You know I love me some McSweeney's. Take a look at Catherine and Heathcliff Audition for Twilight. I dare you not to laugh.
New Moon Frenzy: Tomorrow Night!
1 hour ago
The blog of a teacher educator discussing poetry, children's literature and issues related to teaching children and their future teachers.
Jane Yolen left this poem in the comments.I wrote several poems, one about playing in the dirt and mud, another about climbing trees, and this one.Jacks
Amy Ludwig Vanderwater left this poem in the comments.
I was no Jill at Jacks,
tumbling gracelessly down a hill.
Instead I swiped the little iron-legged tokens
with a quick hand, snagged the ball,
was on to the next round with hardly a wasted motion.
Champion of my camp, of my elementary school,
I privileged jacks over real boys,
keeping my winning streak going
until my first kiss the summer I was thirteen.
The next time I played jacks
was with my own children
who could sit on the floor with an ease
I scarcely remembered.
The last time was at a conference,
with two women friends,
one of whom brought her own jacks and ball
in a velvet drawstring bag.
We sat on the hotel floor
watched over by conference attendees.
They cheered us equally.
But two of us lost.
We lost big.
Never play pool with anyone
who owns his own cue stick, Daddy had warned.
It’s true in jacks as well.
©2009 Jane Yolen, all rights reservedOuija Board
Easter of Owl in the Library shares two poems this week.
My hands hover over
hoping for hints.
Who will I love someday?
I close my eyes.
I hold my breath.
What will the Ouija say?
Letter-by-letter
my future is told.
Word-by-word
her secrets unfold.
For me to make true.
For me to blame.
Ouija board –
Truth?
Or game?
Amy Ludwig VanDerwater, 2009
Carol Weis left two poems in the comments.POGO STICK
Janet of Across the Page shares a poem entitled Boggle Dreams.
Up
down
hopping around
how many times
can I go-go?
Up
down
hopping around
zillions of times
on my pogo.
-----
ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO
One potato
two potato
three potato four
rang around our yard
on chilly
autumn days
in our northern
Jersey neighborhood.
Fists held tight
we’d huddle in a circle
ready-or-not to play
the next round of
hide and seek
all wondering
who would
be IT.
Tapping fist to
chin and other
eager fists
it turned out
only
the potato
knew
for sure.
Harriet of spynotes left this poem in the comments.Rope
Skit skat
Paddywhack
One foot, four;
Jump rope,
Turn twice,
Holler for more!
Double Dutch,
Never such,
Ever such rhyme;
One foot,
Two foot,
Four feet time.
Hold hands,
Back to back,
Shake it sweet;
Whip round,
Skip down,
Don’t miss a beat!
Turning,
Turning
The rope goes round --
Faster,
Faster, that
Whirring sound
Touch down
Turn around
Back against the wall
Oh, no!
Caught a toe
Trip then fall
Jump rope stall.
Get up
Dust off
That’s how you learn
Once more
Jump back
One more turn
Turn once
Turn twice
Count each leap
Skip day
Skip night
Skip in your sleep
Skit skat
Paddywhack
One foot, three
Inside a
Jump rope’s
The place for me.
That old rope wore my hands bareIt's not too late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll add it to the list.
but I couldn’t stay away
It traveled high over the corn field
and came back to the edge of the road
Swinging was as good as flying
As I got older, I swung upside down
rope twined around my legs—over, under, between
Swinging was my dare
my truth was freedom in the air

A Reader's Diary - Maybe I'm just getting old, but these days I need to write down the titles of the books I've read (though the really amazing ones stand out), as well as the ones I want to read. This terrific little pocket diary is just the thing to keep book lovers organized.
I've been holding on to this book for a while, but since I'm teaching a class tonight on how to teach civics in the elementary classroom, today is the perfect time to shine a spotlight on it.Suppose you stumble across a chunk of land that no one owns. You could take it over and declare it a brand new country. Your own personal country! The Kingdom of Jason! The Federal Republic of Katie! Even if it were only the size of a bathmat, it would be yours, all yours!What follows are three chapters that guide readers through the country building process. Wyatt uses the micronation of Bathmatia (a hypothetical country founded in a bathroom) to illustrate each point, as well as information about countries currently in existence. The book is chock-full of facts relating to topics in geography, economics, and history. However, they're so creatively woven into the text that kids won't feel like they've picked up a textbook when they crack this one open. You'll be more likely to hear kids sharing interesting tidbits with their friends. Here's an example from a sidebar entitled "One Dog, One Vote."
If you think that's highly unlikely, you're right. Unlikely, but not impossible.
Duncan M. MacDonald cast his vote in a 2006 election in the United States. There was only one problem: Duncan is a dog. He was registered as a voter over the phone (his owner took the call) and received an absentee ballot in the mail. (Absentee ballots are used by voters who can't vote in person at election time.) Duncan marked his choice with a paw print, and then his owner, Jane Balogh, mailed in the ballot. Ms. Balogh was trying to make the point that it's too easy to get registered to vote because she was concerned about voter fraud. For doing so, she was convicted of making a false statement to a public official.The first chapter, entitled "Stake Out Your Identity," details naming your country, finding a population, designing a flag and choosing a motto, and writing a national anthem. In addition to helpful hints for completing each task, readers will find some handy-dandy activities along the way, like the U-Name-It matching column for folks stumped for a name, or the Mad-Lib™ style fill-in-the-blanks for writing a national anthem.
Running a country is a bit like having a pet fish. You have to take care of the fish or bad things will happen (to the fish). Actually, looking after a population is a lot more work than that because your citizens won't be satisfied with just food and clean water. They will expect big things, such as a justice system, a government and an economy, and smaller things, such as roads, schools and hospitals. These are the necessities that will help them lead healthy and prosperous lives. And if your citizens are healthy and prosperous, your country will be, too.The last chapter, entitled "Meet the Neighbors," highlights the fact that we all live in "one big world, and sometimes we need to work together on issues like peace and global warming and disaster relief." What follows is an introduction to some of our neighbors (big and small, old and new, rich and poor, etc.), international organizations, and talk of keeping the peace.
While playing some games with my son this weekend I had a chance to reflect on some of the games I played as a child, as well as some of the ways I amused myself when there were no friends to play with me. I was fond of Pick-Up Sticks, Tiddlywinks, and Jacks. I coveted my brother's Battling Tops and my sister's Mystery Date. When I was outside I loved hopscotch, my pogo stick, jumping rope, and blowing bubbles.Today I'm sharing a poem from the November issue of Poetry magazine.
Sifting in the Afternoon
by Malachi Black
Some people might describe this room as spare:
a bedside table and an ashtray and an antique
chair; a mattress and a coffee mug;
an unwashed cotton blanket and a rug
my mother used to own. I used to have
a phone. I used to have another
Read the poem in its entirety.
Jane Yolen left this poem in the comments.I agree with many of the writers this week who said that this form was particularly difficult to work within. I found it darn hard to make the first and last lines work seamlessly. Here are two of my drafts.Today
Kate Coombs of Book Aunt shares a poem entitled Snail.
I am trying
a brand new form of poem.
It is known as rictameter.
Who is it makes up these poetry forms?
Some clown with a post box in Maine?
Or was it just someone
who had a dream
Today?
© 2009 Jane YolenSnail
Laura Purdie Salas shares a poem entitled Bear Attack.
Gypsy
hauls his round brown
caravan behind one
smooth trotless horse up and down small
country roads. When he's gone, so is the green
laundry from the garden's clothesline.
Festooned in lettuce, he
rides on--bold-eyed
gypsy.
--Kate Coombs (Book Aunt), 2009
Kelly Polark left this poem in the comments.Autumn
Carol Weis left this poem in the comments.
Is so cool. He
Showers us with vibrant
Colors. Our children race and jump
In the pile the size of a Volkswagen.
We sip cider while we watch the
Breeze scatter leaves on the
Yard yet again.
Tyrant.
---Kelly Polark, 2009Mind fog
Harriet of spynotes left this poem in the comments.
Creeps shamelessly
Blurs judgment inside brain
Key decisions lost in its midst
Bleary vacillations picking up speed
Yearning for sun to blaze away
Thick overhanging clouds
Obscuring view
Mind fog
© Carol Weis, all rights reservedWalking
Over the hill,
Past the long-necked horses,
Thumping the fence with a fat stick
Just for the wooden sound of it,
I wade into the grass
To hush my feet
WalkingAndy of Life Allegorical shares two rictameters at her web site. She also left this poem in the comments.Harvest
Easter of Owl in the Library shares a poem about gifted kids.
moon is slouching
lazily in the sky.
Her belly is too full to rise
just yet, so she lounges right above the
horizon, peers over the broad
shoulders of farm workers,
and inspects the
harvest.
Julie Larios of The Drift Record shares a poem entitled Late Night Thoughts.
Amy Ludwig VanDerwater left this poem in the comments.A cat
Andi of a wrung sponge shares a poem entitled Swine Flu with Asthma.
comes to a door
looking for food and drink.
He finds this. And he finds children
kissing him before they even name him.
Small hands remind him how to purr.
Soft laughter fills the porch.
This home needed
a cat.
Bec of Re: Becca plays along for the first time and shares a poem about Scotland, complete with pictures. Welcome!
Mary Lee of A Year of Reading shares a rictameter that serves as a clever review of two books.
Jone of Deo Writer shares a rictameter in honor of Friday the 13th.
Denise Doyen left this poem in the comments.Tricky,
Arbitrary:
Writing rictameter
Peters out my inner reas’ning,
‘Til my poetary clockworks slip gear,
Catch, and whirr, then keep on ticking,
Picking out syllables
Like live lobsters.
Tricky.
AcornsIt's not too late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll it to the results.
drop among fall
leaves, littering the ground
with jauntily capped messengers.
Securing fertile ground is a challenge
when pestered and sequestered by
bushy-tailed tree climbers,
gathering up
acorns!
-----Lucky
number seven,
four-leaf clovers, horseshoes
crickets, ladybugs, dragonflies
rainbows, falling stars, wishing wells, coins in
a fountain—not superstitions,
but dreams. Make one big wish.
Maybe you’ll get
Lucky.
America at War, selected by Lee Bennett Hopkins and illustrated by Stephen Alcorn, is a collection of 54 poems by more than 40 poets. Divided into sections, each war is preceded by an introductory page that contains the name of the war and the dates it was fought, a quote about the war, and a brief summary of the conflict. (Read my review.)
Mare's War, written by Tanita Davis - Alternating between present and past, the story of Marey Lee Boylen's service in the African American unit of the Women’s Army Corp (WAC) unfolds against the backdrop of a roadtrip with her bickering granddaughters. Mare's story is told as she experienced life in the 40's, and as such is filled details about day-to-day life during the war, the humiliations of segregation (even in the army), and the role of WACs in World War II.
Sunrise Over Fallujah, written by Walter Dean Myers - Eighteen year old Robin "Birdy" Perry, an African American born and raised in Harlem, is sent to Iraq at the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2003. The emotional story of Birdy's service in a Civilian Affairs unit is an unflinching look at the life of a soldier deployed during a time of war.