Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Diane Mayr’

Poetry Friday is at Linda's site: Teacher Dance

Poetry Friday is at Linda’s site: Teacher Dance

 

Sometimes I sign up for things and then forget about them.  So I was pleasantly surprised when I got some poetry mail this week.  A while back, Jone MacCulloch asked us blogging poets to sign up for a new year postcard exchange.  I signed up and ordered my postcards.

I was so pleasantly surprised this week when I received 3 postcards.  I hope there are more coming.

My postcards from VistaPrint haven’t arrived yet, so if you’d like to receive one, send me your address (margaretsmn at gmail).  I have the list of 10 that Jone sent me, but I’m happy to send more.

Diane Mayr does a new year postcard every year in the tradition of Nengajo, a Japanese tradition of sending a postcard including a haiku.  She writes that this year’s card includes the Year of the Rooster, a reference to fire, and the word first.  The background is “Yawning Apprentice” by Mihaly Munkacsy (circa 1869).  She will be posting the digital version on her blog today.  Here is my camera image.

dmayr-postcard

 

In the same batch of mail, all the way from Hawaii, Joy Acey blessed me with a lovely original painting and poem.  She is such a dear person whom I have never met.  Some day I will fly to Hawaii to see her in her garden. Even her sweet note is poetic.

Margaret,

I was lying in bed this morning listening to the blasting rain hit the exterior of my bedroom wall and windows–these are the windows that face east so I could watch the cloud covered Sleeping Giant and the sunrise.

I’m thinking about selecting one word for a guide in the new year and I’m thinking about our poetry postcard exchange for the new year and this haiku appeared with your name written all over it.

joy-acey-card

painting and poem by Joy Acey

The third card of joyful words came from Irene Latham.  She tweeted recently that she had her postcards ready, and I was secretly crossing my fingers that I would get one.  The card looks like an old postcard from Germany, a gift in itself, but it was accompanied by this beautiful verse:

The Coming of Light

And here is the secret
to everything:
when you let the light it,
a river
you thought dried up
or frozen
will begin to sing.

–Irene Latham

irene-latham-card

Bruckmanns Bildkarte NR

 

Read Full Post »

Find more celebration posts at Ruth's blog.

Find more celebration posts at Ruth’s blog.

 

I take a walk in my neighborhood.  One of the gifts of living in South Louisiana are the live oak trees.  We have been getting rain every day this summer.  It helps to keep temperatures reasonable, in the 80’s rather than the 90’s, and it resurrects the resurrection fern.

This morning the sun was up and glowing on the fern.  I often refer to this phenomenon in my poetry.  A word search on my blog turned up 9 results.  To celebrate the fern today, I am re-using the lines in a photo-poem.

My senses awake like resurrection fern after the rain,

Grandmother Oak holds her jewels
of resurrection fern and Spanish moss
like modest ornaments.

 

 

 

Fern glistens in the emerging sun.

 

 

 

Her branches open wide for resurrection fern.

img_7408

Being present is easy
when the light shines
on resurrection fern
making shadows to
fascinate me.

img_7410

Live oaks reveal God’s name,
open resurrection fern.

I also found this poem gift from Diane Mayr.

Image by Diane Mayr

Image by Diane Mayr

Read Full Post »

Laura Shovan is a poet who shares the love. For her birthday month, February, she commits to writing poems every day and shares the experience with anyone who dares to jump in to the party. Read her introduction to the project here.

I have joined in her project every year and find the experience challenging, inspiring, and enriching. I don’t know if I get better at writing poems, but I know for sure that this is a welcoming and passionate-about-poetry group. I am honored to host today.

In preparation for this month of writing, Laura called for images of found objects. I sent her this image of lotus seed pods I picked up out of the swamp on a winter canoe trip. They sit in a pottery piece that is also reminiscent of nature.

lotus pods

Diane Mayr was considering skipping today. And that very thought made her write a skippy poem. You never know where the muse may hide. I love the rhythm of the flower names and of course, the final truth.

Mama Planted a Garden
(a skipping rhyme)

Mama planted a garden,
but it came up weeds.
Oh, my silly Mama!
You planted the wrong seeds.

No, my little Missy,
they were the right ones.
A flower to a father
may be a weed to the son!

Buttercup, aster, and bergamot.
Maiden pink, dandelion, forget-me-not.

Columbine, bunchberry, periwinkle.
Violet, lady slipper, honeysuckle.

Always remember this,
my little daughter:
one person’s weed
is another one’s flower!
–Diane Mayr

Patricia VanAmburg did some research on lotus pods and found out there is a disease, Trypophobia—fear of holes. So she wrote a rather empty poem about that feeling of empty nest, one I know all too well.

Empty

Of what use this pod
Without her seeds
Temporary filler for
More fruitful flowers
But every life
Returns to earth
Fragile as the cradle
In an attic corner
Brittle as mother’s ribs
After every baby has gone
–Patricia VanAmburg

Jessica Bigi sent an image of a lotus flower while she takes us back to ancient rituals.

Photo and poem by Jessica Bigi, all rights reserved.

Photo and poem by Jessica Bigi, all rights reserved.

Carol Varsalona is cross-posting her poems on her blog. I love how she is digitally playing with the image as well. I imagine sitting with Carol enjoying a warm cup of coffee and the quiet.

A Hushed Quiet

As I sit by the window,
the morning sun
drifts on in,
singing the praises
of yet another day.
A zen-like quality emerges.
Rays bouncing from
winter white blankets
bring outdoors in.
A hushed quiet
envelops the room.
In a corner,
upon a mat of bamboo,
cut-open pods of grace
in triad formation
adorn a desk
of muted colors.
Indoor life merges
with outdoor sights
in a seasonal burst,
reminding me that
new life is waiting
in an early spring.

©Carol Varsalona, 2016

Violet also did her research on Trypophobia and wrote an erasure poem from an article on Mental Floss.  Who knew?  I certainly did not.  Thanks for the learning as well as the poetry.

Trypophobia

skin crawls, heart flutters
shoulders tighten, I shiver
crazy revulsion to holes, bumps
images of holes, parasites
bot flies, worms, ravages of disease
pregnant suriname toad
lotus seed head
give people trypophobic
heebie jeebies
soap bubbles trigger
nightmares

~ Violet Nesdoly

Heidi Mordhorst digs into the earth to consider how an anthropologist looks at things.

Day 10
anthropology

once thought to be
an elaborately carved musical
instrument used
only on the wedding day
of a woman born under
the eleventh moon

it is now understood to be
a deliberately culled muscular
implement used
only on the winding way
of a man burned under
the oppressive soon

context is everything

Here’s another from Heidi. This one is a child’s wonderment at the things of this world.

Making Sense

First it’s something to see–
almost black among the greens and yellows,
scalloped around the edges like
crayon clouds or flowers,
clouds full of black hailstones–
or it’s a leopard-skin jellyfish.

Next it’s something to hold–
not weighty like a microphone
or a metal shower head,
but light and hollow, not plastic
and not wood, part smooth
and part ridged and rumpled.

Now it’s something to hear–
take it by the curving handle oh!
is that a stem? and shake, shake
shake–those blackish beads or
beans or oh! they’re seeds!
they make a marvelous rattling!

~Heidi Mordhorst 2016
all rights reserved

Donna Smith makes a simple poem reveal a truth of nature.  Love the alliteration, one of my favorite literary devices.  I think Donna is a little bit chilly in Maine, so she has thoughts of overcoats.

PODS

Purposefully plopping pondward
Out of open overcoat
Drooping, dropping down
Swamped seeds settle, silently sprout.

©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved

 

And Mary Lee chimes in with this little ditty.  She is a master at metaphor.

Day 10

when your plate is full —
seed ideas lined up in rows —
give thanks for fulsome seasons

–Mary Lee Hahn

 

Linda Baie finds the music in the lotus pod, the sound that remains after the blooming is done.  Is this a metaphor for life?

A Lotus Life

I remember that delicate blossom;
You burst with all life’s colors,
and the minutes moved,
the days passed.
More beyond the hues emerged.
You nourished;
we were thankful.
You gave all you were able.
At the end, the music remained,
only the music displayed.
It was enough.
Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved

 

 

To write my own poem, I turned to form and tried out a Bio-poem. Laura Purdie Salas used this form with 3rd graders this week. See her post here.

Lotus
mystical, pure, beauty, enlightened
Daughter of Bodhi
Lover of muddy water, sun, and spring
Who feels spiritual, open to the light
Who gives wisdom, joy, and peace
Who fears storms, drowning, neglect
Who would like to see the ocean (Is it as blue as me?),
tomorrow (My life is fleeting.),
and world peace (Doesn’t everyone wish for world peace?)
Who lives in Atchafalaya Swamp
Who knows noble truths
Lily of the Mud.
–Margaret Simon

And here is Laura with another of my favorite forms, a Fib poem. Read more about Fib poems here.

Lotus Pod Fibonacci
By Laura Shovan

Three
brown
pods shake
rattle, roll.
Seeds fly. We stomp them
into the ground, part of the dance.

Molly Hogan was flying under the radar with her first attempt at haiku. This challenge is pushing us all to find what form fits best.

Day 10 –My first attempt at haiku.

Autumn maracas
Invite you to merengue
Shake a leg, baby!
–Molly Hogan

Catherine Flynn found the lyrics to the life cycle of a lotus at the New York Botanical Garden.

Photo and poem by Catherine Flynn, all rights reserved.

Photo and poem by Catherine Flynn, all rights reserved.

Buffy Silverman offers another haiku, which is the ultimate nature poetic form. Hard to capture a moment in few syllables.

dried lotus pods
shriveled and moored in mud
cradle tomorrow
–Buffy Silverman

What’s a poetry parade without Charles Waters? He bounced in with this sunshine.

LOTUS FLOWER (HEY BUDS)
Fuchsia covered buds
stretch out in praise of morning
revealing their sun-shined heart.

(c) Charles Waters 2016

lotus pods
seed mysteries
three days
of flowering
rebirth
an open heart

© 2016 Jone Rush MacCulloch all rights reserved

If you have a poem for today’s found object, put it in the comments and I will add it to the post. Thanks again for joining us and for reading all the way through to the end. Mardi Gras ended yesterday, but this is a joyful parade of poems to keep you passin’ a good time!

Read Full Post »

Poetry Friday round up with Catherine at Reading to the Core.

Poetry Friday round up with Catherine at Reading to the Core.

Summer Poem Swap 2015 smaller copy

A poem gift to me from Diane Mayr begins with “Your songs are a tribute to those who/ share the neighborhood with you, but are these the songs of your heart?” These words struck a chord with me. We are singing, all of us, but are we singing the truth? Authenticity in any vocation is important, but especially true in writing. I tell my students, “I want to hear your voice when I read your writing.”

Does your voice resonate with the songs you sing?

Diane’s poem reminds us to sing about it all, the good and the bad. I want to thank my readers, my community of friends for your words of support through my sad song. I feel the love. And thanks to Diane for this special gift. I think this one will go in a frame.

Mimus polyglottus copy

Read Full Post »

Discover. Play. Build.

Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.

My week back from the break was a full week. School every day (no snow days in South Louisiana) and parent conference day on Thursday. Report cards, progress reports, IEP meetings, etc. I need another break!

This week was also full of discoveries. My husband bought my students a gift, a mini-microscope. I passed it around in the package which was covered in foreign characters, no English. Then we took out the little blue plastic thing. They tried the switches, put their eyes to the view hole, and guessed flashlight, magnifying glass–microscope! Jacob’s reaction to the discovery, “Ew! My hand is covered in fish scales.” Fun discoveries.

What is this?

What is this?

My students are loving the white boards that a grandpa made for them. Here, Erin’s lemur friend tells how to make the best Monday, What are you Reading? post. Look at the creative spelling of genre.

Erin's guide to reader

My online writing group is driving me in so many ways. I posted a section of my WIP with “draping oak.” The question, “Do oaks drape?” On a Sunday afternoon walk after a huge rain, we came to this draping oak covered in resurrection fern. I posted it on Facebook asking for help in describing this in writing. Diane Mayr responded with an image poem. She didn’t know what resurrection fern was, so she researched it. More discoveries.

Live oak tree covered in resurrection fern.

Live oak tree covered in resurrection fern.

Image by Diane Mayr

Image by Diane Mayr

Read Full Post »

Butchart Gardens vintage postcard, Victoria, B.C., Canada. Photo by John L. Barnard

Butchart Gardens vintage postcard, Victoria, B.C., Canada. Photo by John L. Barnard

Once again the postcards Laura Shovan sent me, along with Pantone colors, inspire my writing. This postcard shows the Rose Garden at Butchart Gardens in Victoria, B.C., Canada. The postcard states that the gardens were once an abandoned quarry. A quick Google search found that they are still blooming today, “over 100 years in bloom.”

Butchart Garden Haiku

Red fiesta blaze
arching overhead, a wreath
crowns this sanctuary.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

On Laura’s blog, writers are sharing their source poems. Diane Mayr wrote about the haiku in this post.

Read Full Post »