To Fly into a Bright Sky

74707-poetry-friday-logoAmy Ludwig VanDerwater is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup at her fabulous blog, The Poem Farm. She has invited everyone to participate this week in a celebration of the life of Lee Bennett Hopkins. I’ve chosen to do so by writing a poem inspired by a line from an LBH poem.

To Fly into a Bright Sky

To fly into a bright sky
is to focus on the light
of the surrounding stars
rather than the darkness between.
To see ourselves as stalwart contenders,
rather than walking wounded.
To linger in laughter,
rather than wallow in tears.
To focus on what remains,
rather than on what was lost.

To fly into a bright sky
is to choose the light,
to chart a path,
to soar.

Molly Hogan ©2019
inspired by the line “to fly into a bright sky” from Lee Bennett Hopkins’s “Been to Yesterdays: Poems of a Life”

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I never had the opportunity to meet Lee Bennett Hopkins. After reading so many of the tributes and anecdotes shared recently, I find myself wishing even more that I had. Thankfully his poetry lives on.

 

Question

 

74707-poetry-friday-logoAfter a medical emergency with my husband late last week, things have calmed down a bit, but the questions remain, as does the elevated stress level. Seeking periodic escape from the latter, I’ve spent some time lost in my computer, reading/answering e-mails, avoiding news, and liberally dosing myself with poetry, nature photography and cat videos. (And look, did you see what I just did there? With the cat videos? That was sort of a joke (even if not totally untrue). Surely that means things are on an upswing!)

At any rate, I wasn’t sure I’d be participating in PF this week. My focus has been shot, and my writing has been erratic. Sadly, I didn’t get a chance to work on a tree poem to participate with Christie’s theme. Then, looking back through my queue of unattended e-mails, I read Jane Yolen’s daily poem from August 11th. It was a response to David L. Harrison’s word prompt for August: “Question.” Between the medical situation and being in my early 50s, I’ve certainly been feeling questions swirling lately and this was my response to that prompt. (WordPress wasn’t happy with my formatting attempts, so I’ve had to go with screen shots.)

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After rereading it, I realize this poem might sound a bit…dark…but it’s just what happened when I sat down to write. 

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by tree-loving Christie Wyman at her blog, Wondering and Wandering.  Make sure to stop by and see what sort of tree-inspired poetry is gathering there.

The Poetry Friday Roundup is Here!

74707-poetry-friday-logoWelcome to this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup! I was so excited to be hosting this week for  many reasons, but not least because I knew immediately what to title this blog post. Phew!

Titles are so important, but they give me so much trouble.  Far too often I hem and haw, and then finally choose a title simply to have it done. On rare occasions, a title comes to me immediately, but I can’t stress enough how rare that is. Usually, it’s a difficult process and results in a title that, at best, feels adequate. At worst, the process makes me circle round and round, tear my hair out, agonize loudly and at length, and question my writing skills. It’s an ugly process. Sigh.

A few weeks ago, not long after yet another title tussle, a Poetry Foundation Poem of the Day post popped up in my Inbox. The poem for that day was titled, “Lost in the Milky Way.” That’s a great title, I thought. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I could use the title like a found line. Inspired by that title, I could write a poem, and then I could even compare it to the one the poet wrote. The hard part was not looking at the original poem until mine was written. The wonderful, freeing part was knowing that I already had a title for my poem!

Now, I thought that I was very clever. I’d already written most of this post and had my plan in place. Then, I read Margaret Simon’s PF post two weeks ago. Rats! Apparently, my idea was not as innovative as I had thought! lol She noted that Austin Kleon shares the title-stealing idea in “Steal Like An Artist” and then went on to share a beautiful poem of her own based on a title stolen from a painting. Oh, well. I decided to go with my plan anyway. Maybe I’m stubborn, maybe I’d already invested too much energy, or maybe I just couldn’t face having to create a title!

At any rate, here’s my poem, based on a stolen title:

Lost in the Milky Way

To lose oneself in the Milky Way
first one must find it.

“Is that it?” I asked
that first night, so long ago.
“That smudgy streak?”

“That’s our galaxy!”
Your words tumbled out,
intense and eager.
“Made of millions–no, billions
of stars
            and planets
                               and solar systems!
It’s a barred spiral of light!”

You spouted facts and figures,
gesturing with one hand
while the other held mine.
My head swirled
with light years and
numbers with zero
                                 after zero
                                                 after zero.

Standing beside you now,
gazing into space,
my hand slips into yours.
I ground myself
in this one moment
in space and time,
while you continue to sing
your love song to the universe,
lost in the Milky Way.

Molly Hogan ©2019

Once my poem was written, I was eager to go back to the Poetry Foundation e-mail and check out the original poem with the inspiring title. The first thing that startled me was the poet’s name, which hadn’t been visible in the e-mail title. Linda Hogan! Go figure! (Thanks, Linda, for a great title! )Then, I read her poem.

Lost in the Milky Way

Some of us are like trees that grow with a spiral grain
as if prepared for the path of  the spirit’s journey
to the world of all souls.
It is not an easy path.
A dog stands at the opening constellation
past the great helping hand.
….. (click the title to read the whole poem.)
I’ve read this poem over and over again. It’s rich and layered and pretty wonderful. Very different from my poem. Isn’t it fascinating how the same title can lead in totally different directions?
So, if you’re interested in playing along, here are a few recent titles (with links to the original poems) that might be fun to play with–Please note, I haven’t read any of these poems, so I don’t know what you’ll find when you click on the links. I simply found the titles evocative.
Dear Echo
Also, next week Christie Wyman at Wondering and Wandering is hosting the Roundup. She’s thrown out an optional poetry theme of trees. Maybe you can steal a title to go along with that!
Lee  Bennett Hopkins

Photograph by Charles J Egita Photo

Note: I have just read the terribly sad news that Lee Bennett Hopkins died today. On the home page of his blog, he says: “Give children poetry. It is one of the best gifts you can give them…a gift to last a lifetime.” Thank you so much, Lee, for sharing your poetic gifts with all of us. You will be missed.
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Please click below to add your link for this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup.

Update: I apologize if I’ve been late approving any posts, or have missed approving any, and for not getting around to read and comment on posts. I’ve been unexpectedly caught up in a medical emergency. Thanks for understanding, and I will do the best I can when I can.

Poetry Friday: Definitos

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Last month, Heidi Mordhorst posed our Sunday writing critique group the challenge of writing a definito, a fabulous poetry form that she created and defined many moons ago. In short, Heidi describes the definito as “a free verse poem of 8-12 lines (aimed at readers 8-12 years old) that highlights wordplay as it demonstrates the meaning of a less common word, which always ends the poem.” I soon discovered that, even though I came up with word after word to use, the poems are much more challenging to write than I expected. Here are three of mine.

solitary

when there’s only
one
not two or three
existing
alone
on
its
own
solitary

©Molly Hogan, 2019

resilient.jpg

resilient

When challenges rise
like a flooding river
hold tight in the current
bend with the flow
Be strong
Be tough
Don’t let go…
Be resilient

©Molly Hogan, 2019

And then, just for kicks… and without a photo—

Regurgitate

Upchuck, throw up
heave, hurl, spew

Tossing cookies
sick with flu

What’s a queasy
kid to do?

Nauseous, achy
don’t feel great?

Grab a bucket!
DO NOT WAIT!

You’re going to…
regurgitate

©Molly Hogan, 2019

This week, Heidi‘s highlighting definitos as she hosts Poetry Friday at her blog, My Juicy Little Universe. Make sure to stop by to read more about the evolution of the form and to see some examples. Keep your eyes open while you wander through the Roundup, as  there will be plenty more definitos around! Then, consider trying your hand at writing one, but be forewarned: Writing these is kind of addictive! 

 

Happiness is…

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Happiness is combining my love of photography, nature and words. These days, I’m feeling so thankful for the beauty that surrounds me and for the respite it offers.  Here’s hoping that your summer days are also filled with natural wonders and time to appreciate them.

turtle final

lumbering* on land
within sun-dappled pond
snapping turtle glides
casting submarine shadows
a whisper amidst lily pads

©Molly Hogan, 2019

dragonfly

cloud walking

snowy egret
cloud walks in rosy shallows
daybreak mystique

©Molly Hogan, 2019

kingfisher

kingfisher’s wings
brush the river
reality meets reflection

I miss the shot
-too dark, too blurry-
but hold the memory
crystal clear

©Molly Hogan, 2019

Make sure to stop by Margaret Simon’s blog Reflections on the Teche today. She’s hosting this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup with a beautiful, poignant poem, crafted from a stolen title.

*Thanks to Catherine Flynn for this word choice!

Shifting Focus

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I purchased “Lost Words” by Robert G. Macfarlane quite some time ago after someone shared it here at PF. (Sorry! I can’t remember who. Update: It was Christie Wyman with this post.)  Wow! What a gorgeous book–both the poems and the illustrations.

Then, in June, Mary Lee Hahn tweeted that there are songs to go along with the poems. What!? I fell in love with this one and listened to it over and over and over again. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

“Enter the wild with care, my love, and speak the things you see.  Let new names take and root and thrive and grow.” Sigh…..beautiful….

I started following Macfarlane on twitter. Browsing through recent tweets, I found one in which he shared the term “plant blindness”.

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What a fascinating idea! In the thread of comments, someone shared a link to the original article (here) and a man named James Lomax also responded. He said he’d once walked with a wildflower expert who’d said, “The world comes into focus when you can identify the flowers.” I loved that idea. It helped me to put words to the deep pleasure I get from naming the plants and flowers that surround me when I’m out and about. Having read Tricia Stohr-Hunt’s PF clever triolet earlier this month, I was inspired to revisit that form with this idea in mind. Of course, she made it look so easy! ha! I’d forgotten how tricky these are. This one’s been more than a bit squirmy and hasn’t fully settled down yet. Perhaps it’s just a bit out of focus…

Shifting Focus

Naming plants and flowers
shifts the world into focus
In gilded fields or dappled bowers
naming plants and flowers
uplifts and empowers
Trillium, wintergreen, wild crocus
Naming plants and flowers
shifts the world into focus

Molly Hogan ©2019 (draft)

Check out this week’s bouquet of poetry (and a really cute puppy!) at the Poetry Friday Roundup at Carol’s Corner.

What if this poem didn’t care?

74707-poetry-friday-logoA couple of weeks ago, Linda Mitchell hosted the Roundup (here) and generously offered up some “poetry clunkers” for others to use. I was intrigued by the line “What if this poem didn’t care?”

What if this poem didn’t care?

What if this poem didn’t care?
If it simply gathered up
its syllables and vowels,
packed up its consonants
and hit the road
not even looking back once
to see me, bereft,
fading in the distance
a pen, broken, in my hand

Molly Hogan ©2019

Jone McCulloch is hosting this week’s Roundup at her blog, Deowriter. She’s sharing a fabulous poetry swap she received from Tabatha Yeatts along with some of her swap-inspired poems.

Oatmeal

74707-poetry-friday-logoDuring the last month or two, I’ve been playing around with some poetry forms in my notebook. Sometimes I find that I enjoy staying within the framework of a structure. I liked the idea of odes, and I thought it might be fun to write one about some relatively mundane subject. Oatmeal came to mind.

It occurred to me as I began to write this post to share my ode, that someone else might have written about oatmeal. Why not do a quick search? I did and, much to my delight,  discovered “Oatmeal” by Galway Kinnell:

I eat oatmeal for breakfast.
I make it on the hot plate and put skimmed milk on it.
I eat it alone.
I am aware it is not good to eat oatmeal alone.
Its consistency is such that is better for your mental health
if somebody eats it with you.
That is why I often think up an imaginary companion to have
breakfast with.
Possibly it is even worse to eat oatmeal with an imaginary
companion.
Nevertheless, yesterday morning, I ate my oatmeal porridge,
as he called it with John Keats.
Keats said I was absolutely right to invite him:
due to its glutinous texture, gluey lumpishness, hint of slime,
and unusual willingness to disintegrate, oatmeal should
not be eaten alone.
(click here to read the entire poem–it’s worth it! I promise!)

If you’d like, you can listen to Galway Kinnell read his poem aloud:

The downside of discovering  Kinnell’s poem is that I am now less inclined to share my own. It feels a lot more pedestrian, and it’s definitely geared toward a younger crowd. But, hey, it’s my little love song to oatmeal, so I’m going to post it anyway and just keep reminding myself, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” (T. Roosevelt)

Oatmeal

Oatmeal, oh oatmeal
most trustworthy food
warming my belly
sweetening my mood

You nimbly transform
with each addition
breakfast chameleon
packed with nutrition

With you by my side
each day starts off right
Oh, fairest of grains
my breakfast delight

©Molly Hogan, 2019

Stop on by Tricia Stohr-Hunt’s blog, The Miss Rumphius Effect, to check out this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup. She’s sharing a wonderful triolet, inspired by a challenge, some self-reflection and a bit of family and national history.

NYC Poems

74707-poetry-friday-logoI’m in New York right now, participating in Teachers College Summer Institute for Reading. What a week of learning this has been! I’m always inspired to write by the sights and sounds of the city around me, but it’s tough to find time and mental energy to devote to it. Here are a few in-the-works poems inspired by the sights and sounds of NYC. 

Broadway buzzes by
he curls around his black bag
a sleeping question

©Molly Hogan, 2019

A Subway Moment

swept into the subway
by torrents of rain
and arcs of lightning
I stumble onto the train and stand
pressed against passengers
a humid mass
of bedraggled humanity

through the window
I see a man
sitting on the platform
his hands dance gracefully in the air
drumming an inaudible tune
against an invisible drum

his bag of belongings behind him
he sits in his island
taps and beats until
his hands agitate
as if tripped up, bumping up
against microscopic motes
He grimaces
cocks his head
his hands still
Until…in a moment
his face smooths and
he resumes
his drumming

above us thunder booms
rain pummels the city
my train pulls away

Molly Hogan ©2019 (draft)
(Note—I edited this after first posting)

Journey

A man slept on the street
his naked feet
pale and surprisingly pink
peeked from beneath
a dingy blanket

Who washed these feet
when they were small?
Did anyone count and kiss
each precious toe?
Chase the little piggies
all the way home?
wee wee wee
What a journey

Molly Hogan ©2019 (draft)

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by children’s author, poet and wonderful photographer, Buffy Silverman at her blog (here). She’s sharing a peek into Helen Frost and Rick Lieder’s book “Hello I’m Here” and a wonderful original advice poem. What a delight!

The Bird Word

74707-poetry-friday-logoWherever I go, I watch birds. I spend hours watching birds at home, at the beach, and at the river. I confess, I even watch them while I should be focusing on the road. In fact, I’m amazed that, to date,  I’ve emerged unscathed from majorly bird-distracted driving! At any rate, I’m especially captivated by the daily drama at our feeders, and it frequently distracts me from my work. I often wonder about the birds’ ability to intuit the arrival of a new type of suet or fresh oranges or sunflower seeds. How do they spread the word?  I recently reworked an old poem about this, and thought I’d share the new and hopefully improved version here.

The Bird Word

Do they read a daily flyer
to alert them one and all?
Do they chatter at the back-fence
and report each new windfall?

Do they banter at the birdbath
’bout the tasty treat du jour?
Do they gossip while they’re gorging
at the feeder by the door?

Do the bluejays trade in hearsay,
while the chickadees chitchat?
Is there message to decipher
in woodpecker’s rat-a-tat?

Do the sparrows spread the news?
Each tweet a coded whistle?
Could one chirp mean sunflower seeds
and two long tweets mean thistle?

I suspect they gather nightly
to exchange the feeder news
and to seed their conversations
with their coded birdly clues.

I could sit still and decipher
how the word spreads with such speed
but instead I must go shopping…
I need two more bags of seed!

© Molly Hogan

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Laura Shovan at her blog. She’s sharing some wonderful student poetry from her recent stint as poet-in-residence.

And because I can’t resist sharing photos….here are a few of some feeder action 🙂

Addendum: Honestly, I just looked outside this morning and saw: a rose breasted grosbeak, a ruby throated hummingbird, several blue jays, a red winged blackbird, a red-bellied woodpecker, a white breasted nuthatch, a mourning dove and a catbird. In one glance! How lucky am I?