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

POEM #28- ABC'S OF HONEYBEES

Photos by Gideon Pisanty (Gidip), selected by Mary Lee Hahn from Wikimedia Commons

I'm participating in a poetry challenge, Common Inspiration- Uncommon Creations, over at Year of Reading. Today's prompt was a series of five pictures of a bee gathering nectar. As always, Mary Lee and friends have produced some really terrific poems, so be sure to go and check them out.

As for me, I'm pretty much feeling like I've worn out my poetry brain. I did a little research about honey bees then wrote an abecedarian.

"ABC's of Honeybees"

Apian adventurers

busily buzzing

ceaselessly collecting

diving and delving

ever exploring

fragrant flowers
grubbing in gardens

hoping honey's

ingredients are inside.

joyfully journeying

keenly kavorting

looking leads to

miraculous meadow of

neverending nectar

obviously the only option is to

pull from petals make

ready for recycling

suck into second stomach

through tubular tongue

unload and use

working wings to dehydrate

extract any extras

zweeeeeet!

POEM #27- PRECARIOUS

Breakfast Break of the Scaffolders, via Mary Lee Hahn, Year of Reading
Bundesarchiv, Bild 102-09409 / CC-BY-SA

I am participating in Mary Lee Hahn's Common Inspiration - Uncommon Creations Poetry Torture Challenge  this month. Today's picture is two German construction workers, taking a break. I spent the day in Kremmling at a track meet, then came home and tried to write a poem. When my poem brain simply wouldn't work, I went back to the arun, a form I tried earlier this month. 

Sunday morning update: I went back and messed around with this a little more. Still think it's pretty weak, but think the changes make it a little better. 

"Precarious"

Look
the view
from up here
Incredible!
I can see my house 
Touching puffy grey clouds
Fingers brush steel
head brushes gray clouds
head brushing clouds
fingertips cold steel

please
be still
don't lean much
because my perch
is precarious

your
courage
is making
me a little
uncomfortable.

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2013

POETRY FRIDAY- POEM #26, SOAP BUBBLE

Reflection in a Soap Bubble, Brockeninaglory, from Wikimedia Commons, via Mary Lee Hahn, Year of Reading

So for almost a month now (actually 26 days, but who's counting) I've been participating in Common Inspiration, Uncommon Creations,  a poetry challenge sponsored by Mary Lee Hahn, over at Year of Reading. Every day, Mary Lee posts an image from Wikimedia Commons, along with an original poem. She invites other people to post poems too. There have been some remarkable offerings. Today's image is a soap bubble.

"Soap Bubble"

A gentle puff

rainbow carriage

appears

dancing

shimmering

glimmering

inviting me

to journey

to a magical

far away

fairy world. 

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2013 

POETRY FRIDAY today is hosted by Laura Purdie Salas, at Writing the World for Kids. Laura also has a terrific Poetry Challenge at her website. Every day, she reads a poem, some of her own, and some by other poets, and then invites people to write poems, either using the same technique or about the same subject. I'm looking forward to sharing Laura's videos next month when several of our grade levels engage in units of study around that genre.