Only three more poems to go!
Substitute
outside,
overcast sky
inside, a tall, square vase
of yellow tulips fills in for
Poem A Day Challenge & Poetry Friday April 26, 2019
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Carol Varsalona at Beyond LiteracyLink. Check out her page for links to more poets sharing work today.
In 1958, when I was five years old, my parents and other relatives set out on a great adventure north. I have been writing bits and pieces about that time for a while. Over the last couple of years as I write more, I interview remaining family members for more details and stories about their experience. To motivate myself to write, I plan to post bits and pieces of their saga here every Friday. They might not be in any kind of order. I'm just hoping to get some kind of reasonable drafts out there. I hope for feedback both on the construction of the poetry, and more details from family.
This is the fourth instalment. You can read the previous posts at the links below.
Leaving
Characters
journey
Arrival
Early afternoon
they arrived at the settlement.
Found,
In 1958, when I was five years old, my parents and other relatives set out on a great adventure north. I have been writing bits and pieces about that time for a while. Over the last couple of years as I write more, I interview remaining family members for more details and stories about their experience. To motivate myself to write, I plan to post bits and pieces of their saga here every Friday. They might not be in any kind of order. I'm just hoping to get some kind of reasonable drafts out there. I hope for feedback both on the construction of the poetry, and more details from family.
This is the fourth instalment. You can read the previous posts at the links below.
Leaving
Characters
journey
Arrival
Early afternoon
they arrived at the settlement.
Found,
nestled in a grove of pines
along the river,
an assortment of ragged
cabins.
Not dignified enough
to be built of logs,
rough shiplap
nailed together
rose up to meet
a low peaked roof.
an assortment of ragged
cabins.
Not dignified enough
to be built of logs,
rough shiplap
nailed together
rose up to meet
a low peaked roof.
No insulation,
no interior walls,
just two room shacks
with wind whistling tunes
through cracked wood and
empty knot holes.
Filthy abodes,
infested with
mice,
pack rats
and other forest creatures.
Birds nested
in chimneys
and ceiling corners.
A family of skunks had
taken up in one of the cabins
and were left alone.
Dismayed but undaunted,
optimistic crews
of men, women and older children
set to work shovelling out
what would be their winter homes.
My mother,
seven and a half months pregnant,
seven and a half months pregnant,
scrubbed alongside them.
A passel of children,
the oldest set to
looking out for the youngest,
explored this new landscape.
Inside these hovels,
one small window,
covered with plastic,
welcomed sunlight into
the oldest set to
looking out for the youngest,
explored this new landscape.
Inside these hovels,
one small window,
covered with plastic,
welcomed sunlight into
the kitchen eating area.
An even smaller one,
high on the wall,
invited a sliver of light
into the sleeping space.
Out back,
a ramshackle outhouse
waited for you to do your business.
Water was hauled in buckets from the river.
high on the wall,
invited a sliver of light
into the sleeping space.
Out back,
a ramshackle outhouse
waited for you to do your business.
Water was hauled in buckets from the river.
The wood cook stove in the front room
provided the only heat.
Come dark,
kerosene lamps
radiated golden
as the travellers bedded down,
camping out
that first night
in their new dwellings.
provided the only heat.
Come dark,
kerosene lamps
radiated golden
as the travellers bedded down,
camping out
that first night
in their new dwellings.
Links to my previous April poems can be found here.
Here is a link to blogs of other participants in the poem a day challenge.
Poem A Day Challenge April 25, 2019
My mother in law enjoyed dressing up in fancy clothes with matching baubles. After she died she left us with boxes of costume jewelry. Her quality pieces, and much of her better trinkets, went to her one granddaughter. Beaded necklaces in glorious colours and shapes filled numerous boxes. We gave most of them away to primary classrooms to use as they wanted. I kept one of them.
Marguerite
I wish you were here.
Ada and Everett
Ada and Everett
adore your beads:
putting them on,
taking them off,
parading around
putting them on,
taking them off,
parading around
adorned in colour.
I wish you could have met
these great grandchildren.
You would have revelled
in their antics
and love for each other.
I wish you could have met
these great grandchildren.
You would have revelled
in their antics
and love for each other.
I imagine your face,
incandescent with joy.
I wish you could see
how your son
cavorts and carries
on with his wild beasts.
How proud you’d be
of the man he’s become.
cavorts and carries
on with his wild beasts.
How proud you’d be
of the man he’s become.
Poem A Day Challenge April 24, 2019
Last summer as our part of the planet was burning, I began to write a collection of poems connected to climate change. I have been working on them off and on. This is one of them.
And The People
And the people,
And The People
And the people,
egged on by their
corporate masters
dug more deeply,
extracted more thoroughly,
spread more freely
the black death,
And called it good
And they integrated
it into their lives,
drove their cars,
heated their houses,
flew their planes,
extended their dietary horizons,
And called it good
And they transformed
the black death,
furnished their houses,
adorned their bodies,
filled supermarket shelves,
saturated landfills,
And called it good
The corporate masters
created a new creed
of the economy,
a modern mathematics
for keeping score.
Earth was raped,
profits soared,
And they called it good
As the shadow
of the black death
began to descend,
the corporate masters
plotted and schemed,
confounded truth,
proliferated lies,
gutted democracy,
And called it good
And called it good
And the people,
in thrall to their
corporate masters,
corporate masters,
embraced
the black death,
dug more deeply,
extracted more thoroughly,
spread more freely
the black death,
And called it good
Poem A Day Challenge April 23, 2019
Writing the story of my family's journey north, has set me to thinking about stories about my grandparents. Here is a picture of them with their first four children and my grandfather's mother.
Grandma and Grandpa
Walter was a logger,
a large man
with large hands
who spent
time in camp
falling timber
with saws and axes.
Belle worked hard
alongside her parents
in the hotel they ran.
His best pal
was walking out with
her best friend.
Baseball was the passion of the day.
They came to know one another
during outings to games.
Belle was ten years younger.
Thought he was handsome,
but she was to young for him.
Walter admired her looks
and liked her spunk,
but he was to old for her.
When Belle was 16,
her mother died.
Her father,
always fond of drink,
sunk deep into despair,
and even deeper into the bottle.
Strange men visited the house,
consumed copious amounts of drink,
played poker and
roamed the premises.
Belle stuck knives
in her bedroom door
to keep those men out,
and her virtue safe
On a trip home from camp,
Walter discovered what was going on.
Married her to get her out of there.
One year later,
Belle, not yet pregnant,
worried she was barren.
It’s a good thing she was wrong
or my mother,
the last of their seventeen children,
wouldn’t have been born,
and neither would I.
Grandma and Grandpa
Walter was a logger,
a large man
with large hands
who spent
time in camp
falling timber
with saws and axes.
Belle worked hard
alongside her parents
in the hotel they ran.
His best pal
was walking out with
her best friend.
Baseball was the passion of the day.
They came to know one another
during outings to games.
Belle was ten years younger.
Thought he was handsome,
but she was to young for him.
Walter admired her looks
and liked her spunk,
but he was to old for her.
When Belle was 16,
her mother died.
Her father,
always fond of drink,
sunk deep into despair,
and even deeper into the bottle.
Strange men visited the house,
consumed copious amounts of drink,
played poker and
roamed the premises.
Belle stuck knives
in her bedroom door
to keep those men out,
and her virtue safe
On a trip home from camp,
Walter discovered what was going on.
Married her to get her out of there.
One year later,
Belle, not yet pregnant,
worried she was barren.
It’s a good thing she was wrong
or my mother,
the last of their seventeen children,
wouldn’t have been born,
and neither would I.
Poem A Day Challenge April 22, 2019
Today is Earth Day.
Last Saturday, while Hoyoun, Ada and I were out walking, we admired a lot full of dandelions. It was eerily silent without the buzz of bees. For the rest of our walk, we searched for them in every clump of flowers. Eventually we found one. I have been trying to come up with a poem for dandelions and the missing bees ever since. I ended up with using a dodoitsu format you can read about here.
Last Saturday, while Hoyoun, Ada and I were out walking, we admired a lot full of dandelions. It was eerily silent without the buzz of bees. For the rest of our walk, we searched for them in every clump of flowers. Eventually we found one. I have been trying to come up with a poem for dandelions and the missing bees ever since. I ended up with using a dodoitsu format you can read about here.
Spring is here. Dandelions
In golden abundance, wait,
Wondering, just like we do,
What happened to bees?
#IMWAYR April 22, 2019
#IMWAYR time again, when readers share what they have been reading and find out what others have been up to in the past week. Kathryn hosts the adult version of this meme at Book Date. Jen at Teach Mentor Texts and Kellee and Ricki at Unleashing Readers host the kidlit rendition. Whatever you are looking forward to in your next great read, these are fabulous places to start your search.
I'm planning on posting a poem that is part of a collection of poems about climate change, but a lot can happen between now, as I write this Sunday evening, and when I wake up Monday morning.
As a nod to Easter reading, I picked up a couple of books with egg related themes when I was at the library Saturday with my granddaughter and daughter-in-law. Otherwise, we didn't make a big deal about the season this year. I made dinner and dessert of pavlova with lemon curd. Our house has been chocolate free!
POEM A DAY POSTS LAST WEEK
15. Hold On
16. These Hands
17. Cherubs
18. drought
19. journey*
20. Politics
21. A Poem For Lost Glasses
Hurrah! The poem a day challenge is almost 3/4's over.
PICTURE BOOKS
Little Cub by Olivier Dunrea
I am in the middle of an obsession with Olivier Dunrea's picture books. My grandchildren are a bit young for this one as it has more text, but I am sure that slightly older children will love this story about a little bear who is on his own. He doesn't like being alone and wishes he had someone to take care of him. Old Bear is also alone and doesn't like it. He too wishes he had someone to take care of him. I'm now waiting to read Old Bear and His Cub.
Gus (Gossie and Friends) by Olivier Dunrea
I enjoyed this little board book more than my granddaughter did, but maybe it was just not the right time for her. Gus is a thoughtful loner spending his time watching the world around him. Then he discovers a clutch of eggs.
The Odd Egg by Emily Gravett
I might be more dark and twisted than I thought, but I loved this book. All the other birds have laid eggs except Goose. Then he found an egg and fell in love with its beauty, certain it was the best egg ever. Long after all the other eggs had hatched, goose waited. It’s quite the surprise when the egg finally does crack and open. I was sad that the end papers were covered in my library copy. I had to work hard to find the final, hilarious surprise!
This House, Once by Deborah Freedman
This is a kind of house that jack built, only it references where the different parts of the house came from. The illustrations are divine, but I was confused by what was going on at times.
NONFICTION PICTURE BOOKS
I Am NOT a Dinosaur! by Will Lach & Jonny Lambert (Illustrator)
This book introduces readers to numerous animals often mistaken for dinosaurs. I loved it for many reasons. First, the main part is written in poetry. Second, it's nonfiction. Third, Jonny Lambert's art is equal to Steve Jenkins work. Fourth, the back matter is full of additional information about each animal. There is a section titled, What is a Dinosaur? It also includes a timeline showing the epochs each animal existed.
POETRY
My Dog Is a Carrot by John Hegley
These poems are pure delight! They are also twisted and somewhat warped. I'm looking forward to sharing some of them with students this coming week. The section of poems on glasses inspired me to write my own poem this week! You can read it here.
NOVELS
Half-Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan & Kyle Riley (Narrator)
The writing in this novel is exquisite. It's the story of black Jazz musicians living in Europe at the time of the second world war. It's a powerful story about betrayal and redemption. The list of awards this book has won, or was nominated for, tell you how potent it is.
Esi Edugyan is Canadian.
ADULT NONFICTION
Love and Laughter in the Time of Chemotherapy by Manjusha Pawagi
This memoir deals with the time the author was diagnosed with leukaemia and the treatment regime she had to endure to get rid of it. It's loaded with gruesome details, truly wretched experiences and episodes of black humour. I knew that the treatment for cancer was harsh, but before reading this book, I really didn't understand what that looked and felt like.
It is beautifully written. I stopped and wrote out a number of passages.
Throughout this memoir, what struck me most was the strength of the relationships she began with, and those she forged during her horrific marathon. I leave you with this quote from the book.
“ Love is not a tree, because trees die. Love is a rock. And not stone that crumbles into dust. It’s the Canadian Shield itself, granite as old is the Earth, solid and unwavering beneath my weak and unsteady feet.”
Manjusha Pawagi is Canadian.
CURRENTLY
I am listening to Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny and reading, with my eyes, Girl in Pieces by by Kathleen Glasgow. The latter has been on my #MustRead list for the last couple of years. I am so glad to finally get to it.
UP NEXT
The next audiobook will be Property of the Rebel Librarian (if it becomes available.) I'm eyeing Ash Boy: A CinderFella Story as a break from the intensity before starting Watch Us Rise by Renée Watson.
PROGRESS ON MY READING GOALS
#MustReadIn2018 11/25 1 in progress
#MustReadNFIn2018 6/12
25 Books by Canadian Indigenous Authors 7/25
25 books by Canadian Authors 23/25
Goodreads Reading Challenge 138/333
Happy Earth Day!
As a nod to Easter reading, I picked up a couple of books with egg related themes when I was at the library Saturday with my granddaughter and daughter-in-law. Otherwise, we didn't make a big deal about the season this year. I made dinner and dessert of pavlova with lemon curd. Our house has been chocolate free!
POEM A DAY POSTS LAST WEEK
15. Hold On
16. These Hands
17. Cherubs
18. drought
19. journey*
20. Politics
21. A Poem For Lost Glasses
Hurrah! The poem a day challenge is almost 3/4's over.
PICTURE BOOKS
 |
| 4 stars |
I am in the middle of an obsession with Olivier Dunrea's picture books. My grandchildren are a bit young for this one as it has more text, but I am sure that slightly older children will love this story about a little bear who is on his own. He doesn't like being alone and wishes he had someone to take care of him. Old Bear is also alone and doesn't like it. He too wishes he had someone to take care of him. I'm now waiting to read Old Bear and His Cub.
 |
| 4 stars |
I enjoyed this little board book more than my granddaughter did, but maybe it was just not the right time for her. Gus is a thoughtful loner spending his time watching the world around him. Then he discovers a clutch of eggs.
 |
| 4 stars |
I might be more dark and twisted than I thought, but I loved this book. All the other birds have laid eggs except Goose. Then he found an egg and fell in love with its beauty, certain it was the best egg ever. Long after all the other eggs had hatched, goose waited. It’s quite the surprise when the egg finally does crack and open. I was sad that the end papers were covered in my library copy. I had to work hard to find the final, hilarious surprise!
 |
| 3 stars |
This is a kind of house that jack built, only it references where the different parts of the house came from. The illustrations are divine, but I was confused by what was going on at times.
NONFICTION PICTURE BOOKS
 |
| 5 stars |
This book introduces readers to numerous animals often mistaken for dinosaurs. I loved it for many reasons. First, the main part is written in poetry. Second, it's nonfiction. Third, Jonny Lambert's art is equal to Steve Jenkins work. Fourth, the back matter is full of additional information about each animal. There is a section titled, What is a Dinosaur? It also includes a timeline showing the epochs each animal existed.
POETRY
 |
| 5 stars |
These poems are pure delight! They are also twisted and somewhat warped. I'm looking forward to sharing some of them with students this coming week. The section of poems on glasses inspired me to write my own poem this week! You can read it here.
NOVELS
 |
| 5 stars |
The writing in this novel is exquisite. It's the story of black Jazz musicians living in Europe at the time of the second world war. It's a powerful story about betrayal and redemption. The list of awards this book has won, or was nominated for, tell you how potent it is.
Esi Edugyan is Canadian.
ADULT NONFICTION
 |
| 5 stars |
This memoir deals with the time the author was diagnosed with leukaemia and the treatment regime she had to endure to get rid of it. It's loaded with gruesome details, truly wretched experiences and episodes of black humour. I knew that the treatment for cancer was harsh, but before reading this book, I really didn't understand what that looked and felt like.
It is beautifully written. I stopped and wrote out a number of passages.
Throughout this memoir, what struck me most was the strength of the relationships she began with, and those she forged during her horrific marathon. I leave you with this quote from the book.
“ Love is not a tree, because trees die. Love is a rock. And not stone that crumbles into dust. It’s the Canadian Shield itself, granite as old is the Earth, solid and unwavering beneath my weak and unsteady feet.”
Manjusha Pawagi is Canadian.
CURRENTLY
I am listening to Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny and reading, with my eyes, Girl in Pieces by by Kathleen Glasgow. The latter has been on my #MustRead list for the last couple of years. I am so glad to finally get to it.
UP NEXT
The next audiobook will be Property of the Rebel Librarian (if it becomes available.) I'm eyeing Ash Boy: A CinderFella Story as a break from the intensity before starting Watch Us Rise by Renée Watson.
PROGRESS ON MY READING GOALS
#MustReadIn2018 11/25 1 in progress
#MustReadNFIn2018 6/12
25 Books by Canadian Indigenous Authors 7/25
25 books by Canadian Authors 23/25
Goodreads Reading Challenge 138/333
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