Allison Berryhill is hosting February’s 5-day challenge! Allison lives in Iowa where she advises the journalism program and teaches freshman English at Atlantic High School. She is the chair of NCTE’s Public Language Awards Committee, which selects the recipients for the George Orwell and Doublespeak awards. She also serves on the board of the Iowa High School Press Association and is Publications-coordinator for the Iowa Council of Teachers of English. Her first published poem was awarded first place in the Lyrical Iowa sonnet division in 2019. Allison is also an accordion player and a wedding officiant. Follow her at @allisonberryhil for photos of #IowaSky and schoolblazing.blogspot.com for random musings.
Congratulations!
You’ve arrived at Day #2 of this month’s writing challenge!
Let me share a hint for maintaining stamina through the whole week: I never read others’ poems before I write my own. People share beautiful words here, and I run the risk of sinking into self-doubt if I compare my unwritten words to the already-written words of my fellow writers.
Allison Berryhill
Inspiration
I love this mentor poem by C. G. Hanzlicek: “What I Want Is”. It is written in a series of two line stanzas:
What I want is
Enough money
To have what I want
What I want is
My own hill
And beneath that hill
A pond…
The poem continues, taking the reader deeper into the poet’s imagination. I hope you’ll read Hanzlicek’s poem here at least twice to wrap your head around his line breaks and use of enjambment.
Process
What do you want? Use Hanzlicek’s poem as a model as you explore the longings in your heart. I encourage my students to use C. G. Hanzlicek’s style as they “sign” their poems. (I become A. L. Berryhill)
Begin with a declaration of a want, and allow your mind to explore the imagery related to your “want” with prepositional phrases: beneath that hill, in the pond, on the mud…
Consider matching Hanzlicek’s number of stanzas–or go rogue. You might conclude your poem by counting, as Hanzlicek does: Coyote 1, Coyote 2
I have used this poem as a model many times, and it never fails to elicit successful poems. In this version, I went with my fashion envy!
Allison’s Poem
What I Want Is by A. L. Berryhill
What I want is
That mouse-soft sweater
Kristina is wearing.
“You can feel it”
She offers when I
Say I like it.
What I want is
Brynna’s leafy lacy shirt
The color of ferns
Resting against mossy stones
And hair like hers
Over there
And those leggings
those boots
The cat-eye glasses
Resting on the bridge of that nose
Because English
Teachers know how
To rock Educator style
On the NCTE
Runway
Work it Work it.
Write
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
What I want is
To know I’ve made the right choices
To replay the endless paths I didn’t follow
What I want it
Security in my decisions
And no outside judgements
A smile or two of understanding
And a friend who laughs
Resting in a chair
Discussing all the books ever written
Between the repercussions of my picks
And the tears of my life
Of the love I’ve received, I
Can count myself lucky
My forest of turns
Has led me here
Where I can smell
The clouds around me
And feel the honesty
Of Truth
9:50 pm! Almost didn’t make it to day 2. Thank you for setting us up with this prompt!
What I want is
What I don’t have
Blonde, translucent strands
Fluttering weightless on shoulders
Smooth, caramel skin on thin arms
Cucumber Melon still lingering
Strappy tops that hug in all the right places
Above perfectly proportioned denim shorts
Feminine laughter turning
All heads with admiration
Friendly, sexy, easy-going way
Of life that is irresistible and addicting
This ultimate teenage dream
Dream on, dream on
Emily,
You’re speaking the universal desire of women: to have the physical characteristics we don’t have. Wonderful alliteration in “perfectly proportioned.”
Emily, I’m so glad you made it! YAY! Because I usually write poems in the evening, I’m often one of the last ones to post. I always appreciate it when writers check the previous day’s post to respond to us latecomers! I love the cucumber melon lingering–I can smell that fresh smell! Your ending of the repeated “dream on” gave me a grin!
Yes!!! The images of “perfection” yet really just the teenage dream. Truth!
“Smooth, caramel skin on thin arms
Cucumber Melon still lingering”
Wondering how young teens would respond to this, identify with it?
Thank you for bringing this back to my mind.
What I want is
stability in life
I want to belong
to a place where I can grow roots
Where I can mold
the souls of others
I want to
rise above the tides
And make
new memories
To live
even while I am existing
I want my
memories to be imprinted on the hearts of others
What I want is
to be seen for who I truly am
Melissa,
Two lines in particular resonate most w/ me:
“To live
even while I am existing”
Life so often feels like a series of motions we’re dialing in. You capture that I’m these lines.
So beautiful!
“I want to
Rise above the tides”
The emotion is stripped down and raw. I felt that I could relate to your poem about wanting to be seen. Thank you for sharing this.
I love this!
I especially love “I want my memories to be imprinted on the hearts of others.”
Oh, Melissa! I HEAR you! You have expressed a beautiful universal want: to belong; to matter. I can tell you will get there, but your poem expresses the uncertainty we’ve all experienced as we struggle to find our place (even after we’ve found it! do we ever stop asking these questions?) Thank you for your open, vulnerability in this lovely poem.
What I want is
Licorice Root and Elm Bark tea in my favorite mottled mug
What I want is
A rainy spring day
To sit beside a crackling fireplace, warmed by it’s glow
To be cozy under the loving weight of my grandmother’s handmade quilt
Wrapped in ancient love and nurtured
Given the time and space to sit, uninterrupted, mind still
And then, when the mug is empty and I am full
To place my hand on the window and smile at my children
Rain-booted and laughing in the way only children can
Splashing in puddles,sending boats racing down streams
Watch them squeeze their eyes shut, turning their faces to the sky
Catching raindrops on their tongues.
Welcome, friend! This: “cozy under the loving weight of my grandmother’s handmade quilt” and this: “Watch them squeeze their eyes shut, turning their faces to the sky” –what wonderful imagery! I love the FEELS of this poem, Haley. I’m cozying right under that quilt with you. Your word choice is exquisite: mottled; mug is empty and I am full; rain-booted. I am just tickled you made time to write with us here! I am now going to zip over to yesterday’s prompt and read another poem by you!
Your images are exquisite – “rain booted children” . . .”turning their faces to the sky Catching raindrops on their tongues.”
So many words to love in your poem, but this is my favorite –
“To be cozy under the loving weight of my grandmother’s handmade quilt
Wrapped in ancient love and nurtured”
There’s absolutely nothing better than the love in a handmade quilt. And wrapped in ancient love says it al
Wooooooow! This is incredibly precious, like a picture book waiting to be printed. I adore this poem. Sorry I’m late seeing it. I would’ve loved to have read it before going to bed, surely it would’ve given me sweet dreams.
If I were an artist, this would be today’s painting.
“Wrapped in ancient love and nurtured
Given the time and space to sit, uninterrupted, mind still”
What I want is
To feel better
For this virus to
Run its course quickly
To be able to think,
To feel, to write, clearly
I want to walk more than
Twenty steps without coughing
To straighten up the house
Without napping
Is this too much to ask?
Perhaps so,
For a teacher in February
Oh, Mo! Thank you for turning your misery into such a lovely little poem! I KNOW how awful it is to feel muddy-headed from a cold. Your desire to walk more than 20 steps without coughing was maybe my favorite line: it is through the specific we capture the universal! Your frustration (Is this too much to ask?) is palpable!
Mo — There you are! I was missing you, and now I see that you’ve been struggling with a blasted virus. So sorry! You are a dedicated teacher…and February is, indeed, the most brutal! Hang in there, Mo! You’ve created, despite the tugging pull of that virus, a poem that has me reacting with a a wish that you could quickly grab steps without coughs, a few household routines without needing to get horizontal, and clarity of thought, you po thang. Hang in there! Get as much rest as you can. Susie
Oh no Mo!!!! No mo’ virus for Mo! I’m so sorry to read that you’re sick. Your poem tells me you’ll be fine in no time. Being too sick to write would mean we need to send help. Thank you for writing even though you need to rest.
No straightening the house! Wait for March!
?
Dear Mo,
I am so sorry you are ill. Sickness is particularly hard on teachers and moms. The work must get done. I hope tomorrow you’ll be able “ To be able to think, / To feel, to write, clearly.” Get well!
This was amazing! I love the way the words tumbled out of my mouth as I read your lines. Being ill is so tough – especially for a teacher. My favorite line is “is this too much to ask?”
Hi Mo, hope your poem cheer you up. Such an interesting way to look it.
Allison, thanks for your encouraging words. Here I am, squeezing in my next attempt just before dinner (definitely earlier than yesterday’s delayed middle of the night attempt).
What I Want Is by R. E. Behnke
What I want is
enough time
to read the books
I want to read
A porch swing squeaks as
my feet push to and fro, keeping
Summer time. A mountain of books
surrounds the swing, stacks
lean precariously close, my toes
push to and fro, keeping
Summer time. On the forward swing I
pluck the chosen, clasping one
in each hand,
book 19, book 20.
Ah-ha! I love the counting of books in your closing line! I, too, want summer on the forward swing! I hear that porch swing and feel that summer sun! Thank you for this gift of imagery that all the book lovers here can savor!
Ooh! I love the repetition of keeping summer time. And what a perfect, tangible close! Thank you for this. In winter. Ha ha !
Ramona, I love the front porch swing, surrounded by books on a summer day! Oh, how I wish it were summer!
Ramona,
This is a lovely homage to my favorite childhood reading place, the porch swing. I can hear the squeaking swing keeping time to the turning of the pages.
Allison,
I love both yesterday’s 20 question prompt and today’s “What I Want” prompt. They are both so accessible to students, too, so I’ll send them to my former colleagues and prompt them to write with their students. Moments when I learn a new teaching idea are moments I miss being in the classroom. I love the celebration of students in your poem and recall being invited to feel a clothing item I admired, such as the “mouse soft sweater.” And “the cat-eyed glasses” nudge me to smile. I’ve had many glasses exchanges with students, usually when either I or the student sports a new pair. Is it a universal trait of teachers so admire in our students characteristics we long to see in ourselves? I’ve known so many students whose brilliance and kindness take my breath away.
–Glenda
What I want is
a bay window,
a pile of books,
an espresso machine,
and time that stretches
and curls into corners.
What I want is crepes
nutella and fruit piled high
and I’d read
then eat
then repeat
and be warm
and happy
in my bay window.
Lauren,
Yes! Let’s curl and stretch like a cat in a window, and let’s read, eat, repeat. You can keep the Nutella! I tried to like it. Really, I did. Favorite image: “time that stretches / and curls into corners.”
Lauren,
So much of this resonates with me “bay window” and “pile of books” and “espresso machine” (which would be divine, indeed). Love the economy of syllables here and the assonance that gives it music in read and eat and repeat and be and happy — ah the music of want.
Peace,
Sarah
Another fellow book lover wanting a pile of books and time to read them. My first draft had a plate of homemade cookies and a tall glass of cold milk on the table beside the swing, but I deleted it. Love your crepes and read, eat, repeat, be warm and happy refrain.
Lauren, THANK you so much for writing here again today! I really truly hope you get that bay window someday! I love how rhyme sneaks in with “read /then eat/then repeat. I love how “a bay window” becomes “my bay window” at the end. (Favorite line: “time that stretches
and curls into corners.”) XO!
Lauren,
My favorite lines are “and time that stretches / and curls into corners.” Time. Yes. I want that, too.
I want to be in your bay window, too! The espresso machine part brought the scent of coffee right to my nose. The image and experience you drew for us in your poem were so real and tangible. I would love a spot as peaceful as you describe.
What I Want Is by S.E. Ingalls
What I want is
A personal assistant.
More than that.
I want
Every mundane drudgery,
Every tiresome errand,
Every necessary phone call,
anticipated.
“I need that important document scanned and sent to the CPA…”
“Done”
“I need you to go to the store and pick up some eggs, lentils, chicken stock…”
“Done”
“I need to pay for the online driver’s education class…”
“Done”
“My wife asked me to…”
“Done”
“And my son…”
“Done”
Then, I guess
I can relax and,
Perhaps,
Write a poem.
I wish you could hear me snapping my fingers the entire time I was reading this.
There are so many demands on our time, but few lead toward fulfillment and joy. You’ve captured the rhythm of a day in the life of so many.
Shaun,
This is so much fun! Love the dialogue and the idea of replacing the mundane with writing poetry is a special idyllic desire. The parallelism and repetition of “every” in “Every mundane drudgery, /Every tiresome errand,/Every necessary phone call,/anticipated.” reinforce the mundane you long to replace.
Yesss! Love this, Shaun. I think the key here is “every….anticipated.” I am not good at delegating or even being able to articulate all that needs to be done. My mind has ideas and to-dos and wishes floating and colliding in tornadoes and hurricanes. To feel “done” would be….ahhhhmazing.
Much gratitude for your presence and poeming,
Sarah
Love this more than I can express! What would we do with this kind of assistance everyday? I can only imagine. Yes, we could all relax and write a poem.
Thank you!
Oh, Shawn, I let out an audible “Awwww!” when I read your final stanza! I love how your list of drudgy chores rings so true. I bet you didn’t have to make a single one up! I also love how the “Done” comes faster and faster, answering even before you’ve voiced your want. This is a gem. Thank you.
“What I want is” by SMB
What I want is
More time to
Create more of
What I want to
With motivation
To spark that light
To want it to
Turn into a need
To drive the calm
Excitement of
Finishing and curating
My ideas into
A product of inspiration
To satisfy my wants
OOOoo, Stephanie — That reads like a smooth riff. I like that tempo of this when I read it aloud. My favorite: “…curating/My ideas…” Lovely! May that “time” come knocking on your door! Susie
This has quite a rhythm and the ideas are focused and simple (yet complex). 🙂
Love “To spark that light”
My mind went to a similar place with this prompt. I love the quick rhythm you’ve created here and can certainly relate to your desire to create something that feeds your own energy and joy.
Stefani,
This poem really speaks to me. Here I am in the early months of retirement w/ more time to “Create more of / What I want to” but laking the “motivation / to spark that light” unless there’s a force, such as this challenge, pushing me. It must “Turn into a need.” I get it.
Stefani, I love how your “want” (time to create) is fulfilled in your creation of this poem! The motivation, the spark, the creation, the curation…you did it here! Thank you for this treat of a poem for all of the creators out here!
What I Want…. by Seana HW
What I want is to go back
to when they were 5 and 6 years old
I want the close hugs and snuggles on the couch
to watch Elmo for the hundredth time and hear
the Sesame Street song sung over and over again
What I want is to read Hop on Pop
and The Snowy Day to them repeatedly
and to hear, “Can we listen to Harry Potter?”
What I want to hear is, “Mommy, I’m a big girl
and I read all my sight words today in class”
I want the big hug and excitement when
I pick them up from first grade
What I want is to lavishly pour from the pink bottle
and see the look on their faces when they see the mountain of bubbles
in the tub and they ask, “Can you wash my back?”
What I REALLY want……. is to know their secrets
now that they’re gorgeous independent young women
with jobs, besties, social media accounts, and dates
What I REALLY REALLY want is my present
peace of mind and the 35 year-old body I had then.
Yessss! You are so right with this one because any of us who’ve watched our children grow up, long for these special close times together. I see you, your girls, the books, the pink bubble bath, and the beautiful grown up young ladies you have loved into womanhood!
They’re blessed to have a mom like you!
I relate to so many of your wonderful details from having two daughters about the same age. Wouldn’t it be nice to have those times back that we sadly didn’t always appreciate at the time?
Thanks for capturing so many things I feel!
Oh, Seana! The line “can you wash my back” shows such a sense of intimacy that is echoed in the line “secrets now that they’re gorgeous independent”! Such a sense of mind and body in these shared spaces that oozes love and respect for being and becoming!
Sarah
Seana, I LOVE the bubble bath stanza: lavishly pour from the pink bottle…those faces! You’ve captured tender, specific moments so lovingly–then left us with a grin at the end as you long for your own 35-year-old body! This was delightful!
Seana, thank you for your poem. I appreciate the stanza about big girl and hugs–thinking of how we/our culture defines what a big girl does and how kids interpret this too. I fear the lack of peace of mind as my kids get older and love that you added that descriptor.
Sean’s—all of the above!!! Elmo for the hundredth time is exactly what I want now. And my 35 year old body!!!
Oh … This one. The perspective is everything. I have 4 children under 10. It’s so easy to want to rush the bath, the reading, the swooning and praise for every picture drawn. I was short tempered tonight. Your poem reminds me, I’ll miss this all too soon. I have to remember to relish it. And today, while I’m missing my 25 year-old body, to remember that in 10 years I’ll miss the one I’m living in now.
You made me tear up because I remember Hop on Pop and The Snowy Day. Time flies so fast, but we have your open to commentate the memories for years to come! Thanks for the memories.
How Much Is Enough?
What I want is time.
Will I have enough?
What I want is time.
Time to read more
Time to write more
Time to listen more
Time to speak more
What I want is time.
The Bible says our days are numbered.
What is my number?
What I want is time.
There are places to go.
There are people to see.
There are things to do.
What I want is time.
The Bible says threescore and ten.
I’m past that already.
I’m in my bonus years.
Will I have enough time?
Enough for what, I wonder.
I wish for more time to read poems. Time is always something I chase and never seem to catch.
Oh, Anna. What is my number? How much time is enough? All that is counted and yet defies measurement. Every word uttered and heard by you is beyond quantity.
Anna, “I’m in my bonus years” spoke to me, as did “Enough for what, I wonder.” You’ve got me thinking of how I use time–greedily, insouciantly, prodigally. Your return to the Bible for answers to your questions added a connecting element. Thank you so much for using a bit of your time to write with us today!
Anna, I love the poignant moment when the speaker asks “what is my number?”
So thoughtful. The repetition of “The Bible says” really ignites my inner voice and joins the conversation.
Strong message – carpe diem!
“Enough for what, I wonder.” I love this line. After spending much of this weekend on schoolwork, I wonder whether I’m really spending my time in a way that I’ll look back on and be happy about. What do I make time for? What does that say about who I am? Lots of thoughts have been stirred!
What I Want Is by J. A. Hicks
What I want is
Strong verbs
Asserting what I want
What I want is
My own voice
And beyond its sound
A name
In the sea of a million
Opinions or ideas
And the articulation
Reading between the lines
Of the active infinitive
Infinitely contending with
Distraction or disillusion
To inspire where I
Can stir the pot of hope
To shed light
To shine love
And highlight the positive
Inflection of first-person
Or second and third
Passionately present
“Reading between the lines of the active infinitive” rolls around so nicely.
Jolie, your lines,
To inspire where I
Can stir the pot of hope
speak for most of us. It is the hope that seems to be missing in so many settings.
Jolie, this poem is an English teacher’s dream! Your message to be heard, to have a voice, is joyfully WORD crafted to deliver line after line of pun and wordplay. I LOVE THIS!
All those ?english terms scattered amongst your wants—brilliant! My favorite line— A name
In the sea of a million
Opinions or ideas
Jolie,
Are you feeling the love here! I feel the light and love that you are shedding for us on this February Sunday, and I stir a pot of rice for dinner and imagine it is the hope that you call for in this poem!
Peace,
Sarah
I love your poem and especially these words:
“To inspire where I
Can stir the pot of hope
To shed light
To shine love
We need the pot of hope more than ever. Glad you’re there inspiring, shedding light, and shining love.
Jolie,
This is a wonderful poem. I love the attention to grammar and how words function in syntactical structures. So clever these lines:
“And highlight the positive
Inflection of first-person
Or second and third
Passionately present”
All of it, really, is spectacular.
Good Morning! This was another fun prompt that allowed me to take a mental journey into a beautiful space. Thank you, Allison.
What I Want…
Stacey L. Joy
What I want is
A backyard with a lap pool
For daily swims and summer luxuries
What I want is
Two chocolate Australian Labradoodles
Who wait for me each morning
Through my garden path, we walk
Up to the clearing on the sunlit hill
Where the ocean view welcomes us
Before I sit on my meditation mat
Basking in gratitude and blessings
Giving God all praise and thanks
For sunshine, salty breezes, and lavender
For intentional breathing, and stillness, and joy
What I want is
Peace that surpasses all understanding
That shields and guides my path
Back to my home where love abides
Where journals and books await my hands
Where inspiration flows beside the fountain at my back door
Where I write, read, and live the way I want
Have what I want and when I want it.
When I first saw this and after yesterday’s poem, I fully expected to see “firm thighs and a tight butt!”
Your word choice sets the peaceful tone of this piece. “Basking in gratitude and blessings…intentional breathing, and stillness, and joy.”
Where journals and books await my hands
Where inspiration flows beside the fountain at my back door
Where I write, read, and live the way I want
Have what I want and when I want it.
This is what I want too – every reader and writer’s dream.
Thanks Leigh Anne! OMG I didn’t even think about wanting a tight butt and firm thighs, shucks! I guess I’ll have to wait and see what the rest of the prompts behold. LOL.
Sigh…..yeah. That. All of it.
I am right next to you with my yoga mat in hand waiting for that lovely lavender scent and the sense of peace. Ah! Namaste!
Stacey Joy, posting these lines on a Sunday is going to make those who know the Christian Bible send you to it! The fact that you know this line suggests you know the Source. Am I right? It’s Sunday, so I feel okay mentioning this in public. :-). WIshing you well as you seek answers. 🙂
What I want is
Peace that surpasses all understanding
That shields and guides my path
Back to my home where love abides
Philippians 4:7 was my mantra after being raped at 18 then it saved my sanity during my tumultuous marriage and divorce. I wasn’t sure what you meant by “posting these lines on a Sunday is going to make those who know the Christian Bible send you to it.” Am I
misunderstanding or do I need further explanation?
I wrote my poem with no thought at all about my favorite scripture, it just happens that way sometimes because it’s in my heart and that’s where my words come from before they land on the page.
Hugs!
Stacey,
I love your poem and want most of those same understandings. I love these lines, ” peace that passes.., write read and live the way I want, sunshine, salty breezes and lavender, summer luxuries”
You caused me to remember a phenomenal trip to Hawaii. Thanks
Stacey, I like the line: Peace that surpasses all understanding. It makes me think of metacognition and how humans have trouble clearing their minds from thought to find this “peace.”
I hope you find this setting one day!
Stefani
Stacey, I love what you have done with Hanzlicek’s model and form. I am with you on the hill, smelling the salty breezes, steeped in gratitude for the stillness. This is so lovely. Thank you.
Aah, yes, Stacey — I’m feeling that good place and it gives me a giggle… places that make us feel great. I love that lookout spot with the dogs and seeing out to the ocean (delicious!)! And that power voice of yours is so clear in those last couple lines: “…the way I want/have what I want and when I want it.” You bet! You have a command of the peace around you in this poem… that “meditation mat” sets you in such a good place of control yet giving over yourself to peace. Lovely. Happy Sunday, my friend! Susie
Stacey,
what a beautiful place you took me to! I never want to leave that meditative place!
Stacey,
You have created a heaven on earth w/ your words. The lap pool, labradoodles, a view of the ocean, sunshine, journals, books, all of this creates an Edenic place of peace.
What I want is
enough heart
to remember B1148
What I want is
a railroad car
and in that car
an inherited history
on a track that ends in a field
of bigotry
imagined by man beside
a pond
In the pond ashes
Michael’s family
and Ruth’s, too
Barracks of women
and prayers for children
A demanding legacy
in the crumbling crematorium
between the tracks
and the pond
of ashes where
memories stir and I
walk in the dust
to carry their stories
______________________________________________
to the two-thirds of millennials who cannot identify what Auschwitz is
to the fifty-eight percent who believe something like the Holocaust could happen again
to the antisemitic incidents that doubled from 2015 to 2019
to the teachers who will bring the poems, memoirs, documentaries, and novels to our children who hopefully never have to hide between dead bodies in barracks to survive
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/04/12/two-thirds-of-millennials-dont-know-what-auschwitz-is-according-to-study-of-fading-holocaust-knowledge/
The part below the lines is not really part of the poem but where I would like to go in this imagined rail car filled with ashes before they are dust in the wind, forgotten.
Oh, the strength and power in your words! The choices of sifting dissipation – crumbling, ashes, dust – and memories stirring in that dust through the carried stories. It takes heart to carry these stories, so much heart, and yet, it’s necessary (and unbelievable that there are those who don’t believe). Thank you for giving voice to those lost and wanting that inherited history.
Sarah,
This is beautiful and haunting. You must have watched “CBS Sunday Morning.” As the facades crumble, it is our responsibility to “walk in the dust / to carry their stories.” This poem is an echo of Ellie Wiesel’s words.
Yes! I was watching it, and I was remembering two winters ago when we were in Auschwitz and stood at the end of those railroad tracks. I just want to reverse all those cattle cars that went into the camps.
This poem set me back on my heels. I think the “to the…” phrases at the end of the poem really do ground it in some disturbing statistics…and become a part of it. “Enough heart.” Yes, indeed. We need that these days. So much, we need heart. The identifying text in this poem that ties it to the holocaust are subtle…but there…evidence that cannot be ignored; tattoo numbers, Michael’s family, Ruth’s family, crematorium, tracks, train car. Well done. I hope this finds a larger audience.
Wow! I “walk in the dust / to carry their stories” resonates within my heart, effectively expressing how I feel as I introduce Ellie Wiesel to high school freshman, who cannot distinguish between fact and fiction because it’s so horrible to believe it as truth. We must remember “B1148,” and his/her friends, family, and foes who demand the legacy with their scars. I choose to face reality, rather than pretending to be clueless. Thanks for the reminder. invisibility.
Sarah, the way you craft your poem so succinctly around the humongous depth of history, pain, and loss is incredible. The courage you have in asking for “enough heart” and wanting to “walk in the dust/to carry their stories” speaks of the woman, teacher, human you are.
Again, I sit still after reading your poem, saying wow.
Sarah — These are powerful words, a gut-punch to double us over in our obligation to never forget, to never not tell and retell the godless stories of those lost in man’s capacity to destroy women, children, men …and for what? Wow, Sarah, this is a very moving poem. And the added grim statistics press the urgency that we remain vigilant in our memory. So important for all of us. Whoof. Thank you! Susie
Powerful response to the prompt. The pond of ashes where I walk to carry their stories. We must tell the story.
After 32 years of teaching a Holocaust unit, I am so drawn to your words. I’m hoping with one of the poem inspirations soon, I can crawl out of my own mind/life and write about other things that mean so much to me like you did with this captivating poem.
Sarah, the emotion power in this poem with minimal words is fabulous. Thank you for also sharing the link and I love that you have addressed it to them.
Sarah, again and again your poems touch me profoundly. Thank you for using this form to remind me to have “enough heart” to teach bravely and ethically. (And I loved how you brought in the pond from the model poem–)
Sarah, your lines
What I want is
enough heart
to remember B1148
What I want is
a railroad car
and in that car
an inherited history
challenge me to stay sensitive to despicable things done to other humans. Without the reminders of events like Holocaust Memorials and Museums, Women’s, Hispanic and Black History Month celebrations, it would be easy to just forget.
Poems like yours do just that – remind us to remember.
Thanks.
What I Want
By G. Sands
What I want
Is an immaculate house
With sparkling windows
Gleaming hardwood floors, recently waxed
Dishes artfully stacked in scrubbed cupboards,
Granite counters, essential items in the corners
Leaving ample space for my (gourmet) cooking.
I want
Clothing hung by season, color, and sleeve length
shoes and boots in tidy rows
according to heel height and intent
Curated so that each can be worn
With five other pieces planned to be on point
For at least five years of wear.
I want
A deep tub,
Jets of water bubbling on demand
Lavender and chamomile bath salts at the ready,
Clouds of perfumed air available to soothe my soul.
I want a dressing table…
Sculptured bottles, hand-picked for
Every facet of my epidermal needs
Arrayed soldiers waiting to report
For facial maintenance duty.
My signature scent stands at attention, primed
to transport me to exotic climes.
Stop right here.
The me I know would never be able to manage this life.
What I have…
A house cluttered with books and things and cats,
a poorly house-trained dog and husband,
dishes waiting to be put away
Humor, love, and joy.
That’s what I want.
I was right with you through all of this, saying yes! yes! yes! especially to the curated clothing for five years of wear, but I was most with you at the end, with all the chaos and clutter, the love, and the joy. As much as the perfect is desired, the real happiness, the real life living happens in what we have.
Amen and amen! I was right there with you walking through the closet and admiring the shiny floors and saluting those soldiers ready to scrub my face, and ready to be lost in a whirlpool with aromatic jets, though. It was fun for the thoughts…..but thank goodness we’re writing in the good company of our animals in our lived-in homes and not Cinderellaing our Sunday away!
What we think we want and what we actually have cannot be compared because as you mentioned, I have what I want: “Humor, love, and joy,” even though the price for those precious nouns is clutter, books, “a poorly house-trained dog and husband.” Therefore, I will do as you demand, and “Stop right here.” Thanks for sharing. I love your clean dreams, dressing tables with your “signature scent,” standing” at attention. Now, you have my attention.
Good morning Gayle! Looks to me like you’ve been hiding in my mind to visualize the house that goes in front of the backyard I wrote about this morning. I lovvvvvvve this!
“Clouds of perfumed air available to soothe my soul…/
Arrayed soldiers waiting to report
For facial maintenance duty.
My signature scent stands at attention, primed
to transport me to exotic climes…”
And then you remind me that this lavish lifestyle means LOADS of maintenance! Thank you for grounding me, as I sit here with dust, cat, and trash that the daughter has yet to take out!
“Humor, love, and joy.
That’s what I want.”
And that is what we have!! BEAUTIFUL.
Gayle,
I’m sure most of us want what you described. Your dream home sounds like mine especially the closet. You definitely read my mind. And you’re right, all we really need is humor, love, and joy. Thanks for painting such a vivid picture. Your descriptions were perfect.
DITTO! When it’s all said and done, we could have the things in the earlier stanza, but enjoy none of them without your closing lines,
“Humor, love, and joy.
That’s what I want.”
“Arrayed soldiers waiting to report
For facial maintenance duty” –I laughed out loud!
Line after line of your poem sparkled with just-right details. I loved how the clothes will be on point for at least five years! What a great fantasy!
I also loved the way a “poorly house-trained dog and husband” line brought the fantasy to a screeching halt! This was a delight!
The turn is so, so good. And that play — a poorly house-trained dog and husband. Funny and witty and true. I loved it.
Allison, I’ve loved both prompts these last two days and the success they offer to all writers. The richness of the leafy lace of moss and ferns is beautiful! I want to live in that color. The tangiblity of the mouse-soft sweater is inviting. I can only imagine what this NCTE runway is all about.
I agree! These are fun and engaging prompts that make me wonder how all my friends aren’t beating down the door to be here writing with us. These kinds of prompts and inspirations are pure oxygen! Thank you, Allison!
Thank you so much, Kim! I know anyone is invited to write in whatever form feels right, but it IS fun to see how working from the same prompt we can go in so many directions! THANK you for being here! <3
NCTE is the National Council of Teachers of English 🙂 It is at the convention that I see all these gorgeous English teachers!
Allison—I want to echo their praise and thanks. These have been fun, and the “walk-through” with hints about the process is great! Looking forward to the rest of the week!
I have to give a nod to Sarah whose FB post linking to our mentor text provided the spark for this poem.
“ I Want Good Poems“
What I want is good poems
Poems with iambs beating
In tune with mother earth’s heart
Poems with metaphors
that make humans feel all shook up
I want poems
Of sound and sense
Signifying something, everything
Poems to keep my soul company
On long summer nights
When fireflies light my path and
Poems to blanket brittle emotions
On cold winter days
When Death nips at the windowpane.
I want Poems to share and save
When the little white bird
With freedom wings humming
Hovers over my windowsill,
Buzzing its siren song
Of Intimations on immortality
Through children who sing
Prophetic syllables
Longing to breathe and beat
Life into this blue marble.
—Glenda Funk
You have captured my poet’s heart here. All of the images (freedom wings, siren song, prophetic syllables) are beautifully chosen and the sounds – lambs beating with mother earth’s heart, wings humming, buzzing – lull and create energy simultaneously. I love that ending – the syllables breathing and beating life into this blue marble!
Good poems…. with iambs, with metaphors, with sound and sense, to keep a soul company, to blanket brittle emotions, to share and save….Glenda, what a treasure a good poem
Is – one that invites us to chew on thoughts awhile and return and find something else to chew on….I adore this, and I find myself looking back over the year at our writing and rereading all the good poems in our community of both like-gened and diverse friends! You said it well!
Glenda,
I so love this want and wish and know so many are doing their part to craft and inspire poems to share.
I love these lines especially:
When the little white bird
With freedom wings humming
Hovers over my windowsill,
Buzzing its siren song
The music of your words is alive. I can hear the song and want to feel the freedom breeze from the wings humming.
Peace,
Sarah
Glenda, this is what I need to have at my fingertips when someone asks for a poem about poems. PERFECTION! I especially love (mostly the S’s for alliteration):
“I want poems
Of sound and sense
Signifying something, everything
Poems to keep my soul company
On long summer nights…
Such a beauty!
iambs beating
in tune with mother earth’s heart. Wow! How lovely.
Poems to blanket brittle emotions…yes.
this blue marble
Beautifully woven words
I am feeling this same sense or desire for more poems. There cannot be enough. “with freedom wings” let’s carry these poems to our children and watch them gather strength to fly.
I love, love, love the subtle references to other poems, or at least I’m thinking they are there. You’re so skilled that maybe your words just sound like other great poets!
Hi Susan,
Yes, the allusions are there. You are so kind. My head is swelling now.
Glenda — Your poem feels so much like a celebration … writing poems is an amazing act, and you’ve captured the thrill of that…those bits and pieces that come together for images that want to bubble-up from our writerly intents. You have given us a poem of “sound and sense” with “humming” and “hovers” and “buzzing” and “sing…syllables” and “breathe and beat…” My favorite is the idea of “metaphors that make humans feel all shook up.” Indeed! Thanks! Susie
OOOOHhhh, Glenda! This is a sensuous treat! I, too, want Good Poems! And yours is one of them! Iambs beating…all shook up…Poems to blanket brittle emotions. Line after line sings with imagery. Beautiful.
I have to admit—the first time I read it, I saw LAMBS beating in tune with Mother Earth’s heart and thought what an interesting metaphor that was!?.
I love the lines:
Poems to blanket brittle emotions
On cold winter days
When Death nips at the windowpane.
The alliteration flows and I can practically feel Death nipping at the windowpanes. Wonderful imagery!
What I want is
my yesterdays
feet peddling rapidly
as our bikes fly over country roads
the dust churning up behind us
leaving memory trails
of ten, eleven, twelve
those long summer days
spent lost inside
paper stories
fingers curled and grasping
hold of characters
so real they sat alongside me
whispered their stories
in my ear
companions on my exploration
through the woods
their lives budding
into being in early springs
or drifting behind me
like strewn leaves
settling along fall paths
as I left their worlds behind
moving on to another
one filled with
melting ice cream caught
by pink tongues
just before splotches formed
on sidewalks
outside the ice cream parlor
and rows of candy
lined atop the shelves
of the local drug store
the owner’s son a classmate
for all of the years of childhood
before we left those days behind
and our yesterdays
became todays.
by JG Jowett
Jennifer, those bikes churning memories and the ice cream dripping and the candy….the candy! Specifically: chocolate Now and Laters that never waited til later and plain M&Ms that didn’t either …. Everything that was appealing to me as a kid and still is, is in your poem today! Thanks for the bike ride down memory lane…../
There is something so sweet about writing from our yesterday’s point of view. It’s refreshing! I love how easily you took me into your yesterdays. I can see you flying on your bike over those country roads. Loved this:
“the dust churning up behind us
leaving memory trails
of ten, eleven, twelve
those long summer days”
Memory trails. Perfect.
And “Just before splotches formed on sidewalks” was the story of my life with ice cream as a child. Couldn’t they ever just push that cream farther down into that cone???
Thank you for this poem. I am enjoying being back to yesterday with you.
How wonderful! You took me right back to my denim banana seat bicycle…riding to the store for candy…Mr. Sanford waiting for us to pick up just the perfect mix as he was trying to close up shop. Oh, the patience of that man. I’d love to step back into a yesterday…and you let me. What a gift.
Beautiful images of childhood!
Jennifer — This was a fun “pedal” back in time, each image bringing a simpler time with so much delight. My favorite lines are those that took me to your young reading… “paper stories” and “characters/ so real they sat alongside me/ whispered their stories/.” And I like the notion of “our yesterdays/became todays.” The couplets move at a pace much like the whoosh of those years. Thanks for taking us to such a lovely place. Susie
Jennifer—I cannot choose a favorite line from this! What a beautiful picture of those magical years. It makes me want to go back and try them again. Maybe I would appreciate them more this time…
JG, I loved this image: “dust churning up behind us
leaving memory trails.” Line after line in this poem conjures sharp memories of childhood pleasure. This was a treat to read.
Thank you Allison for another wonderful mentor text.
What I Want
by L. A. Eck
What I want is
A sign of spring
To wash away
Winter’s salt
What I want is
Longer days filled
With sunshine
To kiss the tips
Of the daffodils peaking
From beneath the frozen ground
To nudge the buds
From their winter nap
To fully awoke
tulip 1, tulip 2
Leigh Ann,
I love your wants and share the need and anticipate of seeing tulip 1, tulip 2. I love these lines;
To kiss the tips
Of the daffodils peaking
Such an adorable image of intimacy with nature, with spring.
Sarah
Wash ..salt/ kiss..tips/ nudge..buds – love the internal rhyme and the daffodils as colorful signs of spring! I’d like a sign too – currently in Georgia it is rainy and cold, so I’m indoors fireside. Those daffodils and tulips in a window would be a welcome smile! Love this imagery.
That first sign of spring is so powerful (we are suddenly getting snow after an empty January) and you offer it to us hear. Beautifully. Washing away winter’s salt – so lovely. But I especially love sunshine kissing the tips. It’s the gentle nudge we all need and visualize right now.
Oh, yes! Ready to kiss tulips here too….and count along with you. 3, 4, 5, 6…
We have the signs of spring here about 5 weeks early this year. So I am concerned about what these signs mean. I was once surprised by spring. Now it is here in February. Not really a good sign.
What a sweet, short poem focused outward! I love the sound of “To nudge the buds.”
So much beautiful language.
Leigh Anne, you must live in a place similar to Western Michigan. It’s that time of year when the thrill of fall color shows have faded and the excitement of snow-covered trees has dimmed. We’re ready for
Longer days filled
With sunshine
To kiss the tips
Of the daffodils peaking
From beneath the frozen ground
To nudge the buds
From their winter nap
I don’t feel so bad knowing I’m not alone with these longings for Spring!
What I Want by A.J. Guldin
What I want
Is to return
For an hour to
Each February 16
Of the past
6 years to cuddle
The little boy on
His last day being
An infant, being
1, 2, 3, 4 years old
Then to return to
This last day at 5
To hear each giggle
Again to feel
His fingers curl
Around mine growing
Longer and stronger
His changing voice
As he says
Mommy
Aimee,
I loved your poem. It inspired my poem that I’m still composing. I love the idea of going back to the early days before my fabulous daughters were young adults. Thank you!!!
Oh, so beautiful. This is a heart-tugger to be sure. I didn’t remember I wanted this too until I read your piece and now it is all I can want. Thanks for reminding us how special each of those days are, captured within the years.
Now that’s just beautiful! I love the images of cuddling, but what really gets me is the changing of voice in saying mommy. Imagine if you recorded that for 30 years and spliced it all together…..we’d all be in tears listening to it! Powerful imagery here today!
Aimee,
Am I reading this right, “last day of being” as in your child passed at the age of 5? If so, I am so sorry for your loss. Thank you for introducing us to his giggle and fingers curl. We remember him today in your poem.
Peace,
Sarah
Thankfully, I still have him. He just turns 6 tomorrow, so this is his last day at 5.
So glad to hear this. Treasure every second of 5, indeed.
I read it that way, too, Sarah, and I was feeling crushed. Thank you for addressing it.
So did I and I am glad I read the comments to clear up my tears. Thank you for this poem Aimee.
Oh, my, how time flies when children are growing and changing. You yearn for these years, but the ones to come are great, too. Hang on!
Aimee,
very sweet image. It reminded me of all those sweet moments that seem a million years distant.
I love the feeling of “his fingers curl around mine” – strong sense memory there!
Oh, A.J., this is such a strong tug at my heart! I love how you used today, this special day, as the spark for your poem. I love “seeing” your son’s hand curling around yours, growing. Happiest of Feb. 16s to you!
Aimee,
I have a February baby, too, so this is really special to me. “His fingers curl around mind growing.” That’s such a tender image.
OURS
What I want is for this country to care more
about its future than today’s money,
today’s fast grab
at a chunk of change
that will never be enough
as it slips like water though fingers;
what I want is a legislature
elected by we the people
and not money manipulating corporations
and special interest donors
in sterilized spheres
so masterful in negating
the deep, capacious colors
of our American palette;
what I want is water and air
we can trust,
un-mercuried tuna,
polar paws on steady ice,
respect to all our neighbors,
to every single sistah
without first measuring
net worth;
what I want are leaders
not stealthily groping
for a past mythology,
nor cruelly erasing
the “common”
in the common good;
but more than anything,
what I want is for truth
to be the truth
and ours
to matter
more
than
mine.
by Susie Morice ©
I want this too! This really speaks to me in these present times.
oh-my-gosh, YES! I need this like a gulp of water when I’m quenched….like air on the last lap of a swim…like now. I really like how you go from wide lines with many words to that single word, “mine.”
Susie, you always go straight for the heart! And you nailed it throughout but especially here:
masterful in negating
the deep, capacious colors
of our American palette;
what I want is water and air
we can trust,
un-mercuried tuna,
polar paws on steady ice,
Those lines speak to all people, to our animals – and I love, love that steady ice – and moves on down to the common good. That palette is so symbolic of the OURS, not mine interests that get ignored and overlooked when egocentrism operates in full force. You simply nailed it!
Susie, we want this so much too! I love the title and how you move from ours to mine in that last stanza, how you focus on common in the good, the polar paws showing us exactly what is happening. They symbolism of the deep capacious colors of our American palette being negated resonates.
Amen! I want all this, too, and I wish we’d hear more poetry and vision like this in the debates.
I love how poetry can move hearts but also minds as you use language that instructs without being didactic that plants images and beings at the heart of the wants:
un-mercuried tuna,
polar paws on steady ice,
Peace,
Sarah
Susie,
Your poem says all I want so well. I thought about writing down this same road today, but I say so much I read in your poem and worried no one would want to hear me again. Yes, “I want…truth to be truth.” I too “want water and air we can trust.” We are a nation easily manipulated. Favorite line: “the deep, capacious colors / of our American palette;” Thank you for saying what’s on my mind. Love it!
Susie,
This is PERFECT!!
I just want to post this all over every form of social media so it can spread and become true.
You are such a skilled writer who can put her keen thoughts and insights into words beautifully!
And once again I feel guilty for focusing on a clean house when there are much bigger things to want! (Not really guilty, but you know what I mean!). This poem says all things I have been thrashing around about, but can’t figure out how to change. I just hope it can change.
Susie, your choice of words in the closing lines shows us the power of the pronoun. When it’s all said and done
what I want is for truth
to be the truth
and ours
to matter
more
than
mine.
Do share your poem in other venues. More of us need to hear/read how succinctly one can summarize the need for today!
Susie, this poem is fantastic! I love the pounding urgency in your word choice–accentuated with alliteration: chunk of change, capacious colors, polar paws. Each line rings out like a bell. I want what you want. LOVED the ending.
Allison, I love this mentor text poem. I wrote it into my journal to notice the repetition and the enjambment and the simplicity. Thank you for this prompt. I have combined today’s prompt with one from another challenge I”m doing that gave a Cajun Music song as a prompt to respond to. At first, I thought it would be too hard. But, I love getting out of myself a bit when I write. This took me to where I want to go…someday.
What I Want Is
by L.J. Mitchell
What I want is
Enough time
To live all I want
What I want is
Southwest Louisiana
And her bayou
A bayou band
Those root music blues
Cajun jammin’
Rockin’ a soul or two
A zydeco dance lesson
From a bullfrog who
Sings Water Water
In time with fireflies
And cricket chirps
Acadian improv brew
On the down beat of
slow–quick-quick
Lacher Prise*
1-2-3-4
*French for “let go.” There is an accent over the “a” in Lacher…no idea how to produce that here!
Linda — I truly love the bayou vibe in this! I can feel the band rev up and start to carry me right down that rhythm on the water…very cool! The frogs are my favorite part… “a zydeco dance lesson from a bullfrog who sings water water in time with fireflies” — oh yeah! You’ve taught me the “let go” term here! How marvelous! This is such a delight…perfect start to the day! Thank you for transcending me to this spot! Susie
….enough time to live all I want…..and then the choral strains of life appear and the pulse of a lifebeat. Wow! This one sets a stage and brings the full cast!
Your piece builds up perfectly, a slow rhythm of the Louisiana bayou with details layering in until we are there. I love the singing bullfrog and the sound of water in time with fireflies (my favorite line) and the chirping cricket’s Acadian improv. You’ve given us the sounds, the slow, quick, quick, so much so that I want to be there too.
Linda,
I love the musicality in your poem and can hear that Cajun music in your words. “ Sings Water Water / In time with fireflies / And cricket chirps / Acadian improv brew / On the down beat of / slow–quick-quick / Lacher Prise* / 1-2-3-4.” My niece posted a second line video in her FB last night, which reminds me it’s Marci Gras time, and your poem is in perfect time for the celebration.
Linda,
I love this sense of place. I have been talking to teachers about place-based writing, and this one is so illustrative and brings me into a place and culture unfamiliar where I want to be. Love these lines:
A zydeco dance lesson
From a bullfrog who
Joyous,
Sarah
I feeling a burst of pride seeing your poem and thinking I had something to do with its creation. I’ve sent it to Michael and I read it aloud to my husband. (I never read poems aloud to my husband, just saying.)
A zydeco dance lesson
From a bullfrog who
Sings Water Water
In time with fireflies.
What a great image. The rhythm is there, and I want the dance lesson too! Love this poem!
Oh, my word! This is a treasure! I love how you used the mentor text so successfully (Rockin’ a soul or two…) and using the counting of beats for your closing line was brilliant! I’d say your combining of two prompts was indubitably successful!
What I Want
What I want is playfulness
not with my kids but with him
to giggle and laugh
and flirt sometimes leading to more
What I want is romance
grand gestures and simple acts
showing that I matter
we matter. Not just sports
What I want is intimacy
the reassuring touches, the hugs of comfort
revealing an awareness
of my needs and feelings
What I want is more than friendship
more than co-parenting
even though those two things
are wonderful to have
What I want is to be noticed and priortized
not just fit in
because it’s been a while
since we’ve had date night.
What I want is for you
to want me like I want you
as my preference as my first
as my choice
What I want is to not be a default
or an obligatory necessity
that you feel you have to do
or include in your day
What I want is more
more than we have
But I fear if I ask for more
or seek more
I may end up with less
Yes, this! These are the words I keep looking for in my head. Co-parenting is really not very romantic or fun. There are moments. But….. I miss my boyfriend. Although I have to admit to a date night last night for Valentines Day. It was sweet and fun. And, we both had to refresh our memories on what being out with a date is like….no kid talk! And, sad as it seems…I know that fear in the last lines of the poem. You’ve written them so well.
Susan — In so many ways you have captured the internal dialogue of so so so many women. Your words deliver such an ache to be seen, felt, honored. The phrase that slams this home for me is “want not to be a default”… so easily relationships slip to default. A couple of my closest friends are living out some very painful aches as they volley these emotions back and forth. And you get down to the “fear” at the end in your poem. Seeing ourselves in relationship and then as individuals is a cheetah’s chase — an exhausting movement that is crucial for the pursuit of living a healthy life. No easy race. I’m curious whether you will share this with “him.” You have a lot of friends out here. Thank you for sharing something so very real. Susie
Susan, those days of heart-thumping love that takes our breath away move so quickly from crushes to newlyweds to parenthood and to other phases that seem to put date night on a lower shelf than it used to be. You’re right – we all need ways to recapture the intoxicating and spellbinding buzz of romance more often.
But I’m also grateful that as writers we can find a similar smittenness with our journals and pens!
Thank you for the strength in voicing your want, for sharing the fear so many feel in a relationship that has aged into something very different from its beginning, and for wanting to retain the best of the earliest parts. Wanting to be noticed and prioritized speaks to so many.
Susan,
This poem hurts my heart. I’ve been in this place. I noticed the change in point of view, from voicing what you want to direct address of the “him” you want these things from. Will you share this poem w/ the one? That last line “I may end up with less” is so true. Sending you hugs and love.
Oh, wow, Susan, your voice is so brave and vulnerable. “Grand gestures and simple acts” I want that too! (And I don’t want to have to ASK for it, you know?) I feel you going deeper and deeper into that scary place of doubt. I am sorry you are experiencing this, but I must say it made for a powerful poem. Your ending reminds me of times I, too, have hesitated in fear of making an unsatisfactory situation worse. Thank you for your raw honesty in this.
I love it when a prompt leads you to say exactly what you wanted to say. If I could post a picture, it would be one of me holding my 14 month old grandson yesterday in front of a sign in my daughter’s neighborhood that read “Love what you have.” This poem is just what happened yesterday when I was babysitting my darling Leo.
What I want is
what I have
when I’m with him
walking hand around finger
down the hill
to the bayou
to wave at the canoers
even though they don’t
see us swinging
from a rope
in the oak tree
laughing just because
there are wildflowers
too many to count
and a cool breeze
to catch our smiles on
a day of only us
pointing at birds
flying overhead
Bird 1 Bird 2
(Thanks so much Allison! I really love what I caught.)
Oh, what a lucky, lucky boy Leo is to have a Grandmother poet. Cool breeze to catch our smile….the breeze knows of your love and the birds counted. Lovely work. Kisses to Leo
Your first line ——what I want is what I have- is nothing short of perfect! The hand around finger with the grandson, the wildflowers and smiles and birds, against the backdrop of water – it’s just a snapshot of a perfect moment. Thanks for sharing that sweet glimpse of sheer happiness with us.
The imagery here is beautiful. The first line is perfection.
This is beautiful! You have captured all the little glimpses of the day you shared with Leo, walking hand around finger, swinging from an oak tree rope on the “day of only us.” I like that you added the count of Bird 1 and Bird 2 at the end as it contrasts with the uncountable wildflowers and leaves us very much in a child’s world.
And thank YOU, Margaret! This poem is full of such joyful imagery. Just lovely. I love seeing you walking with Leo hanging onto your finger, pointing at nature’s gifts, counting birds! I hope you’ll tuck this into the book of snippets you’re writing for Leo! 🙂
Margaret,
I hope you’re creating a collection of poems for Leo as he grows and you two spend time together. This poem inspired me to think about ways to write about my memories of my children. I can see you and Leo looking up at the sky, counting birds. I see you waving at the canoers, admiring the wild flowers. So many rich images here.
Minimalist Makeover by K. H. Johnson
What I want is
to swap this house
and its frippery
for a log cabin
that sleeps 2
and not 12
except for the dogs
leave these 2
and add 10
to Boo Radley and Fitz
because more dogs and fewer people is
what I want
What I want is 1 wall hiding
1 bed and 1 bathroom
with 2 toilets, not 1
because dual thrones are important
crowning features
of log cabin castles
I want 1 sink, 1 counter,
and
0 cabinets to clutter, just 1
shelf for 2 plates, 2 cups, 2 bowls
2 forks, 2 knives, and 2 spoons,
1 pot and 1 pan
1 table, 2 chairs
1 fireplace and 2 lamps
I want 1 minimalist makeover
but please leave
ALL the books,
ALL the Moleskine journals and
ALL the blue-ink Pilot Varsity disposable fountain pens because that is
all I want.
This is so fabulous. Can I move there with you into another cabin just like it? With the week I’ve had with my pets (3 surgeries for 3 of 4 pets), I may just leave them behind. But of course I must have the journals and pens!
Oh, that word…frippery! It took me right in. I love it. And, your poem reminds me of the cabins at the Highlights Foundation. You can literally stay in a cabin that has a bed, bathroom, books and a writing desk. It is heaven! And, when I can afford to go again, I will. Yes, to the books, the dogs, the journals…just write.
I needed to read this to remind myself of how I have too much stuff. I particularly love the list with the sparse numbers – 0, 1, 2 – followed by the ALL for the really important stuff.
Beautiful, Kim! Make sure there’s a chair there for me! I want to join you at the “cabin castle”… or I can sit with Boo and Fritz …that’d be fine… dandy, in fact. It is perfect that the poem is sparse of extra words as well…. just room for a very fulfilling minimalist ease. This poem is just right! Oh, and you taught me a word I had not ever seen: frippery! Cool word and so apt. I will definitely steal this word at some point. Thanks, Susie
The paring down here, from a house for 12 to one for 2 (with of course, all the dogs, because…dogs!) and the use of numbers to count each necessary speaks to me. I keep trying to get those around me to rid themselves of all the unnecessaries, but I am on an island mission. That paring down juxtaposes so nicely with all the importances (books, journals, and pens – I’d have to throw in some art supplies, but I think I could have a companion cabin in your woods).
Kim,
I love your characterization of the house’s “frippery.” What a word! I share your desire for a “minimalist makeover.” The simple things matter most. I like the specificity in numbers throughout your poem. Reading it I thought: Why didn’t I think of that!
Kim,
I loved this from the second I read the title.
The many details of what we want less of . . . great.
But, I love, love, love the last stanza.
We want the clutter that we want.
Love this!! Minimalism in all the right places, but dual thrones and all the writing materials we need. You have your priorities right! The tone and the economy of words are absolutely perfect.
Ooooh, K.H., you’ve captured my fantasy! I absolutely love the freewheeling number play in this piece! The dual thrones made me laugh out loud! The last stanza repeats “all” at the beginning of each line. Love that.
Allison — I loved writing with you yesterday. Your poems and prompt…aahh…. such a big ball of sunshine through this infernal grey here in STL. Hugs. And this morning…well, heck, I’m sitting here with Watty–he nudging me to go-out-go-out-go-out and me arguing “let me read Allison’s poem…let me read Allison’s poem” — and it was so WORTH IT. I’m chuckling and remembering that NCTE runway….indeed. Such funny stuff. You are so good…so with with so few words. I look forward to messing with this prompt in awhile. Thank you! Susie
Oh, Susie! Thank you so much! I feel so rewarded by the great poems everyone is penning! This is such a wonderful community of writers!