Poetry Friday -- Don't Go Into the Library

Yippee! It's our Friday poetry celebration.

This has been a full and busy week back to school for my three high-schoolers, my school librarian self, my college junior and my graduate student husband. We are all about learning in this family!

My middle school library has a new theme, PLANET LIBRARY, which comes from student created graphic novel art. It's all kinds of fun comparing our library to outer space. I love it!

By Joshua and Damian

I don't have a perfect PLANET LIBRARY poem.....YET. I may have to write one. If I do, I will use Don't Go Into the Library as my mentor text. Isn't it wonderful?

Hop on over to brilliant and creative Robin Hood Black for Poetry Friday goodness. She's hosting our round-up this week at Life on the Deckle Edge.

Don’t Go Into the Library

By Alberto Ríos

The library is dangerous—
Don’t go in. If you do
 
You know what will happen.
It’s like a pet store or a bakery—
 
Every single time you’ll come out of there
Holding something in your arms.
 
Those novels with their big eyes.
And those no-nonsense, all muscle
 
Greyhounds and Dobermans,
All non-fiction and business,
 
Cuddly when they’re young,
But then the first page is turned.
 
The doughnut scent of it all, knowledge,
The aroma of coffee being made
 
In all those books, something for everyone,
The deli offerings of civilization itself.
 
The library is the book of books,
Its concrete and wood and glass covers
 
Keeping within them the very big,
Very long story of everything.
 
The library is dangerous, full
Of answers. If you go inside,
 
You may not come out
The same person who went in.

Copyright © 2017 by Alberto Ríos

Summer Swap Finale

Happy Poetry Friday,

I think I might have mentioned how much I have enjoyed this summer's poem swap. It's really nice to get to know poetry people through their writing.

I have two beautiful swaps share.

First, Karen Edminsten sent this, sunny, sandy poem. I received it on a day my children had gone off to visit their grandparents for a week and I was just a touch blue in my quiet house. But,  this gem was in my mailbox and I smiled. Thank you, Karen.

Later in the week, I opened a package from Tara Smith that contained a delightful little book titled Chrysanthemums.  Even better? it was published in 1903. Oh, do I love an antique book...and this one is stunning. The paper, the pages, the photographs from a bygone era. I have so enjoyed paging through this little beauty.

Moore, N. Hudson. Chrysanthemums, Frederick A. Stokes Co. New York. 1903. print.

Have fun making Poetry Rounds today. Margaret Simon is hosting our round-up at Reflections on the Teche. Thank you, Margaret.

Bird Poem Challenge for Wondering and Wandering

Hello Poetry Friday Friend,

This week seemed to fly!  Thanks to our host for Poetry Friday's round-up,  creative and connected, Wondering and Wandering, Christie Wyman.

Christie challenged us to present a bird themed post today. Last week, Diane Mayer had a great post on using photographs from the Library of Congress as writing prompts. LOC has become one of my best friends. There is no end to what to discover from their online collection or at the physical library itself.

These two ideas seemed destined to meet on my laptop.

When I searched LOC for "bird" I found a cache of travel posters featured as a digital resource. I found an old poem. I found a prompt for each season....how could I stop at just one?

Spring

Indigo Bird. [No Date Recorded on Caption Card] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/2002718964/>.

Summer

Rio - Braniff International Airways. [195] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/2009632101/>.

Autumn

Chubb, Thomas Caldecot. Turkey gobbler land. Thomas Caldecott Chubb. Decorations by Wharton Esherick. This poem first appeared in Poetry: a magazine of verse, August, . It is now published by the Centaur Press, Philadelphia, in an edition of 800 copies. Copyright 1. Philadelphia, 1934. Pdf. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/rbpe.16202900/>.

Turkey Gobbler Land
By Thomas Caldecott Chubb

Down in the south, where cornfields stand in rows
Of blond, stiff spears against a parched, brown earth;
Where the tall pine trees smell of turpentine,
And iridescent doves flash back and forth (read the rest)

Winter

Bessho, Eigon, Artist. Secchū Ashi NiKarasu.[Between 1890 and 1920] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress,.

Review of Jazz Owls

Happy Poetry Friday Friends,

Thanks to our poet photographer friend for hosting this week's round-up at Nix the Comfort Zone.  Be sure to stop by for lots and lots of wonderful poetry offerings.

Come Monday, I will be back in middle school as a teacher-librarian. I enjoy work...and, I have LOVED summer. It's always an adjustment going back because this last week is the week to  read all those books I was going to read over the summer. Ack!

I read Jazz Owls: A Novel of the Zoot Suit Riots (Simon & Schuster 2018) by Young People's Poet Laureate, Margarita Engle.

Jazz Owls is a novel in verse and I love it!

http://www.margaritaengle.com/latambooks.html#jazz

As an educator and librarian for young people, I'm always looking for text that describes how situations other than those familiar feel. Jazz Owls does this wonderfully--and in exquisite verse.

First, there is a realistic cast of characters caught up in the Los Angeles riots (known as the Zoot Suit riots. But, I may never call them by that name again), the summer of 1943. As in other novels by Ms. Engle, each character holds an important piece of the whole story.

It's no surprise to today's readers that some voices in 1943 were listened to before others. First heard and protected were navy sailors training at the nearby base and about to be shipped off to the Pacific -- scared, nervous and looking for ways to vent it all. Also, police and newspaper writers looking for an angle to sell papers were important in the framing of this story.

Other voices were young Mexican-American women working in canning factories for little pay for long hours while being encouraged to also dance at USO Clubs in the evenings. After all, the troops should be kept happy, right? All of these people had families and neighbors that were a part of the fabric of their lives.

Meet Marisela, Lorena and their younger brother-chaperone Ray who work for the war effort by day and dance swing and jitterbug by night. Their older brother, Nico and their father are fighting World War II. Mama, Abuelita are with them on the Homefront.

Marisela

I love feeling jazz-winged,
so this owl life is easy for me.
until early morning when my shift
at the cannery begins, right after a LONG journey
of clanging streetcar bells and SLEEPY smiles, all
those memories of dancing the jitterbug, Lindy Hop,
and jump blues, while adding my own swaying bit
of Latin-style swing rhythm!

Lorena

DARK SIDE OF TOWN was the worst headline,
with words that made the rest of this city feel
like white people had received official
permission
to fear
and hate
all of us

Ray

If you can't dance
with your neighbors,
you live in the wrong
place.

Dance halls need musicians like  Manolito, a drummer, who hails from Cuba. These guys are being kept busy by the high demand for big band and swing. Everyone wants to feel alive so close to the thought of war and death.

Manolito

I'm just one of hundreds of musicians
who arrive from New York, Memphis, Chicago,
Kansas City, Saint Louis, and from the steamy islands
of musica too, Cuba and Puerto Rico, drummers,
wearing our loose suits, the zoot shape
that drapes us to keep dance leaps smooth
and COOL in this HOT summer river
of JAZZ!


These beautiful young people get caught up in hysteria, violence and racism when navy recruits, fueled by newspaper angling, rushed streets looking for zoot-suiters to beat up. Chaos, injury, arrests and division ensue. 

Engle gets right to the truth of history with poetic images quickly and without mincing words.  Our young people can grasp this. After all, they are witnessing life now.

There is no happy ending, however, life does go on. There is an admirable reference list and  illustrations by Rudy Gutierrez who's work give layers of authenticity to the text. Artistic readers will be inspired immediately.

A few years ago, some seventh graders were looking for book information on Zoot Suits and the Zoot Suit (which should be more apply named Sailor) Riots. I wish I could have put this book in their hands. Now, I can. And, we can talk and the conversation about who we have been as Americans and who we need to be can continue. This book pairs perfectly with the movie (or snippets of the movie for classroom viewing), Swing Kids .

Thank you, Margarita Engle. You remain one of my writing and reading heroes. 

Summer Poetry Sharing

Hello Friend and Happy Poetry Friday,

I do not know if there is anything quite as wonderful as the Summer Poetry Swap organized by Tabatha, host of The Opposite of Indifference.

When I arrived home from the beach I had two treasures waiting for me. I adore each and am grateful to have been in on this year's swap. If you think you might want to give it a try...definitely join the next one.

From Jone Rush Macculloch, a poem embedded in one of her stunning bird photos.

morning walk
red winged blackbird sings
conk-la-ree
conk-la-ree
signals his place in the world
bringing unity

         (c) jone rush macculloch



From Iphigene....all the way from the Philippines.

Gotcha

Asked: "why are my eyes
not like yours~round
and blue?" I tell her, "you got my
nose though."

She'd measure our noses
with her thumb, press
Hers to mine
laughing.

When the laugh dies down
I think of wombs--
the shape of it,
elongated spheres
holding life.

I think of hearts
the shape of it,
elongated spheres
holding life in it.

And maybe,
wombs and hearts
are interchangeable
where umbilical cords
become invisible.

Threads that bind--minding
not skin, not genes
only that beneath her
tiny ribs and my own
is a music that tells us
we are each other's own.

She pokes my arm
out of my thoughts 
looks at me with
black, questioning 
eyes

"But our noses can't be
alike," I trace her
nose and smile, "ah!
but our hearts will,
always."

(c) Iphigene Daradar 2018


I am blessed beyond measure don't you agree?

Please visit Mary Lee Hahn who is hosting this week's Poetry Round-up at A Year of Reading and a pretty impressive blitz poem there. Thank you, Mary Lee!