In Residence: Poetry Celebration

Today's the big day, third grade poets.

It's our poetry celebration at Manor Woods Elementary School. I've been in residence with the third grade for the last three weeks. Today, families are coming to listen to us read all of the poems we've been working so hard on.

It wouldn't be a party without food.

Let's jump into our celebration with some food poems by the Manor Woods third graders. During this workshop, we are concentrating on using our five senses to describe a food. Food is so tied up with family, memory, and traditions. I asked the poets to stretch themselves and give the reader a sense of what or who makes these foods important to them.

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By Amira W.

The Ravens game starts, “Set hut.”

My mom makes my favorite dish!

Buffalo dip and mussels.

It’s so good. It smells delicious.

I can’t wait to eat it!

I hear footsteps coming.

That must be my mom.

She sets them at the table

And I started chomping them up

They taste so good.

I can’t wait until the next game!

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By Shyla L.

It’s Thanksgiving day.

We are going to make apple crisp.

Mom gets the knives out.

Slice, slice, the apples are cut

Into tiny bits.

Chomp, chomp.

We fling a few in our mouths.

Mom gets the cake mix out.

Clank, clank goes the mixing spoon

When she pours the mix in

With some sweet sugar.

I could smell the apples

Mom put it into the oven to soften.

I take the baking tray out.

Apple crisp was the first thing
I learned to bake by myself.
A guilt-free recipe is here.

Cheese Burgers

By Rachel L.

Walking to the cafeteria after recess at school.

Smelling delicious cheese burgers.

Mmm!!

The bread all plain with cheese on it.

Hearing the register go ching!

Also hear the meat sizzle.

Adding lettuce to my burger.

Sip! Drinking chocolate milk.

The sound of finally cleaning up.

Getting a duck slip for quietly waiting in line.

Cheese burgers are yummy!!

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By Ryan P.

Going down in the morning

To have breakfast

Is a nice and peaceful breakfast

With no banging, crashing.

Get out the cereal and milk.

Splashing the milk in the bowl

Sip, chew, eating all the cereal.

Back to bed I go.

Costco

By Constantine E.

When I lived in Virginia,

There was a Costco nearby.

My mom let me get something

Cheap on the menu. I ordered

A hot dog. I hear them

Wrapping it up

And bringing it toward me.

I unwrapped it and my mouth

Started to water.

Crunch went the onion dispenser

When I was putting on the onions.

I put on ketchup and mustard

And I could almost taste it!

When I took my first bite,

I was clearly amazed.

It tasted like heaven,

Just in my hands!

Third graders -- you're going to love this video of our model poem, "Good Hotdogs" by Sandra Cisneros. It was made by kids.

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By Andrew B.

Get the spoons, get ready

For spaghetti. Rumble, rumble

Bubble, bubble, bubble chicka chick.

Put it on the table.

Wop, wop, wop. I eat two bowls.

Mom and Dad and my older brother

Eat three each.

We ate at our house. I was full

And stopped eating.

The food was great.

I liked it, but then

Me and my brother played Wii.

It was fun. I should do this again.

It was fun.

Dumpling

By Evan T.

When I came back from soccer,

I asked Mom, “What’s for lunch?”

I smelled the dumplings

And it smelled tasty.

I took off my shoes

And went in the dining room

And sat down.

When the dumplings got on my plate

It was hot.
I grabbed a fork and started eating.

The meat inside the dumpling

Was delicious.

Wow, poets! Thanks for working extra onomatopoeia words into your food poems. Gold star!

Before we say goodbye, I'd like to share two more poems. Both of these are portraits, written in response to photographs clipped from a newspaper or magazine. I like the portrait workshop because it gives young writers a chance to show what deep thinkers and compassionate human beings they are. (You can find my portrait poem lesson at Author Amok. Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here.)

Portrait Poem

by Marcus Z.

I look at the shelf,

getting a book for me and my wife to read.

The book's name is Spongebob.

So funny to read that.

Me and my wife like to read.

We hope to have children

that are like us.

We hope the children love

Spongebob the  movie or book.

We just hope to have children

that are like us.

Portrait Poem

By Roman R.

A guitarist’s pet dog just died

And he’s singing a sad, sad song

About his dog Billy Bob Joe Bob.

He was white and black.

He was just like his guitar

And sad like his guitar.

He sings all night

With his cool cowboy suit on.

His badge shines

In the half faded darkness.

His boots are down

And his head is up.

He is trying to fight off the darkness

But he can’t.

If you'd like to read more poems from the Manor Woods poetry residency, here are the links:

Howl-oween Onomatopoeia
Onomatopoeia Lesson 1
Onomatopoeia Lesson 2
Opposites Poems
Food and Portrait Poems (You're already here!)

All student poems posted here with permission. Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I am taking a break from blogging until December 1.

Summer Reads: Chapter & Verse (Walk Two Moons)

Happy Poetry Friday! It's still summer. Let's enjoy some late summer fruit today, wild blackberries warmed by the sun.

From LivingEarthFarms.net
Blackberries grow wild in Maryland.

Today's Poetry Friday host is Irene Latham
at Live Your Poem. Live it up today -- stop by
Irene's blog for more poetry links.

This is the sixth post in a series called Summer Reads: Chapter & Verse. Guest bloggers and I are pairing books we've read this summer with a poem that complements the novel.

So far, we've paired:

THE GIRLS AT THE KINGFISHER CLUB (Historical YA)

with Edna St. Vincent Millay's "First Fig"

DARIUS & TWIG (Contemporary Urban YA)

with Gwendolyn Brooks' "We Real Cool"

STARGIRL (Contemporary YA)

with Eileen Spinelli's, "Poem for a Bully" and "Advice to Rapunzel"

Shared by guest blogger Janet Wong

THE IMPOSSIBLE KNIFE OF MEMORY (Contemporary YA)

with W.M. Rivera's "The You That's Left"

COLDTOWN (YA Urban Fantasy)

with Sarah Beasley's "Grief Puppet"

I've been working a lot this summer. The educational consulting office where I work part-time is 40 minutes from my home, so much of my summer reading has been audio-books in the car.

Here is my Public Service Announcement for today. Do not listen to Sharon Creech's classic MG novel WALK TWO MOONS on your way to work, especially if you are wearing mascara. You may, like me, find yourself listening to the final chapters of the book, wondering whether you should pull over because you are crying so hard, and eventually arrive at work a bleary-eyed, mascara-smeared, emotional wreck.

Which cover do you prefer?

There are many middle grade and YA novels about a child who is either searching for a missing parent or in search of information about a parent who has died. WALK TWO MOONS sat on my shelf (yes, I have a paperback copy) for years. Maybe I wasn't ready to read about a grieving child. Maybe listening to the book felt more comfortable.

Did I love WALK TWO MOONS? Yes! I loved the story-within-a-story structure. I loved the voice of Sal (Salamanca). I loved the rich descriptions of settings, people, and first kisses. And grandparents in love -- how sweet is that?

It's those grandparents-in-love that made me enjoy the book, despite my messy tears. Because Sal spends most of the novel with her grandparents, the reader *always* knows that Sal is loved and supported, even though she has lost her mother.

Poetry appears in WALK TWO MOONS. Sal and her class discuss Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls." While some students love the musicality of the poem, Sal and her friend Phoebe (whose own mother is missing), focus on the character of the traveler. Sal and Phoebe are angry that their class is discussing a poem that romanticizes death or suicide. (My HS students often had the same reaction when we studied Romeo & Juliet.)

However, I'm choosing something else to pair with this novel. Blackberry poems. Why blackberry poems? Because of this section of the novel, which helps characterize Sal's mother so beautifully:

One morning when I awoke very early, I saw my mother walking up the hill to the barn. Mist hung about the ground, finches were singing in the oak tree beside the house, and there was my mother, her pregnant belly sticking out in front of her. She was strolling up the hill, swinging her arms and singing...  

As she approached the corner of the barn where the sugar maple stands, she plucked a few blackberries from a stray bush and popped them into her mouth. She looked all around her-back at the house, across the fields, and up into the canopy of branches overhead. She took several quick steps up to the trunk of the maple, threw her arms around it, and kissed that tree soundly.

Later that day, I examined this tree trunk... I looked up at where her mouth must have touched the trunk. I probably imagined this, but I thought I could detect a small dark stain, as from a blackberry kiss.

Creech takes this moment and builds the blackberry kiss into a symbol that runs through the rest of the novel.

I have three delicious blackberry poems.

1. Read "Blackberrying" by Sylvia Plath at the Poetry Foundation

2. Listen to "Blackberry Eating" by Galway Kinnell

3. A poem I share with my elementary school students is "Blackberrying" by Crescent Dragonwagon. This poem appears in the (sadly, out of print) anthology FOOD FIGHT: Poets Join the Fight against Hunger with Poems to Favorite Foods. I am only sharing a portion of the poem here, but I hope you will get a copy of the book and read the entire poem.

Available at ABEBooks.Com
Great for teaching food poems!

Blackberrying

by Crescent Dragonwagon

the green arched bramble branches hung thick

with blue-black berries,

summer Christmas trees,

catching at us, we bent to pick

(and only our backs got sunburned)

catching at us, scratching (and we got mosquito-bit too)

now there's a shelf full of blackberry jam

and that night, pie

next winter it will be cold

we will spread that sharp sweet dark

on breakfast toast

and think we remember what hot really felt like

Enjoy the rest of August and the last of the season's blackberries.

Do you have an idea for Summer Reads: Chapter & Verse? I'm still looking for guest bloggers. The series will continue until summer ends on Monday, September 22. For more information, find a full explanation of this series and a sample Chapter & Verse pairing at this post.

In Residence: Open House

Happy Poetry Friday! It's a perfect day for the Northfield Elementary poetry open house.

I am serving up a few more third grade food poems for the special occasion.

But for starters, head over to Diane's blog, to enjoy some Random Noodling. Diane is this week's host. She'll be serving up a pot luck of tasty poetry links from the Poetry Friday regulars.

Promise not to fill up on noodles at Diane's blog.
We've got a few more courses to go.

If it's a beautiful day, maybe we will celebrate all of the third graders wonderful poems outdoors, with a picnic.

Picnic
by Hannah S.

Today we went on a picnic
to go see the cherry blossoms.
We heard the birds chirping
and the soft breeze ruffling my hair.
We found a good spot to lay the blanket
so we could all eat lunch.
As I caught a whiff of flowers blossoming,
I tasted tomatoes
and I felt the juice trickling down my chin.
After lunch, I ate a cookie, crunch, crunch.
As we left, I said goodbye to the birds
while I walked away towards my house.

What's a picnic without burgers? Good thing Henry brought some to our poetry open house.

Hamburgers Are the Best
by Henry  H.

I hear my dad calling my sisters and me in for dinner.
I see my dad bring the big cheese
and regular burgers in.
I run straight to my spot at the table.
The juiciness of the hamburger makes my mouth water.
I hear the prayers finish and I dig in.
My dad always makes his burgers
for the first day of spring.
I feel the warm bun in my hand.
I always love the smell of the melted cheese.
Burgers are always the best!

The best part about a picnic is sampling the foods your friends bring -- specialties and traditional dishes from their families. Jonathan shares one of those foods with us.

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by Jonathan W.

In the oven,
I see a lovely brown duck,
who has been hung for over a day.
Oil and sauce drops on the plate,
now serving on the table.
Steam is rising in the room, smelling like duck.
Eating the flesh, which is tender, tasty,
juicy enough.
Eating the skin too,
my favorite part,
because it is oily, very oily,
so I slurp it in  my mouth,
sucking the oil off of it,
crispy like a chip.
Getting another piece,
and another...
unfortunately...
it's ALL GONE!!

If you're still hungry when you get home from the picnic, join Manomay for a simple, but delicious snack at home.

Cheese and Omelet Sandwich
by Manomay

Every week, when I come back from school,
me, my dad, and my mom make a melted soft cheese
and omelet sandwich.
I can see yolk turning into an omelet.
After a while, we put the cheese on the omelet,
then I put the bread on.
We flip it and put on another bread.
We take if off the pan and I like the soft bread.
Then we all EAT, EAT, EAT.

Still hungry? There are more food poems from earlier this week here and here.

Thanks for celebrating with  me and the Northfield third grade poets. After the open house, I have a few more student pocket poems to share -- hopefully, with photos from our poetry event.

In Residence: Eating Dessert First

Good morning, Poets!

The Northfield third graders are still enjoying a poetry feast. For today's post, let's live wild and free by eating dessert first. Then we'll enjoy our main course.

If you'd like to read more about my food poems workshop for elementary schoolers, read this post.

I enjoyed Audrey and Jonathan's poems because, in each one, the quick rhythm and tumbling of words conveys how much the speaker enjoys eating. Both poets are using rhythm to create an exciting/excited tone.

Dessert first!

Chocolate 
by Audrey L.

The creamy chocolate in my mouth
melting slowly, piece by piece,
shaped as squares, smooth by touch.
I see the milky brown as you take a bite.
Smells like cocoa but much sweeter.
I hear you crunch upon the brown squares
while I suck on the chocolate.
When we're finished, we ask for more
and if we get some, we clap for joy.
What a good snack that chocolate was.

Dessert first? I admit to having hot chocolate
for breakfast this morning.

Main course...

Great Noodles
by Jonathan

The sizzling noise.
Looks like worms.
Tastes like heaven.
Come to dinner.
Eat them fast.
Eat them when they're hot.
Get the forks and knives.
Side dishes everywhere.
The same smell always.
Hear it sloshing in the pot.
Eating seconds and thirds
until there's no more.

We'll have more poetic treats tomorrow as the third graders prepare for their poetry open house. Parents, families, and friends will be joining us for a poetry celebration tomorrow afternoon.

Thanks to Audrey and Jonathan's families for giving me permission to post their poems today.

In Residence: Hungry for Poetry

It's field hockey night at the Shovan household. Julia and I won't get in until after 8 pm, so dinner is on the fly. The guys usually grab pizza on their way home. If us girls are lucky, there are a few slices leftover for us.

Every time he's in  Hoboken, my husband visits
Benny Tudino's, famous for it's giant slices of pizza.
On a recent trip, our son got to meet Benny himself!

As you can see, food is never simple. There is often a story behind the things we eat. It might be a tradition, like turkey on Thanksgiving, or it might be necessity, such as having to plan around a teenager's sports practice. Today, I'm sharing student food poems that revolve around restaurants.

When the Northfield third graders and I worked on food poems, we talked about the stories behind our meals. I asked students to aim for seven elements in their poems. Initially, we looked at the five senses -- so that we were thinking beyond how a food tastes:

1-5: Use your five senses to describe the food
1. Taste (texture, flavor)
2. Smell (connected to taste)
3. See
4. Touch (with fingers, in mouth)
5. Hear (cooking sounds, eating sounds -- opportunity for onomatopoeia)

Next, we like to include two important narrative elements.

6-7: Tell a story around your food
6. Setting (where are you?)
7. Characters/People (who are you with?)

BONUS: Include an onomatopoeia word

Our model poem for this lesson is "Good Hotdogs," by Sandra Cisneros. Here is the poem read by a student from the Wingra School in Wisconsin, which I found on YouTube.

I hope you're hungry! Here are today's third grade food poems.

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by Christopher W.

I just was at the Y,
now I am driving over
to McDonald's.
My mom goes through
the drive through.

The cheeseburger
in the wrapper
is warm. I see
the brown bun,
the yellow cheese,
the red ketchup,
and the brown meat.

Burritos
by Dustin S.

Go, go, go!
We're almost there.
Coming down the highway
and, Oh!
We just pulled up.
Ahhh... Chipotle.
The line all the way back
to the cash register.
It takes 25-30 minutes to order
but WOW! It's worth it.
Burritos!
Chicken, rice, corn,
lettuce, tomato.
I love burritos!

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by Claire W.

Warm, sunny evenings, my stomach growling loudly,
I fling open the door with a slam.
My dad follows me to the car. Beep!
I go in and see my familiar face in the mirror.
With a vroom, we head off to Red Lobster.
I walk to the restaurant door and into my nose
the wonderful scent of delicious food makes me drool!
I order this pizza with vegetables on top. It's good!
But one thing comes before -- the bread.
It's baked perfectly. Golden, crunchy layers,
brown bottoms. It tastes like heaven!
I choose the top and it crunches around in my mouth,
fresh made! Clang! The plate on the table,
my order steaming hot. It disappears in a couple of bites.
My stomach is pleased with my decisions.
My dad bundles up the leftovers for tomorrow afternoon.
We leave, and I feel a warm sensation tingling in my throat.

Thanks, Northfield poets and families for allowing me to share these wonderful food poems. I'll have more delicious verse for you tomorrow.

Lemon Meringue Margarita: 2014 Poetry Project

Yes, Writerly Friends, it is real. Lemon Meringue Margarita is not just a mash-up of our Day 15 Pantone® Poetry colors...

Day 15 Lemon Meringue
Pantone ®  12-0771

Day 15 Margarita
Pantone ®  14-0116

...it is an actual pie. And I have the recipe.

Find the recipe for
Refrigerator Lemon Margarita Pie
at All Recipes. (Yes, it calls for tequila.)

All this month, I invite you to write in response to a series of Pantone®  paint colors. How does the project work? Read about it here.

If the pie picture doesn't make your mouth water, Linda Baie's poem will.

County Fair

By Linda Baie

lemon meringue pie

anticipating

the knife

slipping

down

down

through the peaks oven-browned

slicing that snowy inside,

spatula lifting the piece

onto the paper plate,

the fork cutting one bite.

Mouth-melting Himalayas,

judged

best of show,

blue ribbon

for ecstasy.

Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved

Don't you love those Himalayan peaks of meringue?

Diane Mayr's pie tells a story. Unlike wine, a good chili, and some chocolate cakes, lemon meringue pie does not age well.

Lemon Meringue Pie
by Diane Mayr

Day one:
Lemon meringue
its waves of egg white
brown and upstanding,
crust with a crunch,
lemon curd firm & tart.

Day two:
Lemon meringue
waves collapsing,
crust sodden & soggy,
its lemon weeping for
what the eater missed.

Day three:
Lemon meringue
its allure now elusive.

My lemon meringue poem isn't about pie, but it does have a little bite.

Miniature Iris

By Laura Shovan

Its leaves dagger through ground,

then parts, splits sharp green lips.

Inside a bud as big as my thumb,

mere mouthful of lemon meringue

which opens, as irises do, to show

its frothy, egg white tongue.

Spring brings us a beautiful combination of
yellow miniature irises and the purple
creeping phlox you see in the background.

I was hoping someone would write in response to Margarita, a name too tasty to resist.

Poet and geographer Michael Ratcliffe didn't let me down. He writes, “It was a bit too early on Sunday to have a margarita, so I read about the drink's history instead. Quite a fascinating and mysterious history, with no agreement on its origins. The multiple locations in which the drink was supposedly invented provided the basis for my poem. Here's what flowed:”

HER NAME WAS MARGARITA

By Michael Ratcliffe

Her name was Margarita,
and she danced atop the bar
at the Rancho La Gloria,
between Tijuana and Rosarito.
She was all the rage in Baja.

Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.

I saw her next in Ensenada—
Hussong’s Cantina, if I remember.
She and I danced the merengue.
When I told her that I loved her,
all she said was "de nada."

Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.

At Tommy’s Place in El Paso,
before I shipped out from Fort Bliss,
we drank tequila in the shadows.
They said she was a German spy.
She told me she was Swiss.

Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.

At the Balinese in Galveston,
she teased me with her games.
It was there she drove me crazy,
then said her name was Daisy,
and she really came from Ames.

Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.

Author Amok is non-alcoholic. I know you don't mind,
as long as I serve these Citrus-Iced Mock Margarita Bars
from Very Best Baking.

Has your sweet tooth had enough tang and bang after today's citrus tones? Day 16's colors are more mistletoe than lemon lime.

Day 16 Jolly Green
Pantone ®  18-6030

Day 16 Cabaret
Pantone ®  18-2140

So dig those jingle bells out of their boxes, or skip the box entirely and buck the assumption that red + green = Christmas. I can't wait to see what you come up with for tomorrow.