Poetry Camp, Day 2

The girls and I had another excellent day.  A cool morning cloud cover lent itself perfectly to some warm-ups down by the red X's.  We focused in our sense of hearing and dove right into the city and her early morning wake up.  We then discussed memory and created, "I Remember" poems:

I Remember
 By Eliana

I remember preschool.

The small room and how I tugged on mama's sleeve until I cried.

I remember moving to another room, and it wasn't fair because
it was still called preschool.

I remember crying because I always wanted to be the youngest.

I remember our pretty pink dresses and the hospital room.

I remember wondering how something so small
could have a beating heart.

I remember Italy.  I remember a new room and wondering why
the day was so long.

I remember when Attie rode me to the park on her red tricycle.

I remember Grams and Bobbo's house.

I remember stealing coke, gum and chocolate sauce.

I remember the gold.

I remember our bunk bed and how we
lined up all our books.

I remember going upstairs to a big classroom and
feeling like a big girl, like Attie.

I remember when Thalia slept in our bed,
crying when Attie switched schools,
and three years later,
when I did.

I remember mama helping me study and
Gillian giving me a high five.

I remember Lynn telling my mom I had a gift with poetry.

I remember my first report card, all A's.

I remember Colorado and I remember my first black diamond,
planning my life in a notebook.

I Remember
by Wren

I remember preschool.
I was crying.
I remember my dad's sad face when
his car crashed.
I remember the cars loud sound
while I drove to soccer.
I remember the smell of the good food
in the hotel at Buena Vista.
I remember my friend Matika holding my cat Vu.
I remember the last day of school.
It was a happy day.
I remember the first tooth I lost.
It was in Spain.
I remember the accomplishment of learning how to
ride a bike without training wheels.
I wonder what I'll remember next.

I Remember
by Mari

I remember tasting a sweet, creamy substance

they call ice-cream.
It was vanilla.
I remember exhilaration at
learning to ride a bike.
"Look Mommy!"
I said.
"No training wheels!"

I remember the special day
my birthday.
My mother would be
accompanying me to
Disneyland.

I remember my
twelveth birthday,
getting my first phone.
It is red and just like Gracie's.

I remember Gillian
her kind face smiling at me
as I approached.

I will remember
the pleasant day downtown
I know we will have.

Later, we meandered over to the Missoula Art Museum where the girls lost themselves in the eclectic works of the Missoula Trieenial Exhibit.  Their musings on various works are below:


That Old Feeling (art by Lela Autio)
by Gabriella

An explosion of colors, shapes and dimensions.
Neon bright colors burst off the page.
Crazy, cool, colorful.
The feeling of a kid's childhood, full of fun and crazy.
The ups and downs and whos and whys
all together in a funky piece of art.
I see why they call it, That Old Feeling.
Green, pink, blue, orange, red, black, yellow, green.
All neon and blasting with excitement.
Squares, circles, rectangles, squiggly, half circles and
never heard of shapes,
all in a collage of colors.




That Old Feeling (art by Lela Autio)
 by Eliana

Pink like strawberries when we try
to get their DNA
orange like the juiciest tangerine
green like the poison
blue like sincere eyes.

Black like the dirt with water
orange like the juiciest tangerine
yellow like the suns magical rays
blue like sincere eyes.

Red like the blood
black like dirt with water
green like the foam of tubing
yellow like the suns magical rays.

Blue like the rain in fairy tales
red like the blood
white like the mist in the morning
green like the foam of tubing.

Pink like the strawberries when we try
to get their DNA
blue like the rain in fairy tales
green like the poison
white like the mist in the morning.

Pink like the strawberries when we try
to get their DNA
orange like the juiciest tangerine
green like the poison
yellow like the suns magical rays
black like the dirt with water
blue like sincere eyes
red like the blood
green like the foam of tubing
blue like the rain in fairy tales
white like the mist in the morning.

Facing North
by Wren

Lonliness consumes this picture
but there is a happy side too.
The moon is full.
The world stopped so
these three birds
could leave this gloomy
picture and move on to a place
where lonliness is trapped
in a cage and it can't
get out.


Many Pieces (art by Kay Langland)
by Gabriella

Looks like the cabin.
Beautiful and mysterious,
but also simple.
The old dock with the stormy sky
and dark mountains in the background.
The simplicity of a boat,
specifically a canoe,
sitting there in the glassy water,
nothing there to disturb it.
Only an old camera could take
this brilliant picture.
The way it's formatted with beautiful copper,
slightly up and down.


Construction (art by Lorie Hoffman)
by Miko

Simple but complex elements of life.
Technology a pattern of wires and compositions
all woven together.
Bolts and screw of all lengths and heights,
a simple ring that holds great quantities of detail.
But what are those little red and white bubbles for?
Within them I have great interest.
What do they hold?
A yes?  A secret.
But what?
Ah, a mystery on paper.
And I will figure it out.

A. Erickson (art by Jennifer Pulchinski)
by Antigone

If you asked me how I would describe
this painting, I would say...
Intriguing, mostly
or maybe...disturbing.
Don't get me wrong,
it's an amazing work of art,
but perhaps because of
the lopsided head,
or the fact that I thought
it was a painting of a man,
but then later realized it was a woman,
is what made it distubing.
Or maybe its the hand,
that looks too small for the body,
and only has four fingers,
that put me on edge.
But on second thought,
it might be the see through
leg,
or the fact that half of the body
hasn't been painted yet,
so the legs don't quite connect
to the torso.
Yes, that's probably why if you asked me
how I would describe this painting,
I would say...
Intriguing, mostly
or maybe...disturbing.

 A. Erickson (art by Jennifer Pulchinski)
by Mari

I am a young
Santa Clause.
I am opaque,
see through,
so the imagination,
hopes and dreams of children
can drift through me!
I will not always
be like this
as I grow in age.
I will become solid
as the few children's beliefs
fade away.
One of my shoes
has fled my foot,
for they are not necessary
with my feet,
only swirling imagination.
I have a tendency to sit in a chair
this is invisible.
It so happens this chair is
made of dreams.
It so happens this chair
of dreams
makes my rump invisible.
I am a young Santa Clause
. I am opaque,
see through,
so the imagination,
hopes and dreams of children
can drift through me!

After lunch we read Pablo Neruda's The Queen and Kim Addonizio's Mermaid Song.  We used their inspired words about people they deeply love to move us into our next set of works.

Gracie
by Mari

I laugh
out loud
when you make a joke.
"Jeez, mom, stop it!"
you say.
I can't help but stifle
a giggle.

You think you're short
I don't mind.
Your personality is giant.

I can't imitate
yo mama jokes
no matter how hard
I try.

I don't care where you came from
or who you are.
You are my friend.
You are my friend.

Zella
by Antigone

Remember when
me and you,
we would make up pretend names
and tell everyone we were twins?
It didn't matter that you live
so far away,
we enjoyed
writing letters and
saving funny stories
to tell each other.

Remember when
me and you,
would go on that
one amusement park ride?
It didn't matter
that we got all dizzy.
It was fun,
a tradition that we just
don't have the heart to break.

Remember when
me and you,
we would tell
each other
stories at the dinner table
and our parents
would yell
at us to
eat more
and
talk less?
It didn't matter
that my mom thought
you were a picky eater.
We had the funnest times
at meals.

Remember when
you and me,
and lots of other people too,
were going to have a
water balloon fight
and instead, you drew cute little
smiley faces on the balloons and
refused to have them popped?
It didn't matter
that I wanted to have a water
balloon fight instead,
the balloons were funny
and made me laugh.

Remember how
you and me,
we were always so excited
to see each other?
It doesn't matter that it's only
once a year,
you're always the same, amazing,
picky eater friend
from Seattle.

Nicola
by Gabriella

Legs split on the dance floor.
Your tiny body
moving with such grace.
Everybody is whispering in disbelief
at your incredible talents.
But they don't know,
No
they don't know at all.
But I do.
I know you.
I know you like the back of my hand.
Beautiful
Graceful
Funny
Athletic
Whenever I can't sleep, I think of you
you and me, talking.
I think of your nimble body
moving on the dance floor.
I think of how you're going to be here any day now.
You and I are cousins
but just saying that doesn't mean anything.
We are friends.
Friends at heart
and friends on the dance floor.
Legs split on the dance floor.
Your tiny body
moving with such grace.
Everybody is whispering in disbelief
at your incredible talents.
But they don't know,
No
they don't know at all.
But I do.

The end of our adventures found us in two fabulous downtown shops, The Green Light and House.

The Green Light
by Antigone

I feel like reminding the rest of my crew
that we are just here to write,
because they are just about doing
everything but that.

I can see why though.
Groovy stuff litters the store,
and the bright green walls pop
out at you.

The air smells interesting because
candles are everywhere,
giving you the feeling
you could just stay here and
explore forever.

This is my first time at
The Green Light
but I can but you it
won't be the last.

The Green Light
 by Gabriella

The all natural everything store.
Clothing, cooking things, bags, dolls, nicks and nacks.
All natural.
Wallets, socks, candles.
All natural.
Nice people cards, chapstick.
All natural.
Jewelery, scarves, water bottles.
All natural.
The all natural everything store.

The Green Light
by Eliana

Loose, baggy, light.
A snowy night in Colorado.
A soft sky at sunset.

A sparkling laugh.
The calm ocean in Hawaii before bed.
The feathers of flight.
Happiness at its fullest.

The Green Light
by Mari

Pots and pans of every color,
mimi ramekins
a gas stove.
Yes, I feel at home here.
I will make a vegetable souffle or
a molten lava chocolate cake.
There's spices and produce that I will use
though it's not my kitchen,
it feels like it could be.
Pots and pans of every color,
mimi ramekins
a gas stove.
Yes, I feel at home here.

House
by Antigone

Sinking into a pile of clouds,
the still lake on a starry night
closing your eyes and hearing
the song of dreams
overcoming the stage of life.
You are now the song.
And,
free in the sky,
the rhythm is love.
 

House
by Eliana

The center of the autumn leaves.
The juice when you squeeze a lime.
The gritty, hot crystal sand.
As deep as you can dive when
there is still light.
The juiciest, fullest tangerine.
The red, glistening flames.
A firefly night.
The soft, green grass between
your bare toes.
A deep, daze of milky chocolate.
The bursting sun.



House
by Wren

House is perfect for
houses.
It's where they can relax and
don't have to do anything.
This is my second time
being in House and
now I'm starting to like it even more.

Poetry Camp: Day One

What a fabulous first day!  After some writing warm ups in my sunny living room, the seven girls and I headed to the base of Mt. Jumbo.  Our first exercise involved careful observations as we imagined what we would tell our grandchildren about this open space.  Our focus was on detail as we embarked on our, "What to Save" poems.


Mt. Jumbo
by Gabriella

The light, never seen before,
reflects brilliantly off
the trees, shows the butterflies that
dance with fairies, the canopy of trees and
shrubs around you,
the soft breeze rustles
the leaves, nature envelopes you.
I define this as paradise.
Light, a mystery to the eye,
the heat of the sun adds
to the experience.  One step and
it's gone, once again,
you re in the shade of rocks,
the banks around you,
you're in a river, no, a road,
a road of rocks in the mountains
of Montana.  You pick up a rock,
light and strong,
colors within colors,
the thought of time itself,
time creating this piece
of art.  Streaks of orange
on the rough, cold, hard, surface.
Yet, it's so simple.
A rock, yes a rock,
sharp and strong.

The peace
The shade
The light
The buzz
The excitement
The green
The path
The bridge
The simplicity
The smallness
The nature
The mountains.

It is as peaceful as the cabin up here.
The shade surrounds me
comforts me, protects me
from the sun.  I see the light,
the heat, in front of me.
The buzz of the city just below.
I'm here, it's there.
I'm excited, ready and quiet.
The green surrounds the description.
I step onto the path where the
blinding light awaits.
I hike past the bridge, through the simplicity,
the smallness of nature.
Through the mountains of Montana.

Things To Save
by Estrella

Save the delicate
purple flowers, innocently
swaying in the wind.

Save the red dots
of color, striking against
the majestic green leaves.

Save the leaves, not
one the same as another.

Save the brown grass,
dying before our eyes.

Save the strong,
sturdy rocks, lining the
path that leads to
infinity.

Save the flimsy branch,
the one that has lost hope.

Save the whole
mountain, for the
beauty is not complete
without every piece of
the puzzle.

Save the City
By Estrella

Save the backdrop,
the mountains that
look like they are
dipped in white hope.

Save the gorgeous buildings,
each one unique,
with stories bursting to come out.

Save the many trees,
for how do we live
without them, their beauty,
their life?

Save the river,
flowing, washing
away hopes and
dreams, delivering the,
to someone who needs that
hope, those dreams.

Save the roads,
how do we get
somewhere without
them?

Save the beauty, the love,
the passion, the
life.


Mother Earth
By Wren

Mother earth is what
brings us together
but she's dying
everything has to die
but why does she have to
die so soon?
What are your plans before
you start dying out?
Help before the sunrise
sets on your very
last day.
Why?
What?
Why?

What I Would Save
By Mari

Something just
touched my ear.
I hope it's not a spider
those I would not save.
No.

It was a beautiful butterfly
that I would save.
Wings
that look soft as silk,
this is an army butterfly
it blends in,
not trying to stand out
from the crowd.
Content, it forgets to fly away.
Truly it is a work of art.
And these wings?
Well, they look as soft as silk.

The chamomile that
grows at my feet,
that smells of a fruit
of my life.
Pineapple.
This I would save.
I hear birds
singing, call me.
I would save them too.
I look out at the city I
call my home.
This I will save.

Freedom
by Miko

Hot, drenched in sweat,
but all worth it
for the breathtaking view.
The head rolls off me like pillars,
the sounds of cars and trucks honk,
loud but then drifts away
when I become familiar
with a flower.
Delicate and bright like the sun,
all my focus on this neon flower.
It makes me feel like nothing else matters in the world.
I feel free.
This is why I am writing this poem.
So you can have and enjoy the same sensation.
Freedom. 

Save
by Eliana

The bridges, the trucks, the smoky air.
The buildings, the trains, the roads.
The airplanes, the towers, the murky water.
The slowly push away the natural beauty.
Slow push away everything.

A rugged rocky trail, stretching on forever.
Dry, bland like the rain has left.
Bright, yet subtle colors, so sincere
you can almost see their face.
Dark, shining rock the color of beauty
where the smallest things shine.
Soft, delicate, harmless,
hidden beauty.
The stomped out effort of nature
howls as he is forgotten.

What to Save
by Antigone

Probably the trees.
Yes,
the trees.
No,
not a specific one.
I would save them all.
When you enter a city,
and all you see is
skyscrapers, chaos
tall buildings closing in on all sides.
Something is missing,
that sense of freedom,
of nature is missing.
So if you asked me again
what I would save,
I would say
probably the trees.
Yes,
the trees.
No,
not a specific one.
I would save them all.

 We made our way to Greenough.  After sharing words, reflecting and some more quick writes involving cupcakes and birthdays, we moved down by the creek.  The topic this time, water.  Water in this moment, water memories, water associations.  And they are all gorgeous.

Doubt
by Antigone

It won't tip
she assures me.
But as I glance over the
edge of the kayak
doubt fills me.
The water,
seemingly so calm
so peaceful,
has another,
darker side.

It will trick you,
fool you,
lie to you,
pretend to
be your friend,
but in the end,
it will always
leave you
wet
and
regretful.
It won't tip
she assures me
but as I glance over the
edge of the kayak,
doubt fills me.
How can we be sure?
This calm,
cool puddles
that nobody owns,
much less controls
has a mind of its own.
It will trick you,
fool you,
pretend to be your friend,
but in the end
it will always leave you
wet
and
regretful.
It won't tip
she assures me
but as I glance over the
edge of the  kayak,
doubt fills me.

Surprise
by Mari

We were looking for
little round balls.

I found one!

Splash, splash,
patter, patter.

In my head run two different views:

1.  Uh, I hope we don't see a bear.
2.  This is so fun!

I turn to look
for the deer
I just heard
but no

I see
something
massive and heavy
scrambling up a tree!

Estrella, don't panic
there is a bear.
Let's go.

Mysterious
by Estrella

Mysterious.

White water crashes
on my bare toes,
numbs them.

Water is full of

surprises, twists and
turns, I don't know what
to expect.

Water, water, water.
Mysterious.

Water Is

Frothing.  Loud.  Roaring.
Fast. Rushing.

Dangerous.

Little flowers dance around the river.

Love.  Joy.  Passion.  Power.
This is what water
is.

Water:  The Dream
by Estrella

No one to stop me,
I rush out.
The water sweeps me up and
carries me away,
far away.
The cool water brushes
my fingertips.
I go lifeless.
Water is secretive.
Hiding me under
the currents.
My muffled scream is masked
by the roaring water.
I can't believe that was
just a dream.

The Hit
by Gabriella

Rushing, choppy, wavy water.
Bang!  He hit!
Crying, hurting, swearing.
No longer will it ever
be the same again.

Skinny Dipping
by Gabriella

Nighttime.
The clear, glassy water sits beneath us.
1, 2, 3!
We drop the towels and run in,
the water rippling and splashing as
shrieks run through the valley.
The cool evening water feels good on our skin,
not even believing that we're doing this.
More shrieks as fireworks explode behind us,
more splashing and frantic movements
as everyone feels a bit uncomfortable.
We start to relax and do more daring things.
We run to the beach,
throw on our towels.
We turn away from our fun,
skinny dipping evening.
Now it is peaceful again.
Nighttime.
The clear glassy water.
Once again.

When The Boat Flipped
by Eliana

We planned a fight, with water,
but rain like curtains
began to pour from
the heavens and lighting
like a square, shoots down to strike.
Thunder like a giant roar
shakes our earth,
so we decided no.
She points out the dead beauty and
we stare.
The wind pushes with all its force
and the heavy metal is overthrown.
It flies more than we thought possible
and flips.
On us.
We scream, but
our cries for help are lost
in the raging water.
Sand, water, hurt, unawareness,
discombobulation.
But she notices, screams
for help.
They run and it flips again,
but with the force of arms.
They carry, our small, limp
bodies up.
Fear.

The Turn
by Eliana

The river was choppy,
but not that bad,
it was more the turn than
the water.
The hit, the rip, the sweat, the cry.
The cry of agony and fear.
The picture formed,
only a second too late.
The swearing and harsh words.
The trauma.
The tears.
The fear.
The pain.
Why?

Water
by Miko

Letting my fingers skim the water
sends pulses of energy through my body.
Then, letting my feet sink
like an anchor
to the bottom of the sued to be cold, now warm,
clear as my mind water.
I put my hand in the water again.
Making complicated but simple patterns
in the water the waves crashing
in the water
making a fun melody
but the waves don't give up.
They try and try then -
tink!
A rock hits a rock
a very joyful tune!
Water and all of its pleasures.
I want to come back everyday
to discover something new.

Cold, Dark, Stop
by Wren

I'm next to the
pond in Greenough Park.
I put my feet in the water
lapping at my toes, saying
Come in!  Come in!
I throw a plain purple rock.
Plop!  Plop!
I go in a little farther.
I feel the rocks move under my feet.
I throw another.
Plop!
I get splashed again.
That's why I like water.
It brings the world to a
cold, dark stop.
Splash!