POEMS ABOUT FOOD

Thanksgiving Eve seems a perfect day to feature poems about food.

I was talking with a group of fourth graders this week about how poetry helps us see the world in whole new ways, and about how we read a poem, and then can never look at that object again, without thinking of that poem. I wish I had read FRESH DELICIOUS: POEMS FROM THE FARMERS' MARKET by Irene Latham, illustrated by Mique Moruchi, before I had taught this lesson. Fresh delicious includes twenty-one poems, including some that children will know- tomato, cucumbers, lettuce, peaches, blueberries, strawberries, watermelon, potatoes, eggs and some they might not-purple hull peas,  basil, okra, and don't miss pole beans on the back cover from the Farmers' Market. A jillion surprising and really wonderful comparisons…

PEACH
Where your
baby-fuzz
cheek
meets my
hopeful nose,
the world
explodes
with sweetness.
- Irene Latham


CUCUMBERS
a fleet
of green
submarines

in a wicker
sea
- Irene Latham


BASIL
a bouquet
of minty
green
butterfly
wings.
-Irene Latham

Mique Moriuchi's collage illustrations, featuring a variety of animals visiting the farmers' market and interacting with the produce  are perfect- bright, playful, and colorful. A bonus section includes recipes- salsa, fruit kebabs, lettuce wraps, and cheesy confetti frittata, mini veggie pizzas, and easy strawberry ice cream.

Another food/poetry book I read this week is OUR FOOD: A HEALTHY SERVING OF SCIENCE AND POEMS, is by a favorite author, Grace Lin, and her friend, Ranida T. McKneally. OUR FOOD features haiku from five food groups- protein, fruits, vegetables, grains, and dairy.

Protein foods

I've always wondered
Do brown chickens lay brown eggs?
My thoughts are scrambled.

Almonds are "good fats"?
Do they fight crime in disguise?
Seems nutty to me 

Each haiku is accompanied by a rich informative piece. Some are basic what you might expect to find in a book about food-
     - What is a fruit?
     - Why do I have to eat my vegetables?
     - What are protein foods?

Some take the reader a little deeper:
     - Why are so many vegetables green?
     - Why are lean meats healthier than fatty meats?
     - What is the difference between brown bread and white bread?

Still others are downright fun:
     - What makes popcorn pop?
     - Why do beans make you gassy?
     - Why are some cheeses so stinky?

End pages include a few additional questions, a diagram of the four food groups, and a glossary. A terrific poetry/science crossover!

SLICE OF LIFE

My boys, 21 and 22, are almost grown.

And I'm finding it really, really hard to parent them right now.

The world we are living in is a really scary place.
 I fear for my chocolate skinned son every time they go out the front door.
I do not know what to say to my boys.
I do not know what they should
say or do
if they are going about their ordinary
every day business
picking up loaf of bread
or a gallon of milk
at the grocery store,
putting gas in their cars
or walking across the parking lot
on their way to class
and someone says something.
Ignore.
Keep your head down.
Walk away.
Don't make eye contact.
Get to a safe place
and call 911.
I raised them to be men
of character and integrity
I do not want them to live in fear.
And yet the world is a really scary place.

I worry about the choices they make.

All day today I have been thinking
about a lady named Gwenevere.
She's the mother
of the Chattanooga school bus driver
that crashed and killed
five children yesterday.
Early reports indicate
that he was driving too fast.
I could be Gwenevere.
My boys drive fast.
Run yellow lights.
Make poor decisions.
Every day,
I pray that their decisions
won't cause harm
to themselves
or others.
won't have
permanent ramifications.

And I have been thinking
about another mom.
Anonymous right now.
Her son was killed last night
in a stabbing
at an apartment complex in a college town
about an hour north of Denver.
A couple was fighting.
A neighbor stepped in to help.
And now he's dead.
I want my strapping strong sons
 to be up standers
to step in if someone needs help

But I don't want them dead.

My boys are almost grown
And yet I'm finding it really, really hard
to parent them right now.

The world is a really scary place.

CATCHING A STORYFISH- Janice N. Harrington

Keet (short for Keet-Keet Parakeet) is a girl who loves to talk.

"You'd talk the whiskers off a catfish,"
Grandpa says, "and the shine
off a new penny." 

"Grab the glue, grab the tape,"
Daddy says, "Keet, if you keep talking
"I'll need to stick on an extra pair of ears." 

They're right. I like to talk.
I like to spin stories
this-is-what-I did-stories
this-is-what-I-saw stories
stories to make my brother giggle-bouncy
and wiggly as a worm.
stories to make Daddy lean in
and hold me octopus-tight.
stories to make Mama's eyes
shine birthday candle-bright."

Keet's stories stop, though, when her parents decide to move from Alabama to Illinois to be closer to Keet's grandfather. Her new classmates make fun of the way she talks, then her much loved grandfather/fishing buddy, has a stroke, and Keet doesn't know if she will ever tell her stories again. A new friend, Allegra (who happens to be a Latina), and a lovely school librarian help Keet catch the story fish inside of her again.

My favorite line from the book, by Doug McVicker, a storyteller that comes to visit the class.

"Knowing someone's story is one wayto put an end to a lot of trouble in the world" (p. 152). 

A terrific novel in verse about starting over in a new place, about remembering who you are, about making friends, and about the power of story. I wish I would have had this book at the beginning of the year. It will definitely be one of my first four or fourth grade read alouds next year! Don't miss the glossary of poetic forms at the back of the book.

THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY- Laura Shovan

THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY

One fifth grade class
a dilapidated old elementary school
slated to be torn down
and replaced by a grocery store
 at the end of the school year.
A teacher/activist that requires her students
to journal every day.
18 students including:
George Washington Furst, the class president who really wants his mom and dad to reconcile.
Gaby Vargas, an English Language Learner.
Sloane and Sydney Costley, identical twins, BFF's, but very different.
Mark Fernandez whose father has recently died.
Newt Mathews, frog loving scientist, who happens to have Aspergers.
Hannah Wiles, missing her deployed mom.
and Norah Hassan, originally from Jerusalem,
who really don't want their school to close.

This novel-in-verse follows the 18 fifth graders,
each with their own unique voice,
as they progress through a school year.

I love the way the book is designed, with each student having their own icon that appears in the corner of the page.

End notes include a description of seventeen different poem forms, with the titles of mentor poems included in the book, 15 different poems, again with mentor poems from the book, and a glossary.

Looking forward to sharing this with our fifth graders on Monday!

POETRY FRIDAY

Douglas Wright, Argentinian Poet

Phew! Having a really hard time keeping up with blogging and life right now! Every week, I promise myself, "I am going to blog at least three times this week." And then it doesn't happen! Darn! We have a day off today (comp day for two fourteen hour days of parent/teacher conferences, in case anyone is wondering), so I'm stealing a few minutes before I start in on housework and grocery shopping and bill paying and all of the other stuff that has also been neglected…

I am a literacy coach at a bilingual school. I really, really, really want people to incorporate poetry into the life of their classrooms. I have tons and tons of books of English poetry, and it's easy for me to offer people lots of choices, but I don't have nearly as many choices for people in Spanish.

About a year ago, I stumbled across an Argentinian poet and illustrator, Douglas Wright, who blogs at El Jardín de Douglas. He posts new cartoons, illustrated poems, and songs almost every day. He has some really short poems that he calls bocaditos (nibbles) that our little guys, who are just starting to speak Spanish (and also their literacy coach, who is only a little fluent), can access fairly easily. And our kids love him! 

Here are three we have used with our kids. I've included a rough translation…

El árbol quedó sin hojas

El árbol quedó sin hojas,

las ramas no tienen nada,

y contra un cielo de otoño:

sólo las ramas peladas.

Douglas Wright

The Tree was Leafless

The tree was leafless,
the branches have nothing,
and against an autumn sky:
only bare branches.

Douglas Wright

******************

Una poesía de parches

Una poesía de parches

de cuadritos de color,

como una manta tejida,

tejida con mucho amor.

Un parche azul es el cielo

y uno amarillo es el sol,

y un parche verde es la plaza

donde todo es resplandor.

Unos parches de poesías,

de poesías de color,

tejidos como una manta,

como una manta de amor.

Un parche negro es la noche

y un parche blanco es el día,

uno gris es la tristeza

y uno rojo es la alegría.

Una poesía de parches

de cuadritos de color,

tejida como una manta,

como una manta de amor.

Douglas Wright

Argentina

********
A Patch Poetry A patch poetry color plaid, as a woven blanket, woven with love. A patch is blue sky and a yellow one is the sun, and a green patch is the square where everything is shining. Patches of poetry, poetry of color, tissues like a blanket, like a blanket of love. A black patch is the night and a white patch is the day, gray one is sadness and one red is joy. A patch poetry color plaid, woven like a blanket, like a blanket of love. Douglas Wright Argentina

**********

La primavera está aquí 

La primavera está aquí,

la primavera se siente

—en los pájaros, las plantas,

en el aire, en el ambiente.

La primavera está aquí,

la primavera se siente,

y los pájaros, las plantas

—el aire, el cielo, las nubes—,

entonan todo a coro:

“la primavera, ¡presente!”. 

Douglas Wright

Spring is Here Spring is here, Spring feels -in birds, plants, in the air, in the environment. Spring is here, spring feel, and birds, plants -the air, the sky, the clouds, all sing the chorus: "Spring, present!" Douglas Wright

The very talented Laura Purdie Salas has the Poetry Roundup today.

SLICE OF LIFE

About two and a half years ago, I brought my mom's dog, Boo, home to live with me.
I wrote about it here.

And on Saturday I said goodbye to her.

I wasn't expecting to say goodbye so soon.

On Wednesday, Boo was fine. Greeted me when I came in the door from work. Monitored the squirrel activity in the backyard and then laid in a patch of fall sun on the deck. Ate dinner. Sat next to me while I did schoolwork.

On Thursday, she stopped eating. Was acting kind of lethargic.

On Friday, I called the vet and made an appointment. I wasn't too worried. She had just had her shots and and a senior wellness check up right before I went back to school in August. At the time, the vet said her blood work was perfect.

Her appointment was at 9:30 on Saturday. The vet checked her out. Couldn't find any visible problems. Wanted to redo the blood work. Sent us home. Called me an hour later. "You have a very sick dog." Her liver values, which had been normal a month ago, were ten times the normal limits. She wanted me to take her to the emergency clinic for more tests. And so we went.

The vet was young. So young. And very sweet. Wanted to do an abdominal ultrasound. Four hours later he had an answer for me. A gall stone had traveled from Boo's gall bladder and lodged in a valve in her liver.  Surgery would cost $8000 to $10,000. And would be very risky. She probably wouldn't survive.

And so they took me down the hall to the "Comfort Lounge." Brought Boo to me. I said goodbye. Held her and rubbed behind her ear, her favorite spot, while they put her down.

And about all I can say is that Boo lived life on her own terms. And that she was as brave as she could be.

Boo had a very hard life. She was a puppy mill mama for the first six years of her life. Lived in a wire cage.  Had litter after litter after litter after litter of puppies. Was abused, probably, given her fear of my boys, by a man. She was finally saved by the National Mill Dog Rescue, then adopted by my mom. When my mom's living situation changed two and a half years ago, I brought her home to live with me.

Every single thing she did was an act of bravery. It was brave for her to move beyond the confines of her bed in the corner of my living room. It was brave for her to initiate eye contact with me. It was brave for her to allow my granddaughter, Esveidy, to stroke her ears. It was brave for her to ride in the car with me. Or to allow the vet to touch her.

Boo lived the last three years of her life bravely.

And I hope happily.

Rest in peace, my brave girl. Rest in peace.

WISH by Barbara O'Connor

I have been trying to read WISH since about March. It wasn't out then, but people in Children's lit world, were reading ARC's and talking about it. I kept trying to get hold of a copy- wishing someone would send me one, entering drawings on the web, begging pretty much shamelessly.

I knew I would love the book. I love Barbara O'Connor's books. HOW TO STEAL A DOG is pretty much one of my all time favorites. In fact, I hardly ever read a book, at least a chapter book,  more than once to classes. But I've read that one at least five times. And it's sitting on the chalk rail at school waiting for me to read again on Monday. I love the big truths in that novel. Love how it brings classes, even the world's squirreliest kids, into a community that cares about books, and more importantly, that cares about each other.

So I couldn't wait to read WISH. But I didn't win a copy. And so I had to wait. And wait. And wait.

It finally came out a few weeks ago. And of course, even though I am not supposed to be spending money, and especially not on books, I had to run right over to Tattered Cover and buy it. And of course, I loved it.

I loved the main character, Charlemagne Reese, better known as Charlie. When the book opens, Charlie has just moved to Colby, a small town in the mountains of North Carolina, to live with her Aunt Bertha and Uncle Gus. Charlie's father, Scrappy, is in jail and her mother won't get out of bed in the morning.  On her first day in her new school, Charlie fills out a "Getting to Know You" survey. She describes her three favorite activities as soccer, ballet, and fighting.

I loved the characters that surround Charlie. Aunt Bertha and Uncle Gus haven't quite figured out the parenting thing. Charlie's room is filled with an old tv and canning jars stacked against the wall. Aunt Bertha talks a blue streak and has seven cats. She buys Cinderella pillowcases and a rainbow and pony lunch box and she puts slightly burnt cookies in Charlie's lunch.

And then there's Howard Odom, the boy who has red hair and ugly black glasses and walks with an up-down limp. He becomes Charlie's best friend and teaches her to say "pineapple" instead of slugging someone when she gets mad. He helps her to capture and adopt a stray dog named Wishbone. He forgives her when she is mean to him.

WISH is a story of brokenness. And friendship. And love. And healing. I think you should read it. You will probably love it. I know I did.