Poetry Friday: Monsters

It’s the first Poetry Friday of Halloween month. Today I’m going to tell you about great Halloween read for teens. There will be a poem, too. We’ll save that for last.

Heidi Mordhorst is kicking off
our Happy Halloween season
at My Juicy Little Universe.

The book in question is a horror novel, one I loved, even though I almost never read horror. I am not brave when it comes to scary books. Or movies. Or TV shows. If you insist on watching the Halloween episode of “Little House on the Prairie,” I will quietly disappear from the room before things get intense.

But I made an exception for the YA novel SHALLOW GRAVES by my fellow 2016 debut author, Kali Wallace. I bravely signed up to read Kali’s ARC. I took a funny picture of my dog freaking out with fear. 

No dogs were harmed in the taking of this picture.
Rudy just looks ridiculous when he yawns.

To explain why I fell in love with the story of a Breezy Lin, a teenage revenant (not “zombie,” please, our protagonist is neither mindless nor is she into eating brains), I have to tell you a true story.

Last weekend, my friend’s niece was in a terrible car accident. Although she survived, one of her friends was killed. How will this teenager cope? Witnessing the death of a classmate will irrevocably change who she is and how she interacts with the world.

So, my question is, how do teens begin to recover from this kind of intense trauma? The same question is at the heart of SHALLOW GRAVES. The more I thought about the novel, the more I realized that -- like the best science fiction and fantasy books -- the story serves as a metaphor for difficult things that we confront in real life.

Pre-order from Amazon.

A year after she is murdered, seventeen-year-old Breezy Lin wakes up in a shallow back-yard grave. The circumstances of her revival are mysterious, magical, and as violent as her initial death.

Although she wants nothing more than to return, alive, to her life as it was, Breezy is fundamentally a different person because of the trauma she has experienced. She can’t go back to her family or be her old self. Instead, she has to let go of the labels with which she once defined herself (future astronaut – that’s not going to happen) and find new, more complex ways of understanding who she is. METAPHOR.

Breezy’s quest to find out what she is and how she came to be undead takes her to some truly frightening places. Along the way, Breezy is forced to learn how to tell the difference between those who want to help her and those who want to hurt her (a great cast of religious fanatics, ghouls, and one ancient creature so evil, your skin will crawl), a skill she did not have when she was alive.

SHALLOW GRAVES was recently reviewed by Kirkus. Check out what they had to say here. 

Breezy is courageous in her willingness to confront the truth. Underneath this tale of imagined monsters is a real road map for survivors. Because the paranormal elements are a metaphor, a lens for looking at real human experience, the reader  follows along as Breezy copes with trauma, recognizes that it has changed her forever, and begins the process of being comfortable with who she is now.

I wanted to find the perfect poem to read alongside Kali’s wonderful book. And here it is…

Monsters

By Dorothea Lasky

This is a world where there are monsters

There are monsters everywhere, raccoons and skunks

There are possums outside, there are monsters in my bed.

There is one monster. He is my little one.

I talk to my little monster.

I give my little monster some bacon but that does not satisfy him.

I tell him, ssh ssh, don’t growl little monster!

And he growls, oh boy does he growl!

And he wants something from me,

He wants my soul.

Read the rest at the Poetry Foundation.

Stay spooky.

Source Poems: "Mother to Son"

For National Poetry Month 2014, I have invited 17 authors and poets to guest post about source poems. In this series of essays, each writer will describe a single poem's significance in his or her life.

Our guest blogger for today's source poem is poet and children's author Jacqueline Jules.

Jacqueline Jules

MOTHER TO SON

by LangstonHughes

Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor—

Bare.

But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

Langston Hughes, “Mother to Son” from Collected Poems. Copyright © 1994 by The Estate of Langston Hughes. Reprinted with the permission of Harold Ober Associates Incorporated. Source: The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes (Vintage Books, 1994)

Located at http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177021

My Ethical Will: “Mother to Son”

by Jacqueline Jules

“Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes comes as close to an ethical will as I could ever write to my own sons and grandchildren. Life may sparkle brilliantly at times, but it is not a crystal staircase. Instead of shining steps transparently waiting to lead us to our dreams, we must face tacks, splinters, and “boards torn up.”

My work as an author and a poet has been fraught with as much rejection as success. This year I had two picture books published. NeverSay a Mean Word Again took 16 years from idea to publication. What a Way to Start a New Year required 24 years. In June, Stronger Than Cleopatra, a poetry chapbook I’ve been working on for 20 years, will finally be made available to readers through ELJ Publications. I am intimately familiar with “reachin’ landin’s,” “turnin’ corners,” and “a-climbin’ on.” Rejection is a part of a writer’s life and choosing to sit down every time it happens means being stuck on a rotting staircase with your head in your hands.

This is not to say I haven’t been tripped by other things. Grief has certainly tempted me to sit down on too many occasions. I lost my first husband when I was 37 years old. My parents died nine months apart. Less than two years ago, I watched my only sister painfully succumb to a debilitating genetic disease at the same time another family member was diagnosed with cancer. Sometimes I question my ability to handle what may lie ahead. The height of the staircase is daunting. It offers no view of how many steps must be climbed before the next landing. And if I feel weak and lean too hard on the rail, it sways.

Perseverance, as portrayed so eloquently in “Mother to Son,” has redeeming power. To keep “a-climbing on” and “turnin’ corners,” even when it means “goin’ in the dark” is to recognize that better alternatives do not exist. The narrator in this poem provides both a courageous model and a challenge. If she keeps climbing when her life hasn’t been “a crystal stair,” then her son can face disappointments, too. A parent with a stubborn streak is a powerful inspiration. The voice in my head that keeps me moving when I’d rather collapse often sounds exactly like my father’s.  

The staircase beckons, even when there are “places with no carpet on the floor.” Our job in life is to keep climbing. To accept that life is supposed to be meaningful, not easy. 

And when I reach my final landing, I hope it will be said that I always had the courage to follow the sage advice Langston Hughes offers in “Mother to Son.”

Jacqueline Jules is the author of the poetry chapbooks, Field Trip to the Museum, coming in March from Finishing Line Press, and Stronger Than Cleopatra, coming in June from ELJ publications. Her poetry has appeared in numerous publications including Inkwell, Soundings Review, The Innisfree Poetry Journal, Potomac Review, Minimus, Imitation Fruit, Calyx, Connecticut River Review, and Pirene's Fountain. She is also the author of two dozen books for young readers including the Zapato Power series, No English, Sarah Laughs, and Never Say a Mean Word Again. Visit her online at www.jacquelinejules.com

Thank you for sharing your personal connection to this poem, Jacqueline. The stories that we have been telling in connection with source poems have made this a powerful National Poetry Month series.

Here is a word animation with a dramatic reading of Jacqueline's source poem, "Mother to Son":

Previous posts in this series:

Laura Shovan on "This Is Just to Say" by William Carlos Williams

Dylan Bargteil on "On Moral Leadership as a Political Dilemma" by June Jordan

J. C. Elkin on "Hannibal Clim" (author unknown)

Diane Mayr on a haiku by Basho

Jone MacCulloch on "We Are Waiting (a pantoum)" by Joyce Sidman

Mary Bargteil on Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

Poetry Postcard 39: Cream for your coffee or tea?

I love the randomness of this postcard.

The roads made me think of how busy life is, especially this week as I prepare to go to the annual AWP Conference. (You’ll find me at table X13, representing Little Patuxent Review. Stop by to say hello!)

We use such odd terms for highway constructions – terms that have nothing to do with speed. Cloverleaf. Jug handle. Artery. I was thinking about that and the trees in the photograph, which reminded me of my parents’ home in the Catskill Mountains.

Jug Handle

The jug is small,

a creamer glazed blue,
chip in its rounded lip.
The potter who lives

down my parents’ street
spun it on her wheel.

The handle seems

an afterthought,
the clay a bowed piece

of pulled taffy

hardened in the kiln.
They spend summers

in the mountains−

the potter, my parents−

where a jug handle

is what my mother uses
to pick up the old creamer

when someone has stopped in

and said yes, he has time

for a cup of coffee.

Laura Shovan

In reality, the handmade jug in the poem
lives with me, not at my mother's house.

Speaking of tea and postcards, both figure prominently in one of the most inventive children’s books we own, The Jolly Pocket Postman.

It was written and illustrated by Janet and Allan Ahlberg, first published in the U.S. in 1995 by Little, Brown and Company. The U.K. edition (also 1995) published by William Heinemann Ltd.

Think of this book as a mailman’s guide to your favorite, classic children’s stories, with a little taste of Griffin and Sabine thrown in to keep it interesting.

The first page is an envelope. It’s addressed: “For You.” Open it!

Inside is a postcard. The poem on the back begins,

“Dear Reader, pleased to meet you;

 Welcome to this book.”

The greeting explains that the pocket you have opened also contains a little magnifying glass, which you'll find in its own envelope.

Then the story, written in verse, gets going.

"Once upon a summer’s morning,

The Jolly Postman woke up yawning,

Cooked his breakfast, fed the dog,

Read the paper, kissed the frog…"

We follow the postman as he makes deliveries to Rapunzel, gets bonked on the head by a giant rattle falling from the sky (he may have passed a little too close to that beanstalk), and slides down a familiar rabbit hole. There, we find a spiral message.

Every other page or so is a pocket. One has a map entitled “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.” Old McDonald’s Farm, The Emerald City, The Neverland, Mr. McGregor’s Garden, and The Land of Counterpane are some of the places featured on the tiny map.

Several other pockets contain stories within the story, for which you will need that magnifying glass.

A story within the story, literally.

And an even tinier story within that!

The book ends with a postwoman delivering a special message to our hero.

The Jolly Pocket Postman is out of print, but you can find used copies. For the price of a new copy, you could send a whole lot of postcards.

Postcard Information:

SOCO GAP

Scene Soco Gap, at the intersection of the Blue Ridge Parkway and U.S. 19, is the marked boundary of the Qualla Reservation of the Cherokee Indians and was the gateway to the last Cherokee stronghold in Western North Carolina.

©1969 Aerial Photography Services, Inc., Charlotte, N.C.

47033-C

dp MADE BY DEXTER PRESS, INC.

WEST NYACK, NEW  YORK

Pub. by Aerial Photography Services, Inc., P.O. Box 27112, Charlotte, N.C. 28208

Emerging Poets Sampler

On Poetry Friday, I shared two student poems from my current school residency. Since the kids have been doing such great work on their poems, I've got more poetry to post.

This is my second year at Lisbon Elementary (home of the Lisbon Lions) in the western part of Howard County, Maryland. It's a welcoming school and I have a great time with the Lisbon fifth graders.

For a typical workshop, I begin with some kind of warm up. It might be a discussion of family food traditions, a zen drawing exercise, or a sensory experiment.

Next we'll read and discuss a model poem. I share some student poems from past residencies and then we're off... writing away!

Last week, one of our lessons was on Portrait Poems. The full Portrait Poem lesson description is here.

I can't remember which image or newspaper clipping Jessie B. used for her poem, but I love this one. The descriptions are deceptively simple, which makes the final lines WOW.

Three Women
by Jessie B.

Three women

fighting and

bickering

wondering

what to do

for the party

how to

plan it where

to have it

when to have

it very unaware

of the disastrous

tornado.

The fighting and bickering in the opening lines pair, in a very quiet way, with the tornado.

Phoebe F. chose a well-known image by Dorothea Lange (more of her Migrant Mother series here) . This portrait poem struck me as a reminder that our children see a connection between the Great Depression and the financial stresses many families are struggling with right now.

After Dorothea Lange

by Phoebe F.

Lines of stress, anger, hopelessness.

The lady, three kids scared

Their house foreclosed and

Nowhere to go, nothing to

Eat. The mother – brown hair

Worn clothes, scared, shocked.

Can’t get anywhere because

The lady sold her tires

To buy food.

She lives alone with her

3 kids but gets help and

Lives in a shelter.

She is scared for her kids

Bent over and crying.

There is a stark rhythm to the poem that fits the subject well. I especially like the last two lines, because we don't know whether the mother or the children are "bent over and crying." For me, that adds to the haunting tone.

Thanks again to the educators and families at Lisbon ES for giving me permission to share these wonderful student poems. And thanks to the Maryland State Arts Council for funding our Artist-in-Education grant.

A Just Right Teacher

We're heading to New York City tomorrow. I grew up in New Jersey, with that great skyline in view. I fell deeper in love as a student at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts (Dramatic Writing, natch!)

I love sharing my favorite city with the kids.

And while we're on the topic of favorites, this past school year my daughter had her favorite teacher yet.

There's an elementary-level quatrain poem lesson coming, so skip ahead if you like. Or, read on for the back story.

In third grade, my daughter had a wonderful teacher, who left on paternity leave. He was a young guy and loved to tease the kids. My daughter says, "He knew how to tease you so you'd feel good about yourself." She was heartbroken when he left and never connected with the long-term sub.

(When her grandfather died six months later, my daughter cried, "I can't go through this again!" and I realized just how deeply she experienced the loss of her teacher.)

I was thrilled when we got my daughter's fourth-grade assignment this past August. The wonderful Mrs. Bray!

Jenny Bray joined the school when my son was in fourth grade and moved up with his class to fifth. I knew she was a warm teacher and decent person, but after my son had moved on to middle school, I'd gotten to know Mrs. Bray through mutual friends.

She's smart, even-tempered and her love for kids shines through everything she does. My daughter needed someone to encourage her and love her up. Jenny Bray was the Just Right Teacher.

One of the things Jenny did for my girl was encourage her love of creative writing. During the last week of school -- when videos were on in classrooms all over Maryland -- Jenny taught a lesson on quatrain poems.

Her model poem is "The Night Is a Big Black Cat" by G. Orr Clark. It begins...

The Night is a big black cat,
The Moon is her topaz eye...

You'll find the rest to read and hear at Highlights Kids. This poem is deceptively simple. It teaches form: rhyming quatrain; but it also develops an animal metaphor over four short lines.

For those of you, like me, who use Emily Dickinson's "Hope Is the Thing With Feathers" as a model for animal metaphors, "The Night Is a Big Black Cat" is an option for younger grades or newly emerging writers.

Here is the assigned poem that my daughter wrote in class. Oh, did Mrs. Bray fuss over her.

The Hurricane Is a Circling Hawk

by J. Shovan (age 10)

The Hurricane is a circling hawk, searching for food.

The Sea is its mother.

The Humans below are its prey.

It whirls and twirls, ready to smother.

The morning of the last day of school, I suggested to my daughter that she write another quatrain metaphor, this one about her teacher, to share with the class. We worked on fine-tuning a few words together.

Mrs. Bray

by J. Shovan

Mrs. Bray is a gentle deer

watching her fawns with a caring eye.

She teaches them to survive the forest of school,

but when summer comes, they say goodbye.

Okay, go get a hankie. Then stop by some  more Poetry Friday blogs posted at today's host, awesome Maryland kids' poet Heidi M. at My Juicy Little Universe. Hi, Heidi!

Poetry Friday: Self Portrait Exercise

I love writing self-portrait poems with children. But the task can be daunting unless you help them focus. Kids are complicated persons!

I've done this a couple of ways. Sometimes I share a self-portrait by Vincent Van Gogh where the tones are overwhelmingly blue-green. Students choose a color to guide their self-descriptions.

Sometimes I ask students to follow the story of how they got their names. This result is a narrative self-portrait poem, often with a sense of family history.

I'm thrilled to have Kansas Poet Laureate Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg joining me for Poetry Friday today.

Caryn has a self-portrait writing exercise to share. Her model poem is "Self-Portrait as Hand."

Self-Portrait as Hand

I tell fortunes, the lines in me extinct
talismans. It’s really the muscles
that lift and open the world,
apple by apple. I’m not afraid
of my strength, the engine souls
of my palms, the curling and
uncurling fingers you depend on
without noticing. I’m wizened as
an old tree, spiffy as a happy tool.
I’m holding things or taking them,
falling on the keys, aiming toward
ignition, leaning on an arm
or leaping to his waist when
no one’s looking.
I’m good-looking too,
never too fat or ill-clad,
loopy as a cocktail party,
sporting my wedding band
like a loose bone.
When you stop mostly all the
other limbs and muscles, I’m still
agile as apples, happy as
the day is long, holding all
that can’t be held
without dropping a word.

Posted with permission of the author.

Writing exercise: write you own self-portrait as part of your body, or as an object, piece of furniture or type of weather.

Thanks, Caryn. This is a great way to work on metaphor using a focused image.

I asked Caryn a few questions about her job as the Sunflower State's poet laureate.

Do you, as Kansas' poet laureate, have a project?

Yes, and my project is called "Poetry Across Kansas: Reading and Writing Our Way Home." It encompasses writing workshops, using the poetry of Kansas poets as writing prompts, as well as sessions to train community leaders, artists and writers to lead ongoing writing circles in their towns.

I also offer poetry contests each April (as part of National Poetry Month), and I run a Poetry Pen Pal project, which matches up writers across the state to share their work, help one another revise and strengthen their writing, and look into publishing and public readings (all pen pal participants get a big packet of material to help them get started). 

I love the sound of Poetry Pen Pals. What a fun project that would be for kids.

What are the duties of a poet laureate in your state?

I do a monthly podcast that I send out to a large email list and to all media contacts in Kansas, and that I post on my blog and on the Kansas Arts Commission website. I also write regular columns, and do readings and workshops throughout the state.

Tomorrow, Caryn will fill us in on the literary scene in Kansas, including some advice for teaching poetry in the classroom. Add school workshops to the list of poetry outreach she does!


Poetry Friday is brought to you by the letter L. Stop by Laura Salas' Writing the World for Kids more poetry.