tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post2191349009746938468..comments2024-03-28T02:54:32.745-04:00Comments on The Miss Rumphius Effect: Monday Poetry Stretch - HomeTriciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18350907653629775293noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-65405299619998158922012-10-25T13:55:37.583-04:002012-10-25T13:55:37.583-04:00I REALLY like your poem, Tricia. I travel the same...I REALLY like your poem, Tricia. I travel the same route. CNY to Long Island. Think I know every inch of it after 42 years and have that same wonder as you at the end. I still say I am going home....though it really is not.Janet F.skanny17https://www.blogger.com/profile/07488350213473016250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-33482957459880003442012-10-25T13:51:33.367-04:002012-10-25T13:51:33.367-04:00I really like your poem, Steve! It exists on so ma...I really like your poem, Steve! It exists on so many levels for me and the teacher in me wants to seize it and use it to help kids with geometry terms. I think you are on to something with that btw. However, it speaks to me about love and the golden moments of childhood and our sort of similar roots in that triangle-roofed house we all lived in once upon a time. Janet F.skanny17https://www.blogger.com/profile/07488350213473016250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-16995106581671564172012-10-21T18:38:53.197-04:002012-10-21T18:38:53.197-04:00I can so relate to this poem, having grown up in t...I can so relate to this poem, having grown up in the same region and now living far away. <br /><br />Thank you for sharing.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-36480080331865776512012-10-20T11:31:57.591-04:002012-10-20T11:31:57.591-04:00These are all wonderful! Wow! These are all wonderful! Wow! Ruthhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12463332371535167975noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-88477871245010398392012-10-20T10:40:36.520-04:002012-10-20T10:40:36.520-04:00Really like this, Tricia, and the whole idea of a ...Really like this, Tricia, and the whole idea of a 'prefix' poem. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-10368324762599421442012-10-19T10:56:41.855-04:002012-10-19T10:56:41.855-04:00Oh, so sad! But the images are so clear and endear...Oh, so sad! But the images are so clear and endearing. Favorite stanza <i>-sick</i>Andromeda Jazmonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12355192738014962965noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-25553740361403142092012-10-19T10:54:53.304-04:002012-10-19T10:54:53.304-04:00How touching! This really resonates with me. How touching! This really resonates with me. Andromeda Jazmonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12355192738014962965noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-43412288814114361542012-10-19T10:53:47.621-04:002012-10-19T10:53:47.621-04:00I used this prompt to inspire my haiku, published ...I used this prompt to inspire my haiku, published on my blog for Friday Poetry with a photo of my porch swing:<br /><br />toys lined up by,<br />his empty laundry basket -<br />a motionless swing<br /><br />Andromeda Jazmon<br /><br />Sorry I seem to be feeling sad about home these days. Sigh.Andromeda Jazmonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12355192738014962965noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-90876181555922381172012-10-17T09:28:12.413-04:002012-10-17T09:28:12.413-04:00This is lovely, Doraine.This is lovely, Doraine.Hannah Mhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05199836869873367503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-91299301923771971352012-10-16T23:15:47.052-04:002012-10-16T23:15:47.052-04:00WITHROW POWER!WITHROW POWER!Charles Watershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18336052424127127605noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-59561369994006709412012-10-16T23:14:30.942-04:002012-10-16T23:14:30.942-04:00Very kind of you to write that Julie. Many thanks...Very kind of you to write that Julie. Many thanks!Charles Watershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18336052424127127605noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-45361383162691264962012-10-16T22:27:59.386-04:002012-10-16T22:27:59.386-04:00Signed Out with Daughter
He spoons coconut ice cr...Signed Out with Daughter<br /><br />He spoons coconut ice cream into his mouth,<br />thin folds of skin pleat the back of his arms.<br />He drinks blue air into hardening lungs,<br />tells me of the girl he wishes he’d married,<br />the one that got away in his old home town <br />that has shriveled and died. Not even a place to buy a Coke. <br /><br />He doesn’t want to go back <br />to the two Dorainehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04421672075192660319noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-84712715601984205612012-10-16T20:25:56.124-04:002012-10-16T20:25:56.124-04:00My poem this week is a prefix poem.
Home
-town
...My poem this week is a prefix poem.<br /><br /><b>Home</b><br /><br /><i>-town</i><br /><br />Just a dot<br />on the map<br />I once said I lived<br />upstate<br />but that means<br />something different<br />in the five boroughs<br />so now I claim<br />western NY<br />as mine<br /><br /><i>-grown</i><br /><br />Like summer corn<br />I grew straight<br />and tall here<br />wandering fields<br /Triciahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18350907653629775293noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-84477072941575235902012-10-16T17:25:31.834-04:002012-10-16T17:25:31.834-04:00Julie, I love all the sensory details in this, and...Julie, I love all the sensory details in this, and the song-like lyricism. Lovely.<br />Hannah Mhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05199836869873367503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-43807281703785991172012-10-16T15:25:29.252-04:002012-10-16T15:25:29.252-04:00These are lovely, and all different. What a rich t...These are lovely, and all different. What a rich topic. Here's mine, with inspiration from Naomi Shihab Nye's poem, Kindness.<br /><br />HOME<br /><br />Before you know what home really is<br />you must leave, feel its cool shade thinning<br />as you drive away. You must spend Sundays<br />on another couch, catless, no gentle quilt nearby,<br />no dim room with a narrow bed that knows<br Stephanie Parsley Ledyardhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05157035552236330676noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-17715227786303755102012-10-16T15:21:40.028-04:002012-10-16T15:21:40.028-04:00Love this!Love this!Stephanie Parsley Ledyardhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05157035552236330676noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-84693563574329369332012-10-16T10:36:42.290-04:002012-10-16T10:36:42.290-04:00Finding North
What happened to the
language of th...Finding North<br /><br />What happened to the<br />language of the <br />north?<br />To all the secret places—<br />the clocks, the mice,<br />the rabbit moon,<br />the milky breath <br />of morning?<br />To apples baking,<br />hotcakes rising,<br />the buttery, sugary<br />spicy taste of dawn?<br /><br />Show me, tell me,<br />take me there—<br />to sleeping gardens,<br />creeping vines,<br />toJulie Krantzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08882810450575183271noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-76730300170036331752012-10-16T10:32:29.251-04:002012-10-16T10:32:29.251-04:00"What nature and neglect can't ever take ..."What nature and neglect can't ever take away <br />are the memories of your childhood abode."<br /><br />So true, Charles. I enjoyed sharing in your memories. JulieJulie Krantzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08882810450575183271noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-86661560660145966232012-10-16T10:27:09.961-04:002012-10-16T10:27:09.961-04:00This is a revision of one of my older poems...
Fi...This is a revision of one of my older poems...<br /><br />Finding North<br /><br />What happened to the<br />language of the <br />north?<br />To all the secret places—<br />the clocks, the mice,<br />the rabbit moon,<br />the milky breath <br />of morning?<br />To apples baking,<br />hotcakes rising,<br />the buttery, sugary<br />spicy taste of dawn?<br /><br />Show me, tell me,<br />take me Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-30803187220502754422012-10-16T10:16:22.265-04:002012-10-16T10:16:22.265-04:00Here's a tanka about when that childhood home ...Here's a tanka about when that childhood home isn't safe and homey. . . .<br /><br />those warm rectangles<br />of soft-curtained light . . . <br />fled to the streets<br />I used to wonder what secrets<br />other houses held<br /><br />c 2012 by Hannah MahoneyHannah Mhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05199836869873367503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-10881375140869554812012-10-16T09:52:53.833-04:002012-10-16T09:52:53.833-04:00This is a revision of one of my older poems...
Fi...This is a revision of one of my older poems...<br /><br />Finding North<br /><br />What happened to the<br />language of the <br />north?<br />To all the secret places—<br />the clocks, the mice,<br />the rabbit moon,<br />the milky breath <br />of morning?<br />To apples baking,<br />hotcakes rising,<br />the buttery, sugary<br />spicy taste of dawn?<br /><br />Show me, tell me,<br />take me Julie Krantzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08882810450575183271noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-53733274828749140622012-10-16T08:38:58.754-04:002012-10-16T08:38:58.754-04:00Moving
“You’ll like it there,” Mom says.
“Your ro...Moving<br /><br />“You’ll like it there,” Mom says.<br />“Your room will be bigger<br />and we’ve painted it yellow.”<br />“Bright yellow?” I ask, “Bright<br />like the sun?” She shakes her head.<br />“Soft yellow, like butter. Here,<br />put this in the box.” I stick the cookbooks<br />in the box. “What about the kitchen?”<br />“Just white, but it has a nice window.”<br />I go look in our KateCoombshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05584944601221466789noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-73269268789962629232012-10-16T08:25:34.819-04:002012-10-16T08:25:34.819-04:00Oh, lovely. Love the last phrase especially... ou...Oh, lovely. Love the last phrase especially... our blue and trapezoidal sky.Julie Krantzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08882810450575183271noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-72865541776629381682012-10-15T23:31:02.062-04:002012-10-15T23:31:02.062-04:00In My Daughter's Early Drawings
We live in a ...<b>In My Daughter's Early Drawings</b><br /><br />We live in a square<br />topped by a triangle.<br />There is sometimes<br />a rhombus of a door<br />that no one opens<br />and smaller squares<br />of windows either side.<br />This is home to her.<br />To Mommy and to me.<br />Often our black cat<br />Desdemona figures in<br />her triple-circle body,<br />twin ice cream cones<br />for ears, Steven Withrowhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08424518148189688086noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320080607016581524.post-14713422245282685282012-10-15T19:50:51.956-04:002012-10-15T19:50:51.956-04:00CHILDHOOD ABODE
Quiet engulfs a skeleton
of what...CHILDHOOD ABODE<br /><br />Quiet engulfs a skeleton <br />of what was once our thriving home. <br /><br />Weeds stretch through the sidewalk<br />where I learned to ride my bike.<br /><br />Vats of brown sod replace lush green pasture <br />that I use to cut every Saturday.<br /><br />Shattered walls displace beige colored barriers where I frantically wrote my thoughts after my baby sister died. Charles Watershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18336052424127127605noreply@blogger.com