Our Host: Kevin Hodgson
Kevin lives in Western Massachusetts and is a sixth grade teacher. He is a longtime teacher-consultant and leader with the Western Massachusetts Writing Project and the National Writing Project. When not in the classroom, Kevin plays saxophone in a rock and roll band – Duke Rushmore – and writes songs, poems, and stories. He blogs regularly at Kevin’s Meandering Mind.
Inspiration
Ada Limon’s amazing poem for NASA’s Europa Clipper mission – In Praise of Mystery: A Poem For Europa – often lingers in my mind, particularly as its launch into space is on the horizon in October. The sky is full of inspiration as is the mission of discovery. Her poem has me thinking of constellations, in particular, and how people across time, in different geographic places, have so often gazed up at the night sky and sought connections between the pinpoints of light, and told stories and created poems, and shared experiences.
Process
Consider a constellation as a starting point for a poem. Here is a list of the 88 “official” constellations (but feel free to design and name your own, if the spirit moves you). Choose a constellation that interests you and use its shape, its position, its name, and/or its origin story for a poem of “ordinary loves, of small invisible worlds” – as Ada Limon informs us in the final stanza of her poem. Consider using the name of the constellation as the title of your poem. Add coordinate points for discovery, if inspired.
Kevin’s Poem
Vela
SQ2 30°N – 90°S
Your sisters of Heavenly Waters
await your return for an eternity
but solar winds fill your form,
and you remain mystery
Your children are seven,
a brood of starlings telling stories
of the Argo, the cargo of which
has long since been lost into myth
Your sphere of influence
envelopes the empty silence;
the Pencil, the Gum,
the Southern Ring sings inside you
Yet still, you dance and flutter, Vela,
a translucent sail in the night,
reminding us of flight,
a sky compass of remembering
More about Vela: https://www.constellation-guide.com/constellation-list/vela-constellation/
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.
Late to the party. Thank you for the interesting prompt, Scott, and the chance to do some digging into stars and constellations.
Aquarius
Cupbearer for Gods,
Topping up their ambrosia,
I often wonder
Who fills your empty bucket?
Who rubs your tired feet at night?
Aquarius Myth: Aquarius is usually associated with Ganymede, the son of King Tros, in Greek mythology. Ganymede was a beautiful Trojan youth who caught Zeus’ eye, which prompted the god to disguise himself as an eagle (represented by the constellation Aquila) and carry him off to Olympus to serve as cup-bearer to the gods.
I wish I could find Pegasus
If I search the night sky
If I travel the northern hemisphere
Could my mere mortal eyes make
Out the beautiful and regal stars
Springing out of the sky
With fixed wings you guard
Watching, resting from your flight
May I see those stars tonight?
Thank you, Kevin for this trip into the Cosmos. Some of my best memories are with my grandmother on the patio late at night looking at the stars.
Scorpio
From the midst of the Milky Way
He rises lazily, like a summer day.
At first, the head and legs we see
Then bright red Antares.
“Rival of Mars” the midsection bright
Followed by fainter points of light.
The tail curls round like the bowl of a J
Above the horizon almost at play.
Chasing, pursuing hunter Orion
Who stalked the bear, goat and lion.
All of the animals he vowed to kill,
Boasting and bragging of his skill.
Artemis finally had heard enough
And sent for the scorpion, small, but tough
To outwit the hunter and teach him a thing
Scorpio killed Orion with a powerful sting.
Set among galaxies and planets are framed
Thirteen of Scorpio’s stars are named.
He’s easy to find in the southern sky,
His stars stand out–He’s a handsome guy!
The stinger has stars that are paired
“Cat eyes” they call them, an orbit is shared.
Many have planets that orbit them, so
Is there life on them? We may never know.
Jeania,
You really tapped into your knowledge of science today. I learned a lot reading your poem. I thought about choosing scorpio since that’s my astrological sign, but I could not have done it justice. Love the tail hooking like J description, and, of course, you brought some memories of looking at the sky w/ grandma. I miss those days. Fantastic poem.
Kevin–thanks so much for bringing that Ada Limon poem back to my attention! That line, “Still, there are mysteries below our sky” grabbed my attention and sent me away from constellations and into the sea. Here is my poem;
Rewrite the Ocean
Oceans conjure
sunny skies, umbrella drinks, coconuts body oils
and a hint of salt as you lick your upper lip
When the sky drops
and orange and red dances across the horizon
darkness descends
In the black of night
the magic of living chemistry
millions of microscopic creatures
light up the sea
Each crashing wave
a sliver of bioluminescent day
in brilliant greens and turquoises
Night sky rewrites the ocean
slows time with dramatic pauses
as it paints the inky seas
with light
Day is for sunbathers
vacationers
swimmers and beachcombers
Night is for dreamers
igniting wonder
deeper than earth’s vast
waters
I love your contrasting stanzas. My favorite line—“Night sky rewrites the ocean”.
Cetus
The whale
monster of the sea
Andromeda’s near devourer–
I can’t help but think
you are the misunderstood
Other. The ubiquitous white
apparition that drove Ahab
mad. Lurking in the night sky
or stealthily biding time just
under the placid surface of
our vast oceans. Waiting to
pounce.
Turning our eyes skyward
into the endless night,
what do we see?
Comfort in a heavenly grace?
Irrelevance in a vast abyss?
Brotherhood in interstellar species?
Or monsters lying in wait?
Dave, I like how you push us to look at the whale from different perspectives. Your questions at the end leave us with a lot to consider.
CAPRICORNUS
Twinkle, Twinkle
Tiny Star
You may be faint,
But the GOAT you are.
This one made me smile, Donnetta. Love it!
Donnetta,
Way to go big in a tiny poem. Love it!
I love this!
For Nathan
By Mo Daley 4/24/24
My favorite constellation is the one
I’m looking at with you.
You giggle at Orion’s belt.
You ask if Draco is a bad guy.
You want to know what makes Hercules so strong.
And you can never quite see Camelopardis,
even with his spots.
You beg me to show you Jupiter
and tell me that Jupiter has 80 moons
and that Pluto is a dwarf planet
You casually mention there is even
an oval shaped dwarf planet.
I smile broadly
because you are five and a half
and the universe is yours.
Oh, Mo! I love this. I knew this was going to be about a little guy but your last line just pulls it all together in such an authentic and immense way. That focus they have in learning all there is to know about an interest is amazing to experience alongside them. This is a treasure!
“You ask if Draco is a bad guy.” !!!! Harry Potter reference?!?! I love this poem it’s so sweet and reminds me of stargazing with my parents when I was younger.
Love this move here to address “you” and bring the reader into this intimate conversation, maybe lecture/admonishing until we get the the final lines to reveal th “you.” Clever. Fun.
Mo, what a sweet memory you shared with your 5 yr old. Love the enthusiam of this curious child. thanks for this !
Oh, Mo! I wondered who “you” was as I read. Soooo cute! What a joy for you and Nathan to sky gaze together. The way you word those last two lines are magical and wonderful.
Yes! “You casually mention there is even an oval shaped dwarf planet…” I love the brilliance and the confidence of our youngest learners! What a wonderful poem.
Mo— this is great! You had me at “giggle at Orion’s Belt”. The universe should be his!,
I don’t know a lot about dragons,
And I don’t know a lot about stars,
But I remember how you pinpointed
Draco for me in the night sky,
As if he were a specimen you
Pegged to a board.
We were on the island,
Close to the equator,
1,750 miles from the mainland.
I suspect it was upon the
Occasion of a power outage.
We outlined Draco’s spiny back
With our fingers.
I don’t know a lot about dragons still,
And I don’t know a lot about stars,
But stargazing with you, I learned
The that it is darkness
That reveals beauty best.
Katrina, The bookend stanzas of your poem work so beautifully. I was guided to Draco with you and felt the deep connection you had in the last stanza. And the stanza about the island inserts itself, both as the place mark and also as the substance for the outlying words. This was so soothing to read.
Katrina, this is so loving. I can picture the power outage enhancing the night sky for you. This is just lovely.
Katrina, such a rich lesson to be learned in this stargazing adventure. I love the repetition of the first two lines, and that conclusion I’m holding on to tonight.
What a wonderful memory! And I love the circle you made for us in this loving poem.
Katrina, I’m with everyone else here, this poem was delightful, just lovely! “[I]t is darkness / That reveals beauty best.” Thanks for this!
It’s been a few days since I actually wrote a poem, so it seems fitting that I would return to stars!
Eridanus
by Erica J
The Hunter rests his foot
atop the first star of The River
taking a moment before he flees
the coming poisonous Scorpion
who skitters in pursuit across
a blue-black expanse.
The River, though made of stars,
winds like all rivers do
twisting, turning, tumbling
a cascade of heavenly water
that provides cool relief
for The Hare or the Bull
and continues to flow
finally lapping against alien shores
of another life-sustaining world.
Erica, it was worth the wait to have you back! This is a beauty of a poem. I appreciate the visual placement of the Hunter, River, and Scorpion at the onset, but especially the star-winding river. I feel as if I’m learning so much in reading these today. Thank you!
You, my friend, are an amazing poet…brilliant with words. I love this poem.
Such great imagery, Erica. I can see all of your constellations.
Branded Gemini
by the gods,
he has no twin –
no equal.
His portrait is a
lie, telling tales of a
talkative gossip,
outgoing socializer –
but I say
he must be the
other twin:
mirror image
of this
bold butterfly,
while he, cocooned,
draws into himself
even further
to observe
his world,
wondering at it,
ever young.
Golden Gemini,
antithesis of yourself –
star turned inside out,
does anyone see
your brilliance,
understand your wisdom?
Wendy, your poem is so compelling. I love how you illustrate the two Geminis. The subtext invites closer scrutiny and I enjoy this paradox you’ve developed. What a great closing question and the butterfly metaphor is fantastic! Brilliant poem!
Barb, I actually wrote this about my husband, who is the COMPLETE opposite of what Geminis are “supposed” to be. <3
“[H]e must be the / other twin.” lol. Your comment helped inform my reading of your poem, Wendy, let me appreciate it even more! I love the ending: “Golden Gemini, / antithesis of yourself — / star turned inside out, / does anyone see / your brilliance, / understand your wisdom?”
Awesome!
Wendy, that last stanza is so brilliant—antithesis of yourself and star turned inside out are amazing phrases and images. WOW!
Wendy, your poem really gave me pause, in a wonderful way. I know so many Geminis and your descriptions in your lovely poem are striking and true. Thanks
Casseiopia
Vanity isn’t everyone’s cup of tea
I’ve paid the deadly price
the sea has bestowed upon me
I’ve only ever meant to entice
But, now I sit stuck in the sky
Bound or free, you decide
Escape is bleak, Olympus knows I try
In my honor, no tears have been cried
Vanity isn’t as easy as pie
But not once, no never, have I lied.
I like that Cassiopeia is a speaker in your poem. It draws me into the poem right away. The final two lines let me know the speaker doesn’t regret: Andromeda was beautiful–no lies here. Lol. Thank you for writing and sharing!
This is brilliant! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I think my favorite part is the opening line because it made me picture Casseiopia drinking an actual cup of tea as she is relaying this story from her spot in the heavens. It made me think of both the myth and the constellation.
Em, I loved this sonnet! I have to agree with Stacey, that I especially love these lines:
“But, now I sit stuck in the sky
Bound or free, you decide
Escape is bleak, Olympus knows I try “
Beautiful poem!
Big DIpper
Technically an asterism, a noticeable pattern of stars
Not a constellation, rather part of Ursa Major
What one sees is culturally-dependent:
A ladle if American,
A bear if Native-American,
Wagons or chariots if Viking or Roman respectively,
Even a funeral procession according to Arabian lore,
the bowl being the coffin with mourners following behind
Who knew that seven stars
Could be so controversial?
To this pseudo-astronomer it is an easy to spot spoon
Scooping up other stars in its way
And reminding me at times
We all need to be carried.
Heidi, I love how you excuse the Big Dipper and give us permission to be okay being carried,
Scooping up other stars in its way
And reminding me at times
We all need to be carried.
Thanks for reminding it’s okay to need others. And, sometimes, we may be the Big Dipper in the setting.
I had never heard the term “asterism” before — but I have always loved how so many different patterns and shapes can be seen across different cultures even with it being the same stars.
I especially appreciated your ending lines though and your personal connection to the Big Dipper.
The variations of the cultures is so interesting, and you wove them into the theme beautifully. And I love the “easy to spot spoon” scooping up the other stars…
Coma Berenices
I look up into the northern sky
just beyond the newly-bulbed
fluorescent street light, and
just beyond the barn holding
the cattle who ate our backyard
grass today; I look up for Coma \
Berenices, but not because
it’s known as Berenice’s Hair and
not because it’s named after
Queen Berenice II of Egypt
whom I’ve never heard of and
not because it is home to the North
Galactic Pole, which is a fun fact.
No, I look up into the northern sky
because I sometimes pray to Coma
Berenices for her constellation
to give me the sort of trance that
is coma-like, to be in a star state
of deep unconsciousness just until
that street light fuse fizzles;
consciousness is exhausting.
Sarah,
This –“consciousness is exhausting” made me laugh out loud. I totally feel this, especially this week with state testing, crazy adjusted schedules and students losing their minds.
But how do you really feel about being conscious?? I love all the reasons you don’t care about Berenice’s Hair (which I had never heard of. “Consciousness is exhausting”. Best reason ever!
Sarah, you take us on an adventure in this poem. I love the way you open and pull us into all your actions and thoughts. By the end, your need to sleep is clear. I so enjoyed the way you layered this poem weaving in facts and actions and personal reflections. Your voice is so fun in this one and I really enjoyed “that street light fuse fizzles”.
You know quite a bit about this Coma now, Sarah! ))) Yes, “consciousness is exhausting,” and I wish we could turn it off periodically to have some break. I like how you weaved in all the facs about Berenices to drive your point to the final line. I am learning so much about the stars today. Thank you!
Well, Sarah. Sit in the star-state, ’cause you are a star to us, shining so brightly in ways that highlight us as members of this writing community. Starlight, shine bright, you so brightly shine in our night.
Sarah, I adore this stream-of-conscience poem about these fun and fascinating facts that ends with a longing to “be in a star state of deep unconsciousness” because conscious is exhausting! How utterly true! This is a joy to read – I savor every line.
Sarah,
I appreciate the knowledge you’ve created inside the poem. It’s such a unique way to share new concepts. But most of all, the ending says what I needed to hear today. I am exhausted and long for the trance-state of mind.
⭐️
Sarah, your words put us right there “just beyond the barn holding/the cattle who ate our backyard/grass today.” What tranquility there is in the “star state of deep unconsciousness.”
Kevin –Thank you for this prompt. I can’t wait to use this prompt next time I teach my mythology unit. I think my students will really enjoy digging into the constellations.
Woes of a City Girl
They make it sound so easy
to find Ursa,
To discover
the point of entry into stargazing and awe
To find the cup and handle,
The head and neck,
The Great Bear.
But
when darkness is absolute
and illumination mars night
The Great Bear
is obscured in the light
Tammi,
This woe of the city girl brings me home to Chicago for the length of your poem, which I welcome today. Thank you. Indeed, “is obscured in the light” is apt!
Sarah
correction:
darkness is not absolute
So true! Living in the country does make it easier to star gaze. Love this!
Tammi, what a great title to show what your poem will be about. I love your straightforward voice that leads us into the problem of having too much light. Great details too to show us the image of The Great Bear. I agree with your opening note. What a fun way to dig into mythology! I bet your students will love this prompt.
Tammi,
Your poem raises the problem of light pollution in urban areas. It really does steal the joy of stargazing, I really like your use of the infinitive: “to find,” “to discover,” as well as the contrast you set up between the two verses. Well done. I am a big fan of poetry that raises issue awareness as your poem does.
Tammi, the play with reversal of “obscured in the light” is really amazing.
l’m a city kid too and I’m moving soon to a place with no streetlights (yikes!) so this poem really connects with me right now.
Yes, Tammi! Maybe that’s what I’ve never been fascinated with the constellations! I NEVER SEE MUCH thanks to light pollution.
Thank you. 😊
Tammi, I love the truth of your final stanza: “when darkness is not absolute / and illumination mars night / The Great Bear / is obscured in the light.” Thanks for this!
Starstruck
his Canis dogs
snap
at my heels
his jeweled belt
strangles
my weak heart
his starlight charm
snares
I can’t breathe
Barb Edler
24 April 2024
Barb,
I love the way you have used personification to make this poem come alive. This last stanza especially —“his starlight charm/snares/I can’t breathe” — captures the story.
Darn those Canis dogs! Short sweet, and to the point. “I can’t breathe”
Barb,
These three short stanzas snap. The increasing pain leading to “i can’t breathe” is powerful. The present tense verbs make the experience palpable. “jeweled belt” and “starlight gaze” evoke a feeling of trickery and charm that belies the danger. Once again your specific, concise diction and structure create a powerful poem. Love it.
Wow!!!! Barb, you have been delivering some power-packed poetry this month.
The visuals from this poem hint at a scary movie scene.
🔥🔥🔥🔥
Barb, I’m appreciating those second lines in each stanza: snap, strangles, snares. Starstruck, indeed. And I have to agree with Stacey that your poems this month are on fire.
dark sky purpose
how like humans to
bend night sky arc to serve us
Ptolemy’s service
Glenda Funk
4-24-24
Canva image via Pixabay
You are right that we humans love to put ourselves right at the center of the universe, always. Pithy small poem!
Glenda, what a magical title you’ve derived today. I love the Canva image, and your poem’s concise message. Your second line is absolutely mesmerizing. I appreciate the idea that humans are trying to have even the sky serve them. Such a stunning haiku that connects well with Ptolemy’s theory. Thank you!
Glenda,
I am enjoying all your poetry-embedded images this month. I find so attractive the lower case title and poem with only the P in Ptolemy raised. Visually lovely. But the line that bites, that I hold onto here is “bend night sky arc to serve us.” Yes, how like humans.
Sarah
Thanks, Sarah. I’ve created a Canva for every poem I’ve written as part of the Stafford Poetry Challenge. I post them each day on IG and FB stories so they’re only online temporarily. It’s been surprising to see who responds to those stories.
Glenda,
I love how clever your poem. So few words but so much to think about. I initially focused on the idea of man thinking Earth was the center of the universe but also your mention of the night sky arc got me thinking about Ptolemy’s study of light and refraction and colors. Very cool poem!
Gorgeous, Glenda! I am so impressed with your use of the shape for your words.
Glenda, your words “bend night sky arc to serve us” remind me of how geocentric we remain despite all of our learning and technology.
Gosh, I’m learning a lot today about constellations and astronomy. I wish I would have been more interested when I was younger. I’ve just been reading about Ptolemy on Wikipedia. Your poem is gorgeous. I love the arc of words and the image you chose. I wish I understood it more!
Ursa Major
NQ3 90°N – 30°S
Dear Big Dipper,
my hazy grasp of constellations
means heaven knows how to form
a poem of small and ordinary love
leaving me in the dark today
so of course I reached for you
to ground me in understanding
as I always have, since very young
(tell me, did you laugh, that time
I lay upon the driveway drunk
seeking celestial wisdom, trying
to discern his myth-making?)
so many starry nights gone by
backyards, campsites, college
quad, you bore witness to
my heartaches and abundant joy
it’s a mystery who introduced us
so, too, your star magic as bear
I see only a bright flowing scoop
with two stars at the edge
pointing me towards the North Star
showering me with guidance
all praise to your drinking gourd
leading slaves escaping the South
searching the sky for freedom
you are extraordinary
love,
me
Maureen, your direct narrative voice and letter poem is fantastic. I so enjoyed the personal connection in your third stanza and how this connects well with his “drinking gourd”. That your last stanza pivots to its positive traits is extraordinary. Love your tender complimentary close. Delightful poem!
Maureen — I love the way you depict Ursa Major as your life guide. And this stanza:
“all praise to your drinking gourd
leading slaves escaping the South
searching the sky for freedom” — really demonstrates the magnificence of the universe and it is ability to truly free people.
Love this–but especially your aside. I believe, I, too have “lay upon the driveway drunk/
seeking celestial wisdom, trying/to discern his myth-making?). We have all been there!
Maureen,
Whoa! I did not see this coming:
“did you laugh, that time
I lay upon the driveway drunk”
I do love the way this poem follows your journey from youthful fun to wisdom and historical knowledge, so of course I thought about “Follow the Drinking Gourd” as I read the last stanza. This is another excellent poem, my friend.
Maureen, I love all you tell about this sweet constellation. It is the one I chose to add to my poem today too (although it had a minor appearance). I too “see only a bright flowing scoop” I’ve never been able to see the bear. That last stanza is wonderful, as is the last line. I like that you made it into a letter to the Big Dipper.
Hi Kevin,
What an interesting and inviting prompt! I went with what came to me as soon as I started reading more about my zodiac sign’s constellation. I’m not a big zodiac fan nor do I have fascination with the constellations, but what I read was intriguing. Thanks, Kevin. I’ll be back to read and comment later. I wanted to get this posted while I had time.
Scorpius Constellation
Antares, the brightest star
Ten thousand times
More luminous
Than the sun
Imagine I am a star
Ten thousand times
More brilliant
Than I know
©Stacey L. Joy, April 24, 2024
You are that star, Stacey. Constellation Joy.
I love the word “luminous” in any way it is used. Thanks for writing today, Stacey.
Kevin
“Imagine I am a star” – no need to imagine, Stacey! You are, indeed!
Stacey, your wish to be more brilliant is a fantastic wish!
Stacey, I enjoy the way you pivot in the second stanza. Fantastic Canva rendition too. I really enjoyed the idea of imagining oneself as a star. Clever poem!
Stacey,
There is an economy of words here that lets those final two lines shine so bright, brighter than Antares. “More brilliant/Than I know.” I love thinking about the limits of our knowing and am thinking about the ways we can surprise ourselves “ten thousand times” if we’d just imagine (any maybe write a poem).
Peace,
Sarah
Stacy, this made me smile!
Stacey, I love the possibility and empowerment in your second stanza. What a perfect comparison!
Oh, Stacey! Yes, to this! What if we could all believe that about ourselves and each other. I think when we get to heaven, we will spend eternity growing into that ten thousand times more brilliant than we know. This is beautiful.
The Archer
Sagittarius
has two parts
the man with the brain
strong chest with a beating heart
while also the legs and
soul and strength of a runner
Being a November cusp child
generally has me leaning towards
my Scorpio traits, however the
Archer that resides within
helps to balance my fear with optimism
increases my curiosity
uses my intellect that was inherited from
my Archer father.
It assists me with the impatience
that whispers ” hurry, go, drive
fast, eat quickly, rush the students,
rush yourself….”
The Archer inside though, is always looking up and seemingly
aiming toward heaven, the sky, the ancestors
trying to pierce the veil and say to the sky
“All is well with my soul” and the cheerfulness
outweighs the occasionally pessimistic Scorpion.
By Seana Hurd Wright
Seanna
I loved this:
… the ancestors
trying to pierce the veil …
Kevin
The Archer that resides within! I am Sagittarius, as well, and wondering why I didn’t think of this for my focus. Your poem is fabulous. I love so much –
“Archer that resides within
helps to balance my fear with optimism
increases my curiosity”
Thank you for this!
Seana, wonderful poem showing rich insight to Sagittarius. I really liked the personal connection at the end of your second stanza when your impatience whispers. Boy, do I understand those inner voices. Powerful poem!
Seana,
I like that you personalized the constellations and made them both connect to you and your ways.
The scorpio in us is valuable but I agree it does sometimes need to shut up and see the bright side! 🤐
Hi, Kevin. Thanks for the intriguing prompt which made me think. I’ve pondered it all day and finally this came through.
What is a Constellation
What is a constellation
if not a spark of light
that forms a whole,
that takes a shape,
that tells a story,
that lights the world?
What is a constellation if not a reminder
to be a spark of light,
to form a whole,
to take shape,
to tell a story,
to light the world?
Hi Rita
I am enjoying the rhythm of your poem, the way it moves from light to story.
Kevin
How beautiful, these mirror image stanzas – that second, reminding…how much we have to learn from constellations. Beautiful!
I love your take on this. The taking shape of a constellation by a spark of light to form the whole. Yes we must remember that as we light the world.
Rita, I really enjoy the process of your poem and the overall question you develop. I really like the idea that a constellation can be a reminder to be a spark of light, etc. Compelling poem!
Rita–I really love this–the movement from vision to meaning. Beautiful!
How lovely, Rita! From what a constellation is to what it reminds us to be-! A spark to light the world, to tell a story – love that especially – and then to form a whole – there’s a whole lot of thought we humans need to put into that. Your poem itself helps light our way 🙂
I love the call and response sort of echo of your poem, especially the to be, to form, to take, to tell, to light.
Kevin, This is a fascinating prompt that really lends itself to students falling down a rabbit hole of research. I loved hearing Ada read the poem aloud. I love your last line.
I chose a striking line from Ada Limon’s poem: “We are creatures of constant awe”.
Cassiopeia
Boasting unrivaled beauty, we
sit in our lounge chairs that are
made for relaxing; no other creatures
so well-made; we speak of
finding a constant
guide while all God truly asks us for is awe.
Hi Margaret
Your poem is a perfect use of her line and words, sort of like a mirror dipped on its side.
Kevin
“all God truly asks us for is awe” – gorgeous. Gorgeous Ada Limon line to write into.
“all God truly ask us for is awe!” There is so much for me to hold on to with that last line – so hold I will!! Thank you for these needed words
Margaret, mmmmm…love the form here and “finding a constant/guide” Yes, awe is the perfect closing word. Stunning poem and so relatable!
In just a few lines, you captured such a lovely, lasting thought. I’ll remember that all God truly asks us for is awe. Wow! Thanks for this, Margaret.
That was the line that caught me, too, Margaret, for the sheer truth of it. We were made for awe and the be awed…to remind us of our need.
Margaret, the line you chose from Limon’s poem is strikingly profound, and skillfully crafted the poem using it. Like the others, I am drawn to your final statement: “all God truly asks us for is awe.” Just beautiful!
I remember taking the garbage to the end of the driveway on frigid nights. Orion was always standing above the end of my driveway and I would say hi to him every time. I still do, especially when he first returns in the fall. Somehow this poem became a list of what people all over the world call my star walker. I may return one day and craft this in a different way.
Orion
The red and blue supergiants
Of Orion the Hunter
Walk across the crisp winter sky
The Heavenly Shepherd
The God called Sah
Hayk the Founder
Kesil the Fool
Father of Nephilim
Väinämöinen’s Belt
Kaleva’s Sword
Al-jabbar the Giant
Shen the Three
Mriga the Deer
Nataraja, the Cosmic Dancer
Tanra tellué, Sign of the Three
Íjász the Archer
Kaszás the Reaper
Freya’s Distaff
Hapj the Hunter
The Mountain Sheep
Las tres Marias
Nimrod, the Greatest Hunter
Kabibona’kan, the Winter Maker
Tayamnicankhu, the Spine of the Bison
Atsé Ets’óz, First Slender One
Alnitak the Runners
Wisakaychak the Trickster God
These are the names for the visitor Ori
As he walks his way all over the world.
Wow, who would have known there would be all those names for the constellation we know as Orion. I can pick out his belt in the sky. I love in your preface when you said, “Orion was always standing above the end of my driveway and I would say hi to him every time. I still do…” that’s another poem right there.
That’s a whole world of names right there, and so wonderful to read.
Kevin
Kevin–I once had the misfortune of teaching a science class (don’t ask). We hit the astronomy unit, and it won. I declared the stars too far away to matter and moved on to biology. Thank you for the painful memory and a dive down the rabbit hole. maybe I shoudl have stuck with it a little longer…
Your last line was my favorite–
“a sky compass of remembering”–so wide open…
Underdog
Oh, poor little Canis Minor
Don’t you get
tired of always being
second best,
also-ran,
runner-up,
consolation prize winner?
Lesser
Little Dog
Do you sense a pattern here?
You hold the
eighth brightest star.
Only eighth
That should rate higher.
You are in the top 10 percent, after all.
Procyon your Little Dog Star, is bright,
but doesn’t dazzle
like the one that belongs
to your big brother–
the one who always
vacuums up the attention.
Bigger, brighter, BETTER.
The GREATER Dog
Canis MAJOR
that arrogant constellation
the attention hog,
holding Sirius,
the brightest star
(naturally)
in its jaws.
Showing off.
Holding all the superlatives.
Life is not fair for the cosmic underdog.
GJSands
4-24-24
I will quote something from your prose that I connect to: “I declared the stars too far away to matter”! Haha! I don’t think I would be able to teach that either. I took an elementary teaching science class and it was all about the moon and it was equally interesting and confusing. Always, I also love the tone in your poem! It made me LOL.
Oh, Gayle, bravo for this beauty, and that title and last word that wrap it up with a bow. I learned a lot from your poem, and I loved your intro. I taught 7th grade science one year, so I can relate.
Ha
A Dog Dispute, with a soft focus on the little one. (he gets all the leftover star dust)
Kevin
Gayle, what a fun poem. I love your title and tone throughout this one! Your final line is the perfect final line for Canis Minor!
Gayle, life is not fair for any underdog I think, but you made your case for Canis Minor! The line “Do you sense a pattern here?” leads the argument to substantiation. I aldo liked these lines about the big brother: “the one who always / vacuums up the attention.”
Kevin, this prompt sent me down a constellation rabbit hole! I don’t have memories of looking at stars. That’s not something me and my family did and now I wonder how life would be so different if I had. Writings for another day… I started writing about Aquarius – my sign – but wasn’t feeling it. Then I thought of a scene from one of my favorite movies.
Osidius the Emphatic
A constellation
made from the love story of
Clementine & Joel
When he conjured it,
she laughed like nothing he had
ever heard before
A swoop and a cross:
they crossed paths, and he
was swept off his feet
An ill-humored man
saw an odd woman with green
revolution hair
Both firm and fickle
Clem’s emphatic beliefs changed
second by second
Joel’s life would never
be the same ever again
for good or for worse
After they erased
all their memories, he still
thought, “I wish I’d stayed.”
An ask to the sky:
does a spotless mind really
have eternal sunshine?
*poem based on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004).
“An ask to the sky”
I really like that, and imagine the gaze upward, a silent calling.
Kevin
Angie, I love how the ideas for poems come. How you weren’t feeling the Aquarius one, but then this beauty came. You make me want to watch the movie. The title and your last stanza are intriguing. I think “I wish I’d stayed” is so poignant.
Angie, what a fascinating story poem. I love your word choices throughout this. The actions are clear, and I was especially drawn to “I wish I’d stayed.” Your final question is also compelling! Powerful poem! Thanks for sharing this incredible story.
Great storytelling here! I especially love this stanza–it is so telling. “Revolution hair”–wow.
“An ill-humored man
saw an odd woman with green
revolution hair”
Angie, I thoroughly enjoy reading the background story for your poem and the poem itself. I haven’t seen the movie, but now want to watch it.
I love your poem’s ending:
“An ask to the sky:
does a spotless mind really
have eternal sunshine?”
Halley’s Comet – 1986
We tracked you through the night
trying to get away from under the clouds
to see you clearly
away from city lights.
Above the desert sands
we wondered at the sparks
cutting the sky like a sword,
extending from your tail
a burning mass of gasses
surrounding your snowball dirty body.
High, so high above the earth
flying beyond the moon
and travelling faster
than I,
you dissapeared below the horizon.
Where are you going next?
I’ll be in another heaven
when your elliptical orbit swirls
you back to earth.
Thank you, Kevin, for the celestial memories.
Ohh it’s crazy that this won’t happen again for quite a while, sad really. But what a lovely memory to have. I wasn’t born yet!
amazing to have seen something like this: “we wondered at the sparks
cutting the sky like a sword,”
Beautiful!
I love how you captured the moment, Susan, and the longing, too, in the remembering and waiting.
Kevin
Susan, I am always fascinated by Halley’s Comet. I love how you pull us into your journey as you open this poem. Your wonderful word choice truly brings this incredible comet to life. I really enjoyed, “surrounding your snowball dirty body”.
Susan,
Ive thought about Haley’s comet several times this month since we had the eclipse. I remember its appearance in 1986 but always think of Mark Twain’s birth and death happening when the comet made an appearance. Your memory sparked mine. Thank you.
Susan, nice memory! I love the description of “sparks / cutting the sky like a sword” and your sweet “I’ll be in another heaven / when your elliptical orbit swirls / you back to earth.” Just beautiful!
Thank you, Kevin, for the prompt and for sending me off to explore the stardom with its entire habitat. I was afraid I would spend hours looking up and reading about all the constellations, so I had to stop after the dozen of pages into pages—who is counting? ))
I was also so impressed by the first few poems that I read early this morning, including yours that I borrowed a few lines from fellow poets.The first line is from a poem I wrote a couple years ago.
I will come back to respond more to poems later today.
Celestial Muses
Poetry is where stars meet people,
Where poets follow the light
To trace bright specks in the sky
Leading them to new discoveries.
Where Kevin detects Vela,
Filled with solar wind,
Dancing and fluttering
To remind us of a flight.
Where Kim connects
The dots into rabbits,
Running through the
Meadows of heaven.
Where Fran is drawn
To the celestial Dolphin,
The smallest constellation
With the diamond-shaped pattern.
Where I get lost in mysteries
Of Draco, Lacerta, Pegasus,
Lyra, Orion, Corona Borealis,
All having their netted places
In
the
sky,
Where the darkness of the night
Doesn’t mean darkness of the soul
And each star shepherds us
Toward light, hope, peace.
Leilya, I love that you have connected not only stars but entire constellations, poets, this entire group into the universe of poetry – – your pen summoning the star shepherds, shepherding us toward light, hope, peace in the lines of verse that illuminate not only a dark sky, but dark corners of our hearts, souls, and minds to bring light and stardust to the places that need a sprinkle of magic. I wish I could insert a text emoji here that would send stardust confetti all over the screen.
Wonderfully done!
And each star shepherds us
Toward light, hope, peace.
Kevin
Leilya, what a lovely idea for your poem today. I love each stanza as you celebrate what others have written about these “netted places” That last stanza stanza however, is full to overflowing with loveliness! “each star shepherds us / toward light, hope, peace” Oh, if only we would be humble before the majesty of the whole creation.
Wow!
I love the connections you made between us all following stars of hope light and peace in our poetry. Beautiful!
Wow, Leilya, what a marvelous poem. I so enjoyed how you were able to include the early writer’s thoughts into your own poem. Your last two lines are my favorite. Stunning poem!
Poetry is where stars meet people–
and then you connected our writers with the stars! I love this!
Kevin, thank you for this opportunity. I wasn’t sure of what to write and almost passed by today. I’m glad I stayed. The memory of seeing the Southern Cross (Crux…as titled on the list you provided) is something warming me today.
Crux
By Amber Harrison
We ventured back from
Machu Picchu – pizza and chocolate
ice cream with a fresh mint leaf.
Whoever wants to see the Southern Cross can come with me.
I followed.
When would
be the next
or better time
to see the
Southern Cross
than in the
Andes of Peru?
There! See?
The Southern Cross.
Not something I can capture with my phone camera.
A memory to keep tucked close inside – for at that time
I savored the nights that reminded me they were not there to attack.
Amber, The Southern Cross!! Oh, what a spectacular display of beauty. I love that sometimes the phone gets put away, forcing us to simply take in the full view of what a camera cannot capture. That’s how to stargaze.
I’m glad something caught your fancy and the poem that emerged from that skyward thinking, Amber.
Kevin
Amber, Yes, indeed! What “better time to see the Southern Cross than in the Andes of Peru?” Wow! That last line has drawn me into your poem in a deeper way.
Amber, I am glad you stayed and remembered seeing the Southern Cross. This really is “[a] memory to keep tucked close inside.” Thank you for sharing!
Amber, what a mesmerizing poem. I love the way you show your actions in this and the way you end. “I savored the nights….” Wow! Wonderful title, too.
We, too, are made of wonders, of great
and ordinary loves, of small invisible worlds,
of a need to call out through the dark.
~Ada Limón (“In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa”)
Great Bear
We were traveling yesterday at about 550 mph
(Too fast for us to comprehend this 737’s power) but
Are we really? I am reading Edward Hays who
Made this book called Prayers for a Planetary Pilgrim
Of whom I am one, (I hope) she actually
Wonders as she writes this poem. It is
Of interest to remember earth spins on its
Great and sweetly-tilting axis at 1000 mph, journeying
And staying in order around the sun at 66,600 mph
(Ordinary for us, for we hardly recall it.) Our mother also
Loves progressing together with the whole family
Of our solar system at 43,000 mph. That
Small miracle means we go out further into the
Invisible space a million new miles a day, into
Worlds not yet in existence, daily new creation
Of our Divine Mystery. And yet, here we are in
A jet, feeling humanity is mastering science. We
Need to look up and remember,
To live both body and spirit, day and night, to
Call to the creator within, and to live
Out loud in our exterior life. Ursa Major,
Through time, has become mostly
The big dipper. We see just his tail and rump, but
Dark on his head and legs, yet he’s all there.
__________________________________________________
Wow, Kevin, your poem sings with those rhymes and internal rhymes. You are truly a songwriter. I especially love “Saturn Ring sings” and “Argo, the cargo…” and which/myth. It is always fun to read about something I had never considered, like Vela.
That was a journey and a half through all the thoughts in my head this morning. I read Ida Limon and had to use that precious last stanza in a golden shovel and use her form of three line stanzas. Then I was reading this expansive thought book yesterday that reminded me of your prompt. Third, I picked the important Ursa Major as my constellation and couldn’t let him go, so they all just collided into this mess. I’ve trusted Edward Hays for the stats. I love the big dipper, and even though the stars are great out here in the desert, I rarely can make out any other constellations. I learned today that the big dipper phenomenon (part of a bigger constellation) has a name for that, an asterism. I’ve never been able to figure out the whole Ursa Major, even though its the largest northern constellation.
What a great little golden shovel to start your lines of thoughts and emotions Thank you for sharing this. The third stanza, while talking of space is grounding in a way. A reminder of reality and that it’s doing it’s thing with us being attentive to that or not.
Denise, the golden shovel is like magic here. You have composed a shining star of your own. I am always intrigued by the speed of the earth hurling through space, spinning AND revolving, and how the trees stand still. I will never understand some things as long as I live. Where is the jet force wind that should knock us all off the planet and take us into space? Your poem reminds me of this mystery.
I love how you wove her lines and the poetic spirit of the sky into your poem, Denise.
Kevin
Denise, first, I love the lines you chose from Limon’s poem! The Golden Shovel serves you so well here. Just on Tuesday, I mentioned the Earth’s speed around the sun being impressed with it’s speedy race. It’s amazing how relatively low the jet’s speed is. I like your call for us:
“To live both body and spirit, day and night, to
Call to the creator within, and to live
Out loud in our exterior life.”
Denise, you have such a complex poem here. I really love the descriptive details and how you connect spiritual and ideas about humanity within this. I really appreciated the line “Need to look up and remember”. Fantastic thought-provoking poem!
Ara (The Altar)
A small patch of light
against a canvas of black
reminds of stories of the
rise and fall of gods and titans.
A cluster of gas
in the emptiness of space
harkens the changing of times
and new unwavering allegiances.
A shape our eyes form
when looking into space
becomes a tool in the hands
of weavers of legends.
The altar of the skies
marks the solemn union
of Zeus and the gods:
a vow to fight together.
Sacrifice and altars
drew people together
for rejoicing, sacrifice, sorrow:
burnt, grain, peace, trespass…
Awake hours before dawn
I think up to the stars
bringing my own petition and vow
for changing times
and unwavering ties.
I promise and plead
on bended knee
placing it all on my altar.
The celestial altar, Ara,
evokes that holy sacrifice,
the reverence of the heart
for the altars in my life.
Look up at the altar of night
and remember:
Your sacred altars are real.
The future is nigh.
Your third stanza stands out to me with the imagery of a weaver. As someone who is a fiber artist, I can really delve into the work and patience the hands and heart must have to create. Legends! It’s a powerful image especially for me. Thank you for sharing this today.
The repetition of the word altar is affective here as well as the active verbs, remember, evokes, promise, harkens. Wonderful ode to Ara.
Such a powerful prayer to the sky and the voice here is powerful.
Kevin
Wow, MM, that is quite a beautiful “promise and plead” you are giving in this poem. I like the transition in the poem after the ellipse. “The future is nigh” to be sure.
This is a beautiful dedication to Ara, MM! The stanza spoke to me signifies sacrifice and altars as places to connect people:
Sacrifice and altars
drew people together
for rejoicing, sacrifice, sorrow:
burnt, grain, peace, trespass…
Beautifully done!
Kevin, Thank you for this prompt and your beautiful poem about Vela. The last stanza was so powerful “a translucent sail in the night sky…a sky compass of remembering” I love that the sail and compass in those lines especially.
Pleiades
Before advanced electronics
And navigation
Before even paper sailing charts
The seven sisters-Pleiades
Guided sailors
To safety.
Before planting apps
And calendars
Before even Farmer’s Almanac
The seven sisters-Pleiades
Told farmers
When to plant.
Dad and I used to sit
In the cockpit of our sailboat
Stare silently in the sky
And watch the cluster of sisters
Shining their hands of light
Upon us
The sea breeze blew across us
The swells humming their night song
And each star beckoning us.
After my little brother died
A friend gave me a blue
Stained-glass star
And an Inuit proverb,
Perhaps they are not stars in the sky,
but rather openings where our loved ones shine down
To let us know they are happy.
That night I sat in the spa
Pretended it was our old sailboat
And stared into the night sky.
Orion.
The Dippers.
And then the sisters
The closest to earth,
But often faint.
Clustered together
Siblings
There were seven us of us too
If you counted my parents.
One is now amongst them
And I like to think
He’s reaching down
With his hands of star stuff
Adding another pinprick of light
To our
Darkness.
Ohhh!!! Emily, I’m so into wanting to see what a set designer or movie director could do with the line “he’s reaching down / with his hands of star stuff”. That is beautiful!
I like this idea of stars being our loved (and lost) ones shining down their light. I saw something like this idea with the moon, but I like the stars better, because they are uncountable. Thank you.
I felt the sense of loss along with the belief that your little brother is among us in the stars. “With his hands of star stuff” makes me smile with a glimmer of a tear. Lovely poem.
The Dippers.
And then the sisters
This is beautiful, the way it flows and returns back to the Seven.
Kevin
Some people are
disappointed that
the exoplanet,
K2-18b, spotted
by the James Webb
Space Telescope
as a possible
world that has
alien life and
oceans upon
oceans, has
possibly, probably
turned out to
be covered, not
in water, but a
molton surface;
I’m thinking, though,
that we just found
a new destination
planet for when
we invent interstellar
space travel:
now, we have
a planet-wide
Floor Is Lava
game.
___________________________________________________
Thanks for having me “look up” for today’s prompt, Kevin, and for teaching us about Vela!
Not only floor is lava–this also is the perfect place for the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker turning into Darth Vader!
I also think my favorite line of your poem is “possibly, probably” 🙂
Nice last 3 lines. I like the analogy. Your poem reminded me of a couple C.S. Lewis poems I read long ago – You should look up the poems “Prelude to Space” and “Cradlesong”
Ha
Great ending, Scott. Indeed. Quick feet.
Kevin
Keith, you pushed me to do some research in the midst of a busy day. Thank you. You gave me the stars today. I went down the list of constellations and found Sculptor. I read about its stars, planets, and galaxies in awe of what a great world this is. How marvelous to know overhead is a vast dance of billions of stars!
Sculptor’s Studio
Up in the southern sky,
Billions of light years away,
galaxies of stars gather
in the Sculptor’s studio –
scattering of brilliance.
Molecular clouds of gas and dust
built up over the eons,
exquisitely carved
and chiseled by ice and heat,
shrinking then expanding,
blasted to pieces,
exploding into shimmering
stellar clusters –
luminous, gleaming,
cast from an artful hand.
There are so many wonderful verbs in this poem! And I love the idea of the Sculptor’s studio and the line “scattering brillance”. Beautiful!
There are so many beautiful pieces to this poem! I love your connection with the Sculptor’s Studio and your last line “cast from an artful hand”.
Beautiful!
Joanne, this rich imagery brings to mind the Creator at work
blasted to pieces,
exploding into shimmering
stellar clusters –
luminous, gleaming,
cast from an artful hand.
I love that something blasted to pieces can shimmer. It’s explosive.
Your description of the Sculptor is beautiful! I certainly hope you (and everyone else here) have been seeing the Webb telescope images!!!
“Cast from an artful hand.” When you first look at the stars, they seem so random, but as you focus, you can see organization, sculpture by the master.
exquisitely carved
and chiseled by ice and heat
Something about these lines, Joanne …. and then,
an artful hand
Kevin
Glorious, Joanne… cast and hung by that same Artist who knows them all by name…
Yes, Fran – yes, yes!
Keith, writing poetry makes us think metaphorically and often night gets a negative connotations. So, considering the night sky as I drafted the poem today reminded ME that a day is 24 hours.
NIGHT DON’T LAST ALL DAY!
Night need not be a negative time
Yes, there may be criminals and crime
But reverberating church bells also may chime
Though thunderstorms rumble across the sky
Lightening may flitter and flame as it flashes by
Night also sparkles with glorious stars
The dark makes those lights shine brighter
It’s the complimentary contrast
That minimizes the blast
The coming of the sun reminds us dark won’t last.
So, during the night, let’s listen and learn
That night don’t last all day
Alternating dark with light. Ah how we churn
But with knowledge, we can deal with freaking fright.
We can sit in faith awaiting the inevitable light.
I love the rhyming in this poem and the idea of of the darkness not lasting–the stars giving us hope of that! I love the line that you made the title also– “That night don’t last all day”. Wonderful.
Anna,
Not only is your verse on point today, it is a great reminder that the troubles and difficulties of today cannot last forever. The precious promise of release is beautifully woven into the line “dark don’t last all day.” Simple, but lovely and profound.
Anna
This use of alliteration — wonderful:
Lightening may flitter and flame as it flashes by
Kevin
Anna,
I love that turn in the final stanza to say “that night don’t last all day/alternating dark with light”. This is so insightful and has layers of meaning for me that I am holding on to. Indeed, there is hope — no faith– in “awaiting the inevitable light.” I am waiting patiently!
Peace,
Sarah
Vulpecula (The Fox and the Goose)
A faded
some might say
obsolete
scattering of stars
easy to miss,
to overlook,
even ignore.
No myths elgize you.
No lovers snuggle together
while tracing your
silhouette.
No parent
whispers your name
into their child’s ear.
But, still you
burn and blaze.
Never minding
those who won’t
notice.
Shining and spinning
for those who
do.
Thank you for introducing me to this easy to miss constellation! I love the line “no lovers snuggle together while tracing your silhouette” And then the “But still you blaze.” We as humans sometimes feel this way! And we too, should still blaze. Thank you!
I like that you selected one that is easy to miss, without a story, and just kinda there (although, you did inspire me to find where Vulpecula is in the sky and one day whisper about it to my child). The star is beautiful and your poem is beautiful!
I love the last stanza – – the determination and persistence in But still you burn and blaze. It reminds me of Maya Angelou still rising, still rising.
This really stuck with me — the forgotten stars:
No lovers snuggle together
while tracing your
silhouette.
Kevin
Kevin,
This is such an intriguing prompt! I can’t wait to learn a whole lot about the sky! My poem is a smidge more nostalgic, but I hope to write another one more in line with this prompt.
Pinpoints into Heaven
My grandfathers both passed away
before I was born
leaving me sad that I didn’t have any.
When my dad would tuck me in,
we would look out the window next to my bed
and find a star for each of them.
I would tell them about my day,
sharing good and bad things
and tell them that I missed them.
Off in the distance, I could see Baltic Mills
which had a star atop it for Christmas.
I always used that as my relative point of reference.
On cloudy nights or when the Earth was tilted differently,
and I couldn’t see Pop or Tab–or later–Nanny,
sadness, even panic, overtook me.
I wanted that portal. I needed that portal . . .
to feel safe and secure that they could see me
and hear my wishes and dreams and declarations.
Later in life, in 8th grade science,
I found out that at times, I was likely seeing
Ceres . . . part of Sagittarius . . . for Nanny.
Today, thanks to the wonders of technology,
I discovered that Ceres holds appropriate traits . . .
nurturing, supportive, caring . . . just like she was.
Perhaps this is all hogwash–every bit of it.
But I do know that feeling as if my grandparents
could see me from heaven comforted me as a child
And, it carried over into the rest of my life.
Maybe they aren’t looking through stars,
but I know they can see me and hear my prayers.
What comfort that provides.
~Susan Ahlbrand
24 April 2024
A few years back when my own beloved father passed away, a dear friend, who knew of my childhood tradition gave me a framed print that said,
Susan, this is precious and powerful….that portal of importance and comfort. Looking out the window and feeling the connection in the points of light simply can’t be hogwash because it holds power and emotion in our hearts. We believe. You believe, I believe, and there are messages from the Heavens that assure us they are hearing. They know.This is beautiful, and I love your dreams and declarations.
Wow, Susan. This special, spiritual poem touched my heart. I love how you crafted the story of how you were able to use the stars to find comfort after your grandparents passed. Thanks, also for sharing your the touching print, with a supportive message I’ll long remember.
I appreciate poems with different lens, bringing memory and science together.
And the quote by your friend is such a lovely gift.
Kevin
Happy humpity-hump day, Kevin. Channeling Percy Jackson, Rob Rokicki, and notes from your saxophone this morning.
Beautiful. The constellations prompted childhood nights of looking at the sky wondering when my real family would return to Earth bringing me home (I was born a dork and will die a dork….living in my head has been my Achilles heal).
A Boy & His Skies
b.r.crandall
There are other skywalkers.
Luke needs to know this…
…where other wild things are,
those of us who maximize our minds for havoc,
& howl at the skies wearing another wolf suit…
this boy has always connected these dots
(la la la la)
marking the universe’s glow of freckles & moles
with a pointed finger —
He was born a silk worm
with an etch-a-sketch imagination,
the Aquarian dwarfed by galaxies
with wings of an eagle
flying through Jupiter’s sky
in the constellation of swans,
minotaurs, & castles.
Before the Battle of Yavin,
the fireflies taught him
the ways of lunar moths,
helped the eyes to wax green
from starlight after eating
walnuts & hickory leaves.
He now walks with Leguin,
unnaming the Linnean
lineage of language,
systemizing the world on his own.
He is tele-pathetic
able to regurgitate bile from his stomach,
to keep predators away.
wrapping the vulnerable
with grace & hope from persimmon leaves —
two fish swimming in opposite directions:
one towards the fantasy of the skies,
the other more grounded, on earth,
(where his dull mortality lies).
There must be other skywalkers…
it can’t only be him, alone.
Such beautiful language and images. I am going to need to re-visit this a few times, because my mind kept going back to
What a metaphor!
Thanks for challenging me to learn more about the thing you mention.
Bryan, I want to buy a ticket to walk around in your imagination. I know it’s an eclectic place, but it makes so much sense and it’s enchanting to see the wordplay, the lilt of languge, the Leguin…Linnean Lineage of Language…..and to think there are other skywalkers. Walnuts and hickory leaves waxing green eyes. I can see it, and it becomes clear and enigmatic all at once.
Is there any better opening riff than yours, Bryan?
There are other skywalkers
Kevin
Kevin,
Thanks for this magical prompt that brought back a childhood memory.
Your poem captures the sense of wonder and awe of looking at the stars. I especially love these lines:
Grateful for what you led me to remember.
Dad,
I wish
I still had
your army green
flashlight
with the red
cover
that slid
over
the light
so we could
stand in a field
and still see
the stars
and the star maps
in your little book
but I’ll always
recognize Orion
and Pegasus
and Dippers,
Large
and
Small
Thanks for sharing this special memory! I love the detail of the red cover.
Sharon, I love the memory of the flashlight with the red cover. I am present in that moment with the star maps and all. Thank you for sharing this special time
Sharon, the audience you create for this poem, “Dad,” is also an audience we all connect to – stunning – an dI love the “large and small depth” you’ve put forward with today’s words.
Beautiful, Sharon.
What a tender way to remember, and the stars and light shine the story, Sharon.
Kevin
You dad will always be connected to these stars, Sharon – what a lovely childhood memory. I can see you both together in the field, with the red-covered flashlight and the maps.
Orion
Black dog and I slide
among the shadows
walking at night, long
after sundown. An
unoriginal set of stars,
Orion lords above. I know
only a few constellations
by name, have always
preferred to think of them
as an unlabeled spill
of glory. I know there
are patterns, set positions,
but what if they slip,
duck, shimmy over
for a better view
of our human nonsense,
or to hide. But let’s
say you are a hunter
tonight, Orion–please
caress your quiver,
find the right arrow
and take aim. I invite
you to take down
all that’s foul around
me. Leave their
carcasses in the shadows,
sliding into snowmelt,
down gutters, sniffling
curiosities to my
black dog, inhaling
the dripping darkness.
Wow, Mitch!
Fantastic imagery.
i especially love:
and
and
You carry us up to the stars, imagining their powers, and ground us with your
Thanks for bringing us along on your walk of curiousity.
Thanks so much, Sharon! It’s a pretty much nightly walk because I usually can’t get away until the kids are asleep. 🙂
This is so vivid, Mitch. I just asked some of my fellow teachers who teach science to shed some light on celestial things and one instantly referenced his “buddy Orion” and then to read this. And jeesh, I love this:
Thanks, Susan! I was close to a biology minor myself and took astronomy first year in college. I’ve always liked the science departments. 🙂
Black dog and I slide
among the shadows
walking at night …
Man, what an opening, Mitch …
Kevin
Thanks, Kevin, and great prompt!
Kevin, I always love poetry about science so I appreciated today’s inspiration and learning more about my favorite Cassiopeia. Thank you! Your last verse is filled with such light and movement, especially the translucent sail in the night! What an image!
Cassiopeia, with her brilliant W (or is it a M?) formation, has always been admired by me and even more so now that I discovered her story of origin. If I had more time I am certain there would be more verses to this pensee poem. Thanks also goes to a fellow verse writer this week who introduced me to this form earlier this week. I jotted down the 2/4/7/6/8 syllabic form but not the name of the VerseLove poet. Apologies!
Cassiopeia
Vain queen
Bound to your throne
Passing days brushing your hair
I wonder if you mind
spending half the year upside-down
Christine,
This is delightful. I laughed to think of the
Stuck
What great poetic justice!
Thanks for sharing.
I like the myth, but I love the humor in the final line.
Love the wit of vanity and being upside down. Brilliant, Christine.
Perfect! Being so concise really helps those last two lines pop!
The juxtaposition of a vain queen with being upside down made me smile! Thank you for painting this humorous picture.
I wrote about Cassiopeia, too. Love the humor of the last line, too. Syllable counts help me organize words and be more specific about each one I choose.
I had an idea of making a shape poem of her, but didn’t get a chance (yet).
Thanks for reminding me, Christine.
Kevin
Kevin – that would be fun! Hope you share it
LOL…I love the funny part of this, upside-down.
i’m not only five points
i’m endless meanings
representing a stellar performance
walking over fame
astronomical safety in your own bed
with a cloudless ceiling of
glow-in-the-dark replicas
gold for good stickers, opposite of the
red ink stains of subjective suggestions
skill set of drawing in one
touchdown of the pen’s tip
denominations of oppression
wars, galactic popularity
planet, plane doppelgangers
i’m not just an * afterthought
reward or rotten ratings
geometric hex or awards
every wish is upon me
Stefani, Can we make this line a t-shirt and have you and the entourages you create wear it with tremendous pride?
and “every wish is upon me.” Wow! Love how you responded to Kevin’s prompt.
Ooo Stefani – I love what you’ve done here – a perambulation of stars – and the ending – every wish is upon me – so powerful! Thank your for this treat!
Every wish is upon me…..I love the perspective of the star. Those words are not riddle but real….so real! Wishing upon the stars is a life ritual, a pastime of hope and chance. Not merely five points……but endless meanings. Beautiful!
i’m endless meanings
and then
every wish is upon me
Lovely, Stefani, just lovely.
Kevin
Stefani, you give voice to the star so magnificently – every line truly shines. I love them all and these…
astronomical safety in your own bed
with a cloudless ceiling of
glow-in-the-dark replicas
…make me want to weep, because my youngest had exactly this in his bedroom as a child. The stars have been pulled down and the residue remains – time to redo the room – but that whole idea of “astronomical safety in your own bed” is an absolute treasure to me.
So cool…every wish…with all the things we “think” stars are!
Kevin, I have wondered in recent years what the ancients would make of our cell phones with apps that can read the constellations – this is a pastime I enjoy. What a compelling invitation today. I can barely rein in my thoughts enough for a coherent poem…first, thank you for the ethereal wonder of your poem, and especially that gorgeous line “a sky compass for remembering.” Thank you also for sharing Limon’s poem, for I borrowed a line from it: “We are creatures of constant awe.” That word, “awe,” is a life-word for me. You’ll see I also borrowed a phrase from Mary Oliver.
Delphinus
stargazer
noun
We are creatures
of constant awe
stargazers filled
with longing
for the infinite
for belonging
for our place in the
family of things
Consider Delphinus
swimming in the night sky
legendary dolphin-savior
of an ancient poet
why should this myth
speak so to my soul
but that I am
a dreamer of dreams
one of which
found me immersed
in the sea at night
unable to make my way
to shore
but for a dolphin
which came to me
beckoning my arm
around its warm body
my hand to its smooth skin
whereupon it guided me
safely home
Afterward I read of
Delphinus
nicknamed Job’s coffin
it belongs to the family
of constellations
known as the Heavenly Waters
as does Columba, the dove
and only then do I recall
my grandfather, Columbus,
had a brother named Job
who drowned
Delphinus, I find you
swimming in the sky
and consider myself
a stargazer in the
lesser definition:
a fish, immersed in sand,
but for my eyes, looking
upward
a creature of constant awe
continually discovering
my place
in the family of things
all stories inevitably
intersecting and
connecting
as much as the sea
is written in the sky.
Your opening lines set the stage for a poem of dreaming, Fran.
We are creatures
of constant awe
Indeed!
Kevin
Fran, I love your crossover of the stellar and biology weaving through your poem. My family also loves the galatic-type apps. Thank you for sharing today.
Fran,
I love this so much
I’m going to hold on to that beautiful thought today. Thank you.
Wow, Fran, your words are sewn together so perfectly. I was grabbed by:
a fish, immersed in sand,
but for my eyes, looking
upward
Fran, your writing in this poem is absolutely beautiful and powerful!
but that I am
a dreamer of dreams
one of which
found me immersed
in the sea at night
unable to make my way
to shore
This stanza is so touching!
Thank you for this today!
Fran, your connections to the constellation through names and reading always mesmerize me – – I love the Mary O lines
continually discovering
my place
in the family of things
and how rich this is, how fitting that you have a grandfather named Columbus….and St. Patrick. Your names and family stories are a large quilt, hand stitched in love, full of stories and of wonder. And magic.
So beautiful, Fran. I especially loved the last two lines. You’re an amazing poet.
This poem keeps surprising me. I love how you begin with belonging and find your way to your grandfather and his brother. Did you know they would come up in this poem today?
Fran,
I am staring at this line of “and consider myself /a stargazer in the/lesser definition” and wanting to be that creature “of constant awe”. As you close this poem in “is written in the sky,” you remind me to look for it, to look for the intersecting and connecting. So welcome, your lines today!
Peace,
Sarah
WOW! What a sparkly beautiful poem…rich in detail. So, so, pretty. I love how your title is demonstrated over and over in the poem…all the way to the last line.
Kevin, I had not read this poem by Ada Limon before – it’s magical! Thank you for sharing such an inspiring prompt. I love all the sailing imagery you’ve offered. I began writing in my head as soon as I read the prompt title so this landed in a roundabout way (though there’s a constellation connection as Corona Borealis (NQ3 90ºN-50ºS) and the Big Dipper are part of Ursa Major and the Big Dipper Firefly is facing major decline – who knew that was the name of a firefly?)
Atmospheric Fireflies
they say fireflies are disappearing
an untwinkling from existence
and so goes the atmosphere
they used to light the sky
across midnight ’til just before dawn
a milky way of movement
a northern crown to guide us by
our own polar star
we have sacrificed our compass
blinking out in the outblinking
of artificial lights
we no longer find one another
the firegazing of starflies
within dark sky spaces
has gone the way of the firefly
This is such an evocative title: Atmospheric Fireflies, and then your poem meets the moment of magic, Jennifer
Kevin
Jennifer, your poem exudes magic, as Kevin noticed. So many beautiful lines here! Your line spacing makes me pause and take in the meaning and the wonder of words. Love “a milky way of movement.”
Jennifer, I am feeling a sadness from your lines, “they say fireflies are disappearing” in thinking about the stars and the insects. This concept of “outblinking” is also getting me to ponder. Thank you for sharing.
Jennifer – This is a heartbreaking lament… I feel the loss, and especially these last couple night if the meteor shower that I could not see because of the “outblinking” of our ambient night light. Alas. Your phrasings are beautiful. The fireflies and the compass images are glorious. I love your poem. Susie
The connection to fireflies is brilliant – no pun intended – but maybe it was. Missing both night skies and fireflies is a travesty and one that leaves me sad and disheartened. Love your verse!
Jennifer, I love the eco-activism in this well-thought out verse.
Get this poem into the hands of more outlets. What a line!
Jennifer,
You really pull us through a magical poem. I can’t even stomach the thought of
Jennifer, with a poet’s heart, you crafted calls forth sadness for the natural happenings that are becoming obsolete. Sad, but very well written.
Such breathtaking imagery and wordplay, Jennifer: untwinkling, firegazing, starflies, outblinking…and why is it that the word “sacrificed” feels like a poem all in itself?? As much as the phrasing awes me with its ethereal sparkle, I grieve. I want the fireflies to stay. I want us to find one another again…and our way, through the dark spaces. So goes the atmosphere…heaven help us. So profound.
Thank you, Kevin for a wonderful morning prompt. I wish I had this prompt when my OLW for the year was star. I still love to find star poetry. The language in your poem is lush and ethereal….”mysteries, stories, lost, dance, flutter, flight.” It’s a poem one can fall into.
I’m absorbed in creating earth science watershed review stations for 6th grade this morning. I need to leave early for work. I loved going through the information for the constellation Leo. There is so much pretty language in the science.
Here are some ‘found haiku’ from my reading.
arrows, claws, and cloak
could not defeat the lion
fearsome in the sky
another bright star
more luminous than the sun
on the lion’s hip
stars of the lion
runaway to the nearby
blue supergiant
These are lovely, Linda, and there is some kind of magic about finding poems among the stars.
Kevin
Linda, I love how you you are tying in “found” poem to a specific form, did this make the form easier or more challenging? Thank you for sharing.
I agree Linda – there is so much pretty language in the science. Reading about the constellations the words almost popped off the page and into a poem! Your words make Leo come alive! Love this series of haikus!
Linda, I love the fearsome lion in the sky, unbeatable and off to the blue supergiant. The language of science is our friend – – yours especially today, in these Haiku verses that are rich in imagery. I see a shining lion, and he’s roaring the night wind.
Linda, there really is os much pretty language in science – you’ve showcased some of it so brilliantly here. I thought of you when I first read the prompt – I remember your OLW!
Kevin, what a fun way to learn about the night sky and all the heavenly cosmic art! thank you for hosting us today and investing in us as writers. My favorite line is
the Southern Ring sings inside you
and so I carry this tune into Georgia today. I saw a movie that prompted my poem this morning – Before Sunrise from the 1990s with Ethan Hawke.
Connecting the Dots (Lepus the Hare)
on the screen
a couple hops
off a train
in Vienna for
an evening together
strangers taking
a chance on love
~before sunrise~
a palm reader
ambles over in
her flowing dress
and head wrap to
read their destinies
when the stars exploded
billions of years ago
they formed everything
that is this world
everything we know
is stardust, so
don’t forget:
you are stardust…..
you are both stars
then she walks off
into the night
where they go, too,
to do more-than-
stranger-things
before he recites
an Auden poem
the years shall
run like rabbits...
and so I
connect the
dots….{Lepus!}
because
As I Walked Out
One Evening
I saw them
yes, I saw
those rabbits
running like years
through the
meadows of heaven
through this
grassland galaxy
through this
Royal Fortress Meadow
How wonderfully romantic…I am in love with, “everything we know
is stardust, so
don’t forget:
you are stardust…..
you are both stars”
Years running like rabbits? Oh, yes…yes.
... I saw
those rabbits
running like years
through the
meadows of heaven …
Wow. Your poem is a sort of dance, Kim
Kevi
You are really connecting the dots, Kum: the movie, the song, and your Royal Fortress Meadow. Such a smooth flow! Love the final stanza that brings everything home.
Kim, I appreciate how you are pulling inspiration from so many various media and experiences. My favorite line is “grassland galaxy” as this pulls many of your concepts together succinctly. Thank you for sharing today.
Kim, I love this..read it three times then looked to see who the author was. Boom….Kim. This stanza hooked me the most,
Ah, the stars. The beauty of what is written in the unknown.
Kim,
Jeesh, you always amaze me, but today is next level . . . you pull ideas from multiple sources and make this poem so unified and powerful!
Kim, I came THIS.CLOSE. to writing about being made of stardust today-! I nixxed it at the last…but am ever so glad you did sprinkle it (so beautifully) into your poem. Lepus the Hare, how perfect…rabbits running like years, oh, so fast indeed, through the meadows of heaven and of the Royal Fortress – this could note be more poignant and fitting. The weaving of the songs/quotes enhances the enchantment – all in all, exponentially Kim!!
Oh, Kim, or should I say, Royal Fortress Meadow, I hope you will create a collection of your name meaning poems.
I love this sweet lyrical poem. And these lines, some of my favorites: