Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
On Friday, I joined my writing group in posting poems written from an Amanda Gorman prompt. This Book Scavenger Hunt can work over and over again with different books, different moods, and a different page in the notebook. Find a nearby book and go to 3 different random pages and select a word from the page. Now write for 5 minutes.
For this one, I chose the book White Rose by Kip Wilson and found these words: guilt, endanger, coat pocket.
Tension Hands held in a coat pocket fisted, fingering tissue tearing it to shreds.
This mood endangers my attitude, takes my mind to guilt.
Release, let go, open your hand. The sky is waiting to shine.
Margaret Simon, draft
Notebook Collage, March 5, 2021. Found a sticky note on my classroom door, so I added it to my daily collage. The notecard design was a meditative doodle I had drawn using colored pencil.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Erasure Poem, “Every Letter is a Love Letter” by Jennifer Sinor, The American Scholar, Spring 2021
I was fascinated by the article in The American Scholar by Jennifer Sinor, “Every Letter is a Love Letter.” She wrote of how Georgia O’Keefe wrote letters for years to her husband. The thing that drew me in was the language, the words in the article expressing the space that letters provide. There is the space of time between the writing and the receiving. In this day when a message can be sent before you even check the spelling, words can fly across vast spaces in a millisecond. I wanted to capture this idea somehow, so I thought of using erasure poetry.
The frustration for me was erasing the other words. So many artists do it in a way that somehow preserves the words behind the erasure. I tried different things so I ended up with a layered look that I don’t hate. I’ve typed the words I kept into poem form below:
Every Letter
we find those spaces void you see canyons empty spaces reveal vastness Time in life’s work experience of being in art we fit ourselves
I wrote to my husband Before long He left quiet communion, heart of prayer, easy, difficult love letters. You take your wounds handwritten to be unrecognizable.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Saturday the sun came out, the temperatures rose to a pleasant 60 degrees, and I was with my grandchildren. A happy place most of the time. There are those small moments when the bottle isn’t ready and Stella, 3 months, is hungry. And naptime when both Stella and Leo, 27 months, were crying. There is no such thing as a perfect child or a perfect day with them, but Saturday came pretty close.
After naps, I took Leo, dressed in his caterpillar Halloween costume, to the park to watch the kite flyers there. There was a “Hulk” kite tied to an electric pole. When the kite crash landed, I took the chance to share kite flying experience with Leo.
“Pick up the string” I held the kite high. “Hold it up high. Now let go” The kite caught the March wind and up it went. Leo danced in a circle squealing with delight.
When I think about my play-day with Leo, I realize that he never played with a toy. His father was working on fixing up a small shed with peg board. Leo played with a drill, a pencil, and a screwdriver. He was building, too. At the park, he picked up a large branch and “raked” leaves. Who needs toys when the world outside is full of interesting sticks?
When the Very Hungry Caterpillar sat at the kitchen table to eat his dinner, I said goodbye. “Bye, Mamere. Kiss.”
Kites, the wind, and that kiss will carry me through to next Saturday.
Leo, the caterpillar, sister Stella, and the fire-pit on a glorious March windy day.
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As an adult I’ve learned that failure is a part of life. However, it’s not one we want to admit to. Failure feels uncomfortable. Failure feels unspeakable. Failure is fearful of what happens now.
This year of the Covid pandemic, there has been a great deal of failure. It’s hard to find the silver lining. I met with my last remote student yesterday and wanted to reach across the screen and cradle him. He feels like a failure. He will go back to in-person school on Monday because he couldn’t keep up with the work in the computer program he was given.
Our district has a virtual option for parents who did not want to send their children back to the buildings. The virtual option does not come with a teacher. As a gifted teacher, I was only responsible for IEP minutes, enrichment basically. I did not teach content to the virtual students. Their curriculum was through a program of videos and tasks. Virtual literally means “not real” and the program is not at all real. My student is not alone. Many students are not making it. Many are failing.
Our System has failed our Students. I do not know what this year will mean in the long run. What does the future hold? Where will we go from here? Education has failed. Our students are the victims.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Poetry Friday is with Kat Apel down under with a new picture book.
In January I was looking for everything about Amanda Gorman, the inaugural poet and National Youth Poet Laureate, and I found a poetry prompt video from April, the beginning of the pandemic. The program was done by the 826 National Network called #agoodtimetowrite. Amanda called it a book scavenger hunt.
Book Scavenger Hunt with Amanda Gorman
It’s a quick writing prompt. Everyone usually has a book nearby to grab. Select 3 random pages and one word from each page. List those words, then write for 5 minutes. I’ve done it a few times, and the results can be really fun, so I challenged my Sunday night Swaggers to try it out.
This week was Read Across America Week which is still called Dr. Seuss Week at my school. Every day was a different dress up day. On Thursday, we dressed as our favorite characters. Lots of Cats-in-the-hat and Things 1 & 2. One of my students was Cindy Lou Who.
Made with Waterlogue
With this fun-filled week and words from a nearby book (LifeBoat by Susan Hood), I selected the words movie star, peaches, and tantalizing. This is my original draft:
Mouthwatering delight the movie star of flavors– pour Skittles into an open palm– tantalizing irresistible like bacon in the frying pan or syrup on pancakes or melted chocolate inside a s’mores, peachy pink bubble satisfied my sweet tooth, gift from a girl dressed like Cindy Lou Who on the playground.
Margaret Simon, draft
See how my Poetry Swagger friends met the challenge:
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
2021 Grab this image for your blog post.
Today is day 4 of the Slice of Life Story Challenge and Spiritual Journey (first) Thursday.
A group of bloggers commit to writing a post on the first Thursday of the month around a topic. I am rounding up the posts today. (Place your link in the InLinkz at the end of this page.) The topic I chose was March Spirit Wind. The lioness of March winds roared through here on Monday bringing a new cold front. March weather is fickle. One day may be sunny and 70’s and the next rainy and 40’s. In this topsy turvy weather, I long to find quiet time.
Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
Lately I have been using magazine collage to explore creativity. I am finding that it leads to inspiration for writing. The process of design, finding images I love, cutting, placing, gluing bring my mind to a place of rest where creativity can flow.
Silence Collage in Notebook 3/3/21
Linda Mitchell sent me some poem seeds that I carry with me in a ziplock bag along with pens, scissors, glue. I tossed out some seeds and this poem fell out.
Craft of Life, seed poem, notebook page 3/3/21
Perhaps the most important thing we bring to another person is the silence in us, not the sort of silence that is filled with unspoken criticism or hard withdrawal. The sort of silence that is a place of refuge, of rest, of acceptance of someone as they are. We are all hungry for this other silence.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Each week I invite writers to join me in a quick write about a photograph. This is the first week of the Slice of Life Challenge, so if you are a slicer, I want to extend this inspiration/invitation to you, too. If this is something you’d like to do weekly, subscribe to my blog.
Here’s how it works. Use the image to inspire a small poem. Leave your poem in the comments. Respond to other writers with positive feedback. That’s it. Easy peasy. No pressure. We are just exercising our writing muscle. When I write this post, I participate in the same way. I never write a poem ahead of time. My poem is quick and drafty.
I took this week’s photo Saturday night as we were leaving a lovely outdoor dinner with friends. It was close to 10 PM, and I was struck by how much light the moon gave off.
Iphone photo by Margaret Simon
On a clear night you can see all the way to the moon, God’s streetlight.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I teach multiple grade levels, so in one given day I’ll read a social justice poem, an article about invertebrates, a picture book about water protectors, and student slices. But all reading roads lead to writing in one way, shape, or form. We write every day.
Today’s notebook collage is a sea of invertebrates, including a thesaurus page with the heading word specimen. But it was the words that led to my thoughts. We all have a story to tell. I may not have a story about significant environmental issues or roots in injustice, but it is a story, a history worth noting in a poem.
Notebook page collage, 3/1/21
In the Natural Rhythm of Memory
While she may speak of rivers, and he speaks for the trees, the poet speaks for mollusks, snails, and anemones. Who do I represent? Neither drums of nature, nor blood of brothers tell my story. Not poor or tortured; My river runs from Mississippi to Texas, through veins of magnolias and spray of Gulf waves– my history is a southern drawl spoken over the telephone, sweet as maple syrup, white as cornbread, and golden as the morning sun.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
A friend sent me an article suggestion from The Atlantic. “Ode to Low Expectations” by James Parker. Here’s a quote to start off my Slice of Life March Madness:
We’re half-finished down here, always building and collapsing, rigging up this and that, dropped hammers and flapping tarps everywhere. Revise your expectations downward. Extend forgiveness to your idiot self. Make it a practice. Come to rest in actuality.
James Parker, The Atlantic March 2021
I needed to read this before committing to a month long writing challenge. I need to lower my expectations and be myself on this page. Who else is any better or worse? Who else could I even try to be?
I’m testing my creativity every day. If I place my hands on the keys and get something written, then I’m ahead of the game. I’m just warning you, if you are a reader of my blog. Every day is a risk. Every day is scary. But I am here. Will you join me?
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Amanda Gorman is an icon these days. She’s everywhere. Even at the Super Bowl. While I didn’t care much for the game, I do care about poetry and am enthralled by Amanda Gorman.
For writing time Monday morning, I showed this video of her performance. At first we just watched and listened. Then my students and I collected word groups. Amanda not only writes with rhyme and rhythm, she also plays with the inner sounds of words. Here are a few of the groups we collected:
captain action impact
need lead exceeding succeed
expectation limitation uplifting
wound warfare warrior share
nonstop hot spots laptops workshops
acting courage compassion
charge champions carry call captain
neighbors leaders educators healers
schools tools
Chloe said “Her tongue’s a trampoline.” I grabbed that line as a first line to this poem.
Amanda
Her tongue’s a trampoline! Words bouncing, beginning a charge for compassion, acting, not reacting with a force for choice. Nonstop flips and jumps, swinging above expectations with a landing, a bow, and branding a voice for now, an example of how, Amanda amps the vow– Wow!
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 