This month, I’m tagging along with Christie, Margaret, Jone, Mary Lee, and other writers to play with poetry for National Poetry Writing Month. I’ll be creating poems using haikubes, metaphor dice, magnet poetry, paint chips and anything else that catches my fancy. Today, I got to play with my new metaphor dice for the first time. Poetry is…
This month, I’m joining several writers to play with poetry for National Poetry Writing Month. Today I’m creating another paint chip poem using an exercise from Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words. For this exercise, Wooldridge asks her workshop participants to collect words–action words as well as answers to questions like What…
This month, I’m joining several writers to play with poetry for National Poetry Writing Month. While I’m waiting for my haikubes and metaphor dice to arrive, I thought I’d try some book spine poetry. Whenever I’m in the schools observing, there’s one student who always interests me the most. You know the one. That kid.…
This month, I’m tagging along with Christie, Margaret, Jone, Mary Lee, and other writers to play with poetry. I’ll be using haikubes, metaphor dice, magnet poetry, blackout poetry, spine poetry, found poetry, and anything else that catches my fancy, including paint chips! Lion’s Slumber Cat rests in the early morning sunSeeks warm gold in the…
I wasn’t going to do an April writing challenge. I had many reasons not to commit to more daily writing. Don’t we all? And truly, the daily poem challenge last year was HARD. I write an occasional poemish thing when I’m slicing, but I don’t think of myself as someone who writes poetry. Another good…
What I Wish Report Cards Looked Like: Advanced Internet Rabbit Holes A Latte Art Appreciation A- Introduction to Patience B+ Reading Plans 101 A Principles of Introversion A+ The Anthropology of Cake A+ Cats in Popular Media A Field Experience in Book Hoarding A+ This poem comes from a writing prompt I occasionally give…
You can’t pop a poem in the oven set the timer go about your business until–DING–it’s done. You can’t press your finger to your poem its pillow top springs back when it’s ready You can’t take your poem’s temperature measure the thermometer’s rise 190° and it’s not quite ready 212° and it’s too dry You…
