Poetry Day 8
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With a forecast of nonstop rain for today, our plan was to find ways to be out exploring…and also to not spend our entire day drenched to the skin. We did pretty well, starting our day with some time in Seaside’s tiny aquarium. I have mixed feelings about places like aquariums and zoos, but I also know that the opportunity to see and learn about animals helps to build empathy and ultimately, appreciation and a sense of protectiveness for wildlife and nature.
I was drawn to the octopus. I read The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery a couple of years ago,, an account of the author’s experience with an octopus at an aquarium. These strong and nimble creatures are purported to be smart, the problem solvers of the sea. I was lucky enough to be in front of the tank when the octopus began moving this morning. I was fascinated as I watched its suction-cupped arms navigate the glass pane of the aquarium wall.
Great Pacific Octopus
master of disguise
color changer
hide out finder
squeezing into the tightest space
Armed times eight
thousands of suckers in place
climber, acrobat, magician
practicing sleight of suction
on rocks and clear glass windows
showing agility and strength
only possible from this
shell-less mollusk
Giant Pacific Octopus
Douillard 2018
Here’s a student poem that seems to capture my mood for today:
The Peace of Wild Things
When wonder for the world
grows in me
and I wake in the shining rays of the sun,
I drag myself out of bed and to the water’s edge
where I feel the peace of wild things.
Oliver
And another that is more reflective of a southern CA perspective on rain:
Wait for Wet
I wait for wet.
I wait for the gentle pitter-patter of wet on my green umbrella that waits on a dusty hook in the closet.
I wait for the sound of rubber boots splashing and stomping through wet, sprouting a tail of murky water in wet’s wake.
So much depends on a light sprinkle of wet that tumbles through the clouds and dusts my eager face.
Sadie
For tomorrow, I am waiting for dry…and off from the seashore to explore mountains! And of course, continue my April poem-a-day adventure.
Poetry on Day 7
My day started early today, with a flight at the crack of dawn. On the first official day of spring break I was thinking about my students and wondering if they would continue their daily poetry without being at school. Imagine my delight when I found a couple of poems in my inbox this morning!
Spring’s Signals
Showers of love, chicks hatching, flowers blooming
You know that spring’s warm scented air will come soon
To bundle you up
and say you’re safe here
Photo and poem by Amelia
(Photo and poem by Alyson)
My own poetry was inspired by some pretty unfamiliar weather for me… I left mild San Diego to arrive in northern Oregon, experiencing a nonstop rainstorm, complete with howling winds. It hasn’t dampened our spirits (although my raincoat is pretty darn soggy!). After being buffeted by wind and rain as we explored coastal Seaside, I found inspiration in the idea of music…and of course, a seagull!
A Stormy Symphony
She blows, her instrument tuned
to the pitch of the sea
sounding a somber melody
crescendoing to a dramatic roar.
A steady drip drop
creates the back beat in syncopated rhythm.
Birds dance, pushing their bodies
against the currents, spinning in the updrafts.
A lone seagull listens
humming along
to the stormy symphony.
Douillard 2018
Pollinate the Future
I love Fridays. There is something wonderful about a teaching day that is flexible, full, and ready for whatever learning opportunity is needed. My plan book was blank today, but I knew just what learning would support the learners in our class today. We didn’t squander a single minute…and left inspired and ready…for more learning, for spring break, and for our 30-day poetry challenge!
My time in the garden yesterday stayed with me today. I was thinking about bees and the work they do. As I wrote today (waiting for a table to be ready for us for dinner), I realized that teachers are a lot like bees. The work we do is often perceived as unremarkable, the day in day out attending to a series of seemingly small skills that add up to fueling all of the professions in our country. Like bees and pollination, teaching is work that matters in so many ways but seems so inconsequential in its dailiness. As teachers, we pollinate the future, growing the innovators, the designers, the architects, the scientists, the work force of the future. I’ve learned to appreciate bees, and I know that teachers are appreciated in many circles, but the teaching profession tends to be under appreciated and misunderstood in our larger society. Enough from my soapbox, here’s today’s poem:
Bees
Cellophane wings
with invisible speed
buzz buzz
carry fuzzy pollinators
from bloom to bloom
buzz buzz
doing unremarkable work
that matters
to all of us
buzz buzz
pollinating the future
Douillard 2018
I can feel the pollination of poetry taking hold in the classroom. Students came in to school this morning ready to share poems they had worked on at home overnight. Here’s a little collection to enjoy!
Trees
Tall, lanky branches
stretch out
like fireworks,
leaves explode into different colors
throughout seasons,
roots grapple to find water in the dry soil.
After getting old
the bark shreds off,
like a snake shedding its skin.
The branches that used to be fireworks
slowly snap, then fall
and break into pieces of branch and twig.
Koa
The Giant
The giant soars above me
towering over the town
the giant’s arms glide against the wind
over everything in the park
the calm surrounds me
as the roots dig deeper into the ground.
silently watching everything
Photo and poem by Avi
And something playful…
A Hula Hoop
It twirls like never before
it dances like a ballerina
it spins like a dreidelWhen it falls it gets back up
Photo and poem by Siena
It’s officially spring break…I can’t wait to see how the poetry momentum sustains when we are away from school!
Garden Poetry
My students are lucky. They spend a half an hour in our school garden every week, growing vegetables, learning about bugs, noticing what grows well and what struggles, and tasting! I often don’t get to go out with them, but today because of a shift in my schedule due to conferences, I joined them…and turned it into an opportunity for poetry writing!
I was drawn to the artichokes, purple and green knots growing strong and tall. When my students sat down to write, so did I.
Artichokes
Globes
like dinosaur paws
clenched
holding a tender heart inside
tiny swords
protect that meaty center
purplish green
beckons…attracting me
and spotted ladybugs
When will they be ripe?
Douillard 2018
I know that photographs and visual images inspire my writing. It’s true for many of my students as well. During yesterday’s search for the ordinary, I noticed one of my students arranging jumpropes on the ground and photographing them. And then this sometimes reluctant writer sat down to write.
Color Brain
Color strings sewing
my brain into thoughts,
ones about madness,
ones about fear,
ones about happiness,
ones about sickness,
ones about coldness,
and ones about love.
On the string of fear
the purple hides
with red,
next to blue and turquoise.
Leah
How’s your poetry writing coming along? What inspires your words and thoughts?
Ordinary Inspiration
The weather was gray and gloomy today, but that didn’t stop us from venturing out with our iPads and poetry notebooks in search of inspiration for continuing our poem-a-day challenge. Students were excited about the prospect of exploring the playground as a source of inspiration. They had 5 minutes to explore and take one photo. The next 7 minutes were spent drafting a poem. After some sharing back in the classroom, they had 7 more minutes to revise.
Our school yard is filled with trees, palm trees and pine trees, and the kids love to play under them and around them. And some were inspired to write a poem featuring a tree, like this one:
Tree
A tree that I’m looking up to
I see it in the distance
I call it my wishtree
It’s as high as the bright blue sky with big bushy leaves
Shining down to me
Calling me
Brayden
My poem for today also features a tree–the iconic palm that stands in the center of the playground.
The Cardiff Palm
Tall against the thick gray blanket of clouds
that blocks the sun.
Your crown of green fans out:
a home for birds
shade on sunny summer days.
An ever-present sentinel, standing watch
over generations of school children
listening to their playful shrieks
a backrest for tired athletes
a symbol of our coastal community.
Tireless palm
standing tall.
Douillard 2018
Some kids are still refining their poems inspired by William Carlos Williams. Here’s one inspired by the Red Wheelbarrow:
The Rocky River
So much depends
upon the river.
The fish slither through
the river.
Tadpoles turn into
frogs.
And birds fly over all!
Stone
And this one by This is Just to Say:
Easter Candy
I have stolen the Easter candy
that you hid in the cabinet
that you were probably saving
for after dinner
Forgive me
They tasted so good
The chocolate wafers
gave it away
Kalani
This is Just to Say…
Today’s poetry inspiration came from Williams’ poem of apology, This is Just to Say. In addition to studying the original, we also read some of the poems written by 6th graders in the book also titled This is Just to Say: Poems of Apology and Forgiveness by Joyce Sidman.
Students had fun playing around with their own poems of apology. Here’s a couple composed by the third graders in my class to give you a taste:
Dear Romeo,
I’m sorry I have to whip you sometimes
Also, I might tire you out sometimes,
but you’re always a handsome horse
lovable, huggable, gentle, and soft
Oh how I love your long mane
drifting in the sky
when we canter across the field
Love,
Tyler
I gave them a whole 7 minutes of writing time! It’s conference week, so students are on a minimum day schedule…and time is short!
I’m sorry Kai for poking you.
Sorry, I really didn’t think it through.
Although we had fun doing it, I’m sorry Kai for poking you.
Cody
And one more student poem, this one inspired by yesterday’s Red Wheelbarrow.
The Thread
So much depends on
a brand new jacket
and a loose thread
Pulling
into bits and pieces
until it is
one loose
and wiggly line
Lauryn
I found myself returning to the topic I explore in my first two poems. Today’s was written to that same egret I featured before–but from a slightly different angle.
This is Just to Say, My Friend
I have stalked you
my lens focused close
waiting for your head to turn
your neck to arch.
You seem so peaceful
and focused as you
stare out at the blue horizon
scanning for danger
or maybe appreciating the view.
I’m sorry for any disturbance
I cause with my close looking
and the click of the shutter.
I just can’t resist your elegant neck
and charming yellow feet!
Douillard 2018
Maybe, dear reader, you’ll try your own poem of apology today!
Let the Poetry Begin!
My students and I decided to take a 30-day challenge to celebrate National Poetry Month. We have committed to writing a poem each day of the month–in spite of the fact that our spring break begins when school is out on Friday! Hopefully, a poetry-filled launch this week will keep the poetry spirit alive and well during our time off.
To add to the motivation–for myself and my students–I plan to blog my poem-a-day…and feature poems written by my students on my blog as well.
To get started, I will include my poems one and two here today. Look for some student poems starting tomorrow–they needed time to refine their early efforts.
Yesterday’s poem was inspired by the snowy egret I watched and photographed on the beach on Friday.
Snowy Egret
Tuned to channel nature
where the constant whoosh and roar of waves
matches the rhythm of my heart
I scan the distant horizon
for the alabaster of my low-tide friend
As I come close
I notice the porcelain statue
with yellow feet
that unexpectedly
stomp and stir the shallows.
He’s rewarded for patience and persistence
with a briny treat.
My reward is the glimpse
of those charming yellow feet.
Today we learned about William Carlos Williams through the book, A River of Words. After reading a bit about his life and interests, we studied The Red Wheelbarrow to pay attention to how Williams put this iconic poem together. We then did some writing of our own under the influence of The Red Wheelbarrow.
Here’s my version, again related to the egret I am so drawn to.
The Tidepools
So much depends
upon
a low tide
on the beach
uncovering shallow pools
filled with fish and crustaceans
nearby the snowy egret
wades and waits.
How are you celebrating National Poetry Month?
Silent Sunday: April 1, 2018
Silent Sunday: March 25, 2018
Thinking Through My Lens 