Last day to feel guilty...

Here it is, the end of April. National Poetry Month is over tomorrow and I no longer have to feel guilty about not managing to get a poem up. I thought to end the month I would post one of my new favorite poems. It was written by a poet out in California--his name is David Sullivan and he actually used to be a middle school teacher in NH. I know this because he was my teacher for both 6th and 7th grade. He was one of those really important teachers in my life--influential, kind, excited about teaching and caring towards all his students. He was really and truly a fantastic individual. Anyway, he moved out to California shortly after I left middle school and although we may have exchanged a few letters here and there, I really lost touch with him by mid- to late high school. I heard about him once in a great while from a mutual friend of ours, but I never really bothered to get back in touch first hand.

Then Sophie died. And I got the most incredible empathetic letter from this mutual friend who told me that David's third baby, a little girl, had also died just before her due date. I was heartbroken for them and, of course, sent them a letter. It was then that I found out the David had written this book of poetry with a whole section devoted to his little girl. This poem, about taking down a house of dreams, is one of my favorites. So here it is:

A House For Luna Maria

House of grasshoppers and mud,
dusted white with spent pollen.

Expectant house of what-will-never,
of we-shall-see.

I unbuild it painstakingly.
Unstrip the paint.

Pile the screws in boxes.
Each thing labeled:

shutters, shingles, bricks,
the unused furnace's bulk.

Windows of sea glass. Cupboards
of chipped teeth and driftwood.

House of less-than--
given to the sea.

House her in dust motes
and sand, wheat chaff and flotsam,

birdcalls and birch bark, so I forget.
Then let the wind do its work.


That poem is from the book "Strong-Armed Angels" by David Allen Sullivan; published by Hummingbird Press in Santa Cruz, CA. Copyright 2008.

Thank you for reading my annoying poems all month, we will now get back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

Neat?

she
told me
about this cool
way to write a
poem she said to put
the number of words
in a pyramid
and stack
them

(but I don't know if "a" is a word)

Not a poem

Okay, so yesterday Erin's homeschool science class had a fieldtrip and Megan got to go along (it is her school vacation week). Tony, the teacher, is truly an interesting person. He loves outside and nature and gets a big kick out of sharing icky, funky stuff with kids. Who wouldn't love a guy whose motto is, "It all comes down to poop or pee!" (And really, what science concept doesn't??)

Yesterday we went to a really cool tropical fish place and Tony taught the kids about a shrimp that can break glass, a fish that can come out of the water, and all kinds of things about the very cool colorful ones. As we left there, Tony announced that the next stop was to his house to "meet his bird." Now, what are you thinking right now?? I was thinking something like cool parrot or rare toucan or something along those lines.

Um...no.
















Yes, folks, that is an emu. Her name is Emu (because, apparently, when you are an emu, you don't need a cooler name than that!)















And that is Erin just after feeding Emu her handful of lettuce. Megan almost fed her too, but dropped her hand at the last minute. Given that she was standing under a bird that was easily 3x her size, I can't say that I blame her. I probably would have dropped my lettuce too.

Evan, of course, was outside the fence trying to get in the emu yard...because that is where his sisters were and if THEY get to be there, why can't he?? (Because, sweet boy, there is a HUGE BIRD in there and it would probably eat you for lunch!)

sorry about this....

I cannot write a poem today
It just doesn't want to come out
Ideas swim around
Words all abound
But cohesiveness just isn't about

I'm back

I've been gone but now I'm back
My life's been goin' out of whack
Travelin' here and travelin' there
To garden shows and a children's fair
But now, it seems, only eleven days remain
For my bad poetry to drive you insane!

Thank you!

Erin is doing a unit on frogs and she wanted to partake in National Poetry Month so she wrote this:

Frogs hop, leap and fly
Some look like they could touch the sky

Frogs are found most every where
Frogs could even be in your lair

Frogs eat bugs and worms and mice
And snakes think that frogs taste nice!

April 13th

It's unprotected!
The chocolate frosting for my birthday cake
He left it on the counter
While he went to the store for milk
The kids are asleep and there it is
Dripping from the beaters
It awaits my finger
YUM!

The Dreaded Question

Yesterday I was asked the dreaded question, "How many kids do you have?" I hate that question. I usually stop and think, have or had? Many Babylost moms feel especially hurt by this question, I know I'm not alone. Saying (in my case) "three" makes my heart break and I feel a small ache in my side for several hours after the conversation. I feel so sad and scared that my baby girl is being neglected. Saying, "four" has, obviously, it's own problems. I certainly don't want the other person to feel badly for bringing it up. And sometimes, you can see in their face, a huge...I don't know, almost annoyance for counting the missing baby. Like they are thinking, Man! She isn't over that yet?? So I'm not sure why I answered so fast or why the answer came to me so quickly. But I wrote a little poem for it, just in case people are still reading my blog and still taking National Poetry Month at all seriously.


Most people think I told a lie
They think I was playing a trick
She asked how many kids I have
And the answer came out too quick

Four, I said, without a blink
But then, of course, I stopped
The conversation kept right on
Nobody gave it a thought

It stuck with me for the rest of the day
And on right through the night
I do have four kids, this I know
I just keep one tucked out of sight

Sorry to continue to subject you!

It is really very hard
To write a poem every day
I find the challenge stressful
In oh so many ways!

First my baby doesn't sleep
Then the next one gets real sick
And the other has too much to do
And poetry becomes a trick!

Since this verse is, admittedly, bad
I'm going to have to stop and plan
Which I will do right after I'm done
With watching The Music Man!

Not exactly a poem...

...but it has a poetic ending....

Looking out the window today brought an interesting sight. There was my 7-year-old daughter rolling old tires across the yard. One after another, she would get to her destination and go back to get another one. Now, I had a sick kid on the couch, a toddler playing with a bucket of water, and I was on the phone...so I couldn't exactly ask her what was going on or figure it out myself.

Anyway, a few minutes later when I got off the phone and got the other two settled, I went out on the porch and asked her what she was doing. She flashed me that incredibly cute grin out of the side of her mouth, (the one that will get her out of trouble for a few more years, at least) and said, "You know, Mom...curiosity killed the cat!" And she rolled her tire away without answering the question!

(See? A poetic ending!)

Sick of these yet?

Again, sorry to Bel, who has done a wonderful job getting poems up every day. Just not happening with me! Erin has rehearsal every day this week, which means I'm driving to Brewer ALL THE TIME. You would think I would have a haiku about driving....

For Evan:

He would not have been.
And yet he is here for us,
What a gift she gave.

Today's Poem...and yesterday's too!

See, B? I'm bad at the one-a-day thing. SORRY!

For Sophie:

She was number three
Blue-eyed, blond, happy, perfect
All she'll ever be

One for Megan

Yesterday's poem was for Erin, so here's a haiku for my little Megan:

The challenging love...
Please stop crying, beautiful!
Patience is a must!

Note to Bel--I'm not sure I can keep this up all month!

National Poetry Month!

Okay, my friend, Bel is a writer and her favorite month is April, not just because of my birthday, but because it is National Poetry Month. She posts a poem a day for the whole month and she challenges other bloggers to do the same. I missed yesterday because of the excitement of The Letter, but I might have to give this poetry thing a try.

My favorite poems are haiku. I love their simplicity and how easily they can get a point across. So I started to write a few about my family. Here is one for Erin to get the month started...a day late! (I'll do one family member a day...that will get me a few days and then we'll have to see. Prepare to be completely sick of haiku poems by the end of the month...or week...whichever! So here goes:

The first birth just right.
She showed me a mother's love.
Seven so soon? Sigh.

The look on her face

Holy smokes, I wish you could have seen the look on her face. Pure, pure JOY and EXCITEMENT! It was amazing. A few weeks ago, Erin wrote a letter to Colleen Robertia, one of the mushers we were following in this year's Iditarod. She wanted to appreciate Colleen who was using "runts, rescues and rejects" to run her race. Anyway, it was a typical 7-year-old letter with careful printing and a few misspelled words. We didn't think much of it, except to look up on the map where it was going.

Fast forward to today. Erin rides her bike down the driveway to get the mail. As I'm standing in the yard, I hear the screech from the mailbox (about 250 feet away!). Then I hear the thumping of a child running in rainboots--"MOM!! MOM!! MOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!"

"What is it??"

"COLLEEN!! MOM! COLLEEN WROTE BACK! MOM--SHE WROTE BACK!!" (I swear there were tears in her eyes!)

We carefully open the letter and there it was, a full-color poster of Colleen and her dogs with a description of why she had wanted to run the Iditarod and a personal response to Erin on the back.

Now, because I read Colleen's Blog (here) I know that she got quite a few letters from her fan base (apparently quite a few classrooms picked her for their musher on this project) and I know she had intended to write back to everyone. I just couldn't believe she wrote a personal letter and mailed the whole poster to each of us. Amazing effort on her part--and, again, I wish you could have seen my little girl's face. If I could have captured it on video, I would send it to Colleen so she would know how her incredible efforts paid off.








If you ever happen to read this, Colleen Robertia, thank you! You are one amazing Alaskan and you should know you've made a huge mark on the heart of this Maine family.

(And yes, Erin did have to go back down the driveway for her bike which had been left abandoned on the road in all the excitement. Good thing we live on such a quiet street!)