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.

Untitled

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!!

Untitled

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.

Untitled

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.

Scenes from an Open House

Happy Poetry Friday and greetings from Gettysburg! This week, I'm attending the Gettysburg Review Conference for Writers, meeting great poets and studying with the wonderful Sidney Wade. (Check out her poem "Late.")

This week, my Northfield Poets celebrated their authorly accomplishments with an open house. Parents, grandparents, family and friends came to school to check out the great work.

Here are some photos from the event, along with a few more of the Northfield third graders' portrait poems.

Portrait poems on display in Ms. Hilliard's room.

Find the poem "The Adventurer" at this post.

Reading poems in Ms. Tavenner's room.

Poems on display in Ms. Pruitt's room.

Remember my last post, when we were talking about the way writing a portrait poem teaches compassion and empathy? I love how Gracie stepped out of her third grade experience to write this cosmopolitan, emotional poem.

Gracie F.

The Note to My Husband

With my hand on my chin, I think about my husband far, far away in California while I’m in Paris. I write to him, eat my lunch. I reach for my purse when I write to him how much I miss him. The waiter rushes past me to make a meal for a man in a top hat. I finish my note to my husband in California and I’m in Paris, France. Oh, how I miss him.

Although she wrote in response to the same work of art, the woman is Ellie's poem has a more active character. I wonder what the speaker is going to write about.

Ellie M.

Can’t Think of Anything

I’m sitting at a booth at the diner

On the corner of Mulberry Street.

I’ve had some wine, a whole glass in fact,

And still can’t think of anything.

My blonde hair in a bun, also

My black dress and lace cuffs.

Have to get the poem done

Before the ball.

A light bulb has gone off in my brain.

I think I’ll go pay the bill

And go home, but oh,

I just thought of something to write.

Phillip wrote in response to a Shonto Begay illustration that we've seen before. (The werewolf poems were among the most popular at our open  house.)

Phillip W.

Mysteries at Night

Night holds many mysteries

I am turning into a werewolf

It is midnight

I am not happy about it

I am changing fast

I was forced to be a werewolf

I will look for a meal

I will join a pack

I will howl at the moon

I will find a home

I will miss being a human

Now darkness is my friend

I sleep during the day

I have to go

I think the pack sees me.

And here is how my day ended, with gorgeous pink roses to add to the peonies from my garden. The smaller flowers are called Coral Bells.

Thanks for another great year of poetry, Northfield ES!

Today's Poetry Friday host is my dear friend Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference. Have fun recharging your poetry batteries with some great offerings today.

Who Am I This Time?: More Portrait Poems

School is winding down! How do I know? Over the last few weeks, the energy level at Northfield Elementary, where I have been in residence, has gone into high gear. The students are excited about field day, the end of school, and our Poets Open House on Tuesday.

The Mad Hatter recites a poem.

When I read the children's portrait poems (find out more about the lesson here), I always think of Kurt Vonnegut's short story, "Who Am I This Time?" To simplify the story, a shy man finds strength by "trying on" bold characters through his small town community theater. I read the story years ago. It stuck with me because of the paradoxical notion that we can learn something about ourselves by acting like someone else.

This is, in fact, one of my favorite aspects of the portrait poem lesson. By writing in the voice of a stranger (observed in a work of fine art or a photograph), these young poets stretched beyond their third-grade selves.

Buy this robot mask at Etsy.

Although it is heavy, I love the tone of Delaney's poem. She captures the complicated emotions of her character.

Delaney R.

The Old Lady

The old lady sitting in the chair thinking of her dark, dark secret. Her life like a whisper when her husband walked out the door. Maybe, maybe he will come back. All she sees is a tan colored wall, but in her head she sees flashbacks of life. Good thoughts and bad thoughts. All she does is think. She is in the dark, all alone, waiting, waiting for something to happen… that something will never happen. She stays in her house her whole life. She is sad, lonely and tired. The elderly woman has had a hard life.

In contrast, Abbi's poem is about a woman totally in charge of her life. Look for the surreal moment -- it communicates the woman's power and beauty.

Abigail D.

The Adventure

The woman standing,

holding the buffalo.

The woman controls

the clouds. They open

above her to give

her the spotlight.

She is thinking

of writing in her

journal about her

adventure.

Christopher wrote in response to an illustration in a picture book. This Place I Know: Poems of Comfort, edited by Stephanie J. Block, was put together after the September 11 terrorist attacks. Our poet didn't know that, but I find this poem to be both comforting and lyrical.

Christopher G.

Guardians of the Sky

I see me flying.

I see the clouds.

I can see birds chirping at me.

I am wearing my hat.

I am flying with the geese.

I imagine that I am a goose.

I imagine that I am a pilot.

I am helping them migrate.

I am a cloud.

We are migrating to the moon.

Find Block's "This Place I Know" CD at Amazon.

Thanks again to Northfield ES for allowing me to post the students' work. I'll share more portrait poems, some food poems, and finish up with a report on our Poets Open House.

Portrait Poetry Friday: Starting with What's Real

One of my favorite workshops for elementary and middle schoolers is on portrait poems. (You can read a "poem walk" though the model poem, Shonto Begay's "Down Highway 163" here.)

The poem and painting "Down Highway 163" are featured
in Begay's book Navajo.

Writing a portrait poem requires a lot of imagination. For the third graders, who are still developing a sense of self, speaking in someone else's voice can be a challenge. What's been working for my students, I think, is providing structure for their imaginations. How?

1. Someone to look at.

I ask the teachers to gather fine art portraits from the art room for the lesson. I also bring in picture books with drawings -- mainly realistic -- of children. After we discuss Shonto Begay's portrait and accompanying poem, both titled "Down Highway 163," the classroom teacher and I put the images up around the room. Students quietly walk through our makeshift gallery, deciding which portrait they want to write about. Having an image in front of them provides structure -- tangible details to record in the poem.

2. Starting with what's real.

When we talked about the painting "Down Highway 163" as a whole class, I split our discussion into two parts. First, we listed the facts of the painting -- the things we could actually see. No guessing was allowed. There is a bag or sack in the painting. Fact. Do we know what's in it? No -- we put that kind of imagining on hold until we have all our facts.

Once we've exhausted the details of the painting, the class begins generating stories. The time for "I see" is over. Now we explore what we imagine. Who is the person in the painting? Where is she going and why? How is she feeling? What's in the sack? What happens next.

This painting by Leonardo da Vinci was one of the portraits
the children could choose.

When it's time to write, the students who need organization can make a t-chart. On one side, they'll write "I see" and list all of the things they observe in the painting or picture book image they chose. On the other side of the chart is space for "I imagine." Sometimes, I compare this to looking at the image as if it were a DVD on pause. If you hit the play button, what would happen next?

Last, I reminded students that they had an important choice to make, as poets. Did they want to narrate the poem, writing in third person and describing the story? Or would it be more effective to write in the voice of the character, the person in the portrait?

Here are some of the third grade portrait poems. You'll notice that a few students used their knowledge of stanzas (from the opposites poems lesson) to separate the "I See" elements from what they imagined about their subjects.

A student from Ms. Grim's class borrowed my Shonto Begay book, Navajo, intrigued by an image that shows a man transforming into a werewolf.

Wolf Man

After a painting by Shonto Begay

I am a sad guy without a shirt in the day time. Each hour of night I will change hairier and hairier, hungrier and hungrier. Then I get blood thirsty. Now I am the hairy beast of the woods. Attacking deer and bunnies, I go. Shredding the skin with my hard and sharp teeth. It’s getting to daytime. I am back to the shirtless me again, but lying on the grass and not knowing what happened. All I know is I like being back to a man.

Malia chose a picture from the art room. This was an artist's self-portrait, showing him painting en plein air.

Malia K.

I’m painting with my

favorite apron on.

My brushes flow smoothly over the canvas.

My blue shirt is soft to my skin.

I love painting still life,

especially the forest.

It’s very quiet. Too quiet.

I jump as a rabbit pops out of the bushes.

I look at all the animals and start to paint.

When I finish, I look at it and think…

I LOVE NATURE!

Hunter's fine art portrait was of a young boy. The portrait was close up, with a simple, dark background. Our poet had to stretch to imagine the boy's story.

Hunter M.

I see hair,

a green shirt

and a hat,

blue eyes.

I see that he is young

and I see a mouth.

He is staring at a bird

because the bird

is feeding her babies.

He is feeling interested

because he has never seen

a bird feeding its babies.

Hannah also chose a fine art portrait. This one was of a girl. Hannah used the I See (stanza 1) /I Imagine (stanzas 2 & 3) strategy for her poem.

Hannah L.

The Dress-up Girl

I am a little black girl

wearing a white frilly dress.

A necklace hangs from my neck.

A bracelet hangs from my wrist.

I have dark brown eyes.

I throw down my book, losing my page.

I change into my favorite dress.

I am supposed to read, but I don’t.

My necklace flies over my head.

My bracelet slides onto my wrist.

I am the dress-up girl.

Oh, no! Mom has come.

She looks disappointed.

I hang my head with a slight frown.

I am in trouble but it was worth it.

I am the dress-up girl.

I can't remember which painting Cole used for his poem, but the poem stands alone. Once again, you can see how stanza one (I See) is a jumping off point for a powerful stanza two (I Imagine).

Cole E.

He is wearing a

brown jacket, brown

shirt with a beard

and a scar on his neck.

He is a wanted man.
He’s been running away.

He lives in the desert

or maybe the attic.

Will he get caught?

Will he get caught?

No. He keeps running

from town so he can

get a better life in

a different place, a

different time.

I was so impressed with the Northfield poets' insights into human nature. I think they impressed themselves, too! More portrait poems on Monday.

Enjoy your Poetry Friday. Ed at Think Kid, Think! is hosting the poetry party today. I see that Ed makes great use of technology on his website. I imagine Ed typing away, planning some high-tech poetry project for us to enjoy today.

Poetry Postcard 27: Save the Drama

Before the Divine Miss M,

www.bigandme.com

there was the Divine Sarah--

Fiery Women

Available from Amazon

actress Sarah Bernhardt (1844-1923). What made Bernhardt one of the Women Who Dared in my Pomegranate postcard book?

The postcard is a photograph from the Library
of Congress collection, about 1878?

Pretty much everything about her. Poem first, details after.

To Be or Sarah Bernhardt

Her real  name was Rosine.
The records of her birth
lost in a fire. So
she invented new details:
a mother named
for Judith of the Bible,
a father who was said to be
a lawyer, naval man
or sometimes an
accountant called Edouard.
She was a Jewish girl
in an Augustine convent,
not yet a star at the Conservatoire
and Comedie Francaise,
where she slapped another girl
while celebrating the birthday
of Moliere. These are some
of the costumes she wore.
In photographs, they seem
to grow heavier on her skin--
more silk ruffles
pressed against her throat,
a longer train,
a complicated crown.

Laura Shovan

I relied on Wikipedia and other sources while writing this poem. The only fact I tweaked slightly was her religion. Bernhardt was baptized a Catholic, but was of Jewish descent.

What a remarkable person. Bernhardt started, owned, ran and starred in her own theater company. She famously portrayed Hamlet (thus, my title), but I had never heard before that she rewrote Shakespeare's script for the production. That's chutzpah.

As Hamlet, 1900.  BBC  News.

One amazing fact I could not work into the poem: Sarah Bernhardt lost a leg to gangrene (first injured during a performance in 1905, amputated around 1915). For many years, she wore and performed with a prosthetic leg.

But what I found most fascinating about Bernhardt was that she seemed to view herself as a scripted character. Her own history was something to be revised, rewritten, made more interesting. A photograph taken in her youth shows the actress clothed in a simple sheet of fabric.

By Carol Ockman

As she grew older, the costumes appear weightier. They are jeweled and embroidered. I wonder how much it cost her to be that Sarah Bernhardt.

Painting by Louise Abbema, rumored to be Bernhardt's lover.
Abbema would also make a great subject for a poem.

Poetry Friday: The President Looks Like Me

Happy pre-election Poetry Friday!

I've been counting down to election week all month with poet Tony Medina's books for children. His latest is The President Looks Like Me and Other Poems, which will be out in 2013. I'm taking that as a good sign for the next four years.

My past posts featured Tony's books, Love to Langston, I and I Bob Marley, and DeShawn Days.

I am so pleased to invite Dr. Tony Medina to Author Amok. Hi, Tony!

Hey, Laura!

1. What drew you to picture books and children’s poetry collections as a form?

As a child, I didn't grow up with books in my household. The only picture books I got to explore were the ones at the school library when we had class there. It wasn't until I was an adult that I grew fascinated by children's books. I was taken by the marriage between art and text, as well as the progressive messages in the stories and poems I encountered.

I also was inspired by the wide-ranging work Langston Hughes had published. He not only wrote for adults, but children as well. (Note: Baltimore Blogger Ariel S. Winter has done a series on Hughes' children's books.)

I wanted to do that as well. I had grown disillusioned with what I perceived to be a lack of seriousness with writers and poets of my generation in NYC and I felt I needed to spend my time communicating with a younger generation.

I also felt compelled to bring the stories and images of young people of color and those from disadvantaged communities to the forefront of American children's and young adult literature. There had been books out there, but they were mostly speaking from a middle class perspective. I really didn't see kids from the 'hood depicted in the scant amount of books being published by authors and illustrators of color.

This is how my first book for young readers, DeShawn Days (Lee & Low Books, 2001), was born. DeShawn Williams is a sensitive, precocious 10 year-old child from the projects talking about his life through poetry.

2. What are some of your favorite books of poetry for children?

This is really a difficult question because I love so many poetry books for young people, from collections to narratives in verse. But I'll share a few: Honey, I Love and Other Love Poems by Eloise Greenfield (with illustrations by Leo and Diane Dillon); Nikki Giovanni's Ego-Tripping and Other Poems for Young People (illustrated by George Ford), as well as her book, Spin a Soft Black Song (illustrated by George Martins); Dizzy in Your Eyes: Poems about Love by Pat Mora; Naomi Shihab Nye's A Maze Me: Poems for Girls, as well as her picture book, Come with Me: Poems for a Journey; and Gary Soto's fantastic, Neighborhood Odes.
 

 
3. I know you were involved with the anthology Hip Hop Speaks to Children, which I love. (Here is a clip of Nikki Giovanni talking about the book.) What do you think kids like to hear in a poem?

I think kids are really drawn to rhyme, rhythm, tone, color, humor and detail (specificity) in poetry. They are also drawn to poignant depictions of family, as well as struggles and triumphs in a narrator of a poem. Kids like to relate directly with a poem, as if it's coming from them. And when a poem sings, they sing.

This poem from the collection speaks to the loss of a male role model in a boy's life. It is an elegy, but it also sings. 

Uncle Pepe

Had a face

Like a dandelion

His cheeks speckled

Into a million

Gray stubbles sharp

As sandpaper sheets

Two teeth parted

By a world

Was his smile

His laughter

Brought down

A thunder

From the clouds

In his chest

He walked

The stairs

Slowly

Then after

Needed rest

When your head

Was too short

To see over

The tabletop

He’d bounce you

On his knee

Dazzle you with

Lemon and lime

Lollipops

Feed you

Cakes, cereal,

Raspberries

‘Til your face

Turned red

On this memory

And the music

In his eyes

I  am fed

Not the rainy days

Of never seeing him

Again instead 

4. Tell us about your newest book for children, The President Looks Like Me. What inspired you to write it? Why did you choose a collection of poems, rather than a verse biography about President Obama?

The President Looks Like Me and Other Poems is a collection less about President Barack Obama himself and more of a multicultural collection of poems that explore a wide-range of subjects and themes from the perspective of young people. A lot of the poems are narrated from the voice of young boys of color, which is rare.

The title poem is an example of that voice: 

The President Looks Like Me

The President looks like me

The President is brown like me

His hair is like my hair:

Tightly curled and neatly trimmed but free

He has a name like me

He plays b-ball too

He is mad cool

The President makes me

Want to stay in school

Go to college so one day

I can achieve my dreams

Make them a reality

Granddad said he could not believe

He’d live to see the day

That we would have

A Black President

When Barack Obama

Put his hand on the Bible

During his inauguration

On that coldest of the coolest day

I saw a tear in my

Granddad’s eye

A smile so wide

It made me want to fly

nytimes.com

 Many heavy issues are explored, such as hip hop, language, gun violence, fatherlessness, issues of identity, love, the seasons, food, church , family, friendship and humor. 

The book also has poetry prompts and forms (from haiku and tanka to odes and the sonnet) that would be useful for young readers wishing to write their own poems. It consists of 44 poems in 6 sections with a poetry forms and prompts addendum, as well as a list of vocabulary words and historical, pop culture and musical references. 

The cover is a dynamic original collage created by the artist Mansa K. Mussa.

I am really excited about those prompts, Tony. Arts educators like me, who do poetry residencies in the schools, love new resources and writing prompts.

5. The President Looks Like Me will be published by Just Us Books, a publisher of black-interest books for children. How do you think Barack Obama’s presidency has affected children of color? How did you hope to reflect that in your book?

The President Looks Like Me and Other Poems is meant to empower all children, but particularly young people of color who see in the first African American President the possibilities for their own hopes and dreams and aspirations to achieve in our culture.

6. Bonus Question: What are you working on next, for kids?

I have a few projects I have had on the back burner due to prior book project commitments that I wish to get back to. But I don't want to jinx myself and speak about them now. I'm still wresting with the muse on these manuscripts. I'll just say that I have not abandoned my undying love of poetry in these works-in-progress. Hopefully, I'll be able to give birth to them and they'll be able to grow wings and make their way in the world.

Here is one more poem from The President Looks Like Me to savor over the weekend:

Buttery biscuits from Grandmaskitchen.com

 

Sundays

Sundays we go to church

Mama wakes me early

I wash and

Put on my dress clothes

My shiny patent leather shoes

Mama cooks a light breakfast

‘Cause after church we really

Throw down with baked chicken

Mac and cheese big buttery biscuits

Piles of mashed potato and black-eyed peas

With peach cobbler and sweet potato pie

Tastes so sweet it makes you cry—

Hallelujah!

Sundays we go to church

I sing in the choir

We stand behind our pastor

He gives his sermon that inspires

Us to do good things for other people

Which is called God’s work

The congregation says—

Amen!

Mr. Russel plays his piano

My sister sings her sweet solo

Hands raise up in the air

My auntie and our neighbor Miss Rosie

Get the Holy Ghost

Everybody shouts—

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Amen!

My stomach starts to grumble

My nose catches the Holy Spirit

Of all that yummy smelling soul food

The pastor says, Let us all eat!

Come share in this bountiful feast…

My tummy shouts out

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

 

Selections from The President Looks Like Me and Other Poems posted with permission of Tony Medina. All rights reserved.

Tony Medina is the author/editor of a number of books for adults and young readers, the most recent of which are I and I, Bob Marley; My Old Man Was Always on the Lam (finalist for the Paterson Poetry Award); Broke on Ice; An Onion of Wars; and The President Looks Like Me and Other Poems. He is Professor of Creative Writing at Howard University.

Have a wonderful Poetry Friday, everyone. This week's host is Mainely Write.