Scott’s prompt to write a poem about a minor ailment made finding a subject easy, but figuring out how to make a poem of it was much harder today. And as often happens, I had to find a structure to wrangle my words. I came back to old friend etheree, pushing my thinking into 10 lines.
For today’s poetry inspiration in our first grade classroom, I pulled out Georgia Heard and Rebecca Kai Dotlich’s Welcome to the Wonder House and we read a poem or two from each “room.” Students loved the rooms–and were already thinking about rooms that weren’t represented in the book. And then we all wrote. They were to choose a “room” that they felt connected to (I did say yes to those who wanted to combine rooms) and then pick the kind of poem they wanted to write. I noticed students writing short poems (we’ve written Hay(na)ku, Haiku, and 16 word poems in the last week or so), question poems, and poems of their own design. I had a student telling me she decided not to use any capital letters of punctuation like William Carlos Williams did in The Red Wheelbarrow. I can feel all the ways that poetry has seeped into their bones and their souls this year. It was a hectic day today with too many things pulling my at my attention, so I only really got a glimpse at what got written–we’ll get back to these pieces on Monday.
I decided to try a poem from the room of ordinary things–and wrote about dandelions. I guess it could also be located in the room of nature or maybe even the room of gardens. But I like that dandelions are everywhere–even where they are not wanted! I wrote several different kinds of poems, but decided on the Haiku to share today.
Spring is a time for bees and buds and blossoms. It seems that everything is in motion, including my students. We’ve passed the time of settled in and are now in the time of change. Plants are sprouting in all the shades of green and my students are sprouting in all the volumes of loud. There is so much they need to say: to each other, to me, to anyone passing by.
Roly polies have become their latest obsession. Those tiny pill bugs are everywhere. And my students are intent on “saving” them (or squishing them, depending on the student). What was once a line of first graders walking to class has now become a mob of children on hands and knees scooping up these little curled crustaceans to protect them from the feet of their peers. Except instead of just moving them to a safer place than the hallway sidewalk, these small creatures often find themselves tucked into pockets and backpacks, or being “petted” by a soft 7-year-old finger on its ribbed back.
In science they are studying birds: their beaks, their feet, their wings. And considering how those parts work together to help the birds survive. In class we took balls of clay, used the meaty part of the side of our hands to flatten and shape them, and crafted our own ceramic birds. A mistake on my part means that the feet they molded will not be attached…but that is another story.
In spring students show off. They strut their stuff. Confidence levels are spiking. They are testing the limits, the boundaries, the rules, their own abilities. It’s the most wonderful time of the year and the hardest season for teaching. But sunshine helps, clay helps, and carefully constructed classroom community prevails…even in spring.
There is a certain kind of overwhelm that enters the classroom when the number of remaining school days drops below 30. Student learning skyrockets with confidence at its maximum–these should be the glory days. But at the same time, spring brings forth the “too big for your britches” behaviors that make teaching hard. Maybe it’s a defense students develop to inoculate themselves against the pain of leaving this classroom that has become oh-so-comfortable.
While Barbara over at Verselove offered an invitation to write a things to do poem, I’m not sure my poem turned out so things to do-ish. Luckily, likes moms and childbirth, teachers mostly forget the pain and remember the joys that come from teaching. As I ended today’s teaching day by having students share their 16-word poems inspired by William Carlos Williams, some of the earlier frustrations with less than stellar classroom behaviors were erased. I’m thinking maybe I should call this a Things I’ve Learned poem.
Sometimes Ocean roars in like a dragon, frothing and swirling, energy radiating from every salty drop, tossing boats, leveling cliffs, chasing swimmers to shore. Every scale and feather ripples in this self-induced storm, power is the name of the game. Other days Ocean is a mirror, calmly reflecting the world around, inviting bare feet, sand castle builders, and sunset seekers. Still waters run deep and Ocean is seldom still and often deep. Beneath the surface lies worlds unlike those we know on dry land. Curiosities are common. Ocean makes a home for the octopus who is a master of disguise, changing shape and color at will. Pelican skims the surf above, joined by its squadron overseeing the shoreline, pouches poised for a quick snack. Ocean reminds us that water is everything: power and life and home. Whether dragon or mirror, to preserve life on our planet Ocean requires our respect and protection. Now is our time to roar.
Rolled with an earthquake on a Monday morning in my classroom while my students were out at their music class. It was not THE big one, but it was a big one.
Realized I made a BIG mistake in preparing our class ceramics project. Now our birds with feet will be footless…or footloose as they fly freely with no visible feet. Determined to turn this mishap into a beautiful oops…with a surprise twist (yet to be announced).
Finished reading a book (a memoir). Started reading two books, one a self-indulgent crime novel that came up on my online library holds, the other a nonfiction book about leadership that arrived on my doorstep last week (a book I didn’t order–but I do know who did).
Closed the rings on my fitness app every day last week, every day in April so far, every day for the year 2025 (and 2024 and 2023…) Has this become an obsession?
Wrote a poem each day, posted a poem each day, taught children about poetry each day, found myself immersed in poetry each day, swam in the poetry (mostly avoided treading water), breathing in the words, stroking through the rhythms, floating in the words of others, splashing in a variety of forms, propelling myself to experiment, dive deeply, hold my breath and hope I don’t drown. And when I feel like I’m drowning, I find myself grabbing for a life preserver: another poem.
Some days a prompt is meant to be reinterpreted. That was today for me. Susan at Verselove offered a prompt called Lingering Lines that was born of lines from plays, movies, music… Those lines that linger in your mind and replay themselves without you consciously pushing replay.
But for some reason, lingering lines became literal lines for me today. I spent some time at the Safari Park and it was the long lines of bamboo reaching for the sunlight that lingered in my mind…and inspired today’s poem.
Today Jordan at Verselove invited us to write food poems. As soon as I read that invitation my mind took a trip back in time to those occasional Sundays spent with my dad’s Uncle Bob (maybe my dad’s Great Uncle Bob) in his tiny trailer.
What happens when a list of random words become the inspiration for poetry? Today’s Verselove prompt was to generate some random words and use them to write a poem.
I googled words for purple and got an endless list of words that definitely seemed random–and not so purple. I picked out 10–somewhat randomly–and let my pen and my words create the path.
Here are the words: iridescent, lilac, exotic, polka dot, legend, zebra, wears, parchment, eye shadow, blackberry
A couple of weeks ago I learned a new poetry form. Related to Haiku (3 lines, 17 syllables), Hai(na)ku consists of three lines, the first line with one word, the second with two words, and the third line with three words–no syllable counting needed. This Filipino format was introduced to me by Barb who blogs over at Sitting Behind the Eight Ball. She provides more detail about this interesting form on her blog.
Since National Poetry Month and Earth Day overlap, the first graders in my class spend time thinking about and learning how to help the Earth in addition to writing poetry during the month of April (and other times throughout the year as well). They write about plants and animals and the Earth itself. For the last few years, I have had them write 6 Words for the Environmentbased on the idea of a 6 word story. But this week, after brainstorming a number of 6 word pieces about the Earth, I introduced the Hay(na)ku. We re-looked at our 6 word drafts and re-worked them to craft a Hay(na)ku. (The artwork was inspired by the book we read, Our Planet! There’s No Place Like Earth by Stacy McAnulty and illustrated by David Litchfield)
It’s important to me that the young learners in my classroom understand that their voices matter and that there is power in their words. These first graders have opportunities to explore different ways to use writing and are just beginning to experiment with format. Poetry is perfect to encourage language play!
As I think about my students and my own writing, why not try to express those ideas in a Hay(na)ku myself? Here goes:
It might just be the right time for you to play around with form–maybe even try a Hay(na)ku for yourself! What 6 words might you use to express your care and/or concern for our Earth? I know my students would love to know!
Thinking Through My Lens 