Tag Archives: Poetry Friday

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PF: Kenning

This month Margaret Simon posed our Inklings challenge. She asked us to write a kenning poem, and directed us to the Poetry Foundation’s explanation of kennings: “A figurative compound word that takes the place of an ordinary noun. Many kennings rely on myths or legends to make meaning and are found in Old Germanic, Norse, and English poetry, including The Seafarer, in which the ocean is called a “whale-path.” (See Ezra Pound’s translation). “The Oven Bird” by Robert Frost also includes examples such as “mid-wood” and “petal-fall.””

Here’s what I came up with:

In Praise of the August Bee

As light shifts
and lingering blossoms blaze
in heat-scorched fields,
you, thrumming honey-maker,
continue your work
undaunted.

Oh, blossom-diver, 
your advance is marked
by the dip and bend of stalks
and their speckled shadowdance
over thirsty ground.

You, benevolent thief, 
collect your autumn-gold 
leaving no trace,
merely the echo of your buzz,
and the soft petal-drop
of blossoms in your wake,
along with the promise
of future sweetness.

©Molly Hogan

If you want to see what the other Inklings did with this challenge, click on their links. Catherine won’t be participating this month and Heidi may not be either. You can still enjoy their most recent posts :).

Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche 
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core

I also went down an apian rabbit hole and discovered an ancient Anglo Saxon Bee Charm used to prevent swarming. I was charmed by it and delighted to notice that it used a kenning!

Sitte ge, sīgewīf,   sīgað tō eorðan,
næfre ge wilde   tō wuda fleogan,
beō ge swā gemindige,   mīnes gōdes,
swā bið manna gehwilc,   metes and ēðeles.

Settle down, victory-women, sink to earth,
never be wild and fly to the woods.
Be as mindful of my welfare,
as is each man of border and of home.

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Patricia J. Franz at her blog, Reverie. Be sure to stop by and gather up some poetry treasure!

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PF: August on my mind

Something’s coming…

The sense of time passing is never keener than in mid-August. Well, at least not for me, and I assume, for other teachers who are not yet back in the classroom. The days are bittersweet as we seek to squeeze every juicy moment out of them, even as they pass too swiftly. You can smell change in the air.

I’ve been writing a lot about time and August in my journal, and it’s nice to know I’m in good company with Sylvia Plath and Mary Oliver.

Ah, August…

For Tuesday’s Slice of Life, I wrote about my fascination with the hay bales in the fields, and shared some musings from my notebook:
“As fall speeds toward me, I feel a bit like that about my summer. It’s like I’m bundling up all my experiences, those bright sweet spots of summer, and neatly tucking them away. As if I’m counting on them to sustain me and nourish me through the coming months.” (Click here to see the full post.)

Here are some other notebook musings:

In August

Cicadas thrum
like a metronome
marking
time’s passing

And then I turned toward my beloved limerick form to try for something a bit more light-hearted:

In August there once was a teach
who pushed thoughts of school out of reach.
Looming tasks she eschewed
and as e-mails accrued,
she took herself off to the beach!

©Molly Hogan

Wishing you the best of Augusts and plenty of time to go enjoy this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup, hosted by Denise Krebs at Dare to Care.

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Poetry Friday is here!

Welcome to Poetry Friday! I’m so glad you’re stopping by, and I’m looking forward to enjoying the bounty of posts and poetry over the weekend. Don’t forget to add your link at the end of the post!

Last night I was lucky enough to attend “Words that Sing and Soar: The Joy of Words in Poetry,” a workshop with Georgia Heard and Irene Latham. What a wonderful evening! I came away high on words, with all sorts of tips and prompts and creative buzzings. During the workshop both Georgia and Irene mentioned Nikki Grimes and her word play exercise. As I’ve been wallowing in the summertime joy of procrastinating without serious ramifications, I had an opportunistic eye out for a possible Poetry Friday post (because yes, I had not written anything yet). Revisiting wordplay poems and sharing the draft I’d created sounded perfect. (Phew!)

The first time I became aware of this wordplay exercise was when I read Michelle Barnes’ interview with Nikki Grimes on This Little Ditty. The prompt was to choose a concrete word (ball, pumpkin, pen, etc.) and sit with it for a while, really thinking about it. As Nikki Grimes wrote, “When I talk about wordplay, I’m talking about studying a word from top to bottom, and inside out, considering every aspect of the word:  What it looks like, sounds like, feels like.  What it does, how it’s used, etc.  The idea is to bring all of your senses into the act. ” While I didn’t submit anything to Michelle’s challenge at the time, the Poetry Pals later used this prompt and that inspired me to play around with an Inktober word “splat” in a word play poem (here).

Last night Georgia referred back to Nikki Grimes’ exercise. She asked us to choose a word from a short list of words, and to complete the wordplay exercise with that chosen word. To put a spin on the original prompt, the words she provided were not concrete items but small words with many meanings. I chose the word “still,” which is one that know I use a lot in my poetry. So, it felt right to sit and spend some more thoughtful time with “still”.

Still

Still is a hidden-depths word
a quiet wind-bereft word
a word of absence 
and potential

A generous word,
still slows my beating heart,
lets the leaves rest
and paints reflections on the lake
It is the space between the ripples

Still is a word that perseveres
pushing up and through
a steadfast word
a stick-to-it word

Still purifies and distills
It’s a word of change
with notes of optimism
an “and-yet-maybe…” word
Hope flows
from still

©Molly Hogan, draft

To be honest, I wish I were still able to work on this poem, as it is still evolving. There are so many facets to “still”!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party. Click here to enter.

PS On a side note, speaking of Georgia Heard, if you haven’t yet subscribed to her monthly Heartbeats, I strongly encourage you to do so! It’s fabulous!

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PF: A Summer of Travel

This summer has been, and will continue to be, a summer of travel. Three days after school vacation began, we were off for about 2 1/2 weeks of travel in Iceland and Wales. As I write this post, I’m about an hour away from leaving for Martha’s Vineyard to spend time with my sisters. (I’m crossing my fingers that I can figure out the tech to pre-schedule publishing this and then remember to link up as well!)

I spend a lot of time taking pictures when I travel. (Sorry, travel companions! Thanks for your patience!) Once I’m home again, I love to look back through the pictures and relive the experiences. Sometimes I’m inspired to create image poems, or in this case, quasi “travelku”.

amidst the chaos
of craggy volcanic rock
lupines blaze

@Molly Hogan

Creating image poems spills over into daily life. They’re a bit addictive!

garden weather:
huge cumulous clusters drift
across a green sky

@Molly Hogan

Finally, I’ve found myself, again and again, feeling so fortunate that my travel ends with the pleasure of home.

after the journey
unpacking the gifts
of coming home

©Molly Hogan

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Tanita S. Davis. Click on over to find some poetry to savor! I’ll be late to read and comment, but will swing around once I’m back home again.

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PF: Inklings Challenge

This month’s Inklings challenge was from Mary Lee. She asked us to find a comment on one of our blog posts and to fashion a poem from it. I loved this idea, and immediately began considering comments as seeds for poems. Such fertile ground! In the end, I opted to use part of a comment that Patricia Franz made on one of my posts. She wrote: “Camera in tow, I stop for moss, for light; this morning it was antelope bitterbrush, its soft, shy yellow flower.” I chose to spin off the beginning of her line.

As day breaks

I stop for moss, for light;
this morning it was plum blossoms
with petals like pale butterflies
aflutter on branches
lit by rising sun

I lean in
keen to focus
on the blossoms so clear
delicately etched
across a canvas
of tender verdant leaves

light scatters
the day cracks open
but gently
like a chrysalis
splitting
or a soft exhale
after one’s breath
has been held
just a bit
too long 

©Molly Hogan

If you’re interested in reading what the other Inklings did, check out their sites here:

Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche (I believe she’s on a family jaunt and opting out this month, but you won’t regret stopping by her site anyway!)
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Mona Voekel at her blog.

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PF: Pantoum

There aren’t many things that land in my Inbox and that I read consistently, but Pádraig Ó Tuama’s Sunday post is one of them. This week he announced it was Pantoum Sunday and invited readers to join in and write a pantoum. He offers a wonderfully accessible template, which I’ve used before. This past weekend he added prompts for each line. If you’re interested, you can read more here. I played around with the prompt and wrote two pantoums. Both are still drafty, but here’s one of them:

Pantoum

Today is all golden tree tops and turbulent clouds
and I find myself wishing it away
Although yesterday I watched storm clouds mass and spit
As I write, I try to find my way to the core

Still, I find myself wishing it away
When I was younger, I tried so hard to fly
Now I write to find my way to the core 
I didn’t realize that flight insists on a landing

When I was younger I tried so hard to fly
but my feet never left the ground
and I didn’t realize that flight insists on a landing
though once I had a dream that I soared

Anyway my feet remain grounded and
yesterday I watched storm clouds mass and spit
and remembered I once had a dream that I soared
Today is all golden tree tops and turbulent clouds

©Molly Hogan, draft

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Mary Lee Hahn at her blog, A(nother) Year of Reading.

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PF: Gossip at the fence

I never know what will catch my eye when I’m out and about, but overall, I’m much more inclined to take photographs of natural images. In fact, I typically go out of my way to avoid people, buildings, and/or man-made objects. I’ve been known to gripe about people ruining my photo opportunities. (This does not always endear me to friends and family! lol ) There are always exceptions though.

On a long ago drive, this bike and fence caught my eye, and I pulled over to take a picture. (How I’ve managed not to get into multiple car accidents while gawking out the window at birds, scenery, etc, is beyond me!) Recently, when I was rummaging through photos, to curate my gallery show, I revisited this picture. I still loved the lines and the weathered look of the fence and the bike and the way they complemented each other. Looking at the photo again inspired me to write a poem to go along with it, and ultimately, I opted to include both in the show. The show comes down this afternoon, so I’m highlighting this pairing to mark the occasion.

Gossip at the Fence

Bike leans in
shares stories
of long ago wild rides
and windblown trails
of laughter

©Molly Hogan

The Poetry Friday Roundup this week is hosted by Carol L. at her blog.

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Wishing on a Star

I’m late with my response to this month’s Inkling challenge, as it’s been a whirlwind of a month. I’ve spent a lot of the month getting ready for a gallery show of my photographs with some accompanying poetry. The opening was last night and I’m still aglow from the event and all the friends and family who turned up to support me!

A photo and poetry pairing from the show:

World Turtle

You rise from earth
and bear its weight
Seedlings sprout like antlers
Your eye holds a universe

©Molly Hogan

That being said, I have had almost no time to address Heidi’s playful Inkling challenge for the month. She asked us to: “Celebrate May by writing a poem that Maykes use of the verbs may, might, could, can, ought. “These verbs are all modal verbs, which means that they are generally used in combination with other verbs, and are used to change the verb’s meaning to something different from simple fact. Modals express possibility, ability, prediction, permission, and necessity.””

May and might are words that send me straight back to starlit nights and childhood wishes. Each time I read the list of modal verbs, I kept thinking “Star light, Star bright, I wish I may, I wish I might…” So this morning, I let that guide me.

Wishing on a Star

The deadline’s past–
time’s been in flight!
I’ve cast a line
but words won’t bite.
They keep on whisking
out of sight!

But sun’s a star
and rising bright…
I turn to it
and by its light
speak heartfelt plea
to end my plight:

I wish I may
I wish I might
have a poem
come into sight…

Then I sit down
and start to write.

©Molly Hogan

To see what the other Inklings did with this prompt, click on the links below:
Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core

Poetry Friday is hosted by Rose Cappelli at her blog, Imagine the Possibilities. Be sure to stop by and see what other poetry is on offer!

I’m busy at the gallery today, so I will be delayed in making the rounds. I hope to get around to comment more tomorrow!

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Dipping back in…

This past year, and March in particular, have thrown me for a loop. I haven’t posted since March 31st, the last day of the Slice of Life Challenge. I suspect that might be the longest time I’ve not blogged in years! While I’m not sure I’m ready to fully dive back in, I’ve missed my writing communities. Today, after more than three weeks away and a full week of spring break, I’m dipping my toes in the water.

The Gift of a Hammock

how delightful to swing
amidst fresh air and trees
moving gently with the breeze or
motionless and carefree
open book beside me
content  to the core
keenly aware only of the present

Last Friday and Saturday were warm and delightful. I took full advantage, dug out the hammock, hung it, and promptly fell asleep in the sunshine. Bliss. This week, while thankfully not the snowy and rainy week forecasted, still had temperatures stubbornly hovering in the mid 40s. Sigh… The hammock now looks lonely in the back yard, and Spring feels a bit shy this year.

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Irene Latham at her blog, Live Your Poem.

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SOLC Day 14 and PF: Chin Hair

March 2026 SOLC–Day 14
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
http://www.twowritingteachers.org

I stepped toward the bathroom sink to wash my hands, glancing into the mirror.

Wait! What was that!?

I stopped in my tracks. Then I stepped closer to the mirror, tilting my head from side to side, peering closely.

Ack! Sure enough! There it was! Planted on my chin like some sort of renegade celebratory flag. A long thin chin hair!!! How had this one escaped my notice? How long had it been growing? Why had no one mentioned it!?

I grasped the offensive invader between my finger tips, and tugged. I felt a vicious satisfaction at the small pinch of pain as it yielded the field. Victory!

Just yesterday I’d commented on Amy’s blog (Writing With Abandon) that I could relate to her comment about chin hairs. I’d added that I’d recently written in my notebook, “I wish I had the tenacity of chin hair.” Because really, what is as tenacious as chin hair?

I remember a friend telling me quite a long time ago, “Once you hit 35, you’ll start growing hairs in all sorts of unusual places.”

I remember scoffing at the idea. Until I didn’t.

Now, I religiously check my chin each morning, searching out these villanous strands of keratin and removing them with grim satisfaction.

Thinking of all of this reminded me of a poem I wrote long ago, and I thought I’d resurrect it again–kind of like those chin hairs keep resurrecting! When I went searching for it, I found another one that I’d totally forgotten about. Who knew I was so inspired by chin hair? I’m sharing both because, clearly chin hair is worth writing about! lol


One of life’s pressing questions…

Who is more persistent:
The thick, black hair
reappearing
firmly rooted 
in the softening skin
on the left side of my chin
or I 
who wield
the tweezers
victoriously
again and again?

©Molly Hogan

The Battle

There once was a hair on my chin
undetected when first it grew in
I noticed it there
Adrift in the air
And plucked it with shame and chagrin.

I’ve heard in some far-away places
women cherish the hair on their faces
But I can’t sport a ‘stache
with elan or panache
I vow to remove any traces.

Another one grew on my cheek.
(It happened in less than a week!)
I pulled that one too
without great ado
But with a full bellicose shriek.

Each day my reflection as mirrored
Shows renegade hairs have appeared
My expression is grim
As I tweeze and I trim
Not resigned to displaying a beard.

My tweezers flash bright through the air
Extracting each invading hair
There is not a thing cute
’bout my face so hirsute
I battle with growing despair.

I continue the gods to implore
to vanquish these whiskers galore
They’re more apt to dispatch
A peach-fuzzy soul patch
I win battles but never the war.

Molly Hogan

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Linda Baie at  Teacher Dance.