A very special thanks to Glenda Funk, Susan Ahlbrand, and Britt Decker for taking such good care of our writerly hearts and minds these past few days. And thank you to the writers and readers who have shared this space to honor all that poetry does for us and our students. We hope this space has nourished you. Please join us for the March Open Write with Stefani Boutelier and Wendy Everard. If you’d like to host a day of writing in future Open Writes, June through March, please sign up here.
Picture Book Poems with Britt Decker
Britt lives in Houston, Texas where she writes, reads, laughs, and learns alongside brilliant 10th graders. She began participating in writing communities in 2020 and has discovered the powerhouse poets of the monthly Open Writes. When Britt isn’t in the classroom or writing in her notebook, you can find her drinking black coffee and discussing educational inequities with her husband while wrangling her toddler and changing the infant’s diaper.
Inspiration
Even in the high school classroom, children’s picture books serve as excellent opportunities for mini-lessons. Students enjoy the playfulness, rhythm, and word choice.
Picture books often have an ability to broach life’s most difficult topics in beautiful and heartbreaking ways. They take us back to sitting in the lap of someone pouring words over us or the joy of sitting on a carpet amongst our friends.
Process
Choose a picture book – a favorite from your childhood or one you’ve recently come to love. Write next to the beauty of the book’s words. If you need to access a digital picture book, consider creating a free account with Epic to access thousands of picture books or Brightly’s Storytime YouTube channel.
Ideas to consider:
- Select a line from the book to use as your poem’s inspiration.
- Use a striking line from the book to use as your poem title.
- Select a picture from the book to use as your poem’s inspiration.
- Use a theme derived from the book to use as your poem’s inspiration.
You can create a free account with Epic to access thousands of picture books: https://www.getepic.com/educator-sign-up/profile
Another option is Brightly Storytime: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvQagFNHMrGgQpYunk4rHXg
Or check out the 2022 Media Awards:
Britt’s Poem
Inspired by Matt de la Pena’s “LOVE” excerpt:
“One day you find your family
nervously huddled around the TV,
but when you ask what happened,
they answer with silence
and shift between you and the screen.”
Infant to Toddler
Mijo, 7 months old
when the world
shut
down.
Six feet. Social distance. Masks required.
Crawling across the house.
Pulling himself up.
Fighting the gate trapping him
in the living room
in the house
out of danger.
Online learning. Zoom teaching. Closed daycare.
Avoiding parks, restaurants, museums,
neighbors,
great-grandparents,
familia.
Coronavirus pandemic. California wildfires. George Floyd.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Will you participate in #VerseLove 2022?
April is National Poetry Month. The Ethical ELA community creates a celebration of all that poetry does for our hearts and minds by offering daily writing inspiration and a supportive space to discover what happens when we write poetry all month long.
Britt, First, let me celebrate your gorgeous smile.
Next, let me thank you for such a creative prompt.
Finally, let me thank you for your (shared) leadership this week!
<3 <3 <3
????
Wow, Britt, what a wonderful way to capture the months of covid your son experienced in his early life. It was a powerful reminder for everyone of what we went through, and then nice to see the in between lines that show what you’re little guy was up to. Nice, and a great prompt today. I’ll be using it more.
Today, I took a line from a new book, Mighty Wings, by Debbie Clement and Sarah Joy, and wrote a golden shovel about my grandson, due in June.
My new love already holds my
Heart. I haven’t met him yet, as he still
Sings his song of creation. “I’m
Watching you,” I whisper.
Your sweet life will bring joy and a
Mighty hope of new growth,
Wings of a bright future.
Congratulations, Denise, on the coming of a new little one in your family. You have a poem for the baby book. I love the ending line especially. Susie
Denise, first, congratulations. Second, the golden shovel is the perfect form for today’s prompt. I love your inspiration line. It fits so well w/ the book I chose today. I think we’re both feeling all the feels at the prospect of new grandsons.
Denise, great news and congrats to you and your family. Your poem is a love letter that your baby will cherish!
This is beautiful:
❤️
Great prompt today! It was fun reading through some old books on my shelf. This poem is inspired by A Fly Went By by Mike McClintock–one of my mom’s favorites.
Misunderstanding
I see it first out of the corner of my eye–
my heart fills with the sense of despair.
But, where has he gone, that eight-legged guy?
The monstrosity was just there! I swear!
Paranoia is a shadow: above, below, and behind.
I wince at every subtle change–
any sudden movement is an attack against my mind.
This bedroom, once familiar, now seems strange.
I shake off the fear, act brave, and think brighter–
It’s then I realize it was a lint ball–not a spider.
Rachelle,
I don’t remember this book–I’ll look it up–it sounds fun! I like how your language builds suspense and sounds right out of the pages of a kid’s book. Awesome!
Rachelle – The rhythm of this poem immediately sends me back to reading it aloud just for the pleasure of the crafting. Lovely how it has just the right bounce to accentuate the tone of a wee misunderstanding. So we’ll done! Susie
The Important Poem
(Inspired by “The Important Book” by Margaret Wise Brown
https://www.slideshare.net/ruthdemshick/the-important-book-ppt
The important thing
about a poem is
that you feel it.
It’s like a Tic Tak
that bites your tongue.
It’s like the burst of heat from an oven
that singes your eyelashes.
It’s like the sound of an owl
when you’re on a late-night walk.
But the important thing
about a poem
is that you write it.
The feelings are so familiar — thanks for making the connections for me today. I love the “sound of an owl” simile in particular!
<3
Yes, Allison! I agree with all of this! You have to feel it, and then you need to write it. It’s as easy (and as hard) as that. 🙂
Allison! So fun! I loved using this book to get
students sharing what’s important about their families. You inspire me! Tomorrow I’ll find my book and create a plan for next week!
?
Allison – You surely capture those reactions that can come with a poem… the intensity of that heat blast, the zing on the tongue, the sheer luck of hearing that deep whoo of an owl. And the edge of the last 3 lines that push us, as Nike might say, to just do it! You sure do deliver on this poem… always worth the wait. Hugs, Susie
Hi Britt,
Well, I am late posting and I probably won’t get time to read/comment until tomorrow. This is a week from hell but this too shall pass.
Thank you for selecting picture books to lead our inspiration. I am a huge fan of picture books! It was hard to decide but I finally chose Amanda Gorman’s picture book Change Sings.
I selected these two lines for two ROUGH Golden Shovels: I’m a chant that rises and rings. There is hope where my change sings.
I’m not afraid of change
A new song to sing
Chant a verse affirming
That anything I conceive
Rises into possibilities
and nothing is too hard when
Rings of power envelope me.
If I push for justice, there
Will be resistance and it is
No threat to my hope
Standing in my power where
Persistence drives my
Path toward humanity’s change
Where love for all sings
© Stacey L. Joy, 2/23/22
Stacey — powerful poem with such a hopeful message: despite challenges, persistence will pay off toward needed change. Thanks for sharing this today! I hope your week gets better soon!
Yes! Stacey, there’s that Stacey voice, every bit as powerful as Amanda’s. What a terrific choice for tonight’s inspiration! I so love that the push against resistance that brings hope and change. Yes! Love that strength. Your rough week maybe adds power here… amazing how the hell in a week can fire ? the words in a poem. You are a model to us all. Stay strong, my friend! Love, Susie
Stacey,
Im so sorry you’re having a rough week. I hope the next two days are much better. I love Amanda Gorman’s book and thought about choosing it as my inspiration. You picked perfect lines for your golden shovels. My favorite part of your poems is the emphasis on personal power as an impetus for change.
Stacey, peace to you as you finish this week. You’re on the downhill at least. Like Susie said, your voice resonates with Amanda’s here in your powerful golden shovels.
Your power to push for justice, as you show love comes through in these lines…
This was one of my sons’ and my favorite books when they were younger.
The Secret Room – Uri Shulevitz
It shouldn’t take a
riddle of a secret room
to understand why
being honest and truthful
is better than greed and lies
Cara, concise and poignant. I just looked up the book; thank you for the recommendation.
Sounds like an interesting book which reveals a classic theme. I love that you were able to capture it in a tanka
Care, I love the slant rhyme in your poem. It creates a rhythm for life. I love how emphatic this simple statement is. It’s simply a perfect poem and deserves a place in a book of children’s poetry.
Inspired by Because by Mo Willems
One person, one song
inspires another
ignites sparks of music love
empowers practices and work
draws people together
an orchestra forms
a symphony created
In a dark concert hall
a little girl with a ticket
tingles from pulsing musical electricity
absorbs the colors in sound
is changed
Tammi, I am astounded at how the verbs operate in your poem. Thank you for sharing!
Tammi, I do not know this book, but I found a few pages on Amazon! Your poem is itself a song. I love how you lift up music through your words.
Tammi, those first two lines are golden. Wonderful verb choice: inspires, ignites, empowers, draws. These words create a wonderful cause-effect in the poem.
Thank you, Britt! This was fun.
I want to live in a Jan Brett world
Where thatch is on the roof
And red and white stripes wave on the clothesline
I want to caress the knitted woolens
And stroke the spiky hedgehog
I want to place my palm on the peeling
bark of the birch tree
And open the trunk with its
Squeaky brass hinges
Sometimes I want to escape to
The border of the page where
People would really have to look to find me
I want to encounter a Ukrainian boy named Nicki
in his embroidered red and green tunic
I want to meet Baba and let
Her braid my hair in front of the fireplace
with the painted sunflowers
I want to look out on snow that
Drapes everything in layers of creamy frosting
I want to meet the amber-eyed owl who dares climb into a
Mitten with a mole, a rabbit, and a hedgehog
I want to roll out the cinnamon-colored dough
To make gingerbread babies in Matti’s mother’s kitchen
Where copper pans and pots hang above the tiled mantle
I want to pinch the ribbon candy from
The corners of each page
I don’t know why the gingerbread baby would
Ever leave the place of his birth for the cold hard world
Why would anyone leave the peaceful haven
Where everyone is included and welcome
Katrina — Love how you pull me into Jan Brett’s world with your vivid imagery of “thatch on the roof and peeling bark of the birch tree.” I agree with you, “don’t know why the gingerbread baby would ever leave …”
That was a wonderful line!
Katrina, your poem is stunning, whirling in images and color. Your use of sensory appeal is so precise, and I love how you weave all of these beautiful details into your poem. Love the idea of stroking the spiky hedgehog and enjoyed the contrast of creamy frosting and the amber-eyed owl. Most of all I love your end…”the cold hard world”..and “where everyone is included and welcome”. Breathtaking poem!
What a GORGEOUS poem, friend! You’ve inspired me to try a new something in my writing. 🙂 Thank you for sharing!
Katrina,
I love Jan Brett’s books; my children and I were always fascinated with her illustrations! You hooked me on the first line. The Mitten was one of our favorite books to read. I felt like I was in one of her books because of your vivid and sensory details. I love all of your lines especially these “I want to caress the knitted woolens / And stroke the spiky hedgehog”, “I want to meet Baba and let /Her braid my hair in front of the fireplace”, “I want to look out on snow that / Drapes everything in layers of creamy frosting”. What a great ending “Why would anyone leave the peaceful haven
Where everyone is included and welcome.” Thank you for sharing your poem. tI brought back beautiful memories and joy to me. 🙂
Big WOW. I recognize the book in the sensory EXPLOSION you provide. “I want to pinch the ribbon candy from the corners of each page” was the line that sent me spirling into deep memory to recall this beautiful book. THANK you for your gift of a poem.
[From The Dot by Peter H. Reynolds: “The blue mixed with the yellow.
She discovered that she could make a green dot.”]
IT STARTS WITH A DOT
“Now sign it,”
the teacher understood
a tiny splash of paint
can become a seminal work of art,
but only because
the teacher and then the student
believed it into being, believed
it deserved to be claimed, owned, signed,
and the dot took on a life
and an artist stepped into new shoes —
a dot of this and a dot of that,
the act of creating
colored her world
forward.
by Susie Morice, February 23, 2022©
Peter Reynolds and the magic of a teacher – what a perfectly beautiful combo. Thank you for sharing, Susie!
Susie, oh my gosh, I absolutely love your end “the act of creating/colored her world/forward” Such a perfectly and precise final point to the whole message of The Dot. You champion the power of being believed. Deeply moving poem! Hugs, friend! Barb
Susie — love these lines and the way you capture the essence of The Dot.
“but only because
the teacher and then the student
believed it into being, believed
it deserved to be claimed, owned, signed,
and the dot took on a life”
Susie,
I always loved this story! Such a wonderful message which is nicely recreated in your poem.
Oh, Susie! I did not know this book. I experienced it here:
Today I worked with my students on the concept of moving (in writing) from the abstract to the concrete or from the concrete to the abstract. What you’ve shared here is a perfect example of how we move between the two in poetry.
I also LOVED the shape (parabola?) of your poem. Shape adds meaning. <3
Susie, this poem is perfect in its illumination of an idea that so much depends on a teacher who believes in a student who in turn learns to believe in the power of one dot, the genesis of art that finds its way into a canvas. Love it and you.
What a lovely summary of The Dot. The closing is succinct and perfect…
My Inspiration is Pink and Say by Patricia Polacco.
Unlikely Friendships by Seana H. Wright
Two people
different sizes
shapes colors
from different regions
hair texture is different
skins colors are different
yet they’re
in awe of each other
and since they’re young men
they’re curious about each other’s
bodies, thoughts, feelings, hair
but know they shouldn’t ask about it
since its not crucial.
There’s an ease to their conversations
and most brotherhoods are
like that, even if they are unlikely.
Each person acknowledges and appreciates the
other and eventually comes to adore their harmony.
History has shown us though, that when danger comes,
sometimes those unions are extinguished
along with the men.
Like the three in Mississippi in 1964
Like MLK Jr.
Like Pinkus Aylee from Pink and Say.
Seana, how tender and heartbreaking. I’m going to be looking to check this book out at the library ASAP.
“yet they’re
in awe of each other”
Beautiful! This reminds me of a YA book “They Both Die At The End.” Thank you for sharing. <3
Seana, wow, what an incredible poem you’ve created here. The way men bond and are broken is striking here. Your end is heartbreaking. I sure wish our world worked harder to create harmony rather than war. Thank you for sharing your powerful poem today!
Seana — Your last stanza is so poignant and heartbreaking. “History has shown us though, that when danger comes,/sometimes those unions are extinguished/along with the men.”
Pink and Say is a powerful book and your poem captures this feeling of friendship and loss.
Britt! Long time no see. It’s great to see you sharing your poetry and your words in this space. I don’t get the chance to explore picture books, but I’d like to since I want to share more books with my nieces. Your suggestions sent me on quiet the adventure and I eventually dug up one of my favorites as a kid “Harvey Potter’s Balloon Farm” by Jerdine Nolen and Mark Buehner. Even today, I could still picture the visuals inside and I always loved the colors and magic of the story.
Given recent news from Texas, I decided to write this poem inspired by the colors of the book and a line from the book: “He was so riled up over the fun we were having with our balloons , he packed up and moved to parts unknown.”
—
Do Say Gay
Yellow orange red —
warm like love.
Indigo blue green —
kind as a cool breeze.
I have always been accepted
by the rainbow.
But the rainbow
hasn’t always been accepted.
Rejected red,
Outraged orange,
You’re not welcome yellow,
Get out green,
Bigoted blue,
and Indignant indigo
No!
I won’t allow the rainbow’s
prismatic pride to be dimmed!
The rainbow has always accepted,
but I will not accept
their plans to grind
it down to gray.
Kind as a cool breeze:
green blue indigo.
Warm like love:
yellow orange red.
The rainbow will shine on.
ERICA! First of all, miss your face. So glad to see you here! Second, I felt embraced by your poem, friend.
This gave me chills. This poem should be printed and posted in the classroom. Amazing!! Thank you, thank you.
Erica, I love your title! Your word choice is spectacular with describing the colors. The positive end is as bright and beautiful as the rainbow. I am going to have to find this book and read it. I’m not sure I ever have. I say, “Don’t let anyone be ground down to gray…” Brilliant poem!
Erica — Love the personification of the rainbow and this stanza is so empowering!
The rainbow has always accepted,
but I will not accept
their plans to grind
it down to gray.
Erica, WOW! ????❤️? “prismatic pride” is a perfect phrase. This poem is a call to action, especially in these lines:
“I will not accept
their plans to grind
it down to gray.”
I hope you send the poem to the newspaper, to that homophobe in Texas, and to many other places. It’s wonderful.
Britt,
Now, this is a fun prompt! And limitless. I spent WAY too much time looking through all of my picture books (I teach 8th grade, but I read them a picture book every day) trying to find the perfect fit for this “assignment.” Soooo many options . . .
Days
When a
terrible
horrible
no good
very bad
day
overshadows
all of the
awesome
incredible
so great
very good
days
we get fooled
into thinking
we live in a
rotten
awful
not fair
really unjust
world.
Does the day
make us
or do we
make the day?
~Susan Ahlbrand
23 February 2022
Susan, I had one of those terrible, no good days…ugh! I will reflect on your final lines. Love the way you formatted this as it adds the perfect pace and adds punch to the words. Very clever and timely poem for me!
That’s a wonderful essential question: do we make the day, or do we allow ourselves to be made by the day? You make us think – – sometimes we have control over it, and sometimes we don’t.
Susan — How perfect for a children’s picture book to ask the profound question! Yes! I think this is, for sure, one I’d have used with my 8th graders…those “terrible/horrible” days were certainly a part of the 8th grade year for way too many kids…it made me smile just to think of that pouty-life-sucks kind of pronouncement that an 8th grader manages to say way too often. 🙂 Fun. Susie
Susan, I love this! I was just having a similar conversation with my seniors today. (We are at the “What a piece of work is a man” speech in Hamlet (right after he tells Rosencrantz and Guildenstern that “there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”) Thanks for this!
Susan, I love the word limitless – thank you for the encouragement.
Your poem stops me in my tracks; in fact, I want to pose those to my high schoolers. I’d be interested to see what they say. Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece on a classic!
Susan, you are right about so many options. I am beginning to wonder if picture books might be my favorite genre. I love the possibility in your final lines, “Does the day/make us/or do we/make the day?”
Susan — what a great question. So true too. Every morning our 8th grade does announcements, and they always end with “make it a great day or not.” Definitely a good mindset.
Britt, what a wonderful prompt. I adore children’s book. This poem is for my wild one, Alexander Maximillian.
Sail Back Home to Me
Oh please don’t go
to the forest of green and gold
where anything may eat you up
Oh please don’t go
where the wild things are
gnashing and roaring their terrible teeth
Oh please don’t go
sail back home to me in a private boat
I’ve got supper waiting
And it’s still hot
Barb Edler
23 February 2022
Barb, this is a heart-tugging, emotion-filled poem. “Oh, please don’t go” are familiar words. You hit my heart, and I love this response to Where the Wild Things Are.
Barb — Aah, “the wild things”… I love the repetition and the “terrible teeth”… sweet poem. Great choice! Susie
Barb, I love what you’ve done here – home and warmth and comfort. Thank you!!
Barb, I want to hijack your lines and send them to my sons. “I’ve got supper waiting/And it’s still hot” always! Whether or not you meant to, you spoke to the mama in me.
Barb — I totally feel this one. This book was one of my son’s favorite books when he was little and now he lives out of state. I wish he’d “sail back home to me” too.
Quote:Reach for your own words. (Peter H. Reynolds)
Poem:
Reach for your words
like they’re the last one’s
on earth
For your words are yours
your forever and ever
own your words because
they’re special
Words.
Chloe, So glad to be seeing a Peter Reynolds book here! I love the idea of reaching for something as if it’s your last. It adds weight, consideration. Sandwiching the poem between Poem and Words is especially lovely.
Chloe, what a lovely poem! Yes, find your voice and use your own special words. They will be forever yours! Sensational message and poem!
I love how you captured how precious words are to us and how we should take ownership of them. Thank you for sharing this brief and powerful poem!
Chloe, absolutely beautiful. “Reach for your words” to “own your words” makes me feel so seen! How often I feel I try to reach for words and then want to hold on desperately for fear of losing them.
Thank you <3
Chloe — This so true! Words are so powerful and special. I really love the message of your poem. This line “Reach for your words/like they’re the last one’s on earth” — Really packs a punch!
Britt,
I love this prompt and love using picture books w/ teens. Your poem is lovely, and you chose a spectacular book on which to base it. The poem beautifully articulates the uncertainty of bringing children into the world during a pandemic.
I chose “The Year We Learned to Fly” by Jacqueline Woodson, illustrated byRafael Lopez as my inspiration. My son, who is 37 and whom I thought would never have children or get married, is engaged to a beautiful black woman, and they are pregnant. The baby is a boy, and they have a name selected to honor their son’s African American heritage. I may revise this later to include his name.
This is the Year
This is the year we meet,
first in an ultrasound image,
you a
squirming
tadpole-like
embryo swimming
in a pool of amniotic fluid…
This is the year a cocoa brown beauty
you’ll call momma &
nuzzle & reach
your tiny
hands to &
wrap your
arms around
will carry you into our family…
This is the year your coconut-skinned
papa, my baby boy,
kisses your mama’s belly,
cradles his two loves &
awaits your arrival,
nervous & excited to love & teach you…
This is the year every good thing you are
converges on our worlds
to form a family
to fill my heart
to make me your grandma
And I will dote over you & spoil you &
shower you with all the love
my heart can hold.
—Glenda Funk
Oh I am so happy for you. Grandchildren are the best and your poem shows such love and anticipation. Congratulations. Love the color use in your words.
Glenda, This is a poem after my own grandmother heart. I love it. I hope you save the poems you write for this new child. The repetition of this is the year is affective.
Glenda, love, love, love your poem. Such gorgeous imagery and heartfelt emotions. I can’t quit crying, I love this so much. “To form a family/to fill my heart/to make me your grandma”…ahhh..sweet, sweet, tenderness!
Well, Glenda, if that’s not a bucket of love, then I don’t know what is. This is a wonderful welcoming poem for your new little boy. How terrific. Put this poem in his baby book for sure! Then, do a counted cross-stitch wall plaque with it. Then, embroider it on a tea towel. Save this beautiful poem so that little dickens never forgets what a great grandma he’s got. Hugs and congratulations to your son, his lovely wife, and little grandson! 🙂 Susie
Blame it on the hormones or something, but I am sitting here crying. Glenda, congratulations!! To you, your son, your family. I agree with Margaret – save the poems for him! 🙂
Here’s to her pregnancy – may it be easy on her feet and tummy and back! Ha.
Oh, my goodness, Glenda! Hooray for grandsons! I’m tickled for you and them. This poem is filled with so much love.
Wow, just so much goodness here. Congratulations!
I love this prompt and will definitely use it with students. I wrote to a Susan Verde and Peter Reynolds picture book “I Am One”
“Beautiful things start with just one.”
One wood duck hen
flies in the house each day
to lay a single egg
one by one
until her clutch becomes a dozen
twittering,
chittering,
jumping
chicks.
(We have a wood duck house with a RIng doorbell camera inside. The hen has been coming each day for more than a week now. She lays one egg each day. Once she has laid her clutch, she will sit on them for 28-30 days. They all hatch at once, then jump into the bayou the very next day.)
Margaret! This is fascinating so many which ways! All of the singulars in the first half (one, duck, hen, house, each, day, single, egg, clutch) until the clutch becomes a dozen and then it’s action, action, action! And I’m so glad to see the word chittering here – someone told me I shouldn’t use invented words in my novel (referring to chittering). And I’d love to see this process for the wood duck hen right straight through til the bayou jump!
Margaret, this is lovely. Beginning w/ one is such an important message and how so many good things get done.
Margaret, gosh, I love the sounds and actions here, and the title is perfect. “Until her clutch becomes a dozen” great line to set up the ending action. Beautiful!
Oh, Margaret, that’s fantastic! I’m totally jealous that you have wood duckies coming! They are THE most precious little ducks. I just love them and love the one-by-one of the clutch in your poem. Susie
I love the line your chose – it is mighty. And I love the wood ducks and these images. There’s so much hope in your poem, alongside beauty and life.
Margaret, this is great! I love how you have mostly (save for “single”) one syllable words until your “until” and then it’s “becomes,” “dozen,” “twittering,” “chittering,” and “jumping.” Very cool!
There is a lesson blooming here for me – the beauty of one by one. 😉 Gorgeous poem, Margaret!
Also, how cool that y’all have a Ring doorbell in the wood duck house. Creative!
Final Transmission
Before
the impact of 8675-309 (the regrettably
crowd-sourced named asteroid)
into the colony of The Sea of Tranquility,
before
the thick, staticky line went dead
before
The extinction-level event occurred
soundlessly in the vacuum
of space, bodies careening into
one another,
Walter,
the new voice of Mission Control,
lifting his coffee cup to his lips,
savoring his quiet first day on the job,
watched
the horror unfold in slow motion
on the monitors before him
before
uttering one final thought:
Goodnight, Moon.
______________________________________________
Thank you for your prompt and your mentor poem, Britt. (The topography of your text really helped drive home the import of your poem!) In terms of your prompt, I started with the title of the picture book and then thought, huh, what could I do with this…. Lol.
Frightening! Reminds of the movie “Look Up.” The repetition of before is affective.
Scott,
With every “before” I was anticipating after and kept thinking about how we are and will always be in this the after, how in reading this poem, I was in the after. And then, I also noticed: what juxtaposition from “space/bodies” to Walter with is coffee cup witnessing, uttering.
Well done,
Sarah
Scott, your poems are always a trip and I’m happy to be along on the ride! I can’t help but think about this through the lens of a child of the future reading it as a PB and what it forewarns, the impending doom we face, and the irony that it’s all stemming from what’s essentially aimed at children.
Scott, your poem is chilling! To end with that sweet Goodnight, Moon based on the previous lines adds a mighty punch. Outstanding poem!
How creatively frightening! I love, love Goodnight, Moon. You’ve stretched my thinking. With permission, I’m eager to print your poem as a mentor text?!
Thanks for sharing!!
Absolutely! (I don’t know if this makes it better or worse, but I wasn’t trying to make it overly — overtly — as horrific as it, perhaps, turned out to be. Lol. I was just taken by the title of Goodnight, Moon and since my wife and I had just recently watched the Korean sci-fi series, The Silent Sea, on Netflix which was about the actual moon, I’m sure that influenced me. I also, like last week, listened to Neil deGrasse Tyson on a podcast so I’m sure that unconsciously influenced me, too. I started thinking about the prompt astronomically at that point while consciously playing with the timeline of events. I liked the idea of starting with “before” the catastrophic event — whatever that would be. Then I tried to offset an asteroid crashing into the moon — and eventually into the earth — with a little humor by giving the asteroid a silly name, right? A pop song from the 80’s…and the fact that the name was a result of “crowd sourcing” the name because, if we’ve learned anything from Boaty McBoatface, it’s that people, if given the choice, will give things really dumb names. Oh, and I thought it was kinda funny that it was his first day on the job.) Sorry for the longish “walk through”!
Friendship
“I’m not afraid of
storms or waves”
I worried,
eyeing the expanse
of water.
Do I need to ferry across?
All it takes is a friend
to lift me up
and with a few steps
carry me across a puddle
that I thought was the ocean.
from Grasshopper On The Road by Arnold Lobel (1978)
Many “thank you’s” to Glenda, Susan and Britt for these prompts and the fun of writing this month.
I love this question “Do I need to ferry across?” I was thinking about listening to this poem and if I would hear “ferry” or “fairy” especially with the line that follows “All it takes is a friend/to lift me up.”
Peace,
Sarah
Susan, “I’m not afraid…” I love those opening words and their affirmation of friendship that follows.
Susan, what a perfect title, and I love how you use the question to set off the two stanzas. Absolutely adore the lines “carry me across a puddle/that I thought was the ocean”. Sensational poem!
I love this poem — the imagery and the way the “story” of the poem unfolds was just a great message. It truly captures how we need our friends to be brave in the face of a “storm.”
Susan, such a lovely tribute to friendship. Trepidation at that expanse of water, turned to trust with the presence of a friend. I love how the perspective changes from the expanse looking like an ocean when alone, but as only a puddle when a friend has carried you across. Speaks of how we can magnify things in out minds and also to how we need one another.
Thank you Britt for this fun prompt. I loved your idea of spacing techniques, so I copied off of you. I hope that’s ok. Your poem is a stark reminder of how long we have truly been in this “Twilight Zone.” It puts it all into perspective. As I am sitting at home on this lovely AMI Day #3, I want to set this up properly. One book that was not in my childhood, but I’ve grown to love as a mother is The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. I love the vivid images and literacy devices. In honor of this day, with a possibility of snow I haven’t seen on my side of town, here is my poem.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch, his feet sank into the snow. He walked with his toes pointed out, like this: He walked with his toes pointed in, like that:”
While He Slept, He Dreamed That the Sun Had Melted All the Snow Away
Plop! Sometimes that’s how life is,
unexpected. Not knowing what may fall. Bird poop on your head
may ruin your day, but sunkissed
rain
drops
or
d
r
i
p
p
y
snow slapped
on your head may make you laugh out loud.
It does matter
to you, the way you walk, what shoes you wear, and how you look, to you.
Walking
in unexpectant times: slick,
sliding on ice, an unfortunate fall-that’s life;
crunching in the snow, the sound
of a long trek ahead- more life;
splish-splashing in water ponds, one was too deep
and you now have soaking ankles- that’s life too.
No matter the ter_____rain, how you plant
your feet after you land
is where you are going.
Dreams are what realities are made of.
Your dreams have feet too.
Jessica,
First, I am amazed that you got the formatting to be this way. Everytime I try some spacing, it is undone when I hit submit, but you have done it, and the use of whitespace add so much more visual meaning to the poem. Just noticing that and the punctuation here. It’s like a superpower!
Sarah
Google Docs copy and paste! I’ve seen some poems and responses done here, and I’ve never thought about it. It definitely made a difference with my poem! Thank you so much!
Sarah, I was too brief before I hit the post button. I used the space bar and enter button to place my letters and words.
Jessica, oh how I love thinking about our feet having dreams! Such a beautiful landing line on your poem. And all of the action words, the soaking and splish-splashing, the slapping and plopping – love it all! And I agree with Sarah, we need to know your spacing trick!
Jennifer, that was something I thought of last minute, but it is so true! Thank you so much. This was truly a fun poem to create. And I used Google Docs, typed it as a regular document and used the space bar to place everything how I wanted it.
Jessica, the formatting and word play in this poem are outstanding. Love the sounds and actions, and your end is the perfect message! Very fun and upbeat poem!
Thank you so much Barb, this was truly a fun poem to write. It took a little more time than I thought it would. I need to do more like this!
Fabulous form and imagery! The spacing you use makes the poem so much fun, on top of the images and “plops” of life. What a great inspirational line – and oh, that ending: dreams have feet, too. I really love that.
Thank you Fran, this is one of my favorites!
Jessica,
This is one of my favorite stories! You did such a nice job recreating the feel of this fun story with your spacing and tone.
My Missing Piece
(ode to the Shel Silverstein book, “The Missing Piece”)
Oh, I’m looking for my missing piece
Searching here and there
Trying on new pieces as I go
Never quite the right fit, but I try
Each piece that comes my way
To see if it is the one
That will make me complete
And therefore happy forever
I’m not frustrated at the poor fit
Because I have adventures
Finding it
And so I am happy in the moment
Because I was missing a piece
I traveled a little slow, but that’s okay
I had time to smell the flowers
And talk to slow moving bugs
On and on I traveled
Day after day
Wending my way through life
Looking for my missing piece
Until one day it happened
I found my missing piece
Perfect was the shape
The size, the fit
Hurrah, hurrah
I found my missing piece
I was now complete
And could roll even faster and be happy
Through life, zooming here and there
Much too fast to take time out
To have adventures
Anymore
I was not happy, not having adventures
Not having the time to smell a flower
Or talk to a slow moving bug, and
I put down my missing piece
And I was happy.
Brilliant to choose Shel as the focus …
A good story about human nature. I like the part of “I’m not frustrated at the poor fit
because I have adventures finding it.” I hope to always have that attitude.
Judi!
I adore this line “And talk to slow moving bugs” and how you return to it in the final lines, too.
Sarah
Britt, thank you for hosting us today. What a powerful poem to preserve the feelings and realities of our time in this pandemic. I like the way you used space here with your words.
My favorite picture book as a child was Tibor Gergely’s Great Big Book of Bedtime Stories, but the one story I loved more than any other was A Day in the Jungle by Janette Lowrey. My mother read it to me over and over, and I think back on this story about the fear that rises in a group and how so many of our fears mount unnecessarily. You can read it here: https://youtu.be/J5jrBfsHGA0
No Fear
There was no monster
howling and shrieking with rage
~just a friendly owl.
Kim,
There is so much here in the lesson of reframing. I will hold onto this “just a friendly owl” to assuage my fears of monsters today.
Sarah
Today, Kim, I was also focused on the fears we have that in our minds are bigger than the small (and could even be friendly) events they really are.
I am having a hard time getting over the fears from COVID that I have built up during the last two years. Friends come to visit and I turn my face and stay so far away. Boy, I hope this ends soon.
Such a testimony to how things get blown out of proportion, especially in mob mentality. The mind can run away with things…what a wonderful memory, your mother reading this story to you over and over. I shall hop on that link!
Britt, what a wonderful invitation today! I’m with you in that picture books should be read all the way through high school. In fact, I believe that students should be read to even through college, for there is nothing like hearing a seasoned reader who loves words bringing them to life in all their magnificence (audio books are evidence…). Your poem, your images, strike deep. A haunting beginning for little Mijo … my granddaughter began kindergarten during COVID. I wonder about the indelible traces in years to come, and am ever-thankful for the incredible resilience of children.
As soon as I read your prompt I realized I could be in danger of taking all day or maybe a week to decide exactly which picture book to use – so, I grabbed one from the basket I keep here at home for my granddaughter. I will explore this prompt more…riches await in those depths… thank you 🙂
Inspired by Inky’s Amazing Escape: How a Very Smart Octopus Found His Way Home, by Sy Montgomery (a true story).
The Long-Reaching Tentacle of Adaptability
“Sometimes the keeper gave Inky toys. Inky liked to take apart LEGO blocks, and put them back together. He liked playing with Mr. Potato Head. One time, with his suckers, he pulled off Mr. Potato Head’s eyes and handed them to the starfish in his tank.
Once upon a time, a
Child yearned
To understand why
Others seem such a
Puzzle
Until she learned
She didn’t have to solve them.
(P.S. Y’all should see the illustration of the little starfish wearing Mr. Potato Head’s eyes after Inky gave them to it – utterly cute. I am in awe of octopuses).
This short poem packs an idea of great importance — not everything will be understood, in the moments before us.
Kevin
Fran, I love your acrostic with octopus as your letters. What a wonderful message in this poem – that we don’t have to figure people or animals out. I fell in love with Sy Montgomery’s The Soul of an Octopus and cried and cried and cried. I began following her on Facebook, and she is currently taking care of some baby paints named Bonnard, Manet, and Seurat. Monet drowned but was resurrected, and the stories and pictures she shares of this journey with these baby turtles is fascinating. Thank you for reminding us that we can learn so much from creatures and critters. And especially octopuses (she declares this the correct plurality of octopus in the first few pages – – something I had always wondered about).
Fran, this is meaningful and is so relatable, as adults! I think we would learn so much more if we had a child’s perspective again. Their sense seems to make much more sense than ours. I see how you spelled “Octopus”, but the latter two lines, “Until she learned She didn’t have to solve them.” is such an epiphany to me! Why am I worried about other people when I’m still trying to figure myself out, lol! Thank you for the enlightenment!
Oh, Fran! What a perfect way to conclude the February Open Write — an acrostic and an octopus. I think of the poems here as tentacles reaching across the country– not to be deciphered but just to be.
Sarah
Fran, oddly enough, I just read through a thread about octopus farms and the fight for their rights before finding your poem here. Beyond loving the playful Inky knowledge, I adore the message of your words and how they could impact children (and all readers!). Where would we be if we weren’t trying to solve each other?!?
Fran, I love the use of an acrostic in your poem. Isn’t it wonderful that the puzzle each person is doesn’t have to be or need to be solved. I think I need that picture book.
Kim, I love how you formatted your poem. I haven’t read this book, but I am definitely going to check it out. Your ending line is absolutely delightful as is your poem:)
This really sums it up. As adults we really don’t have to understand every puzzle. However, what a tribute this poem is to curiosity. Love the use of the OCTOPUS spelling to start each line. Curious and smart creatures they are.
Fran — Your poem sure offers up some important advice! And the octopus tale is really cute. “long reaching tentacle of adaptability”… love that. Your granddaughter has a cool grandma. Susie
Wow! What a relief your poem provides. I now have to find the biography of Inky.
First, thank you for the push to explore Epic, Britt. Very valuable. We had something similar in our school last year but they cut the funds, and alas, our librarian. Maybe I can get my students into Epic.
I searched some picture books about music and discovered a Mexican composer I had not heard of before. Thus, a poem.
Kevin
Lean in to listen
what Juan heard:
Close your eyes
tilt your mind
Imagine slanted music
as Esquivel! pushed ahead
explorations
on the Boobam,
with sticks like covered stones
the Theramin,
with fingers like frequencies
the Buzzimba,
with mallets like hammered bones
the Ondioline,
keys on a body, dancing free
And no orchestra ever sounded
like what Esquivel! heard,
inside his musical head
— inspired by the picture book
“Esquivel! Space-Age Sound Artist”
by Susan Wood/Duncan Tonatiuh
I almost wrote around music today, Kevin, with Peter Reynolds’s Playing From the Heart. I’m astounded by what you rendered here in such a short time, with those exotic instruments and phrasing. Your own “fingers like frequencies” on the QWERTY keyboard! Your words – they dance. They beckon others to do so, freely. Glorious.
You can’t go wrong with Peter Reynolds (he and his brother worked for a year with my sixth graders a few years back on a pilot site for a digital book platform, and he visited us, and … he’s as nice as you imagine he might be).
Kevin, you had me from the word listen. I like that there is a lean in that precedes it – – active listening. It’s my one not so little word this year, and oh, the lessons I have learned from that one word focus. I wish that our ears could hear what he heard inside his musical head. What a place to dwell.
Kevin, my school district has Epic! But it is something I’ve never dabbled in myself. Looks like I need to try it out. This line “Close your eyes, tilt your mind”, I was able to visualize it. I think you should incorporate this into daily conversation because I definitely want to try it with my students. They may look at me crazy, but it will definitely tilt their minds. Reminds me of the owl meme with its tilting head. I love the way the words flow, I can hear the music! Thank you for sharing!
Kevin, “keys on a body, dancing free” is a line that lingers for me. Love the image and ideas shared through this triumphant poem. “Inside his musical head”…perhaps shares an insight into Kevin. I’m closing my eyes and tilting my head to hear this wonderful music! Thanks:)
I love that you chose a picture book about music. Also, this beauty doubled as a book rec and conversation piece. I’m going to ask my abuela AND I’m adding it to my Amazon cart.
Thank you sharing today!
OOOoo, Kevin, this is really a dandy. I love the trip into sounds of a Mexican composer. I’d never heard of Esquivil either…nor those instruments. But you piqued my research buttons here, and now I’m on a quest to hear more. Poems that push us…dang, way to go! Thank you! Susie
Thank you for an awesome week of writing! Britt, the feeling of your poem and protecting loved ones is powerful. I felt that and my kids were big. What are the “baby gates” for teens and young adults? I need those. Waaaaah.
I am having fun paging through digital picture books and journaling. What a great way to start a morning. See everyone in March!
Linda, thank you. I hope you had a lovely morning indeed! See you next month 🙂
Britt, your translation of Matt de la Pena’s work connects so wonderfully to your son’s world as the pandemic struck. These words, “Fighting the gate trapping him: weigh heavily with the significance of our world shift, working to layer in a claustrophobic feeling. Wow! My piece this morning stems from Firefly July.
the fireflies of July
blink
greetings
signal
salutations
mark ink
in starry signatures
breathe lightning
like celestial dragons
in pop-flash
midsummer
Jennifer, you have me longing for the magic of summer…and all the secret, enchanting messages it sends, if we will but receive. So beautiful.
“mark ink
in starry signatures …”
Ah. I really like that for flow and evocations of the night sky and dancing fireflies.
Kevin
Jennifer,
ooooh…..celestial dragons! That’s going to be my new adventure word for watching fireflies when I’m sitting on the front porch at nightfall in the summer on the Funny Farm. I’m not watching fireflies – – I’m watching celestial dragons pop-flashing through the forest! I love this rich imagery you create.
Jennifer, these fireflies you speak of, they are full of animation. I’m not an outdoorsy person, but just to sit outside and watch them communicate with one another in this manner would be lovely against the dark night sky outside of the city limits, away from the lights. This line, “Like celestial dragons in pop-flash midsummer” make me see them in a new light, literally! Thank you for sharing!
Jennifer, love the language of your poem. “in starry signatures/breathe lightning” and “in pop-flash/midsummer”! Sweet and gorgeous!
Jennifer, thank you for sharing this. I am so longing for summer!!
Jennifer — Once again, you have a sensory delight here. I loved the “breathe lightning/like celestial dragons” especially… wonderful! Fireflies are truly magical creatures… perfect for poetics! Way to go! Susie