Welcome to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche. Not only is she sharing some of her own awesome poems, you will also find an amazing photo by Jone Macculoch. Don’t miss them! Thank you, Margaret, for hosting.
I’m a little late this week. Hope everyone has had a good beginning of June. Today I’m sharing a photo from Cardiff, Whales. I have never seen an art project like this! It was taken by Mari, a friend of a friend, came upon it and who has given me permission to share it. Thank you, Mari! I wonder who thought up such a fanciful display.
Welcome to Poetry Friday! Today it’s hosted by the multitalented Michelle Kogan Here at More Art 4 All. Be sure to stop by and see what art and poetry Michelle has for us!
I really enjoyed and was touched by all the poems celebrating Mary Lee last week upon her retirement from teaching.
Today I’m sharing a short video I took on a whale watch in Gloucester. It was a windy, beautiful day. Because of Covid, the number of people on board the boat was limited, so it was pleasantly uncrowded. You never know when a whale will surface, but I managed to capture a mom and her calf, making the four hour trip well worth it.
After the trip, I felt silly that I was actually a little scared of going on a whale watch having recently read Moby Dick.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, Today hosted by Christie at Wondering and Wondering. Thank you for hosting, Christie! Stop by for a celebration of the amazing poet and educator Mary Lee Hahn.
This week I went to Gloucester, MA, to dog-sit a friend’s dog named Patrick. I was looking forward to it because I have not cared for a pet in a long time and this was an opportunity to see the ocean and make a new friend. My husband came too and we fell in love with this thirteen year-old golden retriever. Fortunately for us, he had a schedule and all we had to do was follow it and keep him company for a week.
I felt sad leaving him today and I’m back home in Upstate NY, but grateful to have a new friend. I thought he deserved a thank you poem.
Welcome to Poetry Friday! We are hosted today by Irene Latham HERE. Thank you for hosting, Irene! Be sure to stop by and see what she has in store for us. Also, I would like to announce the BOOK GIVEAWAY WINNER:
Carol Varsalona has won a copy of D-39: A ROBODOG’S JOURNEY, a new novel in verse by Irene Latham. Congratulations, Carol!
No, just a bit of Syracuse history and not a happy bit of history. I discovered an event that fascinated me not just because it was shocking, but that it has been so totally forgotten.
As parts of America became less rural and people crowded into cities, certain dangers cropped up that would be addressed with new laws to protect the public health. For instance, in 1841, gun powder usually stored in a lonely barn in the country, could be found stored in a crowded city neighborhood.
I had never heard of the Syracuse Gunpowder Explosion. It happened in the evening of August 20, 1841, and unless you are like me and visit the Onondaga County Historical Association, you wouldn’t have known about it.
This is NOT a picture of the 1841 fire, but it might have looked like this for a moment.
The stage was set when William Malcolm of Malcolm and Hudson Hardware, needed a place to store his 625 pounds (27 kegs) of gunpowder. Mr. Going, a man who owned a sawdust filled carpentry shop on the second floor of a two story wooden building on the busy Erie Canal, agreed. Bad idea, right? Due to the Canal, sleepy Syracuse had become a bustling town of 12,000 in 1841.
A week later at 9PM a man living nearby noticed a fire in the carpentry shop. He alerted the neighbors and the volunteer fire department. Crowds formed. Firefighters responded with usual horse drawn carriages and hand operated pumps to fight the flames. Few knew about the powder in the shop. But someone did, and yelled, “Powder! Powder! There is powder in the building!” The crowd didn’t pay attention.
Soon, an immense explosion burst upwards into the sky and shook the earth for about five seconds. All the wooden buildings nearby were burned to the ground. In the silence afterward, came moans and screams of injured people. This anonymous poem was written soon after.
"The awful scene like lightening
gleam,
And thunder, through the
place,
With cries and groans and
piteous moans,
Brought tears from every
face . . .
Numerous procession for the
grave
Now darken every street;
O, death what havoc hast
thou made!
How many hearts did weep!"
Twenty-six people, including children, and six fire fighters died and over 60 injured. Being a doctor, this shocked me as I imagined the mayhem. There were no hospitals in Syracuse. The burned and injured were simply taken home.
Since I read about them, I thought I would remember the killed and injured. We do have to move on, and we always do. As a people we forget. But I feel indebted to all of them for the federal laws today that would have made it against the law for Mr. Malcolm to store his gunpowder so carelessly in a busy city. Much of public health is common sense safety, as we have learned during the pandemic.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by poet Bridget McGee HERE at Wee Words for Wee Ones. Thank you Bridget for hosting! Be sure to stop by her blog and see what poetry musings she has for us this week.
Are you interested in winning a copy of Irene Latham’s fabulous new MG novel in verse? If so, please LEAVE A COMMENT AT THE END OF THIS POST by 5/10/21.
Irene Latham
There are many things to look forward to in 2021. One of them is the release of a Irene Latham’s newest and fast-moving novel, D-39: A Robodog’s Journey. Look for it this month, on May 21st.
The novel is written in prose poems, some divided into stanzas. The prose poem form lends itself to narrative, but it also supports Irene Latham’s playful language, full of newly minted compound words, and a main character’s voice full of energy, humor and other-worldly qualities.
Klynt Tovis, the protagonist and hero of this story is a twelve year-old girl. In the first poem of the book, like any first page of a novel, we learn just enough to spark our interest and keep us quickly turning pages to see what will happen. (FYI: In the novel, you will find the margins justified right and left, so the poems are rectangular in shape on each page. I couldn’t reproduce that here, but you get the idea.)
Hey Hi Ho ThereIt’s me, Klynt Tovis, coming to you live from a looganut farm in the Worselands.
I click the button on the ham, ears alert
for a reply. I’m not supposed to talk to
strangers, even on an old ham radio-
especially now that even low-power
unlicensed broadcasts are against the law.
But now that I’ve unburied myself from
the heap of wires and metal parts in my
room, and now that I’ve finally gotten
a signal, how can I not try it? Besides,
does it really count if no one is around
to listen?
What does this poem tell us? For one thing, Klynt greets us “Hey Hi Ho There.” This greeting is surprising and welcoming. Who wouldn’t want to know the person who greets you like this?
Then:
“It’s me, Klynt Tovis, coming to you live from a looganut farm in the worse lands.”
With this sentence we understand that we are in a different kind of place. She lives on a farm but what and where is Worselands? And what are looganuts? We are not the present or the past, at least in any recognizable world. The story seems to be taking place in the future.
We read along about the “old ham radio,” that she is trying to use even though it is “against the law.” This is an important clue into Klynt’s character. She has grit and is willing to do what she must, even break the law, to do what she must do.
In the following poems, we see what our main character wants. These are big wants, not trivial. A terrible war has separated her and her father from her mother. She wants them to be reunited. The other thing is she wants more than anything is to keep D-39, a robodog she discovers in the barn.
Why did the author chose to write this novel in prose poems? I quote from her:
“I chose to present this story in prose poems because each poem acts as a burrow, offering readers a safe place to experience invented words and a dystopian reality. The technique of using the last words of one poem to serve as the title of the next poem is a variation on a traditional “crown” of sonnets—because in Klynt’s world, the old is often bumping up against the new.“
The poems do feel like burrows full of interesting words and images. I love that the last word of each poem provides a seed for the next. The poems read like scenes that move this powerful narrative along. The narrative is tight, well constructed, which is helped by this form, in my opinion.
In terms of conflict and story, the obstacles Klynt faces in the beginning are relatively minor, such as disagreement with Dad over her new found pet.
But Irene Latham knows how to get a character into very bad trouble. The war escalates. and Klynt fights, to stay alive, to keep D-39 safe, and to undertake a dangerous winter’s journey’s North to find her mother. Will she succeed in reuniting her family? Will she and her beloved D-39 survive the war? And the ending occurs as it does in any well constructed plot: It is surprising and inevitable. Readers won’t be disappointed.
Don’t forget to comment at the end for a chance to win a copy of D-39: A Robodog’s Journey.
Have a great weekend and thank you again, Bridget, for hosting this week’s Poetry Friday!
It’s Poetry Friday, today, hosted by poet Matt Ersenwine HERE. Be sure to stop by and see what he has for us today. Thank you, Matt, for hosting.
A Clerihew is poetry for everyone. It’s a short comic or nonsensical verse, typically in two rhyming couplets with lines of unequal length and referring to a famous person. The form was begun by Edmund Clerihew Bentley in 1875 as a schoolboy:
Edmund Clerihew Bentley Said “I like my name immensely But sometimes when I’ve had a few I call myself Edmund Bentley Clerihew”
As you can tell, a clerihew is a short comic or nonsensical verse, typically in two rhyming couplets with lines of unequal length and referring to a famous person. I’ll add this as guidance:
I have written a Clerihews before about two First Ladies, Michelle Obama and Dolley Madison Here.
I’ve added two more this week to my small collection to thank the President and Vice President, on the night of his first State of the Union address and at the end their first 100 days I office.
I don’t think I have never felt such gratitude towards a president and Vice President, for their calming voices, how they include everyone, and the way they’ve helped us fight the pandemic. I can’t believe how pleasant and human they are! For that, they both deserve clerihews and even more, maybe a sonnet, sestina or a villenelle. But I’ll stick to the clerihew.
THANK YOU, MR. PRESIDENT
A slog through the mud, it’s seemed that way, Joe,
Perhaps there is someone you would like to celebrate with a clerihew. If you do sometime, please share them. In the meantime, I hope you are enjoying a little more freedom the vaccines are making possible. Last night we had our son over for dinner. Today I had coffee out with a friend, sat at tables, socially distanced, but we took our masks off. I hadn’t done this in a year!
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Catherine at Reading to the Core. Thank you, Catherine for hosting! Be sure to stop by to see what she has in store for us this week.
It’s hard to believe it’s day 23 already as we celebrate National Poetry Month. Time flies, our Progressive Poem grows and finally it’s my turn to contribute. Ruth at Thereisnosuchthingasaforsakentown, has left me two lines to choose from and then I will offer two options for the next line. This is the poem so far, the last line left to us by Leigh Anne Eck:
I’m a case of kindness – come and catch me if you can!
Easily contagious – sharing smiles is my plan.
I'll spread my joy both far and wide
As a force of nature, I’ll be undenied.
Words like, "how can I help?" will bloom in the street.
A new girl alone on the playground – let’s meet, let’s meet!
We can jump-skip together in a double-dutch round.
Over, under, jump and wonder, touch the ground.
Friends can be found when you open a door.
Side by side, let’s walk through, there’s a world to explore.
We’ll hike through a forest of towering trees.
Find a stream we can follow while we bask in the breeze.
Pull off our shoes and socks, dip our toes in the icy spring water
When you’re with friends, there’s no have to or oughter.
What could we make with leaves and litter?
Let's find pine needles, turn into vine knitters.
We'll lie on our backs and find shapes in the sky.
We giggle together: See the bird! Now we fly?
Inspired by nature, our imaginations soar.
Follow that humpback! Here, take an oar.
Ahh! Here comes a wave -- let's hold on tight!
I’m a case of kindness – come and catch me if you can!
Easily contagious – sharing smiles is my plan.
I'll spread my joy both far and wide
As a force of nature, I’ll be undenied.
Words like, "how can I help?" will bloom in the street.
A new girl alone on the playground – let’s meet, let’s meet!
We can jump-skip together in a double-dutch round.
Over, under, jump and wonder, touch the ground.
Friends can be found when you open a door.
Side by side, let’s walk through, there’s a world to explore.
We’ll hike through a forest of towering trees.
Find a stream we can follow while we bask in the breeze.
Pull off our shoes and socks, dip our toes in the icy spring water
When you’re with friends, there’s no have to or oughter.
What could we make with leaves and litter?
Let's find pine needles, turn into vine knitters.
We'll lie on our backs and find shapes in the sky.
We giggle together: See the bird! Now we fly?
Inspired by nature, our imaginations soar.
Follow that humpback! Here, take an oar.
Ahh! Here comes a wave -- let's hold on tight,
splashing and laughing, let's play until night!
Thank you, Ruth. for the interesting and lovely choices! With the first line, Kat Apel sent us on journey that could have gone in many directions. I struggled a little this week, on which direction I could take the poem. I thought I’d reflect back to the beginning or alternatively, simply continue the adventure. I offer these two options for the next two lines to Tabatha:
Catching ever more kindness, friendship, and fun,
or
When the Milky Way sparkles, and the moon’s overhead,
I can’t wait to see how this poem will resolve. Here is a list of the contributors to this years Kidlit Progressive Poem 2021:
Welcome to Poetry Friday, hosted today at Jama’s Alphabet Soup. Thank you, Jama for hosting! Stop by and see what she has in store for us!
Spring is coming to Central New York and below are two haiku inspired by this amazing season. I love the magic of early spring, who doesn’t? I love when trees come to life, before they are even full enough to cast shade. I think we can use all the beauty we can find, and these images are small bits.
I rarely have enough flowers outside to cut and bring indoors, but this spring the daffodils seemed to explode. So I picked some. I love how they arrange themselves as they lean together in a glass.
Now for some history in the midst of National Poetry Month. As you might know, I live just outside of Syracuse, New York and have always been fascinated by “Salt City” history. During the 19th Century, Syracuse was the main suppler of salt for much of the United States. It supplied the Union Army during the Civil War. Commerce was aided, of course by the Erie Canal, which was funded, to a large extent by Syracuse Salt.
The Erie Canal in Syracuse, late 1800’s
Though parts of the canal still exists outside the city, the canal seen here has been filled in to become Erie Boulevard. Many think it would have been amazing if that part of the canal still existed.
It’s Poetry Friday, today hosted at Tabatha Yeatts: The Opposite of Indifference, here. Thank you, Tabatha, for hosting. Be sure to check out what she has for us this Poetry Friday.
I have had several things on my mind this week. First, this has become a picture book week for me as I dusted off a draft of a picture book and revised it. I wanted some fresh ideas. I wanted to make it more poetic, and more illustratable.
So, I attended a picture book class through the UCLA Extension, and although I had attended picture book talks before, I wanted to think about the topic again and it was a wonderful review. I’ve always been fascinated by how pictures and text together create story. The class was taught by writers April Halprin Wayland and Alexis O’Neill, and illustrator Barney Salzberg. I found some books to place on my “to read” list, such as April’s TO RABBITTOWN, and Alexis’ LOUD MARY.
Also, as I was thinking about picture books, through Jone Rush Macculloch and her fabulous interview on 1/4/21, I discovered poet, Allan Wolf, who has a new 2021 delightful rhyming picture book, entitled NO BUDDY LIKE A BOOK. It is illustrated by the talented Brianne Farley.
It a wonderful book and all about why all of us read: It takes us places. And where does this story take us? Everywhere.
Allan Wolf begins with this quatrain:
We learn important stuff from books.
We learn to speak and think.
We learn why icebergs stay afloat . . .
and why Titanics sink
And so we visit space:
and other countries, represented by their fabulous birds. The names of these feathered creatures and the countries they are from are written under the image. The illustrations are colorful and playful. The children charming.
Wolf’s rhyming is spot on and reads without a hitch. We understand as we read and he reminds us, in case we might have forgotten:
But although these wondrous places hold
a certain fascination,
the greatest nation in the world
is my own imagination!
These are some of my thoughts during my picture book week. The Progressive Poem took an interesting twist on Rose Capelli’s blog on 1/7 and I can’t wait to see where it goes. And thanks to Margaret Simon who has organized the Progressive Poem to celebrate this year’s National Poetry Month.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Mary Lee at A YEAR OF READING, here. Thank you, Mary Lee, for hosting! Be sure to stop by to discover what poetry she has for us today.
This week, it seemed unreal that I was going to a friend’s house for a small gathering. It was lovely to sit around a table without masks, as we all had been completely vaccinated. It was warm outside and it seemed winter was over. Perhaps we were like owls having survived a forest fire, coming forth from the haze. Besides an owl, I thought of another creature to compare us to.
This came in the mail today: Naomi Shihab Nye’s EVERYTHING COMES NEXT. As I read, I was struck by how powerful the beginnings of her poems are.
Whether it be prose, a poem or a play, the beginning has to convince the reader to read on. As Billy Collins says in his MasterClass, the beginning of a poem has to welcome you in and make you feel safe in the hands of the poet. And it has to do more, of course. It has to give a reader the impression that what comes next is well worth the reader’s time.
Nye’s beginnings in this book surprised me, which is something else I love in a great poem. I’ll share two fabulous beginnings from this amazing book. Even with such short excerpts by Nye below, what surprised you? When you read them, do you want to read more?
WEDDING CAKE
Once on a plane
a woman asked me to hold her baby
and disappeared.
I figured it was safe,
our being on a plane and all.
How far could she go?
She returned one hour later . . . .
___________________
CAT PLATE
That’s what we used to do in our house,
says Lydia, when we were mad at our dad–
we served him on the cat plate.. . . .
There are many more poems in this book and they all draw you in right away, surprise you and teach about craft as well: how to welcome a reader and hook them so they keep reading.
Here’s another beginning by Nye:
THE ART OF DISAPPEARING
When they say, Don’t I know you?
say no.
____________________
I hope you all have a great weekend, and may we gradually enjoy more time with friends and family, mask-less, not socially distanced, when we’re vaccinated and it’s safe.
