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Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: Poetry Friday, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 1 - 25 of 2,936
1. Poetry Friday: Shadow-Evidence by Mary Mapes Dodge

Swift o'er the sunny grass,
I saw a shadow pass
With subtle charm,-
So quick, so full of life,
With thrilling joy so rife,
I started lest, unknown,
My step - ere it was flown -
Had done it harm.

Why look up to the blue?
The bird was gone, I knew,
Far out of sight.
Steady and keen of wing,
The slight, impassioned thing,
Intent on a goal unknown,
Had held its course alone
In silent flight.

Dear little bird, and fleet,
Flinging down at my feet
Shadow for song:
More sure am I of thee -
Unseen, unheard by me -
Than of some things felt and known,
And guarded as my own,
All my life long.

- Shadow-Evidence by Mary Mapes Dodge

View all posts tagged as Poetry Friday at Bildungsroman.

View the roundup schedule at A Year of Reading.

Learn more about Poetry Friday.

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2. Poetry Friday with a review of Neon Aliens Ate my Homework and other poems

School is about to start, or has just started, for children all over the world. Now that a new school year is here, somehow it seems very appropriate to post my review of Neon Aliens Ate my Homework and other poems. After all, it won't be long before the homework blues will start, when children will be wishing that they could find a handy alien to conveniently 'eat' their not-yet-done homework assignments.

Neon Aliens Ate My Homework And Other PoemsNeon Aliens Ate my Homework and other poems
Nick Cannon
Poetry
For ages 6 to 8
Scholastic 2015, 978-0-545-72281-0
Ever since he was a boy, Nick Cannon has loved poetry, and poetry’s musical cousin, rap. He wrote his first rap-style poem when he was eight, and has been writing, in one form or another, ever since. Inspired by Shel Silverstein and by “the storytellers of the street,” Cannon has worked to create unique rhyming poems that will appeal to young readers. His hope is that his audience will discover for themselves how freeing it is to write.
   Cannon begins by honoring the man who had such a huge impact on his life. In his poem Remembering Shel, he thanks Shel Silverstein who “changed my life with just his words.” Cannon encourages readers to pick up one of Shel’s books and to discover for themselves the wonders that lie within.
   The poem that follows, Neon Aliens Ate my Homework, takes us into a story that is funny and that has a wonderful twist at the end. The poem is told through the eyes of a boy who is abducted by aliens from his home. The boy, fearing that the aliens are going to eat him, gives them his notebook and school backpack to munch on; but, alas, the aliens are still hungry. The boy then has no choice but to give them his “totally finished algebra worksheet.” Only them do the aliens let him go home.
   We go from this alien tale to a poem about the Gabulous Gazzor. This device is a five-armed robot that that does every chore that it is given. It can clean floors, do the grocery shopping, wash dishes and windows, and so much more. This seems all too good to be true but “just wait! There’s more!” because the machine does all these things without being a nuisance in any way. In short, folks, this is a machine that is “one of kind” and you should get one right now.
   Interspersed amongst the humorous poems, are poems of a different kind that address big world issues such as creativity, people who are “haters,” following in the footsteps of a much respected father, and lending a hand to those in need. These poems are both thoughtful and thought provoking. They give us a sense that though Nick Cannon loves to amuse his readers, he also likes to give them something to think about as well.
   Throughout the book the poems are illustrated by street artists who have shown their work “on walls all over the world.”

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3. Welcome

Welcome

Add your name to the birthday chart.
Look--on Wednesdays we have Art.
Choose three books for your reading box.
Let's all get ready 'cause Second Grade Rocks!




Not my very best little ditty, but it conveys the message:  I am no longer a kindergarten teacher.  I loved kindergarten and I'm sorry to leave it...but now that it's real and the room is set up (just about) I'm getting excited about 2nd grade.  The one thing I'm really grieving is that first-day-of-school Swimmy-Makes-us-Mighty-Minnows tradition.  I have some of the same kids I taught, and they are bigger and more grown up.  I don't think they want to be Minnows any more.

So, I'm starting the year with Sylvester and the Magic Pebble instead, because we have some rocks-and-soil science in the first few weeks to connect to, and we'll also be reading and working with Roxaboxen and If You Find a Rock, books I adore.  But I haven't figured out yet what we will become as a group.  "Magic Pebbles" doesn't capture the characteristics I want to emphasize, and "Mighty Magnets" is a bit of a stretch....I'm hoping it will come to me over the weekend, but if you have any suggestions, PoFolks, I'd welcome them.

The round-up today is hosted by Sylvester I mean Sylvia Vardel at Poetry For Children--enjoy the welcome there too, from Sylvia and my geographic neighbor Linda Kulp!

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4. Poetry Friday -- as the hummingbird sips the nectar


Flickr Creative Commons photo by Bill Gracey

Jan Burkins, Steve Peterson and I have collaborated on another renga. Our first renga (and notes about the form) are here. Here's our second renga:



as the hummingbird sips the nectar

I.
round moon not yet full
finds my cracker--full ‘til bitten
life full with roundness

sharp as a wheel of cheddar
smooth and creamy as brie

under the gnarled oak
an old couple tosses
dry crusts to the pigeons

we become what we take in
fresh foods, sour moods, vast ideas


II.
mountain peaks tower
above the endless plains
full -- sharp -- old -- vast -- inspiring

toward evening, golden sunlight
settled on her wrinkled face

inside she’s a girl
surprised by her reflection
in her dreams she runs

river carries silt downstream
building up the new island


III.
sweet alchemy --
orchard apples filled
by the light of a star

loose tooth lost with first bite
red orb of bittersweet

cold front passes through
scrubs away humidity
wren sings from the fence

once, he learned to see rainbows
in the oil on a street puddle

a skill important
for grownups who are often
too busy measuring

too concerned with to-do to
barter duty for beauty



When we chatted via conference call about the finished poem (on the afternoon before Steve's first day back), I loved what Jan said about the process, how it's like laying one stone out at a time, building a path as we walk forward. 

As we talked about our inspirations for each of our stanzas, or the stories behind our words, it was amazing (again) to learn from where in our lives these words had come.

I was the one who divided the poem into sections this time. I was working (probably too left-brainedly) to find a flow of meaning throughout the whole poem. While I couldn't find it throughout the whole, I did find it in these sets. 

Steve gave us our title, and I think it's quite brilliant. 

This is what I'm learning from Steve and Jan as we write together -- how to string pearls.



Sylvia has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Poetry For Children.


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5. Poetry Friday - The Box Marked Summer

As I hit the road today to enjoy one final weekend of summer and a BIG birthday (tomorrow!), I'm well into back-to-school mode as I watch my son desperately hang onto the last few days before he begins the adventure known as high school.

Today I'm sharing a poem by Bobbi Katz.

What Shall I Pack in the Box Marked "Summer"? 
by Bobbi Katz 
found in A Chorus of Cultures: Developing Literacy Through Multicultural Poetry (p. 238)

A handful of wind that I caught with a kite
A firefly’s flame in the dark of the night
The green grass of June that I tasted with toes
The flowers I knew from the tip of my nose
The clink of ice cubes in pink lemonade
The fourth of July Independence parade!
The sizzle of hot dogs, the fizzle of coke
Some pickles and mustard and barbecue smoke
The print of my fist in the palm of my mitt,
As I watched for the batter to strike out or hit
The splash of the water, the top-to-toe cool
Of a stretch-and-kick trip through a blue swimming pool
The tangle of night songs that slipped through my screen
Of crickets and insects too small to be seen
The seed pods that formed on the flowers to say
That Summer was packing her treasures away.

Poem ©Bobbi Katz. All rights reserved.


I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Sylvia Vardell at Poetry for Children. Happy poetry Friday friends!

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6. Poetry Friday - End of Summer

I'm sad to report that summer has officially been over for me for at least two weeks. However, that melancholy is always replaced by the joy of welcoming new students. 

Today I'm sharing a poem by Stanley Kunitz.

End of Summer
by Stanley Kunitz

An agitation of the air,
A perturbation of the light
Admonished me the unloved year
Would turn on its hinge that night.

I stood in the disenchanted field
Amid the stubble and the stones,
Amazed, while a small worm lisped to me
The song of my marrow-bones.



I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Catherine at Reading to the Core. Happy poetry Friday friends! 

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7. Poetry Friday: Homesick by Dorothy Frances McCrae

I hate this fog and yellow gloom,
These days of grey and amethyst;
I want to see the roses bloom,
The smiling fields by sunshine kissed-
O land of gold and burning blue!
I'm crying like a child for you!

- the closing lines of Homesick by Dorothy Frances McCrae

View all posts tagged as Poetry Friday at Bildungsroman.

View the roundup schedule at A Year of Reading.

Learn more about Poetry Friday.

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8. Poetry Friday with a review of Flicker Flash

These days many of us take artificial lights for granted. It is only when the power goes out that we realize what it is like not to have lights turn on at the flick of a switch. Here in southern Oregon we have been sitting under a pall of wildfire smoke for several weeks now, and though we still have electric lights, the sun is a pale hazy thing in the smokey sky, and often we cannot see the moon and stars at all. I miss nature's lights, which make our world such a beautiful place.

Today's poetry title celebrates lights of all kinds and I think I will go and light a candle now, to add a touch of bright sunshine to this room.

Flicker FlashFlicker Flash
Joan Bransfield Graham
Illustrated by Nancy Davis
Poetry Picture Book
For ages 5 to 7
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2003, 978-0618311026
Light, in its many forms, has a huge impact on our lives. The sun’s light greets us in the morning, and on many nights moonlight sends us off to bed. Under the covers children read another chapter of their new book by flashlight, while the flickering lights of fireflies dance in the darkness outdoors.
   In this unique poetry collection the author explores the many ways in which light touches us as we go about our days and nights. The poems are concrete poems, which means that the words are arranged on the page in such a way that they create a picture.
  For example, in her poem Candle, the text is placed so that it looks like the post of a candle, with the word candle at the top forming the flame. The poem that creates the word picture is beautifully composed telling readers of how the “quick, / exotic light, / a dancing / vision of the night” “helps erase” the darkness that is “slyly creeping / up my back.”
   In Cresent Moon, we see a simple poem smiling out at us from the page, a thin sliver of yellow in the night sky, and in Birthday Candles the words are arranged so that they look like a birthday cake, complete with four candles. The words that serve as the candles on the cake form the phrase “Happy Day” (twice) and the icing words describe how the candles are “Like shooting stars / that blaze the dark.” Even when the candles have been blown out the light from the faces “circled near” is still there.
   Other topics covered in these poems include the sun, a firefly, a match, a lightning bolt, a light bulb, a porch light, stars and the full moon, a spotlight, the light inside a fridge, a lighthouse light, and a lamp.

   Children will enjoy seeing how a poem can titillate both their eyes and their eyes, and they might even be inspired to write a light-filled concrete poem of their own.

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9. SHADE: Two Short Poems and a Picture



Sorry that I wasn't able to post last Friday. I have been having major problems with Internet connectivity--even after someone from Comcast came out to fix things. After that, things were fine...for five days. Then last Friday I couldn't connect at all. It appears that we finally have the problem solved--but I'm keeping my fingers crossed!

Last Sunday, I was able to post three back-to-school list poems on my husband's laptop. Click here to read them.

Today, I have a photograph, a thirteen-syllable haiku, and a riddle rhyme for you.



treetops
bathing in sunlight
showering shade below



**********


Beneath the trees
Where I am laid--
A lace of darkness.
I am _ _ _ _ _.


 
**********


Catherine has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Reading to the Core.


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10. the rush

Thanks once again to Tabatha for making it happen!
Well, here it is...the rush of adrenaline that comes at this time of year: the calendreal limits of the summer, the moment when projects must be finished, first days to prepare for, new classrooms to discover the delights of.  With these also come that "oh no!" feeling of realizing that some plans have to be abandoned--such as my plan to properly round up today the riches I received from my Summer Poem Swap partners this year.  Instead I offer this instadraft in your plural honor:



Summery

This is how I sum it up,
full of gratitude:
Some were early,
some were late,
colored, plain and luscious.
Some are moving,
some are still,
folded, flat and precious. 


To know that you sat,
walked, shopped, thought,
scribbled, cobbled;
To know that you sought
to say something to me,
for me, of me--
that you made your words
a gift of art--
your gifts are greater than the
sum of all their parts.

[draft] Heidi Mordhorst 2015
all rights reserved 

The round-up is in the comments today at Reading to the Core, where Catherine is grieving and the rest of us are with her. Of all things, poetry may suffice.



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11. Poetry Friday -- Unharvested


Flickr Creative Commons Photo by Gilly Walker


In this last weekend before school starts back up, I will be spending lots of time planning. I think I'm finally to the point in my career where I won't worry about accounting for every single moment of every day. I have learned to appreciate what Robert Frost describes here:


Unharvested
by Robert Frost

A scent of ripeness from over a wall.
And come to leave the routine road
And look for what had made me stall,
There sure enough was an apple tree
That had eased itself of its summer load,
And of all but its trivial foliage free,
Now breathed as light as a lady's fan.
For there had been an apple fall
As complete as the apple had given man.
The ground was one circle of solid red.

May something go always unharvested!
May much stay out of our stated plan,
Apples or something forgotten and left,
So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.



Catherine has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Reading to the Core.


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12. Dear Tomato & New Year at the Pier: Food and Forgiveness for Poetry Friday

.
Howdy, Campers--happy Poetry Friday (link at the bottom) and happy home grown veggies to all! (Did you know that August 2-8th was National Farmers Market Week? Or that August 22nd is National Honey Bee Day and September 7th is National Acorn Squash Day?)

We're blogging about going back to school this round. Esther starts us off with a review of Kate Messner's book on revision, a useful and inspiring book; JoAnn writes about using repetition and how to Write a Poem Step by Step, and you can win her book of that very title by entering the latest TeachingAuthors' book giveaway (which ends tonight at midnight) Then Carla shows how to approach the familiar How I Spent My Summer Vacation essay as a non-fiction writer, and Mary Ann tells us the story behind her wonderful book, First Grade Stinks!

Now it's my turn. I'm here to suggest two very different books for this time of year. One about food, one about forgiveness...and the new year.

As the daughter of a farmer and the sister of a sustainable agriculture journalist, I was proud to be included in Carol-Ann Hoyte's latest anthology, DEAR TOMATO ~ an International Crop of Food and Agricultural Poems.  (Great title!)


This collection,with photographs by Norie Wasserman (wonderful cover!) includes poems about small gardens, free range chickens, bees, farmers' markets, fair trade, food banks, a poem that mentions Dolores Huerta and Cesar Chavez, and more.

Any of these would be a wonderful topic for student poems, stories or a class discussion about food and farming.  And the remarkable Renee LaTulippe, at No Water River, has created what she calls "poet-a-palooza" about Dear Tomato. which includes videos of some of the poets reading their poems from this book. Many of the poems are by friends from the Kidlitosphere, including B.J.Lee, Mary Lee Hahn, Charles Waters, Michelle Heidenrich Barnes, Matt Forrest Esenwine, Bridget Magee, Buffy Silverman, Stephen Withrow, J. Patrick Lewis, Elizabeth Steinglass, and I'm sure I've missed some others. This is the book I've been giving my neighborhood gardeners with whom I trade homegrown veggies.  

Here's one of my poems from the book:

           HOE OBSERVING THE FARMER
           by April Halprin Wayland
            .
            He knows a hoe.
            Never letting go.
            Holds me steady in his grip,
            lifts me up to rip against the weight of air.
            Then he pulls me back, bearing down,
            yielding to the power of the ground.
            Holds me steady in his grip,
            never letting go.
            He knows
            a hoe.
poem (c)2015 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

my father and mother on the farm

The second book, relevant this time of year is:


The Jewish New Year--Rosh Hashanah--is on September 13-15th this year, so now is a good time to read my picture book, New Year at the Pier--a Rosh Hashanah Story  illustrated by Stephane Jorisch. Here's Dial Books for Young Readers' summary:
Izzy's favorite part of Rosh Hashanah is Tashlich, a joyous ceremony in which people apologize for the mistakes they made in the previous year and thus clean the slate as the new year begins. But there is one mistake on Izzy's I m sorry list that he's finding especially hard to say out loud.
Humor, touching moments between family and friends, and lots of information about the Jewish New Year are all combined in this lovely picture book for holiday sharing.
Winner of the Sydney Taylor Gold Medal for best Jewish picture book of the year

Here are four ways to use New Year at the Pier with kids--and adults:
1) Use it to explain to students where absent schoolmates may be during the Jewish New Year.
2) Use it to open discussions about how to apologize and forgive.
3) Use it to show how other cultures celebrate New Year.
4) Give it to someone you’ve wanted to apologize to for a long time

Click here for more activities,and for New Year rituals around the world.

 And remember to enter our latest book giveaway (which ends tonight at midnight!)

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Reading To The Core--thank you!

It's been nice chatting with you today--thanks for allowing me to share ~ April Halprin Wayland

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13. Poetry Friday: Alien by George William (A.E.) Russell

Dark glowed the vales of amethyst
Beneath an opal shroud:
The moon bud opened through the mist
Its white-fire leaves of cloud.

Through rapt at gaze with eyes of light
Looked forth the seraph seers,
The vast and wandering dream of night
Rolled on above our tears.

- Alien by George William (A.E.) Russell

View all posts tagged as Poetry Friday at Bildungsroman.

View the roundup schedule at A Year of Reading.

Learn more about Poetry Friday.

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14. Poetry Friday with a review of Something Sure smells around here: Limericks


When I was young some of the first poems I got to know well were Edward Lear's limericks. Limericks are funny, easy to learn poems that children cannot help liking; and since they are short, they also are fun to write.

Something Sure smells around here: Limericks
Something Sure Smells Around Here: Limericks Brian P. Cleary
Illustrated by Andy Rowland
Poetry
For ages 6 to 8
Millbrook, 2015, 978-1-4677-2044-1
What do you get when you combine a short rhyming poem with a joke? A limerick. These five line poems always have a rhythm, and the words at the ends of the first, second and last lines always rhyme. Though they are short, these amusing poems always tell a story of some kind that end with a ‘punchline’ that make readers smile, laugh…or groan.
   The author of this engaging book begins by offering his readers a description of what a limerick is and how such poems are constructed. In fact he walks us through the process, explaining what the “rules” of limericks are so that readers can write their own. He wraps up by reminding us that we should “have fun” when we are creating limericks.
   We then get to see for ourselves how much fun limericks are because the rest of the book is full of these laughter-filled poems. They all tell a humorous little story, and the closing line in each one will certainly put a smile on every reader’s face.
   This book is one in a series of titles about the many forms that poems can take.

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15. Poetry Friday -- 10 New Poetry Books



For my Picture Book 10 for 10 post, I chose my 10 favorite poetry books for 2015 (so far). You can read a little about each on Monday's post.

If you missed this fabulous event, for which nearly 100 teachers, librarians, professors and parents shared lists of 10 picture books (with or without a theme), you should check out the posts in the +Google Community. Hide your credit card and keep a tab open to your local library!

Heidi has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at My Juicy Little Universe.

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16. poetry friday the 14th

not that I would ever carve a tree...
Welcome one and all!  I suspect we may be a small group this week--last summer flings and all--but I also know that many of us Poetry Friday faithfuls are educators who are beginning to gear up for a new year.  This should be true for me too, but I'm holding on tooth-and-nail to "empty" summer days during which I decide what and when!  Here's a NoNotYet poem to fit that feeling....



< poem ready? NoNotYet >


Where are you in the wheel of the year?  Clicking slowly and deliciously up-up-up to the first day of school, ready to ride that roller coaster, or noticing already the drawing in of the evening light, the scatter of yellow leaves on the still-green lawn?  Or perhaps you are good at being smack in the middle of the moment...your posts should give us a clue!

Thanks for joining in this week, the last week of the Summer Poem Swap!  I look forward to sharing the riches I received next Friday.  Now then, click below to leave your link for all to follow!



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17. Poetry Friday: The Witch in the Glass by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt

"My mother says I must not pass
Too near that glass;
She is afraid that I will see
A little witch that looks like me,
With a red, red mouth to whisper low
The very thing I should not know!"

"Alack for all your mother’s care!
A bird of the air,
A wistful wind, or (I suppose
Sent by some hapless boy) a rose,
With breath too sweet, will whisper low
The very thing you should not know!"

- The Witch in the Glass by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt

View all posts tagged as Poetry Friday at Bildungsroman.

View the roundup schedule at A Year of Reading.

Learn more about Poetry Friday.

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18. don't believe me just swatch

This week at The Miss Rumphius Effect Tricia asked us to write a "timeline" poem.  I thought it was the ideal moment to write about some old watches I was dispatching during this my Summer of Declutter.  I'll say no more since I'm having a devil of a time with formatting today, except that our Poetry Friday host is none other than my local friend Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference. 



don't believe me just swatch

1
NYC 1986
sidewalk knockoff
of subway art
radiant, baby, in black and red
Thanks, Keith

 


2
London 94 and love is all around
on a Sunday I buy a new watch,
wear it to some weddings
but no one we know needs a funeral
we’re lucky






3
timetumbler 1996 flung
downunderbetween
weightless in the air over oceans
repatriated, do I come out
more polished?
 



4
Caterpillar Classroom 2001
sewing machine runs in fits and starts
patches of orangecoralpink & one red heart
4-year-olds keep me in stitches:
Mother’s Day quilt for my wrist




-Heidi Mordhorst 2015
 all rights reserved
photos from Swatch website



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19. WHEN I GET ANGRY: An Original Poem



Many years ago, I wrote a mask poem about a grizzly bear—which I have posted at Wild Rose Reader on more than one occasion. Here it is:


GRIZZLY BEAR

I’m grizzly bear. I’m fierce and fat…

And dangerous. Remember that!

My teeth are sharp as sabers.

My curvy claws can cut like saws,

And when I prowl the woods I growl

And frighten all my neighbors.

I rule the land. This forest’s mine!

I ain’t NOBODY’S valentine!

Don’t think that you can be my friend…

My dinner?

Yum!

GULP!

The End


Earlier this year, I used Grizzly Bear as a springboard for writing a poem told in the voice of a child who is having a tantrum:  

WHEN I GET ANGRY


When Iget angry, I’ma bear…

A grizzly bear

With coarse brown hair

And curvy claws that cut like saws…

And teeth that tear.

You best beware!

When Iget angry,

I clench my paws

And snap my jaws.

I prowl and growl

Around my room

And fuss and fume

And stomp the floor

And slam my door…

Till

I’m not angry anymore.

***************

Here are two picture books on the subject of of children dealing with their anger:



***************


 The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Keri Recommends this week.







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20. Poetry Friday: An Irish Wild-Flower by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt

She felt, I think, but as a wild-flower can,
Through her bright fluttering rags, the dark, the cold.
Some farthest star, remembering what man
Forgets, had warmed her little head with gold.

Above her, hollow-eyed, long blind to tears,
Leaf-cloaked, a skeleton of stone arose...
O castle-shadow of a thousand years,
Where you have fallen - is this the thing that grows?

- An Irish Wild-Flower by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt

View all posts tagged as Poetry Friday at Bildungsroman.

View the roundup schedule at A Year of Reading.

Learn more about Poetry Friday.

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21. Back-to-School Book Giveaway!

For the first time in nearly twenty years, no one in our house is going back to school! I won’t miss packing lunches or saying goodbye every day. But I am looking forward to visiting schools myself. I love working with students and teachers in poetry presentations and writing workshops. (For program details, see my web site.) 

Many teachers and writers I’ve worked with have asked for a poetry writing plan they could follow on their own. Write a Poem Step by Step is that plan, based on the workshops I present in schools. It describes a simple, logical method of writing a poem. It includes examples written by elementary school students in my workshops. And we’re giving away an autographed copy! You can enter to win below. The giveaway is set to begin on Friday, August 7, and run through Friday, August 21. 

In our neighborhood, we’ve still got time to squeeze in more summer fun before the back-to-school frenzy begins. Here’s a summertime poem from Write a Poem Step by Step.


The Beach

The waves come
and crash on shore.
Shosh, shwash, shosh, shwash
The sand is as smooth as a wooden polished floor.
The sand goes through my toes.
The day was as hot as a heating vent.
I built a sandcastle,
but the waves washed it away.
Shosh, shwash, shosh, shwash.

Sarah Ilbek, Grade 3

The line “Shosh, shwash, shosh, shwash” uses invented words that sound like waves crashing on the beach. Like many creative writers, Sarah made up words to fit her poem. I recommend using this technique sparingly and only when a reader can understand the meaning from the context.

Sarah also repeats the line “Shosh, shwash, shosh, shwash.” Watch for a Wednesday Writing Workout on using repetition in poetry next week.

Don’t forget to enter our Book Giveaway below!

Tabatha Yeatts is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup at The Opposite of Indifference. Enjoy!

JoAnn Early Macken

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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22. Poetry Friday: ISO Haiku


Once, my son found a "help wanted" ad:

Remove nest of baby copperheads
from under porch. Will pay $20.

I always wondered if anyone was desperate enough to answer.  I mean, come on---they're BABY copperheads, right?

That's the thing about classifieds. They suggest (perhaps willfully) that if only you answer them, the full story will be revealed. More likely, the truth is that if you answer the ad, you become part of the story, too.



I think the same give and take applies to poetry. Which is good, because this month, the Poetry Sisters are playing with haiku/senryu in the form of classified ads. I wrote several because I couldn't help myself.



WANTED: rain, heavy
Must pelt/soak; no peevish squalls
Will pay in fresh corn.


LOST: my perspective
No reward; meet me for cake 
mountains>molehills>crumbs.


FREE: to a good home:
One book, never read, but loved.
#coverseducedme


POETS: Start today; 
word your way up; could capture
moon in fifty years.

----all poems by Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)


Read my Poetry Sisters efforts here: Liz, Tanita, Tricia, Laura, Kelly, Andi. 

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.



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23. Poetry Seven Write Classified Ad-Haiku

Last month I believed that writing in the style of e.e. cummings was our hardest challenge. I take it back. THIS was the hardest challenge. Sometimes I find shorter forms more difficult than longer ones, and we've written to some challenging forms this year, including villanelles, sestins, raccontinos, and pantoums. So really, you'd think haiku would be a piece of cake.

But honestly, I think haiku are really hard to write. Seems ridiculous, doesn't it? But if you follow the rules (and there are lots of them), writing haiku in the spirit intended requires patience, a keen eye, and skill. Here is the formal definition of haiku and some notes about the form provided by the Haiku Society of America.
haiku is a short poem that uses imagistic language to convey the essence of an experience of nature or the season intuitively linked to the human condition. 
Most haiku in English consist of three unrhymed lines of seventeen or fewer syllables, with the middle line longest, though today's poets use a variety of line lengths and arrangements. In Japanese a typical haiku has seventeen "sounds" (on) arranged five, seven, and five. (Some translators of Japanese poetry have noted that about twelve syllables in English approximates the duration of seventeen Japanese on.) Traditional Japanese haiku include a "season word" (kigo), a word or phrase that helps identify the season of the experience recorded in the poem, and a "cutting word" (kireji), a sort of spoken punctuation that marks a pause or gives emphasis to one part of the poem. In English, season words are sometimes omitted, but the original focus on experience captured in clear images continues. The most common technique is juxtaposing two images or ideas (Japanese rensô). Punctuation, space, a line-break, or a grammatical break may substitute for a cutting word. Most haiku have no titles, and metaphors and similes are commonly avoided. (Haiku do sometimes have brief prefatory notes, usually specifying the setting or similar facts; metaphors and similes in the simple sense of these terms do sometimes occur, but not frequently. 
See, that's a lot to keep in mind for such a short poem. Perhaps that's why great haiku pack such a punch.

Never a group to do things the easy way, we added to the challenge of writing haiku by requiring that we use the form to write classified ads. And what a challenge it was! I wrote numerous pieces, most of which fell into the category of senryu.

Senryu is a Japanese poetic form similar in structure to haiku. Instead of focusing on nature and the essence of a particular moment as haiku do, senryu are concerned with human nature, political issues, and satire. While one is usually quite serious, the other is more playful. 

Here is how the Haiku Society of America defines senryu.
A senryu is a poem, structurally similar to haiku, that highlights the foibles of human nature, usually in a humorous or satiric way.
The 13th Floor Paradigm has this nice bit of history and other information on senryu.
The Senryu came into existence as an independent genre in the Edo Period (1718-1790). It is often satirical, ironical, irreverent, mundane, cynical and is about human nature, therefore about human foibles including the erotic.  It has the same form of the Haiku, but doesn’t use a seasonal word (kigo) and it doesn’t have a cutting word (keiriji)  (in reality, in English we have no direct equivalents to the keiriji, so we use what’s called a cutting phrase.) 
It would be wrong to think that Senryu is always humorous.  In fact, a Senryu could talk about divorce, sex, murder, war, jealousy, cruelty…in a word every day-to-day events in human society.
Alright, it's time to set this rambling introduction aside. I'm generally on the ball with these challenges, but this time around I wrote just over 20 poems in one day -- YESTERDAY! Here are my 3 favorite drafts.


Seasonal workers
needed - Wear boots, bring shovels
Buffalo in May

*****

Seeking teen to teach
hip old  guy to surf, tweet, blog …
once the damn thing's on

*****

Kicka$$ girl seeks boy
for whirlwind romance, mating—
head loss optional

Poems ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2015. All rights reserved.


You can read the poems written by my Poetry Seven compatriots at the links below. 

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference. Happy poetry Friday friends! 

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24. Poetry Friday -- The Lion




Why Nobody Pets the Lion at the Zoo
by John Ciardi

The morning that the world began
The Lion growled a growl at Man.

And I suspect the Lion might
(If he’d been closer) have tried a bite.

I think that’s as it ought to be
And not as it was taught to me.

I think the Lion has a right
To growl a growl and bite a bite.

(read on at The Poetry Foundation to find out what the lion really wants...)


The lion who lives in our house is having trouble keeping food down this week. It's so hard when they can't tell you what's the matter and you have to guess. We're guessing we'll stay with an all chopped poached chicken breast diet for another day, and then maybe change brands of dry food.

Tabatha has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at The Opposite of Indifference.


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25. Poetry Friday with a review of Who’s that baby: New-Baby Songs


The arrival of a new baby is an exciting and often a somewhat chaotic time. Schedules are turned upside down as the new member of the family makes his or her needs known to all, and yet, of course, the baby is treasured and loved. Today's poetry title is a celebration of that new family member and most of the poems are told through the eyes of infants.

Who’s that baby: New-Baby Songs 
Who's That Baby? New-Baby SongsSharon Creech
David Diaz
Poetry Picture Book
For infants to age 5
HarperCollins, 2005, 978-0811852319
When a new baby arrives in a household, parents are usually overwhelmed with joy and confusion. There is so much to learn about how to care for the baby - this little person who seemingly came out of nowhere to fill their lives with so many experiences and emotions.
   In this very special picture book Sharon Creech celebrates the arrival of a new baby. Her poems are so musical and lyrical that when they are read they are like a lullaby, a song just for a baby to listen to.
   Most of the poems are told from the point of view of the baby, which is charming and unusual. We hear from a little girl baby who is a “pearly girl / a bella, bella pearl am I.” Of course, we also hear from “a little boy / so full of joy.”
   One little baby tells us about how it is bundled up like a “baby burrito,” and another tells us about the way in which his father tosses him in the air as if he were a football.  Yet another new arrival tells us about its grandmothers, two big ladies who look at the baby “smiling their great big smiles.” We also meet a father who plays music for his infant “’cause he loves me,” and a mother who is warm, has “soft skin, “bright eyes,” and a “sweet smile.” The baby tells us how much it loves to be held close so that it can hear its mother’s “beat-beat heart.”
   This is the kind of poetry book that grownups will love to share with the new baby in their life. It was certainly written for babies and toddlers but it also feels as if was written for the grownups as well. 

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