Poetry Friday: “Watch Me!”

Like so many of my poems, this one was inspired by one of my kids. My 3-year-old, to be precise.

You see, ever since he figured out how to walk, he’s been dancing.

Check that. He was gettin’ down with his bad self even before he could walk. He’d be lying in his playpen or feeding chair, just chilling out…when all of a sudden he’d hear music and start wriggling and kicking and laughing.

Now that he’s 3 and can actually cut a rug, he’s a riot to watch. And when he starts singing along to what he’s dancing to…well, he brings the house down. A real song and dance man, that one. This one’s for you, Little Dude.

Not the best pic in the world…but here’s the little guy from Halloween 2012, in full chimney sweep regalia, recreating his favourite scene from ‘Mary Poppins!’ Dick Van Dyke’s got nothin’ on this kid.

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“Watch Me!”

I’m the world’s greatest dancer – I dance all day long
To a couple of beats or a ten-minute song,
To a light little rhythm or rock-heavy beat;
It’s amazing, the things I can do with my feet!

I can shimmy and spin, I can swing and sashay,
I can turn, step, and pivot – then shuffle away.
I can fox-trot and mambo, and jitterbug, too!
There is simply no dance that is too hard to do.

I can two-step and twist, I can boogie and bop,
I can tango and tap, I can hustle and hop,
I can rumba and samba and break, lock, and pop;
No, I’ll never be, EVER be able to stop!

I can dance dawn til dusk, and from dusk til it’s dawn,
I can dance in the kitchen or out on the lawn;
I’ve the speed of a cheetah, the grace of a swan –
And I’m even way better when the music’s turned on.

- © 2013 Matt Forrest Esenwine

For all of today’s Poetry Friday happenings, stop by Robyn Hood Black’s blog, Read, Write, Howl!

Poetry Friday: “Crocus”

I’m guessing this will be the last poem I feature from my winter-themed collection of children’s poetry; with April (National Poetry Month!) just around the corner, winter is definitely behind us.

I wrote this last year, specifically because I wanted a poem that would serve as an appropriate end to my manuscript.  Aside from the fact that the collection is all about winter, I organized the poems chronologically, starting with one about trees losing their leaves, moving on to the holidays, through January and February, and finally concluding with the promise of spring. I thought a crocus would be the perfect image for the two competing seasons, considering it often grows through snow…so I hope you like it!

Mary Lee and Franki at A Year of Reading are today’s Poetry Friday hostesses – so pop on over and see what else is happening in the kidlitosphere!

“Crocus”

When winter’s winds are on the wane
And sunshine warms young April days,
When snow gives way to slushy rain
The crocus springs anew.

While crouching ‘neath the frosty crust,
On tender bended stem it prays
To fend off one more crushing gust
And melt the frozen dew.

- © 2013 Matt Forrest Esenwine

By the way, speaking of National Poetry Month, I’ll be participating in Irene Latham’s 2013 ‘Progressive Poem’ at Live Your Poem.  No, it has nothing to do with politics – it’s a poem that will start with one blogger on April 1 (Amy Ludwig VanDerwater) and travel from blog to blog each day, with each blogger adding a new line to the poem. By the end of the month, we’ll have a completed poem!  (I’ll be adding the third line to the poem on April 3 – so please check back, and follow along with all the bloggers!)

I’ll also be featuring poetry in all of my April blog posts (each Tue. and Fri.), so I hope you’ll join me.  Remember, if you subscribe to this blog you’ll always be notified when a new post has made made!

Poetry Friday: “Irony”

If you’ve been following the #MMPoetry March Madness competition at Ed DeCaria’s website, www.ThinkKidThink.com, then you know some of the insanely difficult words that the poets (a.k.a. the ‘authletes’) are being required to write poems with:  periphery, deleterious, anthropomorphization, and many others.

My poem from last week, featuring the word verjuice, failed to garner enough votes to push me into the second round…but it hasn’t stopped me from encouraging folks to continue visiting Ed’s site and reading and voting on each new round of poems. And there have been some terrific ones, too!

But as I thought about the polysyllabic poetic predicaments my fellow poets had gotten themselves into, I remembered this poem of mine that I wrote about a year ago…with polysyllablism to spare! Hope you like it. Be sure to visit Greg Pincus at Gotta Book for all the Poetry Friday happenings!

Irony

My teacher said we had to write a poem using couplets.
I thought about it for a while, and used the word ‘quintuplets.’

But then she said my poem didn’t have alliteration.
So I came up with, “creaky, crusty, crabby ol’ crustacean.”

She gave it back to me because it wasn’t metaphorical.
I told the crazy bat my characters were allegorical.

“But where’s the simile?” she asked. “It needs some more revision.”
(I wished I could have turned her off, like dad’s old television)

Her eyes got red, she glared at me – and said it wasn’t metrical.
I stared right back and stated every iamb’s academical.

I turned it in and waited for my grade with apprehension.
For all that work, I got an ‘A’!

I also got detention.

- © 2013 Matt Forrest Esenwine

Poetry Friday: “Monster Supper”

Yes, I realize Halloween is both months away and months behind…but I had to post this now.

You see, back in early January, the creative yet enigmatic M.M. Socks posted a poem titled, “Eyeball Dinner” on his blog.  It got me thinking about what else might be served at a dinner that included eyeballs on the menu. But then, of course, I had to carry the concept further in my mind…and wondered what the whole dinner experience might be like.

Hence, the inspiration for “Monster Supper.” Hope you like it!  Or are at least able to get all the way through it. Today Sheri Doyle is hosting Poetry Friday, so be sure to visit her blog for links to all of the day’s offerings!

“Monster Supper”

Come, little monsters,
Sit down, take a seat!
Are your hands filthy?
Good!
We can finally eat!
Your mummy has made you
A terrible feast –
So you can grow up
As a strong, healthy beast.

Remember your manners
And don’t sit up straight;
Burp when you want to
But don’t clean your plate.
Put down those forks!
Play with your food!
Talk while you’re chewing
And always be rude.

Have some weed salad
With fried crispy lips!
I cooked up a rump roast
And saved you the hips.
You’ll love these fresh toenails –
The crunch is superb!
Or try some steamed muscles
With butter and Herb.

The sweet pickled pelvis
Is slimy and cold,
The grilled duodenum
Is starting to mold;
There’s liver lasagna,
Hot skeleton stew,
Gall bladder casserole,
Finger rolls, too!

So eat up, my darlings,
And make sure you drool –
But always remember
My dinnertime rule:
If you don’t eat your eyeballs
And finish your dirt,
You can’t have warm chocolate
Spleens for dessert.

- © 2013, Matt Forrest Esenwine

Poetry Friday: “Mud Pies for Sale!”

Perhaps I’ve been too serious lately.

I was just looking back over some of my recent Poetry Friday posts and noticed a plethora of deep, sensual, or poignant poems. (Well, except for last week’s homage to the next Super Bowl champions, the Baltimore Ravens)

I’ve offered a tanka dedicated to my wife, a tribute to her grandfather, and even poems about poetry itself.  I’ve probed life, death, consciousness, and inspiration.

Time for some silly.

We had insanely strong winds here yesterday – over 50 mph gusts – and even now, they’ve only died down to about 30 mph.  These were accompanied by heavy rainfall in the early morning hours and far-above-seasonal temperatures resulting in a giant, mushy mishmash of messy mud.

But I do have to admit, the dirt-speckled, half-molten snow definitely set off the more earthy, monochromatic tones of the rest of the scenery.

You’ll understand, then, why I thought this would be an appropriate poem to share.  It’s something I wrote two years ago, but for which I have yet to find a home.  I’m thinking of including it in my ‘food’ poetry collection (oh, yes , there’s a manuscript for that, already), just to be cheeky.  Hope you like it!  And for all of today’s Poetry Friday shenanigans, visit the Gang o’ Six at Teaching Authors!

Facial, anyone?

“Mud Pies for Sale!”

Mud pies for sale, mud pies for sale!
All made from scratch, fresh from the pail!
We use the finest mud and weeds
To satisfy your mud pie needs.
The dirt is dug right from the ground;
It’s mixed with water, stirred around,
Then baked beneath the sun above
And set before you here, with love.
You’ll find no other pies in town
This muddy or this shade of brown;
Disgusting?  Gritty?  Do not frown –
Here, have a drink to wash it down!

Although…

If you don’t want what we’ve displayed,
You may not like the lemonade.

- © 2012 Matt Forrest Esenwine

Poetry Friday: Poems about poetry, inspired by poets

A little something to set the mood. Poets are supposed to be dark and brooding, aren’t we?

No, that’s not as redundant as it sounds.

Today I’m sharing three short poems that were written in response to blog posts by other children’s poets.  All three are about poetry, and were inspired by different means.

My point in sharing these, aside from simply offering them up for your reading pleasure, is to show
how inspirational networking can be!  Before I read the blog posts that inspired these poems, I had no intention of writing anything…but then, BAM!  The poems came to me, and I couldn’t help but work them out and get them on paper.

The first one, “A Poem,” was written after reading a Poetry Advocates for Children & Young Adults blog post by Father Goose himself, Charles Ghigna.  He had asked readers to comment on the topic, “What is poetry?”  Now, this was back in Nov. or Dec. 2011 - so I forget if the responses had to be in verse, but of course that was the form I chose:

“A Poem”

A poem has a heartbeat,
A poem has a touch;
One minute it may let you go
Or hold you in its clutch.

A poem’s breath is subtle,
Each tooth a tapered knife.
It laughs and cries with open eyes;
In short, a poem’s…life!

- © 2011 Matt Forrest Esenwine

The second poem, “Poet’s Plight,” was also written as a response to something Charles wrote; this time, it was a poem he had posted on his own blog, titled “Write Walking.”  He wasn’t asking anyone to reply, but as soon as I read his poem, I felt like I had to ‘answer’ it.  I initially wrote it in only about 5 or 10 minutes, so I’ve tweaked it since then…but I kind of like it.

Charles’ original poem:

“Write Walking”

If you should pass me on the way
And wonder what I said,
Please forgive the mutters made—
I’m writing in my head.

-  © Charles Ghigna, reproduced with permission of the author

And my ‘response:’

“Poet’s Plight (Just the Right Word)”
(Response to Charles Ghigna’s “Write Walking”)

And likewise, should you pass me by
And distant be my gaze,
Do not think me aloof or shy –
I haven’t slept in days!

- © 2012 Matt Forrest Esenwine

The third poem, “The Poet,” would never have been written had it not been for poets David L. Harrison and J. Patrick Lewis, who challenged readers of David’s blog to write their own Careerhymes, Pat’s original form of light verse in which a type of occupation appears in the first line.  Talk about rolling a pebble down a hill and watching it turn into an enormous, hurtling snowball!  There were so many responses, it was hard to keep track of everyone.  This is one of several I volunteered:

“The Poet”

A poet has but one desire;
Imagination feeds it.
He sets his sullen soul afire
And almost no one reads it.

- © 2013 Matt Forrest Esenwine

See that?  Three poems that demanded I call them into existence.  If I hadn’t read the blogs, these would have never seen the light of day.

So the next time you wonder if you should bother reading a blog, or commenting on a Facebook post, or posting a Tweet, don’t think of social networking as a tedious business necessity or a luxury you just don’t have time for – think of it as potential digital inspiration!

Ready for more poetry?  Then visit Renee LaTulippe at No Water River for today’s roundup, and have a great weekend!

Poetry Friday: Christmas cookies – and “Christmas Cookies”

For today’s edition of Poetry Friday, I had first thought I would simply refer folks to the adult poem I posted this past Tuesday.  It then occurred to me that, although I’m proud of the poem and the reasons for its inspiration, it might be a bit too depressing to lead into the joyous Christmas weekend.  Nothing against depression, mind you – poets like me thrive on it, of course - but I’m not the kind of morose individual who is constantly in a state of perpetual melancholy, so I decided a swing in the opposite direction for today might be appropos.

Around here, I do most of the baking; doubly-so this time of year.  My wife is a great cook, but she knows that if I weren’t doing what I’m doing, I’d probably be a chef somewhere.  Or a sous-chef.  Or a line cook.  Or just prepping salads at Ho-Jo’s.  Fact is, I love to cook, so the holidays give me all the reasons in the world to go overboard in the kitchen.

In the past two weeks, I’ve made 3 gallons of chili, a batch of homemade ham and potato cream soup, 5 different types of muffins, 6 different types of cookies, and a pumpkin-rum swirled cheesecake with a gingersnap-pecan crust.

This is all in addition to normal day-to-day cooking.

Did I mention I love this time of year??

Anyway, I thought I’d share a recipe for a traditional Swedish spice cookie called pepparkakor…along with a poem about Christmas cookies.  First, the recipe…these are cookies I bake every year, and although the recipe should make about 4 dozen cookies (depending on how big your cookie cutters are), I usually have to make two batches because I give so many away!

If you like gingersnaps, you’ll love these.

In Sweden, animal shapes are often used, but I use whatever I’m in the mood for.  Pepparkakor are so simple to make, they’re a great cookie to bake with your kids; you almost can’t screw them up!  In fact, my 2-year-old loves to help me cook, and it takes a small army and an act of Congress to get him away from the batter long enough for me to cut them out.

Ingredients
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter (salted or unsalted), softened
1/2 cup packed brown sugar (dark or light)
1/4 cup molasses (dark corn syrup will do, but molasses is better)
1 T. each ground cinnamon and ground ginger
2 t. ground nutmeg
2 t. ground cloves
and heck – while you’re at it, throw in some allspice, if you’ve got it!
1 t. baking soda
1 T. orange zest (optional)
2 T. cream or milk
2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup white chocolate, for decorating

Directions
In a large bowl, beat all ingredients – except the cream and flour – together with an electric mixer.
On low speed, mix in the cream, then flour, just until well blended (dough should be slightly crumbly, but even-coloured).
Wrap dough and chill until firm enough to roll, at least 30 minutes, but can also be stored overnight.
Preheat oven to 375 F.
On a lightly-floured surface, roll dough out in small batches to about an 1/8-inch thickness and cut using cookie cutters.
Place at least an inch apart on ungreased cookie sheets (this is where I LOVE parchment paper) and bake 5-7 minutes, depending on their size, until firm.
Let rest for a few minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool.
To decorate, simply melt the white chocolate in the microwave or double-boiler and dip portions of the top of each cookie; top with sprinkles, if you’d like.
Let stand at room temp to harden, and enjoy!

So there’s my traditional Swedish Christmas cookie, direct from the old country.

(Full disclosure: like many Americans, I’m a mutt: Swedish, German, Scottish, and English – with a weeeeeee bit of French you’d have to travel back nearly 300 years to get to.  So although the ‘old country’ is Sweden today, it might be a different country tomorrow.)

On to the poetry…

Unlike the other poems I post here, that have been revised, edited, revised, critiqued, revised, revised, revised, revised…this is only a second draft.  I don’t think it flows as well as it could, and I’m not sure if the last line has the punch of a typical poem of mine, so it probably has plenty of work ahead of itself – but considering the occasion, it was the obvious one to feature.  Hope you like it (such as it is), and be sure to pop over to My Juicy Little Universe for all the Poetry Friday offerings!

Christmas Cookies

When Christmastime is getting close,
We grab the cookie sheets
And dad and I start baking
My favourite kinds of treats!

We fill our bowls with flour and eggs,
We mix and stir and beat;
I try to hide the little bites
Of batter that I eat.

We cut out shapes of every kind
And cover them with sprinkles;
I make a tree of red and green
With one big star that twinkles.

Then put the cookies in the oven,
Let them slowly bake…
Before they’re done, I’m asking dad
What others we can make!

- © 2012 Matt Forrest Esenwine

Merry Christmas!

Poetry Friday: FOUR new poems at YARN!

This has been a busy poetry week for me!  My interview with J. Patrick Lewis was posted at the Poetry at Play blog, I’ve been in touch with two different editors about two different projects, I’m trying to finish up a couple of poems I started awhile back, and now – more news to report from the good folks at YARN!

Back in October, I told you about the online literary journal, Young Adult Review Network (YARN).  They had published my poem, “Apple Stealing,” as one of three poems they were using to promote their “Fall Treats” poetry contest.  Well, this time around, they’ve published FOUR of my poems! (I actually have my own page - I feel so special!)

These aren’t children’s poems, but I was never sure they really fit the ‘adult poetry’ niche, either…so I’m glad they found a home with young adults.  I hope you’ll enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed creating them.

And as if having four poems published simultaneously in an online journal such as YARN wasn’t enough, I was just notified by one of their editors that they are nominating “Apple Stealing” for a Pushcart Prize , which you can learn more about HERE.  This honour reflects upon the journal that publishes the prize-winning poem as much as it does the person who wrote it – so I wish YARN the best!

Like I said, what a week – whew!  But that’s still not all; for more great Poetry Friday offerings, please visit Amy at The Poem Farm.

Poetry Friday: “Wall in the Woods”

“Poetry in Windows”

I just like the way that sounds.  “Poetry in Windows.”  It conjures up all sorts of images, from actual poems in actual windows, to more abstract definitions of “poetry” and perhaps some transcendental interpretations of ‘windows.’

In this case, however, we’re talking about the former.  Specifically, The New Hampshire Writers Project’s annual Poetry in Windows event.

First, a little background:  The New Hampshire Writers’ Project will celebrate its 25th anniversary next year.  The 650 member-strong organization hosts several writing workshops throughout the year, two literary festivals, and Writers’ Day, a day of workshops, literary flash competitions, and book sales involving 250 writers from across New England. Their keynoter on April 6, 2013 will be author Andre Dubus III.  Last year, NHWP hosted 13 state poets laureate for a festival.  In addition to a formal program, they had readings across the state with New Hampshire poets.  NHWP offers the workshops, publishing advice, a quarterly New Hampshire Writer magazine, and several free events across the state, like Writers’ Night Out, a free social held the first Monday of the month.  (Membership is open to writers of all genres as well as readers and patrons who want to support the local writing community…so please click HERE and find out more!)
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Now then, getting back to “Poetry in Windows”…

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This is one of the many events NHWP hosts each year.  Writers and non-writers alike were asked to submit poems that somehow reflected the Granite State, and the best were selected to be displayed in the windows of downtown merchants of several NH communities, including the state capital, Concord.
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I was honoured to have one of my poems chosen!
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I didn’t write this poem with NH necessarily in mind; however, I did write it based on my life here, growing up in a rural town (my folks’ house is still on a dirt road!), being close to nature, and raising my kids in the country as well.  Hmmm…sounds like I wote it with NH in mind, after all!  I based it one something I used to tell my daughters when we’d see stone walls meandering across our property or even through the woods:  that we’ll never really know why they were put there.

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Other poets selected for the downtown Concord event included my good friend Sylvia Beaupre, Brandon Amico, Dianalee Velie, Midge Goldberg, Nancy Stewart, Barbara Hobbie, Linda Dyer, Marjorie Matthews, Jacqueline Garnett, Janet Barry, Becky Sakellariou, and Jennifer Militello.

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So if you happen to be in Concord, stop by Centrix Bank at 11 South Main St. and you’ll see this on display, along with all these other fine folks’ works throughout downtown.  I hope you enjoy it!  And for the complete roundup of all the Poetry Friday happenings, head over to Booktalking!

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Wall in the Woods

There’s a wall in the woods, hidden under the trees,
Made of mossy old stones piled high;
Where the soft fiddleheads grow and slowly unfurl,
And a thin little brook bubbles by.

There’s a wall in the woods neither level nor straight,
Sinking into the dirt and the clay.
It is strong but unsteady; deep cracks show its age,
For its builders have long passed away.

There’s a wall in the woods.  Years ago, in its youth,
This was farmland, a pasture, a field –
Now, meandering through the damp ruins of time
With its history gently concealed.

There’s a wall in the woods – yet there’s no way to tell
If it suffered through flood, fire or drought,
And we never will know what was being kept in…
Or, perhaps…what was being kept out.

- © 2012 Matt Forrest Esenwine

Poetry Friday: “First Time for Everything”

About a month or so ago, I was looking through some of the poems I’ve written over the past few years and came across this.  I thought it would be appropos for this time of year, so I decided to use it…last month.

But then this happens, then that happens, and before you know it, the season has gotten away from you!  So before the last leaf drops, allow me to present this little poem I wrote two years ago.  And for all of today’s Poetry Friday offerings, head over to Ed DeCaria’s blog here!

First Time for Everything

One cool October afternoon
I lay down in the grass
And watched the falling leaves of red
And gold and orange pass.

It must have been quite comfortable,
The sun and autumn breeze;
I closed my eyes and fell asleep
Beneath some maple trees.

When I awoke, I was amazed –
I could not see the sky!
A mound of leaves had covered me
Completely, three feet high.

Well, I must say, I’ve jumped in leaves
A hundred times or more,
But never had a pile of them
Jump onto me before.

- © 2010, Matt Forrest Esenwine