Welcome to Day 5 of the June Open Write. A very special thank you to Jessica Wiley, Jennifer Guyor-Jowett, Leilya Pitre, and Angie Braaten. 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. We will see you here July 15-19 with Mo Daley, Susan Ahlbrand, Shelby Sexton, and Mike Dombrowksi.
Our Host
Angie Braaten has been teaching English Language Arts since 2013. She started her teaching career in Louisiana for five years, then moved overseas and taught in Bangladesh and Kuwait. Her overseas experiences have opened her mind in ways that may have never happened if she had stayed in the states. She has experience teaching grades 6-11 but her favorite would probably be 8th, a grade that will always hold a special place in her own heart, for reasons you will learn in her poem today! She is grateful for this community of writers who have taught her so much and to have monthly opportunities to write, read, and share poetry.
Inspiration
I stuck with another age related prompt for today. I recently read Chen Chen’s “When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities” and then his whole poetry book by the same name. Highly recommended. After I read the poem, I immediately thought about all the things that I have wanted to be and wished to be, if we weren’t confined to such a limited life.
Process
- Think about everything you want to be if you could be anything in the world.
- Make it funny or honest or a mixture of the two.
- Add in some detail and metaphor, as Chen Chen does.
- Any form is possible today.
Angie’s Poem
When I Grow Up I Want to Be Other Things
To be everything that I wanted to be but did not choose to be, like Sylvia in her fig tree, I want to be able to choose everything and not sit withering away
Like a full time writer and successful
Like a PE teacher, active, to be my own energy and other people’s also
To be a personal assistant because I don’t really care to tell people what to do but if you give me a list of things that need to be done, they’ll be done before this poem is over
To be a more patient caretaker for my grandma
To be a mom, earlier in life, knowing by now what kind of ten year old child I would have
To be a nicer person
To be a more lovable person
To be a more talkative person
To be a more outgoing person
who feeds off of conversation instead of hiding from it
To be the love my mother needs
To be the love my brother needs
To be the judge who decides my niece and nephew will not be taken away from their father
To be the judge who decides that _ should be convicted for killing _ (insert too many names into the blanks)
To be some spirit who doesn’t allow these things to happen in the first place
To be some non-prejudiced oxygen that flows into the lungs and ends up in the heart of otherwise racist people so they don’t kill anyone because of skin color or who they pray to, or where they were born, or, or, or
To be everything that is fair and good.
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.
Dear All,
Sorry I was late commenting on some poems. I have just finished and enjoyed the past two days immensely. I’m glad to have hosted part of the first summer open writes for the year and hope to be back at other times! Thank you so much 🙂
I still need to grow up in a lot of ways. I was able to list, in about a minute, at least a dozen things I need to do better in life. Thank you for asking me to look at these and respond today.
To hear the rhythm and make the melody
And make the machine that makes that melody
To be like water on a windless small lake
And be like a bridge over the lake when the wind is blowing
To be able to answer a child with a story
And have that answer in aphorisms
To set my mouth to a bank’s schedule
For banks are rarely open
To learn how to hold
And to hold what is sacred
Wow, Mike, the way you have described wanting to be the things you say you need to work on is just brilliant. I love how you’ve written this! I especially love this line:
“And be like a bridge over the lake when the wind is blowing”
And of course I love the bank reference with its dig at their hours but still makes an important point about listening.
Thank you so much for writing!
Hi, Angie! I tried to make it today; sorry for being so late. Just read bedtime stories to my grandkids, and it seems I can have a few minutes to myself.
Thank you for today’s prompt; it made me think, and I enjoyed reading the poems throughout the day stealing a minute or two here and there. Your poem is amazing. You have so many possibilities in the future I love the final line: “To be everything that is fair and good.” It reminded me of a TV show I used to edit many years ago in Crimea, and when we did a pilot program, we tried it out on our own kids. My youngest, Jana, was about 10 years old. When the host introduced the kids, he asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up. One boy wanted to be a vet, another girl wanted to be an actress, and my Jana thought for a few seconds: “I want to be, I want to be… I just want to be a good person.” It felt so good to hear from a child.
Like Susan and Scott, I am pretty content with who I am at the moment. I change in response to life, probably, daily, but it’s okay, and I accept it.
I did want to write something, so I dreamed a bit today.
Dreaming
When I grow up, I want to be
All the good things that people long to see:
A sky with endless shades of blue,
Light clouds dancing in the view,
A sun ray, warm and full of light,
A blade of grass, that’s strong and green,
A book that takes you on a journey,
A song that soothes a wounded soul.
If I can dream a little more,
I want the world without the war.
Leilya, thank you for being here, even though it had to be late. I’m so glad I came back again this evening to read your treasure.
The list of those good things people long to see is so wonderful. I stopped to think about each one. And then that last line. I notice you said, “the” war, which is so significant and makes me think of you today and your homeland of Ukraine. Peace to you and to your strong home country.
Leilya,
Enjoyed your Dreaming poem. A song that soothes a wounded soul, is a a great line. However, please keep dreaming a little more because I too would like a world without war.
Leilya,
Thank you for sharing the story of what that line made you think of. Told me so much about your life back then. I appreciate it!
Your poem is simply beautiful and feel good. I want to be all those things, too! And I definitely want “the world without the war.” The alliteration is great here. Thank you for writing!!
When I Grow Up I Want
To be good
potato salad
with hard-boiled eggs
and red onions–
everyone says
delicious
To be the hum
of I-80 calling
on a still Iowa evening–
the drumroll beneath the birds
chirping their children
home for the night
To be all the greens
of Iowa in late June–
arms stretched wide
fingertips touching both gold
to indigo
a rainbow of greens
To be the frisson
of a chord change
a line of poetry
when the hairs rise up
on arms
in private pleasure
To be the scent
of a child running
in from outside
in the fall–
dusky energy
and pine
I will
then
be grown.
Oh, lovely! Allison, this is my bedtime poem and I thank you for these “to be’s.”
Allison, I always love to read your poems. This one has so many lines I want to store in my memory. I can’t even choose one. This ending is just perfect:
To be the scent
of a child running
in from outside
in the fall–
dusky energy
and pine
I will
then
be grown.
Thank you for this poem today!
Oh, Allison, wow. I’m in awe and smiling over here, imaging those sweet Iowa greens–a rainbow of greens. Yes, I’ve seen all those shades and you have described it beautifully. Wow, just wow, with all those sweet dreams of what you can be.
Allison,
I am now craving the “god” potato salad. I enjoyed all your to bes this evening. Thank you for sharing.
Damn Allison, you have done everything with this prompt. Thank you. From splitting up “To be good / potato salad” which I wasn’t expecting and which I love, to the description of sounds and colors and smells throughout. Imagery so on point.
This has happened to me so many times while reading through poems today and yesterday:
“a line of poetry
when the hairs rise up
on arms
in private pleasure”
thank you for describing it so perfectly.
and lastly, my favorite lines:
“To be the scent
of a child running
in from outside
in the fall–
dusky energy
and pine”
puts me right back in my childhood when I smelled this way and makes me think of my niece and nephew and I loved being dirty like this. It’s beautiful because in those moments we were free and happy.
Thank you for writing!
Hello Angie, I love the prompt for today, and the flexibility to go along with it!
When I grow up!
When I was a little girl,
Many things I wanted to be,
A teacher, president, mom,
A whale trainer stands out to me.
Killer whales were my favorite,
I knew every their was to know,
I considered myself an expert,
In a dress with ribbons and bows.
Later, it was a basketball player,
The WBNA called my name,
I could spin a ball on my finger,
I had all the moves, I got game!
Later, it was an artist,
Drawing spoke to my soul,
I could draw anything and everything,
Then onto college with my portfolio!
Disney was calling my name,
I knew I wanted to animate,
3D environment modeling was my niche,
With a commercial under my belt to date.
Fast forward 15 years,
A marriage and 4 daughters later,
All of my dreams seem so far away,
They were put on the back burner.
Now I find myself in a classroom,
Teaching art to my daughters and their friends,
The happiest I’ve ever been,
Who knew in the end?
My whole life I thought I knew what I wanted,
I was so sure of that,
But after experiencing life,
I now know better than that.
Life is about choices,
About twists and turns along the way,
Knowing what really matters,
And what doesn’t matter anyway.
I don’t want to be an artist,
Or a whale trainer, or WNBA,
Being a teacher/mom has taught me,
Those important lessons in the best way.
What I want to be now, the most in the world,
I want to be an inspiration, a positive force,
A friend, hope, someone to be remembered,
Someone that my daughters will love most.
I want my students to learn,
To love, to empathize, to cherish,
When I’m thought of, a tear of happiness is shed,
If I’m not all of these things, I’ll have perished . . .
Maegan, what a sweet poem that tells your story with rhyme, even! It was fun to get to know you a bit through how you became a teacher. I can relate to having so many ideas as a kid. Yes to this:
Maegan, I’m so glad many people decided to talk about what they used to want to be and took us on a journey of how they came to be. I’ve loved reading about yalls lives and getting to know you more. WNBA and artist were definitely dreams for me at one time when I was young, young. Nice to see you allude to those. The artist thing not nearly as serious as you. Amazing that you became an art teacher – those are some of my favorite – and now you get to teach your daughter. So cool!! I absolutely love your wants in the last two stanzas. Thank you so much for writing!
Angie, thank you for this prompt today.
When I Grow Up
In grade school I wanted to grow up to be a famous actress
Or maybe a singer with all the pop hits
I middle school I wanted to grow up to be a doctor
Or maybe a lawyer making big bucks
In high school I wanted to grow up to a nanny
Or maybe a nurse as medical school would take too long
Now I just want to grow up to be the person my dogs believes I am. I want to be worthy of their faith in me to be a good person.
I want to be
DeAnna,
I think being the person your dogs believe you to be is wonderful! If only we could all look at the world through a dog’s eyes! I didn’t know about some of those aspirations… 😉
DeAnn, This is lovely, both as a tribute to the strength of pet-love and as a gentle welcoming of life’s true treasures. Thank you.
DeAnna, I think we all secretly want to be “the person my dog believes I am.” Indeed, our pets trust and love us unconditionally. I will carry this line with me. Thank you for sharing!
I wasn’t expecting this end but yes, as everyone has mentioned these lines are so great:
“Now I just want to grow up to be the person my dogs believes I am. I want to be worthy of their faith in me to be a good person.”
What a goal! Thank you for writing! ♥️
I love the way you set this up, and I makes me think about all the careers I wanted to be growing up. Ultimately, it’s not about the career as much as the character. Dogs are so special. Thanks, DeAnna!
I love Chen Chen! And this prompt! Would also love to use with students.
When I grow up I want to be
The coolest gay aunt ever to exist
A pro-bono midwife
A career wedding crasher
Applying lip gloss at a stoplight
Swimming all the way across the ocean
Calling all the shots in the NBA Replay Center in Secaucus, NJ
The last birthday candle burning, your only crush
A perfectly ripe avocado, exactly when you planned me
A 100% complete T-rex skeleton, somewhere kids can climb on me
The sky, meeting you at your edges, silently filling under your feet as you start each step
Oh, Shelby, there are so many amazing lines/images here! I’m guessing you may already be some of these things! Those last two stanzas are just perfect.
Shelby!!!!
This poem grabbed me in its first line and then only ascended, and ascended!
“A career wedding crasher” invited me to enter the poem with humor and abandon.
I, too, would love to be the “last birthday candle burning…the avocado…”
And then you slammed me home with your final line: “The sky, meeting you at your edges…” WIWI! (Wish I’d Written It)
Shelby, thank you for writing and sharing your words with us today! Like Mo earlier, I found so many great phrases/lines. My favorite is “The last birthday candle burning.” It makes me think about the birthday person’s wish, and what this last candle does to it. The final line sounds so beautifully enticing.
Shelby, how did you ever come up with these sweet and specific “want to be’s”
So much fun! “A pro-bono midwife” who would have thought of that, but I want to be one too. And that perfect avocado when needed. Well written, magical and so beautiful.
Wow, Shelby, you are SO cool. This is energetic and amazing and beautiful. So many things I never thought of are here. I love how you bounce around to many different things and end with that beautiful metaphor of being the sky with a person as they start their day. Thank you for embracing this prompt to the fullest!! 🙌🏼
Angie, we clicked! Two distinct lines are me! “To be a mom, earlier in life, knowing by now what kind of ten year old child I would have” and “To be a personal assistant because I don’t really care to tell people what to do but if you give me a list of things that need to be done, they’ll be done before this poem is over”. My daughter is 11, but when she turned 10….no comment. And, I love to do things, but I need someone to tell me to do them. Ha! These prompts that have me reminiscing about my childhood almost make me want to go back because life was easier then. Thank you for sharing today. I will place this in my toolbox for later use.
This was my easiest poem to write. I guess because there was no particular form. Or maybe it was because I just sat through a 1 1/2 Zoom and two more hours of required training. Once I started writing, the words just flew from my fingertips! A much-needed escape today. Thank you again!
Will I Ever Grow Up?
I like to contemplate life when I’m bored
because it distracts me from all the adulting I should be doing.
And it deters me from reminders of how much I have failed today.
But I celebrate those few hours when I decided to “Just Do It” and get it over with (adulting that is).
Pondering my childhood careers, my responses were typical…boring.
Nurse-who doesn’t?
Respiratory Therapist- I almost did…until I saw someone pass away while shadowing at the hospital.
So teacher was left. Why? Because my godparents, play mamas, and my dad all were.
Is it really my calling? I’m not so sure.
But since I spent 4 ½ semesters and thousands of dollars beginning to prepare for it, why not.
Enough adulting, here’s my list!
When I grow up:
I want my clothes to fit better,
I want to fit better in my friend circles.
I want my friend circles to expand (just slightly).
I want to expand my list of travel to places.
I want to travel to places I can’t pronounce.
I want to can’t pronounce the awe of the new adventures I await.
I want to delay the await of getting older (I’m feeling it already).
I want to be getting older in my passion for learning.
I want to be learning at my local library and retire there.
How fun would that be?
Jessica, I’m so glad this poem flew from your fingertips so easily! Amazing! Of course, such a clever thing to do with the repetition of a phrase or word from the previous line. It sounds great and is so meaningful!
I clicked with you in these lines as well:
“I want my clothes to fit better,
I want to fit better in my friend circles…
I want to delay the await of getting older (I’m feeling it already).
I want to be getting older in my passion for learning.
I want to be learning at my local library and retire there.”
Yes, I’ve never thought of retiring there but um, yes, please!!! Thanks for sharing with us today!!
Jessica, how fun that last stanza is where you bounce down, repeating the end of the previous line. I especially love these two lines:
I guess I can relate to them today. Fun! I’m glad you had fun writing this poem too.
When I grow up I Want to Be
By Mo Daley 6/21/23
When I grow up, I want to be quiet
for as long as I want/need to be.
When I grow up, I want to choose my battles carefully,
or at least have fewer of them.
When I grow up, I want to be able to walk in a room confidently,
not wondering if there might be toilet paper trailing from the bottom of my shoe.
When I grow up, I want to be the woman
who walks up to the airline ticketing agent and says,
“Get me a ticket on the next plane out of here!”
When I grow up, I want to show those I love
how deeply they are loved
Every. Single. Day.
Mo,
I love and want to say this too: “Get me a ticket on the next plane out of here!” The freedom of time and finances to say that is freeing. Thanks for your beautiful poem.
Mo–I have a feeling you accomplish your last wish every day… and would you mind getting a plane ticket for me while you’re at it??
Mo, I was just journaling about this the other night, so thanks for presenting this gift today. The last stanza, especially the last line, spoke to me the most today.
I just love how your subtle humor shows through with the toilet paper and dialogue but you also mix it with such sincere sentiments like the last stanza. So, so good Mo. Thank you.
Mo,
Yes, yes, yes!! I love every line and second those thoughts, every one! Well done.
Mo, what a fun thing to do–walk up to the ticket agent and say,
That would be a kick.
There were many thoughts I had as I read each line slowly. Your poem got me thinking about my own wishes and wondering about life. I would say that’s a successful poem.
Thank you for this prompt! It was an exercise in self-love for me, who is never satisfied and often telling myself I’m not doing enough. Perhaps I didn’t quite meet the goal of the prompt but I think my therapist would like this one 🙂
What I Want To Be (maybe tomorrow)
When it’s tomorrow
I want to be excited about things
The little things
like good tacos and sunny winter days
little kids learning to read
I want to enjoy myself
I want to play
I want relish being a mother
like really, really relish it
the way other moms seem to
Tomorrow
I want to be productive
and active
and cleaner
and responsible
and capable
funny
charming
crafty
witty
understanding
knowledgeable
flexible
athletic
content
But for today
I will be
just a little bit
grumpy
lazy
scattered
stubborn
forgetful
ignorant
and rest
knowing
that even now
I love them
and they love me, too
even as what I am
today
Sarah, I really like what you did with the prompt today. I found myself nodding my head in agreement with your list of things you’d like to be. But I really enjoyed the stanzas about today. Sometimes, that’s the stuff we really need to hear! It’s all good!
“But for today
I will be
just a little bit
grumpy
lazy
scattered
stubborn
forgetful
ignorant
and rest”
I loved the turn you took here. We always have such high expectations for ourselves–little do we know what a good, if imperfect, job we are doing every day.
Sarah B, thank you for sharing! I love the concept of “When it’s tomorrow”. It’s always easier for me to think that I will be a better person tomorrow. The conclusion is the affirmation I need to have on repeat, especially on days where I feel “grumpy / lazy / scattered”. Thanks for the vulnerability and for sharing.
Sarah, the way you put these words together is on point! absolutely loved these lines:
“and rest
knowing
that even now
I love them
and they love me, too
even as what I am
today”
yes, y’all will love each other no matter what! You definitely met the goal of the prompt and we also love it! 😀
Sarah, brava, my friend! Wow, I love the self-love here. It is easy to say what we want to be or wish to be, but to embrace what you are and be content there and loved and loving in the midst is just perfect. You are an inspiration for me today!
(I’m so glad you joined this week in writing and sharing your poems. Welcome to this community!)
Angie, thank you for being here again, and for these two great mentor poems and your sweet examples. Angie, I love your poem and how it gives glimpses of longer stories, unknown to us, but so very significant in the intimate telling of the sweeping mentions.
Thank you, too, to Jessica, Jennifer and Leilya for being our mentors. It’s been a great few days of poetry.
When I Grow Up, I Want to be a List of Love
(after Chen Chen and Angie Braaten)
To be a room
full of welcome. To be
on the same team as you, where we will win the
World Series and the World Cup as we
contend against rivals in life. To be
Patient and always treat you as if
you didn’t learn that yet. To be
patient when you forget.
To be love all year.
To be joy in the morning.
To be hope in the mourning.
To play all the games.
To laugh and smile even when you don’t want to.
To let you know that you are the one
and you are enough.
Oh Denise. I’m honored to have my name in the subtitle of your poem. It is so beautiful.
“To be joy in the morning.
To be hope in the mourning.”
What an amazing use of words in these two lines and what a beautiful sentiment.
“To let you know that you are the one
and you are enough.”
These lines also, something everyone should be told by many different people in their life. Thank you for sharing this work of art with us today!
Denise, thanks for sharing these lines
Patient and always treat you as if
you didn’t learn that yet. To be
patient when you forget.
They inspire us to think of our roles in an out of the classroom. It’s also reflecting the GOLDEN RULE. Patience in both these settings is what most of us want.
Thanks for the reminder.
This poem is lovely and comforting.
I too want to be “a room full of welcome.”
every line in this poem embodies true kindness.
Your poem is so sweet, Denise. I realy like your last stanza- the idea of playing ALL the games is amazing!
Denise, I love this ending, “To let you know that you are the one / and you are enough.” This inspired me to emphasize to my people that they are enough just the way they are. Which is also a good reminder for myself, too.
Denise, this poem is beautiful and really embodies the type of kind I also want to see and be. I especially love the play on morning and mourning, and the stanza about patience.
Hello Denise, I LOVE your poem, so inspirational! I loved your line “To be joy in the morning, To be hope in the mourning,” so poignant! I wish I could write like this, this was so positive, such a feel good read, thank you!
What a beautiful tribute to the one you love. I love the stanza about patience, so necessary in long love, and then the last line speaks to me personally (enough was my One Little Word last year).
Thank you and the other hosts for starting off my summer with such thought provoking prompts.
When I grow up
I want to be
the person
I stubbornly
refuse to be.
Cool tempered
not just for others,
but for my own
mistakes,
stresses,
and foibles.
Someone who
makes time
to take care of
myself
instead of
feeling guilty
for putting
myself first
every so often.
Even writing
these words,
I feel contrite
for considering
putting anyone’s
needs behind
my own.
I am
rife with advice
to my students
and my sons
about caring
for themselves–
making sure
they’re healthy,
body and mind–
but that
doesn’t apply
to me.
When I grow up,
I want to
take care
of myself.
Oh, I think all of us here can relate to your poem, Cara. It’s in the nature of what we do, and times two if you have your own children also! But it’s definitely necessary.
“When I grow up,
I want to
take care
of myself.”
Well, you’re 40 min. more grown now, put on a good show and relax on the couch! 🙂 so glad you took time to write today! 🤗
Cara, well done. I wasn’t trying to write the poem I did today. I had someone on my mind. I intended to write one like you did! And your poem has inspired me to try a redo. I love the conclusion, and the repetition of “When I grow up,” at the end. Have a wonderful summer of self-care! Thanks for the inspiration.
Cara, doesn’t this prompt make us feel like writing about NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS!
Your lines,
When I grow up,
I want to
take care
of myself.
remind us of the resolution most educators make at the beginning of the school year, and again at the beginning of summer vacation. Maybe we should print them out and tape them to the mirror we see first thing each morning. 🙂
Thanks for articulating a truth, most of us hold and expect to experience, by the time we grow up. 🙂
Cara, I love this. I especially like how you create a little tension in your poem with these words, “Even writing / these words, / I feel contrite / for considering / putting anyone’s / needs behind / my own. ” I have certainly felt that before. You demonstrate that push and pull well.
Cara, your poem spoke to me and I’m sure also to so many of us. I especially enjoyed these lines, “to take care of
myself
instead of
feeling guilty
for putting
myself first
every so often.”
As you know, we must put ourselves first but I know its challenging especially when we put our students first as teachers. Enjoy your summer off and only focus on yourself and your family. Thank you for this today. !
Cara,
This poem is so you. I have told you more than once you cannot fill the cups of your students if your cup is empty or low. You have done a wonderful job here of reminding your self to take care of you, now you just have to do it.
I know, easier said than done.
I relate to this poem a lot and I know that many more teachers do/would too 🙂 I especially love, “I want to be / the person / I stubbornly refuse / to be.” Amazing and simple way of putting into words that feeling of being torn between parts of ourselves.
Cara, what a wonderful poem about self-care! It’s so important, I smiled when I read the line “I want to be the person I stubbornly refuse to be,” that is pure TRUTH! Mike drop moment in your poem! And of course I loved the addition of your children, for me that always makes a poem more personable and relatable.
Does a haiku ever dream of being a limerick,
leaving all those stuffy nature images behind,
stretching its legs (and syllables) to see what
all the fuss is about and finally meet that man
from Nantucket?
I doubt it.
Or what of the sonnet? Is there ever the need
or desire for it to “become” an ode or sestina
or, Heaven forbid, a villanelle? Ever the want
for it to “become” an epic, telling tales of Greek
heroes of yore?
I doubt it.
Then let us just say that once my mind was made
up to be a teacher of English Literature, there were
no rewrites necessary. Now, would my life be different
as another “verse”? Certainly. Would it be somehow
“better”?
I doubt it.
_________________________________________________
Thank you, Angie, for another challenging prompt! Your mentor poem was replete with sincerity and truth, and I want to thank you for that, too!
Scott, I love the lack of doubt – “there were
no rewrites necessary.” Bravo!
Oh, Scott, what a joy to read your poem and its heartfelt affirmation of your choice to be a literature teacher. I wish everyone could feel that they never had to have doubts from the path they walked. That is so beautiful. The first two stanzas were a perfect set up too! So fun and true! Yes, “I doubt it.”
I love that almost everyone wouldn’t change a thing about their life. Speaks volumes of the work of educators. I enjoyed your description of poems possibly wanting to be other poems and of course your attitude towards certain poems, lol! Thanks for writing, Scott!
Scott–I believe that you have become exactly who you were meant to be, just as all those haikus and sonnets. I doubt that you would choose anything else the second time around. And I am glad you are here to share yourself with us!
To see what all the fuss is about and finally meet that man from Nantucket!! I love the somehow silly, dry, and sincere tone you’ve created in this poem! I’m so glad as well that you’re so confident in your career.
You’re pretty used to hearing this from me, Scott . . . your poems bring such a chuckle to me. You are so witty and clever.
Angie, thank you for helping me spend time remembering my mom on her heavenly birthday! This was just what I needed! 🥰🥰
Your poem’s honesty and transparency are what we all need. I especially loved this:
A Grown-Up Conversation on a Sunny Summer Day
Happy birthday, Mommie!
Happy first day of summer!
Guess what?
I’m all grown up now.
Remember all the advice
you gave when I was 19?
I didn’t listen or learn then
but I know now, because
you said when I grow up
I would understand.
I had no idea I would be 50
when it all finally made sense.
Is that when you grew up too?
We never talked about aging
and to expect you to show up
in my reflection and in my cursive.
How I would see your old friend
and she’d say I grew up to sound
and look just like you.
And how I would watch my children
become adults who perhaps
someday, would have children too.
That’s when I would grow up
to be a grandmother who
might still be able to teach the babies
to swim, to spell, to love words
or to rock them to sleep
and smell your sweet scent
waft through the open window.
©Stacey L. Joy, 6/21/23
Stacey,
This is a lovely approach to the poeming today, to do it in dialogue or a letter to your mother. I appreciate your offering us this intimacy to witness your chat and questions with your mother who we have come to know a bit through you and your poetry. Indeed, she lives in you — all that you “didn’t listen” has grown in you to “sound/and look just like” and then this turn toward “would have” and “would grow up” and “might still” is a hope and maybe a longing “to swim, to spell, to love words” in ways to keep your mother’s being in the next generation.
Love that “waft through” in the final line.
Peace,
Sarah
I’m sure your mom is smiling down on you and your family. What a wonderful tribute. I also enjoyed how you intertwined the different roles of mother and how we turn into what we are taught. Thank you for sharing.
Stacey, there is so much love emanating through every line of this poem. What a wonderful twist, to write to your Mom “on her heavenly birthday.” I relate so much to these lines,
“I had no idea I would be 50
when it all finally made sense.”
Well, Fran made me cry yesterday, and you did it today, Stacey. Absolutely beautiful. I’m so glad this prompt allowed you to have a conversation with your mother and to share it with us. It not only brought tears but chills as well with these lines:
“We never talked about aging
and to expect you to show up
in my reflection and in my cursive.”
I absolutely love your end to the poem with her scent still there, even in the distant future with her great grandchildren around 🤗
Stacey, peace to you today. I am so glad you had an opportunity to write this today. What a lovely day for a birthday. She needed the longest day of the year to hold her sunshine. I love the dreaming you do of your future grandchildren and all those wonderful activities, but especially the note to your mom: “smell your sweet scent”
Stacey, I too loved how you approached this topic today. I like that you asked questions while also reflecting on your life and hers at the same time. As we get older, I think most women see their mothers in the mirror and I loved the way you brought in your children to this too. Fabulous job today. Thank you !!
Resisting When
extend your exhale to
slow your heart rate
it is beating for you
notice your breath in
stretch that step until
you must lift your foot
yes, that’s it notice
zip your barren womb
let your abdomen hold
you up watch that tender
teacher bladder abused
for decades, exhale that
hurt, a mile to go, no just
this step and this one
a plane is taking off or is
it landing back to your breath
I know I am breathing in and
now out turning the corner
what if this is it, this is
purpose to be present now
no yesterday no tomorrow
now you’re holding your
breath again breathe
Sarah, you’ve nailed my “monkey mind” during breath work! Resisting When, perfect title.
Savoring this! 🧘🏽♀️
This line
“it is beating for you”
feels so powerful to me, how we draw our personal strength and fortitude from within. I have read your poem several times now, and I am captivated by this line. Just beautiful! Thank you for this meditative poem.
I am just going to save this in my notes and read it when I see a high blood pressure reading or my Apple Watch buzzes and tells me I have a high heart rate while resting. This is the poem I needed right now. Thank you, Sarah.
“now you’re holding your
breath again breathe”
yes, yes, yes.
Sarah, well played. Hearing you coach yourself, as well as all the distractions, is so relatable in running, relaxation or any number of activities. You have given us such a glimpse. Here is my favorite advice today:
Sarah, I love the continual recentering in this inner monologue! There is a real relatable truth here, the kind of self-talk that keeps me running when I exercise, too: “stretch that step until / you must lift your foot / yes … exhale that / hurt, a mile to go, no just / this step and this one … you’re holding your / breath again breathe.” Thank you for capturing this!
Sarah,
This is a perfect poem for the summer solstice with its emphasis on breath and breathing, even though I know it’s about running. You’ve captured much of how I felt Saturday as I pushed and lifted my bike peddles. Just one more until that last stop. Focus on the pumping and breathing and nature in the present moment and try not to think about my age and the nine years since I’d ridden 50!miles. But the most touching part of the poem for me is
“zip your barren womb
let your abdomen hold
you up”
For me the womb becomes a weight weakened by the effects of carrying two babies, even though that was so very long ago.
Angie, this must be TRUE CONFESSIONS month! Your prompt reminds me that though I’ve had several decades of birthdays, I’ve not really changed all that much.
temper, TEMPER, TEMPER!
“When I grow up, “I used to say,
“I surely hope life won’t be this way.”
When other people’s opinions so often sway
What I believe I should be.
“When I grow up, I want to be more like my name.
I’m tall, not Small. It’s just not the same
Don’t mean I’ll be anonymous, but I’m not looking for fame.
“When I grow up, I hope my temper will be under control
So I won’t get punished and have to live out of sight like the troll.
Under a bridge instead of crossing it.
Wish I didn’t give in to having a fit
When kids tease me about my name and my size.
What would it be like to have smaller feet and thinner thighs?”
I now know it’s up to me to temper my temper.
But not sulk and whimper when folks do not like the real me.
This is me! What you see, deal with it, or you’ll deal with me!
Just you watch and see!
Temper, Anna? Temper? I love how the poems still bring new dimensions of our selves to this space, and those exclamation points in the final lines tell the truth of your refusal to be tempered. “This is me! What you see, deal with it…”
Sarah
“to temper my temper.” – those four words are so fun together, how temper helps temper !
Haha, gotta love English!
Anna!! Thank you for the truth and honesty here. And the confidence you give off especially in these lines:
“This is me! What you see, deal with it, or you’ll deal with me!
Just you watch and see!”
Amazing. I can have an attitude but haven’t come around to embracing it. It can be a blessing or more often a curse! 🙈
Anna I just loved this!!! Your poem was such a fluent read, so often I struggle to find rhymes that don’t seem like I’m trying too hard, for you it seems effortless! I loved the line about “Being under the bridge instead of crossing it,” a very powerful metaphor! Thank you for sharing, I love how so many of these poems seem to be about the types of people we all want to be and not a profession! Their is good in this world!
Anna, sweet!
I love “temper my temper” and
Actually, that whole last stanza is my favorite part of this gem.
Growing Up
I attended the Ice Capades twice a year
when I was young and I just knew I would
grow up to become Dorothy Hamill.
She made skating look
easy and effortless.
Weeks later at my first attempt at lessons
I was flabbergasted to learn the
ice was colder than I imagined,
that falling down hurt and those skinny blades
sometimes put cuts on your fingers.
During middle school, I switched to the idea
of being a flight attendant.
The thought of jet setting everywhere and
traveling for free appealed to me.
Then during a flight to Texas, a stewardess
had to clean vomit off of the floor, was yelled at
by nervous flyers and had to pretend to
be alright with it.
Plus I heard they had to keep their weight
under a certain number that I was inching
towards in high school.
Around that same time, I took one of those
aptitude/career tests and it said
“lawyer” so I attended college with that in mind.
My one and only LSAT exam score after graduation
threw me into business management, my degree program.
I’d avoided all talk of being in the classroom since
mom and dad were both teachers.
However pushing papers and answering telephones
for three years only made me frustrated and unenthused.
One day, my brilliant Daddy tried a different approach.
He lured me into education with the dream that I could finally
afford the used German car I wanted AND the fact that
I would never have to work at the mall again
during the Christmas holidays.
After three days of intense thinking, I was ready to
become a day-to-day Substitute
I did, though, feel at the time that I was settling.
When you attend an HBCU, they indoctrinate you with
the idea of changing the world, discovering cures,
managing employees, giving inspirational speeches, traveling
abroad and earning six-figure incomes.
My African-American female supervisor shunned the
idea when I gave my notice saying “Black women
could only be nurses or teachers years ago. You’re making
a mistake and settling….” I stopped listening as she continued
disrespecting my parents plus I never liked her anyway.
I didn’t start subbing, however, with a consistent, energetic,
positive attitude all the time.
Thankfully I worked at my mother’s school, so she
opened every door, created lessons, provided hugs, fussed at
misbehaving students for me and translated acronyms.
It took about six months for me to fully comprehend
how imperative and powerful Educators are.
Thirty-three years later
I’m still committed, thrilled, appreciative, and exhausted.
By Seana Hurd Wright
Seana,
That list in the end of “opened every door, created lessons, provided hugs, fussed” is striking to me at the vast work of teachers (and mothers) supporting teachers. I imagine you have supported many, many in your 33 years, and yes to the last two words “and exhausted.”
Sarah
Thank you for sharing your journey of becoming a teacher. Very impressive how your love and admiration for your parents is at the heart of this journey – your many students owe a big thanks to your Mom looking out for you, encouraging you, when you were a sub. Just wonderful!
Oh wow, Seana. I’m completely captivated reading about your journey of what you wanted to be and how you became! Thank you for sharing this with us! The flight attendant story you witnessed is funny. And I chuckled at “I never liked her anyway”.
How special to have your mother’s (and father’s) guidance on your teaching journey. Thank you for writing!!
Seanna, thanks so much for sharing specifics of your journey to becoming a teacher committed to rectifying issues you observed earlier mainly because you had parents who believed in you! Do Lord, help us to be as patient with our own children and students as your parents seem to have been with you.
Look! It’s paid off for them and hundreds of students. Keep up the good work … after you rest and rejuvenate this summer. 🙂
Seana,
what a great story of your journey to becoming a teacher. You have added such wonderful details and joy throughout the journey. Yes! You prove this last line throughout the poem:
Thank you!
Angie,
I loved the non-prejudiced oxygen, and how it ended with the or, or, or….Nothing says thinking about the dream and all it’s potential like the point where we hit those or, or, or spots of enthusiasm.
Thanks so much for the prompt today! I got a little too clunky yesterday with thinking about being 59, so today it had to be more about fun.
TURNING OF THE EARWORMS
When I grow up I will stand close to you
and stop believin’,
I will talk about Bruno,
and go breakin’ your heart.
When I grow up I will speak,
and I do want to miss a thing,
I will stop before I get enough,
and I will forget about you.
When I grow up I will bring you down,
and dream it’s over,
bogart that joint,
and set the world on fire.
When I grow up I will watch Rikki lose that number,
mammas letting babies be cowboys,
I will know how it feels,
I will rock the jukebox.
When I grow up I will chase waterfalls,
get on your cloud,
I will go back to Rockville…
I will stop thinkin’ bout tomorrow.
Oh, what an eclectic jukebox of the tunes’ opposites that create a rich poem! I have read it through a few times now, hearing each line with the artist singing it the original way, and then without the music. I love that you will watch Rikki lose that number!! To begin with The Police and end with Fleetwood Mac is divine. Borrowed twisted lines work well here in this poem, and it’s such fun! Great walk down memory lane….the song remembers when!
When I grow up, I will still be listening to music, too! I really enjoy all the different melodies that wander through my brain with every line of your poem.
Haha, this is awesome!! What fun and so creative to take the prompt in this direction. Made me smile and sing in my head! Thank you, Rex!!
Well thank you for this, I drove six hours today with the kids and I have six more tomorrow, this will make a great playlist!
I am always impressed with the way music influences your poetry, but you have outdone yourself this time! All those lines–you take me back to such a variety of places and times…
Rex, I loved being “in the know” for many of these tunes! There were so many lines that had me smiling broadly: “I will talk about Bruno,” “and I will forget about you,” “I will watch Rikki lose that number,” and “[w]hen I grow up I will chase waterfalls.” This was a lot of fun! Thank you!
Oh, Rex! I am so glad I found your poem tonight! This is both a howl of glee and of recognition. Thank you for this ROMP into what our teen-selves wanted and what our now-selves still need. Wonderful.
Thank you Angie for a fantastic prompt!
Growdown Turnaround
When I grow up,
I’ll empty my cup.
Turn it all around,
and decide to grow down.
Change the mistakes,
Remove candles from the cakes.
Replay all the good,
seal notches from the wood.
Appreciate more, complain less,
Untangle my thought process.
Love deeper in a moment,
Clench it! because I want it.
Undo all the hurt,
Live instead of work.
Play and play,
Pray and pray.
Connect with the spirit,
Listen more and hear it.
Do as He directed,
My pain corrected.
Return to mother’s breast,
and thumps of fathers chest.
Where sleep is best,
pure infant rest.
As I grow down,
I’ll change it all around.
Then I’ll begin, again,
Honorable as I ascend.
No grudges and no hate,
as candles return to the cake.
I’ll grow into a man of integrity,
Respect, love, and prosperity.
I’d embrace life as I should,
as notches return to the wood.
A delight it would be,
to return as the new me.
All my anger and anxiety,
would not be inside me.
As I grow down to grow up,
I’ll slowly fill my cup,
with all the fixings,
blessings, hugs, and a smile,
the mind of a man with the heart of a child.
“But this will never be,
because I am who is me.
Fortunately, Unfortunately,
my path created creativity,
to re- live my life imaginatively,
My mind is what sets me free.”
-Boxer
Boxer, the growing down and reversing to land at the beginning and do it all over again with how things should be – – what a concept! I can see the camera doing the time lapse both ways, and it’s fascinating to wonder what it would be like if we could take all we know and have a redo.
“Turn it all around,
and decide to grow down.”
This feels so true, the older I get – so much more reflective looking back, so much less inhibition, an increasing awareness of the importance of being childlike.
Boxer, I’ve many times pondered being able to redo things, have a do over. And you express these thoughts in such a great way here. I wasn’t sure if the quotes and italics at the end were a reference to someone else’s words but I don’t think so. But they sound like published words or words that need to be published and would be quoted famously. Awesome job. Thank you for writing!
When I grow up I hope
To find the right words or simply to be
at peace with my fumbles, knowing you
hear my best intentions. To be welcomed
as a soft rain on parched flowers.
To be jogging in that rain with you. Or to be dancing in it. Or to listen
from the porch. To be laughing alongside
you.
To be a ladybug on the windowsill,
knowing every word you say, dear child
as you unwind and chatter before sleep. To turn these playful musings
into a dreamy picture book, one that
melts hearts of the vindictive and cruel
and there is love
throughout the world
because of you
Maureen,
This is sublime. I believe you’ve found the right words for this prompt and for the circumstances you describe. Now write that picture book. I can see the porch, the rain, the child, and you in my mind. It’s all lovely and necessary.
Glenda–I agree. But I think she has already written it, right here on Open Write! I can already see myself sharing this with my granddaughter. So, get busy, Maureen!
Maureen, I feel the omniscient presence through the future years, steering, guiding, being present in all of nature right down to the rain and the ladybug on the windowsill. That’s a great thought of hope for the future no matter which side of life we are on.
OMG Maureen!! This is absolutely beautiful. I am so glad that I am hosting this prompt otherwise I may not have read this gem. I don’t think I can pick a favorite line or liens. They are all masterful. I just love how you centered this around being with and doing things and being things that are close to the “you”. Just beautiful 🙌🏼
Oh, my heart! Maureen, thank you for this beauty. It is hard to find my favorite line too, but today it might be:
“to be
at peace with my fumbles, knowing you
hear my best intentions.”
Yes, little ones are amazing that way, aren’t they?
Thank you, Angela. All our Hope’s and dreams are contained in the future. I wanted to be so many things. But most of all I didn’t want to lose my curiosity.
Grow up?
Never ever!
I vow to keep my spirit
My wild enthusiasm,
My carefree joy.
I will need them as I age.
Like a shield and sword,
I will wield my joy,
Spread it over my bones,
I won’t ever grow up!
Keep that smile,
Keep that curious mind,
Never ever let go
Of that playful heart!
Yay, Joanne! You go! The spirit and vivacity sings in this poem. How true is it that we’ll need this as we age – I can imagine a life of wild enthusiasm and carefree joy (and hope the energy hangs in there to achieve it). Seeing them as a shield and sword to keep melancholy at bay speaks to this battle we face in aging. Keep on curiousing and playfuling!
Joanne,
Im making this poem my mantra: “Never grow up.” I’m so many ways, I was more grown up at 16 than I am now. Bring on the “wild enthusiasm” and “carefree joy.” We need these as children and as adults,
Such free spirit in your poem. I never want to grow up either . I love the shield and sword!!!
Joanne, holding on to the wonder of childhood is a worthy calisthenic. I see the adult coloring books and think of the puzzles I still enjoy and I understand the quest to remain awed by the playfulness you describe here.
Yes!!! I hear you and chorus you – “I won’t ever grow up!” Wonderful!
Beautiful figurative language here Joanne:
“Like a shield and sword,
I will wield my joy,
Spread it over my bones,”
Your personality shines in this poem and I LOVE it!!! “My carefree joy” resonates with me as some of my students labeled me the “carefree” teacher this year. Umm in some ways yes, but not all! HA!
This is an empowering, spiritual poem,
I want to sing this line to little girls everywhere, forever.
“Keep that smile,
Keep that curious mind,
Never ever let go
Of that playful heart!”
Angie,
Thank you for doing double-duty hosting this week. I really like Chen Chen’s poem, especially the title. Your poem is full of hope and possibility. I can’t help but think of how you can still make it happen! Dream and do!
When I grow…
from who I am
today
into who I’ll be
tomorrow &
the day after and
the day following &
all the days remaining
on the downhill
slide of this privileged
life
before my body
returns to the green
grass
I want to live in a
Mary Oliver poem &
be all the best words:
grateful
for each day
present
in each moment
kind
to people, pets, & planet
I want to
pay attention
notice & nurture nature
& fall down
onto my knees
into the grass
because I know
I have only one
wild and precious life
to live.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
How else should I have lived?
—Glenda Funk
June 21, 2023
*A nod to “A Sumner Day” by Mary Oliver whose poem popped into my mind late in my process today.
This is so perfect, Glenda! Mary Oliver seems to be the perfect poet to reference to process what we want to be when we grow up!
Glenda, love this! I am a fellow Mary Oliver fan. Wonderful poem!
Glenda, you capture our turn on the great wheel of time and the span we have to enjoy all we can, while we can in our life. I love that you want to live in a Mary Oliver poem – – me, too, friend! That one wild and precious life beckons us to get out and savor each day. My Ollie is named for Mary Oliver – – he, too, loves to savor the outdoors and all the smells and movements of nature. Lovely words today, and I love that it ended with a question.
Perfect, Glenda!!
“on the downhill
slide of this privileged
life”
What better to hope for than Mary Oliver… love this!
Glenda, this poem feels like a stepping forward, into each day within your life and while it nods to the past, it’s also very much in the present – a tricky thing to do. I read these lines differently the second time through : “grateful for each day, present in each moment, kind to people, pets, and planet” became (because of where they sat on my computer with the first line cut off) “for each day present, in each moment kind, to people, pets, and planet I want to pay attention” and I loved how that made me more present in your words too. Lovely poem.
Glenda, this was the poem I wish I would have written today! (Or, you know, one that is like this poem, lol.) “I want to live in a / Mary Oliver poem & / be all the best words.” Such a cool line and good idea! It makes me wonder what poems I would step “into” if given the chance. This is such a fun idea. Thanks for this!
“I want to live in a
Mary Oliver poem”
Me,too, Glenda! Here’s to this one wild and precious life, and all the joy from all beings!
Ooo Glenda I love the ending with questions. And these lines do it for me, make me want that as well:
“I want to
pay attention
notice & nurture nature
& fall down
onto my knees
into the grass”
Beautiful Mary Oliver inspired poem!!
Oh, Glenda, so lovely to see your approach in this poem and some symmetry with mine as I also considered presence and noticing. Indeed, Mary Oliver is a much needed muse as we think of what we will do and be with this one precious life. Every year with eighth graders, we’d close with several weeks imagining our answers in the decade to come; they’d research their hopes and dreams, closing the year in presentations dressed and speaking as their 24 year old selves. Loved that tons. Thank you for stirring that memory for me.
Peace,
Sarah
Oh, wow, on this longest day of the year, I am sitting here enjoying the sweet breeze in this still sunny late evening in the PNW, and picturing you appreciating your precious life. I love so much…
and this, which says so much:
Thank you, dear Glenda!
Once again, you have offered a prompt that makes me explore something I wouldn’t have considered before. I wish we could all be oxygen against racism. I’ve come to understand it’s in my DNA, placed there inadvertently by my ancestors. Admitting that, I can try to breathe cleaner air.
When I Grow Up, I Want to Be a Painting
everyone stops to see,
gathering strength or inspiration,
a deep inhale of peace.
Maybe a child will look
at new possibilities– a future
of clean air, open fields, enough
food, enough, enough
of all that he longs for.
I want to be a place
where people belong, a sanctuary
of solace.
When I grow up,
I want to be like my father
comforting an troubled victim of Parkinson’s
telling him everything will be OK.
Am I OK?
I love all of your words, Margaret, but particularly that you want to be a place where people belong, a sanctuary of solace. My mother, too, died of Parkinson’s with Lewy Body Dementia and the troubling look was always there behind the uncertain furrowed brow. The moments of reality were the real torment, I believe. Yes, I want to be there with you, too, comforting the troubled who are caught in the wicked grips of Parkinson’s Disease. What a beautiful way to want to live as you grow – being a nurturing comforter, assuring all that they are OK even when you question your own OKness.
Margaret, I don’t think I’ve ever contemplated wanting to be a painting but your words make me do (and yearn to be) exactly that. That thread of peace and solace carries us through to your end and your father comforting someone he loves and your want to do the same. There’s a doubting and worry and reaching out in those last words “Am I OK?” Hugs and comfort to you today.
Margaret,
I love the quiet nurturing that comes with your poem. The title really sets the stage, as I feel we take something special from that one painting that changes our perspective. A sanctuary of solace is another great abstraction of altruistic love, waiting for the opportunity to heal someone.
Wow, Margaret. I love the way you took this. Wanting to be a painting that could possibly change someone’s life. These are by far the most beautiful lines for me:
“Maybe a child will look
at new possibilities– a future
of clean air, open fields, enough
food, enough, enough
of all that he longs for.”
I wish that for everyone in the world. It should be true and I hope you are ok, or soon. Hugs and thank you for writing! 🤗🤗
Margaret, there is so much beauty here. I’m struck especially with this thought today. Such a beautiful idea and the words are rich and perfect together.
Angie.
What wonderful prompts you have provided us. I love how linked they are. Your poem is a gem, especially these lines:
Oh, To Embrace Purple
When I grow up, I want to be
exactly who I am.
Pondering alternative lives
feels like a betrayal to the life I live.
I tend to stay in my lane
navigating familiar
roads and streets and highways
in fear that journeying off
might lead me down a path
into desolate and maybe dangerous territory.
I try not to yearn
for what I don’t have
things I haven’t done
places I haven’t seen.
Lack of ambition?
Lack of adventurous spirit?
Lack of playful imagining?
Probably all of those.
I prefer safe.
Even pondering or pretending
what my life may have held
or may yet hold
makes me uncomfortable.
I couldn’t even find a way
to make this fun prompt
work today.
If only I were Jenny Joseph
and could embrace nonconformity
and pen
“When I am an old woman I shall wear purple,
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.”
When I grow up,
I guess I’ll just wear black and grey and tan
and live the life I’m living
assuming (hoping) it suits me just fine.
Well isn’t this the best possible way to start this poem: “When I grow up, I want to be
exactly who I am.” It’s a blessing to want to be who you are. I love that you accept who you are and don’t spend time wishing for “other”. Love the poem you reference. Thank you for writing, Susan!
Susan, I can’t help wondering how many thousands, millions, of women would trade places in a heartbeat to feel this level of confidence about blooming right where they are planted. There is a strong sense of belonging, and rich appeal about not needing to be part of a red hat club luncheon. Your stanza here shows that you are completely content to enjoy each moment as you choose to live it, and there is so much satisfaction in finding the joy at the threshold of one’s own dwelling and living so strongly in the moments right there. I, too, tend to yearn for the comfort in the blacks and grays and tans and the safe zones!
what my life may have held
or may yet hold
Susan, your first stanza is a truth teller – and it does indeed feel like a betrayal. Every path we ventured is meant for us (even if it’s a “black and grey and tan” one. We must be who we are (we can’t all check to see if the world isn’t flat or fly off into space or God forbid, journey to the Titanic in a tin can – for that exact reason). I prefer safe too and so completely relate to the “I couldn’t even find a way/to make this fun prompt/work today.” I often feel out of my lane and wish I could write like… I am so glad you did you today as your words are important.
Susan,
I love these lines:
“Pondering alternative lives
feels like a betrayal to the life I live.”
Maybe there is nonconformity in conformity given we live in a world where so many. behave in unconstrained ways when constraint is warranted.
Susan–when the Jenny Joseph poem first came out, I embraced it wholeheartedly. But I was so young then. Now, like you, I’m wearing black and grey and tan (and a little blue), and it really does suit me just fine. Cheers to us both!
Angie, the yearning in your poem today had me thinking about what childhood offers that adulthood does not. Your line about non-prejudiced oxygen is especially impactful. Thank you for offering us possibilities today, and reminders to be whatever we want in a world that defines so much for us already.
When I grow up I Want to Be-
-lieve in fairies
(blue fairies and god mothers and tinkerbells and pucks)
-come
(filling shoes too big for me in a dress up world)
-wild about rain
(puddles are for jumping)
-hold
(mornings with magic under the tree)
-stow
(trees for climbing like Jack)
-long
Jennifer—there is something magical about this poem. I can almost see the fairy dust. The repetition of all the be-ing makes me want to hug your poem. And the last—we all want to be-long, don’t we?
Jennifer, what you did here with the Be- beginning each longer word is captivating! The magic of childhood and the hopes and dreams and promise of the future is so real, so reachable, so attainable in the grasp into time from the perspective of a child. That last line, though – – that’s where it all matters so much, to the roots of who we are and how we live. You’ve written a winner today!
Jennifer, this whimsical “Be-” form works beautifully to convey the desire, childlike but not remotely childish, for the stuff of magic to last…so ethereal and delightful, stirring my own longings, and then – bam! – that last word. Is it not what we all long for more than anything else – to belong?? My bluebirds would say so…. they are blue streaks in the rain this gray morning, back and forth to the birdhouse on the deck, feeding babies I cannot see but soon will, when they finally emerge. They belong (it’s why the deck is waiting to be torn down and rebuilt)…and somehow as I read your words about blue fairies, god mothers, tinkerbells, pucks, filling too-big shoes, being wild about rain, morning with magic under the tree…well yes. I want it, too, and am watching it. Believe in the magic, for if you look for it it…it finds you. As it often does for me in your poems 🙂
Sooo creative, Jennifer! I love the verbs you have chosen, but my favorite is be-long. Yes, that may be most important for me 🙂
The play on be words is brilliantly crafted here. I love how you grabbed hold of a unique form and ran with it…into puddles, magic, climbing…then landing on belonging.
Jennifer . . . I am full of envy right now! I wish my brain had allowed me to go down this magical road of the things we wished for in childhood.
I absolutely LOVE how you kept the BE in the title line as a prefix then finished it with magical verb bases. Your use of parentheses just takes this next level. This is one of my favorite poems someone has shared to date!
Jennifer,
I love the clever use of dashes to connect to “be,” which happens to be my One Little Word this year. I also love the quiet created by your use of parentheses and the way these subordinate what’s in them to the other words.
Lovely and imaginative. Thank you!
Jennifer,
Such a simple and profound way of making your growing up an affirmation: things you will be. It is strange that by separation it really hammers home the importance of each of the words. I like the coupled use of the examples in the parenthesis, as it creates a rhythm in the patterns of illustration.
Ahhhh, yes! Clever way to express so many beautiful ways of “Be-ing” and enjoying everything!
Brilliant, my friend!
Angie— this prompt is a winner, and I want to be a judge along with you! If only we could have all the things we desire…
When I Grow Up
I’m going to be incredibly organized and my desk will only have the essentials on it and I will never lose my glasses and my carpets will have those vacuum-y lines on them all the time and I’ll only have expensive clothing that all goes together and I will call it my capsule wardrobe and I will organize the clothes by season and color and I will exercise every morning and I won’t waste time on reading novels I will only read history and self- help books and I will be really nice to everyone (except Annie Nickerson because she stole my sweater guard in third grade and it had bluebirds on it to hold my sweater on when I wore it like a cape)
Stop.
Let’s consider reality here…
I’m good.
Forget it.
Peter Pan had it right.
(But Annie Nickerson did steal my sweater guard, so I still won’t be nice to her.)
GJSands
6/21/23
Gayle, I laughed out loud over Annie Nickerson (both times), though I can’t blame her as your sweater guard sounds really nice. I love your honesty. When you make us stop and consider the reality – especially the book pile and the pile of cat in your lap. I thought of Peter Pan today too – one of my kids used to want to be him when he grew up and I just knew he didn’t want to grow up. Who really does?
Gayle, those vacuum-y lines are coveted carpet-cleaning evidence that would make folks turn their heads in my house… (you cleaned, I see?). I’m with you, wanting the clean barefoot walk across the living room rug. We need to find Annie Nickerson and give her a taste of some karma clogs, I’m afraid, my friend. I have never heard of a sweater guard, but I can envision it holding the shoulders together, and since yours had bluebirds on it, that’s definitely worth going after, even after all these years. OR it becomes the reason to release those bluebirds to the heavens and free Annie, and go on Amazon and buy yourself a new sheer shawl with bluebirds on it – and nest in its shoulder-warmth!
Gayle – what a GEM of a poem! First of all – I not sure I can get over the stealing of the sweater guard that had bluebirds on it. It may not be forgivable! I once had those lovely vacuum-y lines on a carpet (another lifetime ago) and now I only want vinyl plank everywhere. Novels – ! Never could I give them up! They have taught me more than anything except the poets and Scripture (although I’ve always loved biography and now stuff about nature; why is life so short??). I adore the connection to Peter Pan; there are too many demands, yes a LOT of work… but the wisdom in those two words “I’m good” conveys to me not merely dismissal but a sense of acceptance and gratitude. And with that comes freedom and joy. That is the gift of this poem!!
The parentheses use is strong today! Such great voice in this poem, Gayle! I love the prose at the beginning and STOPPING to get into reality, the poem.
“This sounds like a lot of work.” Yea, I know there are people in the world like what you have described at the beginning but I ain’t one of them and don’t know how they do it. Oh well. I absolutely love your description of your sweater guard – shows so much of your amazing personality!
You embraced the humor of the prompt and I love how you repeated the vacuum lines. And the specificity of Annie Nickerson. Those things that happen to us when we are young can often not be forgiven. I can’t forgive Sabrina Haney. But that’s a poem for another day.
Gayle,
You and I are in sync today as I also thought about all the effort necessary to imagine an alternate reality for myself. I’m writing this comment from the couch in my living room as one dog crowds my feet into a fetal ball and the other snores from the floor and I watch the trees sway in the breeze from under a faux mink blanket on a cold morning. It is enough. It is a satisfying moment.
Angie – oh, the places you take us with these prompts! Endless possibilities…many of your reflections and desires truly resonate with me: to be a more outgoing/talkative person; to be more patient and loving with the ones I love; to be some spirit who doesn’t allow (evil) things to happen. Yet I believe my favorite line of all is the personal assistant one – “if you give me a list of things that need to be done, they’ll be done before this poem is over” – this so reveals your energy and industry, and the great satisfaction of being productive. You’re a person I want on my team! A close second favorite is “To be a mom, earlier in life, knowing by now what kind of ten year old child I would have” – what a world of story in that one line!! Thank you for your courageous writing and for hosting; you’re a true inspiration.
For some reason, my poem wanted to be a pantoum, so here goes…
Some Small Offering
When I grow up, I’ll write the book
I’ve carried deep within me
Stories —my life’s blood—
I’ll siphon into little crystal vials
I’ve carried deep within me
a solitary solace
I’ll siphon into little crystal vials
—maybe someone else can use it
A solitary solace
spun from ribbons of light
maybe someone else can use it—
when the children ask, I say I’d be a healer
Spun from ribbons of light,
stories, my life’s blood
—when the children ask, I say I’d be a healer
When I grow up, I’ll write the book
Fran—so much here to love— those little crystal vials, the solitary solace. I think you healed me just a little with this quiet, soothing poem…
Fran, the pantoum form was calling you for a reason today – this repetitive form feels like the cycling of stories, the chemistry of experiences and what is taken away, what is remembered in crystallized memories in those vials preserved for the future generations to look back on – – as YOU do with your own grandparents so frequently – – that your future generations will read in the stories and use it someday for comfort, for belonging, like this warm blanket that covers my shoulders this morning in the accidentally-too-airconditioned-living room chair. There is an intentionality felt so strongly here to leave the lasting legacy like a time capsule, where granddaughters, their children, and their children can return to it again and again, knowing how life was back in 2023, with their Franna as the great healer of hearts and minds. I see you spinning stories – planning bird baths and butterfly havens with two smiling little girls.
Fran, for some reason… your intuition led you exactly as it should have. The pantoum is perfection for your poem today. The lines land so beautifully, especially in those last two stanzas. I want to frame:
There’s something about healing and books and spinning ribbons of light sitting next to stories, my life’s blood that is magical and eternal and delves oh so deep.
Thank you for your lovely words, Fran. I’m glad I decided to host some days.
Your poem is absolutely beautiful. The sound is amazing with all those s words <3 As others have said, the pangolin repetition works wonderfully and I love the repetition of the first and third lines at the end the most
“stories, my life’s blood..
When I grow up, I’ll write the book”
I want to read that book, just like I want to keep reading this poem over and over!
Beautifully crafted and full of such striking images, crystal vials, ribbons of light. You should write the book!
Love this, Fran! I can see the crystal vials. You are definitely a healer
Fran,
Total love! I want to copy/paste/highlight the whole darn thing! I think there’s something hiding in me that needed this today. I want to cry every time I read:
I long for healing in our world. Thank you for offering something that feels like hope and love for all. And yes, write the book too!
♥️
I love this prompt! I got up late today and because it’s summer I’m going to spend some quality time in my journal having way too much time with this prompt. Thank you so much for the fun this week.
Angie, the places my deepest desires went today…..thank you for making me think about what I’d want to be if I could be anything. I wish I could say I would be as giving and fair and good as you, but the truth is that I would be utterly selfish, I think, in a world of dream jobs – like Joe Walsh sings about living in hotels and tearing out walls with a Maserati that does 185 and accountants to pay for it all…even if just for one day, I’d be a secret critic with a badge that gets me places.
Secret Badge
when I grow up
I want to be a
traveling food critic
a descriptive writer
of all things edible….
….(or not)…..
all expenses paid
to go out into the world
and live it up
like a spy on a secret mission
with an official foodie badge
that I keep covered
until the end of the meal….
….(or forever)……
unless I want immediate
preferential seating
or my glass runs dry
or I get bad service
then I whip it out
like some veiled threat
of a viral review
that might shut the place down
….(or something)……
oh and a hotel critic too
I want to be one
who jumps on beds
to test the comfort
rolls around in the sheets
and fills the bathtub to overflowing
with expensive bubble bath
with little flecks of real gold dust
and eats all the snacks
that cost twelve dollars each
for free
in those presidential suites
with corner windows
on the top floor
one who shows my badge
at checkout
and I want an airplane badge, too
so I can cut the line at security
and go in my own private room
where the rest of everyone
all tired-legged and eyeing my
complimentary
plate of sugared grapes and chocolates
whispers
who is she??
but I play it cool
never revealing my name
like no one can know
who I am
a secret traveling critic
as I take my seat in first class
throw my feet up on the
plush footrest
whip out my review computer
and write away
into the clouds
….(or just dream about it all)….
then go home to the country
and press wildflowers
and read poetry
and bask in full-face dog kisses
with whole-body tail wags
because I’m back where I belong
…..(without a badge)…….
Kim, I am going to love all the imagined things people want to be, could be. This is an awesome start!! Yea, I’d definitely love to be someone like Anthony Bourdain, mmm! And this made me LOL
“then I whip it out
like some veiled threat
of a viral review”
i love the imagining of living a fancy, uppity, privileged, powerful life but ending with where you belong, your real life! Lovely.
Those parenthetical sidenotes are the best! I love the secrecy and the badge and the fun ideas and the very real desire to do all of it. That desire to do great things without the responsibility of being known–sign me up! What a fun read this morning.
Kim, the thing is, I can see you being every one of these things, successfully, simultaneously, and to the hilt! I’ve wondered (maybe secretly coveted) a travel-writer job like Rick Steves’… or to be a researcher with Audubon or the Cornell Lab (an excuse to devote myself wholly to birds, lol). You’ve written such a fun and vibrant poem, full of vivid images and playful language – I adore “write away into the clouds” and of course the homecoming and belonging at the end. I love it all! It’s pure, zestful, carpe-diem Kim.
Kim— I just want your magic badge! Your fantasies are all so delicious, and the parenthetics (is that a word?) add that dose of reality every time. Great start to my morning. Now I’m going to kiss my dog…
Kim, these secret badge wishes sound so enticing and desirable and wishful. Until we end with you (I want to land with you), exactly where you (we) belong. This is like utter perfect day perfection. I imagine the wildflower fields you gather immersed with poetry and can see /feel the dog kisses and body wiggles. Delightful, as are you!
Kim,
Ill take the life you describe in the last stanza over the celebrity one in the others. I love food experiences, but I don’t worry about eating at Michelin-starred restaurants, although I am goi g to find Ken a good fish and chips pub in London. And I’ve never flown business or first class. Comfort+ is the best I can afford and not always. I’ve never been in a swanky airport lounge. I prefer boutique hotels to five-star ones most of the time because I’m a simple hillbilly. As long as the bed is comfortable and free of bed bugs, I’m happy. I’ll take the simple life over the glam any day as long as I have dogs and cats next to me. I know that’s the life you choose, too. 🤗
Kim,
I love how it all start with the badge, and all the dreamy opportunities that come with that, and then the closure is about belonging, sans badge. I like how it is sort of frenetic with opportunity, and then comes home to roost in the last stanza, alighting on your current existence.