Stef is an Associate Professor of Education at Aquinas College in Michigan. She teaches courses for pre-service and in-service teachers in instructional design, literacy, ed tech, and research methods. Her K-12 teaching was in California prior to moving into teacher preparation. @stefboutelier
Inspiration
During #Verselove 2021 I hosted a very similar prompt around titles. I have heard many teacher-writers in our community mention this prompt. Poem titles are not discussed/practiced/modified as often in the art of poetry. Therefore, I wanted to remind us again about the power of titles and how they have the potential to hold the hand of the poem and lead it to new interpretations.
First, read this translated poem by Chilean artist Claudio Bertoni:
I’d like to be a nest if you were a little bird.
I’d like to be a scarf if you were a neck and were cold.
If you were music, I’d be an ear.
If you were water, I’d be a glass.
If you were light, I’d be an eye.
If you were a foot, I’d be a sock.
If you were the sea, I’d be a beach.
And if you were still the sea, I’d be a fish,
and I’d swim in you.
And if you were the sea, I’d be salt.
And if I were salt, you’d be lettuce,
an avocado or at least a fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg,
I ‘d be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread,
you’d be butter or jam.
If you were jam,
I’d be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach,
you’d be a tree.
And if you were a tree,
I’d be your sap…
and I’d course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood,
I’d live in your heart.
Take a moment to consider how you would title this poem. Is it about a romantic partnership, a parent-child relationship, or something else? As the audience, we can only determine this based on our interpretation of the words or our own experiences.
Here is the original title of this poem in Spanish: “Para Una Joven Amiga Que Intentó Quitarse La Vida” and the English translation: “For a young friend who tried to take her own life.”
Now, read the poem again partnered with the complexity of the poem’s title. Did this change the meaning for you? Did it change your emotions as you read it, now knowing who the poem was for? Would you agree that this title has a significant impact on the context?
Another example of a complex or multi-meaning title is Lucille Clifton’s “Climbing.”
Process
Today I invite you to write a poem where the title helps identify its content, theme, or purpose. The topic and form are up to you–the focus today is on the title. You might consider one of the following to guide you today:
- Return to a poem you’ve written during #Verselove23 and create a title change that might alter the context.
- Use an AI tool to title one of the poems you have written during #Verselove23.
- Write a poem with a twist, then invite all of us to title it for you. Later tonight, return to the comments and share what your original title was.
- Use a witty double entendre as your title and inspiration for writing today.
Stefani’s Poem
For my writing, I decided to play around with the title and words in this nonet poem:
“Press Eject”
Inhale, only the positive, breathe
In, exhale internal stressors
Inquisitive flow of air
In pivoting reply
Into life’s unknown
Increase mind-set
In upgrade
Incline
Out
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.
Hey Stef! I love this prompt. I’ve become a big fan of poems whose titles are their first lines. I thought about writing one like that, but instead, I’ve shared one from a larger project I’ve been working on.
‘Tis the Season
“I don’t care if you want to or not, Sis.”
She was yelling at this point.
Still busying herself with dishes and laundry.
Hands and body busy while her mouth yelled at me.
“You’re gonna pollinate –
I did it.
Your Uncle Scotty did it.
Your Uncle Paul did it.
Hell, even your dad de-tassled.
You don’t have to like it but you are gonna do it.”
Me at the raw oak table. Anchored by the little kitchen window
Her dance and my anger making me dizzy.
“Like, aren’t there some child labor laws or something?
I’m only 13!”
I yelled back. An ill-advised move, really,
but at this point
I was passed caring.
She chuckled a bit which made me even angrier.
“Not in farm work, honey.”
God. At least my friends who were stuck baling hay
And working their family farms were still around
To hang out with friends and stuff.
I was gonna be stuck with Mamaw and Papaw
In their converted funeral home.
In the middle-of-nowhere Kempton, IN.
I mean we lived in the middle of nowhere too.
But at least my friends were in this middle of nowhere.
The whole thing felt like death.
But Mom didn’t really give a shit.
Even said so herself.
Plus, she did that thing where she left the room
After sayin’ her last word.
It wasn’t the first time we had the argument
But it was the last.
And I lost.
Pretty definitively.
School was almost out. Better make
The best of it since there was nothing but corn pollen,
4-H, and Mamaw & Papaw on the horizon.
“Now get outside,”
Mom yelled from the laundry room,
“That lawn ain’t gonna mow itself is it?”
Ugh.
Hi Steph –
Sorry for the late post.
My creative writing club met on Wednesday during our 23-minute MTSS time (that acronym might only make sense to Iowa teachers, but I’m pretty sure the rest of you can guess–) I shared with them the mentor text–which they loved!–and we felt a communal gasp when we read the title.
I decided to use the prompt to mimic Bertoni’s magnetic series of metaphors. I did not have (take) time to work this into anything more than a couple of un-anchored stanzas, but I want to post here because I did–if feebly–show up on April 19!
—–
I’d like to be the puddle you splash in
I’d like to be the boot on your foot
the polish on your toes
the bandaid on your knee
pressed tight to hold the world away from your wound
I’d like to be the catch in your voice when you try to tell a lie
and the ringing in your ears when you climb off the lawnmower
I’d be the frisson prickling your neck when you hit the high note
and the tiny beads of sweat on your lip when you look at the sun
All day I thought about the prompt, jotted down notes about what I might write. Tonight when I sat down focused on a title I thought about Jason Isbell’s song, Decoration Day. Maybe not the happiest lyrics, but fine guitar playing. I mixed my notes about the music with his lyrics.
decoration day
it’s decoration day
and I’ve a mind
chords pop
strings hum
what would he say
fingers pick
a rhythm carries us away
my daddy wasn’t afraid
I guess it was best
the melody runs through the frets
he had no one o fall on but me
as the guitarist struts across the stage
Jamie, I love the idea of mixing Jason Isabel’s lyrics with your words. Your last line is particularly evocative for me.
Jamie, I enjoy this creative remix of lyrics and verse as they flow so well together. Thank you for sharing this way.
Hey Jamie! Jason Isbell is at the top of my list of favorite singer/songwriters and I love what you did here. My favorite version of Decoration Day is on his Live in Alabama album, and I’m gonna get the vinyl out and spin it right now!
Stefani, I appreciate the variety of options today and played with a few ideas. I love the idea of crowd-sourcing a title and can’t wait to try this with students!
The wrong choice of a single word
could spark a devastating forest fire.
The whiff of a vicious tone
could turn the stomach inside out.
The silent suggestiveness
could slay an unsuspecting bystander.
Title (until further notice): Better left unsaid
Would love to hear suggestions!
Choices? Ooh! That silent suggestiveness!
Laura, your poem creatively articulates the power of a word. My first thought for a different title: Curse? Thank you for sharing yesterday.
Hi Laura, The only thoughts that I have would be tied to “spark” and “fire” and “whiff,” something like “Controlled Burn” or “Spontaneous Combustion,” but I’m not sold on either of those. I think you’ve nailed it with “Better Left Unsaid.” Thanks for writing and sharing this!
Hi, Stef! Thank you for hosting today. I like your challenge of exploring the poem titles and their power. From the title “Press Eject” until the final “out,” you kept my tension loosening. I needed to “exhale internal stressors.”
I, too, tried a nonet poem today and learned about noises helping us to fall asleep. Please, offer a more fitting title.
What’s Your Favorite Color, or A Rainbow of Noises
Sleep experts say there’s no formula
to find the perfect sound for you
to reach calm and catch some Zs—
ocean waves breaking shore,
low whoosh of the wind,
birds chirping call—
white, green, pink,
or brown
noizzz 😴
I write to you from my son’s room as we listen to the waves crashing (in our landlocked state 😂). They sure do provide a peaceful soundscape for sleeping. “Sleeping on a sound wave”? I love the synesthesia that you use but titling this one is tricky! Seems like there’s a perfect tithe close by.
Thank you, Laura! I envy your “green” noise that is so close. Mine is the noise of passing vehicles on a state highway nearby, not loud and intrusive though. I realize that it is so familiar that it calms me down too. I like your title because it’s really about a sound wave that is individual for each person.
I really love the way your money flows. The sounds add a rich layer and I like the addition of brown at the end!
Thank you, Barb! I knew about the white noise, but green, pink, and brown are new to me.
Leilya,
I love how calm your poem makes me feel. I like listening to nature sounds on Insight Timer at night. I particularly like the explanation of ways we try to fall asleep following the dash. Do you know the adult picture book “Ho the F*#k to Sleep”? It’s a hoot and is about a child whose parents are frustrated the baby won’t sleep. In terms of a title I like titles that are ironic or integrate the title into the poem, such as “Anti-Sleep Agents” or “In the Journal of Sleep Disorders and Management…”
Glenda, I keep learning from you! Now, I need to check out the adult picture book. Oh, I love the second title you suggested; it would be a well-fitting entry “In the Journal of Sleep Disorders and Management…” You are a pro at titles! Thank you!
This makes a fun gift for new parents! Go the F**k to Sleep https://a.co/d/hgSONUI
I just read a few sample pages 😀
Lol! Looks great!
Leilya, I know all these options from my kids’ sound machines. We always landed on waves and now white noise with fans or air purifiers:) This leaves an issue sometimes when sleeping elsewhere though. Thank you for writing with us yesterday.
Stef–thanks so much for the opportunity to revise and play around with a piece already begun. I went back to yesterday’s triolet. I changed the form (picked up on your nonet poem), changed the title (maybe a play on words), reworking the meaning as well. I love your Press Eject poem by the way!
Here’s my new poem:
Mirror Image
Looking into the shiny mirror
sky and water dance in colors
teal to blue to steely gray
lighting the way to see
unexpected view
beyond the sea
waves inhale
exhale
Me
Here’s yesterday’s poem: https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2023/04/18/a-triolet-npm23-day-18/
Kim, This is so visual. Your poem took me right by the waters edge and looking into the blue infinity. I love it and exhaled with you.
Kim, I remember your yesterday’s triolet. I liked it, and I like this one turned into nonet. The new form and less words make your mirror image more precise. I love the sound of “sky and water dance in colors.” Thank you!
Kim, I love that you reimagined a precious poem and the title is perfect. These would play nicely as a set. I especially love the image of the waves inhaling and exhaling “Me.”
Kim, how lovely, you’ve edited your own poem in such a different and distinct way. It’s like a found poem of your own poem. Thank you for sharing yesterday.
It was a good but tiring day that ended with a necessary chore–thus this poem. I struggle with titles, often opting to not title my poems.
Walking through the aisles looking for
the gift my oldest son asked for
for his 21st birthday next Monday,
I spy a former student at the registers.
No longer able to slip in and out
anonymously, I brace myself for the
obligatory conversation–How’re you?
Are you still teaching?
Why don’t you teach that class anymore?
and I reply with tired, but heartfelt replies,
Yep, still here. Still love it. I taught that
class for sixteen years, it was time.
The life of a teacher means that there
really is no where you can go and be
anonymous–everywhere I go, it seems,
I see a student–current and former,
from years gone by and not so long ago.
While I love the connections and
the brief catch ups, sometimes I’d
rather just be another stranger,
alone with my thoughts and the
quiet whirring of my own mind.
Incognito
Cara,
The desire to go incognito quickly in and out of a store is strongly felt by many. Sadly, it feels like the more one wants no one to notice them on an errand, it seems they are more likely to run into that former student. P.S. thank for the reminder birthday season in almost upon us.
Fellow introvert here, and I must say I enjoy the anonymity of living in another city than the one I teach in! I like the mundane moment you captured here–checking out at a register–and the little moments of connections we have with people (including former students) throughout the day. Thanks, Cara!
Cara, I hear you! So many times I would sit at the restaurant table with my husband when the waiter comes: “Oh, Dr. Pitre!” and the situation feels imposing both for me and my student. What’s more uncomfortable, they may be my current students. Thank you for sharing!
Cara, your title is fabulous and relatable. It is nice to sometimes just be incognito and separate from our day jobs;)
Stef, thanks for the opportunity to revisit old poems which I rarely do. The title of your poem “press eject” gives the tone a certain courageousness. I love the images.
I chose a ghazal originally written in March 2022 for the Open Write. I titled it “The Fire” based off a fire my brother and I spotted in a field across from our home when we were young.
Election Season
late Iowa summer; no clouds in the sky–
the orb above penetrates and glows, on fire
neighbor’s marlboro sits between sweaty lips
carelessly tossed on dirt–whoosh–here goes the fire
county engulfed, all ablaze
corn from the field sows the fire
smoke covers the horizon, day becomes night
there is nothing but flames which arose from fire
grab a bucket, watering can, or hose,
what we do now can slow the fire
Rachelle,
Well The Fire was a good title, but Election Season makes this poem a perfect metaphor for all the mud slinging and rhetoric the burns across the nation.
Rachelle,
I completely agree with DeAnna, the title really captures the state of our country. My students have been having a heyday discussing denialism and fringe science this week–my oh my do they have choice words for those “movements.” I love how well the last stanza works for the chaotic state of affairs right now.
Rachelle—the title change is excellent. I’m curious if this new title was possible because of the distance you have from the time of writing or memory? I’m always fascinated with the mind’s connections made with very little of our input.
Rachelle, you provide such explicit images in your poem and your title is very intriguing. Thank you for sharing yesterday.
Learning to let it all go.
Losing control
Since I never was
Choosing
Freedom
Donnetta, this sounds like a “Turning Point” or a moment of clarity. It makes me think about choices in my own life and what it would mean to choose freedom. Thanks for this gift today.
Donnetta,
That is short and powerful, especially those last three lines. It makes me wonder about choosing freedom and never choosing freedom.
Donnetta,
Whoa, this one has me thinking! I want to title it “Deception.” I feel like someone was forced to leave a relationship and had to learn to be okay with freedom. Wow. I want to know more or if I’m on the right track.
Donnetta, thank you for writing with us yesterday. I am feeling like this poetic burst needs to lead into a deep discussion and processing this or maybe it would work well as a t-shirt?;)
Untitled
By Mo Daley 4/19/23
I call you every day
because you don’t understand texting.
We sit on the couch gossiping
you with your instant coffee and me with my tea.
You ask me to take you out on a few errands
because you never found the time to get a license.
I grumble, but only because you expect me to.
You watch my dogs when I travel
and you don’t even tell me when they go on the carpet.
We say, “I love you,” every day.
At least that’s how I imagine our lives
together,
thirty years after you left us.
Oh Mo, this is heartbreaking and lovely. Thank you for sharing this memory/hope with us in this way today. 💙
Mo, I enjoy your honest and direct voice in this poem and the specific actions you imagine could have happened. The separated stanza is earth-shattering. What a punch in the gut.
There is something so dear about this, “I grumble, but only because you expect me to.” I would title this poem with the name of the loved one missing. (Is it Mom?) Very sad and sweet poem, Mo.
It is!
So powerful, Mo. I drew my breath in as I read that culminating stanza. Heartbreaking.
Gosh, my heart wasn’t ready! I honestly thought this would somehow be an inanimate object at first. 😔
The weight of you makes my gut brace.
Palm enfolds the waist firm to lift
your mouth to the rimmed vessel
and pour the life that sates my
toil, buoys fancy
when life’s dear swill
flows across
my lips:
quenched.
Glass Pitcher of Water
Sarah having the title at the end comes as a shock!
But, the takeaway for this prompt is the power of words in general and the way that titles can pre-set an image in the minds of a reader.
Oh! That’s why publishers are so picky about book titles. Hmmm! That’s why we ask students to consider the title the AUTHOR gave the written work because that may be a clue to THEIR intended message.
It also is for this reason, I think, that art museums make the titles of artwork so small so we, the viewers, can view and enjoy the creativity of the art without preconceived notions.
All these thoughts from Stef’s prompt today. WOW!
Sarah,
I feel the weight of that pitcher and struggle to lift my brittan pitcher every day. I’ve attributed this to old age, but a full water pitcher is heavy. I really like the direct address, the acknowledgment the pitcher provides l life’s dear swill.” It’s such a vital acknowledgment in this time of climate change and water shortages.
Sarah, I like the image of “enfolds the waist firm to lift/your mouth,” as this works well without the title but is even stronger in a figurative play with the title.
“the life that sates my
toil,”
lovely phrasing. Great title! My mind was in a zillion places. Could really be a lover’s ode, I think…
Sarah, what an interesting topic today. I agree with Maureen, I thought it was a person for a few lines. I especially like: “The weight of you makes my gut brace.” Clever!
I wrote 3 versions of this skinny poem & couldn’t decide which to post. Maybe they can all go together??
I think it’s real because
flowers
sprout
from
seeds
flowers
are
more
than
flowers
because it’s real, I think.
I think it’s real because
I
breathe
out
words
I
can’t
stop
being
I;
it’s real, because I think.
I think it’s real because
life
seems
to
speak.
Life,
louder
than
not
life;
because I think it’s real.
(Heaven)
Rachel, thank you for sharing all of these, skinny poems are fun! I appreciate the period separating speak./life…it somehow brings a presence to “life” in a way that might not happen without the punctuation.
Rachel, I think the skinny poem format works well in this poem because it adds to your thinking, your breathing, and your ending thought. Powerful! I was really moved by “I can’t stop being I”. Understanding the spirit is difficult and your poem is provocative.
Your poem is like three facets of the theme ‘heaven.’ I like that! Love this skinny part here:
Rachel, I love how the skinnies pass from one to another. I love these thoughts for believing heaven is real: “life seems to speak. Life, louder than not life” Beautiful.
Hi Stef,
This prompt is right up my alley. I usually title after I finish the poem and more often than not, I don’t think it’s right. I also spend a ton of time thinking about titles of to-be-written poems but by the time I write, where are all the ideas??
Here’s a pantoum I wrote in February. I don’t like the title I gave it so I’m leaving it off. Hopefully, someone has the perfect title to share.
Thanks so much for hosting us today! I love learning from you. My sister’s therapist shared something similar to your lines here and she told me I better start doing more of this!!
(My Poem That Needs a Better Title)
I imagine the gathering
Warm greetings and locked smiles
Familiar spiritual connections
Welcome to your heavenly home
Warm greetings and locked smiles
Joyous laughter and song
Welcome to your heavenly home
Free of suffering and loss
Joyous laughter and song
Trumpets sound in harmonious light
Free of suffering and loss
I imagine the gathering
ⓒStacey L. Joy, 2/16/23
Stacey your poem could be called “Inside the Gates.” I love the thoughts of a gathering of spiritual connections, laughter and smiles without pain.
Stacey, thank you for inviting us to give title options to your poem. What about, “I’m home”? Also, the titles you come up with, could you list them all into one poem? Or what about use as a prompt to share out?
Stacey, your poem is such a beautiful tribute to a soul passing. I love the focus on the familiar spiritual connections and the song and laughter. I especially liked the “Trumpets sound in harmonious light”. I have no idea what a good title for this would be but perhaps something along the joyous or harmonious light or the gathering…like imagining the gathering. Titles are tough. Your poem is brilliant!
I wonder if “Homecoming” would be a good title? I remember this beautiful pantoum…I don’t remember your title though. I am like you, in that I write titles after I write my poem – and, in my case, I really don’t give them enough thought. This prompt has been fascinating to me!
My original title was Welcome Home and I’ve now changed it to Homecoming! Thanks!
Stacey, such a beautiful poem, and right next to Rachel’s “Heaven” poem.
“I imagine the gathering” to start and end is perfect!
How about a title “Gathered Home” ?
When I read your words the simple four letter word – home comes to mind. All the things that makes home like – Warm greetings and locked smiles, Familiar spiritual connections, Joyous laughter and song – I imagine the gathering –
A Notable Student
There is a boy in my class
who is notable.
Wait.
There is supposed to be
a space there.
Not able.
I know that sounds mean;
But this kid is simply
not able.
Not able to sit still.
Not able to shut his mouth.
Not able to lock in and listen.
Not able to resist annoying his neighbor.
Not able to not tap his foot and his pencil.
Not able to refrain from playing drums on his desk.
Not able to combat his urgent desire to burp and fart.
Not able to stop his mpulse to sneeze loud enough to wake the dead.
When people ask me to reflect on my career
and the thousands of students I have taught
and name the notable ones,
I have quite a few names to list . . .
students that have soared to the top of virtually
ever career field.
But my list of not able students is growing
exponentially every year.
I guess I have to love and teach the
not able ones
as well as the
notable ones.
~Susan Ahlbrand
19 April 2023
Susan–I think I taught him!! It does seem as if our students are less and less able to take on responsibility for their own learning. As I visit various schools in my observations, I hear it over and over. Covid? Parents? Hard to say… But I love the use of not able and notable…some are both!!
Susan, is he in room 37 at Baldwin Hills Gifted Magnet???? 😂 I promise you, he’s in my classroom with 6 others just like him!
Such a clever play on notable and not able. Maybe you can keep going and add a stanza about no table!
I love this and you stay strong!
Susan, I love this topic so much and your wordplay adds extra admiration. This trend is driving a gap in our upcoming educators as well…how will we be able to teach. Thank you for sharing this here today.
Susan,
I so love the transition from “notable” to “not able.” I think you teach younger students than me, but even so, there are those not able students in my classes, too. I have three girls this year who are quite notably not able to ever stop talking, ever consider the needs of others, and most certainly are not able to consider that they are not the center of the universe. Sigh. I loved your poem for it’s perfect honesty and acceptance.
Oh, wow, I’ve not noticed notable and not able before today. I love the long anaphora list and how each line grows in length–and perhaps also in intensity of noise and teacher’s frustration.
“I guess I have to love and teach” both kinds of students. Nice conclusion.
Stef, thank you for this inspiration! I love the Lucille Clifton poem so much. Your poem was beautifully meditative.
I had a hard time writing a poem today – I was obsessing about titles, lol. I always title my poems – but I think of the title afterwards; today, I was ‘cart before the horse.’ My mind spun round and round, unable to land on a topic. A dear teacher in my life told me a story and I made it the subject of my etheree…with a pun of a title, I think.
she doesn’t need my title
last
parking
spot school lot
back up back in
her car’s on the line
squeeze in, right alongside
oh, I’ve got this! CRUNCH! clang dang
bumped the bumper of my colleague’s
brand new SUV and tore it off
she’s going to want my car insurance
Maureen,
Brilliant pun on “title.” I expected a title given a person untilI reached the final line and had “insurance” as a foil. I also think the etheree form works well to build toward the final conclusion. The entire scene reminds me of that fantastic Cathy Bates scene in Fried Green Tomatoes. You may have struggled w/ the title today, but you came up w/ a dandy.
Maureen–This is wonderful!! I love the play on “title”. And I am so glad this is someone else’s story.
Uh ohhhh, I didn’t expect the story to be what it was! More importantly, I’m grateful this was your teacher friend’s issue and not yours.
These lines really gave the feeling of a very careful and methodical procedure! Too bad it went wrong for her.
Maureen, I am sorry to hear you were side-tracked with the title at first but you drafted a lovely ode to this experience–one we’ve all probably experienced. Thank you for sharing today.
I can feel this moment of the CRUNCH and clanging afterwards. Very clever play with your title and your last line is the perfect end to a very bad situation.
Oh, ouch! “bumped the bumper…and tore it off” well put! I’m glad it didn’t happen to you. Nice title! And, yes, I’m glad the car insurance is enough and no turning over the title needed.
Maureen, the double meaning of title is genius here – – I am hoping there wasn’t much damage on the car…..oooooops, hope you have a good-natured colleague! I’m feeling the crunch here.
I love your title and it’s meaning coming to life with the last line. It’s playful til the reality at that last line.
I reworked a previous poem. Thanks for the inspiration !
Spring Break meant total relaxation
it was time to let my bladder be the leader
instead of the bell
time to have dinner first and breakfast in the evening
time to lie in bed all day and take two naps
I forgot a few of their names
I went outside and let fresh air smack me in the face
I Noticed flowers, grass, and overgrown bushes
Found the inner child I’ve been keeping hidden
Allowed her to swing her arms and kiss the sky
Snuggled with someone special during daytime hours
Seana Hurd Wright
I love the line “ Found the inner child I’ve been keeping hidden” and the fun idea of fresh air smacking you – these are simple pleasures of a much deserved spring break! hmm what to title your poem? “Spring in my steps”?
Love that!. Thanks
Hi Seana! I’ve missed you here so I’m thrilled to see your poem today. I loved:
I don’t know if the little x’s mean something or if it’s my computer doing something weird. I hope you got all you needed from Spring Break.
Hugs!
Seana–this line is the epitome of teacher issues: “it was time to let my bladder be the leader/instead of the bell”. So many things here are so very true–forgetting a few of their names, allowing your inner child to emerge. Wonderful!
Seana, thank you for using this space today to re-write this poem. I am loving the sensation of letting “fresh air smack me in the face.”
Seana, yes, it’s good to see you back today. Oh, my goodness, this list for spring break is everything! I’m sure you were able to rest up with this list of to-dos. Beautiful! “Noticed flowers, grass, and overgrown bushes” and “let my bladder be the leader” are two favorites.
Stef thank you for today’s prompt. I like the reminder that titles help the reader better relate to a poem. It was nice to get back to poetry. I’ve been home sick the last few days, mostly sleeping. I’m hoping to go back and chat up on the days I’ve missed.
Ode to my Summer
Summer
Hammer swings
Early morning walks
Pour over coffee, long chats
Late night knitting or late night reading
Extra time with grandkids and last child at home
Backyard barbeques lead water balloon fights, s’mores
Camping or glamping means hikes, campfire stories, and a drink or two
Summer time to refill my cup, overflowing so I’m able to fill those of my students
Sorry you’ve been sick – and that’s a great reason for thoughts on summer relaxation! Love the idea of refilling “my cup, overflowing.”
DeAnna, oh this made me yearn for summer! Here’s to a quick recovery for you!
DeAnna, your last line acknowledges your love for the profession but your awareness of self-care. I hope you are feeling better and thank you for sharing today.
DeAnna,
Yes, this is the time of the year when we begin to yearn for summer. I love what I do, as you do, but man is it exhausting. Gimme those late nights reading and a gooey s’more, not to mention a bit more sleep! Thanks for the daydream.
I feel like I was transported, DeAnna, to my favorite season. I especially liked “Early morning walks / Pour over coffee”. Sounds like the perfect way to wake up to me!
DeAnna,
The freedom of summer comes through beautifully in every line!
I love the endearing feelings in the final line:
I am soooo ready!!! 🌞
Welcome back, DeAnna, yes, here’s to summer coming soon! I love this:
(Oops. I do that quite often)
Your summer sounds like it will be peaceful, unhurried and refreshing!
I love your ode. I thought about creating a list to my title. So. many things to look forward to from your list. There’s so much more space and I like your use of space for your ode.
Thank you for hosting today, Stefani. I like your options. I’d love to hear what people might title this, but I decided to go with something that I think adds another detail about this harrowing true story.
November 2, 2021
two teens
angry about a bad grade,
lie in wait along a wooded path
for 66-year-old Nohema Graber
murder her with a baseball bat
one realizes she’s still alive
beats her until she dies
mission accomplished, they drag her body
from the trail, hide her beneath
a tarp; railroad ties
today, two 16-years old plead guilty
for taking the life of Nohema Graber,
enjoying a routine walk in November,
angry about a bad grade
two Iowa teens
Barb Edler
19 April 2023
Barb,
OMG! This is a horrifying narrative. Your reportorial style, as well as dividing the poem into three stanzas the way one would divide an essay into three parts, makes the story more bone chilling. And that this all happened over grades just leaves me speechless. Superb poem.
I think your title is fitting for such a horrifying event. Not only does it give us an extra detail,
it adds to the gravity of the poem. Stripped of all poetic devices, the poem becomes a savage indictment of the teens’ cruelty which is in direct contrast to Nohema, enjoying a routine walk in November. A powerful poem. Powerful.
My gosh. This is just raw horror, these teens angry about grades and taking their frustrations out on the world in totally horrific ways. You bring it to life, and leave my dropped jaw on the floor.
Barb, this is a sickening, terrifying tale. This was the impetus for murder?! My stomach is in knots. I simply do not understand, it is a story bereft of humanity. Your title offers this sense of ‘just another day,’ which adds to the chill of the story. Your detailed, unemotional recitation of the tale adds immeasurably to the cold sadness. Wowsa. Powerful writing, Barb.
Barb, again, I believe you write mystery/scary/frightening poetry like an expert! The story is horrifying! All I can think right now is “cold-blooded” but it doesn’t mean that should be the title. I like your choice.
😔
Barb-oof–I remember this story. Your stanzas–beginning/middle/end are so calmly told that the horror of it is magnified. What is going on in our world?
Barb, what a horrendous story. Thank you for honoring Nohema’s memory with this poem. I wish I could say it was surprising, but we had a similar incident happen in our community a few years back — luckily, it didn’t result in a homicide, but it’s tragic how a decision like this can ruin so many lives.
Barb, I can never understand why people kill, but kill because of bad grades, it’s beyond anything I could’ve ever think. I think your title works here because the poem reminds me a newspaper report. I like Stacey’s title too, but then it would give out the content. Maybe “A Bad Grade”? It would lead the readers’ minds to some other inferences. Although yours is appropriate for the form and style.
Yes, your title adds another detail. I actually read the title after reading your poem and wondered if it was another current event that I had missed today. Seems like these things are happening way too often. There is a lot of anger and permission to express it nowadays. I can see that this is nothing new.
Barb, I hadn’t heard about this and am very disturbed. I can’t brainstorm a title because I am processing the hatred in our world. Thank you for honoring Nohema in this space today.
The story is horrific. I am in awe of how you tell this story. Your technique ups the tragic feel. I wish I never read it because it’s such a senseless tragedy, but I don’t think I will ever forget this.
Oh, Lord, have mercy! That is horrendous. The date is an effective title. Nohema Graber deserves so much; a poem is a start. I’m glad the boys pleaded guilty today.
Barb, this is so chilling and so well crafted. I love the mirroring that I see between your first stanza and the third one! This is such a horrific event that you convey so well! Thank you!
Thank you Stef, for these lovely mentor poems. I’ve never been very good at giving titles and am amazed at their power. I couldn’t decide how to present today’s poem so I offer two titles and the chance for the readers to decide. Thanks for this wonderful prompt and the opportunity to exhale my internal stressors.
Autumn Leaf or Old Woman
Despite endless hours spent
hanging around,
cavorting with friends,
I feel betrayed;
I’ve so much dancing yet to do!
Of course I feel my color change
and the ever-so-slight curl round
the margins of my being;
Of course I sense the shortening days,
and disinterest of the sun.
Awakened in the middle-of-each-night,
I feel a certain stiffness in my midrib,
a coolness in my veins.
Unable to fall back asleep, I wait.
I ponder the moon’s pure light.
I tremble.
Ann, I absolutely love your poem. I am this old woman. What a fantastic metaphor to show age. Setting the “I tremble” by itself adds so much power to the end, and I love the language you use throughout to describe the subjects such as hanging around, cavorting with friends, I feel betrayed, margins of being, disinterest of the sun, moon’s pure light. Truly incredible poem!
Ann, this is a poetic parallel to Lucille Clifton’s reflections in “Climbing,” I think. I played around with the same theme – my aging – and gave up (will write into this more another day, I hope). I love how you explore this! I especially love
I refuse to believe you or I am Old Woman. I like Autumn Leaf.
Ann–you are writing for many of us! The metaphor–and your development of it–is exquisite. I feel this to my core! I, too, have a lot more dancing left to do–and there is that tiny tremble as I consider what is to come.
Ann, this was GREAT! It captured both subjects so beautifully, truthfully, and eloquently!
Ann, thank you for providing two options–I am leaning toward autumn leaf. My favorite part is “curl round/the margins of my being”…what a great way to put this experience.
Ann, what a provocative title! I was able to read the poem twice, once as a leaf and once as me! “Awakened in the middle-of-each-night, I feel a certain stiffness…” Yes, that’s me. Brilliant title and poem.
Stef, thank you for the great prompt. The poems by Bertoni and Clifton are such good examples of how important titles are to the meaning. I added the title of my poem at the very end even though the poem isn’t as twisty and mysterious as I hoped it would be.
It begins with a rumble,
A jolt and stumble,
It creaks and moans
As I beg and barter with it
To take one step forward, two steps back,
A shuffle to the left, and push on ahead.
It fights with me at every turn,
Squeaking in protest as I nudge to either side,
But it never keeps straight,
Pulling to the right.
It sighs when I ask it to stop,
And sighs harder when I ask it to move again.
I’m not complaining though,
All it needs is a little love and ‘lottle’ maintenance.
Title: My Dad’s Nissan Altima
Saba,
Ha! I had no idea you’re riddling us a car, and o e that sounds like rattle trap at that, when I began reading your poem. Clever? indeed! Love the rhyme: rumble, stumble and the alliteration in little, love, lottle. Fun. poem. Tell your dad to get a new car!
Saba, I kind of like that you have your title at the end because I did not really know what your subject was. I loved the action and your sound words were marvelous. Very fun poem!
Love love love the surprise of this title, Saba! I feared you were writing about aging, lol. I adore the alliteration of “little love and ‘lottle’ “.
Saba, I could see this being a car before I reached the title — probably because I let my 16-year-old budding driver drive us home today, and this seemed so familiar! Great poem.
Very cool how you have personified this old car. Yes, I like the title at the end so that the reader is mystified.
Saba, you had me at “lottle,”–haha! For a moment I thought it was a shopping cart but rereading points directly to the Altima. Thank you for sharing today.
OMG, a car!!! You had me believing it could be your body aching (maybe because it describes my body)! Excellent choice!
This is me talking to my body!
I love this! The personification of this Altima. It seems so human; I like that. “Squeaking in protest” and “sighs harder when I ask…” “lottle” maintenance is a great term for the opposite of a little maintenance.
The One about the Childhood Dog or Maybe It’s Really about Memory and Love and Identity and a Little Bit about Loss, Too
My father,
high school teacher,
and later college
professor,
wrote his dissertation
on Shakespeare’s
Macbeth so it
is no wonder
why our family
dog, the wonderful
cockapoo, was
named Crab
(after the dog
in Two Gentlemen
of Verona) but she
proved to be every
bit the opposite
of the “cruel hearted
cur” in the play, see,
our Crab was such
stuff that dreams
were made on,
she has only
soft and warm
and happy thoughts
in my childhood
memory of “Family
Dog,” but I wonder
was she confused
or taken aback when
we kids would play
on the ground in the
living room, laughing
and calling out her name
while she would bounce
and bark and jump
around us, did she
ever stop and think
my people, whom
I love dearly,
are just so weird
I’m not a crab
I’m a dog.
_______________________________________________________
Stef, thank you for this prompt and your mentor poem! I loved all the “[i]n,” “[i]n,” “[i]n”s that led to the “Out” at the end! Now your prompt had me thinking about how I don’t often title my poems, so I started with that idea (of having a really long title) and I kinda just followed that path which, ultimately, led to Crab (and how I never really thought that she had an odd name until I was much older — and how I had forgotten about that “remembering” until this prompt). So, thanks, again. This was fun!
Being a dog lover, I love this poem. Your description of Crab as such stuff that dreams are made on not only echoes Shakespeare, but also reflects the nature of dogs I’ve known, dogs who sit with me when I write, who silently support my dreams just by being there. A beautiful tribute to Crab! and to childhood. and to family,
Scott,
Your title really gives you an idea of what your poem is about. I too have memories of a soft snuggly dog. Whose name happened to be Snuggles. 🙂 thank you for sharing today.
I love thinking about what animals are thinking of us –
I love the last lines. I wonder what our pets truly make of the names we give them? Excellent poem, and the Shakespeare allusion is excellent!
Oh my God, I just LOVED this. I breezed through it with pure glee from beginning to end, and jut lit up at the end.
Scott, I am glad your elongated title brought this memory forward and to this space today. I love the, should we call it humanification? of Crab’s thinking throughout your poem.
Fabulous start to finish, Scott – and now I dearly love this good-hearted ol’ dog named Crab. Friends of my family in the early 1970s had a black Lab named Thing (“They’re creepy and they’re kooky, mysterious and spooky…”).
Scott, how lovely this really long title is! But the poem about Crab and the sweet memories of this family member is just precious. That is such a funny thought about her wondering about the people naming her Crab. Fun!
Stefani,
I love thinking about titles and their potential meanings in all texts. This is something, particularly w/ poetry, I focused on when teaching AP Lit & Comp. I love the Bertoni poem and would love to teach it. Your poem has a fantastic title, and I love the way you’ve taken a common phrase and reinvented it to be about breathing. My poem yesterday isn’t really about the subject in the title.
Some Assembly Required
of these once upon
a time multifarious
lines boxed into
storyworlds before
commencing wordplay.
WARNING: Product
manufacturer not
responsible for damages
incurred during poeming
or other narrative
worldbuilding; not
recommended for users
prone to regret or
emotional sensitivity.
©all rights reserved
—Glenda Funk
April 19, 2023
Glenda,
I love this poem as a whole but especially for its punctuation and then the way the title is both the title and the first line. The assembling is the thing in the “during poeming” and “narrative/worldbuilding”!
Sarah
Glenda, this was so much fun to read! Wonderfully done.
Glenda, I am really captured by your opening lines especially “multifarious/lines boxed into/storywords”..wow, what a wonderful way to begin. I love the subtext that reading and writing poems takes a sort of energy not for the “prone to regret or/emotional sensitivity”. Your word play in this poem is phenomenal, and the “@all rights reserved” is a terrific final punch! I’m left to pondering about how writing or reading poems might incur damages. I think it certainly can.
Glenda, your title had me going another direction in my mind before I read the poem. I really enjoyed the direction your poem went, better than where I thought it would go. 🙂 Thank you for sharing today.
Glenda, the title is most fitting (no pun intended), and I always love the word poeming as a verb. I envision words as actual tools and assembly here and love the disclaimer about those prone to emotional sensitivity.
When I read today’s prompt, I thought immediately of your brilliant title/wordplay yesterday, about your new running shoes. You are awesome with titles! This is fabulous, Glenda. I adore the warning
Glenda,
Haha! Loved this and the way it played with message and tone.
And you assembled it perfectly, Glenda! I love how you play with words in this poem. Your “WARNING” part is so clever! Thank you for an enjoyable poem, yet another one ))
Glenda, you are so witty and I feel like this would be perfectly placed on the back of a poetic book…do you have one assembled yet? Thank you for sharing your worldbuilding with us today.
I love the title’s allusion to nefarious assembly instructions and the disclaimer in relation to the creation of poems, narratives, storyworlds… for one has the right to create as one will. This is a masterpiece, Glenda!
Glenda, I love your words here–real and coined. “Multifarious lines,” “storyworlds” and “poeming or narrative worldbuilding”
A good warning about damages, as writing is not safe. (Reminds me of what Mr. Beaver said about Aslan, “‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.” I feel we can say the same about writing and reading poetry.
Stef, this is a super fun prompt! And the inspiration poem stopped me in my tracks when I saw the title. Wow!
Help, this crazy lady keeps following me,
and I think she’s pretty close to figuring our my identity…
I see her when I’m running late.
So, most days.
She run-walks towards her
unknown destination.
Where is she running towards me?
What is she running from?
That remains unknown…
I just know that as
she goes this way,
I go that.
On a bright Spring morning,
she scoots by in a mini-skirt,
Waiting at a red light on a cool
September day,
She crests a hill in an
orange and auburn sweater.
A pelting rain
finds her in a clear plastic
babushka, and I’m compelled
to stop and offer an umbrella
but she’s too fast
and an umbrella would slow her down,
anyways.
On a snowy winter day,
when school should have been cancelled
I don’t see her, but i do see a set of
footprints which I find strangely terrifying.
I know that I remain anonymous,
a commuter, a car at a stoplight,
one among many,
but her presence on mornings
is one of the few dependables
that anchor my days amidst so many
unknowns.
(Originally, I called this “The Pedestrian”, I changed the order of two words in the first stanza, and changed the last word in the penultimate stanza from “reassuring” to “terrifying”)
Fantastic opportunity for reVISIONing today, and I can see how this is almost an entirely new poem with the framing at the beginning and this word “terrifying”. I kept checking my bias/projection in case it wasn’t a person but a bird or animal or something thinking the mini-skirt was some part of a bird’s coloring or that footprints might prove to be a crazy lady animal. This poetic exercise has me noticing my interpretive moves quite a bit.
Thanks for taking me along,
Sarah
Dave, I remember reading this poem before and I appreciate how you share your changes. I love the new title. It’s really engaging. The action and color of your poem is also vivid and inviting. Very provocative poem!
Dave, I didn’t see the original, but I loved the enigmatic feel of this one.
I remember this poem, Dave! What a wonderful transformation of meaning with a new title and one word change. I am amazed at the power of the title. Thank you for sharing this new version today!
Dave, my grandmother used to wear one of those plastic babushkas when it rained–thank you for bringing that memory forward. I so hope you can share this poem with her, maybe she would be frightened but the human connection of her knowing someone depends on her presence might make a world of difference.
She is your unicorn, Dave. The rare sighting of someone who is there, but we’re not sure what they mean. “The coincidence in I HEART HUCKABEES” (who also has Ger Duany as a Sudanese man, a coincidence, in the protagonist’s life. I love such strangers and I’m glad you notice them, too.
Hello Stef, I chose a poem written this month called “Sanquine Sequoia” and changed the title to “Savage Sequoia”. I only had to change a couple of words to completely reshape the image of this duet of trees. WOW!!! I’ve included both poems for comparison. The original poem is first, and also the photo that was posted the first time.
Sanguine Sequoia
Serendipitous day
We saw two sequoia trees
Duet silhouette
We thought it was us
Striving to be together
Without too much fuss
Scintillating time
Oh, what Sanquine solitude
Now in poem with rhyme
Savage Sequoia
Serendipitous day
We saw two sequoia trees
Duet silhouette
We thought it was us
Striving to be together
Without too much fuss
Scintillating time
Oh, where is Sanguine solitude?
Why it’s in this poem with rhyme!
Wow, what a difference a word makes with “savage” and I see the tree all anew, too!
Sarah
You have changed the whole meaning of the poem with one word – and one question mark. Love this, Anna! Love the photo, too.
Anna, love the subtle changes in words and how the titles provoked such different meanings! Also loved “duet silhouette” — what a great bit of rhyme!
One small change–two completely different poems. Nice! Even the trees look different the second time!
Anna, I am inspired by not only your play with the title but modifying the verse a tad to make a huge difference. What a great model to consider for our students.
Stef, I loved your beautiful poem with its rich and jaunty directionality.
What a great prompt! One of my favorite poetry activities is to give the kids a copy of Sylvia Plath’s “Mushrooms” with no title on it and have them discuss what they think it means before I finally reveal the title: their interpretations are astounding! Then we discuss how titles can both limit and direct poems.
I felt a luc bat calling me today:
A lolling tongue of green.
he years to stay unseen – and then
she begs him to, again,
take charge of pen, of words
that skirt around and flirt
with meaning thought absurd, in part:
He opens up his heart –
Reluctant, sees his art untamed…
Oops! second line should be “yearns”
Wendy, I just learned what a luc bat poem form is from you. This is gorgeous. I love your internal rhyme. So much to love here:
And yet I have questions. Will you post a title later?
I will! I’d love to hear yours!
I did not know this poetry form! This is playful and fun. Love the sound of ‘r’ sounds repeating throughout these two lines
I love the idea of readers making what they will of a poem (thank you, Louise Rosenblatt, my hero!), so I hesitate so name this, but I will tell you that when I wrote it I was first looking at the stretching, straining “tongue” of a mother-in-law tongue plant in my room and that led to my writing about the difficulty of encouraging my young students to express themselves through poetry, especially the boys who think it’s not cool…but then who write a gem of a piece. 😉
I wrote my response before reading this, love the tongue as the leaf of a plant!
Wendy, this is a new form I am not familiar with. I am lost with the green tongue and cannot wait for a reveal. I love, “…his art untamed.” Thank you for writing today.
Hi, Wendy! I, too, use Plath’s “Mushrooms” occasionally in my classes, and you are right, students’ interpretations are surprising. Your poem makes me think of some plant, maybe a flower with the green “tongue” and petals “skirt” around it. I guess with “pen” and “words,” the flower opens up to its full blossom. I might be way off, but it’s an interesting riddle. Thank you!
Leilya, you were right on — see my note! 🙂
She followed me everywhere I went
As purple flowers of youth went by
While I was down to the house again
She watched the brook with a golden eye
She stood a night before the window
Of her home on the crystalline air
A passionate light which hung below
Her smile was not so very fair
Freedom and beauty once held her gold
Aroused her with some happier thoughts
Suns for a spot where all tulips hold
Kept her young soul in a word of thought
My Aging Rosie (a cat)
Inspired by Robert Frost, Edgar Allan Poe, and Ralph Waldo Emerson
I have never used the Verse by Verse AI before. An interesting experience! Thanks for this prompt today, Steph.
Susan, I just looked at Verse by Verse. It is an interesting AI collaboration tool, not just letting AI compose for you but giving you freedom to work with the muses. Sweet poem about “My Aging Rosie.”
Beautiful:
I, too, as I age, am fond of a rest in the sun and losing my self in thought – I am a cat, I think! This is a precious poem.
Susan, thank you for sharing out your product from this tool. How would you imagine you’d cite it from your end? Would you cite the prompt? Just something I keep hearing in conversation. I love that you still were able to keep the title as a twist at the end.
Your questions about how to cite the prompt has me thinking. I really don’t know since it was quite a collaboration with me writing a line and the AI giving me quotes to choose from. I wonder if each line should cite the author of the quote. Hmmm.
Stefani, thank you for the provocative prompt today. I enjoyed rereading Bertoni’s poem knowing what it was about. Wow–so much better. Your poem is fun to read knowing the Eject is coming. Nice: “Increase mind-set”
I wonder if readers can guess what the missing word in my title is. (I tried to use the spoiler [+] and put the title under my poem.)
——————————-
A Fibonacci Poem on Being ______
Here
minds
crush life
Delirious
with fear of losing–
Don’t drive. Don’t ring. And don’t mistake.
Oh, oops, now I get it! I was supposed to write something else on top, and the word I was hiding would have been hidden!
Denise,
You’ve been writing some excellent responses to recent gun violence. The final line is a sad warning to young people:
”Don’t drive. Don’t ring. And don’t mistake.” Heartbreaking.
Denise,
I really like this exercise of withholding a word in the title, and also think the poem works with a blank, too. The blank, for me, is the absence of so many lives and also the lack of sanity in policies. Having this plus at the bottom is, to me, its own poetic device, too. So many really cool things happening with a serious subject.
Sarah
Denise, wow, I love how you pared this poem down from the other day. It’s ending line is fantastic and incredibly powerful. “don’t mistake”….haunting!
So powerful, Denise. I am struck especially by “minds/crush life” – “what are we thinking?!” is a question I ask myself all the time about gun violence. Just sickening.
Denise! That last line made my brain light up; I was like, I just heard the driveway story yesterday and the front door story the day before. Truly horrible — and completely preventable — events. I just wasn’t expecting them in your poem and then to have them both in that last line: “Don’t drive. Don’t ring. And don’t mistake.” So powerful!
Oof. What a response to yesterday’s news. As a mom of two young woman driver’s that story absolutely froze me with fear,
Wow. Scared old men with guns. this poem reflects what I have been fretting about all day. What is safe, any more?
Denise, I love that you were trying to use the spoiler tool here! I almost think “armed” could act as a double entendre. Thank you for bringing this topic into our space today.
Stefani – you gave my brain a workout this morning. I tried a nonet and then got some ideas from the Verse by Verse AI website. It really made no sense – you I relied on my
human brain! Thank you!
From Yesterday’s Poem: Magnolia blooms outside my window
Magnolia blooms outside my window,
Magenta fingers touch the sky,
Precious buds of rosy hours,
Sweet morning rhapsody,
Words of the wood sing –
Warm, vibrant voice,
Bright Rosy
Glow of
Spring!
Joanne, lovely! Your poems from today and yesterday holding hands across the hours. The music and singing in your poem are sweet. I love “rosy hours”
Love…words of the wood sing and the rhyme spring! I can feel the enthusiasm when spring is in the air.
Joanne, loved it…just as much as I loved yesterday’s!
Joanne, I love the potential and imagery of magenta fingers touching the sky. I appreciate that you tried the AI and realized it wasn’t for you or your magnolias. Thank you for sharing.
Are you accepting reservations for houseguests? This view is SOOOOO inviting. Thanks for sharing it. I’m smiling as I write as I envision the blooms.
Thank you, Stef, for this prompt. I decided to go with a misreadable title.
Cutting Curbs
Everyone benefits from
Curb cuts,
Breaking the barrier
Between sidewalk and street.
Everyone benefits from
Curb cuts.
Bikers, strollers, skateboarders,
Those balancing their home in a grocery cart
Or pushing hand trucks or moving furniture
Or pulling little red wagons,
People in wheelchairs
Toddlers, elderly people…
You and I,
Everyone benefits from
Curb cuts.
Katrina, clever title. It is like cutting carbs, but also I like that it seems like a spoonerism too. Yes, to your poem and universal design! Everyone benefits!
Katrina, I must say when I read your title, I thought you were going to say something about cutting carbs and not really about curbs. It’s true, curb cuts are beneficial. Very fun repetition and specific examples of how curb cuts benefit others.
Very clever wordplay in your title! What a sad image, here – “Those balancing their home in a grocery cart.” Without a doubt, we all benefit from this kind of city planning.
Katrina, too funny! I think your topic was great — a unique rumination on a quirky subject!
Katrina, we talk about UDL so much in education that we often forget it’s mother–universal design in architecture. Thank you for sharing this view and your verse this way.
This is a nonet.
Title: Peter Gets Twenty Years in French Horn Case
You studied at Oberlin College
One of the hardest instruments
You played professionally
With steady flow of air
A clear mellow sound
Virtuoso
You loved it
Hated
Horn
Ah, love this … even the hated horn ….(is it really, though?)
Jennifer, I love the headline title. Clever use of case. “steady flow of air / a clear mellow sound” Beautiful!
A moment of fate–my son committed to Oberlin last night (and one of our friends nicknamed him Virtuoso when he started playing the violin)! I love the sleuth-y title and the lines, “You played professionally/ With steady fow of air”. Very cool!
Dave,
Congrats to your son! Peter loved it there.
Jennifer,
I love poems w/ titles that have key words that don’t appear in the poem. Love the contrast in the final lines:
“You loved it
Hated
Horn”
Jennifer, such a play of the words in this nonet that makes perfect sense and is exciting! Congratulations to your son!
Haha: the title! I laughed aloud.
Jennifer, I appreciate the humor and memory tied into your title and nonet. Thank you for sharing this way today.
Stef, I should title my life right now, “$#@#@$!!! Crandall, You’re going to be late for the meeting.” But this is a delicious excuse. I am ‘pressing eject’ with you. I loved the thought of a pivoting reply and I believe that’s how we’ll all respond today. Truth is, last night, as we did a body biography of characters in Kwame Alexander’s THE DOOR OF NO RETURN, I drew a shirtless Koffi Offin and reflected, “I think these are the first nipples I’ve ever drawn.” Obviously, it triggered this poem for a dear friend…memories from my 20s.
Perhaps the best nights
were when we played
Danish scrabble,
making up words
& definitions
as if we were
rinsing our mouths
with marbles
and singing folk songs
with Lars Kuprik Bäckman.
It seemed obvious to us
that mothers gurgled baby-names
at Nordic birthing ceremonies.
We only needed rustic, Viking inflections.
Kids named Bō-õb, Pen-ís, A-nūs,
Testíclēs, and Vagïnâ.
on our rosters.
In the skürvogn where we slept
by open windows
& barking magpies,
we listened
to Ulla’s chickens
clucking
for Magnum bars.
(like Hans Christian Anderson,
both of us terrified of being buried alive).
We’d yell Skål
with emerald bottles
placing tiles &
nonsense words in squares
as we pondered larger
questions in life –
ones Billy Goldberg & Mark Leyner
later answered for us.
And upon the udhus throne
I’d count the glowing cows
grazing before the white lights of Roskilde,
always hoping spiders & snakes
would never be part of this poem.
While Drawing a Nīpple (I Think We Taught Him)
(for Tiana)
~b.r.crandall
Bryan, I hope you’re able to share your poem with Tiana. Your specific imagery and details are robust and inviting. I especially appreciated the image of the mothers gurgling their baby-names.
I did, Barb. Found her online (20 years later) and sent this to her.
Loved the vivid scene this sets with your beautiful language — funny, wistful, a gem.
Bryan, this is hilarious and enjoyable. I think your kid names are my favorite, mostly because it sounds more like teens naming children versus someone in their 20’s…but no judging here. Thank you for being late to your meeting for us today. I look forward to your nipple drawing and poem in your next Twitter post!
Wow, Stef! Your poem really made me slow my breathing down…how did you do that? I’ve always been intrigued by titles…I worked at a publishing company for awhile, and we were always told to pay special attention to the title because it’s so easy to make mistakes in it and the eye tends to gloss right over it. (Of the editor, that is…not the public!)
I started thinking about the word “title,” then the word “entitled” and what it actually means. My husband and I are actually a Lord and Lady…we are the proud owners of 2 square feet of land in Scotland! <grin>
Entitled
Why, hello there!
Allow me to introduce myself–
I am Lady Julie,
and this is Lord Tom.
Welcome to our country estate
here,
in the lovely Scottish
kingdom of Fife.
We are what’s commonly known as
“landed gentry”–this
estate came into our family line
in 2018– it says so right here,
on this ever-so-fancy plaque
that hangs on our wall.
Our estate borders the
majestic Blairadam Forest–
we have encountered but
a few of the local denizens,
as our “country pile” is rather
remote.
I would ask you in for a
cup of tea, but
there’s simply no place at the table
for common folk…
or anyone else, for that matter.
Julie, this gave me a chuckle this morning with its playful wink of a title. Loved it, and congratulations on your land acquisition! XD
Julie, how fun is this! Your poem is both playful and witty. We are headed to Scotland this summer. Maybe we will step into your two feet (how is it even possible to own just that amount?).
Lady Julie, this is interesting, do you have a picture to share? I also appreciate how you came to the title and topic. Thank you for writing with us today.
Julie, wow, you show so well the white privilege concept through your poem. I could hear a British accent while reading your poem. The specifics of the estate add a lovely layer to your poem, and then your end is simply a big smack in the face. Powerful poem!
Julie! You got me! Why not add this visit to our next trip to the Isle! Then, Wham! I’m not common but I don’t want to be around those who wouldn’t want me if I were! 🙂
Stefani—I swear your poem slowed my breathing down! I decided to go with the delayed title approach. This is a really interesting way of approaching poems. It would be fun to try in the classroom…
I can feel your eyes on me,
watching my every breath. I
I stay very, very still,
for if I give a hint of life,
it will be over for me.
I hear you breathing.
I sense the intensity
of your gaze, close by,
as I ponder my next move.
What should I do?
Do I continue
to play possum
or do I deal
with the inevitable?
I can’t lay still forever.
I shift.
And the bedclothes
explode.
(Time to Let the Dogs Out)
Gayle Sands
04/19/2023
Gayle, the first title I thought of was “The Spider.” LOL! But your title is so apt — my daily experience, though, involved a feline…
Gayle, your last two lines “bedclothes/explode” tricked me for a bit–love it! Thank you for sharing and playing along today.
Gayle,
This is cool! The ratcheting up of tension, at first made me think of a slasher movie, then, after the second stanza, a breakup. I actually exhaled at the title!
Gayle,
Ive been living your poem w/ our new dog the past few days. Stanley Tucci is four and has figured out how to use the doggie doors, but he won’t go out by himself. That last stanza is so fun. One movement and you have no choice but to get up. Great decision to put the title at the end.
“for if I give a hint of life,
it will be over for me. ” – I didn’t know whether to be terrified or to smile! Excellent title and poem.
Gayle, oh my, I had a great laugh by the end of this. You really drew me in, wondering about what kind of situation you were in here. Loved “watching my every breath” and “I sense the intensity/of your gaze”. Very clever and fun poem!
Gayle, so cute! I could picture those sweet pups eyeing you, hoping for a sign of life. It was fun to read it and gradually figure out what it was about.
Stef, your poem works wonders! Oh my goodness – – I slowly read your nonet inhaling all the way until the last line, out, and it could be a therapy poem. It’s like a calming drug. My mother suffered severe anxiety, and two of my children do also. They have the anxiety whistles, and they know how to draw the three sided triangle slowly, inhaling until they get back to the top to close the shape, but this – this poem! It does the trick AND gives the mind the positive messages as you go. Try it! I chose Option #3, a riddle-type poem (Haiku two lines short of a Haiku sonnet), open-ended, to invite readers to title this poem AND to add two seven-syllable lines to make it a true Haiku sonnet if they wish. I’ll title it on my blog this morning at kimhaynesjohnson.com, and I’ll return through the day to see how others titled the poem. Thank you for hosting us today! What fun you bring to us!
never have I met
anyone who on first taste
liked the bitter taste
sipping piping hot
aromatic wakefulness
swallowing its truth
ah, but sip by sip
its addiction is for real~
can’t live without it!
Kim,
FOR REAL. lol. “Swallowing its truth” was a great phrase and rang true with this coffee addict. I loved the love in this for our shared addiction — off to get mine right now!
Kim, I was thinking ‘tea time’ for my own love for tea and others’ dislike (and thinking about Ted Lasso in case you watch that:)). The addiction to flavor is for real! Thank you for sharing and I will look into your blog for the title!
Kim,
I”f add the lines
“morning cup of joe
taste of heaven to go” 🤣 corny, I know.
I’m sure I’ll find much better lines on your blog. I do love these lines of yours best:
“aromatic wakefulness
swallowing its truth”
I remember awakening to the smell when my dad was living.
Coffee is like a martial art -form in your poem. Love the slow deliberate nature of your poem!
I could totally relate and understand your poem. Love that you ended with “can’t live without it!” “Swallowing its truth”…now that’s a powerful line! Brilliant!
I’m thinking it is coffee! Here’s a title – “Bitter truth”? I also think this poem could be a metaphor for – starting a new workout regiment, lol. (Yes, I’m trying to ramp up my exercise routine.) The opening haiku summarizes how challenging it is to start any new-‘good for you’ habit:
Kim – a fun challenge here! I haven’t peeked at your blog so I am going to give titling a go. Here’s two, at the moment:
Livin’ the Brewtiful Life
If There’s No Coffee in Heaven, I’m Not Going
—I will be back if more inspiration strikes!
Me too, can’t live without it 🙂 Thank you, Kim, this is a true, and we know it. Love the second stanza:
“sipping piping hot
aromatic wakefulness
swallowing its truth”
Too late for another cup of coffee today ))
the waiter brings mussels, steamed and sea fresh
the path winds woodward, just wide enough for two
the screen fills the darkness, in color and sound
the hand reaches for the other, fingers in connection
the cafe sits in invitation, filled yet intimate
the conversation bounces, back and forth and back
the beach surpasses endlessness, sunsets in watered color
the moon slips in each night, silent (just ever so)
Stefani, I like the idea of playing with titles. Kids often see them as an afterthought. My mind is filling with the ways their significance can be explored with students (maybe removing titles from several poems and having kids match title to poem as another option).
*I went with the Bertoni idea and am leaving the title reveal until now:
there is nothing so lonely as alone
Jennifer, what a twist of a title! It seems so romantic until…..loneliness. And I love the way the moon slips in each night, silent (just ever so) the way a spouse might do, night after night, loneliness building. What a perfect metaphor this moon is, the way I perceive the lines after reading the title. The moon and the title really does change it all.
Jennifer – that title reveal slammed me hard. Wow. It makes all the difference (the title not taken, lol). I read your lines in appreciation the first time and admired their beauty; the second time, knowing the title – I felt such pain and longing. So well-done!!
Jennifer, your use of certain words, “two, intimate, reaches,” play a trick in what your title reveals at the end. Thank you for this today.
Jennifer, I am struck by how this title would really set off a different feeling had I read it before your poem. Way to put the experiment to the test. Loved “the moon slips in each night, silent (just ever so)” Such a melancholy tone when you know the title.
Song Cycling
I’ve slow-pedaled this thing for
years
each piece, something
spoke,
in lingering lyrics and subtle
chords,
a story, unspooling in
song,
and still, this project
remains
an abandoned bike,
broken,
until fingers stretch on
strings,
pushing melody against surface,
again
Kevin
(I have this music project – a cycle of songs and poems — that I started years ago that I just can’t seem to finish and I can’t seem to let go.)
Kevin, the image of “a story unspooling in song” – I love the sound and how the words sit together.
This endeavor reminds me of the task of writing interesting titles to blog posts, and how to capture the essence in a few words. It’s easy to forget that the title is an entry into a piece of writing, and the craft of being creative, maybe a bit mysterious, inviting and more is tricky. In the old days of newspapers (I was a reporter for years), the editors who wrote headlines were always under pressure to be catchy and concise.
Kevin
Truth about the post titles, Kevin!
Kevin, I love the songs that will only emerge in their time. They weren’t ready then. They may not be ready right now, either, but they will be ~ in their own time, because…..timing is everything. In music and in life. Lovely!
Kevin, love the metaphor here, and I really love how this read when I just read down it and only read the single words —
Does this project want to be finished… or is the process the gift? Thinking aloud (ok, on the screen). I should tell you how many stories and things I’ve started that I want to get back to in this very same way…
Kevin, the word “cycling” is perfect for your reflective note at the end of this. Your phrase, “lingering lyrics” is an intriguing part of this cycle as well.
Kevin,
The way you evoke sound with your words is pretty amazing–it makes me want to hear the project that you have in the works! The line
is such a great image and play on words, clever and then sincere as you move into the next lines. “Unspooling” is a great image too!
Kevin,
Excelkent title. A perfect metaphor for your project. I have a spin bike so understand we’ll the peddling and going nowhere. Love that your poem ends in hope.
Stef, this light and beautiful mentor text changes colors completely when the title is given. The mood shifts, earthquake-like, from fanciful to haunting and aching. I love your nonet and its title, for we do need to “press eject” on negativity and stressors and general toxicity that oppress us. Thank you for this invitation today… i shall be short and sweet (?) with a new offering.
Dearly Beloved
we are gathered here today…
nothing more to say.
*******
Title:
At Poetry’s Funeral
(don’t worry, y’all. It’s immortal).
Oh so clever, Fran. I wanted to fill in “so dawn goes down to day” after your last line. It’s fascinating to see how others craft from a prompt! Our brains take us all places and yours landed in concise perfection today.
Succinct!
Fran, I love this Haiku! I’m so glad that poetry is indeed immortal, like a Jericho Flower that when watered springs back to life immediately. But…..if it were not……oh, how sad. You cleverly crafted this one with thought and a twist!
Haha! This gave me a laugh today — and it made me think about how poetry does die by small cuts each time my students say, “Can I just write a haiku??” to finish writing their poem quickly. (Me: “No! We’re writing a triolet!”). LOL. Thanks, Fran!
“No! We are writing a triolet!” How much do I love that?? Let me count the ways!
Fran, loving the title, it adds so much meaning to your tight prose. Thank you for sharing today.
Fran,
This use of irony is well played. I’m not so sure about the jk part given the incursion of AI into our writing lives.
Packs a punch. I love how you crafted this Haiku. Your poem resurrects…
Fran, this is so perfect: short and sweet, but just right!
Sunday.School.Sheology.
I
stand up,
straight and tall,
outside Eden.
Awaiting inspect
and expecting rebuke.
The plum line was bowing
and now stands to be corrected
under the watchful gaze of Mother.
Oh! I can feel the severity. I’m struck by how the shape of your poem reflects the standing tall (I) and the gradual slump toward plum line bowing. I appreciate that the verb choice repeats from action in line two to figurative in line 8. And dang it all, somehow if we’re outside Eden, religiously it’s going to be blamed on the woman.
The plum line was bowing
Dang. Nice line, Paul.
Kevin
Paul, I’m there! Your imagery and your ability to bring us to the moment, to tremble a little bit for those awaiting inspection, expecting rebuke, gives us eyes and ears – – and heart!
This was great! I keep rereading it, and every time I imagine something different. Love the resonance with the Tree of Life here: “The plum line was bowing”
Too cool! Great poem!
I have always been amazed by what different people are able to see in poems (one of my own teachers in high school wrote “Exhaustive analysis!” on a poem I interpreted). Reading yours, Paul, part of me wants to mourn that “nothing gold can stay” for all the brokenness we suffer, for how much of it we inflict upon each other and ourselves, and how our innermost selves crave a place of equilibrium and peace. Poetry is like a path in that direction, cutting through all this pain. The other part of me – with that last line – envisions mothers of yore sitting in church with an eagle’s eye on the kids… as in y’all straighten up or else…
Paul, your use of “Sheology” starts this off with a strength that supports this nonnet; and the end with Mother tops off that piece of the title as well.
Paul,
Im in the corner applauding your “Sheology.” Brilliant word, BTW. “Outside Eden” provokes many thoughts in my mind. I’m thinking of several interpretations of “Mother,” but I hope you’re honoring women w/ the use of the capital, and I love the plum li e reference as symbol for the way patriarchy has broken the foundations of our homes. I’m glad you’re here and I love this poem.