Showing posts with label April. Show all posts
Showing posts with label April. Show all posts

Monday, April 7, 2014

Ken Nesbitt's Favorite Words

Spatula.
Linoleum.
Persnickety.
Bermuda.
Cattywumpus.
Flabbergasted.
Fuddy-duddy.
Gouda.

Nincompoop
and scuttlebutt.
Kerfuffle
and gazebo.
Dipthong.
Macadamia.
Skedaddle
and placebo.

Spackle.
Grackle.
Folderol.
Galoshes.
Dollop.
Frizzle.
Uvula.
Mustachioed.
Jacuzzi.
Juju.
Swizzle.

Tighty-whitey.
Hoity-toity.
Hurly-burly.
Spleen.
Piggly-wiggly.
Artsy-fartsy.
Namby-pamby.
Preen.

That's my list
of favorite words,
the greatest
words around.
I really don't care
what they mean.
I love the way
they sound.
--Kenn Nesbitt

Monday, April 18, 2011

Where is Springtime?

CATERPILLAR

by Ann Whitford Paul


Chapter One


Caterpillar creeps,
searching for a secluded twig
where her drama
can unfold.


Chapter Two


Caterpillar spins a cocoon—
its snug study
to better imagine
wings and flight.


Chapter Three

Caterpillar is gone.
A new character—
Moth—flutters about
the sunlit page.

© 2011 Ann Whitford Paul. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

When the Teacher Isn't Looking by Kenn Nesbitt

When the teacher's back is turned,
we never screamand shout.
Never do we drop our books
and try to freak her out.

No one throws a pencil
at the ceiling of the class.
No one tries to hit the fire alarm
and break the glass.

We don't cough in unison
and loudly clear our throats.
No one's shooting paper wads
or passing little notes.

She must think we're so polite.
We  never make a peep.
Really, though, it's just because
we all go right to sleep.

K. Nesbitt

Monday, April 11, 2011

Art + Music = Poetry

Art Space


by Susan Marie Swanson




When my brother writes stories late at night
under his blankets with a light,
he hides an entire stadium
under there—
hotdogs for sale,
baseballs slammed through the air—
and Mom doesn’t even care!


But the choir that I sing in
takes a lot of space.
It takes time to get us organized,
everyone in place.
Once we’re all where we belong
we put the words and notes
of our song
where they belong, too.
It’s tricky to do.
But when the piano starts to play,
we tell trouble to fly away.
Our voices are so strong,
they sweep away worry and gloom.
We fill the whole room!


©2011 Susan Marie Swanson. All rights reserved.

Can I just say how much I love that Susan Marie Swanson mixed poetry
with art and music in Art Space, thus hitting the trifecta for me?
Yes, it's my blog, so I can say it! Of course, the fact that it's
about so much more - siblings, imagination, baseball, and stadiums
under the bedsheets just to name a little - is what truly makes it so
wonderful....

Susan's poetry sings... and if you follow the link here and click
"Closer Look" you can hear her poem Trouble Fly sung by a children's
choir in a piece composed by Patricia McKernon Runkle. And you can by
the sheet music, too. How cool is that? Just like last time, when she
shared her poem Wonders, I remain a huge fan and am so happy to have
Susan here as part of 30 Poets/30 Days.
(from Gregory K's post about poetry)

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Siguan by Joseph Bruchac





Siguan

by  Joseph Bruchac

I play my flute
and the small birds answer,
their wings fill the sky
like bright colored leaves.

I play my flute
and the lakes and rivers
open their eyes
after their long sleep.

I play my flute
and the earth casts off
her white blanket,
clothes herself in green.

I play my flute
and the southern wind,
its breath soft as the fawn,
comes dancing again.

I play my flute
and the children laugh
for they know my song
and remember my name.

I am Siguan,
I am Spring.

Friday, April 1, 2011

April is National Poetry Month

A poem a day:

April is the Coolest Month

by Douglas Florian

It's said April's the cruelest month,
But I say it's the coolest month.
The grass grows green.
The flowers bloom.
Most all the outdoor sports resume.
The weather warms.
The terns return.
On nature walks we talk and learn.
There's no more ice.
There's no more snow.
The creeks and brooks and rivers flow.
It's time to fish
Or climb a tree.
It's when we worship poetry.
And April's when
Our TAX is due.


Perhaps it is the cruelest, too.

http://gottabook.blogspot.com/2011/04/douglas-florian-april-is-coolest-month.html

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/841035608/poetry-spread-the-word