OIK Tuesday: backpacks in love

It's been a while since I took up the challenge of writing poems based on the things I hear in the classroom, but as our year is coming to a close I have to slow down, pay attention and grab a few more bon-mots from the mouths of kindergarteners.

It just so happens that the two girls beginning with K in my class sit side by side at the moment.  The other morning they came to me to untangle their backpacks.  In the course of unpacking, in a way that you could never achieve even if you made it your day's work, the zipper tab of one backpack had hooked itself through the mesh pocket of the other.  I separated the backpacks and we went to work trying to formulate Big Questions about The Little Red Hen.  (My favorite this year was Indi's:  "Why didn't the Little Red Hen get angry?")

That afternoon at packing-up time, the two K's came to me from the closet where their backpacks hang side-by-side.  They held up their backpacks, again connected by zipper and pocket, and one K said,  "We think our backpacks are in love!"  The other K added, "Maybe it's because they both begin with K."

Gosh, I love kindergarteners!

*************************
Backpacks in Love

zip on over close to me--
               I'll hold your heart capaciously
pop into my pocket
              I'll never ever drop it
pack your hopes and dreams in me
              I'll carry all you ever need
wear me out and wear me down
              I'll always hang around


Heidi Mordhorst 2013
draft

sunday morning slam

Last month I shared poems written during Religious Education classes at my UU congregation; last week you got poems in the key of kindergarten.  This week I can leap off from both those points to share a piece from a couple of Sundays ago at the annual Youth Service, where high-schoolers take the whole service and the seniors leave us something of themselves and then cross over into young adulthood.

There are always impressive performances of various kinds at the Youth Service:  musical offerings, reflections, skits, dance numbers, and yes, poetry.  But I was surprised this year when senior Alek Zherka stepped away from the lectern and delivered a subtly powerful performance of his piece, "Strive to Be Me."  I wish I could share with you a video of his moment--it was brief, since he didn't include the long last section--but it sure sounded like a poem to me, and that's what Alek calls it. You'll see that it doesn't look on paper [or on screen] the way I expected it to when I wrote to ask for a copy.  Still, while Alek's delivery wasn't showy or stagey, he moved to the composed music of his words and created, for me anyway, an experience that was Louder Than a Bomb.

Strive to Be Me | Alek Zherka

Where is home? Home is where your heart is. The size of one's fist, yet it has so many parts that very few can list. The wrist up, seems pretty small, but it answers the call when you call on it to keep you living; breathing the same air that Lincoln breathed while thinking how to bring two halves to make a whole. One plus one is two, or so I've been told. Are we different, him and I? His goals aren’t mine, because his are his and mine are mine. Mine are for me and me only. That’s why I strive to be me.

Why can’t addicts stop? Why do kids want to be cops? Why do people destroy one another just to reach the top? Because that’s life, no meaning, just meanness; madness yes, but seamlessly so. The to and fro, the ying and yo, of the daily life we live. Living is seeing, and seeing is believing. Therefore people live to believe. That’s why I strive to be me.

How does one define the value of a life? Is it what one can give to a wife? He buys a diamond, stained with blood. Every kiss begins with slave. Taken away, over the waves, to a cave. Mining them, cutting them. Cutting fingers. The children’s screams linger. It's daunting, forever haunting those who know. But the feelings go, when one sees the bright shine of a diamond. So we say never forget, but we never do anything, something we say we will forever regret. But in reality we barely care. Girls will always want a reason to do up their hair. So a diamond is bought without a thought, it is always sought by those who ought to know not. So the small kids rot away, day by day. That’s the value of a life. The couple is forever happy under the sun. The kids can’t remember the last time they had fun, or even saw the sun. Does the ring fit? The closest thing is a candle once lit. If it doesn’t fit don’t fret, a new one only costs four kids. Next time you see one, a diamond that is, think of me, think of this. I hope I have made some difference today, talking about those not yet free. That’s why I strive to be me.

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I'm thinking a lot about slam poetry this week because I've organized the annual visit of Gayle Danley to Daisy's school for a performance and workshops, and then Teacher Appreciation Week isn't complete without another viewing of Taylor Mali performing "What Do Teachers Make?"

The Poetry Friday round-up this week is at Booktalking with Anastasia, I think...

OIK Tuesday returns! kindergarten poetry

Today Overheard in Kindergarten Tuesday extends into Poetry Friday!  My eighteen Mighty Minnows spent the week of April 15 meeting poems by Langston Hughes, Lilian Moore, Arnold Adoff and Beatrice Schenk de Regniers to learn what poets do.  On the Friday they worked to compose their own poems.  I'm excited to share this work from children at varying stages of independent writing ability.

My proudest accomplishment as a teacher is that EVERY child knew what they wanted to write and felt competent to write a poem, and that EVERY child chose a different small thing to write about (with one exception, and that was my fault; I gave homework the night before to write a little poem about pockets). How's that for Thinking and Academic Success Skills? 

Animals 

I found a cat

I found another cat

I found three cats

by Nadja

 

Mosquitoes

 

I hate

mosquitoes

They bite

people

They give me

rashes 

by Bertrand

 

Flowers

 

I like flowers
You do too 

They can be colors

Well, you can like them

too   

Everybody can

by Karina

I Am Pretty 

I walk

to a big butterfly

I wear

my green dress
I go

to my castle

by Janie

 

Pockets

I really like pockets

and what you can put
inside 

you can take it out

and show it

or you can keep it in

and hide
 

by Briella 

unleashing the undead
 

the night unleashes

the dead: vampires,

zombies, ghosts, ghouls

ripping your throat.

by Beck
[Beck and I mutually agreed that while this is a cracking poem,
it isn't quite appropriate for a kindergarten anthology.  He's written
a new one about shoes, but I wanted to post his original creation here.]

Scaring Carrie
 

BOO!

I’m a giant.

and she goes

away!

by Santiago 
 

Dominoes
 

dominoes

put them in a row

flick really soft

flick with your finger

watch them tumble

see them tumble!

by Mikael

 

 Fast 
 

Fast brings

  speed.  fire

  brings

super
            speed!

     super super

   super speed!

    speed   That’s what

I call it!
 

     by Arden

 

Popcorn

 

popcorn

in my pocket
popcorn

in my pocket

then my popcorn

pops away! 

by Antonio 

Why 
 

Why do you think

you’re going to

bed?   I don’t think

I am going to bed.

Ohhhh!
 

by Tonya
 

To the Sun 
 

I flew to the sun
and was gone

forever and

I said   NOOO 

by Tiago 

Sing
 

Sing me

and everybody

sing and

the world

can sing

too

by Henderson 

A Horse

the wind is going fast

when the horse goes fast
the wind goes blowing

through her hair

when the grass blows

the horse goes away fast
the horse stops
to get a drink 

by Le’Ann

[Can you see the influence of Christina Rossetti here?  One of our
anthology poems was "Clouds," with the white sheep walking away
slow.]

Paul’s Pockets

 
pocket skirts and

pocket shirts and

pants and pretty dresses

all have pockets
but I like Paul’s pockets

best

by Cora



 

Cats

 

cats are furry

cats are cuddly

cats are friendly

cats are hairy

cats are mean sometimes.

by Merrilee 

The Pockets

the pockets

are very important

why?  they help you

carry things when you

need them 

by Indi 

My Shiny Bow

Shiny shiny!
Shiny bow

I like it
I like it

It’s very low

Very very

Very very

Very very

Very low

by Susye

***************
 

30days30words--word 30: a poem is born!

birthday  

secret wishes,
     fiery code…

                    nothing.
happy wrapping
hides the empty

             cage.  

something whispers:

      furry coat,

                 thumping,

sniffing whiskers.  

subtle whistles,
      buried hope…
                 surprise!

         eyesearspaws
         leap—
finally
found. 

***************************

Crowd-sourced, collaborative, cumulative poem by

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater

Andromeda Jazmon Sibley

April Halprin Wayland

Bridget Magee

Buffy Silverman

Daisy Grant

Diane Mayr

Doraine Bennett

Gail Aldous

Irene Latham

Janet Fagal

Janet Wong

Joanne

Joy Acey

Julie Larios

Kate Coombs

Laura Purdie Salas

Laura Shovan

Linda Baie

Liz Steinglass

Margaret Simon

Mary Lee Hahn

Matt Forrest Esenwine

Michelle Heidenrich Barnes

Penny Klostermann

Petrina Hollingsworth

Renee LaTulippe

Robyn Hood Black

Ruth at TINSTAAGFT

Serena at Savvy Wit and Verse

Tabatha Yeatts

Tara at a Teaching Life

*********************************

Whoo-hoo!  Ladies and gentleman, I thank you for a most satisfactory experiment!  Even I'm surprised when I see how many of you helped this baby be born (and forgive me if I have left anyone out).  My time is scant this morning and I spent most of it incorporating your revision suggestions and exercising my editorial license, and I think that this birthday poem is now as good as it can be without messing with the fundamental collaborative, one-word-a-day premise.

 

And look--if I felt a little uncomfortable after suggesting that I had already preemptively selected the last word, I got my comeuppance.  My thoughts of a leaping, happy lap are replaced by a finer "finally/found."  (I did consider Irene's wish to have a serious surprise at the end by choosing, as in an unpromising Broadway musical, "Finally Ferret!")

 

As Buffy says, "Rules, schmules," and the lesson is perhaps "Tell creatives what to do at your peril."  I hope you all enjoyed the process and much as I did, and for all whose own awesome NPM projects I couldn't keep up with because of 30d30w, forgive me.  Next year I'll make my project to participate in yours!

30d30w: word 29

birthday  

secret whistles,
fiery code…

                     nothing.
happy wrapping
hides the empty

         cage.

something whispers:

furry coat

                thumping

sniffing whiskers  

subtle wishes,

buried hope…
                surprise!

eyes paws ears   leap

finally

Golly.  When I first cut and pasted this from my worksheet doc, I had added lick from both Buffy and Laura S. as word 29--I'm a sucker for alliteration (and who among us ain't?).  But then, as Laura notes, that does rather limit the critter, since I can't picture anything leaping and licking except a dog. 

This became suddenly problematic, for I am not a dog person.  Now, I know that many (most?) people are dog people, but for the purposes of this poem--and bearing in mind that there are really VERY many dog poems--I suddenly decided that finally works better.  It captures all that whistling and whispering and wishing and hoping, and while typically one whistles for a dog, I can see someone whistling for a lost mouse or ferret or rabbit as well.

Early yesterday both Mary Lee and Daisy independently wondered the same way about "fiery code," and it's coming up in other comments too.  Let me tell you why that worked (and is still working) for me, although I may yet see the need to revise.  To me, the peak birthday moment is that moment when the candles are all lit and everyone is singing and you're gathering breath and putting your face right next to the undeniably dangerous flames and making your wish and knowing that a) you must not tell your wish and b) you must blow all the candles out at once and c) if there are those rules then there might be other rules, like how you encode your wish might actually matter.

For me, the poem begins in that moment, when the birthday child can think of nothing but the cage that has stood empty for days, and how the special whistle has not worked, and how encoding the wish exactly right in the blowing of that fiery, dramatic moment might do the trick...and then nothing.  The moment is over and the presents received, and no amount of happy wrapping can overcome the sadness of that empty cage.  Maybe "hides" is the problem?

I'd be very curious about how that first stanza reads to everyone else--I was sure that you'd be suggesting changes to "subtle wishes,/buried hope," since for me the energy seems to drop there and I'm not sure we're getting enough out of those words.  Last call for revisions!

And just one more time, may I say how much I'm loving this deep work at the word level?  And one more time, how much I appreciate those who have dropped in to play along? 

30d30w: word 28

birthday  

secret whistles,
fiery code…

                   nothing.
happy wrapping
hides the empty

        cage.

something whispers:

furry coat

                thumping

sniffing whiskers

subtle wishes,

buried hope…
                 surprise!

eyespawsears leap

Here's our patient little poem without the questions marks, just to try that out...and Margaret's suggestion yesterday narrows down the animal, so to speak.  With only two words left, its species will be left unspecified (which is all right by me--ambiguity in a poem is, I think, often what allows it to speak directly to a wide range of listeners).  However, I'll admit I'd been thinking bunny or smaller, and "leap" is more of a cat or dog word.  I also liked Janet's bound, but that would be an even bigger beast, I believe, and harder to lose.  Or hide.  : )

Here's an interesting question:  must word 29 be an adverb now?  Or, if we accept that Word 30 is "lap," what else might work? 

30d30w: word 27

birthday  

secret whistles,
fiery code…

                     nothing.
happy wrapping
hides the empty

        cage.  

something whispers…

furry coat?

thumping?
sniffing whiskers?  

subtle wishes,

buried hope…
                surprise!

eyespawsears

Poetry Friday was a packed party this week, I think--hard to get through the crowd to this corner of the universe!  Thanks to Margaret, Petrina and Janet for stopping by to keep things going.  Those ears are pretty important right now. 

I'm thinking about a happy lap for the last word, and again, on the 29th, instead of suggesting the last word, how about you advise me about one revision that would polish up this poem for its final appearance?

30d30w: word 26 and a special challenge

Flickr Creative Commons photo by Mykl Roventine

 
birthday  

secret whistles,
fiery code…

              nothing.
happy wrapping
hides the empty

        cage.

 

something whispers…

furry coat?

thumping?

sniffing whiskers?

 subtle wishes,

buried hope…
                surprise!

eyespaws

For those who are just tuning in, welcome to the 30days30words cumulative, collaborative poem! To keep things simple for busy people this National Poetry Month, I posted a single word on April 1 and each day have invited all comers to suggest the next word in the poem. We have continued like this throughout April, one word at a time, and are nearing the conclusion of a poem of surprising form and function.  Please do go back and see how the poem has evolved through the faithful contributions of around a dozen thoughtful, playful collaborators!

 

It seems we must literally leap towards the conclusion now. All in a rush now the beloved missing (or new) birthday creature will leap into the poem, eyespawsandall, and I think I'll be selecting the last word myself (I might even know what it is, but we'll see!).

So, dear players, I have a special challenge for you on April 29. Instead of suggesting the final word, I invite you to suggest a revision, an edit, a change that you believe will improve the whole poem. I've certainly felt at several points along the way that I may have made a misstep in my selections or formatting, or that my head overruled my heart or vice versa.  I bet YOU can help me and "birthday" finish with a flourish. Thank you!