Fears set aside
revealing healed scars.
Threatening to flare up and become
tender at the thought
of trying again.
It must stop.
My past cannot define my future
I do believe.
Fears abating
I've let go.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
12 Days of Christmas Break
So as a single mom who adores her girls...I have written my version of the 12 Days of Christmas. When does school start again? J/k.
On the first day of Christmas Break
my girls told me,
"You're the meanest mommy."
On the second day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the third day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the fourth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the fifth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the sixth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the seventh day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the eighth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the ninth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the tenth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Ten ladies leaping,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the eleventh day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Eleven girls a griping,
Ten ladies leaping,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the twelfth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Twelve "She hurt my feelings,"
Eleven girls a griping,
Ten ladies leaping,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the first day of Christmas Break
my girls told me,
"You're the meanest mommy."
On the second day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the third day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the fourth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the fifth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the sixth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the seventh day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the eighth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the ninth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the tenth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Ten ladies leaping,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the eleventh day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Eleven girls a griping,
Ten ladies leaping,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Six arms a flailing,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
On the twelfth day of Christmas Break,
my girls gave to me,
Twelve "She hurt my feelings,"
Eleven girls a griping,
Ten ladies leaping,
Nine costume changes,
Eight rooms their wrecking,
Seven wrestling matches,
Five blood curdling screams,
Four foot stomps,
Three meltdowns,
Two tired cries
And a "You're the meanest mommy."
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Love to Learn
A teacher as a
learner,
is an interesting thing...
She is used to constant
m
o
t
i
o
n.
Sitting is not easy
in fact
it
can
get
D I F F I C U L T.
But learning
is
vital
for
her
and her
students
to
g
r
o
w.
learner,
is an interesting thing...
She is used to constant
m
o
t
i
o
n.
Sitting is not easy
in fact
it
can
get
D I F F I C U L T.
But learning
is
vital
for
her
and her
students
to
g
r
o
w.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Say It's Only a Paper Moon
learned her baby
girl will be here
soon.
Tonight her heart
hopefully started
to heal from a
sister lost.
Tonight the
man in the moon
proved hope
and love.
Tonight.
The Glorious Moon.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Loser
Loser, She is.
Sitting alone.
Left waiting again.
Purple dress.
Beautifully blown out tresses.
Long eyelashes.
Nerves of steel.
Tapping of the heels.
Thank goodness for Facebook.
How long do you wait?
Stood up.
Slip out,
Hopefully unnoticed.
Humilation.
Anger.
Loser, He is.
Sitting alone.
Left waiting again.
Purple dress.
Beautifully blown out tresses.
Long eyelashes.
Nerves of steel.
Tapping of the heels.
Thank goodness for Facebook.
How long do you wait?
Stood up.
Slip out,
Hopefully unnoticed.
Humilation.
Anger.
Loser, He is.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Rejuvenation
Last week I began my summer camps. I was looking forward to working with some future second graders and in the afternoon the young poets. I still have been reflecting on my time in NYC at Teacher's College. Trying to put it all in perspective. When I uttered something to a friend, "I just want someone in my corner." His smart reply was, "You're in your corner. You don't need anyone else." His retort wasn't what I expected. It shocked me. It literally made me stop in my tracks with my thinking.
Here I had arrived back from this wonderful trip from NYC that was supposed to be soul rejuvenating, but left me feeling as if a piece of my soul is missing. I can't seem to get my groove back. So, I was really hoping that going back to a semi-quasi routine would help.
Routines are just that a routine. Seeing my young poets grow each day was wondrous. By the end of the week, reading their work was pure joy.
Then when my friend uttered those words it hit me. I'm in my corner. I decide when I get out of my post NYC funkilicious issues. I decide. I decided what happens next. I decide. Not anyone else. It's not like I didn't know that, but to here the bluntness of it. The underlining stop trying to please others and do something for yourself was also there. I decide. So I decided.
Tulsa is not NYC. It never will be. But pining for a city thousands of miles away is only going to make the soul lonely. I could choose to pine away and forget the rejuvenation or choose to use the muse it was and let my soul fly.
I'm in my corner. Use the things I miss the languages, the culture, the colors and let it be My Muse, feed my soul. I'm in my corner is now what echoes when I begin to feel as if I can't take it another minute. I'm in my corner. The reminder.
My Muse was fed and she was rewarded.
Here I had arrived back from this wonderful trip from NYC that was supposed to be soul rejuvenating, but left me feeling as if a piece of my soul is missing. I can't seem to get my groove back. So, I was really hoping that going back to a semi-quasi routine would help.
Routines are just that a routine. Seeing my young poets grow each day was wondrous. By the end of the week, reading their work was pure joy.
Then when my friend uttered those words it hit me. I'm in my corner. I decide when I get out of my post NYC funkilicious issues. I decide. I decided what happens next. I decide. Not anyone else. It's not like I didn't know that, but to here the bluntness of it. The underlining stop trying to please others and do something for yourself was also there. I decide. So I decided.
Tulsa is not NYC. It never will be. But pining for a city thousands of miles away is only going to make the soul lonely. I could choose to pine away and forget the rejuvenation or choose to use the muse it was and let my soul fly.
I'm in my corner. Use the things I miss the languages, the culture, the colors and let it be My Muse, feed my soul. I'm in my corner is now what echoes when I begin to feel as if I can't take it another minute. I'm in my corner. The reminder.
My Muse was fed and she was rewarded.
The FarmA new born chick is born!Peep, PeepStacks of hayHorses, cows, ducks,Nay! Moo! Quack!The smell of baconThe taste of eggs (fried).On the groundWatch out the babies are here!By: Third Grade Young Poet
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Gender Poetry
Boys and girls approach writing differently and they write about different topics. I am hoping that this will allow my boys to feel more comfortable as we approach free verse writing this week.
I am the mother of girls, but I have a secret...I LOVE to teach boys. I love their humor and openness that they bring to the table. I'm anxious to see how tomorrow goes!!
If you are interested in learning more about boy writers, check out Ralph Fletcher's book Boy Writer's: Reclaiming Their Voices.
Monday, March 21, 2011
21/31
If you were to ask me I would describe Down syndrome as this.
My child moves
at her own pace
She sees the real people
She has learned
to overcome many
obstacles
Her life has been
on display
as doctors
therapists
teachers
all tell her
what to
do to
learn
But her life
is FULL
Her love is
IMMENSE
You are missing
out if you don't
know her--
LOVE her--
She is special
but not
because of
an extra
chromosome
She is special
because
she's
EMMA.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
17/31
Writers write.
Even though
My back hurts.
My fingers hurt.
My head hurts.
Yet I know writers write.
Today three of us
painted a fresh color
onto my house.
Words too can create
a freshness.
newness.
like the smell of new fresh paint.
To start again.
Renew
Much like an old house
with new paint.
Even though
My back hurts.
My fingers hurt.
My head hurts.
Yet I know writers write.
Today three of us
painted a fresh color
onto my house.
Words too can create
a freshness.
newness.
like the smell of new fresh paint.
To start again.
Renew
Much like an old house
with new paint.
Monday, March 7, 2011
SOLC 7/31
Today is a type of day where I feel my life as a writer is insignificant. I wonder how many of my writers in my classroom feel the same way on a given day. I'm stumped. Brain is empty. I have no idea what piece of today to share, so I will share my ramblings about it. Please note I'm trying to channel my inner fifth grader! :-)
Can't do it.
Don't make me.
I'm boring.
Life is boring.
Nothing happened.
It was a Monday
what do you expect.
Brain is tired.
It's a dreary day.
I'm cold.
Nothing to say.
Sigh.
Hmm...looks
like I wrote
anyway.
Can't do it.
Don't make me.
I'm boring.
Life is boring.
Nothing happened.
It was a Monday
what do you expect.
Brain is tired.
It's a dreary day.
I'm cold.
Nothing to say.
Sigh.
Hmm...looks
like I wrote
anyway.
Friday, March 4, 2011
SOLC 4/31
The smile of a friend.
In a baby's laugh.
Beauty is where we choose to find it.
Noticing it and not ignoring.
The little things.
Today beauty was
found.
In a child playing music
from his heart.
The tinkling of the keys
Furrowed brow of concentration.
Springing the chords
from his fingertips.
Simply beautiful.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
SOLC-Right Now
 |
| Feel free to leave your own slice at two writing teachers |
Right Now...
Right now I am thankful my girls are healthy.
Right now I am anxiously awaiting the new 5th graders to walk through my classroom door.
Right now I wish I could hold my parents in my arms and say all is well.
Right now I am happy that my parents are always near by and we will get through this trial.
Right now my family is remembering the life of my cousin as the one year anniversary of her death approaches.
Right now I am trying to be courageous and allow my children to leave the state with their dad without me.
Right now my body is healed.
Right now my heart has mixed emotions of happy, sadness, love, and excitement.
Right now I hope to live my life as if right now may end tomorrow.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Slice of Life 25/31
Really feel as if I am 100 lbs lighter,
Especially now that all entries are complete,
Letting go of the BOX,
I am so proud of my work,
Everything is as it should be now,
Freedom to write what I want.
Dear Slicers,
I am sorry I abandoned you on the journey this year, but I have been working on my National Boards, AND THEY ARE FINISHED!!! I will be joining you for the last week and look forward to reading many of your entries.
Missing Slicing and glad to be back,
Lynnelle
Especially now that all entries are complete,
Letting go of the BOX,
I am so proud of my work,
Everything is as it should be now,
Freedom to write what I want.
Dear Slicers,
I am sorry I abandoned you on the journey this year, but I have been working on my National Boards, AND THEY ARE FINISHED!!! I will be joining you for the last week and look forward to reading many of your entries.
Missing Slicing and glad to be back,
Lynnelle
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Slice of Life 2/31 Dream Sweet
Baths are finished,
hair combed,
footy pajamas slipped on.
"Brush teeth," signs Emma,
running to the wash room,
standing on the stool.
Humming while they brush,
giggling as they watch each other,
sisterhood in action.
"Read book", cries Gracie,
hop on elmo,
blankets pulled high.
Pages wisping,
"again, again," they say,
echoing my words.
Tuck, tuck them in,
star song sung,
"Dream sweet, my mommy!"
Heart melts,
who knew love so strong,
God watch over them and
dream sweet.
~LYS~
hair combed,
footy pajamas slipped on.
"Brush teeth," signs Emma,
running to the wash room,
standing on the stool.
Humming while they brush,
giggling as they watch each other,
sisterhood in action.
"Read book", cries Gracie,
hop on elmo,
blankets pulled high.
Pages wisping,
"again, again," they say,
echoing my words.
Tuck, tuck them in,
star song sung,
"Dream sweet, my mommy!"
Heart melts,
who knew love so strong,
God watch over them and
dream sweet.
~LYS~
Monday, December 14, 2009
DAY 14
Presents glistening under the tree,
air crisp, tingling my fingers,
winter arrives with chilling splendor,
It must be Christmas.
Giggles as we eat "ho, ho, ho" cake,
more, more yell the girls,
sprinkles on the floor,
It must be Christmas.
Giving of ourselves
our time,
realizing others lives are not like mine,
It must be Christmas.
air crisp, tingling my fingers,
winter arrives with chilling splendor,
It must be Christmas.
Giggles as we eat "ho, ho, ho" cake,
more, more yell the girls,
sprinkles on the floor,
It must be Christmas.
Giving of ourselves
our time,
realizing others lives are not like mine,
It must be Christmas.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Saying Good Byes
A simple call
leads to numbness.
Life changes in a moment,
never to be the same.
Memories of our childhood,
flash in my mind
as I drive to the hospital
to say my good byes.
The smells,
the sounds.
Those reminders
of my other memories here.
I see my aunt
your mother.
How do you say good bye
to your child?
My heart fills with sorrow,
it aches.
My sobs echo down the hall,
they do not heal you.
You are not aware.
You are not there.
I love you.
I will miss you.
How do you say good bye?
My silent prayers,
Trying to erase the sorrow here,
You are broken,
You are hurt.
Why must we say good bye?
Our childhoods together,
Our smiles in the pictures,
You hid your pain,
You carried it alone.
I'm sorry.
Watch over us,
Watch over my babies,
May you feel love,
May you no longer ache with sorrow,
Watch over your mother,
She is burdened with the loss,
Watch over you father,
Who fought to keep you here,
May happiness find you now.
Good bye, my cousin.
leads to numbness.
Life changes in a moment,
never to be the same.
Memories of our childhood,
flash in my mind
as I drive to the hospital
to say my good byes.
The smells,
the sounds.
Those reminders
of my other memories here.
I see my aunt
your mother.
How do you say good bye
to your child?
My heart fills with sorrow,
it aches.
My sobs echo down the hall,
they do not heal you.
You are not aware.
You are not there.
I love you.
I will miss you.
How do you say good bye?
My silent prayers,
Trying to erase the sorrow here,
You are broken,
You are hurt.
Why must we say good bye?
Our childhoods together,
Our smiles in the pictures,
You hid your pain,
You carried it alone.
I'm sorry.
Watch over us,
Watch over my babies,
May you feel love,
May you no longer ache with sorrow,
Watch over your mother,
She is burdened with the loss,
Watch over you father,
Who fought to keep you here,
May happiness find you now.
Good bye, my cousin.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Poem A Day
Flashes of my Day
interruption,
phone calls,
knocks on the door,
7 minutes of uninterrupted time,
library,
books,
adults who roll their eyes
at students who are not
in a perfect line,
sighs from me,
interruptions,
sighs from my students,
writing,
conferring,
students teaching others,
interruption-developmental films,
giggles,
SHHHHHHH from the nurse,
giggles,
LUNCH
with a student,
questions,
answers,
the realization that
despite the day,
I wouldn't trade it
for the world.
interruption,
phone calls,
knocks on the door,
7 minutes of uninterrupted time,
library,
books,
adults who roll their eyes
at students who are not
in a perfect line,
sighs from me,
interruptions,
sighs from my students,
writing,
conferring,
students teaching others,
interruption-developmental films,
giggles,
SHHHHHHH from the nurse,
giggles,
LUNCH
with a student,
questions,
answers,
the realization that
despite the day,
I wouldn't trade it
for the world.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Challenge #31~Today~
As I was getting my girls' dinner ready I saw a bird's nest and even though we had 8 inches of snow on Sat. and 60 degree weather on Sunday. I felt that Nature was speaking to me through this beautiful sight.
Today I am one step closer to being the teacher I always dreamed I would have.
Today I am reminded to pause and embrace the moment.
Today I believe my life journey is for a reason.
Today I hope I can make a difference in someone's life.
Today I can forgive myself for not being perfect.
Today ends.
Tomorrow begins.
A new to-day.
Inspired by Ruth's post on TWT.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Challenge #27~In Honor of My Class~
Journey of Writers
In honor of my class of 2008-9
LYS
The sea of faces,
Changes each year.
Each one unique.
I don’t know you yet,
But I will.
As we ride the journey together
You tentatively jump aboard.
This new day.
Days of writing, revising, and writing and revising.
Overcoming our fears,
Realizing we are all writers.
Growing one-by-one.
Fears abate,
Trust occurs,
Crafting our words.
This journey will take
a new shape at the end,
But do not fear,
For they will gently move you farther.
Celebrate with me
So we all can see
The journey of writers during a year.
In honor of my class of 2008-9
LYS
The sea of faces,
Changes each year.
Each one unique.
I don’t know you yet,
But I will.
As we ride the journey together
You tentatively jump aboard.
This new day.
Days of writing, revising, and writing and revising.
Overcoming our fears,
Realizing we are all writers.
Growing one-by-one.
Fears abate,
Trust occurs,
Crafting our words.
This journey will take
a new shape at the end,
But do not fear,
For they will gently move you farther.
Celebrate with me
So we all can see
The journey of writers during a year.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Challenge #24~Spring Life~
Today as the weathermen prepares us for severe weather I wrote this concrete poem for my class. Sorry it's in Scridb, but it was the only way I could get it to look correct on the blog.
Concrete Poem
Concrete Poem
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