Friday, February 9, 2018



New Writer Honor
Elaine Magliaro
"A poetic take on the world and the important things in it, from the sun and moon to a pink eraser, as experienced through a child's eyes and imagination."


I have been dying to share the news that I won a 2018 Ezra jack Keats New Writer Honor Award for my book THINGS TO DO. I never EVER thought I'd be the recipient of such a prestigious award for my first book.
Today, I'm sharing a poem from THINGS TO DO--one that was not included in the original manuscript that was sent to my editor Melissa Manlove at Chronicle Books.
Things to Do If You Are Boots
Splish in puddles.
Splash on the walk.
Make the fallen
raindrops talk.


Sally Murphy has the Poetry Friday Roundup this week.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Szymborska: Some People Like Poetry

Here is one of my favorite poems written by my favorite author of adult poetry:

By Wislawa Szymborska
—Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh.

Some people—
that means not everyone.
Not even most of them, only a few.
Not counting school, where you have to,
and poets themselves,
you might end up with something like two per thousand.
but then, you can like chicken noodle soup,
or compliments, or the color blue,
your old scarf,
your own way,
petting the dog.

Click here to read the rest of the poem.

Wislawa Szymborska won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1996. I found an interesting New York Times article about her poem Some People Like Poetry when two different translations of it were published in The New Yorker and The New Republic back in 1996. The Times posted both translations of the poem's final stanza. I prefer the version that was translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh. It's the version I've read many times in her book Poems New and Collected 1957-1977.

Click here to read the New York Times article.

Jan has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Book Seed Studio.

Friday, January 5, 2018

Remembering My Mother with Poetry and Pictures

Mary Stella Kozicka Drabik

One year ago today, my beloved mother passed away. It seems like only yesterday that I said goodbye to her. She was loved by everyone who knew her. My mother was a selfless individual who was devoted to her family. I miss her more than words can say.

by Lola Ridge

Your love was like moonlight
turning harsh things to beauty,
so that little wry souls
reflecting each other obliquely
as in cracked mirrors . . .
beheld in your luminous spirit
their own reflection,
transfigured as in a shining stream,
and loved you for what they are not.

Click here to read the rest of the poem.

by David Young

      —for my children

I see her doing something simple, paying bills,
or leafing through a magazine or book,
and wish that I could say, and she could hear,

that now I start to understand her love
for all of us, the fullness of it...

Click here to read the end of the poem.

Remembering my mother with some family photos:
My mother's last Mother's Day (2016)
Here she is with my older granddaughter Julia.
A Beautiful Bride!
 My mother with my older sister

 My mother with her parents and her two younger brothers
My mother's family
 My mother, father, sister, and I
 My mother with my sister and me

My mother being silly with her cousin Julia and sister Helen
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Reading to the Core.