Poetry Friday

From Wikimedia Commons

It's funny, I think, how a poem can wrap itself around your heart in different ways, at different times in your life. Don Graves introduced me to Marge Piercy's poem, "To Be of Use" almost twenty years ago. I still remember sitting in his study in Durham, New Hampshire, hearing Don read the poem aloud.

I fell in love with "To Be of Use" and have read it hundreds of times. I've used it repeatedly in workshops to talk about the importance of providing kids with work that is authentic and rich and deep. In fact, it's been kind of a theme song running through my work with teachers and kids.

But I am in a different season of life right now. The past two years have been long and spirit draining. Last week, a friend sent me a note reminding me about Piercy's poem. She alluded to these lines, in the middle of the poem. I went back and reread "To Be Of Use." And it was like I was reading an entirely different poem than the one I had read before. I'm struck, probably for the millionth time, by how much of a poem's meaning lies in the reader, not in the black squiggles on the page.

And I'm so grateful for poetry's healing touch.

And for this friend's sweet presence in my life.


"To Be Of Use"

…I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

Marge Piercy

Read the rest of the poem here.

Ed DeCaria is hosting Poetry Friday at Think, Kid, Think.

PENNY AND HER MARBLE- KEVIN HENKES

I've loved Kevin Henkes' books for a very  long time. If I had to choose a favorite, I'd choose LILY AND HER PURPLE PLASTIC PURSE. In the past year or so, Henkes' has released three PENNY books, a new series of easy readers, and those are fast becoming favorites. I reviewed PENNY AND HER DOLL in October, and the newest book in the series, PENNY AND HER MARBLE, just came out last week.

Penny is out with her doll, Rose, when she finds a big, shiny blue marble on Mrs. Goodwin's front lawn. She picks it up, admires it, and then puts in her pocket and takes it home. Once she gets home, however, the marble does not seem quite so wonderful. In fact, Penny feels so badly about taking the shiny blue marble that it almost makes her sick. She worries about the marble all that day, then dreams about it all that night. Penny has a big decision to make…

Perfect for starting conversations about stealing. Perfect for any beginning reader. Perfect for any primary grade classroom.

A SPECIAL GIFT FOR GRAMMY- Jean Craighead George

One of my all time very most favorite people was my mom's mom, my Grandma Grace. Grandma Grace was a librarian in the Chicago Public Library System. She was a single mom and raised my mother alone, from the time my mom was four years old. She lived a thousand miles away, so I didn't see her more than two or three times a year, but she was a really, really special person in my life. I think of her often, including this weekend, when we are celebrating the moms and important women in our lives.

Recently, I came across a book that reminded me of my grandmother. A SPECIAL GIFT FOR GRAMMY is one of the last books Jean Craighead George wrote before she passed away in May, 2012, at the age of 92. In this book, the main character, Hunter, collects a pile of stones and leaves them on his grandmother's porch.

"What do I do with a pile of stones?" asks Grammy.

"What everyone does with a pile of stones," he answered.

"Of course," says Grammy.

Grammy leaves the stones on her porch, and over the course of the next few weeks, the mail carrier, a repairman, a Brownie Scout, some family members and neighbors, gradually find uses for the stones. Finally, there are only a few left, and Hunter and his grandmother have to figure out what to do with them.

A sweet picture book celebrating the love of a grandmother and a little boy.

POETRY FRIDAY

Forest by Oliver Herold, Wikimedia Commons

 Life feels like a lot right now.  I googled poems about peace and found this one. I'm posting a few random lines that I loved.

"The Peace of Wild Things"

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound…

I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief…

For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

Read the rest of the poem here.

Anastasia has the Poetry Friday roundup here.

CLEMENTINE AND THE SPRING TRIP- SARA PENNYPACKER

It hardly seems possible, but it's been almost two months since I've blogged about books. First I did the Slice of Life Challenge for 31 days straight in March, then I did a poetry challenge with Mary Lee over at Year of Reading in April. But now I'm back to talking books most days, with a little slicing and MAYBE some poetry thrown in.

My latest read, completed this afternoon when I should have been doing housework, is CLEMENTINE AND THE SPRING TRIP. I love Clementine. I love her spunky, really-did-mean- well attitude (the scene where she tries to help Margaret by cutting her hair in the bathroom at school is one of my all time favorite sure to sell kids on reading scenes). I love that she names her cat Mascara, because she thinks that some of the world's most beautiful words in the world are found in the bathroom. And I love her relationship with Mrs. Rice, the school principal.

In CLEMENTINE AND THE SPRING TRIP, the entire third and fourth grade are headed out on a field trip to the Plimoth Plantation. Clementine is planning to partner with Margaret, because she knows her good friend does not like to touch anything dirty, and she thinks Margaret will need lots of help dealing with place where the houses have dirt floors and the class has to plant in the dirt, but then a new girl, Olive, moves to town. Clementine isn't sure how she feels about having another student with a foodish name, and is even less sure when she discovers that Olive has invented her own language, which Clementine can't quite grasp, but her teacher, Mr. D'Matz, thinks that Clementine and Olive will be perfect field trip partners.

This book has so many really funny parts. The fourth grade has strict rules about lunch items that make noise, "no crunching, no smacking, no snicking…" (snicking is the noise that your tongue makes when it sticks to the roof of your mouth when you eat peanut butter or other sticky items), and Margaret gives third grade Clementine strict instructions about what she can bring in her lunch box. The class ends up on Bus Seven, home of the dreaded "Cloud," a smell so bad that Clementine has to go lay under a tree and smell pine needles when she even thinks about the bus. Clementine falls in love with a chicken and becomes a vegetarian mid-trip. This is a book sure to keep third and fourth graders turning pages.

Another fun read by Sara Pennypacker!

POEM #30- ZIPPER

Zipper, by DemonDeLuxe , from Wikimedia Commons, selected by Mary Lee Hahn

 On April 1st, I joined Mary Lee Hahn's Poetry Challenge, Common Inspiration, Uncommon Creations.  I wasn't really sure I could write thirty poems in a row, but now, here we are, and I did it.  Most of the other poets wrote wonderful ending poems with terrific metaphors today.  I tried to do that, but I just couldn't pull off. Here, then, is my final offering…

 "Zipper"

 I crouch down
take your down jacket
in my hands
fumble with the frayed
late winter zipper
until it catches
I draw the zipper
to just below your chin
tie your hood and
stuff your hands
into mismatched mittens
hoping this little bit of love
will be enough
to protect you from
a frigid unloving world.

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2013

POEM #29- LIFE IN A KAT EAT KAT WORLD

Photo by Sara and Joachim, Selected by Mary Lee Hahn on Wikipedia

I'm participating in Mary Lee Hahn's Common Inspiration, Uncommon Creations Poetry Challenge this month. This morning's prompt was a picture of three meerkats, standing sentry, I think, at their burrow. I did a quick, five minute poem, and thought I was done, which was good, since I had a bunch of schoolwork I needed to do this morning.

"it's a kat eat kat world"

The important thing
is that we have
each other's backs.

you look to the left
I say to Fred,

and you look to the right
I say to Herb

And me, George,
I'll look straight ahead.

The important thing
is that we have
each other's backs.

(c) Carol Wilcox

But then my curiosity got the better of me. I started wondering about those meerkats. They are pretty funny looking. What about those circular eyes. And why were they together? Do they really live in groups. And what were they really doing? I looked them up meerkats on wikipedia. And started pulling out interesting facts. Then this poem came about.

"Meerkat"

Me?
Meerkat.
You think I'm kinda funny looking?

Those stripes
on my back?
unique.
none of the other
fifty fellows
in my large mob
(or some people call it a gang or clan)
look exactly like me.

That hairless patch on my belly?
The place
where my black skin shows through?
That absorbs heat  while I'm standing
on my rear legs,
early in the morning
after cold Kalahari desert nights.

And those big  eyes
on the front of my face?
For watching.
African tribesmen
trust me to
protect their villages
from werewolves
that attack stray cattle

And I gotta take my turn at sentry duty
while others are foraging.
We forage for food
every day
Meerkats don't carry around
any stored body fat. 

That long curved claw?
That little hummer
can dig my weight
in sand in only seconds. 
Mostly, I'm foraging for insects
but if I'm really hungry
I might dig up a scorpion.
Not to brag,
but did I mention
that unlike you humans
I'm immune to
the venom of scorpions.

And those black  crescent-shaped ears?
they close.
keep out soil
when I'm digging
pretty handy
a fella's gotta be able to hear
to protect himself
from brothers
who might want to kill him
to up their status
in our meerkat mob.

My long tapering tail?
Yeah, it's different
from my bushy-tailed
mongoose relatives.
That tail helps me balance when I stand upright,
And I use it
for signaling.
The Dutch didn't call me
stick tail
for nothing.

Me?
Sun angel.
You still think I'm kinda funny looking?

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2013