Poetry Friday: Day #7 National Poetry Month

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Margaret Simon on her blog Reflections on the Teche, Here. What is Poetry Friday? Find out HERE.

On her blog, Margaret will be posting the next line of the Poetry Friday PROGRESSIVE POEM, now in delightful full swing. Thank you for hosting!

Many individual poets celebrating National Poetry Month. For example, I am posting a new haiku a day and today that will be #7.

To find out which poets are doing what on Poetry Friday during National Poetry Month, click HERE. You will find a round up of NPM blog events on Jama’s blog, Jama’s Alphabet Soup.

As I thought about the haiku for this post, I remembered this is the week when Cherry Blossoms bloom in Washington D.C. I thought they were breathtaking to look out when I lived there. The trees were a gift in 1912 from Japan to the United States. More about this interesting history HERE.

This picture gives you an idea, only a rough feel for what it’s like to walk among so many cherry blossoms.

Spring in Washington D.C.

April visitors—
pink clouds of cherry blossoms
in sky and water.

© Janice Scully 2023

Happy National Poetry Month!

National Poetry Month: One Haiku a Day.

April begins National Poetry Month! So many poets/bloggers I’ve met on Poetry Friday, have begun National Poetry Month projects. So I think it’s about time, the last hour and a half of April First, the first day of NPM, to begin a project, too.

I would like to write more of the short ancient illusive form called the haiku. It’s a familiar short form that looks easy but isn’t. So my celebration of NPM will be to try to write one haiku, maybe two a day, based on something I would like to remember, like a snapshot.

Today I discovered my first haiku while raking grass, in Central New York when it’s time for spring clean up. I wrote a second haiku this afternoon.

Outside, the ground is softening, studded with debris.

4/1/23 8AM

pine cones in April
half stuck in thick brown wet mud—
snubs springtime clean-up

©Janice Scully 2023 Draft
4/1/4PM

sudden wind, trees shake,
sunny skies switch to grey—
such a foolish day!

Janice Scully 2023 Draft

A Book Recommendation and a poem of Gratitude to Small Americans

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Mary Lee. Thank you for hosting! Be sure to stop by her excellent blog A(nother) Year of Reading.

It’s been a very sad and scary week in the news. At the end of this post, I will share a poem I wrote yesterday, to express my anger and frustration about unrestricted gun rights. By definition it has mean the erosion of safety and freedom for all who live in America.

But first, a celebration in the form of a lovely new picture book:

JUSTICE RISING: 12 Amazing Black Women in the Civil Rights Movement, by Katheryn Russell-Brown is hot off the press for 2023. Published by Viking, it begins by telling the readers that black women were “the backbone of the Civil Rights Movement.” It then goes on to prove it with short narratives of twelve “Sheroes” who organized, registered voters, wrote music and fueled the Movement.

SAY THEIR NAMES

1.  Ella Baker
2.  Ruby Bridges
3.  Claudette Colvin
4.  Dorothy Cotton
5.  Fannie Lou Hamer
6.  Correta Scott King
7.  Diane Nash
8.  Rosa Parks
9.  Bernice Johnson Reagon
10. Gloria Richardson
11. Jo Ann Robinson
12. Sheyann Webb
13. Freedom Marchers

There were several on this list who I hadn’t learned about, such as JO ANN ROBINSON (1912-1992). Maybe some readers here haven’t either. Her story began one day in Montgomery, Alabama when Jo Ann was kicked off a bus for not sitting in the back. She fought back. A year later, she led the Women’s Political Council to fight for changes in unfair bus seating rules. Later, when Rosa Parks in 1955, she led her group to print flyers to encourage Black people to stop riding busses, and begin the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

All the narratives of the “sheroes” in this book are concise, easy for young children to read and understand and are all accompanied by colorful and engaging illustrations by Kim Holt.

One of the narratives tells the story of Ruby Bridges, who was the first black child, flanked by men with badges, to integrate a school in Louisiana. Her story is the subject of a Disney Movie. Unfortunately, some parents in Florida have decided that learning about her bravery will make white kids feel bad, so this week, have banned the movie in a school. Some white children will not have the chance to be inspired by her bravery and learn how one child stood up for herself. They might need that bravery themselves someday.

I will end with something political and I debated whether to share my thoughts on this blog. It’s hard not to be political because it seems politicians hold our children’s fate in their hands.

When I worked as a doctor in and ER we had a trauma room. We saw mostly car accidents in that room in the 1980’s in Syracuse. Rarely gun shot wounds. Today the incidence of gun violence, including suicides, are more numerous and more lethal everywhere.

With unlimited gun rights, there will be unstoppable injury and murder. Gun owners are not a monolith of responsible behavior, as some gun advocates seem to imply.

Strangely, I don’t see in the midst of the horror, the outrage in gun rights advocates or a fervent desire to keep children safe. All I can come up with is that the status quo serves them. These injured innocents serve a purpose.

Gun advocates know that in order to have unrestricted gun rights, innocent lives are the price. Homicide and suicide are unavoidable in a country of four hundred million guns. This week, a dispassionate Congressman from Nashville at the scene of a school shooting stated that Congress isn’t going to fix this problem. He spoke as if the were discussing pesky pot holes in the streets.

This state of affairs inspired this:

WHAT WE OWE TO SMALL AMERICANS.  

Nine year olds
huddled under desks,
or dashing outside,
to the rat tat tat
of bullets,
or bleeding on linoleum 
near the art room
along with teachers 
janitors, 
and principals 

are paying the price
of our twisted freedom,

along with the parents
of kids at Sandy Hook 
and Nashville,
and Tops and Walmart shoppers,
living as if their lives weren’t 
about to end
in the coffee aisle
or meat department.

Will anyone dare face
the injured and dead and, 
besides thoughts 
and prayers,
say, "Thank you
for your service?" 

© Janice Scully 2023 (draft)

Thanks you if you read my grief inspired poem. Thank you, Mary Lee, for hosting. The good news is that the sun shone in Syracuse, like a beam of hope. I remain optimistic, like a lost cat that knows it will somehow, someway, find its way home.

A True Story about a Black Community’s Fight for Education

Welcome to Poetry Friday! We are hosted this week by Rose at Imagine the Possibilities HERE. Thank you for hosting, Rose!

While browsing at my local library, I found this brand new and inspiring gem: WE ARE YOUR CHILDREN TOO: Black students, white supremacists, and the battle for Americas’s schools in Prince Edward County, Virginia. This middle grade book was published in 2023 by Simon and Schuster.

The author, P. O’Connell Pearson, is a former history teacher and a children’s writer. Readers will find the stories of so many everyday Americans, black children and parents, who risked their lives to fight for a public education.

The first person we learn about is sixteen year old Barbara Johns of Farmville, VA:

" . . . during the fall of 1950, Barbara was thinking about one thing in particular.  . . .When would something be done about her school--Robert Russa Moton High School in rural Prince Edward County, Virginia? 

Her high school was cold and wet inside. There was no gym, cafeteria, and the school built for 180 students held nearly 500. The chairs and blackboards were worn out, the books outdated. The high school for white kids was just the opposite. Barbara Johns decided to organize a strike.

The author brought the time and place to life. I read the 238 pages in one day.

The author shares a great deal of African American history. But the story centers around this:

When the Supreme Court decided in 1954, with Brown V. Board of Education, that segregation in public schools was unconstitutional, The government of Prince Edward County, VA, decided to get rid of public schools altogether.

Outside the Supreme Court. Signs show white fears: RACE MIXING.

In 1959 funds were completely denied for their public schools. Public schools shuttered for five years. Most white kids, however, were able to be educated. Those who could afford it would attend a private white-only schools.

It was a dark difficult time for black children. To get an education, some were able to leave home, as young as five, to live with relatives, friends, or any other county they could find a school. The separations are heart wrenching. For those who couldn’t find a school, those five years took a huge toll in learning and future opportunity. There was a great deal of suffering. Many good people, white and black, who stepped up to help the community get through this time.

Eventually the Supreme Court stepped in again. In May 1964, it ruled that the county schools had to reopen that September. The community would struggle for years to establish schools and catch up.

I hope kids and parents will read this book. It will help them put into historical context what they are hearing and seeing today.

Barbara Johns’ old damp wet, school is now the Robert Russa Moton Museum in Farmville, VA. I’d like to visit and learn more about here and other heroes. Outside the museum is a marker about Barbara and the strike she organized in 1951. After reading the marker, one student was heard saying, “You never think that you can do something—but we did!”

Thanks for reading. It was fifty degrees today in Central New York. Spring is coming. It did rain but . . . whatever. Thank you Rose, for hosting.

An Etheree on the Arrival of Spring

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Laura Purdie Salas Here. Thank you, Laura, for hosting.

I love watching the season transform. I’m sure I’m not alone. So, I appreciated the Poetry Sisters inviting all of us to write a poem this month, an etheree, on their ongoing theme for 2023, of transformation.

Who are the Poetry Sister’s? Find their names Here on a post by Mary Lee Hahn.

What is the poetry form called “ethheree?” This link has the info in case you aren’t familiar or you’d like a review.

Winter rallied, like a dying diva at the end of an opera, and re-established it’s hold on Central New York this week with the recent nor’easter storm on 3/14/23.

Central New York, outside my door 3/14/23, quiet and still.

But spring IS coming, because it’s what happens slowly in March in Central New York.

The day following the storm, March 15, winter seemed to be tip-toeing away as if it could escape notice.

March 15, 2023, the sound of dripping trees outside.
TODAY, MARCH 15 

Change
happened,
winter-paced,
slow as hedgehogs.
Wind coaxed snow off trees.
Ice melted in sunlight.
I saw daffodils rally
deep in soil beneath last year’s leaves, 
(in my mind's eye, from experience)
to conjure yellow blossoms, about now. 

© Janice Scully 2023

The change of season and nature is a popular topic for poets, as one would expect. I opened THE COLLECTED POEMS OF WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS and discovered this short lovely poem.

LOCUST TREE IN FLOWER
By William Carlos Williams 1935

Among
of
green

stiff
old
bright

broken
branch 
come

white 
sweet
May

again.

I think the word “again” at the end adds great impact. It does, it seems, because it underlies the miracle of the natural cycles here on earth. Spring happens again and again. The old and stiff branch bears flowers again.

Thank you for hosting, Laura Purdie Salas. Happy Spring!