4×4 Poem with Denise Krebs
Welcome to Day 5 of Verselove. We are so happy you are here, however you choose to be present. If you know what to do, carry on; if you are not sure, begin by reading the inspiration and mentor poem, then scroll to the comment section to post your poem. Please respond to at least three other poets in celebration of words, phrases, ideas, and craft that speak to you. All educators – authors, librarians, teachers, teacher educators, coaches, consultants, preservice, retired–are welcome. It’s free. No commitment is needed. Please invite a teacher-friend to join you one or more days because poetry heals. Click here for more information on the Verselove. Click here for the PD tracker if you’d like PD credits.
Denise Krebs has recently moved from the desert island of Bahrain to the Mojave Desert in California. She is trying to settle in, restore an old cabin, and figure out what education adventures will be in her future. She enjoys reading, writing, riding her fat tire bike on the sandy roads around her home, and watching the sunrise from her living room window while praying for her grandbaby who is due in June.
Inspiration
“I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.” –Angela Davis
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” –Mary Oliver
“Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure.” –Oprah Winfrey
Perhaps today you will choose to write about something you cannot accept. Or maybe about the joy of this one wild and precious life. How are you feeling? Joyful, sorrowful, pessimistic, optimistic, alienated, powerful, angry, scared, proud, brave, creative, anxious. What else? You might write about a feeling you have had recently.
Process
Let’s try a 4 x 4 poem today. Sometimes I enjoy the challenge of having constraints when I write a poem. In this poem, there are four “rules.”
- 4 syllables in each line
- 4 lines in each stanza
- 4 stanzas
- Refrain repeated four times in lines 1, 2, 3, 4 of stanzas 1, 2, 3, 4.
Bonus: Try writing a title in four syllables
Other than those four rules, anything goes. There are no rhyming or rhythm restrictions, and you can write on any topic.
The 4 x 4 poem is a slight variation of the quatern. It’s also similar to the Tricube Poem that Linda Mitchell led us in writing last November. Alternatively, you might try writing a quatern or tricube.
Denise’s Poem
Day star dawning
Sunshine beaming
Precious brilliance
Of toasty warmth
Rise in the east
Day star dawning
Warming the earth
With joy and hope
Rising round womb
Growing bundle
Day star dawning
The world awaits
Grandson coming
Family grows
Into sunshine
Day star dawning
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. 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.
Respond to 3
Respond to 3 teachers today in the spirit of reciprocity. Writing educator Peter Elbow said, “To improve your writing you don’t need advice about what changes to make; you don’t need theories of what is good and bad writing. You need movies of people’s minds while they read your words” (Writing Without Teachers, 1973, p. 77). Please offer a mirror to our writers by sharing what you noticed, what moved you, and what you learned. Responding to one another is a way of saying “I see you” and “thank you for writing” and “I carry your words.” Here are a few sentence stems that may be helpful for you and your students.
First Day Jitters
Nerves in full gear
Future unknown
Oh what to do
Lunch is all packed
Meet new colleagues
Nerves in full gear
What do you say
Find your new desk
You set up shop
Take a deep breathe
Nerves in full gear
Let’s get started
The day is done
Time to go home
New day awaits
Nerves in full gear
A Warm Spring Day
Weather turns warm
Sunshine outside
Birds are chirping
What a good day
Zero clouds here
People walking
Tree’s blossoming
What a good day
Dogs are strolling
Stored away coats
For shirts and shorts
What a good day
Grass becomes green
Bee’s are buzzing
Kites are flying
What a good day
Macy, your poem makes me feel like I am sitting in the warm spring air on a beautiful day. Great choice of words with such meaning.
Poetic Celebration
Huzzah!! Hurrah!!
Showing up here
to write poems.
Many days missed.
Thinking about
terms and forms and
phrases that will
be meaningful.
Compose, jot, write!
Revise, edit!
Change and arrange
to read just right.
I enjoy the
challenge to scribe
stanzas; lines of
poetic form.
Donnetta,
I loved how you started the poem out like that! I would never have thought of that!
I know this is a day late and many won’t see it.. but thank you for the prompt and for helping me process a difficult weekend.
For puppy love
Drive far see vet
Follow advice
Healing begins
Give medicine
For puppy love
Hoping it helps
Sad puppy eyes
What else to do
Worse not better
For puppy love
Call vet again
Emergency
Vet hospital
Is life saving
For puppy love
DeAnna,
Puppy love is always worth it. ? I’m so glad she’s on the mend–it’s the perfect refrain.
Ah, DeAnna — thank you for sharing this piece. poetry can help process so many emotions, and I felt my emotions rollercoaster in just this poem. I can’t imagine what it’s like being on your end. Sending love your way <3
DeAnna,
I love puppies so I really enjoyed reading your poem! Perfectly described puppy love!
DeAnna, your poem takes us through a deep, meaningful story and your words are so beautiful together.
The Chance to Start
For this new day
A chance to start
Fresh hope begins
Caring no more
The sun rises
For this new day
Beginning new
A change for you
For loss no more
We start anew
For this new day
You can be you
Begin for you
Take all you have
And give it all
For this new day
Ella, such beautiful self-actualizing choices made in your poem. I love some of the phrases: “we start anew”, “begin for you”, “take all you have / and give it all” (that last one is a beautiful oxymoron).
Ella, I absolutely loved reading through this poem. You chose such calm, perfect words and I felt a sense of independency and hope when reading this.
I love the “solid” feel of this form, which is good for me this week. So cool to learn you are stateside, Denise! Welcome back and best to you on your new journey! (I tried posting yesterday but ran into some trouble. Sarah helped, so I’m trying this again today.)
Michigan Spring
water seeps in
spring thaw is here
cats with wet paws
‘puddlz be fun’
basement flooding
water seeps in
we hop across
each tiny lake
all things are shelved
safely away
water seeps in
thank god for bins
nature rising
we know our place
waiting wading
water seeps in
Oh, Denise, what a subject for your 4×4 poem. Wow. There are so many treasures in these lines–“we hop across / each tiny lake”, “we know our place” and the brilliant “waiting wading.” All the best to you as the cats and you wait for the water to recede.
You captured Michigan Springs beautifully! My favorite line of yours is “nature rising we know our place waiting wading water seeps in”.
Kevin’s (not) 4×4 poem was so fun I used it for inspiration, a riff, a remix.
give it a try
he sighed, a chore
four by four by
four, four, four, four
shaking up some jive
bouncing a new mix
taking us to five
sliding into six
ranting about rabbits
and breaking through the door
next he’ll bring the jabots
twinning not the mentor
also breaking
rules of four (4)
mischief-making
do evermore
Oh, Charlene, I do hope Kevin comes back and reads this one. It has such a fun rhythm and rhyme to it. This is so much fun to read aloud. Love “taking us to five / sliding into six” and that first stanza is pure gold.
Your use of rhyming is amazing! Well Done!
Thank you, Denise, for this challenge. I also like constraints on writing poetry. It really makes me think as I try to fit the ideas of my poem into these guidelines. Here’s my attempt at a 4 X 4 poem.
Every Single Day
Every single day.
Something waiting
to be noticed
before it’s lost.
I see his smile
every single day.
His acrostic
poem held tight
in his small hands,
close to his heart.
Every single day
he writes anew.
‘It’s yours to keep,”
I say smiling.
So very pleased.
Every single day.
“Every single day” — what a great reminder. When my kids were small, so often I got caught up in the daily drudgery and forgot to treasure “every single day.”
Elisa, what a beautiful moment between child and teacher. I love the writerly conversation and life they share. So beautiful, this nurturing of a writer.
I also love the constraints in writing some pieces of poetry. Your poem is very well constructed, great work!
Elisa,
This was very well written and hopeful. This was a great message inside this poem
Thank you for sharing Denise. I am taking a line from Oprah…breathe deep. This made me reflect on the responsibilities I have as a single mom taking care of her 12 year old daughter who has Rett Syndrome.
Trying for Bijou
Seeking, searching
Praying, planning
Reflecting, hoping
Praying for a change
Frustrating, anxious
Breathing deeply
Awaiting response
yes yes good news
Advocacy worked
Some hearts moved
Help is coming
Accepting the offer
Asking for strength
To carry on
Life is precious
Enjoy each day
Wow, Dee, you have some responsibilities, that’s for sure. I’m glad you took time to write this today. I’m glad help is on the way for you and your daughter. “Life is precious.” Amen.
Dee, your poem tugged at my heart, thinking of the challenges you face every day. Thank you for sharing a glimpse into the burden you carry.
Denise, thank you for your poem today. Your poem has such and beautiful imagery. It made me feel nervous about this prompt all day because I couldn’t think of any good 4-syllable refrains like you had. After going on a bike ride and having an interaction with someone along the trail, I came up with this poem (plus the Oprah Winfrey quote inspired me too!)
Canal Wisdom
little ducklings
in the canal
following Mom
swimming along
inattentive
little ducklings
bumping into
one another
I count aloud:
there are seven
little ducklings–
eight yesterday
“That’s how it goes”
says the old man
gazing at the
little ducklings
Rachelle, how did you manage to give me all the feels in so few syllables? I was sitting here smiling until eight yesterday! Oh no!
Rachelle,
Like Mo, I was lulled into thinking this was a happy little thing. Sigh–an excellent sneak attack poem. Where I walk at some wetlands, I no longer count ducklings or goslings, there are far too many hawks and coyotes around and it just hurts my heart despite what the old man said. Great job on this!
Rachelle, I am with Mo and Cara on this, my feels have been hit hard. Nicely done.
Rachelle, wow, I love the canal wisdom of this poem. So simple, yet profound and teaches a lesson that we don’t like to learn about “little ducklings.” Your simple telling of this interaction is spot-on perfection.
These Are the Days
by Mo Daley 4/5/22
Days like today
Under my skin
Blood pressure up
What’s my mantra?
Seriously—
Days like today
Ugh! Tech failure
Insane students
Angry parents
Admin not here
Days like today
End of my rope
What can I do?
Breathe in, breathe out
Try to forget
Days like today
I love it! So much action and frustration packed in this little piece. Great “days like today” refrain.
Mo,
I’m sorry you had o e of those days. Your poem strikes a chord. I remember having those days. I think it’s the tech problems that and angry parents that really are the worst. I hope tomorrow is better.
Mo, this is the poem for my day last Friday. Thank you for sharing this frustrating to help me feel less alone on “days like today”. Sending peace to you and hopes tomorrow is better!
Mo,
We all have days like that ( yesterday for me). You captured that frustration and desire for memory loss perfectly. Nice job!
Hi Mo,
I can certainly relate to your poem As educators/school leaders we all have days like those that are overwhelming. So I love the advise of breathing deep.
Mo, sorry for your rough day. Hopefully you got some bit of relief from writing about it. “Try to forget / days like today.” It does sound like you got the list of things to put you at the end of your rope! Hope tomorrow is a ton better.
Hi Denise. Thanks for a new format to try out. Hopefully I managed to follow the rules!
San Jacinto
On San Jacinto
desert dry surrounds
mountains touch the sky
beckoning welcome
Alpine gondola
on San Jacinto
lifts to altitude
snowy spring hiking
Slushy slidy snow
melting in cool pools
on San Jacinto
desert far below
Descent to Palm Springs
desert wonderland
after day’s hiking
on San Jacinto
This poem feels like a painting to me – I can just see it all. And I think it’s time for me to head out for some snowy spring hiking 🙂
Kim, your poem comes tome as I’m trying to choose a vacation. Your pictures are beautiful. Now I have another place to add to my list of possibilities.
Kim,
The views you e captured here are sublime. We took that gondola ride in December after an impromptu trip to Palm Springs. We didn’t have time to hike much, so I’m hoping to return and experience your poem in real life. i
Wonderful imagery, Kim. After reading your poem, I did a quick Google image search. It’s exactly how you describe. I love alliteration, so “slushy slidy snow” especially stood out to me!
Kim, wow, I love this poem, and I love the experience, which I have been privileged to do. I love the sound of these lines:
“desert dry surrounds
mountains touch the sky”
For some reason, the song When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano popped into my head reading this! An area I am sure you know! Beautiful word pictures here.
Hello, Denise! And thank you for this inviting prompt. I will use it with my students! Today is my wedding anniversary, so I wrote about that.
Vows: April 5
I do. I do.
We said the words
Thirty-eight years
ago today.
Tonight we say
I do, I do
in silent ways
with eyes and touch
Who knew, who knew
the heft of vows?
I do, I do
a heavy press
that stills our hearts
and comforts us
as life unfolds:
I do, I do.
Allison,
Happy Anniversary! The second stanza is so full of love and truth, the kind we find in marriages that last and grow in love through the years. I do, I do love this poem.
The heft of vows, indeed, Thank you for this reflection on love had and love to come! I hope you share this with your spouse and that the memories continue to multiply and age finely! Cheers, to 38 today, 39 tomorrow, and so on!
Happy anniversary, Allison! I think it’s really clever how you used “I do, I do” as your refrain on this day. I feel the weight and solace of the vows with lines like “a heavy press / that stills our hearts”. Thank you for this poem today! 🙂
Allison, I am really moved by your poem. I particularly like “Who knew, who knew/the heft of vows?” Ain’t it the truth. Your final stanza is moving, tender, and full of love. Weathering the bad sure helps one enjoy the good moments even more. Happy anniversary! We celebrated our 38th in November.
Hi Allison,
Happy Wedding Anniversary to you and your husband. Your poem reminds me of how good being in love can be. Continue to love and cherish the time you have with each other, Blessings
Happy anniversary, dear Allison! I love the refrain of “I do, I do” as well as the rhyming echo. And those powerful lines: “Who knew, who knew / the heft of vows?” Yes, you have captured the heft of those marriage vows with just those few syllables.
This is a poem for my verse novel about the beginnings of a friendship.
Four Square Friendship
Keeley was queen,
I the peasant.
Quickly dethroned
By my swift strike.
Hands over mouths,
Keeley was queen
Always winning,
Until today.
From that day on,
Inseparable,
Keeley was queen
Forever there.
Neighbors. Best friends.
Secrets. Laughing.
In my kingdom
Keeley was queen.
I love this so much. Nothing feels forced! It just came together perfectly. Your refrain works so well & gains more meaning in each new stanza. I hope this does end up in the novel!
I really enjoyed it! And yes-it will go in!
Ooh! Way to create drama with this poem! When will get to see the final product?
My goal is for the complete draft to be ready for critiques by the end of this month!
Alexis, you have invited your reader to learn more about Keeley and the peasant. I have so many questions and want to get to know them more. We need the whole verse novel, please! All the best as you continue to work on it.
Such kind words! Thank you!!!
Alexis,
Not sure if you will see this post since I’m responding late. Just wanted to tell you I love novels in verse and write novels in verse as well. I just published my first YA verse/prose novel in February. If you are ever looking for someone to exchange manuscripts with let me know. My current critique partners are amazing but don’t write verse novels. Good luck on your book!
I would love to connect Tammi! That is so cool that you have published a YA verse/prose novel! I am searching for it now.
I love this prompt! I’m saving it to consider some more this evening as I finish tutoring, but I had another poem itching to get out today. I sent this to my spouse as I finished since we have been working opposite shifts for a few years now, and I’m missing his light today. Our anniversary was yesterday but we only got 20 minutes together. I’ve been nesting this thought for him. 4X4 is next!
Hey there lover,
Where’s the other side
Of yesterday?
At midnight,
My body knows
The heat of yours
Resting next to mine.
That clock strikes time,
tick-tick, and I hear
The steady strum
Of your rhythm
In time with mine.
We are in sync,
Tempos moving
Through space
And ships passing
In the dark hour,
But I can barely recognize
The color of your eyes,
Those lines across your brow,
Or that secret little smile.
And there must be
Something standin’
Between the moment’s passed
Between you and I.
I’m looking down an alleyway
That tunnels through our
Time here and there.
The compass spins towards anywhere,
And I’m not seeing much,
But babe,
I haven’t seen you
In a while.
That’s okay, though,
Don’t sweat it
Because your picture
Is painted and tiled
Across by skull
In threadbare miles.
You’ll be tomorrow
Exactly where you were
Yesterday.
OMG! You posted your poem ONE MINUTE before I posted mine, and we wrote about our wedding anniversaries (yours yesterday, mine today). I love the heat of your poem! Longing, I believe, is one of life’s most intense emotions. You gave it to us here. Cheers, friend! Here’s to 38 years to come!
I love this! We were feeling all sorts of something today, and I’m glad that could be shared! To years that feel like centuries together. Cheers, right back at you! I’m on my way up to read and experience your words now!
Wow! I love the emotion in your last 2 stanzas – I can feel the commitment you two have for each other. Isn’t it the worst the life is so busy?? Here’s hoping your opposite schedules won’t last for too much longer! (But in the meantime – it’s beautiful what you can capture & keep alive in the little moments!)
Dani,
Happy anniversary!
So much love and longing expressed in this poem. Thank you for sharing it with us.
These lines:
So telling of your love.
Kasey,
I love the allusion to Jimmy and the re-ordering of the pattern. Such a fun poem to read. I think I could hear some slurring as well!
Kasey — What a fun poem. Now I want a margarita! And yes, I am self-conscious about syllables too. Even have to google the syllables in words.
Denise — This was fun but I have to say I was on the struggle bus today.
Four syllables?
Did I slur words?
Did I count right?
Turn on the light.
Prefix or stem?
Four syllables
Lexicon love
Sun from above
Do they need rhyme?
How to find time?
Four syllables?
Not visible!
A buried poem
Struggle the words
Must have misheard
Four syllables?
I’m laughing just because I understand the struggle! I read this prompt this morning before heading to the school for the day and just couldn’t wrap my head around the structure! I jotted down a few lines, but you’ve captured the frustration well! Your couplets are so well done, and I applaud you for that extra treasured step because your rhythm is on point!
Tammi, I too found myself wondering about rhyme as I wrote tonight. I like all of your “word” words (syllables, stem, prefix, rhyme, lexicon…) Your poem invited me into a rich moment of considering WORDS! Bravo!
Tammi,
I love the way you played with the words and took a spin in a creative way. This made me realize that poetry can be fun.
Tammi, love, love the changing of “four syllables” as it goes through the poem. I like how you turn on the light and get started in that first stanza. Nice rhymes too. “Do they need rhyme? / How to find time?” is another snappy place in your 4×4.
Present Blessings
it is enough
to feel the sun
soaking my jeans
warming my skin
a pumping heart
it is enough:
the feeling of
being alive
hearing, smelling
seeing color
it is enough
to flood my soul
your hand in mine
fingers entwined,
affirmation—
it is enough
I read this, and had a treasured deep breath in, and then out. Thank you for the reflective moment captured in verse. This might just need to hang on my mirror as my affirmation for the day. Would that be okay with you?
Of course! 🙂
Oh wow. I loved this poem. Each stanza pushes the refrain (it is enough) forward with intensity. The fingers entwined in stanza four–after your build through the sensory pull of the first three–are on fire. Wow.
Oh, so pretty. I love the language and the love and acceptance. “It is enough” is perfect.
Oh, Kasey, I love the italics journey to Margaritaville! Fun and funny, especially that last word, which says so much! Glad you made it, and who’s counting (syllables or margaritas!)
What a challenge this was! I even rhymed (I’m NOT a rhymer). Going out of my comfort zone felt good!
LEAVING EARLY
Leaving early
Take time for me
A walk perhaps
Or cup of tea…
It’s taken years
Leaving early
How to do it
Brain is swirling…
Do work at home
Or watch TV
Leaving early
Is rare for me…
It’s been three days
I’m squirrely
I’ll keep trying
Leaving early…
Awesome ?!! Love the rhythm!!! I can relate to “I’m squirrely!”
That extra “me time” for tea…..or just time to sit and breathe for a moment…..makes a huge difference. Just a simple pause is all it takes. I love this! Your rhyme, your message, your nod to tea. Makes me want to heat some water in the kettle right now.
This is fun! I love all the rhymes. My favorite is “Brain is swirling…” – it is challenging to transition from work day to home.
Heidi,
Youre speaking the language of every excellent teacher I’ve known. It’s so hard for teachers to practice “leaving early.” Teacher guilt sets in, but you deserve that cup of tea, that walk, and that Netflix and chill evening.
Heidi, brava! I love that you went out of your comfort zone and had success, feeling good about this sweet poem. Yes, it is perfect. Love the rhyme. The rhymes and the quick short lines just make it fun to read aloud. “It’s taken years” says a lot. I’m glad you are taking time for you and will keep trying to leave early.
Heidi — The rhythm of your poem is so relaxing. I felt like I was rocking on a swinging drinking tea. Great message!
Leaving early is usually easier said than done and your poem captures that expertly.
Thank you, Denise, for the inspiration and the new form. I needed some structure after a long day of state testing. I enjoyed this form.
Car Ride Home
Eyes drooping closed
mussed up head rests
gently bobbing
from potholed roads
Long day weary
eyes drooping closed
thinking ahead
to tomorrow
My mind never
stops, even when
eyes drooping closed
music lulls me
Wishing I could
“forget about
life for a while”
eyes drooping closed
Heather,
The repetition here really does mimic the drooping, a lulling to drift off (which is not what I need just before I teach tonight), but I love it. That excerpted lyric sits nicely in the final stanza as your wish. Indeed, I share this wish.
Thank you for the poem,
Sarah
Heather, I really enjoyed this! Thank you. (Because of your poem, I won’t be surprised if I unconsciously hum Piano Man during our state testing next week!)
So glad your eyes stayed open long enough to compose this 4 x 4! I remember that drained feeling – and I agree with Sarah, the repetition mimics the droopiness you are feeling. Those potholed roads – ugh! Not what you needed.
Heather, my eyes drooped a little while I read your poem. It seems an invitation after a busy day. I like the third stanza about the power of our busy mind “even when / eyes drooping closed / music lulls me”
Heather — I just love that first stanza “Eyes drooping closed/mussed up head rests/
gently bobbing/from potholed roads” and can totally visualize the bobbing heads.
Sploosh
Plip, plop, splish, splash
Shrug on raincoat
Batten hatches!
Drippity drop
Umbrella up
Plip, plop, splish, splash
Wind whipping rain
Face drizzled wet
Step, step, dodge, dodge
Puddles, oh no!
Plip, plop, splish, splash
I’m getting wet.
Rubber boots, yes!
Jump in puddles.
Wet all over.
Plip, plop, splish, splash
©Heidi Clark 2022
I love the sounds and alliteration. I feel like I am jumping through the rain with you.
Love the plip, plop, splish, splash refrain! I could feel the rain drops .
Heidi,
This is so fun! I am loving the rhyme and rain inviting us to “Jump in puddles” with every beat of the meter!
Sarah
That last stanza made me feel like a kid again splashing in puddles! I love the plip, plop, splish, splash refrain. It’s the simple things… Perfect poem as we’re expecting rain for the next 2-3 days!
You had fun with the rain! I adore the repetitious “plip, plop, spish, splash” – so playful.
Oh, I always love onomatopoeia. I can hear and see you splashing in puddles, gradually going from battened hatches to just jumping in. Fun!
Heidi — I felt like I was right there jumping through puddles with you! So fun! The alliteration works so well!
I love all the sound and movement in this piece–and I am more than jealous that you actually have rain to consider for your poem! Wishing for some plip plop splish splash!
What fun this is. Thank you, Denise!
Little black dog,
I hope I am
As spry as you
When I’m your age.
I’m never sure,
Little black dog,
If you are boss
Or if I am.
You love to eat,
And so do I,
Little black dog,
Too much, too much.
Ever faithful,
And ever true,
I do love you,
Little black dog.
Katrina,
The repetition here works to show just how big this “Little black dog” is in your household.
Sarah
Little black dog – oh, you have my heart here! I have one little black dog, one little white dog, and one little black/white/gray dog. My little black dog is my food bully, and I am his spirit human. I have no idea if he is boss, but I’m pretty sure he is, and he can jump down off the bed better than I can. I love my little black dog just like you love yours – I so am your kindred spirit when it comes to dog love, Katrina!
I love the wondering – “If you are boss/Or I am.” Your ‘little black dog’ sounds like a real cutie, a sweet companion.
I love this, Katrina. My favorite stanza;
“I’m never sure,
Little black dog,
If you are boss
Or if I am.”
Dogs are simply the best!
Ah, Katrina, what a sweet “little black dog.” You have provided just the special details for us to know that this is one loved pup.
Katrina — Love this stanza: “I’m never sure,/Little black dog,/If you are boss/Or if I am” because it is so true! It’s amazing how our pets can bend us to their wills.
Winter Will Dream
By Nancy White
Winter will dream
Of sunshine bright
Flowers in bloom
Pink, yellow, white
No chilly days
Clear sky above
Winter will dream
Good times to come
I will choose hope
Winter will dream
Picnics and hikes
Down by the sea
Clouds will appear
Sugar and cream
Sparkling, sprinkling,
Winter will dream
I love your imagery, Nancy. This is the perfect poem to read in the midst of winter – hope that spring is around the corner with its gifts waiting for us.
Oh, this repeating line is so classic and clean and timeless. Winter will dream……and we will waken, fully aware, to the life budding beyond us.
I see a picture book here – fun to think of winter desiring spring and summer. Your rhyming scheme works beautifully in this 4 x 4.
Nancy — love the imagery in your poem! Especially love this stanza: “Clouds will appear/
Sugar and cream/Sparkling, sprinkling,/Winter will dream”
I agree with Maureen this could be a picture book.
Yes, Nancy, I vote for a picture book too! Love winter dreaming of good times in the warmer months.
I love the “solid” feel of this form, which is good for me this week. So cool to learn you are stateside, Denise! Welcome back and best to you on your new journey! (I tried posting earlier, and it said something about waiting for approval, so apologies if this posts twice!)
Michigan Spring
water seeps in
spring thaw is here
cats with wet paws
‘puddlz be fun’
basement flooding
water seeps in
we hop across
each tiny lake
all things are shelved
safely away
water seeps in
thank god for bins
nature rising
we know our place
waiting wading
water seeps in
Two thank yous needed here. First to Denise, for throwing down some constraints. Constraints, at times, are totally my jam, and I was so wiped emotionally after today that I needed some.
The second thank you is for the person who was driving by, blasting the Marvelettes’ “Mr Postman”, with its “wait a minute” refrain, as I locked my bike outside the post office this afternoon (yes, really). I was buying boxes to send Easter goodies to my faraway boys. And my brain, which was composing another poem as I rode downtown went “wait a minute! That’s 4 syllables, isn’t it?” and I wrote a different poem on the way home.
Not Enough Time
Wait a minute!
I’m not ready!
I don’t know how
to do this yet!
Raising two boys
“Wait a minute!”
Let me help you
while you’ll let me
Empty nesting,
we work to not
wait a minute.
To be here, now.
Yet this, to do,
I don’t know how.
I’m not ready.
Wait. A minute…
Oh, I feel this so. I just entered the empty nesting phase. It is hard. I do not know how to do this, too. I am not ready!!!
We are actually loving the empty nesting. I didn’t make my transition into the end well enough….still to work on.
This is so heartfelt – – that need for time constraints and your repeating line to wait a minute – – I’m not ready – – is such a universal feeling of just needing to slow down and take a moment before proceeding. The empty nesting is a real struggle at times, and then…..freedom and the visits to see them!
We actually love empty nesting, and I didn’t quite manage to convey that part, and into that final stage.
Lisa — I’m right there with you. I only have one child out of my three left at home.
The repetition of “I’m not ready” really resonates. I’m not ready either.
Your title says it all about how fast the empty nest comes. “Wait a minute!” Tonight I had dinner with my two daughters, all grown up, and WAIT. A. MINUTE. where did that time go?
So writing at a different time today while thinking about dinner plans. Tried to put that thinking into 4 X 4. I decided on take-out, if you wanted to know.
What’s For Dinner?
What’s for dinner?
Daily question
that I ponder
unhappily.
Homemade?Take-out?
What’s for dinner?
Find recipe,
Check the pantry.
Stop at the store.
Veggies, meat, rolls-
What’s for dinner?
Balanced meal.
Delicious smells
waft through the air
all gather round-
What’s for dinner?
Bah-ha-ha! I have such a love/hate relationship with this daily question! First question here is: What’s in the freezer? Yet I do love to cook. Hilarious it was take-out in reality. The “all gather round” is the best line, how it shows all of this process and people coming together for the finality. Yes, yes, what IS for dinner?
Cathy, you have written a poem that so many people can relate to! Your word choices of ‘ponder’ and ‘waft’ are effective. Starting the poem with a question is a great hook.
I always hated figuring out this question. I always felt I was in it alone. Now, though, dinner is very different with my two kids in college. I prep on Sunday so the question does not come up and remind me how alone I really am now.
Cathy, yes, we can relate. Take-out sounds good! I love the ending too. As Denise says it shows the importance of even bothering with the food–togetherness!
Denise, this is such a fun challenge today. I love seeing the growing bundle in the rising womb, which is reflected in the day star dawning. What a beautiful way to begin your morning (and mine!). My brain wouldn’t get into go mode at 5am (I’m not sure it’s there now) but I couldn’t let this prompt pass by.
I Prefer Words
One, two, three, four
five makes one more
Six, seven, eight –
Enough of that!
Calculations
(one, two, three, four)
multiplying
internally
Syllabical
Quaternary
(one, two, three, four)
Entertainment
Dictionaries
definitely
incorporate
one, two, three, four…
Nicely played, Jennifer. WTHeck is “quaternary”?! Learned a new word today! I’m also impressed with how many four-syllable single words you pulled for this. Nicely juxtaposed with the counting, which takes all four words. Fun!
Jennifer, I love your confession about your brain not going into full writing mode at 5 a.m. On breaks, I too am like that as well. I WANT to write, but I need a moment to process things so they make sense. Your dictionary line and calculating (I count on my fingers still) makes me feel better so I’m not alone.
Love all those four-syllable words, Jennifer. Impressive!
We are preparing for the [English] state test here in Texas, aka the STAAR. I started brainstorming during the day, and then shared my poem crafting with my colleague. She was in on it, so Ms. Turner and I collaborated on this poem to wish our students good luck! We’re going to share with each of our classes tomorrow haha 🙂
Title: Good Luck on Test
Use strategies
Sleep well tonight
You’re a super
STA[A]R, if you will
You have the skills
Use strategies
Decker prepped you
Rep me well, kid
Try not to stress
but never guess
Use strategies
to pass this test
Hey, do your best
You will be fine
Just take your time
Use strategies
We’re preparing for MCAS here in Massachusetts so I definitely empathized with your thoughts in this poem. Maybe I’ll even share it with my kiddos tomorrow. Good Luck is right!!!!
What a neat poem to your students about using their strategies and taking their time, and you even included the name of the test in the poem. Oh, those dreaded days of testing……why??? Why must we test???
Britt, this is clever. My favorite part is the third verse. It’s such excellent advice.
Britt and Ms. Turner, congrats on writing this sweet encouragement to your students. I love the refrain “use strategies” That is good advice. I like “rep me well, kid” too.
This was fun! I like the freedom of trying to work within the form. Thanks, Denise, for this cool prompt. I’m definitely taking this one to the classroom. This one made me think of a funny moment that I had when hip hop dad met transgender daughter at the generational intersection of social media.
Instagram Slam
“Dope pic, kiddo!”
Instagram’s hard;
just the right words,
or emojis–
What do I say?
“Dope pic, kiddo!”
seemed just right–
She’s dragging me.
It’s a thirst trap
Dad! And you say
dope pic kiddo???
L M A O!!!!
Teenage daughter
in transition–
Cherish her smile…
Dope pic, kiddo.
Dave:
This is amazing. And with kiddos in my world who I purposely do not follow on the ‘gram, I get it! What precisely is the right word this week. Thanks so much for sharing this. Dope pic, kiddo.
Totally dope poem, Dave! I don’t know the cool lingo these days, but I sure appreciate the acceptance and love expressed here. What the world needs now. And so many youth who give me hope with their patience and fortitude, forging new worlds ahead of them. Love this. Thank you!
Dave,
That last verse is pure gold. But this poem also reminds me I’m not good at IG. I’m not good at posting dope pics, but I try.
Oh, my, you told a sweet story in such a few words. (I had to look up thirst trap.) Love, the description you wrote including the “generational intersection of social media.” Funny. Nice refrain for a hip hop dad.
I’m loving these poems, everyone. I will be in and out the rest of the day and into the night to read and comment. I just got off the plane in Seattle to go to a baby shower for that sweet grand baby!
Denise, enjoy your time at the shower being with those who celebrate your joy! I’m so happy for you.
Thank you for the oddly challenging prompt. Who knew fitting things into four syllables would be so hard? 😉
Beautiful day
Sunshine with clouds
Flowers blooming
Another chance
Warmth builds on this
Beautiful day
Spring renews life
And clears the slate
Once more we try
To see the fresh
Beautiful day
Through winter eyes
Hazy with fog
From long dark months
Thank you for this
Beautiful day
I connected so with your poem. I am sitting here soaking up the sun reading poems on this beautiful day. It all ends in a few hours with the arrival of rain. I felt the joy reaching through my screen as you describe a beautiful day.
Cara, four syllables was a challenge indeed – I was surprised by that!
I love this poem, and I’m excited to leave campus because I hear it’s a beautiful day out there. All we need are windows!
Cara, I would never have guessed you found this hard after reading your poem. Your repeated line fits in so naturally throughout and a world builds. I love the idea of seeing spring through winter eyes. It’s been so long!
Wonderful poetic tribute to a beautiful spring day. Thank you for sharing. I need to get out and enjoy more of this beautiful day.
With conferences coming up over the next two days, I am also trying to take note of the beautiful parts of each day. Thank you for pointing some specifics: sunshine, flowers, chances. I appreciate that you also included the last stanza with dark imagery–it makes the brighter stanzas even more so.
So many lovely springtime poems today. I think we could have a small collection, each special and unique. I love the gratitude expressed for the beautiful day. I love that “spring renews life / And clears the slate” Nice!
New day, new challenge. Constraints make me nervous *and* call forth different creative energies, so thanks, Denise, for the impulse. Here’s what came out today: an imagined exchange.
Grapevine, alright
I know that’s right
You know it too
I told her stop
Playin, he through
Look like trouble
I know that’s right
Don’t make no sense
No way, no how
Jesus, enough!
On my last nerve
I know that’s right
Lord, take the wheel!
What you say now?
Man done left town?
Whew! A blessing
I know that’s right.
Sherri, I share the anxieties of restraint. Fantastic title. Love the implied conversation in “I know that’s right” and “I told her stop.”
I know that’s right! This one was so real, I heard the voices in my head (and yes, I wanted to out a girl on the end of thar sentence). I’m hearing that last “I know that’s right ” as a solid “Amen”. Constraints sometimes help us find power.
Sherri, I love your use of “I know that’s right” popping up in each stanza! From your first lines, the conversation between I and You and writer and reader comes through strongly. I can hear it (and see it) all unfolding!
Sherri, I enjoyed the conversation. You bring so much life into your speech in poetic form, such inflection. I can hear it!
Denise,
Thanks for your prompt and the rules! I enjoyed working within the constraints you established for us and I loved your poem for your grandson, especially the third stanza.
Constant Promise
Hope is a seed
that raises a
constant promise
for all to keep
Grief’s a sting but
hope is a seed
a calming salve
applied softly
Despair’s a pox
destructive but
hope is a seed
that can restore
Life brings trouble
tears, toil, aches but
full of promise
hope is a seed
Chiara, my favorite part of your poem is the return to hope in the repeated line reminding me no matter the problem there’s always hope.
Oh my goodness, I love the woven nature of each stanza and from stanza to stanza! *Applause emoji* “Grief’s a sting but/ hope is a seed” “Despair’s a pox” – I really just love these lines!
I love the juxtaposition of these ideas with hope. “Grief is sting but hope is a seed” is perfect.
You selected a great line as your refrain- Hope is a seed. It is powerful in each stanza’s placement and what a joyful ending knowing hope will grow from that seed.
“Hope is a seed” – this is simply beautiful, Chiara. I found 4 syllables a line to be challenging, but you have nailed it with such brilliance. Thank you for spreading this hope!
This refrain is so powerful and you captured the enormity of it so concisely. Thanks you. I am left feeling hopeful after reading.
This poem speaks to the travails of life – the ups and downs, the human condition. Very effectively done with few words. Bravo!
Chiara, I love the message of hope. My poem today is similar. Your metaphor “hope is a seed” carries so much promise. I love all the contrasts you used to show the opposite of hope.
I loved so many lines….”Grief’s a sting but hope is a seed” So beautifully put..
“Despair’s a pox”- I never would have thought of that. I love the title as well.
Wow, I love “hope is a seed” and what a beautiful poem you built around it. I love the additional use of metaphors to show the anti-hope side of things. Beautiful!
I was listening to Nicole Hannah Jones interviewed by Glory Edim on the Well Read Black Girl Podcast this morning. It inspired me to write about teaching the truth.
Teach the Truth
Let’s teach the truth
August to June
Not just one month
Or holiday
Facts bring power
Let’s teach the truth
Sixteen nineteen
Brown Girl Dreaming
True history
Nurtures knowledge
Let’s teach the truth
Eyes are watching
Malcolm, Carter
Zora, Fannie
Lifelong models
Let’s teach the truth
©Stacey L. Joy, 4/5/22
Stacey, “Let’s teach the truth.” Amen! It’s the only thing we should teach and do it every day. Love the allusion to the incomparable Jacqueline Woodson’s “Brown Girl Dreaming.”
Did you catch “eyes are watching” for Zora? Tried to sneak it in with double meaning. ?
I did catch “Zora” but thought more about young children watching than Janie, one of my all-time favorite characters in one of my favorite novels. Thank you for redirecting my attention to those gorgeous lines. ?
I caught it, and loved it. It worked so well.
This right here! I feel very lucky to have caught sight of this awesome and uplifting poem before I turn in. Yes, “Let’s teach the truth”! Thank you, Stacey!
Ooops, I meant to make the title Teaching the Truth for 4 syllables. ?
This is my second comment that wants to be an Amen! Whew. This is our call, and you got me right off the bat. I love the double understanding of “eyes are watching”. Thank you.
Stacey,
I love love love this! I teach things every year that in another state I could get in trouble for, and I don’t know what I’d do under the ridiculous restrictions being bandied about. This is my favorite stanza:
Brown Girl Dreaming and eyes are watching– WOW, Stacey. This is pure gold. Let’s teach the truth, indeed. Thank you, also, for sharing what inspired you – I’m bookmarking the podcast to listen to soon!
Stacey, thank you for your encouraging poem, “Let’s teach the truth.” You and the others in this group bring me such strength to do just that every day or at least to give it a good try. Thank you.
Stacy, yes, we must! This makes me want to shout, “Let’s Teach the TRUTH!”
“Let’s teach the truth!” Preach it, my friend. “Eyes are watching” says so much. I think of all the young ones, black and white, who need to see the truth. But also, I think of the politicians who are trying to stuff and white-wash the truth. They need to see it too. My prayer is that someday, they will watch and be shamed into knowing the truth. (That seems to be all that motivates some. Beautiful poem, Stacey.
I love this form. Thank you!
The Morning News
Awake with dread.
Know what happened
during the night.
Violent acts
Gender bias
Immigrate, when?
Bigots speak out.
Awake with dread.
I shake inside.
Awake with dread.
People are hurt.
Frustration boils.
Action required.
What shall I do
before the day
awakes with dread?
Susan,
This is so apt right now. There seems to be a new missive that emerges each day. It’s truly exhausting. I can’t decide if I like your third or fourth stanza best, so I’ll just say they both hit perfectly. Thank you for sharing.
As a newspaper adviser, this poem really speaks to me. So much ugliness out there, especially in these 24 hour news cycles and divided narratives. Awake with dread is exactly right.
Susan, I am so often paralyzed by the world events that flood my notifications. You’ve captured this “dread” perfectly in this poem.
Awake with dread. I feel the dread every time I check the news. What shall I do? That’s the question I keep asking myself. Thanks for these observations, Susan.
So on point. Awake with dread is exactly what I do every day. and nothing to be done that I can come up with….
“The Morning News” and “awake with dread” sadly go together these days, Susan. The “Action required. / What shall I do…” lines seem to me a call to action. It requires me to do more thinking here.
I love a challenge! Thank you, Denise. Your poem is such a perfect welcome for your grandson.
Ode to Winter
I miss winter
A chilly nose
And chilly toes
Sweater weather
As heat gathers
I miss winter
Cozy blankets
Horror movies
Steam rising from
Hot chocolate
I miss winter
And comfy shawls
The sun blazes
Bringing in beach
Weather but still
I miss winter
As I get older, I like winter less and less, yet – I do prefer the bundles and coziness to the sweltering heat, so I am down with this poem! Love all the solid imagery in this one along with the great word choices like chilly, comfy, cozy. That final “but still” is what lingers with me. Nicely done, Saba.
Thank you, Denise. I grew up in Saudi Arabia with long summers and truncated winters so the season has always been special for me.
Saba, I loved your poem and I feel the same way. Here in Michigan we live for summer, but I have lately started to appreciate winter more each year. Cozy, warm, and comfy indeed.
Saba, I have some winter for you, but it would require a trip to Idaho. Of course, when the mercury rises, I’ll sing a different tune.
I love this poem even though I am a summer lover! We are anticipating 90-degree heat tomorrow and the rest of the week, so I’ll think about cooling off in winter! So many rich sensory details in your poem. Love the horror movies!
Saba, I love the imagery from “comfy shawls” to “hot chocolate.” It’s a little too soon for me to miss winter, but this poem will definitely hit the spot in two or three months. Thank you!
Saba, I can so relate to this after eight “winters” in Bahrain. Sweaters, cozy blankets and hot chocolate come and go very quickly there. Right now, I’m sitting in the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. wrapped up in a blanket, still shivering, while I read poems. Have a great (albeit long) summer!
Denise, I had to think about this for a few hours, because I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea. Visuals always help. So, after I read your poem, I figured it out. I love how this style uses a line repeatedly throughout the stanzas. Your line, “Day star dawning” resonated with me because it reminds me of a new day, where the sun shines bright and where we can begin again. A new day brings a new life. Congratulations on the upcoming birth of your grandson!
Today, my hunger gave me inspiration! Food is one of the things that makes me happy and unfortunately, my weight tells on me. So, although I can change this, I choose not to right now because this is one of the few things that continually bring me joy! With my new job, we (students and teachers) have lunch together and it feels so great not having to skip lunch to catch up on work. This is my joy at the moment!
Mundane Delight
Taco Tuesday
Favorite Day
Trio tacos
Crunchy grease chips
Melted white cheese
Taco Tuesday
Cilantro leaves
Crisp taco shells
Ranging salsa
Mild to spicy
Taco Tuesday
Mouths full of joy
Happy faces
Pleasure tidbits
For goats and chicks
Taco Tuesday!
I LOOOOOVE TACOS! You got me on that alone. I laughed out loud at “Mouths full of joy” because that is the truth. I also appreciate reading a bit of backstory here – isn’t nice to just be able to have lunch with others again? I can just hear the full-mouthed laughter of this crew. This makes me want tacos so bad! And sorry for people who can’t eat cilantro, because that is the most unique flavor kick. Thanks, Jessica!
You’re welcome Denise, I didn’t realize how much I loved tacos until we had them weekly here. I felt off during Spring Break when Taco Tuesday came around. I could have easily went and gotten my own though, but I was enjoying not having to go anywhere. We actually eat in the kitchen at the table, so it gives more of a homely feeling. And oh the chatter! It’s quite comical. And yes, cilantro definitely makes them pop!
Making them tonight!
Yes!!!! What time is dinner?
Jessica,
Your poem made me smile and made my mouth water for tacos. Yummers! This was a fun read. So glad you can eat with your students again.
You’re welcome Chiara, lol! And thank you. This is my first year at this school and the program is only in its second year. So we are definitely like a family!
Oh Taco Tuesday is really every day! I love all the variations and “Mouths full of joy!” Tacos are the best!
I can go with that! The kids’ favorite part aren’t really the tacos, but the chips…dry tortilla chips! Ha. But whatever makes them happy. And thank you!
Just name the place, and I’ll be there to enjoy the “melted white cheese” and “cilantro.” What a yummy poem!
At your nearest kitchen table Katrina!!! Yes, I was definitely ready for lunch today!
Ohhh, man — the sensory detail! My favorite line: “crunchy grease chips.” Soooo good! Now I want tacos!
Go for it Wendy! The details definitely make it better! Yes, I was restricted to the number of syllables because they are definitely greasy, but grease chips suit them well too, lol!
I had a job once where we all ate together–teachers and students. It was fabulous, (hot lunch was a perk in our teacher contract.) I think it is important to eat together rather than everyone going back to their own rooms to work. I enjoyed every detail, and I too want to have some tacos!
Denise, I just loved your poem about your impending arrival! How thrilled you must be.
Thanks for the fun form: I love the opportunity to learn new structures. Here’s my offering for today.
Liberated
Child dreaming
Yearning, turning…
Out the window
Dawns dreams of flight.
Silver crossbow
Plumes like pillows
From tail billows…
The dream of flight.
Smoky slipstream
Swallows daydreams
In child’s mind teems…
A dream of flight.
Bell is ringing
Heartbeat singing
Finally bringing…
The dream of flight.
Denise, I am very intrigued. I love your “ing” verbs because it reminds me of a song. It has such a glistening flow. The first stanza is my favorite:
“Child dreaming
Yearning, turning…
Out the window
Dawns dreams of flight.
I think we all were once that child. Windows, literal and metaphorically, always seem to be the best way to escape our reality. Thank you for sharing.
OOOH, this poem reminds me of the new picture book entitled MAYBE by the author who wrote What Do You Do With an Idea (I can’t remember her name). The idea of this dream of flight and all the purposes for which we are here are so rich in your poem and in the book.
Oh, that book looks so cool! Thanks for recommending it, Kim!
Wendy, how fun and like a daydream is this poem–full of lovely images “plumes like pillows” for instance. Beautiful! I went away for a while in reading it twice.
Never Expected
By: Emily Yamasaki
Not expected
A surgery
Open layers
For a child
Bright lights above
Not expected
Scrub sink on right
Shakes shakes the shakes
Am I asleep
Am I conscience
Not expected
Am I okay?
Usually
I’m most prepared
A child, but
Not expected
Your words today, Emily, remind me of my first child birth. Yes, the open layers in surgery were unexpected. Actually it was a lot easier than a vaginal childbirth. Hope your unexpected manner of birthing will bring healing and joy!
Emily,
Your poem is eery and haunting. It captured the stress of the moment so vividly. Thank you for sharing.
oops, eerie!
Emily, this was so moving. Love the play on “expected” (with its suggestion of expectant, expecting…). Beautiful!
Ohhh wow, I’m not sure if I’m misinterpreting so I won’t throw my questions at you. I’ll say this, my first baby was a C-section so the shakes were very relevant. But my first baby also had 5 surgeries before he was a year old so the “A child, but not expected” brought back memories of waiting for the doctor to come out and say my baby was fine.
So much to unpack! You did a LOT with this 4 x 4!
Emily, wow, that really is “not expected” and for someone who is “usually…most prepared” not easy. “Open layers” is such a graphic image.
picnic
let’s improvise
that boy’s two fish
five loaves of bread
blessing and boom!
your fine apple
let’s improvise
my pocket knife
your piece my piece
spread my sweater
come lay down here
let’s improvise
sunlight so soft
picnic party
your head goes here
my hand, your back
let’s improvise
Kevin, this was so sweet! What a beautiful tableau you create. Loved it!
thank you Wendy!
Kevin, what a lovely dance of woman and man here in your poem. The comfort of loving relaxation and assurance and security in the union is felt strongly.
thank you Kim!
thanks for your kind words Kasey.
Kevin, what a love story picnic sharing an apple. I love this, and like the two fish and five loaves, I’m sure that fine apple was plenty. Beautiful.
Horizon Bound
by Andy Schoenborn
Under the sky
I see you rise
Lifting your face
Standing with pride
Gather your strength
Under the sky
Lifting others
Becoming one
Release the weight
Of your burdens
Under the sky
And rise to light
Catching comets
Silvery streaks
Horizon bound
Under the sky
Andy, I love the “lift” of this poem. A lovely call to action. Memorable alliterative lines. Thanks for this.
Horizon bound…..lifting face, rising to light. I sense a flower but this could also be a person, or a child, someone growing in truth and wisdom. This is beautiful, Andy.
Oh, Andy, this is so precious, a celestial dream for a bright future. It’s beautiful.
Thank you, Denise, for this wonderful idea. And excited for your new addition to the family :). I needed those rules today to get me through some stress-induced writers’ block. Here’s my poem about seeking joy in stressful times and finding it here:
Joy in small things
Cup of tea warm
Fireplace blazing
A good book worn
Breezes blow gently
Joy in small things
Tulips blooming red
Poems online read
Busy April comes
Keyboard clacking
Joy in small things
Poems online wrote
Friendly chatter
Brain creative
Maybe? Yes! Let’s Go!
Joy in Small things
I love how you wrote about tea.
I like how your poem is positive. It made me feel cozy and optimistic.
I like how it’s calming.
Hi Jinan,
I love the cozy images in this piece! “Fireplace blazing;” “Breezes blow gently;” and “Poems online read” embrace me as a reader. Thank you!
Jinan, the joy in small, simple things and authentic moments is second to none, Especially the good books…..oh, the wonder of reading the worlds that fall open between pages.
Hi Jinan,
I am all about the appreciation of joy in small things! I love this because when life is crazy busy, these seem like big things:
Longing for the small things during Spring Break next week!
Jinan, I love the joy in small things you have gathered here in your 4×4. I’m glad the form helped you come up with this beauty!
The Way I’m Not
You aren’t yourself…
not in the least.
I can’t define
the mistreatment.
Your arms, they bend,
but you can’t hold
yourself upright.
unforgiving.
The creases in
your stoic brow
beg me to be
the way I’m not.
Hide your eyes, now.
Hide your white teeth.
Lyrics are gone,
and soon, you too.
I chose not to repeat the refrain. I typically struggle with confines, but I really enjoyed this prompt! .
Hi Stephenos,
There is a palpable tension throughout this piece. The third stanza “The creases in /
your stoic brow / beg me to be / the way I’m not.” emphasizes this tension. Wonderful piece!
Thank you so much!
Wow, this is a powerful piece, Stephenos. “the way I’m not” and “can’t define the mistreatment” show that unease in a relationship that doesn’t seem to be honest and lasting. “lyrics are gone” is quite haunting too.
This one is another ekphrastic poem inspired by this Julie Speed painting.
A match aflame
is held aloft.
Fire focuses
the eye, the mind.
But these eyes aren’t
a match. A flame
won’t catch these eyes,
any of them.
The field once green,
now roaring from
a match, a flam-
ing horizon.
Make a wish. Then
a quick escape.
Behold, beware
a match aflame.
Your descriptions are perfect! I love the way you vary the refrain line in each stanza. Very clever.
Hi Joel,
I would love to see the painting together with your poem. I’ve looked at to artwork and it is striking! The repetition of “A match aflame” reminds me of fire working its way down a matchstick as it reaches the bottom. Thank you for this!
Thanks, Andy! This one and others are at middleagedmiddlechild 🙂
Joel . . . impressive stuff. I love how you take variations of the words and really make it work!
How differently I read the poem after viewing the painting. It’s amazing what happens when the image and poem can be read together, so to speak. I’m fascinated by the idea, the form and word play.
Very cool! Love the painting. Love the ferocity of this poem.
Joel, it was so great to look at the painting while reading your poem. “a match aflame” can have so many effects and meanings. I also smiled with:
Well done!
Uncertainty
Today I’m blind
to the future.
What it will hold.
What I will do.
I cannot see,
what today brings.
Stuck in the now.
Worried future.
University,
saying goodbye.
Today there’s peace.
Tomorrow, worry.
Four years fly by.
Memories, stress.
I see an end.
Today I’m done.
Emma–Oh, how I remember the abyss that exists when you finish college.
“I cannot see,
what today brings.
Stuck in the now.
Worried future.”
This stanza says it all, simply and eloquently…
i
Emma, you know how some people say, “Been there, done that”? Well I’m not going to say it because many people may have been there, but we don’t respond the same way as others. I have been in college, but my “there” could very well be different from your “there”. There was definitely uncertainty and worry, but I do know that the joy of being finished, and seeing an end was well celebrated! Thank you for sharing!
Emma I really love how you took this moment as a point of focus and departure. It’s such a relatable transition and the backward/forward movement and stuckness of it comes through so well here.
Emma, this is a tough time to be graduating from college! The worry is real. Try to roll with it and have faith that life will lead you where it needs you to go. Say “yes” to every opportunity–that’s what got me here, writing with this wonderful group that feeds my soul. Beautiful poem–you are an excellent writer!
Emma, wow! You poem shows the stress of finishing another chapter. So many good things, but also the stress of the unknown future. All the best to you as you graduate! I smiled with that last line, “Today I’m done.”
Day Dream Fly By
This Superman
Died on Doomsday
Leaving behind
Treehouse dreamers
Blink by daylight
This Superman
Left the movies
For shaded swings
Waves on the beach
Toys left behind
This Superman
Saved this summer
Until just now
I was up there
Knowing Sky like
This Superman
Alex,
There is a real wistfulness to this poem that just really gets me. I’m not sure if that was your intention, but I’m picking up on it.
I love this Alex, and honestly I didn’t even notice the refrain, in the ways you embedded it. My favorite line is “knowing sky like.” A great line that says so much.
Alex-
What a cool poem. Love the ambiguity of it, the imagery of it, and where it took my brain. Awesome job.
Alex,
There is both. dreamlike and nostalgic tone to your poem. I can imagine you as a young boy playing in the treehouse, watching Superman movies, imagining yourself rescuing the world. These are the things that let kettle boys grow up to be super men. Lovely poem.
Alex, your poem leaves me with questions and wonders. I image a Superman of your youth and now your daydream of “knowing sky like/ This Superman” Wow. I do like this one.
Denise,
Thank you for the challenging form today. I tend to resist form so it’s good for me to be shoved into it occasionally. I have never been introduced to the 4×4, so thanks for the exposure. I will definitely have my students work with this.
I am wrapping up season after season of watching four kids compete in various sports. Our last child is playing his last sport, so I thought about how much time I have sat on bleachers watching them all compete. No wonder the hips ache and the backside has widened.
Through Three Seasons
Butt on bleachers
watching him play
competing hard
giving it all
Football is first
butt on bleachers
catching spirals
interceptions
Basketball next
Dad is the coach
butt on bleachers
Three-point shooter
Last . . .Field of Dreams
snapping curveballs
while I fret with
butt on bleachers
~Susan Ahlbrand
5 April 2022
Susan–love the sequencing through the sports–and the alliteration of butt on bleacher!! I remember those days with a certain bit of pain (in my butt!)
Susan, I really enjoyed this! (And I love that you went with the allusion in your last stanza rather than something like “Last is Baseball.” If you write it, we will read it!)
Susan, this is the life of a “soccer mom,” but your butt will miss those bleachers one day.
Susan, a perfect refrain for a sports mom! That is quite an accomplishment for your sporty son (and a loss, actually, that your last child is in his last sport.) I like your use of “Field of Dreams” for baseball. Lovely!
Denise, thanks so much for hosting today and offering this wonderful poetry prompt. Prayers for your new grandbaby, too!
Longing to Write─
a perfect poem
is river shine
glittering gold─
lazy boat floats
mountain high life
a perfect poem
winding road wings
a rocky edge
red bud trees spring
lemon shadows
a perfect poem
plays in dark woods
feathered Iowa
skies fan warm dreams
nature creates
a perfect poem
Barb Edler
5 April 2022
Barb, I love this! “Longing to write — a perfect poem” is such a wonderful poetic pursuit, and I think you’ve done it! (And I also love the acknowledgement and truism that we try, try, try, and nature is like, hold my foliage: Bam, perfect poem. Lol.)
Barb, I agree that nature pens the perfect poem. Favorite lines: “a perfect poem
plays in dark woods.”
Barb, I have always felt as if nature and poetry are best friends; your sweet 4 x 4 with its many beautiful nature images echoes this. I have several favorite lines – “winding road wings,” “lemon shadows,” and “skies fan warm dreams.” Love it!
Barb, you are writing the perfect description of that perfect nature poem in lines like these: “red bud trees spring
lemon shadows”
and
“is river shine
glittering gold”
Wow!
I love trying to write in a specific form with specific rules, syllables, Denise. Thanks for the prompt!
Now I can breathe
if only for
a little while;
sit back, relax.
Last essay marked,
now I can breathe
after grading
one-hundred five.
It’s time for all
the poetry.
Now I can breathe,
love what I teach.
Still work to do;
youth need feedback,
but just for right
now I will breathe.
I love your emphasis on loving what you do but also how much work and business comes with it. It is possible to find relaxing times, but it is quickly followed by the stress of getting things done.
Angie,
Your poem really works. It doesn’t feel at all forced . . . the syllable count and refrain are so natural . . . especially at the end with the slight shift. Your emotion shines through, too.
The final line of “now I will breathe” provides the just right dose of awareness, switching from “now I can breathe” in previous stanzas. It’s the setting of a healthy boundary that shines through in the final stanza.
I remember the times when after grading and writing all the progress reports I felt i could finally relax and breathe. I enjoy my retirement now but miss some of those days. Thanks for reminding me of those days and that now I do breathe.
Yes! I breathed right along with you. Thank you so much for this, both for the powerful images of shared experience, and for the reminder to breathe. Just for right now. This is gorgeous. Take that well-earned breath. Whew. And get ready to do it again!
Angie, I loved breathing during your poem…I love the change in the refrain in the last stanza too. It makes a statement of purpose and surety that you are going to breathe! Congrats on marking and giving feedback on 105 essays!
Bibliophile
Bibliophile!
So many books
Paperback kids
Have their own lives
Bursting with story
Bibliophile!
Stolen moments
Fitting in time
Buffalo Bookstore
A peek inside
Bibliophile!
Speak Jane Eyre There,There
I Love To Read
Young Adult Lit
Conversation
Bibliophile!
Jennifer I’m sharing this poem with one of my book loving girls who is writing her poetry anthology about her love of books!!! Love it 🙂
Jennifer, what a wonderful celebration of books and being a bibliophile! I know one of my best friends would love this poem. Oh, the joy a bookstore or library brings, but the conversation about books offers so much more! Fun and relatable poem!
Jennifer,
Live this celebration of books and seeing Jane Eyre beside There, There.
I’m done. I got to Speak Jane Eyre There,There, and I was done. A goner. Thank you for drawing me in as a reader.
Jennifer,
So many fun lines here like:
So much to love about books!
I am trying to change the things I cannot accept!
It Won’t Get Me!
Arthritis stinks
Predicts the rain
It slows me down
But I don’t stop
Rest when needed
Arthritis stinks
Medicine helps
Exercise too
Can sit all day
Or push myself
Arthritis stinks
Get up and walk
Aging is hard
But life is good
Movement is sweet
Arthritis stinks.
My mother had bad arthritis in her ankle, i think you are channeling her!
I love your determination in this poem! “Push myself, get up and walk” Yes, you go girl!! 🙂
Rita, wow, I can so relate to your poem. I love how your last stanza really adds a punch. I agree aging is hard and arthritis stinks! Excellent poem!
Hi Rita! Thanks for sharing your poem! I know the feeling you are speaking of although not entirely the same. I had two ACL meniscus surgeries from playing soccer. The rainy weather reminds me:)
Rita,
Your refrain really works . . . that repeat of the key idea fits perfectly in each stanza!
Oh my goodness, Rita! My sentiment exactly! Arthritis stinks. Today we had some fog and I could feel it. I just got up from a 20 min rest that I must take every day to ease the aches. Yes, keep on moving. This poem really sums it up well.
Oh, yes, Rita, arthritis stinks. I love that last stanza…
Wow. Even in the midst of the arthritis, your words ring true and full of gratitude.
dormant stems rouse–
Nellie Stevens
is no spring Syring-
a vulgaris
adaptable
dormant stems rouse
laughable shrub
perished in frost
glabrously green
gay corollas
dormant stems rouse
lush lilac blooms
conical dust
panicle lust
for lilac tints–
Dormant stems, rouse!
[I miss the lush, robust lilacs of Illinois.]
Sarah, your poem had me searching for definitions (which I love–new words!). I feel this so much as I miss the Mountain Laurel in Austin this time of year. I really love the rhythm and parallelism of “conical dust/panicle lust.” Thank you for sharing (and facilitating!).
Sarah, I agree that there is something so special about a lilac bush, the blooms and scent are glorious! Love the last stanza and “panicle lust/for lilac tints”…I’m longing for some blooms this time of year. The grass has started to green, but there is a whole lot of dead looking trees and brush everywhere here. Love your word choice throughout this poem! Thank you!
laughable shrubs, glabrously green. For those two phrases alone, I thank you!
I just took a break…walked some. Went by a street lined with lilacs just now coming to Spring…an awakening. I can’t wait for the blooms and smells. Sarah, adore everything about this poem….perfection. Syllabic sunshine. (and timely)
syllabic sunshine–ha! Brian wins the comments today. Loved your poem Sarah. It felt like a meditative call to get going–come on Spring!
Sarah,
Your poem evokes both the beauty and scent of lilacs I loved growing up. I’m so impressed w/ your knowledge of botany, too.
What a call to bloom for those Oklahoma lilacs. So many interesting words and sounds here, Sarah. Thank you for teaching us a thing or two today.
Denise, This was tough! I felt constrained, locked in my drain, but I let it drain. . Didn’t quite make it with the repeated refrain, but … what the heck. This is Open Write and we’re invited to participate, period! Thanks for the challenge
Apprehension Tension
Apprehension
Will it go well
No one can tell
Thoughts locked in cell
Wondering how
Doing it now
Will it be good
And understood
Apprehension
Can cause tension
Will it go well
Not inside cell
Come on, get out
Do not let doubt
Stifle your thought.
Do what you ought!
Anna, your message is perfect although I kind of thought of prison with “Not inside cell” and “Come on, get out”…I agree “Do what you ought!” Love your ability to rhyme your words and keep them connected to the message your poems create. Wonderful poem!
Anna, your lines,
“Apprehension
Can cause tension
Will it go well
Not inside cell” got me thinking of how much of our emotions we lock inside our minds. We don’t want to let anyone see us sweat, cry, or be happy, so we keep it all in and it creates a wall with no doors. Your drain let out quite a bit. I’m glad you were able to let it escape from its cell. We must set ourselves free! Thank you for sharing.
Anna, that last stanza speaks volumes about doing what needs to be done to build confidence and do the right thing.
I really appreciate your tonal shift through the poem. From uncertainty to an exclaimed call to action!
Anna, your rhyming is always so fun! Yes, indeed, it is open write, and you are here, and we are the better for it. My favorites: “Do not let doubt / Stifle your thought.”
“Sick days and ways”
I am still sick:
Nothing too bad—
Daycare cooties—
At least he’s well.
Took the day off.
I am still sick.
Why is it so
Hard to take care?
The house is still.
Opportune time!
I am still sick.
I guess I’ll rest.
Wellness eludes.
Has for the last
Couple of months.
I am still sick.
Laura, I love this line – Daycare cooties. It made me chuckle. I hope that you can find wellness soon. This has been a tough year for many people. Take care.
Such a relatable poem. It seems that being sick is something we would rather endure than our husbands/partners have, *cough cough* man colds.
Laura,
This ongoing illness sounds wretched. Are you experiencing long covid? Get well. Take care.
Hi Glenda! Luckily, not COVID—have managed to avoid it thus far! My son seems to be bringing home a revolving door of bugs home with him from daycare beginning in February. We’ll have a week of illness make its way through the house, a couple of weeks of wellness, and then another one hits!
The irony is masking and lockdowns both protected us from covid and the flu and bugs but also made us more susceptible once we unmasked and socializing returned. Take care!
Laura, wow, this is powerful. The refrain you have used with the word still says so much. That third stanza resonates. Sometimes with the stillness of the house, it does seem an opportune time to get something done. However, when you are sick, rest is all one can muster. Here’s to good health in the very near future.
Oh no, not the “daycare cooties” boooo!!! I hope you and your baby feel better soon! Your poem’s refrain brings home the stress of how sickness lasts a bit too long.
Rest. I’m sure it’ll help.
Denise, thank you for this fun exercise – just a perfect way to get the mind flowing this morning. Your poem shares your delight, your overflowing joy and anticipation about your new grandson to be! So excited for you! I love these two lines, especially:
Here’s my 4×4 for today –
breathe in breathe out
breathe in breathe out
morning is here
welcome my nook
quiet time write
hold my hot tea
breathe in breathe out
notebook on lap
what poem will be?
precious the day
hear my heart beat
breathe in breathe out
write to release
be present here
know all is well
dream say feel write
breathe in breathe out
Maureen, this is such a calm and serene poem. I may print it out and put it in my notebook to remind myself to breathe, be present and remember that every day is a precious gift. Thank you!
There is such a great cadence here of breathing in and out, and the repetition really works. I found myself slowing down my breath. Thank you!
Maureen, when I first read the prompt today, I was immediately captured with the breathe in reference. Love how you have incorporated this refrain. There’s so many levels of your poem I can relate to from being present to writing to release to trying to take the time to consciously breathe in and breathe out. You’ve created a marvelous poem today! Thank you!
Maureen–your poem calmed me and makes me ready for the day ahead. “precious the day”/k”know all is well” It is, thanks to you!
Maureen,
Beautiful meditation on the power of writing and having a set writing time. Your repeated line is perfect.
Love the line you selected as the refrain- breathe in breathe out. As I read your piece, I did just that and it brought such calm. What a lovely piece.
Love the repetition of breathe in, breathe out. Be present. Always much harder than it sounds.
Maureen, that beauty is a meditation this morning. “breathe in, breathe out” made me do just that as I read your poem. I love “dream say feel write” too.
Denise, this prompt pushed me, and for that I thank you. I love your poem and can’t wait for the arrival of both our little day stars.
get out of bed
get out of bed
open your orbs
put feet on floor
abandon snore
Puck peeks his head
get out of bed
play fetch instead
no time to dread
the cats want fed
the day’s ahead
get out of bed
the night needs shed
some poems you’ve read
in writing said
sunlight will ebb
get out of bed
—Glenda Funk
April 4, 2022
Wow, Glenda – I am very impressed with all the rhyming you have woven into your 4×4! I feel the motion and emotions of getting out of bed – the pull of the “to do’s” (feed the cat, play fetch) and the desire to linger in bed and write…
Glenda, you ought to read this to your incoming day star! I’m impressed by your rhymes within the 4×4 constraints. I especially love your fourth stanza. Thanks for sharing.
Glenda, I love how you have captured such a strong voice calling you to rise and shine in a lyrical poem. You’ve shared the daily demands well without making them seem a chore, but just something that offers a reason to rise. Loved “sunlight will ebb/get out of bed” Very fun and energetic poem!
Great rhymes! Very impressive with the short syllable restriction! I can relate to the feeling of needing to tell yourself to get out of bed; it’s always a struggle!
Glenda, how fun! I love the rhyming pattern you chose. It seems to start slow, with the orbs/floor/snore lines. Then the rest of the poem goes into the frenetic pace of the morning after you “get out of bed.” Great fun!
Glenda, there’s a loving pull to get you out of bed here. Love it! I’m marveling at your perfect flow and rhymes too. For someone who may have a lot to do after getting out of bed, thank you for this gift!
?
Poetic Wood
4 X 4 poem
brings to my mind
some structure of
wood: pine, cedar,
or maybe oak
4 X 4 poem
you are surely
strong, capable
of holding much
treasure within
4 X 4 poem
you are also
weatherized true
wait, I must be
thinking of a
2 X 4 poem
___________________________
Thanks, Denise, this was fun! I loved the warmth, rising, and growing you wove throughout your mentor poem: “dawning,” “rising round womb,” and the “Family grows / Into sunshine.” Thank you!
I love how the 4 x 4 flipped to a 2 x 4 – the cornerstone of all house building, it seems…and I wonder if this 4 x 4 is also a basic building block for us, setting the framework (see what I did there?) for more writing to come…
Maureen, sweet observation. I like that idea–the 4×4 being the foundation for further writing.
Scott, I love the wordplay of your 4×4! I especially love the image of the poem “holding much/treasure within”. Thanks for sharing!
Scott, your poem definitely made me laugh. I love the end, and your title is rather provocative. Very fun poem!
I enjoyed this way of bringing the 4×4 poem into the conversation and considering its possible qualities. The 2×4 ending lends a humorous twist.
Oh, Scott, as usual, you have written a sweet and funny prize here for us today. I wondered where you were going with weatherized, and sure enough, that lovely light-hearted surprise came. A 2×4!
Light
Author Freddy Cavazos
The light is out
I imagine
To warm our Hearts
To make me blush
I enjoy it
The light is out
But why today
Because it is
Here to stay as
Previous day
The light is out
With promise
Of a better
Day filling the
Air with Kindness
The light is out
Love the varied imaginings about light – “But why today?” and that it leads to promise, kindness. I like the mystery about the simple word “out,” leaving me wondering as to whether you write about early morning light or its opposite, the darkening of a day. You’ve caught me up in your poem – which is delightful!
Freddy, the opening lines got me blushing! What’s coming? Lights out? What’s going on?
Thanks for the promise of a better day that will fill the air with kindness or a least with fun when the lights are out. 🙂
Freddy, “the light is out” is a beautiful refrain. I guess it could have two meanings, the opposite of the way you took yours. Your meaning clearly comes through in such warm phrases as “to warm our hearts”, “with promise” and “filling the /
Air with Kindness” This line made me smile: “To make me blush.”
Denise–I am always challenged by syllable count poems, and this is no exception. Your poem resonated with me, as I have recently (2 months) become a grandmother. Joy and hoping really is what life is all about… However, when I finished my poem and got ready to publish, I realized I was not following the rules. What a shock. I was always bad at reading to perform a task.
4 by 4
Four seems so harsh
I live oddly.
It seems to me
that odd numbers
are easier
for me to hold
and to carry
for long distance.
Four? Sharp corners,
righteous beliefs,
indignation,
proper methods.
Four is stable,
unmoveable,
resisting change.
Houses? Four walls.
Four directions
Four street corners
Four elements
Four suits of cards.
(Inflexible!)
Odds are erratic.
Unpredicta-
ble, haphazard,
cannot be divided
evenly.They
stick together
or stand stranded
on the outside
after all, so odds
must work things out
so they are not
Alone.
GJSands 4-5-2022
Gayle, this is awesome! Poets are meant to be rebels and I am glad you did not simply submit to “following the rules.” I love how you playfully explore the restrictiveness of ‘even’ versus the unpredictability of ‘odd’ – I really enjoy the four syllable ‘negative’ words (inflexible!, indignation, unmoveable) which really build the emphasis that “Four seems so harsh.” Very clever poem! Congrats on your new grandchild!!
So many clever things about this. Of course the way you describe the characteristics of even and odd numbers – all the “fours”! My favorite is the breaking up of the 5 syllable unpredictable – such cool meaning!
Gayle, wow, I love how your poem shares feelings of conflict: feeling left out, being “stranded on the outside” and alone. Wonderful word choice and provocative poem! Thank you!
As a fellow “odd” person, I was really feeling this poem. The 3rd stanza is the perfect description of the deficit of 4s! I appreciate the “odd side” of the poem, too. It was like a bonus poem!
Gayle, fun! Rules are made to be broken (see Kevin’s today). I love the treatment here of the even “fours” and the flexible and interesting odds. Great rule breaking for a super poem.
Thank you for the prompt, Denise! I love this exercise… that’s what I’m calling my attempt. This morning I remain inspired by, yet another robin, attempting to build a nest on the drain just underneath our patio roof.
tenacity
morning waking
window gazing
robin nesting
under our roof
earnest search this
morning waking
stands of long grass
transforming death
into something
like hope, home for
morning waking
and promises
of blue shell life
passing forward
patterns of our
morning waking
Shelly,
Love the bird inspiration and the lowercase “tenacity” — there is something so welcoming and possible about a smaller t. The capital T tenacity is intimidating.
What a lovely phrase “of blue shell life”!
Sarah
Shelly, I love the hope in your poem. Today I worked in my West Michigan garden and there is a robin nesting in the tree above. Wondering, were you watching me as you wrote this poem? Thanks for seeing that I should be tenacious, holding on to the idea that the snow is gone for the year and soon the flowers will spring up!
Shelly, so much to love here! Tenacity is a perfect title. I have a tenacious bird building a nest in my yard this year. I love: “transforming death
into something
like hope,” and “blue shell life” – Such beauties!
Greetings, Denise, and good morning! Now that you’re in Cali I can say good morning and know that you’re in my same time zone. I didn’t realize you’d relocated so congratulations on your new adventures.
You have chosen an interesting and challenging form and I love that because I won’t stay in the rabbit hole too long. I love what you’ve done with yours and especially felt the sweet anticipation from the last stanza. I assure you, the new baby will definitely be a source of sunshine for your family. I never imagined the blessings that my great niece brings. It’s surreal. Love, love, love!!
Looking forward to writing a little later this afternoon. ?
April Four Square
Into the air
Blue jays venture,
Perch on branches,
Bright magnolia.
Blue-magenta,
Open window.
April comes now,
Wondrous and new.
The gray morning
Softens and warms.
Jays greet the day,
Present, eager.
All accounted for,
Birds, bees, flowers.
Gardens bloom.
Springtime begins.
Word Dancer,
I read yours after Shelly’s, who also illuminated the color blue today. How wonderful to see that thread here. “Blue jays venture” and “Blue-magenta,/ Open window”. I like thinking about “Jays greet the day,” and have just noticed that a bird is singing into my window now.
Peace,
Sarah
This feels like an orchestra assembling, making ready for a symphony of sound, color, fragrance…so sensory!
I love your use of the signs of spring – the blooms, too, especially, bring that pop of imagery color to the setting. I’m ready for the warmth of sunshine on my shoulders!
Word Dancer, this is my favorite springtime poem this year! It has so many beautiful phrases and promises that spring offers. “wondrous and new” “softens and warms” “present, eager” and that last stanza–a roll call of the springtime players.
Good Morning, Denise….family grows into sunshine warmed my heart more that this 2nd cup of coffee. I really appreciate the challenge for brevity this morning, as I tend to be an excessive thinker – there’s joy in being contained and having limitations. I appreciate the boundaries of your challenge…the happiness of a poetic puzzle.
Academy
Evidently,
I inhabit
bureaucracy
reluctantly,
as carnivals
evidently
administrate
effortlessly.
Hi, Sysiphus.
The bolder. The hill
evidently
(repeatedly)
inhibits me
excessively.
Gordian knot?
Evidently.
Bryan,
I love your poem but do not like this Sysiphus stuff. I wish we could turn it to gravel and kick it along the path. I wish you Alexander’s sword to cut the knot of all that inhibits you. Imagining what else you could do is sort of beyond my imagination — you already do so much whilst bush a bolder and hand tied. Wow.
Peace,
Sarah
(now you’ve given me new things to think about)(and #VerseLove is the sword I need)
Oh, i can relate, evidently. I’ve said the academy is a circus, but I like carnival better. Feel like Sysiphus, and I’m no sissy…
This was easier than I thought it would be. Imagine being inspired by a silly pink bird! Or is it my own grandchild, who’s seven and continues to keep his stuffed animals close. Joy is waiting for you, Denise! Thanks for the prompt, It was easier than I thought it would be.
Pink Flamingo
plopped on pillow
with orange beak
and gangly legs,
What sweet tales told
pink flamingo,
to little boy
and stuffed brown bear?
I’m too old to
hear your whispers,
pink flamingo
with flightless wings.
I do not hear.
You cannot fly.
Still he loves us,
pink flamingo.
Ann, The first four lines (alliteration) and description are simply delicious. I will be repeating these in my head all day. One stanza, and you’ve made me bird-brained for language play. Also love that brown bear (grumpy, I suppose, but that would be too many syllables) is too old for the whispers. Something tells me these lines may experience rebirth somewhere….someday.
Ann, I too found my inspiration in a bird. I love your connections with your grandson’s life of imagination and love for both of you. Your lines, “I’m too old to hear your whispers,” especially resonates with me as I watch and play with my own grandchild. There is such a gift in their perspective and possibility.
Ann,
I tend to read the poems published around the time that I write, and so I am finding lovely hues and tints of spring from Word Dancer, Shelly, and you. Pink! How wonderful for you to welcome readers with “Pink Flamingo” and the joy of the “orange beak”! And the last lines “Still he loves us,/pink flamingo.” I am rereading the last lines to decipher the “he” and “us” and pink flamingo family.
Peace,
Sarah
Ann, so very poignant – you and your pink flamingo have totally filled my heart today. So much love and gratitude in your lines – it’s palpable.
So much fun ?- All the art is phenomenal! Thank y’all for letting me be a part of such a talented group!
Life Four by RUN!
One, Two,Three,Four,
I count no more.
Four, Three, Two, One,
Ready, set, RUN!
Every year Cake,
Age cannot Fake
One again-cheer,
Older with tear.
First, Middle, twelve,
decide ourselves?
sixty look back
thirty year plaque.
Candle one cake,
Grandson blessed sake.
Four, three, two, one,
Ready son?-RUN!!
Boxer,
The meter and rhyme here offers whimsy within the truth of time running on. Love the shift from “set” to “son” and the new meaning of RUN with the extra exclamation signaling family and a new way of thinking about counting.
Peace,
Sarah
Boxer, I like the reversal of numbers from the beginning to the end. Sometimes we just want to hit the rewind button and go back a moment to do it all over again when we can take more time to enjoy the moments that matter.
Omg, I did not attempt rhyme, but you’ve inspired me. This is so accessible on the ear & the heart. Love how this Verse Love challenge (& poetry generally) gets us thinking about family so often. What a blessing year in & year out!
Thank you for the inspiration, Denise. Your stunning imagery found its way into my poem today.
Writing
By Shaun
How many words,
evasive, coy,
will I now chase
seeking closure?
Thousands, I know.
How many words
will twist away
from my blank page?
It’s not that hard.
Write what you know.
How many words?
You’re almost done.
Sunlight guides me.
Soft, beaming rays,
warmly answer.
How many words?
Shaun, this line resonates with me and is what I tell students: write what you know. You remind us that we are the keeper of our stories – – only we can write the ones we know like we know ’em. And that refrain so cleverly travels to take on different meanings each time. I like your 4×4
I love how the movement of your refrain sound throughout and the personification. Lovely!
The refrain, Shaun, ‘how many words,’ offers multiple angles for context…counting down as an assignment, checking progress, figuring out the language to express what we mean, the repetition in what we say. Overcast in the northeast…I need sunlight to guide me.
Shaun,
Such a lovely reflection and answer to the question of “how many words” — words and meaning cannot be quantified and yet the form welcomes four by four as a possible answer for today. I like the lines “Sunlight guides me./Soft, beaming rays” — such a wonderful way of thinking about welcoming words.
Peace,
Sarah
Shaun, this is beautiful. I love the answers given along the way. I can picture you writing in the warm sun rays this morning. “How many words?” indeed. Like, Kim said, I like how the meaning changes throughout the poem.
Denise, Congratulations on the pending birth of your grandchild. It is the best thing ever! I didn’t think I’d have time to do this prompt, but alas, the weather not only gave me time, but it also became my muse.
Tornado Watch
No morning walk
Distant thunder
Spring is angry
Stomping her feet
Dog is snoring
No morning walk
Home, a refuge
Brew another
Cup of coffee
Steaming latte
No morning walk
Find solace here
Thirsty flowers
Welcome shower
Thunder rumbles
No morning walk
Margaret, those same storms you are having are coming our way. I watch the map of the weather that moves across areas of the country and always think of my writing friends and where they live and who is affected. I hope you all fare well, and I hope your little ducks from jump day seek safe shelter as these mighty storms pass. They are learning lessons of survival even as they paddle in their first days out in the world. Your traveling refrain No Morning Walk makes me think of the comforts of home and the shelter that gives us assurance all will be well and that this, too, shall pass…… 🙂
Denise, I love how the title, Tornado Watch, swirls and twirls in your four stanza with ‘No morning walk’ as the refrain. I love that Spring is angry and stomping her feet…what a wonderful way to describe a storm.
I enjoyed the fluidity of the poem. I could picture myself if this poem.
Margaret, I find sadness and peace in your words – missing your morning ritual yet finding comfort in the safety of your home. Thunder scares me so the thoughts of finding solace in that steaming latte bring me peace. Better safe than sorry kind of vibe today
I was delighted when I read your poem — it made me wonder if we were experiencing the same storm system just as different levels of intensity. I also enjoyed how without planning it we had similar imagery (sleeping dogs, coffee, and of course the rain) and yet we both handled it in different ways making for two very different poems about a rainy morning. Your title also changes things a lot since it indicates just how intense this storm is compared to the gentler rain storm I was living through this morning.
Thanks for sharing Margaret.
Thought about you while watching the news, Margaret. I absolutely love Spring is angry/Stomping her feet because it’s perfect personification – just praying she soon calms down to her sweeter, sunnier side over there.
Margaret, yes, you did have an inspirational muse there with the stormy weather. I can feel it in your poem. I love how weather can stop our hands and redirect us with a stomp. Nice personification of Spring. I hope she has let up for you today.
Denise, I always love the forms you bring! The 4 x 4 with its repeating line is one that I will add to my more frequent writing. Congratulations on the coming grandson and the sweet new life in your family. I’m glad you are back and hoping the cabin is coming along! Thank you for hosting us today and investing in us as writers.
Traveling Shoes
traveling shoes
adventuring
hippie spirit
wandering soul
journeyer’s heart
traveling shoes
climbing mountains
rapt in wonder
mailing postcards
taking photos
traveling shoes
soaking it in
living each day
finding my way
forging new paths
traveling shoes
I can envision those travel worn shoes bringing you/me to wonderful places. I think of my favorite pair of hiking boots that brought me as far away as the Swiss mountains and as close as the trails in my backyard. Oh what they have seen. You remind me to never take my shoes and comfortable footwear for granted – and that they make a wonderful topic for poetry. (Hmmmm….)
Kim, this makes me want to take an awesome adventure. “Traveling shoes” love this refrain and how you share the joy of traveling….”finding my way” “forging new paths” “journey’s heart” “wandering soul” “hippie spirit”…yes, all just pull on my desire to roam. Gorgeous poem!
I knew this form would come to life in your hands, Kim, Queen of Syllable Counts! I have loved traveling vicariously on your hippie-spirit, wandering soul, rapt in wonder, soaking-it-in adventures. I think about that new pair of shoes you bought for your visit to – Paris, I think? Traveling shoes works as a concrete image and also as a symbol for being prepared for life’s journeys. Perfect line for you to repeat. And every line flows into the next so perfectly.
Kim, what fun your “traveling shoes” refrain. It is a little bit of specificity that added to the big traveling ideas you have shared (forging new paths, finding my way, soaking it in, rapt in wonder) is just perfect. So lovely, and a perfect capstone of your Journeys theme of last month.
I love this, Kim! For some reason I started thinking of Eat, Pray, Love! I believe in my wildest dreams, I would do all of this and wear those shoes:
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Kim,
Your traveling shoes are not helping my case of spring fever! I want to put mine on and mail some postcards, but I’ll just have to wait seven more weeks. Your “hippie spirit” reminds me of outdoor music festivals and sleeping on couches. Phenomenal!
Denise, I agree that sometimes the challenge of constraints makes us more creative. I loved how evocative your lines were…I especially love “of toasty warmth.” There’s just something about that just-right warm feeling that “toasty” evokes–it speaks of warmth, and safety, and home. Ahh…
For my poem, I decided to play with a word (that just happens to be 4 syllables) that’s been flitting through my mind lately.
Vanishing Act
“Evanescence!”
the magician
cries, and his hat
ceases to be.
The intrigue of
evanescence
draws people in,
seeking to grasp
what can’t be held
in their hands, its
evanescence
the only truth.
The breath, taken.
The moment, gone.
The chance, squandered–
evanescence.
A lovely word begets a lovely poem. I like the way the concrete scene of a magician who makes his hat disappear dissolves into the disappearance of time itself. Lovely!
Ah, Vanishing Act. In the rabbit hold of yesterday’s prompt, I came to the Vanishing Act at the end of my scribing. There’s something about movement and flow to this performance that makes me think that life, and the human body, is an act of poetry, too. Your last stanza, Julie, is gorgeous. ‘The breath, taken. / The moment, done. / The chance, squandered – / evanescence.
Wow, Julie, I learned a new word today. I love how your poem starts out with the simple act of a vanishing hat, and ends with such big existential evanescence. “the chance, squandered” is really powerful and speaks to those moments of regret and missed opportunities. Your poem wants me to be bolder and better today.
Oh, I love this! Your poem and how you have taught me a new word, illustrating its essence with your carefully chosen details. I especially appreciate the lines “the only truth,” “The breath, taken,” and “The moment, gone.” And the title! What a great idea to focus a from on exploring a word/concept.
I woke up early today to write and I am glad I saw this poem about the day star dawning first thing. I just low how that line travels through the poem and I found myself using this 4×4 as a kind of early morning meditation to write and celebrate a new day. Thank you for bringing me this gift this morning Denise.
A Tuesday Morning in April
Rain kissed wind chime
twinkling darkness
writing ahead
of sunlight morn.
Sound awakens
rain kissed wind chime
does not disturb
a sleepy pup.
Coffee unbrewed
words pouring like
rain kissed wind chime
a gentle morn.
I breathe in deep
listen to learn
soft message of
rain kissed wind chime.
I promise I did not read yours before writing mine, but they echo each other. I love your repeated line “Rain kissed wind chime” Seems we are both welcoming the rain.
Oh, Erica, how you wove that refrain throughout is so beautiful. This is gorgeous:
and the “soft message of / rain kissed wind chime” — I’m so glad you stopped to listen to it this morning.
This poem was great you are a great writer.
This poem gives me a sense of peace and quiet. Sounds like a really nice morning! I love the “rain kissed wind chime” refrain and “listen to learn.”
Erica,
This is a soft beauty, just like your morning!
I love it!
Denise, I appreciate today’s form–sometimes constraints sparks creativity! My belly is growing, too, but I am way past baby-bearing. The number on the scale and my wardrobe woes sparked my poem today.
Growing Waistline
My pants–too tight
Too many sweets
Too much eating
Without thinking
I eat when stressed
My pants–too tight
I eat when happy
Emotions fed
The first step done
I am aware
My pants–too tight
Action needed
I know what works
Write it all down
(Inconsistent)…
My pants–too tight.
I refuse to buy bigger pants.
Hilarious! But also – I feel the frustration. Annually, I put on my “school” gut that I lose each summer, and complain to my husband, who responds, “Buy bigger pants.” So that last line is 100% relatable! I love when I can read a poem and realize, it’s not just me! Thank you!
Ughhh I’m to the point where I love baggy pants. Everything is tight. I love “I eat when stressed and happy – emotions fed” definitely.
Chris, so funny! Isn’t that the truth, the first step is to be aware. I love the conclusion line too–all the best to you as you fit into your pants again. I can so relate to these lines:
This poem is relatable to everyone. It is so true, especially even more because we lived through a pandemic. My weight fluctuated all year. Great job!
Alas, wardrobe and waistline woes… but also wonderful wit! You have me chuckling, as you often do. I love the admissions of eating when stressed, when happy – “emotions fed” – and knowing what works but being inconsistent. Your repeated line is priceless. And I don’t blame you for not buying bigger pants!
cmargocs (sorry I don’t know your name),
Oh so relatable! I chuckled on the “write it all down/(inconsistent)” because my sister is a Weight Watchers girl and she told me one week she just said screw the writing! LOL. But I am glad you found an outlet for your frustrations over your growing waistline.
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Denise, your inspiration filled me with joy. As a grandmother I understand, and feel your words:“the world awaits!” You captured that anticipation so perfectly.
Today I return to some childhood memories that I jotted down after Emily Yamasaki inspired us with core memories. My writing took a sideways turn that day so today I revisited a few recollections of growing up. Thank you for the inspiration and form!
Recollections
Dinner time bell
Nine plates waiting
Liver and peas
Birthday parties
Recollections
Taffy pulling
Buttercream sweet
Church traditions
Polishing shoes
Recollections
Oh Holy Night
Laundry flapping
Popcorn popping
Wealthy in love
Recollections
Christine I really enjoyed the contrast between a stanza about liver and peas immediately followed by the sweet treats and Birthday party. I feel like your poem really does capture the different memories of childhood and how those memories tend to blend together so easily. I think “recollections” was the perfect line to pick as your refrain.
Grandmother dust must floating this morning! You’ve recalled it all ~ this is buttercream sweet poem!
Christine, what a lovely series of recollections. I feel like I’m there for them, even in the scarcity of syllables. You have captured them. I so love “wealthy in love” — you could write a book about that one. Beautiful.
Christine, your words resonate with my own memories, each detail calls up something from specific from different times in my life. Your details are also distinct, speaking of a big family (“Nine plates waiting”). Each stanza seems to hold its own story, yet flow together to capture a glimpse of something bigger.
Wealthy in love and recollections, indeed – oh my, nine plates waiting?? I feel like that line alone is a poem waiting to be written!
I love this!! It’s the perfect form for recounting memories.
This is golden!
Denise, I can appreciate your observation that sometimes the challenge of constraint is welcome. Sometimes poems won’t fit in certain forms (like too-tight clothing; just can’t get it all in) and other times. form provides the exact pattern needed for pinning and trimming away. Your daystar dawning poem, in its spareness, captures the deep sense of awe, celebration, and expectation, literally, of a new grandchild on the way. In that stanza about the rising round womb…the world awaits, I feel a holy hush and gratitude too great for words; lI am standing right there watching the daystar rising in the east. Incredibly evocative and beautiful. Thank you for the invigorating challenge this morning.
Today I celebrate new life also…
Eggsultation
Exultation:
Finches return
to make a nest
atop the wreath
on my front door
Exultation:
grass artistry
made without hands.
Speckled blue eggs—
one, two, three, four.
Exultation:
tiny new life
incubating.
Morning birdsong
rises skyward.
Eggsultation.
I had the memory of birds nesting on top of our front door wreath as soon as you started this … and eggsultation? Magical play on how you started.
Kevin
What a joyful sight. I follow your bird arrivals each year in your writing. This pieces brings extra joy with your eggsultation!
Yay! for more eggs and incubation. I love the play with the word exultation.
Fran, I love the play on words of your title! I know you are thrilled about the finches’ return. Is the first egg that was alone for awhile okay? Miracles happen. A miracle is happening here. There is a Mary Oliver poem about the miracle that is happening in a place and the rest of the world is not privy to it. This is what your poem makes me think of today. Your own private miracle, right on your front door. And more importantly, you are noticing it and sharing it!
From what I am reading: a fertilized egg can be viable for as long as two weeks before incubation. Once incubation begins, it must be sustained for the baby bird to develop. A mother finch can save the father’s seminal fluid in her system for up to two weeks, allowing her to resume egg laying if she’s scared away from her nest. This fascinates me most of all: because mites in nests are dangerous to developing males, mothers will lay female eggs first, to reduce the length of mite exposure to males… is there ANY other word for this but AWE? So maybe Little Blue Egg, alone in the nest for five days, is a baby girl!
Oh, what a joyous spring poem. I love seeing those four speckled blue eggs in the artistic nest on your wreath. Finches are so precious. Eggsultation, to be sure!
In sixteen lines you’ve captured all the joy and possibility of spring. I love the glass artists made without hands and the morning song rising upward! Wonderful!
(playfully breaking the rules — the voice of this one reminded me of the Chicka Chicka Boom Boom alphabet picture book as I was writing it)
Four syllables
inside a poem
wander the screen;
singing alone
But maybe I’ll break
four syllables, five
beats per poetic line –
see if it’ll rhyme
if I stretch it a bit
and finger-counting, wish
four syllables, five, six;
rabbits like magic tricks
Now I notice one thing more
a way to break through the door
leave behind a few things more
four syllables, five six seven
(oops, now that’s eight — regards, Kevin)
Oh, I definitely hear the Chicka Chicka Boom Boom rhythm of this! Love the playfulness and rule breaking too – in fact, the more breaking, the more fun.
First rule of poems:
learn all the rules.
The second rule:
have fun breaking.
-This was SO fun Kevin.
LOVE LOVE LOVE!
Love the playfulness and the breaking of the rules to start us off! And yes, Chicka Chicka Boom Boom part 2!
Oh Kevin this made me chuckle. I love a poem that plays with its form and meter to create the meaning as well. This really did evoke the children’s book you were paying homage to — I could even picture the lines and syllables and words taking on a life of their own as they tried to escape. Well done!
Tuck this one into your book of picture book ideas. I love how you play with rules.
Kevin,
Great way to start the day! I have read that book a thousand times. There is always enough room to play with form and structure. I love the image of breaking “through the door” as the syllables force their way into the room. Fantastic!
Ah, Kevin— What a perfect solution to the restrictions of the the 4×4. Totally love your poem-play, and how effective it is. The rhythm of it reminds me of jazz, in that music which pushes the boundaries speaks to my need to hear and feel that creative elasticity. And seeing it on the page it takes on a towering effect, a sort of sound like an embouchure that releases air into the instrument tightly and plays with the note until it loosens into a full-on blow of a note exhausted. Creativity is an amazing trickster. Thank you… your poem was candy this morning. Susie
You know I appreciate any connection to music, Susie …
And the poet has been unleashed! He’s running free. He broke the locks and he’s running free out loose in the world. And he’s happy! 4,5,6,7……..8……
Woo hoo! Such counting and rhythm and rhyme fun this morning, Kevin! I love the way those four syllables in the first stanza just had to break out and start wandering! The seven/Kevin rhyme made me smile.
Kevin, I love “the look” or typography of your poem, how physically the poem just keeps growing (which, of course, makes sense because of the added syllables. Lol.). Very cool!
Like some strange plant …
So much fun! I just had to try a riff.