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Poetry Friday: Red Rainbow

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged #poetryofpeace on January 10, 2020| 15 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Sally Murphy.

While the news of the world has most of us down and wondering what will happen next, my fellow poets and I turn to nature. Molly Hogan lets her eye find solace in nature in her poem this week. Linda Mitchell has haiku to share. And Catherine Flynn shares “Making Peace”
by Denise Levertov, “The poets must give us the imagination of peace…”

For more links to poetry peace, click over to Sally Murphy’s site. Sally is an Australian author supporting #authorsforfireys on Twitter, an auction to help fire relief in Australia.

I was recently driving to New Orleans on a stormy day, but the closer I got to Nola, the clouds turned red from the setting sun and a rainbow appeared. Who doesn’t love a good rainbow to inspire promise?

But I was driving, so taking a picture was tricky, and writing a poem impossible. Later I tried dictating my idea into the notes app. Some of the words recorded. Enough for the idea to germinate into this draft.

A car wizzes past
going 85 or 90 miles an hour.
Weaving in and out, the driver
couldn’t have noticed the sun
drawing light into the clouds
like a bonfire on a cold night,

Or the rainbow that appeared
streaking more red than any
rainbow I’ve ever seen.
I slowed to snap a picture,

longing to forget the speeding car,
the violent news of the day,
and drive into the sunset
with the promise of a rainbow.

Margaret Simon, draft 2020

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Poetry Friday: What is the Word?

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged #100DaysofNotebooking, Enneagram, One Little Word, Sunday Poetry Swaggers on January 3, 2020| 10 Comments »

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

My Sunday Night Poetry Swaggers Group discussed the One Little Word tradition and found that everyone had a slightly different take on whether or not it was a good practice. Heidi challenged us to write about whether or not we word for the first Friday of the month. You can read their posts here:

Catherine
Heidi
Linda
Molly

I’ve been choosing a word each year for 7 years. I enjoy the process of trying to find the one right word to guide my year.

I’m a two on the Enneagram. That means I’m a giver, someone who spends most of their time trying to ingratiate others. The good side of a two is being helpful and selfless. The idea is to get better at being who you are. So I subscribe to an Enneathought of the Day. This came on New Year’s Eve.

Present has been my word before, but it continues to fit because being present is a constant goal. For 2019, my word was Grace. Grace goes beyond presence to actually live with the peace of knowing you are loved.

My word this year was suggested by my son-in-law who knows me pretty well. I wrote about Embrace in my Spiritual Thursday post yesterday.

I joined Michelle Haseltine’s #100DaysofNotebooking challenge and wrote about Embrace in my notebook. This challenge is not only a good way to restart a notebook practice, but it connects me to a new community of writers I can “embrace.”

I also received a serendipitous postcard from Irene Latham. The poem just makes me want to embrace her and embrace writing.

Here is a second draft of my Embrace poem:

Embrace says yes to now,
holding on tight to this one moment
finding a heart full of love.
Embrace is a word of grace,
silently listening, open
for the world to fill.
Embrace is here for you
to welcome, knowing nothing
ever stays the same.
Embrace!
Margaret Simon, draft 2020

Do you choose a word? a resolution?

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Poetry Friday: A New Year Coming

Posted in Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged Creativity, triolet, winter solstice on December 27, 2019| 10 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Michelle Kogan..

The Christmas rush has finally settled, and Charlie and I have found solace in the sofa with warm fleece blankets, a cup of tea, and a guilty pleasure rom com on Netflix. I needed this day of rest.

I did spend some time catching up on Cybils reading and doing laundry. There’s always laundry. But for the most part, I’ve taken it easy.

Thinking ahead to the new year coming, I love the idea that there is space for seeds to grow. On the Smack Dab in the Middle blogspot, Deb Calhoun wrote:

“Two days past winter solstice, when the days inch longer and the nights shorter, this is the time when imagination reignites. All that has been hidden, sleeping and growing in the dark Underland, begins to emerge. Tendrils of light shoot up like tiny seedlings poking their heads from the dark. They find light and see what the wind says.”
Deb Calhoun

Deb suggests we pay attention to the budding of imagination and creativity. Whenever I have the time to relax, I feel the energy of creativity. I wish I could cultivate it every day, but when lessons have to be made and the house has to be ready, I get weary and unimaginative.

Today I am off to visit my parents in Mississippi, but before this winter school break ends, I hope I find another day to rest and wait for new ideas to germinate.

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Poetry Friday: Winter Swap

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged Golden Shovel, Naomi Shihab Nye, Tricia Stohr-Hunt, winter poem swap on December 13, 2019| 13 Comments »

A gathering of poetry can be found at Liz Steinglass’s site.

The Winter Poetry Swap has arrived. Our friend Tabatha Yeatts matches us up for a rich exchange of poetry inspired gifts. This year I was paired with Tricia Stohr-Hunt. This week I received her gift.

Tricia spent some time on my gift. That impresses me because these days, especially in December, time is precious and small. She cross-stitched my favorite line of poetry from Naomi Shihab Nye. Now to know this, she had to read my blog posts. Then design and stitch.

And to top it all off, she wrote a wonderful golden shovel using the line.

Golden Shovel for Advent
It is not the season of me or I.
nor the season of greed and want.
It is time for reflection, time to
prepare for the guest. We must be
ready to reach out to someone,
anyone who needs, anyone who
asks. Let us draw nearer to what makes
us whole. As the year crowns, it is music
that fills the air and our hearts with
expectation. Stars keep watch. My,
how they shine! Rejoice, for the Lord is coming.
Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019

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Poetry Friday: Beauty in the Ugly

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged beauty-in-the-ugly, Sunday Poetry Swaggers on December 6, 2019| 15 Comments »

The poetry Friday Round up is hosted this week by Tanita at fiction, instead of lies.

Our Sunday night Poetry Swaggers group is posting today with a challenge from Molly Hogan. “This month, I invite you to reinvent the world around you (or one aspect of it) by shifting your lens to see the beauty in what at first seems to be ugly or unnoteworthy.”

Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so.
Naomi Shihab Nye, A Valentine for Ernest Mann

Molly quoted Naomi Shihab Nye who says,
“Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us,
we find poems.” All we need to do is shift our focus a bit to find beauty in the everyday, otherwise passed-over things.

I pass this dilapidated house often, yet after Molly’s prompt, I noticed the beauty of the plants justing up through the floor boards.

There are signs
on the door
fingerprints,
peeling paint.
We’ve been here,
so have they-
gone now
the way of time.
Margaret Simon, draft 2019

Steps to a house in New Orleans. I was struck by the pattern of color in the peeling paint.

The Smell of Morning
Sagging fog, thick on the morning,
captures the scent of my walk.
Someone is running the dryer
blowing Downy air.
Every morning, he smokes a cigar
on his front porch, white rocker,
booted feet propped on the railing.
He waves and with it comes
a pungent smell of burning wood–a home scent.
Beneath my feet, pine needles crunch
releasing a breath of Christmas.
My mother would gather them
to mulch the flower beds for winter.
As I walk, I practice my deep
yoga breath, in, hold, out, hold,
pausing to savor the ordinary,
extraordinary scents of the day.
Margaret Simon, draft 2019

Be sure to visit the other Swaggers today to enjoy more beauty in the ugly.

Catherine Flynn: Reading to the Core

Heidi Mordhorst: My Juicy Little Universe

Linda Mitchell: A Word Edgewise

Molly Hogan: Nix the Comfort Zone

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Poetry Friday: Verse Novels

Posted in Books, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged Kip Wilson, Margarita Engle, verse novels on November 29, 2019| 10 Comments »

Poetry Friday posts are all gathered by Bridget at wee words for wee ones.

Last weekend at NCTE I had a conversation with Laura Shovan and Chris Barton about novels-in-verse. We discussed briefly how novels-in-verse should be poetry rather than prose written to look like poetry.

On my long travel day to NCTE, I read Margarita Engle’s novel-in-verse Soaring Earth. Margarita is a poet. Her novel reads like poems with the backdrop of her life experiences from late teen years to adulthood. In each verse, she was processing who she was and who she wanted to be. She rejects then embraces the culture of her life. She has to leave herself to find herself, and it’s all written in beautiful language of poetry.

Currently I am reading White Rose by Kip Wilson. Once again, I put on the lens of a poet finding the elements of poetry as well as compelling story. Kip Wilson has successfully drawn me into the story of Sophie, a young adult resistor to Hitler’s Germany. The story takes me to the horrors of the early 40’s. I place myself into the shoes of a girl who knows it’s wrong to kill for any reason. She is keenly aware of what is happening in her country. She finds small joys, so we are not bombarded with terror. I am more than halfway through. I know what eventually happens, yet I keep reading. The lyrical rhythm of verse makes this incredible story a beautiful one.

February 20, 1943
A Golden Bridge
I have nothing
more to say,
Herr Mohr has nothing
more to ask,
and yet the next
time he summons
me, he throws
me a lifeline.
You can still save
yourself, Fraulein
Scholl.
Boom-boom,
boom-boom.
A sliver of light enters
the room, and I’m certain
the entire world can hear
the pounding in my chest.
Tell me you were only
following your older
brother,
and I’ll recommend
setting you free.
My heart, beating
so confidently moments ago,
whimpers, withers, dies
but my voice gathers
courage:
Nein.
Kip Wilson, White Rose

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Poetry Friday: What Time does the Bluebird Sing?

Posted in Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged bluebird, nature poem, The Time is Now on November 22, 2019| 10 Comments »

This week’s round up is hosted by Rebecca at Sloth Reads.

Each week I receive an email with writing prompts from Poets & Writers The Time is Now. A few weeks ago this was the prompt for poetry.

Several years ago, New York Public Library staff discovered a box filled with file cards of written questions submitted to librarians from the 1940s to 1980s, many of which have been collected in the book Peculiar Questions and Practical Answers: A Little Book of Whimsy and Wisdom From the Files of the New York Public Library (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2019). Questions include: “What does it mean when you’re being chased by an elephant?” and “Can you give me the name of a book that dramatizes bedbugs?” and “What time does a bluebird sing?” Write a poem inspired by one of these curiously strange questions. Does your poem provide a practical answer, or avoid one altogether leading instead to more imaginative questions?
The Time is Now, Oct. 29, 2019

I used the question “What time does a bluebird sing?” to inspire a poem.

What Time Does a Bluebird Sing?

Morning is filled with birdsong.
If it’s not yet sunrise, I hear the owl whoot.
If the sun’s up and there’s an electric pole nearby,
it’s the woodpecker—drumming, not singing,
but musical all the same.
Echoing through the breeze
sings Papa cardinal
and soon the mockingbird joins in
with a trill up the scales.
Where is the bluebird?
Hiding in a grove of trees near the swamp,
shyly tweeting,
a flash of blue
the color of sky,
song of morning.

Margaret Simon, draft 2019

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Poetry Friday: The Place I Love

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Teaching, Writing, tagged Bayou Teche, Lee Bennett Hopkins, Today's Little Ditty on November 16, 2019| 9 Comments »

Michelle Heidenrich Barnes hosts today with an announcement of the third collection of Today’s Little Ditty.
I have a little ditty in the book as do many of my PF friends.

A few weeks ago I grabbed a poetry writing idea from Kim Douillard. She had her students make heart maps about a place they love and write a poem after Lee Bennett Hopkins’ City I Love.

I did this with my students. We cut simple heart shapes from plain paper and drew and wrote on them. Then glued them into our notebooks. Here’s a photo of one of mine.

On the Bayou I Live Near
after Lee Bennett Hopkins
On the bayou I live near–
bayou I love–
morning sun streams
in wide golden beams
gleaming a new day.
On the bayou I live near–
bayou I love–
afternoons bloom
while speedboats vroom
through sweet olive perfume.
On the bayou I live near–
bayou I love–
sunsets glisten,
a lone heron listens
as the hoot owl
who, who, whos
me
to
sleep.

Margaret Simon, draft 2019

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Poetry Friday: Molly’s Marsh

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged Maine, Molly Hogan, nature poem on November 8, 2019| 13 Comments »

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

My poet-friend and writing group partner, Molly Hogan, is a fine art photographer in her spare time. She lives in Maine and posts amazing photos on her blog and Facebook page. Sometimes her photos inspire me to respond in poetry.

Dawn on the Marsh
Dawn on the marsh glows
like embers, like the final flash of a torch
lighting the tiny particles of fog
rising ghost-like and dreamy.
High in the sky
geese line up
to honk their way south
In the distance, deer graze,
tentatively perk their ears
to your sound.
You do not feel the cold
that numbs your fingers and toes
as you click the lens of your camera
whispering a prayer of thanks.
Margaret Simon, draft 2019

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Poetry Friday: National Author’s Day

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged found poem, Nature poems, Sunday Poetry Swaggers, Where the Crawdads Sing on November 1, 2019| 14 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.

Today is National Author’s Day, and my friend and critique partner Linda Mitchell challenged our writing group, The Sunday Night Swaggers, to write a poem inspired by a favorite author.

When she challenged us, I thought of the most recent book I read Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens. According to The New York Times Book Review, this book is “Painfully beautiful…At once a murder mystery, a coming-of-age narrative, and a celebration of nature.”

The poet in me was inspired by her beautiful writing about nature. I turned to a page and gathered words and lines to put together a poem “after Delia Owens.”

Sandbar
How quickly the sea and clouds
defeat the spring heat,
how the grand sweep of the sea
and sand catch-net the most precious shells.
How its current
designs a sandbar, and another
but never this one again.
She had long known that people don’t stay.
This fiery current
was her heart-tide
releasing love to drift
among seaweed.
How drifting back to the predictable cycles
of tadpoles and the ballet of fireflies,
Nature is the only stone
that does not slip midstream.
Margaret Simon, found poem from Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens