Showing posts with label house. Show all posts
Showing posts with label house. Show all posts

Friday, April 18, 2008

Poetry for Laundry Day

On this date in 1934, the first Laundromat, called a “washeteria” was opened in Fort Worth, TX. Right in my own backyard, so to speak. [Thanks, Lee BH, for that tidbit from Days to Celebrate: A Full Year of Poetry, People, Holidays, History, Fascinating Facts, and More (New York: Greenwillow, 2005).]

How about some poetry about laundry?

Sock Eater
by Betsy Rosenthal


On laundry days

my mother says

the dryer is a crook.


It’s all because

a sock is gone—

the one the dryer took.


I tell my mom she shouldn’t

let the dryer

see us eat.


It’s sure to munch a sock or two

because it craves a treat.

From: Rosenthal, Betsy R. 2004. My House is Singing. Illus. by Margaret Chodos-Irvine. San Diego: Harcourt.

I’ve written about this anthology before and cited “My House’s Night Song” as my tribute poem when I moved into my new home last December. I continue to find more gems as I pore over this collection. And if you need more laundry poetry, look for:

Janeczko, Paul B., comp. 2001. Dirty Laundry Pile: Poems in Different Voices. illus. Melissa Sweet. New York: HarperCollins. (however not ALL the poems are about laundry!)

As we say in Texas—who’da thunk it? Poetry about laundry?!

Picture credit: www.jupiterimages.com

Friday, December 14, 2007

Moving poetry

My apologies for disappearing! I’ve been going through a major life change: MOVING. In the space of a few weeks, we sold our home (in Grand Prairie, TX where we had lived for 18 years raising two kids) and moved into the big city (of Dallas, where we’re 10 minutes from my favorite theaters, movies, museums, and restaurants!). Each Friday has brought a new crisis: first no electricity for two days, then no Internet for four days! EEK! Things are headed toward normalcy now and it’s time to get back on track with poetry. I’ve actually been reading a lot of poetry during this time as part of the Cybils award (I’m on the poetry subcommittee; stay tuned for news); it’s the perfect antidote.

As I looked for a poem to fit my current circumstance, I remembered a lovely picture book collection that came out a few years ago: My House is Singing by Betsy Rosenthal, illustrated by Margaret Chodos-Irvine. Each poem captures an aspect of the “places and spaces that make a house a home” against a backdrop of Chodos-Irvine’s colorful, sculptural collages. Using a variety of poetic forms, including rhyming and free verse forms, Rosenthal touches on details that children notice in the laundry room, the smoke detector, the refrigerator, the vacuum cleaner, the kitchen, special cubby-holes, the doorbell, the back door, and more. The following poem example gives the book it’s title and captures some of my own thoughts my first night in my new home:

My House’s Night Song
By Betsy Rosenthal

Listen closely.
Can you hear?

Heater whooshing out
warm air.

Blinds flapping
Floors creaking.

Clocks ticking.
Faucet leaking.

Dishwasher clicking.
Pipes pinging.

Listen closely.
My house is singing.

From: Rosenthal, Betsy. R. 2004. My House is Singing. Illustrated by Margaret Chodos-Irvine. San Diego: Harcourt.

It’s time for me to re-join the Poetry Friday Round Up-- which is hosted this week by Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect.

Picture: My new house