Tag Archives: Poetry Friday

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SOLC 2019 Day 21 and PF: Jabberwocky

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March 2019 SOLC–Day 21
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

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This post is a dual post for the Slice of Life challenge and the Poetry Friday Roundup. This week’s Roundup is hosted by Rebecca Herzog at Sloth Reads. Although I hadn’t been aware that she’d invited participants to celebrate National Goof Off Day this week, serendipity was at hand. What could be more wonderfully fun and goofy than “Jabberwocky”, the word romping poem central to my post?
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Illustration by John Tenniel

Jabberwocky
by Lewis Carroll 
“’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe. ”

Last night we drove a few towns north to watch our youngest daughter sing with the University of Maine Singers during their spring concert tour. The Singers always end their concerts with a rousing rendition of Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky, accompanying the lyrics with overblown theatrics. They cavort on stage, miming snapping jaws, dramatically pulling vorpal swords, etc.

“…’Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!’

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree..”

Last night when they reached that last line, chorus members mocked fatigue. Some yawned, others slumped against their singing companions. My daughter, Lydia, took her two fists and rubbed them against her eyes, ducking her head down…and just like that I hurtled back through the years.

In an instant my 21 year old daughter was transformed so vividly in my mind to her long-ago sleepy toddler self. It was like a physical blow. A jolt. I was momentarily lifted from the present and thrust into the past, swamped with a sensation of nostalgia and loss. I remembered her heavy weight in my arms as I’d carry her up to bed, her head resting on my shoulder. I’d always softly sing to her “Good night, sweet heart…” as I climbed the stairs, and even though she was almost asleep, her small hand always patted my back, soothingly. It was the sweetest thing…

And then, just like that, I was back in the present, in the auditorium, listening to Lydia and the UMaine Singers finish up their romping version of Jabberwocky. I watched them burble, galumph and chortle…feeling a bit disoriented…memories of the past reconnecting to the reality of this present.

After the performance I hugged Lydia extra tight.

My baby girl.

 

 

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In Antarctica…

74707-poetry-friday-logoHeidi Mordhorst is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup at her blog, My Juicy Little Universe. Her passionate post focuses on the Youth Climate Strike and on taking steps to address our climate crisis. She lists a number of steps people can take to enact change, spread the message and pressure our governments to act. Finally, she invites participants to “use your post and your poetry as an action to address the climate crisis and create hope.”

I’m late chiming in for the week, and I’m not particularly hopeful, but I’m sharing a poem I wrote about a year ago in response to Laura Purdie Salas’s 15 Words Or Less weekly poetry photo prompt.

Penguin Cookie

Photo credit to Laura Purdie Salas

 In Antarctica…

Tens of thousands
of Adélie chicks
starve and perish
while we enjoy
our frosted cookies

M. Hogan (c) 2018

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Shifting Focus

74707-poetry-friday-logo“I didn’t sleep well,”  he said. “The rain kept me awake. It made the same sound you make each morning when you pick your glasses up off the nightstand.”

“That makes a noise?” I asked.

“Not a loud one–just distinct. A certain sound each morning.”

Now each morning when I pick up my glasses, I hear the frames lightly skitter on the wooden surface. I wonder what else I’ve missed.

Shifting Focus

How did I never notice
the changing hues
of the goldfinch
from winter to spring?
Was I blind to its drab presence
midst winter snows?
Did my eyes only open
with spring’s sweet call?
Now day by day the transition
from dull olive to lemon gold
startles me.

“Wake up!” I tell myself
“The world is full of marvels.
Pay attention!”

If I stop, sit and listen
will I hear the whisper
of the butterfly’s wings
or spy the slow unfurling
of the spiraled fern?

What other wonders
have I missed?

©2018 M. Hogan

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Catherine Flynn at her blog, Reading to the Core. She’s celebrating International Women’s Day with a beautiful original poem to honor Ellen Haring Baker.

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Poem Sketching

unnamedThe first week back after break is always a haul. Every day my alarm seems to go off earlier and earlier, but Friday seems to move progressively farther away. It’s a phenomenon that defies understanding.

Last week, when free time was abundant, I started fooling around with word group poems. Margaret Simon’s post inspired me so much that I purchased the Sandford Lyne book she mentioned. I haven’t read it all yet, but I’ve really enjoyed looking through his word combinations and toying around with them in my notebook. Lyne calls this “poem sketching.” It’s been the perfect activity to keep me writing on these bleary-eyed mornings.

Here’s one word group that took me in an unexpected direction:

flowers
memories
lonely
jar

I have few memories of flowers,
but one sister says,
“Remember how much she loved daisies?”
and another recalls planting marigolds with her
at the edges of the vegetable patch

Lonely amidst such remembrances
I surround myself with gardens and
fill the house with cut blossoms
tucked into the mason jars
my mother once filled with jams

©Molly Hogan, 2019

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Linda Baie at her wonderful blog, Teacher Dance. She’s sharing a fabulous spring poem that sprouted from a rich bed of anagrams.

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Invitation: a word collection poem

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In her Slice of Life post this past Tuesday, Margaret Simon shared some word group love poems she’d written with her students. They were inspired by a wonderful Charles Ghigna poem, some brainstorming and then a photocopied page of small word groups from Sandford Lyne’s Writing Poetry from the Inside Out. I was immediately drawn to the word collections and, in particular, I was intrigued by this list:

crane
brushstroke
iris
cloud

Here’s the resulting poem:

Invitation

you are the crane
in flight above
the purple flag
of my iris
your wings brushstroke
cloudy paths
through azure skies
as if to say
Come this way
Come this way

©M. Hogan, 2019

I’m not sure it’s a love poem, per se, but it’s what happened. Thanks to Margaret, her students, and Sandford Lyne for the inspiration!

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by children’s author, poet and artist, Robyn Hood Black at her blog, Life on the Deckle Edge.

PS–In a mixed-up moment this week, I thought Haiku Dialogue’s current theme was “a smooth coin.” I wrote a haiku, then realized I was a week late to submit it. “A smooth coin ” was last week’s theme. Oops.

how heavy the coin
worn smooth by Charon’s hand
the final payment

©M. Hogan, 2019

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Insomnia and Poetry Postcards

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Sleep doesn’t always come easily to me. To be more precise, I typically fall asleep in a heartbeat, but wake in the darkest hours of the night unable to sleep any longer. My eyes pop open and I’m alert, my mind racing with churning thoughts and worries. Ironically, one thing that can help me relax and get back to sleep is to mentally compose a story or a poem. I’ve even caught myself tapping syllables on the underside of my pillow. I’m not sure it’s a good sign that my mental writing efforts help me drift to sleep, but honestly, I’ll take it! Ironically, recently I’ve been composing insomnia poems in my mind during my wakeful hours. Here’s one of my latest:

Insomnia

In the deepest dark hours
night shifts and moon-born
silent shadows stir and stretch,
oblong on old pine floors, then
melt into inky corners, where murky
nocturnal thoughts slumber fitfully, and
invite them to fully
awaken

©Molly Hogan, 2019

I’ve also been remiss about thanking all those wonderful poets who participated in the New Year Poetry Postcard Exchange. My refrigerator is practically strutting! She’s covered with all sorts of poetic goodness and fabulous images. We’re both delighted with the make-over, and I can’t tell you how much those postcards perked me up during the darkest winter days. Thank you, thank you!!! Here they are in all their glory:

I’d like to pretend that my delayed thank you was deliberate, but it’s really just a happy coincidence that the New Year Poetry Postcard organizer, Jone, is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup. You can find more poetry at her blog, Check it Out.

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Morning Pages

 

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Morning Pages

What words will emerge
when I set pen to paper,
before the sun arises
and my eyes clear and focus?

When doorways are ajar,
what silvered light slips through
like dawn on the horizon?

In that liminal state
between sleep and sentience,
will I brush against
another world?

©M. Hogan, 2019

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Laura Purdie Salas at her blog, Writing the World for Kids. She’s celebrating the publication of her newest book, Snowman – Cold = Puddle: Spring Equations, and inviting poets to contribute equation poems on a padlet. What fun! I just contributed my idea: spider web + dew = masterpiece!

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During the Storm

After much hype, last weekend’s winter storm finally arrived and landed firmly in mediocrity. On a happy note, it was still potent enough to encourage me to linger indoors, look out the window, and write.

During the Storm

Swirling, twirling
snow-traced gusting wind
whips and worries
through the huddled garden
rustling baptisia pods
into whispered reminiscences
of spring

©M. Hogan, 2019

Tabatha Yeatts is hosting this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup at her blog, The Opposite of Indifference. She’s sharing poems by Marilyn Robertson and Phillis Levin.

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An “I am” Poem

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I’ve been revisiting Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge’s poemcrazy: freeing your life with words. I love this book. The first time I read it, I was driving down to Philadelphia and it simply transformed the journey. This book is one of my all-time favorites. Did I already mention that I love it? Every time I pick it up, I’m again thankful to Catherine Flynn for introducing it to me. It’s a wonder! There are so many prompts and practices that dig into rich poetic territory and celebrate unabashed word joy!

Today I’m sharing an “I am” poem I wrote in response to a practice Wooldridge shares in the book. She provides a long list of questions to answer, starting with “If I were a color, what color would I be? to  “If I were a movement, what movement would I be?” to “What’s the word hiding behind my eyes?” She emphasizes using collected words and seeing images to define yourself with these questions. “Be silly, serious, wry or overdramatic,” she advises….–as long as you’re writing about yourself.”

I am…

I am granite grey
plain Jane, sturdy and dependable
but sometimes sunlight shoots across my surface
igniting flecks of mica and quartz
into quick showers of sparkles
here, then gone
I’m a circle, or more probably, an oval
wobbly on the edges
and a bit dizzy from spinning
round and round
I am a quiet gasp of wonder and worry
A song of sunrise and sunset
Within me lives a distant howling wind
keen and piercing
like the memory of a small child crying
I could never be a sequoia
tall, strong, and directed
my bark is not immune to licking flames
my branches wander hither and yon
like the crony apple tree
that twists and gnarls
yet yields occasional ruby fruit
glistening sweet surprise
Behind my eyes
the word scared lingers
along with trying
sometimes they fight
but sometimes they hold hands
and jump into the fray together

©Molly Hogan, 2019

This week you can find the Poetry Friday Roundup at The Miss Rumphius Effect. If you’re living in the Northeast, you can surely tuck in some poetry around the forecasted falling snowflakes this weekend!

On that note, I’m going to tuck in two storm-inspired haiku:

winter storm hype
accumulates
faster than snow

©Molly Hogan, 2019

and

Big storm’s coming!

grocery store chaos
toilet paper, bread, and milk
the new trinity

©Molly Hogan, 2019

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My Kind of Worship

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This Zeno grew out of my recent thoughts while writing #haikuforhope last month. I hope you’re all feeling charitable, because I sort of cheated; prayer technically has two syllables, but I (and I think/hope many other people) pronounce it with only one, so I’m going with that.

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My Kind of Worship

Sunrise service at the river
pink horizon
eagle’s
stare
scattered sunlight
spider’s
lair
universal
morning
prayer

©Molly Hogan, 2019

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This week Kat Apel is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup from Down Under (here). She’s featuring some wonderful daily poems and photos she’s been sharing on Instagram. Make sure to stop by and check those out and while you’re there, why not click on a few other poetry links as well?