Welcome to Day 2 of the July Open Write. 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.
Our Host
Mo lives in Oak Forest, Illinois and works as a middle school reading specialist. She loves spending time with her dogs and her large family, especially her two precocious grandsons. Mo loves to travel and read. She and her husband work together to promote literacy by book bombing and making Little Free Libraries. You can sometimes find her at her Indiana lake cottage, AKA, the Money Pit.
Inspiration
I love experimenting with new poetic forms. The Fibonacci Poem was invented by Gregory K. Pincus in 2006. It follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllable count in each line. For those of us not mathematically inclined, that means a six lined poem with this pattern:
- 1 syllable for first line
- 1 syllable for second line
- 2 syllables for third
- 3 syllables for fourth
- 5 syllables for fifth
- 8 syllables for sixth
For more information and examples, check out Writer’s Digest.
Process
Using this short form, write a poem on any topic you’d like. If you feel so inclined, you could add on as many lines as you’d like, sticking to the formula that each line equals the sum of the last two lines. You could even do a forward and backward Fibonacci. Have fun with the format!
For the topic of my first Fibonacci poem, I chose fibbing for some reason.
Mo’s Poem
Fibbers
By Mo Daley 6-15-23
fibs
lies
untruths
deceptions
can roll of the tongue
with ease, but can’t be rolled back in
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. For suggestions on how to comment with care. See this graphic.
Leek,
Beef,
Carrot,
Bell pepper,
Riced cauliflower,
Tonight we dine with divine taste
Bat
Ball
Home run
Crack of bat
Strike three, you are out
More than just a game, a past-time
I really liked this poetry format as it forced me to focus on how I used the terms and phrases I wanted to appropriately. I think having parameters like this is great as it allows us to be creative but also stay honed in on a certain goal.
Thank you for hosting today Mo. I hope all is well with you. This is a pretty neat form. And non mathematically inclined here, so thank you for breaking it down for me. I love how you used synonyms for fibbing.They all sound bad. A lie is a lie no matter how you say it. But you are definitely right, no matter how well they “can roll of the tongue with ease, but can’t be rolled back in.”
Here’s my poem. I had vacation on the brain.
My Ideal Vacation
Peace.
Rest.
Stillness.
Renewal.
Longing desire.
All expenses paid would be nice.
Mo, I love your poem and its pertinence to our students. I appreciate you showing me a new poem type, I love when poems focus on syllables since this is attainable for anyone. I think your final two lines are profound, “Can roll off the tongue/with ease but can’t be rolled back in”, these words are so true.
Here is my Fibonacci poem, focusing on some the words I hear all too often from students.
Can’t
Won’t
Two words
That only block progress
Get rid of the “T” and succeed
Sam, it took me a little too long, to get it (blame it on Summer), but I totally agree. “Get rid of the “T” and succeed”! If only we can shift that fixed mindset to a growth mindset. Those words definitely block progress. We hear them so often they are attached to our tongues. Thank you for sharing this!
Why
do
I fear
the shoe will
drop when I let my
guard down? It has happened before.
I want to trust there will be no
repeats and no more
replays of
living
in
fear.
Wow Donnetta, that’s a great question you shared there. But you answered your question in your next stanza…trust. “I want to trust there will be no repeats and no more replays…” When we break the wall of fear down, we can step over the rubble and build a foundation to stand on-faith. Thank you for sharing this!
Thank you for the suggestion. I wrote way too many nonsense poems today. I’ll share this one:
It
blows
up high
and bends back
branches so far from
feet keeping me planted aground
A poem full of contrasts, I love it. I find this format addicting, too!
Mo, thank you for this Fibonacci poetry prompt.I have created four knitted blankets in the Fibonacci pattern so my poem of course had to be about knitting.
Knit
Purl
Until
You’re done
Gifting from the heart
Perfect knitter and receiver
DeAnna,
As a frequent beneficiary of your knitting prowess, they are indeed gifts from the heart. Nicely done.
Ooh! I’d love to see a picture! Your last two lines say it all. Lovely.
I love the connection between two of your hobbies: knitting and writing. That’s so clever!
Poems with forms like Fibonacci are like knitting in a sense, as we need to follow a format to reach the end goal with a sound product. This poem made me realize that so thank you!
A poem that needs a lengthy introduction is not yet ready for Prime Time! Still, I’m compelled to add context. I spend a few days with my 3-month-old grandchild in NC last week. I’m enthralled with each of his milestones. (And I am “Granapple.”)
Roger at Three Months
His
fist
clenches
Granapple’s
finger, then somehow
deftly holds the world in his palm.
Allison,
I love Granapple for a name. My grandson used to call me Amma until he was older. I miss those days. Thank you for sharing today.
What a beautiful final line that predicts his future. Those milestones are great opportunities for poetry. By the way, I’m Mamo.
Allison, what a delightful poem! Granapple, such a sweet moniker for you. Your last line says it all!
I love your name, “Granapple”. Love the play on words. Roger has a great future. As he “deftly holds the world in his palm”. Babies grab what they want and they hold on! That’s the mindset we need today. Thank you for sharing Allison.
Oooooh! I like the rolling off the tongue (but can’t be rolled back in)! Thank you for reminding me of this form.
Mo, your poem with its lists of synonyms for lies that you enliven in your fifth line, then tell the truth about the untruths in the sixth line. Wow! You certainly demonstrate the value of carefully selected and arranged words to invoke the truth with clarity.
Mo,
Thank you for your poem. I love Fibonacci’s! Your poem captures how I feel lately about the lies spun by fake news. So damaging!
Earth
burns
inhale
the poison
animals scatter
trees tumble as the forest dies
Tammi, the verbs in your poem today are weighty and create such movement (scatter, tumble). Our climate issues cause me so much concern and you capture it here. I could see this form being used with students in a variety of classes and yours would be such a good example!
Oh,Tammi, this is a poem I wish were fiction! It so accurately describes what’s going on in our area of the country, too. But, I’m confident our country is going to take significant steps to reduce the causes of this poisoning because sooooo many of us are experiencing the problem firsthand. So, in this case, thanks for putting it into words so artistically. We can see, smell and understand the damage.
Another air quality alert day here in the Midwest. I’m not sure why people don’t get it.
Tammi,
My older son is a wildland firefighter, so I so completely feel your poem. ‘Tis the season, unfortunately. The stark picture you paint is the truth that so many refuse to believe. Preach, sister!
Tammi,
Wow, you really can get so much across with just a few powerful words. Thank you for sharing today.
Tammi, I think this poem is something that everyone should be considering now. You do a great job describing not only the loss of life during forest fires, but also the displacement of so many animals, humans, and other life forms. It is scary that these issues are still going on in the world and we need to focus on how to combat them in a proper manner! Thank you for your words, in a weird sense they made me feel hot as I was reading them futher and further, almost as if i was on fire.
Indiana
stars
field
fireflies
prairie night
breezy trees rustling
a child’s faint clarinet solo
Jeff,
I love all the summer feels of this poem, and I can hear the sound of “child’s faint clarinet solo”. We live in a community with a very strong school music program, and I often hear music filtering out of open windows on my summer evening walks.
Jeff, I feel as if I’m right there in the prairie night, hearing and seeing right along with you. There’s something so magical about fireflies. I love that you tie them together with the stars. The placement of the child playing in the backdrop puts nature front and center and still grounds humanity.
Jeff,
I was absolutely loving the wonderful Indiana descriptions, but then I got to that last line and sweet emotion hit me.
Hi Jeff,
First, is this Jeff Pierson from LAUSD and Writers Anonymous?? If so, welcome! I hope you stay awhile! Lots of fun and encouragement, ideas, and opportunities too!
Your poem is a soft sweet song! It leaves me feeling as if I’m lying on a cozy blanket watching and listening, embracing the warmth of this special moment.
🌳🌙
Yes, it’s me. It’s good to see you here.
I’ve posted occasionally in the past, but hope to become a regular contributor.
A clarinet solo juxtaposed with those beautiful summer sounds feels so right here. Dare I say natural?
Thank you for this beautiful image of the prairie night, Jeff! We have just been talking with my husband about fireflies, and I come here to read you poem. What a nice coincidence!
Jeff, thank you for these vivid descriptions: “breezy trees rustling / a child’s faint clarinet solo.” Such a tranquil image!
Oh, Jeff.
Your poem is a mirror for me. Living in Iowa, I share these sensory moments. My children are now grown, but I KNOW the child’s faint (French horn) solo!
You are living as a poet That is, you are paying attention. Thank you for this gift of words and memory.
Hi Jeff,
As someone from the Midwest, I truly believe there’s nothing like it anywhere else! Peace and tranquility with a small town feel, but big cities all a stones throw away!
I love the word “untruths.” Here’s my own poem with a cunning edge.
snake
skin
softer
than I’d think,
what with the devil.
she squeezes my arm, warm, too tight
Shelby,
I love the unexpected twist at the end of this poem “she squeezes my arm, warm, too tight.” A perfect ending!
Shelby, your poem reminds me of a field trip when we took our San Diego students to experience snakes at the Klauber-Shaw Reptile House. They, too, learned that much they thought to be true was not.However, in your poem, we’ll have to wait till the next stanza to see if this “snake” will cause danger or delight!Thanks for evoking the memory in such a theatrical way.
Ooh! Intriguing. I want to know more about this snake!
Shelby, I love the ending, the lulling of the “warm” and “softer” skin just before the “too tight” squeezing. Thank you for writing and sharing this!
Thank you for this cross-curricular challenge!
The Corgis
Ears
in
radar
position,
alert to the noise
of bird or beast or man at door.
I love the phrase “radar position.” I also love the last line, each quick little word fits together so well.
This is a fun poem! Your last line really makes me feel their reactions to everything that goes past the front door.
Katrina,
I love the way you’ve captured the personality of your dog, and love the image of your dog’s “ears/in/radar/position”.
Katrina, I’m with everyone else, I love the “radar / position” of the ears and the staccato rhythm of your last line! Alternating the start of each word between vowels and consonants is a very cool crafting decision: “of bird or beast or man at door.”
Katrina,
The visual you depict here is perfect! My dog doesn’t have “ears in radar position,” but she certainly is quick to alert me to the dangers of the breeze blowing the plants outside and any other imagined threat. I love my pup, but sheesh. Thank you for the smile your poem gave me.
Katrina,
Three dogs love to alert me to any noise outside, not just at the door. Thank you for sharing today
With four consecutive weeks of extreme heat advisories, it’s pretty much all we’re talking about (okay, complaining about) around here…
In
the
extreme
heat, Houston
is baking. Climate
crisis: bad news for the preggo
Oh, I know this is horrid to experience for all – but especially when pregnant! Best wishes. I love the look of the four syllable line – alliteration and comma.
Oh boy! I just got back from Miami and was struggling with the heat. Good luck to you!
Britt,
Sorry, about the heat. It’s horrible and especially bad for you “preggo”. Congratulations by the way! Stay safe! Cool wash clothes on the wrists and back of the neck always help to cool off.
Britt,
LOVE the use of “preggo.”
I can only imagine how challenging pregnancy during that heatwave is!
First off, so sorry you’re experiencing extreme weather. But most of all, congratulations!! I wish you a healthy and enjoyable pregnancy and I hope the weather improves soon.
Blue
Breeze
Water
Comes ashore
Cooling summer air
Makes anxious pupil feel at ease
Yes! That is the best tonic for anxiety, a ‘blue breeze’!
So calming, indeed. I love the blue breeze.
Very relatable in our last week of the semester 🙂
Traci,
The alliteration in your poem really works well to create calmness. I think I need to try some Blue Breeze!
Using Poetry for the Forces of Evil
or
Poetry in a Facial Sculpting™ Ad
Your
face
could be
Golden Mean
God-given Beauty
with the small help of a brow lift
i said this earlier, but this form is really bringing out some amazing poems that just get right down to it. I live that you brought in the Golden Mean, but the tiny help of a brow lift speaks volumes.
Thanks for this commentary slash reflection, Scott. The irony or oxymoron of the poem structure is perfect god-given brow lift…right? Our whole life we’ve been lifting our brows in facial expressions. After this lift, there’s no tell where our gestures will end up.
Lol! “Golden Mean” to God-given Beauty and a brow lift
Scott, I laughed out loud at this. The let down is tantamount to the build up. Perfect.
I love the play on words with Golden Mean, and the contradiction of “God-given” beauty through a brow lift. You fit so much into this little poem!!
Scott,
Weaving the Golden Mean together with Fibonacci is fabulous! My students discovered an app that will determine how close your own face is to the Golden Mean. What a crock–tip your face one millimeter one way or the other and you’re perfect or perfectly flawed. Love your poem!
I couldn’t help myself and wrote two–I love syllable count poems–both reflect my summer. I’m taking a graduate class (yep, quite crazy) and my yard is sizzling in the heat.
learn
grow
the way
to keep sharp
by honing the mind
never say enough is enough
***************************************
dry
grass
summer’s
prompt to us
so we remember
to appreciate all the rain
This is such a tempting form, isn’t it? They are both terrific, but the dry grass poem is speaking to me right now. I’ve been traveling most of the last few weeks and am itching to get outside and see what’s been happening in my absence in the yard.
Love these two contemplations. An invitation to ponder beside you is very welcome today.
I love the dry grass reminder!!
I hear a parallel with these two fibonacci poems – your ‘honing the mind’ with a summer class is, I suspect, “mental rain.” I’m so worried about all this heat and dryness this summer.
Yeah, I can’t stop from making more of these poems, mostly nonsense. You’ve reminded me to use it as a tool on my mind.
Cara,
Glad you are taking those extra classes because you like to learn. As for the dry grass I may need you to remind me during the rainy season.
Cara, perfect ending to both poems. It’s hard to believe that my lawn during winter and spring is so verdant while in summer it is so very beige.
Mo,
Another great inspiration and your mentor poem sure shares truth in short lines about fibs and lies!
You all know I struggle with economy and word or syllable counts. I need to teach my brain to work through line breaks. Arrrggghh.
Soul Healing
night
dreams
dark hours
slip away
space between heart aches
cracks healing while sun and I sleep
~Susan Ahlbrand
16 July 2023
Those last two lines really say it all. I love how you’ve paired yourself with the sun.
Susan. That title is gorgeous. Space between and cracks healing. Love these fissures mending during sleep and that the speaker is not alone in the healing.
Your poem brought me such a sense of relief and relaxation. I love the “and” that brings you and the sun together.
Adore every syllable of this, especially that dreams are healing.
Susan, I like your phrasing, “spaces between heart aches.” The healing nature of sleep which you describe reminds me of these words by Olga Tokarczuk in her book House of Day, House of Night, “Only sleep closes the old and opens the new – one person dies and another awakes” (31).
Thanks for sharing that quote, Katrina! Love it! We would all do well to remember that.
I like the cute idea of the sun going to sleep when you do. I wonder what it dreams about?
Love Thee
Once
love
was there.
Now only
the bittersweet thoughts,
and the memories of feeling
younger, freer, louder, smarter, bigger than right now.
what a progression in this tiny poem. It is so bittersweet!
This little gem tells a story. Love it. Thank you for sharing.
I’ve been thinking a lot about feeling “younger, freer” lately. Gorgeous poem!
Yes, this is so bittersweet – in just a few short syllables. Well done!
Love how in a few short words you take us into the depths of recovery from heartbreak.
Strawberry
White
petals
fall away,
white upside down
teardrop berry enlarges each day,
palest tint of pink blushes over young skin,
overnight maturity to a vibrant red announcing to the world “I am ready”.
i read your poem right after Rachelle’s. They pair together wonderfully. The more I read, the more I’m falling in love with this form. So much to say so succinctly!
I read your poem several times and made new connections each time. Cathy, this is gorgeous. Thank you for sharing!
“teardrop berry enlarges each day” – oh, how I love that!
I love the way your poem uses the from to mark the passage of time.
“overnight maturity” 🙂
Mo, this was really fun to play around with. Thanks for the invitation. I really liked how yours focused on a central concept with synonyms and then the ultimate impact of deception at the end: “but can’t be rolled back in”. Mic drop!
I incorporated some ideas from “Blackberry-Picking” by Seamus Heaney and mixed it in with my own childhood memories of a mulberry tree next to the swing set on my family’s lawn. It was fun to write about and remember, anyway! I also, turned it upside down!
Mulberry-Picking
the tree granted the only shade,
the fruit offered sweet
flesh. my hands
sticky,
stained
red.
Rachelle, what a fun spin (literally 😉 ) on the Fibonacci structure! I like the imagery of mulberry-picking and have similar memories of my own childhood with all the berries in the summertime – the season you noted so delicately in the first line. Beautiful!
Rachelle, your flip makes me feel like I’m sitting right under that tree with you. This is a perfect childhood memory.
I adore this fibonacci form turned on its head, and the sweet poetry about mulberries –
sticky,
stained
red
Rachelle, your 20 syllable poem is rich in imagery. I can feel the cool of “the only shade,” taste “the sweet fruit,” feel “my hands sticky,” and see the “red.” WOW! And your poem grow like a tree. William Carlos-Williams-like!
Rachelle,
This is wonderful in that the flipping of the form makes a little shade tree! Nicely done!
Rachelle,
Sticky, stained, red reminds me of my summers picking strawberries in my youth. Wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing today.
Rain
drenched;
We’ve spent
time today
watching the sky fall
while wondering on the sun
Kevin, I love the way you juxtapose the large dichotomy of rain and sun in this tiny, compact poem.
Kevin- your words hit right on what I am doing ” wondering on the sun”- great line. I am wondering when it will show so I can get outside as the forecast predicted.
We’ve had a lot of rain in the Midwest, too. I just got home from a short walk with the dogs. Unfortunately we have smoke from the wildfires again today. We have been wondering a lot about the weather here. Love all the Ws in your poem.
I’m quite jealous as rain hasn’t made a presence here nor is it anywhere in the forecast anytime soon what with extreme heat advisories being our norm lately. We’re wondering on the rain…
‘watching the sky fall’ – an apt description of this wild weather so many are experiencing
Kevin,
I can’t stop visualizing…
What a beautiful image!
Widow’s Hand
You
Can-
Cannot-
become undone now,
I need our forever soul.
Clayton, the title of this poem adds such an impact to the way the rest of the poem is read. Thank you for sharing this snippet with us. The sense of yearning in the last line really sticks with me.
This is lovely, Boxer. The title along with the use of “our” really lacks a punch. A forever soul- just wow.
‘our forever soul’ – so beautiful
Ohh, you’ve grabbed my attention! I want to know more about the person you speak to! I want to know why the undoing is happening. I want to know if your “forever soul” gets to feel what you feel. Love this!
Mo, Your prompt invites me to write succinctly about our youngest son who was born in July. He was a sailor and among those who died during the Persian Gulf Wars. We remember Bob fondly as one who energetically participated in anything he undertook. As you’ll see in the photo, he had it, and now, as the poem portrays, we believe he’s still using that energy to entertain in another place and time. Yes, we miss him, but delighted to imagine him in a better place.
our
son
always
on the move
no longer with us
He now is leaping in heaven
Anna, I want to thank your son for serving this country and his ultimate sacrifice! While his death is tragic, my heart is warmed by your fond memories and ability to see past grief into his being in heaven. Thank you so much for sharing! ❤️
Anna, the poem might be succinct, but the energy within it bursts forth and energizes all who read it. Thank you for sharing Bob’s lovely spirit with us today <3 Sending love!
“He now is leaping in heaven”- this line was so powerful. Your poem shows that our energy continues beyond our time on earth. My heart hurts for you at the loss of your son.May his energy bring joy to the heavens.
What a beautiful tribute- leaping in heaven. I’m sure this poem brings you comfort, but it also helps all of us who have lost a loved one. I’m going to start a slide show in my head of my loved ones doing their things in heaven. Thank you!
This is unimaginable, forever and ever loss; I’m so sorry. What a precious photo – and an added beautiful image through words, “leaping in heaven.”
FYI – This photo was taken BEFORE AI photo manipulation programs. He really could leap like this! In fact, it was this skill that got him two college scholarships! Unfortunately, he joined the Navy before completing college, but he did well there, too. We’re fine. And thanks for your condolences.
Anna,
Thank you for sharing your grief and faith with us. The joy your son lived with and has taken to heaven are a great model for others. He gave the ultimate sacrifice and I appreciate him and your family so much.
I love this so much, Anna! I’m picturing your beloved son “leaping in heaven” with all the glory of God around!
💙
Mo, you are taking such good care of us with your prompts! I always love a syllable-counting form. Keeps me from straying off too far. I love the reminder at the end of your poem that lies “can’t be rolled back in.”
I have attempted (with some success) to rest as much as possible this summer. As you know, I’ve had two years from hell at work. Last year almost sealed the deal and sent me into early retirement. But thank God, my admin was moved to another school and my hope is that whoever is next will LEAD with love! Sorry for the rant but I just thought it was a good time for an update.
I read Tricia Hersey’s book, Rest is Resistance. Right now it’s on sale for $4.99 on Kindle. I also have her Rest Deck. The deck contains 50 cards to help with rest practice. If anyone is desiring to slow down more, I recommend her book and the deck.
Rest
while
summer
breezes blow.
Inhale, exhale, pause…
Seek the ebbs and flows of freedom
ⓒStacey L. Joy, July 16, 2023
“Seek the ebbs and flows of freedom”- your line just made me look at summer break with new eyes. The freedom to ebb and flow as I choose is priceless.
Stacey, it can be so hard to relax. Thank you for using such beautiful words to remind me to take a deep breath and pause for a second.
Thanks for the recommendations and reminders, Stacey. Even the sounds in your poem are relaxing. Nicely done.
Gorgeous fibonacci poem, Stacey! I have heard wonderful things about Tricia Hersey’s book. Love your last line, especially.
I hope, too, that your next administrator leads with love!
Such a sweet prompt that can be taken many ways, here’s what I wrote today:
You
wait
stop
whisper
I only hear you…
your voice a melted melody
Inside my head it spins around and round forever…
AW — such a phrase “your voice a melted melody” and then that last line. Melody feels like a positive connotation, but then the “spins around” and “forever” make me wonder if it is an always welcome melody and if the “melted” means it may be distorted. Lots to ponder here.
Sarah
A.W., so much to love and hold closely in so few lines! I picture a new love between two beautiful souls.
🩵
AW, those last two lines are spectacular. A melted melody spinning around forever. Wow.
“I only hear you…” – what a delightful small poem this is, a treasure for this loved one with the melted melody of a voice.
Mo,
I pulled this from a trip to church today. I like the formula poems, they flex different creative muscles.
HEAVY LIFTING
Faith,
hope,
and love,
the greatest
of these three, we know…
resides outside our comfort zone.
Rex, yes! I love the Corinthians verse and the reminder that we must step outside our boundaries and spread the good news. The good Lord didn’t stay in his own circles – and I’m so glad he gets his arms around all of us!
Rex, wow, I love this! Perfect poem and message for a Sunday. The whole poem flows well and is truly relatable. Kudos!
What a terrific reminder, Rex. Let’s all try to push our boundaries.
Ah, yes! Outside the comfort zone, too often.
weeds
cut
obscure
nature’s truth
no shear nor poison
can quell its rooted existence
Sarah, another gem of a poem. Love the language and especially “no shear nor poison” followed by your final brilliant line! Magnificent!
This take on nature’s weeds is really nice. I love the start of the poem and how you used such sharp words, “weeds” and “cut”, then relaxed it with “obscure”, settling the poems flow lightly. Loved this!
Sarah, yes, “its rooted existence” is spot on. I’m also pondering “nature’s truth” in society today.
Lovely!
I love the sheer variety of topics today’s prompt brought out. Weeds are a lovely choice, pushing us toward a new perspective.
‘nature’s truth’ – such wisdom about weeds!
Sweet prompt, Mo! Just got home from a family vacation in Maine – let me include a photo…
Acadia TIdalpools
rock
beach
sculpted
by nature
ocean tides and time
vibrant life within depressions
Gorgeous picture and poem, Maureen.
That last line is stunning, calling up for me poems from yesterday that surfaced depression. Considering it alongside vibrant life is a comfort, especially when imagining possibility and agency in its sculpting.
Sarah
Maureen,
The photo adds about ten layers to the poem. Nice touch. Loving on the “tides and time” as well.
So beautiful, Maureen. Your poem could be a postcard.
Maureen, gorgeous poem and message! Thanks for sharing the gorgeous photo! Loved your final line!
Maureen, I’m in awe! I agree with Mo that this could be a postcard! Thank you for sharing this gorgeous photo and poem!
I needed your words today – vibrant life with depressions. Even though I am walking through a difficult time (my own depression) I can still live fully and vibrantly- enjoying what I can control. These words really impacted me and I needed them today. Thank you.
Your words are a gift to me, as well – thank you. A loved one “walks with depression” (I love your word ‘walking,’ rather than struggling or suffering) and I had them on my mind as I wrote my poem today. Truly, your response to this small poem touches my heart. There is vibrant life with depressions.
Mo, Thank you for this new poetry form today! I am right with you about things that
“can roll of the tongue
with ease, but can’t be rolled back in.”
I decided to go with the fun today:
Curious Minds
Who?
What?
But why?
Questions pour
When grandkids visit–
Curious minds conquer my heart.
Leilya,
Love this scene, this glimpse into the curiosity of your grands. This poem is just the perfect snapshot as there is no time between questions — just a poem drive by!
Sarah
Love it, Leiyla! So relatable, as I’m getting my grandsons for the week tomorrow.
Leilya, those grandchildren are so precious – I love seeing them on our Zooms when they are visiting you. They conquer my heart, too, with their little curious faces – – “who is grandma talking to?” they seem to be asking….who? what? why? I can hear and see it in their expressions.
Thank you, Kim! They are so curious and active too 🙂 They don’t visit too often from Cincinnati, OH, maybe twice a year, and I go a couple of times, but we chat via Viber or Skype–questions never end.
Leilya, I totally enjoyed seeing your grandchildren on zoom a few weeks ago. I could sense their inquisitiveness and energy. I bet they love your poem. Truly touching!
This ending is so sweet! The start is very uniquely written, love the repeated questions at the beginning, Carries the poem nicely.
Leilya, this is sooooo cute! My great niece has shown growing curiosity as she nears 3 years old. You captured the innocence of young souls so well here.
💛
Hi Mo!
Thank you for the introduction to a new syllabic poetic endeavor. I have never heard of the Fibonacci poem and am delighted by its form. For some reason, a vision of a Fruit-By-the-Foot snack manically unrolling in a 1990’s ad came to mind when I read your poem (an image I have not thought of or encountered since, well, the 1990’s. Here is a dose of nostalgia for my 90’s friends: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CGZZWHO93E).
Lies can be sweet as sugar, no? But as you said- they “can’t be returned.” A reminder so many need in this day and age.
From Death to Wife: an Adirondack Fibonacci
Love
Grief
Your voice—
Each haunt me
With delicious truths,
A new life amongst the mountains
Rhiannon,
That “each haunt me” is striking as I think about love and grief as separate entities capable of haunting. And that last line has me wondering if love and grief follow to the mountains.
Sarah
Rhiannon, thanks for demonstrating how differently poetry can affect us! I love your phrase delicious truths and the dualities you’ve expressed in so few words.
Even though this is a quick read it felt like a story all in six lines, I loved how you switched from different points quickly and “delicious truths”, love that line so much!
Oh, Rhiannon, I’m letting this one sit with me. Thank you.
Too Short Summers
Why
end?
Summer —
just getting
started this weekend.
August is too soon to start school!
©️Jennifer Kowaczek July 2023
Mo, thank you for bringing the Fibonacci from front and center today. This is one of my favorite forms.
I hear you, Jennifer! It seems like there wasn’t a minute without doing something for work. Hope you’ll enjoy what’s left of summer. Thank you for sharing!
Jennifer,
I am rather haunted by the pace of a teacher’s life and this myth of summers. I always feel like once August comes around we hold on for dear life, sometimes white knuckling to June only to do it all again. Your poem has me wondering about this and how we can make a teacher’s life more sustainable. And also…yes, let’s hold onto July!
Sarah
Agreed! Oh, my goodness, yes. I go back on contract tomorrow……far, far too soon. I don’t want it to end, either. I’m having too much fun traveling, watching baseball games, counting birds, reading, writing, walking dogs, sitting on the porch in the early morning with coffee and not having to get dressed and be somewhere, quilting for a new grandbaby, writing postcards, eating coconut cream pie, cleaning and organizing, camping, ……..yes, it’s too soon. I love your beginning question!
I love the direct address in your poem, Jennifer. That august dread is real. I recently left my job and don’t have anything lined up yet. I find myself constantly wondering what it might feel like not to be ruled by a school calendar.
I 100% agree and I’m wishing for the times when school started after Labor Day! I still can’t fathom why we start in August. It’s dumb!
Enjoy these final days of rest and recuperation! We need it.
Jennifer, I love how you capture the way summer just seems to slip away so quickly. Very relatable poem!
Mo,
thank you for the fun and inspiring prompt. I like the play on the fib poem about fibs. And, as Jennifer said, such a perfect form for writing about the endless and ongoing effects of lying. This summer the birds have taken over our yard and porch and I am here for every bit of it!
sweet
bird
rumpus
gathering
dissonance of praise
consonance of contrasting calls
quail, jay, thrasher, finch, oriole, dove, woodpecker, wren
dozens assemble on our porch
bird feeders times four
emptied yet
again
sweet
birds
Denise, I read your words as I listen to a “consonance of contrasting calls” outside my own windows in the Adirondack Mountains. I love the naming of species (as well as your use of the word “rumpus”—a fun word not used enough!)
Denise, I watch the birds’ “rumpus / gathering” by our feeders at times, though not so many different kinds.
I love the effects of “dissonance of praise / consonance of contrasting calls.”
Your words so clearly describe the sounds.
First, so appreciate you circling back to the late night poems of yesterday to be a witness and listener. You are so generous a presence here.
And I love this rhythmic collection of sounds and images bouncing down the page — the calls of the birds, the feasting at the feeder. Ah, love it all.
Sarah
Denise, you had me at birds. I love the consonance of contrasting calls. We refill our feeders nonstop, too!
Denise, I need to frame this one! I love it so much. We are bird feeding folks, too – – always heading two counties over to buy the seed from Pike Nurseries so I can get the kind that brings a wide variety of birds. I so know the multiple birdfeeder syndrome. It’s the best syndrome available! Perfect lines, and I love the way your shape looks like a bird in flight.
Denise,
I think the format of the poem seems to capture the birds verve as they converge on the feeders and disappear as the food disappears. It is a daunting task to keep those feeders full!
Denise, I love the sounds of all the birds and how you’ve catalogued them here. Rumpus is one of my favorite words and a perfect descriptor of all these birds. Wonderful reversal here, too! Fantastic poem!
Hi Mo!
Thank you for this prompt. I’ve written Fibonacci poems previously and find the form to be calming. I’m not a math person, but following the sequence requires a certain quiet calm to find just the right combination of words to fit the syllable count.
I attend a large church (Willow Creek) and last spring my section began weekly Pickle ball at the church. I haven’t been truly connected with the church and this opportunity has led me to new friendships. And that’s led me on a new journey with my faith.
Faith Journey
God —
Life
giving.
Exploring,
Growing faithfulness.
Bible reading sets my day right.
JenniferKowaczek July 2023
Jennifer, I appreciate the word “journey” within your title as faith is a constant journey in our personal lives, whatever that may mean to each of us. I am also drawn to your use of “exploring.” It is such an active word, promising newness, reflection, and an openness to what is discovered. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Hi Jennifer. I think this format helps demonstrate your journey. Your ing verbs are great for that, too. Thanks for sharing about your growth.
Jennifer, the second and third lines are so rich and deep (as well as this whole poem, but let me explain)… I read it like God is Life itself, God is also giving, and He is live giving – and He truly is all three. Thanks for sharing a piece of your heart and your testimony!
Your spirituality shines through strongly in this poem, Jennifer. Your words are exact and powerful!
Mo, thank you so much for introducing this form. I’ve had a lot of fun playing around with words today. I tried to do a reversal poem that I cheated a bit with. Praying for love and peace for all today.
After the Bombing
I
hear
your voice
softly sing
like a distant dream
waiting for the world to change−yes
waiting for the world to change-yes
like a distant dream
softly sing
your voice
I
hear
Barb Edler
16 July 2023
Hi Barb,
I love your poem; your message in the first stanza is quite powerful. Turning your poem around, creating a true reverso (or reverse) poem, just adds so much.
I love everything about this poem.
Thank you,
Jennifer
Wow, Barb, your title keeps haunting me, as I read your beautiful poem. So much left unsaid, yet so much powerfully said. Beautiful.
Thank you for your poem today, Barb! I am so “waiting for the world to change–yes” that it hurts. I love how your reversed the poem. It works well and strengthens your longing for a better world. Beautiful!
Barb, the reverso Fib works perfectly here, this distant dream song of soft song. It makes me think of the hope we feel even after the tragedies that continue to grip our world, that come seeping through the cracks in the aftermath of all the bad…..the helpers, the people who restore our faith, who sing the songs and assure us that there are still good people. Waiting for the world to change, indeed. Love this!
So creative, Barb. What you did here is amazingly beautiful.
Barb,
I really got a visualization of this as a reflection in water, the way it is formatted as a reverse poem. That having been said, the refrain from the song really adds a layer as far as giving it a secondary life. The song is so positive, but bittersweet too.
Mo, thanks for this cool prompt! It exercised my ability to express myself concisely, and I loved your mentor poem.
I wasn’t sure if I should preface this with context, but I will by asking: Who else dreams about school during the summertime? 😉
Clean
lines:
Gestalt
of Teaching
is Summer Dreaming
of Possibilities for Fall
Juxtaposed with dreams of chaos:
Why haunted so, Brain?
Chaos, Fire
Madness,
Mind
Dreams.
Wendy, I always appreciated summer so much for all the dreams I had when fall and a new chance to begin a new year. I feel that emotional pull in your poem. I feel your conflicting feelings, the torment of wanting something perhaps unattainable. Powerful poem!
Wendy,
Oh, I can relate! Yes, there were so many dreams during the summer, and the contrast between “Dreaming of Possibilities” and “dreams of chaos” is so clear and true. I love the way the first stanza dreaming is capitalized. It gives those dreams greater importance. And I love: “Why haunted do, Brain?” I’m going to remember that the next time I wake up at 3:00 in the morning to my thoughts.
Hi, Wendy! Oh, how many times i found myself at the same point:
“Gestalt
of Teaching
is Summer Dreaming
of Possibilities for Fall.”
Yet, life brings in corrections, adjustments, and changes, so “dreams of chaos” happen. Thank you for writing and sharing!
Wendy, your question reminds me of my first-ever teaching partner way back in the 90’s. She was a Hilton Head Island native, one of 9 girls in a family of teachers, born in the house her parents lived in until the day her mother died, full of stories – as you can imagine! She often shared with me that she’d “get the nightmares” without fail a few days before each school year. Which is reflected in your last stanza- the chaos and noise and madness, the excitement of possibility with the reality of the never-ending buzz of the classroom. A perfect storm recipe for any successful school year!
Kim, I had a dream last night that inspired this — there was a teacher teaching with me in a classroom, and he had some kind of head covering that caught on fire until he threw it to me, and we extinguished it in a sink — so I was literally “putting out fires” in my dreams, haha! I know — such a bizarre dream.
Wendy, I think so many of us can relate to what you’ve expressed here. But hey, we have summers “off,” right?
Haha!
I’m in with a couple of contrasting fibs about hunting.
Hunched
hawk
perches.
Silently
and motionlessly
she waits for an unlucky lunch.
House
cat
stalking
the squirrels
outside the window.
He’s a lion…in his own mind.
Mary Lee, wonderful pictures! Loved the alliterative beginning in the first stanza, and the words, beautifully chosen, paint a vivid picture. Both, together, paint an ungentle but beautiful picture of the truth of nature. My husband, a biologist, never hesitates to point out that nature is nothing like a Disney movie. 🙂
Mary Lee, I love your verbs, the perspective, and the message of your cat believing its a lion! Striking poem!
Mary Lee,
Precious hunting poems. I smiled at your house cat, fully knowable in this small poem.
Mary Lee, thank you, for these images of “hunters.” Your house cat is adorable 🙂
To the victors go the spoils indeed! The hunting mindset and the ways we as humans see them in our wildlife and pets is both cruel and humorous at once. Your poem reminds me of my Schnauzer Fitz, the fiercest lizard hunter ever, who will do the trophy pose with his kill just for his mama every time. I love what you have done here to show us the pride and the clever skills of hunting from housecats to hawks. It’s as big as life no matter the hunter.
These are great, Mary Lee. I love the sound of unlucky lunch. The lion joke had me roaring!
Mary Lee,
As a fan of lunch, I loved the contrasting perspective of a link to it as unlucky, taken form the prey’s perspective. I have a stray cat in the neighborhood who waits under the feeder and has made it sorta a kill zone, real circle of life thing going on.
Mo, thank you for hosting us today. I love the short forms! Your fib is tooth-cutting truth! I was out way past my bedtime cheering on my favorite baseball team at Truist Park in Atlanta, and then sitting in the horn-blowing traffic where people were actually playing recognizable songs on their car horns when no one was able to even creep out of the parking deck for a lonnnnnggg time. I say all of this to say that this true fib is for you, Mo, my Illinois writing buddy. Cheers!
balls
strikes
homeruns
major leagues~
our Atlanta Braves
……..lost to the Chicago White Sox!
Kim, I love this — especially that last line with its loooong ellipsis! Also, I feel like your car horn symphony would make a terrific poem!
Kim, Oh no! I love how your poem opens so actively. I was surprised by your pivot. Sympathies!
Kim, as a Chicagoan, I feel your pain. I’m a Cubs fan.
Jennifer
Oh, Kim, I am so sorry, but this doesn’t make “Atlanta Braves” less courageous, right?
I like how you build up intensity before dropping it to ellipsis.
This really made me chuckle! So sorry/not sorry for your loss. I hope you at least had a fun evening.
The Braves were my dad’s favorite baseball team, Kim! He would be lamenting, too – I can feel the energetic root-root-rooting behind your lines just the same, despite the great poetic (if unfortunate) twist at the end.
What a fun prompt!! I love how you get to the core of a truth in a few short lines! I was reminded by the title Fibonacci about a parent who was convinced that school classes just weren’t engaging kids and she wanted to teach gardening. She taught a lesson on Fibonacci and nature, and got schooled by our students in how teaching is more than a cool topic- it’s hard! Her respect level increased greatly after that and we had a good time, ultimately.
The Art of Being a Guest Teacher
You
can’t
just waltz
in here like
we haven’t tried all
the tricks in the book already
Oh, touché! And good on the kids for calling her on her blind assumptions about the art and WORK of teaching!
Emily, this made me laaaaaugh out loud! What a great, tight, little poem that oozed voice!
Emily, thanks for sharing your back story to your poem. Loved the “just waltz”. So very true when teaching….it’s definitely no cake walk!
Emily, *snap snap* to all of this. I adore the solidarity between you and the students while also providing the opportunity for someone to take a walk in your shoes. Harper Lee would be pleased. Keep on keeping on!
I just love this, Emily! Thank you! Sometimes parents need a reality check too.
Mic drop!
Emily,
I really liked the speedy fluidity of the poem you have. It has a truth that has me nodding in affirmation before I even realize it has ended. Very conversational.
Mo, another great poem – it flows so well. The weight of each word (each syllable!) has such weight and makes an impact. That’s the true power of form. And how true it is that untruths and deceptions come so easy, whereas retracting them is nearly an exercise in futility…undoing damage being infinitely more difficult than doing. Once again my mind went in a thousand directions with this invitation; that in itself led me to this specific attempt. It is, in itself, an invitation. Thank you for hosting and for the fun of fiddling with Fibonacci! I decided to double the fun.
Hey, Ancestors
composed after a trip
to the home place
Come
sit
a spell
on the porch with me.
Tell me the stories of your life.
I don’t mind your being a ghost.
Just try not to rock
your chair
too
much.
Makes me want to accept the invitation and come sit a spell. “to sit a spell” feels so southern, so much like home to me.
This rings to true for me — I was just back home listening and listening to my elders!
Fran,
This was great! Love the shift that I felt in line 6! What a picture this painted.
Welp.I see I skipped the three-syllable lines. Alas. #backtothedrawingboard #math
Fran, it’s a new form. Defined by you!
Fran, what a fun poem! This seems to be a perfect mentor poem for a Halloween writing activity. Love how you’ve used spell that goes so well with ghosts and rocking chairs. Brilliant!
Ooooh, I love the front porch sit-a-spell stories and rocking. This is so you, the welcoming of ghosts to share the moments, bridging the realms of heaven and earth. Those angels are all around us, aren’t they? They have their ways, their wings always brushing our space.
Fran, I love how you’ve played with the form, just like you seem to be playing with that ghost! It sounds like a great trip!
Oh, I love it all, Fran! “Just try not to rock your chair too much” made me giggle 🙂
My Little Friend
Procrastination and Overachieving Blood
red
clot
sticky
make dissolved
hope it won’t remain
don’t forget Eliquis today
Emily, what a zinger of a poem! Acknowledging the dangerous clot and wishing it away…there’s a real fervor in this verse, for all the simplicity of the form. That’s power. As there is in medication that saves lives. This packs a punch!
Thank you
There is so much in your small poem. The dissolving of the clot that is necessary to sustain life. I wonder if this is for you or for someone you love.
It’s all me, looking at ‘lights out’ minute to minute. Remembering life is beautiful.
Holding your little friend in my thoughts today. Sounds like a little prayer.
Thank you
Emily,
Your description gave me the willies, as was your intention, I’d guess! Great choice of words for maximum impact!
Emily, you show your condition well through your poem. Loved the title which set this up perfectly.
Emily, I appreciate your poem, I had a very close call with blood clots.
Jennifer
Emily, I didn’t expect to read a poem on this topic today, but you’ve written about it eloquently and straightforwardly. I like the gentleness that surrounds such a serious thing. Best of luck!
Mo, once again you give me so much to ponder and inspire my writing. The lies that cannot be undone is such truth in your fib. I’ve been struggling with body healing lately, two steps forward, three steps back. Will I ever have my energy back? I didn’t want to be too negative and too graphic, but my body is in revolt. I am assured by the professionals that I am going to mend. Nothing “acute” as they say. Letting the title carry some weight.
Adaptation to a Body Post-Surgery
I
am
body
creation
adaptation coil
of trusting, loving, healing me.
Margaret, to me your poem is prayerful. There’s a sense of gratitude in it. Your lines about healing impart healing, as poetry and writing itself do so often. I so love what the “adaption coil” is comprised of.
Margaret, I love the line adaptation coil- it transforms the phrase mortal coil into a hopeful idea, which matches your theme of hope! What a beautiful piece.
Here’s an other heart for “adaptation coil!” And here’s to your “trusting, loving, healing” self!
Margaret, I loved the phrase “adaptation coil” — the “coil” reminded me of a snake, which seemed at odds with the rest of the language which was more peaceful, but which also painted you as peacefully coiled in upon yourself. Loved this.
Margaret, I love how your poem reads like an affirmation. Very positive healing poem!
Such quiet beauty in this poem, Margaret. I hope your journey gets you where you need to be soon!
Margaret, hope your healing is well on the way and your body knows how to get there. Love the word choices in your poem that end in such an affirmative way “of trusting, loving, healing.” If you like/believe in meditation, look up Marisa Peer. My friend suggested this just two days ago because I, too, am in lots of pain lately. I am not too much into such things, but just realizing that our body knows how to heal is valuable. Hugs, Leilya.
Mo, the unfurling of the lies is the perfect theme for a fibonacci (love the play with fib too) as it mimics the continual spiraling pattern a lie brings. Your last line hits it perfectly.
like
curls
of an
ocean’s wave
a snail’s shell unwinds
nature’s fibonacci sequence
nice…this should be on a poster on a classroom wall–illustrated of course!
I love the simile of curls of an ocean’s wave, such a wonderful image.
Perfect science-poetry marriage here, Jennifer! I can see the images in my head – almost like an entry in a science sketchbook. The Fibonacci sequence in nature is endlessly fascinating to me.
Jennifer, I feel like I’m sitting out on a chunk of granite with you at the shore, feeling the wonder of nature in all its pleasing patterns! Lovely!
Jennifer, loved this simile!
Jennifer, wow, I love your metaphor. This flows so artlessly!
artfully…and effortlessly…lol!
🙂
Just perfect, Jennifer!
Just a beautiful image, Jennifer, in the “curls of an ocean’s wave.” Thank you!
Those first lines have a great flow to the language.
sun
deck
summer
celestial
sunsets, sangria
too soon this season sails away
—Thank you, Mo for hosting and guiding us through this form.
Stefani, you’ve captured both the relaxation and fleetingness of summer (much preferring those first five lines as I’m counting days til school resumes). Lovely sounds here with all the soft s.
I’m in! What a great capture of the here and now.
Makes me long for a trip to the beach, watching the sun set or rise, sailing into the day with a sangria. Hmmm!
Thank you for this reminder. A reminder to take care, relax, and ponder.
So lovely, Stefani – and so utterly refreshing and sadly true that the season sails away too soon :O -We must savor while we can!
Stefani, loved all of the gentle alliterative “s”es in here — and I so agree!
Yes, too, soon it is gone. Beautiful image here. It’s one I’d want to hold onto.
Stefani, I love your alliterative S sounds, and on my last day off contract (I’m officially back tomorrow), I want to reach for a sunset sangria today now that you’ve mentioned it……cheers to summers and seasons of life!
So simple, yet so evocative. So many of us can relate to the ideas in your poem.
Stefani, I am reading poems from the latest to the first, and this is a recurring theme! We wait for summer so long, and then it arrives and hurries away 🙂Thank you for your words today 🌻