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Poetry Friday round-up is here! Scroll down to add your link to Inlinkz.

Finding safe online spaces for writing is invaluable to me as a poet-teacher in a small Louisiana town. During the pandemic shut down of 2020, writing kept me sane and real and present. Sarah J. Donovan, Ph.D. directs the website for teacher-writers at Ethical ELA. She is assistant professor of secondary English education at Oklahoma State University where she turned the writing we did during April 2020 into an oral history project.

With the help of colleagues, each volunteer was interviewed through a Zoom meeting and our contributed poems have been curated into a collection entitled Bridge the Distance, Teacher-Poets Writing to Bridge the Distance: An Oral History of COVID-19 in Poems. You can click the link to read the manuscript or order a hard copy.

I ordered a copy. No one profits from the sale of this anthology; you are paying printing costs only. I wanted to have this collection in hand to read and use with my students as mentor texts.

order on Amazon

My contributed poems can be read here:

The Duplex of Virtual Teaching.

Magic Bean

Eight Reasons to Take a Walk on Sunday Morning

8. Bells chime a call to worship
to empty pews echoing the song of trees.

7. I’m sorry I keep taking the same path,
the same images do not grow weary of me noticing.

I pick gardenias from CeCe’s side yard.
If she came out, she wouldn’t mind.

6. I stop by Anne’s to view her century plant as it reaches
skyward. A century plant waits 25 years to blooming,
blooming only once in a lifetime. A lifetime
I took for granted only weeks ago.

5. I can take my time.
No one will call to check on me.

I’ll check the feeders:
the hummingbirds like sweet water.

I’ll get to it in time.

4. I walk and walk
wondering if it will always be this way.

Hollow bells pealing for no one.

No one venturing out to see anyone.

3. It may rain tomorrow. Today,
the sun shines, the birds sing,
and I don’t have to join the chorus.

I’ll keep singing to myself.

2. A link was sent by email
to a video church service, one priest, one reader.

The organist plays
as though the cathedral is full.

Full feels scary now.
Full carries weight.
Who wants to be full?

1. I close this book,
heat another cup of tea,
and find my shoes,
find my way,
fill my day,
and perhaps…

Bloom!

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved
Bridge the Distance, 2021

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Laura Shovan.

This being the first Friday of the month, our Sunday night writing group is up to a new challenge, this time from Heidi. Tabatha Yeatts recently posted a poem by Gail Martin. “What Pain Doesn’t Know about Me” makes a great mentor text for writing about nearly anything. Molly used the prompt to cleverly write about frogs!

Heidi added to the challenge to throw in anthimeria. Go ahead and click the link. I didn’t know what it was either, but I’ve likely used the technique before. Anthimeria is converting a noun into a verb, or a verb into a noun and so forth. I had already drafted a poem when I saw this added bonus, so I edited for the effect.

What Grief Doesn’t Know About Me

after Gail Martin

How I go to bed early and rise before the sun.

My duck-feet. How my surface-body is still while I paddle fiercely.

I can count syllables while walking. I lullaby babies.

He’s not taken my singing,

My generations in the South,

My ability to swim in the deep. Tread water indefinitely.

We don’t talk every day.  We have coffee together on Mondays.

Now, as I watch my cat bat at a black pen on the kitchen table,
I know not to put my hand in the mix. 

If you ask me how my day is going, I might cry.

Margaret Simon, draft

To read how others in our group met the challenge:

Catherine Flynn at Reading to the Core
Linda Mitchell at A Word Edgewise
Heidi Mordhorst at My Juicy Little Universe
Molly Hogan at Nix the Comfort Zone

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Linda at A Word Edgewise.

    Today I am posting with the “Poetry Sisters” (Tricia Stohr-Hunt, Sara Lewis Holmes, Kelly Ramsdell, Laura Purdie-Salas, Liz Garton Scanlon, and Andi Sibley) who challenged the Poetry Friday community to write zentangle poems. If you are unfamiliar with this form, check out this post by Kat Apel.

I have done zentangle before but I’ve never been satisfied with the results. I got a card in the mail from Jone MacCulloch along with a plaque print of her amazing collage response for our Spark exchange. Jone’s card inspired me to try again with a mentor to emulate.

Zentangle by Jone MacCulloch
From Preservation, Spring 2021
Object Lesson
dig
over
enslaved
pieces
a tea bowl
lives
on

This week I received a wonderful summer poem swap gift from Michelle Kogan. Michelle is a watercolor artist in Chicago. She saw posts from me about our wood duck nest boxes and “Jump Day.” I admit to teary eyes when I saw her painting and poem. So special. She sent me a print as well as a homemade notebook with the painting on the cover and poem on the back. I have been writing poems about the wood duck experience and now I have a special place to write them. Thanks. Thanks. Thanks!

I love how Michelle’s poem captures the essence of Joy we feel when we see the ducks jump from their nest box.

Summer Poem Swap is organized by Tabatha Yeatts

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Carol at Carol’s Corner.

As I prepared this PF post, I had to go through new steps in WordPress that annoyed me. It seems once you get a sense of comfort with a platform, someone thinks it’s a good idea to change it up. Is anyone else struggling with the new way to insert an image? What a rigamarole!

I subscribe to Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. On June 4th, the WOD was Rigmarole, not rigamarole as I had always used. My curiosity got hold as well as my inner poet. I turned to a form that my Swagger partner, poet-teacher friend, Heidi Mordhorst invented–the definito.

The rules are a free verse poem of 8-12 lines that ends in the word being defined. Heidi being Heidi usually includes word play aspects as well.

A list of verse, ragman roll
persisted
to mean foolish roll of tongue,
rattling-on-confusing set of directions,
steps here
then there
rambling forward to a destination,
required mouse-trap of a rat-race
ending in the achievement of a goal–
Rigmarole.

Margaret Simon, definito draft
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Challenge: Today’s word is poignant. Want to try a definito? Post in the comments.

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Poetry Friday round-up is here! Scroll to the bottom to add your link.

Last month I participated in two challenges: Spark and Sunday Swaggers. Spark is an exchange between writer and artist led by Amy Souza. I partnered with Jone MacCulloch. I sent her a poem. She sent me this amazing photograph.

Lady Bird Johnson Grove by Jone Rush MacCulloch

How Do We Stand?  


I go to Lady Bird Johnson Grove
to be among these giant trees.

Fenced forest of ten thousand branches
diffuses blue sky radiation
illuminating tunnels in the midst

of roots ungrounded–a path
to the great unknown.

Moved by stillness,
we pass ancient ruins, 
an army of roots intertwined.
I’ll lock arms with you 

through dark spaces
where rays of light
are swallowed
and breathe in blue forever. 

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Molly Hogan challenged our Sunday Swagger poetry group to write after Cheryl Dumesnil’s Today’s Sermon. I created a collage. Sometimes doing this helps me focus and inspires creative juices. After playing with collage and word collecting, I pulled together a poem using the anaphora of Today’s Poem.

Magazine collage by Margaret Simon

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Michelle at More Art 4 All.

“Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.”

Jane Kenyon, Writer’s Almanac May 23, 2021

I’m keeping Jane Kenyon’s quote as a summer goal.

I read a prompt on Denise Krebs’ blog, Dare to Care, about taking a mentor text and writing its opposite. I think the prompt originated with Jericho Brown. I had saved a Jane Kenyon poem because I wanted to use it as a mentor text.

Inertia

by Jane Kenyon

My head was heavy, heavy;
so was the atmosphere.
I had to ask two times
before my hand would scratch my ear.
I thought I should be out
and doing! The grass, for one thing,
needed mowing.


Just then a centipede
reared from the spine
of my open dictionary. lt tried
the air with enterprising feelers,
then made its way along the gorge
between 202 and 203. The valley of the shadow
of death came to mind
inexorably.

Read the rest of the poem here.

I enjoyed playing this game, using a thesaurus to find antonyms. You should give it a try sometime.

Energy

Mirror Poem

My toes were light, light;
so was the earth.
I had to half question
why my finger scratched my nose.
I didn’t think I should be inside
and lazy! The sky, for one thing,
needed viewing. 

After a while, a mosquito
flew over the belly
of my open notebook. It tried
the air with indolent wings,
then made its way along the nibble
between scar and creativity. A Cricket
in Times Square
came to mind
doubtfully. 

It must be easy for the right wing
to know what the left is doing.
and how, on such an afternoon,
when the earth is bright and attentive,
how does it end with feeling
orderly and lighthearted? 

Well, it had its fill of poetry.
I watched it pull its body
under the crease of the page, and appear
in a stain on my finger. 

Margaret Simon, after Jane Kenyon

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Christie at Wondering and Wandering.

Today the Poetry Friday community is celebrating Mary Lee Hahn on the occasion of her retirement. Mary Lee is one of those behind the scenes worker bees. She keeps Poetry Friday going with periodic calls for hosting. She has served on multiple committees with the National Council for Teachers of English (NCTE). I’ve learned over and over from Mary Lee’s quiet wisdom.

To find a way to honor her with a poem, I looked through the Ditty of the Month collections. I found an ars poetica poem by Mary Lee entitled “Peony Poem” in the 2017-2018 anthology. I borrowed her form to write this poem:

Another Peony

An idea
seedling, set
in soil, soggy and shifting
sprouting in a spring garden.

A draft
wobbly, wilting
waits on new legs
hoping to learn to grow.

A poem
blooming, brilliant
shines like a rose on a stem
showing up on this special day. 

Margaret Simon, after Mary Lee Hahn, draft
Photo by Lum3n on Pexels.com

Congratulations on your retirement, Mary Lee. “The trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry.” (Billy Collins) Just think how many poems you have spawned over the years, exponentially.

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Irene at Live Your Poem.

This week I started following Denise Krebs’ blog, Dare to Care. We met each other virtually through blogging. She introduced me to a poetry form called 4×4. Here are the rules copied from her post:

  • 4 syllables in each line
  • 4 lines in each stanza
  • 4 stanzas
  • 4 times repeating a refrain line–line 1 in the first stanza, line 2 in the second stanza, line 3 in the third stanza, and line 4 in the fourth stanza.
  • Bonus: 4 syllables in the title
  • No restrictions on subject, rhyme, or meter.

It’s a fun form to play with. I’ve combined it with using quotes or a stolen line as the repeated line. I have to admit this form has been tough for students to use. While teaching it to kids, I’ve written a few poem drafts this week. Here are two that I don’t hate.

Awareness is
everything we
need to know to
stand for something.

Don’t fall for it.
Awareness is
looking deeply
into your soul.

Answers will come
to questions asked.
Awareness is
waiting for you.

No choice ever
is possible
until you know
awareness is.

Margaret Simon, draft

Hang on to love.
Find someone who
cares for you most,
holds you in trust.

Trust can be hard.
Hang on to love
anyway, ’cause
you matter, too.

When hearts are turned
to the sad news,
hang on to love
to get you through.

Not all sparkles
or shiny smiles,
for steady hands
hang on to love.

Margaret Simon, draft

Last summer I wrote with the National Writing Project during a virtual writing marathon. My poem, Muses, is published in their online journal here.

Chloe wrote a 4×4 poem and read it on a Flipgrid video:

https://flipgrid.com/s/bsA9gxDeQoit?embed=true

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Bridget at wee words for wee ones.

Heidi Mordhorst has started a Facebook group Paradise, Paved for poets wanting a place to “park” their poems, for comment, critique, or just a safe place to land. She has been practicing writing in conversation with or after other poets. Like artists will copy a master painting, when poets copy a master, form frees expression. Magical, really.

I received a link to May Sarton’s poem, For my Mother, in an email from Poets.org. Using her poem as a mentor text, I wrote a poem for my mother.

For My Mother
after May Sarton

Once more
I listen
to the music
of my past
with harmony
rising in my throat.

At the piano
or stereo,
from choir to opera,
your notes
entered
my bones.

Keeping a distance,
my ears remember
the vibrations
of the walls
I closed myself in.

Your song
brought us through
flood waters.
I remember laying out
sheet music to dry.
Then you made a home
with new walls.

Today I find the box of cards 
you collected
and choose one
to send you.

Maybe you will recognize the paper,
the handwriting, or the return address.
Maybe not.
It doesn’t matter.
I remember your song
and that is enough. 

Margaret Simon, draft

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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Poetry Friday round-up is with Matt at Radio, Rhythm, and Rhyme.

This week I was humbled and surprised to have one of Sylvia Vardell’s students create an amazing poem video of Zen Tree from Hop to It: Poems to Get You Moving. Garrett’s soothing voice, the calm music, and the amazing images all came together to show something beautiful. I am honored by this creative expression of my words. Thanks to Sylvia for organizing the project with her students. See more at Poetry for Children.

Michelle Schaub has been posting poetry videos all month on her blog Poetry Boost. My video of “Peep Eye” was featured this week.

Michelle Kogan finished up the Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem with a final line as well as a delightful illustration. The poem will be archived here.

I’ve been writing poems each day in response to prompts on Ethical ELA. I share these prompts with my students. On Wednesday, I struggled over the prompt. I shared the struggle with Chloe. She started writing me notes with topic suggestions. One of these notes said, “Me.” Then the pen flowed.

Fifth Grade

She comes in the room
with an attitude
that testy mood
of preteen silliness
and suggests I write a poem
about her. 

As if I know her well enough
to write her down in words.

What I know is she grins loudly in braces.
She writes notes on paper
and crumples them like the crunch
of a chip bag in the trash–
Schwoop! Perfect shot! 

But this poem will not be a perfect shot. 
There are no shots left on her page
of excuses–the “not my fault”
dissolves into “I just can’t.”

I wonder aloud “When will you believe in yourself?”
When did I believe in myself?
Have I ever?

This poem can’t end like this.
I must write something encouraging
to make all this white space worth it.

This I know…she’s worth it! 

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

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