I’m traveling and will be out of pocket all day tomorrow, so this post’ll have to serve as Travellin’ Thursday, Poetry Friday and maybe even Sleep-in Saturday all in one.
I drove down to Corpus Christi this afternoon for the 8th Annual Children’s Book Festival. I was so tired that I had to do that old trick where you dampen your eyelids and roll down the windows ’til the breeze shocks you into opening your eyes wide. The palm trees and salt air woke me up upon arrival.
At the signing this afternoon I sat between author Lupe Ruiz-Flores and author-illustrator David Biedrzycki and we signed books for lots of little 7-year-olds who wanted their pictures taken with authors. A very sweet thing.
Tomorrow I will be doing ten short sessions for preschoolers.
That is not a typo. Ten.
If you don’t hear from me by next week, send help. Or a wheelbarrow. Or somethin’.
So while I’m doing that, ya’ll will be wallowing in Poetry Friday.
And I’ve got something really fabulous to add to that.
From Lola Haskins. Here goes…
Sleep Positions
This is how we sleep:
On our backs, with pillows covering our chests, heavy as dirt
On our sides, like wistful spoons
Clenched, knees in-tucked, arms folded
Wide, like sprawling-rooted lotuses
(Read the rest here…)
Peaceful, poetic weekend to you all, my friends…
cloudscome
Liz I am in awe of you! You are one amazing poet princess woman. I can’t wait to hear all about this!
I love those sleep descriptions. I like the next poem on that site even better – “Grass” also by Lola Haskins. Hope you get lots of sleep and poetry this weekend.
Re: cloudscome
Yes, Grass is LOVELY.
I think I love Lola Haskins…
Oh that I could go back to bed and get a few more hours of poetry in!
Mary Lee
A Year of Reading
Word, Mary Lee. Word.
TadMack says: 🙂
MAN, that was beautiful. I love that our dreams are our poetry, and no matter what pedestrian lives we lead, we are all poets of a sort. What a gorgeous sentiment…
…and what a horrifying thought: TEN SESSIONS!? How, m’girl, did you get roped into that?! May you have LIMITLESS energy.
Re: TadMack says: 🙂
Oh, TadMack. I did not ask exactly what my commitment entailed and — lo and behold — ten sessions it is. Stamina, energy, character-building…
Ten? TEN???!!!
And I was trying to warm up to the fact I have to do 13 presentations (a mix of big kid ones, little kid ones, and a grown up one) in 3 days next week.
13 over 3 days sounds pretty intense, too! Especially the one for — gasp! — grown ups!!!
Karen Edmisten said:
Oh, I love that, too. I need to go lie down.
Re: Karen Edmisten said:
Sleep tight…
Yay for poetic dreams! Ten sessions?
I know. Jama. WHAT was I thinking???
You’ll be wanting all those sleep positions after so many toddlers.
I’m back in human form today, Kelly. Finally.
This is why don’t nobody take my nap away from me. I know I’m all grown up and all, but sleep is my cure-all for everything. Loved this poem! And I can’t believe there’s a whole blog of poems about poetry, and it’s UPDATED every day. Whoah! I’m subscribing…
Let the little ones do all the work at your sessions, Liz—you know they have the energy. 😉
I’m a nap gal, myself, Sara. Although it’s not a good idea to undertake one while driving…
From a. fortis
I love it! I could read this one again and again. The funny thing is, it reminded me of a song by the band Cake, with some great lines like “When you sleep, where do your fingers go?/Do they tremble on the edge of the bed or do you fold them neatly by your head?”
Good luck with your presentations! 🙂
Re: From a. fortis
Ooooh! I know that song. And I love it! Yes — fine comparison.
From Mme T
like wistful spoons
wide, like sprawling-rooted lotuses
Darn, I wish I had thought of a lines like that! Makes me feel teeny tiny small in the face of great poetry.
Re: From Mme T
I know. Wistful spoons. That kills me.
That is such a great poem. I’m so fascinated by sleep, though I’m sure that sounds weird. Where our minds go when we do it, how it’s the only time in our days we’re not painfully self-aware, how we don’t get enough of it 🙂
Have safe travels!
Jules, 7-Imp
I hear you, Jules. I’m particularly fascinated by sleep because it’s not something I do well. Sigh…
And, I’m sorry, but how great is “you who
think poetry was school”?
jules
Pretty freakin’ great.
Wow, this is an amazing poem. I especially love:
This is how our dreams arrive:
As hot yellow taxicabs
As sudden blazing steam, we who have been pots on a stove,
looking only at our own lids
As uninvited insects, all at once on our tongues.
I felt every line of it. Thank you for introducing me to it!