Irene Latham's Blog, page 114

ARTSPEAK! Poem #8 & Our Progressive Poem!!

First of all: Hello, and welcome to latest installment of Our 2015 Progressive Poem! It's so much fun watching this poem grow and develop day by day. Thank you to everyone who has delivered their lines so far... and to those yet to come, I am so looking forward to wherever you're going to take us!

You'll notice a couple of changes in this version of our poem. Jone's first line has been edited slightly, at Jone's request. (She and Joy decided "deposits" was redundant.) Also, I've broken the lines into couplets (one way to add white space to long lines). And with my line I've brought the poem back to the delta!

It looks to me like we may have a mermaid on our hands, now that we have moved from bare feet to tail... A delta mermaid? Interesting! I'm excited to learn more about our "she" as the poem progresses.



She lives without a net, walking along the alluvium of the delta.
Shoes swing over her shoulder, on her bare feet stick jeweled flecks of dark mica.

Hands faster than fish swing at the ends of bare brown arms. Her hair flows,
snows in wild wind as she digs in the indigo varnished handbag,

pulls out her grandmother's oval cuffed bracelet,
strokes the turquoise stones, and steps through the curved doorway.

Tripping on her tail she slips hair first down the slide... splash!
She glides past glossy water hyacinth to shimmer with a school of shad.

Take it away, Mary Lee!


And now, here's poem #8 of ARTSPEAK!, my Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?



Today's piece is "Head of a Dog" by Auguste Renoir.


Cute, isn't she? (I don't know, but I imagine her female.) Renoir did lots of portraits, but not many of animals.

A painting like this leaves little mystery in terms of POV, but it allows all sorts of freedom when you start thinking about who this dog might be talking TO.

When I started writing, I was thinking this is a homeless dog, and I started writing a profile, like they do at the animal shelter. Then, I started thinking about how this poem could be To the Boy Who Passed By the Window at 10 AM This Morning (or somesuch). And then I thought, what if this little dog's beloved owner has died? Could the poem be an elegy for the good and faithful owner?

But I couldn't get any of those to work the way I wanted to. AND THEN, finally, I landed on the poem that wanted to be written:




Readers who have been keeping up: notice something in this poem?? There it is again... waiting!

ARTSPEAK! Poem # 7 "Friends Like Us"

Hello, and welcome to day #7 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "Mortars and Pestles" by Elizabeth Moutal.

Okay, so this is a tough one. How to give voice to inanimate objects, and also create a poem that can stand-alone?? Hmmm.... looking at this piece, my mind jumped instantly to friendship. How we can look different on the outside, but aren't our hearts the same? The power of friendship. But, oh my, a friendship poem? Hasn't that been done and done and done? I was pretty much groaning as I got started. But look at them, those mortars and pestles... they look so cheery and proud. I decided to give it a shot. 


I spent more time on this poem than I have on any in the series so far... and at some point I just had to STOP, so I could publish this post! I imagine I will keep working on that ending... I really wanted the four voices to join together to create some sort of lovely chorus. There's nothing wrong with what's there, just that it's kind of expected. (Have I mentioned before how much I love the element of SURPRISE in poetry?) Something to keep tinkering with. And isn't that one of the joys of poetry? The endless tinkering? Trying this word and that? Playing with words? JOY! 
Be sure to visit Catherine Johnson for the latest in our Progressive Poem!

ARTSPEAK! Poem #6 "Mother Chicken's Plea"

Hello, and welcome to day #6 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "The Sick Chicken" by Winslow Homer.

I worked for quite a while on this poem from the little sick chick's perspective, but I never could get it to work quite right. One of the problems for me using that point of view was how little a newly-hatched chick would know about the world. The poem kept getting shorter and shorter -- until I switched my focus.

See how that Mama chick is looking up so expectantly... as if she knows exactly what is going on? Having had some experience keeping chickens, I know how fragile these new babies can be! And then, there it was, the poem that wanted to be written:


Please be sure to visit Ramona at Pleasure from the Page to see how our Progressive Poem is progressing!

ARTSPEAK! Poem #5 "Cat & Bird"

Hello, and welcome to day #5 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "Cat Watching Caged Bird" by Jacques Callot.


Now, here is a conversation! So many things could be happening in this piece... but the cat doesn't look particularly menacing, does she? Certainly curious... and the bird is not cowering in a corner. It seems to know it's safe on its perch. I imagined this as a daily happening -- could these two possibly be friends? I decided to explore this idea by writing a poem for two voices. 


What would your Cat & Bird say to one another??
By the way, an interesting theme is emerging... 4 of the 5 poems I've written this month have somehow addressed the idea of waiting. The chair wasn't just waiting, the girl was most definitely waiting, the rocks were sort of waiting in their stillness, and today Cat speaks of waiting! 
I tell you, poetry is a wise, mysterious beast. It reveals our hearts to us.
Be sure to visit Charles Waters' blog to see how our Progressive Poem is progressing! 

ARTSPEAK! Poem #4 "Prayer of the Black Rocks"

Hello, and welcome to day #4 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "The Black Rocks of Troubille" by Gustave Courbet.


I thought it would be fun to try a landscape, and the colors in this one really mesmerized me. I sat with it for a while -- was it a storm? Maybe... or maybe not, as those boats seem to be moving rather calmly. Sunrise, or sunset??

Then I got to thinking about all the motion in the poem: the clouds, the water, the boats. But poor old rocks... what kind of life is theirs? And then it came to me: even a rock must be grateful for something....




And how is our Progressive Poem progressing, please visit Laura at Writing the World for Kids to find out!

ARTSPEAK! Poem #3 "Girl, Waiting"

Hello, and Happy Poetry Friday!! Be sure to visit (singing!) Amy at The Poem Farm for Roundup --  which I am sure will be amazing here at the start of National Poetry Month!

Also, be sure to visit Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe for the next line in our Progressive Poem! We're off to a grand (alluvium, barefooted) start.

And... welcome to day #3 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "The Railway" by Edouard Manet.

A couple of things drew me to this piece. 1) the contrast between girl's dressy white dress and the dirty steam 2) the contrast between the girl's dressy white dress and her mother's practical black 3) the mother's bored expression and how her back is turned -- clearly what is a marvel to a child is not a marvel to her! 4) the sleeping puppy and open book.

If I was writing this poem for the adult audience, I would totally write from the mother's (if this is indeed the girl's mother) point of view! Alas. I tried for a while to write from the train's perspective ... what must a train think about all the people it sees on the platform? But there's too much hidden from the train's view that I wanted to mention. Which leaves the obvious choice: the girl herself.

ARTSPEAK! Poem #2 "Sewing Chair"

Hello, and welcome to day #2 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "Sewing Chair" by Dorothy Johnson.



Don't you just love this lonely little chair? I imagine it has so many stories to tell!

The story I wanted to tell came really quickly. Since poetry is about revealing things, I wondered, what secrets does this chair harbor? I'm not certain, but I think the chair has a rush seat... and in my experience rush seats are quite the invitation for dust and insects and who knows what else. I immediately got a picture of a fat, happy spider living quite comfortably on the underside. What nice company for this chair, and how wonderful to have a purpose in life-- even if it is not the purpose for which one was originally designed.



And now that I've posted this, I think I've found a better title: "Old Chair" or "This Old Chair." It's important to me that these poems stand alone (without the art), and there's really nothing about sewing in the poem I've written. So, something to think about! Don't you love how poems are constantly evolving?

ARTSPEAK! Poem #1 "Escape of the Toy Horse"

Hello, and welcome to day #1 of ARTSPEAK!, my 2015 Poem-a-Day Project for National Poetry Month 2015, in which I am writing from images found in the online collections of the National Gallery of Art and focusing on dialogue, conversations, what does the piece say?

Today's piece is "Baby at Play" by Thomas Eakins.





When I first chose this image, I was drawn to the quiet action of the baby... how many times had I seen my own children play with such seriousness? Then I noticed the abandoned doll lying face-first on the pavers. Poor dolly! And THEN I saw that horse and cart, high-tailing it out of there. Clearly, Toy Horse had something to say! He didn't want to become a victim like Dolly....


Be sure visit Jone at Check it Out to see the first line of our 2015 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem! And we're off!!! 

#EveryBrilliantThing March Roundup

JuliAnna & me in a plaza in Heidelberg, Germany.This year I am keeping a virtual gratitude list, inspired by the play Every Brilliant Thing. Here's my post about it. And here's my March list:

Robin eggs. [the candy]Waking to the sound of rain and birdsong.Old-fashioned personal mail found in the mailbox.Fifth grade friends.The fact that @erbeeko spent 7 hours today working on a song.Buttons.Boys in pink shirts.Hot air balloon.Fresh grapefruit juice.Hats.Induction of Kathryn Tucker Windham into Alabama Women's Hall of FameThe art of storytelling.Seafood supper.Traveling with JuliAnna Dykes.Mozart.Salt mines.Freedom. (after visiting Dachau concentration camp)Crazy long distance phone calls when cell phone won't work and you're missing loved ones so much.The Swiss alps.Chocolate fondueHeidelberg, Germany.Brock Colyar's suitcase still in one piece.Not having to pay to use the public restroom.Vegetables.My own bed.Taco night.In Vienna, you can Dial-a-Poem.Coca-Cola's “Make a Move” short. Spring Break.Patience.
People who explain things by using metaphor.

RED BUTTERFLY by A.L. Sonnichsen, illus. by Amy June Bates

Hello, and Happy last Poetry Friday before National Poetry Month! (gasp! how did this happen?!) Please visit Jone at Check it Out for Roundup. (Fun fact: Jone has the honor of providing the first line of our 2015 Progressive Poem! Woohoo!)

I am still recovering from an amazing 10 days in Austria, Germany & Switzerland, but I have GOT to tell you about RED BUTTERFLY by A.L. Sonnichsen.

I love this book. LOVE it. It moved me deeply. Please, please do yourself a favor and seek this one out. I am in love with Kara and her story.

From the jacketflap:

"Kara never met her birth mother. Abandoned as an infant, she was taken in by an elderly American woman living in China. Now eleven, Kara spends most of her time in their apartment, wondering why she and Mama cannot leave the city of Tianjin and go live with Daddy in Montana. mama tells Kara to be content with what she has... but what if Kara secretly wants more? Told in lyrical, moving verse, Kara's story is one of a girl learning to trust her own voice, discovering that love and family are limitless, and finding the wings she needs to reach new heights."

A big source of conflict and growth for Kara is when her adult-sister Jody comes to visit:

JODY TIME

In the daylight
she sleeps in my bed,
her mouth open,
snoring.

At night,
when she should be asleep,
she's wide-awake
talking
LOUD-VOICED
to Mama,
who nods,
     yawns,
nods,
but collects
each Jody-word
like it's a
fleck of gold.
------------------------------------
And oh, what a complex, heartbreaking character Mama is!

MOTH

Mama is
a fragile moth
of night and shadow.

If I touch her
she might
flutter
away.

If I tell her
what the fat landlord said
she might
twirl
on pale wings
out the window
to Montana
     and forget me.
----------------------------------------
Kara also discovers words her mother wrote for her in the pages of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, which is Kara's favorite book:

There is no
Secret to Happiness
Except learning to be Content
And wearing the badge that says
This is My Unique Life
and no one else
can live it.

I'm not going to reveal all that happens to Kara later in the book, but I will share this short excerpt from the book's Epilogue:

Now my feet can't hold still.
I run
     run
          run
               and hurl myself into Mama's
               waiting arms.

And now I bid you Zaijian!

(excerpt from poem "Stairwell")

Zaijian,
     she says.

     It is a hopeful
thing to say.
          "Zaijan" means "good-bye,"
but also "see you later."