We Got the Beat: Fibonacci Poems Part 1

National Poetry Month is over, but I am still teaching poetry.

The third graders at Northfield E. S. were blown away by Fibonacci poems. We were actually doing math, science and poetry at the same time. This was a great lesson for our first workshop together. Our main goals were counting beats and sticking to a theme -- plenty for the third graders to handle.

I'll post the first half of my Fib lesson today with some student poems. We'll do the second half of the lesson for Poetry Friday.

For several years, I've been using Robert Bly's poem "Conversation with a Mouse" as a first day elementary school warm-up. The poem is in the anthology Poetry Speaks to Children.

 

I use "Conversation with a Mouse" it to talk about how a poem can grow or travel in just a few short lines. Bly's poem begins with a mouse in its tiny nest. (I always have the children sit on the floor. It's a cozy poem, and sitting close together helps them appreciate the poem's tone.) By the concluding lines, Bly has taken us all the way to the Milky Way galaxy.

A Conversation With a Mouse

by Robert Bly

One day a mouse called to me from his curly nest:
"How do you sleep? I love curliness."
"Well, I like to be stretched out. I like my bones to be
All lined up. I like to see my toes way off over there."

"I suppose that's one way," the mouse said,
"but I don't like it.
The planets don't act that way, nor the Milky Way."

Read the rest of the poem here.

 

"Conversation with a Mouse" was a particularly good way to start a lesson on Fibonacci poems. I read the poem and we discussed its meaning. The children and I talked about the shape the Milky Way galaxy makes -- even shaping a double spiral with our hands. I asked them to remember the spiral shape. We'd be seeing it later in the workshop.

After the children returned to their desks, we looked at the science picture book Growing Patterns by Sarah C. Campbell. (Here is the author talking about the book.)

Growing Patterns explains the Fibonacci sequence in simple terms. The basics are: start with the number zero. The next number in the sequence is one. From this point, always add the two previous numbers to figure out the next number in the sequence.

0

1

(0+1=) 1

(1+1=) 2

(1+2=) 3

(2+3=) 5

(3+5=) 8

(5+8=) 13

and so on.

This sequence is seen frequently in nature, particularly in shapes like hurricanes, nautilus shells, and spiral galaxies (remember the Milky Way from "Conversation with a Mouse?") When I show the children a graphic of the Fibonacci spiral and then we look at a nautilus shell, I can see the brains lighting up!

"So," I ask the class, "can you predict how we are going to make a poem out of this pattern of numbers?" They quickly figure it out ... by counting syllables.

Tomorrow (second part of the workshop), we'll talk about the inventor of Fibonacci poems and read sample fibs.

For now, here are some Fibonacci poems by the Northfield third graders. I asked the children to aim for a science theme. Thank you to Northfield's staff and families for giving me permission to share these wonderful poems.

Storm Fib

by Stefan C.

rain (1)

storm (1)

lightning (2)

brightest bolt (3)

gigantic red flame (5)

animals running from big fire (8)

dangerous flame burning down a big brown and green tree (13)

Mars Fib

by Zachary D.

Mars (1)

red (1)

in space (2)

cold at night (3)

flying to this place (5)

darkness and stars surrounding it (8)

Moon Fib

by Brynn L.

Moon (1)

rock (1)

shining (2)

has craters (3)

smiling down at me (5)

crescent making the sky light up (8)

universetoday.com

I was at the USA Science & Engineering Festival this Saturday. There, I ran into some super mathematicians from The Association of Women in Mathematics. What were they teaching kids at the festival about? Fibonacci numbers. They were so excited when I told them about our poetry workshop. Of course, math is a language we use to describe the world around us, just as we do in poetry. 

You can check out the AWM website for some kid-friendly math worksheets. Then come back for the rest of the lesson and more Northfield poems tomorrow.

30 Habits of Highly Effective Poets #16: Michael Tims on the Scientific Method

Michael Tims is a Maryland-based poet, active in the wonderful Hyattstown Mill Arts project. You can find the project's blog here, where Michael's "30 Habits" contribution is also posted.

My husband says if I hadn't become a poet, I would  have been a biologist. Insects, in particular, have my heart because they are so fascinating. (My children still remember me as the only mom, during the 17-year-cicada invasion, running to -- not away from -- the bugs.)

Lately, I have been reading molecular biologist Katherine Larson, who makes use of her scientific background in her poems.

Michael reading at a local writers' conference.

Here is Michael, on making scientific knowledge a poetic habit:

There’s a Science Geek Inside – You Just Don’t See It

Recently I started using science articles to generate the substructure or scaffolding of poems. Much like ekphrasis, which uses visual art as a jump off point, science reporting offers both unique phenomena and vocabulary to plumb.

A series of recent articles about atmospheric activity, everything from Earth’s magnetic field, to what occurs when lightning forms, to the microbial presence on water droplets provided me a unique point of view to consider my relationship with Gaia.

Generally, I lack awareness of atmospheric activity, unless the weather compels me to pay attention. These ideas gave me the context for my own existence in the larger scheme of Earth cycles and allowed my subconscious the space to work its magic under the surface. Like any good story, I wondered how it was going to turn out, until it did.

A Theory of Air

by Michael Tims

Gaia’s magnetic field snaps back

displeased at being rubbed

the wrong way.

An aurora borealis pungent

and teeming spills over

the invisible edge

we are all creatures of air.

Hurricane speed tide plumes plunge

ice crystals down to the surface

as electrostatic discharge

organized in previously unexplored

directions, seeding nimbus dust

slurries of reproducing

bacteria on troposphere mist.

Our cellular progenitors, we carry

their helical imprint of sky, engulf

each other in symbiont desperation

a reverse sublimation to terrestrial

bodies of water, Gaia

intending our existence to be

a lighter resurfacing

less of the organized, arrogant

tissue we now drag through air.

Michael Tims received his BA in English/Writing from George Mason University and a PhD from the University of Maryland studying the chemical ecologically of medicinal plants. He has worked in the herbal supplement industry as a health food store owner, a clinical herbalist and an academic researcher/teacher. He created and writes a science blog, Bardo's Calculus, as well as an artist and writers blog, Hyattstown Millstone.   

 During my poetry residencies this month, I'll be sharing John Scieszka's book Science Verse with fifth graders at Swansfield ES. Each piece in the book is a song or famous poem parody that explores something scientific (e.g. "Food Chain" a reenvisioning of "I'll Be Working on the Railroad.")

Third graders at Northfield E.S. will be writing science-based Fibonacci poems with me, using the beautiful book Growing Patterns: Fibonacci Numbers in Nature by Sarah C. Campbell. I can't wait to see what the crossover between science and poetry inspires in my students.