POEM WITH ME

Whenever possible I have a little fun with my creative writing classes with Magnetic Poetry.

This semester, while cleaning up from our play-day, I found some nice word combos, and isn’t that the point of Magnetic Poetry?

So, c’mon, poem with me…

Comment with your creation!

No, you don’t have to use them in that order…. 😉

DRAW YOURSELF

At UMES, where I teach creative writing, I am trying to get my students interested in participating in a play about body positivity by (hopefully) writing or performing an individual piece.

To do that, I modeled:

#1. Drawing a picture of yourself, and then labelling your features (that is me, above)

#2. Writing a paragraph explaining your labels.

#3. Cutting the paragraph up into verse.

Did it go well for them? I’m not sure. So far no one has spontaneously volunteered!

It did go well for me. I have a whole new poem that I will attempt, in the coming months, to publish. Boy, that publishing thing is a slow process. My sympathy to those who ask me to publish them, and have to wait for me. There’s just not enough hours in the day.

In any case….

If you were to draw yourself, how would you label yourself, and why?

Poem with me, won’t you?

PS: I was wearing a mask when I did this drawing, but I drew me without it because it was an important part of who I am to show that I am waaaay toooo happy, all the time. It’s weird. Masks aren’t. Take care of each other. xo

TOO HAPPY (Holland Taylor is the best!):

POEM WITH ME

Whenever possible I have a little fun with my creative writing classes with Magnetic Poetry.

This semester, while cleaning up from our play-day, I found some nice word combos, and isn’t that the point of Magnetic Poetry?

So, c’mon, poem with me…

Comment with your creation!

No, you don’t have to use them in that order…. 😉

“Is it Work If You Do it From Home?”

Wow. I hope Nadja doesn’t mind me pointing you to her blog.

This post is just so on point.

I absolutely get her, as I sit here stealing a few minutes to write while Sophie is in an Outschool class.

Man, I wasn’t making it through the last year of homeschooling without Outschool.

And I was just thinking, yesterday, on a walk with the dog (who, since the pandemic, demands several each day, but, hey, how freaking boring is being a dog? I get it, my handsome Oliver.), how there were about 3 times over the last year where I had a “come to Jesus” meeting with my husband and daughter over homeschooling. Sure, Sophie loved practicing her instruments, taking art classes on Outschool, or doing science experiments with Dad. But math or grammar with Mom? Ho, oh, oh, no. “It’s not fair!” I whined. Yet, looking back on it on the walk yesterday, I think that, all-in-all, we did okay.

There’s something about motherhood though; a lot is expected of motherhood, and little is given in terms of respect for it. It’s like “Do the best freaking job at this of anyone, anywhere! And we’ll tell you how much more important what we’re doing is, and, if you screw up even an iota, we’ll tell you that too.” *sigh*

On the other hand, I feel like I am generally doing okay at raising a really nice kid who is truly dedicated to music and art, and can and will practice both independently. As, when I was a child, I wouldn’t practice anything independently (besides hiding well and reading), I think I’m doing a better job than my own, always angry, mother. It’s funny to call it a job, though, isn’t it? It both is, and isn’t, a job.

And I love every minute of being with my daughter, and I also want some minutes without her.

In any case, Nadja did a wonderful piece that I think will truly resonate with you, and her other writing ain’t bad either, as you can see in this piece.

FROM MY TEACHER, ABOUT TEACHERS

A wonderful piece from my very first poetry teacher, Chris Buckley:

Chris Buckley

Teachers

Feeling nostalgic. I had a wonderful time working with Chris. He taught me to like other’s poetry, in addition to writing my own. And I believe I had, at the time, a terrible horrendous perm, so he was extra nice to work with me.

Ahhh…. the past.