Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Yesterday I read the New York Times newsletter, an article titled “Hurry up and Wait” by Melissa Kirsch. I do not live in a large city and don’t use mass transit to get to work, but the concept of hurry is very much a part of my week days. I like to rise early so that I have time to write, to read, and to walk. Then I rush!
Because I value a slow start, I usually end up rushing. When I rush, I get irritable.
I worry that these rushing mornings affect my patience with my students. If I haven’t had the time to eat, my patience turns to “hangry”. The NYT article pointed me to Marie Howe’s poem, Hurry. Read it. It’ll only take you 31 seconds to read, to stop and think “What was all that hurrying for?”
Hurry honey, run two, three steps Where are we going? Slowdown
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This week was Wonder Week in my classroom as we explored Welcome to the Wonder House by Rebecca Kai Dotlich and Georgia Heard. Each day I let a student choose which “room” we would visit. In this book, there are rooms you would not expect to find: The Room of Ordinary Things, The Room of Imagination, The Room of Wishes. Each page contains poems by Rebecca and Georgia. Each poem invites the reader to think, feel, wonder.
After I read aloud the poems, we notice things like structure, metaphor, imagery. Then they write in their notebooks.
Georgia talks about creating a space for poetry every day. It doesn’t have to take long. I believe in the power of poetry to teach, but also to inspire and somehow settle into you and become part of you.
I write alongside my students every day. We’ve been using markers, colored pencils, washi tape to make our pages pop and please us. Here is a page of my own notebook.
Our notebooking is not perfection which is something I model. Some pages are messy. Some pages do not come out like we want them to, but the practice of playing with poetry, following a line, stealing a metaphor, making an acrostic from a single word, satisfies the imagination and fills the soul.
If you are interested in participating in the Kidlit Progressive Poem in the month of April, the sign up is here.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Linda at Teacher Dance.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Hello, March! If I’ve counted right, this is my eleventh year to participate in the Slice of Life Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers. I’ve challenged myself to write a post every day in March. I will also write every day in April because that’s National Poetry Month. I’ve learned that a daily writing practice enriches my life, connects me with others, and makes me a better writer. Thanks to all my readers. You inspire and encourage me.
Today I’m the challenger of my writing group, the Inklings. We each take a turn at creating a prompt for the first Friday of each month. I asked my friends Molly Hogan, Mary Lee Hahn, Catherine Flynn, Linda Mitchell, and Heidi Mordhorst to write persona poems. Persona poems are written in a different voice. The author can speak through an object, another person, an emotion, etc.
I attended a workshop led by Babalwa Tetyana (link is to the YouTube recording) sponsored by Narrative 4. She guided us to write persona poems. I chose to write from the perspective of a portrait of myself at age 12. I sent my draft to the Inklings. They were confused about who the speaker was. Me or me? Yes, it was me. Tricky.
Sign up here to add a line to the National Poetry Month Kidlit Progressive Poem. In the comments, select your date and leave your blog link/ URL. I’ll update every day until the calendar is full. Be sure to make note of your date. On the day before, go to the blog link before yours and copy and paste the poem. You can choose to write about your process. Remember this poem is for children. The first person will set the topic and tone. It’s fun to see how the poem develops, so follow it and comment. Thanks!
This photo was posted by Kim Douillard with the comment, “Full moon snowshoeing? Yes, please.” Taken in Mammoth Lakes, CA.
Last week’s full moon was a beauty. I had a tug of envy when I saw Kim’s amazing photo on Facebook. What a capture of the forest trees pointing to full moon. The snow is clean and untouched. I felt a sense of calm and peace, all the while knowing that for the Creator to make snow, it must be cold. But this scene is deceptively warm.
Elfchen have become my go-to form this year. I am attracted to using one word to start a poem, one word to send me out on the slope of where a poem wants to take me. Sometimes I go the way of description, sometimes toward a deeper wisdom. My student has created two words for these kinds of poems, a quotem or a quoem. Quotem is a quote that sounds like a poem. A quoem is a poem that sounds like a quote. I hope you feel inspired to write something, be it quotem or quoem. Share it in the comments and encourage other writers along the way with your responses.
Slope slides toward a hungry moon lighting my way to Poem
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Having a safe space to imagine and dream and (re)invent yourself is the first step to being happy and successful, whatever road you choose to pursue.
Ashley Bryan, We Rise We Resist We Raise Our Voices foreword
Hope, a mark of hope, a small piece of washi tape from a student now in my notebook reminding me that I am in a safe space.
Creating a safe space for writers is my top goal as an ELA teacher. When I hear a student read aloud their most fresh and vulnerable words, I am honored. Sometimes they don’t want to share; however, they will hand me their notebook to read. They are watching my eyes for the glow of adoration. I do adore what they write. They are confident children. I need to remember, though, that they are children. They need my validation. My words of encouragement. A sign of hope.
A mark of hope a place to be A dream to dream a road to see you see in me a hand with a gift a mark of hope a place to be
Have you seen the beautiful poetry collection by Kate Coombs Today I am a River? In each poem, the author takes on the “mask” or “persona” of something in nature.
Wind I am the wind. Sometimes I rage! I slash through forests, stamp over mountains. I am a giant, an ogre, a troll– I kick the treetops, yell, bellow, and roar!
1st stanza of “Wind” from Kate Coombs book “Today I am a River”
This is a book students can access easily. It taps into pretend play. What if I were the wind today?
On Tuesday afternoon, I attended a workshop at the Acadiana Center for the Arts. We wrote poems to art, ekphrasis. One of the areas held two stained glass pieces of the same tree image. One tree was surrounded by clear glass, the other in dark blue. I took on the persona of night speaking to dawn.
Next week is my turn to challenge our Inklings for the first Friday of the month. I challenged them and now you to write a persona poem. Here are a few links to persona poems: Mother to Son by Langston Hughes, The Piano Speaks by Sandra Beasly, and an essay from The Poetry Foundation by Rebecca Hazelton.
I am Night I am night I feel ordinary light listening to noisy killdeers chattering in my mind. I seek dawn– open the shades, hopeful a new day will come. I twitch at the backdoor, mew like hungry cats waiting to be fed. Will you come walk with me? Turn toward the east. Watch sun rise in pink and purple above the trees. Will you seek my shadow for comfort or rise?
Yesterday afternoon I went to a workshop at the Acadiana Center for the Arts led by my mentor and friend Darrell Bourque. In the large gallery space was the show In Medias Res: How One Story Becomes Another, a collection of paintings from his collection accompanied by the poems he wrote to them. Darrell first introduced me to eckphrastic poetry years ago. This piece of painted canvas was among a pile of canvases in a writing station within the gallery.
The instructions read “Mystory: Turn no to yes”.
I love how the smashing of my and story looks like the word mystery. What mystery is hiding your true story? What story in your life turned a no into a yes?
During the workshop, I received an enticing text invitation to an Argentinian dinner complete with tango lessons. I said yes without even asking my husband. I knew yes would be his answer, too.
Today we imagine an eager sunrise spinning a new story Tango
daily elfchen, Margaret Simon
What mystery/mystory do you have waiting to expose? What emotions does the abstract painting stir for you? Please leave a small poem in the comments. Remember to write encouraging responses to other writers.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
On Sunday, I took Leo to church with me. I packed a cloth bag with 2 fruit snacks, a blank book, crayons, pens, and 2 Dum Dums. I was ready to entertain a bored 5 year old.
I sing in the choir. We sing from a loft. We are a small group that makes a joyful noise. We practice for an hour before the service. During practice, Leo drew, colored, and watched the organist play. When we took a break, he said, “That took forever.”
When the service began, I was prepared for him to want to go home, but he didn’t whine at all. He told me he wanted to watch from the stairs.
Leo on the stairs at church
Our church is an old Episcopal church founded in the 1850’s. My husband’s family arrived in Louisiana in the 1880’s and his great grandfather and great grandmother, George and Mary, were married in the church. This space is not only sacred, it is historic.
This was Leo’s first visit that he will remember. Amazing changes happen at all ages of early development, but the one I’ve noticed since Leo turned 5 is his curiosity and understanding of things, relationships, and perhaps the concept of “Jesus Loves Me” that I read to him from the box of crayons.
He said, “There are 3 S’s.”
After the service, we went into the parish hall for treats and juice. Friends were greeting us, saying hello to Leo, admiring his good behavior and his curly hair.
As I was buckling him into his car seat to head home, he asked me, “How do you know all those people?”
I answered, “I’ve been going to this church for 41 years.”
Welcome to Poetry Friday. I am happy to be hosting this week. I chose this week because I am out of school for the week for Mardi Gras break. I’m sorry you do not all get this break. It has been so much fun. And today the fun continues with all of your poetry goodness. Find the link up at the end of this post.
Leigh Anne Eck is naming skies. On Thursday, I read her post on Facebook alongside a photo of a sunrise. She wrote “Today’s sky is “step.” I hope you “step into a new day” and “rise up from the dust and walk away.” Following the madness of Mardi Gras, coming home to the solemn Ash Wednesday, I felt surreal, a mixture of fantasy and fact. Her message grounded me as did my morning walk through my familiar neighborhood. Home.
I thought I might get a poem from all of this, yet that poem is still brewing. Today I am sharing a sweet haiku I wrote about my 4 year old grandson picking a wildflower for me. Here is a photo of the tiny blossom in a Mardi Gras cup. I wrote the haiku using Read, Write, Think Haiku interactive, a prompt from Donna Smith.
Wildflower from Thomas
Winter in Louisiana is mostly wet and humid. On an early morning walk while walking through the foggy air, a grief poem came to me. Maybe reading these two poems side by side will put you into that surreal mood I’m in, where there is joy and grief and everything in between.
If you are joining in the link up party, click below and add your link.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 