Faced with a long drive back home, we decided to detour and find some mini adventures on our way. It makes for a long day…but was filled with small surprises that provided the perfect fodder for some Haiku.
Wildflowers
Transitory sprites
conjuring springtime dreamscapes
also known as weeds
®Douillard
Wetland Walk
Basking in the sun
pulling me to look closely
turtle or a rock?
®Douillard
Geese
The gaggle gathers
lunch counter or wetland spa?
pause in reflection
®Douillard
Yellow: 10 Ways
fingers of light
reaching across galaxies
to warm and bronze
shoulders and noses
squeezed, zested, sliced
juice used a million ways
stomping and stirring
salty pools
with canary-yellow feet
sunshine on bread
melty, salty
tastes like a hug
middle light
triangular sign
pay attention: time for caution!
Crack!
out pops a downy feathered
chick
blossoming, towering
sprinkling the yellow-magic
of hope
over the world
kernels burst
flavoring the air
with scents
of summer
dressed in yellow and black
inviting new blossoms
to dance
in the silky springtime breezes
the blank page with
Traditional #2
searching and seeking
until I uncover
the secret of where
all the yellow poems hide
®Douillard
On the days when I am in the classroom, I am always paying attention to the potential mathematical patterns the date provides. And I have to admit, I’m sad that this great date fell on a Saturday (and during our spring break to boot!). Here’s my rough attempt at celebrating this rare mathematical date pattern in verse.
April 3, 2021
4, 3, 2, 1…blast off!
Numbers descending
stepping down
decreasing
by one
A date
marking time
beating out a rhythm
marching down the street
Eventually circling
holding hands
standing shoulder to shoulder
bow and begin
a dance of numbers
4, 3, 2, 1
®Douillard
If you know the state of California, you’re aware it is a long state connected by a freeway affectionately called The 5. After hours and hours in the car yesterday, I decided to write a poem…using only one syllable words…in hopes of capturing that long drive up that never-ending ribbon of road. (With a few photos for visual impact–all taken from the passenger side car window.)
Even with the best of intentions, my first poem for the first of 30 days of National Poetry Month is posted on day 2! Blame the road trip I set off on yesterday and the many other distractions that accompanied that start. But, alas, here is the poem…and expect another later today to “catch up”.
The temperature is rising
infecting us all
even in masks
We’re itching
to be outdoors
running
playing
lazing in the sun
Like cats we look for
that puddle of light
that will evaporate
the cold and dark
of winter’s shadow
And create
a tunnel of green
straight into
Summer!
®Douillard
On the last day on National Poetry Month, on Poem in Your Pocket Day, I found myself without inspiration for poetry writing. So like all good writers, I picked up my phone to look for some inspiration. I started generally on Twitter where I found myself going down the rabbit hole of pandemic politics–lots of uproar about beaches and closures in our state, with the governor “punishing” Orange County for bad quarantine beach behavior during the heat wave last weekend. But I digress (you can see…I did go down that rabbit hole…)
And then I came across my friend Kevin’s blog where I found his pocket sized poem for today about watching. And then I remembered the rabbit–not the rabbit hole–from this morning…and I used Kevin’s words to find some of my own. (Thanks Kevin!)
Pandemic Morning Walk and Watch
Watching the wild rabbit on the black road
Watching the neighborhood walkers
Watching long-eyed snails crawl across almost dry sidewalks
Trying not to squish them
Watching misty dew drops slide down shrubs
Across crosshatched cobwebs
And down my unnecessary sunglasses into my eyes
Watching you as I cross the street
And the rabbit runs.
®Douillard
Our school librarian posted a book spine poetry challenge for my students today. With the poem-a-day challenge, students have done many different kinds of poetry, but I hadn’t introduced book spine poetry–so this was pretty perfect. And I was inspired to create my own book spine poem as well.
I’m not sure if it breaks the rules to add a title…but I did it anyway. Here is my book spine poem:
Write It
Quiet
minds made for stories
open a world of possible
between the world and me
rhythm and resistance
schooltalk
the power of habit
writing and teaching to change the world
What poem will your book spines write?
Our mentor text for today was Karla Kuskin’s Write About a Radish, a fun reminder that there are topics that are overused and sometimes we need to think about the mundane, the ordinary, the run of the mill when we go looking for poems.
My students had fun with this. They wrote about grubs, paper, kumquats, an ant, a carrot and more. I am reminded that it really does take daily practice and a commitment to trying things that feel hard or uncomfortable to get better at whatever skill you are working on. I can see my students’ daily improvements, moments of breakthrough, troughs of lack of inspiration. One of the benefits of the this remote learning environment is that I am writing feedback on the poems that are submitted each day–and I see the take up of that feedback in subsequent poems.
My own poems are lacking that kind of feedback. But lucky for me, I am also learning from my students. As I study their poems, I learn about my own. When I see their fresh, unexpected moves, I imagine what those might look like in my own poetry. And like them, the daily practice matters.
So my own poem, inspired by Karla Kuskin’s Write About a Radish.
Write About Hands
Write about hands
too many people write about diamonds.
The shiny gold setting
the faceted cuts
that reflect the sun
creating a sky full of stars
in the moonless sky.
These hands
with unrefined nails
and sun beaten skin
wear those diamonds,
a symbol of a love
that endures.
®Douillard
Last year in April I experimented with paint chip poetry with my students. It was so much fun to rifle through the paint chips, picking them at random and then incorporating them into poems. I noticed right away how this color language elevated their poems, adding a layer of sophistication to their already beautiful ideas.
And in this time of remote learning I wanted to figure out a way to bring a version of paint chip poetry to my students. Some google searches uncovered a thesaurus of color by a blogger on the web. This color thesaurus became our new version of paint chip poetry.
Having played with poetry dice a couple of weeks ago, students had already experimented with incorporating words into their ideas and poetry from outside sources. So today’s assignment to pick some color words to use when crafting their color-focused poems wasn’t a stretch. And there were some wonderful results!
K played with yellow words:
R took us out in space:
SPACE
AT THE CENTER
MILLIONS OF TINY COLORS
LIKE SWIRLING BRIGHT BUTTER
IN A MIXING BOWL, FUCHSIA,
MAGENTA, GARNET, SCARLET,
THE COLORS OF THE GALAXY!!
WHITE FLECKS, TOO, OF ROSES AND SNOW,
ORANGE OF SUN, BLUE OF THE DEEPEST SEA.
AND THEN THERE’S LIGHT.
NOT THE WHITE LIGHT OF THE STARS, BUT
THE LIGHT OF THE CLEAR BLUE SKY, WHERE
BIRDS DRIFT AND SOAR. THE BLUE OF ICE
DELICATE AS LIFE.
And E started with canvas and ended up with autumn’s leaves:
Canvas.
An ivory surface,
A beautiful sheet.
Changing over time,
But sticking to an overall beat.
Crimson red,
As hot as it is magnificent.
Apricot orange,
Chaotic as fire.
Butterscotch yellow,
Glowing like the sun.
Lime green,
Leaving a trail of bitterness.
Lilac blue,
Spreading seeds across the page.
Night sky purple,
Dark but not dreary.
All these colors,
Put into one piece of paper,
One pile of Autumn leaves.
For my own poem, I found inspiration in my neighbor’s lawn as I walked down the street to check the mail.
Flamingos
They arrived in a flamboyance*
of blush
every color of pink
from the palest of morning sunrise skies
to the mortification
of heat that creeps up the neck
to blaze in your cheeks.
Planting themselves
on the lawn
chewing bubblegum
en pointe in ballet slippers
a display of extravagant proportion.
A quarantine gift for a neighbor
A delight for the neighborhood.
®Douillard
*a group of flamingos
Pick some interesting color words and try your hand at writing some poetry under the influence of color today!
These last couple of days have felt like summer. Temps rising into the high 80s, cloudless deep blue skies, lengthening days and so much time at home–it’s hard to believe we are still in April. And we came home from the grocery store with an artichoke yesterday; a huge, round, green globe that ended up as part of our dinner tonight…and the subject of today’s poem.
In the Artichoke Scraps…
In the purple papery leaves
summer emerges
and I remember racing through the sprinklers
screaming as the cold droplets landed on warm skin
laughing with my sister
as we ran back and forth across the lawn
In the salty butter
I taste home
dinner like clockwork at 5
our family of 4 gathered around the dinner table
to eat and argue
mediated by dad and the dictionary
In the sharp spines
a fortress is present
circle the wagons
with our hearts, soft and tender, at the center
guarded carefully
closing tightly when necessary
In the leaves, the curves, the smells, and the taste
of an artichoke
lives
my childhood
home
comfort
and love
all wrapped up in a thistle
®Douillard
Thinking Through My Lens 