Some Novel Ideas

Poetry Friday- Adolescence

    The man at left is poet Frank Bidart.  I love his work.  I was lucky enough to have had Frank as a teacher at Brandeis University back in the 1980's.  He taught a class on modern poetry, and he had a lot of personal stories to add that I probably didn't appreciate at the time.  What I always appreciated, however, was Bidart's spot-on observations of life's details. 

    Adolescence is a time of incredible self-doubt, of course.  Yet at the same time, there's a feeling of invincibility and smugness, and adults are both confounded by it as well as jealous of it.  Bidart captures all of this in "Adolescence."  Enjoy.

Adolescence by Frank Bidart

He stared up into my eyes with a look
I can almost see now.

He had that look in his eyes
that bore right into mine.

I could sense that he knew I was
envious of what he was doing—; and knew that I'd

always wish I had known at the time
what he was doing was something I'd always

crave in later life, just as he did.

He was enjoying what he was doing.
The look was one of pure rapture.

He was gloating. He knew.

I still remember his look.

The round-up today is at Jama Rattigan's Alphabet Soup.

Poetry Friday- Happy Passover!

    Passover is definitely one of the biggie holidays.  I remember watching my mother clean our house for Passover when I was a girl.  I can still see her up on a step stool, reaching into the back of the cabinet to get the Passover dishes out. She'd switch out our everyday dishes for the plain white ones, and wipe down the shelves throughout the kitchen.  Sometimes I was in charge of putting the Passover silverware in the drawers.  Then came the time that my brother and I dreaded! Mom cleaned out the pantry of all hametz, the leavened food,the cereal and cookies and pretzels and pasta and just about everything in the pantry that tasted good!  Away went basically everything I ate, and in came the MATZOH.  For those of you who have never had matzoh, it's like a big cracker, and by cracker I mean piece of cardboard.  And you have to eat it with every meal for the entire holiday.  Luckily, you can spread globs of margarine or jam on matzoh and make it tasty, and by tasty I mean like cardboard with jam on it. We Jews call it the bread of affliction.

    The best part of Passover is the seders. The first and second nights of the holiday, we have a ceremonial meal, a big family feast, and tell the story of the Jews' exodus from bondage in Egypt. For my family, seders were noisy, boisterous affairs.  My grandfather, an early 20th century Russian immigrant, chanted the entire Haggadah (the seder guide and storybook) in Old World Hebrew, my cousins and I sang every Passover song as loudly as we could, and all twenty-or-so people around the table (and by table I mean my Aunt Adele's dining room table and several card tables pushed against one another) gabbed and sang and laughed and enjoyed a delicious kosher meal.

    I could go on and on about my Passover memories, but I'll refrain!  Let's get to the poetry already!  I chose this poem because I love the intimate moments this grandfather describes, in addition to his reverence for the seder cermonies.  Enjoy a piece of cardboard (and by cardboard I mean matzoh!) as you read!  Chag Sameach! And have a wonderful Easter, for those of you who get to eat bread this week!

Gabriel, Age 2, Opens the Door For Elijah

by Sanford Pinsker

My grandson gazes at the seder plate from his position

far down the table, waves his little hands in my direction,

And says, on cue and as he had practiced, "Ma zot?"

Hebrew for "What is all this?" Next year he might know

the Four Questions but for now, Ma zot is sufficient,

and we set about answering him.

True, we took a few liberties with the seder's order,

Gabriel opened the door for Elijah before the meal

In case he got cranky and his mother had to put him down.

For the record, Elijah didn't come this year,

Nor did he drink from the glass near Gabriel's plate.

But I swear I felt the prophet's presence

in the angelic face of my grandson. Both are harbingers

of that better world all of us so desperately need.

 

Poetry Friday- Just A Little Laugh

    Oh, let's just laugh a little this Friday, shall we?  Here's a silly children's poem by Kenn Nesbitt that actually made me do a spit take when I read it.  I really love children's poetry, much more than "real/adult" poetry.  I often find that "real" poetry so pretentious and unreadable.  I mean, come on, I can't be the only one who absolutely didn't get The Waste Land, can I?  I took a modern poetry class in college that was taught by a wonderful, accomplished poet named Frank Bidart.  Loved Professor Bidart.  Never laughed once all semester. But My Chicken's On the Internet?  How can you not love this?! Enjoy!

My Chicken's On the Internet by Kenn Nesbitt

My chicken's on the Internet.
She surfs the web all day.
I've tried to stop her browsing
but, so far, there's just no way.

She jumps up on the mouse
and then she flaps around like mad
to click on every hyperlink
and every pop-up ad.

She plays all sorts of chicken games.
She messages her folks.
She watches chicken videos
and forwards chicken jokes.

She writes a blog for chickens
and she uploads chicken pics.
She visits chicken chat rooms
where she clucks about her chicks.

I wouldn't mind so much
except my keyboard's now a wreck.
She hasn't learned to type yet;
she can only hunt and peck.

Image from: http://mylearningbooks.bligoo.com/tag/concurso

Poetry Friday- Do the Ku!

    Sunday, March 14th, was Pi Day.  But who's in school on Sunday?  Our seventh grade celebrated this auspicious, math-lovin' day on Friday, the 12th.  Not 3.14, but who's counting?

    It was a great day of fun. pi-related activities that happened to fall on the last day before spring break.  The kids were ready for a break, and so were the teachers!  The core class teachers planned an internet scavenger hunt all about pi, pi games, and my activity, a Piku poetry slam.  As I told the kids, it was time to "Do the Ku!"

    So, what is Piku? Well, it's a poem of sorts, like a haiku.  But instead of the 5-7-5 format of haiku, Piku uses pi as its base.  The number of syllables in each line of the poem corresponds to the numbers in pi.  In other words, as pi is 3.141592653..., the first line of the Piku contains three syllables, the second line contains one syllable, the third line contains four syllables, and so on. 

    Now, I'm the first one to admit that the Piku poems are not my students' most heady and intellectual pieces.  I gave them free reign as far as their poems' topics.  So, there were a lot of poems about spring break, breakfast cereals, dogs, and how hot it was in my room that morning.  But, it was a blast!  What a riot it is to look around the room at a bunch of 7th grade faces pinched in concentration, fingers thumping out syllables on their desks or hands clapping out syllables like they learned in the Lower School.  The biggest debate of the day: Does "favorite" contain two syllables or three? (They used it both ways, depending on how many syllables they needed at the moment!)  

    I had to okay their rough drafts before they could go onto the final draft.  My fingers were thumping away, too!  Here are two of my fav-o-rites:

Spring Piku by Claire G.

3            Leaves flutter

1            wind

4            whispers softly

1            sky

5            clear blue happiness

9            the sun is bright and cheerful, balmy

2            flowers

6            blue, pink, purple, green, white

5            the grass is so soft

3            I love spring!

 

Untitled by Mario B.

3            Michigan

1            skis

4            on the crisp snow

1            fast

5            as I fly on snow

9            Hit the jump, spring forward into flight

2            I’m free

6            More free than a birdie

5            Oh yes, a birdie

 

I am the Poetry Friday host this week.  Please leave your links as comments to this post, and I'll add them as the day unfolds.  Thanks, everyone!  Enjoy spring!

Poetry Friday posts:

Danika from TeachingBooks.net shares original audio featuring 2009 Pura Belpre winner and Newbery Honor recipient Margarita Engle reading a poem aloud from her award-winning book The Surrender Tree:     http://forum.teachingbooks.net/?p=3559

Laura Salas has "Fortune" by Dobby Gibson up at http://laurasalas.livejournal.com/206023.html.as well as15 Words or Less poems by anyone who wants to participate at http://laurasalas.livejournal.com/205724.html. Come join in!

"Tell Me" is posted on the Father Goose blog at
http://www.charlesghigna.blogspot.com

Today Laura at TeachPoetryk12 offers an essay about how to identify stressed and unstressed syllables along with a poem by Seamus Heaney at http://tinyurl.com/ybuqy6w

Gregory K.at GottaBook has a re-issue of his own poem Air Guitar:
http://gottabook.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-re-issue-air-guitar.html

Over at The Drift Record today, Julie is thinking about ferry boats and has a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay titled RECUERDO. 

Today Mary Lee at A Year of Reading is going public with her Personal Poetry Month Challenge:
http://readingyear.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-gonna-verse-you.html

Jama is lounging on her fainting couch with a song by Noel Coward, "Something on a Tray": http://jamarattigan.livejournal.com/392737.html.

Sara Lewis Holmes is in with Rilke's life-changing poem, Archaic Torso of Apollo.

Alison Stevens offers a haiku celebrating spring and a short book review at http://alisonstevens.blogspot.com/2010/03/on-day-you-were-born.html.

Andromeda Jazmon from A Wrung Sponge is joining FP today with "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee" lyrics & video here: http://awrungsponge.blogspot.com/2010/03/buddy-my-7-year-old-has-begun-to-play.html

Christine M. is in with part 3 of an original poem by her 13 year old at http://simpleordinary.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-tessa-in-wonderland-part.html

At Homeschooling on the Run, Megan gives us a poem by Ezra Pound! http://ettinsmuir.wordpress.com/2010/03/19/poetry-friday-ezra-pound/

Jeannine wrote about Margarita Engle's new verse novel, The Firefly Letters at http://jeannineatkins.livejournal.com

At Random Noodling www.randomnoodling.com Diane has a colorful poem from Amy Lowell called "Thompson's Lunch Room--Grand Central Station."

Kurious Kitty looks at Bright Wings: An Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds www.kuriouskitty.blogspot.com, and at KKsKwotes there is a quote by Billy Collins taken from the introduction to Bright Wings www.kkskwotes.blogspot.com .

The Write Sisters look at Knock on Wood: Poems About Superstitions by Janet S. Wong www.thewritesisters.blogspot.com .

Heidi's in today with a classic from Countee Cullen.
http://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/2010/03/all-that-we-remember.html

Read Ruth's post, a spring poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, at: http://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-spring_19.html

Jone at Check It Out has an interview with Oregon author, Susan Blackaby and her new poetry book, Nest, Nook and Cranny.

http://maclibrary.wordpress.com/2010/03/19/poetry-friday-susan-blackaby-interview/

At Wild Rose Reader, Elaine has reviews and excerpts from three fine picture books in verse that are wonderful for reading aloud at this time of year: Bear Wants More; Pigs in the Mud in the Middle of the Rud; and Waddle, Waddle, Quack, Quack, Quack. http://wildrosereader.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-pictures-books-in-verse.html  At Blue Rose Girls, she also has two original spring acrostics that she previously posted at Wild Rose Reader:
http://bluerosegirls.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-spring-acrostics.html

Laura from Author Amok left a message: Hi, everyone. I'm not posting this week, but the Dodge Foundation is!!! Check out their clip of Gerald Stern from the 2008 Dodge Poetry Festival. http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/03/19/poetry-fridays-gerald-stern/

Tabatha posted a link to a Pi version of the Raven today, http://www.tabathayeatts.com/poetryfriday.htm, along with "The End of the Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe's cat.

Karen Edmisten says: I'm in this week, and it's here:http://karenedmisten.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-trust.html

Charlotte's in with The Horses, by Edward Muir -- a poem that fans of post-apocalyptic fiction, in particular, should like lots.http://charlotteslibrary.blogspot.com/2010/03/horses-by-edward-muir-poem-that-fans-of.html

Kelly Fineman has given us an exceedingly short poem about a woodpecker. Here's the link: http://kellyrfineman.livejournal.com/540546.html

Here's Doraine Bennett's post from Dori Reads: http://dorireads.blogspot.com/

Kristen offers an original poem that hearkens back to childhood, called "Lessons on Swimming": http://womanwithmonsters.blogspot.com/2010/03/dont-drink-water_16.html

From Becky at Becky's Book Reviews, a review of Too Much Kissing by Alan Katz: http://zero-to-eight.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-too-much-kissing.html

Librarian ninja Jennie has some lyrics from The Secret Garden musical, to celebrate the start of spring. http://www.jenrothschild.com/2010/03/poetry-friday_19.html

Over at The Cazzy Files, you'll find a video trailer for Sara Teasdale's "There Will Come Soft Rains." http://thecazzyfiles.typepad.com/the-cazzy-files/2010/03/poetry-friday-soft-rains.html

Jules (Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast) says: I'm late, but here's my contribution: http://blaine.org/sevenimpossiblethings/?p=1908, a poem by Deborah Garrison.

A few late entries:

Brianne at Language, Literacy, Love offers: http://languageliteracylove.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-discussing-poetry-whip.html 

Erin is in with an original poem called 'everything has meaning'--
http://misserinmarie.blogspot.com/2010/03/everything-has-meaning-she-yelled-it.html

Doret tells us: This is my first time taking part in Poetry Friday. Fortune's Bones by Marilyn Nelson http://thehappynappybookseller.blogspot.com/2010/03/fortunes-bones-marilyn-nelson.html

Welcome, Doret!

And one more...

Priya is in with an original haiku: http://priyaganesan.blogspot.com/2010/03/fairies.html

Poetry Friday- Gary Soto

    How great is Gary Soto?  When you need a poem for a lesson to teach just about anything- figurative language, symbolism, theme- he's there for you.  This week, I wanted to post a poem about teaching, the joy, the frustration, the beauty, of teaching.  And what did I find?  This gem from Gary Soto:

Teaching English from an Old Composition Book

by Gary Soto

My chalk is no longer than a chip of fingernail,

Chip by which I must explain this Monday

Night the verbs “to get;” “to wear,” “to cut.”

I’m not given much, these tired students,

Knuckle-wrapped from work as roofers,

Sour from scrubbing toilets and pedestal sinks.

I’m given this room with five windows,

A coffee machine, a piano with busted strings,

The music of how we feel as the sun falls,

Exhausted from keeping up.

                                       I stand at

The blackboard. The chalk is worn to a hangnail,

Nearly gone, the dust of some educational bone.

By and by I’m Cantiflas, the comic

Busybody in front. I say, “I get the coffee.”

I pick up a coffee cup and sip.

I click my heels and say, “I wear my shoes.”

I bring an invisible fork to my mouth

And say, “I eat the chicken.”

Suddenly the class is alive—

Each one putting on hats and shoes,

Drinking sodas and beers, cutting flowers

And steaks—a pantomime of sumptuous living.

(You can read the rest of the poem at: http://www.poetryfoundation.org)

What I couldn't find online is Soto's amazing ode to a little boy's tennis shoes.  Hopefully, I can locate it.  You'll love it.

Soto has written a number of excellent books, including Baseball in April, Petty Crimes, and Too Many Tamales. He has a unique voice, and uses language beautifully.  Enjoy! 

Poetry Friday- Happy Birthday to Me!

    Yep...Major day for me tomorrow...Turning the big 4-3.  My husband had a great idea.  He said to tell everyone I'm 53, so they'll all think I look incredible for my age. I remember the days when I would become really aggravated when I'd get carded at a bar even though I'd passed 21 a decade earlier.  Now...anyone want to check my driver's license?

Crossroads
by Joyce Sutphen
The second half of my life will be black to the white rind of the old and fading moon. The second half of my life will be water over the cracked floor of these desert years. I will land on my feet this time, knowing at least two languages and who my friends are. I will dress for the occasion, and my hair shall be whatever color I please. Everyone will go on celebrating the old birthday, counting the years as usual, but I will count myself new from this inception, this imprint of my own desire. The second half of my life will be swift, past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder, asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road. The second half of my life will be wide-eyed, fingers shifting through fine sands, arms loose at my sides, wandering feet. There will be new dreams every night, and the drapes will never be closed. I will toss my string of keys into a deep well and old letters into the grate. The second half of my life will be ice breaking up on the river, rain soaking the fields, a hand held out, a fire, and smoke going upward, always up.

Poetry Friday- Parenthood

It's been a bit of a rough week here in Central Ohio.  And it's been a bit of a rough week in my home here in Central Ohio.  Too much snow, too much time in the house with the kids (ages 15 and 12), too many trips to the pediatrician's office... Just too much, if you know what I mean. The week got me thinking: What is parenthood? It seems to me, it's kind of like being inside a lion:

I am writing these poems
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.
So please excuse the handwriting
Which may not be too clear.
But this afternoon by the lion's cage
I'm afraid I got too near.
And I'm writing these lines
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.

I doubt Shel Silverstein meant this poem as anything more than whimsical, but to me, it's a metaphor.

Thank goodness the weekend is here!!!

Poetry Friday- I'm in the Mood For Love...

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

by e.e.cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

I'm really not a hopeless romantic like e.e.cummings, but this poem is irresistable.  It's also perfect for Valentine's Day.  Never seen "Hannah and Her Sisters"?  Here's the clip...Barbara Hershey and Michael Caine...an odd couple, certainly, yet in New York, in a dusty used bookshop, a fragile beginning.  Love, love, love...Woody Allen captures it here.  Enjoy, and have a hugely romantic Valentine's Day!