Think...Snail

Kind of feeling like everyone might be feeling a little like this...or maybe at some point in your life you have. Such a busy time, busy thoughts, busy...busy. What more is there to say.

Two Writing Teachers Stacey and Ruth host the Slice of Life!

Slowing down my thinking

as words swirl in and pool

I drown in thoughts and feel their drag

as under currents pull

I will them to surrender

I wish them not to stay

I fight against erosion

but words don’t wash away

Their waves roll in like thunder

Though silent unto you

Like beating drums inside me

Vibration can’t undo

No fibers can divide them

No sun to dry them out

No better way to spite them

than better words to sprout

Winter Memories

Elizabeth Steinglass is our Poetry Friday host on this early day in May. 

I attempted to write a poem using the starter, "wanting memories." It is from a song that my husband sings around the house and constantly has in his head (therefore it is in my head as well).

However, wanting memories soon became winter memories.

Winter memories 

replaced with blooms

puddles pinked

with sunset hues

~Betsy

As you can see my poem has been chalked in celebration of a very fun week with fellow chalkers. If you have a moment you can check out the other chalk poets who contributed to CHALK-A-BRATION 2013. If you have a hankering for dusty palms join in on May 31st!

I Think in Poems

Two Writing Teachers
Go get some inspiration.








I almost always get ideas when I am in the car for slices, poems, school work, student next steps all those things that swirl in our heads. Maybe it is the scenary. I have a beautiful drive. Maybe it is me trying to block out the, "he's touching me...she's poking me" that is inevitable in my tiny Matrix.

My point. I realized today that when I am in writing mode I begin to think in poems. I was asked what I was thinking the other day and I wrote what I was thinking...it was a poem. Unintentional. I am now writing poems without intention, hmmm, I think that might be the best kind.
People (not a lot mind you), in the blog world have said, "you should publish your poems." I can't say I have no desire to do this but my poems are for me and obviously the people I share them with here. However the idea of publishing is sort of exotic isn't it? It is like that thing that you can't touch because it might go extinct or get damaged if you mess with it. I wonder if I got published if I would feel my poems like I feel them when I just write them for me. I wonder.
Then as I pondered this thought, I wondered, what would the name of my book be? Immediate answer, I THINK IN POEMS. I love the title of my non-existent book. It is me.
Then I realized that every title has to have a poem that goes with it, well, at least I think it should.
So, I wrote two versions of my title poem.

I think in poems

They swirl

They spring

I think in poems

Words brought

Words bring

A sense of wonder

Will, I weep

I think in poems

In slumber deep

I think in poems

In slumber deep

I think in poems

They swirl

And bring

A sense of wonder

Will

I weep

I think in poems

Words to keep.

I kind of think there is a better version somewhere out there that combines these two sets of words in a better way. But for now, this is what I got. Happy poetry month. 

We have had so much rain I haven't been able to chalk. Maybe this week...fingers crossed. However, I do hope you will chalk a poem with me on April 30th here and link it so others may enjoy your CHALK-A-BRATION too.

What, what did you say, you want to know what CHALK-A-BRATION is...click here!

Sixty Degrees and A Little Chalk

Every year on the first school day of 60 degree weather following winter I take coatless kids outside to play with chalk and bubbles. Literally, we stop what we are doing, I announce it is 60 degrees, kids cheer, I cheer and we pack up the equipment and go. It is always a blast and I always look forward to that day. Seeing the faces of so many happy bubble popping, blowing, chalking happiness.

I would like to invite all you slicers out there to join me and my students on April 30th for the second year of Chalk-A-Bration. It is an event anyone can join as long as there is chalk involved. Chalk a poem, drawing, anything appropriate and link it here at Teaching Young Writers! For more info see last years post with the details here! I hope to see you there and your chalky love. :)

A Summer Dream

After a week off I am now dreaming about summer. I care deeply about my students and enjoy watching them bloom in the springtime but I am really looking forward to the mental break. Every time I am in a summer dream this is what I picture. It is so calm. So clear. So peaceful. I am dreaming of serenity today. 

Sunlight fades into

warm shadows.

My fingers dance in earth’s lake laced breath

as sand mists against my legs

and I sink in the endless dune.

In a squint

my smile breathes

as the orange pink light waves to me.

A moment.

I pause and watch the last sliver slip

and darkness takes the day.

There, I crouch

at my altar

laying vows

committed to myself.

Thank you Stacey for acknowledging me in the call for slices today.

A Notebook Poetry Slice

I went on a hunt in my notebook today. I found this entry from January. I decided to take it, change the tone a bit but use a few of the lines.

flowing white

princess bright

from dark to light

our hearts ignite

show me the way

to the vaporizing fires

and may love burn on

in our lives forever

The host on this lovely Poetry Friday in March is Mary Lee at A Year of Reading.

And...Why not slice up a poem for today's Slice of Life Challenge with Stacey and Ruth at Two Writing Teachers.

Lost Dog

We lost our dog in the woods tonight. He ran right past me as I opened the door to go see my husband. It was cold. Dark. Silent. I thought, he'll come right back. My husband said, "Did you put on his leash?" Well...wasn't really planning on him coming with me, so, NO! I went and got the leash. He took it and said, "I'll find him." And he disappeared into the dark too. I kept hearing him calling. I stood in the middle of our backyard a bit helpless, waiting. Listening to all the crackling and wondering, can he see anything? Should I go back in the house? Will he come to the front door somehow getting around the other houses? I stood, motionless. Then it got quiet. No more calling out. Relief.

Lost in the night

you were

Alone in the dark

you were

Crackling your feet

you were

A ghost in the trees

you were

I CALLED OUT if

you were

Coming back to me, you were.