A Very Special Author

originally posted in March 2007; originally published in WSRA Journal in 1997

When we were young
And could pick up a book,
A man with a gift
Made us all take a look

At a cat with a mission,
A feline with style,
Dressed up in a hat
With a hint of beguile.

The cat made us smile,
The Grinch brought a tear.
While the Whos down in Whoville
Inspired a cheer.

Those red fish and blue fish
Or green eggs and ham
The Star Bellied Sneetches
And that Sam-I-Am

The poor little boy
Wearing five hundred hats
Got caught in the oobleck
That fell and went splat.

His stories had morals,
Were strong with conviction,
Even though written
As young readers’ fiction.

A clear point of view,
The compassion he saw,
Like”…a person’s a person,
No matter how small.”

The elephant Horton
Who said what he meant,
That he could be faithful,
One hundred percent.

And think of the Lorax,
The one who said, “Please,
Oh, Please stop destroying
The Truffula Trees!”

His creatures were special,
Both comic and tragic,
Some small and some large,
With an aura of magic.

Think of the characters,
Ageless and timeless,
And how he could make
Something rhyme that seemed rhymeless!

The point of my story,
I’m sure you have reckoned,
Someone quite special
Was born on March second.

Creator of Yertle,
And Thidwick the Moose,
A talent unequaled:
The dear Dr. Seuss.

Teachers can do and teach, too.

I wrote this to demonstrate/model the Acrostic Poem form for my class. They had brainstormed words pertaining to the citizenship theme of “compassion” and were preparing to write acrostic poems on the theme.
For a piece created spontaneously in front of an audience, it’s not bad.

Across each line
Contains words or phrases
Rarely (really, almost never) rhymes
Only use words that make
Sense.
To write an acrostic,
It helps to think about
Compassion.
Poetry has many forms.
Others are Haiku, verse, and Cinquain.
Enjoy these examples.
Maybe you’ll like this one!

Recipe for Another Successful School Year

a co-op poem created by sixth grade students during their first week of school

Start with one gingerbread school with a chocolate bar roof.
Add gingerbread teachers.
Put in desks, chairs, and sugar cookie books.
Spray with sticky notes, cinnamon rolls, and caramel lunch money.
Slice and dice with scissors.
Mix the books with folders and cooks.
Drop in a couple of gym shoes.
Sprinkle with school supplies.
Deep fry all ingredients.

Spread some eagerness.

Place gingerbread kiddos in desks.
Fill the backpacks with goodies.
Frost with glue and chocolate chip cookies.

Serve with friends.

Recipe for a Successful School Year

a co-op poem created by sixth grade students during their first week of school

First, place nice teachers in a bowl.
Add well-behaved students.
Fill desks with pencils, markers, scissors, colored pencils, paper, and folders.
Add a couple brains and a Tablespoon of friendship. Add some kindness.
Combine with math facts.
Stir into full desk.
Bake for a year. Take out of oven.
Cut into 30 pieces. Sprinkle with focus.
Serve to 30 people and
Enjoy!

A Very Special Author

When we were young
And could pick up a book,
A man with a gift
Made us all take a look

At a cat with a mission,
A feline with style,
Dressed up in a hat
With a hint of beguile.

The cat made us smile,
The Grinch brought a tear.
While the Whos down in Whoville
Inspired a cheer.

Those red fish and blue fish
Or green eggs and ham
The Star Bellied Sneetches
And that Sam-I-Am

The poor little boy
Wearing five hundred hats
Got caught in the oobleck
That fell and went splat.

His stories had morals,
Were strong with conviction,
Even though written
As young readers’ fiction.

A clear point of view,
The compassion he saw,
Like”…a person’s a person,
No matter how small.”

The elephant Horton
Who said what he meant,
That he could be faithful,
One hundred percent.

And think of the Lorax,
The one who said, “Please,
Oh, Please stop destroying
Tha Truffula Trees!”

His creatures were special,
Both comic and tragic,
Some small and some large,
With an aura of magic.

Think of the characters,
Ageless and timeless,
And how he could make
Something rhyme that seemed rhymeless!

The point of my story,
I’m sure you have reckoned,
Someone quite special
Was born on March second.

Creator of Yertle,
And Thidwick the Moose,
A talent unequaled:
The dear Dr. Seuss.

Stealing Headlines

In attempt to make sense out of the recent shocking news, I “borrowed” headlines from articles covering the two school shootings this week. The two events are interspersed in pantoume form so that some headlines could apply to either one.
I’m not satisfied with this poem at all; maybe these incidents aren’t supposed to make sense.

Principal targeted
In second school shooting this week
Innocence lost
Small town unaccustomed to tragedy.

In second school shooting this week
Details of attack emerge
Small town unaccustomed to tragedy
Mourns victim killed in siege.

Details of attack emerge
Another campus shooting
Mourns victim killed in siege
Teen charged in school shooting.

Another campus shooting
Hostage sent love to her family
Teen charged in school shooting
Hero prevented more deaths.

Hostage sent love to her family
Vigil held to mourn
Hero prevented more deaths
Died after shooting.

Vigil held to mourn
A victim used as a shield
Died after shooting
Critical condition.

A victim used as a shield
Principal targeted
Critical condition
Innocence lost.

How I Write

Personal reflection on writing poetry

I write what I think.
I write what I feel.
I write with a pen on loose leaf paper
or in the tiny spiral notebook pulled from my purse.
I write on my laptop computer
-outside on the deck
-on the couch in the den
-at the kitchen table
-in the backseat of the family van on the highway
I write to organize and clarify my thoughts
I write down the bones, the beginnings
then I revise with Xs and arrows and notes
written vertically in the margins
I write best with a structure
or goal in mind.
Random doesn’t work for me.
Leaving rhyme behind was hard; its structure was comforting, familiar
So I challenged myself with other structures
that let me grow
My angle is more literal than metaphoric — often more prosaic than poetic.
Reality checks in more often than fantasy.
I write from my heart, but not too much,
Because if I write about those closest to me
It can hurt,
So I don’t look inward as often as I could.
I write for me.
Though others might enjoy the pieces on occasion.
I don’t write for the masses.
I write what I think.
I write what I feel.
I write for me.