Poetry Break - Unusual Form

Technically, It’s Not My Fault
by John Grandits

I chose concrete poetry, inspired by John Grandits’ humorous look at the life of Robert, middle-schooler.

Introduction
Model creating a simple form of concrete poetry by showing students an object ( a plush cat, for example) and asking them to list words that identify parts of the item (ear, tail, whisker, etc.). Draw on outline of the object on a white board and write the words in the proper areas of the item. Then ask students to come up with additional words that tell how the item might smell, taste, or feel (soft), what kind of sound it makes (purr), what color it might be (tabby), or what movement it makes (pounce). Add those words to the board in appropriate places.

Share of selection of concrete poems from the book. Display copies of the poems as you read them on a smart board, with overhead transparencies, or using a presentation projector so students get the full effect of the concrete poems.

Click Picture to Enlarge

Extension

Prepare blank slips of white paper, just large enough for a single word to be printed on them. Have a bin of small items like a silk flower or leaf, a plastic bug, a toy car, a piece of plastic fruit, a marble, a kazoo, a selection of small plastic animals, a whistle, a doll, a rubber worm, etc. Have students each choose an item. Instruct them to print words that describe the item onto the paper slips and then arrange the slips into the shape of the item being profiled. They can glue the slips onto sheets of colored paper when they have an arrangement they like. Have them print a poem title and their names on the papers, then display for a class collection of concrete poetry. Older students might choose their own items based on a theme like “at the beach” or “Christmas time.”

Here’s another example from Love That Dog by Sharon Creech:

Grandits, John. 2004. Technically, its not my fault. New York: Clarion Books.

Creech, Sharon. 2001. Love that dog. New York: Joanna Cotler Books/HarperCollins.

Poetry Break - Poem Without Rhyme

And If the Moon Could Talk

   by Kate Banks

Introduction
Turn the lights out. Have students put their heads down on their desks and close their eyes. Ask them to imagine the items mentioned in the poem as you read it softly.

Somewhere a pair of shoes lies under a chair.
A window yawns open.
Twilight blazes a trail across the wall.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of evening
Stealing through the woods
And a lizard scurrying home to supper.

Someone hums quietly.
A clock ticks. A light flicks on.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of stars flaring up one by one
And a small fire burning by a tree.

Papa opens a book and turns the pages.
A story unfolds like a banner
Wandering across the sky.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of sand blowing across the desert
And nomads crouching by the dune.

On a small table sits a glass,
A wooden boat, a starfish, too.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of waves washing onto the beach,
Shells, and a crab resting.

Music chimes from a small box on a shelf.
A mobile stirs the air.
On a chair, a rabbit sits listening.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of the wind rocking a tree
And a bird safe in its nest.

Mama hands her child the rabbit.
She hugs her and pulls the blankets
Tight under her chin.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of a faraway den
And a lion licking her cubs.

Eyes close. There is a drowsy hush.
Darkness swells into a colorful dream.
And if the moon could talk,
It would tell of a child
Curled up in bed wrapped in sleep.
And it would murmur
Good night.

Extension
Have students think of something in their room at home or in their house. If that item could magically talk to you, what would it say? What emotion would it be feeling? Why?

Banks, Kate. 1998. And if the moon could talk. New York: Frances Foster Books/Farrar Straus Giroux.

Poetry Book Review - Verse Novel

Aleutian Sparrow by Karen Hesse

In this short novel of unrhymed verse, Karen Hesse tells the story of the Aleutian people who were relocated from their island homes when the Japanese navy invaded the area during World War II. The poems are the voice of Vera, a young Unangax girl on the verge of womanhood.

Well-adapted to life on the treeless, windswept islands of the south Bering Sea, Vera’s people struggle to survive in the unfamiliar conditions of southeast Alaska to which they have been evacuated. They are given little help by the governments of Alaska or the United States and are resented by the local residents of Ketchikan.

Vera speaks of her mother, her friend Pari, her beau Alfred, her preference for the traditional lifestyle of her people, and of her people’s struggles to adapt. Accustomed to the open sea and far vistas of her islands, Vera feels smothered by the heavily forested area surrounding the relocation camp:

Under a Canopy of Trees

Around our crowded camp, everywhere we turn, green life
rubs its moss skin against us.
The air steams green, and always the sound of dripping,
Always the smell of rot. Always green curtains smothering us.
On the Aleutians there are no trees.

Through her poems, we learn details of the Aleutian way of life and of the blended cultural heritage of the Unangax, a mix of Aleutian, Russian, and American traditions. The story of Vera and her people is one of sorrow and endurance. Especially moving are the small attempts they make to ease their homesickness and despair by singing songs, playing games, and celebrating holidays.

Though beset by physical hardships, illness, prejudice, and the death of loved ones, the remaining Unangax people survive years of exile to be returned to their native islands, though life there will never be the same:

Sea Change

After three years of promises we are back
Where the sun emerges from the galloping clouds,
Where one moment the rain ices our hair and the next a
rainbow arches over the volcano,
Where early grass ripples in the wind and violets lead an
advance of wildflowers across the treeless hills.

It all comes back so quickly, the particular quality of the air
where the Bering Sea meets the Pacific.
The Aleutian sparrow repeats over and over its welcome of
fluid notes.
Our resentment folds down into a small package and is
locked away under the floor of our hearts.
What other chance do we have to survive if we cannot forget?

The poems proceed chronologically, beginning just before the evacuation in May 1942 and ending with the return of the survivors to their ruined villages in April 1945. The section headings of the novel are illustrated by linocuts created by Evon Zerbetz, a relief printmaker living in Ketchikan who specializes in colorful animal portraits (http://www.evonzerbetz.com/). The endpapers are decorated with maps of the islands and pencil drawings of Aleutian wildlife.

While the poems are short and the reading level of the text is not challenging, Hesse’s precise choice of descriptive language conveys the shifting emotions of the Aleutians, their complex relationship between past traditions and contemporary survival, their quiet determination, and their lasting resilience.

In an author’s note, Karen Hesse says she was inspired to write of this little-known incident in American history by a school trip to the Alaskan city of Ketchikan. The note provides readers with historical background information and a short glossary of Aleut words is also included.

The sadness and injustice of this novel will resonate with readers and is probably best used with an older student audience. As an extension, students could explore the theme of “beauty lies in the eye of the beholder” by writing a paragraph describing a place they feel is beautiful, then trading papers and writing a second paragraph describing ways they might find their classmates’ “beautiful” places unpleasant or oppressive.

Hesse, Karen. 2003. Aleutian Sparrow. New York: Margaret K. McElderry Books/Simon & Schuster.