Our Host
Hello, folks. I toyed with the idea of just writing the word, no, when asked for a bio, but, you’ll happily note, I quickly dismissed that idea as being (though funny, perhaps) a bit off-putting and borderline rude. I just like the air of mystery that that single-word response would exude. So, the Cliff Notes™ version of Scott McCloskey: a high school English teacher (25 yrs.) and a college adjunct professor (19 yrs.) from Michigan.
Inspiration
In regards to choosing today’s prompt, here’s a little glimpse behind the curtains of my creative process. I was provided with a blank calendar (which was periodically being filled in by other poets) of days from which to choose. I claimed a day somewhere in the middle of the pack, this being the equivalent “move” that a student will do to choose a seat somewhere in the middle of your classroom — pre-COVID days, obvs — so he or she is neither in the front nor the back of class. There is safety in the middle. (Hey, I’m fairly new to this awesome community and still rather intimidated, so I panicked and randomly picked today, ok?). When that nervous-making hurdle was cleared, I decided to look up the day to see just what was so special about it. And, huh, it turns out that April 11th is National Pet Day, and I thought, cool, I can work with that, and then I kept reading, and it appears to also be National Submarine Day and National Barbershop Quartet Day and (get this) National Eight Track Tape Day. Wait, what?!
Process
This is the weird dissonance that I’d like you to explore today. How can we celebrate both a beloved furbaby and a submarine sandwich, not to mention the fact that Subway’s sandwich bread is not legally bread? (The good news is that you don’t have to worry about that because National Submarine Day is about the submersible ships that are typically armed with torpedoes. The bad news, of course, is now you have to share Sprinkle’s big day with Jules Verne’s Nautilus. And, side question, did you really name your dog after a condiment for ice cream?)
- Pick a day.
- Visit a calendar website to find out what holidays are on that day. (I used https://nationaltoday.com/ , but the choice is yours. I’m not the boss of you. Boss’s day, btw, is October 16th.)
- Write an Ode (or whatever form you prefer) in celebration of that “thing/person/activity.”
- Use vivid details and figurative language to describe it.
- Why is this important to you (or others)?
- Examples of various odes from the Poetry Foundation
- Or maybe write a poem about how strange (but also kinda cool) that National Talk Like Yoda Day and National Pizza Party Day can both coexist on May 21st. Or maybe you’d like to explore how, perhaps, disheartening it is that those days are also on the same day as National Endangered Species Day. Shouldn’t endangered species take precedence over pineapple pizzas? (My poem, you’ll see, is of this ilk, taking issue with the ease in which we “create” and market holidays.)
- You could even, if you didn’t find an “interesting” day, choose something that should have its own Big Day. That misshapen paperclip on your desk or that left sock which is getting pretty threadbare. Shouldn’t they deserve their own special days? Shouldn’t that broken pair of sunglasses (that for whatever reason is still in your junk drawer) get another “day in the sun.”
- Or choose none of these suggestions and write on something totally different. That would be fine, too. Or simply just read and enjoy the offerings of fellow poets. The choice, ultimately, is up to you!
Poem
Here is my poem which (at its heart, I think) is grappling with these ideas.
Violet
Hallmark™ has it
so easy.
Words on the page
slipping
tumbling
cascading
into a perfect
plastic
greeting.
It’s not that
easy
to drip words
like honey
onto a page,
to unfold
meaning,
to sift through
a laundry basket of
wrinkled,
worn-out
words,
not to
say
“Thanks!”
or
“Take Care!”
or
“Happy Grandparent’s Sister’s Sweetest Day!”
Sometimes
roses are not red
and
violets
are
violet.
Write Poetry with Penny Kittle April 12th @11:00am (CST)
Scott, Thank you so much for this prompt! I am co-opting the prompts presented here and sharing them with a small group of students who are (voluntarily! no grade!) writing poems throughout April. I thought you might enjoy seeing what they did with (my variation of) your prompt!
Again, many thanks for this cool idea! (NO PRESSURE, but feel free to comment on their poems if you’d like.)
https://abaprilpoetry.blogspot.com/2021/04/day-12-national-day.html?showComment=1618278584039#c4967638600653741557
Dear Scott, your poem brought me to life pertaining to the reality of nature and not a fairy tale.
Procrastination
one blink of an eye
something new pops up
I’ll do it tomorrow…
Take some time away, it’s not due until Friday
Sweet! ill do it tomorrow and be stressed free
I really should take some time out of my day to at least look at the directions
No way, that assignment will be a breeze, no need to over succeed
let’s wait and wait until the blasted day to write away…
oh NO, I missed the day when duty called. I let it stray away
Oh my I rue the day I said to wait another day
Don’t procrastinate I say, for it may be a day when procrastination is definitely not the way
DO IT TODAY!
April 16th is Wear Pajamas to Work Day, and I wanted to write a short poem about that considering I’ve been practically living every day in my pajamas since the pandemic started. I decided to try to write a 15 word sonnet to explore different forms.
Pajamas
and
sweatsuits
are
their
own
new
fashion
pieces.
Meetings
or
class,
they
are
acceptable.
Garin, I understand the kind of joy and freedom our pajamas and sweatpants provide while being locked inside. Even zoom meetings do not mean you have to be properly dressed. Venturing out of the house in my pajama pants would be a no no, but there quite popular anytime of the year in my town. I think your format works well to share your message. Thanks!
Thank you for this prompt, Scott! On this Sunday, I have felt very L A Z Y and haven’t had the motivation to do much (recharge time!) But I’m thankful for this community and this really fun prompt, for encouraging me to create something today: whether it was a miss or a near miss ?
Near Misses
Remember that day when…
Mom wasn’t looking, so you took a walk down
the dock? You didn’t yet have control over
your chubby legs, so you tumbled into the
lake. Grandpa saved you before it was too
late.
Mrs. Hughes cold called the student next to
you when asking for a reminder about
remainders? You had no idea how describe
the process to divide.
that time you took a chance and said
yes to a blind date that went really well? The
two of you are still doing well.
the Corolla lady merging into traffic was
scrolling on her phone? If you hadn’t been
paying attention, there would have been an
accident.
you daringly applied for your current job?
a wildfire burned an acreage nearby?
On March 23, 1989 an asteroid nearly
fell from the sky.
So, on this date we celebrate the
near misses that define our fate.
I like the little vignettes. Life is like that– little things that seem inconsequential become the most important of all. Cool approach!
I like this poem. I enjoy learning more about you through you writing.
Oh wow, Rachelle. I’m late here, but I’m so glad I found your poem! I felt like I was flipping through pages of a book, each stanza giving me a glimpse of near-misses that HIT THE TARGET. Wonderful. I wonder if “near misses” could be its own poetry prompt.
September 29th is National Coffee Day here is my abecedarian poem.
Coffee by Another Name
Addiction
Because I actually love my children
Calming potion
Dance team competition drop off is at what time
Excuse to sit and visit my friends for hours
Five dollars well spent
Gets me moving and grooving
Happy juice
I can do this
Java
Knitting mug companion
Liquid gold, the darker the better
My grandbabies are coming when
Nectar of the gods
Orange is not my color
People, too many people around
Questions keep coming
Relaxing morning flavor
Students want me to be able to speak real words
The why did I craft until 1:35 am pick me up
Usually necessary for proper function
Velvety smooth robust flavor
Wakes me up to get things done
Xtra large cup of joe
Yummy beverage
Zzzzz
Coffee is not my cup of tea, as you know, but I appreciate how much you love it. Abecedarians are possibly my favorite form–nicely done.
One of the forms of poetry that can be super challenging and super fun! I love this Ode to Coffee, especially since I’ve given up drinking it during the week ❤️ I did have some iced “orange doesn’t look good on me” today, though ?
DeAnna, Thank you for this coffee litany! [I raise my “cup of joe” to you.] This was fun and well done!
Love this inspiration and your humor!!
Yesterday was National Sibling Day so…
Four
(in honor of National Siblings Day, April 10)
Shared roots
Shared genes
Shared childhood
Shared dreams
Four of us kids
Four goobers sharing space
Four kids living out life
Four kids keeping pace
Growing up together
Growing over time
Growing through thick and thin
Growing into our prime
The first is special
The first sets the bar
The first is the experiment
The first is the star
The second is independent
The second is the clown
The second is the charmer
The second lets us down
The third is the first girl
The third, the quiet child
The third keeps to herself
The third is far from wild
The fourth is the baby
The fourth, a surprise
The fourth is spoiled
The fourth is wise
Each one of us is so different
No two are even close to the same
We don’t have much in common
Except for our last name.
Once Mom then Dad left this place
We shared in all our grief
But with that grief came tension
From which we need relief
With them gone there is no force
To keep the bond among us strong
The fragile peace when they were here
Was somewhat weak in us all along.
Still, we are siblings
That cannot be denied
When it comes down to it
We are by each other’s side.
At least I sure hope so
Mom and Dad would want it that way
Through the strife and rifts
There is love that will stay.
~Susan Ahlbrand
11 April 2021
Susan,
What a lovely poem about siblings ❤
Susan, thank you for writing this tribute to your siblings! I really enjoyed your sincerity; even though there is “tension” and “fragile peace” at times, “[t]here is love that will stay.”
This is a beautiful tribute to siblings. So many of us are not so fortunate to have “the love that will stay.”
July 12
It’s simple
as it should be
on National Simplicity Day:
Eat your jello
and pecan pie.
A good day for both.
Give Orangemen Day
a shudder,
since his mother
is from Belfast,
(though I’m loathe
to celebrate fires
of religious hate)
Wink at heterochromia;
pet a husky.
But keep it simple:
absorb the goodness of the sun
inhale the hydrangea
sing a verse of
lullaby.
My heart pumps little
puffs of joy
to know that
12,796 km
as the crow flies
safe in New Zealand
William Wolf Hoegh
turns one.
I love how you’ve used all the others”days” to celebrate your grandson’s bit, Allison. 12,796 km is so far away! I hope you will get there soon!
And, I hope that you tuck this into a birthday card for your sweet grandson! I love this line: “ My heart/pumps little/puffs of joy”—such a sweet image!
Lovely poem and tackles rather complex emotions and themes despite its “simplicity”. I hope you can go see Wolf soon ❤️
Allison– It amazes me how we can think something “simple” and with examination see that none of it is all that simple…even a crow’s flying distance is so so so so far. The love of this grandma is so deep and so clear..simply beautiful. Thank you for sharing your family. Susie
Allison, I love the beauty of these lines:
Simplicity and hydrangea….love it!
Book Day
By Mo Daley 4-11-21
If I could invent a holiday,
I know exactly what I’d say.
Every man, woman, and child
Would be encouraged to go wild—
To find a place, a secret nook,
A cozy blanket and a favorite book.
There’d be no cooking or cleaning
Or tasks oh-so-demeaning.
Twenty-four hours of pure bliss,
Chuck those chores into the abyss.
It would be illegal to interrupt
While in a hand a tome is cupped.
Just one day to read, nothing more
Don’t tell me that’s what the weekend is for!
My poem is done and I must leave
To discover the tales my book will weave.
Yes! I didn’t see a day like this, but May is “Get Caught Reading a Book” month, so it should perhaps be there? This line reminded me of a rule we have in my family:
Anyone in the last 50 pages of a novel is not allowed to be disturbed. It is a sacred law.
Delightful! I want that holiday! Maybe we should declare it for a day this summer, then celebrate (alone) together, reading all day!
Mo, love it. But, gotta go with Cara. A month to just read by choice my choices. 🙂
Mo,
I love the idea of just curling up with a good book and a strong cup of coffee ☕
I LOVE this holiday!!! I’m using your beautiful poem as a mentor text in my journaling. Thank you for your words; love, love, love.
Mo, I love this idea!! Why is this not a thing? Book day should be on everyone’s calendar! Let me know what day you choose, and I’ll scratch it into mine. (Oh, and I liked your poem, too! I especially enjoyed “It would be illegal to interrupt / While in a hand a tome is cupped.” Lol.)
May 6 is both National Tourist Appreciation Day and my due date so…
“Ode to my tourist”
But first, are you the tourist or am I?
You originated here, yet you
may not establish permanent residency.
Your expected departure is
no later than mid-May.
We’re ready for you to be home.
But then, where are you now?
And, when you do decide to leave,
this place will never be the same.
You’ve only recently arrived, yet I
have inhabited this body
close to 33 years.
You’re my first visitor. So,
in a way I, too, am navigating
a deliciously foreign space. And,
this place will never be the same.
I hope that you’ve enjoyed the amenities
for the last nine months;
you’re no fair-weather flier
you’ve really settled in
and almost seem like a native–
some days it’s hard to know
whether there is a beginning
or an end to either one of us.
An early departure would be fine, they say,
but I do hope that you’ll stick around for a
few more weeks before heading home.
This place will never be the same.
I love your approach, Laura! Your metaphor is just perfect. You seem to have a lot of wisdom already. I bet you are going to be a great mom. I sure hope you keep us posted about your traveler’s arrival!
Oh, Laura! I love the loops of thought this poem took me on! Who is the tourist? Leaving to come home…my first visitor! I’m so glad you wrote this poem. Please tuck it in the baby book! It’s a gem.
Laura, I loved your comparison between your child and “the tourist” and the repetition of “This place will never be the same.” Thank you for this!
This is so beautiful on so many levels!! The repetition of “this place will never be the same” is so effective and rings home to me!
I looked at this earlier today and went to the next day of celebration in our household. April 29th is International Dance Day. I felt like this was a sign. I needed to write this ode. Yesterday, I watched my daughter compete live on stage for the first time in over a year. It was emotion for that reason and another. She is a graduating senior, and my time as a dance mom is coming to an end. I walked, no ideas. Finally, I sat down and did my best. I do not know if I can ever express in words my appreciation for dance.
April 29th is International Dance Day.
Let us all sit and witness
passionate bodies
share stories of
leaping hearts
turning minds
lifting spirits
tapping beats,
expressing their
creative souls
for eyes to watch
and wonder.
Stand and exult
the miraculous movements
of DANCE.
Heather, I love the lines “leaping hearts/turning minds/lifting spirits/tapping beats,/expressing their/creative souls.” The gerunds and line breaks marry the physical with the emotional and create movement on the page and in my ear as I read your words. Happy for you to be able to see your daughter perform!
Heather, this is a lovely tribute to your daughter’s dancing. You have beautiful flow and movement. I really like your usage of short lines- it works with your topic. I hope you share this with your daughter!
I spent some time looking at significant dates from my life on the National Day Calendar website. I checked family birthdays (my mom’s is National Tell a Story Day–which is pretty cool for a retired English teacher who writes a lot now) and landmark days, but perhaps serendipitously, I liked the designations on my own birthday the most, May 16th.
This poem is inspired by Take Your Parents to the Playground Day.
When did we stop giving ourselves permission?
Permission to play
to explore
to demand an audience?
Somewhere along the line we closed the door
to freedom, to blind initiative, to joy
No longer are we able to imagine
castles out of playgrounds
and dragons out of dogs
Propriety prevails, binding our hands,
grounding our feet, closing our minds
Those who bristle against the new rules
are awarded disapproving glances
stern looks and shaking heads
Shouldn’t we stop the pull of adulthood
in its tracks?
Open the windows of curiosity and
break down the doors of judgment
Remember the joy of playing,
of not caring what anyone thinks
Inviting our inner child to come out,
come out, wherever they are
It might just allow our souls to soar
once again on the sea of imagination.
Cara, first of all I love the day you decided to celebrate. Yes, why do we feel guilty if we are playing? Very thoughtful question. My favorite part was the end…soaring into a “sea of imagination”. Lovely!
Cara,
Lovely poem reminding us to stay young at heart ❤ and remember to play.
I really enjoy this poem and its overall message. This reminds me of your own classroom a bit and the art projects which demand students to PLAY. You allow—rather, encourage—imagination through that.
I loved the word play/ opposite connotations going on in this line:
“are awarded disapproving glances”
Thanks for sharing your imagination and creation with us today!
March 13 was our first day of the district closing down, our city quarantining. Apparently, it’s also Good Samaritan Day, Open an Umbrella Indoors Day, Blame Someone Else Day, amongst others..
March 13, 2020
How many people
opened an umbrella indoors?!
Not long into recommended
precautions, and those we
believed were good samaritans
turned out to be the ones
who blamed everyone else for
our collective problems
Brilliant Britt!!! I think you’ve nailed this one perfectly! How you included all 3 days into this poem is remarkable.
❤️
Britt, I love the clever way you tie all of these holidays together in your poem My favorite part is believing in good samaritans who ended up blaming everyone else. Very cleverly written poem! Awesome!
So clever! So true! I enjoy reading your poems, Britt.
I love how you wove all of the days together, and the idea of so many people opening umbrellas indoors on March 13, which you might recall was a FRIDAY the 13th! Awesome nugget of a poem!
In honor of National Velociraptor Day (April 18th)
He bends his knees
and leans forward
curving two fingers from each hand
into vicious claws
then searches for prey.
Victim located,
he rears his head back
then simultaneously
springs onto the couch
and lets out a deadly SCREECH
coming in for the kill
but he’s already succeeding at murdering
my bad mood
because I can’t watch my husband’s
Velociraptor impression
without giving in to a chuckle.
Ha! Me either! This is great.
This is hilarious! I love the twist, and it made me laugh, too.
Rachel — You made me laugh out loud. This sounds so so so much like my niece’s description of her husband. LOL! Crazy boys. Thank you! Susie
So funny! What a joyful husband!! (Velociraptor = joy?)
I LOVE this–I thought it was your kid…obviously your strategy. Awesome. 🙂
Rachel, this is hilarious. I love the sequence and the end is delivered perfectly!
Rachel, Your ending was quite unexpected! Very funny! Thank you for writing about this underrated holiday!
The worst day of the year
Is the last day of summer.
Everyone in education
Knows that summer does not end
On the autumnal equinox eve.
It ends the day before school starts.
Gone are the days of
No bells or schedules.
Gone are the days
You can call your own.
Make no mistake,
Most teachers work
Their asses off
During summer break.
You will find us participating
In summer writing projects
Or STEM conferences
Or AP Summer Institutes.
We may be renewing our
Teaching certificates
Or updating our portfolios
Or working on National Certification.
Some of us are completing graduate work
At a local university or perhaps online.
We may be moving entire classrooms (again)
Or even moving to a whole new school.
Then, of course, you will
Find us like those plastic drinking birds
Bobbing up and down in the flower beds
Harvesting our heirloom tomatoes.
You will find us at our kids’ ball games
Or, maybe, at an MLB ballpark.
You will find us taking kids to summer camp
Or, maybe, teaching vacation Bible school.
You will find us on the road trip to Hell,
AKA the Grand Canyon or the Badlands (though both are beautiful)
You will find us on a Carnival Cruise
To Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Cancún.
We will be having garage sales.
We will be having drinks by the pool.
We will be painting our kitchens French creme.
We will be walking our Irish setters.
We will give ties on Father’s Day.
We will eat hot dogs on Independence Day.
But we will be counting down the days
Until there is only one day left.
Like our very students,
We won’t sleep much
The night before that
First day of the new school year.
Some of us are too cool to worry about school.
Those teachers don’t count here.
It’s the others of us who will feel the heat.
It’s the others of us who will feel the pressure.
Some will have butterflies in their stomachs –
Swarms of monarchs that is.
Others will develop strange stress headaches
Or knots of tension in our necks.
Some of us will have nightmares
About classes we cannot control
Or supplies that did not arrive
Or, God forbid, teaching ala nude.
The worst day of the year
Is the last day of summer.
Oh, you’ve captured it well! I know that last day of feeling like your time is your time. I especially appreciate the specificity in this stanza: We will be having garage sales.
We will be having drinks by the pool.
We will be painting our kitchens French creme.
We will be walking our Irish setters.
Again, celebrating that individuality. Well done – I resonated with this one! 🙂
Every line is TRUTH! The dreams….oh, those ridiculous dreams before school begins.
Katrina — You have some bold and serious truth here. The life of a teacher is so terribly misunderstood, and you’ve given us an important window into the reality of how hard teachers work and how crammed packed their lives are. I hear you! Susie
This is all so true. Nightmares and swarms of monarchs are reality.
Scott – thanks for an awesome poem! I was feeling like my poems of late were kind of feeling like a greeting card, going for a little laugh instead of going deeper. I appreciated your critique of that kind of sentiment and loved the openness and choices in your prompt, too.
Predestined?
That gigantic birthday book
always makes my stomach flip
You’ll find I share that day with um –
I’ll give you a clue –
the name rhymes with shmitler.
(Sorry – I’m making light – I’d rather not write the name)
Oh, if that’s not bad enough?
It’s also National Pot-Smoking Day.
Is my life informed by these chance crossovers –
Am I predestined to be a stoned dictator?
At a friend’s baby-naming ceremony today
In love with the smush of a new face
fresh, cradled, adored –
I was reminded that our paths are entirely
Singular.
We are shaped by more than a day –
But the way
the coils of DNA
wrapped and harmonized
to make the curve of your eyes,
The stories of our ancestors
Our placement on Earth’s folds
Our moment in the world’s saga
The heavens and their constellations
And most holy of all:
The love and choices
we make.
Love it! “The name rhymes with shmitler” made me laugh. And I LOVE your message about individuality and choices!
Emily — You put together a beautiful piece here. How utterly crappy to have the evil dictator (it pains me to write his name as well) cross your path…EEK! But how funny to have a National Pot-Smoking Day AND have it be your day. But then you settle into the gloriously described
Holy cow–that is gorgeous — coils of DNA … harmonized to make the curve of your eyes…. dang, that is beautiful! “Earth’s folds”…. ooooo! That is such a phrase!
And thinking of our paths as “singular” and “holy choices”… This is a very loaded poem that, given the humor of the prompt, I am surprised to find… you really brought forth a lovely contemplation. Love it. Susie
Emily, what a gorgeous poem. I so enjoy the way you move from a point of humor to something far more rich that connects us to others. I especially liked
Beautiful!
Emily, This is great! I love the shift from the lighthearted (and the acknowledgement of that) to the seriousness of “who (and how) we are.” Stanza five is beautiful. “But the way / the coils of DNA / wrapped and harmonized / to make the curve of your eyes.” That is so so good. Thank you for writing and sharing this with us!
How fun! I wrote this about a particular day in May. I was influenced by my years spent living in Louisville, KY.
i take my seat
after two weeks of
parties
parades
steamboat races
sunburned faces
i take my seat
in the wooden grandstand
an upgrade from
mud and sun
and springtime
smells of flowers
and manure
i take my seat
study the forum
observe track conditions
stir the muddled mint leaf
in watered down bourbon
kid myself in thinking
i can pick ‘em
i take my seat
the bugler makes a call
a parade of
bright silk upon
chestnut
bay
black
gray
three years
in two minutes
i jump from my seat
Eric, I love the sequence of your poem, the use of rhyme, and how you show it’s Derby Day or some kind of horse race at least. I so enjoyed
I can definitely relate to kidding myself into thinking I can pick a winner. Very fun poem! Loved it!
Eric, I really liked your reversal at the end (from “i take my seat” to “i jump from my seat”). Thank you for writing and sharing this! This was fun!
Eric, I love the way your poem pulls us from the big parade to the moment that you jump from your feet. Your words and lines create a zoom in effect that gives us an opportunity to travel to the exhilarating moment that means you “can pick’em”!
Petra
This is dedicated to one
who said she would be named Petra
on National Name Yourself Day.
A name of history from a place
near the United Kingdom
where Winston Churchill was the Prime Minister
of legend like another famous creature, the Unicorn,
an imaginary creature of myth
honored on the same national holiday.
To think there are connections between these days of honor
can take some mentation
but the connections are there.
This one now named Petra,
a significant figure, is strong and heroic.
With her imagination
she could become legendary as well
even though not quite as renowned
as the creature
with a single spiraling horn on its forehead.
I see the links.
They may seem contrived.
Be assured, I am without hallucination
but lucky to have eaten the almond
from a Chinese Almond Cookie on the national holiday
of April 9th and shared with these others.
Susan, thank you for making (and sharing) these connections with us! I really enjoyed the truth that “This one now named Petra” could “With her imagination … become legendary as well.” I like that idea!
I enjoy thinking about the quirkier holidays. Thank you for bringing this idea forward today and sharing your poem about Violets. I really enjoyed how you played with our concepts of holidays. I decided to write about my own holiday: write outside day or, as I titled it, take your notebook outside, based on my own enjoyment of doing that exact thing the past few weekends. Obviously this would need to be a holiday in early spring I think and placing it during poetry month seems fitting — though what day it will be I cannot say.
On Take Your Notebook Outside Day
Oh! To be the ephemeral moment
kissed with a hint of innocent whimsy
betrayal at its finest.
This is to be the day
we pluck ourselves out of mundanity
and repetitive drudgery.
Go forth with tools in hand:
paper, stone, or canvas
pens, chalks, or paints
and plop down upon the dew-dampened field,
the creek-caressed rock,
the sun-feathered sand.
Let nature channel through
your tools of man
capturing
but an impression
with ideas and ink.
Each time your eyes drift to the page
that moment lost forever,
betrayed with each blinking eye!
But despair not in the futility of it!
Instead embrace and delight in
the ephemeral moment
of life lived between the lines on the page
of this one, triumphant and transient day
When we brave writers ventured
out beyond the keystrokes and
text chains
to forge fearsome words in
more temporary modes.
Celebrating that which will live beyond us,
but trying to capture its beauty on the page all the same.
Oooh this is so beautiful! I especially love your last two lines: “Celebrating that which will live beyond us, / but trying to capture its beauty on the page all the same.” It’s curious that we have that need to describe it in words on paper, but we do 🙂 I also love where you talk about the “futility” of writing outside – it made me think of times when I’ve tried to write outside and have gotten distracted by the bugs crawling on my notebook!
I love this so much, Erica!
Notebooking has forced me to slow down, to notice, to embrace my words appearing on the page.
What a perfect poem. I want to plop down on the “sun-feathered sand.” I can’t wait for that day.
Bryan – your poem made me laugh in recognition! Wow, the majorette and the nose clarinet, the rhymes, the frisky nature of the season juxtaposed with your allergies suffering made for great comedy – but I hope you can get some relief, too!
Emily Dickinson’s poem “I’m nobody” is a favorite. I value its reminder to be humble, so I’m celebrating National Anonymity Day, although I don’t know if it’s a thing.
Anonymity Day
Emily D proclaimed
It’s fine to go unnamed.
Being nobody I’ll embrace;
Anonymity is no disgrace.
Someone must adore
“Rock stars” seeking more.
In our spinning Tik Tok time
A life unknown is sublime.
We can’t all influence the net,
Telling folks what to get.
How dull to only center “me.”
A better world we see with “we.”
—Glenda Funk
Oh, wow, you have written a lovely Emily-inspired poem, Glenda. I especially like that last couplet:
It’s perfectly true. I love the idea of relaxing in that anonymity.
I think it would be a nervous existence if you always had to worry about saying the wrong thing and becoming a pariah. You are right when you say, “A life unknown is sublime.”
Thank you, Glenda!
Glenda, this is a lot of fun! I loved your clever rhymes throughout — especially in stanzas four and five: “In our spinning Tik Tok time / A life unknown is sublime” and “We can’t all influence the net, / Telling folks what to get.” (I looked up Anonymity Day and, of course, couldn’t find it. Now, contrary to the gist of your poem, I think you are, indeed, a Poetic Influencer, so you just name the date, and it’ll be official!)
I absolutely love the idea of Anonymity Day – and especially fun that it chooses the date to be anonymous. Your poem is so fun, with its rhyming couplets. Rock stars are very different personalities from anonymous folks, you capture this so well with:
Bravo! Miss Emily would be quite impressed, I’m sure.
Glenda — I LOVE the “we” of this…. such a good lesson, this poem. Emily D had a big understanding of the “me” vs “we” and you’ve captured that. I think, as of this moment, there IS an Anonymity Day — so be it! But, you my friend, are hardly anonymous here in this space…we know you and look forward to your presence every day! Hugs, Susie
Glenda, ahhhh, love the idea of anonymity creating a better world. What a clever and wonderful nod to Emily’s poetry! Sensational poem!
Best advice EVER!!!! I’m loving the entire message, but these lines were especially poignant:
Homerun, Glenda!
Glenda! This is fantastic.
I absolutely love
Oh, Scott, you had me laughing or scratching my head a dozen times in your Inspiration and Process. What fun! I think this would be such a fun prompt for kids/teens/adults!
Your poem is another treasure. “perfect plastic greetings” is such an apt phrase. These lines are a great description of Hallmark cards:
Here’s my ode to Grilled Cheese (I couldn’t get past tomorrow on the nationaltoday.com link–I will keep that one handy and try again sometime!) But when I saw that April 12 is a special day, I knew what I would be having for lunch in honor National Grilled Cheese Day!
Ode to Grilled Cheese
How glorious are your
gooey,
melty,
strings of goodness,
golden globs of
nutty,
buttery
deliciousness
nestled inside.
Outside,
thick slices of
homemade
sourdough
buttered and sizzling
in the pan,
crispy and brown,
becoming one with the
cheddar.
You are a wonder.
Denise, Lol. I love this: “gooey, / melty, / strings of goodness, / golden globs of / nutty, / buttery / deliciousness.” So good! Your vivid details made my stomach growl as I read this. Thank you!
Oh my, this is a delicious poem! I am absolutely craving grilled cheese. This is the irresistible part for me:
Now I know what I’m eating tomorrow!! Love this, Denise!
Oh Baby, I could be “one with the cheddar” right now, Denise! Whoof! I’m pickin’ off the lbs with Weight Watchers and somehow they left grilled cheese off the menu. Dang! Words like “thick” and “globs” and “buttery”…. you had me at the title! LOL! Love it. Susie
Denise,
You’re making me hungry. Throw in some tomato-basil soup for the perfect meal.
I love the alliteration in “strings of goodness. golden globs.” The sounds are wonderful in your poem.
Teachers Return to Schools Week… After the Pandemic
(The 2nd largest school district
In the nation
Opens its schools
To students and staff
The third week of April
I declare the week of April 19th as Teachers Return To Schools Week… After the Pandemic)
With options of cohort A or B
Parents decide what’s best
For children who are well
And have a negative Covid test
Staggered start times
With no understanding of how
Staggered end times
Where will they go now?
Three red circles set in place
To show safe distancing in line
But what about all the others
What if it’s six, eight, or nine?
Unanswered questions
About how this should work
Shoulder shrugs and “We’ll see.”
I’m about to go berserk!
But with 33 days until summer
Maybe we will survive
Cohort A will work from school
Cohort B will continue to thrive.
©Stacey L. Joy, April 11, 2021
Wishing all of us a safe “Teachers Return to Schools Week… After the Pandemic!”
Stacey, too perfect. Love your rhyme. This absolutely captures the mood right now. and the truth: “Shoulder shrugs and ‘We’ll see.'” Building the plane while we fly. XO 33 days: Hold on, we can make it. <3
Stacey, I can hear your frustration in this poem, and it is easily understood with the details you share. Teaching during this pandemic is clearly frustrating for everyone. The shoulder shrugging image is what is particularly aggravating. I don’t know if good luck is a strong enough sentiment for the return of students April 19th, but I do wish you the best.
Oh, Stacey! So many unanswered questions. And you managed to write about it in rhyme! I imagine you would be going berserk! But you are right, you will survive. Prayers and wishes for a safe return for all.
What worries for these teachers! Yes, how will this work out? So frustrating with administrators that shrug shoulders and say “we’ll see.” My daughter teaches digital photography at high school and is about to go berserk trying to imagine fifty students a day working and touching all the technology. Then there is the 10 minute break for all teachers at once to be using the bathroom. How will that work? Your poem is right on and I will let her read it.
Stacey, thank you for this! You are so right: “Cohort B will continue to thrive” and Cohort A, oh, yeah, they’ll “work from school.” Remote learning is, indeed, learning. And with 33 days until summer, why don’t we just stay at home…and CONTINUE to learn. Safely. I know that these are difficult decisions with many many variables…it’s just…ugh…frustrating. (I’m still crossing my fingers to see if my district will change their minds before the 19th.) Good luck and be safe!
Oh, Stacey — the chaos of that just gives me the willies. Egads! “Unanswered questions” INDEED! I am sending a big wrap-around-full-body-mask and my fingers are crossed for all of you! We will be here…lean on all these writerly shoulders! Susie
Thanks Susie, I need that body mask, apparently we don’t even have desk shields for teachers!
Stacey,
This would drive me Bedell, too. What is it about decision makers in schools that cause them to fail to anticipate many questions? Ugh. There’s hope in these last lines.
Hold onto that hope.
Stacey, my heart goes out to the decision makers. Shall we? Shan’t we? Are we really ready? Will everyone abide by safety rules? What about my kids? They’re school’s not opening, yet?
Whatever is decided we trust that all will be well wherever you will be.
Hello, Scott! I enjoyed your introduction as much as your poem! Gotta appreciate a good sense of humor.
My favorite lines:
?
Scott, your bio made me think of a day that should be celebrated. Thanks for your prompt. I was also thinking that there probably is a bad poetry day because I’ve written three so far. Here’s the one I’m sharing.
Just Say No Day
NO
Not
Going
To
Do
It
No
Not
Getting
Any
No
Way
Not
Today
No
Not
Trying
That
No
You
Can’t
Make
Me
Did
You
Hear
Me
Not
Just
No
Oh
hell
NO
Barb Edler
11 April 2021
Barb — You’ve got your “bi-ach” on today… LOLOLOL! I LOVE this. Just the punch of every word/line….NO! Did you not hear me? I said, “NOOOOO!” Boy, don’t we all feel this way on some days? The last “Oh/hell/NO” just carried your voice all dressed up in boots with a fist raised! LOVE IT! Thank you for a holiday we DO, indeed, need! Susie
Thank you for this poem. It made me laugh and laugh. I love the “skinny” feel of it, the way each word stands out. I might need to print it out & tape it over my desk – or maybe over the kitchen sink – especially starting from “Did you hear me” Hahaha!
I love the idea of a No holiday! I enjoyed the phrases you used to write this poem.
Oh, a Just Say No Day! And you have written the theme song for it! I love this!
Oh, how I love this poem and the idea for this day. Lately, this has been a really day for me. So many times I have had to say NO to keep my sanity. I love how you write the different ways to say NO, as well.
Love this emphatic one word per line! This is NO! is a definite yes!
Barb?
No! “Oh / hell / NO”
This is perfect. I think there’s something rather narcissistic about those who never say NO, as though they’re the only ones who can do whatever.
Let me know when this day comes. I need this day. I think this should be at least one day a week. I love the end “Oh Hell no.”
Barb, I’m all about your poem! And I loved the “Oh / hell / NO” at the end. (After being on various school committees during my tenure, I can attest to the fact that saying “no” is not easy: your poem would have come in handy over the years!)
Scott, I have always wondered why anyone would say violets are blue, and I appreciate your poem grappling with this very same issue! At the heart of your poem is the true struggle we face in writing:
Thank you for today’s inspiration. I look forward to reading the myriad of poetry that others will write today – I, myself, just decided to go with the light and happy first words that landed . . . enjoy!
Let’s call it a Day Poem
or
In a Days
Rise and shine!
this is a red letter day
a day to write poetry
all day, day to day
day in, day out
one day, one a day
break of day, night and day,
latter day, back in the day
you name the day, any time of day
no time like the present
24 little hours
carpe diem, seize the day!
poetry will carry the day
every morning
every evening
ain’t we got fun?
Have a nice day!
Maureen, I love the rhythm in your words and the playfulness of “day!” It shares in momentum of Dr. Seuss. Fun, playful, lighthearted, and delightful!
Maureen — This is SOOO my kind of poem…all dem days! I love this litany of days flying right by. And it reads like they are flyin’ too! And poetry did “carry the day” which I, of course, love. Way to go! Susie
So many joyful days in your poem! You have celebrated a red letter day of poems! Very sweet! Thank you.
Maureen,
You are spot on in your description of how poetry is all-consuming during these days.
This celebration of poetry and its vital importance is my favorite part of the poem.
Maureen, I really enjoyed your fun exploration of the prompt, all the playing with “day”! And I totally agree that “poetry will carry the day,” and it does! Thanks for this!
Birthday Manipulations
Just moments before my birthday,
if only I’d popped out sooner,
lo and behold, lie the raptures
of National Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day –
bowls of chocolate, fistfuls of nuts
rivers of coffee-colored goo,
honey-rich tang meant just for you!
But NO! My plaint: born too late!
Instead, on my day, what’s my fate —
Internation’l Accounting Day,
adding machines don’t fill my cup.
A holiday? Just won’t add up!
While I honor the CPA,
those numbers and calculations,
I hereby my birthday declare
aligned with the nutters and chocolatiers!
Let’s have indulgence, decadence,
holidays galore, my preference,
add Salty Vinegar Chips Day,
and Day of the National Kiss,
blow out all the candles, a day not to miss —
make every day a PAAARRR-TAAAY
with Soozay!
by Susie Morice, April 11, 2021
This is fabulous, Susie! (Now, I must go look up the day I was born – is it a holiday of any sort?) I love your witty rhymes, and I am totally with you here –
Absolutely!!
Susie, Yeah, PAAARR-TAAAY! Love your very fun poem full of rich sensory tastes and fun galore. Our birthdays should be indulgent and decadent! And National Kiss day, say what? Love, love, love
You rock, Soozay! Thanks!
OMG, love this!! I relate to the birthday day disappointments, and you capture this in the things you choose to celebrate instead of National CPA day! The rhymes in here feel totally natural, and I love the last lines to Par-tayyy with Soozay! Thanks for the fun poem!
That is so hilarious! You missed it by this much–all that chocolate and almondy goodness gone, and you born on Accounting Day. Great idea for your poem. Super:
P.S. I just looked up that my birthday is National Underwear Day! That could have been a poem too.
Susie, wait… what? There’s a day for chocolate and almonds? How could I not know this? It would be my groundhog’s day choice for sure. Your writing is shining – a word paaarrr-taay, as we would expect from Soozay! This has such a fun tone.
Soozay,
I’m here for that PAAARRR-TAAAY! I love the way you reframe yourself birthday:
Oh man, Glenda! TOILET DAY! Geez! How crappy is that?!!! LOLOLOLOL! Hugs, Susie
Soozay, I loved this! This kept me smiling from the start, from the line “if only I’d popped out sooner” to “make every day a PAAARRR-TAAAY.” So glad that you’ve “declare[d]” that your birthday will be “aligned with the nutters and chocolatiers!” (And I think it’s a great idea adding Salty Vinegar Chips, too.)
Hmm. The poem I shared about my mom earlier? A little too dark for this dreary, rainy day in the northeast. (And, honestly, cheating: I wrote it last year.). Here’s a new one in honor of another weird “day” that falls on my birthday: National “Card Day,” defined online as ” a day for sentimental people to get their saved cards out and read them.” XD So…hope it’s okay but I’m posting this second one to negate the sadness of the first one. 🙂
Sleeping
Sleeping in my garage, the box —
blue, plastic, a white lid — holds
past lives. All of them. I remember
each life as if it were now. Each love
as if it were tomorrow’s promise. Their lovely light
illuminates my past:
The bundle of letters, written slow, fast
from distant warrior cousin. Aware of the box
around her heart and her desire to gift it. Her light
tread as, heart heavy and unknown, she holds
it out tentatively, to strangers to bite. Her love,
trusting and inscrutable to me, and I remember.
And, even still, hard to remember:
The self-portrait of a wild-haired boy, youth past,
even at 21; I, breathless with love,
heart aching and unboxed,
felt first love and loss take hold
and fill me with obliterative dark and light.
Another wild one and letters full of love and light:
Three years made him a member
of this club. Recollections take hold:
Of fine, full days past:
soft hair tangled in fingers, warm bodies boxed
in a bed, feverish with love.
Then, a different sort of love:
Best friend radiating strength and light
whose drive and energy resisted boxing.
With both relish and rue, I remember:
Careless bravado; careful examination; hearts laid bare of their past,
of poetry, and promises that friendship would always hold.
Take a breath. One by one, I remove the contents. Hold
them gently in my hands. And love
them. Remind myself, bittersweet, that these days are past.
The box relieves its contents as, from heavy to light,
it unburdens itself of its “remember
whens.” And I relish keen pleasure in the unboxing.
My hands resist, but reseal the lid. Memories are, once again, boxed
in their small tomb, in my garage. A constant remember,
from time to time. Small deaths that beg for light.
I love the intention behind this poem – setting aside time to actually read those letters and cards. Usually that starts as cleaning for me, and ends with me hunched over the box and laughing or tearing up with memories. I love the closing:
“My hands resist, but reseal the lid. Memories are, once again, boxed
in their small tomb, in my garage. A constant remember,
from time to time. Small deaths that beg for light.”
It reminds me how alive those moments become. Thanks for the beautiful poem and sharing memories with us.
Stretched thin
“Mom, mom, mom!”
I’m hungry.
What can we do? Can we watch Mr. Rogers?
Laundry hanging, drying,
desert cracked knuckles and palms.
The washing, the cleaning, the putting away.
“Mom (Hun)! Can you help me fix the lawn mower?”
Back, breaking,
knuckles now bleeding.
“Mom, I need some water.”
Stop, drop
reaching for a cup,
thinking of the list To-Do.
Oops, I forgot the morning dishes!
Mom, Mom, Mom!
“I’m bored. What can we do?”
Bored amongst paradise;
eagles soaring,
fish flopping,
chickens exploring,
rabbits hopping,
the sun is shining,
the sky is blue,
playing outside is the thing to-do.
I’ll be out in a minute; I need to prep!
And what is it that was due?
Toothpaste!
Where’s my grocery list?
I can’t forget the milk.
Where did those clothes come from?
Another wash.
I’ll be out in a minute! I’ve got one more thing to-do!
Is it Mother’s Day?
I’m not sure, I haven’t had time to check.
I thought it was Labor Day.
Either way,
I’ve got to squeeze in the time to play!
Linda,
This is a much-needed ode to all moms doing everything for everyone all of the time! I love it! I connected with the shift of duties here:
Knowing how much we carry in our minds, many things pop in and out, never to return without a list or a phone reminder nowadays.
Thank you! I hope your Mother’s Day this May is a day for you to do as you choose!
????
Linda, yep, you’ve got it right! Moms are constantly pulled in multiple directions, and your poem expertly explores that! (And, of course, you, undoubtedly, would agree that having one day isn’t enough to celebrate all the things that Mom does, to assuage her “breaking” back and “bleeding” knuckles!)
All I can say, Linda, is: So relatable.
Just kidding: That’s not all I’ll say! Love the authenticity of the dialogue and how it’s interspersed with your internal thoughts. feelings, and responses. The structure and the pacing were perfect for the content.
Loved “The washing, the cleaning, the putting away.” Made laundry sound like a relentless process that you have no control over. Which it is. XD
So much ironic truth to these witty lines:
*Siblings Day Was Yesterday
April 10th is Siblings Day.
I have two and one.
Two sisters and one brother
All born from our dear mother.
Yesterday was Siblings Day
How I recall how we used to play
Bouncing big balls on our cracked-up sidewalk.
Teasing each other with foolish trash talk.
April 10th is Siblings Say.
And all I really want to say,
Is, “Thank you God for one and all
That now as adults, we still have a ball
When we gather, when we recall
Those days in Motown playing with that ball.”
*Honoring my siblings, Isadore, Verneal and Veronica
Anna, what a fun celebration of and for your siblings! I love your rhyming throughout and the double use of “ball.” Thank you!
Anna, this was a lovely tribute! Love your rhymed couplets. Thank you for sharing it with us! <3
Wonderful to be able to celebrate and tribute your siblings
Welcome! You know them, too.
Beautiful tribute to your siblings. I love that you included them all. I missed Siblings Day yesterday so I better send my sis some extra love today. We talk all the time all day long and neither of us remembered Siblings Day.
❤️
Don’t worry about a “day”. Your sister knows you love her.
As my husband says, “Worry about how I treat you everyday, not just on Valentine’s Day!” For Mother’s Day, he says, “You’re not my mother!” If you been a good mother to your children, it’s because I taught them to respect you.” (We’ve been married 54 years; he can get away with saying stuff like that!”)
Beautiful ode to siblings! These are happy images that I remember from my own childhood/siblings:
I feel badly that I didn’t know yesterday was Siblings’ day – I’ll reach out to mine a day late to the party!
Anna, you write a beautiful tribute to your siblings. How wonderful to share in the moments in growing up as you gather in adulthood. Just lovely!
Anna – love the rhyming tribute to the siblings and the loving teasing and memories – I love the images of the bouncing balls and trash talk on the cracked sidewalks. Lovely!
Aww — what a sweet and fun way to celebrate and honor your siblings. I loved the imagery of the ball and how you played with the double meaning of that word. I definitely appreciate my siblings as an adult more and I think this poem speaks to that. Thanks for sharing it!
What fun! I discovered that my son’s birthday is the Global Day of Parents, International Tabletop Day, National Olive Day, National Say Something Nice Day and World Milk Day. I think I got all of those ideas in this Ode to June First. Now, can I do it again for the other child? Hmmm….
Ode to June 1st
My child is being born
late, unwilling to leave
the curled comfort of my womb.
(He will always need encouragement
to move through pain to new places)
My body expels this creature
once smaller than an olive
now shockingly big. I push
him into the world: Be kind
play games; take risks; love this
life you’ve been given.
My milk will come in tomorrow.
Amanda, this is great! I loved this on multiple levels. One, as a poem in its own right — “unwilling to leave / the curled comfort of my womb” and then the reflection in the parentheses “(He will always need encouragement / to move through pain to new places)” — and two, as something that was carefully crafted with the intent of layered meanings — seeing National Olive Day in the lines “My body expels this creature / once smaller than an olive.” Very cool. Thank you for writing this!
Amanda, love this! Especially:
“(He will always need encouragement
to move through pain to new places)”
Such a cool insight/comparison; wow.
This is lovely, Amanda. Such a great idea to incorporate all the celebrations on your child’s birthday. It turned out great, especially the olive <3 "International Tabletop Day" – so strange HA!
You wove it all in! Hats off to you! My third child was born late and this resonated with me about her, “He will always need encouragement to move through pain to new places.” Now an adult she’s not so clingy, but as a child, she hated first days of school and birthday parties. Makes me want to write an ode to her. This prompt just keeps on giving!
Amanda, these lines made a smile of recognition come across my face, I have a child just like this, too:
Amanda, such raw and beautiful truth in your words of your son’s birth. I know that feeling and was touched by your perspective and sharing.
Oh, Amanda, what a lovely way to celebrate your son! Once an olive, soon in college! 🙂
Amanda – I love the way you set yourself up for the challenge with incorporating all of the days on that one day – it really came together seamlessly! Your push to “be kind, play games, take risks, love this life you’ve been given” is a truly beautiful wish. I went to a friend’s baby-naming ceremony today, and this reminded me of all the beautiful hopes we have for our kids. Lovely poem!
I wrote an ode after Christopher Smart whose poem “Jubilate Agno, Fragment B [For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry]” is featured on today’s The Writer’s Almanac: https://www.garrisonkeillor.com/radio/twa-the-writers-almanac-for-april-11-2021/
For I Will Consider my Cat Fancy
For she was given by God one September morning, alone and hungry.
For she is still small-faced, like a kitten, while her full belly flops.
For she shakes her head after she eats, makes me chuckle.
For her fur soft as down tickles my cheek.
For she chases ice in the sink to hear plink, plink.
For she licks my hand with rough emory touch.
For the salamander’s tail still moving she bats and bruises.
For the tin-tin mew alarm too early in the morning.
For her crossed blue eyes questioning everything.
For a pink gumdrop nose and fur as white as cotton.
For she waits for me at the window for my return.
For she flips over & over greeting me with paws in prayer position, Fancy hands.
I remember when you found Fancy – and I love Smart’s poem (haven’t used it in a few years; must remedy that!). This poem gives me a wonderfully fun picture of how Fancy moves through her day, each detail showing her personality and your loving observation. I’m glad Fancy came into your life!
Margaret, I love her picture in the chair this morning! She is dreamy. Your onamatopoeia is splendid here in this poem – but my absolute fave line is
For her crossed blue eyes questioning everything
Now that’s a picture!
Margaret, thank you for being inspired by Christopher Smart and your cat Fancy! I can vividly picture her “wait[ing] for [you] at the window” with her “pink gumdrop nose and fur as white as cotton.” (As a side note, after reading your poem the first time, I followed your link so that when I read your poem again, I did it in the voice of Garrison Keillor.)
Oh Scott, what a dream to have “Garrison Keillor” read my poem aloud. You made my day!
Almost all of these images remind me of my old cat, Margaret. Beautiful ode to Fancy. I love her “in the sink” and “plink, plink”! 🙂
Margaret — This makes me want a kitty all over again. Each of these little kitty-quirks bring back those kitty moments. The one that touches me the most is the one you saved for last…that “flip[ping] over” as the greeting when you’ve been away. Love that. Thank you. Susie
Margaret – your poem reminded me how each cat is so unique in their behaviors, and yet there’s something a little universal about their quirks. You captured your cat’s physical and behavioral individuality here, as well as your appreciation of her. Love it!
Sweet! Oh, this is so sweet. I need to go find my kitty and give him a snuggle after reading this. I love the tin tin mew alarm and the gumdrop nose.
Scott, I love this prompt. Who knew that my birthday was National Mother Language Day? Mother Language made me think not of my Mother Language(s), but of mother language. So, sharing a poem about my mom after my dad’s passing last year.
Grief
“A tomb around this place,” says Mom to me.
“Without the need to go to him, to do
for him—-how will I live? How will I be?”
How will it be? The truth is this: It will.
It must go on. Mom says, to me, “I see
how you must persevere. No sitting still
for you. You have your kids and need to see
them through. But I? He was my life, so ill
with need, regret; with fear and loss and grief
And now–he’s gone. No work to do. So still.
When all before was work and noise and strife.
I live between desire to die and will
to move ahead and bear the weight of life.
Which path to take? Which choice to make?” she asks.
Ahead: The razor’s edge; the choice, a knife.
Atop the blade, atremble, just her will.
Wow, Wendy, I’m so sorry for your loss. This is the question we ask ourselves when we lose someone close, isn’t it? “How?” “How will I live?” “How will it be?” And I love your answer: “it will. / It must go on.” Thank you for exploring this and sharing it with this community of poets.
So interesting to see the many different things that come out of this prompt. What a very emotional poem you have written, Wendy. I hope your mom is doing ok. So many difficult questions here: “How will I be?”, “Which choice to make?” That ending is difficult, but I really appreciate this tone: “How will it be? The truth is this: It will./It must go on.” Thank you for sharing this.
Angie, the passing of time has definitely helped her. Grief really consumed her, at first, in a scary way. Thanks for your well wishes. she is on the mend. 🙂
What a powerful perspective you have chosen. The repetition of words and phrases makes your mother’s grief almost palpable. These lines really caught me
A beautiful poem about a difficult subject.
Wendy, you show your mother’s grief so well. I can relate to the line “I live between desire to die and will”. The end of your poem is gripping. Thanks for sharing such a moving poem. Hugs!
Wendy, your Mom sounds like a strong loving woman, bound to duty, but also to care. Your rhymes with ill, still, and will, makes me hear, “But still! and poins me to her fortitude. I imagine she’s passing that on to you.
Thanks for this very unique prompt, Scott, and your very interesting and entertaining introduction, inspiration, and ideas. I love reading your writing. “and violets are violet” LOL!
SAD Day (AKA My Birthday)
I once heard my
day of birth described as
“Side Chick Awareness Day”
that wasn’t cool.
and usually I met shit like that
with Jay-Z’s anthem:
“get
that
dirt off your shoulder”
and usually I let shit like that
slip off my
shoulder, a child
down a slide
laughing an
-I don’t care-
but I did.
maybe
the words were a
mirror and
I saw myself
reflected in
them
too close
to home.
maybe.
I absolutely loved the image and wording in this part about things that “slide off your shoulders” being compared to a child sliding down a slide:
“and usually I met shit like that
with Jay-Z’s anthem:
“get
that
dirt off your shoulder”
and usually I let shit like that
slip off my
shoulder, a child
down a slide
laughing an
-I don’t care-“
I want to write a poem with “shit like that” in it. Love your brazenness and bold claim to your birthday.
Angie, this is pure voice! And style! And sass! And badass! I love “shit like that.” Get yourself a Day poem crown and wear it proudly today – this is magnificent! You should share it with Jay-Z.
Angie, thank you for writing and sharing this! I loved your voice in this, the “brashness” juxtaposed with the image of child on a slide, not to mention the clear and concise image of “words as mirrors.” And, hey, I’ve just learned that if you have “no chrome on the wheels, [you’re] a grown-up for real.” So, crush that “reflect[ion]” at the end of your poem. “Haters gonna hate.” (Wait, sorry, wrong song.)
I love this bit:
“and usually I let shit like that
slip off my
shoulder, a child
down a slide
laughing an
-I don’t care-
but I did.”
I like it because that simple last line speaks volumes. Love how the Jay-Z mantra that usually works failed you here because of the not-funny joke. The comparisons to your feelings to the song, the slide, and the mirror resonated with me. Great poem!
Side Chick Awareness Day?? What?? That’s definitely not cool. My birthday is not all that cool either, commemorating frogs and fruit cocktail (glad I didn’t try to write on this). I think you should reinvent yours as She’s Altogether Divine Day because you are. This poem is. Altogether poignant and powerful – your poem and YOU!
Great tone….great attitude. Love the questioning later.
Angie! You have captured such emotion and attitude here. There isn’t a stanza here that doesn’t push the narrative forward, that doesn’t show us so much of who you are. We have your voice right from the start and it continues to climb from “that wasn’t cool” to that final word “maybe.” My favorite, “and usually I let shit like that slip off my shouldern, a child down a slide laughing an -I don’t care-” Love it!
I have so many questions about these days. Like about why National Ex-Spouse Day, Laundry Day, and Tax Day are back to back. GROSS. I hope someone funny writes an ode to laundry during COVID or Tax Day. 😀
National Transfer Money to Your Daughter Day HAHAHAHA
Angie, apparently my b’day falls on National Sticky Bun Day??! 😀
I was born on National Mountain Day. I’ll take it!
Scott, this prompt is simply splendid today! This could be a whole book idea, ordered by the calendar – and what a great way to keep the ink well of ideas from running dry.
Your poem had me laughing at the Hallmarkisms of greeting cards. Thank you so much for hosting us today.
My father has always written his sermons with a fountain pen – he is the sheer image of a Dickensian writer hovering over his inkwell at his antique oak desk. So the tradition of fountain pen writing with a lazier spin (no inkwell) passed to my hands.
Be Ye Transformed
All because of
my gene pool
the choice
became
critical
my pen preference
particular
the silver spoon
of a poor preacher’s kid
neither chisel
nor charcoal
on stone
or papyrus
rather
a medium nib
rich indigo ink
a selection of styles
for any occasion
the everyday best choice:
a Pilot Varsity
Disposable
Fountain Pen
wielded at a 40 degree angle
moderate pressure
on the nib
flashing like
the shield of a warrior
winning the day
National
Fountain Pen Day –
celebrated annually
since 2012
on the first Friday
of November
stories and histories
more orthodox than Bic
(cult following thick)
to celebrate:
take my hand
dare to
wade into the
fountain
be baptized
sprinkled
immersed
a fountain pen mermaid disciple
be ye transformed
https://www.fountainpenday.org/resources/blogs-websites/
Oh my, what wonderful imagery throughout the poem, Kim! I absolutely love the last two stanzas and blending of religious terms into this celebration of the fountain pen!
“a fountain pen mermaid disciple”: Love! And love this poem AND the story behind it (P.S. What is a lazier spin? )
Wendy, not using an inkwell – a disposable cartridge pen is a bit of a cheating lazy spin on my part compared to the art of injecting the ink ?
I love this ode to the fountain pen. How your genes make you particular, “the silver spoon
of a poor preacher’s kid” combined with “wade into the fountain” and “baptized disciple”. Great take on the prompt!
Kim, this is beautiful! I must confess that I jumped in without reading your “intro” first (because of the bold title) and was carried along by your rhythm and line placement (essentially your wonderful “craft” as a poet) until I realized that this was an ode to Fountain Pens — and, of course, my breath caught in my throat at this epiphany. I love pens! In my youth, I can remember the joys of receiving a package of different colored Pilot Precise V5s…ah, the memories! Upon reading your “intro” and rereading your poem, I was delighted all over again: “the nib / flashing like / the shield of a warrior” and “take my hand / dare to / wade into the / fountain / [to] be baptized.” So clever!
I absolutely love the religious conviction about
That is fabulous! I may need to check it out before the first Friday in November!
Kim – I love the exactness that you use in describing how you use the pen “40 degree angle” and “medium pressure” – clearly these are words and lessons impressed upon you that you are carrying on. I love the religious imagery of the end of the ritual. Great poem!
Kim… my pastor husband adores fountain pens (once he learned how not to get the ink all over his fingers)…again I see the more of the very same threads running through our lives; our tapestries, so similar! Wait ’til he hears there’s a National Fountain Pen Day – I can see the ink running over…:O
This is a magnificent, magnificent poem. Bic with thick cult following-! Celebration so on many levels – legacy, writing, treasuring the pen, and oh, those ending lines. Straight to my heart. Here’s my hand – I’m in.
How wonderful! I was a bit obsessed with pen and ink as a kid for a spell. I kept my nibs and ink for years and years. This poem brings back good memories.
Kim, what an extraordinary ode to the fountain pen. I love the details, the pressure on the nib, the angle, the “rich indigo ink.” I once fell into a research hole on art pencils and drafted nearly a chapter about the MC’s use of them before deleting the entire thing as it probably only fascinated me – and potentially you : )
Good Morning Writers. Thank you, Scott for the fun introduction (so glad you didn’t simply type “no”) and today’s prompt. Oh, the choices, the choices…365 choices with multiple choices each day. I looked up National Librarians Day as it’s coming up on 4/16 and Librarians are dear to my heart. I’m still working on the poem I really want to write…but this warm up to it helps prime my writing pump this morning.
On National Librarians Day
Take a moment
find a quiet place
sort through memories
of times librarians
showed the way
answered questions
made suggestions
connected you to information
that make life better for you
for all the human race.
Think thank you thoughts,
learn something new
read a good book or two.
Smile at the women
and men behind the desk
who do the work
of helping us be our best.
“Think thank you thoughts” – love the alliteration for this thank you to librarians. I also love “for all the human race” because everyone should take advantage of what librarians have to offer! I admit I didn’t do this until I was an adult.
This is positively beautiful
Think thank you thoughts,
learn something new
read a good book or two.
I love the inspiration to adopt an intentional Thanksgiving mindset! I love your choice to celebrate librarians!
Love Think thank you thoughts and how you express the long taken for granted work of librarians.
Linda, Good morning! (Thank you for the reminder that National Librarians Day is coming up.) I really love the truths that you’ve captured here: librarians really do “make life better for [us].” They really “do the work / of helping us be our best.” Thank you for writing and sharing this excellent tribute!
A lovely tribute so full of truth – and I am truly, truly thankful for librarians. The library was my natural habitat as a child.
Linda, what a perfect choice of day to celebrate! And it makes me believe students would get into this all the more. These lines are my faves as they capture the spirit of book sharing and libraries:
What an interesting challenge, Scott! And can I please say 1) How encouraging it is to know that folks still buy cards in this age and 2) How hard it is sometimes find one that isn’t overly drizzled with honey or overdone? That is not so say there aren’t any…just that the truth of your last lines linger. Makes me think there should be a day to celebrate authentic writing – but no; that should be celebrated every day.
Here’s my attempt at an ode to National Pet and National 8-Track Tape Day – thank you for this unique inspiration (and I know some of y’a’ll out there are going to “get” the reference & connective tissue):
Ode to the Day: Of Pets and Old Songs
Here’s to dogs, ambassadors of love
constant comforters, day by day
warming presence on the coldest night
even if they’re not pets
even if they’re wild
as in the Australian Aboriginal legend
of sleeping in a hole, snuggled to a dingo
and should it be freezing
it might be a three-dog night
keeping warm
Here’s to singin’ joy to the world
all the boys and girls
and to all the pets that warm their hearts
and brighten their days
—of course now that song is stuck in my head
on continuous play
like an 8-track tape
which I confess to remembering, alas—
never mind, let’s just take today to celebrate
how, in the end, all things are connected
LOL. What a great weaving together of two disparate topics. Love the song lyrics and now I am singing Joy to the World, all the boys and girls too.
Awww yea! I might not have grown up with 8 tracks but I know Three Dog Night. Jam out, Fran. Great poem connecting the two celebrations! “how, in the end, all things are connected” <3
Fran, your way of weaving words and thoughts and spinning songs and creating reflective thoughts a s putting smiles on the faces of readers is magic. You are magic. Oh, the love of dogs and retro music. Raising a cup of coffee to you this morning, thinking about my Donnie Osmond 8 track ….this is not a puppy love…?
Fran, this was a lot of fun! And, yes, alas, I can (vaguely) remember 8-track tapes as well. I loved your seamless connection between these “ambassadors of love / constant comforters” and “three dog night.” It was music to my ears! (Sorry, that was a bit cheesy, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true, lol. This is very well done.) And I also loved the truth in your end lines: “let’s take today to celebrate / how, in the end, all things are connected.”
Fran — I totally enjoyed this poem. The “3-dog night”…took me right to “One” is the loneliest number…. and it fit just right with dogs “snuggled” in to keep warm. And the “joy to the world”… an earworm for sure! This is a fun celebration all around. You seem entirely too young to know those 8-track days…LOL! Love it. Susie
Fran, this prompt is bringing out the most fun! I also have that song stuck in my head now. When my husband and I were dating, we went fishing at their cottage. I’d only fished with worms in my limited attempts. After much prep, I discovered we were using minnows, which caused me great alarm. I spent the entire fishing time singing “joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea” on repeat until he eventually called it quits! I love your ode – everything from the title to our interconnectedness.
Scott, what a load of fun this is today! Thank you for allowing us to see you as a writer, teacher, creator, and for providing a prompt that students would love to delve into as much as we will. Your “laundry basket of wrinkled, worn out words” is perfectly word-illustrated while also bringing to mind all the work involved. Your spin on roses are red – so creative. I’m off to pick up a barn beam bench! Looking forward to reading all when I return.
If I were to
mark my days
by national celebrations,
I’d wonder how
my oldest child
ended up sharing
National Oreo Cookie day
and Dentist’s Day
and the irony of that.
And how my youngest
whose Road Runner metabolism
arrived on
International No Diet Day.
Ha! What a great observation of the days. Oh, my goodness…the irony and the fun.
Sooo much irony came out of this unique prompt! Haha. So funny 🙂
Bwahahahahaha, Jennifer! This is funny irony! I love your metacognitive reflection of the way it all relates to your children. I’m an Oreo fan – my favorite cookie- but I don’t have the road runner metabolism! I hope you will share this with your kids!
Jennifer, this is great! I love the quiet reflection of this. Your “If I were to….I’d wonder” is to me the written equivalent of a small head tilt and slight brow furrowing at these ironies. So good! Thank you for this! (And I hope things go well with the barn beam bench pick up…that in itself is a bit poetic. Lol.)
Jennifer — You made me laugh at those ironies. This topic, which lends itself to the goofiest of notions, turned out to be quite sweet as you think about your kids. One you should definitely share with the kids! Susie
Surely the Oreo people and dentists were in cahoots the day your oldest was born? and the youngest never needing a diet, arriving on No Diet Day? Ironies abound! So cleverly written and so fun to read. And now I have to look up my children’s birthdays to see what oxymorons await…