Jessica and Kole are preservice teachers at Oklahoma State University in Stillwater, Oklahoma majoring in secondary education with a minor in English. Jessica hopes to one day become a high school English teacher in a rural setting. She just began a job at the Child Development Center on the OSU campus and is excited to gain more experience with students. Kole spent one year as a marketing major before switching to Education. When Kole is not doing school work, he is usually at the daycare where he has been working full time through COVID19. He has a classroom that he shares with another teacher with 40 students aged 6-12. He hopes to one day become a high school English teacher.
Inspiration
As we talked about what our topic should be we wanted to do something that everyone could relate to, whether you write every day or write once a week. We discussed a few topics but the one that stood out the most was the process we both have for writing. This is something that is in a way unique to every writer and plays a role in every writer’s process.
Process
Make a list of all the things that typically take place before you write, I would try to think of 7-8 things no matter how small or big. Start your poem chronologically and create your own story. Try and paint a picture of your process in the reader’s head.
Here is our list:
Wake up and drink coffee,
Listen to soothing music,
Read a passage from a book or books,
Find a nice quiet place,
Freewrite or journal,
Find favorite pen,
Begin to write
Jessica & Kole’s Poem
As the light peeks through
I drink my coffee and find myself anew
Soothing music floods over me
I open my book and I begin to read
I search for a place of escape
from noise and such
I open my journal and release my thoughts
With my favorite pen in hand
I begin to write something oh so grand
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.
Wake up – trod downstairs to make the drink that will give me energy
Read and post the Scripture of the day – the Word of God gives me life
Practice Spanish via an app – hopefully I’ll be fluent before I die
Read the corresponding date of my Daily Bible – there’s no such thing as too much God
Pray
Workout for an hour or take a 3-mile walk – moving by body is important to me
Shower and dress – pajamas count, right?
Prepare breakfast and multitask for work – technically on the clock at 8:45
Review Scholarly work – plan for sending out more
Make contact with parents – try to make this hard thing simple…”do the best you can”
Emails, Emails – check and respond
Eat something that is supposed to be lunch – don’t judge me
Continue the work cycle until I cant’ take it anymore – planning, reaching out to parents, reviewing activities, checking emails
As dusk approaches, but often not until the dark of night
I finally sit down away from the Must-do
Preparing my mind to focus on the Get-to-do, the Want-to-do
Notebook open, pens by my side
Drawing a blank on what to write
I SMILED SO BIG at your closing lines. Just when you finally “get to,” you draw a blank! I feel this too! 🙂
Wake up see what time it
Make some breakfast
Open the curtains to let the light in
Relax by sitting down
Open the notebook
Think of what to write
Then let my hand do the rest.
Ryan,
this is short and simple and I love that! There isn’t a huge routine you follow because maybe writing is something that is simple and comes naturally to you.
Such simplicity in these words. I love the line “Then let my hand do the rest.”
My favorite lines were “open the curtains to let the light in” and “Then let my hand do the rest.”
I love how that closing line implies how we must let go, trust the process, let the “hand” take over. If we stay in our tight little minds, we won’t write a thing!
Thank you for this message.
Jessica and Kole,
Thank you for this inviting prompt! I want my students to try it: explore the ways they come to the page. I’m not thinking about what my writing process may have looked like when I was 15…19…25.
I also loved reading the poem you two composed together (not easy)! The need for escape, the thoughts released from the pen (the FAVORITE pen), and the optimism of “something oh so grand” drew me right into your experience.
I am excited to think you two will be joining the profession I love.
Bravo!
That should say I’m NOW thinking (not NOT thinking)!
Settle in.
Hey, Siri: 20-minute timer.
“Twenty minutes and counting.”
a s d f j k l ;
Rest there.
Open the veins.
Say it.
What else is there?
William Stafford
reminds me to find
“the precious little area of confusion
when I do not know what I am going to say
and then
I find out
what I am going to say.”
That is all I ask.
That is enough.
Allison, you make it sound so simple!
Allison – I’m glad I cycled back in this morning to find your poem. You are awesome! That you set a timer (thank you, Siri-LOL) is just so inspiring! You are a force! The asdf… laying of those fingers on the keys is just amazing! Your whole process here speaks volumes about your strength not only as a poet, but also as a human being. Your drive (Open the veins) and focus (say it) would make Stanford proud and me awed. Wonderful!!! You are an inspiration! Thank you, Susie
Every time I read your response–to my poem or to others’–I think: I want to respond like that. You make me feel valued and HEARD. You’re the best.
Love that you set a timer. Your question is so powerful – “What else is there?”
to sit down and writ
the best place to sit – out back on the porch
feet mounted on the wall
but if I find myself indoors
I’m at my desk facing the window
gazing out at the trees
before I pick up my pen
I take time to read a poem
time to think about the poet’s work
a look for sparks
there’s no grand introduction
an open notebook, add the date
and spill the stuff in my head
out on to the page
I write til I give out of steam or ideas or direction
I read and ponder
wonder what I had to say
had I considered that thought at all
a moment of insight
or merely a spilling of words
I love how you’ve captured the “spilling of words” that journaling allows us. I really liked the visual of you mounting your feet on the wall when writing out of doors.
Jamie,
I like how you talk about your writing and how in different atmospheres you do something different. Whether you are inside of out it doesn’t matter because writing is important to you. My favorite lines “there’s no grand introduction
an open notebook, add the date
and spill the stuff in my head
out on to the page ”
that’s exactly how I feel when I write! You did an amazing job of capturing your writing.
I rise before the sun, one dog yapping in my face,
another curling into my belly,
and a third gently nuzzling my armpit.
We all dash to relieve our bladders.
We jockey for position on the couch
trying to juggle belly scratches,
a steaming cup of Constant Comment,
and the iPad jolting us awake
with pandemic statistics.
We sit quietly
listening and watching
to see who will visit.
If we are lucky, like today,
it will be a dazzling Baltimore Oriole passing through
on the way to a better breeding ground.
The stillness inspires me.
I write.
Mo,
I love the image of you w/ your fur babies awaking and lounging in the couch. I see the pups “jockeying for belly scratches.” Love the bird image, too. I’ve noticed stillness at the heart of several poems today, and they all have me looking forward to tomorrow morning and the quiet space to write. Thank you.
—Glenda
Mo — This flurry of furry that starts your day makes me smile. I too am before the sun and dog and dash “to relieve our bladders” rings true. Those “statistics” insert that wicked “jolt.” I so admire that you find the quiet and wait for the birds. We have much in common, my friend. Keep writing! I love it! Susie
Mo! I think I’d be so elated to be one of your dogs! How sweet and loving this is!
My favorite lines:
The stillness inspires me.
I write.
Almost made me want to be there until you mentioned the bird. LOL I don’t do birds. But it’s a lovely morning with Mo.
I had to look up “Constant Comment”! Now I’m in the know!
That iPad jolting us with COVID stats was spot on. Pre-COVID I never checked the news before coffee and reading; now I check before even getting out of bed.
I LOVE your watchfulness and your acceptance of a small bird’s motion as your raison d’etre.
Beautiful poem <3
Jessica and Kole, thank you for a fun prompt today. My favorite lines of your poem are:
I search for a place of escape
from noise and such
Finding those escapes lately from “noise and such” seems to be a regular necessity, an essential for survival.
I really loved the easy flow too. Made me believe it’s effortless to write. I hope it is.
I love baking so I am led to write my “process” in terms of baking. (Chef’s hat and apron on!)
Let My Poem Rise
By Stacey L. Joy, ©April 29, 2020
My poem floats in space
Much like the cake before it’s baked
I gather my tools
Scatter them about, no rules
Preheat my soul in prayer or meditation
Read a passage or poem for inspiration
-One cup of ideas related to life
-Three cups of descriptions to add flavor
-An ounce of sudden but critical strife
-A heaping heart of passion for someone to savor
My raw poem bakes for about 6 hours
Sometimes it doesn’t rise, missing connective powers
Other times it comes out rich and light
Take a slice and say, “Mmm, I can write!”
Stacey,
What a perfect extended metaphor! More often than not, your slices are delish!!
Well, doggone, Stacey — How’d you do this so smooth and yeasty and sweet?! Cake indeed! I love the thought of you with your chef’s hat and apron, stirring up the batter of a fine poem. The play on words is lovely… “rise” … LOL let my poem rise –love that! The rhymes and repeated sounds ensure this is, indeed, light. “Preheat my soul” — that’s great! Listing ingredients… so witty and accurate! I want some of that cake! Dish it up! You had fun doing this, I can tell. It makes me smile and giggle. Really love it. Susie
I especially like the concept of preheating your soul. And then the ingredients. One tasty extended metaphor!
Preheat my soul in prayer or meditation
Read a passage or poem for inspiration
This is perfect, or shall I say well done? I also love the idea of a raw poem baking. By the way, I love to bake, too!
Stacey,
This is a tasty treat you’ve baked for us. The title is stunning, and I’m in ? heaven reading the recipe. My favorite lines are “My poem floats in space / Much like the cake before it’s baked.” And I must ask, do you remember the book “Like Water for Chocolate”? Your poem made me think about it. Thank you.
—Glenda
Thank you Glenda. I remember the book! Didn’t read it or maybe was forced to and therefore didn’t. I did see the movie and loved it. Maybe I should read the book. ♥️
Vibration and instrumentals awake me from my slumber
The orange snooze option wins
Twice
Yet, my dozing is disturbed
By birds warming up their vocals
And my brain ticking off to dos
Soft morning light peeks through the blinds
Coffee drip, drips and gurgles into the pot,
while my keurig saves the day
Providing the quick espresso shot
“Alexa, play songs by the Lumineers”
Open up the laptop
A million tabs already pop up
Thesaurus.com ready to roll
Sketchpad and flair pens
Coral, mint, and navy
Close my eyes
Take a breath,
Daily prayer.
Come Holy Spirit…
Open up my mind and heart.
Positive affirmations
Reminders of self worth.
Cross myself, say Amen.
Pen to paper
worries like vapor
Drift away
Words spill out
Mind.
Body.
Soul, relaxes
Lines begin to form
Jennifer,
I am glad to know that I am not alone in my tendency to have a glut of tabs open!
Jennifer, you’ve really expressed the movement of your morning so well here. I feel the immediate rush of the start of the day and the pressure to get moving. I really appreciate how you slow things down and get down to what’s important. It works so well visually for me!
The Unprocess
Averse to outlines (so constricting)
I write from the proverbial
seat of my pants
Until
I’m wrapped in mixed metaphor
and cliche
So
tell myself I need structure,
discipline
Or not
Sometimes the muse
strikes in frenzied morning
hopped up on
strong coffee with
my cream and sugar
Write! Write! Write!
Sometimes in the evening
salacious words tumble into
clarity with crushed grapes,
the scent of earth and citrus
Shhh, then …
Slowly undress the words,
savor the sounds,
peel away layers of inhibition,
Naked, exposed,
draw breath from the soul,
write life
Sometimes in the evening
salacious words tumble into
clarity with crushed grapes,
the scent of earth and citrus
This stanza just rolls out, Tammi. It is rich and sensual, leading perfectly into the final stanza. Salacious words… love that phrase!
Tammi,
Your language here is beautiful!
You do a great job of showing how sometimes it varies by the time of day.
Favorite line:
“Slowly undress the words,
Tammi, those last two stanzas just build – – like a glass of wine being poured and the awareness coming into full color, and the baring of the soul to whatever comes next – – how metaphorically sensual this is!
Just Jump
Writing
Reminds me of
The time we were standing
On the edge of a 15 foot cliff
Overlooking the river
Staring at the wet moss
Wiggling my toes
Imagining myself slipping
Banging my head
Drowning just for fun
Then that 10-year-old kid
Just kept jumping in
Over
And over
With not one imaginary fear
And when I forced myself
To jump
I remember that fall
Lasting just a second
Too long
But then I was hitting
The water
And then I was exiting
The water
And I didn’t drown
And it was fun
But anyway
That’s what
Writing
Reminds me of
Jessica and Kole, thanks for this thought-provoking prompt! Thinking about our own process and reading about others has been inspiring and informative.
We vets love seeing aspiring educators join the circle of colleagues in our profession and look forward to seeing more from each of you as earn your certification and are assigned to your own sets of students. Stay in touch!
“I draw my ink from”
another frustrating encounter with a student.
a disappointing conversation with a coworker.
an argument after dinner.
my intuition squaring up with my intellect.
the trembling, yet unwavering need for gloves-off bitching.
the pending therapy session.
beautiful words wherever and whenever they find me.
fleeting observations surely supercharged with meaning.
teaching by example.
Laura, These lines “my intuition squaring up with my intellect.” remind us that writing is a way of processing such thinking. Our writing probably has saved “many a life!” and many a career. Thanks for sharing.
Laura – even your title is terrific…”draw my ink from” gives the process such a life force…like blood. And your sources are so chocked full of the images that make a piece of writing resonate and and real. I like the idea of “intuition squaring up with intellect.” And of course, “teaching by example.” Amen!! Thank you, Susie
Laura, sometimes the frustrating experiences you wrote about in your first stanza are what keep me from writing…I feel like I’m in the wrong headspace. But I love that you use it to feed the “unwavering need for gloves-off bitching.” And “teaching by example,” YES! I think we all want our students to be able to use writing therapeutically… great last line!
Laura, I love the title of this poem and the truth in it. Your words “beautiful words wherever and whenever they find me” perfectly capture the way inspiration can strike.
Laura, Thank you for sharing this poem with us. I like that you incorported a lot of yourself in this poem and showed a more frustrting side of life. Thank you
Laura,
your first lines drew me in! This is beautiful! I loved the last stanza “beautiful words wherever and whenever they find me.
fleeting observations surely supercharged with meaning.
teaching by example.” Words come to you whenever you are and at even given moment, and you must try to jot them down before they leave!
[My writing process depends in large part on the type of writing. Writing with prompts like we are doing here on ethicalela.com is quite different in some ways. I both love it and hate it…at first. There is no denying that it always pushes me, and that’s what I love. It often bubbles down, rendering into the poem process I’ve tried to capture below. Susie]
Percolating Poems
Laptop,
blank Word doc,
I start a letter
to someone I love —
a like-minded sister or sista, someone real,
who loves me despite the tripe
I write,
never a critic, minds not that I blather
‘bout what’s going on:
my dog, the weather, books, how to cook,
headlines that needle, politicians
who wheedle their wormy words into my wits;
letters surprisingly long,
that let me shape my words, my rant,
what roils inside;
cut and paste into an email
or slap on a stamp, send.
I’ve primed my pump.
New Word doc,
swipe a nugget from the letter –
granite, diamond, gold, or coal –
what matters:
who needs to hear me out,
who’s that sorry bastard who deserves my words,
who thinks frozen Pillsbury is as good as my homemade crust,
who’s that prince, blind to his own reflection in the mirror,
who’s thinks there’s only one side to that coin,
who’s the gone guy who left behind turds and didn’t flush,
who perpetuates injustice like pus from a sore that won’t heal?
I put that person in my crosshairs,
layer meanings into my words
so they will ignite a connection,
light a fuse,
stick in the craw
of that one soul
who needed a dose
of what I had to say.
Then, I let ‘er rip,
dump it on the keyboard,
stripe it across that white page —
think not about a poem;
that comes later.
This is about the bubbling juice,
the venom and vomit,
the guts and grit,
spittle and splinters,
scabs and scars,
the ooze and blues –
I’m a firehose
on wide-open.
Wordplay,
colors and sounds,
specificity, rearranging,
recreating,
reciting out loud
over and over
to hear cadence
and crescendos
till my attitude echoes,
and I can hear myself
and reckon
so can everyone else
hear the bullet’s report
tearing the red out of the bullseye.
Always too narrative,
I wield the ax
chop the chaff,
realign,
dump empty noise,
read it loud,
raise my voice,
listen — does it resonate —
and walk away,
incubate, let it percolate.
Later,
make a choice —
a poem?
It’s a draft.
It’s always just a draft.
by Susie Morice©
Susie,
I see you replicating the writing process we all know in this glorious poem: the generating of ideas, the prewriting, the drafting, the revising, the realizing we’re never finished with a piece but merely walk away from it, perhaps to return another day. I love “
headlines that needle, politicians
who wheedle their wormy words into my wits.” The alliteration tickles my fancy. I love thinking about the firehose metaphor turned on and letting the ideas flow, dumping words on the targets that need them—all based on purpose. I’m over here cheering loudly for every utterance. Thank you.
—Glenda
Susie, I love all of your imagery. You make your writing process (which looks similar to mine) seem so magical–although, I know the process cannot always be so neat and inspired! Lines I love: “New Word doc,/swipe a nugget from the letter –/granite, diamond, gold, or coal,” stanza 3!, and, of course, “It’s always just a draft.”
Susie—I was loving it all—every bit—and then I hit this gem:
the venom and vomit,
the guts and grit,
spittle and splinters,
scabs and scars,
the ooze and blues –
I’m a firehose
on wide-open.
This is just an amazing collection of words!! The alliteration, the grossness of it all—I bow before you! And then the end—it’s always a draft… Love this!
I love how freely you write here! Your beginning with word associations (“Laptop, blank Word doc,”) leads you to all sorts of profound thoughts on the writing process. I agree with Gayle, those lines really hit me. And great ending, especially throwing in “always” in the repetition. This whole #verselove month has made me wonder over and over, when is a poem ever really done?
I love the way your poem percolates from casual conversation to passion and outrage. I totally know that feeling of bleeding on the page. You really captured the process so beautifully. Love the ending.
Susie,
Even your writing about writing is genius!!
I very much relate to when you say “always too narrative” but I think you do a wonderful job of wielding the ax.
It is always a draft, isn’t it?
Love this part:
“politicians
who wheedle their wormy words into my wits;”
Susie, this right here: – I love it:
that comes later.
This is about the bubbling juice,
the venom and vomit,
the guts and grit,
spittle and splinters,
scabs and scars,
the ooze and blues –
I’m a firehose
on wide-open.
Oh, the venom and vomit that spews and gets hacked up like pneumonia phlegm as we prepare to write. This is absolutely the most beautifully accurate emotional and reactionary contortionism description I think I have ever in my life read, and this bubbling juice is so on point. Wow! Just wow!
Susie, I absolutely adore this poem. Your words have such a zing. The sound, the emotion, the rhythm all create a powerful punch. I agree that it’s often better to let a poem percolate and that “it’s always just a draft” . As always, much impressed!
One day I will write.
I will rise early like Toni Morrison
I will establish a hard and fast routine
I will have coffee with no company
I will have a little lamp which shares its light only with my work
I will write with fountain pen on parchment paper
I will sit at an antique oak desk with plenty of legroom.
I will be present
I will be at one with myself and with the universe
I will tap the depths of my soul
I will read Annie Dillard and re-read Anne Lamott
I will be inspired.
I will be productive.
One day I will write
Katrina,
The repetition in here is so hopeful and exudes a goal, a self-promise, a sense that you want and deserve it. I am also reading this paradoxically because you ARE writing now, so your “I Will'” poem is one writing process, one writing experience that you “will write,” which means to me that there are many writing processes. There is no “one” way but merely “a” way that “will’ become another. Cheers! So appreciated having you in this writing process with us all, Katrina.
Sarah
Katrina, your poem makes me smile. Even this month as I’ve written daily (for the first time ever), I still hear the voice in my head also promising myself that “I will” commit to a writing regimen in one or another. Gotta stay optimistic! Thanks for sharing!
This poem is inspiring, Katrina! You’ve described a lovely utopian day in the life.
Katrina — This poem really resonates with me. I always feel like I’m not enough, and I will never be a writer even though I do all the things writers do: write, read, belong to critique groups. This poem feels like affirmation and sometimes this just what we all need.
My Daily Routine
I’m not disciplined, let’s get that straight
I don’t like schedules, they let me know when I’m late
But every morning I rise at 9:30 a.m.
I do my wash and then I stretch my limbs
Sometimes it is earlier, but most likely, not
Sometimes it is later when I don’t have a lot
To do that day, I lounge for just a little bit;
No thought of when to rise; it is heaven I’ll admit
Once up and washed it’s time to eat my mundane cuisine
Of yogurt, walnuts, pineapple and blueberries. It’s lean
I know; but it’s quick, nutritious and easy
Add a coffee and V8 juice, so easy-peasy
Now, it’s time to pray and thank the LORD for a new day
It is never easy for me to do; I often don’t know what to say
Repeating myself day after day is not what I want to do
Praying is just a conversation with GOD, heartfelt and true
I might sing a song, count my blessing and pray for those I love
I listen and read along with my morning devotional, for insight from above
Then it’s time to read the Scriptures, I began months ago at Genesis
Now I’m into John (the gospel) and time proves to be my nemesis
I get so engrossed I lose track of it and before I know it, poof it’s twelve o’clock
It’s not until my husband walks in and I hear a gently knock
That I realize the morning is spent and I need a good jump-start
To do the tasks I had planned to do, well, at least, in part
Evening comes, diner is done and we love to watch TV
Together, each night we cuddle up tight, my hubby-luvvy and me
Soon, for me it gets boring, but he is so engrossed
This is the time I grab pen and pad and in my writing I get lost
Sounds of gunfire, screams and things do not seem to bother me
I find it, oddly, comforting as I strive to write my own, “To be, or not to be”
Note: As you can see my routine is off. I have something to do this evening, so, here I sit in the quiet afternoon
alone in my den with no television or other distractions writing my poem for today. Go figure!
I love how the day does its thing while you accept it waiting for the mood or opportunity to write. In this “routine,” you are settled in and free to let you mind wander to the page. I find that I tire of TV, too, and that is when I read. And I love the rhythm and rhyme here that offers whimsy!
Sarah
Donna,
I’m immediately drawn to the emphatic tone in “I’m not disciplined, let’s get that straight
I don’t like schedules, they let me know when I’m late.” I loved taking this journey through your day and arriving at “I strive to write my own, “To be, or not to be”” one of my favorite soliloquy’s opening line. Thank you.
-Glenda
Donna, you’ve given us lines to describe many of our days. I hope you don’t mind if we smile as we quote you.
That I realize the morning is spent and I need a good jump-start
To do the tasks I had planned to do, well, at least, in part
The rhyming couplets march along describing the wonderful ways you spend your days…even when you don’t get done all that is planned.
Thanks for sharing.
I love the honesty of your poem and routine. The rhythm and rhyme made me smile. Thank you for sharing!
The Athena Process
He asked me about my writing process.
“Process?” I replied. “There’s no process, really.
It’s more of an event.
There is an idea first.
And then there is nothing for a while.
and the idea swirls around somewhere, picking up
bits and pieces of my life.
emerging as a late-adolescent poem,
Nearly grown, but not quite ready for prime time—
like Athena, bursting forth dressed and ready to go
from Zeus’s head.”
The words leap out, demanding
quick fingers on the keyboard and then
there they are on the page.
Waiting for me to twitch their clothing into place
before they go outside to meet the reader.
He walked away shaking his head. I don’t think I gave him
the answer he was looking for.
Such a great allusion here! I just finished reading Julieta and the Diamond Enigma to my niece and nephew in Chicago. Athena was the clue to solving the mystery, and I would not have “got” your reference had I not read that chapter book this past month. Love intertextuality. And boy do I enjoy that image of words “leaping out” !
Sarah
Gayle,
Turning writing from process to event is genius. Love the way you explicate the writing event w/ the allusions you’re Athens and Zeus. The personification is enticing, especially in the image “Waiting for me to twitch their clothing into place.” Framing the poem w/ the prompt and ending w/ a return to it makes this very good poem fantastic. Thank you.
—Glenda
Gayle, these are lines I’d like to share with students during those hard times between draft and publish and they ask why they have to revise. I could quote you and say their draft needs to get dressed before being seen in public, even if it’s just for the next round of peer-feedback!
Waiting for me to twitch their clothing into place
before they go outside to meet the reader.
Love it!
Gayle – This is beautiful…Athena references …so on target..loved “twitching their clothing into place”— marvelous! And your overall structure is that cycle bringing me back to the guy at the start…dandy! I totally loved thinking of your process described this way. Wowza!! Thank you! Susie
Gayle, I love the allusion to Athena and Zeus, and your ending “he walked away shaking his head/ I don’t think I gave him the answer he was looking for” was priceless. People, even those close to us, just don’t get it.
Jessica and Kole, Thanks for sharing your delightful poem. I wish you both the very best of luck as you pursue your dreams of becoming English teachers. I’ve loved being an English teacher, but after forty years, I’ve decided to retire. Students need teachers who write with them; it’s the thing I’ve enjoyed the most about teaching. I just know you’re both going to be great!
Rainy Day Wednesday
Wake to a rainy day
Curl up and escape
To another world
With Liobhan, Dau, and Brocc
Searching for the The Harp of Kings
Rise and devise today’s plan but
Be distracted by an oriole’s brilliant orange hue
Attempt to photograph it
Before it flits away
Fail miserably
Fight against feeling like the river below
Churning a murky blue gray
Refocus
Visit Google Classroom
Respond to work in a thoughtful way; then
Find a word puzzle to play
Later, drive reluctantly to town
Clean and recycle a mountain of files but
Cry happy tears when unearthing
Student research projects from the 80s
Quietly laugh at your inability to throw things away
Reward your diligent efforts
By logging online to
Cry, laugh, and cheer
And feel blessed
By reading incredible poetry
Shared by the peeps at
Ethical ELA
Barb Edler
April 29, 2020
Thank you, Barb! I am just swimming in your imagery and feel like the colors are a lovely warm water washing over me as I read, just movement and joy throughout. I feel safe in your writing space and would just like to say that I feel “blessed” that you have been with us this month to write.
Sarah
Sarah, thank you so much. I truly appreciate your kind words and have enjoyed everyone’s thoughtful and considerate responses.
Barb,
I have a tear in each eye after reading your poem. It touches me deeply w/ its nature imagery and nostalgic tone honoring past students, reminiscing about those days gone by. I still have student papers from the 1980s, am still sorting through the files, reliving the various stages of my teaching life. This moving on from a long career (38 years for me) is so hard but also rewarding. Then I reached the poem’s end, and, well, I’m feeling blessed, too. Thank you. ❤️
—Glenda
Barb—- Every one of these process points meanders through the reality of writing life. I chuckled at how realistic these are: find a word puzzle (I start most days that way), distracted by an oriole (for me it’s a kestrel or a cardinal), and finally log on. This really is a dandy community of writers! Thank you for this honest image. Susie
I was swept away by your beautiful details “Be distracted by an oriole’s brilliant orange hue/Attempt to photograph it/Before it flits away and “Fight against feeling like the river below/Churning a murky blue gray.” Gorgeous distractions. Love the way you found your way back to the poetry.
Barb, congratulations on your retirement. I envy your forthcoming absence of so many deadlines and a clock governing when you do what you do. It will be wonderful to have more time to enjoy the birds and books and other things you love. Those last few lines – – this group is certainly a treasure, isn’t it? After Zoom meetings and household chores and troubleshooting technology issues and responding to emails and texts and………everything else we do, ……it sure is nice to have incredible poems awaiting us.
I wake up and think of all my thoughts
I wonder to myself if I want to write or not
Then I continue with my day
and try to think of things to write a certain way
Sometimes I feel inspired
Sometimes it takes me a while to fuel the fire
Will it be love or hate?
Will I want to write about my faith?
Does abandonment sound like something fun to write?
Or should I write about all of the horrible fights?
Perhaps all that I’ve lost?
Or maybe what I’ve done for a cost?
I can also write about something great
Like the first time I went to a camping lake?
I could write about when I danced as a little girl?
or when I realized that my hair had curls?
Then when I finally make my decision
I try to find the best words to tell my vision
Then I began to write
and all my troubles leave my life
I often follow this pattern too – just going about my day with the prompt in the back of my mind, debating different ideas until I finally decide on something and just sit down and write. I love how you described all the different inspirations in your life – often the biggest question is “how vulnerable do I really want to be today??”
Naydeen, I can totally relate to your writing process. The questions you share are particularly thought-provoking and I feel I ask very similar questions. Your end is what I enjoyed the most as I do think writing is a way to escape and a way to heal all the troubles that come one’s way.
Oh, Naydeen. You nailed this…this idea that it is all the before — the questioning, the self-doubt, the wondering, the uncertainty — that keeps us from writing, but once we get there, it feels so good. If only we could not have to “make a decision” and just do it. Ugh. Visually, all the question marks at the end of the lines strikes me as art.
Sarah
Naydeen, thanks so much for sharing another reason for writing as expressed in your closing lines,
Then I began to write
and all my troubles leave my life
Another good reason to allow students to write what they don’t have to share with others. Sometimes when we’ve done a “brain dump” in a quick write, our minds are cleared and open to new ideas
Thanks for confirming this value of writing.
Naydeen, I like the detail that you use in the story to describe this process. It was like I was with every step of the journey. Thank you for this poem.
First one up, always.
Find a pair of clean shorts and a t-shirt –
nobody to impress during quarantine.
Start the pot of Folgers – gotta prime the pump.
It’s an eight-cup day.
Delete emails while the coffee brews.
How much of one’s life is spent pressing miniature trash cans?
Okay, okay, okay, just a minute!
Fill a travel cup and take the dog on walk #1 –
lots of dog-walking during quarantine.
Toast a bagel. Not really hungry, but I do it anyway –
lots of unnecessary eating during quarantine.
Sit down, alone, at the dining room table slash home office slash second grade classroom –
no large groups dining during quarantine.
Listen to NPR and feel the frustration level gradually rise.
Click the X on that window and open a new document.
The calming drone of the air conditioner signals that it’s time to write –
lots of time to write during quarantine.
Haha I definitely cracked up reading: “How much of one’s life is spent pressing miniature trash cans?” So true. I also loved your description of your table – “dining room table slash home office slash second grade classroom.” Your poem is a perfect description of the quarantine life – no time table, just moseying on through.
Shaun,
Thank you for taking us into your morning routine and head space during quarantine. The letters stand out to me at the end NPR X — these are like codes that inch you closer to the page to write maybe. What else strikes me is the toasting of the bagel even though you are not hungry. Is it the ritual? Is it your body that wants nourishment but your mind not wanting — hmm. I am not thinking of my routine a bit differently.
Sarah
Shaun, I so enjoy your narrative, especially when your dog apparently is demanding your attention. It’s so interesting to consider your environment as I had to wear a coat today. Your ending remark is so true; one thing that has kept me going is the ability to indulge myself with my own writing endeavors. Thanks for being such an inspiration throughout this past month.
Shaun, I’m glad you didn’t dump this prompt in the way described in this line,
“How much of one’s life is spent pressing miniature trash cans?”
We would have missed the smile and exercise of nodding our heads because we do the same so many days before we begin to write.
Thanks for being here and for verbalizing what many may feel.
Shaun – The tone of quarantine hangs heavy in your piece…the strategic blow by blow is pleasingly graphic…almost like taking along a shadow to walk with you through a day that is very quiet yet loaded with the tiny sounds of a coffee pot, dog paws, a toaster, quiet munching, the “Drone of the air conditioner.” A real day in quarantine-land. The image of you recreating a 2nd grade classroom at your dining table really hits the mark with how solemn these days are. I feel for you. Not a normal expectation. Whew! I really liked this piece a lot. Save this and read it sometime way down the road…a worthy archival piece for this year in your teaching life. Thank you so much! Susie
Shaun, the “nobody to impress during quarantine” on your 8-cup day with a dog walk and shape-shifting spaces (table, classroom, office) and NPR has me feeling right at home in your words. Oh. And the “lots of unnecessary eating during quarantine.” I’m hanging my head in shame, too……..I, too, have no excuses.
Ritual
Coffee in bed
Courtesy of my fiancé
“Quarantine is not so bad”
Reach for my phone
Facebook, Instagram
Twitter, the news, email
#Verselove
Read it
Dissect it
Self-doubt
“Maybe, I’ll skip today”
Refocus
Read
Grateful for the early writers
Blown away by their talent
Brain starts working
More coffee
Yoga time
a treat
it feels great
maybe I can do it
Energized, I get ready
One may think I’ve forgotten
But that is not the case
Brain secretly at work
More coffee
Time to work
I turn on my computer
Grades
Google Classroom
Google Meet
Maybe today will go better
Teach
Break
Teach
Break
Teach
Break
BREATHE
Today is not better
Sick of virtual teaching
Parents
Students
It’s never-ending
Last cup of coffee
I’m exasperated
Brains still secretly at work
empty cup
I need my refuge
I need my haven
I need my escape
I’m ready
Sipping hot tea
I start typing
I wonder how many of us follow a similar wake-up. Yours is very similar to mine with the phone, facebook, twitter, news, #verselove, self-doubt routine! I have often thought “Maybe I’ll just skip today” too. But I’m so glad you didn’t. I would have missed all the head nodding to your writing, the connection you make to us as writers. That image of morning coffee and later hot tea and brains secretly at work.
Monica,
Visually, I am drawn to the repetition of words and the lines that have single words and the capitalized words — these strike be as activity between actions or something of the body resisting the routine, knowing it is not quite right. Hmmm, love the final image of tea and writing. So glad you were with us this month, Monica. Hugs.
Sarah
Monica, I so enjoyed reading your poem. I completely agree about virtual teaching. I appreciate what Google classroom has to offer, but it cannot replace the face to face time to discuss, reflect, share, think, collaborate…etc. The way you stack your words to reflect your actions is so effective, another way I can relate. Then you end with “I need my haven/I need my escape”….yes, it’s just that way! Loved it! Thanks so much for sharing today!
Monica, thanks for “being there” for the students and their parents as you prepare, teach and monitor online learning designed to be taught in person. I can only imagine how frustrating it must be for those who have students without access to devices, reliable access to broadband, and available parents!
Glad, too, that your lines below suggest that meeting with us here helps!
I need my refuge
I need my haven
I need my escape
I’m ready
Take care. We’re glad you’re there! Safe at home, even though wanting to roam.
Monica – You really nailed the momentum of the day…the reality of its rise and fall carries me with you…and the repetitions create that tedium of what is actually happening with the long day of distance learning. A brutal reality of what teachers are losing by not getting at their kids except thru screens and remote connections. Whoof. The coffee aptly carries you along until it finally yields to the soothe of tea and settling into writing. Hang in there! This is a really vivid poem. Thank you!! Susie
Planted somewhere,
deep within mental humus,
below thickly mulched layers of must-dos and worries
and appointments and chores and check-lists,
lies the smallest seed
suspended
and biding time.
Great things happen in silence.
Jennifer,
Humus as metaphor offers unique insight into your writing process and what nourishes it. Love the mulch imagery as well and can picture the seed of an idea awaiting germinating. I seek silence when writing, so your last line is golden for me. Lovely poem. Thank you.
—Glenda
The metaphor really works. I especially like the image of “the smallest seed suspended and biding time.”
I like the imagery of the seed down there below the mulch. And I agree. Great things do happen in silence…
Yes! Those ideas are in there…just got to get to some silence to let them bubble up. Love the idea of the smallest seed.
The nature, the natural space here strikes me as having a sense of knowing that the modern spaces miss or are ignorant to — this “biding time” is powerful.
Sarah
I keep going back to the second line “deep within mental humus” – such a great metaphor. I like how the mundane elements are moved aside for the “smallest seed” that becomes writing of “great things” – great job!
Jennifer,
Like the seed you write about, your poem is so gentle and delicate. I love the image of your brain being composed of layers of mulch and earth cultivating your ideas.
Jennifer, the metaphor of the seed works so well here and extending it with other garden words give this poem power. Thanks for showing how succinctly one can recreate a scene with carefully selected images.
Jennifer – I love the image of the seed…beautiful metaphor! I totally loved “ thickly mulched layers of must-dos.” And I do believe in your last line…”great things happen in silence.” Live this! Thank you, Susie
Quiet.
Unless I have headphones, to make my own quiet.
I don’t need much else,
Except, of course, my notebook and a working pen.
Tea, is a plus, preferably green.
,
Particular, I am not, about where I write.
Lately, I have been sitting on the cozy loveseat in the front room.
Even the dining room table works, there in the bright sun.
Also, I like to write in the spare bedroom upstairs.
Sometimes, weather permitting, I can write outside, on my porch.
Each of these places is great, and often I wander between them.
Quiet, please.
I love all these conjunctive adverbs — lately, also — and the commas that give us pause and conditions throughout — so much has to be in place, or not, and there is a need but flexibility. Just love the “wander” between it all.
Sarah
Maureen, I like how you know what you need. Quiet is the key. Lots of lovely places you have to write. They are explained well. I can picture your dining room table with the sun on it. It has been a joy to see how each person writes today. Thank you for sharing what allows you to write your beautiful poems.
Maureen,
Your poem and Jennifer’s both honor silence. I love that and the implied respect silence offers ideas by diving them space to grow. I have an image of you on the loveseat, at the table, in the porch, in an upstairs spare room, all places harmonious to writing. I have a deck but not much of a front porch. Houses here rarely have expansive s porches, and this is something I wanted and wish I’d insisted on when we built our home. Anyway, your writing life sounds a lot like mine. Thank you.
—Glenda
Maureen—I am at a loss to tell you why I love your poem so much. It is comfortable, and the space provided—both in the arrangement and the words themselves—allows me to settle in and enjoy myself. Hmmm.
Windows
A window near
and natural sunlight
are strong enough to
pull insecurities away to
erase blocks
Twirling of the pen
it’s a propeller of black ink
thoughts, feelings
spill and drown the page
until it is no longer white
From the flood
emerges one word, one phrase,
one emotion
I carry the glimmer in my hands
to a new page
Pen sometimes moves even
without my eyes on the page
because once more
the warmth calls my attention
to the window
Nice, starting and ending at the window, where many wonders can be found and written about. It is a positive version of a Catch-22, maybe. Your attention to the window for inspiration and back to the page. Your poem shows the work of a writer–the twirling propeller spills out, in fact drowns and floods the page. But what emerges is all that writing, but just a morsel to carry to the new page. Wow. What a lot of work. Many people would say it’s not worth the work, so they don’t see the benefits like you do with your patience. These are beautiful images, especially in those middle two stanzas. I am learning SOOO much today!
Emily, I love how your poem shows writing as a living breathing thing. It “glimmers” and “drowns” the page. The propeller image was very strong; it’s a whirring wonderful thing. Framing the opening and the end with the warmth from the window is so effective. I like how it both inspires and distracts. Very enjoyable read!
Emily, you now living San Diego, may not realize how compelling and distracting warmth at the window is us who live in Western Michigan! We’ve had few consecutive days of temps over 50 degrees. 🙁 (I moved here from San Diego. )
When the light of the sun breaks through the clouds, it has used up its energy and often appears as light without warmth.
Still, the lines in your poem work for me! Something usually distracts me and without discipline, I would get little writing done and ready to share. Thankfully, this group welcomes drafts!
Oh, Emily! That propeller of black ink……I love this metaphor. The propeller spinning….ink splattering the thoughts onto the white page until it is white no more. Simply stunning.
Emily – Your poem and the pull of the window reminds me of a Billy Collins poem when he describes the window in his own process. Can’t remember the name of the poem, but you two were in sync! I was particularly drawn to the process of moving to a new page. I do that same thing. It seems like an effective act of distillation. Cool! I really enjoyed “watching you write”! Thank you, Susie
Jessica and Kole,
Thank you for the refreshing inspiration today and for the wonderful mentor poem.
unblocking the block
blink sleep from my eyes
roll over to grab my glasses and a book
quietly exit the bedroom so as not to wake the hubs or the pup
walk to the kitchen
tap the Keurig power
return pots and pans from the night before
sit down at my makeshift desk and
power up the laptop
brew the coffee
add the hazelnut almond milk creamer
check out its 46 open tabs to decide what’s calling me first
open up Blessed Is She email and read today’s mass readings and devotion
sit with the mug to my chest reading
click on the previous day’s poetry challenge to see if I missed anything after I went to bed
open today’s and copy and paste it into a Doc
save it over to my Drive for future reference
study the mentor text
feel inferior
be inspired
open another Doc, the blank slate
switch to email
attend to pressing student needs
spend the next 10 hours toggling among the tabs
stare out the window periodically for inspiration
gaze upward occasionally for divine intervention
move to the couch
escape to the patio
open my heart
tap the keys
let the words flow
yearn to be heard
yearn to hear myself.
~Susan Ahlbrand
29 April 2020
Love all the ‘prep work’, a readying through movement, before writing – and the honest words about what each of us always feels, “feel inferior” … this leads to “yearn to be heard/yearn to hear myself.”
Susan, you have some great ideas here. I am making mental notes. This made me laugh out: “study the mentor text / feel inferior / be inspired” Once you opened the blank slate, I noticed you retreated. Hmmm, I can relate. Is it time to simmer and stew during those ten hours or a bit of fear? I really like this process! Especially when you finally commit and let the words flow. My favorite lines are “yearn to be heard / yearn to hear myself” Wow!
Right there—there it is!
“ open my heart
tap the keys
let the words flow
yearn to be heard
yearn to hear myself.”
Open your heart and let the words flow. That is the essence of poetry.
Susan, the flow of the day is pulsing and pressing forward, and all the while becoming the words that you share as you give us a glimpse into your world today. This is fabulous! I am feeling more normal today as I read your poem and others’ and realize that I am not alone as I jump through the waffle squares of my day and look forward to writing as the thing that grounds me and gives me peace like it does for you.
Process
I read the topic
and the mentor text
I marvel at the samples and
wonder if I’m a fraud
then realize I’m not
I think of previous writings
I remember students, daughters,
friends, family, situations
I ponder how revealing to be.
Hurts, successes, events, strengthenings
ALL come into my brain
as I consider how much to confess.
All of this is done with a huge mug of
Kona Joe coffee and the quiet of a morning.
Seana, thank you for sharing your poem.
Yes! I often feel the tug of imposter syndrome kicking in. Sometimes when I’m feeling extra vulnerable or uncertain, I try my hardest not to read the other samples until I’ve posted my own!
This is such a universal feeling: “wonder if I’m a fraud”! It is extraordinary how our “friends, family, situations,” everything washes over us, allowing us to open up and write. I like the slope of your poem on the page, how each line grows just a little longer, like writing one word after another.
Seana, yes, I definitely wonder if I’m a fraud too. I love how quickly you switch to “then realize I’m not.” Amen! That is awesome. I like the poem is mostly of all these inner workings and thoughts. Then as an after thought, you mention the coffee and a quiet morning, details of the physical that also shapes your proecess. Lovely job today.
I like the self-deprecating line “wonder if I’m a fraud.” So many of us suffer from that. In fact, even as a teacher, I am no stranger to the imposter syndrome.’ Thank you for owning it and showing how you work through it.
“I ponder how revealing to be . . . consider how much to confess” – I definitely feel this too! I don’t know if it’s easier or harder to be vulnerable with an audience of people I don’t know. I also love your honesty in these lines – “I . . . wonder if I’m a fraud / then realize I’m not.” Sometimes it takes a lot of work to do that second half of realizing we’re not frauds. But it’s so rewarding when we can find confidence and internalize it! Thanks for sharing!
Droplets
of warm water
pour over my head
trickle down my body
I step out, dry off, grab my MacBook
and rush to spill it all out
then
slowly,
tweak
till I’m
satisfied.
Rachel, I love the image of your poem with the blocked quotes showing what’s happening in your mind–I like the “cogs start turning” and “golden nuggets ready to be exposed.” The shower is a great place to think. I am curious if you go in with a thought or prompt you are consciously thinking of, or are they just random thoughts that as you spill it out you tweak into something satisfactorily written?
The power of a great shower! The layout of your poem is really great, with two stanzas set apart. These words speak to the power of writing: chills up and down/as I discover/small golden nuggets. Thanks for this!
Rachel, the imagery of the droplets creating a flow of your brain was so exciting to read. I really love what you did here.
Thank you for this share,
Jess
Rachel,
The cleansing power of water is a beautiful metaphor for clearing away the cobwebs and freeing our minds to write. Beautiful parallel between falling shower water and ideas emerging. Thank you.
—Glenda
fun to realize you ready in the shower, I find. that the space to decide what I will wear today
Jessica and Kole, thank you for this prompt.
Lovely thoughts here–
I think I just have to show you how my writing process works.
Wield a half millimeter black roller ball
Indite in my journal, whatever befall
Mind focused on prompt
Diversions I’ll stomp
And tomorrow I’ll pen an overhaul
A List Poem About Why That Limerick is a Lie
While writing it, I…
…answered a teacher query about post-Eid assessment changes
…recorded four Flipgrid video responses
…initiated family trivia night
…answered six What’s App texts
…and two phone calls
…warmed up and ate leftover machboos
…browsed The Washington Post
…watched my husband play a video game
…worked on my genius hour presentation
time…none like the present
8:00 a.m., noon, 3:00 p.m., 8:00 p.m., midnight, 3:00 a.m.
tools…any or all
my rollerball is probably lost, so grab a pencil or a conference freebie ball point or my computer
topics…prompts and non-prompts
letters, emails, recipes, students’ feedback, texts, poems, blog posts, lesson plans
Jessica and Kole, I have no pre-writing strategy!
Denise! Your writing made me smile today! The conference freebie ball point pens? Doesn’t everyone write with those? I am looking at the one I used this morning for today’s writing. Sometimes the writing comes without pre-writing strategies. I often share that with my students, too.
Denise,
Such a relatable poem. I love the honesty you provide!
Thank you for this share,
Jess
Denise,
I love the contrast between the ideal and the reality. The line “Why That Limerick is a Lie”
created quite the contrast and caught me off guard. Your list reminds me that all our lives, writing or not, are at the mercy of circumstances and expectations, so we fit the pen or pencil to paper in the in between. I’m thinking this prompt offers a way to see what’s happening in the learning lives of students. Thank you.
—Glenda
Denise—we have the same process!! Loved the limerick, and loved the realism of the distractions. Made me chuckle!
Denise, your process allows the soul of the day to soak in as you take in the world around you and allows it to interact with your writing – the way you did this is beautiful and authentic. Your list is so real – – you move from task to task. Ah, but your writing is always there – always happening, the memories and happenings preserved in your mind until your pen spills them out. That’s a great strategy. Look at the beauty that happened in your poem today!
The Ever-Changing Process
Evening or nighttime activity
open notes on the laptop
type and type and type
vomiting all over the keys and screen.
An extrovert surfaces
lacking discipline and order
thoughts mixed up
like a word search puzzle.
I attempt to sort.
I should write with pen and paper
but I don’t anymore.
This is what technology
has done to me.
I don’t ever write in the same way
any day.
My dad once advised me to walk
a different way to class,
never the same path.
So I start sitting upright
at laptop
until I’m deep in thought
hunched over in pain.
Or maybe I stare in the fridge too long
as if leftovers can lend a metaphor
Is there a rhyme in there?
Then I might lie down on the couch
legs up, feet to butt
laptop resting on thighs.
This is good for my mind.
Some poems require
intense mulling
or multitasking
count the syllables out on fingers
switch tabs, read an email
or countless other tasks.
Inspiration comes
from the prompt
or the cotton candy sky
or the gray choking sky
or the lush green palms
amidst concrete towers.
Not much room to grow
like my ideas sometimes.
Or a memory
I can’t quite remember,
end up spending
a significant amount of time
pondering cognitive decline.
A memory
Found
Lost
Brought back
Gone.
I don’t know
what to write
because I
don’t fully remember.
But I try,
and everything ends up
partially fiction.
Oh, Angie, boy can I relate today! This is amazing. And these inspirations: “the cotton candy sky / or the gray choking sky / or the lush green palms / amidst concrete towers.” That is one beautiful moment in your poem that hit me. You do such a great job conveying poetically what I was trying to say. “A memory / found / lost / brought back / gone ” So many great and relatable moments here.
Angie,
Both your poem and Maureen’s remind me there is no one way to approach the writing process. Your writing poses sound so familiar to many of my own. I love the image of you at the fridge shopping for ideas, your mind hungry for inspiration: “ Or maybe I stare in the fridge too long / as if leftovers can lend a / metaphor / Is there a rhyme in there?” Such a humorous injection into the poem. I thought about Nilly Collins’s poem “Forgetfulness” reading your lines about cognitive decline. It’s a treat to hear BC read the poem, and it’s online. Your last line is gold. Aren’t all our stories “partially fiction”? I love this idea. Thank you.
—Glenda
Can’t believe I hadn’t read “Forgetfulness”! Thanks for sharing. I love it.
You capture the elusive nature of writing and bring to mind the words of Stephen King in On Writing, “good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere.”
How I Start the Writing Process
I’m feeling delightfully relaxed.
Waking up slowly,
I make myself a glass of Tang and sip,
the sugary goodness gives me a familiar rush.
Thinking of my day ahead, my mind whirls,
Organizing my thoughts
Coffee now, swirling with cream and sugar.
I curl up in my cozy, overstuffed chair at my desk
I need to put on my make-up.
Out of the corner of my eye
I see a random thought peering at me intently,
“write me”, it whispers.
I can’t right now – I’ll be late to work, I explain..
“write me”, it demands in a louder voice.
I’ll get to it later, I promise!
It reaches out and grabs me by the throat,
(I didn’t know thoughts had hands)
“WRITE ME, NOW!!” it screams so loud that my ears ring
I pick up my favorite pen,
and with shaky hands
I begin to write.
I love how your personification of the writing bug grabs you and makes you write. I wish I felt this draw. Most days I am forcing the muse into view.
Judi,
First thought: I didn’t know Tang is still a thang! Second thought: Love the way “write me” builds in intensity. Those two words remind me of the plant in “Little Shop of Hortors” saying, “Feed me, Seymour, feed me now!” I think it’s good to heed the inspiration. It may float away if we don’t. Fun poem. Thank you.
—Glenda
Judi, what a great way to describe that process when we have something that just has to get out on paper. “WRITE ME, NOW!!” says it. And the grabbing by the throat is such a dramatic and powerful way to say it.
Judi, the Tang reminds me of the Hot Russian Spiced Tea my mother always made when I was little. I still make it today and think of her. That part put a big smile on my face. Your personification of writing as a demanding presence is so on point. It does consume our ability to move forward until we listen to it! Very neat perspective here.
Ready, Set, Go!
Visualizing my audience
Seeing readers holding my book
Reviewing my specific purpose
I visual their faces. I wonder how they look.
That’s the way I like to start.
Even though I am the writer, at the heart
Are the readers. They have a main part in my start.
Will the topic interest them?
How will I even know?
What must I tell them?
What would be better to show?
What about the choice of grammar?
Would jargon help, harm, or make readers stammer?
Would Standard English add value or rob?
Would vernacular or slang do a better job?
I ask lots of questions, striving to answer as I write.
I like to get it written, then revise to get it right.
I love your end!!!!! Yes, to asking a lot of questions, and hoping to get things “right” and “I like to get it written, then revise to get it right” is just genius and perfect 🙂 This is a writer’s motto! Love it.
I love how you describe beginning with the end “result” in mind. I just participated in a Zoom with author John Grisham through Magic City Books in Tulsa. Can you imagine, he outlines his entire novel before he begins?
Great questions…you want to meet your readers needs. So thoughtful. The choice of grammar, jargon, vernacular, slang…that’s a seriously good question. I hope to hold your book one day!
WEEEELLLLL, Linda, you may be able to do just that…soon.
A colleague I met at NCTE and I are sending our co-written manuscript off to Rowman and Littlefield Education Publishing House at noon tomorrow! We’re calling the book PLANNING WITH PURPOSE: A Handbook for New College Instructors.
The handbook has been inspired by the challenging year my daughter has had a first-year graduate teaching assistant. She called home nearly every day the first semester, asking for advice.
But, just twice a week now that she is in her second semester. 🙂
Eventually, my husband asked, “Why don’t you just write a book?” So, my friend and I have!” Several in my daughter’s cohort have contributed their stories, which have helped to keep us on target. That’s why I wrote about audience and purpose in this poem today. 🙂
Being a part of this writing community has kept the fire lit. Reading members’ stories during this COVID 19 sheltering at home time, I’ve seen how important it is for educators to adapt to whatever…quickly. We hope our book helps others joining the profession at the college level.
Thanks for being here for all of us!
how inspired! the audience never occurs to me – interesting to think of our motivations
This prompt challenges me because my writing routines vary based on my writing purpose. I have a dedicated home office w/ a desktop computer for working on big projects, a small desk in our spare room where I journal and store notebooking supplies, a laptop I use when writing blog posts, and my phone. I also carry a small journal when I travel.
Jessica and Kole, your poem begins as my writing begins each morning, and ends with the promises writing offers us. That’s a hope I love and embrace.
“Timed Writing”
1964
Big Chief tablet covers a flat surface
Pulpy blue threads vein and
Squiggle against a woody page
Chubby fingers grasp a fat pencil
Obeying my brain in tandem
They circle north, loop south,
Turn east before pushing north,
A quick west to east retracing
First grade cartographer maps G.
2020
Head cradles against arm skin.
Legs intertwine, prone, white on white
Nail-bitten finger, wrinkled, worn
Slides up the screen, releasing ideas
Pulpy pointer digit taps pixelated structures
iPhone petroglyphs, etched on a tiny screen
Alphabet words form beneath a glass surface
Wordsworthian clouds float, hover, leaving
Sculpted, chiseled poems hidden in tech vaults.
—Glenda Funk
My, how things have changed, huh? Thank you for describing the use of technology so vividly “pulpy pointer digit taps pixelated structures” is probably my favorite line or maybe “alphabet words form beneath a glass surface” all too true. I do love technology but I hate it too 🙂
Ooh, I love the first grade cartography image mapping your G in 1964. That is a perfect image for beginner Glenda, just learning the symbols that will create your beautiful poems and prose. The 2020 sounds like we are in a future sci-fi film. Such great phrases and images–“Wordsworthian clouds float, hover, leaving / Sculpted, chiseled poems hidden in tech vaults.” Wow.
What a creative take on this prompt, to compare your first grade self to now…geez, we’ve made it more complicated with all this technology, haven’t we? And yet, more simple, with all of us prone, working “iPone petroglyphs, etched on a tiny screen” – so fun to think about, Glenda. Makes me want to get my hands on one of those chubby triangular beginning writer pencils, and just doodle!
What a great comparison. I remember those old tablets. I loved writing time…the comparison to a map is brilliant. The vocabulary in 2020 is great…white on white, slides up the screen, petroglyphs, hover….all old words but new with tech. But, I have to say, Wordsworthian wins the day for best word!
I love the juxtaposition of the “woody page” and the “tech vaults” – even Wordsworth brings in another image of a different kind of writer – all engaged in the process. Great images!
Glenda, your time hop gives such sweet imagery of the 1964 cartographer mapping Gs and transports us to the modern-day technologies we’d have never even dreamed of back in the 60s. This reminds me so much of the cover of one of my favorite New Yorker November or December issues from a few years back. I’ll have to go digging to find it, but it was a scene of an apartment building – and two apartments. In one, there were Christmas cards and books and paper and pens and magazines and a radio and TV and all sorts of traditional literacy structures. In the other apartment, a person sat at a desk with a single computer to do all of those things. I enjoy the traditional ways and appreciate the new ways. I’m so glad you wrapped your arms around both and showed us that there is a place for all the ways we enjoy writing and being. Your poem is a joy, and I can see that little hand making loops – – so proud!
Wow, Gkenda-this is such a creative piece!!! I love this. Those little girl fingers around a “fat pencil.” and the visual sense of writing the G are sweet images and a remarkable contrast to 2020. The tech image against the nail-bitten human finger is sooo effective! Your word choices are superb: iPhone petroglyphs (super) and “words form beneath glass” (Strategic!) and Wordsworthian clouds” (love that!) and “leaving chiseled poem” (brilliant!). This poem really rocks! Thank you! Susie
Before I can write, I must know that no
one is waiting for me, that I didn’t forget
a meeting, student needs, garbage day,
recycling.
Before I write, I must eat and, yes, pee,
blow my nose, fill my water glass with
16 ounces that I will forget to
drink because once I
begin,
I cannot stop, too afraid to lose
what’s there, the thread, the word,
the flow, and if I do
stop,
Thesaurus is my wordsmith, leading
me to rhythmic utterances, consonance,
colors, textures, layers of meaning
I need to surprise, delight, move
see
something new, that wasn’t there
before.
Also, while this may sound “nice,” it is very messy. I recorded myself writing last June to show how much time I spend thinking (not exciting) and also shifting in my body and mind (not pretty). You can take a look at the video if you are interested, but it may be a great exercise for teacher and students to record the actually writing process: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWf5QLNZyGk&t=
Sarah,
I love the normalcy that parallels your writing routine: eat, sleep, pee, and I think about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and all students need to make writing happen. Once in the writing flow, “I cannot stop.” I know that feeling. In this challenge each month that begins w/ my first viewing of the prompt. Yesterday was a doozy. Thank you.
—Glenda
Sometimes my thoughts overwhelm me and even though I may not stop, I sometimes “lose what’s there”. That resonated with me. I have a lot to work on in my journey of writing. I really like the feeling of your ending “something new, that wasn’t there before” – very positive.
Sarah,
I love how you clear your mind of any distractions in that first stanza. This poem really gives an insight of your life; taking care of all responsibilities and needs. I have a feeling your students are very appreciative of this. 🙂
Thank you for your share,
Jess
The amount of thinking time is immense! I cannot imagine the time it takes to actually write and see a novel published. My hat is off to those of you that do that! I understand that needing space/time where no one …not even your own bladder needs you!
Sarah, I love how you begin with the things that might distract you from your writing process. The imagery is so powerful here…”rhythmic utterances, consonance, ….layers of meaning” are all so vivid. Your end is sheer perfection….that discovery of “something new, that wasn’t there/before” just says it all! Brilliant!
Sarah, I’m so glad someone wrote that they pee first. I was going to go there, but I didn’t – – and so glad you did, because it keeps the process of writing so real and I notice that it also “empties” or frees the space you need – – much like meeting needs and tending to chores or making sure that things are done before you get started with writing. The 16 oz. water reminds me of the ideas that are refilled as other ideas flow out. Nice symbols of the inflow/outpouring of poetry.
I love your readiness, so deliberate, so engaged, the thread, I love that way of describing your thought, the list separated by commas reminds me of my cat when he dances, steps from spot to spot, there’s a cadence to those words, thanks for sharing your process
Yes, Sarah! I remember your video was so helpful and so real. Impressively brave. I think I’d lose my marbles if a were to draft on camera. Your poem charts the realities of all the precursors to the word ever hitting the page. I particularly liked the concept of flow that might be broken were you interrupted during flow. You made it very real how fragile the process can be against interruptions. I sure do feel that in my experiences. And teaching is a life of constantly shifting schedules. Sure makes writing hard. I totally LOVE that you point to the layers of meaning! A central must for my sense of poetry as opposed to verse. I sure enjoyed your posting today. Thank you, Susie
Jessica and Kole, This process is something I attempt every day. Thanks for helping me think about how the process itself can be a poem.
The day’s date tops a crisp clean page.
A poem, a prompt, a quote muses me,
so I sip coffee and think on it
with a pen. Today’s color is green.
Where does this poem want to go?
Keep the pen moving.
Magic can happen here.
Words can smooth out the wrinkles,
soothe me into believing I’m a writer.
the words green, smooth and soothe give me a sense of peace. This is a peaceful poem.
Margaret,
There is something so fresh and optimistic about that first line — we never know what will come of that crisp page, do we? And then the colors that you use to write is so great — I used to have a cup of flair pens at my desk, but those have gone away with this latest move, and I haven’t missed them…until now.
And, oh, indeed, there is always the need for magic! And, yes, Margaret, you ARE a writer!
Sarah
Margaret,
I ask myself the same question, careful not to force the poem yo do my will. That learning to listen to the inspirations is hard. Reading those last lines, “Words can smooth out the wrinkles,
/ soothe me into believing I’m a writer.” remind me how we let imposter syndrome creep into our minds as well as the cathartic benefit of writing. Lovely images. Thank you.
—Glenda
Beautiful process! I liked seeing that you attempt it every day. It still is a choice, and discipline, it seems, even for the pros. “Magic can happen here” and “Words can smooth out the wrinkles” I want to believe!
Margaret,
I love the process you take your readers through. The line, “The day’s date tops a crisp clean page” is such a great start for a poem about a poem.
Thank you for your share,
Jess
Margaret, I love the way you let the pen lead – – and you follow – – and I especially love that you use a different color pen sometimes. I think you helped us find the key – – the key is to keep our pens moving!
Jessica and Kole, this was a great prompt to get us thinking about all those habits of writing – – and it makes me think I need to do some transitioning and write in different places from time to time. I have a reading and writing room that I can shut off from the world, but maybe the world is where I need to do more writing. The last line of your poem is beautiful the way that it is left up to the reader to envision the grand. Thank you for growing us as writers today.
coffee first, then
computer: power up
check prompt and grab
Cross fountain and Moleskine, then seek
comfy chair in reading room to
craft the scraps and fragments and swatches
coming together on the left to
compose on the right as thoughts, swirling,
cook and simmer with alliterative Csonings
capturing a word
collision before deciding I need a second
chance and a
coffee refill
I love that you use a moleskine journal. I am sometimes too revved up to journal…want to get right to typing. Usually, that does NOT work and I need to go back to the journal. I try to discipline myself to journal first, always. And, yes. Coffee refill.
Kim,
I so appreciate this invitation to sit alongside you as you begin your day, your sense of place where you craft these amazing verses. Clever word “Csonings” — this is staying with me now — definitely simmering. Toward the end, the word “collision” is unexpected but makes so much sense when we notice a dissonance that calls us to revise.
Love this,
Sarah
Kim,
I’m mesmerized by your use of “c” as the first word in each line. I “Cee” you, my friend. Love the “Csonings,” too. That one tricked me at first. You have a magical brain. Love this poem. Hell, I love all your poems. Thank you.
—Glenda
Kim, I love all the “c”s!
So beautiful and I love the list-like poetry because although it is like a list, the content is quite swirly and fun.
Oh, my goodness, I had to read all the way to “cook and simmer with alliterative Csonings” before I noticed all the Cs! It was so natural and normal. Beautifully done. You seem to always give yourself a special extra challenge with the prompts. “capturing a word” is what we long to do.
Kim,
I love how this all goes together like a writing checklist. Everything’s perfect and ready to write.
Thank you for this share,
Jess
Kim – The images of you with your moleskin and Cross fountain pen in a big ol’ chair with a big ol’ cup of coffee is downright soothing. For some reason I think of you as Mary Oliver “crafting the scraps and fragments and swatches.” Quite a lovely notion. I’m my dream world Mary is still somewhere writing poems and you and she are the same person. I know that’s weird, but it is where I’ve placed you in my mind from having read your poems for a year now. I’m glad you’re here. Susie
Jessica and Kole, what a beautiful prompt. I’ve always loved the idea of thinking about one’s thinking. This gets to that. Thank you for the prompt and, your work to become teachers. We need you!
Sky Writing
In the dark hours
before sun
Sky lies abed
considering day
stretching ahead.
In light hours
there is much
for bird and beast
and human to do.
Sky rises fora drink of rain
finding wind to pen
poetry
for the literate.
More clouds than sun?
Sunny with clouds
Maybe rain is due
Or, a giant bowl
of cobalt blue.
Musky steely snow sky
requires more ink–
wetting of powder circles
in a paint box.
Green and yellow reserved
for tornados and hurricanes.
But, storms such as these
are rare to Sky’s muse.
This 29th day of April
is fit for walking hand
in hand with Sun
letting jays and robins
punctuate this poem.
There is space between
the stanzas to breathe
in
out
in
out
Rising to the occasion
of today..
Oh my, Linda, you went in such a mesmerizing and imaginative direction with this prompt. “wetting of powdered circles in a paint box” and “walking hand in hand with Sun” are my favorite lines. I want to write with the sky!
What a lovely title, Linda. Sky Writing. Yes, I feel like I am writing into air a lot of the time — that the word are floating until ready to land — The final stanza is so perfect in it capturing of “space” and “breath” with this use of line breaks and single syllables on each one moving us toward the rising.
Sarah
Linda,
This is lovely, earthy, ethereal. The first stanza really drew me into the poem. I’ve read the poem several times, all taking me deeper into earth’s wonders and it’s invitation to arise “fora drink of rain
finding wind to pen
poetry”
Thank you for giving us such a nurturing poem.
—Glenda
I love the textual visual you have created in your last stanza – “space between the stanzas to breathe” – helps me breathe and think. Thanks!
Linda, this is glorious and heavenly today. I love the jays and robins punctuating your poem, and the space between the stanzas to breathe in and out, in and out. It’s a dreamy lovely poem.
Linda,
You have created such a wonderful piece with so much imagery.
Thank you for this share,
Jess
Linda, this is just beautiful. I love everything about it. The inviting entry, the use of Sky as the character, the spacing of breath in and out, line by line. I would have to list the entire poem to say what I like best. Thank you for this loveliness today!
Wow! I love the way the writing is imagined in natural images and the writing is influenced by the environment. Such a powerful metaphor!
Linda, this feeling of space as words come together and the noticing that happens beforehand, and the sensory sounds and images of nature – – what a perfect prelude to a poem. Sky writing. The idea space. This is a perfect way to begin the day (and it’s what I love about not having to rush out the door these days). Thank you for the journey alongside you.