Day 5, February’s Open Write with David Duer
David Duer recently retired from teaching English at Cedar Rapids Washington High School, where he was the faculty advisor for the Washington Literary Press. His work has appeared in Ascent, Exquisite Corpse, English Journal, North American Review, Poetry, and others. His memoir-themed blog From Now On can be found at www.davidduerblog.com.
Inspiration
Danez Smith’s poem “Alternate Names for Black Boys” is powerful and disturbing. This is a poetic form commonly known as a list poem, any carefully crafted list, catalog, or inventory of items, people, places, ideas, images. It is an accessible and ubiquitous form, encompassing anything from shopping or to-do lists to listicles. In Smith’s poem, each line can be thought of as a metaphor for Black boys, and the poem as a whole offers certain motifs or themes. Smith chose to number his lines, perhaps to remind readers that 17 is how old Trayvon Martin was when he was murdered.
Process
One could go many directions with a list poem. As a way to address something on our minds these days, let’s write a poem entitled “Alternate Names for Students (or Teachers) During a Pandemic.”
Spend three to five minutes brainstorming all the adjectives you can think of to describe the feelings of your students or you and your colleagues. Then develop those adjectives into images or metaphors. Don’t worry about the order, although often the final item in the list is particularly strong, important, poignant, or funny. Yes, this could be a humorous poem too – Twain once said, “The secret source of humor is not joy but sorrow.” (Adapted from Sequoia Maner and Darlene Anita Scott’s Art During Times of Struggle: A Poetry for Black Lives Workshop.)
This prompt could also work as a class assignment in which each student contributes one line, to a shared Google Doc for example, resulting in a collaborative list poem.
Alternate Names for Students During a Pandemic (Multiple Choice)
A. In the still eye of a hurricane
B. Tied down, immobile, stretched out on a medieval rack
C. Fingertips exploring the walls of a cave
D. Squirrel … squirrel … squirrel
E. Red balloon tethered to a chair
Your Turn to Write & Respond
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. See the image for commenting with care. 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.
We
Grasp and hold.
We spin beyond control,
Whirring,
Out of cycle.
Round and round
On the mysterious
Merry-go-round.
Skin stretches taut.
Eyes blur open.
Hair shrieks on end.
We spin.
On the senseless,
Silent turntable
We spin.
There is no
Record.
We are the
Only sound,
A buzzing birring.
Damn, Yeats
And his widening gyre.
Things will surely
Fall apart.
The uncertain center, will it hold?
We hope beyond hope.
We
Grasp and hold.
Thanks to WB Yeats and his “The Second Coming” and to four students who volunteered metaphors for learning during a pandemic.
Thank you to all of our hosts, inspirers, commenters, writers! I’m late to this party, but still wanted to come for a quick take on the prompt.
Alternate Names for My Porch
Chickadee Saloon
Jogger Spy Perch
Tide chart
Pandemic Television
Social distancing savior (spring summer time only)
Lonely skating rink (currently)
Rickety Bob
I really enjoyed the prompts from everyone this month. This was probably the hardest 5 days of my last few months. It seems my schedule isn’t matching my energy. I’m just now finished with lesson plans for tomorrow and it’s an hour past my usual bedtime. I haven’t read anyone’s poems today and I know I will have to wait until tomorrow. I’ve never been this behind on commenting and it sucks. I am excited for time to read your brilliant poetry tomorrow and probably Friday too. Thank you, Allison, for your friends who shared and wrote with us this month, and for your dedication to nurturing our gifts.
Alternate Names for an Eldest Daughter
1. Family translator
2. Tech support
3. Referee
4. Perfectionist
5. Test subject
6. “Role model”
7. Designated Driver (who really needs a drink)
8. Quiet observer
9. Best friend
10. Dependable ally
CM,
I hope you share this w/ your daughter. It’s a lovely tribute. 1, 3, and 8 make me think your daughter is a peacemaker, too.
CM – these are truly wonderful! Each one tells a story about that unique family role – you made me laugh with 2, 5, and 7, and I saw your strong character in 9 and 10. So relatable, so lovely.
Wow, CM, I’m wondering if it’s you who is the eldest daughter or if it’s your own eldest daughter. Either way, that’s a tall order and a beautiful balance of traits to possess!
Alternate names for my students during a pandemic
Glowing coals I cannot touch
Eyes, only eyes
Petrified wood: personified
Jell-O, juggled by a hard-grinning clown
Tires spinning in a snowdrift
Fiberglass remnants on the skin
A baby’s first cry
The U-turn at the No U-turn sign
My lambs
(David, these were the adjectives I brainstormed before searching for the metaphors. I LOVED this prompt!)
Untouchable
Masked
Bored
Funny
Stuck
Restless
Hopeful
Recalcitrant
Young
Thanks for sharing your adjectives, Allison. I find that very helpful. Your images are spot on! In fact, I may share some of these when talking to parents about their child’s engagement. Hang in there!
Allison, I just started teaching a basic composition class since the shut down. I find it so difficult to keep the 6 ft. distance so the image you share of “Eyes, only eyes”, I could totally relate to. I love the U turn metaphor too, which sounds like a whole story in itself. The end of your poem was especially moving “My lambs!” Wow, I feel that. I love the insight and the personal love you share through these metaphors! Beautiful!
Allison, your alternate names are spot-on! Thanks for these! I find more and more “Petrified wood: personified” in my Zoom classes this semester, generally when asked to join (and interact) in a breakout room. Lol.
Allison – the jello clown — YES!! I love this, the coals you cannot touch and the tires – very relatable helpless feeling to really show how much you care. I can feel your care and understanding for your students in every line. Just awesome. Thank you for all the prompts and kind words!
Allison, this is pure truth!
I especially feel “glowing coals I cannot touch” because all day long on Zoom is this constant wanting and craving to connect spirit to spirit, eyes to eyes, skin to skin. How else do we do what we do? Wonderful poem to remind us someday of what we survived.
❤️Thank you again for this month’s treats! Every day was special even in my craziest of days.
Seventeen items for the average age of my students (I teach juniors and seniors). In this week of ice storm induced reflection, I realized we’re coming up on a year of being out of the classroom. Thus, this list.
Alternate Names for Whatever it is We’ve Been Doing for the Last Eleven Months
1. Virtually herding cats, uh, I mean students
2. Recreating the wheel
3. Challenging the bounds of our technological capabilities daily
4. Reimagining what a good day of teaching really is
5. Becoming exceptionally comfortable teaching in extremely comfortable leggings
6. Forgetting what it’s like to teach in a physical classroom
7. Trying to connect to people through a screen with bad audio
8. Perpetually hoping/wondering/panicking about how much longer this will last
9. Accumulating more home technology than we’ll ever need again
10. Learning that winging it really doesn’t work online
11. Hating and loving all the alone time simultaneously
12. Really, really, liking to have your own personal bathroom
13. Becoming comfortable looking at ourselves on cameras all day/every day
14. Discovering that you might actually like some of the new technology
15. Connecting with students in entirely unexpected ways
16. Having a commute of approximately twenty steps
17. Hoping that we’re still making a difference despite the naysayers
You had me hooked from the title “Alternate Names for Whatever it is We’ve Been Doing for the Last Eleven Months” I did really laugh out loud. I could relate, in my own way, to each item on your list. Thank you for this reflection today. It is wild to believe it’s almost been a year. Last year, around this time, a student asked me what I thought about “the virus”. I said “it’s a good reminder to wash my hands as often as possible.” Little did either of us know…
Nailed it! I just nodded and smiled at every single line of your poem, Cara. I love that you’ve captured the good things and bad things about remote teaching. I wonder which of these might stay with us moving forward. Love this!
Cara, There is so much truth in your list! And I love the italics in #10. Realizing this, of course, doesn’t stop me from testing it…on occasion. And I really do find myself appreciating and enjoying #15 (And, I’m not gonna lie: I love #16, too.)
I was hooked by your title – what HAVE we been doing for the past 11 months? “Hating and loving all the alone time simultaneously” and “Having a commute of approximately twenty steps” really hit home. There are days that I love working from home, cuddling in bed after work, and enjoying my space. There are also days I want to sit and cry because I miss going out in the world and seeing friends, coworkers, and my students. Thank you for a very relatable poem!
#5 – LOL – what a bitter pill zippers were when we came back to school!!
I love the truths you tell in each line – both the happiness and the challenge of this moment – the bathroom, the technology, and #8 – truly that daily mix is weighing on us all, but your light take lifts that up for us. Just a great poem!
Cara,
This is it! You’ve found every bit of our struggles and shared them perfectly!
This is my favorite because I was once the queen of winging it. LOL.
I put mine in a breakout room to work on some science activities and realized I had no idea how that would work. I guess that’s winging it. ?
Saying You Teach Virtually Without Saying You Teach Virtually
lip syncing without music
keys that are never found
coffee is still cold
gold mine chat box
vehicle of student thought
same clothes worn
two days in a row
a million meaningless doodles
staring into darkness—
headset hides bad hair day
don’t forget how to handwrite
thank you Child
for always being on
the other side.
This is lovely, Angie. I like how you adapted the prompt. I could see students writing their versions: “Saying I Learn Virtually Without Saying I Learn Virtually.”
“a million meaningless doodles” – it’s Covid Art
So so relatable. I really connected with “vehicle of student thought,” “don’t forget how to handwrite,” and “thank you Child / for always being on / the other side.’ Whatever would we do without the reliable children? 🙂
Good to see you, Angie! I think I read too quickly at first I thought you wrote, “some clothes worn”! I love the opening image of lip syncing without music. Gold mine chat box is too true. Fabulous!
Yes, Angie!!
That is my saving grace!
Pandemic First Anniversary Shopping List
*Salad fixins- Gotta stay healthy!
*White asparagus- Is it in season? What’s in season now anyway?
*Russet potatoes- Check butter, sour cream, and BACON
*Couple of nice Rib Eyes
*2 large lobster tails
*Heavy cream for chocolate mousse
*Tissues- For the tears already shed and those still to come
Hey, Mo — I’m on my way over! This is a perfect act of rebellion and grit. Just go for it! Hugs… those tissues…darn, those tissues. Susie
Mo, the food you describe is right up my alley! The title of your poem helps to show the importance of the special meal. The end is the reality I still don’t want to face and carries a punch. But I sure would like some lobster tail and chocolate mousse! Hope the anniversary is special!
Hi Mo!! You have effectively made me hungry and want all of these things, especially BACON! 🙂 Enjoy this depressing”anniversary” with yummy food!!!
Mo, I’m hoping that in the future when you’re drafting a shopping list, you’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind, oh yeah, a list poem. And those tears, they’re reminders that we’re still alive and caring and feeling, right?
Mo,
I’m coming w/ Susie. You’re gonna need mor ribeyes. I’ll bring the spuds. Costco has green asparagus. ? ❤️
Ymmmmy!!! I love the idea of a shopping list for the pandemic’s anniversary! Such a cool idea. Now I’m hungry! ?
When I read the prompt, I wasn’t sure where I’d go with it. I went into my writer’s notebook/journal/logbook and began to brainstorm. I realized my inspiration was right there all along! I love my journal and take it everywhere with me! I can see 18 of my completed writer’s notebooks from where I’m writing now, so 18 is a good number for my list!
Alternate Names for My Writer’s Notebook:
1. Basketball court, where I practice drills each day.
2. Travel partner (whether that’s to a new country or just a few steps to the table).
3. The last page is always my Goodreads “Read” and “To Be Read” shelf
4. Laziest spell cheker
5. Virgil, guiding me through the layers of myself.
6. Collection of stickers, spills, tears, and tears.
7. Not a mirror, yet the truest reflection of me.
8. Biggest critic of mediocre poetry.
9. Hoarder of secrets, rants, goals, and dreams.
10. Final resting place for (some) anxieties.
11. Eternal optimist, for each day 3 gratitudes I list.
12. Historical artifact.
13. Bound thought-holder.
14. I wouldn’t call it art.
15. 145-day tally-tracker (who knew I could floss that many days in a row?)
16. Possibility-launcher.
17. Co-Teacher.
18. One episode in the series of my life.
Rachelle, this is FABULOUS! You were a writers-notebook role model for me. I’m not as faithful as you are, but I’m a lot more faithful than I was before you inspired me! I will save this poem and share it with writers when I introduce writing journals! I’m having trouble picking favorite lines…there are so many!
5 & 10 are gems!
Number 1 was inspired by an analogy I heard from you first! 🙂 I hope this reaches some of your students!! There’s so much more I left out now that I’m coming back to it. Dr. Davis has always been my inspiration on writer’s notebooks!
Rachelle, I love the revelations you share through this list. Bless all journals, and the very special place they provide to rant….far better sometimes than sharing with someone who will not understand the absolute fact that you’re simply ranting. My favorite part is line 6 & 7
.
Thanks for sharing this heart-warming poem!
I’m glad you could connect with it in whichever which way 🙂 Thank you for your kind words!
This is great, Rachelle. First, the writer journals. You’re right that they can be an amazing resource. I include in mine lots of quotes of stuff I’m reading. I still have five travel journals from my twenties, which I’ve been mining as I write memoir pieces from those days. Second, I love the metaphorical power of these lines – for me, #5 is the most surprising, stunning line.
I’m so glad you could connect with it. Diving through my journals is both cringe-worthy and awe-inspiring. I can picture the time/place/mindset/context of each entry so easily. Thank you for the kind words!
Rachelle–this is lovely and ruminative. I am jealous that you are a devoted journaler/notebook keeper. I have tried over the years but it doesn’t seem to stick. Perhaps this will inspire me to try again? 🙂 #7, “Not a mirror, yet the truest reflection of me” really spoke to me. It is what we talked about poetry being for us. And #5, the Inferno devotee in me trilled a little in joy. Such an insightful list of notebook love.
Rachelle, you have inspired me here. I have done better with my writer’s notebook during the pandemic (after a long dry spell), but you have inspired me to do even better. I love the specificity, for you have given me so many new ideas–2, 3, 11, 15. Thanks! I like how each of your volumes is “one episode in the series of my life.” That does give possibility, self-love and forgiveness as you go through each episode.
Rachelle,
The Aeneid is my favorite epic, so #5 is my favorite item in your list. It’s also an apt identifier for a writer’s notebook. I might need to create my own notebook list in my writer’s notebook. Love it.
Sorry gang, it has been the kind of day in need of silliness. Please indulge me…
Alternate Names for my Two Dachshunds:
Percy McBarksville and Vet’s Vacation Cottage
Rick and Elsa at the Plane
Kid Creole and Sister McPherson
Alpha and Omega
Lord and Lady Wienerton
Herky and Cy
Maalox and Pepto
Zuko Von Fraushwitz and Gretta Cystbedraggin
Spinster Best and Mr. Wurst
Barky Bartakamooose and Gretta Growler
Hoarder of Spent Tennis Balls and Licker of Unmentionable Anatomy Regions
Sir Gawain and Guinevere
Doug Ahole and Barry Toyz
Boney and Clyde
Heart and Soul…
I love this silliness! Especially this name: “Hoarder of Spent Tennis Balls and Licker of Unmentionable Anatomy Regions.” Made my day.
How to choose!! Boney and Clyde, or Hoarder and Licker??!! This prompt was made for silliness—something we are in sore need of lately. And this is perfection!
This is a hoot! Or should I say a howl?! Spinster Best and Mr. Wurst! Doug Ahole and Barry Toyz! I needed this tonight!
Rex, your extra special sense of humor is so evident here. Loved “Boney and Clyde”. Your end though is truly priceless!
Rex, I like how these take us all over the place. Puns, Arthurian, Plain Goofy, Cinematic… Perfect closing line (always the hardest part, especially for this poetic form).
Rex,
I feel the pain of those vet bills. We have a Kerry terrier w/ a metal plate in one paw. Could have bought a good used car for the cost of that mishap. I had fun imagining the antics of the barking kings as I read your list. Hope tomorrow is better.
Rex, this is so much fun! I chuckled on Sister McPherson because that’s my mom’s maiden name. Then of course, Maalox and Pepto should be my middle names! LOL I love it! So happy I got a chance to read the fun stuff today!
Alternate Names for Love
First Born Child ~
The daughter who is 22 years old now and swears you two look nothing alike
Second Born Child ~
The son who is 13 years old and whose voice is too deep for my heart to handle
Fur-baby ~
The puppy who follows me everywhere and who may have helped you avoid a mental breakdown
Husband ~
The man who makes sure your every need is met and most of your wants, too
Scholars ~
The students I have had the honor and privilege to teach, to know
Books ~
The getting swept up in the pages of a story, poem, mystery, drama
My Notebook ~
The writing, scribing, describing, explaining, expressing one’s own thoughts and ideas
I love these alternate names. I don’t have children, but I could feel the love and care coming from your names for your children!
Donnetta, I think you have a lovely poem here. I love the headings and how love looks and feels different in all these scenarios. I especially resonated with your last stanza regarding my notebook–I dedicated my whole poem to it. Thank you for this thoughtful reflection.
Donnetta, my heart is warmed by the beautiful definitions here for the ones and things you love. Absolutely gorgeous poem!
Donnetta, I like how your listmaking here becomes a personal exploration of the aesthetics of being human. I might try this, expanding the scope, as Whitman did – the young couple with the one-year-old three houses down – all that inspires us. The one-line descriptions of your children are so rich. I know there is much more to them than that, but I do feel as if I know them well.
Donnetta–your Second Born Child, “The son who is 13 years old and whose voice is too deep for my heart to handle” really hit me. I have two sons, 15 and 18, and dang it, but they both have extremely deep “radio voices” (that’s what their teachers tell them) and they are both triumphantly taller than me now (not that that’s all that hard). I also completely adore your tribute to your furbaby–their unconditional love really is medicinal.
Love, love, love this poem, Donnetta! It’s a much needed reminder of all the big and little loves in our lives. Sometimes we just need to write them down to remember how blessed we are. Thank you, my heart is warmer.
Alternate Names for Cell Phones
Addiction machines
Weapons- audio, visual, physical
Joyful gadgets (for delivering fantastic news)
Love spreaders
Spy-ers
BS Artists
Promise-ers
Teachers
Connection keepers
Essential workers
Seana,
This is very clever. I have a feeling this list will stay w/ me, and I’ll be trying to add to it.
You have chosen some interesting alternative names for cell phones. I think my favorites are “Connection keepers and Essential workers” I will say cell phones can do so much more than I ever expected and I’m sure they will continue to advance.
Seana — like Glenda and Donetta noted, I too will be thinking about how I can personally add to this list when I use my phone for certain functions that are hard to note until you’re in the moment! I love that you ended with “essential workers”. I had never thought of it like that before! Thank you!
Seana — You captured the reality of our gizmos for sure! I laughed at the BS artists…way too true! And “addiction”… dang, again, way too true. Fun poem! Susie
David, thank you so much for this wonderful prompt. I thought of several subjects to write about today, and pondered life which led me to thinking about Thornton Wilder’s Our Town,…. isn’t it funny how the mind travels; so I decided to write about it as it is one of my favorite plays. I also thought it might be fun for students to write metaphors to show their understanding of literature, although this list is more of a plot summary than metaphor. Loved the line from your poem “Squirrel, Squirrel, Squirrel” followed by the metaphor at the end—heartbreaking.
Our Town
Life begins with a rooster’s crow
Children rise to their mothers calls
Cooking, cleaning, ironing with no complaint—
Math problems solved on stepladders
Love blooms
Then weans away in a somber grave
An epitaph of musical notes
Life too beautiful to be realized
Barb Edler
February 17, 2021
Barb — The tone here does, indeed, bring Our Town to mind… sort of a calm survey of the expected, and then it turns. The love that “weans away in a somber grave” brings a sadness…like a beautiful note that fills and then drains into something gone. This is a touching poem. Feeling for you right now, as there is a weight here. Hugs, Susie
Beautiful, Barb. This is one of my favorite plays, too.
“Saints and poets maybe…they do some.”
I love how you’ve distilled the play to its essence.
I loved this prompt and the many directions our poet community has gone with it. I need to go write my poem now…
Thank you, Barb. I recently read a piece in the NY Times (1/6/21) you might like: “More Than the Girl Next Door: 8 Actors on Emily in ‘Our Town'”
David, sounds great! I’ll look for it! Thanks!
One of my favorite plays. I directed it when I taught HS theater, and it touched each participant deeply.
Is That Why I’m to Be? Is That What They Want from Me?
Parentis en locus: expected by parents; forbidden by law
Nurse practitioner: expected by parents; forbidden by law
Circus clown: enjoyed by students; frowned on by administrators
Referee: desired by administators; scorned by students
Show-ers: demonstrated by teachers; questioned by parents
Teller: accepted by students; preferred by parents
Coach: preferred by teachers; accepted by students
Caretaker: accepted by teachers; expected by law and administrators
Seer doer enjoyed by teachers; appreciated be parents and students, administrators and the law.
Anna, what an interesting perspective you’ve shown. I keep thinking of the circus clown and how teachers often do something out of the norm to capture their students interests, but not everyone is happy and heck it might not be correctly aligned with the standards. The repetition and parallel structure add another rich layer to peel back and examine. Very thought-provoking poem. Thank you!
Anna,
This is wonderful! You sure have immense insight into the many demands on teachers and how the different stakeholders view them.
Bingo!! All the roles, all the feels. So much is expected; so little is understood. Teachers are paddling frantically under the surface to meet all those roles. Fortunately (or unfortunately) most people only see the end result, and that in small bits. Your contrasts are strong, your understanding is deep.
In a no poetic setting, I would explain “seer” as a professional educator who sees each student as a individuals and a “doer” who does what s/he can do to advance the learning of each students in his/her care. To me, an effective educator is one who has the courage to focus on progress and not worry about grades, even if that means clowning around some days to inspire learning! 🙂
Thanks, David Duer for giving an prompt that let us clown around with words writing poems and release the tension of the expectations on us as educators!
Alternative Names for Vacation Plans
1. Glamping in the dining room
2. Adult finger painting class
3. Wine tasting for Franzia enthusiasts
4. How long has that half-a-banana been sitting on the counter?
5. Staycation in the bedroom
6. Singalong around the Zoom fire
7. Beer tasting for people who also drink beer when not vacationing
8. Did anyone else want to eat that half-a-banana?
9. Air BNB in the bathroom
10. Dancing for eccentric billionaires
11. Whiskey tasting: everyone’s invited!
12. Who ate my banana?
Way to weave that banana (and beer) into the mix.
Kevin
Alex,
LOL! This is fabulous. I roll my eyes at the virtual travel. It’s not the same. It’s like that banana—rotten.
LMAO #3. And #7 is a standard evening event here. Sometimes #11. The pandemic has certainly encouraged a new way of seeing the mundane.
Alex — This is a total giggle, the banana especially…. I was guilty! Yesterday…an errant half of banana…oh dear. I just want to do each of these crazy Covid vacays! LOLOLOL! Thanks! Susie
Alex, what a delightful and humorous poem. I love the banana reference, especially the last line! “Singalong around the Zoom fire”…..indeed! I am right in with number 11! Awesome! Loved it!
The banana. The banana. The banana… LOVE the banana!!!
I love this idea – staycationing FTW! I especially love “singalong around the Zoom fire” 🙂
COFFEE
I: Coffee Yesterday
A Zoom cousin
calls anything in a mug
coffee, it’s just coffee;
yeah, right,
it’s that added jolt of Jack
or is it the Frangelica
that she calls tea?
(tee-hee)
II: Coffee in ‘63
At Mrs. Cordelair’s
on Saturday mornings,
her aluminum percolator
crusted, nearly rusted
to the electric stove coil
reheated Wednesday’s sludge,
and we sat to sip from bone china
before I cleaned the silver
in her hutch;
I detoured to the bathroom,
coal-black-high-test powered
in a caffeinated purge,
my skinny gurgling body,
drilled to be polite,
all my words I knew to stifle,
never refuse a sweet old lady
who sorely missed her spouse
and paid me five bucks on weekends
to let me clean her house,
though coffee coursed
like a scattershot rifle
through my virgin vessels —
really bad coffee,
well, a mere trifle.
III: Coffee in ‘73
When I started teaching,
I discovered jitter juice,
rocket fuel,
that legal drug
that jolted me
into first hour
at 7:15
with a class
of juuuuniors
who vanted to drink my bluud.
IV: Coffee Last Year
My nieces scolded
before the scourge,
when we wallowed away our mornings,
I’ve sullied the name of coffee
with my sorry decaf ways,
“that’s sad brown water, Aunt Sooze,”
they’re sure I’ve gone sideways.
V: Coffee Today
Coffee’s been a lot things,
that roasted magic bean,
my cuppa confidence in a mug,
now distilled
to a routine
at the countertop,
a comfort
that I awoke again,
always good till my last
drop
of poems
scratched in pen.
by Susie Morice©
This time jump is great reading and perfect writing strategy … and how it all ends up today (although, once again, by the time it is read, it’s time gone past)
Kevin
Susie,
As a fellow lover of Joe, I found this poem clever and mesmerizing. The dates centered me in history. I remember the old percolators, the early morning teaching (7:00 a.m. class for me), the way coffee embodies stories. Magic, comfort, confidence—all in a fragile cup. Love it.
Susie, reading this poem is better than drinking coffee, and I do love coffee! So many puns and fun lines. From “my cuppa confidence in a mug,” to “that’s sad brown water, Aunt Sooze,”
they’re sure I’ve gone sideways.” I can just hear them! I love how you show a topic that almost everyone can access and create an extra special journey with it! My absolutely favorite part was
I bet they did, especially at 7:15 am…..how is that even legal? I’m still smiling. Thanks you so much for that!
Susie—I love this history of your life through coffee. (I know that percolated!!). I love the “last drop of poems scratched in pen.” I need to think about how to fit that into my conversation!
Susie, this made me smile throughout! I love the touchstone of coffee through the years of your life all the way to the now of your “poems / scratched in pen.” The alternate names are great, too: : “jitter juice,” “sad brown water,” and “cuppa confidence in a mug.” So good!
Susie, this verse that starts
When I started teaching,
I discovered jitter juice,
rocket fuel,
that legal drug
that jolted me
into first hour
…..and ends with jittery vampire juniors is just my favorite! I love the Roman numerals and the way you broke your stanzas. I gave up caffeine about five years ago, but never coffee – just made the switch to decaf because it truly is the jolt into the day whether it has a true jolt or not. Love this!
Alternate Names for Grief
all is well and then it isn’t
needing to be alone when with others
needing others when alone
enormous weight of empty
sudden onset of vivid memories
becoming comfortable with cold comfort
full stop in the midst of busy
elusive and resounding last words
realizing no one sees the holes throughout your body
solace of birds, tea, quiet
making one’s way through wilderness
lost in the middle of the night, without map or stars to guide
seeking company of bare winter trees
tendency to be two places at once
a time to be gentle with oneself
Gosh, Maureen, the voice of melancholy here is so strong, so replete with grief. The push and pull of grief that is not mended with nor without others (those first couple lines are so honest). The “full stop in the midst of busy” is one of those things that seems like a loud slam and yet no one hears it but you… I sure get that… it stops you cold. Words like “lost” and “night” and “holes” and “wilderness” and the “weight of empty”… these are so vivid, and terribly raw. I’m reaching out a hand and receiving some of this sorrow to help lighten that weight — I wish it were that easy. Hugs to you. Susie
I am stuck by the insight of this line: “realizing no one sees the holes throughout your body” and how true it is, and said just right, too. Your ending line felt just right.
Kevin
Maureen,
I ba spent time today visiting w/ a grieving friend. Your poem speaks to her suffering:
My friend is tired, always tired. This is grief, palatable exhaustion.Haunting, beautiful poem. Thank you.
Maureen,
I appreciate “the enormous weight of empty” but find it hard to like in a conventional sense, as you do such a good job of capturing grief. Thank you for sharing this articulation.
Oh, Maureen. This touches my soul. I have a couple of friends who are in the midst of great loss. May I share this with them? Your words may be a comfort to them…
Certainly, Gayle, please share. As I started to write about the pandemic/teaching, all I could think about was all the grief we are all experiencing, such a time of grief…and lonely within the experience, yes?
Maureen, yes, you’ve captured grief so well. The metaphors are tender and beautiful. Loved, “full stop in the midst of busy”….how well I understand this line and the “solace of birds” resonates for me. Tears. Hugs to you, Maureen. Thanks for sharing this tender, loving poem that shows grief so keenly!
Thank you for writing such a meaningful poem, Maureen. It’s hard to choose a line that moves me most, they all do. I especially admire “enormous weight of empty”. “Needing to be alone when with others” is interesting to me. I feel this most time I’m with other people.
Such a touching poem.
really struck me. So true. So hard. Thank you for the solemn expression so well done.
Alternate Names for Grandmother During a Winter Storm
Number 1 Worrier
Snow molder with baking soda and hair conditioner.
Biscuit baker
Tear and glue paper collage director
Bath time bubble blower
Cuddle up story reader
Song Singer: Big Fat Spider in a big bass voice
Gingerbread cookie cutter
Favorite Mac-a-cheese microwaver
Hug and Kiss and Make it all Better better
How do I not know about snow molding with baking soda and hair conditioner?! Oh my, I must learn! This is a fabulous list, so so so fun!
Margaret,
I’ve never heard of making snow this way. It’s funny how geography necessitates invention. I love all these images of you showing love to your grandchildren.
Lucky grandma. Lucky grandchild. Lucky us to read this lively and loving poem.
Margaret, oh, I so love the warmth of this poem. “Cuddle up story reader” is absolutely the best. I want to wrap myself up in this poem! Beautiful!
Allison, Rachelle, David and Rex— thank you for challenging and inspiring prompts this week. I had to dig deep to write my poems. I feel exhilarated and exhausted! I stopped at 17 on my list only because today is the 17th.
Alternate Names for a Retired Teacher During a Pandemic
By Nancy White
1. Ruthless Declutterer
2. Champion of Isolation
3. Insatiable Learner
4. Identity Crisis Manager
5. Skin-shedding Chameleon
6. Daily Nap Coordinator
7. Mid-Day Wine Taster
8. Word Puzzle Monster
9. Finder of Surprises
10. Virtual Traveler
11. Charter Member of The Family Bubble
12. Mender of the Amputee Dolls
13. Den Mother of the Rescued Mixed Breeds
14. Backbone of the Broken
15. Keeper of All Things Traditional
16. Cog in the Wheel of Forward Progress
17. Juggler of the Mundane
Nancy,
Oh how I love this! I am now eligible for retirement and can’t decide how much longer to go. Your list—clever and witty—makes the days sound mighty appealing! I love so many that I’m not sure which one to proclaim as my favorite but I’m going to go with:
“Backbone of the Broken.”
What an imaginative list. I love Backbone of the Broken and Juggler of the Mundane. You seem to have no trouble keeping busy and useful in retirement.
I, too, am a retired teacher during the pandemic, and I love your list!! “Daily Nap Coordinator” is high on mine, and I absolutely love “Finder of Surprises”
Nancy — Almost every single one of these resonated with my own experiences this year. You captured the weirdness of it all. Yet, look at that list of 17….each one clear in its identity… I love how spot-on this is. I chuckled at #7. I felt a weight in #14 (beautiful phrasing). I love the hope of “forward progress,” one that some days I just can’t get my mind wrapped around. Cool list! Susie
I’m loving the juggler of the mundane and the backbone of the broken…There should be a crest for the Charter Member of the Family Bubble.
Nancy, I love how you so gracefully capture the life of a retiree especially during a pandemic! I had to laugh at “Juggler of the Mundane”, but even during retirement learning is an insatiable act. Perhaps to sustain us during the hours of isolation. Reading your poem was like reading a page from my own book. So incredibly accurate! Thanks for capturing this experience so well!
Thanks, Nancy. As a recently retired, I really connected with this. The lines that jumped out and stuck to me where those that made me say, “I want to know more about this.” #5, 12, 17, 14
I love the alliteration and assonance of the last of those.
If I were to add a line, it’d be “Defender of Educators” (because our Republican-led legislative houses seem to be intent on undercutting, and defunding,] public education).
Teaching Art
The Scream(ers) Skrik into the void
Thinkers who bow & bend like
Broken, one-armed Davids, anxious
Nighthawks alone on distanced stools,
Trapped behind Yellow Wallpaper screens
Grasping their heads, Anxiety embodied,
Sketches of their former selves;
In this Blue Period they are
Their own Winged Victory.
—Glenda Funk
*Skrik is the Norwegian word for screech.
Love this: “In this Blue Period they are
Their own Winged Victory.”
I actually had a chill down my neck at “anxious
Nighthawks alone on distanced stools,
Trapped behind Yellow Wallpaper screens” –
this is such an accurate and vivid description of all of us on screens these days…alone, together. Ugh. Definitely a Blue Period.
Thank you, Glenda!!
Glenda – So many of these images are stop-in-your-tracks visual moments. I start with that hands on head Screamer… uh-oh, I’m in for a visual scare and can hear Skrik… egads. Then to The Pensive thinker bowed and bent…the tone brings on the “Anxiety (capitalized) and the blue is as heavy as boiled wool. These are killa images! You had a hey-day… or is that hay-day… with this poem. I love it! Thank you! Susie
Wow … the references to the art is perfect for the poem.
Kevin
So much here. I am still tense even after I finished your last words!! And “skrik” what a wonderfully, loudly anxious word!! You have caught my mood in MWilma McCallister’s high school art class perfectly…
Glenda, the allusions in this poem are rich and easily accessible. I can see these artists, their work, and feel the mood all at once. I was especially moved by “Trapped behind Yellow Wallpaper screens”. I so admire the way you’ve capture color and movement with your choice of words. Love the triumphant tone at the end. Your poem is another artistic work of genius!
David, thank you for this challenging prompt. I love the idea of the collaborative poem written as a multiple choice question. I think that would lead to some great discussions.
I didn’t decide to write about the students and teachers. Instead I wrote about my growing piles, now that I’m home so much and teaching from home. I’ve never considered myself a hoarder, but my piles are dangerously growing around here!!
Alternate Names for My Piles
Mightier than Mount Massive
Everything Under the Sun
Paper Snow Drift
Fly Me to the Moon Pile-it
Grim Reaper Lights a Match
Megaphone of Distress
Kafkaesque Quivering Castle
Used to Be the Dining Room Table
On Top and Now Underneath
Just Throw Me Away Already
Denise,
I know the feeling with the piles and just how static they feel not moving them from home to school and such. Love the ways you make all these lines Proper nouns with the capital letters, naming the piles and giving them voice “Just Throw Me Away Already” – right? Love it.
Sarah
We have the same piles!!! Love the specificity. I think I have four of the “Just Throw Me Away Already” variety. Made me laugh, my friend!!
Love this, Denise. I know the feeling of being buried under the massive piles of Things to Do. I love the humor of these titles and especially your last line! ?
So funny! I love the witty names.
I love the sound of “ Kafkaesque Quivering Castle”
And the wit of “On Top and Now Underneath”
This made me smile! “Used to be the dining room table” and “Just throw me away already” A clever list!
It is frightening how easily stuff accumulates, especially those piles of paper!! There was something about the ritual of a daily closing up of the classroom that kept this all more in check. Here we are, day in, day out, ugh! I laughed at “Used to Be the Dining Room Table” – so true!!
Denise — You made me laugh out loud… “just throw me away already! Indeed…been there…oops, AM there. I just need some gasoline and match! Love this. Thank you…I’m not alone…how comforting. 🙂 Susie
OMG and we are BOTH pilers! I can absolutely identify with this – and not just because of working from home, sadly. I’ve been a piler all my life. Love these two in sequence “Used to Be the Dining Room Table /
On Top and Now Underneath.” I have found that after a year, most of what I was saving CAN just be ditched. Apparently, it just needs time to age.
Denise,
I was taught the messy desk/table is a sign of genius. I think the “on top and now underneath” captures the pile progression well as time goes.
Thanks, Denise. This is great. You keep this list fresh because each line shifts grammatically and syntactically. I think that’s really smart. Like Danez’s poem, this one leaps metaphorically too.
BTW, I keep one of my piles handy so I can set my laptop atop it for Zoom meeting.
Interview with a Teacher During a Pandemic
Attitude:
With all this shit, there must be a pony in here somewhere.
Perspective:
“How deep is the mud?”, asked the elephant.
“Depends on who you ask.”, replied the meerkat.
Confidence:
Pre-pandemic – me on the 405 freeway during rush hour – Mario Andretti;
me now on the 405 freeway during rush hour,
‘I’ll take all side roads”.
Self-Soothing:
At bed, rubbing my legs together like a cricket,
now it might start a brush fire.
Face-timing a friend these days:
No. Just no.
Parent/Teacher Conferences:
No. Just no.
Sense of humor:
Dark – usually involves alcohol.
Students:
Too much personal information.
Depression and Anxiety:
Refer to ‘Perspective’ above.
How dark is your closet?
Covid Vaccinations:
Not soon enough
Next Year:
Only if the world doesn’t end.
Oh. My. Goodness. Judi!
This line is everything:
I am hysterical!
Sarah
Nailed it!! I am looking for my pony as we speak!! Love the cynicism, the realism, and the sense of humor requiring alcohol… love all of this!
What a perfect list to describe (with a tad bit of humor) this crazy pandemic teaching.
This is fantastic. Truly insightful about teaching during the pandemic. “How dark is your closet?” This is such a tough time. Newly retired, this painful school year, I have been struck by
“Face-timing a friend these days:
No. Just no.” –
my teacher friends are so DONE with being on screens. Thanks for this!
It seems like this is my most not-uplifting bunch of poems this month! And yet, the sun is shining, the countdown to summer is officially on, and my fridge is well stocked after a grocery pickup today. I am fortunate and grateful. Still, as poets, we are responsible to witness and record, thus my take on the prompt. This is a found poem of labels culled from multiple news stories. Since I teach adults, these all directly apply to students I know; for every label, I can recall and name and see a face. And 21 for 2021.
Alternative Names for College Students in This Pandemic
1. front-line workers
2. unemployed
3. uninsured
4. at risk of falling into extreme poverty
5. undernourished people
6. informal economy workers
7. particularly vulnerable
8. predatory loan victims
9. low-wage service workers
10. dying disproportionately
11. black Americans
12. brown Americans
13. white Americans
14. rainy day defunded
15. cohorts of the poor
16. renter households
17. essential workers
18. disproportionately impacted
19. struggling to pay rent
20. adults with children
21. evicted
Oh, wow, Denise. This is so powerful. You chose a beautiful topic to honor and remind us of these adults who are struggling. Like you, I’m also fortunate and grateful, but it is not an easy time, especially when you are experience injustice, poverty, all kinds of stressful situations, mourning the loss of loved ones, etc., etc. Your giving witness and recording all these individuals (and multiple of some categories, I’m sure) is valuable work. Thank you for your writing today.
Denise,
So appreciate the way you are witnessing our world in verse and offering this artifact for us and others to notice, process, and see. I am thinking about the Town Hall last night and Biden’s response about student loans and all that our students are dealing with. In rural Oklahoma, my students are dealing with broken water pipes, no electricity, homeschooling their siblings, taking care of parents and…That last line “evicted” is so powerful, haunting.
Sarah
Oh man, Denise — this is, indeed, the archive that says so much. Never lose this! It feels like 2020-2021 wrapped in 21 lines. I’m moved by the reality that each line is a face for you… this pandemic has been a horror for me, and I sit here alive and breathing fine…but nothing inside me doesn’t cringe at the reality of every line. Whoof. Powerful! Thank you for perspective we must not forget. Susie
Denise—wow. Just wow. This is such a sad, powerful, truth-filled list. The brevity takes it up a whole different level. And # 21–whoosh!
David,
I love this challenge and look forward to doing it with my students. What a powerful, powerful poem “Alternate Names for Black Boys” is.
Your poem captures so much in so few lines/images. I want to say which one I especially love, but with each read, it changes. Your metaphors for the things these kids are right now are spot on.
I do want to do this assignment being truer to your prompt at some point, but today Ash Wednesday is on my mind, so I went in that direction. I don’t have much figurative to it, but it captures the essence of Lent in my mind.
Forty Days to Embrace
Lent . . . a pressing of the re-set button, a spring cleaning of the soul.
Ashes . . . the remnants of old palms reminding us of where we are from and headed.
Almsgiving . . . setting aside one’s own wants for another’s needs.
Prayer . . . an intimate conversation with your most trusted friend.
Penitence . . . realizing we do wrong even when the world says it’s right.
Self-denial . . . doing without what we likely should be doing without anyway.
Good Friday . . . the darkest day in our faith when he feels the nails of our sins.
Easter . . . the light rises giving us hope and eternal life.
Forty days of less leading to more.
~Susan Ahlbrand
17 February 2021
Oh, my, Susan. With all this going on, I had forgotten Mardi Gras and lent and Easter. We have seas of snow here in Oklahoma that I think it will be 40 days until we see the grass again.
The ellipses here seem to offer the reader space to ponder your experience of Ash Wednesday and what Lent means to you. I appreciate inviting us to witness this part of your being.
Sarah
Ash Wednesday is here and it is always a perspective shifter, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Thanks for reminding me to look inward and at the same time reach out to others. I especially like
because so often I forget that it takes two to converse.
Thanks so much Susan, there is so much poetry potential to the time associated with Lent. I appreciate your reminder. I am hoping to get some meaningful exploration during this time.
Susan, that’s great to hear. I was hoping that some of us might want to give it a go with our kids. It worked well with the HS students in the zoom session I sat in on. And of course, it’s great to respond to this prompt in a way that work for you, in the moment. Ah, that grey smudge I’d wear on my forehead all day. I love thinking of Lent as “spring clearning for the soul.”
Thank you Allison, David, Rex, and Rachelle for these challenging (and fun) prompts this month! I’ve enjoyed and appreciated your guidance this go ’round (from your mentor texts to your various comments). My attempt at this prompt is, I guess, akin to the “alternate name” list poem; I was thinking about ways that I’ve tried to elicit student engagement in literature, and this piece came out of that idea.
________________________________
What do you notice?
What do you note?
What do you wonder?
What are the four corner’s
of the text saying to
you?
What is being left
unsaid?
Is this a door or a
window or a mirror
or something else?
I invite you to explore
this passage, move
about inside of it
or let it wash over you,
filling your pores.
Become one with
this text.
You are now
this text,
have, perhaps, always
been this text,
or it might be something
new, completely
and utterly new, some
strange and beautiful
bird song trilling
outside the window
of your heart and mind.
How do you feel?
What do you want to
talk about
or not talk about
(Uh, Mr. M?)
Yes?
(Are you still
talking about
The Pear Deck
code?)
Yes. Yes,
I am.
Lovely,
isn’t it?
Scott! I just finished listening to and beginning the archiving of your oral history interview. What a joy and honor it was to meet you in this way. When these are all available, you and others will be able to reciprocate. Until then, thank you for this poem and the Pear Deck code insight. Love the line breaks and punctuation to visually and linguistically mark these shifts, questions, side notes, and humor! We have to find the humor. “Lovely,/isn’t it?”
You make me laugh and nod in agreement again! All of the gyrations we go through to invoke and involve and inspire…and then Uh, Mr. M? Bwahahaha
Again, Scott, this just really seems like a piece that ought to go into EJ — send it to NCTE, dude! The questioning and prompting comments are excellent…so just what you hope will engage a thinker… and then the reality of where the kid is (“are you still talking about… ” ha! Oh man.) I somehow know that your teaching must be amazing.
I thought about your poem of yesterday when I read today’s prompt… your list of jargon terms…the litany of baloney that you’ve endured…that could just as easily been today’s poem as well.
Fun…good stuff, Scott! Your students are darned lucky. Thank you. Susie
Scott,
Reading your poem my mind traced to my speech and debate days. There’s an old textbook called “Oral Interpretation: The Meeting of Self and Literature.” I’ve always loved that title and the idea of embodying a text. This is what I learned and taught through both competitive speech and drama in the days when acting was taught primarily through the Stanislavsky method. Things have changed since then.
Scott, I love your verve. It’s like you are leading them in a meditation and someone breaks wind…Today with the new schedules for us it was like, “What time does the period end?”
Damn, Scott. Yep, this is one for the books. Beautiful language mixed with humor. I am in awe of this:
“You are now
this text,
have, perhaps, always
been this text,”
HAHAHA. Sorry to laugh but I can’t help it, knowing the pear deck code. How beautiful the words are plus the meaning beyond this poem is so, so great. Love it 🙂
Thanks, Scott. And thanks for this poem. It captures so well all the ways that teachers talk about texts in order to encourage students to dive in and swim around in them on their own. I guess I’m thinking scuba now. It’s the poem that takes me there – yes, I’m swimming around in the poem and finding buried stuff you didn’t know was there 🙂 When you have your final draft of this piece, please print it in a stylish 14- or 16-point font and post it on a wall of your classroom.
Alternate Names for a Home Caregiver
Braying Donkey
Deflated Balloon
Bogged Down Wheel
Honest Statesman
Punctual Alarm Clock
Medicine Holder
Yoked Ox
Wrinkled Monkey
Bouquet of Flowers
Rising Sun
Doves set Free
Oh Susan! This made me want to laugh and cry! Such abstract titles that pack a punch and make me feel! Love this.
Susan,
This speaks to me this week. My husband had rotator cuff surgery last week, and it has changed my life in ways that make me fear the future. I’m going to be painting a bathroom this evening and tomorrow morning. I’m scared for what this means for my marriage to this man who, when he can’t do something, micromanages. I am not welcoming of anyone’s micromanaging. Someone is going to be the “braying donkey.”
Glenda, I hope his rotator cuff surgery works well. My husband has that problem as well as severe arthritis issues. We adapt. It is hard on these men and their egos. Especially for such men so active in the past.
A BIG thanks to Allison, Rachelle, David and Rex. These prompts were a bit of a challenge me – the artist and not usual writer. I have learned a lot and they have made me look inward as well as out. Grateful.
Good morning, David and thank you for this prompt. I loved Danez’s poem too. I went with running thoughts between teacher, students, and administration for my poem today.
Zoom Storm Warning
I’m unmuting everyone to answer on the count of 3!!!
(chaotic confusion on blast)
You’re muted.
(Lip reading instead of novel reading)
Your voice is going in and out.
(No reactions, sea of dead faces)
It’s glitchy.
(unstable internet connection…unstable internet connection)
It’s choppy.
(4 people on Zoom in one house)
I only heard: My/wouldn’t/dog/sister/hahahaha
(Hello? Did you hear my story?)
Nothing is attached to your assignment.
(My grandma said we will work on it.)
I can’t share my screen.
(But you shared just fine in breakout room at lunch.)
Take control of my screen.
(Hey, you can see what I’m doing!)
Collect photos to add to awards and prepare the slides by Monday
(It’s not business as usual.)
Why are we still doing the same thing during a pandemic?
(What happens if I don’t do it?)
She never stops talking and no one is listening.
(Does she realize it’s a monologue?)
Ask your brother to lower his voice.
(Man, what time you playin?)
Who’s teaching right next to you? I can hear her louder than you.
(The sound of b is buh. The sound of d is duh.)
Have you considered asking tech support to help?
(Where is that information? I never got it.)
Why aren’t you working on the assignment?
(What assignment?I thought we were asynchronous.)
If you don’t want to speak up, put it in the chat.
(Silence. No chat comments.)
Why didn’t you ask for help if you were confused?
(Silence)
I’m not okay…
I’m not okay…
Are you okay?
What’s wrong with her?
Is something wrong with her?
There must be something wrong with her.
©Stacey L. Joy, February 17, 2021
This is a darkly humorous poem. I chuckled at its truth. We have to laugh at ourselves. Not a good time to be without contact in the classroom and working with technology. I am retired and missed the confusion of on-line teaching. My daughter is in the think of it. Besides this communication gap using ZOOM, she tells me of all the social distress her students are feeling. Hope we are nearing a safe end to all of this.
Oh, my gosh!! this is absolutely wonderful!
This line grabbed me right away–so much part of my life! “I only heard: My/wouldn’t/dog/sister/hahahaha
(Hello? Did you hear my story?)”
Each line is an absolute gem of reality and quirk!
Stacey! I am not okay…okay? I so needed this but am sorry it exists but I am so glad you offered it to us/me today! My friend, the italics, parentheses, ellipses, question marks — all of these textual features offer so much to your message, tone, humor, absurdity of it all. This is a lesson in mechanics right here, friends., showing us the asynchronies of it all. This is how we should teach punctuation not packets and worksheets.
Hugs,
Sarah
OH my gosh, Stacey — This is priceless — the chaos of it! I think teachers are going to need PTSD therapies when this mess finally passes. This is mind-bogglingly insane. You captured the staccato of the Zoom room in each burst of misunderstandings and truncated commentary. Holy cow! This is publication worthy…. send it to EJ (I just suggested Scott do the same) — NCTE needs to publish this reality! Or better yet, the general PUBLIC needs to understand this mess. Whew! Great piece! Just love the honesty of it. It makes me want to hold your hand and offer you a gift certificate for a therapist after we’re safe to have those kinds of appointments again. Whoof! Thank you for all you do, girlfriend! Susie
Stacey,
This embodies the Zoom experience, the cacophony, the confusion, the chaos, the sad desperation. Is anyone okay? Those lady lines are a wallop.
Stacey, thanks for sharing! You’ll helping me see what could happen tomorrow. I’ve been invited to do an African American Read-In for a group of twelve upper-elementary and middle school students who meet through an community center Zoom gathering. They used to meet most evenings in person because their parents often work late.
Rather than I do all the talking, I was planning to have the young people view a piece of art by Jacob Lawrence, write about it, then share in break-out rooms before returning to read their chosen piece to the whole group. Their teacher says, sure they can do it. Now that I read your poem, I wonder.
Whew!
Thanks, Stacey. This is a powerful poem that both documents and vents about virtual learning during a pandemic. I feel ya. Because I help students learning virtually at a community center, I see a bit of the other side. I usually work with them during asynchronous learning, but sometimes I’ll sit in while they are “in class,” often nudging them to be more engaged. I mean, that stuff happens in-person too, but it’s so much harder for a teacher to call a student on it during zoom.
Stacey, thank you for writing and sharing this! All of this speaks to educating while “in the Zoom” and some spoke directly to my experiences teaching during this pandemic. I felt so much of this. And the repetition in the last stanza was so powerful!
Alternate Names for Students During a Pandemic
Feels Like Monday: A plastic bag swirling in the air, in the middle of a tornado, in the middle of a hurricane.
Maybe Tuesday?: Blindfolded and barefoot walking through a hallway full of mousetraps.
Wednesday, meh…: A damp echo that nobody hears in the blackest cave.
Just Another Day: A broken clock with spinning hands and grinding gears.
Not-Quite-Sure-Day: A single cell that shifts and squirms as it repairs itself.
Saturday, YASSSS!: A starling in the middle of a murmuration, energy flowing each to each.
Sunday, back so soon?: The Phoenix pushing through the earth’s crust with magma claws, orange and yellow pulsar beams energizing the world!
I kept trying to choose a favorite line—and then I’d read the next one!! Tuesday and Wednesday won. Blindfolded, barefoot, mousetraps? What more could I ask for!!
Shaun, that Sunday Phoenix – yes, that is the picture of every educator. Rising from the ashes every time, clawing back to do what must be done. Vivid and real – all of it, including those mousetraps.
Alternate name for headache
4. Implosion of thought
9. Dehydration of dendrites
2. Overstimulated optics
7. Screen fatigue, oh my
5. Mastermind of stressors
8. Nonsensical verbiage
6. Misplaced the gambit
3. I can’t today
Stefani, yes! Hurts so bad the eyeballs feel like they need a shot of WD-40 to roll around better. I like the unordered numbers the way it all feels when we are down for the count, and the missing 1. We can’t even find where to start.
Love your inclusion of numbers with this. It is a clever way to show the confusion of a headache where you can’t think straight.
…and then I noticed that they were all out of order! That detail took it to a whole new level–
33 Alternate Names for Cassiopeia Bagel Sands,
(our six month old terrier/chihuahua rescue)
1. Cassie Bagel
2. Cassie BAGEL SANDS!!!!!!!
3. Finder of small unknown objects we didn’t know we lost
4. Holy Terrier
5, Chewer of expensive wool sneakers
6, Cassie no
7, Cassie NO
8. CASSIE NO!!!!
9. Stop that, Cassie
10. What’s in your mouth?
11. Drop that, Cassie
12. Cassie dammit!
13. Drop it!
14. Is that my bra? Drop it!
15. Drop the underwear.
16. Stop!
17. Where did you find that? Drop it!
18. Is that a thumb tack? Drop it!
19. Is that a straight PIN? Drop it!
20, Is that my $600 NIGHT GUARD? DROP IT!
21. Was there a bomb?
22, Oh, my God…
23. Where do you FIND those kleenex?
24. Dogs don’t eat Kleenex.
25. Leave the cat alone
26. Leave the other cat alone
27. Leave that cat alone, too
28. Molly is old-leave her alone.
29, Go outside
30. Go OUTSIDE!
31. What is that smell?
32. Of course you can sleep under the blanket with me.
33. Love you, Baby Girl.
Oh, my goodness! What a perfect topic for your alternate names poem. Soooo precious! I see a theme of Drop it going on, and #32 and 33 are heartwarming, in spite of everything else, she is loved!
Gayle, This is fun and cute–can you add a picture? Oh, the night guard sounds painful. Thank you for sharing today.
I don’t know how to post a picture here–but if I did, I would post the pic of the stuffing storm I came down to in the living room today!
Gayle,
This is so funny and so true. I giggled knowingly. Of course Cassie “can sleep under the blanket.” I just spent an entire night wrapped with my legs around Snug’s body so I didn’t disturb his sleep. What else could I do?
Gayle, this just makes my heart sing! Oh, the names! Oh, the bullheaded temperamental awesomeness of this sweet girl! Living her best life and sharing it with you!
Please forgive me for laughing through this entire poem. Oh My Goodness. Your poem is my life. We have a 10 month old standard poodle. He is the love of my life, but I could totally replace Cassie with Prince. Great poem.
Alternate Name for a Car Stuck in the Snow
A poem in rhyme a-b-a-b
waits on that last vowel sound
to complete the scheme;
you beg Rhyme Zone for word,
scan Thesaurus.com for a verb,
plead to the poem gods for a beat
before dropping in a two-syllable synonym
that never stood a chance.
Sarah,
Good to see you, my friend. Here I see a poem w/ a utilitarian function: telling us that trip from Galveston was drought w/ trouble from the weather gods. Not mentioning the car in the poem (other than the title) is so clever. Be safe and warm.
Sarah, I hope you are unstuck from a physical and creative sense now. I love your notion of the “poem gods” and “never stood a chance.” Thank you for sharing.
Sarah, that feel of spinning wheels, waiting on just the right word to surface….definitely a stuck car. But then…VROOOMMM!
Sarah,
This is the perfect metaphor for a writer’s struggles – like being stuck in the snow. Let’s hope spring comes soon.
What a great metaphor to turn vehicular annoyances into something beautiful for a moment. HAHA. “Rhyme Zone”. So relatable!!!
This was a fun challenge! I liked the process of it — I started by making a list of emotions I have towards writing on one side of my notebook and then started writing images or metaphors that I associated with that. Then it became the following list:
Alternate Names for a Writer by Erica Johnson
1. that peach pit anchored between your heart and gut
2. a pen twirled restlessly between chewed nails
3. scratch, scratch, scratch to find the words, words, words
4. a pillow behind the back, easy now
5. the spider pulling threads at the center — to create and catch
6. eyes bright reflecting flickering candles
7. cracked fingers, cracked spine, release
Oh, Erica! That first line is just perfect — when the idea is “anchored between your heart and gut” and, well, we feel like we are choking or stifled! Perfect. I also appreciate the last entry #7 that releases the pit even if it takes a “cracked spine” to get it done!
Sarah
Erica, your line five is so encouraging: “the spider pulling threads at the center — to create and catch”
How often we who draft poems strive to pull things together in a way that is both creative and catchy. In this case, catches the idea for us, the writer and catches the attention of the reader is is captured by its beauty like a spiderweb in the sun after a moist morning.
Wow Erica. You are a phenomenal poet. I love where your mind goes. This poem is great. I can see you in these lines. Amazing!
David, thank you for investing in us as writers today! I love a list poem and my mind got stuck on variations of the long lists of plans – always changing, never sticking.
Alternate Plans for Educators During a Pandemic
our pantries stocked
with emergency tuna
we have a plan b, c, d, e….
but like tufts of a dandelion
parachute we wonder:
will we hold?
or will
Sal Khan get his wish
and become the world’s
one teacher?
Love the economy of words here, Kim. Such a gorgeous use of the white space and punctuation to move through “alternate plans”. Love the image of “dandelion/parachute”!
Sarah
Kim,
Will you send this to Sal? That had me laughing and thinking…was he patient zero and is this part of his master plan to “teach” the world?;)
Kim,
Such a great label “emergency tuna” – made me laugh and remembered my “emergency Spam” – perhaps we will all one day hold diplomas from the School of Sal.
Alternative Names for the Daily Newspaper
1. smudged inked fingers, with coffee and scones
2. echoed shouts of rolling machines in motion
3. camera lens clickclickclickclickclicking
4. question/answer question/answer question/
5. crumpled thin paper fire starter
6. Relic, yet reliable
7. Tipping on the balance beam, daily
8. The space where death goes to be noticed and remembered
9. Paneled fun space art show gallery
10. Help Wanted: A daily document to connect the community
(As a former newspaper journalist, and advocate of local newspapers, I mourn their decline and worry about what happens to communities where their local newspaper has disappeared. I may be old-school on this, but all evidence points to more partisanship and less government oversight when the local newspapers have gone away.)
It’s definitely sad the decline of print journalism. I appreciate you capturing your love of it in this poem. I enjoyed the image of the ink stained hands and how the line about balance is so near the middle of the list. I especially love the line “Relic, yet reliable.” and the final line being a reference to the want ads — that’s awesome!
Kevin, you are so right! A newspaper is quickly becoming a part of our past, unfortunately. Your #8 makes me think of the obit for papers themselves. 13 years ago I moved to a small town where we have a once-weekly paper (printed Tuesdays, in mailboxes
Wednesdays). I miss the crossword and the Jumble and even my horoscope on days when I wonder what might happen next. Sad times, indeed.
Kevin, I noticed a capital letter made its way into list at #6 with “Relic” and then, well, noticed your post-post remarks, and then, as usual, I inserted myself into the poem as I reflect on how beautiful a newspaper is and how old I feel in knowing this. It is the original multigenre project, the original multmodal artifact. And yes, there is much to mourn in this “space where death goes to be noticed” and local voices and names of journalists are silenced. I am so sad when I look at a byline online and see “staff” or worse — no name or person attributed to the writing!
Or now, machine writing newspaper articles … as much as I love technology, that trend (particularly now with online local news sites) just galls me to no end … (and add in the political bias that is being witnessed by researchers in those automated news article sites, and … grrr )
But .. you wrote this and I love this because it is true: “It is the original multigenre project, the original multmodal artifact.”
Kevin
Kevin — A journalist! Amen! I love this list and am moved by the strong stance of our need to never let go of the daily newspaper. My cousin was the editor of a small town newspaper in Iowa — of course, the paper dried up…well the town killed off the newspaper, and my cousin had to move on. But what a tragedy. I am one of those believers in how the paper “connect[s] the community.” Bravo! Susie
Kevin,
I too am a huge fan of newspapers. I love all the sights and sounds you used – and the message about connecting the community. Such a tragedy to lose them.