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Archive for the ‘Poetry Friday’ Category

Carol Varsalona is gathering poets today at Beyond Literacy Link.

Where do your prompts come from? Are you inspired to write without them or do you need a little push? Inspiration? Motivation?

I’ve been participating in The Stafford Challenge as well as Laura Shovan’s 12th Annual February Challenge, so I should not complain about needing or wanting a prompt for writing. My complaint, I suppose, is that there are too many prompts, too many things to write about. How do I choose the one? Not to mention, how do I keep up with it all?

I am lucky to be teaching ELA to different groups of children. We begin each class time with notebook writing. My students are loving this quiet, sacred writing time. I recently bought a collection of washi tapes and throw them out on the table for their use. My students are making color-coded pages, drawing, and writing, and embracing their creativity. They inspire me every day.

My student Sadie inspired this notebook poem. She came in singing. My heart drawing became a love poem I didn’t know was inside of me. The surprise of writing is addictive.

Dreams in my heart fly over the waves crashing onto the shore of your love. I am yours. You hold me like sea glass, soft and crystal, a gem, a gift from a broken world.

Margaret Simon, draft

Here is a page from Marifaye’s notebook. I marvel at her patience to write in two colors. She loves writing acrostics. Her notebook pages are beautifully created. She inspires me. She inspires her classmates. Maybe she will inspire you.

Notebook page by Marifaye

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Mary Lee has the Round-up at A(nother) Year of Reading.

Here we are on the first Friday of the month and Inklings are spilling secrets. Catherine Flynn prompted us “Write a poem about secrets——family, community/societal, governmental, personal, etc.  This could be a narrative (how the secret(s) started, where it or they led, the along-the-way and final (if any) consequences.  For inspiration or starting blocks for your poem, here’s this poem, “Family Secret” by Nancy Kuhl:  https://poets.org/poem/family-secret

I found a way to write about my mother. It really isn’t a secret that she is living with Alzheimer’s. I’ve written about her before. But I hesitated to write about her. Is it disrespectful to the mother she used to be? I have discovered by revealing this secret, people are more open about their own struggles with the disease. I hope by telling my story with specificity, this poem/secret reaches out to the universal. 

Dressing my Mother at the Memory Care Home

In my dreams, she’s at the kitchen table,
sipping black coffee. She’s reading, ready
for the day to come. 

My sister and I remove her oversized jacket–
daughters on either side coaxing
her arms free from brown suede.
“Is this Dad’s old coat?” my sister asks, pulling

on the heavy cloth. We are caught 
in a maze of arms and fabric, 
confusion, undoing
a mistake of memory we can no longer hide from.
Mom stays silent. 

How does thinking work when words are gone?

Her eyes laugh at this silly game 
we’ve urged her to play.
She giggles
looks to the dolls on the bed–
“How are you doing today?” 

Margaret Simon

Visit other Inklings’ sites to hear their secrets, or not.

Catherine @Reading to the Core
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading

Illustration from How to Say Goodbye by Wendy MacNaughton

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Susan Thomsen at Chicken Spaghetti.

This week the weather has turned to rain, rain, rain. The fog is hovering. Humidity high. Winter blues making me down. But then there is poetry.

Poetry saves me. I am empowered and energized by having written something. Every day, no matter the weather, I can write a poem.

Elfchen has been my go-to form. I’m writing a few everyday. It’s such a nice compact form that can contain all of my emotions and balance my mood. Here’s one from my notebook.

January 25, 2024
Truth
comes in
times of silence
contemplating the thrumming rain
Presence.

Margaret Simon, 1/25/24 draft

I’ve signed up for The Stafford Challenge which is basically a commitment to write daily as William Stafford did. Here’s a poem about wanting to sleep in. It makes me smile.

You Do Not Have to be Good*
(*Mary Oliver “Wild Geese”)

You do not have to wake at 4 AM
to feed the cats
mewing at the back door.
Cats are survivors.

Turn over, go back to sleep–
the most delicious sleep comes
in the wee hours of the morning
in the whisper of the heater
under the warm blanket
his breathing, slow and steady.

Stretch your cramping foot.
Discuss with yourself how the day will go
if you just sleep a little more.

Dream, perhaps,
in this liminal space
of sacred meditation.
Lie with yourself;
Tell her to calm down.
The cats can wait. 

Margaret Simon, draft

How is your January going? Doesn’t it feel like such a long month? I hope you are writing yourself through it. And staying warm.

Peace Postcard by Linda Mitchell

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Robyn Hood Black’s Life on the Deckle Edge

In the new year, I’ve returned to a daily notebook practice with my students. Little did I know the Stafford Challenge would appear and reaffirm my commitment. I adopted this practice years ago after an NCTE panel I coordinated which included Naomi Shihab Nye. We talked about William Stafford’s daily writing, and I adapted the steps to fit with my young students. For whatever reason (maybe Covid) I haven’t been leading my students to write daily in their notebooks. Now I’m reminded of the importance of a daily writing practice. These first few days of the Stafford Challenge, I have opened up more and more on the blank page and worried less about perfection.

Notebook page on Thursday, our first day of school all week.

Our notebook steps:

  1. Date
  2. Quote
  3. What’s Up
  4. Poem-ish

Pretend Play Elfchen

Pretend
no script
Play echoes life.
Their light, my delight
–Shine!

Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday is hosted by Tracey Kiff-Judson at Tangles and Tails.

Have you ever had a form attach itself to you and beg you for a daily poem? I’ve hoped for a daily haiku to come to me for years now. I’ve tried it on, and some days it fits just fine, but I’ve recently felt a tug toward elfchen which is a similar form to a cinquain. Five lines. However, in an elfchen (elevenie, in English) there are more specific directions that stretch the form to a higher problem-solving level, a level of Flow for me, not too hard, not too easy.

On Tuesday, I wrote about beginning this new year with a practice of notebooking with my students. I shared an elfchen there.

Do you read The Marginalian? I highly recommend it as a weekly practice. Maria Popova sends a newsletter each Sunday, and it never fails to inspire me. This is a found elfchen from Jan. 7, 2024.

Attention
high degree
be as prayer
gravity in acts of
Love

Margaret Simon, found in The Marginalian

“Perhaps this spiritual dimension of love stems from a simple equivalence: At its core, love is the quality of attention we confer upon another; and as Simone Weil observed in her timeless meditation on the nature of grace, “attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer.” All of love’s gravity and all of its grace are found in our acts of attention.” Love and the Sacred–The Marginalian.

Have you started a new poetry practice? What commitment to writing have you made?

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Poetry Friday Round up is with Marcie Atkins today.

The first Friday of each month, one of my Inklings writing group friends gives us a challenge. Well, Heidi gave us 12 prompts, one for each day of Yuletide. She sent it to each of us in a handmade mobile. I attached it to my December calendar page and left it there while Christmas and a family trip happened. Only yesterday, I decided to glue the prompts into the remaining pages of my 2023 notebook. The ultimate procrastination, I’m afraid. I’ve written one poem, so it is one poem you will read. This is probably not what Heidi intended when she put so much time and handwork into making our Yuletide prompt calendar.

Call Back the Dying Sun

Your rising beckons me
to notice
a stream of light
overarching
bare trees.

Your rising beckons me
to be like you–
a light for
sight, beacon
of joy.

Your rising beckons me
to sense warmth
even at a slant
toward darkness–
I rise, too.

Margaret Simon, draft
Morning sun on the porch of our mountain house in Georgia.

Heidi @my juicy little universe
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise

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The Poetry Friday round up is with Michelle Kogan today.

I wasn’t planning to post for Poetry Friday today, but I’ve been playing with the elchen form (also known as elevenie), a challenge from the Poetry Sisters. Mary Lee shared the Wikipedia definition of the form. I wrote one last week for This Photo Wants to be a Poem.

While my family has been vacationing in the mountains of North Georgia, coincidentally the words of the day in my email inbox have worked for elchen play.

slippers
warm toes
on cold mornings
this winter’s saving grace
hygge*

Word of the day: hygge- A quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).

Pack
suitcase, car
drive all day
family voyage to mountains
viator*

*Word of the Day 12/26/23 Viator traveler, wayfarer

Light
still shines
in your eyes
sea glass blue joy
luminaria*



*Luminaria is a lantern typically used at Christmas.

Leo (5), Mamere, Stella (3), Thomas (4)

Wayward
wanders hopeful
small mountain town
ice cream with sprinkles
gallivant*

*Word of the Day 12/29/23 Gallivant: Go around from one place to another in the pursuit of pleasure or entertainment.

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Jone Rush MacCulloch.

Winter solstice is a day to look forward to, the ending of a school semester, the joy of decorating for Christmas, and our baby JuneBug’s birthday. And yet, almost as soon as I get home from school, the sky darkens and the world feels hushed and harsh and cold. Life is full of these bittersweet moments.

In 2013, I published a book with my poems and my father’s art, Illuminate. (Still available on Amazon.) I wrote poems for each of my father’s Christmas cards. He had done them for 10 years. It was also the year of his 80th birthday. On Novemeber 11th this year, he would have been 90. I miss him everyday. At this time of year, his presence is near as I thumb through his yearly cards and place one of his drawings on my wall. Art has become his legacy.

Artwork by John Gibson

The Star Still Leads

The light shines in the darkness, and darkness did not overcome it.

Wise men traveled a great distance
with a will
strong enough to carry them
over hills and dunes,
through nights of wind,
storms, and cold.
All in search of a person.

We travel a great distance
recorded in scrapbooks,
dated photographs,
no east, no south,
west, or north,
but names, people we love,
people who sustain us in hope.

We are revealed to God,
our calloused hands
curled in prayer,
warmed by fervent asking
for relationship, for strength,
for understanding.
Asking for a star.

Margaret Simon, Illuminate, 2013

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The yearly holiday poem swap is organized by Tabatha Yeatts. She graciously matches poet to poet. This year my exchange was with Sally Murphy , children’s book author living in Australia.

Imagine my surprise when shortly after Thanksgiving break, full of family and food with little time to think about poetry, I received Sally’s adorable verse novel Queen Narelle. Narelle is a queenly cat. I have one of those. Her name is Fancy which fits her well. I immediately connected with Narelle and Maddie, her girl.

Then there were cute koala sticky notes. And her card to me was a poem “My Country” by Dorothea MacKellar (1885-1968) that begins “The love of field and coppice” and ends with “My homing thoughts will fly.” Such a beautiful ode to Australia. You can read about Dorothea and see the handwritten poem here.

Sally’s poem for me:

Margaret

She notices beauty
even in the dark.
Shares it
to spread joy
or moments of peace
or a reminder
to breathe
be still
reflect.
Purposefully
nurturing herself
nurturing me
nurturing the world.

Sally Murphy

I hold this sweet poem in my hands and feel grateful for being seen in such a loving way. I wanted to respond to Sally by seeing her. I had not put together anything for her yet, so I took a look at her Instagram and found a post about how she could not close the cupboard for all the to-be-read books inside. She called it an “inevitable bookavalanche.”


For Sally

I found you
under a book avalanche
where you were happily
absorbing
word upon words
story upon stories
filling your cupboard
with timeless treasures.

Margaret Simon
Poetry Friday is hosted this week by Janice Scully at Salt City Verse.

Visit this link to WhisperShout magazine to read two of my students’ poems. Thanks, Heidi for selecting them for Issue #12.

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The Poetry Friday Roundup is with Anastasia Suen

The first day of December is here and it is raining, raining, raining. We’ve gone months without rain, so I guess it’s catch up time to meet our rainfall for the year. But I’m not happy about it.

Back in October I learned a new poem form, the luc bat, Vietnamese for six-eight. Wendy Everard posted a prompt on Ethical ELA. The form is quite easy in that each line alternates between 6 and 8 syllables. It’s free with no limit on the number of lines. However, there’s this twist of rhyme. The last syllable of the line of 6 becomes the rhyme for the 6th syllable in the line of 8. Then the word at the end of 8 becomes the next rhyme for 6:

xxxxxA
xxxxxAxB
xxxxxB
xxxxxBxC

Molly Hogan challenged the Inklings to write a luc bat for our December challenge. I’ve written a few of them now and I love how the internal rhyming is both challenging and satisfying.

I wrote a short luc bat for this week’s This Photo Wants to be a Poem. I also tried the form on a previous Photo post here: Ancient Door.

Photo by Burcu Elmas on Pexels.com

Today I am posting the poem I wrote in response to Wendy’s prompt. I used one of her lines to get started. This poem reflects on the process my husband and I went through during my illness this past summer. We’ve made it through and are stronger together for our resilience. “In sickness” is one of the hard places in a marriage.

When leaving words unsaid,
our shared trauma wed and silent,
fears become resilient.
Illness causes consistent stress,
silence under duress.
Feelings close off, repress our love.
Searching within, whereof
words we can speak with love to heal.
Find our way back to real and us.

Margaret Simon, with a line by Wendy Everard

If you want to read more amazing responses to this form, here are the links to my Inkling friends.

Linda Mitchell
Molly Hogan
Heidi Mordhorst
MaryLee Hahn
Catherine Flynn

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