Photo: Laura Purdie Salas
Educators: Just wanted to share these great reviews from the International Reading Association for Sylvia Vardell’s Poetry Teacher’s Book of Lists and Sylvia’s and Janet Wong’s poetry e-thology, The Poetry Friday Anthology. These are two essential books for any teachers and librarians sharing poetry–Yay! Please forward or Share these with any educators you know:>)
Now, wake up your poetry brains with 15 Words or Less (guidelines here)!
This week’s image makes me think of:
1) A lizard
2) A cat burglar
3) An earthquake
And here’s my poem first draft:
Tree Frog, Stuck
I tuck my suction cups
into stony bark tree,
plucking luck from gravity
–Laura Purdie Salas
What does this picture make YOU think of? Whatever enters your mind, even if you think it’s strange, jot a quick 15 words or less poem and share it in the comments! Have fun!
I’m a bit late (and new to this site), but here’s what I came up with:
Concrete canyons
Surround asphalt rivers
Edged with concrete walks
And occasional pools
Of isolated green’ry
I think the photo inspired me more than the word.
Welcome, Rae–never too late:>) Love the mix of urban and natural in your poem. Hope to see you here again!
BOARDING SCHOOL DROP OFF
Neck cranes up
at
Ragged,
Jagged,
Cinder blocked
Dome,
“Welcome son to your
new home.”
(c) Charles Waters 2012 all rights reserved.
Ooh, I like all the staccato, unwelcoming sounds here, Charles!
A great 15 word collection. What fun! Everyone sees it so differently. I am adding mine a day late.
Window Eyes
No more blue skies
said the buzzing flies
trapped behind the window eyes.
I agree–lots of wonderful variety! I wish I could feel more empathy for your trapped flies, but they (real ones, I mean) are driving me crazy! And now I feel like your poem ones are beating on the back of my eyeballs somehow instead of those window eyes. Isn’t it funny how words/images strong enough can make us physically uncomfortable?
True! I have no empathy either!!! In fact, when I saw the picture, I thought of how many flies would be in those windows….yuck!
Words are so powerful and that is why I love them so much
I can hear them buzzing!
Laura, I love the rhymes and sounds in yours, as well as the image!
I’m not exactly sure how my mind went from the stone building to this, but here’s what I came up with:
Curious Jack
This crazy beanstalk
Grew so high.
Up it climbed,
Into the sky.
I wonder why?
Never question the leaps your mind makes–those leaps are what give us our creativity! I sometimes question my sanity, but then I think, I better not go there:>) I picture this poem as that moment right BEFORE Jack makes that decision to climb up. So maybe it wasn’t greed after all, just curiosity…
That’s what I was thinking, too. (About Jack.)
Ooh, I really like this! Very creative.
Thank you!
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Laura– “Plucking luck from gravity” is lyrical and the perfect laugh-out-loud ending. I love the transition from feeling trapped and entrenched to blind leaps of faith into the air.
-Pamela
Thanks, Pamela–I’m working lately on more internal rhyme and near rhyme, so it was the sound that led me to the last line. Sound first, then meaning. That is scary for me, opposite of the usual way I write!
Yes, I forgot to mention that when I posted my poem yesterday, but I loved all the assonance and internal rhymes in your poem! “Plucking luck from gravity” is a GREAT phrase!
Vanishing Point
My heart
crawls
inside the window
where
once I wondered
what life
outside
would bring
-Pamela Ross
Ooh. What an image…a heart retreating back inside. I love poems that make me wonder things, that are somewhat ambiguous but not so much so that they are confusing. Yours makes me wonder: what finally lured the narrator out of the window? what has bruised her and made her heart retreat back inside? was life outside worth the wounding? Love the title, too!
I really like “my heart crawls” and the title. The poem makes me think of passing by my childhood home last month, remembering my life back then and reflecting on all that has changed since I left.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
let down your hair!”
Finally he realized,
Rapunzel wasn’t there.
Ooh, Rapunzel escaped without the help of the prince? Yay! Or–maybe she died. Hmmm…I’ll go with my first take on your fractured fairy tale:>)
Or maybe he was at the wrong castle.
I like how this poem makes the readers wonder what happened.
CAKE BOSS TAKES ON THE OLD APARTMENT
Rice treat bricks
hold chocolate-mullioned panes
of cast sugar
—Sweet!
Ha–love this. The title is great! I love the sound of that second line. It feels so thick and luxurious, like a ridiculously sweet dessert should:>)
You’re making me hungry! Great idea. I especially like “chocolate-mullioned panes”.
Thank you, Laura and Janelle! (I obviously watch too many cooking shows… my substitution for over-indulging in real life.)
Peeping Tom
I wonder why
old buildings
always seduce me
to unbutton
them and peek
inside?
Love the image of unbuttoning an old building. Very original–and your title makes me laugh:>)
Clever metaphors!
Stone walls
rise
up
up
up
halting
dreams
shuttering
aspiration
suspending
hope anchoring to earth
(Not sure why I saw your wall as insurmountable, Laura…especially since your tree frog seems to scale it!)
That’s the beauty of poems inspired by photos–it’s fun to see the variety. I could look at any picture and write poems of lots of different moods, it’s just a matter of which one raises its hand and says, “Me-me-me-me!” loudest. I like the shape of your poem and great use of shuttering!
Sometimes walls, even figurative ones, do seem insurmountable. I like all the different verbs you used!
This photo made me wonder what it would be like to live in that building…
Weekly Chore
Groceries in sacks,
Arms already sore—
Only stairs, no elevator
Up to that top floor.
Oh Laura – you reminded me of how I hated laundry day when I lived in a tall building!
Makes me grateful to live in a one-story house.
Ah, does this ever bring back memories–and mine was only a third floor apartment:>) Yay for writing, Laura. It’s always good when a prompt of any kind helps us get words on paper or screen. THANKS for participating!
Thank you, Laura!
I can relate to this! Thankfully, I don’t live in an apartment any more.
Stone Faced
Window eyes,
hovering high,
see all the secrets
in this city.
~EMP
Very nice! I like how you personified the building.
Love this title and the Big Brother feeling. The building feels stern and prying–love the window eyes.
Buildings often look like faces to me. I like the idea of this one being privy to all the secrets of the city. Great title, too!
This morning
Trying to write
Poetry
I hit
A stone
Wall.
Joy Acey
Ha Ha! I’ve done this many a morning!
Ha! Haven’t we all been there before! Love the way you made this meta-poem work with the image!
Love it! (Been there, done that!)
Lonely
for the touch
of the stonemason -
the caress
of my solid beauty.
Aw, who would have thought a building could have such feelings of longing. This is lovely.
Poor lonely building. I love this idea.
Love your poem, Laura! I got into the towering aspect of the photo…
Midnight
Midnight
and the ravens wait
high in the tower.
It’s too late.
–Kate Coombs (Book Aunt)
I love a little Poe in the pre-Halloween weeks! Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Thanks, Kate. Oh, I love this! So ominous! Too late for what? My mind comes up with a dozen scenarios. On a related note, have you seen Robyn Hood Black’s art on etsy–raven and cauldron notecards: http://www.etsy.com/listing/109473029/raven-and-cauldron-note-cards-package-of
Just looked at the cards–pretty! I’m a big fan of woodcut prints. Of course, I could spend all day on Etsy, filling a shopping cart.
I hear that!
I didn’t know she had a shop on etsy. Those notecards are lovely! Thanks for sharing!
Now I’m wondering… what are they waiting for? And why is it too late? Love the mystery of this poem!
Higher Learning
Ivory tower
Hallowed halls
Eek! Where’s my ivy?
Naked walls.
Cathy, I got such a kick out of this! Especially the last two lines.
Ha! Love the turn from scholarly to funny!
Fun poem!
Political Parties 2012
Once the stone
foundation shoring
up our democracy
now the walls of
our prison fortress.
© Diane Mayr
Oooooo–I’m not a big reader of political poetry, but I love the way you twist the metaphor here, Diane.
Sounds dark and foreboding…
Tiptoe, silent woe
creeping through streets
smiling girl spots tiny
kitten-”How sweet!”
New home.
I really liked yours, Ms. Salas!
Thanks, Amelia:>)
Love how you’ve worked a whole story into so few words! First two lines are my favorites. Great sounds.
I love those first two lines!