Jennifer Guyor Jowett lives in the mitten state where she’s taught Literature and English for over thirty years. She is the creator of the DogEaredBookAwards, the author of a middle grade historical fiction Into the Shadows, and her poems can be seen stitched into Findlings. Jennifer is a frequent 5 Day Open Write and #verselove participant and host.
Inspiration
A recent writing conversation between a student and I led to our wondering what might happen if our grammatical rules suddenly didn’t apply to themselves. We tossed ideas around. We already verbify nouns, but what if nouns were verbs? What if colors described verbs, and adverbs modified nouns? The idea sat somewhere in my brain and would muck about on occasion. A recent exploration of the Poetry Foundation’s daily poems led me to discover Sherwin Bitsui, a Dine´ of the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. His poem River began, “When we river” and the idea of noun as a verb leapt into my brain once more, and the mucking began anew.
Process
Play with grammar. Change nouns to verbs. Change verbs to nouns. Use adjectives to describe verbs. You might begin with Bitsui’s line “When we… and add a noun. I found it worked to start with a couple of ungrammatical lines and add a few lines to ground the reader before playing more. Turn the rules on their heads. It’s ok. Really.
Jennifer’s Poem
When we highway
between birth and end,
our yellow moving,
blue moving, red moving,
our days minutes
our weeks days
in constantly motion,
month upon month
as years grow and pass,
a black crow in the fields of corn,
blinking our reflection,
there and gone,
heads a tilt,
wonders what he saw
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.
When we are closest
When we revive
a rusted out wreck
from the days gone by
When we scavenge
the yard for worn parts
like a puzzle to piece together
When we patch
those scavenged pieces
and like Frankenstein
revive something long thought dead
That’s when we are closest.
This was a lot of fun and so much harder than I expected! I definitely didn’t get it all right but this is such a great way to get kids to think and experiment with language, especially those that say they don’t know grammar rules! Thank you so much!
When passion passions
stops rotation pulls
and pulls pigs flying
knowledge surrender
each other unknowing.
Explode chasm red
your world only all
stars fall illuminating
tuble the words
shine the sentences
passion explode passions
world new again.
I accidentally posted as a comment, and I can’t figure out how to delete, but I thought I’d give this it’s appropriate space.
Man, I’m really
Ashleying today
End of night riding
Hatch sound wave
Race backwards to
The monster morning
Bones stretched, coffee
Life line brewing
Hand holding sponges,
Food packing into bags
Groaning boys stealing sleep
Weigh each item
Tell How Much Phe
My pretty pocket sidekick
For Miss Finley
I whisper to it
“How many grams?”
Praying to God
She follows the plan
Periflex waving back
Salsing in a shaker bottle
Wishing for a pose
When I tend to wobble
Doors yelling to us “You’ll be late!”
Man, I really Ashleyed today
Ashley, what a way to give credit to all that you do by turning yourself into the verb! And aren’t we all Jennifering and Susieing and Deniseing around on the day to day? Such a clever way to approach the prompt. My favorite line: “groaning boys stealing sleep” for both the sound and the image!
This was so much fun. I changed tracks three times before deciding to use colors as nouns (on the reject pile: food, timings). Thank you, Jennifer, for this wonderful challenge. I love how your poem starts – “when we highway / between birth and end…”
Here goes mine:
When I purple,
My blue and red rage,
My sad and my mad Gatsby.
When I pink,
My Madame Curie tiaras,
My glitter bombs.
When I brown,
My love chocolates,
My anger coffee-toffees.
When I blanc,
My mistakes darling,
My happy air-fries.
Saba, I love that you chose to continue verbifying the colors throughout. This would be a great way to push paintchip writing further. I adore the purple stanza, how both “blue and red rage” and “sad and mad Gatsby” get us there. And the “coffee-toffees” as a verb is lovely to say and see.
What a lovely interpretation of this prompt, Saba! I can see using this form with students in my classes and having them make connections with the stories we are reading or even people or characters they know from their lives (family, movies, celebs, video games). What a great idea! “My happy air-fries” – ha! My husband is trying to convince me to get an air fryer : )
Saba, this was great fun to read! I laughed out loud with sheer delight at some of the imagery. A brilliant, glittering poem!
Phew! This was challenging Jennifer–but fun! I decided to play around with geology words to go with today’s exploration of Valley of Fire.
Here’s my playground (aka poem)
Geo-Logic Logic
When boulders shoulder
Merging silica and limestone
Cross-bedding beehives of red
Sand dunes of dinosaurs
Mountain into fiery geometry
Geo-logical equations
Strata striate
Rainbows blasted in everpresent wind
Building hidey holes for whack a mole
Cryptobiotic soil
Gardens Cyanobacteria
Micro nourishments for life below the surface
Mind muddled, brain baffled
Geologic time unfurls
A spectacle of wonder
For images to go with the words, you can check out my blog
https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2023/04/04/geo-logic-logic-npm23-day-4/
Kim, I love when science and poetry come together (although they really are similar). I want to make a list of all the lovely phrasings you created: Geo-Logic Logic, boulders shoulder, sand dunes of dinosaurs, strata striate, hidey holes for whack a mole…” but you can see I’m listing the whole darn thing! You’ve brought poetry into science and it is perfection!
I feel as though I have entered another world through your words – and the images are a bonus! I would love to visit that area someday (retirement dreams). This is such a great approach to connect with STEM. There used to be some wonderful literary magazines that focused on the sciences, but also now some that are environmentally themed. This kind of writing would fit right in with their work.Thanks, Kim, for the mental and visual field trip!
Kim, I loved the mind-blowing, language-bending imagery in this!
Thank you, Jennifer! This was a total challenge for me, but I LOVED how your poem turned out, and I want to come back to this prompt in the future. Your last two lines “heads a tilt / wonders what he saw” is the perfect ending. Thanks for sharing!
Periwinkle Path
When we Periwinkle Path
we shoe on the cement.
Letting out the stress
of the day.
When we Periwinkle Path
we canal to the pond and
pond back to the canal.
When we Periwinkle Path
we mallard at each other’s jokes
we rain on each other’s fires
we blossom with each other’s successes
When we Periwinkle Path
we smitten the other
and our blushes redden
like they did as teenagers.
When we Periwinkle Path
we journey together
we cherish the metaphor.
Rachelle,
All of the little allusions you weave in are just lovely! Oh, that the weather would make that path a little warmer to walk this chilly April. You played ungrammatically with alacrity. 🙂
Rachel, periwinkle was my color last year – couldn’t stop buying things in that shade! Love your poem, especially the lines…
Rachelle, I can hear the mallarding and see the rain and blossoming in that third stanza so clearly. And how beautiful it is to “smitten the other.” It’s such a lovely image and gesture. The flip-flopping of canal and pond brings those two water bodies together in a way that niggles at my brain and rests gently there too.
Rachelle, loved the twinkling feel of this poem. Loved this!
Rachelle,
I’m 100% positive I wrote up a response last night… Guess I created on in my head but never wrote it out. You make me want to see this Periwinkle Path. Letting the stress of they day go, is so inviting. Thank you for sharing.
Man, I’m really
Ashleying today
End of night riding
Hatch sound wave
Race backwards to
The monster morning
Bones stretched, coffee
Life line brewing
Hand holding sponges,
Food packing into bags
Groaning boys stealing sleep
Weigh each item
Tell How Much Phe
My pretty pocket sidekick
For Miss Finley
I whisper to it
“How many grams?”
Praying to God
She follows the plan
Periflex waving back
Salsing in a shaker bottle
Wishing for a pose
When I tend to wobble
Doors yelling to us “You’ll be late!”
Man, I really Ashleyed today
oops! I accidentally posted in a comment somehow!
Jennifer, thank you for hosting and for this fun and clever prompt for wording.
sometimes haiku-ing
?a time of waste, finger counts
in boxed ?wrong or right
Stefani – perfection! I love the mixed syntax and the verb-ing of “haiku”!
Stefani,
I could not write a haiku if I had no fingers to count. Playful placement of question marks.
Stefani, your blend of ? marks with the words adds to the ungrammaticalness of your work. And all that finger counting! Yep. I’ve been there too.
Haha! This reminded me of how my students approach haiku sometimes when they first encounter it… 🙂
Stefani,
Haiku as a verb is perfect!! I’ll be honest, I no longer finger count, I’ve moved on to online syllable counters. Tech for the win.
Jennifer,
Love the prompt! Nouns always make the best verbs and I was able to work out some frustrations tonight writing through the prompt. Thanks!
Navigating the Seas of Financial Aid,
when your daughter got into her dream school
(but your CSS profile is incomplete!!!)
College Boarding scramblified my brain tonight.
CSS Profiling defiled my profile and
I’d be CSI profile worthy if I could find
the neck to be wringed that
cluster-ffff–finagled this website/
Crimesite!
The stealing was untimely
that hourglassed my blindly searching.
The fumbling. The frustratingly. I futility
forward. For hours. Four hours.
Finally handshakes finished.
I financialed my life’s worthiness
in a Send-clicking prayerful.
Bottle-messaged hopes into the ether.
Send Aid. Before promise drowns
in waves of debt.
Dave, thank you for sharing this frustration through this poetic form. Your words “send aid” is my favorite play on words here. Thank you for sharing.
Dave, this is wonderfully frustrating, if that makes sense? The alliteration, the verb-ifying, and the overwhelming threat of a deadline all combine to create a hopeful yet frantic tone. The last stanza is so clever. Thanks for sharing!
Dave, I don’t mean to laugh, truly I don’t, because I can imagine the frustration and time-suck this has caused you but you have managed to make that horrible situation into a word-wonder. Might it all have been worth it if such creativity was the result? Even just a wee bit? The last three lines of your first stanza and the “For hours. Four hours” and “financialed my life’s worthiness” and (ok. I could just quote the whole darn thing when IDing my favorites!).
Awwww. What a nightmare to have to wade through. Makes it tough to imagine how folks with less experience in these systems manage it. And what a lucky kid to have your persistence! Great jumble of word usages, all the f-ing alliteration is appropriate, to be sure! Yeah, wonderful poem, but sorry experience!
Dave, this was hilarious! Loved, especially:
“I financialed my life’s worthiness
in a Send-clicking prayerful.”
As a parent who has just been through this (well, let me be honest–by husband took the financial aid lead…)…and witnessed the frustration…I can relate.
Jennifer–I love to talk with my students about playing with words, and this was it! Such a fun way to use my brain and stretch in a way I haven’t. Thank you.
Night Kitchen
When we cobbler
Flour sugar nutmeg peaching coat
Butter flour sugar crusting knead
Last night we went old school
No processor fooding
Just the rock of a knifing cut
Just the stir of a wooden spoon
Tonight we memory
Grandma’s apple peel a yard long
Arthritic knuckles knock a crust fancy
Her sing laughing
Brenna,
Um, yum! Love these lines:
Brenna,
I hope my grandchildren will some day bake with their families and remember me. The memories we are creating during the holidays when they bake with me.
Breanna, your title hooked me—I have a real soft spot for the Sendak book. I love your first stanza.Yum. “Peaching” and “crusting” are perfection—I struggled with the food nouns since so many are verbs too, but your play with words is perfect. Also, “Tonight we memory”—yes, why we make food with/for/because of our loved ones!
Brenna, thank for sharing today. I love the thought of one’s “sing laughing” and how much joy it can bring to those around them.
Oh, Brenna, that last stanza warms my heart. What a gift of a memory to memory. I can see the length of the peel. And those two new noun-verb combos in “arthritic knuckles knock a crust fancy/her sing laughing” somehow feel exactly right. This is beautiful, truly beautiful.
“Tonight we memory” felt so definitive and like a declaration that you would without a doubt be doing something precious.
“When we Sport”
When we sport
we active our bodies
Pickleballing,
Aqua Zumba-ing
Bicycling
Health getting starts
when bodying moves
are daily parts,
funning with friends
or solo-ing for meditate.
Jennifer Kowaczek April 2023
Jennifer, this was a fun prompt but very hard to execute! I enjoyed the challenge and thought about my poem throughout the day. It was quite a challenge, but I was able to put something together. I’m definitely going to explore this prompt some more throughout the month.
Jennifer, what I’m finding to be fun about writing and creating these ungrammatical poems is the ways in which ungrammaring reveals new meaning and posibilítese. The phrase “we active our bodies” and “when bodying moves” do something really interesting—but I am struggling to explain! Maybe it’s the passiveness; we become a separate entity from our bodies. It’s a neat effect! Thanks for sharing!
Jennifer, your topic is making me think about this prompt today was its own form of sporting…stimulating our brain in a creative/critical sense. Thank you for sharing today.
Jennifer, the thinking you did throughout the day produced a wonder! It’s a joy to see how these ungrammaticals come together to make so much sense when they really shouldn’t. And all parts of your poem works so very well. “We active our bodies” and “when bodying moves” are highlights. Something about the verbs and the activeness of your topic combine perfectly.
Jennifer, I was surprised at how much selfish fun I had with this. I don’t know if it will make sense to anyone else, and that doesn’t even matter. You gave me an invitation to unverb! Thank you!
Tomorrow we will anniversary
thirty-nines
Each year deserves plurals
of prepositions:
with
against
under
near
for
beside
within
without
Who/whom
understanding
a/the/those/our
confuse
mixed of lived
mistakes grammatical
spelilng
dictionarying
on-holding
onholding
We have-was writes
ourselved
ourfamily
eachothered
outward into a
living
holding
Happy anniversary, Allison! Indeed, everything “deserves plurals” to tell about 39 years together. I wish you many more! I love your witty use of grammar, especially the final stanza:
”We have-was writes
ourselved
ourfamily
eachothered
outwward into a
living
holding”
Thank you for sharing your special event with us!
Hi, Allison! Happy Anniversary! There’s a lot of history in the words you chose. The “holding” words keep pulling me back into the poem for another think. It’s surprising how much history is conveyed in the prepositions. Thirty-nine years is a heck of a lot! Hugs, Susie
This is amazing! I really love that second stanza. You gave me (the reader) space to finish those phrases and they are all full of the power that you invest in them with the history of 39 years. Happy anniversary!
Allison,
Happy Anniversary!!! I enjoyed your fun playful poem. I agree each year deserves plural.
Allison, I had as much fun reading your ungrammaticals as you had writing them! Dictionarying is delightful! And I love the physical difference between “on-holding” and “onholding” and where it takes my brain as I compare the two side by side. Happy, happy anniversary thirty-nines!
Hi, Jennifer! Thank you for this unique prompt, which is both challenging and fun. I love your metaphor for life. It is so true, we “highway between birth and end.” I am teaching a course on advanced grammar this semester. I should try this kind of writing with my students.
Here is my little exercise with “ungrammatically grammatical.” It took a minute to tame.
When We Friend
When we friend,
We coffee and story,
We share the lived—
Preciously moments,
Grievously times,
The experienced, the unknown,
The far, and the imminent.
We invitation and celebration
Small and grandiose
achieve and progressing.
We choice and practice
To heart and conversation,
Staying in connect.
Leila, I melted into your words and sentiment! This was a delicious prompt: both to writing and to reader. I may abandon grammar altogethering!
“achieve and progressing” captured the essence of both.
I now want to end every email with “Staying in connect”!
Thank you!
Leilya, what an incredible opening to your poem:
You really create a great sense of rhythm throughout with your parallel structure, but you had me at “when we friend, we coffee and story”!
Leilya,
Brilliant poem. Love turning friend into a verb and seeing all those nouns verb ivied to characterize friendship,
Leilya, I want to friend with you! The nouns you chose to become verbs are lovely. I simply love “we choice and practice to heart and conversation, staying in connect.” We should all put to practice the concept of staying in connect, an idea lost in today’s world. Thank you for your words.
Jennifer, thanks for the mind-bendy prompt today! I was surprised by how hard it was to allow myself to break out of the confines of grammar and feel that I should practice this freeing more often.
Mealing Time
When we food,
We taste
sunbathing, flourishing,
thriving, curing,
ripening, browning.
When we food,
Tarragonned broth velvets as
garlicking oils ocean,
Saccharined pastry treacles in
Confectioning caramel creep.
When we food,
Exquisite eat
Decadent devour
Cherubic chew
Bodacious banquet
Awesome attack.
Laura, I love the food direction you took–it created a piece so rich I could almost feel it in my mouth. “Tarragonned broth velvets” crafts a precise image; I love the whole stanza. My mind, too, went to food as a place to play in this way. Thanks for this delight.
Oooh! Fooding is my thang! That middle stanza is delicious with all the broth velvets and garlicking oils ocean. Even the spelling of tarragonned is sweet! And I love that title too.
Laura, I just love what you did with your poem—soooo delicious! It made me hungry. 😊
Some of the wording is especially attractive: “Bodacious banquet,” “garlicking oils ocean,” and “Convectioning caramel creep.” Thank you for writing and sharing!
This was a challenge. I was not gonna let it pass me by without a try.
Thanks for stretching this writer.
meetingwhen we meeting
around students and table
long talk about frying nuggets
too much to say about so little
when we meeting
in a small room
students and teachers
pencils scribble sounds on the page
scrawl ideas that tangle in letters
a voice brings to clarity
a second tries to untangle
a little later
alone quiet table
ideas drawn across one large sheet
a start a stop
slowly sticky notes shingle the page
ideas curve to connect
and start
Jamie, this encapsulates everything that writing is! The talking and settling, the scribbling sounds and tangle in letters, the ideas curving in connection. It’s the whole all in a concise, beautiful, sensory bite. Yum!
Wow! My favorite stanza is your last…such rich imagery in “slowly sticky notes shingle the page” (they really do look like shingles, don’t they?) and “ideas curve to connect.” I love the sense of moving beyond the linear into creative ways to connect.
I love the way you used “meeting” here and fleshed out what it really means in this form as you went. One of my favorite parts is the use of “tangle” in the second stanza. I also love the last four lines– “to start a stop” is circulating in my mind, making me think about the power of meeting to share ideas and get unstuck. Thank you for sharing!
Jaime,
I enjoyed this poem today. It truly feels like working with young writers, my favorite line is “slowly sticky note shingles feel the page” thank you for sharing today
I love the progression from conversation to “start.” “Ideas curve to connect” is such a perfect way to put that feeling you have while working through a piece of writing—they may overbend and fling everywhere or they may never find a meeting point. Thanks for sharing!
Your alliteration makes your poem come to life to me! I pictured writer’s sprawled across a room working away on their writing projects.
Jennifer,
This is such a dang fun prompt. I visited it and revisited it throughout the day and tried too hard to be clever. I didn’t want to miss a day of participating, so I just went with my first instinct. I will definitely be coming back to this!
Techno-babble
Technology sure brought
verbing nouns
into common vernacular.
The more we friend people
the fewer friends we have.
We text and talk and blog and email
but we communication far less.
We got Silicon Valleyed–
devicing people of all ages.
Scary will it take us.
~Susan Ahlbrand
4 April 2023
Susan, your first instinct was dead on. This speaks to the “techno-babble” we are immersed in. Fewer friends from friending and communicationing less are the sad truths of our time. Silicon Valleyed indeed. I’m so glad you posted.
Susan — Ah yes! We have been “Silicon Valleyed”! Perfect! I think that needs to hit the official lexicon! The foreboding tone of the final line really does give us pause. So good! Susie
Susan, there’s so much truth here! “The more we friend people / the fewer friends we have.” This feels exactly right!
So many cool verbs here! The second stanza is a mic drop, and I love the follow-up of “communication” as a noun in the verb position–it somehow expands and abstracts the idea of communicating in a really delicious way.
Susan,
Wow, so many truths here. The scary is what made me minimize my presence online–is privacy no longer valued? And yes, what happened to actual conversation?
Thank you, Susan! Your poem is so relevant, and I like how you bring out the reality of our techno-world. The final line is a profound conclusion.
Susan,
You had me at techno-babble. It really does feel like we have lost the art of have deep conversations as many have moved on to electronic forms of communication.
Jennifer Guyor Jowett, this was a very challenging process. But, I did it, and I didn’t die!!
When we reciprocity…
When we reciprocity
we cooperation together to the end
When we cooperation
we collaboration and partnership
When we collaboration
we concert in time and meter
When we concert
we joint and sinew strength
When we joint
we connection toward mutuality
When we connection
we relationship
When we relationship
we reciprocity
Anna! The building of stanzas, one upon the next, with the threaded words joining the stanzas, like a cumulative catalog really strengthens the “relationship” and “connection.” The “concert in time and meter” is beautifully crafted.
Donetta,
The circular nature of your poem is just delightful! You cleverly found ways to subvert grammar into a strong message of cooperation and, yes, reciprocity. Nicely done!
Donnetta, I love the construction of this and the connectivity that you embody through the repetition in the structure. The knock out stanza for me was “When we concert
we joint and sinew strength”. WOW!
Donnetta, I love this form and connection throughout!
Those lines reminded me of my word from 4/3 “ubuntu” and how togetherness brings strength.
🥰
The repetition of “when we” makes this poem incredibly reverent and almost like a prayer or hope for something to come.
how clever! Once again, I composed this poem upon walking the dog.
a Spot Named Dog
I dogged the walk
In the winding howl.
She squirreled a tree
And barked up the climb.
I limbed up lumber by lumber
Once ground on the back
With a dogged leash
I dogged the walk
Or did the walk dog me?
You are also clever, Katrina! This poem made me smile.
Oh, Katrina! Dogging the walk is just the best! But so is “did the walk dog me!” Having been walked by many dogs, I can relate. I also love “squirreled a tree” and “barked up the climb.” How fun and how clever!
Katina — You made me laugh. The final question… I know that question! We were both on dog pathways in our poems today. Fun! Susie
This was so fun to read. Brilliant!!
Oh my goodness! This feels delightfully “Seussian!” I found myself reading it several times over, more slowly, to really think through the brain ticklers you had in every line. This is such a great example of truly playing with language.
Katrina, you make this prompt look so easy!
This was a very fun poem to read.
Jennifer
CANINERY: CRITTERSPECTIVE
I’ve had all the dogsplaining
I can take for one day.
She testified:
Twere the pawdirts, so kerwiggly
in my zoomie socks,
mmm-mmah-mmah,
she smiled,
pleased with her dogtribution
to the mayhem of the yard;
She testified:
if you shrubbered the hill,
greened my Serengeti,
then I had to dozerball the slope,
Dogonism, it was there
so she dogsploited it;
Is she Dog-Kanting me
with her dogligation to herself,
not to me?
I crawl through the wormholes of dogthink
and come up woofing
myself back to bed,
the yard in dogarray.
alas.
by Susie Morice, April 4, 2023©
I love every single one of these plays on the word ‘dog’ – every twist adds so much insight into your dog’s personality. I laughed hard at “dogtribution/
to the mayhem of the yard” – that is an awesome word, dogtribution!
Susie,
You’ve doggoned to the canine club with this dogthink delightful diddy. Do you have a new housemate pawdirtying your lawn and dogsploiting your good graces? I do love thinking about you spoiling and companioning a new dog. And I adore this doggone good poem.
She’s adorable but such a puppy still.
Oh, Susie, she’s so adorable! 🥰
Susie, I had so much fun reading your poem! My favorite line is “I crawl through the wormholes of dogthink”. It captures the feeling of almost understanding (or at least thinking I understand) what my dog is trying to explain to me. Fun!
Susie, this is doggone purrfect! “Twere the pawdirts, so kerwiggly / in my zoomie socks, / mm-mmah-mmah, / she smiled, pleased with her dogribution / to the mayhem of the yard” This had me smiling, too!
This was such a joy to read. Your “dog” words were delightful and made me giggle a bit (dogsploited – love that one). And something about ending it on the word alas is so perfect – I can feel the resignation as the narrator woofs themself back to bed!
Susie, I love you and your wonderful, delightful, oh-so-fun-and-funny wordplay! The many invented dogwords left me smiling, much like what time spent with my own dog. Dogarray and dogsplaining are great but Dogonism is just the best!
Susie, what a wonderful tribute to your beloved dog! Your sequence the events in this poem so artlessly. Love your ending and “dogthink”! Your craft is always is awe-inspiring! Love it!
Susie, I missed your post yesterday so I circled back today. How fun!!! I see all of this playing out in my mind:
And who wouldn’t love a “dogspective” in a poem!
💙Love you and your poem and of course your dog!
Thank you, Jennifer Guyor Jowett, for the permission to write a poem grammatically ungrammatical. I really hope my students did not follow this prompt today when writing for the standardized test. However, I had fun reflecting on their stamina and grit.
Students MCASed today
Houring through 180 minutes
choosing the bestest letter-
a show of the knowledging
of the passed year.
Essaying so porfoundly
the reviewers are having to
pick their socks up
so impressed they are.
This is great!! “Houring through 180 minutes” – oh, yes! Love the ‘passed year’ and the interplay of meaning between passed and past, when it comes to such testing. And – “pick their socks up” – hahaha…I am imagining these reviewers in their laundry rooms. Great fun! I, too, hope your students didn’t follow this prompt from Jennifer, but your response is spot on.
“Houring through 180 minutes” perfectly captures that feeling when you’ve been going at something for far too long, look up at the clock, and realize it has only been 4 minutes.
I love the irony of writing a grammatically creative poem about students taking standardized tests! Fantastic.
Heather, I have been surprised by the use of the noun-verbs by writers today and yours is just perfect. Students do indeed hour through that testing time. How funny that your students were working to do their best grammatically while you were composing such a creative response ungrammatically!
Heather, WOW!!
“the reviewers are having to pick their socks up so impressed they are” – My favorite lines
Thanks so much for a fun prompt today. Turning grammar upside down and all around was really tricky for me. I tried my best! Enjoy!
When we cribbage
Cards whisper
Keep me; Toss me
Queens stand guard
Against your Jacks
Crowns and fives
Growing stack
Go.
I Dealer smile
The crib my friend
Buried fives
Add it up
Board pegs advancing
Across the table
Hands cover face
Fly cards
Skunked again
I Dealer smile
Jenny, you’re going to have to help me cribbage sometime (I’ve never tried it). The verbs choices against your nouns (cards whisper, Queens guarding) work so beautifully. And I love that repetition of “I Dealer smile” as I can see it happening. So glad your try turned out so well!
I want to learn how to play cribbage. Your poem makes it sound like such fun. I love “I Dealer smile.”
“I Dealer smile” – love this! Your poem cleverly involves the reader in the action of the cribbage game, the growing excitement of the play. Well done!
Love this topic and your use of short lines.
Fun description of a game. I like the personification of the cards. The response of the player. What a clever way to play ungrammatically.
Jenny,
I haven’t played cribbage in decades! You make me want to play it again. You create suspense and anticipation really well–the thrill of the game in poetic form. Play on!
My poem earlier today included cribbage too! Good times. Just wish I could hear those “Keep me; Toss me” whispers a little louder!
Me too Rachel! Sometimes it is just maddening! I hate when I turn down the perfect cards into the crib/kitty. UGH!
Your poem makes me want to learn to play Cribbage.
Thank you so much for today’s prompt. I’ll be honest I struggled with this prompt. I didn’t quit, I found something to write about. I’m not 100% happy with what I’ve come up with, but I don’t think there is anything else to add. I’m glad I continued to work on this one.
When we book
Our minds expand
Vocabularies strengthen
Turns twist as spins swirl
When we book
Our world grows
Pages are passports to travel
Greece one day Cuba the next
When we book
Hearts expanded
Emotions are felt
Love, hate, passion, animosity
When we book
Experiences are endless
When we book…
DeAnna,
Yay! We both struggled, but we got it done! I like the image of booking–exactly why I read and teach literature. Adventures without leaving home, let alone the couch. Nice job!
DeAnna, we wouldn’t know that you struggled at all. And I love the idea of booking as a verb. I’d like to think of my students booking as well. They certainly benefit from the wonderful ways you suggest (vocabularies, minds, and hearts expanding!).
I love to book for all of the reasons you identify in your poem. I love your line “When we book experiences are endless.”
Love the repetition, “when we book” – great ideas to share with all students, I think.
DeAnna,
Using book as a verb was one of my early instincts. I’m glad I didn’t go in that direction because you really played with the grammar of it well with this!
You touch on beauty of reading “Turns twist as spins swirl.” “Passports to travel.” and “hearts expanded.” No wonder we book.
Yessss! I had “book” as one of my options too, but I’m glad you took it! You did a great job. I love the connection between this poem and your wanderlust one “Greece one day Cuba the next” 🙂
Oh, I mightily struggled with this one. My English teacher (and daughter of an English teacher) brain is grammatically hardwired.
Desking
Today I am desking–
bound to the papers
that were studented
by so many at so many
different times–rarely
deadline adjacent.
To word load young
minds is my toil of choice,
but the onslaught of
thought that a due date
is simply a suggestion
may be my last straw.
To recover from the last
few years of forgiving
long held rules and the
necessary practice of
a work ethic is what I
yearn for most heartily.
Today I am desking.
Cara! I feel this in my core!
The grace we gave during the pandemic has morphed into insanity in my neck of the woods. Nothing is ever mandatory other than state & district assessments!
I long for the work ethics too. We are working harder but don’t see the results.
Cara,
My English teacher assistant brain also struggled with today’s unique prompt. My favorite lines below make me chuckle. Thank you for sharing today.
bound to the papers
Cara, my teaching partner and I discussed this exact thing today! Word loading young minds is a choice but the subsequent work that follows (without the time to properly respond) is a task. Your choice to be “desking” shows us this perfectly.
I feel your frustration with these lines, the straw that breaks the camel’s back –
“the onslaught of
thought that a due date
is simply a suggestion
may be my last straw.”
Yes, “Today I am desking.” Seems like the perfect response – a kind of hiding-out, I think. Love the grammar fun of “studented papers”
Yes! I felt the frustrated tone from the very first line. Those due dates, man! If only *we* wouldn’t get penalized for late work!! Thanks for sharing this poem, and it turned out great. We will make it through, though there will be many more days of desking.
Jennifer, thank you for sharing this interesting and creative post. I had a lot of fun trying to create this poem although I’m sure it doesn’t make much sense, but I did have an idea I was trying to create. I have a lot of work to do, but time is limited. I really loved your poem, the colors, and especially the final line that came as a sort of surprise.
Solace River Reunion
if we rivered
pink gold light
CCR singing shore
shadows
dark pools skinnied
our full moons
buffing smooth topside
weave
world reign supreme
tangled digits clinging
waterfall firework drowned
joyously
Barb Edler
4 April 2023
Barb, you have placed the words together so that they sing. The dark pools skinnying and the singing shore shadows are simply lovely sitting within the surrounding words. I am able to visualize and hear your imagery (and it makes total sense to me!). Thank you!
Barb,
This is lovely. I have an image of your river view in a shadowy moonlit night in my mind. Beautiful image this “waterfall firelight.”
Barb — I’m amazed how you did this. I wish I had a video of you writing this…meta-writing and talking out loud about how you came up with each line. I love “rivered” right off… and CCR…takes me back. I love “buffing” and “tangled digits”… Wasn’t this just such a crazy fun prompt. It brought out the goofy in me…and yours is here feeling so serene! Susie
You have captured such a magical night – love especially “CCR singing shore/shadows” and all this done with a full moon. I can hear the bullfrog callin’ me!
Barb, what a wonderful poem. I love the sounds of all the lines. I would love to hear you as you write it too, like Susie said. I am picturing you and your hubby skinny dipping. (I hope that’s not blasphemous!)
I crocus and daffodil
Bloom and pollinate
I seedfly.
You potato and garlic
root and steady
You tether.
Together, we hybrid
here in our soiled world.
Haley, you invite us into spring in every line here. Seedfly is just a beauty of a word! And what a way to make this “soiled world” into a place that feels necessary and wondrous. Thank you for that!
Sweet signs of spring! 💐
Haley, your poem is a beautiful spring explosion of growth. I absolutely loved “here in our soiled world”. Fantastic!
I saw some of these same words when I went out a few minutes ago. It makes me excited to get our “here in our soiled world.”
“soiled world” and “seedfly” – gorgeous! Spring planting is underway!
Haley,
Not only did you use words uniquely, but your simple (but deep) three stanzas of I, you, we really works well. It makes such sense through somewhat nonsensical use of words.
Love the plant images you develop – the blooming pollinating bulb plants. “The potato and garlic root and steady.” Love ending of soiled world.
Haley,
I so appreciate the blending of opposites here: seedify (<3) and root/tether.
crocus and daffodil
vs
potato and garlic
A beautiful tribute to the power of opposites in “our soiled world.”
Haley,
What a lovely ode to spring. 💐🌺🌹
“blinking our reflection,
there and gone,”
so ethereal, the way you played with grammar! Thank you, Jennifer!
softly ever
cushionly listen
with chaised feet
noticingly beyond
singly birding
c’mere c’mere c’mere
intermittent streets jogging
ftap fltt ftap fltt ftap fltt
carpenterly buzz
beeing
dapple lighting
breezely felt
softly ever
I am porched
Maureen, your poem carries us through the sounds (the noticingly beyonds) of your space. I can hear every one so vividly (and love that so many wrote of bees today). The flip-floppery of your words (dapple lighting, breezely felt) adds a whimsicalness to spring. But I’m most in love with “I am porched.” It grounds us (and you). Delightful!
Maureen,
Thank you for bringing the sounds of spring to me on this snowy Tuesday where no bud, nor bee, nor blade of green peeps. We are couched and covered, but I long to be “porches” and to hear “softly ever.” I need vicarious living today,
Maureen, I can just hear these birds and imagine you enjoying the light of the day, the soft breeze with your feet propped relaxing. “I am porched”…I think this is going to be my new saying for when the day is done, and I need to just put my feet up to enjoy the day. Wonderful poem!
Love, love, love this and it should have a companion photo or painting!
Maureen — Wowza… “porched”…YES! The sounds are so, so effective. I want some “chaises feet” right now! “singly birding” made me smile. I think it is so wild that reinventing words and grammatics can yield such a clearly full-bodied sensation. Cool! Susie
Maureen, I can see you on your porch with chaised feet, enjoying the sights and sounds. It sounds like a loverly day.
When we legging,
varicose veins subside in spandex seams,
dimpled thighs fade into softened smiles,
and buttocks carry logos of the bikini industrial complex.
I notice when polyestering
overcomes cottoning:
the legging stifles breaths at the apex;
suffocating skin, drenching cracks
not meant to be nyloned so tightly.
But we still want to cover skin, be held in
in ways the fabric of our bodies no longer can
maybe never did zip up organs or
contour muscles into shapes
that defy nature
the illusion of keeping it together.
Sarah, Love the use of legging & polyestering. I varicosed in my early 30s from years of running…fun procedures. And the punch of the last line…The greatest news for this universe is that I am not expected, nor would I ever, were a bikini on the beach. Should that happen one day….well…I give #verselove permission to write those poems. Fantastic poem written from this wonderful prompt.
Can I smile at such a traumatic unelasticing of our skin? I marvel at your ability to describe the dimpling changing to smiles and that whole industrial bikini complex situation is a hoot! What would we do without this illusion? This is a brilliant poem!
Sarah,
Im here for “the illusion of keeping it together” but living the reality of letting it all hang out as I can co longer wear leggings or suffer through anything squeezing my legs. I long for the days of being “held in” and to “zip up organs” and to “contour muscles.” You’ve given me a glimpse into a past life usurped by skin thin.
Sarah, Sarah! You’re on a roll this week! Nothing is worse than moisture in the wrong places😂!
Sarah, “drenching cracks”…oh my, I’m laughing so hard. Love everything about your clever poem. “shapes that defy nature”…I so understand. Well played!
Ahhh, Sarah, this is great! Boy, do I hear ya! With all the crazy grammatical structures, it just blows me away how totally and clearly I am right there feeling the body age and sag and the clothing tugging in the wrong places and the wrong intensity. I love “zip up organs”… LOL! What a funny but doggone real poem… it resonates way too well. Ha! Susie
This is so fun – “we still want to cover skin, be held in,” yes, you are writing about “legging & polyestering” but I flashed on my college roommates and I lying on our beds or the floor (40+ years ago) to zip up our jeans, sucking in and smushing up all the extra…we were ‘zipping up organs,” for sure! That final line – the illusion of keeping it together. Bravo!
I gotta say that I’m enamored with the phrase “bikini industrial complex” and I’m low key jealous that I hadn’t thought of that first! But, reading on, the last stanza and the last line are so powerful. There’s so much truth being told here.
Jennifer – this prompt provided quite the challenge this morning. Playing with words in such a unique way was by no means easy, but it was oh-so satisfying. I have been enjoying reading everyone’s compositions this morning/afternoon. I can feel the creative energy flowing on these pages.
You and I
When we dusk
we enter into the ether,
a perfect void.
Our teal intermingled
selves now electric in the
infinite harmony of this
temporary bliss.
When we midnight
we are fluid, unbound
by cells interlinked.
We sanguine drift
into that cosmic majesty,
fearless and dynamic
for we are still as one.
When we dawn,
the stars disperse.
We again become You and I.
James!
This stanza is everything! “When we dawn, / the stars disperse./ We again become You and I.”
I love the way you’ve taken an ethereal approach to the “cosmic majesty” of it all. You’ve created an existentially satisfying poem. Thank you.
Oooh! I can not decide which of these verbings I love the most. But you capture the ethereal wonder and “harmony” that happens when we dusk to dawn. That last stanza is a beauty with its dispersal of stars and disassembling of the We, allowing a return to You and I.
James,
I sat with that first line for a few breaths to savor it: “When we dusk”. Yes, that is the stuff of poetry, my friend. And then “teal intermingled/selves now electric” — love tat, too.
Sarah
Ahhhh, everything about this is sensual and alluring!
I love your choices, when we dawn to when we dusk!
Exhale.
Beautiful language and feelings throughout. I love the last stanza.
James — Now that right there is a dandy love poem. Dandy! Mmm-mmm! I think I’m needing some “dusk[ing]” and some “midnight[ing]! LOL! Cool poem! Susie
This is gorgeous. I adore,
James, not only do you play so masterfully with words, you play with time and essence. What a beautiful love poem with phrases like “We sanguine drift
into that cosmic majesty”
This is one for the books.
Hi, Jennifer! You made my day! I wasn’t sure where I’d go with it and then remembered my favorite made-up word from years ago: JOYLICIOUS! So here’s where it took me as I mentally prepare for summer break while enjoying spring break🤪.
When Joy We Be
Traffic light
weather clear
snacks ready
Joylicious
Bills paid
money saved
nothing lacking
Joydom
Morning sun
music playing
life good
Joyity
Pack up
label boxes
lock door
we be joying
joyward!
©Stacey L. Joy, April 4, 2023
Stacey,
Your play with words is marvelous! I particularly en[joy]ed the stack of little things that aren’t so little as the rocketed “joyward” in the last line.
Thank you, my friend. I only wish I didn’t feel awful in Anaheim when we met so very briefly. Yet, in the moment, I felt the closeness of our poetry bonding.
Much love,
Andy. =)
I know! So sorry you weren’t feeling well and we didn’t have more time to connect. But our poetry bond lasts! And how about this! I’m reading Poetry Pauses and who’s name pops onto the page, yours! I love that I have famous poet friends!
Much love right back at ya!
Stacey! You have made a whole dictionary of joy-filled Stacey Joy! I can’t decide which I’m most drawn to but love the idea of “joyity” and especially “we be joying joward” because of course we are. Your outlook brings me joy today on this cold, gloomy Eyeore-like spring we have in Michigan.
Who but Joy could incorporate her own name is so many correctly ways! Once again, Joy, you bringing we joy!
Love how you weave your name into all parts of speech as a way of being, Stacey Joy.
Hello, Stacey! Wow, you’ve got this format mastered! I love the words, the joy, the action. I especially loved “nothing lacking/Joydom”. Very fun and joyful poem!
Stacey — SUCH a happy poem! Joy indeed! There is a big sense of joy and relief that the ducks are in a joyrow! 🙂 Hugs, Susie
Joy! Such joy! I love every extra-licious syllable you have added onto joy there…especially,
“lock door/we be joying/joyward!”
I really enjoy that each verse ends with “joy” in some form or another. It’s like your poem is a testament to positivity, and that all things are (or can be) punctuated with joy. And the word “Joydom” has been rattling around my brain for a while now. I keep imagining some idealistic kingdom where, much like your poem, all things lead to joy!
James, I would love to be the Queen of Joydom! 😉👸🏽
Oh, Stacey . . . the words derived from your last name which also happens to be a versatile word are so very cool!
Stacey, the ubiquity of joy in your poem is a balm to me. Yes, joy in all things.
Joylicious, Joydom, Joyity, Joyward! Yes, to Stacey Joy, All Star! I love that last moment as you go on summer break: “We be joying / joyward!” Anticipating it with you, my friend!
Stacey,
I love your JOYLICIOUS poem!! All your different JOY words made my heart happy. I have a Joy at home and many of your joy words would describe my girl. 🙂
Thank you for the prompt. Many words popped in and out of my head but for some reason this one stuck. Not really sure why….
When we makeup,
oatmeal dabbing over purple under-eye circles
obliterating the tiredness from night,
feathering fair powder over chin and cheeks
peachy erasing of wrinkles and crinkles,
midnight wanding extending, thickening
wispy, just being eye-protecting lashes
mauve lipsticking the rounded curves
popping color unto a neutral canvas.
Why do we makeup,
why are we
scared to be
just the mature “me”
instead of the forever young one
the world pressures us to be?
Wow, Cathy, that is a great question. You make this grammatical ungrammatically look easy. I love “mauve lipsticking the rounded curves” and “feathering fair powder over chin and cheeks.” You chose a great topic.
cmhunter, thank you for your poem! Makeup- such a great topic for this play with nouns/verbs!
Cathy, I have just returned from France and I saw so many women who were without makeup (or who had very little on), and I wondered the same thing. Why can’t we just be? I imagine our lives would be much more authentic. Thank you for using your noun-verbs to wonder the same.
Well done! Your poem most definitely outlines the time we waste on makeupping! I wish I could stop it at least a few days of the work week and just show up all plain and happy😝.
The weekends deserve the plain old me but I won’t do it for work. I wish I could at least try. The funny thing about this age (59) is the makeup isn’t always helpful. Sometimes I look in the mirror and see nothing young and fresh but old and foldy with a colored shadow under the eyes!
Thanks for this poem!
I love the imagery. I quit makeupping many, many moons ago. It WAY TOO time consuming for me.
I enjoyed your poem about why do we makeup. I must say I makeup because it makes me feel put together, but I am also comfortable not makeuping
This is a fun prompt! And I’m going to come back to this a little later.
In the meantime, here is yesterday’s poem which I forgot to poet.
I took the idea of finding some words in a different direction; I used paint chip samples.
The words in bold are the paint colors.
In the brilliant blue,
move one hundred miles per hour
on elephant skin.
Reach the drama queen
Discover how to support,
give full attention.
Will an apple crisp,
combined with vanilla scoop,
provide some comfort?
Maybe not under
such a hot desert sunset.
Perhaps just listen.
Often when things are off,
all we need is a listening ear.
Jenifer Kowaczek April 2023
Thank you for letting me share this from yesterday
Jennifer, what a powerful way to remind your reader to give full attention, as we did in your poem with the found colors adding such interest. That first stanza is crushing the excuses I try to make for not being fully present and listening. I’m glad you posted it here, as it might not have had many readers if you posted it in yesterday’s.
Jennifer, I can see us moving so rapidly on elephant skin – such an elusive yet familiarly interesting image. I can feel the lack of connection and the need for it in your stanzas too. This reminder to listen as a means of connecting is powerful. A beautiful use of paint chipped words.
Hi Jennifer,
Thank you for coming back to my prompt from yesterday to share this treasure of a poem. I’m not sure if you know so I’m being the teacher and letting you know that you can always go back to previous prompts to respond even if it’s days, weeks, months later. I actually responded to some of yesterday’s prompts this morning because I missed them last night. That’s what I love about this community, we are always here even if it’s not on the actual day, someone will see your poem.
I love paint chip colors for poetry and you have captured them beautifully!
Now, I must take a peek at the color, apple crisp!
🥰
Wow, Jennifer, what fun that was. I appreciate your thinking and sharing your history with this type of poem. Cool that you found Bitsui’s poem too. The first line really was able to get me started. It’s so hard, isn’t it to break the rules. I love that I get so much from your poem, though ungrammatical; I am appreciating today more as a result of your poem. Here is mine after finishing reading Attack of the Black Rectangles by Amy Sarig King this morning.
When we ginger
around delicating and timiding
our adolescence
and school-days-ish
with afraidness and frailitude,
we lose and abuse
historying
noveling
poeming
storying
representing
sacred wings
for flightfully
library wholeness
Denise, thank you for your lovely poem. I love that you used today’s word play to speak of honesty.
Denise, I imagine this poem in response to more than one thing: how we saw ourselves in adolescence and our timidity didn’t allow us to be and become and also how those who are scared of what kids “know” these days through books have caused us to “flightfully library wholeness” which I see in all the banning. In any way we see it, your use of noun-verbs is beautifully done.
Thank you, Brittany and Jennifer, when I read my poem again, I realize I didn’t give a few lines to ground the reader, like you suggested Jennifer. I tried to write about book censoring and banning.
I had just read two books and had them fresh on my mind, but I didn’t convey that here. I expanded my poem here:
https://mrsdkrebs.edublogs.org/2023/04/04/slice-of-life-on-choices-in-reading-and-banning-books/
Denise, what a gorgeous poem. I love the catalog of words honoring all the important things libraries offer all. It’s national library day so your poem is the perfect salute to “library wholeness”.
Denise, brilliant! Every librarian should have your poem on the wall. Imagine if teens didn’t have all the “afraidness and frailtude” and would embrace the full range of the world inside libraries!
Love!
Denise, books really are “sacred wings,” I think…and with bans, there is no “library wholeness.” Thank you for this poem of advocacy!
We
have
all
been
Rickrolled
by life,
been
pretzelled
by circumstances
out of our control,
had to
Houdini
ourselves
out of
tight
spots
at one time
or another
and used
language
or gestures,
(MacGyvering
whole
situations,
origami-ing
our facial
expressions)
to respond to
the inevitable,
seemingly
innocuous,
question:
“How are you?”
…fine. Good. You?
_____________________________________________________
Jennifer, I really enjoyed this prompt! I loved your invitation for us to play with language/grammar today, verbing proper nouns and whatnot. I started to build toward a “joke” question, a “How do I look in this?” type of question but as I was writing it the poem “turned” on me and chose a different path. It Robert Frosted me! (That doesn’t quite make sense, lol).
Absolutely love this line…. felt my face doing this earlier today
our facial
Scott,
I like this acrobatic versifying nouned way of saying “fine.” I’m picturing your face as an origami Scotified crane.
Scott, what a great way to point out the absurdity of this question and answering charade we go through. I with there was a better greeting we could try.
Your poem reminds me of a friend I had in Bahrain, an Arabic speaker whose English was limited. She would always greet me with “How are you? Fine.” (I’m not sure if the fine was another question or an answer.)
Ha! So, so true! I love the humorous tension you bring to how to respond to that question. I think it’s time we rethink how we respond, considering the mental health status of our nation (and perhaps the world). But the rickrolling, MacGyvering that allows us to keep on keeping on. Perhaps a genuine compliment would be a better approach. Scott, your poem today lets me get a glimpse into the real you. (And I love that you were Robert Frosted!)
Maybe we greet each other through poetry instead 🙂
So many great metaphors for our twists and turns and contortions – loved, “pretzelled/
by circumstances.”
Scott,
You poem spoke to me. I enjoyed all the visuals from Rickrolling to MacGyvering, but my favorite:
Jennifer! This prompt is brilliant! It reminded me so much of E.E. Cummings and how he played with and used language. Reading others’ poems, it also reinforced for me the genius we bring out in others by allowing play with and breakage of rules. Thank you! Here’s my attempt:
When we woman
We are blood.
We are life.
We give living.
Born womaning or not
We are blood.
We are life.
We give living.
When we man
We are pen.
We are paper.
We give law.
When we neither or both
We are blood.
We are life.
We are law.
We give us.
When we people
We should be.
We should love.
We should life.
We should give living.
Chea, this contrast between womaning and manning is sharp, distinct. I love how you bring them together as peopleing and share all that this offers: being, loving, lifeing, living. It’s a good reminder – one we need often!
Chea, wow, your poem is “woman” powerful! Your poem is like an affirmation, a marching song full of life, truth, and love! Outstanding!
Holy wow, Chea . . . this is super impressive! I love the structure of your poem and it really helps the meaning deepen. I really love this.
When we school
grey clouds permeate
though we progress
linger in
the spectrum of grey
fading through
the opacity
the wonder
the risk
of the dark
only illuminated by
flashes of idea
always progressing
unless the light
is put out
by us
by them
by content
by order
or decree
when we school
and the light goes out
seek the comfort
of the grey and
the spark illuminating
This is such a great poem. I enjoy your use of short lines (the wonder/the risk/by order, etc.) and how much punch they have on the page. This poem reminds me of every time I have encouraged my students to cast fear aside and take big risks on the page. Easier said…
Andy, I can hear the voice of the educator here, the frustration at the many ways the light goes out, the grey that lingers, as well as the spark, that illumination that beckons and pulls. I wish there were more beckonings and less decreeings. You bring light. Keep offering it!
Your word gives hope in a gray season. Thank God for the “flashes of idea.” Thank you.
Andy, I am feeling the grey as I approach the final 2 months of school. I appreciate the hope and possibilities your poem evokes. I will remember this over the next 42 school days:
Thanks, my friend, for this gift.
Peter husbands well
Art Gallerying, Creekside Cafe-ing, Trumansburging, Music-ing
Marriedly coupled for years three
We apart live the week during
But we have the other each
Weekendily
Life-ing with Peter
Funnilicious, humoridity, fantasticment
He, my hero, is
I hope well I wife
Hi Jennifer,
You are so much better at this than I am. I really loved your verb”ing.” I enjoyed the idea of ‘husbanding” and “wifing.” Both are indeed actions of love.
Andy
Jennifer, you wrote this beautiful ode to Peter in your beautiful manner grammatically ungrammatical. You said so much here. I love the coined words in your “Life-ing with Peter”
Well done, and another good mentor text for me as I go to write my own now. I hope you share your poem with Peter.
Jennifer, the idea of husbanding (and all the work we put in to marriaging) pairs so well with the noun becoming verb. Your use of “marriedly” brings to mind merrily, which is necessary for a successful marriaging!
This tickled me! Peter sounds pretty amazing in his role of husbanding. This is the poem that I think every husband would want written about them!
A powerful mentor poem and prompt, Jennifer. I enjoyed the “road trip” feel of your poem especially. So many hours spent looking out the window at such scenery passing by, and the connection to our lives lived. Sigh. Mine today is inspired by what looks like spring having arrived in Michigan – for a moment or two!
When we porch beer
tweetering-jammed branches
birds haphazarding sky blue
we winter shed
gobble skinning up sun rays
“Beer me!”
crack a glass
wicker throwning overlords
of snow-patched gardens
hello throwing
to walkers-by
all cabin fevered empty
jumbo joy basket smiles
all sins erased
clean board days
& and fresh pack
of sidewalk chalk
“Wicker throwning overlords” is the best image! Yes, this reminds me of walking down Nola streets and passing by people on their porches – none don’t say hi. Yay 🙂
I love “Beer me!” so clever.
Denise, while I’m sitting here looking out at the Michigan arrival of spring (with its lackluster approach today), I can imagine the tweetering-jammed branches (the very best description of all that cacophony) as we winter shed. Love what you did with all the ungrammaring!
Yes, porch beers! Love the joy here.
Denise,
My husband says “beer me!” I chuckled so much when I saw your clever use of it.
Jennifer, thank you for this challenging prompt! I think this will be an idea I return to again. I loved the emotion in the line “wonders what he saw”.
When we camel across the desert
Methodic,
Hoarding,
Steps.
Or shark through the sea
Slurred,
Wandering
Laps.
Or goat up the mountain,
Sharp
Hooved
Jumps.
We squirrel
Sights
Sounds
Thoughts.
Brittany, love the animal verbage and the consistent form of words throughout. Very creative!
Love the structure of this poem. It is so compact and so creative!!
Oh! I love that we are squirreling our senses, Brittany! Choosing to format this with several stanzas beginning with the prompted line made me love this all the more, especially as your first lines are so rich.
Oh, Brittany, what fun this poem is. The words you chose for the way each animal (and us) moves are perfect. I am goating up the mountain now with sharp, hooved jumps. In our area I often see mountain goat warning signs on the roads; whenever I’m a passenger I’m continually scanning the mountains for signs of these amazing beasts! I love you poem.
I’m so glad there is another wordy prompt. Yesterday, I thought about “slay” and how I wanted to write a poem dedicated to Angel Reese. I don’t know if anyone follows women’s college basketball, but I’m an LSU alum and pretty happy right now. They won their first championship on Sunday. Sorry any Iowa fans out there. So, thanks for this prompt, Jennifer. My favorite part of your poem is the color you added.
after Angel Reese
When she history
with her team
first championship for LSU women’s basketball
putting 100+ points on the scoreboard
girl, straight record shattering
When she karma’ed Clark
with her long hair don’t care
personality
we definitely saw her with the wave
and she sure did get her ring on it
Posted up at the hoop
Alexis-assisting mid-range jumps
or bench-cheering Jasmine’s magic 3s
The “Bayou Barbie”
stays unapologetically she
standing up for girls who look like her
keep role-modeling,
keep slaying, Queen
Love, love “When she karma’ed Clark” ~ such a great, detailed poem about an amazing hoop star.
“When she history” – Phew. Amazing. Everything about this – it’s timeliness, flow, and unapologetic celebration. Loved this, Angie!
Angie, you have used your ungrammatical words so cleverly here, placed them so well, waved your own hand to own the prompt. I love that you took this on, in the midst of so much negative publicity, and shined a light upon Reese.
Angie,
You need to send this to her! You captured so much of the essence of her and the big moments!
Angie, I know very little about sportsball (although my autofilled bracket apparently speaks otherwise since I did end 9th this past March, so I guess I’m kind of an expert now, lol) but I know that I love the passion that your poem radiates! Thank you for writing and sharing this!
You win today! That last stanza is perfect! Only rivaled by the 2nd stanza. Glad that you took the opportunity to celebrate Angel Reese in this, it’s a really fitting tribute!
Angie, I read this yesterday before getting out of bed and was shouting victory, then forgot to write my comment. I want to copy/paste and LOVE the whole poem. But the idea of verbing Karma is BRILLIANT and powerful! Karma should definitely have a verb form. Your poem speaks to the Angels of the world who need to see victories like this one! Your poem is a victory! Thanks, Angie!
Angel would appreciate your tribute.
🔥🏀🔥🏀🔥🏀🔥🏀
Jennifer, what a great prompt! I love the surprise of the crow observing.
Broken Dawn
When I tree,
bayou-bell’s song echoes in me.
Yellow twinkle of sweet olive scents
my breath. Legs ache
from last night’s climb.
Turn to eastern broken dawn.
Margaret, I have an affinity for trees and have now decided that I need to “tree” as a part of my daily routine. Bayou-bell’s a wondrous phrase, soft, lyrical, soundful, and that it echoes is beautiful.
I really connected to the line “legs ache from last night’s climb.” It transported me back almost 30 years to my own treeing days.
Such beautiful sense imagery here! I especially love your sound imagery: “bayou-bell’s song echoes” and “yellow twinkle.”
Love this prompt and all the poems have been creating. I’m STILL thinking about birds!
Feathering
Feathering
Fluffy down –
Primaries,
Secondaries,
Tertiaries.
Overlapping,
Waterproofed,
Double-winged
Long distance.
Lightweight,
Aerial dynamic,
Beating rapid –
Upstroke,
Downstroke.
Size, shape,
angle expanding –
Spreading,
Lifting.
Awe-filled,
As I remain
Grounded,
Flightless.
Joanne, I can imagine each line as the flapping of the birds’ wings, the short fluttery lines beating back and forth, up and down, lifting and pausing. They add to the pacing and the tone so nicely.
Joanne, this is great. I really enjoyed your ending. What a complete description!
I really love pacing of your poem. As I read it out loud, it gathered speed and momentum until it finally soared into the sky, leaving me grounded and in awe.
This sounds like a catalog description of birds- and it is so beautiful. Thanks for this!
Earth Song
gossamer me green
slipper me flowers—
lapis me wisps
of endless light
wood thrush the forests
honeysuckle the fields—
bumblebee
springtime
delight!
Ann, what an invitation you’ve placed in that first line! And it’s so beautiful. And that beauty contines (slipper me flowers). You’ve placed me in my place (flowerfully), where I love to be (flower-full), and what I hope arrives soon (the earth singing in flowers).
“Lapis me wisps of endless of endless light”- what a visual that brought forth in my mind. The feeling of springtime joy flies off the screen with the 3 last words- bumblebee spring time delight
When we poet
our travel minds inkick,
wander-taking us to unexpected stops.
We memory corner-hiding bits and pieces.
Foot-pussy thoughts gently nudge into blown-full ideas.
Wriggle words grow into adolescent lines,
acquaint with other word drifts,
fruition into stanzas.
Rendezvous…
poem.
Gayle Sands
3-4-23
Gayle, I love “we memory” and “wriggle words grow into adolescent lines” a great way to describe the growth of a poem 🙂
Oh, how I love this, Gayle! It’s so true (and why I love our “when we poet” time together. You’ve created so many wonderful words (wander-taking, inkick, blown-ful). I want to live with them all. Let’s make them a thing!
I think you must have a firm grip on grammar to be able to manage this fractured poem. So many wonderful noun verbs like foot-pussy and corner-hiding, but the brilliance of “adolescent lines” feels tender, like how we feel about our poeting.
This was just great!! “Inkick” is just the best…and those “corner-hiding bits and pieces”!
Love how you capture the machinations of poetry writing here, especially the line, “We memory corner-hiding bits and pieces.” I see all these open notebooks, toying with lists, scribbling ideas – if not used now, then later, yes? The word “inkick” captures the almost percussive action that poets have, when the words are flowing. Great poem!
When we poet! I love this first line and the blown-fill ideas you packed into your poem today!
I love this idea & am so enjoying reading everyone’s creations!
Grandma’s House
When we jello
the car bump finally sneezed,
hurry in for wafty morsels
yellow pot roast, foggy potatoes
better our poor bellies bust.
We peek the lake, sagey stir
top of the deck we roll, we gaff
we sponge the breeze, the twitters
ask over growings and groanings
then fold inside for crimson cribbage
careful card counts till mom is “smeared all over the table.”
The pies appear, and ice cream, we turtle taste
then wander upstairs to kneel-speak and pillow-sink our dusty heads
do it all again.
Rachel, as someone who loves to cook, this is perfection. From the first line “when we jello” (it sounds so fun in my mouth, as food should) to the foggy potatoes (imagining them in this way is a whole new experience). And I’ve never thought of the cook as “smeared all over the table” but here we are and ain’t it so!
Ah, this one has my head spinning with delight over turtle tasting ice cream and pies and pillow sinking at the end of the day to do it all again. I hope this is how my grands feel about my house.
Rachel, your poem sings with memory.
Rachel— so many convolutions here, but my favorite is “kneel-speak and pillow-sink”. I will savor these!!
Jennifer, this poem is making Grammarly wonder whose writing today! ProWrite bowing is out! Glad we don’t gotta be having red pens in hand today. 🙂
You Gotta Be Kiddingly!
Daying in and out
Snoutingly poutingly about
Wonderfulling why
It’s ain’t going so gratefully
Becausing things out
Accusingly everyone else
Doggoning, too, out of the blue
Comingly a poem like yours
Tellingly encouraging us all,
Playfulling words, and having a ball.
So any sniggles (of recognition) tucked between these lines! snouting, poutingly and my favorite, doggoning too! Love it!
Oh! I didn’t think of this as a thwart to computer writing assistance! I love that first line, Anna. “Daying in and out” (while I think of it as tedious, there’s melody in your words). What fun is that second stanza (doggoning, playfulling). I want to be there all day, “having a ball” with you!
Anna, I love the title – such playfulness in the whole poem but I think especially in the title 🙂
Playfulling words, yes. How fun to put away the red pens!
“It’s ain’t going so gratefully”. I’ve had weeks like this!!
Jennifer I love this idea and your poem, I was really riding that highway with you— you captured the movement, and the rest. The last five lines give the poem such depth too. This poem is just lovely!
Jennifer, great to receive another of your prompts (with absolute fun playing with conventions — ‘a black crow in fields of corn’). How wonderful to have a teacher who wonder-words, word-wonder with youth. I gut-go with seeds as they come, and well….
: ahs cope ee
empty us feel
polyp-preparatory-pinched
nutty seed no-goes do,
grainy whole fruit,
nope woo
liquid clear
broth slime,
grape gripped
lemon limed
italian iced
remote find.
bed-lined case-in-just
towel-draped, eyes crust
dough-boy
abdominal
doobie-do,
hurricaned
turbulent,
too.
turd-shower, stool-power
roof-collapse, poo-shower
uncharted, I be Bristol flower
floodingly foul,
fool, I is
toilet,
spew
midlife,
gonna goo
whale hole,
blow-blew
intestinal conduit
i is muck,
emptied
(ill-internal,
albeit yuck)
probed be me
alienated I
scoped
coped
cleared
Bry
Bryan, there’s a pile here of word-wonder and “albeit yuck” as the :ahs-cope ee” ensues and dare I say “blow-blew” (since you’ve already gone there). What better way to speak of it than in the muckedness of new words since it’s a whole new exploration.
Bryan, ew, ew, ew! Such a crappy topic, bit so well done. It’s perfect for this prompt.
Good grief, you made me want to scream! I know the suffering of the pre-colonoscopy when I turned 50. I’m a little less than a year away for the 10-year repeat. I will just hang on to your poem as a reminder that this too shall pass…
Hopefully, you’re feeling well now! All clear! 🙈
Bryan—I cannot pick a favorite, but “probed be me” is right up there. I am laughing in disgust!!!
Jennifer, thanks for the opportunity for some fun wordplay this morning! Loved the image that you paint in your poem — that black crow “blinking our reflection ” was such a cool and memorable image.
Children bright our days:
sorrowing moments turned hope;
momentous hope turned joy;
prouding sculpts lovely
times from blue.
For example moments:
the first stepping into possible new –
places new, roles new
for both of us. Grow
creates possible, potential.
Friendly newness blooms
where strifeful young and old
once clashed, and, drinks lifted
hoistily, we honest ourselves
with each other, fresh, new, and begin again.
Wendy, children sure do bright our days – what a wonderful way to imagine them (and image them!). The actions become much more in your poem (drinks lifted hoistily, first stepping into possible new) and I adore “friendly newness blooms” – how beautiful!
Made me feel happy and hopeful all at once. Thank you!
I feel the generational waves of replenishing joy as they bud and grow and bloom on the family tree. I love
we honest ourselves with each other
Wow! Cheers to you!
Wendy, my favorite lines
For example moments:
the first stepping into possible new –
places new, roles new
for both of us. Grow
creates possible, potential.
Especially “for both of us. Grow”
Your words so clearingly portray that teaching is learning and when they learn, our students teach us, too. Thankfullying you, for reviving this thought about our professionalization of our collaboratingly craft as educators.
Election Day
By Mo Daley 4/4/23
We are a voter people
Balloting to our heart’s content
We park district
We library district
We trustee
We even school board
We count our votes
Loved the line “balloting to our heart’s content”. <3
Mo, so true! You’ve turned the passive into the active here, making us each role-players in our governmental process, as it should be. Just perfect!
Very creative. Love this – balloting to our heart’s content.
Mo, perfect! I love the last line. That is assurance-ing voters that their vote counts.
“We are a voter people” – yes! I am looking forward to Chicago’s results today.
Before I even start— this prompt is wonderful! I’m not even sure how to approach it, but I’m looking forward to it. And your poem, Jennifer—when we highway— the metaphor and all that you added to it. Intimidating!
Wow, Jennifer! This prompt really took me on a journey…it’s really mind-expanding to play with language this way. I tend to forget just how fluid it can be. Your highway poem really conjured up so many images of past journeys for me. This is what I landed on…a memory of a hiking date with my now-husband, very early in our relationship (we were both 19…so young!)
Canyonlands
When we dragonfly,
hearts flit, teasing landing,
glitter bluepinkyellow in
chromatic dust.
Overhead, cottonwoods
canopy, paint chiaroscuro
on hands, faces, summer limbs.
Laying languidly near pondness,
enveloped by earthy green,
hearts alight, tentative touch–
move too quickly and they spin
gracefully into the blue above.
Julie,
Loved this so much. The imagery! You played with the words beautifully and introduced me to a new one: chiaroscuro. 🙂
When we “dragonfly”! This is perfect & I’m glad you included an explanation at the beginning, because as I read it I went to the same place, thinking of dragonfly days with my husband when we were dating. My favorite line is: “Laying languidly near pondness.” So beautiful.
Julie, the whimsicalness of “when we dragonfly” in all its lightness and beauty draws me into the flitting and teasing and colors in the canopy. Paint chiaroscuro and “laying languidness near pondness” (pondness – my favorite word here!!) are lovely phrases that make me want to soar into them. Such a beautiful memory.
Julie ~ this poem is a perfect metaphor. What beautiful words you’ve threaded to capture a beautiful moment in time.
You so accurately caught the movements and colors of dragonflies in this piece as well as the beginnings of a young relationship. You made me notice how much these two items have in common,
When we dragonfly… no more is needed than this phrase.
Jennifer- thanks for the invitation to play with words this morning! Though my subject is not the most playful, the grammar play put words to the situation.
Parkinson’sing
Dad is Parkinson’sing
Voice and step smallering
COVID surviving
First time beard growing
Grandpa emoji-texting
Upstairs fall-fearing
World-closing, but hope glimmering
anticipating Sedering and little visiting
Mom is phone worrying
Sandwich quartering, snack prepping
Medication notebooking
What nexting
Day to daying
“No spring chicken” herself-ing
Big brother is in-towning
Fall-helping
Sibling updating
Extended-care websiting
Tupperware of slaw and chicken delivering
Witnessing from close up
Middle sister is relief traveling
Dad defending
Office Max erranding
Muffin and takeout ordering
Freckle faced funning and self care encouraging
Telling what’s true – braving
Little sister (me) is scienceing
Article gathering and recipe sending
Cute baby picture distract-texting
FaceTime diplomatting
and helplessly thankful from afar.
This speaks so much truth, Emily, in ways that not having played with grammar would not have created. I can feel the weight of each responsibility, yet the love and care that is inherent in these obligations. Also the relief of self-care and the ability to be distant but still connected. This would be wonderful to share outside of our group here. I can see a lot of folks connected with the broad range of experiences you were able to capture here so well. Wowzers. And my heart to you all as you love and support your way through this heavy but beautiful life experience.
Oh, Emily- I’m hearthurting and sense confounding to think of your family sorrowing as I here sit remembering you as that child gift in my classroom. I’m arrowing my heartbeats to you and your family. Love, Susie
Emily, the honesty with which you describe Parkinson’sing adds layers to the disease and the wordplay mimics the confusion felt by those affected. Each stanza, capturing another family members assistance, is beautifully rendered. I love you, as little sister, scienceing and recipe sending and distracting. The entire poem is a portrait of each of you and your interactions with one another.
Emily, is a lovely picture of family that rang so true. Loved how your organized the stanzas, giving us a snapshot of each family member, their individual contributions, and your continued unity through it all.
Thanks for showing us this intimate image of your family. I’m sorry you’re going through this. I connected with: “Mom is phone worrying” – my 91 year old Grandma across the country has been in the hospital for a month, and boy is my mom phone worrying.
Your poem shows exactly how people face their days of hard choices. You enter each perspective bravely and with cheer. Your words ring true. So true. Thank you!
Emily, all these things. The memories. My own mother was a Parkinsoning’er. I must say that my heart goes out to you in the quilt-comfortingest of ways, I wish I were there to really like in skin personing style have coffee with you. I love Denise’s comment about the language playing a role in taking the heaviness of truth away and giving it just a bit of a lilt to be able to share the words and feelings. Let me say this: I see a family working together. And that is sheer beauty – not many can agreeing and working togethering and do it this well. We are here, friend.
Emily,
Oh my, you have nailed this prompt and captured the anxiety and struggle of dealing w/ Parkinson’s. Several phrases stand out for me:
“World-closing,
What nexting
Day to daying”
I find myself wanting to write another poem, this one about my father’s blindness. We’ll done.
Jennifer, I have to tell you that this is experience is incredible fun! Your invitation is like a portkey – touch it, and you’re gonna find yourself zapped somewhere else entirely. Magically transported, no limits, with little shades, maybe, of Carroll and Poe. Now. Your poem. I feel the movement in it, the aching, fleeting nature of time, conversely vast and minute. Such scope…and I absolutely love the crow imagery; it is incredibly real. It is going to stay with me from now on. I had a hard time getting past “When we river” in the intro because the sound of it and idea of it is so alluring. Nevertheless, I pressed on and used images that have been lurking (?) hanging on rods (?) of my mind for some time. I gave them to the poem. Or maybe the poem reached out and took them. Thank you for the barrier-breaking creativity today…
When we teakettle
we anticipate
fine copper continuums
well-aproned conversations
even if they’re only
in our own heads
a bright-burning
but ineffective attempt
to quell the viscous treble
of thoughts
stirring like half-ghosts
summoned from far stone corners
by the rising intensity
of the whistle
this is the curse
the unfinished backstitching
of beautifully-napkined
memory
coiling, recoiling
and so at the pitch
we paradox
we parakeet our way
from the cage
to the lace-ruffled curtain rod
hammer-heartedly clinging
to the notion
that we are free
… the unfinished backstitching
of beautifully-napkined
memory …
What a wonderful bit of phrasing …
Kevin
Whoa Fran! This is so striking, I can see the illustrations for this… these kitchen metaphors are powerful and I especially like your playing with verbs like to “parakeet our way from the cage.” Of this is what’s hanging out on the back burner in your mind, what a great storehouse you’ve got! Thanks for sharing this today
Oh, Fran, those conversations, so well-aproned in our heads, certainly stir like half-ghosts. Or at least I feel a half-ghost when conversing in person. Your created words rest beautifully within the verses and all the poetry, the alliterations (hammer-heartedly), the vowel sounds (coiling, recoiling), push the lyrical feel.
Fran, this line!
“the unfinished backstitching
of beautifully-napkined
memory”
…but the whole poem gave me such a cozy kitchen vibe, even with the tensions that were alluded to…teakettling is, indeed, invaluable in “quelling the vicious treble.” Loved this.
Fran, you bring us right into a kitchen to a table – – you had me at teakettle. I love the sound of the word, because it almost sounds conversational itself. Teakettle. The haunting feeling of ancestors in corners coming to the sound of the whistle is strong
stirring like half-ghosts
summoned from far stone corners
by the rising intensity
of the whistle
this is the curse
the unfinished backstitching
of beautifully-napkined
memory
the curse of the unfinished backstitching holds regret, life taken too soon for those who have gone before us, still stitching their unfinishedness in us, through us, as we take the time to reflect and teakettle. Your childhood parakeet(?) pays us a visit through your lovely words today that will stay with me. So many times in this group I see a poem that just rattles my soul and I wish we had hardbound copies, just volumes and volumes to get lost in, and this is one of those poems. I want it forever.
Oh my gosh, Fran – this is amazing. The teakettle and bird images and then your word choices – viscous treble – rising intensity, recoiling, hammer-heatedly. So powerful – clinging to the notion that we are free. Thank you!
Fran,
You nailed it w/ “barrier-breaking creativity” in your assessment of today’s prompt. I thought at first I’d read a celebration of tea time and then arrived at these lines:
“we paradox
we parakeet our way
from the cage
to the lace-ruffled curtain rod”
WOW! Those words are a gut punch to tradition. I love the surprise in this and all poems.
Ooh, this is lovely! I love, love, love the way the enjambment and layering of adjacent (kitchen) details creates movement in this piece.
My favorite lines: “unfinished backstitching /of beautifully-napkined / memory.” So rich! So good!
We parakeet our way…what a beautiful phrase!!
Jennifer,
This was fun, a brain flipper. Love the inspiration and could not do this w/ out your brilliant highway inspiration. Not sure if I played the grammar mixup well, but here goes!
Schoolify
when we school—
book-brainly chrome
implemently lesson
learnlify assessment
each child left
A.I.ing blissly-assistly
data’d to graduation
numberfied just another
metricafied learner-ing
cog in the complex
machining industrial
when we 21st
century
school.
—Glenda Funk
April 4, 2023
Yep yep yep
Oh, Glenda – how often, as I’ve walked the hallways, have I had the almost overwhelming sense of being encased in machinery too vast and industrial to measure. Here it is, the hard truth in your wordplay. The horrors of being “numberfied,” metricafied”…a steampunk factory line, chugging and churning. You essentially stop the cogs with an implied question…where’s the humanity? Schoolify…indeed, and alas.
Glenda, this poem is serving me staff meeting educational jargon realness! You’re getting to the heart of how the data and technology is presented as blessing and curse. You nailed it with this word play!
Glenda, somehow the ungrammaring fits so very well with the current system. I love the line, “when we 21st century school” and the “blissly-assistly” of A.I.ing. The unsettled topsy-turvyness of reimagining words grammatically does to my brain what school does too.
Glenda,
Brilliant! And sad. Beautiful job.
Glenda, yes – we can sure feel like robots, choice taken away, automatic-pilot button pushed. Perhaps now more than EVER in the whole history of the universe, creative writing will push all the other stuff off the winner’s platform and take first place in the era of mindlessness. Brains matter. Stories matter. The way we use our brains to tell our stories? It matters.
Glenda, you’ve captured so much about school here! Loved “A.I.ing blissly-assistly
data’d to graduation
numberfied just another
metricafied learner-ing”
The technology, data-driven society has lost the human spirit of school. I hear you! Powerful poem!
I, too, found this prompt a brain-flipper. Your line “data’d to graduation” – that screams out education these days! (We are mere seconds from data being a verb, I think, it is so ubiquitous and essential now.) You had fun with this, Glenda – and I enjoyed so much.
Oooh, Glenda! What a picture of our schooling today! learnlify assessment— what a great phrase!
Wow. Very powerful. You certainly have a way of making people ask questions and think about current events. We’ll done mixing up the grammar.
I love the sound of reading your poem aloud. Especially…
“A.I.ing blissly-assistly
data’d to graduation”
and
“metricafied learner-ing
cog…”
Glenda, love your poem, especially the lines above and “cog in the complex.” You nailed the ungrammar perfectly!
Jennifer, pure fun this morning, and so much creativity with words and thoughts of time and place, a little timewarpish wordplayishly VerseLove! Love your way of inspiring us and investing in us as writers. The image of that crow with his head tilted wondering what he saw on the highway there for some reason took me to my hippie days way far back up the road….
Birkenstock Peaced-Up Pipe Dreams
when we wander Birkenstocks
corkbed frolic nope to socks
camouflagely sherpa’d arch
hippiescuffle guitar’d march
bellishbottomed denimly jeans
knowexactly peaced-up means
leatherfringe’d-up gauchovest
showsly braless halter’d chest
macramae’d-up shoulderbag
carefree pet rock tail-she-wag
daisychainedup tousled locks
when we wander Birkenstocks
Kim! The rhythm of this that emerges from all the wordplay is delightful! Once discovered, I pushed it along and wanted to shout it aloud (the dog was saved that sound as it’s too early for shouting). I love all the combined words (hippiescuffle is a fave). You are on fire so early in the morning!
Every line is a wonder here … I wanted to hear your voice saying your words … (or tryin’)
🙂
Kevin
Kim, your utter Kimishness radiates in every line! A patchouli pastiche of memory that RHYMES! I always love where your innate whimsy leads you, magical word-weaver. I loved every bit of this bohemian ride – I could smell the leather, hear the bell-bottom swish, feel the wind in my long, long hair and the cool smoothness of the pet rock in my hand – even the knobbiness of its glued-on eyes. And I love the ending line repeating the first. Perfectly-stitched patchwork.
Kim- this is so vivid and bright and fun! I’m loving this head to toe, inside out celebration of hippie fashion and vibe! Your ending couplet is just perfect! I love your word mixing – reminded me of Bob Dylan in the good fun ways!
Love, love! This was rollicking fun. The imagery made me smile. Thanks for this fun today, Kim.
Kim – yes – When we wander Birkenstocks! Love this – I read it aloud Shel Silverstein style. Made me so HAPPY. Thank you!
Kim,
Your words paint a picture of the perfect, hippie, Birkenstock lifestyle. The e jammed words are super fun. I love the way you bookend, wrap into a neat, well-accessorized package the poem as one would the outfit you’ve described. Fun poem.
I could see so many of my favorite styles from the seventies in your poem from the bell bottoms to the leather fringed, but I don’t think I ever wore Birkenstocks. I am not sure why. Very fun poem. “peaced-up means”…yes!!
I am mesmerized by the many ” ‘d” words – which somehow adds this ‘hippie’ sound, as I read this aloud. Your rhymes are awesome!! I remember so well the “leatherfringe’d-up gauchovest” and never could pull off “showsly braless halter’d chest”. Awesome, Kim! Peace out!
This is so great!! The rhythm, the wordsmithing, the visit to the past. Excellent!
I enjoy these prompts that give permission to play with words. Thanks, Jennifer
Thelonius Sounds
When he piano-ed,
he’d key the plunk
of string to let
sing fingers noting
rectangular gaps
of the missing,
jagged art forms
angular as freebop
https://flic.kr/p/2or6Ymg
Kevin
Oh! “Key the plunk” – I can hear that. Feel that. A nod to jazz as we syncopate our words today. Love it!
Thanks! I had Monk on the mind
Kevin
Kevin, I’m chuckling at the use of plunk and sing fingers, kind of like the flop of a vocal performance that reminds me of a cartoon where the conductor is in a tux- only funny, and then at that last line with the subtle patterns of language wondering about freebop with the as in front of it – you have me starting the day with a knowing smirkgiggle with your worduse humor!
Looney Tunes!
Yes! And he leaves the glove hanging in midair and goes on a vacation while the singer’s face turns red holding the note for days.
Sing fingers, jagged art forms, the angularity – all uniquely freeing and soul-stirring, in this fitting tribute to Monk, who was born “just up the road” from where I live.
Kevin – Downright musical. Mr monk would snap his fingers. Love love love it.
A piece of jazz in itself — I think he’d love this tribute!
“keyed the plunk” is inversion fun.
I popped the poem into a site called JazzKeys that turns keystrokes into piano music. It came out interesting but not very Monk-ish.
Listen, if curious: https://jazzkeys.plan8.co/?msg=328f40cc-869c-49f9-b7ac-02ab7fe8f26a
So much here- sing fingers noting may be my favorite!