2016 Found Object Poem Project: Day 11 - Poetry Friday

It’s Day 11 of our month-long daily writing project.This year’s theme is FOUND OBJECTS. For those of you who are new to the project, please read my introductory post. You’ll find more information and all of the Week 2 FOUND OBJECTS at this post. We're also celebrating Poetry Friday. This week's host is Kimberly Moran at Written Reflections. If you're enjoying the poetry community we're creating with this project, I know you'll have fun getting to know the Poetry Friday blogging community as well.FOUND: Walnut DollThis week, we've been talking about some of the categories our FOUND OBJECT prompts fall into. There were many contributions (a few of them my own) of toys. These weren't ordinary playthings, though. The found objects were toys in odd settings, like the window full of antique dolls we wrote about on Day 6.Linda Baie of the blog Teacher Dance contributed this interesting little plaything. There will be a few more toys to come in the weeks ahead, but this is the last doll we'll see. She's an unusual object -- I'm glad to be able to write without any information about her. She's going to raise quite a few questions in today's poems.Linda Baie is first up today with an acrostic poem about our little lady.What I HadF ound– faded flowerdy cloth from Mama’s scraps,O verlays a piney piece of wood in Papa’s workshop.U nder the backyard shade tree, the walnut–N ear perfect color of my face.D oll delight, looks like me.Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved***

Carol Varsalona, who is blogging alongside our project at Beyond LiteracyLink, wrote: "As a lover of antiques and history, I was drawn to this prairie doll that brought back memories of Little House on the Prairie books and the television show." I hope you'll stop by  Carol's blog today. Her post includes a wonderful list for the classroom entitled, "Broadening Elementary Students' Awareness of Prairie Life."I was born,just an ordinary dollof plain homespun fabricstitched by Ma's loving hands.As odd as this seems,I was given a walnutfor my head.Just an ordinary doll,I am.They tell me that my familyweathered many a stormas their wagon wheelsslowly moved westto Walnut Grove.Here on the prairie,I was lovedas the ordinary dollthat I am.Living in a soddieunder a sun thatbeat and blisteredwas a way of lifein summer,while winter snowdrove us indoorsto wait out theblizzards andcold winds.My days withmy little ownerwere full ofsimple prairie lifeand prickled byinconstant weather.The ordinarinessof pioneer dayswere filled withspecial moments,family ties,and homespun charm.Time has turned over.Centuries have passed on.My descendantsgrace museums andI sit on a shelfreminding all ofordinary timesand ordinary dollsloved by ordinary families.©CVarsalona, 2016***

Jessica Bigi wrote in to say, "This doll made me think of a craft you would find at a county fair." This should be a concrete poem, everyone, but I'm having trouble capturing its shape with Wordpress. Please excuse the technical difficulties!Summers Fairby Jessica BigiI imagine                walnut dollsLemon tarts           Pecan piesRed ribbon             Ferris wheelsWinnersCounty FairsLemonade skies

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I had a difficult time finding an "in" with the object -- the thread that would lead me to a poem. So I tried one of the exercises I use with students when we are working with an image. First, we list all of the "facts" of the picture, the things we can see with our eyes. Then, we make a second list. This time, we write down all of things we imagine about the image. What's the story? What is the person or people in the picture doing and thinking?Churning SongBy Laura ShovanA bonnet covers her white cotton hair.Her face is wrinkled and round as a nut.I call my scrap doll Grandmother Daisyfor the meadow flowers dotting her dress.She wears a white apron with squares of bluesame as the apron I wear to do chores.Grandmother Daisy's bag is filled with songs.She sits with me as I churn the butter.Together, we sing her songs, pass the time.***"I let my kid-self out today," says Violet Nesdoly. I think we have to make space for play during a project like this, to keep the daily writing from feeling like a chore.On a Visit to Red Riding HoodThis is a memoryof Grandmother dear,who outsmarted the wolfwhen he came by herewith the gunny and muslinshe stuffed in her bedand the pumpkin she usedto mimic her head.It’s here on the shelfand reminds me each daybetter activate witsthan be someone’s buffet.– Violet Nesdoly***Diane Mayr has a talent for combining images and poems. With another birthday coming up next week, this contribution spoke to me.Le Secret d'un Visage NaturelBy Diane MayrWalk outthe back door,scan the ground,find a whole newface to put on forthe day. Tomorrowyou can switchit out again.Who need bethe wiser?***The doll brought up an old memory for Donna Smith. "This struck me as such a stark contrast to a pink, delicate ballerina doll I once had… that my brother broke… not that I’d remember that after over 50 years…"The DollsPrima Donna ballerinaCould bend and point her toes;Her arms were curved so gracefully –No walnut tip for nose;She wore a satin tutuAnd on her feet toe shoes;She smelled of sweet vanilla –Not of smoke and bread and stews.I loved my doll until it brokeAnd then threw it away.What good is a dancing dollIf it can’t tour jeté?My grandma’s doll, so precious,Has stood the test of time;She never went to dancesBut with Grandma she would climbThe big old tree beside the houseTo make up wondrous tales,And then go wading in the streamTo look for baby whales.My grandma’s doll upon my shelfStill dresses in humble style;And looking down at me from thereI think she’s cracked a smile.©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved***Remember when we wrote about the antique shop dolls on Day 6? Writers were split between those who found the playthings dark and creepy, and those who felt nostalgic about dolls from their past. I see a similar pattern happening with today's found object.Mary Lee Hahn says she not sure where this poem came from. I see a definite ripple between this poem and Diane Mayr's contribution. Mary Lee is blogging alongside us here.She struggledto keep her face blank,unreadable.The newsmade her shoulders tense,took her breath,blinded her.An unimaginable futurestretched ahead.©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015***Matt Forrest Esenwine is back with us today!The Old Woman in the YardWe’d walked this way for years.Each time, we’d see her therein burlap dress and bonnet,hands clenched, as if in prayer.Her back was always turned,head bowed in silent thought;we wondered (rather, worried)should we bother her, or not?So every time we passed,we never said a word,we never slowed our pace;the woman never stirred.And then one day we came uponan empty, hollow space…we never knew her name.We never saw her face.© 2016, Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved***Margaret Simon's poem reminds me of Raggedy Ann, with the heart sewn inside her body.How to be a Walnut DollBy Margaret SimonWear your walnut with prideFlaunt feathery fabricBe flexibleMake time stand stillLove is your sacrificeFeel the beat of a young heart.***Catherine Flynn is blogging alongside us today. Like many of us, today's object evoked a place and time for Catherine. You can find her full post here: https://readingtothecore.wordpress.com/2016/02/12/poetry-friday-found-object-poetry/Bouncing along this rutted trailtoward a great unknown,I clutch my dolly, Susan,keeping her corncob body close.Ma saved one cobfrom last summer’s harvestto make this dolly, just for meafter I helped her huskthe bushels of cornPa hauled from the field.Corn for us to eat,corn to grind into meal,corn to feed our brown swiss, Bess,so she’d share her sweet, creamy milk.Ma sewed a little dress from scraps of calicosoft as a cloud,blue as the summer sky,sprigged with pink and white daisieslike those in our yard.Fashioned a tiny muslin bonnet,just like mine,it’s wide pleated brim shielding our facesfrom the blazing sunas it leads us westward,toward our new home.© Catherine Flynn, 2016***Isn't it lovely that Jone MacCulloch gave our doll a name in her poem?grandmother’s dollhidden in the atticClarabelle,her nameher clothinggrandmother’s worn outclothesscraps recycledher heada walnutfrom the backyardalways headedto the marketwith an emptysatchelgrandmother’s dollhidden in the atticClarabelle,her name© 2016 Jone Rush MacCulloch all rights reserved***There's wonderful sensory imagery in Charles Water's offering today.DOLLYBy Charles WatersThis walnut body of minegets hugged every night by Laura,my heart beating, apple cheekedforever friend.  She fiddles with myflowered dress, stitched up tan apron,tattered handbag, homemade bonnet.“I love you Dolly,” she says every nighbefore bed as shades of moon slicethrough her alabaster curtains.If only I had the heart to tell her,“The feeling is mutual.”***If I missed your poem today, I apologize for the oversight. Please leave me a note in the comments and I will add your response ASAP. See you tomorrow for Day 12.Interested in what we’ve written so far? Here are links to this week’s poems:Sunday, February 7FOUND OBJECT: Blood Letting KnifePoems by: Diane Mayr, Jessica Bigi, Laura Shovan, Catherine Flynn, Linda Baie, Molly Hogan, Carol Varsalona, Mary Lee Hahn, Matt Forrest Esenwine.Note: You will find links to all of  the Week 1 poems at this post.Monday, February 8FOUND OBJECT: SCULPTURE IN THE WOODSPoems by: Laura Shovan, Jessica Bigi, Heidi Mordhorst, Carol Varsalona, Linda Baie, Margaret Simon, Donna Smith, Diane Mayr, Joanne R. Polner, Kay McGriff, Molly Hogan, Mary Lee Hahn, Catherine Flynn, Jone Rush MacCulloch.Tuesday, February 9FOUND OBJECT: TIRE TRACKS IN SNOWPoems by: Molly Hogan, Jessica Bigi, Linda Baie, Violet Nesdoly, Carol Varsalona, Mary Lee Hahn, Donna Smith, Laura Shovan, Diane Mayr, Jone Rush MacCulloch, Catherine Flynn, Kay McGriff, Charles Waters.Wednesday, February 10 at Reflections on the TecheFOUND OBJECT: LOTUS PODSPoems by: Diane Mayr, Patricia VanAmburg, Jessica Bigi, Molly Hogan, Laura Shovan, Linda Baie, Carol Varsalona, Violet Nesdoly, Heidi Mordhorst, Donna Smith, Mary Lee Hahn, Margaret Simon, Charles Waters, Buffy Silverman, Catherine Flynn.