My older granddaughter's teacher last year in second grade used Sharon Creech's Love That Dog to begin their poetry study. It was the class read aloud and an immersion in all the poets and poetry Creech put into the book. I know it started Ingrid into her own writing, but also a new idea, different poets wrote in different ways, so she could, too!
Last week, Michelle interviewed Nikki Grimes, sharing two poems, from Nikki's book, Bronx Masquerade, and another from her newest book, Between The Lines. These were poems Michelle also had shared in her recent teaching experience of students from Sequel Residential, a juvenile facility. And a poem from one of the students there was shared, from one who goes by the pen name, Lil Fujjii. That poem, "blurred lines" touched me. The TLD challenge for the month from Nikki is to write a Golden Shovel poem, but restrict it to lines from the three poems only. Nikki's book One Last Word fascinated me. I think I read it several times by the time I had made it to the end, re-reading, trying to see how she wove her own words while giving beautiful homage to the other poets' words, too.
Though I haven't shared many, I did share one on the TLD Padlet this week, and now I've written another. The Parkland tragedy continues to be heavy on my mind. I know grief in a number of ways, know that everyone handles it in very personal ways, and all deserve respect for that. Within a family, expectations of what is "right" can loom large, and I hold great sympathy for the families in Florida who have lost beloved family members.
from Lil Fujjii's poem, "blurred lines".
Listen
Evening fatigue, voices rise. I listen
but look out at the sky to
find a way to quiet the sound my
breaking breath makes of their story.
He loses all patience when and if
she cannot comply, says, “You
grieve in all the ways I can’t”.
I scream inside but here I just
choose quiet, quiet, knowing no one will listen
when I bravely go to bed to
face the dreams--not my
dreams, after all--no longer idyllic rhymes.
Linda Baie © All Rights Reserved
I was just introduced to that style of poetry recently. I really like it.
ReplyDeleteThis poem is beautiful. I love the end--not my dreams, after all--no longer idyllic rhymes.
Thanks for sharing this poem.
Thank you. That line, the form seemed to pull the lines from me. Each person is so different in ways they try to heal.
DeleteYou've captured the shattering of lives in this golden shovel poem.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ramona, it is something on my mind daily.
DeleteI found Lil Fujjii's poem so powerful when Michelle shared it. Your poem is a tribute to his words and also to those who might not express their emotions on their sleeves, but who have such tender places inside. Thanks for giving voice to them.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Robyn. I do think many have mixed-up feelings and want/need to hide them, perhaps fearing the responses?
DeleteThe golden shovel is such a fascinating form. Love what you did here; different ways to heal, different ways to process grief and heal. Thanks for sharing, Linda!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Jama. While sad, I liked putting this moment into a poem.
DeleteI'm touched that you chose Lil Fijjii's poem to inspire you, Linda. He is inspiring in person, as well. So sharp. So much to offer. I hope he's able to move on from his situation... unlike those Parkland students who never got a second chance. I love how you opened your poem, with the evening fatigue setting in. That's exactly what it feels like.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Michelle. I'm glad to hear more about Lil Fijjii, wish all my best to him in his future. His words certainly touched me.
DeleteI chose part of Lil Fijjii's poem's poem to write mine, too. I hope we all get second chances when we need them.
ReplyDeleteMe too, me, too. I'll be over later to see what you wrote, Brenda.
DeleteGlad to see you tackling this form, Linda - they're not easy, but can be so powerful when written well. Yours says so much, too. (I hope to add to Michelle's padlet myself, soon!)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Matt. It is always interesting to write one, and often surprising, too. Good luck with yours!
DeleteWe cannot know what others have experienced. Like you've shown, there are so many ways to process grief, but also so many levels of grief - and so many things to grieve in this awful situation.
ReplyDeleteYes, my hope often is that everyone might understand that. Thanks, Kat!
DeleteProcessing what happened must be a hellish experience. Your poem adds sensitivity and invitation to "listen" to all different forms of grieving–thank your powerful poem Linda!
ReplyDeleteThank you, too, Michelle.
DeleteGood for you for completing a second challenge poem! (I have yet to finish even one--and it's not that I haven't been trying!)
ReplyDeleteI weep with you, Linda.
Thanks, Diane. It's a tough time for so many.
DeleteI picked the same line, Linda. Our poems are so different. I love this one, and I love this about golden shovels...
ReplyDeleteThat is amazing. And I read and loved your poem, but when I later read through Michelle's post, didn't remember. Yes, different, but still a voice in each crying out. Interesting. Thanks, Donna.
DeleteOh, Linda....that poem is beautiful and powerful and heartbreaking. Well done. Grief is a good prompt. Wish that it were not. I haven't been to the padlet except to post. I need to go have a look around. I so enjoyed being included with you in Michelle's teaching tips. You are an inspiration as a poet and a teacher and a reader AND a grandmother.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Linda, for all the nice words! It is a wonderful community we share, isn't it? Michelle's post today is awesome, and as I said to her, makes me sad I'm no longer in the classroom! There is so much to learn from everyone.
DeleteThis is so lovely Linda.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Liz. I am glad that I wrote this second one.
DeleteWell done, Linda! You added so many layers of meaning by writing about the Parkland tragedy.
ReplyDeleteThank you. It felt important to write something.
DeleteWow, Linda--that is beautifully raw.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Heidi!
DeleteYour poem captures the many faces of grief beautifully, Linda.
ReplyDeleteYour poem is hauntingly necessary, Linda. We all need to see that grief is processed in its own time and in its own way. =)
ReplyDelete