Welcome to Day 5 of the February Open Write. Many, many thanks to Stacey L. Joy and Britt Decker for taking such good care of our hearts and minds! If you have written with us before, welcome back. If you are joining us for the first time, you are in the kind, capable hands of today’s host, so just read the prompt below and then, when you are ready, write in the comment section below. We do ask that if you write, in the spirit of reciprocity, you respond to three or more writers. To learn more about the Open Write, click here. We will see you March 18-22 with Stefani Boutelier, Katrina Morrison, and Denise Hill as our hosts! And sign up to pledge to write poetry for National Poetry Month in our #Verselove Celebration “write” here on Ethical ELA, April 1-31.
Our Host
Stacey L. Joy is a National Board Certified Teacher, Google Certified Educator, L.A. County and LAUSD Teacher of the Year with over 37 years of elementary classroom teaching experience. She currently teaches 5th grade at Baldwin Hills Gifted Magnet and Pilot School. Teaching her Joyteam Stars the power of their history, self-advocacy, justice, and joy are the core of her practice. Stacey is a poet at heart with one self-published book and several poems published in various anthologies. Follow Stacey on Twitter @joyteamstars or on Instagram @joyteam.
Inspiration
Back in April 2021 for Verselove, our Ethical ELA friend, Dr. Kim Johnson, prompted us to write a version of a mirror poem by finding words from another poet to use in our original poems. I fell in love with You, too, Can Fly by Zetta Elliot.
Process
Find a poem, article, excerpt from a book, song or any inspiring piece to create your etheree. The etheree form follows this rule:
Line 1: one syllable
LIne 2: two syllables
Line 3: three syllables
Line 4: four syllables
Line 5: five syllables
Line 6: six syllables
Line 7: seven syllables
LIne 8: eight syllables
Line 9: nine syllables
Line 10: ten syllables
If you prefer to write with another form or no form at all, it is your choice.
Mentor Poem and Stacey’s Poem
You, too, Can Fly (Zetta Elliot reads her poem)
The excerpt that inspired my poem:
“When our ancestors
Had no cheek left to turn
They walked into
The sea
Or stepped into
The sky”
Stacey’s Poem
For Those Who’ve Lost Hope
Walk
into
the blue sea
dance on water
step into the sky
ride waves & caress clouds
tsunami of lightning bolts
ancestral songs beckon your soul
to rise, to ebb, to flow, to shower
Earth and humanity in harmony
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Stacey, your poem is so inspiring! I’ve never heard of Zetta Elliot or an etheree. I want to fly high too and your line of “ride waves &caress clouds” gives me the spirit of courage I long for. The sea and the sky, Earth’s natural beauty and ways of escape. Freedom! I’ve waited all evening for this! I read the prompt this morning, but my duties as an adult kept me at bay. Until now. I believe this is my favorite prompt (currently). I think the excitement comes from this poem I stumbled across (listen to it here: Rudy Francisco My Honest Poem
https://youtu.be/dDa4WTZ_58M)
The line I chose for my etheree is “And trying to convince my shadow that I’m someone worth following.”
To Shine or Not to Shine
Me
Afraid
To walk by
A silhouette
Of dreams cracked and bruised
Misshapen thoughts puddle
A spirit broke forever
Mind a cluttered closet clean out
Sun casts a new shadow unafraid
Walking tall as the sky rises above
What a beautiful transition you’ve captured here, Jessica. I like the ‘dark’ imagery of the silhouette, the bruising, and the puddle. All of those are loosely shaped or misshapen images. I can almost see this like an animation of you collecting all of this up, rising and walking tall away from it all – maybe despite it all (or ‘to spite’ it all!). It’s encouraging. And thank you for the poem! I love Button Poetry so much! And Rudy’s poem is one I will be sharing (maybe even a mentor poem for students to try their hand at!).
Thank you Denise, I love your comments! I’m glad I found it because I will be frequenting it often.
This is beautiful writing. I like the imagery and feel as if I’m there with you. Thank you.
Thank you so much Amber!
Oh, so beautiful, Jessica! I am just seeing this a month later and I wish I had seen it when you posted. You created a gorgeous image in my mind with:
Love the turn from fear to courage! Keep rising, Sis!
💜
Stacey, thank you for hosting this week! Your poem, as always, is filled with imagery that will stay with me. Thank you for the opportunity to write with you!
From The Sentence by Louise Erdrich “Maybe this was what being in a pandemic brought forth. When everything big is out of control, you start taking charge of small things.”
Big
changes
disrupt our
daily routines,
restructure our lives.
Unprecedented times
call for a re-centering
of ourselves, our reach, and our lives.
To inventory all the small things.
To remember what is within control.
Rachelle, I love the idea of taking inventory of the small things that are within our control. I’m a bit frantic right now with so many things that have to get done. Your poem is a reminder to me to take a breath and work with what is in my control. Thank you!
Rachelle, a re-centering of ourselves is whet is needed for us to truly appreciate and understand how many things we plan are not are plans. These are definitely unprecedented times and we really have to evaluate what is within our control and what we cannot control. We can only work with what we have.
Rachelle,
I love this! I think so many of us reexamined or restructured our lives over the last couple of years. Unprecedented indeed, and your final line is spot on.
Thank you for such a wonderful opportunity to write today, Stacey! I also want to thank both of you, Stacey and Britt, for this month’s Open Write prompts. You continue surprising me with new forms and inspirations. To write this poem, I kept at heart the following lines from the poem “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou:
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Rise to Your Strength
Look
into
the mirror.
See reflection
of your hurt soul
exhausted to limits.
Note a subtle spark of hope,
timid, faint-hearted, yet stalwart,
Let it peel off your scars, burns, and fears
Leaving loss, grief, pain, and terror behind.
Oh, Leilya, so gorgeous, this poem of hope and encouragement. That hope… “a subtle spark of hope, / timid, faint-hearted, yet stalwart” is perfect. And then “let it peel off…” sounds so affirming and healing.
Leilya, I love this “stalwart” “spark of hope”! And the use of “you” is such wonderful empowerment. Thank you for writing and sharing this!
Leilya, thank you for sharing this empowering poem today. I love the directive tone you create with that first word “Look”–I almost got up and looked in the mirror right then. These lines will be with me later when I wash my face and look into the mirror.
Leilya, I wrote about a shadow and your poem about reflections draws me in. “…a subtle spark of hope” is just enough to carry us through as we use it to move forward, become new, and become restored. Thank you for sharing!
Leilya! I needed this today!! Thank you for this gift!
I seek the subtle spark!
💙
Stacey, your poem is mournful, ethereal, prayerful, all the things that makes us love poetry. And I love this form.
My poem is inspired, once again, by my journey through Thailand.
Wat Uthai World Heritage Site Buddha Tree
Wat:
holy
home ruins of
ancient Buddhas.
Decapitated
Buddha head in one tree
draws selfie-taking tourists.
Once forgotten root-encased stone
at Uthai World Heritage Site
symbolizes mind-body disconnect.
—Glenda Funk
February 23, 2023
*Friends, I’m behind on my commenting but will catch up.
Hi from back home, Glenda! I enjoy your trip seeing your posts on FB. Thailand looks amazing through your eyes. Thank you for sharing this ancient site! Now I am going to thinnk about that “mind-body disconnect” for a while.
Wow, like Leilya said, it is so fun to watch your adventures through your photos, and now we get the added pleasure of your poetic responses. I hope you continue to write poetry about your trip.
“Once forgotten root-encased stone” — you have captured the Buddha head perfectly in your poem. Thanks for sharing the picture as well.
Glenda, the imagery in your poem is striking! Your last line adds that precise note to close. What a fantastic journey you’ve been on! Thanks for sharing your adventures through your beautiful poems and photos!
I’m stunned by the last lines: “symbolized mind-body disconnect.” The imagery and that idea will be sitting with me for the rest of the night. Thank you! I briefly visited Thailand a few years ago, so I didn’t get to see much. I remember the beauty of the Big Buddah statue outside Phuket which came to mind while reading your poem.
“Mind-body disconnect”…wow Glenda! That is not only a powerful image, but it speaks metaphorically to me as well. The irony of holy ruins and people desecrating them by taking selfies. The feeling of not having our head on…not just straight, but at all! Time to rethink some things. Thank you for sharing.
Holy cow, Glenda — This sure gives us a dose of your travels! Such an image…”disconnect” indeed! Yikes! Hugs, Susie
Stacey, your poem is moving, especially for those who celebrate BHM because of personal ancestry ties. We’ve been listening to the old “Negro Spirituals” and then the 21st Century “Glory”, the them song in the movie, “Selma” and hear in the new songs the
ancestral songs beckon your soul
to rise, to ebb, to flow, to shower
Earth and humanity in harmony
Thankfully, we here on OpenWrite are hearing harmony from our co-writers, too.
Lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely
in soprano, alto, tenor, and bass!
Thank you, sister! I appreciate you and your words!
I like the vision of ‘Earth and humanity in harmony’ – we are, after all, so deeply connected to the Earth, but truly, only through our humanity. Lose that, and we lose the deepest connection of all. Solid.
Stacey, the poem you wrote is gorgeous, as usual. I love all the lines. It flows like music, and best of all is the title. It makes the whole poem more meaningful. Here’s to “Earth and humanity in harmony.”
Thank you, Stacey, for this prompt and to both Stacey and Britt for a great Open Write this week. You are gems of poetry delight! Here’s my poem, really a summary/found poem of Nicolette Sowder’s “Wilder Bond Poem”.
From Nicolette’s Poem:
May we raise children
who love the unloved
things – the dandelion, worms
spiderlings…
more
Run,
Children,
Sense and know–
Wild and loathed things,
Turn to the sun and
Dance on the rainswept days,
Someday you’ll see those who have
No voice, they’ll need someone, and you’ll
Remember your loves, all your years of
Tending the fragile; you will be the one.
Denise, this is exquisite! I’m so happy to read your poem, savoring this idea of teaching children to love the unloved…thanks for the link to Nicolette Sowder’s poem.
Denise,
I love the “Dance on the rainswept days” — such a lovely image that makes me wonder how it feels to be rainswept in the best sense.
Sarah
I love the vitality of this poem “dance on the rainswept days”.
This poem is beautiful! There’s so much hope in this. I love the imagery of “dance on the rainswept day” and the characterization of “wild and loathed things”.
Denise,
This is spectacular, and the directive children need. “may we raise children who love the unloved.” Yes, to this. ❤️
Such a beautiful poem, Denise! Thank you for reminding me Sowder’s poem.I can’t choose a favorite line; the entire poem is so wisely crafted.
Denise, absolutely gorgeous imagery. Loved “Tending the fragile” . The flow and movement is magical!
Denise, your poem speaks to the child in me! I want to play, run, dance, and enjoy the freedom of being a child. I love the last line because we return to fragile as we grow old.
Beautiful!
Here is Rupi Kauer’s beautiful poem. Below it is my etheree.
what if
there isn’t enough time
to give her what she deserves
do you think
if i begged the sky hard enough
my mother’s soul would
return to me as my daughter
so i can give her
the comfort she gave me
my whole life
Time
By Mo Daley 2/22/23
time
is a
monster who
makes me wish for
sweet impossible
a world-bound love that will
reincarnate just to feel that
much deserved comfort one more time-
a gift to us both would be such a
miracle-perhaps it may be one day
Mo, this is so precious a poem…yes, “miracle – perhaps it may be one day.” Just lovely, to imagine that!
Mo,
I feel the yearning, maybe desperation of the moment of the speaker who knows precisely what they need and yet cannot have it — yet. “Just to feel that” resonates!
Peace,
Sarah
Oh, what would we do with that sweet opportunity “to feel that / much deserved comfort one more time”? A lovely thought.
“Just to feel that comfort once more” Don’t we all wish for more time, that sweet impossible? Well-crafted.
Don’t we all wish for this miracle? Thank you for a beautiful poem and a chance to entertain the idea of “sweet impossible.”
Ohhh, Mo, how I long for “much deserved comfort one more time” and to linger in that soft space as long as I can.
Love your poem and Rupi’s too!
Stacey, your poem is so beautiful as it grows and grows into a message of love.
I used the Ash Wednesday sermon, written by my friend and priest Annie, in which she began with a beautiful story of a bluebird she could watch because someone had posted a video from inside the nesting box.
Nesting Box
soul
nesting
we could watch
mama bluebird
being a bluebird
collecting tiny twigs
flashing her royal colors
you see a fragile little frame
she pushed an egg out of her body
with a great flourish of her azure wings
Margaret, what a thing to witness, this beautiful bluebird mama – “fragile little frame/she pushed an egg out of her body.” How the ordinary is really extraordinary, when we look closer. Beautiful!
Margaret,
The “fragile little frame” sounds lovely when I speak the words, and that line after the “flashing her royal colors” offers such a start contrast of what the little frame will become!
Sarah
Margaret, a blessed Ash Wednesday to you. What a sweet image of being able to see the egg come out of her body. I love your last line too, it adds to the image: “with a great flourish of her azure wings” Beautiful!
Wow, that last line is a “mic drop” line! There’s such beauty and power, and right next to the “tiny little frame”. I love this whole poem!
So much love in this poem! Every word is carefully selected and adds to the magic that happens. Thank you, Margaret!
Margaret, this is a beautiful and tender poem! I’m struck so by the repetition in lines 4 and 5 (and I can’t quite articulate why, but I just really love it): “mama bluebird / being a bluebird.” This quiet glimpse of a bluebird “being a bluebird” and doing what bluebirds do is wonderful!
Margaret, this poem is all love…
If only I loved birds. LOL.
The rich color amidst the fragile little frame paints a gorgeous image of life!
Thank you, Stacey and Britt, for these marvelous five days of poetry writing! You shared a beautiful etheree, Stacey – I love this poetry form, in general, with its melodic increasing syllables…but I especially love the rhythm and beat of your line “to rise, to ebb, to flow, to shower” – just gorgeous!
My etheree was inspired by working in the garden today.
worms
wriggling
in the dirt
as my shovel
turns the hard soil
disturbing their abode
little soft bodied beings
surprising me, and, yes, I, them
each long forgotten by the other
this chilly grey day at the edge of spring
Oh, Maureen, I can’t wait to get working outside again. Not today, though, as we have freezing rain. I love your last three lines especially.
My poem of inspiration had worms in it too, Maureen. You are one with a wild bond that Nicolette writes about. I hope you’ll read her poem, linked above. I love that you describe both you and the worms as being surprised. “at the edge of spring” is one of my favorite places to be.
Maureen,
I love your poem. I love the way it honors worms and teaches about them. It belongs in a picture book. Brilliant!
Maureen, I love the sequence in your poem. The ending is beautiful and relatable! I feel that gray and chill. I’m captured by your second to last line. Beautiful poem!
Stacey, thanks for such a fantastic prompt. I love the imagery and spirituality of your poem. I can just see you dancing on water, riding waves, and caressing clouds. Beautiful.
My poem is inspired by Langston Hughes “Dream Boogie”.
Sure, I’m Happy, Pappy
dreams
deferred
fly unheard
free-fall smack dab
into midnight blues
bass, saxophone’s trebles
trilling, twining cat-gut lace
drums slap tappy thrum─yeah, listen,
happy feet, do you hear the re-bop
mop, boogie-woogie─dance those blues away
Barb Edler
22 February 2023
Thank you, Barb! I can imagine our beloved Langston dancing on the clouds to your poem song!
💙
Barb — I LOVE the music and rhythm through this poem. I can see it and feel it and certainly hear it! I love that music can push all those “deferred” feelings away. Yes! Susie
Such a musical poem, Barb! I love all the beats and movement, in every line – singing and dancing throughout.
Barb, you have written another musical poem. You’ve got great rhythm. “dance those blues away”, indeed!
Barb,
This is a wonderful response to LH’s poem. Love the cadence and the rhyme.
This is a great poem, Barb! You really capture the musicality that made Langston Hughes’ blues poems sing. And the specificity of the images–the “cat-gut lace” and the sound of the “drums slap tappy thrum” put us right in the middle of a sweaty set in a small club. Awesome poem!
Barb, I’m in total agreement with everyone here! I love the rhythm and beat that you’ve crafted throughout. There’s real movement here! Thank you for this!
[Stacey, thank you for the introduction to Zeta Elliot. I loved listening to her this morning. And I needed your hopeful, upbeat etheree to start my day. Thank you!]
CROW PSALMS
She,
poet
Zeta, pled:
think of Aesop …
his crow cawed challenge —
open wide the “third eye,”
see past the sorry ruins
of reeking, reckless decisions,
witness green flowered meadows ahead,
prime the eye for the cusp of tomorrow.
But my milky, near-blind eye strains to see
beyond winter’s slog of dense grey fog,
to wade through my murky choices,
to feel Crow’s uttered voices;
I find my lid sewn tight,
useless, gouged, and scabbed,
palms open to
empty
psalms.
by Susie Morice, February 22, 2023©
Susie, your poem is heavy with sorrow and edgy imagery. “see past the sorry ruins/ of reeking, reckless decisions” depicts a hard world destroyed by heedless actions. Although you follow this line with “green flowered meadows,” your following etheree shows the disconnect between wanting to see good but failing due to the “grey fog,” etc. The visceral image of “I find my lid sewn tight” is chilling, and your closing lines are provocative. I can see the “palms open” and can relate to the emotion of “empty/psalm”. I’m definitely feeling the sense of bleakness and despair. Incredibly powerful poem! I sure enjoy reading your work! Hugs, Barb
There are so many gorgeous words involving sight throughout your poem – love these word choices: third eye, see past, murky, lid sewn tight, gouged, near-blind, prime the eye…really powerful, and creates such a sad intensity.
Susie,
I am always awed and inspired by your words. These lines: “see past the sorry ruins” That’s so easily said but hard to do as your second verse shows.
Susie, you do it every time! I want to spend time in your mind. Your word choices and descriptions create intensity and raw emotions. You’re just incredibly gifted and I pray for us all to get here:
Much love, Susie!
I love this form and your example–I’m totally using this in my classes. Thank you!
This is a line from the novel I’m teaching right now.
“The silence he left was heavy but comfortable, like a well-worn, prickly cardigan on a bitter morning.” –from Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Love
is not
the thing that
should shroud the heart
in the comfortable
discomfort of yielding
to another’s rules and the
fear that comes from never knowing
when you are safe and when you can
be truly yourself without compromise
Cara, stunning poem! I love how you show the importance of following one’s true self.
Beautiful poem about what love should be. The words ‘comfortable/discomfort’ is particularly evocative…we can condition ourselves to expect less in love (and we shouldn’t!).
Cara,
Wow! This is so wonderful. It builds so naturally. It has that rhythm that happens from the increasing syllables, but it comes across so easily. I especially love
Cara, powerful use of enjambment to split up the oxymoron: “comfortable / discomfort”. You capture that tension so perfectly. Wow!
Hi Cara! I haven’t read Purple Hibiscus and you’ve intrigued me. I love Chimamanda Adichie’s work so I will check it out. Your poem is what I needed before I got married too young to a fool! Wow, it’s a lesson everyone should learn and never have to repeat again.
Thanks so much for this gift!
A DIY Etheree
This
is a
poem about
(fill in the blank);
it can be about
whatever your heart wants.
Seriously, it can be
about anything that you want
(except for fish, don’t write about fish,
Mary Oliver has got that covered).
_______________________________________________
Thank you for this form, Stacey! I wasn’t familiar with the Etheree before today. And I really enjoyed your mentor poem (and Zetta Elliot’s, too!). Your repetition of sounds and infinitives carry me along – “caress clouds,” “songs” and “soul,” “to rise, to ebb, to flow” – to the beautiful last line: “Earth and humanity in harmony.”
Scott — I like that DIY idea…so inventive! And the last two lines are just great…M.O., a huge, fave, yup “fish” have been covered. AHAHAHA! Susie
Mary Oliver has written lots about fish, lol! But we could still try again, I think. I love this – the parenthetical “(fill in the blank)” is so inviting. “whatever your heart wants” Sweet!
Scott, thank you and I’m glad that you wrote with a new form today. I’m always amazed at your poetry. I would love to be a student in your classroom! I know your sense of humor keeps learning exciting.
Scott, I love this DIY etheree today. Sweet! Now I want to go and read some Mary Oliver, fish and more.
Well, crap. Here I am, brushing my teeth — twenty minutes to midnight — and I realize that I put the wrong poet in my poem! Now, no one will see this comment, and that’s ok, really (this is more for my benefit, lol). I guess the joke still works ’cause Mary Oliver has written on a number of topics, fish included — and this was by no means meant as disrespectful toward her in any way, I’m a big fan of her poetry — but I was thinking of Elizabeth Bishop and her fish poem. You know the one. THE Fish poem. That’s what the joke should have been, but I think I was so delighted by getting the syllable count with Oliver’s name that I accidentally screwed up the punchline! (In retrospect, I could have still used Oliver and just swapped out “fish” for “geese” and that would have worked! Ah, the power of revision.) Carry on with the rest of your regularly scheduled evening!
Stacy, thank you for another totally stealable prompt and for introducing us to You, too, Can Fly. I found those same lines beautiful and poignant. I love your poem, especially in relation to the inspiration poem–the last 3 lines, the ancestral songs, in harmony are a beautiful nod to the connections across time and space that are part of our now.
As it’s Hip Hop’s 50th birthday this year, and I came across amazing freestyle that Black Thought of the Roots created, I’m using that as my inspiration. The lies that really get me are about 3 1/2 minutes in, where he rhymes: Boogie Down breakdown, take down/ til the details of our esacpe down/ We was hungry but there’s more than enough on the plate now/ 8 mile, Rosencrans, 10 toes, both hands/ Peach Tree to 9th Ward to in and out of the psych ward/ COs and POs and OGs and GOs/ The rights of passage that’s passed down from the griots.
Here’s a link to the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unAu0zw-HB0
The Foundation
Herc
Merry-
Go-Rounded
The breaks, Sedgwick–
the new Congo Square.
Iron horse runs all city,
higher glyphs reign from the el.
Rock Steady ruled Lincoln Center
Cold Crushed Harlem World and Fab 5
Plugged downtown to the Boogie Down sound.
Dave, love this! I was just listening to BDP this morning (“Stop the Violence”) as well as “World Destruction” by Time Zone, so the headspace was perfect to receive your electric imagery in this piece: Nailed it!
Dave, fantastic sound and imagery here. I like the iconic details you’ve included. Thanks, too, for the link to the video. Powerful poem!
Wow, Dave! This is such a great tribute and honor to hip-hop! This poem begs to have music in the background! Love it!!
What a great inspiration, Stacey! I love the mentor poem that you crafted. Anything that brings together humanity and earth has such power.
I revisited a spoke-word poem that I have shown my classes for them to get inspired by. I am going to insert both the video and the text.
“Hands” spoken word poetry by Sarah Kay
The text of the poem
I harvestes Sarah’s own lines and made sure they matched the syllable count.
Zipper of Prayer
Hands
Holding hands
My dad and I
us keeping track
of how many times.
Hands learn more than minds do . . .
maps and compasses through life.
I love hands like I love people
each scar marks the story worth telling
even if fists alone are only hands.
~Susan Ahlbrand
22 February 2023
Susan, I love the way you capture the imagery of hands, the power they hold, and the stories they reveal. Compelling poem!
Oh Susan, what a perfect title! I love this:
I feel like you could have an entire collection of poetry about hands and the stories and lessons they hold. This is a beautiful poem worth cherishing forever!
It’s indeed a powerful poem – and powerfully performed. Funny as well, swelling over so many emotions. Thank you for sharing this one, Susan!
Well, Stacey, you got us again with a poem that calls for self-reflection!
Why Fly?
Fly
Me fly
But why fly
We might just die
Die from height in flight
I am not sure I can
Fly in the midst of the fright
But I’ll try since you think I might
Learn something way up there in the air
Or maybe I’ll just stay right here in my chair.
My photo didn’t upload at first. So here it is now.
Yes, Anna, fly!!!! But if you prefer to stay in your chair, I say STAY THERE! You have all the rights to choose. Love it!
Anna, I can relate to this fear. If I think about it too much, it feels almost insurmountable. This form works so well as the fear builds with the syllable count. The shape reminds me of small steps too.
Fun-ny! Love this one – and the image is so CHILL! My shoulders instantly dropped into relaxation when I saw that. I hate flying! So I’m all for staying right there in the chair! Thanks for a fun one, Anna!
Books
leaf
bound leaf
gnarled veins wrap
spread toward margin gaps
life-gazing turns over
tips hover upon creases
resting within spaces alive
rationing inked spots to fortify
tangled vines bound by leaf anatomy
Source: “Literature makes us better noticers of life; we get to practice on life itself; which in turn makes us better readers of detail in literature; which in turn makes us better readers of life.”― Mary Karr, The Art of Memoir
Sarah, you connect the ideas here, of life and literature, through intense imagery: gnarled veins, resting spaces, leaf anatomy. I appreciate that metaphor and find myself thinking of the veins of maple leaves and their shapes, like hands while returning to the leafs of books, their pages gazing back at us.
Sarah, I am in awe of the language you use to weave the power of a book. Loved “tips hover upon creases/resting within spaces alive”. I love that contrast and the idea of how a whole world is teaming alive and vibrant on any page. Provocative poem, and thanks for sharing the quote. Beautiful!
Sarah, I’m enamored of your chosen quote, and of the imagery in your poem. I cannot help noting the connections between vines and veins. “Tangled vines bound by leaf anatomy” is such an amazing metaphor – and a perfect ribbon tied back to the beginning.
If anyone can bring life to books, it would be you. I am awestruck by the luscious realness you created here with your metaphors, especially here:
I could sit with this for a long while!
♥️
Stacey! I love the prompt, the form, and your poem, which is so inspiring and necessary for so many of us. The message of walking into the sea to renew the inner balance, to recharge, and restore is so beautifully crafted. Thank you! I will write later today. I will bring this into my classroom tomorrow.
Thank you, dear Leilya! 💜
Stacey, thanks for introducing me to “You, Too, Can Fly”: a gorgeous poem! I loved your poem inspired by it, with its beautiful alliteration, imagery, and hopeful message. Here is mine for today, an ode to my best friend. Thanks for the great, cathartic opportunities to write this week!
And
Heart-full,
Finally:
Voice in my ear
Trusted, most-loved friend
Shatters all illusions
Keeps dragons and demons in
Check – especially the ones in
My mind, most dangerous, that chew my
Heart and tease my brain with hopeless despair.
Sister, you know me all too well: the voice
Of reason, knowledge, and of the past:
And through raucous laughs breathe, relieve
All of the confusion, pain
That blood siblings cannot:
My life has been hers
And hers as mine
Bound through tears,
Forged by
Fire.
I didn’t want to neglect to credit the band Massive Attack for inspiring this with their song “Teardrop”:
Water is my eye
Most faithful mirror
Fearless on my breath
Teardrop on the fire
Of a confession
Fearless on my breath
Most faithful mirror
Fearless on my breath
Wendy, Oh! I love these lines: My mind, most dangerous, that chew my/Heart and tease my brain with hopeless despair. The dragon imagery, forging by fire, and the strength between sisters, blood related or not, is empowering.
Wendy, I hope you share this with your sister! Not just because the poem looks like an ear, but because of the gratefulness you express in lines like those that close this poem.
Gorgeous poem, Wendy – I am struck by the truth of a most-trusted friend helping to keep dragons and demons in check, and then how the relationship is bound through tears and forged by fire. There’s a mystical and ceremonial feel to these lines – so fitting for friendship’s deep roots!
Wendy, this is absolutely beautiful and I sure hope your best friend knows how much your friendship means. My sister is my best friend but I have best friends that are like sisters, so I totally identify with your poem. My favorite lines are:
Powerful!
Stacey, I cannot help but think of Kwame’s The Door of No Return as I read your words, the stepping into the sea and the sky (a nod to your poem Monday). The pull of ebb and flow, and most of all the rising, of a people, is so powerful. Thank you for your inspiration this week: in prompts, words, voice. I was reminded of Bradbury’s The Other Foot and took these words from him: guns were sticking up out of some cars like telescopes sighting all the evils of a world coming to an end.
guns
sticking
toward the sky
like telescopes,
lenses like eyes to
see the evils this world
sings and celebrates, star-crossed
muzzles sighting a world coming
to an end as we watch, sitting back
languidly, amused, while the show wraps up
its final season, the actors spent,
wearied, taking their final bows,
white flags raised, flapping without
wind, waving without hope,
the house curtain falls,
ended by remote
and just one
trigger
click
Jennifer, wow! I never thought the state of the world in its own documentary season, but here we are. Those one syllable lines at beginning and end and the two-syllable ones create a vivid picture of the world as we know it. I used to think a lot about that old interview question about who I would bring back for lunch from the past – – today, I think it would be cruel to pull a historic figure through the grave to see what a mess this place is. And yet, there are spaces of tranquil peace and beauty. The last of their kind, like that one truffula seed.
Jennifer,
This is a brilliantly rendered poem. I am finding myself in a similar headspace today. I read Kim’s comment and I was also struck by the power of those first and last 2 lines.
This was amazing, Jennifer, and managed to be beautiful and frightening simultaneously. Lovely and effective structure and loved the way the sounds of your words resonated within it. Really great piece.
Jennifer, your poems always leave me in awe! I love how easily I can picture every image and hear every sound. This resonated with me:
Holding my breath at the end! Praying for change in this nasty world.
Thank you, Jennifer, for being you.💜
Stacey,
I so appreciate the elevation of the moves. I was stuck on “walk into the sea” I think because I feel the need to be weightless, and then I reread your lines and noticed the prepositions: “dance on water” and “step into the sky”. This gradually lifting oneself toward the clouds to be the rain that washes over others, earth. What a lovely call.
Sarah
Stacey, that etheree is positively peaceful and calming. Riding on waves and caressing clouds without the demands of work, just kicking back – – that’s what we could all use more of these days. Hearing the ancestral songs beckon feels like coming home. You know I’m a fan of the Etheree poem, so I love this one today! I enjoy the shorter forms with structure.
Thanks to you and Britt for hosting us this week – I have loved each day of these fabulous prompts.
I’m traveling this week and next for a little work and a little pleasure mixed in – and my hotel room inspired today’s etheree…..
Kim,
Man, I love hotel rooms. You capture the experience with great imagery.
Loved the twist at the end, made me giggle. 🙂
Kim, ooof! All that tranquility and whispery softness felled by a two year old. What a finale!
Kim, I love the mirror images that these poems present–the imagery of the first 10 lines felt like I was sinking my head into a cool down-filled pillow; and then OH NO @ the stomping toddler!
Kim, Oh my, I wasn’t expecting that ending. You had me laughing out loud, but I’m sorry you had to endure a child crying. Safe travels!
Kim – perfect description of hotel decor: Whispery-gray walls and white down comforters, which are the BEST. Hampton Inn actually sells beds and bedding online-! Oh, how the tranquility beckons the writer to write…except for that toddler upstairs (nooooooo…). I have a photo of me taken in Grove Park at Fitzgerald’s desk. 🙂 Fabulous double etheree – so funny how we had this same thought! But not surprising. #kindredspirit
Kim, thank you again for inspiring me in more ways than you know. Thank you for being such a wonderful poet friend.
Not only have you made me want to go on vacation and relax in a hotel and write beautiful poetry, but I’m also thankful there is no one above me right now stomping on the floor.🤣🤣
Much love!💜
I took my inspiration from the closing line of the poem “Worms” by Tegan Murrell (Big Muddy, 22/23): “tunneling through her chest, her half-heart still beating.”
that
half-heart
remains where
they tried to stomp
out a life through their
cruelty, a battle
of wills and won’ts, can’ts and shants
each day she’s still in the mirror
the one they couldn’t crush away try
as they might she keeps her whole life beating
Denise, this speaks volumes about the cruelty of people to inflict pain – physical or otherwise – on another person. They tried to stomp out a life through their cruelty just truly resonates with me today. Compassion is difficult if not impossible to feel for those with the stomping boots. I’m glad the half-heart is still there, the whole life beating.
Denise,
I am lingering in the line “each day she’s still in the mirror” and I also am tuning into the apostrophes or contractions. I am thinking about what is contracted there and how that works symbolically as evidence of the “cruelty”. And I am now thinking about how those fragments are also part of the whole self – missing pieces yet somehow necessary for that “whole life beating.”
Peace,
Sarah
This was beautiful and sad, Denise — I loved:
“each day she’s still in the mirror”
and
“she keeps her whole life beating”
Resonated with me on this gray, storm-awaiting day!
Denise, there’s a gut punch here, along with the sheer strength of survival. I feel it, in each half-heart beating her whole life through. She can’t be defeated, despite the cruelty. She won’t be. That is everything.
Denise, wow, your poem is mesmerizing with its sharp imagery and emotions. I love how you end this poem “she keeps her whole life beating”. The contrast of that beating heart with the physicality of a physical beating and the cruelty of battle is sensational. Powerful poem!
Denise! Yes!!! As a survivor, I can stand and clap and shout hallelujah for your gift!
I love, love, love this!
I love an etheree, Stacey! I also love the flow, rhythm, and invitation to peace and hope in your beautiful verse, which speaks to overcoming with the storm imagery. I took my inspiration from nature today – as I often do. I also got hung on trying to make it a reverso etheree – don’t know why, but here it is so far, I want to keep tinkering with it… thank you for your artistry and your heart!
Beyond the Crucible’s Rim
Birds
singing
in the trees
when I come home,
daily despairing
inflicted infractions
=soul-infusion, repairing
holes made by needless extractions,
my tattered spirit, my shattered hope…
this tiny bit of joy sent for healing.
This tiny bit of joy sent for healing
(my tattered spirit, my shattered hope,
holes made by needless extractions…)
-soul-infusion, repairing
inflicted infractions:
Daily despairing
when I come home…
in the trees,
singing
birds
Fran– This worked beautifully! I love a birdie poem and the power it has to bring me into focus. The etheree you created here works perfectly to open the focus, to gather images, and then to bring us back to the beauty of the bird again. This works like a pulse or a breathing …the exhalation … those internal acts that our bodies use to help us focus. Beautiful job. Your images helped me feel the distractions and “infractions” and “extractions” that whittle away our days…and HOME brings us back to center. Aaah. Lovely lovely lovely. Susie
Fran, this was lovely and a little heartbreaking (and relatable). Loved the structure! The inflicted infractions, the needless extractions—I experience them daily, too. Looking forward to those singing birds to come home to, while all is still frozen and skies are still here in the northeast.
Fran, we were thinking the same with the reverse today (I love the butterfly/winged look), I see – but I have never been able to write a true reverso – – only one that goes 1-10 and 10-1. This is beautiful ~ you are a master with words this way, and the meaning is so peacebearing. Using nature as the inspiration, birds in particular, is trademark Fran, and the singing of those birds is a grounding force for the stress we feel. Plus, the image it creates is the wingspan look. Perfectly written!
Lovely mirroring here, Fran.
I am lingering in the “Daily despairing” and how you have made into a verb despair, which feels more true to me — a way of being that is in progress and not stable or static. And then those ellipses (or ellipsis– not sure) — how those dots show despairing visually.
Sarah
Fran, wow, I love how you were able to create such a powerful emotion and imagery and then mirror it with the following etheree. Creative to the nth degree! Kudos!
Fran, you nailed it and must’ve witnessed my day. It seemed today was despairing without repairing! Reading your poem was healing for me. I don’t know what tomorrow may bring but I will look and listen for the song in nature to bring me joy.
I appreciate this poem and you!