For years I tried sudoku and failed over and over. I left a whole puzzle book halfway completed. As the puzzles advanced in difficulty, I gave up. I find comfort in words. I find confusion in numbers. It’s just how my brain works. So when Heidi challenged the Inklings to write a Sudoku poem, I put it off. Heidi was inspired by Mary Lee who was inspired by a Rattle poem.
My inspiration came from these things in my life:
My daughter in New Orleans wants to grow things. She planted wildflowers and she was so proud of how they bloomed, but now the heat is killing them.
Molly Hogan, an Inkling and friend, sent me some strawberry jam. She posted about strawberry picking on her Slice of Life post this week.
My husband and I went dancing. We love dancing. I wore a flowing colorful dress.
How do you fit all of those experiences of delight into one grid? I tried. Here is my experiment. I think it’s important to remember this is a puzzle, so some of the lines will puzzle the reader. I think that’s okay. Let me know if you try out this form.
This first Friday of June, the Inklings are being challenged by Molly Hogan who wrote, “I’m always startled by the dazzle of color that arrives in spring after months and months of blues and whites and greys. This month I’m inviting you to write a color poem.” Little did I know that I would be having cataract surgeries on May 23rd and 30th, so the attention to color would be all the more brilliant. I can see such vivid yellows, greens, and reds I feel I have been looking through a clouded glass bottle for a long time.
I found inspiration in this poem by Eileen Spinelli :
I have a collection of red flowers all around my house, hibiscus, bougainvillea, lily, and desert rose. I shared my first draft with the Inklings. Linda suggested that I turn my red poem upside down. It worked. Sometimes others can see more clearly what the poem needs to be.
Today Poetry Friday is hosted by Linda Baie at Teacher Dance.
Happy May! May is a time for flowers. Let me interrupt this poetry post with a gallery of flowers.
Purple salvia in the butterfly garden, red canna returned from winter, and begonias at Walmart on May Day
On May Day I stopped at Walmart just to see what they had in the Garden Center. I was wowed by coral pink and yellow begonias, a whole display of them that seemed to be punished. I had to climb over the back of the display to get to them while a worker totally ignored me because she had to put together a grill. How did she not notice the beauty that was right in her way? I only rescued five of them, but I wanted all 50! I gave away each one to people in my life who have been shoulders for the weight I carry.
Last week my student and I planted a butterfly garden in a vegetable garden box abandoned by the 4-H Club. Lowe’s gave her $200 to shop with. The purple salvia is singing to the butterflies. We haven’t seen any yet, but we are keeping the soil moist so that all our plants can thrive and invite them.
This first Friday of May, Linda Mitchell invited the Inklings to write:
Write a poem from your O-L-W for 2023 Or Find a piece of artwork that has a word(s) embedded and write an ekphrastic poem inspired by the piece Or Go to Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day (any similar site) and be inspired by a word from there Or Just write a poem–about anything that needs to be written.
Linda Mitchell, a generous open prompt for the crazy month of May
An author-friend suggested I subscribe to Kelly Bennett’s newsletter, Fishbowl, in which she prompts a 7 minute writing each week. I responded to her prompt using a May Sarton poem “Bliss” as a model poem. I borrowed a few words and was on my way. The photo is a word card that Linda M sent me for National Poetry Month, so I basically hit all points of the challenge.
The Kidlit Progressive poem for 2023 is archived here. I decided to archive the poems together, so scroll down to find 2023. Thanks to all who participated. What a fun adventure into the forest!
Today I am juggling many hats. First, I am hosting the blog roundup for Poetry Friday. If you participate, the link up will be at the end of this post. 2. I have the next line for the annual Kidlit Progressive Poem (gentle hand-off from Donna who is wearing many hats of her own lately). 3. It’s the first Friday of the month which means a challenge from an Inkling (our writing group’s cute nickname).
The Kidlit Progressive Poem is the dream-child of Irene Latham. I am carrying the torch these days which means I round up all the volunteer writers and send them a reminder if they forget. Not a terrible job, really. So far, it all seems to come together in an amazing poem by the end of the month. You can follow the progression by clicking on the links on the side bar. Six days of April means six lines. I feel like I’m cheating because the line came to me immediately. Repetition is good in a poem and so are similes. Here is the poem with my line added in italics.
Suddenly everything fell into place like raindrops hitting soil and sinking in.
When morning first poked me, I’d wished it away my mind in the mist, muddled, confused.
Was this a dream, or reality, rousing my response? The sun surged, urging me to join in its rising,
Rising like a crystal ball reflecting on morning dew.
The Inkling challenge this month comes from Mary Lee Hahn. She decided to choose random words as a prompt for a poem. The words were knuckle, denial, turn, cautious.
Molly Hogan, fellow Inkling, and I are using a calendar grid for National Poetry Month. Here’s a copy of our calendar which you are welcome to use if you need ideas. I chose to write a Fib poem, a form that uses the Fibonacci Series for syllable counts: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8. (I just realized I didn’t repeat the one syllable line. Fudge it. Too late to revise now.)
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I love to go for a walk in the morning. Getting out of the house is my problem. First, I have coffee. Then I check email and these days, write a Slice and read some Slices. Comment. I get sucked in. Even with this problem of getting out of the door, once I’m out, I’m never sorry. Most days when I get back home, there’s a mad rush to get ready for school. Somewhere in this morning routine, I try to get in some writing. Sometimes the writing happens while I am walking. Notes app, microphone on.
My grandson Leo visited this past weekend. He is highly creative. He draws with amazing design, unlike most scribblings of a 4-year old. Last week we ran into my cousin Andrew, the architect, during Mardi Gras. I showed Andrew Leo’s drawings. My daughter started a shared album about a year ago, so I have them on my phone.
Andrew told me a story about his second grade teacher. He loved to build things, and his mother, my aunt, would throw out things like paper towel tubes, boxes, and magazines, etc.. But not Andrew’s teacher. She had a box of trash just for him. An Andrew box full of scraps to build with. He has never forgotten this and may be the artist he is today because of it.
Being Mamere I collected toilet paper tubes, gumballs, and a box. Early on Saturday morning (Leo woke up at 5:30 AM), I showed him the stuff. “You can make whatever you want.” I gave him a plastic container with glue and a paintbrush and left him alone. He created something. When his mother saw it, she noticed that he had even found a wad of cat hair to add to the top of one of the towers. I placed the sculpture in my new butterfly garden to hopefully attract insects and caterpillars.
For Poetry Friday, it is the first Friday, so the Inklings (my writing group) have a new challenge. And it came from me. I asked my friends to toy with the use of anaphora (repetition) in a poem using the mentor text from Jericho Brown, Crossing. I wrote one last week that I ended up putting in the trash, so I didn’t have anything to share. Remember the walk I took? I spoke a poem into my Notes app that is my poem offering today.
Catherine Flynn of our writing group, the Inkings, put forth this challenge for our first of the month poetry challenge: “Somewhere, someone recommended the book How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. It includes “reflective pauses” and invitations for “writing and reflection.” After the poem “Work,” by Sally Bliumis-Dunn, (https://sallybliumisdunn.com/) the invitation reads: “Can you remember a time when you felt so consumed with the act of making something that you lost all sense of time and your mind seemed to clear? What allowed you to enter this mindful creative space?”
Mindful creative space is also known as Flow as defined by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. I studied his theory way back in the early 90’s when I was getting my masters in gifted education. It can be such a euphoric feeling that many creatives crave it. Like time doesn’t exist or matter. It hasn’t been happening to me lately, and this prompt challenge made me start thinking about what my blocks to flow have been.
You can read this list as a list of excuses (because they are) or as a sad list of losses. But the more I read about grief and writing and mental health, I realize that this is normal. Frustrating. Yes. But normal and as my Nikki McClure calendar reminds me, I will get through.
Calendar by Nikki McClure
Flow, not Flowing
I lost my journal, the one notebook with the instructions on how to do this thing called writing. Hiding between the books in the school backpack, and then there’s the time it takes to pack a lunch and get out the door. Not to mention the dog threw up again this morning.
I lost my godchild, the one I’d hadn’t seen in years. She was growing up, going to graduate school, doing all the things a twenty-something does without a care, yet now I care because she’s gone
and I can’t sleep or write or do anything to make all those absent years present again.
I lost my happiness, buried deep in the rains of winter, drowning out the words I want to write, need to write.
“Are you writing?” they ask. I say I am because that is what I do. Say it until it is true. This is my confession and to tell the truth, it flowed right out of me.
Margaret Simon, on-the-spot-I-need-to-post-something draft
Today is the first Friday of the month. Time for the Inklings challenge. Molly challenged us to write a poem that answers an unasked question in the spirit of Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s poem Answer. I was intrigued by the way that Mary Lee responded to this prompt by writing after Joe Cottonwood’s Because a Redwood Grove. I wanted to borrow the form and use a repeated because.
Because a Poem
Because upon entering your breath is taken away into aha, yes-and, me, too.
Because breath has power to stop your heart and fill it up again.
Because words seem to know what they are doing.
Because alongside stars, rivers flow capturing refracted light.
If you would like to join the host round-up for Spiritual Thursday 2023, fill out this form.
The first week of the month also brings Spiritual Thursday. This is a roundup of bloggers writing about their Spiritual Journey. Bob Hamera has the gathering at his blog. He selected the topic of Acceptance and Change.
I follow Faith Broussard on Instagram. Faith was a classmate of my daughter’s and she currently lives in Atlanta. On Instagram, she’s become an influencer known as Fleur-de-lis Speaks. I loved her message today, and she used my 2022 One Little Word, Enough.
My family has changed in the last year. We lost my Dad, and this month we will meet our newest granddaughter. I once had a mentor who told me that God is Change. I actually believe that God is the constant in change. God does not leave us where we are, ever. There are changes that are hard, and changes that are good. Whatever the change, our acceptance, our open arms, our breath is enough. I am enough.
Happy November! Wow, did that ever sneak up on me. The month of gratitude. The month of NCTE! (Yes, in California and I am presenting) The month before Christmas. Ah, 2022 is quickly slipping away.
Here we are with another Inkling challenge, and I, once again, put it off. Linda Mitchell challenged us to write a poem to one of the prompt words for Folktale Week. I didn’t even know there was such a thing. You can find it on Instagram: #folktaleweek, #folktaleweek2022.
I selected the word star.
Have you found the star in you?
The one that shines brightest in the dark. Your star may feel far away yet even dandelions have hidden wings. Open your wings to the wind.
Believe you can fly.
Margaret Simon, draft
I signed up for a postcard exchange through Spark: art from writing, writing from art. I received a card from our own Jone MacCulloch. It’s an illustration that wants to be a poem. Perhaps a Folktale poem? Will you take the challenge?
“Pumpkin Moon” by Jone Moon: copy of great grandfather’s Civil War letter Pumpkin inspired by Yayoi Kusama
Check out what the other Inklings have written for this challenge:
This first week of October, Mary Lee challenged our Inkling writing group to write Wordy 30 poems, based on the Wordle game in which you have 6 chances to guess a 5 letter word. The game is quite addictive, but stacking 5 letter words into a poetic verse is another level all together. Inklings were excited to give it a try, but we were unsure how strict the rule of “Only one word per line” is. I veered off on one of my drafts by writing a 3 x 10 poem using 10 letters.
For more Wordy 30 fun, check out how other Inklings met the challenge.
I shared this activity with my students. Here is one Avalyn and I wrote together about our classroom monarch caterpillar who is getting fatter by the day.
This month’s Inkling challenge was mine to create. I invited my writing group to share any poem that they may have written to This Photo Wants to be a Poem prompt. I post a photo prompt once a week on Wednesdays. My photos come from my own iPhone photos or from Instagram friend’s photos, by permission.
I enjoy the craft of writing a small poem. Many of the ones I write bring about some deeper wisdom. Often I surprise myself with these, wondering where they come from. Today I am featuring bird wisdom poems. Nature offers itself to us with its revelation of truth.
Peek in on my Inkling buddies and see what they are doing with this challenge:
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 