Welcome to Day 1 of the June Open Write. If you have written with us before, welcome back. If you are joining us for the first time, you are in the kind, capable hands of today’s host, so just read the prompt below and then, when you are ready, write in the comment section below. We do ask that if you write, in the spirit of reciprocity, you respond to three or more writers. To learn more about the Open Write, click here.
Our Host
Inspiration
Friends…what about them right? Well, Bill Withers, Andrew Gold, Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell, Randy Newman, The Rembrandts, Dionne Warwick, TLC, The Jackson 5, Whodini, and Zack Attack are just a few artists who have penned friendship songs. Are you really a “good” friend? Growing up, I had a difficult time making friends because I was quiet and shy. But as I have aged and waded in the pool of friends and associates, I still consider my one friend from elementary school my best friend. We don’t talk every day, but somehow in our wiser years, we have become closer.
Process
How do you define friendship? What would an ideal friendship be like for you? What do your friendships currently look like? Do you need to reconcile a friendship? What about making new ones? These are some questions that may open up old wounds or heal new ones. Reflect on your answers to give you some inspiration for this moment. This poem is in homage to friends, the ones you made, the ones lost, and the ones you wish you had. Even imaginary friends are allowed here.
Brainstorm a list of songs about friendship and pick one that speaks to you. Borrow a line, chorus, or hook that resonates with you and take off with it. Consider the thoughts and feelings you have when you picked the lines. There’s no particular poetic form, just go with the flow. Use the line or lines anywhere in your poem. Think, write, create, GO!
Jessica’s Poem
Friends Forever
By Jessica Wiley
Elementary school daze
will leave you in a haze.
Coming of age,
too afraid to take the stage.
But then I turn around and there you are,
Rooting me on when the world sees bizarre.
Our past is history, but our story is preserved in amber,
Navigating life with no shoes, maneuvering over the rocks we clamber.
From meeting interesting strangers to awkward friend boyfriends,
To years later weddings, graduations, and limited weekends.
Busyness was the third wheel but no matter how much time passed,
We picked back up where we left off; roles were never recast.
TLC sings “Sometimes you have to choose and then you’ll see” (line 38)
It’s never a dull moment, forever with the Bestie.
TLC. “What About Your Friends.” TLC, 1992, https://genius.com/Tlc-what-about-your-friends-lyrics
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.
Jessica, thank you for this fun prompt. I love the idea of this prompt. Wanted to honor my many friends from my very small elementary school.
Baker friends
Always welcoming
Kind to the new kid
Encouraging me to join the fun
Running around that small playground
DeAnna,
It’s sad that Baker is no longer open–every kid I know who went there loved it! A fond remembrance!
Such a wonderful use of acrostic! I love the way each line is a little longer, growing, like friendship.
Jessica, thank you for this! I want to return to this when I’m not so tired. I was determined to write tonight, so thank you for the invite!
To Sam
Silly little kids
aged into a fine romance
miracle of fate
Rachelle,
What a sweet tribute to Sam.
Rachelle,
You have what others dream of! A sweet tribute, indeed.
Such a sweet haiku! Lucky you!
Thank you, Jessica, for inviting us to write about friendship tonight. I have had profound, precious friendships in my life. But I have not always been able to sustain them–or be the person I might have been–in times of need. Your prompt led me into examining at least a little of this. Thank you.
Lean on me —
oh no
I meant tilt //
gently in my direction
I’ll give you a >> pop <<
boing !!
to right yourself
but I am not to be trusted
as the rock
of friendship ^^^
I am
shifting sand ~~
Wow, Allison . . . such few lines with such power. The distinction between leaning and tilting is huge and I never thought of it.
The shifting sand versus rock thing is a perfect image.
I am certain you are a great friend, but the frank owning of being shifting sand is such an honest look at yourself.
Thank you, Susan, for hearing/feeling me.
Allison,
I so feel seen in your lines. I often wonder if it is my extreme introversion that causes it, but so many of your lines are spot on: “I meant tilt// / gently in my direction” and “I am shifting sand~~” hit particularly well. Perhaps if I hadn’t chosen a profession that takes all of my social energy… Thank you for the wonderful poem!
Oh Cara, I hear you! I often tell my husband in the evenings that I am all “talked out.” Teachers expel social energy into our students. Maybe our depletion is felt in other aspects of our lives.
Allison, thanks for sharing this truth today. I think I am different things for different friendships. At times I can be the rock and other friendships I’m the shifting sand. I (we) can contain multitudes, right? I love the way you poem prompted me to think about the roles we play in our friendships.
Alison,
Very profound of you to know the true strength of self. However, I am sure you are a rock to the to right friend/s.
Whew, this raw and straight-forward self-reflection hits hard. I wonder if your friends would see you differently and maybe you’re harder on yourself that you should be. I love the acceptance you give yourself, that’s more important than what any friend might think of you. This quote by Roy T. Bennett feels perfect right now: What other people think and say about you is none of your business.
I would love to be around your shifting sand! 💛
Oh, I love that quote! Thank you, Stacey.
I suspect you are being far too hard on yourself – but, I adore the honesty of
“I meant tilt //
gently in my direction”
I suspect that desire for ’tilt, only, please’ is also known as self-preservation, self-care.
branches understand
running late, rain check, I can’t
rooted memories
thank you for hosting Jessica
thank you teacher-poets for welcoming my students
thank you students for sharing your words in this space
thank you for this all Sarah D
Stefani, I’m intrigued by your choice of “branches”–then loving your circle back with “rooted.” Thank you.
Stefani, I love the way “rooted memories” makes me think. I was just organizing old papers and journals today, and some rooted memories got re-exposed. Thanks for this.
“rooted memories” – how I adore these two words paired together.
Jessica, thank you for this prompt. It has me thinking all kinds of friendship thoughts today–from first grade when I disappointed Joanne by being too scared to tell the teacher she had to go to the bathroom before she wet her pants to reminiscing about my best friend, the woman-of-honor in my wedding, whom I’m going to see next week. And many friends in between. Today I tried out my new poetry magnets and wrote a note of encouragement for my friend who is going through some hard times right now.
This is wonderful, Denise. “Shake not your relentless smile” is terrific.
Thank you for your kind and encouraging poem, Denise! Love that you created it with magnets. Like Mo earlier, I am amazed by “shake not your relentless smile.” Beautiful!
Denise, I love both your poem (the support in staying strong and the gentle understanding) and also your backdrop of friendships through your life – how wonderful to remain connected to such beautiful women!
Maybe we’re all saying this, but “Shake not your relentless smile” is amazing. I might carry it as my mantra into the coming year. THANK YOU.
Denise,
I love this–I used to have poetry magnets and now I want to get new ones! I love the message and the gentle near heart shape the words take–especially “know your gentle understanding” and “shake not your relentless smile.” Thank you for sharing!
Denise, this is pure love and support! I love the opening:
If I received a loving message like this, I would instantly feel your support. I hope she gets through these hard times soon. Thank God for you!
🤗
Denise, the clarity of that opening line – ‘stand strong my sister’ – really speaks to the power of friendship. Love your magnet poetry!
Thankfully, my school year is done (but for packing up my room). This is a timely prompt given the help a wonderful friend offered to save my sanity this last week. She knows who she is!!
For D.
“With a Little Help From My Friends”
–The Beatles
With the end of the year finally upon me
a sense of loss is accompanied by a
little bit of
helplessness brought on
from the nonstop slog of grading piles of college portfolios.
My friend reached out a helping hand.
Friends like you make the world a better place.
I thank you for your selflessness,
getting me out from a formidable mountain
by offering assistance
with a mundane but time consuming task.
A light shone–finally–giving me a
little hope that I could get it all done, with a bit of
help from an invaluable friend.
Oh, that formidable mountain! So many of us can relate to that. You are lucky to have such a thoughtful friend!
Cara, I retired from teaching long ago but my daughter is in the thick of it. Your poem reminds me of the nonstop slog of grading piles. It is wonderful to have support of friendship and hope to get you through. I like the refrain you chose from the Beatles.
Cara, I love how a poetry form (in this case your acrostic) can tighten thoughts. I hope you can share this with your “invaluable friend.” <3 <3
This is so sweet, Cara, and now that song is stuck in my head (which isn’t a bad thing). I love how your poem highlights that friendships aren’t about grand gestures but simply “offering assistance / with a mundane [..] task” is the sign of a true friend.
Cara,
What a beautiful poem. Glad you have a friend who is willing to see a need and reach out to help. I bet she thought she was offering to help pack, not knowing you needed so much more. 💖💜💖
You saved my sanity. Thank you, my friend. <3 <3 <3
So glad I could help. Honestly, I thought I would be helping you pack like in years past.
A golden shovel with your song line was a fabulous idea for friendship poetry! Your poem really speaks to the power of help from our friends. I love
This image of light breaking through is just lovely.
Hello Jessica,
Thank you for the prompt and wonderful poem that you wrote, I personally am not a poet by any stretch of the imagination and I have very little to no experience doing so but I’m going to take a stab at it. The song I chose was Faith Hill’s “There You’ll Be,” the line was “Cause I always saw in you my light, my strength.” I’ve made many friends over the years now as I’m looking 40 in the near future, and as important as all of them have been for me, after doing some research and deep thought I came to the realization that my sisters and mother were always the constant for me. So I guess I have many friends, but my two sisters and mother I would consider my best friends and this was a song I listen to quite a bit in high school. Here it goes!
Standing in front of your mirror,
Oversized clothes that dragged on the floor,
Pretending to put on makeup,
While you were putting on more.
The things you would do,
Leaving your invisible mark,
Brushing my hair,
Saving me from the dark.
Kisses like candy,
Band-Aids for all,
Cookies at PTA,
Lunch packing,
Stories read,
The mall!
Perfection was you,
Most beautiful, elegant, and strong,
Homework helper,
Fieldtrip friend,
You could do nothing wrong.
Never wanted for anything,
You made sure of that,
At every sporting event,
Cheering not way in the back.
At all big life events, you were there first,
Dances, Graduations, Weddings, and my children’s births.
Now, everything you are to me,
My four girls also see your spark,
All the things you do,
Still leaving your invisible mark.
Kisses still like candy,
(Since that’s all you give them),
Stories still being read,
Now you get to be a best friend.
Perfection you still are,
Still beautiful, elegant, and strong,
Rides to practice, at every game,
For my girls, you do nothing wrong.
Knowing then, what I know now,
Younger years, I kept you at arms length,
Life now has meaning,
“Cause I always saw in you my light . . . my strength.”
Maegan, poetry is just an expression of words, and these words that you shares about your mother and your two sisters are golden! Family can be friends as well! I’m struck by the words from your last stance, especially these lines: “knowing then, what I know now,”…some consider that an afterthought too late, but this straight from the heart. Thank you for sharing today!
Megan,
Welcome and thank you for sharing your lovely poem here. I’m so glad I found it.
“Leaving your invisible mark…
brushing my hair
saving me from the invisible dark” was stunning.
I connected to the line “younger years, I kept you at arm’s length” especially, as my mother and I had (too many) difficult years.
Your poem helped me feel and think. Thank you.
This is a beautiful poem. I love the line “Leaving your invisible mark,” – and think, wow, this is a great instigation all its own…what invisible marks do we leave on others? do they leave on us? I hope you will share this with your sisters and mom – this poem is a treasure. (And, yes, you are a poet.)
[Note: Every day should be Arbor Day…every day is a day for friends.]
FRIENDSHIP
A reciprocal agreement
sometimes spoken,
often not;
born of an amniotic medium
of affection, interest, style, intellect, curiosity;
thirsty roots, some broken branches,
thriving on nourishment,
communicating symbiosis,
a give and take of love,
an authenticity that threads the fibers of longevity,
the oak.
The oak that shades
the understory,
stands as the foundation
for the nests of delicate birds,
fledglings that return year after year.
The oaks, friends,
send down roots,
bend in tornadic winds,
grow is width and tall stature, a reach,
through droughts and seasons
that test grit
and run love through phloem
that assures life.
Family and friend,
when combined stand as the ancient baobab,
unparalleled organism,
veritable repository of water,
living through the wash of each other’s
words, joys, hopes, angers, sorrows;
we want for each other
love
that quenches each breath;
we’ve chosen each other
over the years,
as we layered on the bark of age,
the burls of complex moments,
the leaves that comfort our feet
in the autumn of our lives.
by Susie Morice, June 27, 2023©
Ahhh Susie, the nature of friendship! I love your words here! Your opening lines,
“A reciprocal agreement
sometimes spoken,
often not;”
remind me of how do friendship even form? Is it a question or an experiment (experience)? Your poem is so full of vivid language that dance in the wind. Thank you for sharing today!
Susie, I have such an affinity for trees and connect immediately to your poem today (Yes! All days should be arbor days!). The combination of family and friend in comparison to the baobab, a “repository of water,” allowing nourishment and life really speaks to what friendship and family is all about. Beautiful!
Susie, I love this extended metaphor that you’ve crafted! “[T]he bark of age, / the burls of complex moments, / the leaves that comfort our feet / in the autumn of our lives” is simply beautiful! (And I just wanted to thank you, too, for all the comments, encouragement, and support you’ve given me since I “started” posting on Ethical ELA. You were the very first commenter on my very first poem here! And I am so grateful to you!)
Oh, this poem is beautiful! Perfect metaphors! I love the fact that friendships are “chosen…over the years” because our chosen family is often times are safest place to be.
Lovely, Susie!🌳
Absolutely love how you have woven nature and friendship – specifically, oaks as metaphor…this idea of
“The oak that shades
the understory,”
“The oaks, friends,
send down roots,”
I need my oaks, my dearest friends. They are life-giving, “quenches each breath.”
Susie, wow, I love how you capture the strength of a true friendship and extend this metaphor through your oak tree and more to illustrate the wonderful power a lasting bond of love can have. Your final two lines were pure genius “the leaves that comfort our feet
in the autumn of our lives.” Gorgeous and powerful poem!
Thank you for this prompt. Here is a tribute to a friend who passed away this week. I think he would get a kick out of this poem.
BRUCE – Deconstructed
Critical of systems that need change.
Unstoppable in the pursuit for justice and mercy.
Rich in the things that matter most
Mensch
Unafraid to speak the truth to authority
Devilish sense of humor
Good at giving advice
Ever-present for his life partner
Only child/loved by children
Never missed a beat/now missed by many
Thank you for introducing us to Bruce, Katrina, and allowing us to witness your friendship in this poem. What a fantastic human to be remembered for being “Unstoppable in the pursuit of justice and mercy.”
Sarah
Katrina — This is such an honest and loving tribute to your friend. I am so sorry for your loss. But your memories of Bruce are here for the every after…so dear. Bruce was a worthy friend. Hugs, Susie
Katrina, I’m sorry for your loss! Everything from his “[d]evilish sense of humor” to his penchant for being “[e]ver-present for his life partner” and “[u]nstoppable in the pursuit for justice and mercy” make it clear that Bruce was a good person and friend who will truly be “missed by many.” Thank you for sharing this tribute of Bruce, the “curmudgeon,” with us!
I am so sorry for your loss, Katrina! Thank you for sharing your friend and the pain of your loss with us today. Bruce sounds like a brave, kind, and a great friend.
What a beautiful tribute to Bruce! I understand the pain of loosing a friend, its just so sad and a gut-wrenching feeling. I hope this was somewhat therapeutic for you when writing this poem. He sounds like such an extraordinary human being, especially when you described him as “Unafraid to speak the truth to authority,” and “Ever-present for his life partner.” Growing up I shared the same stereotypical thought process of poems needing to rhyme, but I’m learning that’s because writing one that doesn’t is harder for me, I’m truly impressed when someone else can.
Katrina, my condolences on the loss of your friend. May Bruce’s spirit live on through words like this. The title is so fitting and you “deconstruct” all of the things that made Bruce, Bruce. The line “Unafraid to speak the truth to authority” is a quality I hope to inherit one day. This is a wonderful tribute and thank you for sharing and giving up a glimpse of Bruce.
Katrina your precise yet short words say a lot about Bruce. Yes, he would get a kick out of your poem. I once made a small sculpture of a deceased friend that I titled it Doug – Decontructed. How special that Bruce was an only child but loved by children.
I am so sorry for your loss. And, love that the second U of Curmudgeon is “Unafraid to speak the truth to authority” – your poem is a gift of love.
There are times that I lose when I am.
Songs that remind me, soften the rigid edges of time
I’m in your car
two girls
two cigarettes
too loud music
too young
too old
too happy to care
about the feelings that will settle in when the car stopped.
This when is lonely, it’s rigid, it’s not what I expected
too many kids
too much work
too many dishes
too much of it all
too alone
too tired to care
about the feelings that settle in at night when it all stops
He tries
But he’s not two
not you
Sarah–this made me sigh as I responded emotionally to each of the stanzas– the freedom, the too much responsibility, and the empty place a good female friend fills up when things stop… So much truth here.
Sarah, welcome! You’ve hit on a real poignant “truth” about growing older: the “now” — “[t]his when” — is never the same as the “then” of the past. I also really enjoyed your repetitions of the “too”s throughout the then and now stanzas. Very cool construction. (Oh, and “the rigid edges of time” is such a good line!) Thank you for writing and sharing this with us!
Sarah,
The play on and shift from “two” to “too” is clever, especially how you circled back to “But he’s not two/not you” in the final line. And then the way you use the phrases with when like “I lose when I am” and “this when is”. You have me contemplating time.
Peace,
Sarah D.
Sarah, the phrase “loose when I am…” puts me in deep thought. I’m so glad our words give us freedom to express how we truly feel. Your redundancy and forms of the word “too/two” strikes me in such a way. Thank you for sharing today.
Oooooh, Sarah. This is brilliant. So much about it to love. The parallel structure of things adds a lot of power. The repeating of too and two and things stopping . . . wow!
The repetition of “too” gives this poem such love and sadness…I want to drum it. How we need our girlfriends sometimes!!
This has such great rhythm and such a consistent tone! I love the repetition of the word too. I can tell this poem is so personal and genuine.
Now, the study
said it takes
something like
35 hours over
a period of time
to form meaningful
friendships,
so I’m thinking
that if we ran
the numbers
of how long
we’ve spent
reading and
writing together
in this space,
we have
definitely
become
fast friends
(ok, let me be
a bit more
discerning
or discriminating,
a bit more
perceptive –
I am “talking”
to a bunch
of poets here –
I’m using the term
fast as in secure
and not quick or
speedy, I mean,
look, it did take
something
like 30 months
and some 200 plus
poems to reach
this stage of our
relationship)
and, though,
it might not be
quite like that scene
in Step Brothers
with Will Ferrell
and John C. Reilly,
I just have two
questions for you:
“Did we just
become
best friends?
(Yep.)
Do you wanna
go do Karate
in the garage?
(Yep.)”
_________________________________________
Thank you for your mentor poem, Jessica! “Busyness was the third wheel” is such an apt line about how life (and the business of living) can work at dismantling friendships (and I’m so glad it wasn’t successful in the case of you and your “Bestie”). And also thanks for this prompt! It allowed me to reflect on this wonderful community we have here. Since I “started” at Ethical ELA in August of 2020, we – collectively – have spent a lot of time reading and writing poetry together!
I have been perusing the site for a month or so and today is my first time contributing, this poem was such an encouraging homage to this community and the nudge I needed to write! Thank you!
I’ll go for the friendship, but not the karate. As always, you said it for all of us!!
Scott, I am honored to be a part of this group of poets whom you call friends. I treasure “this space.” Thank you.
Scott,
Such a wonderful poem in your voice and phrasing that I can hear you, the you is becoming, being my friend in this poetic way. The pace is snappy with revelatory comments and allusions with numbers that measure (WOW, so many poems) and yet can’t quite quantify the moment when we “just/become/best friends”!
Peace,
Sarah
Scott — What a lovely tribute to the gang of writers here. We are, indeed, friends born of this unique place! How lucky is that?! The ending…true to Scott-style made me giggle. Hi-ya! Chop! Susie
Scott, I love your purposeful ramblings. I always get lost in your words. I love how you broke down the definition of “fast” for fast friends, because I would have to agree with you. I’m laughing at “do you want to go do Jared’s in the garage”. The answer is no, but if there’s some snacks available and some music, I’d hang. This should be like the theme poem for our Open Writes!
I think I’m up for some garage Karate, Scott! I love how you’ve captured the science behind friendship within the poetry of this space, bringing together all the variety and diversity so perfectly. Happy friendship!
I adore this so much!
Yes, indeed!!
Thank you, Jessica. You got me thinking about summer possibilities.
Road Tripping
School year
Fading slowly
Behind me.
Breathing in
Summer breezes
Letting go of all
The have-to-do’s.
My best friend
of thirty-eight years,
my husband,
is ready to road trip.
Bags packed,
car ready,
we head on out
ready to explore
new horizons.
Joanne, your poem expresses this time of year for me, too. Traveling with my best friend, who also is my husband. This time, though, we’re returning to places we’ve visited in the past because we know what to expect. After a while, repetitions bring joy.
We love to see if the geese and doves gather around noon for “prayer”. Almost every time we’ve strolled along a beach on the ocean or river around noon time, a gaggle of geese seems to line up in rows and look at the sun. I say they’re praying. My husband says the chief goose is giving a lecture. We both laugh and enjoy just being together and explaining what we see based on what we think is important. 🙂
Joanne, I love the action and clarity of your poem’s events and friend. To have your best friend be a partner in life is the best. Enjoy your new horizons!
Hello Joanne, what a fun poem! Summer is such an exciting time, right now I’m planning vacations with four littles so my road trips may look slightly different than yours. I look forward to the time where my husband and I can just travel together again! I loved how your poem was straight to the point, as a reader it was very easy for me to visualize a road trip happening! Thank you for the reminder of how fun summer can be!
You’re welcome Joanne. I just love this. And thank you for a great reminder! I need to “Letting go of all
The have-to-do’s.” Happy road-tripping!
So lucky you are, Joanne, to have a best friend that is ready for a road trip. Love the freedom and expectation in this poem. Have fun!
It is such a blessing to have one’s partner as their bestie! Happy road-tripping!
Jessica — Thank you for your wonderful prompt and beautiful poem. You truly capture the essence of friendship. This line — “navigating life with no shoes” — spoke to me. I’ve often felt this way as well, but thankfully friends can help us through those times.
Forever Friend
Do you remember the willow tree
its weeping leaves cascading to the earth?
Do you remember how we would lie down on the mossy underbelly
staring up through the green foliage, catching slivers of blue sky?
Do you remember how we cocooned within the barky realm, creating imaginary worlds?
Just you and I forgetting the world.
Do you remember, under the willow tree,
we were princesses exploring a silent leafy castle?
Other times we were adventurers traversing dark, damp caverns, digging around roots.
Sometimes we were astronauts walking the moon, tiptoeing through grassy space, leaving squishy footprints.
We were firefighters,
doctors, scientists,
anything we imagined ourselves to be
under that hopeful willow tree.
Just you and I forgetting the world.
Do you remember how
days eclipsed into night
seasons passed and we grew up?
Our cavernous canopy no longer
captured our imaginations,
our attention diverted
to clothes
to music
to boys
to college
to boys …
But our friendship was steadfast,
even when life threw curveballs
college
boys
arguments about boys
but
even when we squabbled like siblings,
we forgave like forever friends.
Do you remember
days eclipsed into night
seasons and
decades passed?
We both chose teaching as our careers.
We married, became mothers.
We didn’t talk as much as we used to.
We missed each other but didn’t carve out the time.
Why didn’t we?
Why didn’t we find the time for our forever friendship?
Remember the willow tree?
Just you and I forgetting the world.
But you knew me,
knew when something was off-kilter,
knew through a simple phone call,
knew when I didn’t even know it myself,
knew me well enough to save me,
and you did,
that day when my words slurred and my body crashed,
that day when I almost died,
it was you, you that saved me.
I haven’t driven past our willow tree in eons upon eons,
your childhood home long since passed on to another family.
I hope there are some other forever friends lying under
the canopy imagining, and
just forgetting the world.
Thank you for saving me and being my forever friend!
This is a very beautiful tribute to a forever friend! I love the symbol of the willow tree and hope that it is nurturing another forever friendship, as you say, “lying under the canopy imagining, and just forgetting the world.”
What a beautiful tribute and memory. I, too, hope that two girls are lying under that willow tree, imagining their futures and forgetting the world outside.
Tammi, wow, your poem has so many incredible moments. I loved the description of you and your friend’s time beneath the willow and how you forged similar paths in life. Thank goodness your friend saved you when she knew you were not okay. Such a powerful tribute to this amazing “forever friend”. Thank you for sharing your powerful poem.
Tammi — This is beautifully constructed…I was right there under that weeping willow…it felt young…it reminded me of a gentler time between me and my little sister. I admire how you have held onto these images and brought them back here today. I love the hope for new ones under that “canopy imagining…” Totally lovely. Susie
The Willow tree symbol is just beautiful and a breathtaking symbol and visual in this poem! You really spoke truth about having that forever friend but growing up and sometimes apart, but still being friends. Speaking about how your friend saved you, what a beautiful sentiment! It’s almost sad but in a wonderful way when you speak about another set of forever friends finding each other under that same willow tree, just so encouraging and sweet!
Amazing Tammi! The repeated question is the central focus on your poem. I was reminiscing about it you if your fun-filled days of astronauts and firefighters and then I was emotionally wrecked by the time I made it to when she knew you and she saved you! Your “forever friend” is a true friend indeed! Friendship runs deep! Thank you so much for sharing this!
This is a beautiful gift of a poem to your dear friend! I was mesmerized by the soft, dreamy pace of the opening stanza, imagining the beautiful imaginative play in nature – how come we often shelf such joys as we age? This stanza speaks to this very question of mine, I think –
I hope you get back to that willow tree, together.
Hi, Jessica, thank you for a wonderful prompt today and an opportunity to turn to some fond memories of friends. I like that you also connected it to the songs. I enjoyed the rhyming and rhythm of your poem. It is so great to have a friend who is for life.
For my poem, I chose Bill Wither’s 1972 song and these lines: “Lean on me / When you’re not strong / And I’ll be your friend / I’ll help you carry on” to tell you about my best college friend, who was very shy and often hold my hand underneath the desk when professors asked her to speak. I thought I was helping her, but I needed this more than she did because I tried to hide my fears too. Tried to rhyme, but need more work so rhyming doesn’t feel forced.
Lean on Me to Make Me Stronger
First class of the day
My professor is stern—
No jokes to play;
Everyone has to learn.
When she gets to your name
Calling for homework,
You don’t look quite the same—
Brown eyes seem to lurk.
They are screaming a scare
And your hand in despair
Grabbing mine to feel easy—
All you need is light squeeze.
Many years had gone,
Now my thoughts run free,
As you leaned on me,
You made me strong.
Leilya, I love the beauty you create through this special friend. It’s wonderful to have someone to lean on and I admire how you showed the way this also empowered you. Your title for this poem is perfect. I love the song that inspired you, too! Hugs!
Leilya, thank you for sharing today and you’re quite welcome! Your peons reminds me of not just friendship, but just a good human! Your lines “Brown eyes seem to lurk.…They are screaming a scare” draw me into the scene. I’m grateful that you and your friend were able support one another through thick and thin!
Such poetic wisdom,
I love this so much!
Thank you, Jessica, for hosting today. Your prompt invited so many friends I used to have. Loved the delightful rhythm of your poem. The wonderful connection with a Bestie is clear.
Not a Forgotten Friend
we were friends once
just after college
you knew everyone
I knew no one
yet everyone knew me
stranger in a small town
I remember slow pitch softball games
warm nights fireflies
although I don’t remember much
I can still see your van
coming for me
I remember longing listening
see your face
your blue eyes
singing “Sally”
I search for occasionally online
listen to you voice on Spotify
I wonder if you ever think of me
once we were friends
Barb Edler
17 June 2023
Barb! This is beautiful and so sad at the same time. I love how you’ve evoked a sense of melancholy, and particularly, how you described the sensation of being the person that everyone knows, without knowing them in return.
Oh, this makes me think of the little while friends (Book: Orlando and His Little While Friends) from those brief seasons in our lives. They meant so much at the time and felt lid they would never end.
I like how you transposed the phrases of your opening and ending lines and phrases like “warm nights,” “fireflies,” and “blue eyes” moving the images from the outside details to the specific face of your friend.
Well done!
I always love getting a chance to read your work. This poem came across with a gentleness to me, and I was thinking it had to do with the spacing, as if broken apart and reassembled like a memory. I am liking the emphasis created by the nOT forGOTten, really accenting being remembered.
A beautiful and gentle poem, Barb! While you say you didn’t know anyone, it seems that you noticed them all. You still remember this friend, and I am sure she remembers you too. I like the spacing within the lines hinting that you are pausing to remember as you tell us this story.
Barb,
I love your word choices — “warm nights” and “fireflies”. The way you’ve captured the fleetingness of life is bittersweet.
Just love – “your blue eyes singing Sally!”
Barb–this poem brought back memories of those friends who filled a time and moved out of my life. And I sometimes wonder who I would be if we had stayed together…
Barb, this makes me think there was a famous friend for a while before life took off. Love the line breaks and pauses here in your verse and the fireflies’ lights are like little motif symbols of extinguishing flame.
Barb, your use of the word “longing” captures the essence of the poem. How bittersweet are the memories of those firefly friends.
Hi there, Barb! Your poem carries that wistful sort of remembrance of something that “once” was…those tender moments that we never forget…that continue to thread a story of who and what we cared about then and still now. “we were friends” has a deep sadness to it… you are so skilled at building a feeling that runs to the bone. Hugs, Susie
Barb….
The spacing brings such contrast and meaning to the rest of your poem. That “once” in your first stanza makes me feel solemn. And then repeated it at the end as a reminder of the value and necessity of a friendship. This is beautiful! Thank you for sharing.
I love the spaces within each line…they are a beautiful echo of broken thoughts, uncertain connection… I hope you find a way to reconnect, to find your old friend. A beautiful poem, Barb!
Jessica, you’ve gotten us off to a good start by looking back. Friends are crucial to survival and retaining them is a challenge. I’m glad we have friends here on OPEN WRITE to help us reflect on this survival skill.
DARE I ASK?
Do I really want to know
What I did or said
That made him or her go?
Over the years, there have been tears
About broken friendships and uncontrollable lips.
Sometimes too much has been said;
Sometimes not enough.
Sometimes kisses have been given
And sometimes they’ve been withheld.
Being a friend can really be tough.
But once learning the Golden Rule,
One would think behavior would be easy;
But treating others well is not so easy-peasy.
Do I tell the truth in love?
Do I hang around and hug
When the tension mounts?
In friendships, what really counts?
Was it something done or not done?
Oh my! I must forgive?!?
Yes, if I want to be forgiven
And retain the friends who are tempted to run.
Do I really want to know
That it’s love that I must show?
Anna, your poem captures so many mixed emotions about being a friend and what it means to sometimes lose a friend. Sometimes it’s really hard to understand what causes the breaks and distances.
Anna,
I love the questions you present in your poem and this stanza:
“But once learning the Golden Rule,
One would think behavior would be easy;
But treating others well is not so easy-peasy.”
Being a good friend can be a challenge. Your message is so important. It certainly takes two people to build a friendship and it must be nurtured.
Anna, I like the rhythm of these lines in particular. They reiterate to me how mysterious, fleeting, even elusive friendship can be.
Sometimes too much has been said;
Sometimes not enough.
Sometimes kisses have been given
And sometimes they’ve been withheld.
Being a friend can really be tough.
Anna — There’s a lot of wisdom in your poem today. The awareness of how complex friendship are and how much energy they take to have them feel right… that’s no small thing. I hear ya! Susie
Anna, such a true definition of friendship. All of these questions make me wonder whose fault it was, lol. Your repetition of “sometimes” definitely creates a slippery slope of how much or how little to give. Thank you for sharing today.
Impossible Comparing
When I met you in kIndergarten
a friendship began that lasts forever.
Through years apart and then friendships renewed
the love remained.
In my life there is not one compares with you.
As teens sharing boyfirends
and laughing about our naughty escapades
when we hid from our parents in each others attics.
No one compares with you.
Camping on the beach and meeting new lovers
I married one and loved him as much as I loved you, but
In my life only one compares with you.
We’d cry together, laugh together
and now we were three
travelling to foreign places and getting lost,
you by my side when troubles arose.
In my live only one compares with you
Now both gone to heaven
but leaving no large “hole in my heart”
because I am filled with your love
and the memories of two in my life
where there was only one other
impossible to compare with you.
Susan, what a beautiful tribute. I was searching for a song about friends and thought I would use a line from “In my Life” by the Beatles. I’m wondering if that song came to mind as you wrote today. I love your title and final line, along with those specific details that helped me almost see you “in each others attics” and “camping on the beach.” I feel like I’m reading something sacred and personal.
Yes, you hit my Beatles inspiration, right on! Thank you for your kind words.
Susan — what a beautiful tribute to your friend. Your progression through your friendship pulled me in and the repetition of “no one compares to you” was so poignant. So sorry for your loss.
What a heartfelt tribute Susan. “Not one compares…” “No one compares…”, “Only one compares…”, “Impossible to compare…” Those phrases struck me as you made your case with each stanza. I’m glad there isn’t a “large hole in your heart” because all of these memories you shared are definitely full of love! Thank you for sharing today.
Jessica! I did not know this Zack Attack, so I Googled it and watched a video. My spouse recognized it right away as from Saved By the Bell. Wow– that’s quite a crew and these lyrics: If you’re down,/I’ll pick you up,/I’ll never let you fall./If you ever need someone,/I’m waiting for your call.
I remember watching
my sister with her cheer friends,
the pearly, staccato way she’d
bounce around the kitchen table,
the way she’d bring her trio to
clap in unison if they fell behind or
giggled off-beat when they caught
a glimpse of ensembled bodies in
the mirrored wall of our living room. Never
felt confident around those
trios of girls– hers or others
could welcome with a wave or
hurt with a side eye just one toss
of a feathered bang
friendship could be lost or gained.
To me, it didn’t make sense. I didn’t
make sense as part of or essential to
any trio, so I was the fourth, to join
late to the party after work, to be
the one who’d drive while others
played DJ, bought the booze, waved to boys.
Did I miss the lesson on being with
friends? Is that I never can quite find the
rhythm in the claps of girlfriending a
reason to decline, stay behind? There is truth
in that off-beat almost indifference to
friending, a clean honesty about my social
variance that feels not like belongingless
but a new way of being with, being friend
because I think adjacency is underrated
in the stories of friendship.
Sarah–wow! The difference between “belongingness” and “adjacency”–something I never considered in relationships. But you have put my view of my younger years through a lens that did not exist before. So much has been put in place!
Sarah, your poem is rich with details from this time in your life. Older sisters are a wonder, but you capture so much here with the group of friends she had. I feel such a weightiness with your question “Did I miss the lesson on being with/friends? The rhythm of friendships and the feeling of belongingless are especially provocative and I appreciate how you pull the reader into these emotions and connections. Powerful poem!
Sarah, you speak to the quiet-natured who find rhythms in so many ways beyond the clap of cheering friends … you remind me of a poetry prompt from some time ago (was it with Ethical ELA? Can’t recall-) on “I hold it a different way.” This is why I relate to and savor your lines on “clean honesty about my social variance,” not feeling “belongingless” and that “adjacency is underrated in the stories of friendship.” These reflections are incredibly powerful and meaningful to me. Thank you-
Sarah,
I love the way there is a rhyme for some of those major points you are making…with a side eye just one toss
of a feathered bang
friendship could be lost or gained…never can quite find the
rhythm in the claps of girlfriending a
reason to decline, stay behind?
You are really leaving me thinking with the last couple lines as well…The last star in a constellation.
Love this, Sarah. And especially love – ” the pearly, staccato way she’d bounce around the kitchen table.” I can see and feel that so clearly.
Thanks. Also, I sent you am email confirming details for the book group. Are you in for hosting and participating in others?
Sarah –This ending — “being friend/because I think adjacency is underrated/in the stories of friendship” — Wow! Just wow! So powerful! Your details about friendship and being on the periphery really speak to me. I can relate.
Sarah — This is a very loaded poem that I understand way too well. Those snarky “side eye[s]” that come with the “cheer friends.” So many relationships carry that label, “friend” and it flies in the face of how some folks treat other folks. I think your term “friending” is powerful here….the act of connecting… Amen for “clean honesty” about who we are with other people. Of particular interest is the “watching/ my sister…” preface to the poem. We learned so much (both negative and positive, but a whole world of negative) about what it means to be friends from the siblings who mapped both the ugly and the desirable connections with people as we grew up. I can say, your poem really resonated with me this evening. Thank you. Susie
Sarah, this speaks so clearly to me. I wonder how many adjacents there might be?
Sarah, I actually didn’t realize they were “legit” until I did some googling of my own. “Welcome with a wave” or “hurt with a side eye”. It’s amazing how friendship is rated based on our own nonverbal communication. “That off-beat almost indifference to friending”….a new way, a more welcoming way. Love love love! Thank you for sharing today!
Hello everyone. This is my first time posting here, and it feels like a really safe and respectful space. And thank you for the prompt, Jessica. I think you poem does a great job of showing how important our old friends are through the moments of our lives. My poem is unfortunately about the relationships that have grown apart, that we want to repair, similar to the subject of Neil Young’s “One of These Days”.
Where are we
Where did we go
Through cemeteries
And all we know
Through marriages
And ballgames
Beer cases
And blames
Over miles
And phone lines
Whispered hushes
Frightened times
Where are we now
And what went wrong
Find it someday
It won’t be long
One of These Days – Neil Young
Welcome to the group, Mike! I know you will love it!
“Where are we now
And what went wrong
Find it someday
It won’t be long”
The previous stanzas make this last one even more poignant… So much to lose.
Mike,
Welcome. So glad you are here, and so grateful for your poem today. I was stopped at the third line “Through cemeteries.” And sat with that for a beat or two before reading on. The pace of your poem lightened my heart a bit as I moved through the “throughs” of friendship.
Sarah
Mike, I admire how well you’ve captured images and actions through your words. The pace adds another dimension and I feel the way life has a tendency to move forward which can add to the disconnect between friends.
Nice to see/read you, Mike. I liked the overall feel of this, as it really begs a question or two, but comes across like a declarative. We ask where we are, but it is more of an awareness or acknowledgement, there isn’t really an answer that will change that feeling of time passing.
Mike, I join the crew in welcoming you to this group of educators who remain open to each other and to others. You have confirmed the goal of having an open, honest, and affirming platform to learn with and from each other ways that poetry writing can enhance our instruction. Most of us are finding that writing enhances us as people!
And, the lines in your final stanza resonate with so many of us.
Where are we now
Thanks for writing and confirming are not alone with this question.
The picture didn’t pop up at first.
Welcome, Mike! You aren’t wrong you have found the best group of teacher-poets to write and share poetry with here!
Thank you for trusting us with your words. They are beautiful! I love the rhythm of your words which flow like a song and although your poem is about growing apart I felt hopefulness in your ending.
Glad to have you here, Mike. You will love this space, and I can tell you will add a lot. Your poem makes me pause . . . especially when I hit the line “through cemeteries.”
Hopefully the someday happens soon.
Great poem, MIke, about that distance that can come between friends if we don’t reach out to each other to keep it going. I hope this friendship can be found again someday as your final stanza says.
Welcome, Mike. Glad you are joining us and sharing your words today. I’m drawn to the rhythm of your words, the gentleness (that you give to the subject and the misplacement of friends) and the honesty.
I’m glad you found time to shared with us Mike. We welcome you! I have a few stained friendships that I think I need to mend. “Where are we” and “Where did we go” are phrases I constantly ask myself when looking on the outside in. That could be me, but I didn’t <insert something here>. Even those types of friendships should be honored. Thank you for this!
Welcome, Mike! Your poem says a ton with so few words in each line. I feel the loss and the wonderings. I hope your friendship rekindles a flame at just the right time. There’s so much history here, so I imagine that friend is missing you too.
Thank you for sharing!
Jessica,
Thanks so much for the opportunity to shake off the cobwebs and do a prompt poem. I love the focus on music and lyrics, as it really feels interwoven into all the significant memories I’ve had, especially those tied to friendships.
BRIAN
Iowa City to Lake MacBride
campsite 6, with Jim
a bottle of peppermint schnapps
and God awful beer, dipping Skoal,
and the moments where the fire hypnotizes
and we think we are deep,
sorta know we are drunk,
and make earth shattering revelations
lost in the fuzz of a grungy brotherhood morning.
Changes in latitudes.
The route from Old Faithful to West Yellowstone
dipping Copenhagen, drinking tall boys,
hungry for pizza from The Gusher,
hacky sack outside the employee pub,
a day trip to Mount Washburn
and conversations of God
manifest in the wilderness,
and back to the obligatory
on women and life,
life and women,
and maybe more beer.
Changes in latitudes,
changes in attitudes.
Spring Break at Pensacola
looking for babes and finding parents
with small children,
two thirds empty beaches
the location and calendar all off,
we get a different hotel,
that had a blood stain
on one of the mattresses,
rolling papers in the drawers,
and a Bartles and Jaymes bottle in the shower…
…a story in itself,
and still beer, now with cigars,
not as cheap.
It’s those changes in latitudes,
changes in attitudes
nothing remains quite the same.
The stretch across Lake Pontchartrain
from Mandeville to New Orleans,
scary torrents of rain,
and me doing my best Lieutenant Dan,
drying out, docking the boat
and heading into the French Quarter for smells
of piss, puke, and Pat O’Brien’s,
too loud to pontificate,
our eyes drinking in.
With all of our running and all of our cunning…
Highs and lows of dating
that shifts to marrying,
then steps into parenting,
and dekes into our pruning heart breaks and divorces,
shitty schedules, checking in every year or so,
proud of our children, the Hawkeyes,
still unable to figure out women,
but not enough to drink over it,
chewing and smoking replaced by dental work,
deadlines, ibuprofen,
and retirement on the horizon.
We hold phones with no cords,
and talk,
long enough to wonder in synchronicity
where our time has gone.
If we couldn’t laugh we would all go insane…
So much to love here–we walked through your very guy-like life with you and your friends! But this is so true, and made me laugh!
“chewing and smoking replaced by dental work,
deadlines, ibuprofen,
and retirement on the horizon.”
Where has the time gone?
Rex, your poem shows the changes in life and how our behavior can also alter. Through it all, even blood on a mattress, your brotherhood connection remains strong. Sounds like a lot of adventures were shared to help the bonds remain strong. I loved the final revelation as it speaks such a universal truth. Glad to be able to read one of your poems today:)
Rex — I really enjoyed the details and how your poem unfolds as a journey, through life and how you captured joy, love, and heartbreak, the changes in altitude providing perfect interludes. The humor is perfectly placed and I loved your ending “We hold phones with no cords, and talk,/ long enough to wonder in synchronicity/ where our time has gone.” — So true!
Jessica, Thanks for this great prompt. Your poetic rhymes lift me up today into that childhood of innocent and sustaining friendship.
I am visiting my mother who has Alzheimer’s. She loves music, so we played Simon and Garfunkel and sang “Bridge over Troubled Waters” together. The lyrics led me to write my poem today.
Bridges are not hard to find here.
They provide a path for us.
We recognize the design–
how cantilever arms span
supporting the weight of it all.
When friends can’t be found,
I’ll lay me down
comfort your troubled waters
like a bridge that supports weight
without visible effort–
holding us side by side.
Margaret–this is one of my favorite songs. My mom passed away recently from Alzheimer’s–I know how hard that is for you…
“When friends can’t be found,
I’ll lay me down
comfort your troubled waters
like a bridge that supports weight
without visible effort–”
Love this…
Margaret, Love this for so many reasons. 1) Your song is a favorite of mine. I love that you and your mom have the connection of music. 2) My dad also has Alzheimer’s and realizing there are still pathways to connect with is so important. 3) I learned something new today–cantilever! I could imagine sitting side by side with my Dad… something invisible connecting us and “supporting the weight of it all.” There is so much in this one image and metaphor.
Margaret, bridges are a favorite image for me, having connected me to loved ones all of my life. Here in your lines there’s such quiet strength, with “support” referenced twice, with the cantilever arms, with the offering of comfort. So beautiful, the duality of the troubled waters of Alzheimers and the two of you singing that particular song. Magnificent borrowings, magnificent poem, resting in love for one another.
Master of metaphor. Such a strong poem, Margaret. Wonderful!9
Margaret — This poem really moved me. I have long loved this particular song and found that it meant a very great deal to me. That you found it as a frame for your visit with your mom…so touching. The image of the “bridge that supports weight/without visible effort.” Yes. Susie
I love the image of cantilever arms spanning the distance and supporting the weight of a friendship.
Jessica–thank you for this prompt and your poem. This line is wonderful: “But then I turn around and there you are”. Isn’t that the truth about those we grew up with? Your poem brought me happy memories. (And tears, of course–I am a true leaky sieve…)
For Diane
“Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be 70
Old friends, memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears”
Paul Simon
I always imagined us here…
Two old ladies, laughing, giggling
(even though we are too old for giggling now)
Remembering…
A tiny driveway connecting our two worlds.
Kool-Aid on the back porch
Hopscotch on the sidewalk
Hula hoops and hide and seek in the backyard
Dressing up in your mother’s prom gowns
Singing “Judy’s Turn to Cry” at the top of our lungs
Learning makeup techniques in your bedroom
And all those boys…
Long walks to nowhere,
(usually blurred because
neither one of us wanted to wear our glasses,
just in case there was a boy.
Remember the time
we prepped to flirt with the guy on the corner,
only to realize he was actually a pole
when we got close?)
Coffee–we drank gallons–
in coffee shops all over town.
Planning our future,
fretting our present,
recalling our past.
It was always so.
It was always us.
But
plans fall through.
I am here on this bench,
old friend–
at 70, without you.
GJS 6/17/23
Gayle, I am howling about prepping to flirt with the boy who turned out to be a pole!! Hysterical! See what comes of not wearing one’s glasses… a lesson I have also learned the hard way. Funny thing is now everyone says Oooo, your glasses are so becoming. Go figure. Your imagery had me chucking from the start; I played with old prom dresses, too, while singing old songs. I can see you and your friend so vividly that I feel I’m there with you. Then then then… you wrench my heart at the end. As life tends to do. There is a solace, however, in remembering, in reliving if but for a moment. I will take it. <3
Gayle, ahhhh, I feel your closing line like a punch. I love how you shared several memories to illustrate your joyful moments with your friend which adds the depth of loss so poignantly! Powerful and moving poem!
Gayle, you picked such a great song (such a wonderful and forlorn tune) that pairs so perfectly with your verse. I, too, like Fran, laughed out loud at the “guy who turned out to be a pole” line. (And let me just say, poet friend of mine, that you were one of the folks who commented on my first (and second and third and…) poem(s) when I began posting on this site! Thank you for your encouragement! I truly appreciated it (and appreciate you). 🙂
I am beyond grateful for my two besties who’ve been in my life for 49 years! We recently had a girls night to detox from my HORRIBLE school year. The laughter and memories can’t be beat!
These lines from Marvin Gaye’s song, God is My Friend, remind me of my besties.
And all He asks of us (peace) /
Is we give each other love
He loves us whether or not we know it
And when we call in Him for mercy, (mercy Father)
He’ll be merciful, my friend, oh yeah, ooh
(Oh, yes He will)
We Give Each Other Love
Deep belly laughs
about aging and living
through memories
shared since 1973.
We give each other
love and light and leave
with tired faces from
holding and releasing
chuckles, giggles, guffaws.
All we ask of us
is unconditional mercy
because we keep forgetting
What’s his name?
“Who?”
Oh, never mind.
©Stacey L. Joy, 6/17/23
Stacey, what a joy to have these friends in your life, especially after your very bad year. That second stanza is lyrical and beautiful. “love and light and leave / with tired faces from / holding and releasing…” I just want to read it again and again. It’s so lovely. Yours and Mo’s poems are beautiful companions today.
I love this! I hope you share it with those long friends you are so blessed to have in your life. I can relate to “What’s his name?”
Stacey, I love this story of your friendship and the giving “each other/love and light and leave”. Yes, that is a beautiful line of adding up with the “ands” and the space that is abstract, defying measurement. And then there are the concrete sounds of chuckles, giggles, and guffaws that tell the story so well.
Sarah
Stacey, I love the palpable joy emanating from every line of this poem. I envision you and your friends and the unconditional love for each other written on your faces…ties right back to Gaye’s song. What a blessing, these besties since ’73! I gotta say the ending stanza has me laughing out loud. What a blessing YOU are! Always uplifting, no matter what. And I am sorry about your horrible year. Here’s to onward and upward – much better things lie ahead, and thank heaven for the circle of friends on the journey <3
Stacey, I can hear the laughter, feel the joy as you share these moments of lifelong friendship with your besties! What a blessing!
Stacey, I love the laughter throughout this poem and the loving, forgiving tone. I had to smile, too, when reading your final lines. Love your title!
Stacey — The joy in this friendship is marvelous. And at the end of a HARRIBLE school year…well, dang…amen for your besties. Love love love the ending…made me giggle…so perfect. Friends do wash away the baloney! Yea! Hugs, Susie
Jessica, I especially enjoy the rhyme and musicality of your poem – it so suits the topic of friendship. You took me back to my own elementary days, where the memory that inspired this poem lives…I thank you for bringing it back to the surface. Friendship is one of the greatest gifts for enjoying, not just enduring, this life – to be celebrated, indeed.
True Color of Friendship
Friendship
is a green thing
like grass along a ditch bank
growing as it will,
a curious profusion
of weeds and wildflowers
returning after every random mowing
after every dormant season
a constancy
as a child, I ran
alongside a ditch
old fetid conduit
that seldom lived up
to its purpose
marveling at the miniature daisies
and Queen Anne’s lace,
frothy white heads
nodding in the early summer breeze
too delicate, I thought even then,
to be growing in the borders
of this stagnant place
in time I would know
these were just
fleabane and wild carrot
but when I was running
and jumping the ditch
that conjoined the backyards
of my neighbors
the little flowers were flagstaffs
in the green tangled triumph
over rot and decay
I was on my way
to see my friend
we were just children
so brief an enchantment
I was welcomed
and then I was not
my mother, attempting consolation
said let her go
she’s fickle
curious new word
hard to grasp
conjuring in my mind
a pickle
it is how I learned
that relationships
can sour
and die
even though people
still live
and yet there is
a constancy
alongside loss
so many fresh blooms
growing as they will,
a curious profusion
of weeds and wildflowers
returning after every random mowing
after every dormant season
perhaps they are the same
perhaps they are new
perhaps they are meant only for now
perhaps they endure forever
if conditions are right
all I know
as I ride to lunch with a friend
who doesn’t like pickles
who orders extras with her sandwich
to give them to me
is that friendship
is a green thing.
Oh my, Fran, I was thinking of fickle friendships this morning as I contemplate this prompt, and your poem is so beautiful. That “all I know” stanza is a masterpiece. The weeds, the wildflowers, the pickles and “friendship / is a green thing” is profound and makes me cry this morning.
Fran–OOF! “I was welcomed/and then I was not” The starkness of this phrase contrasts with the beauty and joy of the flagstaff flowers… I am so glad that your friend gives you her pickles now. 🙂
The journey of this poem from green to green and the harsh reality that some friendships don’t last touches me. I’ve lost so many friendships over the years and I have not always handled it well.
Fran,
I find such comfort and wisdom in this line “like grass along a ditch bank/growing as it will.” Yes, there are tangible things and moves to do to nurture friendship, but there is also this other nature of friendship that has powerful roots to grow as it will or must. The green thing.
Sarah
Fran, your analogy to the life of friendship being green, growing even in the least likely places is colorful and true! I always give my husband my pickle – literally three minutes before reading your poem offered my pickle to my daughter today. Such a moving story of learning about friendship from your childhood and how they can sour and die. So if we ever have lunch, you can have my pickle. And speaking of green, Leafy Jean is reigning supreme!
Oh gosh I just love this metaphor journey you have taken us on! Green wildflowers, pickles, pickled friends. Then the surprise of those green pickles being the bond of true friendship. What a wonderful twist!
Fran — I was smitten by your poem. The sheer joy and youthfulness of those early moments with a friend who suddenly, inexplicably is not a friend.. so tough a tale. But we all get it. I love the natural images of the fleabane and the weeds…so fresh… so, well, green. Susie
Hello! This is my first Open Write, and I’m happy to be here. I love the prompt. While writing, I was thinking of some lines from “The Promise” by When in Rome, but also Samantha Irby’s hilarious essay “The Worst Friend Date I Ever Had,” if anyone is interested. I wrote about the same topic as Irby–the grind of making new friends in a new city, especially when you have high standards from emotionally close, physically long-distance friends.
“I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say,
I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to be,
But if you wait around a while I’ll make you fall for me”
To new friends–
I’m new, too, new enough
that I haven’t been to all your favorite places
yet. Please, take me there
on a Thursday afternoon
when there’s nothing else to do.
Grab the other end
of this thread we have in common
and join me on a walk
with minimal awkward pauses
I promise, I’m the best
I will cook you dinners
until you can attest,
I may not be a chef
but I bet I’d make you laugh.
Shelby, welcome! I am happy you joined us here and I hope you feel the love and support this community offers.
I have never been in a new place where my friends were not close. I can only imagine. Your poem captures the awkwardness as well as the warmth of finding new friends.
I love the end because I would much rather have deep belly laughs than a perfect meal! 🤣
Thank you, Shelby! I’m glad you’re here.
Welcome, Shelby! I would definitely take you with me on a Thursday afternoon! I really love the second stanza–grabbing the other end of a common thread is a perfect metaphor for a new friendship. There is a comfortable reaching out in this poem–just like those new friendships we need so much.
Welcome, Shelby. What a lovely image of a “thread” — gentle, tender, fragile rather than a rope or other object of binding. That word choice is such a comforting way to welcome a new friendship.
Sarah
Welcome to Open Write, Shelby! What a perfectly warm debut, this invitation to new friends, new places, new experiences… exactly what Open Writes do for us all. Love those confessional ending lines, for in the end, the laughter is worth it all.
Shelby, I join the group that welcomes you!
The imagery in your stanza
Grab the other end
of this thread we have in common
and join me on a walk
with minimal awkward pauses
reminds me of the fragility of friendships, even those that have lasted for decades!
Thanks for sharing.
It is a joy to be back writing poetry with this community. Jessica, thank you for this prompt! I loved the ‘roll’ and flow of your poem with its rhyming structure, and I am smitten with this line –
“Rooting me on when the world sees bizarre.”
I am struck by the dual meanings of ‘rooting’ and how this is especially poignant with a good friendship, both cheering each other on and anchoring one another to the ground.
The Rolling Stones’ song, “I’m just waiting on a friend” immediately popped into my head, so I went with this. I have always liked its melody (although the lyrics leave me wondering and confused). My poem uses some of my favorite lines from their song, and these are italicized below.
I’m just waiting on a friend
I’m just standing in a doorway
I’m just trying to make some sense
What went so wrong as we talked
and how do we make amends?
We each dug in and held tough
Now I’m consumed with regret
I want to go back, rewind, redo
I’m not sure what would be best
How can we see so differently?
I must give this time and space
Our many years of friendship
Means forgiveness for mistakes
But I need someone I can cry to
That’s not you this time around
We crossed a painful line of hurt
and I’m feeling mighty down
Ohhh, Maureen, this one hurts and I feel it in my core. I hope you and your friend will eventually come back to common ground. You are right to give it space.
Hugs, Maureen. 💛
Maureen–“That’s not you this time around”–I feel regret and hope there. I, too, have “crossed a painful line of hurt”. And sometimes, you can’t brush it away so easily. So much going on here. Maureen. bEautiful.
Maureen,
So many moments in this poem, I found myself feeling pangs of ache. There was a stirring from past friendships, of mistakes, regrets, harm. I think the not knowing about a harm or the impossibility of mending some harms is tough to bear as a human — we want to fix it or have it fixed, right, but that often is dependent on the one we harmed or perceived harm. Lots of ideas stirring for me now. So here, I am sitting with you or the speaker in this discomfort and “feeling mighty down.” Just to sit with it for a bit.
Peace,
Sarah
Maureen, so much in this resonates so strongly – the crossing the line part and the forgiveness are so real, plus the time and space. The brave and courageous way you open the festering wounds we have all felt to ask the questions is true writing to the bone even as it hurts. I’m blanketing myself in these words of time and space needed for healing.
Maureen…this is a poem we have all lived in one way or another, with a friend or family member. Is crossing a “painful line of hurt” a point of no return-? Sometimes it is. This question resonates with me so deeply: “How can we see so differently?” as does the inherent, continued yearning for that once-treasured closeness. Then there’s that magical word, forgiveness…healing lies in it, even if each party must partake of it alone, and even if “amends” cannot be made. The great hope is that they can…you capture the sadness and loss and regret so beautifully here, with the borrowed lines. Here’s to newness and strength in the broken places…I sit beside you in this heartbreak <3
Maureen, your tribute to the Stones song is powerful. I love the opening stanza’s question because it is so hard to understand why some friendships end. The misunderstandings and confusion can hurt so deeply. I love how you show this pain in your final stanza. Heart-wrenching and powerful poem!
Maureen — The hurt and sense of loss…”not you this time around” is so clear. Wanting to “go back, rewind, redo” is so very real, and yet we are stuck “need[ing] someone…” I love that this is born out of a Stones song! Cool! Hugs, Susie
Maureen, thanks so much for sharing. And for capturing the confusion and heartbreak of real friendships coming to some end. I think often we don’t feel like we owe friends the communication or closure that we may feel we owe partners, but losing them hurts just as bad. Your lines “I’m not sure what would be best” and “How can we see so differently” resonate with me as I think about this message.
I am so dang happy to be back here in our sacred space! It feels like April was FOREVER ago!
Jessica,
Thank you for sending me/us down memory lane today and having us reflect on friendship. There are so many different roads to go down as friendships are vast and complex.
Your poem has a real complexity beneath the surface. I love this idea/image because we all know how life can get in the way:
You Can’t Make Old Friends
Toddling around the babysitter’s
Playing tag and running around in gym
Swinging and teeter-tottering at recess
You can’t make old friends.
Writing notes about the crushes we had
Riding bikes around town for days on end
Swimming at The Beach and snapping towels
You can’t make old friends.
Spending the night at each other’s houses
Countless ballgames we did attend
Board games and phone calls all night long
You can’t make old friends
High school dances and cruising Sixth Street
For the same boy we tried not to contend
Watching soaps and swimming all day
You can’t make old friends.
Roommates in college then not so much
It was time for us each to expand
Months would go without talking
You can’t make old friends.
Pre-texting and social media
(I know that’s so hard to comprehend)
We had no idea what the other was doing
You can’t make old friends.
Slowly we merged back together
With new ideas and adopting new trends
We shared them with each other
You can’t make old friends.
We each found our man for forever
Again, time together we would spend
The four of us making new memories
You can’t make old friends.
At one another’s sides at our weddings
Just like we used to pretend.
Fancy dresses and make-up and jewelry
You can’t make old friends.
Godparents to each other’s babies
Prayers to heaven we each did send.
Offering advice and listening as mommas
You can’t make old friends.
We’ve shared a lifetime of experiences
Most people can’t even comprehend.
Besties since we were five years old
You can’t make old friends.
~Susan Ahlbrand
17 June 2023
“You Can’t Make Old Friends” performed by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, written by Ryan Hanna King, Don Schlitz, Caitlyn Smith. 2013
Susan, this is a song! Love the repetition of “You can’t make old friends,” it works beautifully here. I am in awe of how long you have had this dear friend – since you were five years old, amazing! I chuckled at the parenthetical “(I know that’s so hard to comprehend)” regarding contact pre-social media. You made me think how technology has helped us resume/bring new energy into old friendships.
I love how this poem shows the evolution of a friendship throughout stages of life! Great friends change with each other.
Oh, Susan–I love this! The repetition as you go through time, and all the life changes. There really is nothing like a shared past, is there? So much shorthand…
This is such a relatable poem about the stretching and growing people do as they age and the beauty of holding space for a friendship through it all. Well done!
Oh my goodness! You took me through your memoir of friendship! The repeated line “You can’t make old friends” became heavier with each repetition. Beautiful.
The Math of Friendship
By Mo Daley 6/17/23
6th grade
3 girls
2 jocks
1 nerd
1 beauty queen
4 years of high school
4 colleges
3 marriages
2 divorces
8 children
1 home lost to a fire
5 parents no longer with us
1 parent hanging on for dear life
2 grandchildren
scads of secrets
tons of trust
legions of loyalty
round-the-clock respect
limitless laughs
loads of love
an unconventional formula, to be sure,
but it adds up for us
lifelong friends
Mo, the math adds up to infinite friendship! I love the form, the snapshot-style lines that paint the picture, full of all truths about who people are. I’m celebrating all friends today, but that nerd is at the top of my list today – – because I found the ultimate geeknerd in Best Buy, and when I needed him, he was there for me to help with my computer issues. And I know that while they may not shine under Friday Night Lights, their sparkle is there – – !! I love what you’ve done here!
Here we are last year.
How sweet! I need friends like this!
I adore this math of friendship! Amazing how numbers tell your story – three dear friends. The alliteration of these lines is both powerful and beautiful, I think:
I love this flow Mo! It’s an interesting reminder of the mathing of friendships! “An unconventional formula” indeed that leads to a great addition of “lifelong friends”!
Mo, i thought “scads of secrets, tons of trust” was very nice. It sounds great and comes in at a perfect place. We all have secrets only our friends are trusted with.
Mo, there’s so much to love here. I see the commonalities between my poem and yours (thanks Denise). What a gift to have lifelong friendships! 🤗
Mo–your math equation is perfection, as is the infinity of the ending.
Mo,
What a wonderful equation of love. So many fun alliterative phrases there like “scads of secrets.” What joy that you have had with these special friendships since sixth grade!
When I sent this to my friends, this is how one responded. I love the things we both thought about!
Mo, you inspired me to add another verse. I hope you don’t mind!
Friendship Math part II
One comedian
One empath
One people pleaser
Three eccentrics
Three open/intelligent minds
Three mothers
One like set of morals
Endless caring and compassion
Highest respect
One Author
One PhD
One marathoner (literally and figuratively)
Thousands of Uncontrollable belly laughs
Several life threatening events
One highly valued educator
One selfless caregiver
One successful investor
Three family centric homes
Three lifelong learners
Three adventurers
Held together by One unbreakable bond which has created the most wonderful, cherished friendship ❤️
Oh, Mo, what a lovely addition. It gives an even fuller picture of your special bond. I hope “Friendship Math, Part 3” gets added to this lovely collection.
Mo, I love both your poem, the approach you took (so clever and fun), and this response! What a beautiful friendship you all have.
Mo — I love the concise list-ness of this poem. I should’ve tried that myself. I’m inspired…might have to do some more writing tonight! Susie
Jessica, thank you for such a lovely prompt to swing us back into the stream of writing together. I can’t think of a better way to kick off any month than thinking about friendship. Your invitation to search songs was just what my heart needed this morning, and for me, no one touches my heart like The Divine Miss M. Here’s to all of my friends in this writing group – all of you, using a line or two from Wind Beneath My Wings
A Haiku for YOU
you, fellow writer,
are the wind beneath my wings
cheers to friends with pens!
did I ever tell
(forgive me if I haven’t)
you, you’re my hero?
-Kim
You can watch her sing it here: https://youtu.be/0iAzMRKFX3c
So sweet, Kim! Your two haikus speak volumes about the power of writing. What a treat!
Precious haikus! Thank you for these, Kim! Love love love
Kim, I need to pick up my pen more! (forgive me if I haven’t) And you’re forgiven! I talked about that today during a daily Facebook post. Thank you so much for this. Your kind and heartfelt words keeps me going! ❤️
Kim, this is a true love offering! Cheers to you too, Kim!
Kim, I so agree that celebrating friendship is a perfect kickoff for the new round of Open Writes, and your haiku exemplifies it. Do any friends understand or accept one another as well as writing friends?? Friends keep each other going; writer-friends especially provide each other a current for soaring. The willingness to put bits of one’s soul on the page with all the frailties…and to be buoyed by the strength of others…pretty heroic, indeed. You have buoyed me so often! Once again, I read your masterful haiku and find myself nodding.
Oh, Kim, I adore this song. I love how you captured the power of this writing community through your haiku. LOVE YOUR END! Thank you!
Jessica, this is an amazing prompt! Thank you!
You’re very welcome Linda! ❤️
Datherfad
Some just have ‘um,
Dey just a bum.
some are blessed,
working and stressed.
some planted a seed,
left from a need.
some give money,
to satisfy past honey.
some consumed with envy,
and refuse to give any.
Children suffer no doubt,
neglected and left without.
But a few,
are like you.
Giving time,
developing minds.
Being there,
displaying care,
Interests at heart,
Raising from the start.
Teaching right from sin,
a lifetime to begin.
On your way,
advice everyday.
callus hands to pray,
callus hands to pay.
Doing that’s all,
lifting if you fall.
Those are the lions,
being there, while you’re flying.
There- he has always been,
Protecting, encouraging,
he is
my best friend!
-Boxer
Boxer, what a touching tribute to your best friend (dad?) this morning – especially on this day before we celebrate the fathers we have and the fathers/ father figures we know. Your rhymes always give the rhythm for reading and enjoying the ride! I get a sense of the strong protection and nurturing as I read your lines and can see as I look at you and your family that your father modeled fatherhood well – – because any of your three may have well written this about you!
Boxer, first I am so impressed you can come up with these lovely rhymes so early in the morning! The first part of your poem had my brow furrowing. I really like the shift it took when you started talking about your dad/best friend. The qualities you list are important, yet sometimes overlooked. I’m glad you have taken the time to notice them.
I felt the way Mo of his shift!
These are beautiful couplets, each and every one. I really love
and I am thinking about how no one ‘stands alone’ but that we need and make one another…
Well Boxer….I applaud you! “But a few, are like you”…Callused hands, protecting, and encouraging! these are the perfect qualities of a friend! Thank you so much for sharing today.
Boxer, I wish all children could have dads like yours. My ex was a horrible dad and has no relationship with our son and daughter. My own father had a hard time building relationships with me and my sister before he passed. Now, we have our stepdad and he’s got very little to offer as a parent but he’s all we’ve got now. I wonder what needs to happen for there to be a total shift and for children to have who they deserve in fathers (mothers too). We all need the lions! I love this poem and your dad too!
Boxer–so many lines to remember–especially “callus hands to pray”. What an image that presents. (and the title!)