Wednesday, July 7, 2010

How About a Poetry Contest?

I got this idea from Tracy, so blame him.

He posted a poem called "Kick a Little Stone" on his blog and then said, "The simplicity of this poem blows me away. Topics [in the book] range from kicking stones to going to the beach to swinging up, up into the sky."

So. Go to Tracy's blog. Read the poem. Get a feel for it.

Then come back here and write your own.

The Rules:

1. Keep it short. I'm not looking for Paradise Lost.
2. It must be about something children do.
3. You can be serious or funny. Please don't be oblique or metaphorical. I'm not up for that today.

Small print: No prize will be awarded, but a winner will be named.


Mine:

Wagon Bumps


Daddy pulls the wagon

Over sidewalk cracks

He rolls it through rain puddles

The wheels leave skinny tracks

We hurry under dripping trees

My mouth is open wide

We take a hairpin turn so fast

The back wheels start to slide

I’m shaking in my wagon seat

Rattle-battle-thump!

And then my wagon’s in the air

It’s hit a tree root bump

Daddy stops and looks behind

There’s worry on his face

But I just smile my biggest smile

And say, “Pick up the pace!”

9 comments:

Jonathon Arntson said...

Swing Creek.

Early morning
Head to Swing Creek
Gonna book it
I'm not weak

I've been this way before
There's no trail to see
Green rushing passed
Just me and my memory

The green drops away
Wild strawberries on the banks
I swing across the stream
Joining their ranks

Hours and hours alone
Sitting, swinging, swishing
Just me and Swing Creek
And we do a bit of fishing

The day comes to a close
Sun setting on my find
Green rushing passed
Leave Swing Creek behind.

Tracy Edward Wymer said...

I wrote this awhile back, but it does the trick:

A Stick Can Be

A stick can be this
A stick can be that
A stick can be anything
Skinny or fat

A stick can be long
A stick can be short
A stick can be a pole
In my treehouse fort

A stick can be a cane
A stick can be a sword
I can be a knight
Or a mighty overlord

A stick can be round
A stick can be flat
A stick can be this
A stick can be that

If enough people enter, we might just accumulate a children's book of poems.

Anita said...

I'm a horrible poet. I love the first three here, though, and look forward to reading the rest.

Paul Michael Murphy said...

Get the word out, Tracy.

Tina Laurel Lee said...

I like those!

I think I took a wrong turn with this one, but here is another:

things in the grass looking like rats, new born animals, bunnies maybe?

an 11 year old scans the internet, eye dropper kitty formula, 4 hour schedule,

every morning for 7 days up with the dawn, wiggling creature hardly as big as his hand.

first one dies, in his open palm. Breath slow, labored. his body feels so cold he said this one is going to be dead.

The second one, a call at the grocery store, why do you think, he asked? What should I do?

Then another, overnight. On the forth of July

Still, every morning, microwaving tiny cups. two front teeth, formula out the nose

the strongest one remained, moved round the card board box,
finally had the jack rabbit legs, but his head so long, ears so short.

they don't make good pets the internet said. wild bunny babies, too hard to keep alive said everyone else

every time another died, I feel so bad about myself, said the 11 year old.

but I watched a kid determined, calling from the swimming pool, time again to feed the bunnies.

Today he woke up and watched the tv.

Anonymous said...

Writing on the sidewalk at my grandma’s with some chalk
Has made her neighbors wonder some, when they’re out for a walk.

Grandma says my writing is unique and special too.
I like to use the colors pink and purple, like my shoe.

Purple words like “CAT,” and “BARK,” go criss-cross on the ground.
And then the pink chalk gets a turn. Squares go all around.

Neighbor Ed comes by and asks me what it is I’m making.
Then he gets his camera…a picture he is taking!

Neighbor Nell is curious so she comes walking over.
She nearly trips and falls face first, in a patch of clover!

The little boy next door is hopping on my nice, pink square.
He thinks I’ve made a hopscotch game. He thinks that I should share!

My grandma thinks the neighbors all are acting quite absurd.
They don’t realize I’ve made a colorful crossword!

Anonymous said...

Forgot my title: Sidewalk Chalk

Sharon K. Mayhew said...

How fun! I love the poems that you have up here so far!

Jonathon Arntson said...

Who's the winner?