Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Friday, January 13, 2017

Poetry Friday

Small Things Help Too


Today I fed the birds.
Sometimes the world can feel
like one horrible ball of pain.
If you're like me, you ask yourself,
what can I do?
What can I possibly do?
Some days we find big things to do.
Serve the needy.
Feed the hungry.
Give to a good cause.
As I watched the birds scamper
around the yard, eating the seeds,
my heart rate slowed,
my brain calmed
and for a moment, 
the world 
felt peaceful.
It wasn't a big thing.
Not even close.
But the change 
in my world
felt 
BIG.
There's always
something we can do,
isn't there?
Today I fed the birds.
And today the birds fed me.



Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Meditating with Poetry

I find poetry soothing. Especially poetry that has been around a long, long time. There is something about reading words written long ago that have stood the test of time that I find comforting. I was sharing these thoughts with a writing friend the other day, telling her how sometimes I'll take a little break and pull a poetry book off my bookshelf and fill myself with the beautiful words for a few minutes. She said, "It's like meditating with poetry."

Yes. That's exactly what it is.

If you'd like to add some poetry meditation into your day, I highly recommend it. Here is one, from one of my favorite poets, Sarah Teasdale, to get you started. Her work is in the public domain.

THE NEW MOON
by Sarah Teasdale

Day, you have bruised and beaten me,
As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,
Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
Left me nothing lovely or whole --
Yes I have wrested a gift from you,
Day that dies in dusky blue:

For suddenly over the factories
I saw a moon in the cloudy seas --
a wisp of beauty all alone
In a world as hard and gray as stone --
Oh who could be bitter and want to die
When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?



Friday, April 25, 2014

Progressive Poem, Day 26


For the past few years, Irene Latham has organized a progressive poem to celebrate National Poetry Month. She's at it again this year, and lucky me, I get to be a part of it!

The poem below has traveled across the kidlitosphere, visiting many different blogs and growing as each participant adds a line. So far, 25 people have added a line to create this masterpiece. I'm the 26th, which means it's my turn to propel our poem forward. 

Our dreamer has been hiking for days, but stops to rest for the night, when a wild ocean boy, of sorts, joins her. As I considered my line, and the fact that we only have four more days for the poem, I wanted an opportunity for our traveler to reflect on her journey, and perhaps impart some wisdom to our guest. 

Sitting on a rock, airing out my feelings to the universe
Acting like a peacock, only making matters that much worse;
Should I trumpet like an elephant emoting to the moon,
Or just ignore the warnings written in the rune?
Those stars can’t seal my future; it’s not inscribed in stone.
The possibilities are endless! Who could have known?
Gathering courage, spiral like an eagle after prey
Then gird my wings for whirlwind gales in realms far, far away.
But, hold it! Let’s get practical! What’s needed before I go?
Time to be tactical— I’ll ask my friends what I should stow.
And in one breath, a honeyed word whispered low— dreams —
Whose voice? I turned to see. I was shocked. Irene’s!
“Each voyage starts with tattered maps; your dreams dance on this page.
Determine these dreams—then breathe them! Engage your inner sage.”
The merry hen said, “Take my sapphire eggs to charm your host.”
I tuck them close – still warm – then take my first step toward the coast
This journey will not make me rich, and yet I long to be
like luminescent jellyfish, awash in mystery.
I turn and whisper, “Won’t you come?” to all the beasts and birds,
and listen while they scamper, their answers winging words:
“Take these steps alone to start; each journey is an art.
You are your own best company. Now it's time to depart!"
I blow a kiss. I hike for days, blue eggs pressed to my chest.
One evening's rest, campfire low, shifting shadows brought a guest.
A boy, with hair in wild waves and eyes blue as the sea, 
says, "You've traveled far. What did you find -- your best discovery?"


I'm so excited to see where we go from here. Take it away, Kate! (You can see the next line of the poem tomorrow at Live Your Poem).

Here are all of the wonderful poets who have helped create this magical poem. I'm thankful to have been a part of this great group. And a big thanks to Irene for organizing all of us!

1 Charles at Poetry Time
2 Joy at Joy Acey
3 Donna at Mainely Write
4 Anastasia at Poet! Poet!
5 Carrie at Story Patch
6 Sheila at Sheila Renfro
7 Pat at Writer on a Horse
8 Matt at Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme
9 Diane at Random Noodling
10 Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference
11 Linda at Write Time
12 Mary Lee at A Year of Reading
13 Janet at Live Your Poem
14 Deborah at Show--Not Tell
15 Tamera at The Writer's Whimsy
16 Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge
17 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche
18 Irene at Live Your Poem
19 Julie at The Drift Record
20 Buffy at Buffy Silverman
21 Renee at No Water River
22 Laura at Author Amok
23 Amy at The Poem Farm
24 Linda at TeacherDance
25 Michelle at Today's Little Ditty
26 Lisa at Lisa Schroeder Books
27 Kate at Live Your Poem
28 Caroline at Caroline Starr Rose
29 Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town
30 Tara at A Teaching Life

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Some poetry by Sara Teasdale

I stumbled across Sara Teasdale's poetry when I was writing Falling for You. I needed a poet that Ella, the elderly woman Rae meets and befriends, admired, and it had to be one that had work in the public domain, so we wouldn't have to deal with permissions and all of that messy stuff, because I wanted to put pieces of a couple of poems in my book. What a gem I discovered.

Sara Teasdale's poetry is so lovely. Although many of her poems can be found on the internet, I ended up buying myself a book of her poetry, FLAME AND SHADOW, published in 1928. It is in really good condition, considering it's over eighty years old, and I now consider it one of my greatest treasures. I simply adore this book.



I think everyone should have at least one poetry book they love on their shelves. There is something so comforting, to me at least, about reading poetry. This morning, I've been feeling anxious about some things. But I went to my shelf, picked up this book, and started reading. And her words just washed it all away. She writes of pain, of death, of joy, of love. It's all there, and suddenly, I have a friend who understands whatever I'm feeling at the moment. What a gift.


MEADOWLARKS

In the silver light after a storm,
Under dripping boughs of bright new green,
I take the low path to hear the meadowlarks
Alone and high-hearted as if I were queen.

What have I to fear in life or death
Who have known three things: the kiss in the night,
The white flying joy when a song is born,
And meadowlarks whistling in silver light.


EIGHT O'CLOCK

Supper comes at five o'clock,
At six, the evening star,
My lover comes at eight o'clock --
But eight o'clock is far.

How could I bear my pain all day
Unless I watched to see
The clock-hands laboring to bring
Eight o'clock to me.


THE NEW MOON

Day, you have bruised and beaten me,
As rain beats down and the bright, proud sea,
Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
Left me nothing lovely or whole --
Yet I have wrested a gift from you,
Day that dies in dusky blue:

For suddenly over the factories
I saw a moon in the cloudy seas --
A wisp of beauty all alone
In a world as hard and gray as stone --
Oh who could be bitter and want to die
When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?


THE COIN

Into my heart's treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor a thief purloin, --
Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
of a lovely thing.


Friday, April 4, 2014

Some poetry by Emily Dickinson


288
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you — Nobody — Too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! They’d banish us — you know!

How dreary — to be — Somebody!
How public — like a Frog —
To tell one’s name — the livelong June —
To an admiring Bog!
(c. 1861) 


1212
A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.
(c. 1872)


1568
To see her is a Picture --
To hear her is a Tune --
To know her an Intemperance
As innocent as June --
To know her not -- Affliction --
To own her for a Friend
A warmth as near as if the Sun
Were shining in your Hand.
(c. 1883)


1472
To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a book it lie --
True Poems flee --
(c. 1879)



Have a great weekend!







Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Happy National Poetry Month!

It's April, and you know that that means!!



So... is it okay to read verse novels as a way of celebrating National Poetry Month? After all, if we want to get really technical, they aren't *truly* poetry, are they? I would say no, they're not.

But they are definitely poetic (or at least, they should be). And so, I say, verse novels are a fantastic way to celebrate National Poetry Month. And here begins my once-a-year appeal to everyone to give verse novels a try if you've never tried one before.

Some people are scared of verse novels. They worry they'll be hard to understand; that they'll be too poetic. Let me assure you, there is nothing to be afraid of. Now, I can't guarantee you'll like verse novels. Some people don't. They are indeed different. But hard to understand? Not generally.

To prove my point, here is part of a note I received (and I get many like this one each year):

"Today my daughter, who is 14 years old, read your entire novel, I Heart You, You Haunt Me from cover to cover. She could not put it down and even read it through dinner. While this may not seem like a big deal, this was in fact, somewhat of a miracle to me. You see, she does not enjoy reading. She's been dealing with dyslexia from the 2nd grade on. Reading comes with difficulty and takes up a tremendous amount of energy for her. We've tried several styles, different genres, but nothing really lit her fire. Today was the first time she actually told me she was really enjoying reading. We've now ordered more of your books. From our little family on the east coast, I wanted you to know of the miracle that occurred in my living room today. God bless you and thank you."

My wish for National Poetry Month is that more teachers and librarians will realize what a gift verse novels can be for some readers. Please, make a point to read some and know the ones that are appropriate for the age group you're involved with, and don't be afraid to share them with students.

If you need a place to start for title suggestions, here is a list of verse novels, voted on by readers.

To give you a taste of what you might find inside a verse novel, I'll share a couple of excerpts from my own books.


from FAR FROM YOU:

Outside,
the air was cool
and crisp,
the way you want your sheets
when it's blistering
hot.

We walked to the park
and ran through the leaves,
picking them up
and throwing them at each other,
as if they were snowballs.

Instead of loud splats,
we got quiet flutters
of crimson and amber.


from THE DAY BEFORE

Back outside,
we stand
at the edge
of a cliff
and look out
at the endless supply
of blue.

                       It takes my breath away.

Him
and me
and the sky
and the sea.

It's like a dream.
The kind of dream
you wish for again and again,
night after night,
because it was so good
the first time.


There are plenty of ways to use verse novels in classrooms, too. Verse novels are full of imagery, similes, metaphors, alliteration, and more, so there is much to be discussed in the way of poetic devices. Because they're novels too, you can also talk about plot and theme and have some great discussions around the story as well.

As the author of four verse novels, here is what I've learned over the years, through my interactions with probably thousands of students via e-mail, regular mail, author visits, and Skype visits.

* students DO notice and appreciate the poetic devices found in verse novels.
* students love it when a book makes them FEEL something, and verse novels are great at that.
* reluctant readers appreciate the white space on each page, and that there are no hefty chapters to wade through.
* many kids have told me they never read an entire novel by themselves until they read one of my books, and that feeling of success is such a powerful one!
* for many readers, a verse novel can be just the gateway they need to become lifetime readers.

A special thanks to all of my readers, and especially to the teachers and librarians who have shared my verse novels with middle school and high school students over the years!


Monday, February 11, 2013

Poetry Contest - Eight Cousins Bookstore

Eight Cousins Bookstore in Falmouth, MA is doing an awesome thing to promote my latest YA novel, Falling For You.

Because Rae, the main character in Falling For You, writes poetry as an outlet for the stuff she's dealing with, they thought it would be cool to have a poetry contest with me picking the winner!



The contest is open to all interested parties and you can find all the information you need, including the on-line entry form, HERE.

But hurry, the contest ends February 14th - that's THIS coming Thursday!

If you write poetry and have notebooks with poems you've written laying around the house, why not submit something? Or, write a piece specific for the contest, if you'd rather do that. It's totally up to you!

I can't wait to read some poetry entries once the contest is closed. Will it be YOURS that I pick as the winner? Stay tuned....

Sunday, December 16, 2012

A simple reminder

I became familiar with Sara Teasdale's work when I was writing Falling For You, and I am now a big fan of hers.

I love this poem. I post it today as a reminder that life isn't always ugly and sad, though right now, it may feel that way. And our children, "with faces looking up," need us right now. They need us to be there for them, to love them, to play with them -- to be a light in a dark time. Let us show them the loveliness.


Barter
by Sara Teasdale

“Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstacy
Give all you have been, or could be.”