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Posts Tagged ‘found poem’

See more posts at Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life

I’ve been following Elisabeth Ellington’s blog for at least 4, maybe 5 years.  We’ve actually met in person a few times at NCTE, and when we’ve had occasion to sit next to each other, we talk incessantly like two introverts in the sea.  Elisabeth lives in South Dakota, far north from Louisiana.  Nevertheless, we connect over our love of nature.  Yesterday on her blog the dirigible plum, she wrote a post with the title, “What did you Fall in Love with Today?”

As I read her post, a poem began to write itself in my head.  I could connect emotionally to all that she wrote.  I didn’t know anything about pronghorn, so I did a Google search (something else that Elisabeth mentions loving) and found this information on the National Wildlife Federation site.

Pronghorn are one of North America’s most impressive mammals. Not only do pronghorn have the longest land migration in the continental United States, they also are the fastest land animal in North America. Pronghorn can run at speeds close to 60 miles an hour. Even more amazing than its speed is the pronghorn’s migration. Herds of pronghorn migrate 150 miles each way between Wyoming’s Upper Green River Basin and Grand Teton National Park. The only other land animal to travel farther in North America is the caribou.

I’m in Love
found poem from Elisabeth Ellington’s Slice of Life

I’m in love
with the moon
over snow-covered hills
white,
then yellow.

I’m in love
with clouds
before sunrise
Venus bright
in the East.

I’m in love
with a field of pronghorn
lying in the snow
legs curled beneath
for warmth.

I’m even in love
with this open parking spot
right in front
of my favorite coffee shop.

I’m in love
with warm fires,
curled up cats,
and always,
every day
with my mug
of coffee.

What do you love today?

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Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life March Challenge

 

Mindfulness at the breakfast table…

Coddiwomple came up on Facebook as the word of the day from Writers Write.  It means to travel in a purposeful manner towards a vague destination. I took a coddiwomple through slices and gathered lines.  I tried to put them into some sort of order that would make a poem.

I do not want to be a pencil.
I want to be a book,
corners creased, cover softened.
It would be full of white space,
held like a small silver envelope.

Simple mindfulness at the breakfast table.
My nest needs to be wide
in a Jamun tree that bears fruit
This is the time to spread my wings.
The story continues…

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Poetry Friday is with Keisha at Whispers from the Ridge

Photo by Kim Douillard

I follow Kim Douillard’s blog. She posts a weekly photo challenge. Last week’s challenge was “Path.” To me, her post was poetic, so I took words and lines and created a found poem.

Path
a found poem from Thinking through my Lens

The snail’s wet trail caught my eye.
I remember Emerson’s words–
go where there is no path
and leave a trail.

I find the sculpture;
Its path formed of trash
her artistic eye transformed
into beauty.

My own path
ebbs and flows like the tides.
I follow moments of sunshine
to clouds echoing the waves.

Seabirds above
follow an invisible path.
In the sky, agile pelicans
intersect the line of a hang glider

Causing me to wonder
what magical paths
await if we are willing
to look.
–Margaret Simon

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Poetry Friday is with Michelle at Today’s Little Ditty

 

 

I am blessed to have a group of friends who chat through Voxer.  This poem came out of a conversation on our chat.  It’s a found poem.  But the words were found from spoken words.  Their arrangement here is changed to make them flow together as a poem.  Creating a poem is a puzzle to be pieced together.  Creating a life is a puzzle to be pieced together.

 

My Presbyterian husband did his best
to make me feel guilty
about this irreverence,
this moving on.
I’m having a hard enough time
finding my voice,
finding a new perspective.

We all know things can change
in the blink of an eye.
I’m ready;
I’m creating a new story for myself
welcoming this grand adventure.

It’s all about revision,
another draft.
I want to learn something new
Maybe that’s asking too much.

We are all inching our way to that something–
who we are, who we are meant to be
So many things get in the way.
No one path will be the path.
Ultimately, we do the best we can.
I am making my way
as you are making yours.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

 

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Poetry Friday round-up is with my kind friend, Tara at a Teaching Life.

Poetry Friday round-up is with my kind friend, Tara at a Teaching Life.

When I am in need of inspiration, I take a break and check my social media feeds.  Maybe this is really just distraction, but today I followed the yellow brick road to a poem from posts on Instagram.

 

rainbows over Bonne Terre

Rainbows over Bonne Terre farm in Breaux Bridge posted by my friend Jen. Click to visit her B&B page.

Ominous sky,
Rain,
Tall cane,
Summer day.

Fat caterpillar
crawling up
Up,
Up.

The one
I’m always becoming
has caught me
again and again.*

A surprise
around every corner.
A rainbow
named Sparkle,
Endless
fascination
inside
a life.

I can’t wait
to bloom.

–Margaret Simon

*Glennon Doyle Melton

 

Photo by Dan Spiller.

Photo by Dan Spiller.

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NPM2016

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

On Wednesday, I was out of the classroom at an enrichment day for 6th graders. While I was away, my students were still writing poems. At the beginning of this National Poetry Month, I told them that they would write a poem each day. I have provided some kind of prompt activity (video, music, other poems), but this day they just chose to write. I checked our Kidblog site and found new poems. These poems were not sing-songy rhyme poems. They were serious poems about real life.

Poetry can be serious. Poetry can be spiritual, but I’ve not told my students about this aspect. However, writing in poems can bring out deep feelings even in the youngest of poets. In an effort to capture this move to deep thinking, I have found a poem in the poetry of my students.

Secrets are hidden,
the rain doesn’t care;
It’s still pouring down.

Life
shining like a precious jewel
is waiting for us.

Many don’t
know the comfort
of last words and hopes.

Rest is impossible
with all this wonder.

A found poem by Margaret Simon from poems by Lani, Tobie, Kaiden, and Erin

Follow the Progressive Poem to Deo Writer with Jone.

Follow the Progressive Poem to Deo Writer with Jone.

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NPM2016

Also inspired by Amy, quick watercolor in the sketchbook.

Also inspired by Amy, quick watercolor in the sketchbook.

The kidlitoshpere is wildly growing with poems. Amy Ludwig VanDerwater is writing daily to wonders from Wonderopolis. I found a poem in her post, How Sweet is Honeysuckle?

The line “Words live on like echoes” came from Barry Lane’s song “Sammy Miller” from Force Field for Good.

I wrote two poems today,
one from an open window with honeysuckle
and rhyme, but this time the poem
felt not ready to be shared.

Words live on like echoes…

I need to let a poem sit
read  words over and over
Trust the feeling,
Move on.

Words live on like echoes…

Poems make me happy.
Poems make me sing.
I pretend to be a mother hummingbird.
I like the sounds of words.

Words live on like echoes…

Poems make me fall in love
with hummingbirds. I want to
plant a garden of milkweed,
trumpet honeysuckle,
& love poems
for you.

Words live on like echoes.

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