Poem of the Day

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Yellow Letters

 

When my grandad passed away

We found beneath the floor

A beat up, sturdy wooden box

We’d never seen before

 

The reason that we found it

Was a floor board out of place

It was sticking out and I tripped up

And landed on my face

 

I could tell it was important

And I removed it with great care

Grandad loved us all so much

What would he hide down there?

 

Mum looked surprised as I was

As she opened up the lid

Slowly then, her tears rolled down

As she found out what he hid

 

Her face had turned from flush to pale

As though she’d seen a ghost

So many yellowed envelopes

He never meant to post.

 

Mum said that Grandad never wrote

While serving in the war

And all these papers sitting here

She’d never seen before

 

We sat and read together

Sharing tears and love as well

My grandad never wrote of war

As it was nothing short of hell

 

He couldn’t say the words out loud

But these letters had ensured

That maybe one day later

We would know what he’d endured

 

We placed them back into the box

And closed the lid up tight

I felt my grandad was at peace

When I fell asleep that night

 

For though he never posted them

Those letters got him through

For the final one said ‘War is done!

I’m coming home to you’

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12

Sioban said: I just recently received copies of my Grandad’s war medals and have a special box to place them in, I think that put the idea to the front of my mind.

 

Poem of the Day

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Bubbles

Big, bubbles floating in the air.

Soapy, sudsy, spheres,

I can see my reflection in you.

Magical colours reflect,

Fragile and soft,

I make a precious wish.

To be free just like you,

To see the world in rainbow colours,

If I just look close enough,

I will see all the wonder and beauty,

That is all around.

Karen Hendriks
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2

poetry-prompt-2

Meet the poet: Kristin Martin

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Kristin lives in Adelaide in a house sort-of-near the sea with her husband, two sons, three turtles, four goldfish, five spiny leaf insects and a canary named Stephen Fly. Her poems have appeared in Tadpoles in the Torrens (Wakefield Press, 2013), and in the magazines Blast Off and Orbit. Kristin’s adult poetry collection, Paint the Sky, will be published by Ginninderra Press later this year.

Today Kristin tells us about her love of poetry and shares a little about her writing process…

I love writing poems; that’s what makes me a poet. I wouldn’t write poems if I didn’t love doing it. If you love writing poems then you are a poet too.

Many of my poems come from things I see or hear that make me laugh, or make me stop and say, “Wow! Isn’t that amazing! I want to tell people about that!” But, just because I think something is funny or amazing, it doesn’t mean other people will too. So I have to show how amazing or funny it is. One way to do this is to make up a story, with interesting characters and a setting and a beginning, middle and an end. I insert the amazing thing I saw into the story, and I write the story as a poem.

A few years ago, when I was travelling around northern Australia with my family, I was amazed by all the places where we saw frogs. We saw a tiny frog on the mirror in the girls’ toilets at a caravan park. We saw an even tinier frog siting behind the cold-water tap on the sink. And we saw a huge frog hiding under the toilet seat. I wanted to tell people about all these amazing places you could find frogs, so I decided to write a frog poem. To make my poem more interesting I developed a story about a child who has lots of frogs in her (or his) house. I pretended I was the child, and I was up at night, creeping around my house with a torch looking for the frogs. Here is the poem I wrote.

 

A Night of Frogs

A frog lives in our garden
in a pond beneath the tree.
I hear it croak at bedtime
as it says ‘goodnight’ to me.

A frog lives by our back door
on a post below the light.
I sneak outside to say ‘hello’
because it’s only there at night.

A frog lives in our laundry
in the corner of the wall.
I check when I come back inside
to make sure it didn’t fall.

A frog lives in our kitchen
in the space behind the sink.
It freezes in the torchlight
when I get myself a drink.

A frog lives in our bathroom
and I don’t know what to do
because it isn’t where it should be.
Yuk! It’s swimming in the loo!

My mum comes in the bathroom,
plants a kiss upon my head.
‘The frogs are fine just where they are
but you should be in bed!’

I also like to play with rhymes. On the same trip to northern Australia I was sitting on the edge of a beautiful, warm spring, dangling my feet in the water and watching my children swim, when a woman walked up with a black, stocky dog. I wanted to jump up and ran away because the dog looked so scary. But I made myself stay, because the water was lovely and warm, and told myself to be wary of the dog, but not scared. Immediately I realised I had a rhyme: “Some dogs are scary, you have to be wary.” I loved that rhyme! Over the next few weeks I thought of other rhymes for dogs; tiny dogs and jumpy dogs and busy dogs. I wrote them all in my notebook, then chose my favourite rhymes and arranged them in the order that sounded best. But the poem wasn’t finished until I came up with the ending. A good ending is one of the most important things in a poem.

Dogs

 Some dogs are scary.
You have to be wary.

Some dogs are fat.
They could squash you flat.

Some dogs are tiny
and yappy and whiny.

Some dogs are old
and can’t do what they’re told.

Some dogs are jumpy.
They make me feel grumpy.

Some dogs are fast.
I just watch them run past.

Some dogs are busy
and rush round till they’re dizzy.

But my dog is great.
She’s my very best mate.

 

 

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Bullies

With the eye in the back of his head

he sees them coming —

 

eight-year-old breakers,

baby-hard, baby-soft.

 

Their elegant space-machine

could swallow him,

 

drown him once and for all

in a dish of air.

 

They are the masters —

skills bred in the bone.

 

He freezes

as they expect

 

though a voice inside him squeaks

I . ..Words cut his tongue,

 

weigh in his mind

like a bruise.

Katherine Gallagher

(Published in Them & Us, Bodley Head, 1993)

  • Katherine says: Your poetry prompt #26  HELP reminded me of occasions in schools and elsewhere when I’ve come up against bullying.Poetry Prompt #26

 

 

 

 

Poem of the Day

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The Happy Cricket

 

There was once a little cricket,

Who was happy as could be.

He was chirpy before breakfast.

He  was chirpy after tea.

He was chirpy when the sun rose

He was chirpy when it set.

When it comes to being chirpy,

No more chirpy could you get!

 

At one time when he was chirping

As the sun came up at dawn,

He was hopping through the flowers;

He was jumping on the lawn;

But, quite suddenly, a sprinkler

Shot him with a shower of spray

And he didn’t feel like chirping

Till the sprinkler went away.

 

Now this jolly little cricket

Really  loved to have a dance,

He would look around for partners

When he ever had the chance.

They would waltz around the kitchen;

They would jig right down the hall.

Where they really kicked their heels up

Was the weekly cricket ball!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #23

Poetry Prompt #22

Monty says: Lacking inspiration, I tried imagination and hit on a cricket ball!

Poem of the Day

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 Night Friend

 

He pads down our street

in the dark

when I’m in bed

closes swinging gates

puts away left-out bikes

finds lost cricket balls

checks the street lights are on

and our front door shut tight.

 

In the daytime he rests

inside the big round pipe

with the metal grille

under the road.

 

He’s my quiet, night-time friend.

My Elephant.

 

Except on Wednesdays

when he goes stomping wild

clunking clatter-crashing

grabbing munching tossing

leaving,

all along the street,

knocked-over

lid-swinging

rubbish bins.

Glenys Eskdale
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22

Poetry Prompt 22

Word play with class

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Poetry in the Upper Primary Classroom

by Patrick Dower

‘Just as many PE teachers say “don’t use physical activity as punishment” to prevent students associating negative emotions with being active, I try my best to ensure students associate poetry with fun.’

The process of introducing in-depth poetry study to my class was gradual and – at least initially – incidental. As with any teaching approach, it was only once I recognised student interest that I began to consider the potential in a poetry focused Literacy unit. Prior to that, I had embedded the study of song lyrics and poems into Social & Emotional Learning lessons as a stimulus for discussion and personal reflection. These lessons helped create relevance in text from which the students had previously appeared detached. Discussing and comprehending the poems with a personal focus also assisted them in gaining the confidence required to study and compare a variety of poems in-depth and, most importantly, find enjoyment in reading and creating works of written art.

Poetry in Social & Emotional Learning

I regularly use songs as the stimulus for discussions in my Social & Emotional Learning lessons. I will generally read through the lyrics of the song prior to playing the music, particularly if it is a song they are unlikely to know. To ensure the primary focus is placed on the lyrics, I will often play the song on my guitar and sing, rather than use the recording.

Songs which I have used include, but are not limited to, The Road by George Harrison, focusing on the different paths students may take in their learning and progress, and Second Best by Hudson Taylor, which prompted a discussion on not accepting the putdowns of others and striving to achieve your best. Whilst these messages are not necessarily what was intended by the artist, they take on this form as the students relate them to their own lives.

The most powerful example, however, was the first time I used a song of my own. Addressing a specific social issue which had arisen in the class, I played a song I had written several years prior entitled Burgundy & Grey. The underlying theme of the song is that regardless of how well we think we know our acquaintances, we can never be entirely certain what is going on in their lives and how this may be affecting their behaviours. The class dissected it to within an inch of its life and were highly sympathetic towards the central character – a young girl named Keeley. It remained a regular topic of conversation throughout the year. The most powerful aspect of this class, however, was when they found out it was my own work.

After sharing my own writing, I noticed an increased willingness to experiment in their own and seek my feedback. They were more willing to share with the class and refer to their own experiences within their writing. It was an incredibly powerful moment in the context of our class and for me as a teacher.

From here, I was able to write poems specifically for use in the class – such as one entitled Sadness, which explored the difference between emotions and mental illness through the eyes of child whose Father had depression.

Poetry for Fun

Just as many PE teachers say “don’t use physical activity as punishment” to prevent students associating negative emotions with being active, I try my best to ensure students associate poetry with fun. We will regularly play rhyming games and re-write song lyrics as a class. One highlight was altering the words of Fight Song by Rachel Platten to be our ‘Year Five Song’ and performing it in assembly. Similarly, as part of a focus on the work of Shakespeare, the class enjoyed altering the lyrics of pop songs to fit into the format and style of a Shakespearean sonnet.

Poetry in English

My year level partner and I also implemented two English specific poetry units.

The first involved the performance of paired poems by Paul Fleischman. These are fantastic for getting students up in front of their peers reading poetry.

In the second, which lasted for most of Term 4, we used A Children’s Introduction to Poetry by Michael Driscoll to introduce the class to a variety of poetic styles, including villanelles, sonnets and limericks, as well as the work of specific poets, such as Poe, Blake and Shakespeare. After reading about the style of writer, the students would either respond with a poem of their own in that style or through other means, such as creating a film version of The Raven.

Poetry Club

This year I am in the process of starting a lunch time poetry club for Year 5 and 6 students. I hope to only facilitate this group, as the students – many of whom were part of my class last year – use their own interests and experiences to direct their writing and study.

Poem of the Day

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Fishing woes

by Jenny Erlanger

 

I felt such delight

with the tug of its bite

and its fight till the end to be free.

But now that my fish

has been served on a dish

I just wish it were back in the sea.

 

Spreading the word

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ABC Local radio – a greatly under-utilised resource?

by Stephen Whiteside

I was very excited when my collection of rhyming verse/bush poetry for children, The Billy That Died With Its Boots On and Other Australian Verse was published by Walker Books in May last year. Walker did a beautiful job of putting the book together, and I felt confident that it would do well.

However, I was a little disappointed with what I felt was a lack of publicity. I made my own efforts, and did manage to secure an interview on ABC Local radio in Melbourne (774) on a Monday afternoon during the school holidays, but that was about it.

Then, when the book won a Golden Gumleaf for Book of the Year at the Australian Bush Laureate Awards during the Tamworth Country Music Festival in January this year, I realised I had the ‘hook’ I needed. It was particularly gratifying – and of interest to the media – that a book for children had won an award that is ostensibly an award for books for adults.

I decided to target ABC Local radio once again and, again, my home town, Melbourne came through. I secured an interview with Libby Gorr on a Sunday morning. However, I had no success with the other capital cities.

It then occurred to me that my natural constituency, given that the book was ‘bush verse’, was probably rural and regional Australia. With this in mind, I began to approach some of the smaller ABC Local radio stations. I quickly struck gold.

As a general rule, responses fell into one of three categories.

  1. The presenter loved bush poetry, and pounced on the opportunity to interview. (This happened a couple of times.)
  1. The station had no interest in the book unless I was visiting their town, which I wasn’t. (This also happened quite a few times.)
  1. The station was interested in the book, but needed some local connection with the book to justify an interview. This also happened on quite a number of occasions, and was where the challenge began.

I secured a state-wide interview in Ballarat by explaining the history of my various ancestors in rural Victoria. I secured an interview in south west Queensland by discussing the influence of Banjo Paterson on my work. (Paterson wrote Waltzing Matilda in this part of Australia.) I secured a couple of interviews in South Australia by discussing the influence of CJ Dennis on my work. (Dennis was born in South Australia, and lived there as a child and young adult.) I have secured an interview in Albany, Western Australia, by explaining that there are poems about whales in the book. (We will do the interview as soon as the whales arrive!) I have also secured an interview in Tamworth, because that is where I won the award.

I should add that all of these interviews (13 now in total) have been conducted without my leaving Melbourne. A few have been live, but most were pre-recorded. Most have been conducted on my mobile phone. I attended the ABC Soutbank Studios for the interview with Libby Gorr.

Of particular interest was the Ballarat interview, where I was placed in a ‘Tardis’ in Southbank. These are highly sophisticated studios that allow the interviewee to sound as though they are in the same studio as the interviewer, even though they may be many miles away.

My favourite interviews have been with the smallest stations in far off corners of this huge continent. The interviewers tend to be more passionate, the interviews longer, and the questions more interesting.

Do any of these interviews sell books? I don’t know, and I probably never will. I cannot see how they could do any harm, however, and they are great fun. Of course, the number of people listening to these programmes is likely to be less than with the large metropolitan stations, but there is nothing to be done about that.

My own feeling is that these smaller rural and regional ABC Local radio stations are a highly valuable and probably greatly under-utilised resource for authors trying to sell their books.

Poem of the Day

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Did you now?

by Neridah McMullin

 

Thought I might stay

Home today.

Safe.

Secure.

Did you now?

 

Thought I might

Miss you,

too

Much.

Did you now?

 

Thought maybe

Cos’ you’re smart,

You could

Homeschool me?

Did you now?

 

The house needs

A vacuum.

Doggy doo to

Be picked up,

So much work.

Didn’t you know?

 

Thought I might,

But now…

I think

I miss my friends.

I’ll go get ready.

You go do that now.