Ekphrastic Poems

Sorry for my long absence! I've taught four classes since my last post, but I've really lagged behind in posting to this blog. I'll do a whirlwind update today, then get back into the regular rhythm of one post per week.

For this lesson, I brought in several full-color art books from the library and had each student choose a painting or other artwork they'd like to write about. They were encouraged to write from inside the picture and use all their senses to explore what was happening. Here are some results:

I am green and red
with flowers. Please
wear me because
I am pretty. We'll go
to a dance party
and we will sway
like the ocean
to guitars and drums
under the stars.
-Abshiro, after "Self Portrait" by Carmen Lomas Garza

She is a famous person and
she is outside. Oil painting.
Her eyes follow you
everywhere. She looks happy.
People were sad when she died.

The background of the village looks
like war. The color is gold-black.
Tornado coming from far away.
People being poor.
-Safia, after "Mona Lisa" by Leonardo da Vinci

If I was resting in this flower it would be like resting on a cloud with the sun shining on my face and smells like perfume and pink cherry. The stamen looks like a green banana peel. The inside of the flower is like a dark cave with sounds like paper. I have never seen a flower like this one before.
-Khadijo, after "Two Calla Lilies on Pink" by Georgia O'Keefe

He looks like a worm. He looks like a rainbow. He's pretty and nice. He looks curly. He's the longest snake ever. He's playing! He's on the ground in the city. He's powerful and if someone steps on him he'll probably still be alive. He eats cookies. He has a bunch of friends. He has a girlfriend named Francine, the most beautiful snake you've ever seen. He likes to swim in the water.
-Adout, after "Sneaky Snake" by Calvert Norton

Things I Didn't Know I Loved

Back after a long spring break! Today I shared a few passages from a poem by Nazim Hikmet, a Turkish writer who spent much of his adult life as a political prisoner. In the poem, we find him riding a train from Prague to Berlin, watching the world rush by the window and celebrating all the things he never realized he loved: earth, rivers, rainy nights, sparks flying from the engine.

I asked the girls to think of something they had taken for granted, something they didn't even know they loved until it was gone. It could be a small detail about their life back in Africa, a moment shared with a friend or family member who died or moved away, or an object they lost and then missed terribly. Or their poetry could be more like Hikmet's, an effort to notice the everyday beauty surrounding them right now. Here are a few student poems:

I never knew I liked the cat
until I petted her and she
purred like her bones
were breaking.

I never knew I liked Emily
until I made chocolate chip
cookies in her kitchen
under her colorful star light.

I never knew I liked washing dishes,
the bubbles and the soap, and the way
they said pop-pop-pop in my hands.
-Abshiro

The first time I came here I looked at the sky,
and I never knew I liked the sky. The sky
looked different to me and I was
scared because it looked so high.
I didn't know I liked how you smelled
like the donut shop because it made me
hungry, but then I missed it when
you were gone.
-Adout

I didn't know I liked the sun making me hot until the winter.
I didn't know I liked cats until one day I touched one, and it felt soft like ice cream.
I didn't know I liked reading until I read a story. I felt smart and happy.
I didn't know I liked Emily until she went away.
-Saruro

Borrowed Lines

Today I brought in a list of lines from other poems. After reading them aloud and discussing unfamiliar words, each child picked a favorite to serve as a title or first line. I've tried this lesson before, and I love to see how different groups respond in totally different ways. My students at Lawrence Barnes were more drawn to wild, surreal images, and this class preferred simple, down-to-earth ones. Though each poet chose a different line, every single one wrote about night in one way or another:

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
When I was born I forgot
where I was from. Did I come
from Mars or Jupiter? Was I
a donkey being a slave?
A cat scratching people?
When I was born there
was a war, guns shooting,
but I can't remember.
-Safia

Do not go gentle into that good night.
It is dark and the moon
and stars are shining. I hear
frogs and crickets
in the night and I
hear owls.
-Saruro

I stop to smell
the night and
it smells
fresh. If you
close your
eyes it feels
like you
fly.
-Dahiro

those of you in the night sky above the moon:
moon the moon is light, it will always be light.
stars stars always move, anywhere they like.
cloud cloud makes person's face, and it moves anywhere.
-Asho

When I look at the moon I see beautiful stars, they look pretty as flowers. When I look in the moon I see my family, and I always like to look in the moon. When I look in the moon I see my friends having fun with me. Looking in the moon is fun.
-Adout

Food Poems

When the City Market cashier gave me the "Umm, are you pregnant?" look, I knew I had selected a good assortment of foods for my poetry class: the classic combination of pickles, peanut butter, garlic, and chocolate-chip cookies. Yum.

In class, I had the kids eat the foods slowly and give me words for what each one tasted like:

Pickles: sour, vinegary, lemony, sharp, hot, spicy, salty
Peanut Butter: smooth, sweet, creamy, heavy, sticky
Garlic: gross, stinky, strong, bitter, sharp
Cookies: sweet, rich, soft, creamy, chocolatey, sugary

We talked about how eating involves all the senses: seeing the food, hearing what sound it makes when chewed, smelling it, tasting it, and feeling its texture. Surprisingly, dill pickle spears were the biggest hit. They ate the whole jar and even slurped up the juice in paper cups. I asked them to choose one or more foods to write about, using all of their senses and at least one metaphor. The poems were not as serious as in previous weeks, and Adout especially enjoyed writing hers. After mixing three clashing ingredients together, she said, "Ew, that's so stinky." I said, "Stinky as what?" and a very funny (and frank) piece of writing was born.

I mix the pickle juice with the chocolate and peanut butter and it stinks like a skunk. Nobody would love to drink it. Sometimes cheese can be smelly like a skunk when it is tooting. It also stinks like a dog poop. If I tell someone to drink it they will say, "NO! That thing looks like a skunk and it stinks."
-Adout

Pickles are sweet, I like them.
When I drink the juice my belly
feels like when I drink hot coffee.
The pickle juice smells like
acorns. It makes you feel
orange.
-Asho

it's colorful candy it looks like a rainbow
it smells like sugar and ice cream
it feels red and it tastes like chocolate
-Saruro

Seven Word Spill

Today we played a game called Seven Word Spill, an idea from the VSA Arts national network. I had each student choose seven word cards from a bowl, then scramble them on the table, thinking of surprising ways to combine them in sentences. After practicing for a few minutes, I invited them to write a poem including as many words as possible, changing word endings if they liked. Some used all their words early in the poem and selected a few more to challenge themselves.

This is my galaxy.
This is my big sister.
Every night we see an owl in the tree
and every day we stand at the river to fish.
Stay quiet today.
Everything is here now.
It is time to write.
Go take a paper and spill out your words.
When I'm drumming, my seed turns into plants.
My skin is ice.
This is my galaxy.
-Asho

Under a tree I read a book. I fall asleep and I dream the tree is blooming with fire and the sky looks like midnight.
-Dahiro

When I see the light I always sing a song.
I always like to sing and dance.
When I tell my friend a secret, she never tells anybody.
I see a candle. I like the way it burns.
I like my voice when I'm singing, and my voice likes me.
When I sing this song it makes my brother go up and down.
-Adout

Indian Ocean
Light blue like the sky without rain,
she whispers to me from planet earth.
When I touch her, I feel like I'm home
eating a cherry. She feels like fox fur,
clouds covering the moon.
Me and the ocean have secrets for each other.
I promise the ocean I won't tell anyone she speaks to me.
-Safia