2 THINGS I LEARNED & CANT WAIT TO SHARE!

Howdy Campers, and Happy Poetry Friday! (The link to PF is below)

I'm starting off our final topic of the year: 

Something New I Learned and Can't Wait to Share 

Sadie learns something new: TV!

There are soooo many things I'd love to share!
But lucky, lucky you, 

I can't remember all of them,
so I'll just offer two.

#1: This Splendid Blog Came Knocking at my Door...

Many of you probably already know this one...it's a blog! it's a newsletter! it's a splendid picture book/poetry/gift resource and more!)

I'm talking about Orange Marmalade Books ~ with the tagline: spreading the word on delightful children's literature  

And who's the wonderful writer behind the curtain?  Her name is Jill Swanson (though I think of her as Ms Marmalade.)

Jill's October 14th post, "Five for Autumn's Splendor" introduces us to the beauty of picture books that celebrate fall, including Buffy Silverman's On a Gold-Blooming Day: Finding Fall Treasures  

I love that her posts are never too long to read on a busy day, and I love that they're always full of the illustrations of the picture books she's introducing us to...such as this illustration from Buffy's book:

If this photo is cut-off on your device,
the words on each picture are: 
Clouds rumble. Mushrooms Pop.
Raindrops Tumble. Acorns drop.

I also love that this blog shines its light on books that are hot off the press and those that have been around for a while. Good books shouldn't be lost in the shuffle, and Ms Marmalade sees that they aren't.

I like getting her blog as a newsletter, which comes every two weeks. If you haven't already, check it out!

#2: A Poet I've Just Discovered: Arthur Guiterman

This past weekend, our pup Sadie was overjoyed to be in the center of a circle of my folk music friends in our living room. Janet, who was tossing Sadie a ball, told me that when she was young, her family put this short poem on their dog's house:

MOTTO FOR A DOG
by Arthur Guiterman

I love this little house because
It offers, after dark, 

A pause for rest, a rest for paws,

A place to moor my bark.

Sadie prefers Kitty's bed to her own

Born in 1871, Arthur Guiterman was famous for his clever humor and quick language.  He wrote of technological advances and modern progress in poetry, novels and satires. He addressed the hypocrisy of the ladies of Daughters of the American Revolution and other similar organizations. Guiterman co-founded the Poetry Society of America in 1910. Guiterman was forever caught in the “now,” addressing the rapid and shocking evolution of society with humor and mental agility: "First dentistry was painless;/Then bicycles were chainless" as well as...“Now motor roads are dustless, The latest steel is rustless, Our tennis courts are sodless, Our new religions, godless.” ~ The information above, which I've shortened, is from this source.

In looking up Guiterman, I discovered that one of my fellow blogmates, JoAnn Early Macken, posted information about him in 2016 and shared the very poem you just read.😊 

In her post, JoAnn writes: "The last line always grabs me. I didn’t realize the double meaning at first: a bark is a kind of boat; of course, a dog’s bark would be moored (tied up) somewhere cozy and safe. And the pause/paws homonyms add to the poem’s genius." 

Thank you, Matt, for hosting Poetry Friday this week 
on Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme

posted with hope by April Halprin Wayland,
with help from Sadie's big sister, Kitty

WHO PUT THE PUP IN POETRY?

 

Howdy, Campers ~ Happy Poetry Friday and Happy Poetry Month! (poet Joan Bransfield Graham kindly sent me that article)

Many of you may remember that our beloved 14-year-old dog, Eli died last October.  It hit Kitty hard. She wouldn't sleep in our bedroom. She didn't purr for two weeks.

Although Eli was a large dog, our empty house reminded me of a poem I wrote when my mom's dog died:  

ON THE DEATH OF A SMALL DOG

Opening the front door,
there is no small sound of clicking nails
on the wooden floor
no bright eyes
no jumping, dancing dog.             

I have opened a pomegranate
and found no ruby seeds --
only this
hollow
shell.

published in Cricket Magazine November, 1999

Last week, we felt ready for a new dog. We knew exactly what we wanted: a cat-friendly, submissive dog, about a year old. NOT a puppy. 

Well...
we got two out of the three.  

Introducing four month-old Sadie, who fills our lives with laughter and whose puppiness creeps into most of my poems these days--hence, the title of today's post. 

                       

I began writing a poem a day on April 1, 2010 and I've been writing one a day ever since. Today I'm offering you a few dog poems I wrote during Poetry Month 2013. (Keep in mind they're Ruff Drafts.)

 

You can read them all here: https://www.aprilwayland.com/poetry/2013-poetry-month/

Here are a four, just for you:

WHAT NOT TO NAME YOUR DOG ~ rough draft
by April Halprin Wayland

Hy.
Hello.
Hey.

Trust me. You don’t want your dog
spinning in circles
wondering who's calling his name.

And do NOT name your child after a month.
Trust me.
I have whiplash for thirty days every spring.
==================

IF OUR HOUSE WERE ON FIRE, DOG, WHAT WOULD I TAKE? ~ rough draft
by April Halprin Wayland

I would take you
just you…

Well, you
and the usual zoo:

our tortoise and frog and our noodle-brain dog
and the cat that purrs if I can find her

and Mom’s grand piano, my scarf from Berlin
Dad’s old typewriter, my violin

and you.
==================

DISCIPLES AT THE DOG PARK ~ rough draft
by April Halprin Wayland

At this moment,
Tom is either
Mr. Cook, second grade teacher,
or God.

In the dust of the park,
five dogs sit tightly around Tom,
who is standing,
holding a dried chicken chip,
as if it were a gold medallion.

Pick me, pick me, pick me,
they seem to be saying,
like second graders,
waving their bare arms in the air.

If I sit up the straightest,
he will give it to me,
they seem to be saying,
noses held high,
backs straight,
tails up, wagging wildly.

Or perhaps they are worshipping,
praying with all their might
to the tall guy
who holds the answer to everything.

======================

DOG EXPLORER USES HIS NOSE ~ rough draft
by April Halprin Wayland

Sniff, o, sniff—what glorious fumes
coats the world beyond these rooms?

You with your pens and their feathery plumes—
sit ’round the table in your conference rooms

but I have a calling beyond these doors
to the tang and the stink at the wild waves’ shores

while you’re puzzling over lines of ink,
I’ll be rolling in things that stink!

I’ll catch the tang of a porcupine’s trail,
decoding flavors that tell a tale.

You find words, I’ll follow vapors
I’ll bound through meadows, you plough your papers.

As your new poem begins to speak
I’ll uncover a treasure that reeks!

================================

National Poetry Month was established in 1996 by the American Academy of Poets.

Here are two events for your edification:

April 9, 2024 9am PST…I’m the guest speaker in Poetry Month at Rebecca Gold’s Yogic Writing Circle I’ll speak for 30 minutes with a Q & A at the end. Each session includes a daily writing circle, Tuesday and Thursday co-writing sessions, and monthly guest speakers. Sign up on her website. Rebecca is an amazing teacher; I HIGHLY recommend her newest book, From Your Mat to Your Memoir.

April 13, 2024 11:30am PST…FREE Adult Poetry Writing Workshop. How to Put WOW in Your Poetry (Don't you want to know what WOW stands for?!?) We'll play with words and have time for writing and sharing. Chances are, your writing will never be the same. Join us for the fun at the Hermosa Beach Library 550 Pier Ave, Hermosa Beach, CA 90254

Thank you, Irene, for hosting Poetry Friday this week at Live Your Poem

posted by April Halprin Wayland with a hug she wishes weren't virtual

 

 A photo from long-ago when Monkey and Eli regularly read poetry to each other

poems (c) 2024 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

3 Dogs in My Writing Room!

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Howdy, Campers, and Happy Poetry Friday!  (My poem and the link to PF is below.)

For a short and sunny summer read, we TeachingAuthors are posting the view from my / of my work space.  So far, Bobbi's shared summer windows and her animal editors , Mary Ann shared two rooms with a view...and coffee, Esther offered us picture book author Zakieh Mohammed's Wednesday Writing Workout, and then she shared a photo of the "one wonderous addition" from her summer windows.

If I turned around from my desk, I'd see Eli chewing on whatever toy he's chosen from his toy drawer...

...but usually I'm poeming, politicking and bouncing on the BOSU ball I stole from my husband years ago:

working at my desk, August 2013.
Photo by Jone MacCulloch
.

This is Our Summer of Dogs. My son and his fiancee are overseas, so Eli's two "nieces," Penny (the smart, shy, territorial butterscotch and white 8-year-old) and Gin (the bouncy, licky black 9-month-old puppy whose sibling's name was Tonic), are staying with us. For six weeks.

Everyone has chosen a toy from Eli's toy drawer.

Since Jone took the photo of me on the Bosu ball above, I've turned my desk to face the wall. (I rescued the letters from a business that was changing its name.)

Three dogs has been an adjustment.

That's the understatement of the year. I know it's not the same as moving to another state, changing my name, or becoming an electrician. Still, it feels as if I'm working on a master's degree in walking three dogs and picking up more than one poop at a time.

THREE DOG WALK

by April Halprin Wayland

One dog is just one.

Him and me.

Hear me hum.

Two dogs are just fine.

Two dogs.

In two straight lines.

Three dogs?  My gosh—unstoppable!

Friends say they will strengthen me.                                                   (I say they are all adoptable!)

poem (c) 2019 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

Have a wonderful last whiff of summer or beginning of a new school year, Campers!

And thank you, Amy, for hosting Poetry Friday at The Poem Farm! 

This week, Amy's hosting a celebration of the life of Lee Bennett Hopkins; she invites everyone who wishes to share a poem inspired by or including a line from a LBH poem. Tag with #DearOneLBH.  

Stay tuned! TeachingAuthors will continue the appreciation
of Lee's poetry on September 20th.

posted by April Halprin Wayland, with the help of Eli, Penny and Gin, with love

1 Poem I Wrote When I Was Young(er)--and Happy Poetry Friday!

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Howdy Campers!  Happy National Dog Day on August 26, happy book birthday to a new and marvelous poetry resource, A POETRY FRIDAY POWER BOOK PET CRAZY By Sylvia Vardel and Janet Wong. (more on this book soon)....and happy Poetry Friday! The link to PF is below.

I'm in Kauai, and the other day we went on a glorious red-dirt tropical jungle hike, and within an hour, the heavens opened, pouring bathtubs of water on us for over an hour!  The upshot was a hilariously red-mud, slippery and stunning hike...and a drenched cell phone which lingered in a coma in a bag a rice for 24 hours, was transferred to the ICU of dehumidifying crystals, and died a sad death yesterday morning.

Which is a long way of saying that the universe did me a favor by ripping my cell phone out of my grip but also messing with me, my brain, my calendar and the fact that it is my turn to post today--oops!

None of my photos from the hike survived to float up to the cloud, so here's a picture I took of a bumpersticker the day before our hike for your amusement:

I'm the last to post on our topic along the lines of What I Wrote When I Was Young (scroll below for what I'm sure are magnificent posts by my fellow bloggettes--I haven't read them yet)

I've decided to offer you a poem I wrote it on this date seven years ago, when I was five months into my first year of writing a poem a day.

Enjoy!

I LIKE SUMMER IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER
by April Halprin Wayland

I like summer

when Eli is chewing his old bone

which hasn’t had meat on it for forever

and it is a gnawing chewing crunchy sound

and I just mixed yogurt and honey and pecans together which is

deeply delicious

I like the summer

when Mom opens the roof of our old car

and we zoom down the road with all the windows down

and my job is to watch Eli to make sure

he’s only putting his head out of the window

and not trying to hang his whole body out.

I like summer

when shoes are optional and I opt no

and the breeze is good on my shoulders

and the cement is hot on the bottoms of my feet

and we get to go to the thrift store after all the errands

and I can buy anything I want for three dollars

and I pick the little red boat with a real sail

I like summer

when Dad puts one leg on the arm of our old couch

and he’s reading a mystery novel

and its night and you can hear the crickets outside

because the door is open

and Mom and I are playing Scrabble

and I have all the letters for SUMMERY

and the first M and the Y are on triple letter squares.

I like summer

because my breathing gets slower

and we don’t have to go anywhere

and we walk the dog without shoes

and a postcard comes from my friend who lives on a sail boat

and I am almost there with him, swimming with the dolphins

and I am also here in our backyard, barefoot

eating a deeply delicious grape.

poem (c)April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved

Thank you, Jone for hosting at Check It Out!

posted with sun on my shoulders by April Halprin Wayland

What's Your Writing Ritual? A Mask Poem about Procrastination

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Howdy Campers and Happy Poetry Friday!

Thanks for hosting it today at Rogue Anthropologist, Kara!
.

We've been talking about writing rituals.  In her post, Carmela wrote:
"I didn't know that JoAnn likes to start her day writing in longhand before turning on her computer. Or that Jill tries to exercise first thing, even before breakfast. (Now that's what I call discipline!) Or that Laura, our newest TeachingAuthor, works best when she writes in short, intense bursts. But I was especially surprised to learn that none of them practice what they consider to be true writing rituals."

I'm not sure I have a ritual per se.

Before exercise class, I meditate for 30 minutes.  Part of my ritual as I settle down to meditate is to open an invisible book and ask to be a channel as a writer.

Perhaps my ritual is Doing Everything But Write First (which can be incredibly productive or incredibly fattening.)   

I actually call it Circling the Chair Time:

       PROCRASTINATION
      by April Halprin Wayland
       
            Ancient dog
            circled in the grass
            round and round
            to tamp it down

            I am dog
            circling, too
            round and round
            as all dogs do
            round my homework,
            round my desk
            finally, working
            then I rest.
           
           published in Cricket Magazine       
 poem and drawing (c) 2014 April Halprin Wayland all rights reserved
.

The above poem is a mask poem--written from the point of view of something that doesn't speak.

What's your ritual? Monkey wants to know.

P.S: MUCH more on this later, but we are proud to announce that several TeachingAuthors have poems in the newest edition of Janet Wong and Sylvia Vardell's amazing Poetry Friday Anthology series...this one is the Poetry Friday Anthology for Science-grades K-5--wooo wooo!

You can get all grade levels, K-5 in one magnificent book...

...or individual books available by grade level...check them out!

posted by April Halprin Wayland with help from Monkey and Eli.

WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME? Going on a Poem Hunt...an early poem for Poetry Friday

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Howdy Campers!

It's not actually Poetry Friday yet, is it? Well...this Friday, our friend Sylvia Vardell of Poetry for Children will be hosting it, just in case you want to get in line now...

No, it's not Poetry Friday; still, I'd like to talk about how to catch a poem today. But first--today's Eli's 3rd birthday!

 

 Happy Birthday baby dog!

Every morning, Eli and I walk to our local coffee house.  Eli thinks we're on a walk, but actually, we're on a poem hunt.

To catch a poem, I've learned some guidelines: be present.  Be silent.  Be aware of shoe sounds on the sidewalk, of the crow on the wire, of the yippy dog down that steep hill.  Poems may be hiding in a memory that slips past my distracted brain. Some mornings I catch a full-grown poem, some mornings only larvae. 

On our hunt the other day, I remembered what one of my friends said: "I'm learning to live in the question, rather than search for the answer."

Doesn't that sound sane, calming, and maybe just a tad Be-Here-Now-ish?

As I stood in line for my coffee, I wondered what questions I was fretting over.  Could I just hang out in my questions for awhile?

One was what to do with my never-good-enough novel-in-poems.  Another was how to deal with my 89-year old mother without the tension I feel when she forgets something I just told her.

Later in the day when I sat down to write, it was hot, it was muggy, I was tired.  I was not feeling as deep as either of those questions.  So I turned to my default poetry source: dog.  What kinds of questions would a dog ask?  Hmmm...

Oh,no...you didn't...how could you...not again?!?  Bad dog!

WHY ARE YOU YELLING?
by April Halprin Wayland

He tilts his head.
Your shoe in shreds.

He missed your smell.
He knows it well.

He chewed your shoe
to be with you.
(c)2012 April Halprin Wayland all rights reserved.

Thankfully, Eli's past the chewing phase.  When he turned two, it was as if he walked through the door marked CALM DOGS ONLY.  So if you have a big doofus dog, take heart--there's hope!

WRITING WORKOUT - QUESTIONS

1. What question are you fretting over? Or...what question would your pet or an inanimate object fret over?
2. Write a poem about it.
3. Remember to breathe.
4. Remember why you started writing in the first place and write with joy!

Poem, photos and drawing (c)2012 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

Dog Poems for Poetry Friday!

~
Howdy, Campers!
~
Every day in October, I played around with poems about two things:
a dog and a gift.  I wrote the obvious, I wrote cliches.  Then I tried to write the not-so-obvious.  I tried standing on my head and looking at the topic in a different light.

Here are some of the poems:
~
SURPRISE!
by April Halprin Wayland
~
I am hiding, hiding in a
big box with little holes
trying not to wiggle
my butt or wag my tail!
~
Open me, open me, please--
I am drooling to meet you!
~

HINT, HINT
by April Halprin Wayland
~
Mom—I don't mean to whine,
whimper, howl or growl...
it's just that
the holidays
are coming up
and I'm
really,
really,
really good
at picking up dog poop.

WHEN YOU HEAR GOOD NEWS
by April Halprin Wayland
~
when you yell HOORAY
when you are
Mexican jumping beans
and your eyes are
fourth of July sparklers
that is a gift
from the universe
saying good job, good job
or maybe saying
good dog, good dog
~

THUMP, THUMP, THANK YOU!
by April Halprin Wayland~
Look what I got for
Hanukah! Just what I itched
for—my very own boy!

FAVORITES
by April Halprin Wayland
~
My favorite aunt? Cissie!
My favorite uncle? Stu!
The best dessert?
Cheese cake!
My favorite number? Two!
My favorite holiday?
Hanukah!
The best weather? Foggy!
My favorite color? Purple!
The best present? Doggy!

And those are my Poetry Friday contributions centered around a dog and a gift!

Thanks to Laura Salas at Writing the World for Kids for hosting today!

~

So--how about writing your own dog/gift poems...
and sharing them here with us?

Remember to write with joy!

Poems, photos (of Eli, the photogenic dog) and drawings
c) 2011 April Halprin Wayland, all rights reserved

P.S. from Carmela Don't forget! Today is the last day to enter for a chance to win your own autographed copy of Leonard Marcus' just released The Annotated Phantom Tollbooth. Enter here by 11 pm (CST) TODAY!

THANKUs! Poetry Friday! And National Day On Writing!

x
Howdy, Campers!
~
I'm having the final word, I'm wagging the tail on TeachingAuthors' topic of the National Day on Writing, which was Wednesday, October 20th.
~
My very smart mother-in-law always said, "It's not your birthDAY...it's your birthMONTH."  I believe I speak for all six of us at TeachingAuthors: it's not National DAY on Writing but National LIFETIME on Writing!  (I'd like to quibble about why they chose to use the word "on" rather than "of"...i.e, National Day OF Writing.  I'd like to, but I won't.  Not today, at least.)
~
Ah...writing.  Mary Ann wrote a brilliant piece on actual pen-and-paper letter-writing. I agree with her--there are some things that demand paper and stamps, like thank you letters.
~
If you don't know what to say in a thank you letter, why not write a thanku?  I love, love, LOVE Esther Hershenhorn's invention of the thanku.
~
It's tougher to write a thanku than you'd think.  It's a haiku with a built-in topic, right?  Just three measly lines.  HOW HARD COULD IT BE?  I thought I'd pull one out of the nearby dog dish in five minutes.

HA!

THANKU FOR ALL YOU DO FOR ME.  LOVE, YOUR DOG #18

by April Halprin Wayland~
When you whistle, I

come. You smell divine—not as

good as dirt, but close.
or..
THANKU FOR ALL YOU DO FOR ME.  LOVE, YOUR DOG #23
by April Halprin Wayland~
I love licking your
hand.  It tastes great!  Not as good
as cat poop, but close.
~
Groan!

WRITING WORKOUT--THANKUs

Esther already explained how to write 'em and then encouraged you to write your own and post them at the National Day on Writing.
~
It never hurts to repeat a lesson--it's all about practice.  It took me four years of taking classes from Myra Cohn Livingston--four years of practice--before I understood and could hear poetic meter.

So...let's write more thankus--haikus that thank someone.  Then share yours with the person you are thanking.  Or with a child.  Or maybe, with a stray blogger...or six. (If I can show you THOSE thankus...you can certainly show us yours!  And now that I think of it, neither of those are real thank you notes except for the titles.  Okay.  So, show us yours!)

Remember to write with joy!  And happy...

Poetry Friday is sponsored today by my close, personal, 

never-met-her-in-flesh-and-blood-but-I-adore-her-friend,
Jama Rattigan at her fabulous food/words/poetry/photography blog, Jama's Alphabet Soup.

poems and drawing (c) 2011 April Halprin Wayland, all rights reserved