Our Wonderful World: The Porcelain Tower of Nanjing

Details of my Poetry Month Project can be found here.

6. Porcelain Tower of Nanjing

Unmuseum.org

The Eight Gratitudes

I hope you won't think I'm wasting

one of my eight

by choosing daffodils.

They hold hope

in their cup-and-saucer blooms.

If I choose

books -- 

the ones I bought yesterday,

plus the ones that line nearly every wall of every room --

can they also stand 

for the authors,

and my fellow readers,

and a quiet afternoon 

spent curled up on the couch reading?

Is that cheating?

How could I not

include chocolate?

Or my mug of hot tea 

first thing

in the morning?

When I close my eyes

and think of home,

I picture my mother, 

looking out the window above the kitchen sink,

calling me 

to come and see

the sunset.

Yes, that's worth three:

home, mom, sunsets.

Number eight is silence,

which was broken just now

by the train's whistle,

and earlier

by the robins and wrens 

singing in the dark.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

As I read about The Porcelain Tower of Nanjing, trying to find a starting point for a poem, I came across these names for the pagoda: "Bao'ensi, or "Temple of Gratitude," and I learned that the base of the tower is octagonal. That's all I needed. My poem would be, "The Eight Gratitudes," which is a poem I could probably (should probably) write every day of my life with eight different gratitudes per day. After all, there's a growing body of research that shows an "Attitude of Gratitude" is actually good for your health.

The original tower, built to honor either the Emperor's parents or just his mother, was destroyed in the 19th Century, but was rebuilt in 2010.

Amy has been writing about her mentor poems in her process notes for her daily poems at The Poem Farm. I didn't have a particular poem in mind as I wrote, but I tried to imitate the conversational tone of Billy Collins' or George Bilgere's poetry.

Kevin's Notegraphy is here.

Be sure to visit Carol's Corner to read the fabulous abecedarian Carol wrote about The Great Wall of China yesterday.

Our Wonderful World: The Great Wall of China

Details of my Poetry Month Project can be found here.

5. Great Wall of China

Wikipedia

My Uncle's Getting Married

My uncle's getting married

in the church at Broad and High.

He's wearing a tuxedo,

cummerbund and bolo tie.

After all the boring stuff,

it's off to the party house.

We'll eat a fancy dinner

and we'll toast his brand new spouse.

The fun will really start then,

the groom will dance his bride,

we'll do the Macarena,

chicken dance, electric slide.

We'll boogie woogie, bump and grind,

we'll limbo way down low.

We'll shimmy, shake, we'll shuffle, swing

we'll do our best disco.

And when the bride says, "One more dance!"

the conga line she leads.

We ribbon all around the room,

we curve, we swerve, we weave.

A snake of happy revelers,

the young and old alike,

connected hand to waist to back,

we dance away the night.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

I'm giving myself permission to have more fun with this project. I don't think I can write 25 more poems that are exactly about the wonders. So anything at all about the wonder that inspires me is fair game. 

Can you tell how I got today's poem from the image of the Great Wall? I hope you can see the conga line in the photo!

Here's Kevin's beautiful poem, Walls Won't Hold Us.

Here's Carol's poem about the Catacombs from yesterday, at Carol's Corner.

Our Wonderful World: The Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa

The details of my Poetry Month project can be found here.

4. Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa

Tripadvisor.com

We All Wait

What's a forgotten catacomb to do?

My tunnels sprawled,

my columns endured,

my stairways persevered.

What's a forgotten catacomb to do?

I cradled the bones of the dead

in silence.

My statues stood guard

in secrecy.

And I waited.

We all wait.

Sometimes

we even know why,

or what for.

Never

in all my centuries

would I have imagined

what would break the monotony 

and end my waiting.

What's a forgotten catacomb to do?

A thousand years I waited.

Then a donkey fell through my roof

and the silence, the secrecy, and the waiting were over.

Who would have guessed?

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014


This is the first wonder I knew absolutely nothing about. Based on my experience yesterday, I knew we would need to do a bit of research before we started writing. I showed my students the image above and we brainstormed the questions we hoped to have answered by our research:

What are catacombs?
Are there traps?
Can tourists go there?
Are there kings, or treasure?
Where are they?
How old are they?
How big are they?
What are they used for?

My reading minilesson plans called for us to think about how we can determine the speaker in a poem (or a text), and in writing, we would try to write from an interesting point of view.

Turns out this was the perfect wonder for personification. You could write from the point of view of the catacombs themselves (as I did) or from the point of view of the donkey that fell through the roof in 1900, leading to the rediscovery of the catacombs. You could be a serpent guarding the doorway, a statue, a dead person buried there, or one of the shards for which the catacombs are named: "Mound of Shards." You could be the desert around it, the sky above it, or the water that's flooded the lowest level.


Carol has a Colosseum poem from yesterday at her blog, Carol's Corner.

Kevin's poem today is multimedia.

Our Wonderful World: The Colosseum

Details of my Poetry Month Project can be found here.

3. Colosseum

Wikipedia

COLOSSEUM

Broken soup bowl,
tarnished crown,
gaping eyeholes,
center of town.

Shaken, crumbled,
still you stand.
By history humbled,
yet you're grand.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014



Carol Varsalona has a Colosseum poem for today on Notegraphy. Kevin's Colosseum Fibonacci poem showcases HaikuDeck.

Carol's poem from yesterday about Stonehenge is at Carol's Corner.

Kevin wrote a Stonehenge poem in Notegraphy yesterday. (I can't wait to give this app/website a try!)



It was in my plans for us to write similes and metaphors about the Colosseum as a possible way into our poems. Good thing I tried that before I had my students do it -- I learned that you can't write much when you know next to nothing about your topic. (DUH.) So we started with some quick research.

Bless you, KR. I knew I was ready to pull them all back together for some brainstorming when K said aloud, "I wonder how much cereal it would hold? It looks like a bowl!" We had our first simile.

Then, as they fed me facts they had learned, we worked together to bend them into similes or metaphors. Here's we came up with:

•The colosseum is a bowl. How much cereal would it hold?

FACT: It is big.

•It is as big as the moon. (Nice example of hyperbole!)

FACT: It is old, made in 70 AD.
•The Colosseum is nearly as old as the Pyramid of Giza. (We had a good conversation about why this isn't a simile. It is simply stating how old the Colosseum is. And it's not even true. The pyramid is WAY older.)

•My teacher is nearly as old as the colosseum. (Now that we're comparing two unlike things, we have a simile. And hyperbole, please!!)

•The colosseum is like a crown on a princess’ head. (Simile)

•The colosseum is a crown. (Simile transformed into a metaphor)

FACT: It's made of concrete and stone.
•The Colosseum is as sturdy as the tree branch Ry climbed on. (We wanted a simile that compared the Colosseum to something that really wasn't so sturdy, since it is falling apart. Our read aloud is AS EASY AS FALLING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH, and Ry is the main character. You can probably guess what happened to the tree branch he climbed on!)

FACT: 500,000 people were killed and over a million animals were killed there.
•The colosseum is a graveyard.

Our Wonderful World: Stonehenge

Details of my Poetry Month Project can be found here.

2. Stonehenge

Wikipedia

We stand.

Sun warms us,

wind pushes us,

people stare at us.

We wait.

Moon comforts us,

rain gouges us,

people stare at us.

We know.

Tools made us,

ancients moved us,

people stare at us.

We endure.

History created us,

future sustains us,

people admire us.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

S t o n e h e n g e

feels              hard,

can                lift,

sounds          silent

very              strong

reaches         high

to the            sky

feels             rough.

©JB, 2014

We did another two-column brainstorm for today's poems. This time we thought about what moods the picture evoked, and what sensory images we might include in our poem.

There's so much we don't know about Stonehenge. I tried to capture the solid silence of the stones, and the wonder and amazement that we continue to feel in the presence of this mighty ring of standing stones.

EDITED AFTER SHARING WITH MY CLASS: The last line of my poem used to read "people stare at us." AH suggested that perhaps since the poem shifts in that stanza to bigger themes, the last line could be "people admire us." I totally agreed and have made that change! Thanks, AH! (This is what I love about being a part of a community of writers...in my classroom!)

Carol and Kevin both wrote poems yesterday for The Great Pyramid of Giza. Check them out at Carol's Corner and Kevin's Meandering Mind.

Our Wonderful World: The Great Pyramid of Giza

Details of my Poetry Month Project can be found here.

1. The Great Pyramid of Giza

Wikipedia

TIME

Time

in the desert

is as vast as the sky

expanding across blue distance.

Ancient as sand, changeless and thirsty,

time waits, encased in a monumental tomb of stone.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Stacking stones

all day and all night.

Just to make a pyramid

to store dead people.

This is all for naught.

But the Pharaoh wants it,

so he gets it.

©VS, 2014

This year, because April 1 is on a Tuesday, I am including my students in my writing process for this first week. Yesterday we looked at this picture of The Great Pyramid of Giza and did a two-column brainstorming activity with DENOTATION on the left and CONNOTATION on the right. Denotation is where we listed the exactly what we could see in the picture, or facts we gathered from further research. Connotation is where we listed what those facts made us think about, or feel. My denotations were big, old, triangle, sand, desert, brown. My connotations were important, valuable, knowledgeable, solid, balanced, sturdy, strong, classic, time, change, changelessness, vast, empty, silent, dry, hot, thirsty. You can see which ones made it into my poem!

It was fascinating to watch the students' writing move immediately in unique directions based on their own connotations. After 5 minutes of my own writing, I circled the room and found another pyramid-shaped poem, two acrostics (mummy and pyramid), three different voices (a slave, the pyramid, and a conversation between the pyramid and a visitor), and poems about the sand, grave robbers, and oldness. I hope a couple of them will allow me to post their poems here later today!

Carol's pyramid poem is at Carol's Corner; Kevin's is at Kevin's Meandering Mind.

Pancakes

Flickr Creative Commons Photo by TIm Hamilton

PANCAKES
(Heaven must be a place where there are pancakes.)


Pancakes, pancakes, I love you.
Batter, butter, syrup, too.

Mix them up and pour them out,
use a ladle or a spout.

Pour them in a pan that’s hot,
cook them well, but not a lot.

Get them brown, don’t let them burn
Use a spatula to turn

them over when one side is brown.
Be careful and flip UP not down.

Stack them on a plate real high.
Look at them, let out a sigh.

Melt the butter, pour the maple
(don’t get any on the table!).

Get your napkin, tuck it in
(don’t get maple on your chin!)

Now your fork…get ready…GO!
Eat your pancakes, 10 in a row.

Oh my goodness, this won’t do –
I am full down to my shoes!

Let me rest for just a bit…
Okay, now 10 more will fit!

The bacon’s ready now, you say?
Life is good! I say, “HOORAY!”


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Hope is the Color Green

Hope is the Color Green
Hope is the color green.
It comes to us washed by wet weather, or by tears.
It comforts the valley first,
then climbs the mountain with steady assurance,
accompanied by bursts
of wildflower happiness in its midst,
while above the haze and mist
a benevolent aqua sky persists.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Pantone® colors: wet weather, aqua haze

Love in a Glove

Flickr Creative Commons Photo by Lars Kristian Flem

LOVE IN A GLOVE

It's frigid.
Each hand's fingers huddle
in the main house of the mitten,
fraternal quadruplets, each smitten
with the opposable digit.

It's touching
the way the four welcome thumb
in from his cold outpost,
fold over him,
hold him close.

Then later,
when the backs of the fingers succumb,
begin to numb,
thumb becomes reciprocator,
gathers the four beneath his meager reach.

For once,
thumb is unconcerned
about any job to be done.
Fingers appreciate thumb's cuddle,
though he covers only two knuckles.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Ode to a Classroom Goldfish

Flickr Creative Commons photo by James Demetrie

Ode to a Classroom Goldfish
The smaller of the two
in the bowl by the sink,
white and thin, you
made the marbles clink

when you nosed for food.
It's not likely,
but I wonder if it was music
for you and your lively,

larger, solid orange friend.
I think he misses you.
What would it be like to spend
your life swimming to

and fro, alone, in a small
glass prison? Perhaps it's
a home, not a prison at all.
Whatever the case, you'll be missed.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Sweet Little Kitty

Photo by Mary Lee Hahn

Sweet Little Kitty

Cat curls up tight,

closes eyes, purrs.

Disguised by sleep,

sinks down deep where

cat dreams are found

and stalks, soundless,

huge now, lethal.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

This is the poem I wrote for this week's Poetry Stretch at The Miss Rumphius Effect. The form is called "Climbing Rhyme." Each line can either have four words or four syllables. I went for syllables. The rhyme is internal. For more details, read this post. Here's a nice visual Tricia gave us to track the rhymes:

xxxa

xxax

xaxb

xxbx

xbxc

xxcx

xcxx

Indoor Recess

Indoor Recess

Too cold again.
Too snowy for outdoor recess.
Too many days spent with the same twenty classmates.
Too limited without electronics.

We already built with blocks.
We already played board games.
We already made up a storytelling game.
We already finished four jigsaw puzzles.

Let's play all together!
Let's play a whole class game!
Let's play Heads Up Seven Up!
Let's play!

***

It's amazing to see them ALL play together.
It's amazing -- first time in my career it's happened.
It's amazing to know that collaboration can emerge so naturally.
It's amazing to have faith and hope reaffirmed during indoor recess.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

The Poetry Stretch at Tricia's blog was a new form to me -- anaphora, "the repetition of the same word or phrase in several successive clauses." There are some spectacular examples in the comments. Mine describes what happened at recess this week.

Yin and Yang

YIN AND YANG

I crave both
the comfort of routine
and the thrill
of unknowns.

The comfort of routine:
the well-worn path through a day full
of unknowns,
surprises at every turn.

The well-worn path through a day, full.
And the thrill --
surprises at every turn.
I crave both.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Recipe

Recipe
The yellowed newspaper clipping
is attached to an index card
with brittle cellophane tape.
"Nov. 1949
Women's Day Kitchen"
is written in faded ink
at the top of the card.

Her canned tomatoes
were from the garden,
mine are from the store.
Her biscuits were made from scratch,
mine are a boxed mix.

She washed up the prep bowls
by hand,
tired after a long day's work.

Some things don't change.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Plowing

Flickr Creative Commons Photo by richardghawley

Another row plowed.
Seeds are planted behind me.
So much work ahead.

One more row, then rest.
Free the horse from the harness;
leave the plow ready.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Ode to My Big Toe

Dear Big Toe,

We've been together since before I was born.
You've helped me balance;
I've taken you for granted.

Now I'll give you the pampering you deserve...
at least until the bandages come off
and we get back to normal.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Pomegranate

Flickr Creative Commons Photo by Minneapolis Moose

POMEGRANATE

I was so very ready 

to leave it all behind.

A red-rinded pomegranate waits 

on the kitchen counter:

insurance that I will

return.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Autumn

Try to

capture Autumn's

color with paint, collage.

Today's art will be forgotten,

not lost.

Dark sky

Children's laughter

Brilliant colors of fall

Collect beauty strewn by the trees

New art

Brilliant

color against

heavy dark purple skies:

red, gold, green, orange, yellow, brown.

Rain begins.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Leaf Hurricane

Flickr Creative Commons photo by Paul Stevenson

LEAF HURRICANE

Clouds darken
Wind gusts
leaves swirl
I twirl

          My wild spinning dance
          Is magic to me
          I dance with the wind
          I dance with the leaves

Rain spits
wind gusts
leaves swirl
I twirl
   
          I dance with the wind
          I dance with the leaves
          With every spin
          My spirit flies free

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Best

BEST

What does that mean,
"Do your best?"
Push myself
without any rest?

No time for play?
Never have fun?
Don't take a break
'til it's done, done, DONE?

Here's what I've learned
(disagree if you will)
sometimes...
occasionally...
it's best
just to
chill.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Seeds

The tomato squirts in my mouth.

"You can't have seeds 

without a flower."

The clock ticks incessantly.

Time happens 

because the earth spins.

The students arrive in a burst of chatter.

I feel the earth move

as I watch them bloom.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Thug

As seen/passed around on FaceBook

THUG

All summer it's been cool
but just in time for school
the heat comes back,
like a big muggy bully.

One afternoon, regardless of the math lesson,
the air conditioning goes out.
Just up and leaves.
Walks out of the room without permission,

leaving the door open
for the bully to swagger in,
disrupt the lesson,
and make us sweat ourselves.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Fly Fishing

Sun on the Mad River, by Mary Lee Hahn

Fly Fishing

The small stream
and its bank-side buffer of trees
winds through corn fields.

Do not be tricked --
the current's pull is swift.
Step slow and steady. Don't trip.

Cast with patience.
Relax and find a kind of grace
in the rhythm, in the day.

Driving home, watch --
today you might catch
not a fish, but a glimpse of a fox.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

The Space Between Breaths

by Hugh MacLeod at GapingVoid

The Space Between the Breaths We Take

Movie ticket, untorn;

popcorn box full.

Swimmers crouched;

pool still smooth blue glass.

Clean sheet of paper;

pencil, freshly sharpened, hovering.

Bus brakes hiss;

driver grasps the door handle.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Like a Bad Habit

by Hugh MacLeod at Gaping Void

Like a Bad Habit

The ivy is overtaking the front bed.
It approaches the lamb’s ear insidiously.
It has overwhelmed a pair of stepping-stones.
Clearly, the whole driveway is within the scope of its ambition.

I admire its tenacity.

But my will
will dominate.
My pruner and I
will reestablish
boundaries.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

A Teacher Turns the Calendar Page From July to August

Photo by Mary Lee Hahn

A Teacher Turns the Calendar Page From July to August

It's the same feeling you get

just after you've nudged the sled 

over the shoulder 

of the hill.

Movement becomes momentum

and quickly shifts 

to catapulting and careening.

You relinquish control

and hold on 

for the ride.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

Reclamation and Exaltation

Creative Commons Photo by Mary Lee Hahn

RECLAMATION AND EXALTATION

The air is cool;
sun sits low behind the trees.

My tea is hot;
one last sip before I start.

The garden is large;
weeds are plentiful and vigorous.

* * *

I turn my head slowly;
two hummingbirds argue over coneflowers.

I sit back on my heels;
chickadees and bees ignore me.

I stand and stretch;
the air is hot, the tea is cold, the garden is weeded.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013