I Remember…

I remember breezy early summer mornings; the bright seasonal sun shining through the leaves on the front sidewalk.

I remember the smell of the fresh paint of our Raggedy Ann and Andy themed room. Blue, red, white.

I remember waking for a middle of the night snack of mom’s fried chicken; two thieves in the night.

I remember family t.v. night crammed together on the back porch; sitting on the circular rainbow colored rug hugged by Nana’s crocheted blanket.

I remember the white bread sandwiches cut into triangles I ate in grampa’s kitchen for the last time; the rest of the family was attending his funeral.  

I remember sitting in the wood paneled station wagon for what seemed like an eternity as my parents bought our new home; bigger yard, better neighborhood, fresh start. 

I remember the first day at my new school, powder blue pleated skirt and nylons; a 4th grader teased me.

I remember the end of the summer block party where we met friends with whom we’d share years of childhood memories.

I remember graduations with new dresses, new shoes and tassels dangling in my face. 

I remember the tearful goodbye as I embarked into adulthood at the university.

I remember an entire new set of memories; new friends, drinks, parties, laughter and tears.

20 years remembered in a mere page.

 

Advertisements

Chipmunk

chirping chipmunk

sounds like chip, chip, chip

sounds like sharp and short

sounds like right out the window

grapes, they eat

grapes, they steal

sounds like jellyfish; the sound squirms from the yard into my inner ear

disc jockey’s voice is annoying like the chipmunk chirp

sounds like an alarm clock during my summer break

my lake is their home

peanut butter can be put on a trap to catch the chipmunk

orchestra; sometimes there are so many  in the neighborhood chirping as a song

ducks add their own accompanyment to the opus from my yard

love I do not the early morning chirp of the chipmunk

Poetry Month Poems

Every year in my classroom, I celebrate poetry month with a month long poetry unit. This year, we are also planning a poetry slam.  Here are some poems inspired by the slam, my students and the beautiful Spring weather.

 

Welcome to our first annual

And hopefully not our final

P@rt*ge P%#k Poetry Slam!

What is a slam? Is there a manual?

It is a showcase; a kind of revival.

Us Panthers are wordsmiths here at a jam.

 

We’ve come together to celebrate.

To share and perform, the poems we create.

Let’s think of it as a new Panther exam.

 

Our newly achieved art status took many hours.

Our school has many talents here to shower.

But we also are Panthers with powers;

Patient and

Honest,

Respectful and

Helpful.

But today especially Brave and Kind overpowers.

 

Some of us our roses who grew from concrete.

Others are patient scavengers waiting their turn.

In our classrooms weeks we’ve worked to compete.

Here and now accolades you’ve earned.

 

As they like to say, “Put your hands together.”

Make them cram and slam.

For your fellow Panthers and all of their jams.

For our first annual Poetry Slam!

 

Depressed and stressed…  you say

Wearing a mask to hide your true self…   you say

Ugly, fat, dumb, lazy…  you say

Overwhelmed, worthless, alone….  You say

 

Can I offer some advice?

 

You are not a lone satellite in space… I know

 

Your revolutions are on the same path as others….  I know

 

Your peers wear the same mask as you…  I know

 

Your feelings are normal, not one of a kind…  I know

 

Those overpowering emotions can’t be helped…  I know

 

It’s all a rite of passage, from little kid to adult…  I know

 

It’s biological and the end isn’t too far…  I know

 

There is a light at the end of the tunnel

Things will get better, all the bad will funnel

Your sun will rise and darkness will be muttled

All the pieces will fit into your puzzle

 

We’ve listened, lived, we learned.

…. We all know.

 

The misty fog blankets the early Spring morning

The dawn sun paints the clouds pink hues

The robins delight in their squirmy breakfast

The day awakens so bright, clear and crisp

The aroma comforts that Spring is here!

Why I love Autumn

The pallet of reds, yellows, and oranges.

Reds I adore and treasure.

Sunlight begins to become foreign,

Yet continues her fight to be pleasured.

The air carries a calmness.

The rustle of nature’s wind chime

on the golden leaves is flawless.

Soothes me into the autumnal meantime.

The hues are reminiscent of the eternal goodnight,

Yet enticing and bring me delight.