This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. We gather every month for five days and daily in April — no sign-ups, no fees, no commitments. Come and go as you please. The hosts are educators and authors who generously volunteer to craft writing ideas for us! All that we ask is that if you write, you respond to others. Mirror to them your readerly experiences — beautiful lines, a phrase that resonate, ideas stirred. And enjoy. (Learn more here.)
Our Host
Stacey L. Joy is a National Board Certified Teacher, Google Certified Educator, L.A. County and LAUSD Teacher of the Year with 39 years of elementary classroom teaching experience. She currently teaches 5th grade at Baldwin Hills Gifted Magnet and Pilot School. Teaching her Joyteam Stars the power of their history, self-advocacy, justice, and joy are the core of her practice. Stacey is teacher tired but not yet retired. She says she will know it’s time to retire when she stops having first day of school jitters.
Inspiration
Back in April 2021 for Verselove, our Ethical ELA friend, Dr. Kim Johnson, prompted us to write a mirror poem by finding words from another poet to use in our original poems. I fell in love with You, too, Can Fly by Zetta Elliot. And I fell deeper in love with the Etheree as my form. It’s Black History Month, and my heart longs for hope during such difficult times. I know our ancestors left us with hope. It’s up to us to find it and spread it.
Process
Find a poem, article, excerpt from a book, song or any inspiring piece to write your poem. Jot down a few lines that resonate with you, and compose an etheree poem. Let the etheree mirror what inspired you. The etheree form follows this rule:
Line 1: one syllable
Line 2: two syllables
Line 3: three syllables
Line 4: four syllables
Line 5: five syllables
Line 6: six syllables
Line 7: seven syllables
Line 8: eight syllables
Line 9: nine syllables
Line 10: ten syllables
If you prefer to write with another form or no form at all, it is your choice.
Mentor Poem and Excerpt
You, too, Can Fly (Zetta Elliot reads her poem)
The excerpt that inspired my poem:
“When our ancestors
Had no cheek left to turn
They walked into
The sea
Or stepped into
The sky”
Stacey’s Poem
For All Who’ve Lost Hope
Walk
into
the blue sea
dance on water
step into the sky
ride waves & caress clouds
tsunami of lightning bolts
ancestral songs beckoning us
we rise, we soar, we flow, we shower
Earth and humanity in joy and hope
©Stacey L. Joy, 4/7/21 revised 1/26/25
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. 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. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
Stacey, thanks for the opportunity to share today!
Day by day, they practice
studied unconcern for
children in their own building
(Those who stay home, lest
ICE come knocking at the
school’s doors) (Those who
see future medical care
slip away) (Those who see
choices eroded) Hope lies
heavy on their hearts for the
sweet success of their stock
portfolios, for their shares in
bitcoin, for retribution for
imagined sins against them.
Day by day, we enfold
them to our hearts
(Those who struggle with
English) (Those who take
Pride in their identities)
(Those who choose to fight)
Hope lingers lightly in our hearts,
for the sweet successes we see
daily: words learned, a classmate
who greets them in Spanish,
a kind word passed after a
lesson in understanding,
a plan to stand up, stand out, give back
despite the odds against them.
PS: The inspiration for my poem was the form of Sylvia Plath’s poem, “The Mirror.” 🙂
Hi Wendy,
Ohhhh, this is fire:
And what a phenomenal turn towards hope:
We stand up!! Love this, Wendy!
Watching the 50th anniversary of SNL show. Paul Simon singing “Homeward Bound”. I’ve always been struck by the line “shades of mediocrity.”
All My Words Come Back to Me
once
my words
calming salve
healing hurt hearts
then, my mouth went mute
and my pen took over
shades of mediocrity
with no winks, no smirks, no head nods
to make more sense of my sentiments
face-to-face, my eyes telling the real truth.
~Susan Ahlbrand
16 February 2025
Susan, your poem is saying a great deal. I’m sure we all have those moments when our mouths went/go mute. Some situations warrant that. I too, watched Paul Simon sing tonight. I like that you wrote, “mouth went mute and pen took over..” and that your said your words can be a “calming salve..” I enjoyed reading it.
Hi Susan,
I didn’t see your poem last night. Thanks for sharing and for giving time to my prompt. I absolutely adore the opening:
I didn’t know where you were taking me. I think it’s a perfect turn. Sometimes, our pens need to do the work, but we miss so much without the human gestures. Very interesting, Susan. I didn’t watch SNL, (too late for me) but hope to catch the replay.
Susan, love the inspiration for this and the end result. Thought-provoking, thoughtful, and revealing, indeed. Loved this.
Thanks Stacey,
Inspiration is from American Dirt by Cummins
“Most of the migrants have backpacks and grim faces. They’re a thousand miles into their journeys already, weeks from Tegucigalpa or San Salvador or the mountains of Guatemala. They‘re from cities or villages or el campo. Some speak the languages of K’iché or Ixil or Mam or Na-huatl. Luca likes to listen to the foreign sounds, the peaks and rolls of the words he doesn’t understand.”
The Journey
migrants
grim faces
a thousand miles
foreign tongues speaking
attach your own meaning
placing their lives in God’s hands
from villages, cities, el campo
riding on The Beast, for safe travel
invoking the blessing of all the saints
Hi Susan,
I pray for all migrants and for us too…”placing their lives in God’s hands…” 💜
Hi Susan, thanks for reminding me about all of the moments many migrants encounter and experience on their journey. I have a new student, a sweet innocent “migrant” and there are challenges galore. Your words remind me of what she and her family have possibly endured. Your last line really touched me.
Susan, a fellow teacher studies this book with her class, and I haven’t read it yet, but it’s on my to-read list. Your poem moved it to the top of my pile. Beautiful imagery in your poem.
Well, Joy. You got us thinking and then writing tightly. Here’s my draft. It is based on the theme from Jesse Jackson’s run for US president and a poem by Tupac Shakur, “The Rose That Grew from Concrete” (Note the picture.) This can be about personal, political or personal thinking.
LIE OR LAY?
Lies
Hope lies.
Lie or Lay?
Who really can say?
My hope lies in staying.
Wondering or worrying which is true
The answer lies within me and you
Is hope a lie? Does hope truly lay?
What can we do to show that we know
That it takes faith to keep hope alive and thrive
A perfect message for today, Anna. “My hope lies in staying” says it for me. Yes, it does take our faith.
I firmly believe we are the roses growing from concrete, Anna. Thank you!
Anna, loved the blending of these two sources!
Stacey,
Thank you for your prompt and your poem. I love the sense of peace and hope conveyed in your poem, especially these lines:
“Walk
into
the blue sea
dance on water”
Listen
Inspired by “The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry
When
darkness
provokes fear
and deep despair,
lie still in nature
listen to Earth’s beauty.
discover the stillness of water.
uncover harmony in wild things.
bask in day-blind stars and the gibbous moon.
“bask in day-blind stars and the gibbous moon”! Such a great line, Tammi!
Thanks for reminding us of the power of nature in your lines
”lie still in nature
listen to Earth’s beauty”
That ‘s a little tough for us, here in the Midwestern winter, but just the time I think there are not sounds due to deep snow, a small flock of birds will ascend on the berry tree outside my window! The beauty to me is seeing flock eating the berries from the tree tops and the deer nibbling berries that have fallen atop the snow!
How gorgeous and filled with hope! I love the imagery and peace in your poem. Nature gives us the peace we all seek.
Read [etheree]
Go
ahead—
open the
banned book, turn the
page to her-story,
be like Cassandra, rise
like Maya, lead your sisters
out of his new Gilead as
Margaret inspires us to do. Write
into a new resurrection of hope.
Glenda Funk
2-16-25
Inspired by “The First Book” by Rita Dove
“The First Book” – Partners in Rhyme
Glenda, I love the way you open this poem. The invitation is perfect. Love the allusions and that last line is what we need more than ever a “resurrection of hope”. Powerful poem that students need to read!
Glenda, I love how you channeled Rita Dove with a twist to banned books. All the references you make are relevant. The final “Write / into a new resurrection of hope” sounds to me as both a call for action and a promise.
Your poem is inspiring, Glenda. I love the idea of leading your sisters out of this new Gilead.
Glenda, your poem is extremely encouraging. It’s a crusade that is necessary (for us to write those books). Thanks for the introduction to Rita Dove.
Glenda — I love how your words spark action by daring one to do what others try to prohibit them from doing “Go/ ahead– open the/banned book.” You’ve made resisting so alluring. I love it!
This is another clarion call for all!!! Thank you, Glenda! I absolutely love the Rita Dove poem too! Thank you, Glenda! Let’s do this!
Hi, Stacey! Thank you for hosting today, for reminding me of Zetta Elliot’s poem, and for your beautiful mentor poem that bring a meditative relief by it hopeful tone.
These lines from “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou are an inspiration for my etheree poem today. I also borrowed the notion of “ancestral” from your poem:
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Rooted, Yet Rising
Dark
Days may
Come to us
With certainty
Trying to break our hopes
Shaped by the years of fight.
Rooted in ancestral wisdom,
We’ll create promising tomorrow
The future is ours to claim—let us rise!
Leilya,
I almost chose this same poem, but you have written a more beautiful poem than I could have. I know you know we are in those dark days. Your poem gives me hope. It’s beautiful like you. 🥰
Love the affirmations in your poem, Leilya. Your end has me saying, “Heck, yes!” I really enjoyed “Rooted in ancestral wisdom”.
Leilya,
While recent events have made the world seem very bleak, I do “we’ll create promising tomorrow” and “the future is ours to claim”. Thank you for your inspiring words! I’m trying to remain hopeful that the tide will turn.
Leilya, thank you for this! I love the repetition and alliteration throughout — “Rooted” and “Rising,” “Dark / Days,” “may / Come,” “ancestral wisdom, / We’ll create” — this is so well crafted! And I love the line (and sentiment) of “We’ll create promising tomorrow”!
Leilya, your poem reminds of the value of teaching the truth about history. Nurturing the root of each student ‘s heritage shows the wisdom of their ancestors and gives them courage to keep learning. And, knowing we can rise TOGETHER shows we don’t have crowd out others!
Yes, I love the title so much!
We will rise, friend, we will rise!
💜
Satisfaction Sits on the Doorstep of Hell
By Mo Daley 2/16/25
the
beat
itudes re
mind me to be
a social justice
warrior and change a
gent, fighting righteously ev
ery day of my life living
empathetically and counter
culturally with loving compassion
Mo, let me begin with your title–wise observation–love it! I also can’t ignore how you broke down the word to fit the syllable count, but also made me slow down to carefully read the message. I think this idea of “living / empathetically and counter / culturally with loving compassion” should be our life compass. Thank you!
Mo,
Bravo! I love the breaks in words that underpin your point of hope and not breaking our will to be those change agents. I have thought of these verses often and quoted them often. If you haven’t read Bishop Budde’s book How We Learn to be Brave, snag a copy or the audiobook. It’s amazing.
Mo,
Great message! Love the line breaks. If only more people, especially those who say they are Christians, would actually read the Beautitudes with care and embody those characteristics, we would have a wonderful world.
Mo, your line breaks work perfectly, slowing us down to take in the message. Thank you.
Such a clever approach to today’s form, Mo. I think our nation needs a stern reminder of the beatitudes! Continue to be the social justice warrior, we need you.
Stacey,
I love the inspiration poem. Zetta is amazing! Your poem is inspirational. I think often of you and other black women who teach me how to find joy when I want to relinquish hope. I’ll share my poem later. Thanks for hosting today.
Glenda
Thanks, Glenda! Relinquising is not an option and I am grateful to have you as a warrior on the right side of justice! We will rise!
And I Have You by Donnetta Norris
(inspired by Nikki Giovanni’s poem with the same name)
Nikki’s Lines: “All and all / This much is true / You have me / And I have you.”
You,
I have.
You have me,
too. Like winter
has cold; sky has blue.
The stories of our book
will fill many more pages.
Embarking on more life stages.
Our love can pass the trials of life.
This remains true…You have Me and I, You.
Dedicated to my husband. May we each choose to set self aside and kindle a fire in our marriage that brings these words to life in us.
This is so simple and sweet. The form really suits your message, Donnetta. Did you share it with your husband?
Not yet, but soon.
Donnetta,
I see you’re extending the Valentine’s Day lovey-dovey theme! This is sweet. Hold tight to one another.
Donnetta, I wrote inspired by this poem yesterday in response to your prompt. Dedicating the poem to your husband is so sweet. I see hope in these lines:
”The stories of our book
will fill many more pages.”
Thank you for sharing!
Donnetta,
I love the rhythm, rhyme and tenderness of your poem. This seems like the perfect Valentines poem!
Oh, Donets, I thought you were writing about me and the other educators who so enjoyed your love prompt yesterday! Oh well, I don’t mind sharing you with your husband!
Yes. I’m kidding a little. 🙂
Donnetta, I remember a poem you wrote in the past and this one tells me you and your hubby can kindle that fire and burn a love oh so bright! Thank you for sharing.
Stacey, I love the empowering theme of your poem. The repetition and movement of “we rise, we soar, we flow, we shower” was very uplifting.
I was inspired by the following lines from Audre Lorde’s “Coal” –
“Some words live in my throat / Breeding like adders. Others know sun / Seeking like gypsies over my tongue / To explode through my lips / Like young sparrows bursting from shell.”
“Speak” by Shaun Ingalls
Speak.
Cry out!
Do not wait
For destruction.
The china shop bull
Is fueled by your silence.
Free the words stuck in your throat!
Let them all explode from your lips,
Like young sparrows bursting from their shells.
We must all scream out loudly for justice!
Beautiful and brilliant!!
Shaun, your call for action, for raising voice reinforced with exclamation points is inspiring. Indeed, “We must all scream out loudly for justice!” Thank you!
Shaun,
Love the power in these lines:
“Free the words stuck in your throat!
Let them all explode from your lips,”
Inspiring!
Yes, yes, yes!!!! Shaun, we must not remain silent!
Hello Stacey, my Sistah. Thanks for the enticing inspiration.
My mentor text is And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
Gifts
left from
ancestors
no longer here
broken history
and yet, my strength emerges
sassiness and growth advance.
From the ebony ocean, there’s
growth, awareness and recognition.
Write me down with grace, beauty, and wiseness.
Yes, Sistah, yes!! Love the feeling of hope and victory throughout your poem. We rise!!!!
I love it. Especially the sassiness, which is a quality the world needs a little more of.
Seana — these lines —
“From the ebony ocean, there’s
growth, awareness and recognition.
Write me down with grace, beauty, and wiseness.” — Just beautiful! I feel the hope and strength in your words.
I started with the words from Pablo Neruda’s poem “From the Heights of Machu Pichu.” Neruda’s words provide a monument to those workers.
Machu Pichu
I
come to
speak for your
dead mouth. Neruda
writes giving voice to
those who built Machu Pichu.
Reminding the reader that
great monuments were created
by the toil of the unremembered.
Rise up to be born with me, brother.
Wow, Jamie. You really make us think here. I love your poem and Machu Picchu.
Hi Jamie,
I need to go back to the Neruda poem. I love these lines because right now I feel as if the unremembered have great monuments to continue creating:
Stacey, your poem reminds me of the powerful heroine, Moana, befriending the ocean and bringing hope to her village. There’s something musical about it. I’ve chosen as my inspiration today Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem Kindness. The line is “Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things.” I am also reading Alan Gratz’s book Refugee at the moment, and the story of the family in Syria was the last piece I read before I fell asleep, and the image of dust stayed with me.
still here
hope
rescues
despair from
cave of rubble
exploded homes trapping
grey dust covers skin- statues-
eardrums pulse in the strange quiet
hands search the body- am I still here?
a hand pushing, rushing in air, light, life
Emily, I remember reading Refugee and I just read your mentor poem. Wow. We must lose things, in order to find better. As I was reading, these lines also resonated with me: “all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.”
My poem also discussed hope. When you mention hope and despair it also reminds me of the book, Beastly Beauty by Jennifer Donnelly. We all have hope; it may just be buried under all the hurt and pain we must endure to see it through. Thank you for sharing.
Hi Emily, I read your poem before seeing your inspiration and was taken to the homes that are charred and the people in dust searching through the rubble of their loss from our recent fires. Very visual and a strong poem.
I am pulled right in by “hope/rescues” as soon as my eyes saw the words. This is a powerful poem, Emily.
Stacey, thank you for this prompt. I actually wrote this ethereal the other day. Sorry, but it will not inspire hope. Etheree
The
Thing that
Bothers me
Is his grade school
Vocabulary,
Superlatives like great,
Monosyllables gone wild,
All serve his hateful rhetoric
Set the tone for unkind dialogue
And if words inspire action, God help us.
Katrina- I feel the anger seething from every line. I particularly enjoy “monosyllables gone wild” – like a little nod to the raunchy videos he implies with his seemingly simple words. Thanks for this today!
Katrina, ignorance is bliss and that’s where I want to be in this living nightmare. But your last lines, “And if words inspire action, God help us.” Yes, God help us!
But it’s the truth!!! I appreciate truth more than ever. Thank you, Katrina. And yes, God help us.
The Man
Man,
the man,
Sifting sand,
Through callous hands.
Counting death on bands.
Rotting daily with land.
His son will soon understand,
Life is a magnificent plan,
Unregarded- destined, bright and bland.
Hold my hand, little man, sift timeless sand.
I have read this a few times, and I made some guesses about the father and son, but whatever it is, I really like the final address to the little man to sift some timeless sand and see what the world truly is. There’s a meditative parent, finding their way through…
I’m reading and re-reading beginning with sifting sand to “magnificent plan” and ending with “sift timeless sand”. I love the continuity the words build in this readers mind. Additionally the words “destined bright and bland” reflect the reality of life. And this writer wonders if she is on to something. Enjoyed reading your words.
Hi,
I feel this in my soul. I’m loving the rhyme and flow and pace. Such a heartwarming final line:
I
guess it
makes a kind
of sense that our
worlds are crafted
by our brains instead of
some random outside forces
because everything we know is
filtered through this organ of insight:
we are who we are b/c of who we are!
“We don’t see the world as it is, we see it as we are.” – Anaïs Nin
______________________________________________
Stacey, thank you for this prompt and for your mentor poem! I love that the “ancestral songs” are at the root of the “joy and hope” that’s “shower[ed] / [on the] Earth and humanity.”
Scott, great reminder of each of our own unique neural pathways creating our worlds. Something about this brought to mind Inside Out, I. A good way!
I read your words before Nin’s words. This morning I wrote reflecting on intuition and I came up with the thinking that intuition is driven by the thinker. I like your word choice – insight as an organ. Would sight be less interpretive? Fun to think about the impact of two letters. Enjoyed reading your words.
Scott, I read your poem as an internal monologue reflecting on the speaker’s perception of the world “through this organ of insight.” Thank you for sharing your wisdom along with Nin’s.
Hi Scott,
Oh, let us one day use “this organ of insight” to create a better world for all! Thank you, Scott.
I loved this prompt Stacey! Thank you. One of the things I enjoy most about this group – besides reading beauty poetry is learning different poetry styles. I have absolutely no background in poetry outside of always loving it – even as a small girl.
I enjoyed playing with the ethree mirror. For my poem I selected La Bain’s poem “Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain” which reads:
“The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.”
And here is mine.
The Mountain Calls me
Home
Rest
On the
Mountain which
Remains watching
Once I sat there too
Clouds draining the grey sky
I sat still with the Mountain
In solitude with my own thoughts
The horizon became blurred and soft
And the Mountain drew me into her arms.
Mona Becker
Mona, as someone who has enjoyed resting on a mountain or two, I loved this meditation on a hard surface that can be welcoming.
Whoops- especially your final two lines! Mountain hugs!
Mona,
I continue to be reminded of the power of nature. I long to “sit still with the Mountain” because it is there where all the answers await.
Beautiful!
Thank for your prompt Stacey. A poem I found from my research that emanated hope is a poem by Atu-Kwei Okai, a renowned Ghanaian playwright. His poem Sunset Sonata had within it four rhyming, repeating lines (like a chorus) that were sometimes swapped. Two of the lines are ,,,let the greying day glow/…let the evening horns blow.
Love Changes Everything
help
within
reach today
outpouring of
love, security
that settles like dust and
develops into strings of
opportunity enveloped in
love, boundless love, that invites itself
surrounds us and changes the status quo.
Oh, Juliette, those last two lines are perfect. Yes, I love that “boundless love invites itself surrounds us and changes the status quo” So powerful. Love will win!
Juliette,
Like Denise, I find those last two lines inspiring. We could sure use some of that status quo changing love now.
Hi Juliette,
Thank you for this sweet reminder that love can change EVERYTHING!! I am filled with hope.
Wonderful, fun prompt. Thank you! I took my inspiration from the incomparable Maya Angelou. I have had a copy of her LIFE DOESN’T FRIGHTEN ME, illustrated by the also incomparable Jean-Michel Basquiat, forever, and read it our children just about nightly when they were small.
“I’ve got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.
Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all.
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.”
(Maya Angelou)
—
TALISMAN
Life
Doesn’t
Frighten me.
The talisman
Burns not beneath my
Sleeve, but illuminates
Veins; oxygenating me,
From inside out: Self-sufficient,
Immune from crushing, breathless depths, from
Despairing ocean floors swept clean of hope.
Mariah M.L. Bauer
2/16/2025
I love your title and idea of a talisman. Somehow more significant than a magic charm. Enough to carry you safely beneath the sea. So few words bring so many ideas to mind. Does a small charm or idea/feeling provide the power to carry us when presented with challenges? Guess it’s time to start believing. Loved the message of your poem.
Hi Mariah,
I haven’t read Life Doesn’t Frighten Me in a while. I will share it with my 5th graders soon. Thank you for reminding me of how fun it is for children. Thank you, Mariah, for your poem. I am feeling courageous…this life we are living doesn’t frighten me!
Thank you for this prompt, Stacey. The etheree form has been one of my favorites since discovering it in 2020.
Tough as Nails
Run.
Start, end —
it’s okay
if you need to
step off course before
you reach the finish line.
You gave your all, time to rest.
Be strong! Only you know the right
decision. Your team, coach, family —
we are all so proud of the fight you fought.
piece of text: from Choosing to Run by Des Linden, page 94-95 “Stepping off the course at the start—finish after the first 2.2-mile loop, near the recovery and medical tents, was the efficient, practical, wise thing to do.”
Des Linden writes this in her memoir about going into the marathon race at the 2012 Olympics in London. She went into the event with a misdiagnosis, discovering after the fact that she had a broken femur. Prior, Des also struggled with low energy and received a thyroid disorder diagnosis.
my inspiration: my daughter is a xc and distance track runner. She has dealt with low energy (low ferritin levels) and misdiagnosed pain in her left leg. Her team made it to State this fall and, after weeks of working with her coach and trainers, my daughter ran her 3 miles knowing no one would think less of her if she had to step off. She was disappointed with her finish time, but she did finish. Five days later, we learned she ran that race (and most likely the two before it) on a fractured femur. Sharing Des’ story with my daughter has been a great source of inspiration to my daughter as she works herself back to full recovery for the outdoor track season.
Jennifer, this is truly inspiring. We are stronger than we think. We endure, we suffer, and then we finish/succeed/complete. These lines resonated with me: “it’s okay
if you need to
step off course before
you reach the finish line.”
It’s ok to veer off but just get back on track in order to finish strong. Thank you for sharing.
What an encouraging poem, Jennifer! I love that you shared the texts and inspirations too. I have thyroid disease too, so the Choosing to Run information resonates with me. We all need inspiration and hope! Thank you, Jennifer.
Stacey, thank you so much for hosting us today, and for this prompt and mentor poem. Your last two lines in your poem are so powerful. I love all those we verbs learning from the ancestors: “we rise, we soar, we flow, we shower” bringing “Earth and humanity in joy and hope”
I enjoyed the constraints of writing an etheree. Mine is mostly from this quote from Dr. M.L.King’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech: “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.”
truth
unarmed–
believe it–
truth unarmed and
unconditioned love
will have the final word.
truth and love stronger than fear
Yes, in reality, hope will
have the final word. Right stalled today
is stronger than evil’s triumphant gain.
Denise, so much to love here, but I appreciate this reminder at the end. I will hold on and remember that right is stalled and will someday return.
Thank you for sharing your etheree! 🩷
Denise, I also wrote about love today. I’m thinking about the love-hope connection. I agree that, “unconditioned love, will have the final word.” Thanks for sharing this insightful poem.
Denise, I adore the truth you speak here. Hope is essential! Your poem flows gracefully but has a terrific punch! Beautiful!
Denise, it’s time to unarm our truths. It can fight for itself and it needs not be shielded. These lines are my hope: “truth unarmed and
unconditioned love
will have the final word.” The truth will set us free. Thank you for sharing.
Right stalled today. Not destroyed. I hope this is so…
Denise, as always you candidly speak your mind with “truth unarmed.” I do want to believe: “Right stalled today / is stronger than evil’s triumphant gain.” This gives me hope. Thank you!
Stacey, your poem radiates the joy you continually exude. I do love those final lines of your poem. One comment though after reading your introduction, you will never retire if you’re waiting to not have first day jitters. Just saying:)
Breathing
still
I rise
breathing life
into my veins
climbing blue hillsides
outside my red front door
to search for nature’s laugh lines,
joyful purple clouds to lift my
spirit beyond diamond skies sparkling
with your warm embrace—so I can exhale
Barb Edler
16 February 2025
Barb,
thank you for bringing us on this journey, returning us to Maya, and being present to breathe, notice the colors around us, and feel enduring love. I’m going to
carry with me your
the
(what a brilliant line!)
and the ease of your final line:
Thank you, Barb.
Oh, “diamond skies sparkling / with your warm embrace” and the colors in your poem are treats. So much more to love here in such a few lines, like “nature’s laugh lines” You are making me smile this morning.
Ohhh, Barb, how warm and loving! I love “nature’s laugh lines” and now feel more proud of my own facial laugh lines! You crafted a gem.
As for the first day jitters never going away……uh ohhhh. I really had hopes those would stop. 😂 My good friend decided to retire this coming June. She intentionally planned to be in Jamaica in August so that she wouldn’t be crying and sad the first day of school. Maybe that’s what I’ll have to do too.
Hugs, Barb!
Agreed! Wishing you as many wonderful years teaching as you desire!
Barb—the blue hillsides, the red front door, the purple clouds, the diamond skies. Wow.
Barb,
I love the idea of nature having laugh lines. All the nature imagery here feels cathartic, and the red door reminds me of other red in your state—and mine. I will not let them have that color! Your poem is a painting. Like emphasis but of the outside your door world. Lovely.
Barb, what an uplifting of M. Angelou’s words! I love the images along the way that take me “to search for nature’s laugh lines.” These words are so full love “diamond skies sparkling
with your warm embrace.” Beautiful poem!
Barb, I love your nod to Maya Angelou. And your red door and blue hillsides, not to mention diamond skies, made me feel good!
Oh, Stacey. What a balm you have given us with your inspiring bio, prompt and poem. Thank you so much. This was just what I needed this morning. Thank you especially for sharing your guiding philosophy:
and for leading us to
My poem was influenced by your call to action:
and the last line of Terrance Hayes’ “American Sonnet for the New Year”
and the lives my mother and grandmothers modeled and that my seventh grade girls lead.
Time
time
to take
the long view
remember lessons
of gratitude and love
from Mom, Mémère, Grandma
seek solace in nature—see
yellow warblers hopping about
be still and listen for enduring calls
nurture young women’s kindness and strength
Sharon, the time you are taking in your poem is special. It shows the power nature has on our souls and the importance of kindness and strength, rings through strikingly at its end.
Yes, Sharon! Here’s to powerful modeling kindness and strength to make the ugly things less ugly. Your seventh graders are blessed to have you!
Yes, Sharon!! Your words give me hope and peace!
Nature is my go-to! Everything we need is there, if only we take the time to look closely.
Thank you, Sharon, for taking care of our young women! 💖
Sharon, these “lessons of gratitude and love” are priceless. I also appreciate your suggestion to look for solace in nature. We have so much to learn from it. Thank you!
What a lovely poem Stacey! Dancing on water! A tsunami of lightening bolts! Quite honestly, your poem actually made me feel the hope of humanity and earth dancing together. As happened yesterday, a poem rooted in my mind since childhood beckoned me. Whenever I hear the word hope, Emily Dickinson’s voice begins a dialogue…so always, hope is the thing with feathers…
Fly
she sang
from her perch
within my soul,
spread your wings and fly
away from angry words
and hate-filled proclamations.
My downy feathers keep you safe.
My wordless song lifts your weary wings.
Be brave! Soar above this blustering storm!
Ann,
your poem calms me this morning. Thank you.
I especially feel and love this line:
Ann, I love the wing and feather imagery throughout your poem. Perfect word choices throughout this. Loved your last two lines the best as it shows just how difficult it can be to fly! Sensational poem!
Oh, Ann, I love the voice of Hope in your sweet poem. Such a needed proclamation these days.
Hi Ann,
Yes, yes, yes! I feel the same about your poem. I often think of “hope is the thing with feathers” too.
You give life to hope here. Thank you, Ann.
This poem sounds like an ode to future me! Navigating the current times and still working towards the future.
Ann—this is beautiful and full of comfort. Thank you.
Ann, yes to “fly / away from angry words /and hate-filled proclamations.” I, too, associate hope with flight and E. Dickinson. Thank you!
Joy— I just realized that you are the title of my poem. Somehow fitting. The mentor poem and yours express the times we are in. “Ride waves and caress clouds”—what beautiful imagery. At these times, I often resort to Mary Oliver. This jumped out at me today.
Don’t Hesitate
by Mary Oliver
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.
Joy is Not Meant to be a Crumb
Joy
Hold it
Sing with it
Give it a name.
Lift it high; laugh with it.
Hug it close; ask it to dance.
Paint a picture, write a poem.
Pay attention to that moment.
Preserve it for the hard times ahead.
Joys become memories. You will need them.
GJ Sands 2/16/25
Mary Oliver always seems to have something important and timely to offer! And your partner for her poem is beautiful. “You will need them” is dark and ominous, foreboding while speaking of joy—a wonderful contrast that keeps the sweet from being too sweet and the sour from taking over.
Gayle, thanks for sharing Mary Oliver’s poem and your response is stunning. I so enjoyed “Hug it close; ask it to dance”. The final words “You will need them.” speaks the truth! Powerful!
Omg, I will keep both Mary Oliver’s poem and yours close to my heart. Your poem reminds me of when my sister and I say, “All is well, right now,” because we know that it only takes a blink of an eye for things to change.
Gayle, I am holding these lines as directed:
Fun!
This poem comes from the incredible black living feminist poet Alexis Pauline Gumbs: https://poets.org/poem/orino-ka-n-manbo-emale
This is the excerpt I am drawing from Gumbs:
train your daughters
how to dance in mud
cleanse them
of the myth
of solid ground
__________________
train
teachers
crafting plans
without students
how to co-create
projects youth inspired
cleanse them of the standards myth
show them that the mark they make be
not numbers nor letters– cannot count
human creators not measured by grades
Oh, yes.
Oh, what a paradigm shift we need, and you’ve said it beautifully.
I love this Sarah! The last four lines should be presented to every teacher before entering the classroom. Teaching was once a laboratory of discovery…and discovery leaves room for classroom joy. Cleanse them from the standards myth…the mark they make… not just the students, but the teachers as well. I always believed I was teaching more than pronouns and commas (though I did love diagramming sentences 😉 Sorry to go on like this, but your poem really hit home for me.
Yes, please, Sarah!
So much power in
Thank you for introducing me to this poet and poem. Love “cleanse them” stanza you shared. Wow. Then your poem speaks everything important to my heart about education. Yes, cleanse the standards myth. Let’s let our students create and think and share and be learners. Powerful poem. I hope you share this one with your students.
Sarah, you nailed it in these lines:
You’re reminding me of what we talked about last week. Can’t we focus on the “human creators” and not the numbers and standards? Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I am an educator and this resonates so deeply! Thank you for this powerful poem.
I am lately obsessed with Robert Browning’s “Pied Piper of Hamelin.” I’m determined to memorize all 2057 words (300 lines), which will be double the longest poem I’m memorized to date. I’m also making it into a puppet show.
So here is my etheree!
Rats!
Piper,
Welcome, pipe
us from vermin
that plague our small town.
Pipe away our troubles.
Pipe us free from all that ails
us: rats infesting our cupboards.
Leave us only with our rat-nest souls
our greedy selfish hallow rat-nest souls.
Oh, please invite me to the puppet show! I have to see this rat-nest souls represented in story!
My initial intent to “make a marionette puppet” took on a life of its own when I realized my creature reminded me of “sharp blue eyes each like a pin…and lips where smiles went out and in…” Truly, this creative adventure–as it continues to expand–is feeding me through the winter.
#create
#play
#poetry
I’m with Sarah—I want to see this puppet show. But for now, thank you for opening my imagination with the photo of your beguiling puppet and your poem. I love the repution of the last two lines:
Leave us only with our rat-nest souls
Allison, you never fail to impress me with your creativity and genius. I love the puppet and your poem. The line “pipe away our troubles” is definitely something our nation is in need of right now. I see these “greedy selfish hallow rat-nest souls” televised every day! Let me know when you will be performing “Pied Piper of Hamelin”. I want to see it.
I’d happily drive to Atlantic to see you do it, too.
Jeeesh, how clever and creative, Allison. You never cease to amaze me, awe me. You have crafted a poem for the times we are in! Rats, vermin, greed!
Can’t wait to see your puppet show. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽
Obviously, you have an audience! If only we had a piper to free us! This is such a perfect metaphor for our world today.
Wait, what?! I love this, Allison! Not just your poem — “greedy selfish hallow rat-nest souls” is such a great line — but that you are going to memorize Browning’s poem and turn it into a puppet show!! I’m here for all of this! (The longest poem that I “have” is the opening of Richard III — “Now is the winter of our discontent” — which gives me great joy to recite while buying groceries in the supermarket or at passing cars if they are driving erratically on the express way. I can only imagine that “With shrieking and squeaking / In fifty different sharps and flats” will come in handy when you’re in line at the DMV or getting your taxes done, lol!)
What a project, Allison. Your poem gave me a chill because I could see all those rats running around with greedy souls in my cupboard. Yikes!
Good luck with your memorization and your puppet show. It’s going to be terrific!
What absolute fun!
Thank you, Stacey, for this marvelous prompt. My inspiration for this etheree is Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem, “the children of the poor” –
hope
first,
the fight
then, fiddle
it’s not too late
no devil to pay
be not afraid to reach
know what is right, is needed
feel this, breathe this, and demand this
send block towers falling and simply
love infallible children of the poor
Oh, Maureen, you craft a lovely poem with this etheree style. It works so well with no sentence case capital letters and in stanzas stretched. The line where I most lingered was this : “feel this, breathe this, and demand this.” Whew.
Sarah
Maureen, I love how you structured your poem. Your final line says everything. Hope is the perfect title for this poem! Powerful and important message!
Maureen, I am warmed by your poem’s delivery of hope and light for the “children of the poor.” I absolutely want to see this line come to pass:
Longing for our children to have a world in which they can thrive!
I love the image of the block towers falling. And those infallible children, always with us…
Stacey, I love your prompt and this line in your poem “ancestral songs beckoning us”. I listened twice to the poem and gathered words. I’m always struck by how little control I have on the direction a poem will take. I am visiting my mother this weekend. She has Alzheimer’s and is in hospice/ memory care. I was talking to my siblings about how this time feels like liminal space, that time between her life with us and her heavenly life. That idea emerged in my Etheree.
Star
single
reigns in dark
sky, a lone eye
to breathless heaven.
Reach for her feeble hand.
Choke back your selfish tears.
Open your all knowing third eye.
Remember despair is not the plan.
Marvel in joy; she taught you how to fly.
Margaret, my own mother’s last years were spent in the fog of dementia; I know this liminal space. May you continue to find great beauty in spending time with her. In your poem, I really love the image of a star as ‘a lone eye.’ Beautiful.
Margaret, sending comfort your way as you exist in this liminal space. Your poem’s first line of “star” embraces the vastness and unknown of heaven. I am struck by the word “selfish” and then “marvel in joy” thinking that is just the sort of self that I’d like when my time comes, for someone to remember the lessons. And “how to fly,” well, that is a spectacular lesson to hold onto and be grateful for.
Sarah
On Margaret,
sending love and so much gratitude for your wise and beautiful poem. My Mom did not suffer from dementia, but she did live with ovarian cancer and its difficult treatments of surgery, chemotherapy, antitumor medicatioms and radiation her last six years. I was with her in that long liminal space when she passed — also in hospice—in October and your poem captures—and clarifies—
my experience so beautifully—especially these lines:
Thank you, Margaret. Sending much love to you and your siblings.
Margaret, I am so sorry to hear about your mother. Your poem is poignant and pulls even harder on the heartstrings knowing the background to your writing today. Your last line is gorgeous. Hugs!
Margaret, my heart aches for you and your siblings. I pray that your mom feels your love and comfort while you are there. And yes, these two lines are lessons for all of us during times that hurt so deeply:
Hugs and love sent your way. Thank you for sharing.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
Oh, Margaret! I just want to hug you sending love and peace to you. Your poem is filled with pain and love. It is unbearable to watch suffering of the person who “taught you how to fly.” Hold onto this memory. 🤗
Stacey, a terrible storm ripped through last night, leaving us without power and plenty of yard debris, so to wake up to this prompt is like the sunshine after the dark night. Like a brighter future after enduring whatever we call is happening now. You, my Joyful friend, bring hope indeed! An etheree mirror form feels like short breaths of every news headline now, with the hope there will be longer breaths in future lines. Your poem speaks to the unity of future when we again meet ancestors and the souls reunite. Thank you for hosting us!
I used two of my favorite black poets’ works today, and one favorite of Mexican-American descent, to blend an etheree in celebration of all strong women of this nation: Lucille Clifton (won’t you celebrate with me) and Maya Angelou (The Human Family), two strong women whose poetry modeled what our reigning US Poet Laureate Ada Limon meant when she wrote How To Triumph Like A Girl. And here we are, standing on this bridge together.
Lifting Our Shirts
take
my hand
celebrate
togetherness
strength in unity
we are more alike, my
friend, than we are unalike
the human family survives
on this bridge of beating heart triumph
just lift our shirts and see to believe it
Kim, Your poem beckons me back to the Women’s Movement. We need another one, a powerful one. Who will lead us there? It seems the only ones standing up to the tyranny are women. Yes! Lift our shirts!
“we are more alike, my
friend, ” – love this so much
Kim, I’m so sorry you had to suffer through a storm. Nature is being so wrathful lately and I saw on the news that tornados, and such were expected in the South. Secondly, I absolutely love “How to Triumph like a Girl” and you’ve captured the essence of womanhood with your ending imagery. Absolutely love everything about your poem and need that bridge to survive, too! Fantastic poem!
Kim,
Yes to “this bridge of beating heart triumph”. I love the unity and hope in your poem. Here’s to strong women standing in the gap, shirts lifted.
Yes, Kim, yes!! A clarion call to all women! We got this!! Let’s do it! 🙌🏽 🙌🏽 🙌🏽 🙌🏽
And, I am sorry about the storm last night. I hope all is calm and you are safe today.
Kim, if only all of us understood that “we are more alike,” we would be in a much better place. Your call to celebrate togetherness is imperative today more than ever. I like how skillfully you mirrored the poems of the strong women-poets in your poem. Thank you!
Stacey, this is an incredibly beautiful, hopeful, beckoning poem – a true celebration of overcoming, of rising above, of interconnectedness through the ages. That is what our lives, our stories, and our poems do – they connect us like nothing else, and therein lies the value in sharing. I am grateful for this poem and for you. I might also say I love the etheree form. I played with it a bit here, doubling it to retell an encounter I had in recent weeks, so tied to your own words: “We rise, we soar…” Thank you for this and for always uplifting <3
Bird’s Head
My
prayer
is for strength
as I drive round
the bend in the road
where a lone hickory
stands stripped in a barren field.
Perched there in those gnarled old branches
is a huge buzzard. It turns its head
just as I pass…a white head, shining like
fresh snow in sunlight, brilliant to blinding
…a bald eagle, enduring winter,
keeping watch high above the earth.
Jolted by this fierce response
I drive onward, sobbing
for the provision,
newfound courage
singing wild
in my
veins.
****
Note: This sighting happened on the way to work one morning when I felt especially discouraged. I went on with my day – victoriously – and while driving home, I saw the eagle was still in that old tree. I have learned that eagles do this to conserve energy in winter… hmm, more symbolism….at any rate, I have seen eagles several time recently but none have moved me so much as the one sighted just after my heart’s cry for strength, nor are there enough words to fully convey my awe.
The eagle as image — the stillness of it — works wonderfully well here, and then the building up and slowing down in the form of the poem, too, was nicely done, Fran.
Kevin
I am moved by “sobbing for the provision” as if God gave you just what you needed in that very moment. So often our cries are not answered in such a visual way. I think you have to live with an open spirit to accept the gift.
The etheree doubled appears like wings of a bird – just gorgeous, Fran. Yes, I am awed alongside you and feel “the provision, newfound courage” of your sighting.
Fran, such a providential happening. I love how prayers can often be answered through nature. Thank you for that slice of joy and hope
Wow Fran, this is a powerful poem ~ such stark and beautiful imagery leading to the newfound courage singing wild in my veins. Wow.
Fran, so much to take in and enjoy here. The eagle would terrify me (afraid of birds) but I do believe I would appreciate the hidden message of patience in times of trouble. We all need to conserve our energy and PROTECT our energy from the storms of hatred around us.
I love how you reversed the etheree to complete the picture. It gives a visual reminder of inhaling and exhaling, the impermanence of everything.
Thank you, Fran.
Newfound courage is fabulous!
Fran, thank you for sharing this mirror image etheree with the ethereal image of “a white head, shining like / fresh snow in sunlight, brilliant to blinding.” What an inspiration.
Stacey. I needed to read your hopeful words today to remind of the joy that surrounds me when I pause and look. Thank you
Its a rather wintry day here in the northeast so my poetry mind turns to Robert Frost and his Dust of Snow. (https://poets.org/poem/dust-snow)
My etheree attempts to capture the joy of grandsons sledding on a recent day.
Snow
and ice
packed down slick
lil’ feet scramble
to the highest point
hoping to get some air
when hitting that man-made jump
woosh, yeehaw, yah man, awesome, YES!
squeals of delight,mission accomplished!
they scale to new heights to conquer once again
Christine, the boys’ exuberance is palpable in your poem! Then there is the gift of grandchildren and snow… life may not always be one wild joy ride, but when these “new heights” come, they are to be savored. I sense this in every word, and know it well.
Perfect in capturing the joy of the moment of snow (although as I look out my window at the night’s snow and ice and slush … less joy in the moment)
Kevin
Christine, this is such a sensual poem. I am hearing the squeals of children and feeling their sense of “conquer”ing.
“woosh, yeehaw, yah man, awesome, YES!” – oh this makes me smile so!
Awww, what a treat!! I can see it all as if I am there. Love the sounds incorporated into the experience. I hope you and your grandsons enjoyed this tender moment!
Stacey, thank you for the beautiful, thoughtful, joyful prompt. These are hard times. I was listening to a podcast yesterday, (‘Justice by Design’ with Kimberly Atkins Stohr. I highly recommend it) and the guest spoke about the “long game.” Truthfully, I don’t want to hear that. I want faster change. But, all of this is to say (type) that I’ve been thinking about my ancestors a lot more lately–thinking about their long game and how to honor the foundations they laid for me…us. Your poem fits my thinking perfectly. Not only do I want to lay a strong foundation, I want it to be honorable and loving and hopeful.
Been thinking about my Dad lately. He’s got cancer and he’s trying to act as if it’s nothing.
You
taught me
love is service
that love never fails
except that sometimes
love doesn’t know to
recognize itself offered.
A bouquet of dandelions
grows up into flying to see you.
These seeds grow roots too. Accept them as love
That last line is so incredibly powerful, Linda
Kevin
Gorgeous imagery, Linda – such a poignant poem, clearly focused from the opening word “You” to the plea for acceptance of help. My favorite part: “Sometimes love doesn’t know how to recognize itself offered.” Profoundly true – this is a line now etched on my heart for always.
Linda, you nailed this prompt! The way you speak directly to the you and lead us to the image of dandelions flying, laying roots…as love. Ah, yes! If your dad is someone who appreciates gifts of poetry, this is one to send to him.
Linda, the visual of the bouquet of dandelions is sticking with me, first yellow then blossoming to flying seeds, light and airy. Thank you for this moment.
Thanks, Stacey, for the prompt and mentor texts this morning. Lots of finger counting.
🙂
Kevin
Inks
of rain;
Life, described,
then realigned –
fits between lines in
unanimous silence;
Choose a word, then a moment,
to edit, design, distribute,
as nothing burns outside our bodies:
poetry as broken intimacy
I used the prose poem Vintage Vanity by Terrance Hayes as foundational text
https://poets.org/poem/vintage-vanity
Good morning, early morning writing buddy! “Inks of rain” is wonderful–such beautiful door to walk into this poem through.Then it’s those lines and long, “I” sounds that keep me walking. Wonderful!
Thanks. Early morning writing club members ….
🙂
Kevin
Gorgeous, lyrical repetitions and rhythms, Kevin, not to mention the message honoring poetry and poets – what you did here with the inspiration from Hayes is breathtaking. Nothing burns outside our bodies, poetry as broken intimacy – stunning. And TRUE.
Thanks, Fran. It was all there, to be uncovered (and mended?)
Kevin
From “inks of rain” to “broken intimacy” this poem has me contemplating each word.
Hi Kevin,
Thank you for gifting us with this lyrical love letter to poetry! Your finger counting paid off! It’s gorgeous and flows effortlessly onto the page and into our spirits.