Mask Poems with My Poetry Sisters

Where did February go?! For March, Laura challenged us to write a mask poem from the point of view of any everyday object (toothbrush, pencil, car keys, etc.). You can learn more about this form and read some great examples at Wild Rose Reader.

I took my class to the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts on Tuesday to learn about how to use the museum and its resources to teach social studies. We took a trip through the Ancient World galleries and spent time engaging with 3 different works. I was quite taken with a camel sculpture created for the tomb of a Chinese merchant. As the class completed a notice and wonder activity, I started wondering what the camel might be thinking, and what it would say if it could hear our conversation.

This isn't my finest poem, but it is a first draft that made its way out of my head and onto paper, and that is always a very good thing.

What a 7th Century Camel Knows
Few make it to this room in the gallery
tucked into a corner on the second floor
the mummies and marble statues of
the gods draw them in and captivate

If they make it this far, I see only their backs
hear them as they ooh and aah
over "Bowl with Bats, Waves, and Rocks"
a tiny slip not even 200 years old
I've got a thousand years on that bit
of porcelain, but they barely notice me

"They had camels in China?"
the visitors all say
If I could snort I would, but my breath
would surely fog the glass
Just once I'd like to stretch my legs
move a muscle, turn my head

I wish they could see my natural form
but both my beautiful humps are
obscured by heavy packs of goods
the saddle piled high
Silk Road still calling my name

And so I wait
for the one who will SEE me
take more than 7 seconds to glance my way
the one who will stare and study and imagine
their way into my head, into my dreams
into my story, my history

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.

Bactrian Camel (Unknown Artist), 7th Century Chinese

© Virginia Museum of Fine Arts

You can read the pieces written by my Poetry Sisters at the links below. Andi and Kelly are off this month, but we look forward to welcoming them back soon. Today we're thrilled to welcome a new member to the fold. You just might recognize her last name. Welcome Rebecca!

• Tanita Davis
• Rebecca Holmes
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Liz Garton Scanlon

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Linda Baie at Teacher Dance. Happy poetry Friday friends!

Poetry Sisters Write in the Style of "Minor Miracle"

Phew! I thought January would never end, but I hoped for a bit more time before the first Friday of the month to debut these poems. Oh well, it's always something with these challenges. Tanita set our February charge to write“...in the style of.” The exact words were "Write a poem in the style of Marilyn Nelson’s “Minor Miracle,” about a small, miraculous thing you have seen or know.

I suppose my problem with this challenge was that Nelson's poem really hit me in the heart and I found myself wondering if the event described actually happened to her. That got me stuck thinking that this poem had to be about something that happened to me. And that assumption made it hard. And I got stuck. And I wrote a sappy/crappy poem. It happens. A LOT! I write crap and revise. It gets better (or not), and I write more. Yes, writing is truly a recursive process.

Funny, but my brain is recursive too. Once I get an idea in my head, sometimes I can't shake it and I come back to it over, and over, and over. I spent a lot of time trying to think about minor miracles I had seen or experienced. I finally hit upon a topic when I was watching a show on Netflix and saw a brief scene that jogged a bittersweet memory. I like this one much better than the first poem I wrote. I hope my sisters do too. And of course, I hope you enjoy it as well. This one's for my dad.

I Saw a Father Kiss the Bride
Which reminds me of my wedding day
and my mother's whispered admonition
to my father as we headed for the car
"You'd better kiss her when you
hand her off."

We stood in the back of the church
silently waiting for the music to begin
He offered his arm
but no compliments
no smiles, no words at all
I should not have been disappointed
I knew he was a man of few words
and fewer gestures

When we reached the altar
he pushed me toward my
future husband, shook his hand
and returned to my mother
Leaving the church we were
greeted by a post-shower sky
sporting a double rainbow
the perfect metaphor for my mood

Years passed
There were the obligatory hugs
(I gave them) when we visited
rare smiles at his grandson
the same dry wit and stubbornness

During my last visit
before he died
he harrumphed every time
I fussed over him
too weak to deny my ministrations
but not too weak to
plant a kiss on my cheek
and say goodbye

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. Kelly's off playing the most favorite auntie, but she'll be back with us soon. And finally, we're thrilled to welcome in Sara's daughter Rebecca to our little ring of poetry for these prompts.

• Tanita Davis
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Liz Garton Scanlon
• Andi Sibley

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference. Happy poetry Friday friends!

Poetry Friday Is Here!

"But I got saved by poetry. And I got saved by the beauty of the world."
- Mary Oliver

I'm heartbroken at the loss of Mary Oliver. I have so many well-worn volumes of her work. My Yin instructor often reads her poems and essays as we settle into positions for extended periods of time. So many people I know count her as a favorite, myself included. It saddens me to know her voice has fallen silent. In light of her passing, I'm sharing this poem.

In Blackwater Woods
by Mary Oliver

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it
go,
to let it go.

If you have a chance, take some time to listen to this On Being episode with Mary Oliver. You won't regret it.

I'm rounding things up old-school style, so please leave a comment and I'll add you to the post. Happy poetry Friday all.

**********
Poetry Books and Some History
Laura Purdie Salas introduces us to her new book coming out this spring, Snowman-Cold=Puddle. Woohoo! Congratulations to Laura!

Renee LaTulippe is sharing the second episode of The History of American Children's Poets with Lee Bennett Hopkins.

Original Poems
Matt Forrest Esenwine is sharing a poem about his step-grandfather, birds, and the Saint who connected them all.

Tabatha Yeatts is sharing an original poem entitled The Fortitude of Eyelashes.

Kathryn Apel is linking to her #MoPoetry2019 Insta-Poems, a lovely marriage of poetry and images.

Sally Murphy is sharing her first Poetry Friday poem for 2019, entitled A Lucky Home.

Michelle Kogan is sharing a golden shovel poem inspired by a line from a Martin Luther King, Jr. quote. Her poem is entitled True Peace.

Kiesha Shepard is honoring Mary Oliver in sharing her poem entitled Delight and inviting us to write with her.

Molly Hogan is sharing an "I am" poem and two storm-related haiku.

Mary Lee Hahn is sharing six ekphrastic haikus with German translation and the story behind them.

Heidi Mordhorst is bringing us smiles as she shares poems written by 2nd graders.

Irene Latham is sharing a continuation of her Butterfly Hours memoir project. Her poem is written to the prompt word "broom" and is named the same.

Liz Steinglass is sharing two senryu she wrote this week for her many friends and neighbors who work for the federal government.

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater is honoring Mary Oliver with her poem entitled Wild and Precious.

Over at Deo Writer, Joan Mccullough shares an original poem inspired by Mary Oliver and a meadowlark.

Carol Labuzzetta shares a color poem of yellow, inspired by the work of Mary O'Neill.

Margaret Simon is sharing a wealth of poems today, including two by Mary Oliver and an original poem entitled A Misty Mary Morning.

Catherine Flynn shares a golden shovel she wrote using the words from the Mary Oliver poem Instructions for A Life.

Poems of Others
Laura Shovan is sharing thoughts about tidying, "stuff" and a poem by Judith Viorst. And there's George Carlin in one of my favorite bits ever!

Linda Kulp Trout is sharing a tribute to Mary Oliver and her poem The Summer Day.

Linda B. is also sharing a remembrance of Mary Oliver and a prose excerpt from her book Upstream.

Over at Kurious Kitty's Kurio Kabinet, Diane Mayr is sharing Moon and Water by Mary Oliver.

Jama Rattigan introduces us to her Blue Bear and shares the poem Joy Soup by William Palmer.

Little Willow is also sharing the Mary Oliver poem A Thousand Mornings.

The folks at Gathering Books are sharing Love Poem by Maggie Smith.

Tanita Davis is sharing her thoughts on Mary Oliver and two poems of hers, Whistling Swans and The Gift.

Ruth is remembering Mary Oliver and sharing past posts that highlighted her work.

Karen Edmisten is sharing an excerpt from the Mary Oliver poem Breakage.

Joan McCullough is sharing an excerpt from Mary Oliver's book Felicity.

Susan Bruck is also sharing Mary Oliver today with her poem The Swan.

Poetry Projects and Exchanges
Linda Mitchell is sharing all the lovely postcard poems she received as part of Jone McCullough's postcard exchange. These cards sport original poems written by the senders.

Kortney Garrison invites us to sign up to join the Peace Poetry Postcard exchange in February.

Carol Varsalona invites us to join her in capturing the sights and sounds of the season and using them to create artistic poetic expressions  for her annual winter gallery challenge.

Ringing in the New Year with My Poetry Sisters

My sisters and I have committed to another year of poetry challenges. We were a bit late on deciding this month's, so I tossed out a few photos from an exhibition on campus and asked folks to write to an image. 

I chose Alphabet Portfolio by James Stroud and Matthew Carter, a series of 26 prints of the letters of the alphabet in different typographical formats.

My poem was inspired by May Swenson's Cardinal Ideograms, one of my favorite poems about numbers and what they resemble.

Linguistic Ideograms, a Dyslexic's Nightmare

a   face in profile sporting
a 50's pompadour

c   the dinner plate between
the bread and drink
(join forefingers to thumbs
and you'll see what I mean)

e    the tip of a pig's tail

f    a tree whose crown is
weighed down with snow

g    crooked 8 written by a hand
touched with Parkinson's

h    holy hell! how many more
of these?

eyes tortured by symbols
on the page
there's a broken ladder, open zipper,
winding garden hose, a camel's back
but ...
no words
no sentences
no sense

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. Andi and Kelly are out this month, but they will be back with us soon.

• Tanita Davis
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Liz Garton Scanlon

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Sylvia Vardell at Poetry for Children. Happy new year and happy poetry Friday friends!

Poetry Friday - Poetry Sisters Write List Poems

When I was a cadet at the USCGA, I received demerits for whistling. I was called out by the company commander who told me whistling was for a boatswain's mate, not an officer in training. As someone who hummed, whistled, and sang to the fill the silences, it was a hard loss to swallow. More than 30 years later, I still think of that rebuke when I catch myself whistling. The only difference is that now I smile and keep right on going.

What does all this have to do with poetry? For some reason, that memory popped into my head when I read the words Liz provided as fodder for our list poems. Here is the list.

• paper
• stars
• messages
• promises
• dirt
• flour
• rum
• hope

There is nothing remotely related to whistling here, but the words sparked a number of long forgotten memories and made me think of things that make me happy, so I decided to run with that idea for today's poem.

How I Turned That Frown Upside Down
As a child often left to my own devices
mother admonished me not to sulk
Lost to introspection and loneliness
it was easy to succumb to unhappiness

When the doldrums of dark days
left me frowning and sad
joy came from simple pleasures
     hearing the rhythmic thumping of the dog's tail
        poring over the funny pages of the daily paper
     turning cartwheels across the lawn
        whistling to the music streaming from the kitchen
     gazing at the night sky and countless stars
        hanging upside down from the neighbor's cherry tree
     swinging as high as my pumping legs would take me
        walking barefoot in the creek
     biking to the Town Pump to buy penny candy
        sneaking into the pasture to pet the dairy cows
     chasing and catching all manner of little critters

I think back to these moments
when I need a smile or pick-me-up

I still whistle and read the funny pages
Still love a dog and walking barefoot
Just yesterday I stood on my head
I imagine a cartwheel isn't far behind

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. 

• Tanita Davis
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Kelly Ramsdell
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Liz Garton Scanlon
• Andi Sibley

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Liz Steinglass. Happy poetry Friday friends!

Poetry Sisters Write - Anaphora

This month's challenge was set by Tanita, who proposed we write in any form, but using anaphora. Anaphora is the repetition of a word or group of words at the beginning of two or more successive clauses or sentences. The theme she set was gratitude and grace in loss.

I'm not sure I hit the mark exactly on the theme, but I've got the repetition down. Here's my offering this month.

First Tuesday After November 1

On this day I will rise and run
chasing dawn with every footfall
On this day I will marvel at the sunrise
grateful for its slow explosion
of color on the horizon
On this day I will appreciate the swiftness
of sparrows, lifting and reeling
towards the trees
On this day I will relish the wind
in my hair, the rain on my face
On this day I will embrace the stutter,
the loss for words, the inevitable
lapse in memory
On this day I will not lament
unfinished business, lost keys,
or broken promises
On this day I will appreciate
every breath, every heart beat
every bead of sweat
On this day I will stand
in line to cast my vote
grateful to be heard

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. Sara is traveling, but may have something to share with us later.

• Tanita Davis
• Kelly Fineman
• Liz Garton Scanlon
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Andi Sibley 

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Jama at Jama's Alphabet Soup. Happy poetry Friday friends!

Short Poems with My Poetry Sisters

This month's challenge, set by Laura, was to write a short poem (6 lines or fewer) describing an animal of our choosing using three words: spike, roof, and shadow.

Ok. Hardest. Challenge. Ever. Seriously, I could not make these words fit together. I'm sure my sisters worked some serious magic, but not me. I started and discarded poems on turtles, spiked dinosaurs, hedgehogs, electric eels, and the cutest little Himalayan mouse-hare. I think my problem came because I had a hard time finding meaning beyond the literal for roof. While I could use spike and shadow relatively easily, I couldn't make roof fit, and ALL THREE WORDS were required.

**Sigh**

So, while I'm still noodling over this challenge, I only have one measly little poem to share. My offering is about this handsome guy, the Himalayan Monal (or the danphe, as he's known in Nepal).

Photo © Tambako the Jaguar 

In the shadow of the Himalayas
near the roof of the world
the danphe sports a spike of
iridescent feathers on his head

surely he knows a colorful mohawk
attracts all sorts of ladies

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. 

• Tanita Davis
• Kelly Fineman
• Liz Garton Scanlon
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Andi Sibley - Andi's back! Woohoo!

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference. Happy poetry Friday friends!

Writing Centos With My Poetry Sisters

The challenge this month, set by Sara, was to write a cento. Here are the directions we received.

I pick a line of poetry from a poet outside our culture (whatever that means!).  Then to diversify, we each build our centos by choosing a different word from that line. That way, we will have varied poems, but each poem will be unified by its own unique word. 

Say I choose this from the poet Agha Shahid Ali:
     I see Argentina and Paraguay
     under a curfew of glass, their colors
     breaking, like oil. The night in Uruguay 

Then each of us could pick a word from it:  "Argentina" or "Paraguay" (hard!) or "curfew" or "glass" or "colors" or "breaking" or even "see" or "under"  and collage a poem from there. Every subsequent line has to be taken from a different poem and has to have your chosen word somewhere in it, long or short.  Feel free to use as many poems and cultures as you like.  

This has been my favorite challenge so far this year. I collected more than 12 pages of poetry lines containing the word under. I cut the lines apart and moved them around, a lot like magnetic poetry. Here's the first poem I wrote. You can find the source of the lines (and title) below the poem.

words under pressure bleed original sense¹

I. 
answer, if you hear the words under the words²
under the edge of february³
under the holsteins’ steaming noses⁴
days below days like a river running under the stars⁵

remember the sky that you were born under⁶
under eclipse and the day blotted out⁷
under a curfew of glass⁸
crying under the alder⁹

II.
without trousers and without underpants¹⁰
a stranger is peeing ecstatic under the moon¹¹
under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs¹²

under awnings, under stars¹³
have sex under the giant philodendron¹⁴
and in the ooze under¹⁵
no gods remember it, no understanding¹⁶

III. 
I want to be whole again, so I begin living truthfully under¹⁷
every night, under the millions of stars¹⁸
heart expanding under the ice¹⁹

1. words under pressure bleed original sense by George Quasha
2. The Words Under the Words by Naomi Shihab Nye
3. Under the Edge of February by Jayne Cortez
4. A Family History by Julia Spicher Kasdorf
5. The Forgotten Madmen of Ménilmontant by Frank Stanford
6. Remember by Joy Harjo
7. The Tower by W. B. Yeats
8. I See Chile in My Rearview Mirror by Agha Shahid Ali
9. What the Horses See at Night by Robin Robertson
10. Lives of the Dead: An Epic: Chapter One by Hanoch Levin, translated by Ata Hadari
11. Under a Full Moon at Midnight by Merrill Leffler
12. Chicago by Carl Sandburg
13. The Shooting of John Dillinger Outside the Biograph Theater, July 22, 1934 by David Wagoner
14. Dispatches from Devereux Slough by Mark Jarman
15. Canto XIV by Ezra Pound
16. Twilights, V by Conrad Aiken
17. Living Truthfully Under Imaginary Circumstances by Elizabeth A.I. Powell
18. Ruins Under the Stars by Galway Kinnell
19. Phases by Michael Redhill

I had so much fun writing the first poem that I decided to try a second. I like this one even better than the first. And yes, my dreams are this weird.

Where Dreams Take Me After Reading at Bedtime

our little apartment under the freeway overpass¹
under chenille bedspreads²
watching the garden winter under the moon³

under the hooves of a horse⁴
trampled underfoot⁵
tossed, knotted and torn under⁶

by the sea under the yellow and sagging moon⁷
a beaked ship under sail⁸
under the arching heavens⁹

circling a railway underpass¹⁰
where badgers undermine the tarred road¹¹
on the underside of the world¹²

under the gas lamps luring the farm boys¹³
to have sex under the giant philodendron¹⁴
in worn underpants and plastic sandals¹⁵

playing in the dirt under a porch¹⁶
crawling under the stairs¹⁷
under the brown fog of a winter noon¹⁸

under the triumphal arch¹⁹
the hard sidewalk under my shoes²⁰
a heap of ruins trodden underfoot²¹

in your “office” under the lean-to²²
under the racket of this day’s distractions²³
reading the Greeks under a blanket of blue²⁴

screaming under the stairways²⁵
under Grand Central’s tattered vault²⁶
under a curfew of glass²⁷

wherever the human heart beats with terrible throes under its ribs²⁸
under the bedroom floor²⁹

1. At the Grave of My Guardian Angel: St. Louis Cemetery, New Orleans by Larry Levis
2. Falling by James Dickey
3. Phases by Michael Redhill
4. The Forgotten Madmen of Ménilmontant by Frank Stanford
5. Your Shakespeare by Marvin Bell
6. Enter the Void by Juan Felipe Herrera
7. Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking by Walt Whitman
8. The Swan by John Gould Fletcher
9. When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d by Walt Whitman
10. How to Draw a Perfect Circle by Terrance Hayes
11. Over the Dead Flatness of the Fens by William Logan
12.  [I pinch myself hard on the inner arm] by Susan Hampton
13. Chicago by Carl Sandburg
14. Dispatches from Devereux Slough by Mark Jarman
15. Painted Eyes by Henri Cole
16. The Great Migration by Minnie Bruce Pratt
17. The Shark’s Parlor by James Dickey
18. The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot
19. The Cafe Underground by John Malcolm Brinnin
20. CXIV by Sonnet L’Abeé 
21. 1851: A Message to Denmark Hill by Richard Howard
22. Vertumnal by Stephen Yenser
23. Morning Voices by Ed Falco
24. Reading the Greeks Under a Blanket of Blue by William Coleman
25. Howl, Parts I & II by Allen Ginsberg
26. Broadway by Mark Doty
27. I See Chile in My Rearview Mirror by Agha Shahid Ali 
28. Song of Myself (1892 version) by Walt Whitman
29. The Shark’s Parlor by James Dickey

Poems ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. Life has called some sisters away this month, but they'll be back.

• Tanita Davis
• Liz Garton Scanlon
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Link. Happy poetry Friday friends!

#pb10for10 - Encouraging the Skill of Observation

I've spent the last two weeks cleaning my office and weeding my bookshelves. That means I've put my hands on every book and have had some time to think about my offering for the Picture Book 10for10 event.

In February for the Nonfiction 10for10 event, I shared a list of books to inspire future scientists. I'm still thinking about science as I prepare for the upcoming semester and am already selecting the books I will use in those early weeks. This time around I'm focusing on the books I share to teach and encourage the skill of observation.

Sam & Dave Dig a Hole,

written by Mac Barnett and illustrated by Jon Klassen

Seven Blind Mice,

written and illustrated by Ed Young

I Feel a Foot!

written by Maranke Rinck and illustrated by Martijn Van Der Linden

Who Done It?,

written and illustrated by Olivier Tallec

(Definitely check out the companions to this title: Who What Where? and Who Was That?)

Where's the Pair?: a spotting book,

written and illustrated by Britta Tekentrup

(Tekentrup has SO MANY amazing books in this same format. Don't miss The Odd One Out, One Is Not a Pair, Where Did They Go?, and Where's the Baby?)

Unlikely Pairs,

written by Bob Raczka

They All Say a Cat,

written and illustrated by Brendan Wenzel

On the Way to the Beach,

written and illustrated by Henry Cole

(Also check out I Took a Walk.)

Can You See What I See? Picture Puzzles to Search and Solve,

written and photographed by Walter Wick

(Wick photographed the I Spy books and eventually developed this series of his own, which contains numerous titles.)

I Spy: A Book of Picture Riddles,

with riddles by Jean Marzollo and photographs by Walter Wick

(As you know, there are also many books in this series.)

Looking Closely Inside the Garden,

written and photographed by Frank Serafini

(This is part of a series that also includes books for pond, shore, rainforest, forest, and desert.)

I know this is 11 books, and I suppose I cheated a bit by mentioning other related books, but it's so hard to stop at just 10! You can read the lists others have put together at Picture Book 10 for 10.

Writing Sestinas with the Poetry Sisters

This month the challenge we undertook was to write a sestina. It's been 3 years, so it seemed like time. Yeah, not so much!

A sestina is composed of 33 lines in five stanzas of six lines each, with a envoi of three lines for the final stanza. The form is created by the repetition of the six end-words of the first stanza. The final tercet is called the envoi and contains all of the end-words. Here is what the form looks like.

Stanza 1: ABCDEF

Stanza 2: FAEBDC

Stanza 3: FDABE

Stanza 4: ECBFAD

Stanza 5: DEACFB

Stanza 6: BDFECA

Envoi: BE / DC / FA

Each of us offered up two words to create a list of words to choose from. Those words were: face, down, mirror, ground, prism, prison, block, bend, wishes, beam, string, and blade.

I found the word pool hard to work with. The six words I chose were face, mirror, blade, down, prison, and wishes. After several false starts, I decided telling a story might help me make this form work. Here's what I came up with.

Madwoman in the Attic
She cannot see her own face
but remembers its reflection in the mirror
too dangerous, they say, shards too like a blade
he believes he can keep her down
locked inside this third floor prison
she won’t be honoring his wishes

She longs for freedom and she wishes
to confront him face-to-face
he’s the one deserving prison
yet he smiles at himself in the mirror
one day his world will tumble down
he’ll feel it as the sharpest blade

She’d like to wander in the grass, relish every blade
run to the well that’s made for wishes
toss a coin and follow it down
imagine the shock upon his face
her’s will be his mirror
guilt soon will be his prison

but the attic’s not her prison
it’s her mind that is the blade
she’s chopped up in the mirror
sharp edges, blurry lines, and wishes
all wrapped inside a fractured face
she’s keeping up appearances, but it will all come crashing down

Her nursemaid says, “Calm down.
Thornfield is not your prison.”
But the lie shows on her face
Grace has cut her like a blade
no one answers to her wishes
so untruth is what she’ll mirror

“Who’s the fairest, magic mirror?”
she asks while sitting down
she has nothing left but wishes
so she plots escape from prison
she stabbed one with a blade
burned another, marred his face

Amidst the flames she mirrors his pain while breaking from this prison.
She jumps and tumbles down, pain slicing deeper than a blade.
It’s insanity that wishes, one last look upon his face.

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

I started a second poem, but after the third stanza I didn't know where to go with it. Instead of a story, I thought perhaps disconnected stanzas mights be easier to write. The six words I chose were ground, beam, face, down, string, and bend. Here's the rough draft I have so far. I hope to return to this one, perhaps as a tritina or some other form.

In the News (2018)
Young boys trapped underground
no light, no single beam
such fears they had to face
through water they dove down
the path to freedom marked by a string
they didn't break but had to bend

Staunch politicians will not bend
standing firm on 2nd amendment ground
we cannot pluck their heart strings
Undecideds walk the beam
"Can't let constituents down!"
but it's survivors (children) they must face

You can see acceptance on their faces
to Mother Nature they must bend
seems the world is falling down
cracking roads and shaking ground
lava burns houses to their beams
life holding to a string

Draft ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written by my poetry sisters at the links below. Life has called some sisters away this month, but they'll be back.

• Tanita Davis
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Mary Lee at A Year of Reading. Happy poetry Friday friends!

Poetry Friday is Here!

Welcome! I'm happy you are here to celebrate all things poetry today.

The first Friday of the month is always one of my favorite days because I get to share writing that I've engaged in with my poetry sisters. This month the challenge Kelly presented us was to write in the style of Aphra Behn, "one of the most influential dramatists of the late seventeenth century, was also a celebrated poet and novelist." (Or so says the Poetry Foundation. I had not heard of her until this challenge.) You can learn more about her at the Poetry Foundation site.

I ditched my original poem because it sucked. Since I spent all day yesterday at Busch Gardens, I decided that's what I needed to write about instead. I'll admit that I find iambic tetrameter hard. It seems incomplete, so some of my lines are actually 9 syllables long. Here's my offering for this month's challenge, along with a video of my favorite ride from the day.

Roller Coasters After Fifty
I can’t contain the scream that falls
or squelch the laugh from deep within
from high to low my world a spin,
"Again!" the roller coaster calls.
Hard and fast my heart pounds out a beat
surely you can hear it thumping
holding to the bar feels like a cheat
loud and bumpy, cars are jumping.
Fifty-something's not too old to ride.
Live a little on the wild side.

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written written by my poetry sisters at the links below.

• Legacy by Tanita Davis
• Let Flowers Fall by Liz Garton Scanlon
• Poor She-Spye by Kelly Fineman
• The Sixth by Sara Lewis Holmes
• Things I Will Miss When We Move by Laura Purdie Salas

I'm thrilled to hosting this shindig today. I'm rounding this up old-school style, so leave a link and I'll get you listed. Happy poetry Friday friends!

*****
Original Poetry
Kay McGriff is offering up a poem entitled Sunflowers.

At Random Noodling, Diane Mayr is sharing an ekphrastic poem entitled Iconography.

Over at A Word Edgewise, Mitchell Linda has a series of haiku that tell the story of a Flamingo named Bob.

Over at Nix the Comfort Zone, Molly is sharing some light-hearted verse.

Catherine Flynn of Reading to the Core is sharing a poem that begins with the line "All is in flux."

JoAnn Early Macken is sharing a bevy of haiku.

Heidi Mordhosrt of my juicy little universe is sharing a metaphor poem and thoughts about using metaphor dice to generate ideas.

Over at Wild Rose Reader, Elaine Magliaro is sharing some poems on beetles.

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater is sharing a poem on Monarchs, some lovely photos, and writing advice.

Matt Forrest Esenwine of Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme shares a poem entitled Standing at the Door, Mid-Summer.

Carol Varsalona of Beyond Literacy Link is sharing a gardening poem inspired by a Twitter chat.

Irene Latham of Live Your Poem shares some thoughts about The Lost Words by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris. That book inspired an original poem, Skunk, written in the form used in the book.

Mandy of Enjoy and Embrace Writing shares a poem entitled Inside and Out.

Over at Mainely Write, Donna is sharing some acrostics and other poems on the theme of looking back/looking forward.

Poetry of Others
Mary Lee Hahn of A Year of Reading is sharing a haiku by Issa.

Over at Bildungsroman, Little Willow is sharing A Song on the End of the World by Czeslaw Milosz.

Tara Smith is swinging open the doors on a new blog, a new phase in life, a new adventure, and sharing Mary Oliver's poem Going to Walden.

Ruth from There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town is sharing thoughts of home and a bit of poetry by Wislawa Szymborska.

Over at Carol's Corner, Carol is sharing a trio of Naomi Shihab Nye poems.

Ramona of Pleasures From the Page is sharing the poem Moments of Summer by Racael Hadas.

Poetry Swap Goodies
Linda B. of Teacher Dance is sharing her latest poetry swap surprise.

Tabatha Yeatts is sharing her poetry swap swag, origami with poems!

Michelle Kogan a poem about the Plein Air event she's participating in, as well as sharing some poetry swap goodness.

Over at Wondering and Wandering, Christie is sharing her poetry sway swag.

Other Poetic Tidbits
Over at Kurious Kitty's Kurio Kabinet, Diane Mayr is sharing some spider poetry.

Kimberly Hutmacher continues the Bayou Song blog tour.


That's a wrap! Happy poetry Friday all. 

Poetry Friday - Writing Limericks with My Sisters

Tanita issued our challenge this month, which was to write limericks (3!) on the topic of bees and birds.

As usual, I wrote these at the last minute. I enjoy writing limericks because it's really the only time I allow myself to be silly when writing poetry. I suppose I should take this as encouragement to be silly a bit more often in my writing.

Here's what I ended up with.

There once was a bird in a tree
Who looked down unkindly on me
     He rose into the sky
     And shat in my eye
Then returned to his branch filled with glee


There once was a bee in my room
Drawn by the sweet scent of perfume
     He buzzed through the night
     Kept me up ’till dawn’s light
Then in anger my shoe spelled his doom


In a fruit basket near a ripe plum
Flew a bee round and round with a hum
     I swatted and swore
     But he knew the score
And repaid me by stinging my bum

Poems ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written written by my poetry sisters at the links below. 

• Tanita Davis
• Kelly Fineman
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Liz Garton Scanlon

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Buffy Silverman at Buffy's Blog. Happy poetry Friday friends.

Poetry Friday - Toasting with My Poetry Sisters

Sara issued our challenge this month, which was to "write a pithy (or extended) toast to someone or something that could be recited on some occasion. You may use a form or not, as you see fit, but the toast must begin and end with the same two words."

Sigh ... I've never written a toast in my life, so I found this a bit daunting. Heck, I find most of our challenges daunting! The hardest bit for me was finding an appropriate topic. I fiddled for a long time, trying to find something I actually wanted to celebrate. Here's what I ended up with.

A Toast To My Sisters

A toast to my sisters
who see with keen eyes
the smallest details
from the ground to the sky

A toast to my sisters
who wrestle with words
and wrangle with meter
that begs to be heard

A toast to my sisters
who write it all down
then revise and rework
every verb, every noun

A toast to my sisters
who follow their hearts
give voice to the voiceless
emotion to art

To my poetry sisters
though we're miles apart
I raise up a glass to
offer my heart
and a toast.

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2018. All rights reserved.

You can read the pieces written written by my poetry sisters at the links below. 

• Tanita Davis
• Kelly Fineman
• Sara Lewis Holmes
• Laura Purdie Salas
• Liz Garton Scanlon

I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Brenda Davis Harsham at Friendly Fairy Tales. Happy poetry Friday friends.

NPM 4-30: End of April

On this last day of April, it's fitting that I share this poem by Phillis Levin.

End of April

Under a cherry tree
I found a robin’s egg,
broken, but not shattered.

I had been thinking of you,
and was kneeling in the grass
among fallen blossoms

when I saw it: a blue scrap,
a delicate toy, as light
as confetti

It didn’t seem real,
but nature will do such things
from time to time.

I looked inside:
it was glistening, hollow,
a perfect shell

except for the missing crown,
which made it possible
to look inside.

What had been there
is gone now
and lives in my heart

where, periodically,
it opens up its wings,
tearing me apart.


I've enjoyed exploring different poets and poems this month. Thanks for following along. And remember, just because National Poetry Month is ending, doesn't mean the daily reading of poetry has to end.

NPM 4-29: Like Two Negative Numbers Multiplied by Rain

Today I'm sharing a poem by Jane Hirshfield.

Like Two Negative Numbers Multiplied by Rain

Lie down, you are horizontal.
Stand up, you are not.

I wanted my fate to be human.

Like a perfume
that does not choose the direction it travels,
that cannot be straight or crooked, kept out or kept.

Yes, No, Or
—a day, a life, slips through them,
taking off the third skin,
taking off the fourth.

And the logic of shoes becomes at last simple,
an animal question, scuffing.

Old shoes, old roads—
the questions keep being new ones.
Like two negative numbers multiplied by rain
into oranges and olives.


Happy Sunday all.

NPM 4-28: Insomniac's Song

Today I'm sharing a poem by Danielle Boodoo-Fortuné, a Trinidadian poet and artist. You can learn more about her at her web site.

Insomniac’s Song

The night is a bomb.

No one will sweep
up the morning.

I am wrecked,
startling,
a vessel hollow
and lost

Undone, I wander
an ocean of dying
moths, with a heartful
of flammable terrors
to buoy me.

This is my moon,
Sliver of bone
Rattling
among the flotsam

I know the sun
will not wake
for me.


Happy Saturday all.

NPM 4-27: Poems by Safia Elhillo

All this month I've been sharing poems as they move me. I've made an effort to read new to me poets and poems. Today I'm sharing poems by Safia Elhillo, a Sudanese-American poet known for her written and spoken poetry.


You can read poems from her book The January Children at Beltway Poetry Quarterly.
I hope you'll take some time to check out all the amazing poetry being shared today by Irene Latham at Live Your Poem. Happy poetry Friday all. See you tomorrow.

NPM 4-26: Requiem for the left hand

Today I'm sharing a poem by Cuban poet Nancy Morejón. You can learn more about Morejón at The Poetry Center at Smith College.

Requiem for the left hand

                         For Marta Valdés

On a map you can draw all the lines
          horizontal, straight, diagonal
from the meridian of Greenwich to the Gulf of Mexico
                    lines that more or less
reflect our idiosyncrasy

there are also very large maps
                    in the imagination
and infinite terrestrial globes
                    Marta

but today I guess that on very
          small map
the smallest
drawn on notebook paper
          all of history can fit
everything


Happy Thursday all.

NPM 4-25: Poem About My Rights

Today I'm sharing a poem by June Jordan, the daughter of Jamaican immigrants born in Harlem in 1936. I have just learned about her and her writing and am humbled by it. You can read more about her at the Poetry Foundation.

Poem about My Rights

Even tonight and I need to take a walk and clear
my head about this poem about why I can’t
go out without changing my clothes my shoes
my body posture my gender identity my age
my status as a woman alone in the evening/
alone on the streets/alone not being the point/
the point being that I can’t do what I want
to do with my own body because I am the wrong
sex the wrong age the wrong skin and
suppose it was not here in the city but down on the beach/
or far into the woods and I wanted to go
there by myself thinking about God/or thinking
about children or thinking about the world/all of it
disclosed by the stars and the silence:
I could not go and I could not think and I could not
stay there
alone
as I need to be
alone because I can’t do what I want to do with my own
body and
who in the hell set things up
like this

Read the poem in its entirety.


Happy Wednesday all.

NPM 4-24: Maps

Today I'm sharing a poem by Yesenia Montilla.

Maps

For Marcelo

Some maps have blue borders
like the blue of your name
or the tributary lacing of
veins running through your
father’s hands. & how the last
time I saw you, you held
me for so long I saw whole
lifetimes flooding by me
small tentacles reaching
for both our faces. I wish
maps would be without
borders & that we belonged
to no one & to everyone
at once, what a world that
would be. Or not a world
maybe we would call it
something more intrinsic
like forgiving or something
simplistic like river or dirt.
& if I were to see you
tomorrow & everyone you
came from had disappeared
I would weep with you & drown
out any black lines that this
earth allowed us to give it—
because what is a map but
a useless prison? We are all
so lost & no naming of blank
spaces can save us. & what
is a map but the delusion of
safety? The line drawn is always
in the sand & folds on itself
before we’re done making it.
& that line, there, south of
el rio, how it dares to cover
up the bodies, as though we
would forget who died there
& for what? As if we could
forget that if you spin a globe
& stop it with your finger
you’ll land it on top of someone
living, someone who was not
expecting to be crushed by thirst—


This poem was first published in Poem-a-Day on March 28, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.


Happy Tuesday all!