Module 6 Poetry Review: Paul B. Janeczko

Module 6 Poetry Review: Paul B. Janeczko
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
Wherever Home Begins: 100 Contemporary Poems

Wherever Home Begins is remarkable, first of all, in the arrangement of the poems collected by Paul B. Janeczko. Emphasizing the theme of place and its importance to us, this editor finely tunes our attention by grouping the poems into clusters, such as garage poems, mining poems, Texas poems, mountain poems, farming poems, street poems, etc., making the reader feel as though she is reading a travelogue, but never boring, always finding a nugget of emotion, or a slip of surprise at each description.
It was interesting that while there is an unsentimental feeling in exploring all these places, emotions still received treatment while relating to a place. Some of the places were happy memories, such as “Dragging Broadway” and “Montauk and the World Revealed Through the Magic of New Orleans, while many others were sad or strongly emotional, as in “In the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit” or “Moving” which ends plaintively (while offering the thoughtful title), “Now, wheels, roll us home, /wherever home begins. Give us /a good journey /and a safe forgetting.”
There was humor as well, appropriately interspersed to offer a light touch. I loved “In the Amish Bakery” with this image: “that goddamned trampoline” where “the whole blessed family /in their black topcoats and frocks, /their severe hair and beards, . . . so much flour dust and leaven- /leaping all together on their /stiff sweet legs toward heaven.” The nice rhyme and alliteration complete its humorous tone.
“Small Farms Disappearing in Tennessee” by Jim Wayne Miller was laugh-out-loud funny. At first, the reader thinks it will be a heart breaking story about “a whole farm family comes awake . . ./to find their farm’s been rolled up like a rug /with them inside it,” only to find out it’s actually tongue-in-cheek, “One missing farm was found intact at the head of a falling creek /in a recently published short story.”
The poetry is mostly unrhymed free verse, with strong imagery, figurative language, and alliteration. A good example of strong imagery is “Spirits” by Charles Harper Webb, evoking a nostalgic mood from the viewpoint of an Indian chief. The area now known as L.A. is negatively described, “They [spirits] slide through alleys where pale boys /with hair in warrior crests fight /for needles to jab in their skinny arms,” in order to establish a contrast with the past, “Where are the owls, they want to know- /the red-tailed hawks that soared over /their hunts, the tortoises, bobcats, /jackrabbits, skunks who gave them power, /were their kin in a boundless world /where everywhere was home.” The mood and images create powerful backward look at a place, tying onto the book’s theme so nicely.
My favorite poet is the still the one with the best, most original and creative uses of figurative language. “Spruce Street, Berkeley,” by Naomi Shihab Nye, ponders what is place is like when a street is named for a tree. There, “it is right that flower /bloom purple and feel like cats, /that people are leaves drifting /downhill in morning fog.” (She cleverly places cats and fog in the same verse. I love how she plays with it.) “Everyone came outside to see /the moon setting like a perfect /orange mouth tipped up to heaven.”
An excellent extended metaphor, though dark, is Donald Justice’s six verse “Bus Stop,”: “Lights are burning /In quiet rooms /Where lives go on /Resembling ours.”
When I found I found the theme of light in six or eight poems stretched over fifteen pages, I exclaimed, again, at the how impeccably placed the poems are. Each one is such a gem, so carefully crafted, and then placed exactly where it can be amplified or echoed by the others. I did not realize how much skill is involved in arranging the poetry. I discovered, once again, that a collection, unremarkable in title, cover, and theme/content, can be a cache of delightful musings. He is much more masterful than I realized, this Janeczko!

Janeczko, Paul B. 1995. Wherever Home Begins: 100 Contemporary Poems. New York: Orchard Books.

Module 6 Poetry Break: Serious Poem

Module 6 Poetry Break: Serious Poem
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens

“If I Could Go Back”
By Alma Fullerton
From Walking on Glass

Introduction: I have two poems to share with you today from this new verse novel, Walking on Glass by Alma Fullerton. It’s just been published. The first poem is called “If I Could Go Back.” I want to know, if you could change anything in history, what would it be?” (Accept all responses.) Listen to see if you hear any of your ideas in this poem.

“If I Could Go Back”
By Alma Fullerton

My teacher asks everyone,
If you could change
anything in history,
what would it be?

Kids say things like,
I’d prevent wars
or Bin Laden and Hitler
wouldn’t have been born.
Other kids nod their heads to agree.

When the teacher asks me,
I say,
“Four months ago,
I would have come home
five minutes earlier.”

Everyone looks away from me
like my face is on
sideways.

Extension: What are you thinking? (Wait for responses.) Could I have a volunteer who would read it again? What is it that happened at this house, do you think? What part of this poem do you like? Jot down in your journal some ideas about what you would like to change in history, and what you would like to change in your personal life. Those might be ideas for future poems.

Here’s another poem, the one the title comes from. I need a volunteer to help me read. We will each read alternate lines. I will read the first line, you will read the second line, and so on, to the end of the poem. See if it gives us any more information about what happened that day he wished he had come home five minutes earlier.

“Walking on Broken Glass”

If Mom came home,
things wouldn’t change.
Her mood would always flip
from bad to worse
in a matter of seconds,
and for the rest of our lives
Dad and I would
be walking on
shards of glass
from a broken
chandelier.

Extension: What are you thinking? What do you notice about the poem? (Accept all comments.) What do you think about the writer’s life? Why?

I will tell you one thing about this verse novel which you can read on the inside cover: his mother is in a suicide-induced coma.

Fullerton, Alma. 2007. Walking on Glass. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

Module 6 Poetry Break: Student Author

Module 6 Poetry Break: Student Author
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens

“Pledge of Affection to a Nerd”
By Laura Tabor, age 16
From Falling Hard: 101 Love Poems by Teenagers, edited by Betsy Franco

Introduction: April is poetry month, and it is also spring, which many people say is the best season for falling in love. Do you agree? Who is in love right now? Who’s got a boyfriend/girlfriend, you’re in a relationship? Good. Okay, think about the last conversation you had, when you were actually together—no phone, email, or text conversations. Try to remember what you thought about while your boyfriend/girlfriend was talking. What do you notice while that person is talking to you? That’s what this poem is about, written by 16 year old Laura Tabor. Do you believe a person can really love a nerd? Listen!

“Pledge of Affection to a Nerd”
By Laura Tabor, age 16

I . . .
. . .drift, lazy, on the comforting breeze
as you rhythmically speak:
computer jargon.
. . .can’t get over how blue your eyes are:
talking about Star Wars.
. . .couldn’t be prouder of you as you recite:
forty-seven digits of pi.
. . .will listen, though I may never understand:
you beat the final level of Escape from Mordor!
. . .want to stay in your arms all evening while you talk about:
ancient war strategy, lunar eclipses, molecules . . .

whispering sweet algorithms in my ear.

Extension: What do you think about the poem? How is punctuation used in this poem? Which part do you like best? Which part(s) make the poem seem real? Could you write a love poem like this, where you alternate you think with what you hear?

Franco, Betsy, ed. (2008) Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Candlewick Press.

Module 5 Poetry Review

Module 5 Poetry Review
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens

What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know
By Sonya Sones

Sones’ 2007 offering followed the very popular What My Mother Doesn’t Know, but stands completely on its own. This free verse novel tells the story from the nerdy guy Robin’s point of view, of how Sophie left her clique to be his girlfriend. The short opening poem, “A Piece of Advice from Me to Me,” uses alliteration of the ‘B’ sound to immediately grab the reader’s interest: “Better brace yourself, /loser. /Because you /are about to be dumped. /Big time.” Robin’s believable voice relates his ups and downs with Sophie at school where he is considered the ultimate loser, excluded from all groups, and at a Harvard art class where he becomes a clique member who is happily one of the gang. He tells his story with all of the shame, joy, lust, jealousy, and rejection of a typical 14 year old guy.

The free verse is very alliterative (above) with occasional rhythm and rhyme, “. . .maybe /we can keep it from seeping in, /keep it from creeping under our skin. /Maybe, if we can just laugh /instead of shattering, /we can somehow /keep all of it from mattering. ” This minimalist style propels the action at a fast page-turning pace, but most of the verse reads like carefully worded prose, “Pretending I’m starving, /trying to avoid eye contact with my parents. /Because if they take a close look at me, /they’ll see how messed up I feel right now.” The ironic touches of humor are plentiful and masterful, as when he hears a young child say, “Don’t be such a ‘Murphy,’” he thinks, “Until now, it hadn’t crossed my mind /that “Murphy” might have earned itself /a permanent spot in the dictionary. /Maybe /when I get home, /I’ll look myself up.”

Robin’s interest in sex is consistent, “Because I wouldn’t want her to get the impression /that I’m a sex-crazed maniac. / Even though I am a sex-crazed maniac.” So when a college girl encourages him, the reader is unsure how he will respond, creating excellent suspense, “Actually touching a girl’s breasts! . . . This /feels amazing . . . /This feels /incredible . . . /This feels /awesome . . . /This feels wrong.” And then, as a though hammering the theme home, there is even a concrete poem, using two words “Yeah, right,” to create the shape of breasts (or a rear end,) called “I Do Not Have a One Track Mind.” Another concrete poem is “I’ve Survived Dinner with My Prying Parents” in the shape of an arrow. For variety, there is an amusing list poem as well, “A Partial List of Mrs. Stein’s Excuses for Coming into the Kitchen Every Five minutes After That to Spy on Us.”

The figurative language, while not abundant, is well placed, as with this simile using an alliterative ‘c,’ “My heart crashed /straight down to my feet /when she told me, /like an elevator with its cable cut.” The imagery, however, is pretty dry and tame, “I rush in the door, /ask her teacher where she sits, hurry to her desk, /and leave /my offerings /on her alter: /a homemade valentine /and a single /rose.” But then, the style propels the action; this is not a lyric.

Robin’s voice, while familiar, is humorous and ironic, keeping the reader’s interest focused on the course of true adolescent love. The ups and downs are very engaging-a perfect reluctant reader choice for male or female, which is unusual for the romance genre.

Sones, Sonya. (2007). What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know. New York: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing.

Module 5 Poetry Break New Poetry

Module 5 Poetry Break New Poetry: Two Love

Poems for High School Students
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens

“Hello, Love”
By Michael Dowell, age 17
From Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers
Edited by Betsy Franco

Introduction: April is poetry month, and April is spring. They say the love bug strikes in the spring. Is anybody here in love? Is anybody here out of love? Do any of you write love poetry? In “Hello, Love,” is this guy in or out of love?

“Hello, Love”

Hello, my old “friend,”
Been a while since
You were here last.

I know why you’ve come,
And I’ll ask you to leave me.

I know you’re a delusion,
Conjured by a fickle one.
Who knows not what
She wants.

You light me up falsely,
Butterflies I haven’t felt
Since a November years ago.

Warping me,
Like I’m drunk, lying
In those leaves again,
Asking for you,
Assured I really want you.

“Well,” I’ll say to you now,
“you’ve whirled me around enough,
I’ll sit this one out,

too dizzy.”

Extension: What do you think of this poem? What did you like? Is he in or out of love? Here’s another one I like, only by a girl. The first line is my favorite. I adore strawberries. What do you think strawberries represent in this poem?

“Testimony”
By LaToya Jackson, age 17

I did it because red strawberries were falling from the sky.
The air was moist and the sky was clear.
A red fire was trying to get free.
There were no strangers there.
I did it because I wanted to try something new.
I wanted to fly above the trees.
Promises were made-to never leave each other,
but I would never do it again.
I did it because I was immature.
I did it because I wanted to be loved.

Extension: What do you think of this one? What is the “it” she speaks of doing? (Sex, probably.) Does this sound like someone who is in love or out of love? What do the red strawberries represent? (Passion) Red is the color of passion. Notice the red fire also, trying to get free. Does that sound like passion?

I read most of these 100 poems in Betsy Franco’s book, Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers, and I found there were more poems about out-of-love than there were about in-love. Why is that, do you think? Does love change?

Franco, Betsy, ed. (2008) Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Candlewick Press.

Module 5 Poetry Break with Refrain
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens

“House Crickets”
By Paul Fleischman
Illustrated by Eric Beddows
From Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices

Introduction: Poetry month is April, and April is spring. What do you think of when you think of spring? (Allow for answers.) Are there any animals that you associate with spring? (Allow for answers.) Do you know how, sometimes, we have favorite animals? Does anyone have a favorite insect? Some people really do like spiders or cockroaches. If I could have a favorite insect, it would be the cricket. It’s the one that makes that noise. (Use Eric Carle’s book, The Very Quiet Cricket, to make the cricket sound.)

Did you know that the Japanese believe that the cricket brings them good luck, so they keep them in little traps or cages in their houses to bring good luck? It’s supposed to be bad luck if you kill one, so when I find one in the house, I capture it in my hands and throw it outside.

Now this poetry book, (holding it up), Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices, may be new to you. It won the Newbery Medal, an award for children's literature, in 1989. It says two voices, so I will need your teacher to be the other voice with me, and then we will let you try it. Listen to see how many of the seasons are mentioned. And see if you catch the metaphor.

(I have bolded the refrain.)

“House Crickets”
By Paul Fleischman
Illustrated by Eric Beddows
From Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices

We don’t live in meadows
crick-et .............................crick-et
or in groves
.....................................................We’re house crickets
.....................................................living beneath
.....................................................this gas stove
crick-et .............................crick-et
Others may worry
crick-et .............................crick-et
about fall
.....................................................We’re scarcely aware
.....................................................of the seasons at all
crick-et .............................crick-et
Spring, to house crickets,
crick-et .............................crick-et
means no more
.....................................................than the time
.....................................................when fresh greens
.....................................................once again grace the floor
crick-et ............................ crick-et
Summer’s the season
crick-et .............................crick-et
for pie crumbs:
.....................................................peach, pear, boysenberry,
.....................................................quince, apricot, plum
crick-et .............................crick-et
Pumpkin seeds tell us
crick-et .............................crick-et
fall’s arrived
.....................................................while hot chocolate spills
.....................................................hint that it’s
.....................................................winter outside.
No matter the month ...............No matter the month
we’ll stay well fed and warm,
.....................................................unconcerned about cold fronts
.....................................................and wind chill and storms,
For while others are ruled ......For while others are ruled
by the sun in the heavens,
.....................................................whose varying height brings
.....................................................the season’s procession,
we live in a world .....................we live in a world
of fixed Fahrenheit
crick-et .............................crick-et
......................................................thanks to our sun:
our unchanging
......................................................reliable
steadfast and stable
bright blue ..................................bright blue
pilot light. ....................................pilot light.

Extension: What do you think of the poem? What did you think of the two voices? How many seasons were mentioned? (All four.) What was the metaphor? (Sun compared to pilot light of a gas oven.) When words in a poem are repeated, it’s called a refrain. What word or words were repeated in this poem? (Crick-et.) How did having a refrain add to the experience of the poem? (It feels like there is a cricket interrupting the poem.) Are there two other voices who would like to read it?

Fleishman, Paul. (1988) Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices. Illus. by Eric Beddows. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

Module 4 Poetry Break: Biographical Poem

Module 4 Poetry Break
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens











http://www.lladro.com/sculptures/imgCat/imagennor/01012507.jpg

“Earliest Memory”
By Marilyn Nelson and illustrated by Deborah Dancy
From The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa

Introduction: I am sharing a poem with you today by Marilyn Nelson, called “Earliest Memory,” from this little book called, The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. Have you ever thought about your earliest memory? Think about it. Would anyone tell about it? (I will affirm the responses.)

This poem is the earliest memory of a five year old African boy, in Africa, in the year 1735, approximately. Now his culture is very different from ours, but some problems stay the same. His parents are fighting.
Also, think about, what kind of poetry is this?
Listen while I read aloud.

“Earliest Memory
(ca. 1735)” by Marilyn Nelson

Among the Dukandarra any man
who can afford to marries many wives.
Each wife has her own house and her own land,
and honor. A man marries first for love,
then for desire, or to beget sons.
By custom, the first wife has to approve
of the co-wives, who will learn their husband’s snore,
his taste for spices. They will be co-wives for life.

Rashly, my father married a glowing, black
sixteen-year-old girl. When the news broke at home,
with her infant tied in front and her lap child on her back,
my mother took my hand and walked toward the morning sun.
We walked and walked and walked and walked and walked.
When we were hungry my mother set us down
and gathered fruit. At night, under an arc
of Divine Protection, we lay down and slept on the ground,

to the uneasy music of distant roars.
At dawn my mother woke us to walk on.
Five days in the desert, then the green answer to prayers:
a vast open land as beautiful as our own.
My mother arranged to leave me in the care
of a wealthy farmer, far from my home and kin.
Then she walked away and left me standing there.
For the first time in my life, I was alone.


Extension: First of all, let’s identify the kind of poetry? (It’s narrative, telling a story, and it’s free verse.) Do you like it? What questions do you have about the content of the poem? (We discuss these.) What do you like or not like about it? (Affirm responses.) How do you feel at the end of this poem? (Afraid, probably.) Let’s read it again, with three volunteer readers, one for each verse.

In my earliest memory, I, too, am alone, only I don’t remember feeling afraid. I remember feeling unsupervised, sort of free, because my mother was incapacitated with sea-sickness, lying on the bunk bed with my baby brother, while I played on the floor. (We were on a military ship sailing from Los Angeles to Adak, Alaska, which is an island in the Pacific. I was about two and a half.) How many of our earliest memories have strong emotional content? Is that why we remember them? Could you write a poem about your earliest memory, or about a time when you were alone?

I want to tell you about the boy and this book, The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. It is the true story of a slave named Venture. His story is the only one recorded in history that tells of being in Africa and America, and it’s absolutely fascinating reading. I could not put it down. What this man suffered is horrible. I couldn’t believe how evil both white and black people were to him, yet he never gave up. His original story, in his own voice, is on the left hand side of the page, with a newly written poem about the events he is narrating, on the right side of the page. It also has this nice art on the pages that unifies the book and makes me feel sad. If you want to find out what happens to him, you will have to read it. I recommend it to you.

Nelson, Marilyn. (2008). The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. Illustrated by Deborah Dancy. Honesdale, Pennsylvania: Wordsong.