Starting Again in Poetry

A blog about children's writing and connecting with poets again.

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  • Express

    Today’s PAD writer’s Digest prompt is express. Being an art teacher, my mind immediately went to expressionism. Van Gogh’s expressive line work have always mesmerized me.

    Van Gogh knew just what to say
    with lines that curled and swirled and swayed
    while Munch expressed his greatest fears
    by simply covering his ears
    Kandinski made his colors shout
    so every item would stand out
    Marc drew horses all in blue
    Kollwitz mused on Word War Two
    Chagall drew memories, hopes and tears
    Expressionism through the years.

  • National Poetry Month

    That means I can join the many challenges to write a poem a day to a vast assortment of prompts. Today I am combining two prompts. From PAD (poem a day challenge from Writer’s Digest) I take the word seed. From Verse Love (Ethical ELA), I take the idea that our lives are landscapes(suggested opening line is: inside me). So, here goes. Day one of impromptu poetry writing and fun.

    Inside me
    is a seed
    of an idea.
    Not a plot
    or a character
    a theme
    or a mystery.
    Just one tiny seed
    that excites me
    to dream
    of the landscape
    it will grow into.

  • I Stop Somewhere

    From Relections on the Teche, Margaret writes: Poetry Friday is hosting today by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti. Susan Thomsen posted a prompt from David Lehman to use the last line of Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself as a first line to a new poem. “I stop somewhere waiting for you.”

    You can read her poem and link to other’s through the Poetry Friday responses.

    I was reading an article yesterday about the results of not using a phone ( I suppose this also means things on the phone like media, news and social media) for 12 years. The results weren’t as dramatic as one might expect. No overall sense of peace or clarity of mind on a particular subject. No particular desire to go back to nature or develop a long hidden skill. But they did talk about taking 40 minutes to watch the wind blow the grasses, and finding time to become bored. It turns out that when our mind is bored (or perhaps rested, unburdened, unoccupied) it allows our brain to explore areas and ideas that it has no time for when on a schedule. This is often when creativity sparks or ideas turn into innovations. People have said that ideas come to them on long walks, in a hot shower or right before falling asleep. Allowing more time for that brain rest allows for opportunities for new ideas. So when I had a moment of quiet, and plopped in the lounge chair to find something on TV, I stopped and thought, what if I don’t fill my head with someone else’s story.
    And reading Margaret’s post, I was inspired to write to that prompt instead of channel surfing. So here is my spontaneous attempt at a poem.

    I stop somewhere, waiting for you
    but the snow is coming down
    so hard
    that I am distracted.
    The snowflakes,
    like dancing children
    join hands
    to perform ballets in the sky.
    I can almost hear them laughing
    or is that me
    as I spin beneath the white confetti
    my arms spread wide,
    my hair, flying with abandon
    from my hatless head.
    It is only when my eyelashes
    hang heavy and wet
    and my nose tweaks with cold
    that I stop
    and reach for your hand,
    comforted to feel it’s warmth in mine
    as we tramp through the crystal drifts
    home.






  • Spiritual Journey: Thursday

    I’ve joined a new group which writes about aspects of our spiritual journeys once a month. Our February theme is Attitude. You can find out more about this here.

    We try to control our attitudes in life. But sometimes we need to acknowledge the attitude we inhabit before we can control it. There have been times, far too frequently in my life, that I have sat in my sulk of anger, knowing that my attitude wasn’t pleasant, but deciding that I was justified in it. However, just naming it can sometimes shorten an unsavorily attitude, and noticing the goodness/beauty around me can enhance a joyful attitude. Today I was thinking about the times that I wanted to hold on to an enlightened attitude, and carry it with me as long as possible.

    I remember while commuting to work, I would be drawn to the cloud patterns that filled the windshield as I drove. I would say to myself, I wish I could paint these as beautiful and as fulfilling as they make me feel in this moment. I would stare at the formations, trying to see through the various layers and colors, imagine how they overlapped and intertwined to make air feel thick or wispy thin. And I would say to myself, remember this moment. This is a happy moment. Carry it with you today.

    It may seem odd to talk to one’s self this way. But I find that too often I forget these moments of pure joy. Our minds are built to remember the bad moments, to avoid dangerous situations. We accept the good, and quickly move on in fight or flight mode as a matter of survival. Recognizing a joyful moment places that deep in my memory to call upon when my attitude needs help.

    Remember the Joy

    Snow crystal lawns sparkle

    taunting shadows

    to disappear.

    Granddaughter’s laughter,

    frosted joy

    bounding through frozen light.

    Blue skies

    radiate between branches

    like a hug.

    Enjoy the day everyone.

  • You Come Too

    I’m going out to join the new resistance

    I don’t know what I’ll do or what I’ll say

    But things have gotten worst from day to day

    I shan’t be gone long-You come too.

    I’m going out to fight against the evil

    demands for people to comply or die

    I don’t know if I’ll win, but I will try

    I shan’t be gone long. You come too.

  • What to do in a snowstorm

    With time on my hands, vowing not to go out into last week’s nor’easter, I decided to paint a mural on my art studio wall. I used to paint murals on my kid’s walls when they were young, and on the sunday school room walls when I was the director there, and even some set designing when I taught in middle school. But I haven’t done a mural in a long time. I had forgotten how much I like doing them For me, mural painting uses simpler designs, simpler palettes and plenty of room for adjustments. It’s not perfect. But it’s fun. And when making art for oneself, that is the most important part.

    I’ve had a hard time writing poetry lately. The world is filled every day with something to worry about or rage about, overpowering my thoughts and blocking out creativity. But this helps. Allowing my visual creativity to expand opens space for poetry again.

    Leaves reach out

    demanding life

    absorbing light

    gaining strength

    to grow.

    We too need time to rest

    to rebuild resilience

    and determination,

    to gather the light

    of those in Minnesota

    to do what’s right.

  • Slow Down

    As I walk around the yard,

    challenging myself

    to one more lap,

    to keep going,

    to reach my goal,

    I remind myself

    that there is no time table.

    There are no rules.

    And if I walk

    slowly

    I will still

    get where I was going.

    The pressure I put

    on myself

    isn’t necessary.

    So I listen to the birds,

    laugh at the zoomy dog

    and keep moving

    one foot

    in front of the other

    on this unusually warm

    January thaw.

  • My One Little Word

    Listen

    In the quiet of the morning

    somewhere between awake and imagination

    i pull the covers over my head

    and listen.

    Gone are the headlines

    and the commentary,

    the emotional response

    ripped from my body

    as justification

    that I care.

    In the quiet of the morning

    I listen

    to my heart beat.

    To words that bubble up from somewhere

    deep within my soul

    and know that If I take it slow

    I will survive,

    and we will all get by

    this Alice in Wonderland nightmare

    together.

  • It’s a new year

    Today I was reading on a blog, “the new year always brings new hope”. And for me, this has most often been true. But this year doesn’t feel that way. I am tired of all the politics, facing each new issue with resignation and disgust, while still wanting to somehow save the world. I see friends and families facing difficult situations, not ones that are easy to fix, but ones that require time and consideration and above all compromise as they aren’t going to get better. I need my new year’s hope.

    Reading poetry blogs help. Hearing how others see the new year as a new beginning is softening my exterior. And reading about how some poets choose “one little word” to focus on during the year, helps me to look inside for my focus word.

    So, for the month of January at least, my “one little word” is going to be listen. Not to everyone and everything, but to myself. To remember to hear my own thoughts, rather than just respond to everything around me. To slow down my ideas, and to be in the moment more often. My earworm today is:

    “Slow down, you move too fast
    You got to make the morning last
    Just kicking down the cobblestones
    Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy”

    Listen

    Listen to the silence.

    Listen to the wind.

    Listen to your heartbeat

    Let the quiet in.

    Listen to the wordsongs

    that tumble in your soul.

    Listen to your quiet mind.

    Let go of your control.

    Happy New Year everyone. Today’s Poetry Friday is with Catherine at Reading to the Core where she shares a poem for January. Be sure to stop by..

  • A Line of Poetry

    I got caught up in the whirlwind of Christmas, and didn’t get any further on this month’s daily poetry prompts. But today I wanted to take a moment to think about Poetry Friday, and maybe write a new poem. One prompt did stand out to me.

    Write about a line of poetry you want to carry into the new year.

    Well I’ve been carrying a phrase around with me for a year already. Every once in a while I think about this line and I’m still enamored of it. So today, I thought I’d approach it again, and see how friendly it would be. The line is, dust on a spider’s web.

    The lists are finished,

    crossed off and completed.

    Presents are wrapped

    and stacked under the tree.

    Cookies are baked,

    and hidden away from temptation.

    Only then, when the mind grows

    still

    like dust on a spider’s web

    can we truly understand

    the peace of the season

    filling our hearts

    with love

    and giving us hope

    for the new year.

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