a WILD lesson

a WILD lesson

For more articles on today’s topic prompt – wild –
look for them at Live Your Poem, tamed by Irene Latham,
who is celebrating a 10th Anniversary of Live your Poem!

I

Wild oceans

c. all rights reserved  Jan Godown Annino

c. all rights reserved
Jan Godown Annino

At graduation from Coastal Systems Class last

week, I brought some of my mollusks. The animals were long dead (not by

my hand.)

unnamed-10

(I am holding my rugged old conch)

Ever since my pudgy toddler hand picked up a Jersey shore

clam, I’ve been lured to shores to collect more.

c.2015 all rights  eserved JanGodownAnnino

c.2015 all rights eserved JanGodownAnnino

My pink Queen conch here ( found empty on Cayman Island sands)

amplified a traditional Pomp + Circumstance played

on another student’s phone, during the awarding of our certificates.

The pale, rugged Queen conch, a family relic from the mid-1800s

(fuzzy on the decades) found a student who knew what to do with

the sliced-off tip.

She got everyone’s attention.

c. 2015 all rights reserved Rugged queen conch is a horn, again

c. 2015 all rights reserved
Rugged queen conch is a horn,
again

The original owner sounded it long ago on the Delaware River

as he rounded bends. Family legend says this river trumpet belonged

to our relative, maybe even the boatman who used it as a horn.

I feel honored that it is entrusted to me.

A Wild Horn, Plenty
by Jan Godown

Conch spiral leads me inward

unwinding a calcium chamber

a big grit at birth

queenly large at death

How many years did this

creature vacuum sea grass beds

before a plucking by man

from coastal waters

I ask it

Who ate you

Who sliced your tip, making you into a tool

How many times did your dead chamber

trumpet

Aural warning of a barge’s path

Siren saving river travelers lives

Many times I pet your shell, wondering this

©2015JanGodownAnnino

II

Wild child

You will likely have similar remembrances to mine,
of two often-read children’s books with wild in their titles.
So I won’t spend a buncha time with them here.

WILD WILD SUNFLOWER CHILD, ANNA is probably the first
book I read our daughter that she remembers me reading
to her. When I want to look at it, I can’t find it among the
hundreds of books on my wall of shelves. It’s in her room.
And she is post-college now.

It helped that her name is Anna.
But it more perfectly worked that Nancy White Carlstrom’s
tumbling words celebrating a child in nature, matched our Anna’s whirling
days splashing and dashing. But a child of any name and their parent
will want to run into the wild with this one. The crownng piece of the creativity
is the abandon Jerry Pinkney brings to his paintings of character Anna at the babbling
brook, blowing on the dandelion, always a spinning, turning, wild child.
I hope this will call you to go back to be wild with this book again or meet it, fresh.
Here is a peek of what awaits in it, by Nancy White Carlstrom.

c. Nancy White Carlstrom and Jerry Pinkney, WILD WILD SUNFLOWER CHILD ANNA

c. Nancy White Carlstrom and Jerry Pinkney, WILD WILD SUNFLOWER CHILD ANNA

Lifting up the pressing stone
beetles rushing giddy

Silent spinning
buzzing, blinking
breathing rainbows

©Nancy White Carlstrom


WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE
is even more wild a walk
through childhood than I remember, when read by
wild man actor Christopher Walken.
That’s all I’m sayin’. Go listen to what Walken does
with Maurice Sendak’s masterpiece. WILD!

And remember to congratulate Irene Latham at Live Your Poem (link above)

April 24, 2015 Poetry Friday What Are You Wearing? and prelude to Progressive Poem lines

DSCN2110  What are YOU wearing to Poetry Friday?

 

Hats on! National Poetry Month is this merry merry month of April, a time when folks canvas closets for lighter, flightier,

spring fling frocks (my heavy Big Bird costume socks are a mash up with spring sandals.) I tip my hat to the one and only poet who provides NPM with a month-long bead on how connected some of us feel to the vests, shoes, shirts, skirts, scarves, boots, belts & the sundry other mottled frippery & finery we array ourselves in.

And that poet is the talented Laura Shovan at AUTHOR AMOK. (If you are seeking today’s Poetry Friday host, please visit

NO WATER RIVER & the talented Renee LaTulippe

SKIRTING

But back to our What Are You Wearing? topic, for a roundly wild wrap up on skirts – please unbutton the April 22, 2015 AUTHOR AMOK page. There, Laura, as we have mentioned, hosts
Donna JT Smith’s silky poems. On skirts.

Donna’s contribution enfolds a deft tutu drawing & zippy skirt images, including fun skirts her daughter created, such as one skirt her gal whipped up from recycling classic menswear ties. It’s a sweet whirl. And I can imagine it flapping at the beach over a swimsuit or in a summer parade of style.

If you haven’t gotten too wrapped up in those wraps that run from waist to various lengths (someone please share your synonym for skirt? I can’t conjure up one today) I’ve provided a skirt poem for Author Amok, April 24, 2015 – that’s today.   

Laura, appreciations to you, for including me in this ensemble.

BETTY MAE TIGER JUMPER

My contribution is about a woman who is remembering a beloved homemade skirt she missed as a child, one that was far away from her as she studied in boarding school. The poem stems from a person so memorable & important in history, that I went on to write about her in newspapers & magazines & later, when I wrote books, I was able to present her story to young readers in picture book biography format. I met this woman as she sat at a table outdoors, selling skirts and jackets & I was among the purchasers. Each clothing item she offered was sewn by her family or friends; some were made by her. The poem is a tribute to this high-achiever I knew a long time before I wrote about her – Betty Mae Tiger Jumper, elected leader of the Seminole Tribe of Florida (elected, 1967.)

 

APRIL’S APPAREL at AUTHOR AMOK

To enjoy the full ensemble – to date – of Laura Shovan’s signature month-long outfit of poetry, please poke into these pockets –

Introductory Post/Laura Shovan

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/03/what-are-you-wearing-for-national.html

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/03/what-are-you-wearing-for-national.html

Jane Elkin looks in her childhood closet. Poems by Mark Irwin and Ron Koertge.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-jane-elkin.html

Tabatha Yeatts shares an ensemble of clothing poems by Greg Pincus.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-tabatha.html

Margaret Gibson Simon tries on orange high heels. Poem by Ellen Bass.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-margaret.html

Robyn Hood Black borrows Alice Schertle’s “Hand-me-down Sweatshirt.”

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-robyn.html

Jone MacCulloch wears her Grandma Mac’s aprons.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-jone.html

Heidi Mordhorst pulls on some big, black boots.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-heidi.html

Linda Baie’s outfit would not be complete without a poem in her pocket.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-linda-baie.html

Catherine Johnson getting dressed with Alexander Resnikoff.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-catherine.html

Robyn Campbell is showing off her favorite vintage clothes with a poetic picture book from Mary Ann Hoberman.

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-robyn_20.html

Donna JT Smith savors skirts

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing- donna.html

Bookseedstudio/Jan Annino shares about a skirt-maker

http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2015/04/npm-2015-what-are-you-wearing-jan.html

As the layers continue, return for more What Are You Wearing? National Poetry Month links through April.

 

PROGRESSIVE POEM 2015 in National Poetry Month

poetryfriday

 

Since April 1, new lines of a progressively arriving poem surface at various

Poetry Friday contributor sites/blogs. Each person in communion by keyboard one

following another, adds after pondering the newest words. So far & likely to the end, there is one perfect exclamation point –  it is a splash tale.

I’m progressively scared & then giddy that a line is soon to be mine. I haven’t written it and won’t until just before my deadline to post it here – Monday, April 27, 2015. I can’t write until I read the day’s previous line – popping up this very Sunday. Dactyl danger? Couplet craziness? I calm myself by saying stanza symphony.

The charmed 2015 NPM Progressive Poem is a seaworthy meander awash with mica, pearls, turquoise and a fisherman & a mermaid. You don’t have to wait for my line to read this creation that has me in awe of the previous line leaders. There is a depth to it that I hope I don’t take into the shallows.

Here it is, to date.

(Arrayed artistically & looking to credit the arrangement, which varies from how I first saw it…)

 

TO BE TITLED, 2015 Poetry Friday Progressive Poem by an assembly collected by Irene Latham

Now titled & completed!

………………………..

“Ocean Dreams”
(The 2015 Poetry Friday Progressive Poem)

She lives without a net,

walking along the alluvium of the delta.

Shoes swing over her shoulder,

on her bare feet stick

jeweled flecks of dark mica.

Hands faster than fish swing

at the ends of bare brown arms.

Her hair flows,

snows

in wild wind

as she digs

in the indigo varnished handbag,

pulls out her grandmother’s oval

cuffed bracelet,
 strokes the turquoise stones, and steps

through the curved doorway.

Tripping

on

her

tail

she

slips

hair first

down

the

slide…

splash!

She                  glides               past                 glossy              water

hyacinth to shimmer with a school of shad,

listens to the ibises

roosting in the trees

of the cypress swamp

an echo

of Grandmother’s words, still fresh

in her windswept memory;

“Born from the oyster,

expect the pearl.

Reach for the rainbow

reflection on the smallest dewdrop.”

 

The surface glistens, a shadow

slips

above her head, a paddle

dips

she reaches, seizes. She’s electric energy

and turquoise eyes.

Lifted high, she gulps strange air – stares

clearly into
 Green pirogue, crawfish trap, startled

fisherman with turquoise eyes, twins

of her own, riveted on her wrist–

She’s swifter than a dolphin,

slipping away,

leaving him only

a handful

of memories

of his own

grandmother’s counsel:

“Watch for her.

You’ll have but one chance

to 
determine—

to decide. Garner wisdom from the water

and from the pearl

of the past.”

 

In a quicksilver flash,

an arc of resolution, he

leaps

into the shimmering water

where hidden sentries restrain

any pursuit and the bitter taste

of impulse rushes

into his lungs.

Her flipper flutters his weathered toes

–      Pearl’s signal –

Stop struggling.

The Sentinels will escort you

He stills, closes his eyes,
takes an uncharacteristic breath of …
water!
Released, he swims

chasing the

glimmer

of the bracelet

Gran gave the daughter

who reveled in waves,

Straining for fading incandescence, flecks of silver, his eyes and hands clasp cold silt,
flakes of sharp shale seething through fingers – crimson palms stinging.

A sea change ripples his shuddering back.
With a force summoned from the depths, her charged turquoise eyes unsuffer his heart

And holding out her hand to him, she knows. He knows. She speaks,
as his hand curls ’round her bracelet-clad wrist,

“Papa, just a little longer in the pool! One more time down the slide! Please!”

He nods; she won’t be his little mermaid much longer.

…………………………………………………..
I expect to add the daily lines above as they emerge from the water… And I must not forget to weigh in on Monday. (As if!)

C. Jan Godown Annino, all rights reserved

C. Jan Godown Annino, all rights reserved

PROGRESSIVE POEM ORIGINS

Please visit the creative site conducted by talented poet & novelist, Irene Lantham,

LIVE YOUR POEM to learn more about the Progressive Poem origins.

To see the flow tide by tide, follow each days links/site I’ve tucked, here.

 

2015 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem

1 Jone at Check it Out

https://maclibrary.wordpress.com/2015/04/01/national-poetry-month-2015-kidlitosphere-progressive-poem/

 

2

Joy at Poetry for Kids Joy

http://poetryforkidsjoy.blogspot.com/search?q=progressive+poem+2015

3

Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe

http://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/2015/04/progressive-poem-2015-line-3.html

 

4

Laura at Writing the World for Kids

http://www.laurasalas.com/blog/for-teachers/2015-prog-poem/

5 Charles at Poetry Time Blog

http://www.charleswaterspoetry.com/#!POETRY-TIME-BLOG-24/c23vc/5519ad2d0cf21933cd241eb1

6 Ramona at Pleasures from the Page

http://pleasuresfromthepage.blogspot.com/2015/04/2015-kidlitosphere-progressive-poem.html

7 Catherine at Catherine Johnson

http://www.catherinemjohnson.com/?p=8875

8 Irene at Live Your Poem

http://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2015/04/artspeak-poem-8-our-progressive-poem.html

9 Mary Lee at Poetrepository

http://www.maryleehahn.com/2015/04/2015-progressive-poem-my-line.html

10 Michelle at Today’s Little Ditty

http://michellehbarnes.blogspot.com/2015/04/day-10-of-progressive-poem-plus.html

11 Kim at Flukeprints

https://flukeprints.wordpress.com/

12 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche

https://reflectionsontheteche.wordpress.com/2015/04/12/2015-progressive-poem/

13 Doraine at DoriReads

http://dorireads.blogspot.com/2015/04/2015-progressive-poem.html

14 Renee at No Water River

http://www.nowaterriver.com/the-progressive-poem-2015-is-here/

15 Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge

http://www.robynhoodblack.com/blog.htm?post=992838

16 Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town

http://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.co.uk/

17 Buffy at Buffy’s Blog

http://buffysilverman.com/blog/?p=725

18 Sheila at Sheila Renfro

http://www.sheilarenfro.blogspot.com/2015/04/progressive-poem-2015-and-poetry-book.html

19 Linda at Teacher Dance

http://www.sheilarenfro.blogspot.com/2015/04/progressive-poem-2015-and-poetry-book.html

20 Penny at A Penny and her Jots

http://pennyklostermann.com/blog-a-penny-and-her-jots/

21 Tara at A Teaching life

https://ateachinglifedotcom.wordpress.com/ara at A Teaching Life

22 Pat at Writer on a Horse

http://writeronahorse.blogspot.com/

23 Tamera at The Writer’s Whimsy

http://www.tamerawillwissinger.com/the-writers-whimsy/2015/4/23/2015-progressive-poem-day-23-is-here.html

24 Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect

http://missrumphiuseffect.blogspot.com/2015/04/poetry-friday-2015-progressive-poem.html

25 Tabatha at The Opposite of indifference

http://www.tabathayeatts.blogspot.com/

26 Brian at Walk the Walk

27 Jan at Bookseedstudio

28 Amy at The Poem Farm

29 Donna at Mainely Write

30 Matt at Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme

If those are your eyes I see here, you have reached the part of this post with the couplet iteration –

TO BE TITLED, 2015 Poetry Friday Progressive Poem by an assembly collected by Irene Latham

Now titled & completed!

……………………………….

“Ocean Dreams”
(The 2015 Poetry Friday Progressive Poem)

She lives without a net, walking along the alluvium of the delta.
Shoes swing over her shoulder, on her bare feet stick jeweled flecks of dark mica.

Hands faster than fish swing at the ends of bare brown arms. Her hair flows,
snows in wild wind as she digs in the indigo varnished handbag,

pulls out her grandmother’s oval cuffed bracelet,
strokes the turquoise stones, and steps through the curved doorway.

Tripping on her tail she slips hair first down the slide… splash!
She glides past glossy water hyacinth to shimmer with a school of shad,

listens to the ibises roosting in the trees of the cypress swamp
an echo of Grandmother’s words, still fresh in her windswept memory.

Born from the oyster, expect the pearl.
Reach for the rainbow reflection on the smallest dewdrop.

The surface glistens, a shadow slips above her head, a paddle dips
she reaches, seizes. She’s electric energy and turquoise eyes.

Lifted high, she gulps strange air – stares clearly into
Green pirogue, crawfish trap, startled fisherman

with turquoise eyes, twins of her own, riveted on her wrist–
She’s swifter than a dolphin, slipping away, leaving him only a handful of

memories of his own grandmother’s counsel: Watch for her. You’ll have but one chance to
determine—to decide. Garner wisdom from the water and from the pearl of the past.

In a quicksilver flash, an arc of resolution, he leaps into the shimmering water
Where hidden sentries restrain any pursuit and the bitter taste of impulse rushes into his lungs

Her flipper flutters his weathered toes –Pearl’s signal–Stop struggling. The Sentinels will escort you
He stills, closes his eyes, takes an uncharacteristic breath of … water! Released, he swims

Chasing the glimmer of the bracelet Gran gave the daughter who reveled in waves,

Straining for fading incandescence, flecks of silver, his eyes and hands clasp cold silt,
flakes of sharp shale seething through fingers – crimson palms stinging.

A sea change ripples his shuddering back.
With a force summoned from the depths, her charged turquoise eyes unsuffer his heart

And holding out her hand to him, she knows. He knows. She speaks,
as his hand curls ’round her bracelet-clad wrist,

“Papa, just a little longer in the pool! One more time down the slide! Please!”

He nods; she won’t be his little mermaid much longer.

…..
To be continued here Monday, April 27, 2015