Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This photo was an impulse photo, like an impulse buy in the grocery store at the check out line. I was walking in the cold of the early morning and making a wish for warmer days. I know I’ll get my wish soon enough, but 41 degrees is chilly, and frankly, I’m tired of having to put on layers for my walk. I almost tripped over this patch of clover.
Where did it come from? How does it know it’s time to bloom? When everything else is still brown? So I stopped, grabbed my phone with my stinging cold fingers and took a picture. I think my wish worked because the day warmed up to 70 without a cloud in the sky. Spring is coming slowly but surely.
Clover by Margaret Simon
Secret starbursts proud emerging from a green cloud Harbinger of spring.
Margaret Simon, draft
The way this works: Look at the photo for inspiration and write a small poem in the comments. Leave encouraging comments to other writers by replying to their poems. Let your mind wander. No pressure.
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.
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.
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?
As I peer through bleary eyes at the end of a long week after a week off, I am remiss to find a proper poem to post, but Alas! Kat Apel has saved the day. She created a form just right for this occasion.
What is a lamipofri? It’s a poetry snapshot that’s quickly scribed, to give people an insight into the world around you at a given point in time – that point being the last minute as you’re scrambling for a Poetry Friday poem to post! Hence the name: LAst MInute of a POetry FRIday!
Leo is learning the difference between his reflection and his shadow. He sees himself in a mirror, says, “Cute Shadow!” I am finding myself fascinated by how his little brain makes connections. How does language develop? What I am learning is that it is not at all linear. We start by repeating things a big person says. Leo parrots often. I was writing a card to a friend and said, “Dear Ellen.” He took the paper using the pen to draw right over my words and said, “Dear Ellen.” But then he kept scribbling hard and said, “Words!” And then some gibberish I didn’t understand. I took a video on my phone and sent it to Ellen.
I don’t have much video from my own children growing up. I’m sure I was as fascinated, but I was also busy being their mom. Being grandmother allows me time to reflect. I am writing things in a notebook for him. I’ve decided not to worry whether or not he will care about this when he gets older. That is not the point. I think that so many times as someone who wants to write, I worry too much about audience.
I read this morning on the Writer’s Almanac that Toni Morrison felt free when she wrote. She didn’t worry about her audience. She just marveled in the way writing consumed her. “But the writing was the real freedom, because nobody told me what to do there. That was my world and my imagination. And all my life it’s been that way.”
I don’t expect to be Toni Morrison, but I can take a bit of freedom from her. Let go and just write what comes. Ruth’s invitation today was to write fast. This was a quick write, about 20 minutes or so. Just enough time to bake a brownie or write a post. Both are sweet in their own way.
The Writer’s Almanac comes daily in my email inbox. Some days I barely have time to read it, but others I find a kernel of inspiration, a poem, an author, a rabbit hole. On this day, I remembered Catherine’s prompt and tucked the poem into a document to work with later.
The process was fun. I used the suggesting tool in Google docs editor. That way I kept the original underneath the new text I added. In Greg Watson’s poem, the main character is a yellow lab waiting for its owner outside a coffee shop. We don’t have a yellow lab, but my little schnoodle Charlie goes bonkers when our resident raccoon visits to steal our outdoor cat’s food.
When I’m up early, I feed the cat before dawn. When the raccoon comes, I let Charlie out to the side yard when he goes crazy. One morning, I actually saw the raccoon. It did not run away as I expected, but just stood still like a stone creature from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Watson’s poem gave me the perfect structure to capture this surprising moment.
Raccoon Outside the Back Door
The raccoon outside the back door today does not move; but instead,
still with ever-expectant energy, like a heron perched for the catch,
forepaws poised in the air above the leaf-littered sidewalk,
he stops without making a sound, knowing that any moment
the cat food will disappear, slipped back into the human house,
and night will suddenly fall into day: every sound, sight, and aroma
disturbed, the door swinging open and shut, with a backward glance
awkward silhouette, following, as if it had somewhere to go.
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 