Poem #30- "In My Book"

Phew! April Poetry Month is in the books!

"In My Book"

You can …
open a book
balance the books
have your nose in a book
hit the books.

Or perhaps you can…
read the fine print
read between the lines
read into something
read someone's mind
read someone like a book
or occasionally, read someone the Riot Act
(or throw the book at them if necessary).

You can be......
       a closed book
       an open book
       a bookworm
       or book smart

And you can use
every trick in the book
or perhaps the oldest trick in the book
and if it's really good, make it one for the record books.

And now it's time to close the books
on April Poetry Month!

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2018

I found the book and reading expressions here.

POEM #29- Radicle

On Friday night, I was looking back through the poems I have written this month. I was surprised, ok, maybe shocked is a better word, to discover that I had never written a poem to my mom's mom, my Grandma Grace. Grandma Grace was a librarian in the Chicago Public Library system for many, many years. And if I had to pick one person who rooted and grew me as a reader, it would definitely be her. I am not sure why I have not written about her in my poetry journey this month. As I was writing, I wondered if the first root had a special name, so I googled it, and found that it's called the "radicle." I guess that kind of fits, too, with Amy Ludwig Vanderwater's strategy, "Be Inspired by Science."

"Radicle"

Radicle: the tree's first root. 

Roots are responsible 

for anchoring the plant body 

to the ground, 

and supporting it. 

You, Grandma Grace, 

were definitely 

my reading radicle. 

you always had a stack of books waiting

on the end table in your living room 

and every summer, when we arrived in Chicago,

i headed for the armchair in the front room 

a reading throne 

where i would take up residence

to devour book after book after book

my reading radicle

you gave me the Little House series

all eight of them

one at a time

i signed the first one

"to Carol Wilcox 

from Grandma Grace, 

December 24, 1967,

Colorado Springs, Colorado

you signed the next seven

i still have those books

my reading radicle

and you introduced me 

to the Newbery Medal

I'm not sure it was intentional

but i still think of 

Claudia and Jamie,

and their grandmother,

Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

every year, when the winners are announced

and every time I walk into a museum,

not to mention the million mini-lessons 

I have taught around thinking 

about how an author constructs a text

based on my own comprehension difficulties, 

when I, as a fourth grader,

failed to read Mrs. BEF's prologue.

my reading radicle

The radicle, a tree's first root. 

responsible for anchoring the plant body 

to the ground, 

and supporting it. 

You, Grandma Grace, 

were definitely 

my reading radicle. 

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2018

POEM #28- Conduit

Reading is a conduit to wholeness.    Jason Reynolds

I discovered Jason Reynolds about two years ago and have been a huge fan ever since. I have read almost all of his books and had the opportunity to see him, along with Brendan Kiely in an interview at the Denver Public Library last winter. I wish Reynolds' books had been around when my sons were in middle school and high school. 

Earlier this week, I came across an interview John Schu at Watch Connect Read did after winning the Newbery Honor Medal. I loved this quote, so today it is the basis for my golden shovel poem. 

"Conduit"

ahhh, this thing called reading

some think it is

 just about black words crawling across white page, but really it is a

high speed conduit

creating endless opportunities for travel to 

place where brain heart soul merge and there is wholeness

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2018

POEM #27-When Did Poetry Become Broccoli?

Yesterday, I came across this article by Chris Harris, "When Exactly do Children Start Thinking They hate Poetry?"Chris is an executive producer for How I Met Your Mother and The Great Indoors and recently released his first poetry book, I'M JUST NO GOOD AT RHYMING. I found my poem in his article. I was struck by Chris' question, "When did poetry become literary broccoli?" and wondered if there might be a found poem hiding in the article. I started messing around with it; it didn't quite work, but close enough, and so I added some of my own words, and revised the order a little. Because I didn't want to end up in copyright jail, Chris' words are in italics. 


"When did poetry become literary broccoli?"

So tell me, exactly when 
did poetry become literary broccoli?

word-hungry toddler 
gobbles songs, finger plays, 
Good Night Moon and
Brown Bear, Brown Bear
bangs spoon on metal highchair trays
shouts incessantly, 
"more, more, more, more, more!"

So tell me, exactly when 
did poetry become literary broccoli?

was it that nine-year-old
experiencing poetry 
solely through prefab formal structures-
        haiku, 
        acrostics, 
        cinquains, 
        and diamante 
who exclaimed,       "POETRY:
       It's like regular writing
       but with even more rules!"

No wonder
some kids go from 
enjoying poetry,
     to thinking they hate it
              to knowing they can't stand it.

what about this? 
what about if we made poetry
expansive
rather than constrictivewhat about if we help kids
discover just how many directions
and word countries
there are to explore

Dr. Seuss and Lewis Carroll…
     bouncy joy 
     in nonsense words
     that somehow magically 
     make sense

Nikki Grimes…
     imagery,
     laser-specific moments
     make the universal
     feel personal 

John Grandits
     blurring the line
     between picture and poem
     until poemisthepictureisthepoem…

Kwame Alexander…
     onomatopaiea
     makes reader
     lean forward
     until they find themselves
     surrounded by a heartbreaking moment

What about if we help kids think of poetry
as the polar opposite of that?
As writing that's free
from the standard rules?

What about if we allowed them to sit at the kids' table?
unshackled
from the usual concerns
of standard grammar
proper sentence structure,
conventional margins

let them look at how versatile
and powerful
english words can suddenly be. 

let's give our kids the chance
to stick macaroni noodle words on the tines of their heart
press gravy sentence lakes in mashed potato paragraph puddles
bake miniature cakes in essaybake ovens

might then poetry 
become 
children's literary heart food?

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2018

Irene Latham is hosting Poetry Friday today. Be sure to stick around and read a few of her poems, ok, actually all of them, from her series ART SPEAK, based on art work from the Harlem Renaissance. In today's post, she talks about how her composing process. I can't believe she creates such beautiful words in an hour! 

POEM #26- Proficient

"Proficient"

four kids
all proficient readers
according to the state test

case study #1

he greets me with a polite, "hello, miss"

then hunkers down 

sideways in his seat

always has a book

always has a next book in mind

regularly reads 30-45 minutes without looking up

doesn't mind chatting with me but

shy about presenting books to peers

completed book log is turned in every week

case study #2
he saunters into class
five minutes late
chooses two or three picture books
bumps noisily against several desks
settles with a few noisy thumps and jostles
chomps gum as he opens book
fingers brush against phone
eyes rove constantly
flips a page
when he sees me watching

case study #3

she flings the locker wide
gestures at the top shelf
five thick library books
stacked spine out
i am reading, she says.
why do i have to fill out a reading log to prove it?


case study #4
identified as gifted
brilliant writer and thinker
high proficient, almost advanced on state tests
reads only if Diary of a Wimpy Kid is available
otherwise, stares blankly into space
or doodles on scratch paper

four kids
all proficient readers

not in my book

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2018

POEM #25- Censored.

So I have been working, almost since the beginning of the month, on a series of shardomas. Tonight I worked for over an hour, and got nowhere. I finally reverted to one of my old favorites, the story poem. Actually not even sure this counts as a poem, but it's the best I can do tonight.

"Censored"

My mother and Marge Wisby,
who lives up the street
are reading
ROSEMARY'S BABY.
The cover picture,
an eerily glowing bassinet
with a bold red title
on black cover,
intrigues me.
(And, if truth be told,
scares me a little).

Linda Wisby and I
emerge from the basement playroom
to find our mothers talking about the book.
The conversation stops
as soon as we enter the room.
I wonder what what the book is about.
My mother will not tell me.
I want to read the book.
My mother will not let me.
"When you are older, " she says.
She has never censored my reading.
I wonder what the book is about.
I cannot wait until I am older.

I am reading Tinkerbelle,
the story of a man who sails
a small boat across the Atlantic.
I wait until my mother is out of the room,
take the dust jacket off of Tinkerbelle,
and switch the two books.
ROSEMARY'S BABY is scary.
Much scarier than anything I have read.
Too scary for me.
My mother was right.
After one hundred pages
I switch the covers back
and return to Tinkerbelle.

I am censored. By me.
(C) Carol Wilcox

POEM #24- If you don't learn to read…

"If you don't learn to read…"

So I could just say to you,
"Listen, if you don't learn to read,
you will have to blindly sign forms
that people stick in your face,
you know, things like rental agreements
and car leases and insurance papers
then later, you will be told
about ginormous penalties
that you have incurred,
and when you protest,
someone will wave the paper in your face
and say, "You agreed to it.
It's right here."

Or maybe I could say,
"Listen, if you don't learn to read
you will not be able to figure out your tax returns
(and ok, yes, it maybe true that you may not be able to figure them out anyway)
but if you don't learn to read
you definitely will not be able to figure out your tax returns
and you will end up having to pay someone else
to do what you could probably do for yourself.

Or perhaps I could say,
"Listen, if you don't learn to read
you will not understand
when you get notices saying
you make too much money
so your medicaid has been cancelled
and no, you can't just throw those notices out
or dump them into a drawer
because at some point
those choices will come back
to bite you in the butt."

If I say those things,
will that make you want to learn to read?

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2018