Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by poet Amy Ludwig Vanderwater at her blog The Poem Farm at http://thepoemfarm@amylv.com. Thank you, Amy for hosting!
Over the summer, Linda Baie sent me a packet of words. Today I spilled them out and chose one.
I often visit one of my favorite parks by Skaneateles Lake, a Finger Lakes here in Central New York. It was ninety degrees there this week, and I found a cool spot under a large tree. It is well known that lakes, the rivers and wetlands work as heat sinks. They cool the environment and make it possible for us to live on Earth.
Skaneateles Lake in New York
Recently, according to the Associated Press, the Supreme Court is removing some wetland protections from development and pollution. You can read it here: https://apnews.com/article/supreme-court-wetlands-development-biden-fe976e69bb24c937aabdf0e2868cb5f3
The decision will make it easier to develop wetlands that help protect us from the heat. There are those who are for and others against this. What do you think? It seems short sighted to see any wetland as dispensable.
So, I for my poem, from Linda’s packet of words, I chose the word “earth.” It’s simple but I don’t find taking sides on this issue difficult.
In my recent poetry swap gift, Tabatha responded to my poem, imagining what the visitors from other worlds might look like, how energy might “shape itself” in the alien world. It’s a wonderful poem, and we all might wonder if life on other planets are like us or “a new formulation, unrecognizable to us.”
VISITORS FROM OTHER WORLDS
by Tabatha Yeatts
They could be anything, couldn't they?
The possibility of cosmic life circles us like a comet,
leaves a trail of stardust we fall asleep beneath,
dreaming of creatures whose ship descends in our midst
like a ladder being lowered from the galactic attic.
They could be anything, couldn't they?
We know this because we see what's here–
long-necked, long-limbed spotted leaf-eaters,
underwater jelly dancers, nighttime light darters,
zipping sword beaks, round-tailed waterslappers.
Even wolves come in a thousand unlikely variants,
including ones we can carry with us like a yapping moon.
Energy shapes itself in startling ways– asserts itself–
is the recipe, the chef, and the waiting mouth.
What has it cooked up in other watery, windy worlds?
What life-forms are brewing, sloshing out of their primordial sea?
Are they primate-shaped, mammalian? Like us at all?
Or perhaps they are a new formulation, unrecognizable to us,
which treasures the atmosphere, the elements, the star-span
that cups the flame of their existence,
keeping it from blowing out.
Her poem arrived with a quote from Thoreau about gratitude that begins, “I am grateful for what I am and have.” I know I am grateful to Tabatha and the Poetry Friday community.
How shall I end this post? I’ll end with a haiku inspired about swimming and especially floating in a lake or a pool. For a few minutes I can make all external sounds go away and all is silent.
This week we are hosted by Linda Baie, book aficionado and poet. Thank you for hosting, Linda! Be sure to check out her post for today at her blog, Teacher Dance, http://teacherdance.org.
First, I want to recommend a new picture book.
I hope everyone will have a chance to read A BOOK FOR BEAR, written by Ellen Ramsey ( http://ellenramsey.com) and illustrated by MacKenzie Haley (http://mackenziehaley.com). Though Ellen is also a poet, this book is written in prose.
The book begins with the sentence, “Bear loved books.”
Bear, who has been listening to a girl named Ellen read stories out loud in the forest, has fallen in love with books. He loves books so much one day he says, “I want a book of my very own.”
For Bear to acquire a book of his own, will not be easy.
Together the bear and Ellen search and search for a book for Bear. They look in the obvious places, such as the library and in stores, where bears aren’t all that welcome. Still, they work hard at it, but he fails to find a book to call his very own.
Does Bear finally succeed?
Ellen’s storytelling and the colorful illustrations will keep you turning pages to discover what happens.
As a book lover, I could relate well to Ellen and Bear and loved these ardent characters. And I know there are many kids who will, too.
The back book cover.
This week, it just so happens to have just received a poetry swap gift from Linda Baie. Besides a lovely journal, a packet of words to prompt future poems, and a book of poems, she sent me an sweet and imaginative poem she wrote that she nestled in a scene she created with paper, cut-outs and a bit of cotton for clouds.
FOR WEAVING TOMORROWS
by Linda Baie
Remember gentle thoughts, when rising--
more comes with brainy exercising.
Your pen will sweep a nimbus cloud
over the waiting Gulf Stream sky.
Clouds will become the sky mail
sent from way up high.
Use them for your air-tales,
words parading by.
Now add a solar-powered smile.
Writing takes me places. I know that a pen can “sweep nimbus clouds” and become “sky mail” even if only for myself.
I read Linda’s poem as a reminder of what I have been missing this summer, that is, time with my pen poised, head in the clouds, thinking about words.
I’ll end with a haiku inspired by weather today here in Central New York.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Molly at her blog: Nix the Comfort Zone.
I have been away from Poetry Friday for a while and found I missed, not surprisingly, this community and its celebration of words, writing, and all things artistic.
I want to thank Tabatha Yeatts for organizing the summer Poetry Swap. Patricia Franzen sent me an amazing poem about a sugar pine tree, which is a beloved Sierra species. The poem came just after I visited California and had seen a Redwood forest that was returning to life after a forest fire. Patricia’s gratitude for her beloved Sugar Pine tree, which she has been observing over time, resonated.
pinus lambertiana
In death as in life
you find your home in a mixed-conifer forest
a fallen sugar pine’s twisted remains
nestled between friends
generous to a fault
you sacrificed cone and seed
to feed the insatiable
pocket mouse or ground squirrel
benevolent ruler of this alpine slope
stripped bare, yet steadfast
cavity nesters find a home
in your heartwood
Patricia Franzen July 15, 2023
She also sent a card with one of her photos of Lake Tahoe and some whimsical stickers. It was wonderful to hear from her!
This week I’m sharing a series of haiku inspired by an August of summer vegetables, brought to me in abundance from a generous neighbor. These, of course, are leeks.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by poet Marcie Flinchum Atkins Here. Thank you Marcie for hosting.
I’ve been away for a couple of weeks. I traveled to California to see my son’s wedding. While there, I met and got to know Philip’s delightful new in-laws, who are from China. Phil arranged some pre-wedding activities that included some lovely Chinese food, a trip to a State Park, and a ferry to Alcatraz Prison! It was fun and I do love history and cool souvenirs.
Because of Meng and her parents, our small family is much bigger and my world is full of new things to learn, like Chinese for instance, (at least within my limited capability). Meng was an amazing translator. I also discovered the WeChat translation app and spoke to Meng’s Mom directly.
The wedding took place at the San Francisco City Hall. I figure that since I mentioned the wedding during my last post along with a haiku, I have to follow it up with a photo. Below is Phil and Meng.
Meng and Philip
Other brides and grooms waited their turn, all so different. It was a joyful, bustling place.
The next photo is my husband and I, me wearing an emerald green scarf that is a gift from Meng’s generous parents that displays a Chinese painting from the 1100’s. No, the scarf is not that old.
Besides the good news of the wedding, one of my poems was published this week.
Lost Trail, can be found this week in the Tiny Seed Literary Journal, and I’ve written it here:
It’s been a summer full of love, and hopefully I will have time to write more poems and work on revision in the coming months. I look forward to checking out the posts from the Poetry Friday community this week.
I wish everyone a leisurely summer with time off, and some shady cool places in which to hang out. (It’s 95 degrees here in Syracuse today! I know it’s not the only sweltering place. )
Welcome to Poetry Friday! This week Poetry Friday is hosted by poet and artist Michelle Kogan HERE. Thank you for hosting.
Today, I am beginning a brief couple of week’s break from posting on Salt City Verse. It’s because I’ll be with my family celebrating our oldest son’s wedding. It seems a long while since we’ve had an important momentous event, besides holidays, to bring us together. I am excited!!
Sometimes good things happen at once. That is the case with the Flowering Dogwood blooming outside my office window. The tree is right against my window so when it blooms, it fills the window and I imagine a forest of dogwoods, though it’s only one tree.
Flowering Dogwood.
Why the name Dogwood? According to Google, one theory on the tree’s name is: “The common name dogwood comes from one colonial description of the fruit as being edible but not fit for a dog.”
I have noticed each year the small very pretty knobby red round fruit that comes after the flowers are gone. I guess I will assume that things not fit for dogs are not fit for humans, and though edible are not very tasty.
Welcome to Poetry Friday! This week we are hosted by the wonderfully talented poet and photographer, Buffy Silverman, Here. Please stop by and find out what she’s up to this week.
This week, I’m up to something captivating, at least to me: The Universe!
I’ve had many of my unanswered questions answered, at least partly, and I also have a whole host of new questions since reading FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE UNIVERSE, written by robotics scientist, Jorge Cham and physicist Daniel Whiteson. Scientists are sometimes hard to understand, but Cham and Whiteson write with wonderful clarity not to mention wonderful humor. This would be a fun read for high school kids and a must read, in my opinion, for all adults. It is perspective changing:
If you think our solar system is big and we humans are very important, you’ll change those notions fast. If you think the current conversations among some in America is about urgent things, you come to understand see how small many ideas about humanity and our entire culture have become.
Just saying.
The book covers a great deal. For example, it’s given me an appreciation for just how humongous the universe might be and also how far away other possible civilizations might be. How likely is life in other parts of the universe? Have they already been here? Will they want to meet us or not so much?
In this book you’ll find discussions about the possibility of an after life and how that might work. You might come to understand that we are all made up of the same matter, (protons, neutrons, electrons, etc) but our particles are just simply arranged differently. Could this arrangement of a person’s particles be preserved after death and the essence of “You” be transported somewhere else?
Other highlights? Definitely the chapter on Einstein’s relativity equation: Energy is equal to Mass multiplied by the speed of light squared. E=mc2.
What is mass really? I learned to think about things such as a heavy rock differently. I came to understand that a rock’s weight is not due to the sum of all it’s particles, but the ENERGY holding them all together. In fact, we weigh what we weigh because of the bonds holding all of our particles together!
The chair in the corner of your office weighs what it weighs because of energy that binds it’s particles, (such as quarks and electrons) together:
So, if you sit in this chair, you will be held up by energy, (unless of course there is a nail missing or a screw loose.)
Mass is almost entirely Energy. Here is a Golden Shovel poem I wrote from a short quote from the book.
This book has been a joy to read! I am about to re-read it because it’s the kind of knowledge I want to remember . . . and maybe because the bonds between my particles aren’t as strong as they used to be? I wonder. Who knows? Maybe they grow stronger after age 30.
Welcome to Poetry Friday! This week we are hosted by Tricia HERE. Thank you, Tricia, for hosting. I hope everyone is anticipating a peaceful summer. Mine will be a little busy and exciting, too, as our eldest son is getting married in San Francisco this summer. Big Yay!!!
There is no planning for me to do. (Another Big Yay!!!) I only hope we will get there in some appropriate wedding clothes.
I’m beginning this post with a quote.
LIVE IN THE SUNSHINE, SWIM IN THE SEA, DRINK THE WILD AIR.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, found here.)
When I visited Santa Cruz, California last winter for a family visit, we walked along the ocean walkway drinking in the wild air and sea.
I was astounded, the density of wildlife, like these cormorants below, hanging out on rocks. I wrote a haiku previously about them for National Poetry Month Here.
I saw seals swimming under a pier, and mossy rocks like these, covered with pelicans:
The natural environment here, this amazing setting, is a magnet for surfers in wet suits, with a surfing museum and monuments to celebrate the sport:
SANTA CRUZ HAIKU
Pelicans and seals
Surfers out chasing the waves—
Earth their canvas.
A memorial to surfers who lived their lives celebrating the waves:
But the sky, the ocean and the wildlife, though resilient, are fragile.
What would Santa Cruz be like without the rugged coastline, the birds, and the surfers? What would Syracuse, my home, be like without hills, lakes, and hundreds of robins to hear and watch?
What is the environment like where you live, the plants and animals that you think is special, that you’d like to protect? In the Badlands of South Dakota, below, perhaps rattlesnakes help make it a special place, to be respected.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by the talented Patricia Franz who last I heard had a bear in her kitchen! I hope there was no repeat visit. Her blog is Here. Thank you, Patricia, for hosting.
Happy Memorial Day weekend! Thank you to all our veterans and service men and women!
Today, with this holiday, I’ve been thinking about summer, because the holiday, for many, marks the beginning of summer. As I grew up in New York State the arrival of summer always meant the arrival of warmth, the hot rays of sun beating down to melt the snow and warm my skin. I’m still in New York State, and in early summer, the change seems like a miracle.
I don’t know if this works, as it’s hot off the press, but I wrote this triolet today to try to capture the change into summer, using a music metaphor.
This famous summer poem by Robert Louis Stevenson is in the public domaine. I can feel the swing ascending.
The Swing
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
I wish all children carefree safe time in the summer to be with friends and family. It’s a joy to stay outside in the evening light after dinner.
Happy Memorial Day! Is there a hot dog in your future? I hope there is in mine.
Welcome! Welcome to Poetry Friday and today I have the honor of hosting. It’s a busy weekend for me with family visiting but over the weekend read and comment on everyone’s post. Please check in with Mr. Linky at the end to add your name to share your blog.
I have been thinking about storms this week. I love watching a storm in progress, the changes in the sky, the air and the trees. I love the sound of rain and wind as long as I feel safe. I know I’m not the only one who likes to think about storms. Many writers have written and write about dramatic weather. I’ll recommend a picture book and a few poems out the very many that have been inspired by weather.
CLAP! CLAP! BOOM!: The Story of a Thunderstorm, by Laura Purdie Salas, illustrated by Elly Mackay, takes us into the heart of a storm, the sights and terrific sounds. It is written in rhyming verse that will definitely appeal to kids. It would also be fun for parents to read aloud.
We learn of a storm from it’s suspenseful onset, where we feel something is about to happen. Below, three children sense a storm is coming when they see clouds, just as we all do. We hear what they see in Purdie Salas’ lyrical verse. . . and the storm builds.
Starting low,
they grow
and grow--
white above,
now gray below.
Rustling,
murmuring
rush begins
or whispering leaves
in newborn
winds.
The climax of the storm is shown inside the book and also on the cover of the book, seen above, featuring the roiling sea and lightening bolts lighting up a craggy mountain. It’s a lovely illustration.
The storm ends with the world quiet and “shining.” Storms have satisfying arcs.
ZAP! CLAP! BOOM! is a wonderful picture book capturing stormy excitement that all humans, young and old, can share.
Besides ZAP! CLAP! BOOM!, I bought another book, a new poetry collection, with gentle rhymes and lovely art work.
I enjoy the humor and voice in THE FATHER GOOSE COLLECTION OF POETRY, by Charles Ghingha and illustrated by Sara Brezzi. I love the subtle humor, for instance, in the following short fun poem.
THUNDER BUGS
By Charles Ghigna
On stormy nights
I often wonder,
Do Lightning bugs
Make the Thunder?
What a wonderful question!
In books new or old, there is an endless number of poems for those charmed by weather. Here’s a gentler poem by Langston Hughes:
Langston Hughes 1901-1967
April Rain Song
By Langston Hughes.
Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
(The rest HERE)
And other by Elizabeth Coatsworth who was born the same year as my grandmother:
Elizabeth Coatsworth 1893-1986
SUMMER RAIN
by Elizabeth Coatsworth
What could be lovelier than to hear the summer rain
cutting across the heat as scythes cutting across grain?
Falling upon the steaming roof with sweet uproar,
Tapping and rapping wildly at the door?
(The Rest HERE)
Even with the inconvenience, I love the changes in weather within each week and within each day.
Below is a poem I wrote last year. An earlier version was published in an on line journal. But that version seemed overdone to me. I really didn’t like it. I have since cut most of it, eighty percent!, realizing that shorter is in this case much better.
