Scuttle

by Hugh MacLeod at Gapingvoid.com

My new word in Ed DeCaria's Madness! 2012 Poetry Writing Craziness Tournament (subtitled with the best and truest subtitle ever: "Kids' Poetry. Under Pressure.")

is

SCUTTLE.

And who am I "versing"?

(In kid lingo, "versing" means "competing against," but isn't it the perfect word to mean "competing against in a poetry tournament"???)

I am versing Julie Larios.

So, yes. I am dreaming big.
And I am working hard.

I think I'm pretty close to a final draft that I like and can be proud of.

Cavalier

My second round word in the Madness 2012 poetry tournament is

CAVALIER.

Um...yeah.
Not as easy as whacked.
I got stuck for a REALLY long time.
But then, just like last time, all the words fell into place. I like it.

My poem has been submitted (without kid testing this time). Voting will begin sometime tomorrow.

Poetry Friday -- Whacked

Flickr Creative Commons Photo by Peasap

BIRTHDAY PARTY — CHECKLIST

by Mary Lee Hahn

Children — driven

Presents — given

Cake — gobbled

Apples — bobbled

Donkey tail — tacked

Piñata – whacked

Games — played

Mom’s nerves — frayed

I still can't believe I won my bracket in Round One of Madness! 2012 -- the Children's Poetry Writing Tournament over at Ed DeCaria's blog Think Kid, Think!

This poem surprised me. My prompt was "whacked." I have two pages of brainstorming and false starts in my notebook before the phrases "Donkey tail -- tacked" and "Piñata -- whacked" show up. Then my poem changed from a bad kid with a baseball bat to a birthday party. 

I didn't think about what a risk it would be to submit a poem with only 18 words. I guess the moral of that story is that word choice is just about everything in poetry. (Maybe in all writing?)

The poems in the second flight of round one are still open for voting. Go over and enjoy all the brand-new sparkly-fresh poems (and vote)! Then go to the Poetry Friday Roundup at Greg's blog, GottaBook.

Madness! 2012 -- Voting is LIVE!

Head on over to the Live Scoreboard on Ed DeCaria's blog Think Kid, Think! Almost all of the Round One, Flight One poems are up and ready for your votes. Yes, mine is there, but take a minute to enjoy ALL of the "Kids' Poetry. Under Pressure."

Whacked

The first round words have been sent out and 64 Poets (and "poets") around the interwebs are busily crafting poems for Ed DeCaria's Madness! 2012 (Kids' Poetry. Under Pressure.)

Go to Ed's webpage. Explore the rules, the pairings, the Poets (and "poets") -- all found in the "Madness! 2012" dropdown you can find underneath the word THINK.

My first round word is WHACKED. My poem is written, kid-tested, and submitted. Sometime tomorrow morning, the voting will open. Go check out all the first round pairs. Vote for the best poem in each pair, then half of us will get a new prompt and start writing all over again...and again and again, for your amusement AND ours, until all of the tournament brackets are filled and the winning Poet (or "poet") is proclaimed.

Poetry Friday: MADNESS!

The game is ON!

Ed DeCaria, at Think, Kid, Think, is hosting a March Madness Tournament of Children's Poetry.

There are 64 poets signed up to play...including ME!

There are brackets and seeds and all kinds of other things about tournaments that I don't really understand.

But there is also fun, creativity, spontaneity, voting, and...did I mention already? FUN!

I need some fun.

I woke up this morning thinking about the Poetry Friday post I hadn't yet written, and this is the poem that immediately came to mind. "I am overtired / Of the great harvest I myself desired." ...And I'm not talking about apple picking here, either.

AFTER APPLE PICKING

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.

Myra has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Gathering Books.

Poetry Friday: Sneak Peek

J. Patrick Lewis generously shared the galleys of his new collection of riddle poems, illustrated with (pardon the gushing) precious illustrations by Lynn Munsinger. This fall collection (Chronicle Books), titled SPOT THE PLOT: A RIDDLE BOOK OF BOOK RIDDLES, contains thirteen riddle-poems whose answers are children's book titles!!!

Pat gave us permission to share with you one of the poems from this new collection. While Rapunzel's and Pinocchio's poems are probably my favorites, I'll share one from a more recent children's book:



Dear Mr. Farmer,

The letter we're typing
goes under GRIPING!
This barn is too cold,
not climate-controlled.
If we have to shiver,
we don't deliver.
No bedding, no butter.
No blankets, no udder.

Stop the madness.
End the battle.

Sincerely yours,
The Cattle


















The round up today is at Wild Rose Reader.