How to Be with Sheri Vasinda
Welcome to Day 19 of Verselove. We are so happy you are here, however you choose to be present. If you know what to do, carry on; if you are not sure, begin by reading the inspiration and mentor poem, then scroll to the comment section to post your poem. Please respond to at least three other poets in celebration of words, phrases, ideas, and craft that speak to you. Click here for more information on the Verselove. Share a highlight from your experiences thus far here.
Sheri hails from Texas where she taught K-4 students and especially enjoyed following student questions that led to finding out about the insides of water towers and how they work, the possible make up of black holes, the viciousness of hippopotami, and the life of our school’s namesake (Chester Story). She was a reading/literacy specialist focused on finding literacy talents. She currently lives in Stillwater, OK and teaches literacy education courses at Oklahoma State University. She is curious about people, places, and possibilities. She and husband Mark love visiting their grown children and grandchildren and other interesting places.
Inspiration
One year my teaching assignment was changed from self-contained third and fourth grade to fourth grade math and science. I looked for ways to include poetry in both. One of these was through Barry Lane’s “How to be…” poems from his book Reviser’s Toolbox. My fourth graders loved them and so did I.
Process*
- Gather facts on your topic. This is easy after engaging in information writing. The facts are there and writing poetry on the topic of inquiry is a form of text transformation.
- Make a list of 6-10 “good” facts.
- Writing the poem using VERBS: Do this…. Don’t…
- Read poems aloud to listen for differences in style and perspective.
*Thanks to Barry Lane.
Sheri’s Poems
How to Be a Breeze
Flutter gently, just enough to be a puff or stream of air
Don’t blast or whirl.
Rustle the leaves on trees.
Don’t bend or break limbs.
Whisper and hum.
Don’t shriek or howl.
Waft scents of gardenias and honeysuckle.
Don’t blast with stinging sand and debris.
Kiss our faces on warm days.
How to Be an Asteroid
Be smaller than a planet, about the size of a house.
Be made of varied combinations of rocks and metals
Hold yourself together with silicate and clay
Be sure to keep your dusty regolith coat.
Be mysterious: Is ice or water at your core?
Say goodbye to your small meteoroid pieces lost after a collision.
Don’t have a tail like a comet.
Harken to your name: Vesta, Pallas, Hygia, Sylvia.
Don’t be satisfied with being a number, one of 14,788.
Hang out with your family between Mars and Jupiter.
Take your place proudly in your belt-like orbit.
Say goodbye to your sister Ceres, who is now in a new family of dwarf plants.
Welcome back your brother Alfred after being missing for 89 years.
Live up to your Greek roots, “star like”.
But don’t have an identity crisis with gaseous stars.
Be yourself.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may 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.
Also, in the spirit of reciprocity, please respond to at least three other poets today.
How to be a teacher
Must have patience
Don’t be angry
Do everything out of love
Allow mistakes to happen
Don’t give up when it gets tough
Create a welcoming environment
Don’t try to rush the learning process
Do not be afraid to ask for help
Become a leader
Become a role model
Macy,
So many gems here. I especially love how you include “welcoming environment” and the word “become” to signal the process.
Peace,
Sarah
How To Be a Window
Do be many sizes
Don’t open when it rains
Allow the sun shine through
Be the one to let family members wave through
Don’t break, for you may be harmful
Do be colorful
Find yourself stacked with other colors
Decorating a church
Be the canvas for children’s stickers
Accept the dog slobber streaking on your body
Share with us what is on the other side.
Thank you.
How to be a flower
Be more valuable than gold
Relate to others
Creation new things
Expand your horizons
Sprout about
Flow with the wind
Heal
Be kind to all
Change your colors
Thank you for sharing Sheri, your poem made me reflect on who I am.
How to be an Eagle
Take leadership roles
Don’t be dependent and weak
Strive for excellence and remain competitive
Set goals with high expectations
The sky is the limit
Don’t be indecisive
Make sound decisions that will heel success
Fly high and soar in the sky
Domineering, strong sense of vision
Perseverance to continue even in difficult times.
Dee, i love the eagle metaphor you used to describe yourself as well as real eagles, it seems.
Wow, Dee! Appreciate the links high expectations and sky and soaring and sky which can give a strong sense of vision from a sky-high view. Lots to consider in “sky”.
Dee, this poem is extremely inspiring. “The sky is the limit” one of my favorite lines. You hit so many great aspects of an eagle and their characteristics.
Dee, I love all the metaphors you used in this poem!
Thank you for the prompt, Sheri. “How to Be a Breeze” is beautiful. I tried to emulate the feeling I got in my Soap Bubble poem. And since I couldn’t decide between the two ideas I had – I wrote about and posted both!
How to Be A Soap Bubble
Be airy and light.
An iridescent globe.
Float on to new heights.
Filled with dreams and hopes.
Land on someone’s arm or cheek or hair.
Leave a kiss on their skin before you disappear.
How to Be A Cat
Be an adorable furball.
Plot murder in your spare time.
Be picky about what you eat
And meow loudly when not fed on time.
Purr purr purr in your human’s lap.
Ask to be scratched all the time.
Ignore them entirely when they’re free.
Lie on their keyboard when they’re busy.
(How dare they pay attention to anything other than you?)
Rub against their legs when they’re talking on the phone.
Cuddle them when they feel lost and alone.
Walk confidently around their apartment.
(where you live rent-free)
Bask in the glory of your existence
(once a god, always divine)
As you lay in a sunny spot lazily.
Saba,
I love both poems. I imagine myself like Glynda the fairy godmother in The Wizard of Oz floating in a big bubble. And I want the cat in your poem. Both my cats prefer my husband, and I’m the reason we have cats. The kitten is downright feral at times.
Saba, you did capture the feeling of the breeze poem in your sweet soap bobble poem. Iridescent, new heights, leave a kiss, soooo sweet!
And the cat poem… Wow. I hope all the cat lovers come back to read it. Plot murder in your spare time. Haha!
Saba, I love both of these so much. The lines of your Soap Bubble poem grow like a growing bubble and it rhymes! It’s whimsical like the subject. And you’ve described my cat to a T.
I laughed again and again while reading “How to Be A Cat” from plotting murder to keyboard lounging to divinity.
I LOVE “Leave a kiss on their skin before you disappear.” I envisioned that little “pop” sparkle that happens we a soap bubble makes contact!
I too, almost wrote about how to be a cat. Some days I wish I could retreat from the chaos of life and be a cat for a few hours.
“Leave a kiss on their skin before you disappear.” A beautiful line, it gives a soap bubble such a calm, sweet essence. I love your use of such light words.
How to Be a Leader
Find your passion
Share the same vision
Guide others
Say “we,” not “you”
Appreciate everyone’s skills
Develop empathy
Don’t regret failure
Learn from it and
Embrace the process
of becoming a leader
Hi Carolina, Your poem illuminates qualities that effective leaders should demonstrate. I especially like the lines about learning from failure. Thanks for sharing.
Amazing how so few words communicate so much: sharing vision, “we” not “you”, appreciate, empathy, “don’t regret failure” – powerful in its conciseness.
I love this! Your line “Say ‘we,’ not ‘you'” speaks to a characteristic of all great leaders.
Carolina, I enjoyed how you mentioned to say “we” in place of “you”. This creates such an inclusive, welcoming environment.
Hi Carolina,
I believe you really captured what a leader looks like in this poem! Well done!
Sheri, this prompt is so open-ended and full of promise, thank you!
How to Be Truthful
know your own values
sit with them
try them on for size
validate them
don’t let others’
values replace your own
in every situation
respond with truth
(kindly offered)
even when
your view is unpopular
as time goes on
others will come
respectfully entreating
your counsel
trusting you will
speak honestly,
sincerely,
truthfully
(always kindly)
Hi Charlene, I like your poem theme…truthfulness, so many people find it hard to be honest and are influence by what others think and feel. Its hard at times but necessary to remain true.
Appreciate the link between honesty, trust, and kindness. Thank you!
Your poem represents a task that can be so hard to do. I especially like your reminder to speak truthfulness kindly.
Hi Charlene,
I liked that you chose to write about how to be truthful. Sometimes people overlook how important that is!
How to be a night sky
Unfurl at an imperceptibly slow
yet all too fast rate
as the sunbeams dissolve
in the west.
Configure ancient stories
with patterns of
even more ancient light.
Smear an effervescent crescent
on the lapis day sky
as a reminder
of your ever-presence.
Remind the gazers and lookers
of their size
while intoxicating them
with wonder and peace.
Beautiful, Laura. I especially loved “configure ancient stories,” it seems we all get into that mode as we gaze at a night sky.
“Smear an effervescent crescent on the lapis day sky” —I love how you have captured the beauty, magic and mystery of the night sky. Love!
Such gorgeous imagery! You’ve painted an amazing picture! My favorite part:
The imagery made me catch my breath! I could see and feel this poem! Thank you!
Oh, the topics are endless for this “How to Be” type of poem! I’m loving reading these poems. This one is for you, Glenda.
How to Be A Yucca Brevifolia
Embrace those short leaves.
Don’t try to grow anywhere but the Mojave Desert.
Grow just 2 or 3 inches a year.
Tangle your arms and legs into a giant Twister maze.
Enjoy a long 500-year life.
Feed and shelter your animal neighbors.
Show off your springtime flowers and summertime fruits.
Don’t hang your head when others say you are from a Dr. Seuss book.
Stand up as tall as your potential three stories,
And tallest among all yuccas.
Don’t be prickly, but wield your desert dagger with zeal.
Keep breathing.
Treasure your protected status.
Get healthy.
Pray for the humans to stop ruining the world.
Denise, love your specific details to show your topic and your opening line drew me right into this topic, I definitely know little about. I especially enjoyed the personification you used. “Keep breathing./Treasure your protected status”. The end is so powerful and timely. “Pray for the humans to stop ruining the world.” Excellent poem!
Aw, Denise, thank you so much, dear friend. You know how much I love those funny-looking, bendy trees. Maybe it’s time to rewrite that Seuss story, perhaps w/ Melissa Sweet illustrations. I love every line of your poem, but I think my favorite is this o e:
“Tangle your arms and legs into a giant Twister maze.”
I so hope I can visit the Mohave desert next spring when it’s in full bloom. Hugs ? & ?
I’m amazed at what I learned about Yucca Brevifolias! Thank you! One of the things I love about these poems is the way information can be creatively woven.
This was a fun prompt to explore. I was going to do a thunderstorm then switched to reader. But I ended up focusing on my child.
How to be a Teenager
Do walk around with headphones on,
Don’t respond to anything.
Do hide in your room all day,
Don’t hang with mom and dad.
Do answer questions with “Ehh”
Don’t provide any details.
Do leave your clothes all over the floor,
Don’t complete your chores.
Your Mom and dad will be
frustrated
irritated
disappointed
But…
Do be your awesome self!
Don’t forget, they will love you always!
©Jennifer Kowaczek April 2022
This went through some changes as I typed up what I wrote. It’s still not quite right, but I’ll keep working on it.
Jennifer,
Have you been watching my son?!? You nailed it. This is so true, the headphones, the “Ehh” and the clothes everywhere. But yes, indeed, I love him oodles.
Jennifer, what a fun topic. I love the addition of the “Your Mom and dad…” and the “But…Do be your awesome self…” stanzas. Perfection.
Oh, Jennifer, I love how you’ve captured the behavior of a teenage, but the end is so extra special and sweet. Yes, they drive us crazy, but they’re still our beloved babies. Wonderful poem!
Hi Jennifer, your poem resonates with me because I have a teenage daughter and she does all those things you mentioned in your poem….As parents we pray and hope that they will grow out of that phase sooner rather than later.
Thank you for sharing your almost “quite right” version! I really appreciated your preface of other possibilities and then seeing where you ended up! Isn’t that the fun, joy, and surprise of writing?? (BTW – I made a connection to Saba T’s “How to Be A Cat” for some fun and funny reason!
Hi Sheri. I LOVE “how to be” poems–and had forgotten all about them. With your prompt floating in the back of my head today, it was my students and their poetry dice (kid-made) that inspired my how to be poem.
How to Be a First Grade Poet
Immerse yourself
in words
from books
and poems
and songs
Open your eyes wide
look carefully
using ALL your senses
Feel the roly polys
under your
fingers
Smell the cilantro
from the garden
Hear the hawk
calling as it
swoops above the
classroom
Taste the sweet red
strawberries
taking root just
beyond the field
Dance with the words
as they
tumble and roll
calling you to
pay attention
Write your world
your thoughts
your feelings
and read them
back with
love and pride
(If you’re interested in some first grade poetry, you can see a glimpse on my blog )
Kim, your poem was utterly delicious! And then I found this on your blog:
A wolf found a hollow tree.
the wolves sleep at daytime with
very big waves.
A small clown sells big old lemons.
My heart! The final line slew me! I think 1st-graders must be made of 40% poetry. By the time I meet them in 9th grade, they’re down to about 10%. My goal is to build them back up. You make me think I should show my students some of your students’ poems…
Thank you!
Kim, you had me feeling those roly polies! I love the dancing with words image, too!
What a fun peek into first grade! I’ve been in middle school for 25 years, I sometimes miss the early grades.
Oh, Kim, all those senses examples are so wonderful, and then the explosive “Dance with the words” makes me want to get up and move. And “write your world” So much wow here! The first graders dice poetry is magical. Thank you for sharing it.
Kim, your poem expresses the curiosity and innocence of young children so well! It is so wonderful your students have you to nurture their delight in writing!
My heart swelled as I read this! All first graders should be immersed in words, exploring roly-polys, smelling cilantro, and tasting strawberries! Thanks for sharing your blog! Loved all the posted poems and the way they brought their two words from the dice roll together!
Hi Sheri, thank you for hosting today and for this refreshing prompt! It’s definitely one I can use with my 5th graders. I loved the serenity How To Be a Breeze:
I played around with a few topics and decided on the one below. After having to console a sisterfriend this morning on the playground before the day even started, I felt the need to go with what I experienced with her.
How to be Strong
Weep and bawl
When your heart aches
Scream and curse in a pillow
When life throws gut punches
Write a vitriolic email
And don’t send it
Speak your truth
Don’t swallow it as fear
Be available to listen
When you prefer to shut someone out
Lift weights and hydrate
Eat cookies and cake without regret
Go to counseling
And don’t over analyze your therapist
Open your mind to receive new perspectives
And know that you might be the crazy one
Stop faking like you’re okay
“No” is a complete sentence
Don’t buy on impulse
Say yes only when you mean it
Don’t tell anyone to be strong
It’s a choice we all must make on our own.
© Stacey L. Joy, 4/19/22
Oh, WOW! I started highlighting lines that touched memememe, then realized I was highlighting every line. You are my kindred. (Except “Don’t buy on impulse”!) Each line poured “yes” into my heart. When I arrived at the final stanza, I wanted to both applaud and STAND beside YOU to be applauded!
Where were you when I needed you this morning?!? I’m so glad you were there for your friend. Your poem is full of terrific advice, Stacey!
Stacey this is a beautiful look at what strong looks like.
I especially like
What a powerful reminder!
Stacey,
Well, wow! There are SO many fabulous lines in this! “Speak your truth / Don’t swallow it as fear” and “Stop faking like you’re okay / “No” is a complete sentence” are two of my favorites. This needs to be distributed to young women everywhere before they succumb to society’s pressures. Awesome poem!
Stacey, oh my gosh, I can surely relate to “you might be the crazy one” and “Stop faking like you’re okay”. Being strong is a choice and not always an easy one. Bravo for your honest voice and strength!
Stacey, brava, my dear. So glad you could be with your sisterfriend this morning and help both of you. Will you share the poem with her?
Hi Denise, thank you! I am exhausted from a long work day but when I post it on my blog, she will see it. That’ll be tomorrow if time
permits. She’s taking two days off so if not tomorrow then for sure Thursday.
Stacey, I love this! There are so many wonderful truths in this: “Write a vitriolic email / And don’t send it” and “Open your mind to receive new perspectives / And know that you might be the crazy one” are two of my favorites. Thanks for this!
Stacey- many thanks. I’m responding late to these poems because my heart was broken on the 19th when my beloved father-in-law passed away. Your poem spoke to me on so many levels, but “Stop faking like you’re okay” got me.
Make me work for it,
Keep my arms and fingers pumping.
Demand the concentration
that shades out every care.
Fill me with circus tunes,
polkas and Oh, Danny Boy.
Tie me to childhood.
Embarrass me (just a little).
Don’t go unnoticed!
Don’t be shy!
Grow bigger and louder
and redder and better!
Oh, be my sweet accordion.
You had me wondering here, Allison. I forgot you were an accordion player. This is very joyful!
What a fun reveal at the end!
My mom played the accordion at weddings and her accordion band even marched in parades.
I love that you didn’t tell us what it was at the start! I love the fun and playfulness of your poem.
❤️
Allison, I thought your topic was the accordion since I knew you played this instrument. I would love to hear you play. It is one of my favorite instruments and used to hear a great uncle play at family get togethers. Loved the lines “Don’t go unnoticed!/Don’t be shy!” Very fun poem!
Allison, I love that last line, and that you saved it for your reader. Like Mo, I kept trying to figure it out. Had a small recollection with “Oh, Danny Boy” but then remembered when I read the last line. Super! “Embarrass me (just a little)” is fun!
I, too, appreciated the cleverness of keeping us in suspense until the last line!
How to Be a Bird Watcher
By Mo Daley 4-19-22
Be patient like the Great Blue Heron
waiting at the edge of a pond
Be quiet like the Cooper’s Hawk
spying his lunch at the feeder
Be aware, like the mother short-eared owl
preparing to fledge her owlets
Be curious like the crow
perched high in the branches observing everything
Be unobtrusive like the Brown Creeper
climbing a tree trunk unobserved
Be in the moment, like a chickadee
feeding from an open palm
Oh Mo…I love this! I love that the birds teach you how to be a bird watcher and I love that you capture their characteristics in each “be” line.
Oh, my! That last line just plucked my heart right out ofdddd my ribs! I tell my students that the ending of a short story should feel both surprising and (still, in some way) expected. That is precisely what the “open palm” did to me in your poem. Bravo.
Mo, thank you for this! I really loved these lessons from our avian friends: “Be patient,” “Be quiet,” Be aware,” “Be curious,” “Be unobtrusive,” and “Be in the moment.” We can really learn a great deal from nature. Thank you for this reminder!
Like Kim and Scott, I appreciate a characteristic from each bird that can teach us something in such a wise and playful way!
How to be a Crazy Cockatiel
Pace your cage back and forth
Fly into all the walls
Even though you’re very small
Squawk towards the north
And get ready to brawl.
When human comes home
And tries to play ball
Get ready to roam
And make a bird call.
This is a fun one, Emma. I used to have two cockatiels, so I know exactly what you’re talking about. The rhyme scheme really adds to the tone.
Your rhyme scheme added a fun element! I could hear this poem from “squawk” and “bird call”- the rhyme added to the acoustics!
Sheri, what a cool prompt! I could see this going in so many directions! Your poems about wind and asteroids were especially good examples, “Be smaller than a planet, about the size of a house.” really helped me visualize the size. Thank you for this prompt!
How To Be A Page In A Writer’s Journal:
decide your rules:
college, wide, blank, or grid?
smell like your past life:
perhaps a tree in a forest then
cut, debarked, pulped
stretched, and cut again
say yes to itches
and scratches
on your back
accept the concepts
sketched upon you
(and the crossed out
words too)
don’t be judgmental
stare back, blankly, at the two eyes
begging for inspiration
it’s not like you are allowed to say anything
travel often–sneak
into purses, luggage, and passenger seats
don’t be judgmental
above all:
console, inspire, antagonize, and
listen
Rachelle,
This is awesome! Such voice! I especially love
Try as I might, I can’t consistently keep a journal, but I do periodically try. You really personified a journal perfectly.
I have to continue to give Barry Lane the credit. It is his prompt. Enjoyed the sneaky cleverness of this poem: rules (“college, wide, blank or grid”, “smell like your past life”, “travel often- sneak….” and LOVED the idea of our journals as listening.
I’m feeling a little feisty today. 😉
How to Be a Problem
Insist on speaking your mind
Ask questions when you’re confused
Read, read, read, read, read
Listen to different opinions
Encourage others to speak their minds
Pose questions that don’t have easy answers
Observe behavior rather than just listening
Insist that all the voices be heard
Don’t take things at face value
Trust your own heart, not the media
Defy expectations of who you should be
Encourage individuality for all
Do things in unconventional ways
Inspire the next generation of thinkers
Never settle for being less than whole
Think for yourself
Cara, I like the tone. Usually “problem” has a negative connotation, but I love how you have painted it in a more positive light. It’s quite a compliment to be a “problem” if one accepts this line: “Read, read, read, read, read” 🙂
Cara, your poem was what I needed today! I love it!
I also appreciated the positive tone of “problem” as a provocation to deeper thinking.
Sheri, how fun! I love this form, and wow! how perfect to pair it with science and math and any subject. (I’m picturing fun with geography!)
I love the interesting facts and details, as well as the not-facts you’ve included in your poems. Like regolith and don’t have a tail like a comet. I could smell these when I read this line:
I can’t wait to read some of these poems. I’ve drafted mine on the back of a gasoline receipt, and I’ll write it up when I get to our motel. Traveling poetry.
Love the portability of poetry (and also writing on the back of any odd scrap of paper)! Glad you had fun!
How to be a good blanket
Cover from shoulder to foot when wrapped around
Don’t create a train collecting dust
Contain the heat inside of you
Do not overheat
Be a makeshift ballgown or cape
Don’t destroy the pillow fort
Be big enough for two…or four
Don’t hold on to the stains
Tuck me in
Don’t leave me in the night
Choose me when it’s time to roll
Never let the feet be shown
Rob, this is so great! I am in desperate need of a good blanket as you’ve defined here. I especially love “Choose me when it’s time to roll.”
Rob, this is perfection. I’m especially drawn to your first line because my blankets are often too short and I have to choose: feet or shoulder? Thanks for writing such a cozy poem!
“don’t hold on to the stains” and “don’t leave me in the night” are two of my favorite lines. There’s nothing better than a perfect blanket!
Oh, yes, “Never let the feet be shown” is an important characteristic of a blanket. I also like “choose me” and “tuck me in” Loved this personified blankie.
So appreciate the possibilities a blanket holds: ballgown, capes, forts!! So many good memories in addition to warmth!
Wow! I can see so many cool possibilities for this poem form! I had a life-coach friend who told me that instead of aiming to be my perfect self, I should aim to be my favorite self. That was an idea that has really stuck with me…my “favorite self” is far from perfect.
How to Be My Favorite Self
Sit and listen…really listen
to the 17th fun fact about flags
from the nine-year-old or
the latest cool medieval collectible
from the hubby.
Take a breath and just be
there
in that space.
Laugh…really laugh
at the near-constant silliness
seniors share at this point in the year
“Want me to get you a croissant (she meant corsage) for prom?”
“Ooh…flowers AND pastry? I’m in!”
Refuse to let the little pettinesses
intrude on your joy
push them out–as far away as
possible.
Soften your face, your voice,
your breath;
be easy, hold on loosely,
step lightly.
Remember that nothing is
nearly as serious or
important as you may
initially think.
Just keep showing up,
trusting that good things will come.
Be patient with the world and
all of its inhabitants, but
more than anything,
be patient
with
yourself.
Oh Julie, I want to adopt this poem right now. I want to be my favorite self, and I can relate to so many things in this poem. Thank you for sharing it today.
Wow…
Julie, I may just have to print this out and tape it to my mirror. And I especially love your title—I have never thought of my “favorite self” until reading this and I really need to start. Thank you!
Julie, I really liked the concept. I feel like it would be good for me to write something similar to help me visualize and attain my favorite self. As a teacher of seniors, I loved and connected to these lines: “Laugh…really laugh / at the near-constant silliness / seniors share at this point in the year/ “Want me to get you a croissant (she meant corsage) for prom?”” Wishing you all the genuine laughs <3
Julie,
Like we say in my sister circle: THIS IS A WHOLE MOOD! Clapping and shouting yessss!
Even before reading the comments of others, I was thinking, “I may have to print this one and tape it up on the mirror!” Wow!!
How to Give Driving Lessons
praise empty parking lots,
press your foot hard into the curve
of the floorboard,
telegraphing the beauty of brakes,
say nothing of consequence,
as your mind screams “we’re gonna die,”
practice deep breathing and
casually offer
the most banal story,
yet craftily
subliminal, something like
“slow day at work today—gotta like slow”
grip the armrest secretly,
wipe sweat from your hands privately,
don’t teach anything,
for heaven’s sake don’t teach,
unless by teaching you mean
going for a ride.
This has me realizing I am only six years away from being in that passenger seat. Thank you for the advice! I love all of the alliteration you used throughout. I read this one out loud because it looked so enjoyable to read.
thank you Rob!
This is a lovely ode to a challenge I have yet to experience. So well captured, “telegraphing the beauty of brakes,” such well chosen imagery.
Oh how I could feel this one right along with you! Connected from the first line! Understood “telegraphing the beauty of brakes” only too well after practicing driving with (not teaching) 4 teens!!
Flag
Unfurl your colors
of turquoise and yellow
swinging in the wind.
Don’t ever droop below.
Be sure to catch the light
and make everyone see.
Don’t hide your strength
or your dignity.
Rise up in the sky
don’t fall to the earth
And don’t forget the pole
that holds and supports you
or the arms that carry
your message above.
Swing in the wind
showing freedom and love.
Susan,
I light thinking about people and poetry in this way but have mixed feelings about the flag these days. You have reminded me that we need to remember “that holds and supports” and that we are the “arms that carry”. Remembering “freedom and love” today.
Sarah
It’s funny how I feel more comfortable flying other countries flags than my own right now. I appreciate the reminder of what it should represent and hopefully what it one day could return to. Loved the line “the arms that carry your message above.”
Wow! So interesting that by line two we knew the context. And, like Rob’s comment and your last line – giving us hope for a better world.
How to be a piano
stand tall and resolute
gather dust if you must
let your strings loosen over time
then allow them to be coaxed back
to tautness by skilled hands
hold your hammers always at the ready
and when your moment arrives
come alive.
Learn the soul of your player
then translate it
into melodies and chords
and release it.
Rachel!
Oh, piano. Love thinking about “stand tall” and “skilled hands” and “soul of your player”. So much of being a piano is like being a poem “release it.” Fabulous.
Sarah
I love the imagery you used here. There is something about a real piano, I don’t really play but whenever I am at my parents’ I find it hard to resist sitting down and playing the little I know. “come alive” is exactly how it feels the feel the vibrations from the magnificent instrument.
Wow, Rachel, my stepdad would adore this poem! He’s a classical pianist and literally lives and breathes his piano so I’m certain it’s reciprocated.
Love this!
“gather dust if you must
let strings loosen over time”
How these lines just grabbed me and spoke directly to my soul! thank you for this enduring portrait.
Kayaking is one of my hobbies. I so enjoy coming across water lilies and being able to paddle up so close to them. Then I snap photos to capture their stunning beauty so it can stay with me.
How to Be a Water Lily
Water-dwelling majestic flower
Command notice.
Do not be demure in your splendor.
You are not a one trick pony.
You are more than starry beauty afloat.
Reborn annually from your winter home in the muck below.
Changing shades as your blooms mature.
Providing shade so water stays cool and algae birth is slow.
Sheltering fish beneath your leaves from preying eyes of birds.
Close at darkness.
Reopen at dawn.
Resurrect your beauty
and
Pronounce it proudly.
Cathy,
What a first line “Water-dwelling majestic flower”! How wonderful to think about this and then “Reborn annually”. I am drawn to that and am trying so hard to be reborn and reinvigorated to have more majestic life to give others.
Peace,
Sarah
Sheri, thank you for the prompt that brought me back after a pause of several days.
This got me thinking about what it means to just be.
How to just be
This may be the hardest because all you need to do is already happening.
exist now, exist then
Don’t get flustered, you’re doing great, sweetie
Roll your eyes or fix them as you like
stare into nothingness
or swallow the night sky in its entirety.
Seeing is not believing
Believing is being
Still
Still you
Still breathing, seeing, believing
This may be the hardest because all you need to do is already happening.
Sherri,
This line. This: “or swallow the night sky in its entirety.”
What a powerful image.
Sarah
Hi Sherri, you are speaking to me! I aim for this acceptance of just BEING.
Only a True Kraken
To be a true Kraken, you must
Originate from
Greek Mythologythe 1700’s,Possess
multiple heads and clawstentacles,Enforce the will of
The Godsnature,And dwell in the depths of the
AtlanticMediterranean.Just as Dracula is
weakenedkilled by sunlightAnd Frankenstein’s monster
can talkis mute,These characteristics must be abided by at all times.
Any deviation is an insult to the character.
Jairus!
I have been thinking about you and hoping you are doing well. What a cool use of text features to strikethrough as metaphor and literal way of being “any deviation.”
Sarah
Poem 4/19
“How to clean and cook them”
First you allow the red bucket to thaw out
Don’t thaw in fridge
Thaw in sink or sit red bucket on the floor
Once they thaw
Put them in the sink
Don’t put hot water on them
But do put cold water on them
Once they are in the cold water
Peel the fat and dirt off
Keep rinsing while cleaning and do more rinsing and cleaning
Once they are cleaned
Do put them in a pot with peeled onions, peppers, and a potato to cut the smell
They need to simmer for at least 4-5 hours on low
Once finished simmering
The Chitterlings can be served
haha–i love the surprise here. You kept me guessing!
hahaha…thank you for reading
DesC, what an interesting poem. I do not believe I have ever eaten a Chitterling. Your poem makes me want to learn more. I love how you share important details as though you are sharing a secret family recipe by explaining the type of bucket to use to the kind of water to put them in as well as the ingredients to include. Your poem reminds me a bit about morel mushrooms which are hunted around this area in the spring. Very fun poem! Thank you!
Barb- thanks for reading. I hope you get to try a chitterling one day.
Kasey, I am completely and thoroughly moved by your poem. Your fierce voice shares the torment and courage it takes to be a survivor. The imagery is incredible from the shooting pills to the quaking thighs. I especially found the stanza “Remember all the things/A poem could never Pain…” compelling. Followed by “Shatter it to fucking pieces”.. “Scream!” Yes, it’s not easy to be a survivor and you’ve captured that through and through. Love the whisper at the end…”You are here”.. as it does sound more hopeful. Powerful, magnificent poem. Thank you for sharing this awesome poem and your brave voice with us today!
Thank you for such a cool prompt– its like taking a nap in cool clover!!
The Whine of the Lullaby
Lucid wondering eye
To wake upon a sigh,
Hearing the same melody all night,
Lucid anger twisted in fright.
So little, so sound,
Harmonic notes so profound!
Over and over the notes flow,
I cover my head with a pillow.
As beads of sweat drip down my face,
The devil’s tune increases pace.
I, I cannot take this anymore,
Up from my bed, my feet hit the floor.
As my lucid eye search for the culprit,
The heated composition quit.
I, I with my lucid eye,
Laid back down with a sigh.
Close my eyes for a second,
As his legs began to beckon.
Back and forth, repeating tune,
Serenading, scorching June.
Flushed red with the nerve in my eye,
The agony of his summons, a lunatic’s cry.
Hours into the black,
Legs from front to back.
As I slip into a lucid dance,
I am engulfed in the tuned trance,
I realized in my final dash of sanity,
It was me, filled with inanity.
Charming daze of repeating picot,
Enthralled in the
Lucid tunes of a summertime cricket.
-Boxer
This is going to sound weird, but your poem reminded me of the strangest thing. It reminded me over sleeping over at a friends house as a kid, falling asleep watching a movie, and then waking up in the middle of the night (still half asleep) to the sound of weird DVD menu music. Your imagery about sleeping and music reminded me of my nostalgia for those times. Well done.
Jumping in to this with a need to discover the source of the lullaby whine intrigued me right away. There were just enough hints that I had an idea and was interested to see at what point it would be confirmed (those beckoning legs!).
Sheri, thank you so much for the wonderful prompt. Recently, I have been involved with a group learning and sharing information about Grant Wood so I wanted to try to capture him in today’s poem. I think this prompt is so perfect for the classroom to encourage students to gain a better knowledge of any topic and then make it their own. Loved the last line of your first poem: “Kiss our faces on warm days”. Gorgeous!
An American Gothic, Grant Wood
paint sensuous verdant green hills
pregnant with promise
fertile rows of corn
barns, meandering streams,
lollipop trees
create an art colony in Stone City
be a teacher
fashion a chandelier with corn cob ears
transform a carriage house
name it 5 Turners Alley
travel to Europe four times
construct the Veteran’s Memorial Window
from glass made in Germany
be shunned by the DAR; in return─
satirize their prudish scornful faces
pose your sister and dentist
in front of a home in Eldon
call it American Gothic
become a famous artist─
be Grant Wood
Barb Edler
19 April 2022
I never knew much about the painting American Gothic except that it was the famous farmer with a pitchfork portrait. This was a creative way of sharing the artist’s life.
Agree with Jairus!! I learned so much through these four stanzas. The verbs (paint, create, travel, pose) generate strong images that lead into such interesting facts. Thanks so much!
Ahhh Sheri – how I love the thought of “Waft scents of gardenias and honeysuckle” breezes! A true feeling of summer.
Thank you also for the inspiration of today. I have a new love of the weather word graupel, having researched and written about last week, so I returned to the topic once again
How to be Graupel
I may have been born a snowflake
With crystals perfectly formed
Transformed by weather unusual
And altering my name too!
On the day of my birth I found myself
drifting slowly down to earth
Super cold air envelops around
Riming my every arm
With air unstable these droplets
flash freeze upon my core
Changing me into a mushy ball
I once again free fall
Don’t confuse me with sleet
I glitter opaque and white
Not clear and translucent
Much like the other kinds
I’m small and make the grass look white
Unlike hail, a chunk of ice,
I fall gently to the earth
Without damage to your car
I know my presence is obscure
Not like my cousin sleet
I have a place in the weather world
As precipitation formerly known as
soft hail
Your poem illustrates the majesty of the precipitation phase of the water cycle. Truly something that could be enjoyed in a science or literature class.
Oh! I’d never even heard of graupel, and now I’m connecting with my asteroid poem and a new word I came across in the research: regolith. I appreciate the cousin references to describe related but a degree of separation giving me something familiar for comparison, but knowing, now, there is a difference.
Kasey, such strength and fortitude! “Push until the cry pierces your soul,” birthing a new day, just powerful. This alliteration is incredibly evocative, really emotional, I think:
Sheri, this was a very fun stretch for my brain! A new perspective on things! I especially loved the ‘good behavior’ limits for breeze, no blasting, whirling, shrieking, howling – reminded me of my classroom rules for preschoolers, hahaha
My granddaughter and I have been watching a chrysalis, waiting…I decided it would make a good topic –
How to be a chrysalis
do not seek the limelight,
bask in your golden wrap
appreciate the peripheral
do not grieve what has passed
you hold both egg and caterpillar within
savor the quiescence
do not fear the future
simply pray for the butterfly
know that you are liminal
do not doubt your strength
you are strong and can hold on
be patient throughout
light awaits
This is beautiful. I really enjoy the last two lines- be patient throughout, light awaits. It is so truly magical what happens inside a chrysalis.
Maureen,
I love the musicality, the rhythm throughout your poem. It’s like a heartbeat. So many gorgeous images and sounds: “appreciate the peripheral,” for example. The line “you hold both egg and caterpillar within” reminds me of Walt Whitman’s ‘I contain multitudes.” And “quiescence” is a beautiful word. I’ve read the poem several times and conclude it is an allegory for living well as a sentient being. Love it.
Maureen, what a gorgeous poem. I love how you open this and your use of personification. “bask in your golden wrap” and “do not grieve what has passed” and then the end “light awaits”. Wow! Provocative and beautiful. Well done!
Maureen, while this is about a butterfly in a chrysalis, there are life lessons tucked in for us all. It’s beautiful!
This is fantastic! Its economy and word choice create a perfect image of how to be one. Peripheral and quiescence and liminal really word and I really like the concept of patience and waiting for the light.
Oh, golly. Gorgeous poem. You chose the right words for this beautiful and gentle liminal creature. “golden wrap” and “savor the quiescence” and “light awaits” – Wow! Yes, great topic. It is lovely to consider this in-between state in a whole poem of its own.
I, like others, so enjoyed and appreciated the imagery and connections beyond the chrysalis. As I mentioned in a previous comment, I am late to reading the poems as my father-in-law passed away on this day. So, lines like, “do not grieve what has passed” and “light awaits” held comfort and hope for me. He was 10 days away from turning 94 and enjoyed relatively good health and surrounded by loved ones. Many thanks.
“Shatter it to fucking pieces”
Yes, yes!
How to Be with PSTs (preservice teachers)
Drift muted among contentions.
Note gripes but tuck fears in
fissures of compassion.
Stir doubt lulling in lates &
absences. Balm wounds,
reveal roots of why.
Don’t obscure reasons as
excuses. Be relentless in
presence, pushing open links
& doors & chairs
to listen.
Carry just enough of theirs
to help them see what’s
possible in a profession
ever-evolving.
Sarah, I worked many years with preservice teachers – how lovely it would have been to post this poem on my bulletin board, to have a moment of inspiration at the ready. It is hard and beautiful work, I think, to be the guide on the side of these future leaders. I particularly love the way you worded and placed
early in your ‘prayer’/guidance – those problematic delayed arrivals are often the very early signs of someone who fears they are failing; I just love the gentle word ‘stir’ here – as in be tender, seek to know more, to affirm the budding teacher in some way. Thank you for this!
Sarah,
I have often imagined you sitting w/ preservice teachers, listening to their words, whatever they have to say; thinking about and drawing on your own days teaching middle school; affirming them and validating all the fears and feelings. I know your gentle, kind ways make you the mentor they need at this vulnerable, difficult time in their lives when so many educators feel uncertain about our profession. There are so many gorgeous lines and images in your poem, but
“tuck fears in
fissures of compassion.”
is the one that resonates most with me, for the alliteration, for the diction. Your poem is a gentle reminder of how every mentor needs to interact w/ mentees.
Sarah, I find your opening so compelling. I can see you silently listening, taking it all in, delivering sage words of advise full of compassion. “Be relentless”…yes, that is especially important when teaching, and present! Teaching has become increasingly more difficult due to all the challenges brought on by the pandemic and political posturing. Our governor wants to give private schools 55 million dollars in state tax money for scholarships for 10,00 students to attend private K-12 schools, money that would come directly from the state’s public-school districts. Anyway, I love your poem and I know your students are genuinely lucky to have you as their guide and mentor.
Encouraging for any new or veteran teacher.
Sarah,
I sure wish that I could have had you as a professor. Your students are so very lucky. You get them! And, the way you are current and compassionate make you so relatable. As for the poem, your economy is impressive and your ideas dead on. I especially love
Acknowledging what’s very real for them yet holding them to a standard will really help create dynamite teachers.
Sarah, other professors could learn some things from you about how to be with people. I know, for I have experienced this care, as well. Beautiful! One of my favorites:
“Be relentless in
presence, pushing open links
& doors & chairs
to listen.”
I continue to find wisdom in your words whether spoken or written. Continue to feel so fortunate to be your colleague. Every line is so powerful and carry such powerful teacher wisdom. Thank you, as always.
Advice from an Old Flower
By Nancy White
Don’t worry, just be.
Turn your face to the sun and stretch out your arms.
Be content to be one of many, yet unique.
Don’t hesitate to drink lots of water.
Be open to admiration and praise.
Don’t shoo away visitors
always provide them food and drink
and a safe place to land.
Know when it’s your time to shine
and your time to fade away.
Cherish your time in rain or shine
and be grateful.
Nancy,
Thanks for the line “Don’t hesitate to drink lots of water.” I immediately took a sip that had been waiting for me for hours. That advice of “Know when it’s your time to shine” is so difficult, but the light (and water) helps us prepare. Love this.
Sarah
Nancy, we have so much to learn from an old flower! I just love this!! “Turn your face to the sun and stretch out your arms,” we all need this.
Such sage advice….your line “know when its your time to shine and your time to fade away” really struck me.
Ah, this poem really hits the spot today. Just the right amount of cheer, levity and warmth. “Turn your face to the sun and stretch your arms.” – perfection! Thank you!
Nancy, wow, I adore your poem. From the title to the opening line, your poem is stunning with sage advice. “always provide them food and drink/and a safe place to land./Know when it’s your time to shine/and your time to fade away.” Followed by “and be grateful”. I am deeply moved! Gorgeous, gorgeous poem!
So encouraging and vibrant. I love the ” cherish your time in rain or shine and be grateful. A great reminder to embrace whatever comes our way with positivity and openess.
Oh, how much we people are like flowers. Or can be or should be. Your poem is beautiful!
Advice from an Old Flower
Oops! Sorry—posted by mistake.
Posted by mistake? So glad you did! I was thinking of the flower today while I walked. I love the lines about knowing when it is the time to shine and when it is time to fade away.
Thanks! What I posted by mistake is the one line only that I posted before finishing.
This is so powerful, Kasey. So true how we “Pretend the past can be pieced/
Back together” and we go through like forgetting (stuffing) down pain. Then the hard challenge of facing it all, sometimes “Shoot happy pills like tequila
Shoot them like stars”. Finally the emergence of a new self, a self who’s been reborn. Your last stanza—wow!
Special Snowflake
They call me a special snowflake
Like it’s a bad thing…
I’m symmetrical, but not perfect
I’m order created from disorder
I started my journey from dust
And I’m sensitive to temperature
We experience the same history of development
But it’s nearly impossible
For the two of us
To be the same
I’m fleeting and temporary
Sculpted by chemistry and physics
Random sorts of atoms slam dance
as I reside in a number of possible states
They call me a special snowflake
Like…it’s a good thing…
Jennifer,
Last night in class, we were talking about tone vs mood, and this poem is an invitation to hear the speaker’s tone on snowflakes. I love the first person claim in the “I” and the resistance to “They” –such agency in the self-knowing here. Love it.
Sarah
Jennifer, I love the assertiveness of this poem, the self-knowledge and confidence professed by this snowflake. We have much to learn from Nancy’s old flower and your special snowflake, I think!! Love the science allure of
That really IS something special, I think!
Jennifer, sensational poem! I love your topic and the focus on the snowflake’s uniqueness and fleeting beauty. “Random sorts of atoms slam dance”..wow, what a fantastic line. Your ending line is provocative. Thank you for your awesome poem and perspective!
Jennifer,
I appreciated the merging of science and art in “sculpted by chemistry and physics” and the change in tone from beginning to ending.
Thanks,
Sheri
I recently led several STEM writing workshops for young girls, and you can BET this prompt is going to be part of next year’s event! Thank you, Sheri, I love this! And, as I am trying to come to terms with June Bugs – today’s poem.
Hello Phyllophaga
Mama June drop your hundred eggs under the soil and let those babies grow.
Don’t worry, pupae, about gardens you destroy – you need your nourishment, too.
Stay tucked away for several years, however much time you need.
Don’t get caught by the gardener’s trowel, skunks, raccoons, or moles.
Stay your ugly grubby selves until you are ready to emerge.
Don’t be seen by daylight lest you become a protein crouton for the birds.
Only raise your sacred scarab self at night to forage fields for food.
Don’t go near that bright porch light or bump or buzz against the window screens.
Understand that not everyone will appreciate the important role you play.
Don’t let it get you down; remember your ancestry is hundreds of genera strong.
Denise,
PLEASE contact me about STEM writing workshops!!! Would LOVE to know more about what you are doing! So much here – loved “…lest you become a protein crouton for the birds.” So many ways to stop short in the life cycle: gardener’s trowel, skunks, raccoons, or moles.
How To Be a Mom of a Player and the Wife of a Coach
text your son immediately after the game
telling him what a great game it was and how proud you are of him.
listen to his gripes
when he walks in the door.
nod your head to let him know
you are in his corner.
resist the temptation to chime in
and undercut his coach’s authority.
let some time pass so player
can calm down and let things marinate.
circle back to the rants and work
to diffuse the ticking bomb.
help him to see that he is secondary
to the team.
reinforce that the coach has to do
what’s best for the collective group.
remind him that baseball imitates life
and what he’s learning will serve him well.
tell him that no game is more important
than the relationship with his father.
finally,
I divert the subject to the Celtics and Nets game
when said coach walks in the house.
~Susan Ahlbrand
19 April 2022
What a fun prompt, Sheri! And the examples you shared were wonderful. I will be remembering some of your advice.Even though I’m not a breeze or asteroid, I will not shriek or howl. I will be myself.
How to Be a Falling Leaf
Do not mourn when the celebration is over
and friends leave you clinging to a branch.
Do not be afraid when ice glazes
the edge of your party dress and cold winds bluster.
Do not be afraid!
Let go!
Twirl! Float! Dance!
And when the wind stops,
when you finally kiss the chapped earth,
Feed the hungry—
the mites and millipedes, springtails and sow bugs.
Give shelter to snails and slugs,
beetles and caterpillars.
Protect hibernating butterflies—
the Mourning Cloak and Tortoiseshell.
Do not be afraid.
You are further from the sky, but still home.
This is such a great poem about the stages a falling leaf goes through. I love the repetition of “Do not be afraid.” Beautiful.
Wow! I love every single stanza of this poem; the ice glazing, the dancing, the kiss, the purpose and the advise to not be afraid. Beautiful!
Such a supportive piece of writing- encouraging the letting go when a season ends and embracing the part of life that comes next even though it may be different.
The images you create are genuine and ripe. My favorite lines: “Do not be afraid when ice glazes
the edge of your party dress and cold winds bluster.” Somehow, “edge of your party dress” sends the just right signals to my picture-conjuring mind, as does “kiss the chapped earth,”
Truly a pleasure to spend time with your poem.
ann, this is a poem for changes and embracing them (do not be afraid!). The image of the ice glazed party dress is beautiful. And I love the kiss against the chapped earth, especially as it provides for so many. We can move from our original place and still be home!
Ann,
I love this whole poem! The repetition of the line “Do not be afraid”, the 3rd stanza–“Twirl! Float! Dance!”, and everything from “kiss the chapped earth” on, so pretty much the whole poem, is sooo good.
Sheri, I am totally into this idea for a writing prompt across all content topics. I’m an English teacher, so I’m going to give some grammar a go at this and use the format as found in the poem example “How to Be a Breeze”
How to Be Italicized
Be there for the designated.
Don’t skew recognition to the least divulged.
Emphasize.
Don’t overdo it.
Point out others so they are noticed.
Don’t mix and mingle with too many.
Be different, but complementary.
Don’t stand out too often.
Slope slightly, just enough to not be conventional.
As a former English teacher, I absolutely love this poem. So much advice here for all of us. Emphasize but don’t over do…be different but complementary. Slope just enough to not be conventional. What excellent advice!
This is a great poem for instruction of the use of italics. Very clever.
I love this! I think my new goal in life is to be italicized!
Amber,
Clever, clever, clever poem. During my teaching years I often told students to look at the world sideways when they asked me how I came up w/ something, so your last line,
“Slope slightly, just enough to not be conventional.” is my favorite. Being unconventional is so much more interesting anyway.
Beautifully crafted and so glad you italicized “just” (and wish I could italicize “so”).
How to be a dog
Go for a walk
Pant aggressively
Beg for food endlessly
Bark at the mailman
Play with my toys all the time
Wait for my hooman to come home
Sleep next to my hooman
Repeat
Ahhh. A dog’s life, so simple and carefree, easily pleased, when lovingly taken care of by their human. Love this.
Emma,
Love that the voice in the poem is a dog’s. We have one that likes toys and one that doesn’t.
I thought about writing a “how to be a dog” poem today too – I’m glad I got to read yours! I love “hooman,” and your last line: Repeat. Seems like we always want to be doing new and different things as humans – but dogs are so content to just do the same thing, day after day. Maybe we could learn from them!
How to breath
Deeply, like you are immersed in the
penultimate chapter of your favorite book
Intentionally, like how you take hold of
your child’s hand before crossing the street
Peacefully, to slow your heart that races
at the frantic pace of the day’s wildness
With long pauses, just short of a gasp,
to sweeten your appreciation of the deep inhale
Measured, like the strides of a marathon runner
knowing that too quick or too slow brings defeat
Lovingly, knowing that each one could be your last,
and the next is dependent upon the one that came
before.
Dave,
With every line I become more conscious of my breath. Your words are teaching me peace, measure, love — thank you for this “sweeten your appreciation of the deep inhale.” Wonderful.
Sarah
Dave,
The line that takes my breath is
“Lovingly, knowing that each one could be your last,”
It could be. A few months ago I read the book Breath and realized I know little about breathing. Your poem reminds me of much in that book. Great job.
Thank you for making me think so carefully about a topic that I have not before. Those adverbs beginning the lines are powerful.
Wow, this is awesome. I love all the analogies, but I think your first two lines are my favorite: “Deeply, like you are immersed in the / penultimate chapter of your favorite book.” Definitely can relate to this. 🙂
Sheri,
My planned-to-teach-physics-but-turned-to-English soul adores this prompt. There is so much life and possibility in the task that can apply to anyone, anywhere, anytime, for any reason. I love your personal work, particularly the asteroid saying hello and goodby to siblings and your advice to “not have an identity crisis with gaseous stars. Be yourself.” Just wonderful. Thank you for this!
How To Be a Star
Speak every tongue
As the world gazes upon you
And whispers its prayers.
Allow yourself to be lucky,
To catch the wishes of a child
Whose eyes fill with wonder.
Trace etchings upon a canvas
Joining the ancient stories of man
Woven through constellations.
Guide lost sailors home,
charting their expeditions
Though dark and distant waters.
Comfort the mourning widow
As she claws through a world
Suddenly blanketed in night—
Illuminate the sky to remind her that
Light shines on, even through death.
Poignant last stanza. I love how a star can take on so many roles. Lovely.
Gorgeous is the best word I can think of to describe this poem. I love the second stanza, “allow yourself to be lucky.” And yes, that last stanza is so strong. I love the image of the widow clawing (what a perfect word) through the night – while the star shines on. Thank you for sharing this piece.
Wow, Rhiannon. This is so mystical to start, going through the different kinds of legends and myths about the stars, but then grounding it in realities, and then circling back around to that mystical sense again. Cyclical. That first line is utterly stunning and what drew me in. Nicely done.
Oh this took some thinking. Great prompt! There are some wonderful examples expressed here, which helped me to think. Thank you! I pondered and pondered and took an idea from one of my recent blog posts about finding sand dollars on the South Carolina Coast.
How to be a Sand Dollar
Bask under southern blue skies,
Feel the ocean breeze, salty on your surface.
Hide yourself among the seashells –
Golden yellow, pale pink,
Deep purple, and luminous blue.
Find yourself nestled next to rippled scallop
And pearly white clam shells,
Steer clear of that horseshoe crab.
Half submerge your sand-colored self
In the crystal blue water.
Don’t dry out and become a brittle white shell.
Drift into a calm, translucent tide pool
Between spider crabs, snails, and cowrie shells,
Lie there, intricately carved
A quiet symbol of good luck.
A simple circle, etched and notched
Recounting the life of Jesus –
His wounds, His sacrifice, His resurrection.
Remain in this cool, clear water,
Come to rest and pray for peace.
So beautiful, Joanne – I remember your blog post with the gorgeous photos, living sand dollars in stunning colors. I find your verse here by the shore to be restful, restorative, and so peaceful – definitely beckoning prayers of gratitude.
Absolutely agree with Fran. This was like a meditation to read. I could see those colors and shapes and patterns like a film was playing in my mind. I love this line, “Half submerge your sand-colored self” – there’s just something sassy in this syntax, but also light and playful. Interesting religious connections with that natural element. I remember those stories and connections from my childhood but hadn’t thought of them until reading this. I mean, I don’t encounter too many sand dollars here in Michigan – ! But I do remember the birds on the inside – doves, I think. Interesting how we make these stories and how long-lasting they are. Beautiful.
How to Live
Don’t be afraid, breath deeply
Travel the world, be a giver
Love hard, bury your hate
Continue to dream, be spontaneous
Don’t wait, time is precious
Be yourself, worry little
Feel your presence, breathe its essence
Be free, run, laugh, love, cry, indulge
Don’t just exist, live and just be
Hi Derek! I loved your “how to live” poem, especially the part that talks about not wasting time. Boy is that true.
Great poem, Derek, like a shorter version of Desiderata, full of wisdom. I love every line.
Derek, your first line inspired my poem (when I was kinda stuck!).
“Love hard, bury your hate” and “Don’t wait, time is precious” are particularly poignant and words to live by, for sure.
How to be Creative
Express your uniqueness
Don’t try to hide
Show your particular talents
to your family and peers
Experiment
with things never experienced
Know you are worth it
no matter the risk
Be part of the mystery
Unveil why you were created
Try to inspire
Don’t collapse into despair
Know your roots
Engage in life’s experiment
Give yourself permission
Don’t hold back
Be free of obligations
Don’t spend time doing chores
Speak to your fear
Accept it’s challenge
Always watch, take in and learn
Don’t close up your mind
Expand and rise
to the occasion – CREATE!
Thanks for this prompt today. I must admit I was also inspired by listening to a section of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic.
I love this, big sister, and you made this way of living so well. You’re the most creative person I know, full of life, sense of adventure, unafraid to experiment. ?
“Don’t spend time doing chores” – HAHAHAHAHA! That is such great advice! A colleague and I were just bragging about who has the most dust in their house. So many other better things to do! I also appreciate this line, “Don’t collapse into despair” – reminding me that many of what seem like life’s dramas will soon pass into whatever being alive brings next. And that’s when we will “watch, take in and learn” – isn’t that what life is all about! Thank you, Susan. CREATE!
Finn
By: Emily Yamasaki
How to be a dog
find the sunny patches in the home
check under the high chair, there are always crumbs
practice isolating small movements in your brow
this is more powerful than puppy eyes
the rug near the door is best for back scratches
don’t chew on chair legs
greet humans with a toy offering
demand butt scratches
always make time for zoomies
“practice isolating small movements in your brow/this is more powerful than puppy eyes” is inspired gold. ❤️
Hi Finn! I wrote about the same topic as you! Too funny. I loved that part about chewing on chair legs, my lab is a culprit of this. Thanks for sharing!
Emily,
I had to stop reading to put Snug on the couch. He didn’t want to jump. Your poem reminds me of all the ways my dogs control our home. I laughed at
“demand butt scratches”
In a few minutes I’ll have to share my lunch w/ the dogs. It’s the same at every meal.
Thank you for hosting today Sheri and this prompt inspired me to mix Reading and Science, hopefully today. Learning is cross-curricular and so is poetry! Your poem, “How to Be a Breeze” resonated with me because I keep looking for Spring, and it’s nowhere to be found. I’m cold with these windy, chilly days. I long for a breeze when it becomes stifling. Most of our afternoons are spent outside and twice a week on a farm, and although I don’t have bad allergies, I would appreciate the dust not kissing my lips or the wafting scents of manure. As you wrote, “Kiss our faces on warm days.” Just make me not sweat as much. Please and thanks.
How to Be a Peep
Surrounded by wooden tables creaky floors,
Encased by plastic in the unnatural world, where it’s a stifled 99 degrees.
Shuffled between racks that rotate on a timer,
Laid by a mama, eggs taken from her too soon who
can’t love on them because she’s a factory.
Peeking are momentary mamas who watch over them,
recognizing us from the temporary chassis they will soon breach.
Drying out, seeing the many colors of the rainbow around them.
Implanted soon on the farm, ready to determine pecking order at sweet 16 days old.
Running wild at 9 miles per hour.
Don’t use water, for dust baths are the norm-exfoliate and tone.
Don’t sweat it if they don’t sweat
because they don’t.
Forgotten mama, but breed branded by different combs and wattles.
Ready to rule the roost, but first time to
EAT!
I forgot to post my pic. Here are our new peeps who hatched yesterday!
Adorable peeps, Jessica, and so much great wordplay in this piece!
”Don’t sweat it if they don’t sweat/because they don’t” was a great bit of chiasmus that made me laugh out loud. ?
Thank you Wendy! Our students have been learning about farm animals and last week that was the question of the day. And also for my new vocabulary word. I didn’t do that on purpose; that was purely accidental! I’m learning so much here!
Love this, Jessica, as a “farmer’s granddaughter” – we were never around for hatching, but lots of scratching! I also fostered a couple of hen-pecked girls for a summer, and when I read “Running wild at 9 miles per hour” I laughed out loud. Those two girls would come running every time I got home because they knew I would dig up some worms for them. Chickens really are so cool.
How to Finish Your Bottles of Shampoo and Conditioner at Exactly the Same Time
Kidding.
It can’t be done.
If you say you can,
you’re either a liar
or in league with
the Devil (according
to my wife).
_______________________________________________
Thank you, Sheri for your mentor poems and your prompt today! I can definitely see it working as a fun and engaging lesson in the classroom. I tweaked the prompt a bit (“How to” instead of “How to be”) because I had to poemify this funny conversation that I had with my wife the other night.
laughing here. Exactly!
Ha!
Scott, thank you for proving the impossible. I’m glad to say that I’m not in league with the Devil.
Oh my gosh, Scott, this made me laugh. I was genuinely interested when I read the title because I have the same exact issue.
This man has learned to buy the Shampoo/Conditioner combination that comes as one bottle. Problem solved. And “League with the Devil” poems might be a prompt for 2023’s #VerseLove. Love the punch….”Kidding. / It can’t be done.”
Scott,
This inability to finish the shampoo and conditioner together is what we call a first world problem. I’m over here nodding knowingly. You did not disappoint in your topic choice today. Fun poem from start to finish.
So true!!! Nodding my head in agreement while chuckling aloud!
I love this…and I agree, it can’t be done!
I always appreciate your humor!
Thank you, Sheri, for this idea!
how to pray at home.
There’s a rusty chair left over
from your grandparents in law,
one the squirrels haven’t yet
torn to shreds.
Pull it from the corner of the yard
and right to the center,
the pollen crunching
under your feet.
There’s a neighbor behind you,
his garage door open,
music is playing, something is
being fixed or installed.
Push that from your focus,
and avoid being annoyed
by his perpetual busy
suburban nesting.
There’s a deck before you,
decades old, creaking & buckled
from rain & sun,
boards warped & bleached,
nails reaching upward.
Some slats mossed over
fold beneath the lightest
of footsteps.
Give thanks for the long years
this space has given you,
and avoid being annoyed
at this crumbling hazard.
There’s a vista before you,
a roof that’s never leaked,
a tree above it, right at the center
of this part of your life.
Cross your legs. Palm the glass
of wine. Watch for mosquitos.
And look up.
There are clouds & birds,
branches & wind.
It’s all starting again.
It always will.
More stuff I’ve written at MiddleAgedMiddleChild
Joel, thanks for this lovely and thought-provoking piece today. In the midst of a beautiful snowstorm here it’s a good day to pray at home. :). Loved the last two lines, especially: peaceful and lovely.
Thank you for your kind words 🙂
Joel, this is great! I’ve been praying for a new house. Maybe I need to go outside and look in and be grateful for all the paint-stripped doorways, paint-less walls, and those spots that keep reminding me I need our roof looked at. This is my reminder, “Cross your legs. Palm the glass
of wine. Watch for mosquitos.”
And look up.” Minus the wine, but I’ll take a nice ice-cold glass of sweet tea or a Sonic slush! Thank you for reminding me to be thankful and appreciative of what I already have.
Joel,
This is lovely. The varied images of life and wear and tear and growth all harmonize in an idyllic scene. The notion of praying at home, a private place, rather than in public appeals to me. I do not like public prayer–most of the time. I thought about how the poem reads if I change one word: “at” to “for” and the gratitude inherent in the lines you’ve penned today. I like thinking about the duality.
Praying at home has been on the mind coming up to Passover, that holiest of days on the Jewish calendar, which is celebrated in one’s home
Joel,
Appreciation and finding value and even beauty in thing discarded or forgotten spilled out of so many lines for me:
“…the rusty chair left over
from your grandparents in law.”
“There’s a deck before you
creaking and buckled
from rain & sun,
boards warped & bleached,
nails reaching upward.
Some slats mossed over”
“Give thanks to the long years
this space has given you,”
Thank you!
How To Be A Beach Chair
Be colorful and attractive to look at,
Storable and ready to have beach bags piled atop,
Be willing to have towels laid over you,
Water bottles set in your cup holder
Do not even think of not being able to recline
Anticipate water dripping from your seat,
Bodies of all sizes plopping into you unappreciatively,
Children whining when they are sent to sit in time-out,
Be willing to be moved closer to or farther from the water
(at times every 10 minutes)
Owners wiping every last grain of sand off you
(For God’s sake people, it’s the beach)
To be adored by sun-worshippers everywhere.
Thank you so much for this springtime reflection and for the way that furniture is so forgiving, so pliant to our needs. Oh, and love the way you deploy parentheses here : )
I love this dedication to a beach chair. Wiping every last grain of sand off – don’t we all try to do this impossible task! Thanks for sharing!
This really makes me long for summer. Being in San Diego, the beach chair is a part of my life. I like the image fo “bodies of all sizes plopping into you unappreciatively.” It made me chuckle at the memory of a time the beach chair just gave up from exhaustion and collapsed.
Heidi,
This is a clever poem. I smiled throughout, especially at the parts in parenthesis. Being a beach chair strikes me a little like being a mom. Hum. Don’t know if that’s what you had in mind, but I do like considering the poem that way.
Sheri, Barry Lane will be thrilled to learn that he was the inspiration for today’s #VerseLove. I will channel being the breeze today (thank you”
Perhaps I should have written, “How to Be Right with Words,” instead of the title that germinated from today’s seed. It’s all good. I tend to follow my heart (and mind).
How To Find the Right Words
for Miriam Bility
~b.r.crandall
There’s the blue sky, of course,
the clouds, the sun, and
always the stories
of boys, girls, families
on the run
hoping this elsewhere
might be a somewhere
that is safe.
Before Kuch was murdered
there was laughter,
his pontification of being named lost
when he was right before us,
sitting on a front porch
with brothers, cousins —
Dinka and proud
nɛk puön dït
We are not boys,
we are men.
There was that time
he wondered, Why are you so wet,
when his car broke down
at Bowman Field
and he needed a ride home.
I went for a run, I told him,
Oh, was a lion chasing you?
(just genetics
and an attempt
to find answers
where they seldom exist).
All wounds bleed
and communities remain in need
for several days (forever)…
fender bender, anger, guns.
I had
my wheels
and prayers,
mentorship
for the madness.
What’s the tradition,
I asked at the kitchen table,
when a life is lost?
This land.
Neverland.
No man’s land.
Land of the free.
We sacrifice a cow
and we pray.
So I drove them
to a cornfield in Indiana
and pointed to black & white
milk-makers gnawing on grass.
Let me know which one.
We ended up at McDonald’s.
(It is enough, they teased.
As long as you pay for all of us).
There are also the sunsets,
sunrises no matter where we live,
the way evening stars bathe their shine
in oceans and lakes during the day.
There’s Amazing Grace, too,
sung in a Church,
where voices of 200 men
from southern Sudan
lift a spirit to the sky.
There’s always that.
But there are no other words.
Rest in Peace, Akol Lual,
Syracuse, New York,
1998-2022
(the absurdity continues…)
There’s so much beauty and sadness in this poem, Bryan.
I went for a run, I told him,
Oh, was a lion chasing you?
(just genetics
and an attempt
to find answers
where they seldom exist).
That part was beautiful. The humor and then your turn to contemplation. But such sadness too. This poem is sitting with me.
Really love how you deploy so many voices & tones throughout, sometimes within a single stanza, sometimes within a single sentence. I also really admire how you’re able to unspool such a lengthy & complex thought–these days, these challenges, I often find myself running short … but maybe that’s lyric for you. Btw, you & I both leaned on the declarative “There is X” “there is Y” today : )
Money quote (which I think I understand)
I had
my wheels
and prayers […]
Bryan, followed this in the Syracuse news this week: just heartbreaking. Thanks for the touching and deft retelling and marriage of these stories.
Bryan, this is beautiful. Sad and beautiful. I want to simply sit with its undulating waves, with its gentleness and its power. Its sweetness and its loss. The way evening stars bathe their shine in oceans and lakes… I love this line. I love this poem.
This is crushing and beautiful, brother. Such a weaving of events and voices and feelings. I read it forwards and backwards, putting together a story I didn’t know.
Bryan,
I’ve read, re-read, and re-read again, just as I did with the story featuring Akol’s life published days after he was murdered. And, just as I felt after reading about Akol, I do not have the words, let alone the “right” words. You, however, have put into words such a profound sadness for this life, the senseless others, and their communities. It simply makes no sense. Sadness, anger, confusion. Thank you for offering the right words.
I sit with this,
I sit with you,
Our hearts united
orange and blue
tinged with
red hues of mourning.
Rhiannon…Prayers up.
??
Bryan. The absurdity continues…and the sadness. I want to say something about the evening starshine on the ocean (symbol of life) or the hilarity/lightening of the dark moments by driving to a cornfield to choose a sacrificial cow and McDonald’s sufficing instead… but I am hearing the voices of the Sudanese men singing the spirit to the sky. The holy, simple, freeing, haunting beauty of it – praise and prayer even in the tragic loss of life.
Your words here are so right.
This is hauntingly beautiful, Bryan. I wonder whether there is a connection between Kuch and Akol Lual other than they were both Sudanese?
Thanks for hosting today, Sheri. I think it’s fabulous that elementary teachers teach poetry in all curriculum areas. I worked w/ a math teacher years ago who taught a novel in her geometry class every year. I helped her w/ “Flatland.” I would like to make the wind obey your breeze poem, and I love the way your asteroid poem incorporates Greek roots and names into it. Lots of learning via the poem.
How to Be a Stumped Poet
Read the prompt .
Anticipate inspiration.
Think.
Don’t give up on your broken brain.
Look for possibilities in others’ poems.
Ask Siri—seriously.
Facepalm your head.
Shake some cells loose.
Don’t procrastinate or plagiarize.
Scroll headlines—
Omit social media’s black well of diversion.
Recall books on Ukraine, climate change, etc.
Flip the page in your big brain:
Wonder what Scott would write.
Choose something unexpected.
Don’t second guess your poem’s destination.
Write through the maze.
Remember it is enough simply to compose.
Post your poem.
—GlendaFunk
April 19, 2022
Oh! How clever. I definitely resonate with this one. “Remember it is enough simply to compose,” is such a powerful line for me because it helps me feel more confident in progress over perfection.
Glenda,
This is how I’m feeling today! “Look for possibilities in other poems” seems particularly poignant as I look for possibilities in other poems! And I got a chuckle out of “Ask Siri–seriously.”
Love it, Glenda. You’re playing your poetic ‘funk’ from your iPhone, too. Siri-ously. I love “Omit social media’s black well of diversion….wonder what Scott would write” – Thank you for posting this poem.
Glenda, love this clever response. 🙂
Love the reassurance at the end, a message for all of us.
“write through the maze”. Thanks for saying what so many of us feel, and for the dos & don’ts of advice. And I hope there’s more than one page to flip in my brain : )
Glenda, I have experienced many of these same gyrations when totally stumped (though I didn’t see ‘walk away and forget about it’ hahaha) – writing to answer a prompt is very challenging, I think. I adored the line “Wonder what Scott would write.” Great poem!
Your title pulled me in because I am stumped right now…. I am looking for possibilities in other’s poems right now. This is so true and accurate.
Glenda, I felt this way today. I want to try so hard to get something written each day this month, but sometimes I feel overwhelmed, especially when knowing how wonderful all the poetry will be like yours and Scott’s work. Perfect lines “don’t procrastinate or plagiarize.” Thank you for your witty and relatable poem! Sensational piece!
Glenda!! I’m smiling broadly here. After a long day of state testing drudgery, this was such a joy to read! Now, I hope you realize that if you were to only tweak a line or two and swap my name for yours here, this would be right out of my own “poetic playbook”! Thank you for writing this! And here’s to the continued “facepalm[ing] that accompanies trying to “craft” a poem every. single. day. 🙂
Aw, Scott, I’m glad you saw my poem. I didn’t want to trespass into your space and say, “Yo, Scott, my dude, didya read my poem?” BTW, I see your split infinitive and raise you a preposition at the end of a sentence! Breaking arbitrary rules I learned from a former nun in eighth grade is another writing goal I have.
How to be, indeed. And then how to “write through the maze.” Very fun and surprising poem today.
Love your clever take, Glenda. I do all this too. Especially:
Sheri, I love this prompt and your poems! Our “first-day-back-to-school-snow-day” happened today — yay! — which ensured that I have one more day to devote to perusing poems on here. It also inspired my poem today:
“How to Be a Spring Snowstorm”
Surprise everyone.
Muffle everything brown and growing
in cotton and stillness.
Force them to pause
And bow to your power.
Bring the world
to its knees.
Close buildings.
Stop traffic.
Pause life.
Some will gasp in awe at your beauty.
Some will curse your power, your spontaneity, your capriciousness.
Be okay with it: accepting, indifferent, knowing
that you possess unfathomable truths.
That this is just
the tip of the iceberg.
Wendy,
I’m a sucker for Spring snowstorms! I love your first 5 lines, especially how you evoke the stillness of that unexpected white blanket!
that you possess unfathomable truths.
These lines move me. I love the power but calm voice in your poem.
Wendy,
Gorgeous poem, but I’m among those who curse and cry when snow falls in spring. We had one day of warm weather–yesterday. Today is blustery, as the rest of the week will be. I’m going to try and channel your words when I’m out walking and celebrate the pauses and closings. I especially love the last lines:
“That this is just
the tip of the iceberg.”
Fabulous word play.
Glenda, I’m with you!
We did get one more day of vacation out of it. XD
Love that there’s a “gasp of awe” at the beauty of a surprise spring snowstorm – the verbs you chose perfectly capture what such storms do!
Sheri, I love any poetry prompt that clearly is cross-curricular. I’ve learned a few new things about asteroids this morning, so thank you for that and for hosting today.
—–
how to just be
watch butterflies, free
don’t stress about their effect
breath in the air, repeat life
don’t forget to exhale
read paper text for joy, hope
don’t fall into the abyss of your screen
be satisfied being alone, learn who you are
don’t forget you can say no
write verse to release, replenish
don’t worry how others interpret your…being
Stephani,
Thank you for sharing! I appreciate your line that reads “don’t forget you can say no.” I really struggle with this within the teaching profession. How do you say no to opportunities as a young educator? I have no extra time, yet I continue to say yes.
BOOM!
Love this! I need to post this on my desk! Thank you!
What an important list of things to do and not to do! I must remember all of it! Love the line and will repeat it to myself today “breath in the air, repeat life.”
Stefani,
You had me in the first two lines: “watch butterflies, free/don’t stress about their effect.” How easily we get caught up in these thoughts — the what if’s, what could have been’s, what happened because’s. Instead, be free. I feel like your “don’t” lines need to be on separate sticky notes left around my home. This was delightful.
I have had students write these poems after a biography unit. It has been years, though. This is a great form for content areas. Thank you for the reminder and time to write this type of poem today.
How to be Moss
Find a moist, shady area and
carpet a woodland or forest floor
in shades of green.
Break down the underlying layers of the soil and
release nutrients so more complex plants
that follow you can grow.
Help control the erosion of soil –
cover the surface and
soak up the water like a sponge.
Provide aid
BUT never put down any
true roots.
Moss! What a great topic to explore here …
Kevin
Heather, I appreciate your last stanza, I cannot help but compare it to humanity as well. Thank you for sharing today.
I’m with Kevin and Stefani on this one. I thought, “Moss! What a brilliant thing to write poetry about,” and then the last stanza connecting me to humanity. I’m really loving that. Thank you for sharing.
I do love a beautiful plush of moss! Wonderful! Thank you!
So fun! I love that this poem was tied to your life science unit. I may borrow this idea for my class this spring.
Heather,
I, too, find myself captivated by your final stanza. Your words provide such a philanthropic nature to moss that I’ve never considered. I suspect that as I walk the trails of my mountain community, I will give bounty of moss a wink of gratitude as I pass. Thanks for the lovely read.
One of my favorite things is sitting on moss-covered rocks beside a stream and writing. I love that you wrote about moss. It seems insignificant but has quite an impact.
Heather, I’m loving that woodland carpet in shades of green and the idea that no roots happen (kind of like carpet). This got me rethinking what I know about moss.
How To Be A Blues Chord
Broken strings to start a song
bend the neck to what’s left
At the crossroads, something’s wrong
but the remembering’s a gift
channel the passion of a hundred years
dance in dissonance, at best,
the flatted fifth brings on the tears
while fretted fingers won’t forget
Kevin
Your alliterative Fs st the end give such a vocal quality to the poem – – the neck, the crossroads, the flatted fifth and fretted fingers bring a song of sadness. Hauntingly beautiful today, Kevin!
Kevin, I think the line “remembering’s a gift” is so powerful in its connection to music and beyond–those feelings that control our body simply from remembering. Thank you for sharing today.
I like how this poem is concrete and metaphiscal at the same time and I clearly hear music in the rhythm of your words. Lovely!
Beautifully done. I love the lines:
Sheri, this is such a creative way to write across the curriculum! Since I am currently “midwifing monarchs” in a butterfly tent on my back patio, the facts are right there for me to see.
How to Be a Monarch Butterfly
Feel your striated egg
at the base of a milkweed leaf
start to strain as you grow.
Bust out, eat that egg shell
then get to work eating that leaf
Don’t leave that plant–
unless you eat it all,
and move to its sister.
When your skin gets too tight,
molt–and eat that, too.
Do that several times
for a few weeks,
until you feel
the urge to change.
Now you can leave the plant
search for a place to hang out.
Make a little white knot of silk
attach your back end to it
slowly lower yourself, head-down
and arch that back until you make a J.
Relax for a few hours, until….
You feel something inside about to burst.
Skin splitting, wriggle it up and off.
Twirl and wiggle, twirl and wiggle
until that silken cord is strong
and your new green chrysalis
begins to contract, harden
displaying beautiful golden spots.
Hang out, until you feel (again!)
the urge to bust out,
the green now transparent
your dots on display.
Head first, into the world
holding on tight to that empty husk
pumping fluid into those magnificent wings.
And when they are full, and you are ready,
fly off to feed, find a mate and a milkweed plant
and lay some beautiful, tiny, striated eggs.
“Head first, into the world”
Kevin
I think your poem’s title should be “how to be a monarch midwife”–I just love this idea/wording. The explanation of “pumping fluid” is also magical in a scientific way as well. Thank you for sharing today.
Ohhhh! How awesome to use what’s right there with you to make your poem. “Head first, into the world” speak the most to me today. I am thankful you have written this and I have been able to read it. It inspires me.
Feel the urge to change. May we all become butterflies!
Sheri – this seemingly-simple form is absolutely amazing! I’m in awe of your offerings here; the asteroid poem in particular takes my breath away. I can imagine the excitement of the students and their own awe on discovering the power of poetry crafted from facts. I love this – thank you!
How To Be a Seahorse
Don’t worry about being the slowest swimmer
in the sea;
just anchor your prehensile tail to long grasses
so that strong currents
don’t drown you
Don’t worry about your posture
being different from other fish;
let them be horizontal
you stay upright
Don’t worry about having no teeth
and no stomach
and no etiquette;
rejoice that your loud lip-smacking vacuum
enables you to eat constantly
so you can stay alive
Don’t worry about not having scales;
wear your bony armor
with befitting chivalry
Don’t worry how other fish do it;
you find someone
you blush, you flush bright colors
you court for a few days
prim and proper
keeping apart at night
meeting again just after dawn
—ye who are males, step up
sacrifice your own time and energy
on behalf of your beloved
by carrying the babies for her
(even if there ARE 2000 of them)
-out of all the universe
you be Dad Extraordinaire
and commit
for life
Never mind—if you do—
that your scientific name means
“horse sea monster”
—just wonder, if only you can,
little Hippocampus
why your very likeness
is embedded deep
in the temporal lobe
of the human brain
as the central storehouse
for emotion
for learning
for the vast, rolling sea
of human memory.
You can’t worry about that, Seahorse.
Just keep rolling your eyes
in every direction
independently of each other
and swim
(if ever so slowly)
onward
Fran, I love how you did this, and such a fun creature to learn more about – the seahorse picture is wonderful on your blog, too! They are such fascinating creatures to watch – I’ve only ever seen them in aquariums, though, and on documentaries. Nature teaches us so much about life – – and the seahorses are one prime example. I thought of you yesterday when Sy Montgomery shared that her new book, The Hawk’s Way, is to be published May 3. And I know you won’t believe this, but…..I wrote about a sea creature today, too…….Love the way you used your Don’ts at the beginning of each stanza!
Fran, I love how this resonates metaphorically in each stanza. Wonderful advice!
And today’s winner, Fran, for composing that poem that I want to print out and paint along the edges of my walls goes to….”How To Be a Seahorse” (that was an actual nickname I carried for several years in college). I love everything about this. Everything.
Love this prompt! Thank you! I’m already gathering facts and thinking about verbs.
Sheri, what a great way to incorporate writing into a science class. Delving in allowed me to discover. Everything about your breeze welcomes us into the morning, from the gentle flutters to the warm kiss. Thank you!
How to Be a Raindrop
gather yourself within a cloud
(don’t neglect dust and smoke)
take hands with those around you
(making a leap with others is always more fun)
play a game of bumperdrops
(you’re a cloud community, after all)
collide and cling
(water to water, drop to drop)
wash the sky
Wow! I envision kids reading this and learning about weather and being like me -wanting to “play a game of bumperdrops!” Nice work!
Jennifer – how joyful, endearing, lyrical, and enchanting! “Bumperdrops” – I adore it, and all the playfulness in this absolute delight of a poem.
Wash the sky … perfect ending
Kevin
Jennifer, what a creative way to explain how precipitation happens – – bumperdrops that collide and cling, get heavy, and fall back to earth. What fun – and the imagery helps them “see” how clouds work.
I love your use of the parentheses. My favorite lines – “collide and cling” and “wash the sky”
Jennifer, love the imagery in this! The “bumperdrops” was my favorite, and the very last line. 🙂
Sipping coffee this morning and loving the way “collide and cling” sound together, especially as it resonates with ‘colliding’ which the bumper drops totally do. Beautiful.
Jennifer,
I love your rhythm of the parenthetical (as well as the gentle guiding voice throughout each one, almost a note of encouragement). Bumperdrops…so great. Rather than one collective storm, I find myself connected to the existence of each raindrop as the individual. How wonderful this was to read!
Love this poem, particularly the parenthetical phrases. Makes me wish I could be a raindrop, hold hands and leap. It sounds like such fun!
Good morning, Sheri, and thank you for hosting us today. I love the prompt! This last line – don’t have a tail like a comet! Funny! What a great way to bring writing to your science class! I immediately thought of the video I received from my son on Easter, after the kayaking adventure with his two older children when they saw a pod of dolphins (video is on my blog at kimhaynesjohnson.com).It made me think about how to be a coastal adventure parent.
How to be a Coastal Adventure Parent
Absolutely love “Never underestimate the power of a dolphin to outdo the Easter Bunny.” You capture a snapshot of family- purpose- and nature in your art. A poetic lesson we all need to secure with our own.
Thank you for sharing.
Kim, you weave the practical and the magical in a perfect tapestry here with the images of children learning how to swim, respecting nature, loving family, savoring generations – all full of wonder and oh, yes that dolphin will indeed outdo the Easter Bunny in its playful, enchanting persona…not to mention its symbolic connection to Christ in antiquity. I love every line of this-
I would love to be a coastal adventure parent. Yes, to “spend quality time together away from screens!”
Do dolphins deliver cinnamon rolls? I’m still on a quest! Love the sharing of videos to Nana and Poppy, and cherish time with children away from the screen. Coastal Adventure Parents rock!