Last weekend I participated in the Open Write with Ethical ELA. Erica Johnson’s prompt “Talk about Trees” inspired me to praise the state tree of both of my home states, Mississippi and Louisiana.
Buffy Silverman is hosting today’s Poetry Friday.My summer writing space
This first Friday in June is time for another Inklings challenge. I am sitting outside on my back deck hoping something will come to me soon. Heidi challenged us with this:
Write a poem that lists or explains some things that you as a woman no longer care ‘bout for whatever reason. It does not have to be because of peri/menopause. Try to replicate Melani’s deadpan delivery, if that’s possible in a poem. TWIST: include something that you DO care about, that requires you to make space by jettisoning some of the other stuff.
Mary Lee used a conversational tone that I like, so I borrowed her format to write mine.
While we’re sitting here, let me explain
For starters, I don’t care to wear mascara anymore, no more black goop that smears every time I cry which is a lot these days. I care too much sometimes and my eyes show it.
Just so you know, I care about plants, but I don’t care to bend over in the heat to pull out the weeds, so you may not think I care until the air cools (which by the way the forecast looks won’t be until October). Deal with it.
Here’s the thing, I care about family first, so I may not answer your call or text if I’m with my mom, husband, kids, or grandkids. It’s not that I don’t care about you, I do. I’ll get back to you soon enough.
And while we’re on the subject, you should know that I care about the white cat at my feet and the echo of a red cardinal in the fruit tree. I want this beautiful space I live in to last longer.
Won’t you sit with me and write your truth, too?
I would love to know if you accept the invitation to write to this prompt. Leave a comment, if you care (dare).
Be sure to check out Linda’s and Heidi’s “We Do Not Care Club” poems.
May is a month for flowers. Last week sunflowers. Today, gladiolas. My friend Mary brought me a full bouquet with a variety of colors.
I am following Georgia Heard’s calendar and on Sunday, the topic was “what quiet sounds like.”
An ode is a poem of praise. I was also inspired by Amy Ludwig Vanderwater’s Ode to Seeds “Seedsong” from Poetry Friday.
Ode to Glads
Oh, the silence in your lavender touched by white laced around a tall stalk. It’s hard to believe how you grow perfectly perched upon the soil, now delighting my kitchen table with joyful obedience. I love you.
Margaret Simon, draft
Please join me in writing a small poem of praise about May flowers. Leave your poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging words.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Kim Johnson, fellow slicer, has made a plan for her daily musings. I’m not one to make a plan. I like to be more open to what the universe is giving me to write about; however, I read Denise Krebs’ post yesterday. She sliced about the early morning. She reminded me of my daily walk.
I usually start out around 6:15, buckle up puppy Albert (who is now a year old and much better about the leash). On this particular morning, I went to my Insight Timer app for a walking meditation. I selected the first one in the queue. A soothing female voice guided me to be present in my body, to feel the breeze, to listen to the sounds around me, and to let my thoughts float in and out without giving them much notice.
Ah, yes. A walking meditation is the just right way to start my day. Sometimes my walk inspires a poem.
Notes from a Walk
I want to pick up a pile of oak leaves the pile of leaves blown from the curb, rejected into the street.
I want to hold a gathering of leaves in my hands, carry them home, make mulch. Mulch that will feed the soil.
I want to pick up all the gumballs those countless gumballs that fall from the sweetgum tree. We could create art together.
I could give you supplies: leaves and gumballs, a cardboard tube. You can make it yourself. You can make a masterpiece.
We can be a masterpiece, you and me. Margaret Simon, from 90 Ways of Community: Nurturing Safe & Inclusive Classrooms Writing One Poem at a Time (available for free download here.)
Prayer candles in St. James Episcopal Church, 2024 by Margaret Simon
I was in my childhood home church on Sunday. While the scent of incense lingered, I walked over to the columbarium to say hello to my dad. I saw the metal rack of votive candles. I decided to light a candle for my mother, in hospice care at the end stages of Alzheimer’s, and one for my daughter’s mother-in-law who is battling cancer. To light a candle for someone symbolizes the prayer intention. Do we need this symbols? I believe we can pray without them, of course, but something in me was comforted by the act of lighting.
I invite you to consider holy moments, whether they be in church or out in nature, perhaps even in the quiet of your day. We can set intentions and practice mindfulness. What are your intentions today? Write a small poem in the comments and encourage others who write with us.
Instead of empty… fill Instead of fallow… fertile Instead of loss… love Instead of lies… truth Instead of hopelessness… faith
Last Friday was World Smile Day. There are so many fun holidays on a calendar. Do you know any? I don’t usually keep up with them, but Kelly reminded me on Kelly Bennett’s Fishbowl newsletter. Today I am wearing my smiley face sweater. It just makes me happy.
photo by Danielle, 2nd grade
Poetry makes me happy, too. Here’s Kailyn’s smile poem using Kelly’s form based on the number of teeth adults have. (8-4-8-8-4)
by Kailyn, 6th grade
In July we found three young kittens in my mother-in-law’s yard. With my friend Corrine’s help, we trapped them and she willingly fostered them. Last week I gave the yellow cat “Carson” to a brother and sister that I teach. This week when we wrote poems of apology after William Carlos Williams, Marifaye wrote this poem. (I texted it to Corrine.)
The National Writing Project’s #WriteOut begins on October 13th. Next Tuesday we will be on Fall Break, so I am leading a group of kids on a Write Out writing marathon in our downtown. NWP has many resources and prompts on their site. Join in the fun!
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This is Just to Say
I have forgotten the words to that song you sang to me
and which you are probably humming in your head while you sleep.
Forgive me: I will sing along with you anyway.
Margaret Simon, after William Carlos Williams
I believe in daily poetry, but I fell off the Stanford Challenge for writing a poem a day. Lately the new book from Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram, 90 Ways of Community is helping. Each day I present one of the prompts to my students and write alongside them. They are responding so well to this daily practice. I hope you don’t mind if I share a few here. First up is a skinny poem by Grayson.
White void endless space just waiting wondering no thoughts waiting, I’m tired of waiting in this endless void, white space that is just too empty.
by Grayson, 5th grade
We’ve explored ourselves and written I am From poems.
I am from crunching leaves and windy days.
I am from books, and books, and even more books.
I am from the Bayou, and I am from the trees. I come from murky waters and lush green leaves and sturdy branches.
I am from the scratching of a pen, and the flick of a brush.
I am from the smell of cigarette smoke and an autumn evening.
I am from a household, a household holding four. A mother of books, a father of autumn, a daughter of both, and a sister of all.
by Adelyn, 6th grade
Each week I invite my students to write to a photograph. They are free to choose their own form even as I model a form for them.
Old tree Stays in the backyard Is surrounded by water and ferns Waiting outside on the porch for the sunrise Lovely morning
by Marifaye, 5th grade
If you would like to write a poem to a photo, please join me on this blog on Wednesdays: This Photo Wants to be a Poem. I wish for you daily poetry.
Bayou morning with rope swing, photo by Margaret Simon
I’ve been working through the new book 90 Ways of Community by Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram of Ethical ELA. Daily I’ve been reading a prompt to my students and writing alongside them. Today’s prompt comes from Linda Mitchell. Her original prompt suggests to find a list of words in our notebooks to write along to. Her sample poem is “Wishing Well Price List” which led me to think of the song from the musical Oliver, Who Will Buy?.
I took this photo at sunrise on Sunday morning. Hanging from our grandmother oak is a rope swing. I began to imagine how many people over the years have swung on that rope. My grandchildren don’t have the strength yet in their toddler bodies to hold on, but they love swinging the rope and running to keep it from hitting them, a game they made up.
This photo may take you on a journey to another place in your memory. Let it go and write a small poem in the comments. Respond to others with encouraging words.
Who will buy this sunglow on water?
Who will buy the fallsteam rising?
Who will buy a twist of rope to swing on?
Who will buy this changing of seasons? I find a reason to keep my spirits high wondering who will buy.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
For multiple reasons, I had a rough week last week. On Saturday, I woke up early and went to a local farmer’s market to sell books and make “zines” with kids. It was really great fun, but hot! By the time I finished, I had not eaten or had anything to drink, so I went to my daughter’s house to cool off, literally.
Maggie and I started talking about my week and the day at the market. She suggested I pull a card from her oracle deck, “Mysteries of Love” from alenahennessy.com.
The card I pulled could not have been more perfect, literally and figuratively.
This first Friday of National Poetry Month, we have an Inklings challenge brought to us by Mary Lee Hahn. Mary Lee asked us to write a haiku sequence about poetry without using the word poetry.
I’ve been on an Emily Dickinson kick watching the surreal series “Dickinson” on Apple TV and reading through a dog-eared collection of her poems. When I read Mary Lee’s challenge, I decided to write individual haiku on slips of paper from the pile on the kitchen counter. That way I could arrange them in a logical/ illogical/ artistic/creative way.
random collection of haiku
I played with the order and this is what I have, for now. One of the best parts of writing poetry is revising, so I am open to rearranging and rewording or throwing it all into the flame.
Envelope opens words release into hands timeless treasure
2. Flame rises too high under the white carnation searing joy to ash
3. Whispers of wishes within earshot of your eyes written by my hand
4. Slips of paper feathers folded in hope message delivered
5. Metaphoric company of lacewings urging me to fly
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.
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 