Our Host
James is a guitarist, writer, and 4-star cheesecake baker (according to his wife). He was recently published in the Poet’s Choice collection of supernatural poetry, Paranormal, and will be featured in an upcoming edition of the zine Black Stone/White Stone. This is James’s first year as an English educator after having spent the past 10 years working in graphic design and printing. He lives and teaches in Chicago.
Inspiration
I’ve been feeling a lot of stress this school year as this is my first year as a teacher. My original idea for today reflected that, as it was a bit of a frustrated mess. I decided I wanted to create something positive for Verse Love – so I reached way back and hit upon a moment where for a fleeting moment, everything seemed glorious and wonderful and possible. It’s a beautiful memory I cherish, and it inspired me to craft a short poem. Today, I hope you can find a beautiful memory to inspire your own writing.
Process
- I used the Tanka form to craft my poem. Tanka is a Japanese poem consisting of five lines, with the lines following a 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 syllable pattern. I have never written one before, so I thought this would be a fun form to experiment with.
- If you would prefer something that gives you a bit more room to express your idea, consider using the Chōka form. Chōka is a Japanese poem of indefinite length, consisting of alternating lines of 5 and 7 syllables, with an extra 7-syllable line at the end.
- For this piece, I wanted to look back at snapshot of a moment – a nanomilisecond where everything seemed wonderful and possible. What moment in your life felt wonderful, peaceful, or perfect?
- But please use this space to write about anything your heart desires in any style you prefer.
James’s Poem
Chicago – 12:03am
On an empty street,
us dancing in the moonlight
your breath on my neck.
I opened my mouth to speak,
but your finger stayed my lips.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. 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.
In this crazy month I missed this prompt, but it is so good, and such a great opportunity for reflection that I wanted to check in on it today. Sorry I wasn’t present on the day of the prompt to be in community with all of our writers
Father and son on an April night in Memphis
About to be married,
son hosts father in Memphis
you lead, I follow
we walk with ghosts, breathe spirits,
you guide this journey.
Posting a day late, but I like the brevity of this option. Last summer I went to Guatemala to visit my immigrant students’ hometowns. That moment when I set foot in the airport and saw the Bienvenidos a Guatemala sign, the only thing I wanted to do was to text them because they were as excited for me as I was for me. I could’ve kept the syllabic structure with Welcome to Guatemala but decided I liked the authenticity of the Spanish more. And, yes, they were just as excited for me to see that sign as I was.
excitement building
a vast sea of city lights
touchdown on tarmac
texting my students a pic
Bienvenidos a Guatemala
Climb through my window
Mud on your knees, on your face
Kiss me in the rain
Wade through puddles, pebbles, frogs
A true teenage love story
MN, what a sweet love story. I like that last line which answers so very many questions.
I loved the addition of frogs to the 4th line, it implies that a memorable event involving frogs occured during this teenage tryst and I am very interested in what it was.
I’ve been pulling some late night lately — sorry this is so late!
James, I so sympathize; I remember the first year well and all the stresses that came with it. Each year gets better. I’m ending Year 27 and still love it — hang in there.
When I arrive home,
It’s clear that I have been missed:
Pink sandpaper tongue
Anoints my hand, and small black
And white head rubs cheek to cheek –
Ensuring that I
Smell like home again, settles
he on my chest
Stares with cat-eye marble gaze:
“Never leave again.”
Ah, Wendy, what a sweet poem of love from your dear little cat. You gave such rich descriptions–the sandpaper tongue, “head rubs cheek to cheek” and him “ensuring that (you) smell like home again”
I chose to try and write in the Chōka style as I was never very good at syllable restricted poems, so I thought it would be a good challenge. My poem is me reminiscing about what happened when I presented my senior thesis and the emotions I was feeling.
Standing up on stage
In front of peers, teachers, and family
Reading out my novel
At least a couple of chapters
Trying to be calm
Hoping that they enjoy it
I finish chapter two
And am greeted with clapping
They give me real praise
My heart fill with pride even now
Remembering what took place.
Andrew, what a proud moment. What a great moment. Good job challenging yourself with a new format and counting the restricting yourself to a syllable count.
I really enjoyed reading your poem today — both what was said and what wasn’t. I hope you continue to find these little moments of joy in your classroom and find the support you need in this amazing community!
I decided to also write a tanka — or three — none of these moments are related except for the fact that they highlight small experiences I had over the past month that I’m still trying to find the past way to capture in writing. We’re taking a small step in the right direction at least with the tanka.
Tanka 1 – Trio by Erica J
“Troublesome trio,”
Mother duck, she calls for you,
guiding you along:
“Paddle fast — no other way!”
Even ducklings don’t listen.
Tanka 2 – Weep by Erica J
Vast cloudless heaven
Then where are these drops falling?
Impossible! Yet–
Light glitters on bare branches
lone tree crying in the breeze.
Tanka 3 – Quetzalcoatlus by Erica J
As though a giraffe
vaulted into the air. Fly!
Across Texan sky
last dinosaur to wander
along the ancient shoreline.
Erica, a great collection of tankas. I can relate to, Tanka 1 as a mother of three, especially these lines,
“Paddle fast — no other way!”
Even ducklings don’t listen.”
Erica, what a treat to capture these moments in tanka. And a treat for us to read them here today. I like how you said, “We’re taking a small step in the right direction with the tanka.” Yes, it does seem like you are! I love the way you used Yet– in the middle tanka. It highlights “Light glitters on bare branches”
Beautiful Memories Escape Me
I really want to
write words of positive-ness.
If I had written
earlier, maybe I’d have
thoughts of upbeat words to write.
As it stands right now,
I’m overcome with the angst;
the dreaded thoughts that
overtake my heart and mind
every Sunday.
I hate the Sunday scaries! I appreciate you writing a poem to honor those feelings though and I hope you are able to go to sleep tonight with a clearer mind.
Donnetta – Sunday Blues… doggone, I hate that you have that. I had it for 30 years. Couldn’t shake it. I loved teaching, had a happy life, but The Sunday Blues are real and awful. “Angst” indeed. My heart goes out to you. Susie
I remember those Sunday stresses, and you have my empathy. I always found that once Monday came, it was doable. But, sometimes those Sundays…
Donetta, your honest poem evokes so much emotion. This line is very strong: “I’m overcome with the angst;” Change happens.
Des Moines, At the Finish Line
In the shadow of
the Crusoe Umbrella
my sweating face my
thumping heart my heaving breath
my tingling skin said yes, yes
you ran far; age can’t catch you.
Allison— I still marvel at how fit and strong you are. What a woman!!! And you can ride a unicycle! And play the accordion! Wowza! Did you ever want to run away (literally) and joking the circus?! 😄 Hugs, Susie
…make that “JOIN” the circus…typos [eyeroll]
Kudos! All the wonderful words for that wonderful feeling of outrunning our years!!
Allison, I love your last line and totally admire your running spirit! Fantastic description of yourself to show yourself in this moment! I can feel the thumping, tingling, and especially the heaving!
Hmmm…does saltwater taffy count as a moment that felt wonderful, peaceful, or perfect? I guess today it does! Thanks for the prompt–and don’t count the syllables too carefully!
Taffy Moments
stretching the sweetness
to the sea and back again
pick all the flavors
unwrap, chew, chew, chew, swallow
savor memories bite by bite
I think candy really does have the ability to transport us to wonderful places in our imagination, remembering…as in “to the sea and back again.” You’ve captured that fleeting glorious feeling so well.
I love this! So much imagery in just a few lines. I can picture myself as a kid walking through the Wisconsin State Fair with my own taffy.
“To the sea and back again”! I loved that line. <3
Saltwater Taffy is the best. I love the line –
I think salt water taffy is a great moment to write about! I love how you captured the texture of it, but I like to think you left the flavor up to the reader 🙂 What a fun tanka.
5:24 am
Kirkland french roast beans
ground 20 seconds rest
under the red tupperware-ish
lid, just three tablespoons
in a cone filter welcome a dash
of cinnamon, a promise to assuage
any inflammation to come plus
two and three quarters cups of
filtered water all while I stand
beside the fridge doing a few
calf raises waiting for my first sip
—
a sure thing
Sarah, you inspire me to sprinkle cinnamon in my coffee grounds! I need that promise. Poetry does so much more than take us to the moment of aromatic presence and hopeful promise. It teaches us new things.
So perfect…love the attention to detail (and the calf raises).
A few precious moments of bliss. Yum to adding cinnamon!!
It’s too late for me to be drinking coffee, but I want a cup after reading your poem. Cinnamon will definitely be added to my cup tomorrow. I admire your use of details. I can visualize so much of your poem.
Sarah — downright enticing, the 1st cuppa jo…. I loved the step-by-step pacing of the poem… that was me yesterday morning… if only it didn’t have to be decaf (sad brown water, to quote my niece…LOL). Even the dash of cinnamon… we are on the same coffee journey. The “sure thing” at the end is a rock solid reminder of those moments that carry us through our days. So simple but so much! I’ll be thinking about this tomorrow morning at 5:24… it’s sorta cruel that I can’t sleep late. Hugs, Susie
Sarah- you have started me in the cinnamon coffee habit ( the habit already existed). That “promise to assuage” may not help my aches, but it does help my taste buds! (I do counter push-ups while I wait!)
Boy, James, this one challenged me, and as you can see I wasn’t precise in keeping to the Tanka form! You offered us a wonderful prompt:
THE FIVE-SECOND RULE
Lesson taught to me
a 12 year old the teacher
The Five-Second-Rule,
which I thought was about food
Patience, Sam taught me the rule
If it can’t be fixed
within five seconds or less
Words better left unsaid.
Lettuce that’s stuck on their tooth
Go ahead, let words fly.
If their hair looks crappy,
keep your mouth shut.
MIC DROP
Oh my, your poem is too funny. I feel the awkwardness here and had a great laugh with your final “MIC DROP”! Wow!
Oh, I love thinking of this 5-second rule (or less) as words better left unsaid. If only, I spend those 5 seconds breathing, I could have saved a lot of grief. Yes “keep your mouth shut.” Sage advice.
Sarah (and thanks for your note- made my day)
There is something so beautifully “middle school” about this advice! Love it so much.
Judi, this is great advice, lol: “If their hair looks crappy, / keep your mouth shut.” Thanks for writing and sharing this “lesson”!
A Rare Reunion
on the hottest day
in July we finally
are all together–
happily sweating, smiling,
finding joy with each other
Barb Edler
7 April 2024
Barb, I’d take a rare reunion on any day of the year! This is so great to be “happily sweating, smiling, / finding joy with each other”
Hope another reunion will be soon!
Barb,
I think when we’re young we don’t often realize how rare these reunions are. The image of a smile, even when sweating, speaks a beautiful language w/out words. This poem makes me smile.
Reading this is like looking at a snapshot. I can visualize a big family, gathered around a picnic table, with smiles on their faces and food in their mouths. So nice!
Barb,
The title rings the precious moment you uncover with such economy of words. We do not need another syllable to know that the sweating, smiling was together — and that made all the difference.
Peace,
Sarah
Barb, I can see the photos of squinting eyes and smiling lips. Aren’t rare reunions the best???
You know you are with dear ones when you are totally at peace with being together when it is hot, I think.
As your fellow Iowan, I appreciate the context of the hottest day in July! “Happily sweating” warmed my heart!
Isn’t that the luck? When we plan things like reunions, we don’t have the weather report. But “we finally / are all together” is worth the sweating. So sweet!
James, thank you for such an intriguing prompt! It gave me the opportunity to search for a positive moment to put into a poem.
This afternoon I relaxed in my backyard and just watched the cloudless sky above me for a moment; I don’t get to slow down and rest like this often, so it was quite joyful for me, the perfect moment to put in this poem. I enjoyed using the Tanka pattern because it made me be more intentional with my words. 🙂
2:33pm, April 4th, 2024
A pillow of grass
Birds chirping, green leaves swaying
Beneath the blue sky
Squirrels dance in the branches
Hope at such peace and beauty
Larin, I love the way you open your poem with “A pillow of grass” which immediately sounds so lovely. Spring days are truly joyous and I like your emphasis on Hope, peace and beauty at the end.
Oh, Larin. I used time in my title today, too. How fun. The first line is a beautiful image “pillow of grass” and so welcoming to anyone. Yes, the birds and sky and squirrels will put on their show for anyone willing to pay attention. Pull up a pillow!
Sarah
Larin,
Your poem is my spring dream. There’s a childlike quality, and w/ the eclipse tomorrow I’m thinking about the last eclipse when I lay on a playground gazing at the sky. This year we’re freezing and far away from the eclipse’s path.
Sweet Spot
You laid your cool hand
on mine, let it linger there,
our fingers blending
into one temperature,
we were part of each other;
two lives laid open,
then bound as if by three notes
sending forth a chord…
the music, a legato,
the smooth tone of us whispered.
by Susie Morice, April 7, 2024©
Oh, such a beautiful lyrical love story told here in these few syllables. “two lives laid open, then bound…” I love the idea of the musical chord coming from the connection.
Beautiful, simply beautiful, Susan, is this ode to love! The second stanza sings your love:
“sending forth a chord…
the music, a legato,
the smooth tone of us whispered.”
Thank you!
Susie,
The dual meaning of “sweet spot” as a baseball term and as a lover’s touch is only one reason you are a master poet, a true artist. And “legato” is such a perfect word to describe the smooth touch of a lover. Gorgeous poem.
“the smooth tone of us whispered.”
What a great line…in a wonderful love story
Susie, I absolutely adore your title. I feel the cool hand, the warmth, fingers blending. The way you tie in the music in the second stanza is gorgeous, and your last line is exquisite. Your poem has a haunting, poignant tone and I can hear the beautiful music created through this union.
Susie,
The title made me smile. What a few syllables and alliteration can do, right. And then this direct address to “you” is so intimate in the blending into one temperature. I don’t think I have heard that phrase before — perfect. The second stanza shows us how the two made such music, and with three notes. That had me thinking of harmony.
Hugs,
Sarah
Susie, the word choices – linger, blending, one….and the title – such a lovely metaphor for all that is in one accord, in unison, in harmony, in love. I feel a sweeping across a dance floor, a ball gown gliding gloriously into a shimmering twirl in a world of two.
Porch swing, hot coffee
Morning breaking bright, warm, clear.
Butterflies twitter
Dancing from flower to bud
To flower pausing
to rest, then off again
Not unlike the simple song
Ringing in my head.
Today’s promise in my cup,
As the wind chimes gently sing.
Jeania,
Such lovely nature images here, and you’ve offered a reminder that sitting, watching, listening are all preferable to speaking while butterflies flit from flower to flower.
Oh Jenia, this sounds like a Sunday morning meditation. Such precious and peaceful images throughout. My favorite line is “Today’s promise in my cup,”
Jeania, I love all the imagery in your lyric poem. Then you get to “[t]oday’s promise in my cup,” and I am ready to brew me another cup of coffee. Thank you for this quiet joy!
Jeania–“Today’s promise in my cup”–a wonderful nugget in your peaceful poem…
Jeania,
I pulled in notes of coffee today. I will think of your poem in my first sip tomorrow morning. This is a lovely place of being you share with the “Butterflies twitter” and the wind chimes gently sing.” Yes, a sip of coffee can change the ringing in a head to a gentle song. Enjoy.
Peace,
Sarah
Before I Checked my Phone
The last box unpacked
we settled into a film
(something about dogs)
I dozed in his arms; we climbed
our stairs, to our bed: our home.
Rachel,
I feel the movement in your poem, as well as the exhaustion. The final image of settling into a new home is evocative of living that American Dream.
Rachel, what a lovely image in this end of a long day of unpacking. I love the three “our” words in that last line. It really emphasizes this new abode that belongs to you both. The title is intriguing.
Rachel, I like how your title seamlessly moves us into the poem. As I read, I made mental notes on arms, stairs, bed–all of them separately and together make what we call home. Thank you!
I felt that this poem radiated warmth, I could tell how much you cherish this moment from the five sentences you wrote about it. Home is very special for me too, so I also resonated with this poem as well. Thank you for sharing!
James, I’m a Motowner. You could have pulled out your guitar and played as I danced with glee – but only inside my head. Well, maybe not the exact song sung by the Marvelettes “Please, Mr. Postman”. ( Here’s a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=425GpjTSlS4) Waiting to hear from home got to be tiresome. I never really verbalized how much I wanted to leave sunny, warm California and move back to the Mitten, yes, snowy, cold Michigan The photo with the map shows the states in which we lived.
No Need to Boast
In five states across the country
We’ve lived from coast to coast.
Just imagine the joy on my face you see,
When finally, I hear and giggle with glee.
“Let’s move back home.
We’ll be nearer to family and still able to roam.”
I commented about this on Katrina’s poem below – but I really think home=peace! What a feeling, to come home, go home, move home, be home. What an experience to roam and live around the country & then to return home. Michigan sounds delightful. And I love your rhymes!
Anna, I know that I am not, by any means, the speaker for all Michiganders or Michiganians, but I certainly believe that we are better off with you here (and we’re proud to have you!).
Oh, Anna, wasn’t it nice to be back home. We had moved back to California after being gone for 38 years, so I can appreciate your poem even more.
Anna, your poem reminded me about Paolo Coelho’s Alchemist, in which he says “Sometimes you have to travel a long way to find what is near.” I quite understand why you “ giggle with glee” hearing the proposition to move back home.
Anna,
There is a double satisfaction in knowing a return home is also to where your family as well as your heart resides. That’s the way I’ve always been about Iowa.
Thanks for the great writing invitation. First year teaching, just keep your head above water. Next year will be better.
We stand at the start,
waiting to weigh our training
on the course. Who knows
how fast we can run. We will
collapse at the finish line.
I rarely feel as hope-
filled as when I stand at the
race starting line, trained.
Ready to test my limits
and see how strong I can be.
(I couldn’t do just one.)
These capture an athlete’s excitement so well. I love “We will / collapse at the finish line” & “I stand at the / race starting line, trained.” Such preparation & determination! It is an amazing feeling.
Eric, nice job writing two versions of this tanka subject. Both are effective and help us get to know you as a running competitor. I like “weigh our training” and “I rarely feel as hope- / filled…”
So true! You have captured the anticipation of the race and feeling hope while you push your limits.
I used to do this, too.
It came suddenly,
I’d forgotten how it felt,
A sense of freedom,
A release from the week’s stress,
I was perfectly at home.
I am so loving these tankas today. I like the feeling of remembering told in so little words here. True comfort.
I’m drawn to your last line – “I was perfectly home.” Many of us talked about “home” in our poems today – I think “home” is the perfect way to describe that feeling of complete peace we are trying to describe. Thank you!
Oh, nice. I like the ability to “suddenly” be in the “release from the week’s stress.” “Perfectly at home” is a special way to describe these moments of peace and rest.
Katrina–I remember that moment of release, being perfectly at home. Sadly, I also remember many Fridays when the release did not come forth…
The last two days have brought me back to our family trip to Iceland. Time together is priceless.
Iceland, 6/30/24 at 3:12 p.m.
Walking under a
gray and white sky we stop to
capture the beauty
of a waterfall and the
joy of exploring Iceland
Thank you for sharing this image in color and in words. They do, indeed, capture the beauty/of a waterfall and the/joy of exploring Iceland.”
Heather,
Once again I recognize your Icelandic paradise. Such a gorgeous country, but I think you have given us the wrong year!
Haha! Yes, I did. It was 2023.
Maybe she’s anticipating time trave!
Wow, Heather, you went to Iceland! How amazing. Such beautiful scenery there that I have only seen in photos. I love the single moment you captured in your tanka about this photo. I think a photo album full of tankas about each would be a lovely keepsake.
I’m glad you’re taking this time to explore photos from your trip and finding even more poetry and words to say about them! I love the second line in particular.
I took a Semester course on Iceland in college and got to take a trip there with my classmates. I absolutely loved the experience and I can tell you enjoyed it as well based on your picture and the poem you wrote. Lastly, isn’t that Gulfloss falls behind you? I saw so many amazing waterfalls in Iceland that I can’t quite recall which one that is.
James – that is such a beautiful moment. I haven’t written in the tanka form, but I will try here. I went to a dark place with the suggestion of things left unsaid. I’ll try to go to a happier place later today.
Once
Three years not a word
comes from my older sister,
Never mentions me,
Thinks she was an only child,
Pretends she didn’t love me.
Joanne, this is a punch…and the title is intriguing…Great use of the title, but that first line catches my attention most.
Thank you. It just came to me in that syllable pattern. Guess I needed to say it.
Powerful poem. The tanka form makes it even more so.
Joanne, “Three years not a word” says it all. Thank you for being vulnerable enough to share this.
Joanne, I’m thinking about how families can bring us such love and such disappointment all at once. There can be those awkward times, and they bring such stress. I like the use of the word “pretends” in your last line – – this offers us the truth that she does still love you if she was only pretending.
Thanks, Kim.
Joanne — I’m feeling that… wish I didn’t, but I totally get it. Fractured families…yup. I know the feeling. Hugs, Susie
Thank you.
Oh, Joanne, that is so painful. That last line is a gut-punch. I’m sorry about the lacking relationship with your sister. I feel hope too because “Once” can happen twice.
Thanks, Denise.
How can this be, Joanne? So sad to have a sister that never mentions you. Your regret is shown in just a few poetic lines.
Oooof! As one with a strained relationship with my own sister, I felt this down deep. Your poem is powerful.
Joanne, family ties are so powerful and when they’re broken, incredibly painful. Your last line is especially heart-wrenching. I’m so sorry!
Thank you for this inspiration! My small moment where everything seemed glorious was finding our neighbor’s lost cat in my backyard – a wonderful find after a week of being missing; I tried to share the story with a Chōka (new form for me).
you are home again
cold rains bruising breeze
where have you run to for warmth
days of wondering
you slipped out an open door
away from two who
love you feed you tend to you
little cat dear one
everyone’s looking for you
seven days of sad
fearful nights as foxes creep
never you, no you
what can we do but accept
your forever loss?
wait, that’s YOU in our backyard
sitting so pleased with yourself
Thanks for sharing. You built the tenseness and worry so well. (Glad it had a happy ending though.)
Haha the end! So like a cat to just be there “sitting so pleased with [itself]” while the world is going crazy over it. “Seven days of sad” – I’ve had a similar experience with one of my cats but she was eventually found stuck in a tree!
Maureen, not only am I so relieved after following the loss of the neighbor’s cat, but I am also feeling the triumph of how even in all the relief of finding him, you still manage to personify his catlike ways in being so pleased with himself sitting there in your back yard. I’m so happy for your neighbors…..after the whole plumbing debacle and then the cat, they needed the love of their cat back!
Oh my gosh… Maureen…I was about to cry… dang… that little bugger was there waiting in the backyard…WHEW! I am always scared to death that my little booger will zip out a forgotten gate (the neighbor left it open once…and she did NOT run off!)…scared the bejeezuz out of me. I loved your poem…so real! Hug that little kitty for me. Susie
OMG, yes! Hello, Dear One! What a wonderful surprise. I love the body of the poem with the “bruising breeze” “sad / fearful nights as foxes creep” and “what can we do but accept / your forever loss?”
Oh, but then that very different ending. I’m so glad you got he’s safe and that is special that you got to be the one to find him. What a gift.
Maureen–we looked daily for five weeks for one of our escaped cats. You capture so perfectly the sadness, the fear. And then, one day, he appeared in our back yard, beat up and thin. It was such a wonderful moment!
Maureen, I’m so happy the cat has now safely returned. I love how you show the fear everyone was experiencing especially knowing that foxes were near. Separating the last two lines really added a wonderful punch to the closing of your poem.
Thank you, James! This took me back to my time in Chicago and inspired me to write about something I often try to forget.
The 7 year master degree
Before a timeline
I choose not to remember
Before seven years
of neglect, pain, suffering
Before grant writing,
lab meetings, and journal clubs
Before committees
of spineless people were formed
Before intense tests
and summer lab rotations
Filled with excitement
I started a PhD
Science had not seen me yet
Love love love the last line….and the first two lines…and the whole darn poem!
I have not ventured down the road of a Ph D but I have friends who have. That is a long journey. Thank you for sharing…I think my favorite lines are “before seven years/ of neglect, pain, suffering
these lines drive home the complexity of your journey.
Hey there, MSG — You are a warrior! Way to go..stick with it! My favorite line was the “…spineless people…” Isn’t that just the blasted truth!? Hoping for a smoother ride ahead! Susie
Thanks everyone for the encouragement! When I talk about this, I choose my words carefully: I finished my PhD, I was not awarded a PhD. Thesis written, everything that was asked of me completed. Committee refused to allow me to defend. I’m now happy teaching high school and in my next chapter of life.
Oh, MSG, I can see why you try to forget–so much red tape and hoops, as well as all the distractions of the busyness of work and study. I would love to sit and hear your story and about that final line, so powerful.
MathSciGuy – WOW you are able for forcibly come through my computer screen, into my brain, and MAKE me feel your angst! Brilliant!
2.01.2009
”What do we have, Doc?”
anesthesiologist
asks. “Mom doesn’t know.”
Three more times, question is asked.
In answer, bundle
placed in my arms, I see our
daughter. Just a quick
glance of newborn perfection.
Two hours later
”People in the waiting room.
Are they yours?” the nurse asks us.
James—thank you for this prompt. I tried to stay away from using the birth of my daughter, but that moment just kept coming back to me.
also thankful for the introduction of a new form. It was fun writing this moment as a Chōka.
Thanks for sharing, Jennifer! I liked “bundle placed in my arms” – in such a soft manner, life is changed forever!
A baby’s birth is the perfect moment for this writing! This line holds so much beauty, “glance of newborn perfection” Nothing like that feeling of a newborn.
Jennifer, I couldn’t get past a birth moment either today. I love the interesting details you share about the moment, like someone having to ask the question three times, and the “People in the waiting room. Are they yours?” made me smile. But sandwiched between those funny details is the bundle of a daughter “placed in my arms” and “newborn perfection” So lovely!
Jennifer, this absolutely took me back to my own daughter’s birth – and no, we chose not to know the sex until birth! I love how you interwove conversation into this beautiful poem!
I moved back to MI last summer, and while I am happy — some of my fondest memories were spending time at the apartment, looking out at Lake MI, knowing I was in love, and of course, grilling.
To Grill & To Love:
A Past Life in Chicago
I was grilling, ah
Balcony views of the lake
No need to travel
Love on it’s way over, glee
City sounds moving
I love Lake Michigan! The last line – “city sounds moving” – had me reflecting on some pleasant memories of my own in the Chicago summer 🙂
This is so fun, “Love on it’s way over, glee” – the word glee makes me smile. Your poem radiates joy.
Another Mittener! You’ll see in my poem that I, too, returned to wearing mittens in the Mitten after living for years in CA. But, CA wasn’t home! 🙂
Rachel, the sweet clipped lines seem to be singing joy over the rooftops. I love the word “glee” and that last line.
James — Thank you for your prompt and beautiful poem.
Decided to go with a Tanka and a vacation memory.
Mount Gorham, Maine
Climbing Mount Gorham
still ocean and dancing sun
in summer warmth spun
we pause a beat, breath in deep
bath in nature, sweet release
Such a liberating moment, Tammi! Beautiful imagery to describe it: “breath in deep / bath in nature, sweet release.”
I love how you followed “dancing sun” with “warmth spun” – awesome imagery & rhyming!
What a fabulous hike and view; yes, “still ocean and dancing sun” – absolutely picturesque, as your photo illustrates.
I love the short phrases at the end. I, too, went to a vacation memory.
Tammi, what a sweet photo. And what an amazing site on a mountain above the ocean. I love the sounds within of sun/spun and beat/deep/release
Tammi, what a wonderful photography and the way you’ve captured the ocean, sun and the way you pause to enjoy this spectacular moment is priceless! Gorgeous poem!
James,
Thanks for taking me back. There are lots of cool pools to drink from in my memory, but it is time I tried to put to words the dance with Jana.
JANA
I met a princess in 8th grade,
floating in a bubble of time
at a converted cafeteria dance,
“Reunited” playing for the last dance,
the slow dance.
I met a princess who took off her heels,
and gave me the gift of height
for the anointed moment of a short song,
and I gave her the quiet gift
of never forgetting,
a first forever.
Rex, thank you for your sweet poem! We always remember our firsts and this was such a great one to recall. While middle school years can be awkward there are those moments we remember positively forever. I appreciated the lines “I met a princess who took off her heels/and gave me the gift of height”–it was so endearing! Thank you for sharing!
The play on ‘height’ and a ‘short song’ is brilliant! LOVE IT!
James, you wrote the poem most of us wish were written ABOUT us! “the quiet gift/of never forgetting,”
Thankfully, my husband sometimes shares some of those firsts .. for the first time.
Thanks for evoking gratefulness for my husband.
Rex — Aw, man, that’s just a gem. I love the “gave me the gift of height” and the return of “never forgetting”… priceless. And the image of those good ol’ “converted cafeteria” moments. Gee, just really fun. Cool moment! Susie
Ah, what a sweet memory. I love that she “took off her heels, / and gave me the gift of height” That’s an important gift for an 8th grader. Those last lines are evocative and beautiful too.
Oh, Rex. What a wonderful memory-poem. The cafeteria, the princess who took off her heels for you, the joy…
Oh Rex, I don’t believe I’ve ever read a more romantic poem. Every line is a joy to read – I’ve read it at least 4 times now!
Rex, you’ve captured a precious grade school memory so wonderfully. Love the line “floating in a bubble of time” and “I gave her the quiet gift/of never forgetting”. Such a sweet look into a relatable 8th grade moment.
Hi James,
What fun! I love the tanka form. Your poem is a sensual treat!
I wrote tankas for 30 days back in 2015 and serendipity would have me post the poem from today’s date 9 years ago.
Cake Calls
melting in my mouth
her mama’s butter pound cake
tempting addiction
one slice never satisfied
because the whole cake called me
©Stacey L. Joy, April 7, 2015
Stacey,
The cake looks and sounds scrumptious. Laughed out loud to your last line “because the whole cake called me.”
That cake call not only you, Stacey Joy 🥰 It’s great to have this kind of “tempting addiction.”
Two more days! Two more days! That’s a song the twins and I began singing in 2014 while fasting on Mt. Pleasant. This poem is tempting my cake-loving addiction. 4.5 hours left until sundown. Your poem, Stacey, is calling to me and all my joy!
I have so many memories of food and my grandfather. I love the personification in the last line.
Stacey, pull up a chair for me. I’ll have a slice of that cake, too, but just as heavenly and delicious, I’ll have a slice of your poem that captures such wonderful memories of our mothers.
Hi, Stacey — LOL…”the whole cake called me”… that’s gold! Totally delightful image. I certainly know the “one slice never satisfied”…darn it. 🙂 Hugs, Susie
Oh that sounds absolutely divine; “the whole cake called me.”
Fun! I can imagine eating a whole pound cake, one nibble at a time. I’m curious who her and her mama are, but I can tell they are someone familiar and part of your life.
I had a best friend named Kicheko (Kiki) when I was in elementary school and her mama made the best cake I had ever tasted. When I realized she baked them REGULARLY, I knew I would always suffer from the “cake call” but of course she wouldn’t let me have more than a few slices. 💛
Haha! I love that. Cake call.
Oh, yes, Stacey. Some treats just demand MORE. I, too, have felt the cake-call!
What a fun poem, Stacey. “Mama’s butter pound cake” says it all. I can hear that strong calling! Delicious!
Snapshot
By Mo Daley 4/7/24
When we all gather
As a family, I am
In my element,
But why do I always fail
To stop time and take a pic?
Mo,
You’ve totally captured the dilemma with photos and quality family time. Do you take a picture to remember the moment and thereby remove yourself from the moment? Or do you stay in the moment? I find myself in that quandary all the time.
Mo, I am with you! But I believe it’s a sweet pleasure to hold those memories in our minds and hearts without the camera documenting it. We are in a time where we spend too much time taking photos instead of capturing the love with our eyes and hearts.
🌺
I have that same problem. I love that you ask a question at the end. I found myself answering.
That’s ’cause you’re busy living life! You’re poetry paints pictures, just like Plutarch said they would. So, keep enjoying life and let someone else take the photos. On the other hand, I know what you mean. My brother is the photographer in our family and we have almost no photos of him. He’s having a milestone birthday this year and we’re having a tough time pulling together a slide show that includes more than pictures HE has taken of events so special in his life.
You’re poetic snapshots will do for now. Thanks for sharing.
You are holding these snapshots in your heart, I know! I love the simplicity and heart of “in my element.”
Haha! Isn’t that the truth!? I’m going to be with our whole family next month, and I feel like I need a reminder too because, as rare as we’re all together, we don’t always get photos. The memories can’t be taken away though!
I am a huge fan of your poetry, Mo, and this one is right up there! “But why do I always fail to stop time and take a pic?” Love it
There are so many moments when I forget to take the photo. When you’re happy to be with family, it’s easy to forget. Very relatable poem!
Hi James! Haven’t and wont’ be able to get here to often this month but I’m glad I had time today ~ your Chicago moment was perfect. I could feel the thrill, the sweetness. I couldn’t pick just one moment but here’s a sampling. I think even in the sad moments, there are snatches of light. Or maybe the light washes over everything even when we don’t know it.
a memoir in moments
after tears and tears
7 years of bitter tears
soft amber light streams
through texas stained glass windows
on the child in my arms.
and later, more tears
unexpected, bitter tears,
tossed from heaven’s blue
left abandoned and reviled
with a child in my arms.
we make it through
and then, unforeseen
alone in Boston Chicken,
patiently he waits,
baseball cap and folded hands.
I know then and she does too.
Kazakstani light
leads us to a crowded crib,
brightly painted walls
where a small, blue-eyed toddler
waits for us to come for him.
my family. together at last.
Ann,
Your poem is beautiful and heart wrenching. The way you have incorporated light streaming through the stained glass windows is a powerful image. I am glad to hear your family is together.
GORGEOUS! Absolutely amazing how you bring forward this cinematic poem within the syllabic constraints. I love “baseball cap and folded hands,” the most. Great to read you here again, Ann.
Wow, Ann, so powerful. This sparse form brings so many moments and also questions. I want to hear more about each stanza. You have given us light and longing for more.
The brevity of these lines, so full of deep emotion – really, breathtaking.
James, thank you for this idea of finding a joyful moment. I forgot the Choka and tanka because I remembered Glenda’s haiku sonnet yesterday, so I went there, but I am definitely going to try a Choka next. Your sweet moment with the exact time cements the deal. I love the “finger stayed my lips”
Seattle, 1:04 p.m.
it happened that second
in time, after much pushing
groaning and sweating
the world grew by one
and I knew reality
would never be the same
another life
another personality
our family has grown
the world has grown
then I held you as your
bright eyes gleamed
and I was a new person
a grammy first
Denise,
I feel this grammy love. It truly does grow our hearts. A new birth in a grandchild, a rebirth for grammy. That’s so lovely.
Denise,
I can feel the joy in your poem. While I am not a grandparent, I could feel the love in your poem These lines: “The world has grown” and “I am a new person” really show how beautiful and life changing a baby is to the whole family.
“a grammy first” – absolutely spectacular moment, truly glorious, that you have captured beautifully in your haiku sonnet. Love this!
Oh, Denise, what a moment! I shared the moment when my first child was born, and you devoted the haiku sonnet to your grandchild’s birth. You are such a wonderful, caring grammy!
Love these lines:
” the world has grown
then I held you as your
bright eyes gleamed
and I was a new person
a grammy first”
Denise, I love how you document this important birth with your title. Love “bright eyes gleamed” and ” a grammy first”. Precious poem.
the moment
before the
moment
before
the
mom
ent
be
fo
r
e
_____________________________________________
Thanks, James! (And I hope the end of your year is less stressful for you! The first year is tough, but, you’ll get through, just keep fightin’ the good fight, as they say. And poetry helps. Lots and lots of poetry, lol.) For my offering, I couldn’t shake the phrase “the moment before” and just played around with it, almost like a “today is yesterday’s tomorrow” kinda thing.
Hi Scott – thank you for sharing this with us. I’m glad you couldn’t shake the phrase because it helped you bring us this wonderful piece. I love the visual aspect – it somehow fits this perfectly. The way “moment before” get diced up at the end is also delightful. This is such a cool poem!
This is great Scott. Youv’ve reminded me that at the root of poetry is word play. Very clever.
Scott,
I love the formatting of this poem and reminder that even few words have power.
I am thinking about how giddy I feel when I am anticipating something momentous and joyful…your poem is a vivid celebration of this feeling, I think. Love its shape, too.
LOVE. Stunning. So wonderful for the classroom to model the way words and letters are art forms.
Scott — That was fun… and just the right phrase to give us pause at this
m
o
m
e
n
t
Hugs, Susie
Scott, what a cool breakdown of the “moment before ” Your poem made me to think about the words and pronunciation.
be
fo
r
e
“Before” ends with a silent /e/, and it gives me not only the pause, but also a realization of whatever happens to us needs some silent reflection.
Scott, sweet concrete poem. I enjoyed reading “the moment before” over and over until it disappears.
Scott – such fun looking at your poem and then reading it . . . what do you call this style? I’d love to try it.
Judi, I call it a happy accident, lol. The “concreteness” of it came only after I was playing with the repetition. 🙂
March, 2024
We sure surprised you
Private dinner at the Ritz
Fireworks and country music
Cherished memories
Seven high school friends
In Dallas to celebrate
Turning 60 rocked!
Smiles, music, laughter and love
Unbreakable bonds
Heidi, this sounds wonderful! Your poem speaks volumes about your longstanding friendships. I hope my friends are this good to me!
This made me happy. It made look forward to something similar with my own friends from high school. Also, jealous of dinner at the Ritz 😉
That sounds like a perfect way to celebrate. I loved “turning 60 rocked!”
Heidi, fun! You have captured this sweet event so well with the details of the surprise. “Unbreakable bonds” indeed.
James,
Ive been thinking about the prompt title in terms of the inspiration. Often I think of things better left unsaid as negatives but didn’t want to go there, so I took inspiration from time w/ my grandson Ezra and videos my daughter-in-law sends me of Ezra. The photo in the Canva is from Easter. I pixilated it to protect Ezra’s privacy.
Bebop-ping Baby
do you feel the
rhythm of history
coursing through
your veins & moving
your bebop-ping
feet in synch with
your ancestors who
broke free from their
enslavers’ chains?
as you climb
the toddler ladder
stand atop its
toy platform
spread your toffee
arms wide twirl
to see the horizon
& show the world
your joyful success
i wonder what
kind of dance
awaits your big
boy body as you
grow into a man
and reach each
rung on life’s
ladder toward an
uncertain future
Glenda Funk
4-7-24
Oh my, this is so precious! The musicality and rhythm that weaves throughout these lines. I am particularly smitten with your question,
Glenda, oh, the wonder! The wonder of the future we hold so hopefully as we gaze at our grandchildren – – what will each year hold? Who will they become as they grow and change over time? And when the time comes, will Heaven hold passes for us on their special days to have a seat at their weddings, their graduations, their special days ~ just to scratch the itch to know? I hope so.
Glenda — You ask the questions I have been pondering with my family…what will the future be for this strong little ones…sooo “uncertain” and yet their very strength and the love we pour on them will give them muscle we maybe never had. I’m hopeful and terrified at the same time. Hug on that little cutie pie! Susie
Glenda, first, I want to tank you for keeping up with Ezra’s privacy. I, too, always care about it and never post my grandkids pictures without asking their parents. You are a master of the title, have I told you that? Love “Bebop-ping Baby”! The question in the beginning seems rhetorical, but carries so much weight and importance. The imagery in the second stanza allows me to see the child atop “the toddler ladder.” Your worry/wonder about the uncertain future is something very relatable. When I talk talk to my sisters, we often mention that we had seen some good times at least, and wonder what the future holds for our grandchildren.
Oh, my your past, present and future stanzas of dear Ezra’s life ask some important questions. I love that second stanza that I can envision with “toffee / arms wide twirl” I can just see him showing the world his success.
Glenda– these lines glow–
“spread your toffee
arms wide twirl”
I can see him!
Glenda, your poem is absolutely precious. I love how you build your poem through these three stanzas from breaking the “enslavers’ chains” to “spread your toffee/arms wide” to “an/uncertain future” I was completely pulled into the flow of your poem. I can hear your love and your desire to not only see your grandson grow but to also see him be protected from the evils and hate that exist in our world. Outstanding word choice throughout. Truly beautiful poem.
Hi, James, thank you for the inspiration! I know how hard the first year at school it is, and I hear you. Hang in the there—you almost made it till the first finish line. It will get easier, maybe not emotionally, but in terms of balancing the workload it will. I appreciate your prompt allowing us to think about a bright moment in our lives. Your poem is so gentle and romantic. Thank you for sharing this magical moment with us! Happy Sunday!
Here is mine:
Friday, September 9, 6:45 a.m.
I can’t describe how
It felt holding you for the
First time in my arms—
The entire new world right there—
Let the worries wait for now.
Leilya,
Your last line ‘let the worries wait for now’ struck me because it is so hard to not worry about children and be present in the moments. It is a gentle reminder to pause.
Such a precious moment – “the entire new world right there” is an amazing line. So big based on something so tiny <3
Leilya, this is such a tender moment and sums up the feeling of holding that new child for the first time so beautifully – that whole world in such a tiny being – what a marvelous and special time.
Leilya, the world stopped, and your worries waited upon the first holding. You show us that all the rest will indeed wait. Time is fleeting when we think of those we love and not those things we have to do.
That last line, “Let the worries wait for now” – it is as if we have no worries whatsoever when there is a baby in our arms. This is lovely.
“The entire new world right there–” Beautiful! A few of us wrote about precious baby bundles today. I love that last line too!
Leilya, I love how you end your poem with “Let the worries wait for now.” I can hear the love and joy in every word of your poem. Beautiful!
Leilya,
This tender moment is like a time machine to the past inviting me to relive those first when we hold our babes. I wish I could have lived that last line, but life was so stressful when both my children were born that I was also overcome w/ worry and anxiety.
unsaid
1995
hospital bed rolls away
my mom is in it
no “i love you,” just a head tap
and she never woke again.
~Susan Ahlbrand
7 April 2024
Thank you Susan. This little poem is just full of so much left unsaid. Perhaps a head tap can say more than words were meant to say- a love that goes beyond language. Thank you for sharing such powerful verse.
Oh this is so powerful. It made me think of my last moment with my little brother last year. I said I love you but didn’t give the tap and wish I would have. The tap is the I love you. And they know.
Oh, Susan! What a moment! That “head tap” was everything. Hugs to you!
Susan, it’s amazing how such a short, rule bound poem can say so much, more than all the description in the world. Love the year as its own line and the title. *hugs*
Susan – thank you for sharing this. What got me was “just a head tap.” My mom does that, but you know what it means.
Powerful poem. I keep going back to the “head tap.”
This is so precious; the head tap is ‘i love you,” I think. That last line is holds so much grief in just five small words, “and she never woke again.”
Oh, Susan, I can see when you considered what was left unsaid, this memory would be so clear in your mind. The “hospital bed rolls away” is so sad.
Oh, Susan, your poem is so heartbreaking. The unsaid words are often so painful to remember. I like the specific focus of your poem with the year and the hospital bed rolling away. Truly powerful poem, but I’m so sorry for your loss and for the words you wished you’d said.
Susan,
So sorry. Her rolling away in the bed adds to the sadness and separation.
Susan, this is so powerful and so heartbreaking, that lowercase “i” speaks volumes and the final line “and she never woke again” is so heartrending. I’m so sorry for this.
Margaret Simon’s poem gave me this idea…
Pen in hand, I start
Free–writing in my journal.
Like flowing water,
Words wash over the white page.
When I stop, I see my heart.
Rita,
Your poem is mesmerizing, and the simile “like flowing water” creates really interesting imagery.
I love the simile and alliteration you worked into this gem of a poem.
I especially love the last line “when I stop, I see my heart”
So true about my poetry for me as well.
This is rad. Free writing has that ability, and you can better “see” yourself. Nice.
Thank you, Rita! I appreciate your short and sweet poem that speaks volumes about the process…I love the line “when I stop, I see my heart”. It reminds me of the idea of just free writing or flash drafts where you just write what comes to mind and it becomes quite a cathartic experience! Thank you for sharing!
This is beautiful. I always “see my heart” when I look back at my writing.
Rita, this is so lovely – – the writing that puts us in touch with our passions and our inner spirits. I think this is why we identify as writers. We know that tapping into who we are involves a pen, and I love the way you help take us there to your moment so we can see ourselves in it.
Oh, Rita, what a lovely poem about writing. “like flowing water / words wash over the white page” So beautiful! But that last line is what captures me today. What value to be able to write and then “see my heart.”
Rita, I love the focus and action of your poem. I adore the way you move to the final line: “When I stop, I see my heart.” Wow! Writing can be truly “heart” moment. Powerful Tanka.
Rita,
It gave me the impression of a stream uncovering gold from the current’s movement. Such is the way it works when we stumble upon meaning through words.
Thanks, James, for this peaceful prompt.
I hope you can savor the moments of peace and joy within the stress of your first year of teaching. Loooooong time teacher here also feeling the stress lately, so I’m going to remind myself to do that as well.
Your quiet dancing poem is beautiful. Thanks for sharing and hosting.
I ride in darkness
needing to hit a reset
I lock my bike up
walk down the steps to the springs
I swim into morning light
I adore your last line- swimming in springs bathed in light. Such a beautiful image comes to mind in such a simple and alluring way. There is an efficiency of language that I find lovely and expansive. Thank you for sharing.
Sharon, wow, the sensory appeal of your poem is magnificent. Love that final line! Gorgeous poem!
Thank you for your prompt, James. I took your suggestion, and if I counted correctly in my coffeeless state, I was able to achieve the Choka form (am I the only English teacher who struggles with syllables??) Again, thanks for your work and for this fun challenge.
We Refrain
in another realm,
another reality,
we say so much more
monday morning muse
pillow talk until the dawn
roadtrips ripe with more
more words more hard truths
more words more layers peeled
more confessions more
in reality
we are moored together
refraining so quietly
so so quietly
I love the play of more, more, then moored. This wistful poem ends with peace and patience.
Wow, I love how you show the meaning behind your title in your poem. I am so moved by your end. Separating “so so quietly” truly sets off the painful emotions of being together but not talking enough.
Wow! What a beautiful picture you paint with these words. Thanks for sharing and good luck as a first year teacher. Hang in there…it will be worth it!
The sun is setting
outside with my paints and my brush.
Try to capture red
pigment with intensity.
In peace I seize the colors!
James.Thank you for this structured Tanka poem. It is new to me and I love poems when I have to count syllables. I see that you have a background in graphic design and so I think you will understand my little poem. Good luck with teaching. You will love it!
The challenge of sunsets- how can we capture their beauty? Even when we create something totally wonderful and awe-inspiring, it just cannot quite mimic the sunset-not a photo or a painting or even a poem, but we try. We seize the opprotunity and like your poem, I think that is beauitful.
Susan,
Your poem is so beautiful. I’d love to see the paining.
Here is my oil pastel of RED. You can see I get carried away and it is red in color but more than a sunset.
Cool! I like the vibrancy of those colors! Here’s my abstract watercolor from this afternoon… Susie
Susan — We are kindred spirits today. I spent most of the day painting as well. It just poured sheets here, so I unlike you am sitting inside looking out at the dogwood blooming. I may need to “seize the colors” some more! Susie
Your painting is very refreshing and reminds me of the ocean kelp swaying. Lovely.
Thank you James for hosting this morning. Teaching is probably one of the hardest professions, but the most fulfilling. This is my 31st year teaching. You will have good days and bad, good years and bad. Remember why you became a teacher and it is worth it. The opportunity to help guide a life and show them how much they can do and how much they are worth is what it is all about. I love teaching poetry to my students. Tanka is one of the forms I have them do each year. Thank you for sharing the Choka. That was new to me so I will try it here, then share it with my students. Morning is my favorite time of the day.
Peaceful Mornings
Sitting on the porch
Fog moving through the mountains
Cows in the pasture
Birds singing all around me
Great way to begin the day.
A past memory
From my father-in-law’s house
Now warm morning breeze
Cup of tea in my hands
Sitting in my swing
Watching the lizards playing
Bees buzz around me
Birds calling to each other
Scent of flowers in the air
A new day is beginning
Here in sunny Florida
Sandra,
Thanks for sharing your peaceful morning.
I like slow unfolding of images, natural and domestic, a memory paired with the present.
I can see the fog and feel the gentle movement of the swing.
Watching lizards is a wonderful way to spend a day – their every movement, a poem! Wonderful to read this, Sandra.
Sandra, I feel the shift in temperatures and time as you move from the mountains and farmlands of the past to the tropical sunshine of the present. No matter where we are, the joy is in the memory and the gratitude of simply being here to enjoy it and live it.
James, that moment is beautiful and the tanka does the picture absolute justice. It’s the “finger” staying the “lips” for me. Perfect. I’m tapping your moment to celebrate another – one where two of my grad students (I thought I introduced them…they secretly were already dating) surprised me last night asking, “Will you officiate our wedding?” I said, “yes” and we celebrated over noodles. Will keep playing (I once journaled an entire year in haiku & tanka, but never played with the Chōka…dabbling here for a follow-up note to them
Love For Will & Jess, ‘24
Saturday friendship
under umbrellas & light,
a dozen Baldizon eggs
ready for a hard-boiled King.
Queens scramble for time,
keeping that notepad nearby:
seaweed salad &
slurping spoons of pho-beef-broth.
amor y aventura!
familiar friendship,
please say sim! oui! ¡Si!
with human togetherness
living ubuntu
a way for loving these kids
What is a decade
when writing our lives with them?
the money-tree plant
potted, tomorrow’s song bright –
bandaids & lipstick
passport stamped, marital joy.
April is for words –
a poem for you, this Chōka
Felicitations! Love, Frog
To be cliche, I cannot help but think “melting pot” and about soup and its nurturance- about the way it heals and about how soup is essentially communal. The poem is bursting with wholesomeness and a deep awareness. I keep coming back to each stanza enjoying the playfulness and feeling something like reverance.
Thank you for sharing.
Well Bryan, you poems cheer me (and often send me to the dictionary). What a delicious, rollicking romance! the money-tree plant/potted, tomorrow’s song bright –/ bandaids & lipstick/passport stamped, marital joy. Love it!
This line is amazing (the whole poem, actually, but…):
What is a decade
when writing our lives with them?
Wow!
I love your title and the fantastic imagery. I was really moved by your italicized question, and your final three lines sets the tone of this poem being a type of loving dedication to the people who truly matter to you. Loved “April is for words-” Gorgeous poem!
James–your poem sets a high bar–it is so lovely and so very touching. I was struggling to come up with –anything–that could compare. Then I thought of a moment in last week’s very adult tap class (nobody is under 55!) and recalled a moment when we were all completely in sync as we moved across the floor.
All Together Now
Tap dancing is noise
and joy, staccato movement
leaping from our hearts
through heels and toes to the floor.
When we move as one,
magic happens. We become
music, seizing joy
from the air that surrounds us.
Gayle Sands
4-7-2024
Since I’ve recently begun line dancing with a group of “mature women” I could relate to this feeling. There’s something magic when everyone is in step, creating a lovely dance. “staccato movements…” What helps me feel the energy. Great job.
Gayle,
This is beautiful.
I love
Brilliant.
I love the immediate turn from “noise” to a moment of joy celebrated in your poem! I love how you are able to capture that feeling of moving together and being aware that you are sharing that space.
Gayle – thank you for sharing this piece of poetic perfection. I can see and hear this moment with stark clarity. I adore the moves you make in your writing, especially the line “We become / music.” From a technical view, I like how you leave the reader lingering on the word become…something about is so moving. And, the line overall really resonates with me, and I think it’s a beautiful way to embody everything your poem expresses. Bravo this morning!
Gayle,
Dancing is its own language, isn’t it? “When we move as one” is such a beautiful, unifying image and line. More of this, please.
Gayle, becoming music and seizing joy from the air that surrounds you explains the inner feeling of satisfaction and gladness. I remember diving into the swimming pool as a child – – on that first dive in, I felt the same way…..I was so happy to be there, I just seized joy like that. Thanks for reminding me of those deep dives.
Gayle — I love how auditory this poem is..those dancing sounds can’t be anything but “joy.” Indeed!
Gayle, what a delightful poem full of music and tapping sounds. I loved your lines: “When we move as one,
magic happens. We become
music, seizing joy
from the air that surrounds us.”
I feel the joy! Beautiful poem!
Gayle,
I love the idea of seizing joy from the air that surrounds us. Makes me think of fireflies, only with much better rhythm. Joy in unison is such a cool picture to paint!
Hot sweetened coffee
An energy drink for you
Tiny flecks of light
A queen bed island for two
Stolen quiet as kids sleep
Such a cozy poem! I love the queen bed island and the tiny flecks of light that come as you are sipping your coffee.
“A queen bed island” – Oh, yes! This brought me back to when we had little ones and relished a few quiet moments in bed together before the “fun” began. Lovely!
Ashley – I couldn’t agree with Susan more…this is a very cozy poem. Coffee in bed during those quiet moments before the world awakens sounds like the perfect way to spend any morning. Thank you for making me want to crawl under the covers!
Ashley,
That image of “a queen bed island for two” needs no words. Sometimes it gets steamy in this virtual room!
What a sensual and beautiful moment you captured like a snapshot of true love. Thanks for this prompt.
A lavender pen
writes a poem with my hand,
a universal song.
I can speak without a voice.
I will write without a choice.
sweet lavender pen…helps me write too!
Margaret,
Your line ” I will write without a choice” packs so much into your brief poem about the power of writing. The need to write, the joy of writing, all of it comes as if it is without a choice because we are writers!
Margaret, This is beautiful. You capture that sense of abandonment when a favorite pen meets paper and you wind up with a page of surprises.
Margaret – this is a stunning addition to the day’s poetry. The notion of the pen using the hand to write really resonates with me, as does the final couplet – especially the final line. I have often envisioned writing as words and thoughts using me as a channel to be born on the page, and that I am simply compelled by some ethereal presence to bring those words to life. I love this poem so much – thank you!
Margaret, that couplet is oh, so perfect! And I love the visual of the personified pen.
Margaret, your rhyming at the last two lines creates a perfect couplet. Your poem and pen speaks for us , writers. “I can speak without a voice.
I will write without a choice.”
Thanks for the opportunity to be brief. It is the wit of my soul.
Tomorrow – 3:25pm
I’ve missed the sunshine
It doesn’t often shine here
And now the moon is coming
To block the daylight
It will be eclipsed.
It will be eclipsed. I love this joyful take on loosing more sunlight!
ooooh! Middle schoolers gonna go crazy! I’ll be with ya.
Hi Keith – I love your syllabic spin on the Tanka. The 5-7-7-5-5 form you use is a subtle departure, but it definitely changes the impact, especially with the terse final couplet. That kind of concision fits the subject of your poem perfectly. You’ve got me wanting to experiment with this form now – thank you!
Thank you, Keith! I was intrigued by the title as all the poems I have read so far have been recalling/connecting to a past moment. This will be a monumental event for many of us just at different times. I appreciate the double meaning with the last line, too!
James…so much to say here…I’ll try to condense my thoughts. I so understand the stress of your first year teaching. I am not in my first year, nor are most of my colleagues, and the stress is immense for us all. As is despair. However…we pull each other through. This is also what poetry does. It is a life raft, of sorts, always in the making. Your poem, this first try at a tanka, is stunningly beautiful. The moment is real and alive – I feel every word. I have never tried a Chōka before, so I am giving it a shot here. Thank you for such a beautiful start to this day.
Despite Dementia
So shall My word be that goes forth
from my Mouth;
it shall not return to Me void…
Isaiah 55:11
*******
She hasn’t spoken
for weeks, said the nursing staff
when I came that day.
You watched me, your blue eyes bright
as I took the tray
and pulled my chair close to yours.
Everything’s all right,
Grandma. I’m here. I’ll feed you.
Let’s say the blessing…
You bowed your head, closed your eyes
and to my surprise
you recited, without help
the Lord’s Prayer, word for word.
Fran, perfection! I am brought back to moments with my mom with dementia, not recalling our names but being able to sing Oh Holy Night without missing a beat. There was awe and peace in those moments and you captured that so well in your words. Thank you
Fran, what a blessed moment with your grandma here! It seems that she felt loved and safe with you to remember the prayer “word for word.” A miraculous moment!
a miracle and a perfect moment captured here. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. It’s beautiful.
This touches my heart in so many ways as we are in the beginning stages of dementia with my mother-in-law.
Oh, Fran, what a poignant poem and especially relatable to anyone caring for an older or dementia-riddled person. It’s those surprising moments that keep us going, knowing that on some deep level the person we love is with us still. Thank you for sharing this meaningful moment.
This poem really touched me, and yes, I shed a tear
My mother currently has dementia and it is such a difficult journey
I hope I can say similar words when the time comes. What a beautiful gift you gave her–
and she gave you!
Fran, this is so lovely.Such peace. Such simplicity. Really. I loved this!
Such a beautiful moment, Fran, and what a wonderful memory to carry forward for both of you. Making connections with those we love is the most powerful thing of all. And there’s no better connection to be had than with a grandmother.
Fran, talk about a tearful moment! This poem just takes us right to the edge of sadness and then delivers hope in the Lord’s Prayer remembrance. I teared up every time I saw that commercial at Christmas where the grandmother is rocking, not knowing any of the family coming in, sitting in the living room alone, and the granddaughter gets her and takes her on a drive singing the songs and brings her back to the memories. I kind of feel like dementia takes a fishing pole and some bait to meet the moments where they are and reel them in. And it sounds like you did this ~ like you knew exactly how to share in this moment and have your grandmother’s memory back, even for a few moments that day. I hope this, too, is part of the poetry memoir collection.
Fran — I love that even in the midst of such a brutal diagnosis, these powerful moments can happen. Research points heavily in the direction of music as a means of bringing us back together. I love that! Hugs, Susie
Fran—what a beautiful moment. Dementia is such a cruel thief…
James, the actions/visuals in your poem reveal so much. Thank you for taking us to our happy place. Here’s my Tanka with some speech.
I Do
Communication
Reveals unexpected note
“Welcome to our team,”
Superb opportunity
Exulting, I screamed, “I do!”
Communication is they key to so much, Juliette! I feel your exultation on being welcomed to the team. Congratulations on seizing the “superb opportunity”!
I love how short forms can pack a big punch of emotion. How “welcome to our team” is all you needed to hear.
Yes, ma’am! Love the enthusiasm…we all have it but don’t always exault…I love a good exualt like this one.
Juliette – your poem also reveals so much – I can feel the excitement bouncing off every line. This is certainly one of those “happy place” moments. Thank you for sharing this with us this morning.
James, Thank you for bringing a moment of joy to my morning! I needed this too! Your tanka’s last two lines were beautifully poignant and touching! I could feel the emotion of the moment and the stopping of time… thank you
I love counting syllables so I too write a tanka about my 40 day pilgrimage across Spain last year!
Santiago
Walking forty days
On ancient pilgrim’s pathway
Snow capped mountaintops
Through bright red poppy meadows
Tearful arrival – Disbelief!
Wow, what an experience. I bet it was other-worldly and I’m sure I would have shed a tear as well!
Christine, the contrast between the snow capped mountains and red poppy meadows is lovely (and more enticing than that wheelbarrow and chicken scenario!). This must have been a transformative experience. Beautiful!
Jus, gorgeous, Christine – what a wondrous trek! I could see all the beauty and feel the awe – and the tears, too.
I have known people who have done the Camino and they express the same tearful emotion. I love how you’ve made this small poem full of imagery.
Love the poppy meadow imagery and the “ancient pilgrim’s pathway”!
Your pilgrimage sounds amazing, Christine! How I miss “bright poppy meadows.” The view is incredible. The final line sums up this significant experience for you.
Wow! I can only imagine…so much packed into these lines. Those bright red poppy meadows sound wonderful. I’d walk through those!
I want to do this too! What a wonderful adventure. The bright red poppy meadows are calling me.
Christine – I really enjoy the way you effortlessly paint the images in your poem. The poppy meadows really come alive for me. I also love the feeling of such overwhelming beauty that it brings us to tears. There is nothing quite like the experience of shedding a tear out of joy, and you captured that within your words.
James, your poem invokes both serenity and intimacy beautifully. And thank you for offering a new poem form too – the Choka, which I will play around with later.
In morning quiet
The world not quite awakened
Stillness surrounds me
My thoughts clear; the day unplanned
A bird welcomes, singing spring
Oh the joy of an unplanned day! And to add to it birds singing spring.. you’ve captured such a joyful moment
I love the alliteration throughout and the use of “quiet” then “quite” – could share this with my students as a spelling exercise for those two words, lol. Your poem beautifully expresses the peace of mornings
These are moments I also cherish deeply, Jennifer. My thoughts are clearest early in the morning, and birdsong stirs my soul…as does this poem. It sings of bright promise.
An unplanned day is such a glorious gift!
My favorite time of day–and you’ve captured it.
Jennifer, I can’t believe you have “the day unplanned”! I know how rare these are. Beginning a beautiful Sunday with the bird singing is amazing. Enjoy!
I am at the tail end of spring break so have deliberately not scheduled. There are still things to do (too many). That said, that moment when you first awake and everything is/could still be unplanned is perfection.
Jennifer – I love everything about this! You wonderfully capture that early morning calm in a way that I can easily imagine the sights and smells and sounds. I feel like I’m sitting on a deck in the backyard, cup of coffee in hand, watching the sunrise. Thank you for participating today and offering us a 5-line slice of serenity.
Jennifer,
You’ve evoked my favorite time—quiet moments, and this poem describes my morning quiet time, except for the bird. It’s too damn cold here for birds.
Jennifer, I feel a sense of freedom in your words. Sometimes, just being present in the moment is the greatest sense of living. My husband often tells me that he’s thinking of “that dog cartoon” when we have moments like these. He saw a cartoon where a man is sitting next to his dog. The thought bubble on the man has deadlines, bills, work, etc…..the thought bubble on the dog is simply the dog and the man sitting next to each other. This is what I feel when reading your poem – the enjoyment of the moment,
Jennifer — Perfect moment indeed. Just to have “thoughts clear” is no small thing! A day without a plan…that’s cloud-walking, girl. I love it! Hugs, Susie
Thank you for the simplicity today James. “Dancing in the moonlight” and words not needed. Lovely feeling of peace. Looking forward to reading moments of wonderful, peaceful, and perfect today.
Then and Now
One day you told me
“In the mornings, in the bed,
when I hold you,
everything just goes quiet.
Something feels right and complete.”
Yesterday morning,
I feel like we returned there.
On that day I knew
it was like that for me too.
I held you and all was right.
Angie, your poem holds us in that same way – bringing quiet along with a feeling of completeness. There’s something about the two stanzas that reflect the two of you as well, that sits right.
So much love and reliance in this poem – such a celebration, Angie. It imparts such quiet joy and peace. A sense of “being.”
Sustaining love over a long period is hard. The quote in the first stanza brings me to a place of such peace with the one I love. “All was right.”
Angie, thank you for sharing such a peaceful moment when everything “feels right and complete.” These moments are precious. Both stanzas create a unison idea of your deep connection. Beautiful!
Angie, this poem captured those special moments that enable us to sustain a long-term relationship. These are the moments that hold us together when things feel like they’re falling apart. It’s impossible to always feel “right and complete”, but it’s the decision to muddle through the tough times that repeatedly bring us to these special times.Thanks for sharing.
Hi Angie – this is such a wonderful addition to my morning reading. It takes me back to my 20s when I could afford to spend an entire morning in bed with my partner just holding or being held. Ah…to be young and without responsibilities again! I enjoy the cyclical nature of your poem, and how the reader ends up where they began. It makes the whole feel piece feel – as you wrote – “right and complete.”
Angie, that satisfaction of everything being right and complete is a feeling that you describe so beautifully here – and sometimes the stars align in just the right way that we are awestruck with the power of togetherness. I love this.
James, thank you for hosting us today! As a fan of the short forms, I can’t wait to write more of these! Your poem paints the scene of perfect silence when the love moment is so strong
you just want that to last forever. It’s beautiful! My brother’s wedding yesterday brought memories of my own 16 years ago for today’s poem.
Hallelujah!
on my way down the
aisle, I leaned into the sound
booth and grinned at my brother
Let’s change the music!
Only the recessional.
The Hallelujah Chorus
seemed far more fitting
an eleventh-hour switch-hit
change at the bottom
of the ninth inning
might bring a grand-slam homerun
amused wedding guests chuckled
three ministers laughed
as we made our way into
happily ever after
Kim! I love everything about this – the eleventh hour switch hit, the amused guests, and most especially making your way into happily ever after. Such a grand-slam finale!
What a great memory from your wedding! I love “as we made our way into / happily ever after”
Kim–What a perfect start to my morning–and a perfect pitch for the rest of your life! What a wonderful memory to share.
Oh Kim – how perfect! And how Kim, your making this last minute suggestion! I think I would have cried at the joyous strains of The Hallelujah chorus on this occasion. I am nearly crying now, thinking of the wonder of it all. Congratulations to your brother and his bride!
FABULOUS! I want to be there in that moment with you for the giggles, the triumph, the celebration.
Thank you for sharing this memory, Kim! “Let’s change the music!” while walking down the aisle sounds just like you )) The final stanza made me smile too. Glorious!
I believe if I had been a guest at your wedding I would not only have found The Halleluja Chorus fitting but also joyous.Changing something up like that at the last minute makes me believe you and your husband have a wonderful and at times surprising life.
Oh, Kim, you nailed this. I picture the scene and I love the last line. What an uplifting share.
Hello Kim – I love your lighthearted and whimsical approach to the prompt. There is a real sense of joy in every word – I can imagine this being one of the (if not the) most memorable moments of the whole wedding. Thank you for bringing this scene to life for us!
Oh my gosh, Kim! You are a stitch! I just love that baseball images…the 9th inning switcheroo! Hallelujah! Wonderful…just absolutely wonderful! Laughed out loud and loved you more. Susie
Kim, what a wonderful moment this must have been. I love how you show the actions, the emotions and reactions through your choice of words. Your end is definitely the most important “note”. Love your poem’s title, too.
Thanks for the inspiration, James, and good luck with the rest of your first year. Take it day by day. I, too, went Tanka, for a moment of quiet beauty.
Kevin
Balanced at the top
of the mountain, looking down
in silence, no words
filled the gap, no words needed,
as we drank in the valley
The top of a mountain, silent and isolated, seems like a great place to be right now – especially since I’m typing this having stolen a minute in my packed AP Language class.
Top of a mountain, arguably the best place for peace. The repetition of “no words” necessary here.
I love the idea of drinking in the valley. As a fellow hiker I can truly relate to that feeling. Ahhhh
no words needed and yet we do need to read/hear “drank in the valley” as they are so satisfying. Beautiful.
LOVE that line! In and out of context it is both a lack of action and an opportunity for action!.
After the climb, there is nothing like the view. Silence and the sensual word drank capture that feeling of all is well with the world.
Hi Kevin – thank you for sharing this morning. This poem reminds me of so many mornings I have spent just enjoying the peace and quiet before the rest of the world wakes up. You evoke a real sense of calm and beauty in your words – the kind of respite we all probably need a bit more of in our lives.
Kevin — I love the poise and grace of this moment…I “drank [it] in, you might say. Lovely. Susie
Kevin,
Such a beautiful description of being united with someone in silence, admiring nature.
Love this:
Thanks for sharing.
James, thanks for being here. Isn’t teaching a kick? I’ve been in this game a long time and have seen people come into the profession from other careers or even as a first career and find out that it’s not something they want to continue to handle. The variables are tremendous, the problem-solving never ends…but there is beauty and satisfaction to be found too. I wish you well as you figure things out. I hope you have someone to talk things over with. It really helps growth when you can reflect aloud.
I loved your tanka–what a great last line! And, I’ve never heard of a Choka before. I love the rhythm of 5-7-5. So, a choka appeals to me.
far from my birthplace
I am exploring the world
A blue ferry ride
from Rafina to Andros
a sweaty bus ride
up and over the island’s
dry desert backbone
to a platia
overlooking a beach below
my destination.
behind me a sign in Greek
I’ll take just a peek
a few dracma (now Euro)
museum entrance
wandering through galleries
paintings and sculpture
tapestries and woven cloth
delicate or rough
local artisans proud work
every piece speaks
to me – welcoming me home
Linda, I love the rhyme in these lines. Thank you for taking us along for the ride!
I love the thought of each artist is welcoming you home. There is such warmth in these words
You are so right about how the rhythm of 5, 7, 5 can carry a poem. This one takes me back to Greece that was one of the most amazing travel experiences I’ve ever had.
What a beautiful picture you paint.
Hi Linda – thank you for being here and contributing this morning. I love the simple yet powerful imagery you have in your poem. Lines like “blue ferry ride” and “dry desert backbone” are doing a lot of work bringing your poem to life in just three words. There are three lines toward the end – “paintings and sculpture / tapestries and woven cloth
/ delicate or rough” – that really jumped out at me. For a moment, I felt like I was walking through that gallery too.
Linda,
Reading this magical journey poem I can’t help but think of all the museums I’ve visited and how one doesn’t need spoken language to experience the language of art. Stunning poem.
I love when the art of a place welcomes us home. I feel like this when I visit the coastal islands, with the colors of Seaspray and blue-gray and sand. Thank you for reminding me that home is felt in art’s culture.
Oh, I love that you felt the artisans’ work welcoming you home. I like the juxtaposition of the first and last lines. Greece is not your birthplace, and it makes me want to learn more about it feeling home–Is it the universality of the artwork, the hospitality, perhaps even some ethnic connections?
Hey James! Welcome to teaching. It’s my 3rd year at my current school and I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing! lol
Thank you for this prompt. It reminds me of 30 second dance parties, inspired by Grey’s Anatomy, that I would do in college to celebrate small wins. My poem has nothing to do with those though.
12:10 AM, January 8
You opened the door,
I stepped into a bear hug
Too long overdue,
Fate and chance high-fived, rejoiced.
The world spun a bit smoother.
Oh, that’s lovely…just where I’d want to be. I can connect with this feeling.
Love the personification of fate and chance here and the world spinning a bit smoother. Those “bear hugs” are so needed in this life. Thanks for sharing!
Saba, I love both the 12:10 AM poem and the image of your 30 second dance parties – both celebrate in their own ways.
I want to steal that last line. The feeling of a long overdue bear hug is just right.
Saba,
Yes! A long overdue greeting begins w/ an embrace. No words needed.
Saba, what a beautiful. Your poem sounds like home to me.