Welcome to the October Open Write!
Alex: Alexandra Garcia is from Jackson, Michigan and is a sophomore at Aquinas College in Grand Rapids. She is studying Elementary Education with a minor in Theater. She enjoys reading, hiking, traveling, and spending time with her Yorkie, Audrey.
Alicia: Alicia Is from Shelby, Michigan a small town located in Oceana County but currently attends Aquinas College in Grand Rapids Michigan. She is a freshman majoring in Elementary Education. When she’s not studying or doing homework her hobbies are listening to music, arts & Crafts, card games, and playing animal crossing. She also enjoys hanging out with friends, family, and her dog, Navi. She hopes to become a second-grade teacher and travel to new places.
Gladys: Gladys Rosas is from Shelby, Michigan and attends Aquinas College as a freshman. She is majoring in Elementary Education but sincerely enjoys creative arts. She particularly loves sketching and listening to music and has discovered a newfound joy in crocheting. She also has a self-diagnosed addiction to watching scary YouTube videos.
Ruth: Ruth Rabaut is from Grand Rapids, Michigan and attends Aquinas College as a Sophomore. She is majoring in Early Childhood education and hopes to one day teach kindergarten! She enjoys spending time with her family and friends, hiking, working out, going for car rides and listening to music and traveling.
Inspiration
We all go through change; sometimes we like it and sometimes we don’t. It evokes different emotions such as excitement, sadness, or fear, but when things change we can’t always control it and we must learn to live with the changes. We were inspired by the changing seasons and thought it would be perfect for the change of colors in the leaves. For some of us, this fall semester has been a huge change in our lives. Two of us are freshmen and two are sophomores at Aquinas College. We are discovering ourselves and change is happening constantly. We hope you can reflect on whatever changes are happening in your life and learn to grow comfortable with them.
Process
- An ode is “a lyric poem in the form of an address to a particular subject, often elevated in style or manner and written in varied or irregular meter” (Oxford Dictionary).
- Here are some examples of a few famous Ode poems
- “Ode to a Nightingale” by John Keats
- “Ode to Autumn” by John Keats
- “Ode on Solitude” by Alexander Pope
- “Ode to Sadness” by Pablo Neruda
- Your “Ode to Change Poem” should pay tribute or tackle a subject of change You might start with: With change comes…
- It should be more than one stanza
- When thinking about writing an “Ode to” poem, it may be helpful to first think of some images of nature that resonate with you
- I also tried to include aspects of change in my life that I felt could be tied into my work
- My poem ended up rhyming in places, but yours does not necessarily need to be rhythmic
- It may be helpful to think about what you want to convey through your words by the end, instead of focusing on each line separately
Poems
Alicia:
Ode to change
Oh Change the face that stares at me
The piercing gaze of difference looks at me
I can’t look, I won’t see
The alluring dark abyss draws me in
I trip and stumble
Yet I feel no difference
With Change comes its daunting aura
They tell me it’s there
I look, stare, and feel the cool breeze
A change in season I see
But deep down
I don’t feel it in me
Oh how to feel something that has no presence
No proof
Change in season is visible
But change in thee
It is something I cannot see
Gladys:
Fragments of What Once Was
Change, you whisper promises of growth
Buzzing with excitement, something new
A cradle for dreams
Overflowing are the possibilities
Thank you for the hope that you bring
And for feeding the young autumn breeze…
But now your kindness is different
You feign care when you want control
Tearing down the walls you once helped build
You demolished familiarity
While I rested naive with comfort
Change, let me linger one last time
In the arms, the memories, of yesterday
You promised me growth
But I only see endings
The slamming of doors as you take what was mine
door after slamming door
Further from the home I once knew
Give me relief, let me fall to my knees
So I may rest in the rubble of my vanishing world
Or, if you must insist on breaking through
Then please change my heart, teach me not care-
Or let me trade my uncertain future
For the fragmented memories of what once was
Ruth:
Ode to Change
Change is what makes us turn the page
ready or not, here it it comes
like a due date that won’t budge
Something that we know is coming
But we refuse to start because we always think we have “more time”
I’ve failed this
I have turned my face away from you
I can’t look you in the eyes
I want to be ready for the leaves to turn, but i’m not
I wish for the days to be longer the moments to not end
But you fail me every time
I don’t want to keep feeling this way
I want to embrace change and welcome you everyday
Maybe we could be friends someday
We would understand each other
Looking back on this time and laugh
But not soon
Not now
Maybe someday
Alex:
Ode to Change
Seasons of life, seasons of love
Autumn winds transport the mind to familiar places
The rivers once gleaming fill with frayed leaves
Animals once stirring begin to reside.
One door closes, another one opens
We look at the revolving door of change with anticipation
While some things seem to remain eternal,
Many pieces of life dissipate
As the frozen branches begin to thaw,
And water trickles down the stems,
Flowers soon begin to bloom as the cycle of change strikes again.
Nature is not the only element that sustains change
People, places, friendships, and foes
All have parts that seem to rearrange.
Emotions run high, eyes get dry,
The place that one sees themselves feels so far away.
An awareness begins to travel from ourselves
As we become aware that maybe it is ourselves that have changed
And not all of the stops along the way.
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. For suggestions on how to comment with care. See this graphic.
Ode to Change
Every year,
the 7th grade class photo from the fall
is delivered to students in the spring:
Their younger selves peering out of
a clear plastic window in a white envelope:
their faces were rounder
their smiles sincere,
tightened with metal braces.
I looked like that?
they wonder,
touching their thinned out faces
feeling their new height and haircuts
seeing their spacey, snarling, sarcastic selves
in place of that kid they were.
They turn their baby faces away to the desk,
crumple them in their bags,
but I hang them on my wall
in a place of honor.
Look how far you’ve come, I’ll say.
You are flowers
You are werewolves
You are tricksters
You are toddlers
You are tortured artists
You are in a chrysalis
You are not done yet.
Beautiful tribute to the students, Emily – they change so very much in less than a year. Some grow astonishingly taller in this span of time, at this age. I can recall one of my boys finding the changes fearsome: “I don’t want to grow up!” Your endings lines are a masterpiece – as is every child.
Oh, that seventh grade change is so real! You’ve captured it perfectly. I can only imagine how many crumpled photos made it home. Your last stanza is so touching. You really seem to know your students well.
Side note- my grandsons showed me their school pictures yesterday. One had a spit bubble on his lip and the other a big booger hanging out of his nose. They’ll be doing retakes!
That’s amazing!!! I hope they save the original!!
Emily– I love how you honor the younger selves your students were at the beginning of the year and then respect them as they continue to grow. The end of your poem really shows the belief you have in them to become something great one day. They are flowers about to bloom. Not done, but getting there. I particularly like the line “A clear plastic window in a white envelope.” The picture is no longer a mirror and is now like a window, giving them a glimpse into how they once were. I think this was a wonderful topic and I appreciate what you wrote!
Ode to Change
Without change there can be no growth; no progress.
But change, you can be hard to accept.
At times it feels like staring over;
a whole new learning curve.
Just when I am comfortable and muscle memory has just about set in,
you change, revamp, rework, reorder
what had been working just fine in humble opinion.
“Change is good!”, they say.
Tell that to my ache joints, my weak bladder, and my energy level.
Change, you have managed to transfigure my girlish figure.
I’m definitely growing – out, wide; not necessarily better.
Does it feel like I’m giving you hard time, Change?
Well, chalk it up to my ever-changing mood – constantly swinging to and fro.
Deep down, I know you can be for my good as well.
You have been in so many areas of and throughout my life.
And, I guess I have to the bad with the good…
something that will never change.
Donnetta, I appreciate that your poem offers different perspectives on change, and I see some contrast in my poem. I briefly praised change in my poem and then quickly flipped the narrative to describe my distaste for change. However, your poem does the opposite by expressing how uncomfortable or difficult change can be. You highlight the various ways change has affected you. With that, however, you end on an insightful note. You bring light on your acceptance of change and acknowledge the goodness that can come with it. I appreciate that and am glad you can see the positives in something as scary as change, even though it may carry unknowable negatives. I found your poem motivating, speaking from an individual mortified with the idea of change. Thank you, and great ode!
Donnetta, I was surprised by all the physical changes in stanza two, since your first stanza was so philosophical. But I’m so glad you went there! I think it’s do important to talk about how our bodies change as we age. And our moods, too! Thanks for being so real with us!
Okay, yup. Smiling and laughing the whole way through this one, while at the same time gritting my teeth at the truths! I remember the first time I realized my hips were growing outward (making room, my mother said). That’s when I realized my body is its own entity and I have no control over it! This is a loving poem, at its core. : )
Donnetta, honey, you hit the nail on the changing head! My favorite lines:
Well done, my friend! You are not alone. 🩷
Alex, Alicia, Glady & Ruth,
Thank you for hosting today. Your prompt got me thinking about days gone by and memories of how we used to carve pumpkins with our children and now that they are adults and almost adults, the pumpkins are simply late night snacks for the squirrels.
Ode to Pumpkins
Plucked from the Aldi bin
Not to buy for $4.99 would be a sin
Assortment of sizes and shapes
orange spheres sometimes mishappen
but not to be mistaken
reminds me of days gone by
of hay rides and corn mazes
of lazy fall days
of scooping pumpkin guts
seeds clinging to the pulp,
with a jagged carving knife
demonic faces traced to life.
candles glowing through evil eyes,
now they sit, uncarved, outside,
much less scary, no need to hide
No scarecrow stands to guard the night,
Squirrels feast in quiet delight.
Tammi— I resonate a lot with your poem because thinking of change often leaves me feeling a little empty, much like the faces of your pumpkins. It’s somber to think about the gifts that time naturally takes away, especially because you don’t realize those moments are precious until they are gone. Of course, there will always be new gifts to be given; however, it’s saddening to know that you’ll never get the old ones back. I’ve been trying to be more grateful for the blessings in my life so I can hold on to what I love a little more meaningfully. Thank you for the ode!
Hi Tammi. I’m finally getting to sit down after a day at the pumpkin patch. Great memories, right? My favorite part of your poem is the ending. It’s a little melancholy, but I love how you’ve turned your special memories into something so useful- for the squirrels, at least!
Tammi, I love the ode to pumpkins and the changes that this season and Halloween have had over the years for your family. I think sitting uncarved is a great way for pumpkins to be. Are the squirrels enjoying them?
Hi Tammi, thanks for this lovely memory- the seeds clinging and jagged knife and glowing faces made the memory tangible. I love how the final couplet is both funny and nostalgic.
Ode to Retirement
By Mo Daley 10/20/24
It’s official…I’m retired,
though a pension check has yet to arrive.
Perhaps unaccustomed to seeing me as sedentary,
well-meaning friends and family ask me daily,
“So, what do you DO all day?”
Well, let me fill you in—
I read, a lot.
I write, not as much as I should.
I clean and organize.
I run a household.
I travel, a lot.
I relax.
I babysit.
I walk, not as much as I should.
I drive.
I love.
I meet new friends.
I talk less and listen more.
I expand my horizons.
In short, I do whatever the hell I want to.
Any further questions?
Hello Mo thank you for responding, I enjoyed reading your post. I like how you outlined your daily routines and activities. When we think about retirement, we tend to think that most just sit around and don’t do much, but in this poem, you outlined just how much someone can do after retirement it’s all just a change of schedule.
I love this, Mo! This is year 30 for me, and I’m not ready to go yet for a bunch of reasons, the main reason, of course, is because I still love what I’m doing and who I work with and all that good stuff, but one of the “lesser” reasons is my fear that I just don’t know what I’ll do all day, lol. I just can’t imagine it. So, thank you for providing me with a list of options!
Mo,
As someone who is looking at this as an option in the next couple years, I think my favorite line was, of course, “I do whatever the hell I want to.” Having fire to me means the passion is alive, and not as passive as re-tired.
Bravo!
Mo,
Love the way you juxtaposed these serious lines, “I love./I meet new friends./I talk less and listen more.” with the blunt “In short, I do whatever the hell I want to.”
Happy Retirement!
Sounds divine! You’ve earned being able to do whatever the hell you want!
I love this, Mo, and its deeply honest and proud answer. You’ve done a lot, for many days, and creative people will always expand their horizons. I like the asides. Makes me look forward to retirement!
Mo!!! How did I miss that you retired or is it my menopausal memory misfiring? I am soooo excited for you! I hate when people ask what I’m doing when I’m off for summer. Why can’t people just worry about their own daily plans! 😂😂
Enjoy the best retirement ever! Almost my turn!
Edo Eg Chan
Ode to,
The jingle in my pocket,
And fronts,
Rocking the dockets.
Bygones of belly fat,
And the stunts,
That mock it.
Bring in seasons,
Of treason,
That create it,
Un pleasing.
Of dog’s breath,
Until their death,
so much,
Until nothings left.
Preach it coming,
Keeps us running,
Fear causes it,
To be stunning.
It’s everyday,
From what we say,
Always,
Watch us gray.
Children speak,
Strong become weak,
Mountains,
Flatten to peaks.
A Constant rearrange,
Yet,
We remain the same,
Enduring the strange.
For our,
Ode of Change.
– Boxer
Hello Clayton thank you for responding. When you said, “keeps us running” It made me think of how change can happen any time and it keeps us on our toes. Sometimes we anticipate it but other times it just happens and we kind of have to run and keep up with it.
Boxer,
I enjoyed how you balanced humor — “Of dog’s breath,/Until their death,/so much,/ Until nothings left” with the reminder “A Constant rearrange,/Yet,/We remain the same.”
Tammi
Watch us fray, indeed! The images in your penultimate stanza are so vivid and powerful. And the en that constant rearrange in the last stanza is a perfect descriptor of aging.
I liked the almost puzzle like way you put this Ode to Change together and how your title echoes the last stanza “a constant rearrange.” I love the rhythm and flow to this piece! Clever and wise.
Ode to Jennifer
from Alexander Pope
Nourished the sister, whose ache and waste
counted kin tantamount,
nourished to inhale witnessing,
in her soil.
Whose roots once rot, whose breasts cut,
Whose seeds rested for readiness,
Whose winds channeled a visitor,
in autumn’s flare.
Balm who can hold space
dry spells, rains, storms, still,
in kindred bedrock, stems,
reach some day.
Today let sisters comfort past;
Today heal with patient ears hurt;
Dig into shared soil, and let not love
go unsaid.
Hello Sarah thank you for taking the time to respond. Your poem is beautifully crafted and thought out. I like the last lines “dig into shared soil, and let not love go unsaid” it reminds us to cherish the people we love and make sure they know how loved they are.
Sarah, thanks so much for reminding us to “dig into shared soil, and let not love go unsaid.” How often do we hear folks mourning the fact that a dear one passed away before they “made up” with that person or expressed sorry for mistreating or misunderstanding.
Sarah,
I can feel the bond you have with your sisters in these words:
“Nourished, to inhale witnessing, balm, in kindred bedrock.” Beautiful poem.
Sarah, the images and sounds paint a powerful picture of Jennifer, each word is placed thoughtfully and carries weight. She sounds like a force of nature herself. Your last stanza keeps me thinking about the healing power of patient ears and shared soil. Thanks for this gem today.
Thank you young ladies for your energy and interest in education. The students you will teach in a few years will be fortunate to have you. I enjoyed reading all of your poems.
Thanks for giving me a chance to rework one from 2 years ago.
An Ode to Poetry
Poems often tell the truth.
A student can share the
horrors of their home life
or
the thrills of their
phenomenal family.
Students, sitting together,
using free verse
creating shared poems
and stories that can
uplift, ignite, and help them heal.
Young people hanging out
expressing their love or
interest in anime, cooking,
sports, music, and writing.
Or, expressing their
dislike for broccoli, math,
gender bias, and banned books.
Poetry matters so I encourage
writing among my students,
and require it for myself.
Hello Seana thank you for participating in our prompt. When you said “poems and stories can uplift, ignite and help them heal” it makes me think of the power writing and words hold. As a future teacher I hope to be able to share with students how much power they hold in their stories and words.
Seana,
I like how you cover the variety of options for the kids as poetry goes, but how it all starts with such drastic differences in terms of subject matter truths told. It is also good that you touched on requiring it of yourself. I think the kids get a feel for that, and believe us more if we practice what we preach.
Seanna,
Yes, I agree with “Poetry matters so I encourage/writing among my students,
and require it for myself.”
I love connecting with my students through poetry too!
The coolest thing about this IMHO : ) is how it is reflective of a teaching process that invites students to write poetry about what matters most to them in the moment. That students can write poems about anime or broccoli is so welcoming! In a workshop I gave about making zines, a young girl said she wanted to write about tomatoes and the adult with her poo-pooed the idea. I hated to go against the adult, but I said, “Heck yah! Write about how much you love tomatoes! That’s what zines are for!” More yes and less no with poetry, please and thank you!
Thank for this prompt as the seasons change, and in Maryland we find ourselves in a rather warm fall day – almost caught between the seasons. 🍁
The Wind Horse
With change comes the unsettling feeling;
I have been here before.
Breathing in this same air,
My fifty-three years around the sun.
The leaves swirl in rustling waves,
Each one a wish, a lung ta,
A wind horse, galloping off with my prayer
To the Heavens.
October is the golden month,
Rich hued, smelling of deep Earth,
Which has spent the summer in glory,
before settling back into comfort.
With change comes the in-between time,
Visits from loved ones long gone.
Their names on our lips, their hands on our hands,
As we move among the edge of connections.
Mona, I followed your lines toward the “in-between time” and loved the journey. The way the weather is loves “edge of connections,”
Peace,
Sarah
Hello Mona thank you for responding to our prompt. My favorite line is “October is the golden month” I have always loved seeing the different hues the leaves have. It is indeed a golden month.
Mona, as I read your poem, it resonated with me in a few places, but “the in-between time” and “visits from loved ones long gone” are especially acute today. Thank you for sharing!
Mona,
I love the turn your poem takes at the end from seasonal physical changes to the spiritual.
Beautiful last lines: “Their names on our lips, their hands on our hands,/As we move among the edge of connections.”
Ode to age
There is no way to avoid it
It follows you like a shadow
Waiting to grow up and to learn new things
“You’ll understand when you’re older” they would say
Now I am older
I still have so much to learn
But with this knowledge, I have learned
That aging is okay
Hello, Mara thank you for your response. Your poem is short but impactful. I like the line
I like the line “it follows you like a shadow”, because sometimes when a change happens its constantly on our mind and it seems to follow us until we get used to it.
Oh, Mara, the way you weave in the words of others in the dialogue — those quotation marks work like unwanted intrusions in our life. Ha. Love that.
Sarah
Mara, your poem brings back so many memories and also includes a fact of life! We do understand more as we age and one this is that we’ll never know everything. But, I do know that today you have written an evocative poem with the image of shadow following us. I thank you fo it.
Mara,
I agree. No matter one’s age there is “still so much to learn”! There is not avoiding it, so might as well embrace it.
Mara,
We would all be better off remembering this sage and short advice on aging!
YES!!! Thank you!
Alex, Alicia, Gladys, and Ruth, thank you so much for hosting today. Your prompt seems very timely with the change of the seasons, weather, and other changes brewing in the air. Your poems are thoughtful with rich imagery and resonating lines. I like Alicia’s question: “Oh how to feel something that has no presence,” Gladys’s personification of change: “you whisper promises of growth,” Ruth’s determination: “I want to embrace change and welcome you every day,” and Alex’s imagery: “And water trickles down the stems.” There are many more lines that I liked.
My poem today is inspired by your poems and by the poems of my colleagues and friends I read early this morning, Kim Johnson and Fran Haley.
Ode to the Winds of Change
It comes naturally, at times,
As leaves’ edges flare with sunshine,
Their gold a whispered promise of fall.
It comes unexpectedly,
As a strong northern wind,
Breaking the calm of Indian summer.
It comes cautiously,
As a baby’s first steps
Toward mother’s waiting arms.
It comes suddenly,
As heartbreak, after love and loss,
Painted in shades of pain and despair.
It arrives timely,
As the silver of gray hair,
Aching bones signaling autumn’s turn.
It comes rightfully,
As one experience leads to another,
Revealing the map to new paths.
It visits daily,
As one page turns, another begins,
A fresh chapter in life’s unfolding.
Change always comes,
As if the world cannot stay still,
Whether we want it or not.
Hello, Leilya. thank you for your beautiful take on our poems and prompt. I love that you got inspiration from other poets’ poems about change. Your poem embodies how change looks so different for everyone, and it’s constructed with so much thought.
I love the visuals that were provided with this poem. It told multiple stories that all related to one another in some way!
Leilya, I love all the ways you proclaim change and how it slides in and arrives. Timely, rightfully, daily, suddenly, cautiously, unexpectedly, naturally. These perspectives on change bring the reassurance of its certainty. I’m glad to have a fresh page tomorrow.
I really enjoy how this poem takes you through life, from the first steps as a baby to silver hair. ❤️
Such truth here today, Leilya (and always), in the “change always comes.” And yet sometimes doesn’t it feel like it cannot come soon enough at times? You capture the irony here of wishing or considering change as if we ever had a choice.
Peace,
Sarah
Leilya,
I am loving the pattern of how change comes, followed by the illustrations in each stanza. It was a real subtle thing for me, but the last stanza made me stop. Whether we want it or not….read different. Certainly there are times when I don’t want the world, other times I do, or maybe just the world without the people in it. I think it was change you were talking about, but I think there are some days where this stanza would change in my reading for sure…Just me being strange.
Leilya, what a beautiful change poem you have created here. I’m taking this sudden change stanza with me today:
It’s beautiful and true.
I’m now off to read Fran’s and Kim’s poems.
Frame of Reference
With only
16 days
until
the election,
I sit
disquieted
thinking
of all of his
signs that
litter the lawns
of my neighbors
until
I realize that
they are not
election signs
at all;
no,
those are
Halloween
decorations.
______________________________________________
Alex, Alicia, Gladys, and Ruth, thank you for your mentor poems and for today’s prompt, a space for us to contemplate (and celebrate or, at least, acknowledge) various changes in our lives! For my offering, I was thinking this past week as I was driving home from work, that holy sh–,there are a lot of his – he who shall not be named – signs dotting the lawns along my route to work, so I thought, oh, no worries, I’ll take a different way, lol. (I know that I only see a very thin view of things on my drive to work – and I also know that folks with Harris signs have suffered from vandalism – so a lot is “at play” with these election signs.) But then the idea struck me that these signs were just “in the spirit of October,” showcasing unimaginable terrors akin to skeletons, ghosts, and ghouls; you know, the stuff that haunts people’s nightmares, lol.
Hello, Scott thank you for your poem, it’s a fascinating take on our prompt. When we think of change, we normally think of it as something one person goes through, but you took a different route and connected it to a change that affects everyone.
Just like you, Scott, I worry about the upcoming election. I worry about the outcome and a reaction to the outcome in any case. I like how you “turned” the election propaganda signs into Halloween decorations.
Scott, I enjoyed reading your poem. It brought the humor that was needed during this time. I also thought this was a great way to pick a topic everyone can relate to.
It must be a Halloween decoration! Only you could come up with that! It certainly can’t be explained any other way.
Perfect, Scott. I’ve written four poems in the last few weeks regarding he who shall not be named. He’s taking way too much of my energy here of late.
Scott,
What an unexpected and welcome turn in the “realize.” And I read the “signs” as both physical and metaphorical here. The signs of our neighbors in their beliefs and values and practices as we inch toward a pivotal moment for our country yet again.
Peace,
Sarah
Scott– Thank you for writing this poem. I appreciate the sudden twist in perspective at the end of your poem and the humor you included afterward. With the election drawing near, it feels impossible to avoid seeing those political signs wherever you go. They’re like the serial killer in a movie that appears whenever, wherever, and when you least expect it. Very scary indeed… Thank you for your response!
Brilliant, Scott, simply brilliant!
👻
Hi Alicia, Gladys, Ruth and Alexa. What a fun prompt. It made me think of my high school days at Detroit Skating Rink. I even found a photo of the rink where I used to skate. Too cool. That could be a picture of me! Ha!
Come on, Change!
Come on, Change, I used to say
I’m truly bored today.
What a shame,
Nothing new; the sky’s still blue
Ah! What’s that cool guy’s name?
Will I no longer be bored, once I scored
A date with that handsome guy?
But why didn’t he look back?
Come on, Change, I don’t want to cry
Really, what is it that I lack?
I guess I’ll just have to wait
Here at the roller rink. I watch him skate
Like change, he’ll be around again.
Maybe this week, he’ll notice
I have straightened my hair
And I am wearing a new stripped blue shirt.
Now I look nice and thin.
But will he like the brown skin I’m in?
That I can’t change or rearrange.
Anna- Thanks for sharing wonderful take on the ode to change prompt. I loved how you included a photo that was super fun! I loved how at the very beginning you said “Come on, Change, I used to say/I’m truly bored today./What a shame.” I relate to this wholeheartedly because I remember wishing I was older everyday single day when I was younger. Now I wish I could go back and enjoy that time more. Your poem tells a story and the photo paints a picture!
Hi, Anna! Your poem is electric today as a young spirit that doesn’t want to be tamed, and I absolutely love it. However, the final question is sobering: “But will he like the brown skin I’m in?” I have a dream that one day no one on Planet Earth worries about the color of their skin. Thank you for such a gift poem!
Anna,
I love this reflection and scene back to the roller rink. You reminded me of Saturday or was it Sunday afternoon skates at our local roller rink in Elmhurst, Illinois. Alas, that rink is long gone, but it was a place of learning to be with and alongside others in motion. A performance in so many ways that had so many life lessons and wonderings which you capture beautifully here.
Sarah
Anna– I love your ode to the past! It’s a nice way to nod to our past experiences, and I feel like I can vividly envision this part of your life. Our experiences are only separated by different eras of time. However, the thrill of having a crush is certainly a milestone for any teenage girl. Your poem highlights the feelings of excitement and hope in the air. The hope that things will change and that the cute boy will stop to talk to you today. Life certainly is more interesting when you’ve got someone to look forward to!
Oh, what a beautiful and poignant twist at the end for this scene. No matter how much we might do to ourselves, we definitely cannot change how others are going to perceive us – especially based on those cultural influences – which we keep working on, slowly attempting to turn tides. I love the whole skating rink scene – there is a fun-ness about that throwback! And what we wouldn’t do to ‘get noticed’ by the ‘other’ whom we adored – and who likely didn’t even know we existed, right? I can just hear Earth Wind and Fire now – “Do you remember…” Thanks for the fun and thoughtful poem.
Alex, Alicia, Gladys, and Ruth, thank you for inspiring us today! Your poems led me in different directions which gave me time to process. I love nature and how it gently reminds us of the beauty and certainty of impermanence. I decided to try to love on women who are of a certain age today. I’m under the weather and being sick and “not young” just bring out the worst in me. So I’m speaking to myself in this poem.
Change, Put Some “Respek” On It!
Let’s put some “respek” on change
Imagine accepting ebbs and flows
of beauty
How we admire when brown crackly leaves
paint patterns on autumn’s palette
Imagine loving lines by our eyes
Not naming them the feet of crows
Imagine holding babies
Tucking them into
the nooks of our
mid-sections
like a warm winter’s throw
Let’s put some “respek” on change
Honor us women
who bear earthly burdens
on our backs and in our bones
who believe in collagen and heated masks
but know it’s all a hoax
Honor us women
whose souls hold stories
of love and loss
and give wisdom to the world.
©Stacey L. Joy, 10/20/24
Stacey- Thank you for taking the time to respond to our prompt today. I think it’s beautiful that you are writing to yourself. I did the same thing in my poem, I really struggle with change and writing out how I felt was a great way to understand myself a little more. I loved how you talked about honoring us women in different ways, that inspired me to change little on how I look at the world. Great take on the prompt!
Stacey, hope you feel better soon. This cold is dragging for quite some time already. I love the take on the prompt today. When I first read the prompt this morning, I thought about my achy bones, gray hair, and aging face. I am with you to offer: “Imagine loving lines by our eyes / Not naming them the feet of crows.”
I love the second stanza entirely, but the final four lines are so crucial:
“Honor us women
whose souls hold stories
of love and loss
and give wisdom to the world.”
The alliteration–souls/stories; love/loss, and wisdom/world–add so much melody to these lines. Thank you, friend, and feel better 🙂
Yes, I just got an inhaler and antibiotics so I’m hoping for a better day tomorrow. Thank you!
Inhaler and antibiotics should help! Sending healing vibes.
Oh, so good to hear. Hugs.
Oh, yes, Stacey. “Honor us women” for the “souls” and “stories” and “wisdom.” Yes! I had a long visit with one of my seven sisters yesterday and felt these three words profoundly and with dignity.
Peace,
Sarah
Stacey, your poem reminds me of the film about Ruth Ginsberg and how she began working on gender equity issues that eventually led to her appointment to the Supreme Court.
Did you know her first case was about a male being discriminated against?
Oh, Stacey, I’m glad you are able to write this weekend, even though you aren’t feeling well. I hope the inhaler and antibiotics do the trick.
Yes, respek, respek, respek! You have captured so much of the beauty of aging here. My favorite is this. I’m feeling that nestling baby in my soft middle through these gorgeous lines:
Hello A, A, G, and R! I am so glad you gave us this prompt today and gladder still that you are all young student/educators. Welcome to the teaching journey. I started my journey more than 46 years ago and i have never regretted it. Here is my ode to teaching.
Ode to Teaching
Oh teaching, you knew
you knew from the start
that I had something to give,
something I wanted to share,
Maybe it was laughter,
Maybe it was stories,
Maybe it was empathy,
A listening ear,
A soft shoulder.
Oh teaching, you knew,
you knew right from the start
that I was eager to please
that I would work hard,
getting up early and staying late,
planning and reading, and thinking
about how to solve
all those student problems:
Numbers are fuzzy,
Words are jumpy,
Other kids laugh and snicker,
Can’t stop moving, jumping, twirling,
Can’t stop talking, talking, talking.
All of it was wonderful fuel
For my teaching fire.
Oh teaching, you knew,
you knew from the start
that I was born for this work,
that it would make my life
hard and sweet at the same time
that I would pour my whole self into it,
that it would be hard for me to leave,
that I will always be a teacher.
Oh teaching, you knew!
Joanne- Thank you so much fro taking the time today to share this with us. This was a beautifully written ode poem. very inspirational. I loved how you said ” All if it was wonderful fuel fro my teaching fire” because all of the good and bad is fuel. It drives you to be a better teacher, to be more understanding.
Thanks, Ruth! The fuel was definitely all those quirky kids people would give me because I got them. I got them because I was one of them. I walked in their sneakers! I’m so glad that there are new teachers coming up with passion for changing lives. Teaching is SO important.
Joanne . . .
This is so sweet! A person meant to teach. And teaching KNEW. I love how you repeat your admiration of that entity throughout and landing on it. It really works.
I get the feeling you are very much like me . . . the intangibles are what make you a good teacher and what makes leaving it so very hard. I especially love these lines:
Thanks, Susan. I know I have to think of retiring, but then I keep looking at new openings. “I could do that!” I say to myself. I’m not ready to give it up, yet!
Joanne, this poem was beautiful. It shows the positives and the negatives of teaching but also why teachers become teachers. Great job!
Thanks, Mara. I think the negatives are what made me better, what made me want to stay in and make a difference.
Joanne, such promising and encouraging words straight from your heart, from the vine-ripened glass of wisdom to the new grapes first bearing the fruits of teaching. It’s a lovely way to validate the calling – which is the ONLY way that one should enter this field is with assurance that teaching is in their bones. I love the encouragement and passion I feelin in your verse.
Thank you, Kim!
Ladies,
Thank you for the prompt today. I always think of change as something I see in others easier than myself. Certainly it shows up for me in the mirror, but when I see my students in town as parents now, it really comes home. Or when I see them at conferences when they were once conferenced about. Today I looked at it from the perspective of my two dachshunds. I see them in our morning ritual, and they epitomize change, in everything but the way they still love me.
ODE TO THE PUPPERS
My Gretta,
my baby girl,
fourteen years have brought you
to this morning.
Barking from the kitchen
time to eat
watching from the baby gate.
The summer of your arrival
you broke in the kitchen,
stripping the linoleum baseboards,
chewing the legs of the chairs
Look what I did!
The children would spoil you,
Kyla in kindergarten,
A pupper herself.
My Zuko,
my baby boy,
four years have brought you
to this morning.
Barking from the kitchen
time to eat
watching from the baby gate.
The summer of your arrival
there was little sleep, crate training,
barking beyond the capacity of an alpha wolf
Hey…hey…hey, hey!
Even Gretta was tested,
you backing butt first into her crate
hungry for snuggles.
And now
this morning,
I fill your bowls
and sit on the floor in the kitchen
leaning against the sink cabinet.
Gretta finishes first,
and comes to me quietly with a wagging tail,
climbing into my lap,
gazing into my eyes through her blue-white milky pupils,
breathing her yech breath in my face,
waiting for the pill pocket treat
that holds her Apoquel dosage.
Zuko barks at his ball,
grabs the ball,
brings it to me on stiff hobbling back legs
and drops it,
I throw it near the kitchen door,
and he hobbles after it,
brings it back to his bowl,
he eats a little,
letting me rub his back,
tracing over the scar where his spinal surgery was last Easter,
and then he pushes the ball toward me
barking the start of a new round,
ready to hobble,
retrieve,
and eat,
again.
Rex- Thank you for sharing your thoughts on our prompt today. I am becoming a teacher myself so I loved how you talked about the change in your students. I thought it was very cool the way you described the ritual with your dogs and how that evolved and changed overtime. when I was thinking of “ode to change” I immediately thought of the change in myself not the change in others, I thought it was amazing how your mind went right to that!
Rex, I appreciate your repetition of “brought you to…” Maybe we can convince Sarah to edit a poetry collection all about dogs–such a common theme. Thank you for sharing.
Rex,
I noticed how the poem inched toward a single word at the end. I am thinking a lot about closure these days, and noticing how you cycle through the Zuko’s rhythm of play is beautiful, ending in hope for “again.”
Sarah
Ah, so sweet. Puppers are so loving. Glad Zuko is on the mend!
Wow, Alicia, Gladys, Ruth, and Alex,
thank you for being hosts and leaders here today! Your poems on change were very interesting to see how you each handled the topic with such passion and lovely word choice. Thank you for hosting today.
I was inspired today by Neruda’s “Ode to Sadness.” I wanted to write one about another emotion, but I couldn’t decide how/what to do, so I went another direction, but I did use the verbs in his closing lines…trample, sweep, wring, etc. in my poem.
______________________________________________________
Ode to The Bending of the Arc of the Moral Universe
It’s true what Dr. King said,
a tiny bend of justice
keeps coming.
This I believe.
The arc will trample hatred.
The arc will sweep away fear.
The arc will wring the neck of idolatry.
The arc will stitch garments of justice.
The arc will sew raiments of joy.
Denise- Thank you so much fro taking the time to respond today. I loved your ode poem because it left room for the mind to take over. I found myself reading it a couple of times and each time I came up with new thoughts. I found it super interesting when you said “The arc will sweep away fear.” and then followed it with “The arc will sew raiments of joy.”
Denise, my favorite line is “wring the neck of idolatry”–very powerful and pondering line. Thank you for sharing today.
I pray the arc will do exactly as your poem speaks. Lord knows we need it. 🩵
Denise,
I am so grateful for your advocacy during this election season as I have seen your reflections and urges leading into the vote coming soon. You are, in my view, teaching about democracy as something dynamic that we can shape, and I see that in the arc of repetition in this poem with strong verbs of trample, sweep, wring, stitch, sew. All agentive and possible actions. All choices.
Peace,
Sarah
Denise, Neruda’s poem spoke especially to me as well – what a glorious weaving of words you’ve done here! I have a sense of a banner waving in the breeze, against the bluest sky, under the radiant, sustaining sun.
Age
It begins with a
silver strand
that seems to scream out
from a field of brown
So glaring, so winterizing
The years, they are changing
Like a dandelion in a perfect bed of grass
it spreads
Blown about by the blustery gusts
Of life’s experiences
Exhilarating . . . exhausting
The months, they are changing.
Soon there is a comfort in seeing
the mirror and watching
the field of brown slowly shift
to autumn’s glory
A tapestry unlike all others
The days, they are changing
Time is slowing down
and speeding up at the same time
That which once was is now a
memory of sweet perchance
Of lessons and learning
The hours, they are changing
The dandelion, now a wisp of the
yellow petaled medallion
it once was
Blow and your wish will come true
A weed, a wish, or wisdom you spread?
The moments, they are changing
Judi Opager
Judi- I loved how you formatted your poem, with the years…the the months…the days…the hours…the moments… and changing.This flowed beautifully. I absolutely loved how you described the days changing “Time is slowing down/and speeding up at the same time” It made me think of how some days feel so much longer than others. thank you fro sharing your thoughts.
Judy,
This is genius . . . from the structure taking us from long spans of time to the briefest, the lines within offer such hope and acceptance within the changes. I think every woman who first spies that
needs this poem hanging in their bathroom so they can joyfully accept the changes.
The emotion is so strong and the imagery even stronger.
Judi,
Breathtaking! I can feel the warmth of your poem in my core.
Love this changing of hair related to the dandelion – make a wish, spread wisdom. Just beautiful.
With change comes loss
As every invisible thing slips away into time
Leaving us with
Something
And it’s not the same
Seasons of growth follow seasons of rest
Even if you’re already the tallest in the forest
There’s nothing to stop you from growing higher
Step out of that wintry pang
and into the soft, clear light of Spring
My dear, with every storm that comes
You weather it better
And stronger
Don’t be afraid
What’s around the corner can hurt you
But as you’ve done for seasons and seasons
You’ll endure
Helenamjok- Thank you for sharing these words. I love the way you described growth in change. I defiantly find myself dwelling on the negative in change but I loved how you made a positive comment about change, sometimes change is good. I loved at the end when you said “What’s around the corner can hurt you/But as you’ve done for seasons and seasons/You’ll endure” this speaks a lot for me. It makes me realize that change is so frequent we are programed to adapt and endure it.
Such a lovely poem full of inspiration and wisdom!
Beautiful. And true. I love these lines best:
I love the lines, “Step out of that wintry pang / and into the soft, clear light of Spring.” And I love the inspiration at the end: “You’ll endure.” Thanks for crafting and sharing this!
A lot to unpack in all of these poems, Alexandra, Alicia, and Gladys. I think I was influenced by a kind of thread of sorrow or at least somberness I felt woven throughout. This poem comes from nowhere in my life – it just is what came to me. Love it when that happens!
With change comes
acceptance
when you have no choice
I believe the word is
resignation
& that can change
to resentment
for which the Dalai Lama says
change your feelings
develop an anecdote
of patience and tolerance
or change your view
Pema Chödrön suggests
think: “Just like me”
to change you
out of my life
I have to believe
just like me
you want the untangling
that comes with change
Denis- I loved this line in your poem “change your feelings/develop an anecdote/of patience and tolerance” Its a realistic view on change because its happening wether we like it or not and we have to adapt. I also liked your insightful comment on relating to something that you might not necessarily have a direct connection with. I know I can relate to that. Thank you for sharing!
Alex, Ruth, Gladys, Alicia — Wow! Thank you for the layers of thought. It inspires me to continue to play with this ode –I’m not sure I’ve really captured what I want to say yet, but here it is in its first draft:
ah, Change
you tempt us with yesterdays
tease us with memories
obfuscate with age
dizzy us with all you take away
try as we may to snap, capture, tag
ourselves into believing we might remain the same
you whisper in wrinkles and grays
years will lead us away
so I say:
be wedded to seasons
let leaves brittle the sidewalks
their clack and skitter a coda
a melody seeded deep in our hearts
to feed us through winter, I say:
be wedded to today’s invitation to play
let it un-pry our grip on routine
we won’t lose our way, it promises
this sunrise we have not seen
I say: be wedded to dreams
rest assured they companion me
through Change
draft, Patricia J. Franz
October 20, 2024
Patricia-The first lines “You tempt us with yesterdays/ tease us with memories” really draw us into the piece and I feel like it was a great way to convey the realization that somethings must change. I also thought that the final stanza was a brilliant way to summarize the feeling that change is something that is constant, though it does not always look the same. Thank you for sharing this draft!
Patricia, your phrase of “tempt”ing is getting me to think about change in many different ways. Thank you for sharing today.
This speaks to me
a melody seeded deep in our hearts
to feed us through winter, I say:
be wedded to today’s invitation to play
It’s like the realization that today is indeed the day to enjoy each aspect of every season, because there are no guarantees of the next one. It’s beautiful, and I can hear the melody loud and clear.
I love the image: “be wedded to” especially being “wedded to today’s invitation to play”. There are so many additional powerful images too, like “you whisper in wrinkles and grays”, “dizzy us”, and “”let it un-pry our grip on routine”
as a parent
with change comes
teenagers, little ticks
of time, I just want to hug those
moments and the humans involved
movie night, where we all do foot peels
shedding, changing textures of our feet
short car rides where the chit-chat evolves
from one internet citation to another
pant length, over a season
rides high to show growth
my closet shifts as pieces are stolen
now that they fit others in my household
looking to my left to see the driver, who is
training, emerging into their own being
a metamorphosis phase
for both parent and child
I recognize those seeds of change in my own life, Stefani — especially looking to my left to see the driver!
Stephanie,
I like how your poem catalogues quotidian details:
and
Then you end with a punch if insight;
Stefani- I enjoyed reading this piece and the perspective of how change can feel for a parent going through that with their children. I specifically could relate to the line “My closet shifts as pieces are stolen/ now that they fit others in my household”, when I was in high school and even now when I get the chance to go home, I am always borrowing my mom’s clothes. The line “A metamorphosis phase for both parent and child” perfectly sums up the piece at the end, thank you for sharing this!
This is such a loving portrait of being a mom – holding on to little ticks of time and going to
my closet shifts as pieces are stolen. I loved stealing my mom’s old-fashion suit jackets. I thought they looked so trended. This poem brings me back! Thank you!
Oh, Stefani, what a treasure. I love “I just want to hug those / moments and the humans involved” and I want to hug the humans involved in this poem too. The enjambment throughout is so interesting.
Alicia, Gladys, Ruth, and Alex,
Thanks for stepping up to host during your busy college semesters. Makes me happy to think of the positive leadership you four poets are going to bring to our profession.
Thanks for providing the prompt for the poem I needed to write today.
Home
the weather is cooler
than when I left
three weeks ago
siting at a picnic table
amongst scrubby oak trees
eating mole enchiladas
and nursing a sour at Meanwhile
wondering what I’ll do
with the sadness
of not being able
to call you
in the mornings
Oh Sharon, I am facing my own physical relocation next week and grieve with you those morning calls that I will miss!
Sharon- I liked the idea of referencing the emotions of change specifically. Your line in stanza 3, “Wondering what I’ll do/ with the sadness/ of not being able/ to call you/ in the mornings” was a great way of conveying one of how change as a feeling can be expressed. Thank you for sharing this!
Sharon, your imagery is direct and transportive. I like how grounded the poem is in sensory details. It primes me for the last, reflective stanza. I’ve sat in that park, the weather turning colder, realizing relationships are changing.
Sharon, what a gentle and beautiful poem. Starting out with the weather and then your time at eating and drinking. Ending with the last stanza, which is so poignant and sad.
Alex, Alicia, Gladys, and Ruth . . . thank you so much for investing in us today and for providing such a perfectly appropriate prompt. I feel encouraged that the four of you are going into education! And you clearly understand the value of words!
This time of year with the weather cooling down and the leaves changing always gets me thinking about change. I dallied with writing about the changes in American politics but ultimately decided against such a serious, perhaps divisive, topic. Instead, I went with a light topic . . . menopause.
The Change
O,
The Change
how miserable you are.
You have stripped
women of the fundamental things
they need for life
and the world just accepts you
for what you are.
O,
The Change,
you and your damned article,
why does the medical world
insist on taking you at face value,
at assuming it’s the price women
must pay for being women.
As if decades of menstruating
isn’t enough.
Sure,
You are the sign that our bodies
can no longer create, sustain,
and birth life
but do you have to be so mean about it?
You take us from
vibrant,
energetic,
strong
women
to shadows of ourselves
dull,
lifeless,
and weak.
You strip us of the hormones
needed to keep us strong and healthy
and the patriarchy within medicine
just lets you wreak havoc unchecked.
“Those hot flashes will get better
when the temperature drops”
“Adopt the Mediterranean diet
and exercise more to lose that stubborn fat.”
“Here’s your anti-anxiety drug
to zombie you away from cortisol’s effects”
“Ambien is a miracle drug to help you sleep”
“The more you move, the more energy you will get”
Somehow,
you have become normalized and accepted
rather than researched and fought.
You are one hellish entity!
O,
The Change . . .
if men experienced you,
huge advancements would have
been made decades ago.
Instead, you remain
with your pokey talons
gripping us and
ripping us until
we become a shell
of ourselves.
You vampire your way
into us
sucking us dry of the lifeblood
that made us the force we were.
Were.
Free us from your death grip!
Let us live with strength and vitality.
O,
The Change,
Go
to Hell.
~Susan Ahlbrand
20 October 2024
Susan- Thank you for sharing! The intentionality of this piece was real and inspiring, and the lines you wrote sent a strong message. I especially appreciated the line “The Change…/if men experienced you,/ huge advancements would have/ been made decades ago.” Also, the use of repetition of the word “were” in the seventh stanza was a great addition. The honesty of true experience made this poem so impactful when reading, great work!
This is a brilliant turn to take on the prompt, Susan! I love the intertextuality in this poem. It really owns how complex and influenced by others some of our biggest changes can be.
This. Is. Gold.
And all true.😆😡
Susan, I’m applauding! I am loving all the slants on change today, from money to different things, to aging – – and I especially love this
The Change . . .
if men experienced you,
huge advancements would have
been made decades ago.
Truer words never written – – but I must share a sad and real moment on this. Sometimes they give men hormones for prostate cancer to keep the hormone from producing and keep the cancer from spreading. When they do, men can have hot flashes. Just like women. And when my father was having about his third one on my last visit, he looked at me with sweat pouring down him and sincerely said, “I never realized you women had it this bad. Y’all deal with a lot.” Yes. Yes, we do. I felt understood in those moments, not that I wanted to be, but it proves that when men have to deal with a twinge of what we deal with, it smacks them hard.
Yep, Susan! Totally agree! I love the form of this poem and the devilish imagery. These lines I loved the best:
O,
The Change . . .
if men experienced you,
huge advancements would have
Thank you, gals! I love that changing up the mentor poems by offering one from each of you adds more layers to the prompt of change. So many lines resonated: nature is not the only element that sustains change (Alex), maybe we could be friends someday (Ruth), you whisper promises of growth (Gladys), the piercing gaze of difference looks at me (Alicia). I had thought to create a found poem from your lines, but is often the case when writing, my direction changed course.
An Ode to Change: Addition by Subtraction
Life is full of change
one day it’s whole
and the next,
well…
so it goes
The lessening begins slowly
a bit taken here
a bit there
a dialectal hange
Don’t let this downward droop
get the best of you
hang in
refuse to be discouraged
You’re not the hag
they want you to think
you are
Ha!
Jennifer-Thank you for sharing! I also agree that this prompt could have also been used for a found poem but I loved the direction you took using the Ode to format. I thought that the addition-by-subtraction theme was so creative and the physical change of the word from change to hag at the end was an interesting twist! I especially enjoyed the stanza “Don’t let this downward droop/ get the best of you/ hang in/ refuse to be discouraged” because change is not always a linear process, you really do have to hang in there.
Jennifer, not gonna lie— kind of obsessed with this form! Loved your poem and how the form and meaning worked so well together. ❤️
Jennifer. I had to look up hange as a dialectical OE word and I’m amazed by the list of meanings and nuances that can work here! The whole concept (no pun, honest) of your poem works perfectly – subtracting letters, extracting new meanings… is this not exactly what change does, adding by subtracting? Masterfully done, all the way to the last laugh, which, I suspect, belongs to Change.
Really clever, Jennifer. And love that we women get the last word!
I love the changing meaning! This is very creative. Thank you, Jennifer.
How clever this is, Jennifer! I was yanked in by the concept of addition by subtraction. So much that I opened a Doc of my own and typed that in as a seed for me to plant. It took me a bit to recognize that you were losing a letter of CHANGE each time. I love that you landed on Ha!
Jennifer, this less-lettering-each-stanza makes me chuckle and high five on the Ha! It took me a few attempts to figure it out, but when I did, I understood the title too. It’s such a cerebral energy – welcome and gives me a feeling of deep satisfaction to think about what you’ve done here – I wish I’d had the same energy you had today! Bravo!
Wow! What an imagination you have! This is ingenious – the falling off of each letter to make a new one! Ha! Indeed!
Jennifer, this is perfect! So clever! I love the Vonnegut feel of your first stanza and the slowly subtracting letters that form new (and quite apt!) words along the way, leading up to the final “Ha!” So well done! Thank you!
Alicia, Gladys, Ruth, and Alex, thanks for sharing this great prompt with us today! I loved your poems and how different they were in their flavors. (And, Alicia, I had to grin at your Animal Crossing reference — my daughters who are also college-age love it.). Here’s my offering for today! 🙂
Ode to Change
Ubiquitous as you once were,
I do not miss you .
It was a Golden Age –
An age of silver, copper-hued.
I wouldn’t give a plug nickel for you.
Dragged down by your weight.
Spilled for all to see,
You left a glittering trail
That was impossible to pick up.
(Especially with acrylics.)
In cars and jars,
You’d attract a gummy ick
That filmed you and stuck like glue.
And when I’d try to
Roll you nice and tight
Dropping you into your
Cozy paper chute,
You’d stymie me at every turn,
Sliding in sideways
Instead of settling in,
Flush and comfy
with your waiting friends.
And now, my friend,
You have become
Almost utterly useless.
Cashiers won’t even
Accept you, preferring to
Take the loss
Or rounding up to the next dollar
To avoid having to
Deal with you:
(A welcome change, indeed.)
Wendy- The focus of the changing of times in regard to the coins was inspiring. In stanza 2 these lines specifically, “You left a glittering trail/ That was impossible to pick up./ (Especially with acrylics.)” were some of my favorites, I know the struggle of attempting to pick up these coins with acrylics personally haha. And the final line “A welcome change, indeed” was a great way of tying the piece together. Thank you for sharing this ode!
Wendy, what a rich ode to a penny! It made me remember my childhood when every penny seemed like a little treasure, but is “utterly useless” today, as you notice. Love the imagery in your second stanza. Thank you for sharing!
A fun and apt spin on the word “change,” Wendy! I am wondering abut the mountains of change that must be sitting in people’s homes. Remember how fast food restaurant owners begged for people to pay in coins, a year or so ago?? I recall my grandfather carefully saving and rolling coins… it IS hard to do! I learned a trick for it when I worked at a bank, but I doubt ever using it again. Life and the world have surely changed, indeed. Some of it quite welcome, as you say. Your poem is a delight to read – and to ponder.
Fran, I’m dying to know the trick!
Have your wrapper ready, open/rounded as much as possible. Fold one end closed (you could tape it if you like). In one hand, hold the all the counted out coins in a line, the way they will be when they’re inside the wrapper. In the other hand, hold the wrapper. Bring your coin line to the open mouth of the wrapper and, if you tilt just right, making use of gravity – WHOOSH! – the whole line of coins slides in like magic. Sometimes you have to shake a bit, but they’ll fall in. Ta-da!
Fran,
This is a poem. Feels like an extended metaphor for life.
Love the “WHOOSHl” and “Ta-da” coupled with “Sometimes you have to shake a bit, “
❤️❤️❤️ Thanks! Yes, I still roll my coins — it’s kind of relaxing! 😆
Wendy, I’m reminded that we, too, will take the loss or round up, just to avoid dealing with change (of any kind), and what that says about our society – how far we will go to fight the natural change that occurs. My thoughts have strayed far afield from pennies and nickels but that is what good writing does – leads us into our own thinking.
Wendy,
Love the detailed and apt descriptions and personification.
This part was my favorite:
Wendy,
How smart of you to work change into your ode about change. I love this so much. I have always been a collector of coins. Not officially or anything, but I also liked having change and looking to see where they were minted. I seldom have a penny in my hand that I don’t check the year, especially looking for a wheat penny.
We have a huge glass water cooler jug in our bedroom where we throw our extra change each day. We filled it up pretty quickly twice (and the total was astounding actually), but this most recent one is taking forever.
What irks me is that places are becoming less apt to take cash yet they charge you to use your card. Seems wrong on many levels. Let’s keep valuing change . . . pun intended!
Love your sentiments, Susan — and this story! 🙂
Wendy, I love your take on change. It took me a couple of stanzas to figure it out, but that paper chute – – that paper chute that was always the challenge, I was right there with the frustrations, and finally the cashier that won’t even take it now – brilliant! I love this line of thinking on the change.
Alex, Alicia, Gladys, and Ruth: Thank you for this invitation today. So many of your observations and lyrical lines ring true to me. I was reflecting as I read that “the only constant in life is change.” It’s inevitable. We long for the good (what we think are good changes, anyway) and fear the bad (or what we deem to be bad). I suppose that’s why the idea of a chameleon came to mind, because of its ability to change colors…change shifts colors, too, if only in our own perspectives. We don’t get to see the big picture at once, just pieces. I wish you all great success in your ventures, in school, career, and life. Here goes my draft:
Ode to Change
Change, you’re but
a chameleon
long-tailed,
darting in and out of
the cracks
you wreak
in life’s masonry,
changing your colors
at will.
Your presence cannot be
denied;
in the cool of the day
in the heat of the night
your birdlike feet are
ever-running
to and fro
to and fro
until the marks
begin to show.
Some might call you
a dragon:
Enormous, mighty,
green-scaled, impenetrable,
appearing with such suddenness
from the nether regions
that there’s no chance of defense
against your scorching breath.
Others might attest
to the softness beneath
your leather-dry skin,
knowing that, for all your
indeterminate shades and
seeming randomness,
if they beckon you
if they patiently wait for you
if they can bring themselves
to embrace you,
they shall be rewarded
with a sweet secretion of
your healing balm.
O, Change,
inevitable, insatiable creature,
how constant you are.
If we could be see as you do,
with one thick-lidded eye looking forward
and the other looking back,
we might learn
to fear less
to embrace more…
we might shift
our mind-colors enough
to accept
your invitation
to work alongside you
(or in your wake)
not as saviors
but as salvers and salvagers
in the inescapable
cracks and chasms
of our mortality
and our mattering…
then perhaps like you,
O Change-Chameleon,
the bones we leave behind
shall glow,
lighting the way
for those who follow.
*****
Note: Some species of chameleons exhibit biogenic fluorescence – bones that glow in ultraviolet light.
Fran, this extended metaphor was fire! Loved your imagery — this was inspired!
Fran- Thank you for sharing this poem! The use of chameleons and how they physically embody change is a great idea! The lines “we might learn to fear less/ to embrace more…/we might shift/ our mind-colors enough/ to accept/ your invitation” really pulled me into the space of needing to accept change even when we fear it. I also enjoyed the imagery in “Some might call you a dragon:/ Enormous, mighty/ green-scaled, impenetrable,” and a chameleon embodying the traits of a dragon in regards to how people may perceive the chameleon worked great within this piece!
Fran, I like the various facets/faces of change in your poem: a chameleon, a dragon, a soft creature. So much is here to marvel! But you take it further, and then your wisdom comes in with “If we could see you as you do,” and how it would help us:
“we might learn
to fear less
to embrace more…”
Thank you for this lesson!
Fran, the “bones” of your poem are glowing bright (I think I want to have this biogenic flourescence – can you imagine?!). I could see those birdlike feet leaving their wrinkled marks behind. Your shift between the inescapability of change to the “bones we leave behind…lighting the way” is magical. Just like life. I’m so glad you found the magic there. Especially so, that you offered it to us today. Lovely!
Ok, Y’all, here’s a needed change: Delete “be” from the line which ought to read “If we could see as you do”…
Fran, the chameleon metaphor is fabulous! You need to think about a picture book!
Fran . . . kudos to you for sticking so brilliantly to the prompt. You carry the metaphor of change to the chameleon so well throughout the poem, including many fresh ideas! I especially love these lines:
Fran, I love the science in your poem – – the glowing bones, the chameleon as a changeling. I especially love
with one thick-lidded eye looking forward
and the other looking back,
we might learn
to fear less
to embrace more…
something about the thick-lidded eyes of future and past reaches inward and reassures us that there are eyes – – the eyes of fear against the eyes of opportunity. And there is much in this kind of looking that enables us to see that perhaps, just perhaps, we might try sticking a big toe in to test the waters.
Did not know that about chameleons, Fran! This poem has so many layers. You lay them down expertly. I love these lines – they are so true!
Wow, Fran, what a metaphor for change. I love the one eye looking forward and one looking back. The alliteration in these lines is great:
Ruth, Gladys, Alex, and Alicia, thank you for hosting us today with this fabulous prompt on change. What a lovely way to begin the season – and it is changing so rapidly here. I think of my walk each morning with the dogs and how I love seeing the leaves fall!
Letting Go in Chained Haiku
the leaves show us how
on our morning driveway walks
straight into the sun
how to let things go
bidding the branches goodbye
flitting to forest
floor beneath, seeking,
stirring, gathering in groups
with others who’ve held
onto things for far
too long to know weightlessness
untethered freedom
to roll on gentle
breeze to take to bright blue skies
on blustery gusts
to change their small view
and see the whole world anew. ~
a new perspective
Hi Kim! I enjoyed the idea of writing about the morning walks with your dogs as I personally love to do that too, especially in the fall. The last stanza “To change their small view/ and see the whole world anew.~/ a new perspective” was a great way to end the poem by tying in the additional type of change along with the observation of nature’s changes referenced in the piece. Thank you for sharing this!
Kim, I walk though your haiku with you, learning, always learning, to let things go but more so to appreciate them while they remain (“nothing gold can stay,” per Frost). Here in the autumn of life I learn to savor more deeply. I learn that the untethering is not to be feared, but release. New perspectives, oh yes – every day. There is such poignance and such brightness in your lines – they make my heart ache. In the best way.
Kim, I love this haiku form! Love the alliteration and your word choice in here — such a beautiful piece to read this morning. I agree about those fall walks — our new dog Sam and I just took a lovely one yesterday. Thanks for this!
Kim, thank you for taking me for a walk this morning with your haikus! Love rich images in every haiku. I think learning “how to let things go” comes so difficult to many if us, but it is necessary to welcome change. Sometimes I find myself like “others who’ve held
onto things for far
too long to know weightlessness
untethered freedom.”
So true!
Kim, my mind traveled in your direction today, thinking of the accumulations and gathering that we begin our life journey with and then the slow release ensues. There’s something about this string of haiku, how each one holds onto the last yet shifts too, that reflects the definition of change. I’m most drawn to that leaf and its untethered freedom. I’m ready to know weightlessness.
Love this, Kim! The first stanza grabbed me and didn’t let go. What an imaginative way to form your pome – chained haiku! Fabulous!
Kim, I love the chained haiku — I can feel how spare and essential you had to be, which fits so perfectly with embracing change
Kim,
A series of haiku would be challenging enough, but the way these are chained together . . . brilliant! Each idea moves on to the next idea wonderfully and seemingly effortlessly. I especially love the sound of this stanza:
Kim, beautiful haiku poem about change and “a new perspective”. Lovely. I loved these lines, as I believe accepting the changes and letting go can give one “untethered freedom”