Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Poem for the Fourth of July




Screaming Fire


Streams of color light the night,
Exploding across the dark dome
of heaven,
Red, yellow, blue and white
Against the black veil they flash.
Their colors light up the night.

Sulfur, charcoal, nitrate; elements
of earth
Stream fire up, up
As if to reach the heavens
Then dissolve into darkness,
Leaving one last color: black.


--Chandler Hamby (Grade 9)


Related: Ed Pacht's Reflection on Screaming Fire



Sunday, June 19, 2011

Contrasting Realities



Two Real Worlds

dark and gloomy grins arise
fire burns the innocents alive
smoke and death, unbearable smell
this is the world, a second hell

bright and praise-filled voices sing
water for parched tongues He'll bring
the fragrance of life our hearts to leaven
this is the world, a second heaven

--Jordan Romain (Grade 10)

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

A Great Book for Summer Reading!

Reviewed by Clare Cannon

I, Juan de Pareja
by Elizabeth De Trevino
written for ages 9-12
highly recommended
published in 2008 (1965) Square Fish,192 pages


Juan is born into slavery in Seville, Spain in the early 1600s, and after the death of his mother, when he is just five years old, he becomes the pageboy of a wealthy Spanish lady, Emilia. Upon her death, during one of many plagues to sweep through Spain, Juan is inherited by Emilia's nephew, the painter Diego Velazquez.

Juan is an honourable and loyal slave who grows to deeply love his master. He works for him as a canvas-stretcher and paint grinder and becomes his good companion. However, his passion for painting - something which was illegal for slaves in Spain - leads him to deceive his master, and he secretly steals paints and makes his own artistic studies in his room. Juan accompanies Velazquez and his family when King Philip IV of Spain requests they move into his court, and assists the painter in his many portraits of the King and his family. He also accompanies Velazquez to Rome for a portrait of Pope Innocent X, and the portraits of many other Italian noblemen. Juan eventually takes the advice of a young apprentie, Murillo, to find a suitable time to tell his master of his secret. The opportunity comes when the King discovers one of Juan's paintings. Juan confesses to both King and master, and Velazquez generously grants him his freedom, feeling remorse that he had not done so before.

The story is based on known facts of the life of Velazquez and his freed slave, Juan de Pareja. It is imbued with a rich Christian ethic and care for people that the author perceives in Velazquez's artwork. It also explores the painting style and attitude of master Velazquez, his focus on portraying the beauty of realism rather than creating an embellished and beautified reality. Slavery is presented as an injustice which the author presumes her readers understand, but without bitterness, since her characters are able to rise above it. Overall, the book is well written, full of interesting information and is a moving story of friendship and generosity.

The New York Times Book Review says it all for me: “This brilliant historical novel captures and holds the attention from its rhythmic opening sentence - ”I, Juan de Pareja, was born into slavery“ - all the way through to the end. A splendid book, vivid, unforgettable.”


Clare Cannon lives in Sydney, Australia where she is the manager of Portico Books. This review first appeared at MercatorNet.



Friday, June 10, 2011

Another Dialog Poem




The Milliner's Daughter



"I love your hat, Miss Lamentaine."

     "Why thank you kindly, little Jane."

"It's made of silk, that sweet pink bow?"

     "Indeed it is. How did you know?"

"My Mama is the milliner; she uses such fine wares.

She makes each hat with tasteful eye, and always utmost care."

     "How clever she must be, my dear, to make such lovely hats!"

"Clever indeed is she, and still more clever than that."



--Miriam Parrish

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

And the Winners Are...


There were 5 entries this year and all were good, but only 2 were chosen as winners. They present very different images and are well crafted.

And the winning poems are Miriam Parrish's Topaz's Misadventure and Ed Pacht's Lament for the Hills.



Topaz’s Misadventure

The unblemished day is young;
The verdant hills are calling.
Topaz paces the plush new grass,
Tense, alert, tongue lolling.

She longs to leave the yard and go
Where grand adventures hang
(A joyride or a cat pursuit)
To earn a fearsome name.

She leaps over the gate and runs
Past streets and alleyways,
Even through dew-studded spiders' nets;
She will not be delayed.

She trots into the local zoo
Exploring here and there until
She comes across a tawny beast,
Sitting statue still.

He has a slanted, mint-green gaze;
A mane of golden wealth.
His tasseled tail flips listlessly;
His paws suggest his stealth.

She barks, and rage consumes the beast.
Reaching, he rants and roars
With pride and fearsome fame!
Pup flees to safety's tempting shores.

Exhausted, frightened, and contrite;
Thirst for adventure quite spent,
She gladly returns to paradise:
Life without embellishment.


--Miriam Parrish





Lament for the Hills


Reaching for the verdant hills,

he loudly roars in deep frustration,

that the onward march of progress,

the embellishment of daily life

by things that no one really needs,

and the constant urge to take a joyride

through the once unblemished countryside,

so quickly touches and consumes all that it sees.

He looks with love upon the slanted slopes,

studded with the flowers that glow like topaz,

plush with verdure green and cool as mint,

and watches as a bighorn ram leaps upon the rocks above.

Yet there are those who would destroy this grandeur,

not contrite for all the wreckage they may cause,

seeing nothing but the bottom line of what they net,

the other green on which their thoughts all hang,

and thus it is, in reaching for those verdant hills,

he loudly roars and cries his tears of deep frustration.

 
--ed pacht
 
 
Ed's comment is worth publishing also.  He describes how the random words suggest images so that a poem forms like the swirling force of a tornado. He wrote: "I'm always amazed how it works that, if I take one or two of the words in the list, a theme emerges and sucks the rest of the words into its vortex.  The first two lines, including three of your words certainly set the pace for this one.  I had no idea where it might be going, but it unfolded amazingly quickly.  I didn't expect a piece of environmental commentary, but that's what came out, and the lines are longer than I usually do, but here it is."
 
Congratulations to Ed and Miriam! And thanks to the other poets who participated.
 
Watch for another Random Word Poetry Contest in October.
 
 
 
 

Monday, June 6, 2011

Dog Poem by Miriam Parrish


A Spot of Sunlight, Please


Lend me a patch of sunlight, please,
Oh, lend me a patch of gold.
Lend me a spot
Where the sunlight’s hot,
When times and days grow cold.


Oh, keep it there when the sun hangs up
In the middle of sky
Save me a spot
Where the sunlight’s hot,
And the rest of my life passes by.


Leave it there, for a poor old dog,
For a friend whose youth is passed,
Show him a spot
Where the sunlight’s hot,
And a bit of warmth will last.


And down will I lay;
Nor will I bark or bay.
“Till the life in my bones is passed;
Yes, the life in my bones is passed.”


--Miriam Parrish


Related reading:  Topaz


Friday, June 3, 2011

A Poem About Horses



Two Old Stallions

Forward spring the horses
Eager, reaching strides
Ears alert and muscles ready;
Wildly rolling eyes.

The bay, with coat of flaming red,
Extends across the track.
His tail behind cascading down
And flickering mane coal black.

The second -- stormy gray in color,
An ivory tail he sports --
Engages the bay with pounding hooves
And fierce, emphatic snorts.

Neck and neck, with no surrender,
Their stout hearts set on triumph.
Hearing no sound save beating hooves
They gallop yet, defiant.

The gray gains inches, laboring,
His dark eyes glint; heart drumming.
But the bay will not capitulate
He toils on, still running.

Stallions snorting fire,
Fence posts blinking by.
The gray is surging past the bay
His long legs, flashing, fly.

He drives beyond the straining bay
The latter grunts, annoyed.
The former claims his victory
And throws a buck of joy.

The stallion stops and turns around
He nickers to the bay.
Two old friends, both retired
Reliving glory days.


-- Miriam Parrish
      (Grade 8)



Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Topaz the Hunter

Here is another poem by the talented young poet, Miriam Parrish.  The first of Miriam's poems to appear at STUDENTS PUBLISH HERE! was co-authored with Madeline Smith and titled "The Petty Slight."


Hopeless Hunt

“Topaz, my pup, small and slim,
What is it you want to win?”

“I am swift, lithe, bold, and smart
I’ll catch a squirrel: I know the art.”

“Squirrels above use twig and bough.
But you cannot, and even now
The squirrels bound overhead quite free!
Alas, you simply will not see!"

“Just watch! Such little faith have you.
I’ll catch a squirrel and slay it, too.”


--Miriam Parrish