Gayle lives in Taneytown, MD (just south of Gettysburg, PA) with two useless small dogs, three cats and a really lucky husband. She has three adult children and a much-loved toddler granddaughter, Maya. (She cannot wait to disrupt the very careful upbringing enforced by Maya’s parents.) Gayle Covid-retired in the summer of 2020 after 27 lucky years of teaching middle school English, then un-retired in 2021 as an adjunct practicum supervisor for McDaniel College. She oversees 20-25 future teachers each semester as they prepare for student teaching. On a day-to-day basis, she drives from school to school, listens to audiobooks, then checks in with her practicum students and their mentors. (Basically, she reads and talks–her two favorite activities. She may never re-retire.)
Inspiration
Friends– I recently came upon This Poem is a Nest written by Irene Latham. Based on the concept of found poetry, Latham begins with four seasonal poems, then recycles bits of those poems throughout her wonderful collection. I highly recommend it.
Latham instructs the reader/poet in the “nestling” process in her book. Her only rule is that the words must appear in the same order as found in the original text. I have provided links to examples from her book that use words from her Spring “Nest”.
A video of Latham discussing her book and reading examples can be found at: This Poem is a Nest by Irene Latham – featuring Three 3-word Nestlings: https://youtu.be/xoAHL4t51a0
The Nest (by Irene Latham)
I. Spring
This poem has twigs in it, and little bits of feather-fuff.
It’s got wings and birdsong stitched together with ribbons of hope.
Safe in its crook, it’s a cradle that sways across day and dark.
Whatever the weather, leafy choir rustles a lullaby.
By miracle or fate, the fragile eggs stay snug in their cup—
blue gemstones precious as any long-buried pirate’s plunder.
Soon there are peep-peep-peeps and beaks that hinge open-shut-open.
The happy nest overflows with flap-flapping and endless feast.
Nestlings become fledglings. They share first falls and fluttery flights.
Latham’s Nestlings from Spring.
Process
Go to https://irenelatham.com/nest.html for more information, including her instructions and a series of poems from which you may choose to source your nestling: It’s time for you to find a poem!.: You may choose any poem to write from–your own, or one by any favorite poet. Provide the poem or a link to the poem for reader reference.
The basic process (my summary of Latham’s more explicit instructions)
- Choose your source poem (the “nest”)
- Begin your search
- Work from one word near the top
- Choose a subject and search for appropriate words
- Make a list of possible words
- Pare the list down to its essentials
- Write your own ”nestling”.
Gayle’s Nestling
Gayle’s Nest: from If You Want to Know My Heart, Come Inside My Studio by Irene LathamIt’s time for you to find a poem! (scroll down a few…)
Things I Would Hold Close If Only I Could
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
I’m a day late, too! I used the poem “From Everything Broken” in the collection Where Hope Comes From by Nikita Gill.
Exquisite
By Mo Daley 8/21/23
Beautiful wreckage
Pretty damage
Ruin of courage
Beautiful new odd
This is exquisite
Mo, I just came back to look at this because Irene linked to it today for Poetry Friday. I love the juxtaposition of beautiful, pretty and courage vs. wreckage, damage and ruin. Exquisite, indeed.
I’m a day late here, but couldn’t resist trying to write a nestling poem. I used ‘Blue Iris’ by Mary Oliver –
On Writing Poetry
pausing
breaking open
longing
waiting
releasing
what’s that you’re doing?
whispering as the wind
______________________
Blue Iris by Mary Oliver
Now that I’m free to be myself, who am I?
Can’t fly; can’t run, and see how slowly I walk.
Well, I think, I can read books.
“What’s that you’re doing?”
the green-headed fly shouts as it buzzes past.
I close the book.
Well, I can write down words, like these, softly.
“What’s that you’re doing?” whispers the wind, pausing
in a heap just outside the window.
Give me a little time, I say back to its staring, silver face.
It doesn’t happen all of a sudden, you know.
“Doesn’t it?” says the wind, and breaks open, releasing
distillation of blue iris.
And my heart panics not to be, as I long to be,
the empty, waiting, pure, speechless receptacle.
“what’s that you’re doing?
whispering as the wind”
Maureen, that really is what writing poetry is all about…
Oh, I like this, and Gayle’s comment. Beautiful. I’m glad you came back to share it. I like all the -ing words, especially “breaking open”
Gayle, thank you for bringing Nestlings to this space! I love your smoke-y poem, and wow, some real beauties in the comments. What a joyful morning I’ve had reading all these beautiful words. You are all poets! Thanks for all you give the world!
Gayle, thank you for the challenge, and a challenge it was! I’m not quite sure I got this right, but I gave it a shot.
brownness
darkness
breaking
shadows
something
lurks
something
in the rhythm
brown girl
you have queenliness
you
laugh at Fate!
To a Dark GirlGwendolyn Bennett
1902 – 1981
I love you for your brownness,
And the rounded darkness of your breast,
I love you for the breaking sadness in your voice
And shadows where your wayward eyelids rest.
Something of old forgotten queens
Lurks in the lithe abandon of your walk
And something of the shackled slave
Sobs in the rhythm of your talk.
Oh, little brown girl, born for sorrow’s mate,
Keep all you have of queenliness,
Forgetting that you once were slave,
And let your full lips laugh at Fate!
(One Last Word by Nikki Grimes)
Donnetta, it looks to me like you got it just right. Love those one word lines, which gives one pause and time to think about each one. “brown girl / you have queenliness” Beautiful!
Donnetta, the single word iines hold their own command, “breaking/ shadows”. Your poem is simple yet has many messages. Well done for creating it and thanks for sharing the original poem by Gwendolyn Bennet.
I am struck by the lines “breaking/shadows”. This is a gorgeous nestling poem.
Donnetta, this is perfection! The last stanza is so strong, so powerful as your brown girl laughs at fate. Thank you!
Gayle,
Thank you for your prompt. I love the shape of your poem and the alliteration.
I took my poem from Mary Oliver’s poem “Fall Song.”
Summer’s End
Everywhere
crumbling
shadows
of summer
Underfoot
roots
seeds
water
Longing
to stay
Tammi, I know how that end of summer is exactly like that “crumbling / shadows / of summer” And, yes, to “Longing / to stay”
I chose Mary Oliver, too! I am smitten with your second stanza…these really are the ‘feels’ underfoot of fall – roots, seeds, water.
Tammi–this is beautiful and sad–the dissolution of summer feels just like this. “Long sigh”
Thanks for the invitation today, Gayle. I like the shape your poem took. I found a poem called “what woman” by Deborah Digges in a book titles American Wildflowers edited by Susan Barba.
Mother
Like home:
the bitter sadness
and fistfuls
of light.
Rachelle,
I love the contrast between sadness and light in your poem. It really captures the complex nature of humans.
Rachelle, sorry
Wow, this poem really hit home for me today. Going home when you live far away can truly be very bitter sweet but also full of light. Nicely done. Thank you for sharing.
Rachelle, I love the phrase “fistfuls / of light.” So good!
Rachelle,
Wow! This really packs a punch! The “bitter sadness” and “fistfuls of light” just hit the heart!
fistfuls / of light. Love!
Oh my – “fistfuls/of light” – such few words, Rachelle, and yet an evocative glimpse of a challenging relationship. The title adds such clarity.
Rachelle–you capture the joys and difficulties of our relationship with our mothers–and our homes. your word choice is succinct and perfect!
Hi Gayle,
Thank you for opening my eyes to the found poetry style of nesting.
exist in solitude
peace of mind
and my soul
yearning 2
receive respect
young heart
can be
inside of me
2 learn twice
accept simplicity
Found in 2Pac’s “In the Depth Of Solitude”
DeAnna— I find myself returning to the final two lines —“ 2 learn twice/ accept simplicity”. There is such a feeling of peace there. Beautiful poem!
DeAnna, there is so much wisdom in your poem. I so wish to believe that “young heart / can be / inside of me.” I like the final line too–“accept simplicity” would help many of us. Thank you for this poem today!
DeAnna, great choice and good message. I love that you chose 2Pac’s work for your poem.
DeAnna,
I love the sense of calm you have evoked through these lines “exist in solitude/peace of mind/and my soul”.
DeAnna,
Your first and last lines speak to me: “exist in solitude” and “accept simplicity.” Sucg important messages! Nicely borrowed!
from “To a Friend Whose Work Has Come to Nothing” by William Butler Yeats
The Truth Will Out
truth
secret
defeat
brazen
honor
proved
lies
shamed
in his own
eyes
bred
harder
triumph
laughing
fingers
play
amid
secret
things
most difficult
Cara,
The image of “fingers play amid secret things” is ever changing in my mind. I first went to fingers turning the pages of someone else’s diary then to a cat burglar foundry their latest prize. Thank you for sharing today.
Cara-“laughing/fingers/play/amid/secret/things/most difficult”—is this a happy ending to the tale? I love the ambiguity as it follows a condemnation. Who is the winner here?
The tone is so serious and the line breaks build the suspense. Thanks for sharing, and I hadn’t read the original poem before so thanks for introducing that to me too!
Cara,
I am also intrigued by these lines “fingers/play/amid/secret things”. I wonder what else the liar is hiding?
wow! I am so intrigued about how this “nesting” method brings our such beautiful poetry. I love that the secrets are played among laughing fingers.
I love the way these one word lines are in a broken pattern…this is the way lies work, moving, always moving.
Hi Gayle,
I am a fan of Found Poetry so the nestling is now being saved as another favorite! Thank you for the mentoring from Irene Latham. Your poem brings a peaceful calm as I sit looking out the window while Los Angeles is drenched by Hurricane Hilary.
I wrote my nestling from a poem I wrote in October 2020 for Open Write.
What I Want for America
Crave
justice
Pursue
protection
Live
with
Love
©Stacey L. Joy, August 20, 2023
Stacey, how perfectly you communicate the mighty things you want (and I want, we all should want) in every single word! Love how you went back and mined your own work. This poem is a testimony for conciseness. The spareness is powerful, impactful. And if only, if only…what a different America it would be.
Stacey— oh, yes. There is nothing more to be said. Thank you for this…
And stay safe in the storm!!
Stacey,
Yes! Live with Love! I love the positive message and hopefulness of your poem.
Stacey, you’ve been on my mind with our other west coast friends today with all of the rain and flooding. Your last word here is the absolute be all/end all answer to our need in this country. Love brings the selflessness that we need to bridge our gaps.
YES! I’m with you for all of this, Stacey! Every line! (And I’m sending good luck and good vibes for you and your family and friends during the storm!)
I love that you went back to your own poem – and how this nestling cries out with simple clear truth: Love.
Hi Gayle, thank you for hosting today. May your reading and talking take you on new adventures of un-retirement! I’ve never heard of Irene Latham nor the Nestling form. It took be a bit, but I think I got it. Such beauty in your poem today. I love the words “pulsing” and “whispers”. Stillness is something I long for and in the midst of stillness, I can appreciate the silence of nature’s beauty. Here’s my nestling. I took the line “Reminding us to try once more” from “How to Rise” by Irene Latham.
Reminding us to try once more…
Because it won’t always work out the first time.
That song with the riffs and runs you can’t copy,
but you now realize that it’s your heart and soul that rises your voice.
That job you’re unqualified for,
but somehow your name was mentioned in a room floors above you.
That meal that was ruined for not following directions,
but next time,
you’ll put your love in it
while using your newfound voice
with heart and soul
FROM the money you earned from that unexpected promotion.
How to rise? Try once more!
Jessica— a poem full of such sage advice! Next time. Try once more. Because it won’t always work out the first time. Your students are so lucky to have someone with your philosophy!!
Jessica, yes, yes, yes! I loved these lines because it speaks to favor and mercy that often come completely unexpected!
And the ending is the best advice ever!
🫶🏽
I’m inspired and empowered! Thank you!
I remember
undress[ing]
our murmur[ing]
hearts
and beautiful
scars
[our] sighs a
swirl of voice
and vow
held whi-
spers inside
one complicated
and precious
and lovely
sigh
______________________________________
Thank you Gayle for this nestling prompt! And thank you folks – poets who came before me (both literally and figuratively, lol); I used a couple of your words to compose my offering today: a nestling of a nestling of a nestling of sorts, a bit Inception-like.
Scott— a wonderful, small love poem! “One complicated and lovely sigh”—it made ME sigh! Thank you!
Scott, I am so interested in the brackets and hyphen choices as I am doing my own meaning-making interpreting. That ‘whi-‘ works as why and part of whispers so lovely.
Another brilliant piece, Scott! These lines sound and feel like love!
Such a romantic and beautiful poem. I picture an older couple full of love ready to embrace.
Ooh, Inception poems…brilliant! Particularly love the bracketed -ing words.
Gayle,
Thank you for hosting and introducing us to nesting poems. I’m now enamored by this form and hope I understood it correctly. I love the look of your poem as well as the lovely images and brilliant line divisions. I wish we could make those things happen in this space. Your poem is breezy in the way it sits on the page.
weather report 2023: children of climate change
children of a dying planet ask the
point in planning for futures past.
children of burning forests sign their
names to legal documents demanding a
chance to live, to find happiness in this
imperfect present tense.
children of earth listen to her murmur, a
lamentation of willows weeping, frogs croaking, our house burning.
children of climate change walk among us—they are those apparitions of faces in the crowd, petals on a wet black bough.
Question: Whose heart burns for our perishing planet?
—Glenda Funk
August 20, 2023
Inspired by: “reading comprehension 23: children of minidoka” by W. Todd Kaneko in This is How the Bones Sing
Words: children, murmur, house
allusion: “In a Station of the Metro” by Ezra Pound
Glenda, wow, your poem is honest and frightening in its truth. The line “children of climate change walk among us” is riveting. How can we expect them to plan a future when our forests are burning and when willows weep? Absolutely love Pound’s poem and I think this works well in the poem due to its vivid imagery. Your final question is one that we all need to be asking ourselves. Incredible, stunning poem full of “sound and fury”.
Glenda— whew! You have captured what is going on in our world so perfectly, and with such honesty. This line really hit me— “lamentation of willows weeping, frogs croaking, our house burning”. We keep talking and signing— what have we done to change our world?
Lovely and haunting. That paradox of futures past is compelling and threaded artfully. The italics signal a special notice and ask for recognition.
Glenda, the earth and skies need our attention more now than ever. The rivers and trees and the waters all can sustain us if we stop long enough to listen to their concerns. I fear the loss of the pollinators and the poisoning of fishes. I hear these lines clearly.
Glenda, I need to read W.Todd Kaneko’s original piece – I have no doubt this poem about the ‘children of minidoka’ speaks to the horrors we inflicted upon the next generation. Your poem becomes a perfect nestling, contemplating the horrors we are inflicting through climate change. I love your phrase “imperfect present tense” and the imagery of this ‘murmur’ – “lamentation of willows weeping, frogs croaking, our house burning”. Gorgeous poem.
Thank you, Gayle, for introducing me to a nestling poem. I watched the video about Irene Latham’s book and read through the poems in the PDF you attached. In your poem, the alliteration was the first thing that attracted my attention. To me, it creates urgency as if you rush to name the things you want to hold close without forgetting something. Beautiful!
My nestling poems come from Elizabeth Bishops and two evenings (the first part of it):
a trip
one way
Time
journeys
overlapping circles
built this way
To stare inside
a recollection
Here is Bishop’s poem:
Two Mornings and Two Evenings
by Elizabeth Bishop
I make a trip to each clock in the apartment:
Some hands point histrionically one way
And some point others, from the ignorant faces.
Time is an Etoile; the hours diverge
So much that days are journeys round the suburbs,
Circles surrounding stars, overlapping circles.
The short, half-tone scale of winter weathers
Is a spread pigeon’s wing.
Winter lives under a pigeon’s wing, a dead wing with damp feathers.
Look down into the courtyard. All the houses
Are built that way, with ornamental urns
Set on the mansard roof-tops where the pigeons
Take their walks. It is like introspection
To stare inside, or retrospection,
A star inside a rectangle, a recollection
Leilya, your nestled, ‘found’ poem has the movement it talks about. There’s so much to retrieve from it. Thank you for sharing the original poem.
Leila— I have reread this many times already, and the meaning shifts each time. The close—to stare inside a recollection— what a close to that one way trip we are all taking…
Leilya,
Your poem is amazing. Love Bishop. Love the look of your poem. The way the lines stack like overlapping time is genius.
Leilya, I love how you’ve formatted this poem. The overlapping circles adds to the reflective message. I am especially moved by “To stare inside/a recollection”. Fantastic poem!
Leilya,
I really enjoyed your nestling poem. My favorite part is “overlapping circle to stare inside a recollection.” Thank you for sharing today
Leilya, this is really fun to see Bishop’s poem and yours right by each other. Your poem looks like it’s taking a journey. I love the depth of “To stare inside / a recollection”
The overlapping circles and staring into the recollection makes me think of a book I’m reading for the next book club – Before the Coffee Gets Cold. Time journey – wow! Such a perfect poem for the book and a perfect poem for the day.
I thought about the book too, Kim! I am on the final story. Time travel is such a mystery. Thank you 🥰
From someone not so well endowed, I had to have some fun. Here’s the link to my nesting poem: homage to my hips by Lucille Clifton | Poetry Foundation. I always enjoy finding poems and piggy backing off a mentor’s poem. Thanks for your fun prompt and hosting today, Gayle.
Homage to Lucille Who’s Mighty Magical
these hips are big
free
don’t like to be held back
like bodacious
breasts
known to swallow men whole
like mighty hips
magic hips
known
to put a spell on a man
and spin
Barb Edler
20 August 2023
Your poem is “mighty magical” too, Barb! I love the nestling poem you found from Lucile Clifton’s “homage to my hips.” You’ve created an image of strong woman, and i don’t think it’s just her hips that make her “free,” and are able “to put a spell on a man.” A wonderful “spin” on the original poem!
Barb— I have always loved your Lucille Clifton nest poem! This line in yours made me laugh— the breasts known to swallow men whole!! Love the sass and rasa in this!!
Barb,
I love this and Clifton’s poem. I’m all for writing about body parts. I’m so glad we don’t have to cage our hips the way I must entrap my big boobs! So many fabulous images here: spin, spell, swallow. Love the alliteration throughout. Your poem today is so much fun. I can’t stop smiling!
Oooh, Barb! Just reading this feels very freeing! I’m admitting to laughing right in the middle of this – the imagery is everything.
Thanks Barb for the introduction to Lucille Clifton, your poem also is a liberating, thank you.
I love this Barb! Such great imagery and I feel that our hips should be “free”. Free to sway, dance, and accidentally knock over things. I cackled at the line
“bodacious
breasts
known to swallow men whole”.
It reminded me of “Vera” (played by Della Reese) from Harlem Nights. Thank you for sharing!
Oh, wow, Barb, That is a bodacious poem! I love the mighty and magic descriptors, and those breasts swallowing men whole. Priceless. I love your title.
mighty magical, indeed! May we all spin!
I love this poem of Lucille Clifton’s! And your poem is awesome – there is a ‘swinging’ to the length of the lines, moving out and in, which is a perfect echo of a body sway, I think.
Gayle, thanks for introducing me to this activity and to Irene Latham’s poems.I took some words from her “birthday poem”.
Beach Life
sand, sea and seashells
surround us
beautiful combo
like an island
ocean churns
around us
wishes delivered
breeze unending
blow surprises to
celebrate life
and nature
a true breath
of fresh breeze
on a very special
birthday!
Juliette—I love the joy held out in “a true breath of fresh breeze”. Perfect for any birthday!!
Juliette, I think I like your nestling poem even more thank the original because it so clearly describes a perfect “special birthday.” Thank you for finding your poem and sharing it with us today!
Juliette, I believe I’ve only gone to the beach twice in my life. Once when I was a toddler (of course I don’t remember) and in 2019 when I went to Puerto Rico. Your alliteration of “sand, sea, and seashells
surround us…” This remided me of a safe space, enveloped in the calm and beauty of the beach. A place where water and land meet to play. Thank you for sharing!
Juliette, I love all of the alliteration you’ve used throughout your poem: “sand, sea and seashells / surround us” and “breeze” and “blow” and “breath.” Thanks for this!
Thank you, Gayle. This is harder than it looks at first. I used Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on Snowy evening.” Anything to create a sense of cool in this heat.
Know
His
Will
Watch
It
Near
And
Of
His
Ask
Only
Easy
Lovely
Promises
And
Go.
It does take some serious thought, doesn’t it? But what you did with Frost’s poem is amazing! There is a spirituality to your words, a comfort. “Easy/lovely/ promises”…and then “And/Go. It feels like prayers answered…
Katrina,
I am very familiar with this poem, but only because it is on the website readworks.org and I was using it to get my students to see beyond the words printed. The style makes me stop at each word and take in what is truly being said. And the last two words “And Go” completes the sentence. Its like the command was given, now go! Thank you for sharing.
Ah, that ending! Love! You might also enjoy writing nonets, which either start or end with a one-syllable word. “Go” has so much power.
Hi All,
I have been slow to respond. Sorry. Recovering from total knee replacement. Healing well and still writing.
I didn’t quite understand how to do the prompt so this is what came from nesting some of famous Robert Frost.
Two roads
travelled
far and long
bent
equally
grassy
no step
no wear
kept
passing
worn
and back
a sigh
ages ago
two made one
This is beautiful! That last bit— “ a sigh/ages ago/ two made one”—carries years of love inside it. Thank you.
Susan, I see a direct correlation with your poem and your current situation. I feel that sigh. Clever word choice to show the importance of knees and traveling.
Susan, welcome! I hope the knee replacement recovery goes well. Like Barb, I feel like this is a poem for you and your knees.
Gayle, I am going to nest my poem with yours. (That phrase feels quite intimate — hope it’s okay.)
Things I Would Hold Close If Only I Could
—Sarah’s v’s to Gayle’s s’s
voice
village
a very
un-
veiling
vow
violet
ver-
dad
voila
One can never get too close in poetry!! 💓
…and—voila!
What a wonderful tribute to Gayle’s poems. The v’s in your poem are vonderful! Love the end with “voila”. Very clever!
Sarah,
I love all the /v/ sounds here and see the lines and angles of the Vs lying in close proximity to one another. I adore the idea of poems nesting together and the intimacy in that image. It’s simultaneously comforting and sexual, although that’s clearly not in your poem but simply where my mind travels.
Sarah,
My good friend taught me to live a good use of alliteration and you have done a wonderful job with all the V words. Thank you for sharing today.
Sarah, so cute–two small nests nestling together. Love your alliteration. “a very un-veiling vow” is very clever.
Poetry is meant to be that intimate…and shared in this way. Lovely!
How fun! I love Ltham’s book. Reading it fills me with awe. And, it’s cool how your poem is “concrete” in that it looks like smoke rising.
I took some words from her poem, ‘This Poem is Green.”
Like a hillside
on a frosty March morning,
something new to giants
holds the sky.
See?
it’s already blue
Linda, I love the unexpected and surprising line something new to giants –
it keeps me wondering about what it is and brings the imagery of a bunch of giants standing there scratching their heads over this newness.
Linda,
Thank you for this visit to March. I am holding onto this phrase “something new to giants” and wondering how to help giants consider something from a new perspective.
Peace,
Sarah
“Something new to giants holds the sky”— what a picture you have given us!! They’re looking up, aren’t they!!?
Linda, these lines made me stop and ponder: “something new to giants / holds the sky.” And then the ending is so hopeful: “see? / it’s already blue.” Thank you for sharing!
Linda, how fun your poem is. I am curious about that something new that’s holding the sky. What a lovely tribute to Irene’s nestlings.
Reading this poem put me under the giant sequoias looking through their giant size to the sky. So beauitiful. Thanks.
Linda, that ending! Magical. xo
Gayle, I want to hold that “pulsing silence” close too. Beautiful poem. I love your title, and I’m being inspired here by you, Irene, and Wendy with this fun prompt. I’m going to spend more time with it in the future, but for now, I tried one with a book of poems I’m reading today called It’s Not Magic by Jon Sands. I tried to format it like Sands does in “Decoded.” The image attached might do a better job of it.
Decoded White Fear
You / silence:
take / lose
your / the
emptiness / moon.
& danger– / Blood
undress / white
your / reached
skin / for the
reality. / gun.
provoked/ Black
final / reality.
Nestling poem after “Decoded” by Jon Sands
Denise—multiple reads; multiple takeaways! My first read gave me murder- then I read it again and took the racism. Your pairings are precise and chilling. And the format enhances it—the slide into reality…
Denise, your words sit next to one another uncomfortably separated by slashes. There is beauty in being able to read this in more than one way. The last two lines (provoked/Black; final/reality) stand strong read side by side or up and down. Having a different takeaway and layer to decipher with each different reading adds to its depth.
Oh, wow! That ending was unexpected…but very imaginable. Well done!
Denise, I’ve read this multiple times and top to bottom, bottom to top, vertically and zigzagged – it’s a poem to return to again and again, unlocking new perspectives each time. Wow! I like how you use the backslash here to visually prompt the thinking and possibilities.
Denise,
This was moved me as I verbalized the left, then the right and then across. Each left me with wonderings. Phrases offered new ways of seeing, poetic thinking indeed: “Blood white reached for the gun. Black reality” and “undress your skin reality”. I am holding onto these and doing my own meaning-making.
Peace,
Sarah
Denise, your poem is compelling and provocative. The formatting is especially interesting which helps to set off the striking words. I feel the power of silence and its finality. I was especially intrigued by “emptiness / moon.
& danger– / Blood
undress” Incredible poem! Well done!
Denise, what a poem! I read it first with slashes, and then the left side separately and the right separately. Then I stopped and gaped at these lines:
“undress
your
skin / for the
reality.”
So much pain is hidden behind these words, but somehow it makes a subtle nod at hope. Maybe people will be able to see beyond the skin and into the soul eventually. Thank you for such a gift today!
Denise – this is utterly haunting. The slashes add to the starkness of the language, as do the periods, for pausing and impact. It’s a superb embodiment of the title…it begs the decoding of that fear. Incredibly powerful!
Denise, this works on so many levels! Powerful. “emptiness / Moon” is a favorite upon this reading. xo
The pairings of these words! Wow. I like how you formatted the poem, in your attach picture – it is ‘pointed,’ as is your nestling. I have read and reread the poem and keep getting struck by different pairings; now I’m focused on ” your/the ” thinking that this could be a two word summary of all that is wrong in our world, when we get to thinking about ourselves as supreme. Excellent poem, Denise!
Gayle, I adore Irene Latham and was thrilled when you brought this form to us today. Your nestling is all the things I, too, would love to hold close – stillness, whispers, silence. There is something medicinal for the soul in all of these. Thank you for hosting us today!
I’m reading Ada Limon’s collection of books, and I chose Forgiveness from The Hurting Kind. If I were adding to your poem of the things I would hold close, it’s this poem by her.
Silent Water
dumb hearts
hurting each other
shadowy places
scars
bound to the blades
bound to outrun
Kim— I am finding that for each Nestling, I am gaining another poem from the original— I immediately go to find that, as well. Your phrasing is perfect—dumb hearts, hurting each other. So often, we hurt by ignorance, don’t we? And “bound to the blades”—oof!
Kim, your title “Silent Water” is fascinating. It makes me feel the quiet of broken relationships. I see “scars / bound to the blades”
Love how the last word is an uptick of hope that is without question. I too adore Irene’s poetry. Limon’s poem is a great well to draw from.
Kim,
I am reading this with different breaths and phrasing. When I read “scars/bound to the blades” I think of how the instrument of hurt holds the harm. Maybe that can be liberating or healing for the harmed.
Thank you,
Sarah
Kim, I am deeply moved by your “nestling” poem. I also enjoy Ada Limon’s poetry. I love how you open this poem with “dumb hearts/hurting each other” but the “bound to blades” line is riveting. Yikes, this is scary, but so compelling!
Kim, the first two lines strike the chord for me: “dumb hearts / hurting each other.” Why do people who love each other also hurt each other so much? Is it because love is forgiving or are they used to be forgiven by the loved ones? In any case, “scars” are left to remind about these dumb actions or words. Thank you for “finding” this poem today.
Ah, Kim. I am rereading The Hurting Kind, lingering in its lines; I have now turned to p. 87-88 to read “Forgiveness” again. It is a profound poem in imagery and topic. It is in itself a blade that cuts deep… your word-gathering and paring are absolutely magnificent here. In all the pain and scars from the dumb hearts that hurt each other, in the scars and being bound to the blades, there is yet hope and overcoming in the outrunning. This is how I hold it.
Kim, wow! You found such powerful words for your nestling! I was captivated by the “dumb hearts” and even more taken by…
I think this form is going to be one you enjoy over and over! I love it.
Kim, you cannot do better than Ada Limon! This kicks me right in my “dumb heart.” Thank you!
Love love love Ada Limon – and your nestling. The title – “Silent Water” is so mournful.
Gayle, this morning’s prompt was a treasure trove!
There is nothing I love more than when a poem surprises me; I dug so much out of my “Marty” poem from yesterday to create these nestlings about my summer and breathed lots of life from death (Ok, maybe a little death, too). Thank you so much for such a fun and challenging experience!
Wendy— so many wonderful nestlings from one poem! I must say that “Death” sort of took my breath away. It encapsulates it all, especially “Hands lose grip”… powerful!
Wendy, I love what you’ve done here with the topics and the smaller poems.
I love them all, but Elegy to Home simply bathes my heart in a spirit of belonging.
I can see how students would find this enjoyable, creating finding topics and writing nestlings about them on a variation of themes.
Wendy, you inspired me to dig deeper with this nestling prompt. I love what you did here using your own poem as the nest. It’s amazing what you did get out of your Marty poem. Puppy Love–I never would have guessed. That Elegy to Home is poignant and wonderful “years back”
How beautiful…I do love a good chart. Such neat nestlings! It’s like you’ve been planning this for weeks.
Wendy, I love the way you’ve taken this prompt and nestled several poems into a larger nestling, much like birds gathering twigs and bits for their own nests. Puppy Love really spoke to me (our rescue is still new to us and my sister rescued a 2yo recently too).
Whoa, Wendy! You’re a veritable fount of found poems! I love every one of these. I’m struck by the power of verbs in each. I believe I love Elegy to Home the most for its connection to morning, Heaven, “life was small” and a southward home; it is so akin to my own sense of “home” long ago, in childhood. But again – I love every one and have read them all several times for the sheer joy of the language.
Paws like the morning. Love!
Gayle, the movement and shape of your poem tells its own story. I’m reminded of smoke rising from camp fires and late summer evenings under the stars. This invitation to “nest” within another’s words is a perfect day starter. My nestling comes from the Poetry Foundations poem of the day, Have You Prayed? By Li-Young Lee.
Wind Traveler
Wind asks.
Fires hear:
remember love?
Grief is trimmed
between earth’s breath
speaking
through me.
Jennifer—when I finished reading this, I sighed deeply. I felt the weight and the love. “Grief is trimmed…”
Jennifer, the elements speaking to each other here is spiritual, indeed. The asking, the answering, the breath of earth containing answers asked of the universe. It’s divine.
Jennifer, what a beauty you found nesting in Lee’s poem. This is a perfect day starter, isn’t it? I love the Wind Traveler’s question, “remember love?” and then the ending “speaking / through me.”
Jennifer,
I love the equity of this title. We can all be “wind travelers.” And this idea of “grief is trimmed” in that in betweenness — space for healing there.
Thank you,
Sarah
Jennifer,
Every time you share, I wonder can you get any more profound and you always do! This is tender and loving to my soul. I have recently been missing my mom and cousin and your poem leaves me in peace.
Jennifer, this is such a tight and beautiful nestling – master craftsmanship! The elements remembering love; the connectivity of grief to the earth to, and through, the speaker…it calls for deep reflection. So very lovely.
Hi, Gayle – love your spirited intro as well as this invitation to nestlings! Paring a thing down to its essence…is this not a definition of poetry itself? So much depends on feeling, sound, interpretation. Infinite possibilities. Your well-chosen words are a pure swirl of temporal longing, set off by that perfect title. It is a wistful yet restful breath of a poem. A pocket of peace in my morning!
My nestling today comes from Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day” – perhaps as I’m writing on the last day of summer vacation…
Shifting of the Blades
worldjaws
up
complicated eyes
thorough snap-away
prayerfall
down
the grass, the grass
soon precious
Fran, there’s something a bit ominous in the title and the writing taking place on this last day of summer vacation. It’s an abruptness that takes us from summer to not. The suddenness is felt and seen within the world jaws and snapping away with the yearning for what is behind us in the repetition of “the grass” and “soon precious.” You are masterful at giving us tightly crafted visuals within beautiful language. I’m not ready for the snapping – students return for us tomorrow too.
Fran, I just loved the feel of this and the portmanteaus that you created that provoked such stunning images. What an homage to Oliver’s poem. Love, love, love!
Fran— Jennifer said it so well that I am intimidated! From the title, to the world jaws, to the snap-away, to the soon precious. I can feel the school day marching toward you!!
And, Fran—going back to read he OLiver poem—masterful word-picking there!!
Fran, there is something spiritual about Mary’s words, now your own. I feel this moment of snapping back to the harsh reality when so immersed in the peace of the natural world – – the grass, the grass
soon precious
Oh, my heart for the time I would walk in the meadows and forest paths and just wander or sit like Emily or Mary, taking it all in and loving every precious second, knowing it’s all so fleeting. Your poem is a perfect choice for the end of summer and beginning of a new school year. I hope you have a wonderful first official day back tomorrow.
Oh, I love how you created new words from the found poem. I think I’ll have to try that next time. “worldjaws” and “prayerfall” are wonder-filled. I heard a bit of a jingle in the end there, reminiscent of “all fall down.” Here’s to a great fall, where you will barely miss the passing grass.
Ooh, love the multiple meanings of “blades” The grass, the grass…lovely!