Our #OpenWrite Host
Anna J. Small Roseboro, a National Board Certified Teacher has over four decades of experience in public, private schools and colleges, mentoring early career educators, facilitating leadership institutes, in five states. She has served a director of summer programs and chair of her English department, published six textbooks based on these experiences, and was awarded Distinguished Service Awards by the California Association of Teachers of English and the National Council of Teachers of English. Her poetry appears in several issues of FINE LINES: An Anthology of Poetry and Prose (2015-2020); was in her own publication EXPERIENCE POEMS AND PICTURES: Poetry that Paints/Pictures that Speak (2019) and will be featured in CENTERED IN CHRIST, a devotional coming out this Fall. Her new textbook PLANNING WITH PURPOSE: A Handbook for New College Teachers published by Rowman and Littlefield also is due out this Fall.
Inspiration
Five-finger exercises are ways to write different kinds of poems based on abstract terms. While there are traditional poetic forms, such as the ballad and the sonnet, there also are forms that poets make up just for the fun of it. They often construct elaborate rules, then set out to write practice poems similar to the “five-finger exercises” pianists use to learn dexterity. Here is one described by Fran Claggett, Louann Reid and Ruth Vinz in DAYBOOK FOR CRITICAL READING AND WRITING, 1998.
Process
Take a word for a walk. Choose a word from this list of abstract terms or choose your own magic word. Move this word through the poem so that it appears in each “X” position. There should be six words in each line. Use color, abstraction, or other poetic devices in your poem.
Anna’s Poem
Regretting Regret
We regret not spending the time.
It’s sad. Regret is a blue feeling.
Relentless, raging, reeling regret. Remorse. Release.
Resolve! We’ve had enough regret. Stop!
Let’s do what’s needed, outrunning regret.
Anna J. Small Roseboro, September 2020
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.
An Oral History: COVID-19 Teacher-Poets Writing to Bridge the Distance
Did you write poetry during the first days of COVID-19 school closings? Would you like to be interview for our oral history project? Click here to learn more.
I’m overwhelmed by the way things
Just are, overwhelmed by the lack
Of air space, overwhelmed by all
The little faces, overwhelmed by the
Pile piling. For today, just overwhelmed.
Oh, that pike piling! Nailed it! I particularly love the lack of airspace- SO relatable!
Pile piling—excellent phrase!! Love this—I could feel the tension growing throughout!
Abigail — The way the lines seem to roll, to mound up, I can feel that overwhelming sense of everything being just too much. I think you picked a really good word to drive that pile…even the word “overwhelmed” is a big ol’ oppressive word when you say it out loud again and again. The image of “all/The little faces” just zooms in a lens on the staggering sense of wanting to shriek OMG! I truly believe that our country has no clue how hard it is to be a teacher. Teachers are an incredible lot of pretty silent soldiers, “they just are,” so their poetry just means that much more to me. I hear your voice. So, this is the morning after you wrote this one, and I’m hoping today feels a tiny bit less overwhelming. Hang in there! I appreciate that you used some of your “air space” to share your poem. Thank you. Susie
What poetry an oak can be.
And there’s poetry in the maple.
Limbs and branches poetry can ink
On the paper sky. Poetry waves
Amber leaves in joy. That’s poetry.
Lovely, Katrina! I just read The Overstory last week and loved it. Your poem brought me right back into it.
Oh, Katrina, that is just beautiful. It put a picture right into my head of the amber leaves waving in joy. That is poetry! So beautiful. It’s one of my favorites today.
Katrina — I love how you elevated poetry in your poem. The majesty of trees and poetry are both quite a match. Lovely! Keep writing poetry…yea! Thank you! Susie
Love the prompt for today. Please proceed with caution, trigger warning.
Stop! I say as I push him off of me.
Please stop! Maybe if I use manners like my mother taught me, he will.
Why won’t he stop? I’ve already him nicely.
No seriously please stop! He’s not listening, why isn’t he listening?
Maybe if I push harder he’ll stop. My pushes do nothing to his body.
My pushes encourage him to not stop, I didn’t mean for this.
His body lay on top of mine and I want to stop thinking.
I wanted to watch a movie, but he didn’t want to stop.
Naydeen, your narrative causes each of us to reflect on a time we’ve been in this situation…literally or figuratively. Because you do not identify “he”, we each can decide who or what the antecedent is. That’s one of the powers of poetry and of the English language that lets us “see” the noun as anything or anyone, depending on our prior knowledge or experiences.
I’d like to say the “he” is your puppy or toddler, knowing the “he” could also be a problem or person you can’t press aside. Whichever it is, I hope “he” has stopped now that he has been exposed in your poem.
Naydeen, peace to you. My heart stopped during your poem. It is very powerful, with your first and last words of stop that were not heeded.
Naydeen — You have crafted a really powerful poem here. The building of tension around the power word “stop” is no small thing. The very word “stop” is a strong admonition and I feel that in the voice. My image with “my pushes do nothing to his body” is, indeed, a power struggle for me. Whether it is a minor or a major affront, the image in my mind is a strong sense of violation, and I am hurting for you. Any time that I’ve uttered the word “stop,” I can tell you, I meant it. And I am hurting for you “want[ing] to stop thinking,” wanting anything but that moment. You have a lot you can write about in this…so don’t stop! Thank you for sharing what feels very much like a pivotal moment and a personal struggle. I appreciate this poem so much. Susie
This apathy lurks in the shadows.
Lying dormant, apathy cocoons in complacency
until this succubus, apathy, slowly masticizes.
Deaf to wailing world, apathy spawns
distortions of truth, hatred, greed! Apathy!
Tammi, your poem invites us to be alert to avoid being sucked dry of empathy. Your choice of “succubus” is so connotative, it sounds like something that will drain us, making us susceptible to the distortions you describe in your closing line. I guess I should thank you for the warning! So, thank you, Tammi, for sounding the alarm in this well-crafted poem.
Wow, Tammi,
What word choice you made for describing apathy–lurks, lies dormant, “cocoons in complacency”, succubus, metastasizes, deaf, “spawns distortions of truth,” hatred, greed. Oh, my goodness! For all these things we are warned to beware of apathy. It is fitting for these times we live in. Bless you!
When bloody Failure scratched upon my door
I scolded Failure in my ignorance
Afraid to welcome Failure to my side.
She then crept closer; Failure purred
I stroked my silky feline Failure
Allison, I’m not sure what aspect of your poem gives me the creeps! But the fact that your description of a “silky feline Failure” shows the power of your word choices. Yikes, watch out, what that swirling around my ankle!
Allison, I did not expect that ending! I loved it. I want a Failure all to myself.
Allison – I love your personification of Failure as a cat – it’s just so perfect. It’s all in how you look at it. I want to re-read this one and cozy up to some failure.
Oh, you HEARD me. I didn’t realize until you said it that my poem is, in fact, about “cozying up” to failure. <3
Allison — This little poem is such a BIG success…no failures here! You had me at “bloody Failure scratched”…the personifying of the huge power that “failure holds over us is super. The progression of that knee-jerk sense of “scold[ing] Failure [the capital F is purrfect..;_) ] at first and moving each line to push the word to the end of the line and in a better place is such good crafting. You chose a dandy word…I call “Failure” (with a capital F) a real power word because it hammers us in life…we misinterpret its power. When you “crept closer” and felt the power of F to groom you into a strong you, I just was so thrilled with the whole poem. Once again, you use 30 words and drive a deep truism into its proper place at the end of the road. Quite brilliant! Thank you! Susie
Oh, Susie, you are the reader I need. Thank you.
With faith, we pick ourselves up,
Torn, faltering faith we rely on
A hope for tomorrow, faith is invaluable
Despite bitter, hard days faith remains.
A glimpse of happiness, is faith
This is what I needed to be reminded of today, Kaitlin. I really enjoy your last line. The word “glimpse” gives me hope. We just need that little peek, right?
Faith is definitely what is needed to get us through this difficult time. Thanks for your hopeful poem.
Kaitlin, after so many poems today that acknowledge the negative, draining emotions so many of us are enduring, your poem encourages us to hope. No, the poems about bad things are not bad! Acknowledgement is the first step to healing and recovery. Your poems and others posted today let us know there is another way, faith, hope and charity will get us through!
Thanks for sharing this glimmer of light on this dim, dank day.
Anna – I especially like the way you put the skids on regret; all it does is rob of us of today and tomorrow. Yes, let us outrun regret and leave it in the dust! Start anew!
This was a real challenge – things that look simple so often are anything but.
I still have gobs of stuff bubbling in my brain on this but am letting it go as is…
Weeping Wisdom
Embrace Wisdom, despite her sharp edges
Veiled, waiting, Wisdom whispers your name
At the altar, Wisdom sighs, forlorn
For your quicksilver heart, Wisdom weeps,
awaiting unveiling. Bloodshot eyes, has Wisdom.
Fran, the imagery throughout your poem is striking. I was immediately drawn to Wisdom’s “sharp edges” while being veiled…what an interesting and provocative contrast. The personification is superb, and the final line’s image of Bloodshot eyes really hammers the experience one gains while becoming wise. Beautiful!
Fran, I sat here thinking about what I wanted to say, but then I read Barb’s comments. I couldn’t agree more. Barb summed it up perfectly for me! This is terrific.
Fran — I love the beautiful imagery in your poem and the personification of Wisdom with her “sharp edges”.
Fran, I agree! This was harder than it first appeared. I found myself wanting an iambic pentameter rhythm, but couldn’t sustain it to the end. Still, it was really fun to push ideas against the form.
Your poem is filled with startling word combinations “despite her sharp edges,” “quicksilver heart” “awaiting unveiling” (love the sound of that). We think we want Wisdom, but it comes with a cost. THANK you for this poem.
Fran, the way you have personified Wisdom and given it sharp edges, a voice, and heart makes us wonder if we want to be wise. Is wisdom a mirror that will reflect our ignorance? Oh my! Why are Wisdom’s eyes bloodshot. Is “she” weeping for us or are we weeping for her?
Poems that make us think! What a privilege to share space with poets like you who do just that/
I relate to this … while gaining wisdom is a holy experience, which you point to with the veils and altar, it’s not clean, and not always happy. Bloodshot eyes tells a lot in a short while.
beauty
Beauty walks in silence. Enabled
by the beauty of others, who stand
before a mirror. Beauty reflects the features
of closed lips to the beauty of another’s smile.
One smile expresses all the hidden beauty.
Jamie, beauty also walks in the words of your poem. How well you show the power of a smile! Thanks for sharing both the beauties.
Jamie -this has such a lovely flow. I think of that opening line as real beauty not needing to show off, but as reflective, mirroring other beauty.
Jamie, I so enjoy how beauty is reflected here. It reminds me of the expression “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.” I love the contrast in the fourth line of the “closed lips” and “another’s smile.” Truly beauty is hidden and I love how you close with that final thought. Very “beautiful” poem!
This poem gave me chills! Amazing! I especially loved the line, “beauty reflects the features of closed lips to the beauty of another’s smile!”
Jamie — You had me with your opening line: “Beauty Walks in silence.” So much truth to this poem. So often we define our own beauty by the standards of others when we only need to find beauty within ourselves.
The rain, a sick dog, and the US contributed to my melancholia today.
Waking weary, I wash away nightmares
of wary, weary people. We wish
our country wasn’t weary from words,
that we were woke. Weary hearts
while away hours, so very weary.
(sniff, sniff) I feel this every day. And I’m so tired of it. Lots of great alliteration though!
Mo, walking with you in the poem has released some of the weariness we’ve felt today. You’ve helped us release it because we see we’re not alone. Thanks for opening our eyes, opening our hearts, and helping us prepare for another day.
Mo—love the alliteration and agree with the message…i am weary of this world right now…
Mo – your alliteration is amazing! I keep rereading for the gentle roll of it – despite the context, alas! I hope the rain and melancholia lift, that the dog is mending, and… well, I pray.
Mo, you captured my own emotions so well. On a dull October day, weary radiates. I love how you open with the nightmares being washed away…and with Covid, are we not all wary and consequently weary from this wariness? Hugs to you. Hope you feel less melancholy tomorrow and that the sun shines, too. Thanks for sharing this emotion so beautifully! It’s always a joy to read your poems.
I love the alliteration and the “realness” of your words. Hang in there!
Mo — love the alliteration. Oh, how I relate to the weary hearts.
This was a creative, delicious alliterative deep dive. I loved the play of wary/weary/while/waking/woke. I feel like you are juggling all these W words in front of us in a way that pummels us, reminding us of how very WEARY we are of this year’s attack on our senses and sensibilities.
This piece captures quite a bit about how so many of us are feeling about the world right now as we watch this election unfold. Change is coming soon! The weary will soon fade. Great alliteration!!
Stress has consumed me
Every day, Stress finds a way to build
Assignments, deadlines, Stress finds it’s feeding ground.
Swimming up to catch a breath, Stress weighs me back to the bottom
Whispering negative thoughts in my ears, Stress reminds me of my overbearing flaws
One day I will be done and all of this will be worth it, Stress will one day release its grip.
Jessica, Your poem expresses our hopes and our prayers. You’ve personified stress so well that it makes me tired reading your poem! Good job!
Stress finds its feeding ground—I love this metaphor. So very true!
Jessica, your poem creates the “perfect” tension for the reader. It was stressful! I especially like how your lines increase in length, really making us feel the tension.
Jessica — I felt the stress building in this poem to it’s perfect conclusion with stress releasing its grip. Somedays if feels like stress will never let go, but your poem reminds me to let it go.
Thank you Anna for this structure and for providing words.
Experiencing satisfaction I gaze at him
Excitedly I satisfactorily finished my puzzle
Lovingly knowing the satisfaction of teaching
Parents loving children produces satisfying emotions
Being at the beach ensures complete satisfaction.
Seana, the message of your poem, to me, is hang in there, look for good, eventually, you’ll get to the beach!
Thanks Anna, this was harder than I thought it would be but worth it.
Seana — all of your moments of satisfaction are so authentic and beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
Seana, I love how you describe all of your satisfying moments! My favorite was the third line.
Seana, I love the freedom that you used with your word choices. My first thought on line one was that it was a love poem about you and your hubby. Then after re-reading many times and thinking more about teaching, I felt the love/satisfaction of you as a teacher. So much to appreciate about your poem, but you know I especially love:
Sorry I missed it Monday. It was a rough day! Hugs and love, my friend.
This was hard. I just could not wrap my head around the tight form. That may be because I suffer from Covid fog or might be because I’m surrounded by the cacophony of tile chiseling on my main floor today. Anyway, this is the best I can do today.
Grant Grace
Sprinkle grace on hurting hearts like
Fairy dust. Grace mends rent relationships,
Restores loves lost. Grace guides healers.
As a quenching elixir grace satiates
Human yearning, quenching polydipsia with grace.
—Glenda Funk
I love a poem where I have to look up a word! (polydipsia) You need to grant grace to yourself, Glenda – this is lovely. Love the idea of sprinkling grace like fairy dust!
Ditto! You may be tired Glenda, but your experience writing poetry rose to the top and you did “good”. Thanks for joining the challenge even if you didn’t think you could do your best. You’ve done “good”, and now you can rest. 🙂
I agree with Maureen. Grace indeed! If this was hard, you pulled this off flawlessly – you are a wizard with verse! As a quenching elixir grace satiates – it creates the image of a dried up sad heart that acts like a sponge and soaks up the elixir and is full again. That’s a beautiful line.
When my brain is in a fog, I don’t come close to writing this well. The word grace is one of my favorites. I love how it sounds and the spiritual connection. Fairy dust and definitely quenching polydipsia, whatever that is.
Glenda—the grace flows through and out of this poem!
Glenda, oh my gosh, I love the absolute tenderness of this poem! So beautiful. The imagery of “Fairy dust” and Love being restored really spoke to me. The personification of Grace is expertly developed. Now, I need to go look up the word polydipsia. Thanks for sharing such a touching poem that feels full of grace!
Glenda — Love everything about this poem. The images of “fairy dust” and a “quenching elixir” perfectly described the indescribable. Grace is definitely what we all need right now.
Oh, my, Glenda! Beautiful! I had to look up polydipsia, but that truly is the human condition these days, what we are yearning and thirsting for–grace. The poem leaves us with hope for quenching and satiation! So many gifts of grace in your poem. Thank you!
Glenda — I, too, really felt fogged by the form and was struggling with it. I don’t think I really ever found what I wanted in it until this morning when I went back and read a bunch of yesterday’s poem posts. Your poem and several others have achieved a real magic in pushing the word along so that it starts small like “sprinkle grace” and then it moves to match the power of the word itself. Grace is a magical thing in my life, I have the grace of a lumbering ox…never finding that perfect “satiate[ing]” capacity of grace. My Mama had grace. I have friends with grace. But I still struggle with it. So your poem has a ton of grace, the “heal[ing]” and “elixir” and capacity to reverse things like thirst! (you taught me so gracefully a new word, polydipsia!) And you did it with smooth grace right to the last word. Lovely.
Anna, I love your poem and this prompt! I love how you color regret blue. I love all the alliteration and the fact that it ends with resolve!
Thank you, Nancy. Just like you, a poet AND visual artist, to pick up on the color!
Patience
Patience often hides in special places.
My patience waits behind my camera
lens. My patience allows me to
observe nature. My patience sees the
smiling turtle and my patience finds
the dancing leaf. Thank you, Patience!
Sharon,
The direct address here is clever and prayerful. I am not patient by nature so must work on that constantly. I love the way you honor your camera as a tool of patience.
The smiling turtle and dancing leaf make me smile. Love it!
Thank you, Sharon. I hope you share some of your photos for us to use as poetry prompts. OK, I’m taking advantage of this my day to host the prompt, to invite you to see my recent book EXPERIENCE POEMS AND PICTURES which includes 58 pictures of artwork followed by prompts to view and write about that artwork. Nancy White and Susan Osborn who have joined our group, both contributed their work to that anthology.
Now that I see you are a photographer, I invite you to share your work here. Sarah welcomes contributors to the list of those willing to challenge our writing. What say you? 🙂
First of all, Anna, I am totally embarrassed to say that I glanced right over your bio because I was so excited to read the prompt. I just read it, and your book is in my Amazon cart right now. It looks amazing!
Share my work here? Let me pick myself off the floor first. Part of me is thinking, but I’m not a professional photographer. And I just started putting some of my poems “out there” with this monthly challenge. But the other part of me is saying, why not? You have both thrilled and terrified me. I think I would be open to doing it… (she says hesitantly).
Sharon — I really enjoyed reading how your patience compliments your artistry as a photographer. Love the “smiling turtle”!
This was a great exercise for the brain!
I trust our nation will survive
him, though trust has eroded considerably.
The lack of trust in leadership
and facts is heinous. Trust is
essential to our nation’s foundation. Trust.
This really was a good brain workout! Fingers crossed that the majority of people do the right thing. Trust.
Maureen,
I trust you are right. I concur w/ every line of your poem. The last line reminds me that “trust” is on our money and etched into our national narrative, yet we seem to have lost so much trust in ourselves and our country. Hoping and trusting.
Maureen, I trust your faith in our nation’s voters is well-founded! I trust those who are uncomfortable voting for the person at the top of the ticket to vote down ticket. It’s the local lawmakers who affect our daily lives the most!
So much truth here. The erosion of trust has crippled our nation. I trust we will find our way forward. At least I WANT to trust. But, my trust is hanging on by a thread.
You said it, Maureen! I couldn’t agree with you more — “Trust is essential to our nation’s foundation”
Maureen,
I can’t help but think of “in God we trust” being labeled on everything and the meaning it holds in our society and government. The way you end the last line adds so much urgency to the poem — when will the trust come back? or can it?
Maureen, this is a great topic for today–trust. We can trust the dark before the dawn. I believe after this chapter we will learn more about how to strengthen our nation’s foundation with more justice for all. Your word placement is perfect here (enjambment was a new word for me on Saturday). You employed it well!
Amen, Maureen! You picked a word that has me reeling these days. I sooooo share your message! Thank you for unfolding TRUST! Susie
The PLEASURE is all mine she said smiling
When the PLEASURE of show casing her ego is on display
Others find the PLEASURE in gossiping behind her back
It’s no longer a PLEASURE to her dismay
When she finds out the PLEASURE was not truly hers
Loved it!! Such purity of thought and verse. So much said in 5 little lines! Wonderful poem!!!
Very clever! When one person’s pleasure hurts another, it’s not really pleasure, right?
Ohhhh this is good!! Love it!
Melissa,
I really like the way your poem challenges pleasure to show its dark side.
Ph, Melissa, the truth of your poem strikes home. How often we get pleasure from public acclaim, unaware that it’s not our doing that does it! Poetry speaks the truth!
Melissa—This is great! Succinct and a little bit snarky. My kind of poem!
What a splendid message! This is a perfect poem to use for teaching cause and effect and theme. May I borrow this to use as a mentor text?
Forgiveness
By Nancy White
If forgiveness was a natural thing
I’d let forgiveness fall like rain
I’d never keep forgiveness from anyone
It would be like forgiveness-oxygen!
Breathe it in—cool, clean forgiveness!
A lovely ode to forgiveness – “I’d let forgiveness fall like rain” Nice!
Such power in this poem, just like the power of forgiveness. Beautiful. I choose to forgive myself today for all the angst and irritation I already feel for the staff meetings, grade level meetings, one on one with principal meetings, and everything else meetings!
I LOVE this, Nancy! I’ve always had such difficulty with the concept of forgiveness. I always try to keep Oprah’s definition of forgiveness in mind – giving up the hope that the past can be different. (but I still struggle sometimes)
Nancy,
Wonderful simile in “let forgiveness fall like rain.” I know forgiveness is hard and try to remember it’s what we each do for ourselves more than for the person to whom we offer forgiveness.
I love “forgiveness-oxygen”! Such truth, without forgiveness, we drown in our own regret.
Nancy, you have such a gift for connecting abstract ideas with nature in ways that help us understand more concretely. Thanks for sharing the need for forgiveness and showing the benefits of letting it rain (reign????). 🙂 (I couldn’t resist the pun.)
I love this – your lines have the simplicity of Emily Dickinson, a statement and then specific detail; your poem is lovely
I, too would “let forgiveness fall like rain”—what a lovely thought—cool and clean is right!
This poem has a musical quality to it that I can’t quite put my finger on but I deeply love — perhaps it’s the rhyme of anyone to oxygen? Either way, this poem is as refreshing as rainfall and I like it a lot.
This is beautiful- sometimes it is so hard to forgive and I related so much to the sentiment behind this poem!
Love this line — ” I’d let forgiveness fall like rain”
If only forgiveness were as natural as breathing. Thank you.
Forgiveness-oxygen! What a beautiful image, Nancy!
This was really fun, yet definitely a difficult challenge! I want to play with this more — especially since I felt like I was too negative with both of mine — but I’ll go ahead and share the first one I wrote today:
“A Worrier”
I worry about my students daily.
It’s constant worry that doesn’t leave.
I see them worry as well,
there is lots to worry about,
but nothing to stop the worry.
Hopefully I can find the time to write a more positive one later.
It is a very clever poem about worry! “There is lots to worry about!!!”
I can relate to this! I wish I couldn’t, but sometimes I worry about worrying too much! 🙂
Erica,
It seems to me teachers have many reasons to worry about students. This is not a negative. Your poem shows compassion and concern.
Erica, while the message of your poem may not sound positive, your poem positively is on target. So often it is the words of others speaking our truth that makes us feel better. You’ve done that for us today by articulately what many of us feel, so often, but less now because you’ve helped us release that worry by reading your poem.
Erica,
I understand how worrying can sometimes be negative, but I think it’s also important to write how you feel. Positive feelings will come soon, stay well!
My irritation acutely stings my brittle
skin. My irritation, a dybbuk, assumes
multiple forms. My irritation swells and
disappears like bat formations. Irritation only
consumes when I acknowledge the irritation.
Laura – Mmm-mmm, this is dandy! First, I was smitten by the smooth enjambment of your lines…these are so well laid out and deliver the irritations. Then, there are the word choices..ooo! I loved “brittle” and dybbuk” in particular. I didn’t know “dybbuk” and now I’m revved about that word!! But the favorite thing was “disappears like bat formations”!! Dang, that’s really a terrific image of the elusive nature of irritations— they definitely come and then poof, are gone. For me, it especially is true that the burr that irritates is totally in my own mind, what I let get to my “last nerve.” Cool poem! Thank you! Susie
So many great words about irritation!! Love this!! “Irritation only consumes when I acknowledge the irritation.”
Laura,
You sent me to the dictionary to discover dybbuck. What a wonderful word, and seeing Susie’s not tells me I’m in good company. I see layered meanings in your poem—literal skin irritation and the prickly irritation resulting from others. I love these complications. I really relate to this poem on so many levels. We saw a bat in a cave a few weeks ago, so that image resonates as well. Great job.
Lauren, your poem not only exemplifies the power of enjambment but also teaches us a new word, “dybbuk”, which for some of us also is onomatopoeia. What a great word to add connotation to the string of poetic devices you’ve used is these few words!
I love your ending line. I’m left wondering if it’s a good thing to acknowledge the irritation, or not?
I really like “dybbuk”—had to dig into my memory banks to remember the meaning. And it is true—you have to label the cause before you can deal with the mood. Bravo!
Laura,
I love the use of the word “dybbuk”! It really makes me consider what forms the irritation takes and personifies it in my mind. “My irritation swells and / disappears like bat formations” — such great imagery! Wonderful!
Good Monday morning, Anna! What fun! I enjoyed reading your poem and found myself captivated by your “r” words that you so carefully selected to go along with “regret.” You are definitely a wordsmith. My favorite line is:
Love that because it gives me direction and purpose, a solution to regret.
Today, I started with JOY so that’s where I stayed.
Joy
©Stacey L. Joy
Finding Joy in 2020 begins inside
Deep everlasting Joy grows toward light
And love. Speaking Joy over pain,
Over loneliness, over loss, Joy comes
In the morning. Hello, overflowing Joy!
Good morning Stacey. Your poem and Anna’s are the jump start I need for this day. Thank you for reminding me that “joy comes in the morning” and so does another chance. “Joy over pain over loneliness over loss” especially touched me. ??????
A soft and beautiful poem, rejoicing in Joy! Thank you for writing it – it made my day!
Judi
Joy,
You can’t escape it! Thank you for this reminder that our joy cannot be found anywhere but within. I love the image of “deep everlasting Joy [that] grows toward light and love.” A hopeful and affirming though, much needed this Monday morning!
Thank you for sharing.
Ah, Stacey! I’m lovin’ that JOY! If ever there were a word that fits you, that names you, that exudes from you, it is that: JOY. And getting a big dose of that on a cold, cloudy, rainy Monday here is pure JOY! You “overflow[ed]” and I’m going to ladle that right up. Thank you! Susie
Stacey,
How appropriate to celebrate your name in your poem. You embody every line. I love every line and appreciate you so much.
Thank you for this ode to JOY! Finding it does begin inside…
Hi Stacey, your poem is a creative way to share your radiant personality with others. Its a good way to encourage others to stay positive even in difficult times.
Stacey,
I love the reminder of speaking joy over pain, loneliness, and loss.
Thank you for this share!
Joy, as you can see in the comments from our group, your presence and your writing have brought us JOY!!! Thanks for being and bring us joy.
Hello, Joy! Hello to the choice we make every day in finding joy or finding no joy. Love your name, love this word, love your message!
Anna, I so appreciate this clever form — the visual and physical movement of a word through the verse — walking it through to see where it needs to be and how it got there.
I am vulnerable when I ask you for the truth.
Exposed to criticism, vulnerable vanishes my shell of dignity,
slices open emotional wounds from the last vulnerable petition
for improvement, a call for pupils’ assessment of my designs; erudition lives in vulnerable
Today, week 10 of the semester, I ask students for their feedback on the course. I am always so afraid of this day and brace myself for the criticism that always comes because it hurts, but that discomfort is also a truth that I need to be and do better.
Sarah, hugs! Making ourselves vulnerable is so painful, but as you say it may be worth it. It always amazes me about what some people will say though and how those words can wound us so deeply. I know I would have been very blessed to have had your guidance as an instructor! I was especially touched by your line: “vulnerable vanishes my shell of dignity”. Hopefully, the compliments will outweigh the negatives!
Sarah – The sense of movement that comes with vulnerability is transformative and so important to our work. Your poem holds a bravery that I feel as I witness that “shell” and the “slices” it takes to let the seeds of knowledge bloom. You really are a poet from stem to stern. I particularly love how your message lets the lines stretch the form to achieve the beauty in that message.
Sarah,
I appreciate your vulnerability in both your poem and your note. Evaluations always make me feel raw and vulnerable. You really capture my fears in this poem.
Sarah, Yeah, I’m not a fan of these times of the semester either. I dread them as well. So, I was going to write something like “Good luck with your ‘evaluations’ today,” but I won’t. You don’t need “luck.” We know you’re an excellent and empathetic teacher already. (One needs only to read a small sampling of the various responses you’ve left on the poems here, and, speaking of which, hell, we wouldn’t even be “here” if it weren’t for you. We are, in effect, “in your house” right now. You’ve created this space for us.) So, no, you don’t need luck. The feedback’ll be great. Use what you can/want and try not to dwell too much on any one response. That’s my (free) advice, for what it’s worth. Lol.
The truth is necessary for growth although it hurts. This is one of the areas I do not look forward to as a teacher but it allows me to not only reflect on my teaching methods, it also forces me to think outside the box.
Once again, our ETHICAL ELA lady shows us the power of this site! She’s asked us to open ourselves to the reading, feedback, and critique of our peers knowing how vulnerable it makes it us, but she’s so clever that we come back month after month because we know doing so does us good.
We may not be erudite, yet….but we’re getting there. 🙂
Sarah,
Vulnerability feels so uncomfortable, and you share the risks we take so eloquently here. That shell of dignity you mention – It feels like a combination of running naked fearfully and dodging flying arrows at the same time. I’m sure that your students love and appreciate all that you do to bring empathy and respect to the classroom. You go the extra mile.
I can’t read your poem without thinking of Brene Brown. She helps me recognize that vulnerability is something we should embrace. You’ve asked your students to look closely at your course, and with that comes fear of what you might discover. Seek out courage. You’ll find jewels, no doubt.
Whoo!! Tough assignment, here! Well, here goes…
Paused
Life paused for us in spring
Not a pause to embrace sunshine
Not a welcome pause for life renewal.
A cosmic joke, the pause indefinite.
You win. Resume game. Delete pause.
Please.
Gayle, I so enjoyed the progression of your poem and how you framed it with the title Paused and concluded with Please. I agree this pause deleted would be sheer relief. Our world definitely needs a renewal!
Absolutely loved the poem, especially the last two lines:
“A cosmic joke, the pause indefinite. You win. Resume game. Delete pause.”
Priceless
Usually pausing is a good thing, but I like how you wrote about how pausing can also bring frustration. I definitely experienced some of these same frustrations with ‘pauses’ in our lives.
My favorite line was “A cosmic joke, the pause indefinite.”
Gayle – You surely did right by this loaded word, pause. Never did I dream on March 15 that my entire life would hit “pause” and I’d be looking at a test screen for 7 straight months with no “resume” button anywhere in the mechanism of my life. The “cosmic joke” of it is cripplingly cruel. Oh, how I long to touch another human being… to be touched. It gives poetry so much grander a meaning when it “touches” us. Your pause gives me pause, and I feel touched. Thank you! Susie
Gayle,
Your poem is so fitting for this time. I think about stasis, this long pause, often. The litotes are especially effective in showing contrast in what the pause is and is not.
This was a clever poem about our forced pause! Love love love “You win. Resume game. Delete pause.” It ‘gasps’ as I read it, like you are truly done/giving up!
Gayle, your poem shows how we can look at something from different perspectives and see that the same thing can be positive or negative. We’ve “paused” many of the actions and behaviors that filled our time and lives before COVID-19, but that pause has cause. It has caused us to reflect on who and what is truly important to us.
Our writing group and the writing we do together are important and we thank you for giving us this moment to pause and consider that!
Your words give me pause.
Oh, this is fun, Anna! Thank you for the prompt. I may write another and another… Here goes.
Eluding Pleasure
Hoping pleasure would be dining out again.
Face masks. Pleasure eludes me when eating.
I’m spraying lysol. Pleasure in killing germs.
Can I even relax? Pleasure not coming.
A cook may have coughed. Pleasure gone.
Susan, the progression of your poem is pure perfection. I feel that final “Pleasure gone!” Not having the sheer joy of dining out is truly a loss!
Susan – Ha, your progression from one consequential line to the next had me ready to scream GONE! You built the very reality I’ve imagined myself. The very notion of thinking about dining out blows me away with that one “cough”!!! Egads! Very well crafted!! And boy oh boy, does it resonate! Susie
Oh yes, pleasure GONE! I love “a cook may have coughed” because I think of such things as well. I try not to think, but I can’t help but feel germified just being outside. Will we ever feel normal again?
Susan,
Forgive me for chucking at those last two words. Certainly the pleasure we associate w/ food has be excised of much of its pleasantness. ?
Susan, there is pleasure reading your poem because you’ve verbalized what many of us experience. What we think will bring us pleasure doesn’t always do so! Sorry you had no pleasure in dining out. But, know, you’ve us pleasure in reading your poem.
Truth from beginning to end! “Pleasure gone”—like a puff of smoke! Yes!
When love is naught but blind
passion, our love grows foolish.
Be careful, my love, that you
use wisdom when in love, for
many have lost themselves to love.
Grace, this is brilliant, tender, sweet, and loving! My favorite line is
We’ve all been down that dark road. Your poem is love because it’s giving such valuable advice.
Grace, your poem moves so effortlessly. I love the all the thoughtful words of advice! How true it is!
Grace – Beautifully crafted and so fitting for such a power word, love. And the juxtaposition of young “foolish” love to the wisdom of a careful love that doesn’t usurp identity is so well done! This poem could make a marvelous debate in your classroom! Debating the merits of love and love at what cost… could be quite rousing. Toss in a bit of Romeo & Juliet and you’ve maybe got a heck of a lesson! Cool! Susie
Grace,
Your first two lines are downright Shakespearean. Love these truths and the way you structure them.
Well, Grace! You’ve done it. Exemplied the power of poetry that captures and reflects maximum feelings in a minimum of words. Love is what we long for, love is what we live for, but if that is all we live for, we’re lost. Oh my!
TWEETS
Once TWEETS were random social comments
When did TWEETS become hijacked politically?
Hateful rhetoric choked TWEETS all lies
Designed to persuade mindless TWEETS masses
To vote for soulless, lying TWEETS
Judi — I loved the attitude in this poem. The whole concept of tweeting and how it hijacked our country just makes me crazy as a bedbug. I’m really loving this strong statement! Amen! Susie
Judi, the frustration and anger towards all the crazy tweets were are inundated with rings soundly throughout this poem. I laughed out loud to your final line. Amen!
Judi,
This is clever. As a Twitter fan, I’m both amused and frightened by political Twitter. However, as Barbara Kingsolver said years ago, “All writing is political,” even tweets. Still, I suspect Russian bots and the WH occupants deserve credit for the morass you describe.
Judi, is this a rhetorical question? “When did TWEETS become hijacked politically?” Do we have time to answer this? Thanks for asking. You’re challenging us to think carefully before voting for whoever it is we know who uses tweets unethically, right?
I think it critical that we listen to all rhetoric before deciding on who will head this country, including Tweets for they, indeed, speak to the character of the person.
Anna, what a fun and challenging prompt. Thanks for giving your time to us today!
The Last Leaf of Loneliness
His loneliness, a silent soulless prison
A frantic loneliness like inescapable disease
Festered frustration, inflamed loneliness, and immolation
Dreams deferred devastated from loneliness reverberate
Soundlessly–the last leaf clinging–loneliness
Barb — This choice of words, loneliness, is not lost on me… the last 8 months have been just a storm (you know about that, I know!) of loneliness. No access to those I love… it really does feel like the “last leaf clinging” on many days. Words that really added to the effect for me were “soulless prison” and “frantic loneliness” and “festered” and “inflamed”… and the seeming echo of “reverberate/soundlessly” — oof. Haunting on this cold, rainy day here in STL. Susie
Barb,
I had to read this through a few times to take in the image of a leaf embodying all of the different ways that you express loneliness. I’ve been thinking this week, as the leaves begin to fall, that soon it will look as it did when we went into the shutdown in March. I wonder what it will be like to sit at the kitchen table and some things will look just as they did, but so much has changed. Thanks for providing a time of reflection.
Barb, this poem is so good it makes me sad! And that’s not bad. Well written poems evoke both intellectual and emotional responses. Yours has done both. intellectually, I wonder how did she do this so well…create such a strong emotion is so few words! She must be a good poet. Well, I guess, I’ve answered my own unasked question – “How did she do it?”. She’s a good poet!
Anna, thank you for such a lovely compliment!
Barb, you’ve cleverly combined this prompt and still kept allusions in your writing. I love the dream deferred, and I love the last leaf clinging. It makes me think of the e.e. Cummings poem A Leaf Falls Loneliness and the visual spacing that is so lovely! Great verse as always!
Oh my gosh – the very first thought I had was of O. Henry’s short story, “The Last Leaf” – one of my favorites! That said – this is searing. Loneliness is searing (and horrifyingly abundant). Frantic, festering, inflamed … it’s a haunting poem, so magnificently composed. I’m in awe.
I do not know O. Henry’s story, but now I must find it. “Searing” is a great word to describe what Barb has done here. Today one of my journalists was working on a story about the stigma men feel when facing mental health issues. As I read Barb’s poem, I experienced it through that lens.
To switch to the metaphor on the last line (the last leaf clinging) pushed me over. Wow.
[Note: I got carried away and cranked out a couple. Anna, it’s funny, when I started this morning, I thought “shoot, I can’t do this,” but here goes anyway. Thanks for the push. Susie]
MASK: PSA
We mask for each other, care.
You can mask for me, true?
I will surely mask for you.
A kindly gesture, this mask affair,
an easy task, I swear. Mask!
VOTE
I vote each time so convinced
my one vote tips the scale;
my one precious vote weighs heavy;
blue ballots counted, a vote unfailed;
for measures of truth, I vote.
by Susie Morice©
Susie, your PSA is outstanding. This short, punchy format lends itself to the message, making it memorable as a good PSA should. I especially like the line “for measures of truth, I vote.” Ain’t that the truth!
Susie, these are both so thoughtful and timely. I feel the heaviness of my own ballot, hoping it will make the difference. I especially enjoyed “for measures of truth, I vote.” And your masking poem is so spot-on…just mask! Brilliant!
Hi Susie,
Both poems are exactly what we need right now and probably for a long time ahead. I am feeling the weariness creeping in as we get closer to Nov. 3 but I keep pushing it back and believing the results will be favorable. Thank you for sharing both of your poems today.
Susie! Just the PSA I needed today! Love, love the mask verb. I hadn’t thought about it as a verb (kind of like how Google became a verb) until I went out into the world this weekend and saw signs “mask up!” and then found myself wondering “why aren’t people masking”?
And then these two — mask and vote — in the same white space is just perfect.
Sarah
Susie,
I love both these issue-oriented poems. I mask and vote as part of the social contract. We are the masked women, the sometimes lost voices. Hang in there my blue waving friend.
Susie, the word vote is so timely and so powerful. Isn’t it something that we always have the hope that our one vote will make the difference and save the world from utter despair? I like to think that, too. That’s why we all vote! To be heard and to make change. This is beautiful!
Susie, How cleverly you’ve captured two key topics in current affairs! Whatever the results of this election, I, too, pray that foks will wear masks because they share, and vote for the same reason.
Susie—send the message out to the world—both of them! Your rhymes are perfection!
I love the mask PSA. A kind gesture it is!
Thank you for this share!
Thank you, Susie. I needed these.
I love both of these PSA’s.
Funny?
Defining humor is no easy task.
Some see humor as silly pratfalls
while others see humor as wit.
The ancients believed that humor represented
four bodily fluids, albeit gross, humor(ous).
Scott — You made me chuckle… task achieved…Funny! Makes for a much better Monday! Thanks, Susie
Scott, thank you for exploring humor here. You capture the idea that humor isn’t always funny to everyone. I especially like your play on the word in the last line.
Scott, I think your focus on humor is so appropriate based on how humorous your poems often are. I’m asking a for some personal advice here and I will look back to see if you answer. I think you might be an expert in humor and I have a student I am mentoring. She is researching slapstick humor and focusing on Charlie Chaplin and Lucille Ball. Do you have any recommended sources for her to read? Thanks in advance for any ideas you can send my way.
Barb, High praise! Thank you! (Totally undeserved, btw, but I’ll see if I can help point your mentee in a direction. If she has access to JSTOR (the scholarly journal database) she’ll be able to find a number of “scholarly” articles on slapstick humor. I’m not sure why I used quotation marks there. Lol. Humor is serious business, isn’t it? And it deserves to be studied thusly! Just at a cursory search, I found a few article titles that might interest her: “The Stigma of Slapstick”: The Short-Subject Industry and Its Imagined Public,” “Pie and Chase: Gag, Spectacle and Narrative in Slapstick Comedy,” and “From the Archives of Keystone Memory” : Slapstick and Re-membrance at Columbia Pictures’ Short-Subjects Department.” If she wanted to “go back further” than Chaplin and Ball, she could also look at the origins of “slapstick” in 16th-century Italy’s commedia dell’arte. (If college-level reading is not her cup of tea, I searched “Charlie Chaplin” in Hoopla (the e-book/audiobook/comic book/etc “distributor” that’s connected to my local library), and I found a number of books. One, in particular, caught my eye: Charlie Chaplin (2013) by Kathryn Dixon. “Charlie Chaplin literally fell into the genre of slapstick comedy when he was 18 years old….” It’s listed under Biography & Autobiography. I’m sure Lucille Ball would have similar selections. (In fact, she does. I looked. 🙂 Here is just one of them: Lucille Ball FAQ by Barry Monush. “Everything left to know about America’s favorite Redhead….”)))) (I threw in a couple extra parentheses there at the end because I lost track of how many I needed. Sometimes they’re wily like that. You’ve got to keep your eyes on them at all times!) Hope this helps in some way!
Oh, bodily fluids, Scott! Bodily fluids. You sure do have that wit.
Great, Great poem! I loved reading it, and re-reading it! The final two lines really sum it up! Good for you!!!
Scott,
You are clever w/ this play on humor. These days humor doesn’t coax me to chuckle much; it often makes me cringe in my spleen.
Scott, humor also makes us laugh at ourselves! You’ve done that today! I’m laughing, well maybe not at myself, but at you, because you made me laugh at your plays on words. Thanks! 🙂
Scott,
this is such a fun turn for this prompt.
Thank you for this share!
2020
In hindsight, ice thought uncracking, unsnapping
Sounds warning, hindsight posts danger signs
Tarot cards, black-cats, hindsight is 2020
Look before you leap, hindsight warns
We should’ve paid attention, in hindsight.
Jennifer — You picked such a great word and made it work so smoothly. Finesse! I have to steal some of the ideas here…I love the whole notion of “hindsight”! Cool! Susie
Jennifer, I sure wished I had the power of hindsight! I love the sound effects here and the very dark images of “Tarot cards” and “black-cats”. Your last line says it all!
Jennifer,
So clever with the hind “sight” is 2020 and 2020 in need of such reflection. I feel such a swirl of a storm inside my mind with debris making it so difficult to see or to make sense of 2020 as it continues to pull destruction into its grasp.
Ugh, hindsight. One of my students posted a writing prompt about what I wish I knew about 2020 back in Spring and what I would have done differently if I had known this would go on for so long…I was paralyzed by that question.
Hugs to you, Jennifer!
Sarah
Jennifer,
WOW! I immediately thought of both global warming and the pandemic as I read. Last night “60 Minutes” showed Dr. Fauci predicting the pandemic and has a story on climate change. We ignore our Cassandras to our detriment. Wonderful poem.
Jennifer, how cleverly you’ve used paradox to illuminate and drive home the point of today! “We should’ve paid attention, in hindsight.”
Favorite line: Hindsight is 2020. Brilliant.
Anna, thank you again for a fun prompt. I like how Linda describes it as word sudoku. Your template was also helpful.
Virtual fatigue, drowning out our voices
Exhausted, pandemic fatigue, fogs the future
Too many breaths, fatigue of positivity
Mental capacity filled: drowsy, fatigue, drudgery
Dreaming normalcy, new status quo fatigue
Stefani,
A quintuple WOW here – your multi-faceted fatigue permeates the verse and shows us why we feel fatigued on so many levels. This feeling is how we all start the day. I pray it is not our new normal, but I do fear it is here for awhile. Great way to bring us all together for a common thread of feeling and empathy today!
Stefani, Well done! I became more tired as I read through this! (Granted, it’s quarter to eight in the morning, but your well chosen diction — “drowning,” “exhausted,” “fogs,” “drudgery” — did its work!)
Stefani — Oh boy, you grabbed a word that sure resonates here. Fatigue on so many levels… I particularly like the “fog” of fatigue– perfect word! And the “fatigue of positivity” — I just read an article on this, and it is very real what they describe and you describe here. Five really packed lines! Thank you! Susie
Stefani, you capture the nuances of our situation right now – the one too many fatigues that drag us down, the layering of fatigues we are drowning in. .
Stefani — this is just so true that I am at a loss as to how to proceed. But seeing your words within all the white space that surrounds it makes me feel like there is a way through.
I love it when a poem grabs me by the throat and says, “Read ME”, and your poem did that. “Too many breaths, fatigue of positivity”, and then “Dreaming normalcy, new status quo fatigue”. So much truth in so few words!
Stefani,
Your poem definitely resonates with me! I feel like I’m constantly trying to diagnose my fatigue, and here you’ve summed it up in 5 lines! “Fatigue of positivity” and the last line really got me. I’m looking forward to a time when the mental gymnastics will let up.
Stefani,
The fatigue you describe is palpable. The world is fatigued of being fatigued. You really hit the proverbial nail in the head w/ this poem. Love it.
Stefani, like Jessica’s poem on STRESS, your poem has evoked that feeling! And it also prompts me to empathize with those of you who have to endure the stress that fatigues because you’ve committed yourselves to teach, in this current setting.
Whether you’re teaching in-person, online, or both, please know that you have our respect, our thanks, and our prayers for your efforts to develop lessons that help students learn.
This exercise is so cool! Thank you for sharing it. I am virtual teaching all day…so I’m up early preparing for meeting with librarians and then doing an online maker activity and then co-teaching a class with a colleague in Columbia! Yikes. I always get myself in over my head. So, in case I don’t get back with a poem, I want to say THANK YOU for the fun. I love word sudoku!
Yes! Word Sudoku!
Anna, thank you for investing in us as writers this week! Your prompts are mind-stretchingly creative and have pushed me in new directions! Your choice of the concept of regret and its feeling is so raw and so real – it led me to the word mercy for today. In keeping with my month of Mary Oliver, I borrowed the first line from her poem “Six Recognitions of the Lord.”
Mercy!
Lord, mercy is in your hands.
Lavish your mercy liberally upon us.
Let streams of mercy quell long-suffering
labors as we your mercy beseech.
Lord, we languish without your mercy!
– kim Johnson with a nudge from Mary
Kim, My favorite line is “let streams of mercy quell long-suffering.” I feel like this could be a quote on its own. I also like your reference to the “nudge” at the end. Thank you for sharing this.
Hi, Kim — Yes, MERCY! We need it! Badly! And again, I’m loving your devotion to Mary O! Yea! Now, I have to remember to have some mercy my own bad self. Hugs, Susie
Stefani, I love how this poem reads like an open prayer that begs for mercy. I think your final line says it all; I do not want to languish, and I could really use some mercy! Beautiful poem!
Oh, Kim! Mercy! I am so moved by your ask — by the implied surrender but also the acknowledgement that we are not meant to go it alone.
Kim,
I’m touched by the tense, prayerfulness of your poem. It’s a gift. “Mercy” is one of my favorite words. I thought about the quality of mercy soliloquy from The Merchant of Venice as I read your poem.
Kim, ditto! So many have expressed our desire to receive the mercy we know we should be extending to others. Your poem entices us to give what we want and suggests that we don’t have to depend on our strength to do it.
Thank you for BOTH reminders.
Yes, more mercy too. Your nudge from Mary created a beautiful poem today. “Lord, we languish without your mercy!” So true.
Anna, I’m with you outrunning regret. Who needs it, right? Thanks for this fun prompt. I didn’t even draft this morning, just typed directly into the box wondering where worry would take me.
I worry that I’m not good
enough to worry about myself when
I give in, worry for the sake
of all my silly worry lists
waiting for nothing but for worry.
Margaret, your line about worrying about your self strikes a cord with me. It is a reminder to me of how important self-care is before care of others. Thank you for this.
Margaret,
Beautiful pictures of your family wedding over the weekend – the love is in the faces of everyone! Your word – worry- is ever present in our daily lives. You describe its there-ness all too humorously in the idea of silly worry lists. It’s almost like a prompt for another day – a silly worry list! Who among us doesn’t have that list going, and I wonder if we all wrote it out what would be common? And yet worry does nothing about any of it…. ?I love this.
Margaret, I wish my first drafts turned out like this! Well done! (Thanks for “taking worry for a walk” this morning.)
Margaret — Yes, WORRY…ooo… so many good ways to repeat that …it screams for repetition. I should’ve thought of that when I was drafting…worry is the perfect word for that rehashing that we do. I spent half the night last night in a state of worry… your poem is a good reminder of how “silly” and “waiting for nothing but for worry” that the whole activity can be. Thanks! Susie
Margaret, I love how you captured the problem with worrying. As a life-long worrier, I can so relate! All the energy we spend on worrying …..it’s exhausting, and I am always telling myself to let it go…I think your poem reflects that personal feeling so adeptly!
Margaret,
I was going to use the word “enough” for my poem today in the way you have it here — the worry of not good enough, the worry about myself. Thank you for making this worry visible for me today, for bolding the word so that I can name it and then move to the white space to breathe through it.
Peace,
Sarah
Margaret,
This is such a tender, vulnerable confessional poem. You’ve always seemed to be a confident person to me, someone w/ less worry than I Gabe about my own shortcomings. I live the way a poem so brief can crack open our deep layers. Sending ❤️ and virtual ? s to you.
Mary, you don’t have to worry today. You’ve written a poem that reflects the emotions of worry. That means you’ve written a good poem and writing well is good enough for today! 🙂
Anna,
Thank you for your poem about regret. I love that you leave it behind in your poem. Alliteration is one of my favorites, so you might not be surprised that the third line is my favorite, especially that transition at the end of it — from remorse to release to resolve to move beyond it. What a fun prompt today, with a walk with a word. I have hope on my mind a lot lately. I also have allusion on my mind from yesterday, so I’m inspired by Emily Dickinson and Mary Oliver. (And Kim Johnson!)
Hope
Is Hope a winged bird perched
Or flying? Hope who owns nothing–
Makes room for Hope, love, grace–
She’s able to soar, Hope filling
the heavens. God, please more Hope.
Denise,
What a beautiful word – hope! Have you read “Storage” by Mary Oliver from your new Kindle version of Devotions? So much of your message is in that poem. I thought of faith, hope, and love today as I wrote – boy, do we need those in our world right now in triple doses!
Yes, Kim, I did use “Storage” by Mary Oliver,
Also, Emily Dickinson’s
Thank you for the inspiration. Her work is so lovely and healing.
Denise, your placements of the words “hope” work well with your enjambment to support the flow. And yes, please, more hope!
Denise — You brought real beauty to the poem this morning… I love the “winged bird perched/Or flying?” Bring on the hope, indeed! We are in a bit of short supply lately…we need “please more Hope.” With a capital H! Yes! Thanks, Susie
Denise, wow, your poem is so beautifully written! I love the imagery at the end of hope filling the heavens…and praying for Hope to be granted. Simply wonderful!
Denise,
I keep thinking about your oral history interview and how much your words healed me. And this poem of hope is, again, your wisdom offering us a way through — make room for Hope and then simply ask for it. I think it will come, yes? If we ask, yes? Oh, look, it is here. Welcome, Hope! Neat how that works.
Sarah
Denise,
I love the honor you’ve given both Emily Dickinson and my favorite bible verse, Hebrews 11.1. Both remind me I can’t always see what will be but can always have hope.
Denise, if we were writing allusion poems today, I’d say you were alluding to Emily Dickinson’s poem that begins “Hope is a thing with feathers”. Both your and her image reflects the flightiness of hope and our desire to keep it near. Both you and she express our hopes quite well. Thanks.
I love how you blended yesterday’s prompt of allusion with today’s challenge of reusing words. The result is lovely. I love “Hope who owns nothing.”