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With apologies to Peter Reynolds, here is a first week of school poem. English German
beamish teamish

begin again
hot and sticky meish
becomes a ragged weish

tearish clingish screamish
ac busted steamish
oops a trigger:
nothing ish
about this fit!
this afternoon feels
I love you please go home

ac fixed relaxish
cryish calmish
routine is a balmish
hey an anchor:
about this song!
listen to us sing

Posted by Heidi Mordhorst at 07:21 10 comments: Links to this post 
first day feast 

So here's a Begin Anew poem.

First Day Feast

HM 2013 Labels: my own work, Poetry Friday, school


whole group lesson I've had occasion this week to think about the characteristics of extroverts and introverts.(Sometimes it's spelled extrAversion, sometimes extrOversion.)  In my own words, extroverts draw energy from being with other people; being alone tends to drain them and leave them feeling a little limp and empty.  Introverts, however, charge up their inner batteries during alone-time; interacting with the group is what tends to wear them out.

Being mainly an extrovert myself, for a long time I was confused and believed that "introverted" meant "shy;"  I know now that introverts can be confident and outgoing, but that doing so is hard work and requires recharge time.  I've also learned that if I don't get sufficient time alone to recharge, it's hard for me.  The children in our classrooms also have these characteristics.  I hope I respect them.

Alone in the Crowd

I have a seat
I have a spot
I have a place in line between my buddies.

But what I wish
that I could do
when it gets wild is hide inside my cubby.

revised draft
Posted by Heidi Mordhorst at 22:00 3 comments: Links to this post Labels: 5-year-olds, my own, OIK Tuesday, school
 I have the luxury of visiting my folks this weekend out near the beach in Delaware, by myself.  One of the pleasures of being here is getting on the fat purple cruiser with the bouncy seat and riding in circles around the nearby neighborhood called Warwick Park (which curiously is made of streets called Comanche, Apache, Sioux and Lenape).

I wouldn't ordinarily enjoy not going *somewhere*, but there's something light and pleasurable about just going aheadaheadahead without thinking too hard, just enjoying the different trees and porches and garden ornaments (!).  It made me think about "laps."


The laps I know are made of legs--
tight together flat and straight
or criss-cross cradle on the floor.

But when I run around and round
from room to room on rainy days
tagging chairs and knobs on doors,

they tell me I am "doing laps."
I guess my laps are made of legs--
but mine are moving much much more!


Posted by Heidi Mordhorst at 09:20 11 comments: Links to this post Labels: exercise, my own work, Poetry Friday, rhythm


[OIK] Tuesday: the best part of the day

I'm working on my vow to write for kids, little ones, for a while...I have no kindergarten voices to draw on right now, so I'll be the 5-year-old for now. (This chart is not from my classroom, but it's nice, right?) A Reason to Rejoice
Some of my friends are scared to choose-
all they can think of is what they'll lose.
But being the boss makes me rejoice:
My favorite time of day is Choice.
Posted by Heidi Mordhorst at 18:12 2 comments: Links to this post Labels: 5-year-olds, choice, my own work, OIK Tuesday


a roller coaster called kindergarten As I return to "real" life after a long and fantastic trip to the France and Italy of our extended family, I'm grateful to Mary Lee for wisely reminding me that control is my favorite illusion:

A Teacher Turns the Calendar Page From July to August

It's the same feeling you get
just after you've nudged the sled
over the shoulder
of the hill.
Movement becomes momentum
and quickly shifts
to catapulting and careening.

You relinquish control
and hold on
for the ride.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2013

I'm also grateful to my father for sending me this poem that he found in the pages of the always stimulating Christian Century magazine.  It reminds me that it's not about the weight of the papers and planning and posters and pencils; the joy in this ride comes from the small mammals strapped in next to you on the roller coaster.

If I become like you, I will write about a roughed grouse | Brian Doyle

If I become like you I will write about a roughed grouse,
Says the boy, five years old, with a face like a chipmunk
Storing up winter browse. We are at his school, where he
And the other small mammals have written things for me
On bright scraps of paper. He hands me his paper and I’ll
Carry it in my wallet the rest of my life. Mister Brian, the
Sun is raining all around, another child says to me. It is up
And down sun, she says. I want to be a cookie when I’m
Your age, says another child. Once we were all monkeys
In skirts made from the skins of trees, says a boy with an
Icicle tattoo. It’s templorary, he says, explaining it to me.
I laugh and he laughs and every kid there starts laughing.
I think I am going to fly up gently into the air over a tree
From joy, as saints used to float when gripped by ecstasy.
That happened to Saint Joseph Cupertino, you remember,
Seventy times, it is said, and now I know why: no gravity.

I hope to make this the last poem written for adults for a good while and challenge myself to do that thing I like best, which is write for kids.  I thank Margaret over at the round-up at Reflections on the Teche for reminding me what a supportive community this is; I think I'm going to need it.

For now, I will lower my expectations a bit.  The title is for the grown-ups, but the poem works for little ones.

On Rearranging the Classroom, Again

It really matters where you sit,
whichever way you look at it.
Choose the middle of the middle;
that way you see it all a little.

Heidi Mordhorst 2013

And here's a photo I came across that I just need to share... Posted by Heidi Mordhorst at 08:33 6 comments: Links to this post Labels: 5-year-olds, Poetry Friday

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