"I Am..." Poems

I think every teenager should learn to express him/herself in poetry. It saved my sanity more than once at that age... So I am trying to get the boy who would rather read about paleontology to write some... We are using the Poetry Friday Power Books for inspiration. Here are our attempts at "I am" poems:

Mikro's effort:

Today I am...
Someone who doesn't want to write a poem;
Someone who got up too early;
Someone who is going on a field trip;
Someone who will see my best friend;
Someone who will learn something new.

Chele's take:

Today I am...
Someone who got an hour's sleep;
Someone who needs coffee;
Someone whose feet hurt already;
Someone who will wander marble corridors for hours;
Someone who gets to see great art!

Number Poems

Each line contains a particular number of words or syllables. The numbers can be anything: a special date, like a birthday, gps coordinates, your library card number... Whatever floats your poetic boat.

We used our own numbers, so our two poems will not match. Mikro's is word count oriented; mine is done by syllables.

Mikro:

I don't want to
Write
A poem with a specific number of words.

Chele:

September brings cool days and blue skies,
Autumn,
Colors popping.

And another:

I am riding on a south-bound train,
Eyelids drooping.
No wished for cup
Of steaming hot coffee
Appears.
Sigh.
Guess I will have to write a poem
To wake myself
...

C-c-cold

A little late night free verse...


Polar Vortex Ponderings
Copyright 2014, Chele Coyne

The neighbor’s wind chimes
Dance a frantic jig,
Their clamor nearly drowning out
The wind’s psychotic howling.
Media fanfare heralds the “Polar Vortex”,
Which sends the mercury plummeting,
As temperatures wave to zero
On their way down to double digit negatives.
Tomorrow’s tides will ferry sheet ice along
On its journey towards the city,
Bald eagles riding these frozen rafts
Like Hudson Line commuters,
Sharp eyes trained on the water,
In search of a likely fish,
While Gotham’s imported workforce
Look up from smartphones long enough
To marvel at the wild nearby
On this frosty winter morning.

Poets House: We Are Rivers with Richard Lewis

If you ever get the opportunity to attend one of the children's programs at Poets House, take it. And if it involves poet Richard Lewis, prepare to be enchanted. Mikro always has a wonderful time at his programs, and so do I. I never walk out without a new poem in my moleskine. This time, we considered our thoughts as rivers, watched a beautiful performance of Richard's poem, We Are Rivers, and made our own drawing and poem about our rivers of thought. Neither Mikro nor Kev are all that anxious to share theirs (and I can't find them at the moment), but I'll show you mine. I did it as a trifold. My river is ink, flowing onto the page.

Poets House: Sea Tale with Richard Lewis

Mikro attended a wonderful children's program at Poets House with the always amazing Richard Lewis. The children talked with Richard about play and imagination, imagined what it would be like inside a cloud and acted it out, pretended to be fish, watched a performance of Richard's Sea Tale, in which a crab teaches the world how to play, and then made crab assemblages and wrote about what the crab might have been thinking. Mikro composed a very simple song. And mama wrote a poem (and made a crab). Adults were encouraged to play, too!





Here's my little poem:

A Crab's Thoughts:

The sand prickles, tickles,
As I crawl along the beach.
Seagulls serenade me,
And I think that I might teach
The world to sing and dance
To the rhythm of the waves.
You've got to take a chance.
Play is for the brave.
You change the world a little bit
With the pattern of your thoughts.
So grab a pencil in your claws.
There are no rules, no laws.
Just play with words and let them swim,
Prose or poem, at your whim.
Have some fun; don't overthink!
Be like the octopus; just sling some ink.
~Chele

Snowstorm with Haiku

After we left Poets House, we crossed the street and admired the beauty of Rockefeller Park in the snow. Mikro and a friend even enjoyed the snow covered playground and rode the bike carousel. Then we walked back to the subway and headed home.

The snow and Poets House inspired me to come up with a couple of haiku, which I scrawled on the back of an envelope...

Carousels are meant
For warm spring and summer days
Yet are fun in snow.





Pale green and blush pink
The buds of new life appear
Wearing icicles.



Mother Nature turns
Gingerbread iron work to lace.
Paints it blizzard white.





Open wide, stick out tongue.
Not for the pediatrician.
Catch yourself some snow!



The Hudson was full of ice flows, and at times the fog and snow obscured the opposite bank. Mikro probably annoyed our fellow passengers singing this song:

Tugboat pushin' that barge along
Whistle blowin' that sweet river song
Smokestack black like a Hudson night
Tugboat pushin' that barge outta sight!

I think he's ready for the next Clearwater Festival!

Field Trip Fun

We've been on a bunch of field trips lately with our homeschool groups.

Tenement Museum:



Three! at Swiss Cottage Marionette Theater in Central Park:





Jigsaw Jones at the Tribecca Performing Arts Center (no photos allowed), followed by Rockefeller Park with friends, a craft at the park, and then Poet's House for some poems, and finally, the big silver slide at Tear Drop Park.