Today’s inspiration comes from Glenda Funk. Glenda is an NBCT with an MA in English literature. She taught English and speech 38 years and worked as an adjunct instructor for Idaho State University and the College of Southern Idaho before retiring in August 2019. As part of the NEA Better Lesson Master Teacher Project, Glenda developed a full-year curriculum for teaching seniors, which is free on the Better Lesson website. Glenda blogs at https://evolvingenglishteacher.blogspot.com/?m=1
Inspiration
Etheree Taylor Armstong, an Arkansas poet, created a simple poetic form called appropriately Etheree. An etheree consists of ten lines with each line’s syllabication increasing by one. Line 1 begins with one syllable, line two has two syllables, line three has three syllables, etc. Proceed this way until you have composed a poem with ten lines.
Etheree poems are wonderful time savers for those with busy schedules. I spent approximately five minutes composing mine. This poem also offers a fun way to support counting in the lower grades and an invitation for older students to explore social justice issues, etc.
Process
- one syllable
- two syllables
- three syllables
- four syllables
- five syllables
- six syllables
- seven syllables
- eight syllables
- nine syllables
- ten syllables
Glenda’s Poem
“Social Distancing”
Home
Inside
Find refuge
Flatten the curve
Safe spaces to hide
A good book by my side
Connecting with friends online
Alone together we reside
Stories we share reach beyond this space
One human race, bound together, embraced.
In a moment of uncertainty, I like the discipline and orderliness of form. The Etheree allows me to take a light approach or explore my own thought progressions in this time of growing uncertainty, and because this is a simple form, I see possibilities for online sharing of etherees among students and teachers, perhaps via Flip Grid or even by having students create etheree memes they can post online or tweet.
Write
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Mindful
You
You’re here
In your house
Inside four walls
Next to a window
Outside it is raining
But inside you’re safe and warm
The roof overhead protects you
So you don’t have to weather the storm
Be mindful of those who aren’t so lucky.
Happy Hour
Talk
And laugh
With old friends
A drink and jokes
Virtual happy hour
Five women who need to
Connect with one another
To make social isolation
At least a bit more bearable and
Less depressing… that is what friends are for
Fifth
Students
Distance learning?
Are you learning?
Have technology?
Momma’s cell or daddy’s?
What is going on at home?
Who is there encouraging you?
Is there quiet and a place to write?
Will you be ready for middle school soon?
home
our space
multitudes
necessities and
opportunities
creative explosions
engage in escapism
change is the shadow on the wall
constant arriving, bright horizons
children, hands, entire universe
Music.
Stay sane.
Listen close.
Forget the sting.
Forget the worry.
Understand the lyrics.
Fully comprehend the notes.
Put your headphones on one last time.
All we have these days and that’s okay.
But don’t forget to sing inside your heart.
Music is SO important especially, now. “Stay sane” is hopefully what music can help all of us do right now. I enjoyed your poem and hope you are well.
I wanted to try a poem in my two languages. I think it could be a good mentor text for my heritage Spanish students.
Melancolía / Jen Lopez
Words
Strange sounds
In two tongues
Melancholy
Sounds melancholy
But melancolía
Is a songbird’s melody
Pero aún así estoy
Suspirando, llorando, so blue
Unable to chase this feeling away
Jen,
This is a wonderful idea! I love the code switching and the way your poem teaches the two words so similar yet very different in meaning. Bravo!
—Glenda
This is grief, too
by Jen Lopez
Tears
My boy
Past bedtime
Sobbing in bed
Can I have a hug?
Reality sinks in
No school means no time with friends
Three weeks in, many more to go
I tell him: it’s normal to feel sad
I tell him: today I’ve felt so sad, too.
Jen,
This is heartbreaking. I’m sure there are many tears she’d on pillows these days as children suffer alone w/out friends. They all need a mother’s love wrapped around them as you have cocooned you’re son. I feel the aching you both experience. Your poem is powerful. Thank you.
—Glenda
Miracle
by Tanya Flowers-Gillett 4/32020
Covid
Uncle
To Inflict
Hospitalized
for short period
We all got so fearful
We had to pray to our God
We fought fearlessly in the Spirit
God sees all our unmovable faith
Miracle – our beloved Uncle G!
Tanya,
I’m so glad your uncle recovered from COVID-19. Many don’t realize how heinous this virus is. I hope you’ll share your poem w/ your uncle as I’m sure it will wrap him in your love.
—Glenda
Glenda, Two weeks ago I moved my parents out of their care center and into the lower level of my home to provide both social distancing and stimulation (which had been curtailed at their care center due to Covid-19). This afternoon I printed off your prompt and shared it with my mom, hoping she might find it do-able. (No luck so far.) When I read your poem aloud to my parents, we shared appreciation of your words and your message. I just want you to know your poem uplifted the three of us. Thank you.
Allison,
Thank you for sharing this story. It means much to me. It isn’t always easy to find or see ways we can make a positive impact these days when we’re shut into our homes. I’m trying to find at least one way each day to serve someone outside our four walls, so knowing your mom was lifted up by my poem lifts me up, too. Blessing to you and your family. XO
—Glenda
Allison — I’m sending vibes of strength and love… you have done such a good thing to bring your folks close. Not an easy thing, but I am moved once again by you. Love, Susie
Walk
Away
It is I
Contradicting
You do you not know
That the World will never
ever be the same again
Welcome to our new normal
Make peace with your maker today or
Punish yourself by regretting later
Wow. I feel the power of this. I love the bold admonishing tone.
Melissa,
This gives me chills and shivers. My fear is “the World will never ever be the same again.” And for that I carry a heavy weight as part of a privileged generation who is experiencing this moment knowing I do not have the burdens of adjusting younger individuals have. Peace to you.
—Glenda
Your poem resonates to that place that aches deep within. That place of truth, where we, as a global community, are connected in knowing that the world is changed. Thank you for your words.
Home with the Boys
Tired.
Of course
Don’t you know?
It’s a given.
Kept inside for weeks
Tiny hands, growing minds
Searching for something to do
“Mama, can we go to the zoo?”
Not even after naptime today
But we can cuddle close until it’s safe.
This touched my mother-heart. TIRED. (My very worst mothering happened when I was tired and my children were NOT.) So many poems tonight anchor in this strangest of times. I hope you will write all month. I’m betting your 30-day collection of poems will mean a lot to you some day.
Ashley,
My mama heart hurts for the little boys “searching for something to do.” I feel the love you have for these little ones as you “cuddle close.” The dialogue tugs at my heartstrings. Thank you.
—Glenda
“Simple”
joy
Happy
Enjoy Life
Candy and treats
Friends and family
Simple things mean the most
Home-cooked meals and family time
Loving the time with friends outdoors
These few simple things I love the most
I challenge you to find simple things too
Kole, tonight after I wrote my poem, I wrote a blog post about what matters and what doesn’t matter. I basically what you’ve said here! Can we all be uplifted by this “enforced” time to simplify, slow down, and wipe some of the frazzle out of our lives? Thank you for reminding me to “find simple things.”
Kole,
While so much about this moment in time makes me mournful, I’m thankful I live in a place where life is almost always a bit slower and simpler than in many others. Years ago a student wrote an essay about family dinner time, and it made such an impression on me that I prioritized having dinner as a family w/ my children. It’s dinner time together, being outdoors, savoring the simple things that sustain me now. Thank you for honoring these things in your poem.
—Glenda
I loved writing this tonight! The form is so inviting in its simplicity. I chose to write about a delightful conversation I had with my son Max and his wife Andrea last night. THANK YOU, Glenda!
John
Proctor
said “Because
it is my name.
Because I cannot
have another in my
life.” So Max and Andrea
pinch each name for freshness, hear
each name’s pitch, weighing its timbre.
Serious business, naming baby
Who will not have another in his life.
Oh, I love this! And you know I love John Proctor. I love how your poem, structured around something as arbitrary as syllables, can yield something so powerful and universal.
You are an amazing responder (teacher). Thank you.
Allison,
I love this poem. Proctor’s proclamation “Because it is my name. Because I cannot have another in my life” is one of my favorite lines in literature. I often find contemporary relevance in this passage. Love the image of “punch each name for freshness.” I remember trying my boys’ names on for size, turning them inside out. This poem should go in the little one’s baby book. It’s a lovely story. Thank you.
—Glenda
Oh, thank you, Glenda!, for your kind words. You have given us wonderful prompts.
Allison – this hits such a tender chord. The simplicity of sound in a name… that really matters. Love that. The gift of a name is incredible to me… years ago when the state of MO required that you take your spouse’s name, (you had to pay $500 to go to court to claim your own given name — which I eventually did) — and it hurt me to set aside a gift my parents gave me. Now, it still feels powerful to own my name, a gift no one can ever take away again. It matters. I’m so glad you wrote this! Love, Susie
Walmart
“You
will have
to enter
on the other
side.” Pointing to the
right. The man explodes.
“Screw you” he spits at me. “It
is city-mandated” I am not
your door-mat, I mean to say, I am
essential, critical, at-risk worker.
Abigail,
God help me but my first impulse is to kick that man in his microscopic family jewels. People are unfreakingbelievable. Grrrrrr. Retail workers need hazmat suits given the rabid dog behavior of some men.
In terms of the poem. I love the dialogue, both spoken and internal. Stellar poem. Perfect tone. Now I need a glass of wine to decompress because I’m having a fit of righteous indignation. I’m reading your poem to my husband and guarantee he’ll respond w/ the F-bomb. Stay safe, my friend, and thank you for sharing this story. It’s a perfect distillation of the new world order.
—Glenda
Abigail and Glenda — Oh man, I am in DITTO mode with your response, Glenda. I can feel my BP rising as I type this. Abigail… I LOVED THIS POEM… it hit home as I’ve heard another story almost identical to it from a friend here who had some man do almost the same kind of “spit” in your face behavior. OMG! It makes me insane. I’m telling you, the men who have emerged from under rocks in the last few weeks are astounding in their hubris and irresponsible, rotten disregard for the well-being of others. Sadly, it often boils down into utter ignorance…the stupidity of throwing science out the window in favor of “MAN (less) hood” … grrrrr!
Stay safe — and may sanity win over cretins like the guy at War-Mart.
Cyber hugs, Susie
The voice in this piece — both the speaker’s and the man’s — come through so palpably. They way you italicized the internal is a powerful shift, both on the page and in concept. The phrases are literally leaning (italicized). We should be leaning on one another, but the speaker (maybe you, but I don’t want to assume) is left to lean into herself when she’s already leaning to help those in need — she’s essential, but alone. This one hit hard for me. Thank you for sharing this.
Wow. I feel such a crazy mix of anger and fear as I read this. And then my heart breaks for our precious “essential, critical, at-risk workers.” I love how your poem made me experience thoughts and feelings I would have otherwise missed today. Wow (again) and thank you.
Abigail,
I really enjoyed reading this poem. I think that you have a powerful writing voice which really comes out in the syllable poem. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this, and it really brought a tear to my eye.
Shelter-In-Place
Home
Inside
Staying safe
Sanity wanes
Online learning links
Zoom video meetings
Writing to help clear my mind
Stretching myself with poetry
Uncertain of what will come of it
Hoping others will shelter-in-place too
Donnetta,
I share the “sanity wanes” feeling this evening. I’m a bit stir crazy right now even though I did get outside today. I, too, write “to clear my mind.” Right now about the only thing I can read is poetry. I’m hoping to get over the hump next week. I think we’re all feeling “uncertain.” Thank you for putting that feeling into the world.
—Glenda
“Stretching myself with poetry” spoke to me–it says so much. I feel like it’s easy to forget that exercising our brain is particularly important now while we are all hopefully practicing “shelter-in-place.” I feel like you described my life in this poem, and I bet others feel that way, too. I love how relatable it is!
I
Go out.
A mask and
Plastic gloves on.
Grocery shopping.
Careful to stay six feet
Away from others while I
Decide what I want to purchase.
Once home, I have to carefully wipe
Each package before I put it away.
Zacarias, the simplicity of your words somehow conveys the importance of the situation. Your understatement says so much to me. You’ve almost normalized your action, which is so sad but true.
Zacarias,
The objective, reportorial tone is perfect to convey the subjective ideas inherent in the methodical task of shopping. It reminds me of John Hersey’s “Hiroshima.” Only once home do we get a break in the order you place on shopping w/ the word “carefully.” This is a brilliant poem. Thank you.
—Glenda
I am almost without words to say in response to your Etheree. It is very well written, and makes me want to cry. I try to hold on to the notion that something good will come from all of this. Continue to stay safe.
What strikes me most about your poem is the absence of both emotion and closure. It’s all so matter-of-fact, which I think captures so much about these days in which we’re living. Your poem reminds me that some days are brimming with emotion while others are focused on motion. There’s so much emotion underneath the actions in your poem (don the mask and gloves, buy the groceries, keep distance, wipe them down) that only those experiencing this will understand. Put this one in the time capsule! Thank you for sharing!
Zacarias — You’ve laid out the exact images of all of us right now. Very effective. Susie
Learning to Breathe
Breathe
just breathe
in this space
growing between
spaces of silence
connections squandered
reborn in the restfulness
cherish moments of family
frantic lives no longer remember
how to live still, how to breath in this world
Tamara/David,
This is such a calming poem. I like the way it replicates deep breathing as it progresses. Namaste.
—Glenda
Tamara and David — My favorite lines… “frantic lives no longer remember/how to live still, how to breathe…” Aaah, too true. The whole notion of breathing in a conscious way… aah, that is so… so calming, healing. Especially in a viral world where we risk losing our breath….you remind us to be in those breathing moments. Thanks, Susie
Tamara and David, I like how you push us to look at the positive, even though it may be difficult. Also, I’m curious how you approached writing your poem together. ?
Lol! Actually, I accidentally must have hit autofill which has both my husband and I on it. This poem was just me. My hubby and are practising social distancing! Just kiddin.
Thank you for the peace and calm I feel when I read this poem. I love the line “reborn in restfulness”. It almost feels like we are being given a chance to learn to be different, to be reborn to be for what the future holds for us. Great Etheree!
Like others, I also love these lines: “frantic lives no longer remember / how to live still.” That juxtaposition is so true. I hope, if nothing else, we learn to divorce ourselves from our love affair with “busy” — that we carry some of this quiet stillness with us — when this all passes. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words and perspective.
I Needed Your Cello Today
Yo
Yo-Yo
Yo-yo Ma,
I hear yo’ strings,
mending messages
aloft in warm breezes,
invisible healing sound
in waves across the blighted land;
yo’ ma would be proud, as would my own,
to hear you lift each note, sublime in hope.
by Susie Morice©
Only you, Susie, only you! How you think of such unique and creative ways to express yourself in poetry is beyond my understanding. I love Yo-Yo Ma! This play on yo’ is perfect!! My mom was a cellist in school. I wish she had appreciated music as an adult because she would’ve loved Yo-Yo Ma.
Pure beauty…invisible healing sound in waves across the blighted land.
L O V E! It’s fun and true and a fun tribute.
“invisible healing sound” ahhhhhh
I love the hopeful tone of this poem. Music really does bring peace in troubled and uncertain times such as these.
Susie,
Such a clever, playful opening followed by a celebration of the healing power of music. Reminds me of “Bel Canto.” Thank you.
—Glenda
Love the play on words and the sentiment…
Susie, you always have such surprises up your sleeve, and I enjoy watching for what you write. Those first three lines are grabbing, and then to move from modern twists to aloft….blighted….sublime. The word worlds converge and explode beautifully!
? drop! Do words just bounce around in your brain all day?
Mo – You are so fun… you made me laugh out loud. Thanks! Susie
Tree
Maple
Whirlybirds
Spin in the air–
Home to the squirrel
And the woodpeckers too.
Forty-two years of seasons
My acer saccharinum yields
to wind and weather–snow, rain, and sun–
Changing, I gaze out the window and dream.
Marilyn — This is very soothing… I love the maple whirlybirds….the motion is lovely. The “gaze” brings an ease. Calming. Thank you, Susie
Marilyn,
I have a vision of hummingbirds among trees and the critters who populate the forest. Have you read “The Hidden Life of Trees”? Thank you.
—Glenda
Yes! It was intriguing. Now I love trees even more than before.
Your poem makes me want to go out and enjoy nature. Even with such few words, you have painted a beautiful picture. This poem is calming and relaxing. I really needed this right now, thank you!
I really loved the strong images of nature, especially the large maple trees. The paint a very clear picture in my head. It made me so very ready to trek the mountains with my hammock!
We are alone together, and that is comforting. I looked to my arm for inspiration.
Beads.
Amber
broken string
of golden orbs
from her jewelry box.
What did they mean to her?
Embracing my writing arm,
refashioned into a bracelet.
Lasting heirloom from my godmother
sending sparkles of creativity.
What a beautiful image…including the question of what the beads meant to your godmother. “sending sparkles of creativity” is a great last line.
Love the imagery of this poem and the fact that this heirloom is your muse.
Hi Margaret,
Embracing my writing arm…
and
sending sparkles of creativity…
Lovely images for me to behold. I also love how the broken string didn’t break the value of the gift from your godmother. Beautiful.
Margaret,
I’d love to see a picture of that bracelet. I sure understand the rhetorical value of a piece of jewelry. This is a lovely tribute and way to keep your loved one close. In a sense your poem replicates the wrapping of the bracelet around your arm. Thank you.
—Glenda
I really like how this poem moves through space – I saw the beads, then where it was kept, then on the writer’s wrist – I really liked how it moved through space and time while telling a poignant story.
Beautiful. I imagined her gently touching your arm as she sat next to you when I read the line “embracing my writing arm” (I could see her hand resting on yours). I’m sure you have memories of times spent together. I truly enjoyed reading this Etheree.
Cleansing Rains
storm
scenting
atmosphere
around my heart
leading to rapture
from tumultuous clouds
serene empowering thoughts
after storm departs your spirit
cleanliness through purity invades ~
supreme redemption follows cleansing rains
Joanne,
The Etheree sure works well to reinforce a coming storm and the way it cleanses the earth. I love the subtext here that offers another layer to your poem through religious references. Thank you.
—Glenda
Joanne,
I loved the feeling that this poem gave me. The storm when I first read this poem was talking about an actual thunderstorm, but when I re-read it I felt as though it was a metaphorical storm. Really great.
Sons,
will you
please read or
go outside or
clean your gross bathroom?
Learn to play this guitar
or build a snug basement fort.
Start some seeds for our garden
or get out the old Legos and Nerf guns.
Just please stop staring at screens all day long!
I worry that many of my students are spending too much time on screens. Such a hard thing for parents. I love your list of alternatives.
Sob
Sob Sob
Sob Sob Sob
well, you get it…I have to force my two outside!
Yes, this speaks to me! Wish I could get my 12 year old daughter outside too!
Kimberly,
The pleading tone, almost a mama wail, permeates you’re poem. As a mom of boys who exhausted me in trying to coral them, I feel you. We give them so many options, right. Love this. Thank you.
—Glenda
Kimberly,
I too often fear that technology is taking over the lives of youth. It’s a scary image because no one seems interested in learning anymore. I hope this changes.
This is wonderful. I think we had more imagination because we didn’t have screens to absorb our thoughts…
This must be how most parents feel right now! I love the progression from mild exasperation to the image of the kids in front of screens. The power may go out soon…at our house only.
Then
We walked
Finally
Back to real life
Weeks told in headlines:
“People Free To Do Things”
“Life To Be White Noise Again”
Papers sell like hotcakes today
But I notice eyes searching the sky
Waiting for metaphorical asteroids
I love the idea of life as white noise. So much we took for granted as white noise that we all miss so desperately now. Thanks for sharing!
Alex, your poem hit me hard. I’ll be so excited for the day we are free to do things, but I know I’ll also be scanning for those metaphorical asteroids. Will we be truly safe to go out again? Is something else looming on the horizon? Your poem captures so many emotions in such a small space. Thank you for sharing.
I wonder what we will do when life is back to normal? Fill the time up again or wonder if another wave will crash into us. Love metaphorical asteroids.
Alex — Yes! After all this, I know my own “eyes [will be] searching the sky….[for those] asteroids! Well done! Susie
Woah. I’ve read this over at least 10 times, and I’m in awe. I’m excited for this moment. But you’re right – we’ll all be a little changed, never quite the same. Thank you 🙂
Alex,
I’m rooting for the prophesy in your poem. Love the inclusion of headlines, yet in the past few years I’ve learned one thing: It can get worse. *sigh* Thank you.
—Glenda
Alex, your poem really hit me in the heart today. It’s been a long two weeks, and it’s going to be another long few weeks ahead. It’s so easy to forget that we will be better soon. Thank you for sharing!
Sleep
Fearful
Nightmares again
It’s paralysis
I can’t seem to move
My voice is also silent
I just can’t wake myself up
I’m trapped inside my own prison
It’s dark, eerie, and there’s no light
I have been here forever, no leaving.
Agreed, Naydeen. It feels like forever…
Naydeen,
This is powerful. “Paralysis, nightmares, trapped, prison” are gut punch words, but what I like most is the image of blindness w/out use of the word. That’s eerie. Thank you.
—Glenda
Naydeen,
This is exactly how sleep paralysis feels. So frightening and I think that you definitely captured that in this poem. I love the words “I have been here forever, no leaving” because it feels like it is neverending.
One
Leg, two
Legs, three legs,
Four, black eyes, gray
Snout, true omnivore,
Doesn’t bark, only licks,
Not a pure breed but a mix.
Nestles snuggly in her big bed;
On the couch by me, I stroke her head.
A truer friend is hard to find, so kind.
Katrina,
Welcome to #verselove! Oh, just love the imagery of “nestles snuggly”! How wonderful to have this comfort.
Peace,
Sarah
Thank you. I agree. In a time of “hunkering down,” “nestling snugly” sounds nice.
Katrina,
I love the way you worked rhymes into your poem! I have a few “true friends” keeping me company right now, and we are so lucky to have them.
Yes, imagine this time without the comfort of our furry friends.
I am joined by my dog and cat on the sofa. Such a great poem about the comfort of pets.
Me too. My boys asked if I read the poem to our dog.
Katrina,
The Etheree is perfect for this playful, child-like poem celebrating our furry friends. I can see it on the page of a picture book next to your fur baby. I love the rhythm here, too. Thank you.
—Glenda
Thank you. I was hitting on all cylinders until I got to the last line. I struggled with it.
This is such a fun poem to read! Very Dr. Suess esque. I have also been taking in all the extra time with my furry child, and find your poem to be very relatable.
GOD Is
By Donna Russ 4/3/2020
GOD
GOD is
GOD is Real
GOD is Faithful
GOD is my Refuge
GOD is my Salvation
GOD is my Deliverer
GOD is the WAY, the Truth, the Life
GOD is the Lawgiver for true life
GOD, Yahweh, Almighty, The Great I Am
Thank you for being with #verselove, Donna! Your use of capitalization creates this powerful symmetry, and words to actually center (even thought it is left justified) the text as the white space of the other words slides into an angle leading to the last word “Am.” Moving literally and figuratively.
Peace,
Sarah
Thanks, Sarah, I was a bit timid about posting, but, you can’t grow without stepping out on faith.
Donna
Thanks for sharing, Donna. So often it takes tough times for us to reconsider our faith.. Thanks for sharing yours.
Yes, Anna, it does. I used this topic because I am rooted in it. You are a part of my spiritual journey. Thanks ?
Donna,
The word “Yahweh” adds depth to your poem. I remember in the early 1980s Amy Grant has a song featuring this word for God. I haven’t thought about that in years. Thank you.
—Glenda
Glenda, I have been studying Hebrew and Yahweh is what I learned they call Jehovah, GOD, LORD. It makes reading the One Testament new and enlightening. Shalom (peace)
Musabi Etheree
By Shaun Ingalls
Spam.
Processed.
Soak it well.
Soy and fish sauce.
Fry it golden brown.
Stacked on sticky white rice.
Wrapped and rolled in nori sheets.
Slice it up – round, bite-sized nuggets
Pick one up with your chopsticks…then drop.
That’s when I decided to use a fork.
I was reading this as a fascinating recipe—and then the last two lines, I laughed out loud. Perfect!!
You made me laugh in this most difficult of times. Thanks! You description of Spam is right on, and to conclude that a fork is preferable to chopsticks-well, been there and done that!
You do poetic justice to the delicacy that Spam is.
Shaun,
First, I love the avatar and would like one myself.
The first word brought me right into my childhood. We would receive bags of groceries from our church pantry, and Spam was a staple. We did not fry it but spread it on white bread. Love the care and celebration in this ode to the preparation!
Peace,
Sarah
I loved your description of spam. It takes me back to my childhood of always eating spam. I also loved how you described how you ate it.
Shaun,
LOL! That ending is too much fun. Your poem is playful and almost makes Spam sound edible. I did buy a can of it a couple weeks ago and will open in case of emergency. Thanks for the humor.
—Glenda
home
refuge
have to stay
but want to too
stuck in quarantine
but relishing in time
time we never seem to take
playing games, working puzzles, fun
that we never created before
why did it have to take a pandemic?
Susan, is this a rhetorical question?
why did it have to take a pandemic?
Yes, I’m asking one myself. We’re learning that until we have to, we often don’t do what we know we should. Like, playing games, working puzzles and just having fun together. Love it!
Oh, Susan,
The question in the last line reveals what may be a gift of this pandemic to those who have a safe place to be and family with whom to share it. Love this image of “working puzzles” and the reminder to take this time as refuge. Wise, wise, Susan.
Peace,
Sarah
Thanks for putting a positive spin on what’s going on! I’ve noticed myself contacting friends I hadn’t seen in a long time, having virtual happy hours, feeling more connected to people I used to see every day…what a great last line!
Isn’t this the truth? My boys settled a score over a cribbage game today….and they are going to shave Dad’s head in lieu of haircut. It’s weird to treasure these moments in the midst of the emergency and death.
Susan,
This is a lovely celebration of home and all it offers in terms of being together. Even before the quarantine I’d become a homebody, but I want to make that decision, not have a virus force me to make it. Maybe after the pandemic people will want to stay home more. Thank you.
—Glenda
smile
just smile
for seconds
it brings relief
a joyful presence
in a time of despair
contentment. rejoice.. praise. smile
a better day is coming, smile
the anxiety will subside, smile
better days are ahead, friend. please, just smile
Jordy,
Oh, the repetition of smile is a much needed punctuation mark at the end of these lines…love the line, “anxiety will subside.” And, thank you for your plea with “please” as a gentle nudge.
Peace,
Sarah
I enjoyed how you, simply, broke down whole sentences to make the correct form while continuing the flow of your thoughts. I wish I had thought of that. It makes sense. And your words are an inspiration. I am smiling! : -)
Jordy, these lines spoke to me, saying that smiling benefits the giver and the recipient. Thanks for sharing.
in a time of despair
contentment. rejoice.. praise. smile
Jordy,
I look for ways and reasons to smile every day. Reading The Borowitz Report and The Onion help! We actually have a city ordinance in Pocatello requiring people to smile while in public. I’m not kidding. Thank you.
—Glenda
What? How?
Home
Homework
Homework now!
Homework. How, Mom?
Homework, you know Bob.
Homework? I don’t know how!
Homework, you do know what, right?
Homework, I don’t know what or how.
Homework, get to it now, Bob, or else!
Homework? I don’t know what or why I must!
Homework! Pick up that rag and wipe up that dust!
Anna, this is brilliant! Using the same word repeatedly, conversation – style, is so effective here for these imperatives and interrogatives. How many times, I wonder, has this conversation happened in kitchens and dens across America today? We can surely relate to our students and our own kids who claim they don’t know what or how to do their homework.
The twist at the end is delightful.
Shades of reflection on days gone by I feel in this selection. I can see this scenario playing out in every home with school age kids, especially, now. I loved how you tied each line with the same word, but with different connotations. I used the same methodology in my offering of the day.
This is a lovely poem. I love the repetition of “Homework” and the final two line rhyme.
Love the repetition and that surprise ending! Fun!
love it! And, so would my students. Can I share with them?
Absolutely, Linda. I’m honored. This group is affirming and fun!
Anna,
I suspect parents are hearing these grumbling often both in terms of schoolwork and work we must do around our homes. The repetition reinforces the voices pleading for homework to get done. Thank you.
—Glenda
un-stuck
Stuck.
In spaces.
In today.
In syllables.
Keep doing the same
yet expecting difference
You choose your trajectory
You choose your direction and path
You choose to be static or mobile
Detach, break the bonds, don’t adhere to the rules.
Haha! 11 at the end! That was a subtle and clever way to convey your message!
Laura,
Powerful use of anaphora as you repeat “you choose” three times moving into the last line “Detach” and advice to break and not to adhere. This contrast so powerfully with the first word, “Stuck.” Wow.
Sarah
Laura,
I love thinking about literally being “stuck…in syllables.” Is this an inability to find words? An abundance of words? I way of saying “I don’t like this form?” I’m pondering this line. I’m also thinking about those who reject rules and what I think about that in terms of the social contract. Thank you.
—Glenda
Spring Invitation
Rain
Freezes
On petals
Newly blooming
Reminding us that
Even nature can freeze
As we do, holed up inside
Tomorrow the sun will rise high
Bright and warm; ice returns to water
It is an invitation: Pause. Then grow.
Looking out at gray, your poem gave me hope. Thank you.
Haley,
Love the line “newly blooming” and how you move us toward the shift in ways of being — ice returns to water. Indeed, this is an invitation to reimagine our form.
Wow,
Sarah
The promise of rebirth is why I love Spring so much. Your poem reminded me of just that. Thanks for sharing!
Haley,
The parallel between nature w/ its freezing rain and humans feeling cold, both physical and emotional, is a lovely move in the poem. I have an image of ice as stasis and water as movement in “ice returns to water.” We humans need moments of dormancy too before growth. Lots of depth here. Love it. Thank you.
—Glenda
PAUSE! I found your word! This is such a lovely poem. You made me think about this (absurd! uncalled for!) freezing day in a kinder way. I am SO happy to read your voice here. xo
Haley, the opening lines of your poem flow perfectly with this format. Having spent many years in the Midwest, it brought a forgotten picture right into my head. Then to turn that image into hope for the future–an invitation in our frozen-ness to pause and grow–is absolutely beautiful. Thank you for this lovely reminder today.
Thank you, Glenda, for the Etheree poem prompt and for sharing your “Social Distancing” poem with us. I have always had fun with form poems, playing with the rules for syllables/rhymes/repetition. I think the constraints of the form create a challenge that sparks my creativity.
I took inspiration from another poem that I read this morning: “Good Morning” by Elena Milkhalkova. She writes:
“during difficult times, you move forward in small steps. / do what you have to do, but little by little…. you won’t notice, but your steps will grow bigger and bigger. / and time will come when you can think about the future without crying. ”
step
forward
wash dishes
water basil
chop vegetables
feed the sourdough starter
organize tupperware lids
unfurl the yoga mat, breathe deep
sanitize knobs, light switches, remotes
kiss spouse, call mom, text brothers, step forward
I love how you capture the little things that we can control in this time. Each detail created a visual for me.I can relate to the organizing tupperware! My kitchen was in need of a thorough clean out, which gratefully, I had the time to do.
Betsy, this poem (and the inspirational passage that you quoted) are the balm that I needed today. Such small, simple steps that you name, each soft in its own way. The last line, with its focus on connecting with others, is the gift that awaits after you treasure small ‘doings’ along the way. Lovely.
You strike a chord here. Thank you for reminding us there is poetry in the mundane.
Betsy,
I love the way the Etheree supports forward motion in your poem. Your list reminds me of tasks I need to complete, namely sanitizing knobs and switches. I actually cleaned out the oven drawer where I store class lids this evening. I keep a yoga mat upstairs and downstairs. Sometimes I need it during the afternoon pressers! Love how you perform the utilitarian tasks and then reach for human contact. Thank you.
—Glenda
Betsy,
Good morning to you! Yes, it is in taking the small steps, as you so matter-of-factly tell them, that we move forward. I love the beginning and end, reminding us that as we keep on going, we will keep stepping forward.
I agree about the use of forms in the creative process. I have so much fun waiting for the challenge and trying to fit my words into the rules. All the best to you, as you continue in the challenge.
Help!
Struggle
Therapist
Anxiety
Huge uncertainty
First time for everything
Though diary entries
Prioritizing mental health
Progressive muscle relaxation
Cognitive behavioral therapy
Emily,
This is a cerebral, technical take on the Etheree that is a perfect example of how teachers can use poetry to synthesize conceptual ideas and recognize complexity. Love seeing the diary entries nestled in there as the ideas move toward shifts in cognition!
Powerul.
Sarah
Emily,
What begins as a poem articulating pain ends on a hopeful note, the promise changes in behavior lead to healing. “Progressive muscle relaxation” reminds me of my longing for a massage. Thank you.
—Glenda
Thank you for moving “Help!” to “huge uncertainty” and then to “therapy.” You have built a lovely progression here.
Nancy,
Your poem really resonated with me because anxiety is real and we all have different experiences with it.
I liked the determination you showed to BREATHE and seize the day in spite of it.
Spring
Flowers
Blooming bright
Bring joy to me
Even in this time
Unprecedented days
Sometimes makes me feel afraid
But a new day brings hopeful light
And I see more “gifts” to enjoy
Gratitude does wonders for the soul
Opens my eyes to the beauty each day.
Christi,
Reading your poem is a gentle, light-filled reminder to give thanks, to focus on the good, for even amid all the tragedy the flowers bloom, and we can see light. Thank you.
—Glenda
Nightmares
By Stacey L. Joy
Dreams
Return
Tidal waves
Swallowing me
Whole. No lifeguards out
Swimming in slow motion
Breathe one last breath before death
Screaming, gulping, emerge, crying
I awaken to a damp pillow
Wipe wet eyes and pray, “Stop COVID19.”
I love how line 8 is composed of four 2-syllable words. It makes me read the line with a rhythmic beat and brings me deeper and deeper into the nightmare. I’ve been waking up with uncertainty due to this pandemic, so your poem really resonates with me. Thank you for sharing it!
Wow, you had me at “tidal waves swallowing me,” yet you surprised me with “‘Stop COVID19.'”
Stacey, I really enjoyed your poem! When you wrote “Tidal waves/ Swallowing me/ Whole. No lifeguards out” I resonated with those words in this time period of everything going on in our world. With those lines also, I like how you kept the pattern of each line adding a syllable but it was a continuation of a sentence/ thought.
Tidal waves swallowing me
Whole. No lifeguards
The word “whole” sitting separately from the rest of the sentence adds an additional emphasis. These does feel like something we should be waking from but are unable to. And it seems to hit in those tidal waves, one coming after the next with a bit of a we’ll be ok lull in between.
YIkes! This is scary even without the last word.
Stacey,
I’m sending you a virtual hug and a prayer for peace of mind. “Screaming, gulping, emerge crying” are words expressing collective pain. Your prayer is the world’s prayer. Thank you.
—Glenda
Tornado During Pandemic
Dead
Silence
In a tub
No phone or lights
All we have is fear
We are safe but none know
When we find calm in darkness
Lights scream to life but no service
Sirens sound as they head to wreckage
Silence leaves us craving some connection
Alysa, this line brought tears. Not be able to communicate can be more fearsome than the opposite. I can see giving this as a journal prompt, inviting students to create a “story” to show this is truth. The variations probably cannot be counted!
Silence leaves us craving some connection
Thanks so much for your kinda words! Not being able to communicate is indeed terrifying. I think it would definitely make a great journal prompt that students would have a lot of input about!
Alysa,
Tornado? Literal or figurative? If this is literal, I hope you are safe. And, even if it is figurative, I hope you are safe. “Sirens sound as they head to wreckage.” This is so haunting, and then the final line “craving some connection.” Wow, we hope the sirens find us.
Peace,
Sarah
I had actually written words from this poem while I was in a bath tub and a tornado was across the field from my apartment. I had to change some words around to make it fit the format, but writing this today was very therapeutic.
Our apartment wasn’t hit, but our town was. The tornado went straight through the center of town taking out many businesses and over half of our mall. We were lucky. There were injuries, but no one died. My husband and I didn’t have cell service or internet for 5 days which just made us realize how important those things are especially while not being able to go see people face to face.
Alysa,
I sense Tge fear you capture in the silence awaiting a tornado’s possible arrival. A tornado warning is a double whammy right now. It reminds me we are moving into tornado season. The alliteration screeches the warning in “scream, silence, sirens, sound.” Stay safe. I hope folks are spared the scorched earth tornado destruction this year. Thank you.
—Glenda
I’m you can sense the fear because it is definitely what I was feeling. I wrote these words right after a tornado went through our town and very close to my apartment. We live on the outskirts of town, and within 5 minutes of the tornado hitting heard emergency services from all over rushing to come help the survivors of the storm. There were several injuries but no deaths were reported. Surprisingly it seems like the corona virus quarantine saved a lot of lives that day because normally the businesses the tornado hit would have been packed on a Saturday night.
Empty Cabinets
Boys
Now men.
Twins plus one
(Testosterone)
Search the cabinets
And refrigerator
For one food they wish we had
Not hungry necessarily
Looking for some crunchy calories.
Distraction from present and future fears.
Angela,
You’ve taken us to your kitchen and opened the pantry and refrigerator for us to see – – probably in pursuit of (my guess) potato chips or Cheetos or anything of comfort. I can see three taller men hovering in the background as you come to the rescue – only to find what all of them were looking for. Right there. In the front. Waving and jumping up and down, wanting to be found. That’s the image I get today, and it’s got me chuckling AND not wanting to see that grocery receipt…..
Angela,
You adeptly recreated the image of my teen and her constant rooting through the kitchen in search of anything unhealthy.
Angela,
As a mom to two boys I recall those days of empty cabinets and empty calories. They devour food so fast. Wonderful alliteration in “crunchy calories” suggesting boys chomping for the food they crave to distract them from reality, perhaps while playing a video game. Thank you.
—Glenda
Angela, what a powerful way to give so much information about these days. The cabinets and refrigerator undoubtedly have food, but not that one food they wish for. “Crunchy calories” as a distraction from fears. Oh, so powerful. I’ve been eating my way through all the fresh-baked bread I keep adding to my home. Soft, warm, buttery distractions from my fears. Thank you for your words.
Soap
Weapon
Protection
It could save us
At least physically.
If twenty seconds could
Wash away the fear inside
And break down social barriers
Bringing the world back to “normalcy”
Would one squirt be enough for everyone?
“at least physically.” and “normalcy” really stood out to me. I am also wondering how our world will or will not be different if the pandemic ends. Will healthcare change? Will people have more empathy? Will we still wave to our neighbors we see walking down the street? Will teachers really be more appreciated now that all these families are learning what it takes to “homeschool”?
I, especially, enjoyed how you emphasized that something as mundane as soap can be a weapon. With all the nuclear weapons we have worldwide, it’s funny (in a scary way) that all it took was a little microscopic organism to bring the world to it’s knees; and something we use everyday is the weapon of choice!
Rachel,
“ If twenty seconds could
Wash away the fear inside”
really speaks to me. I wish we could wash away fear and everything that keeps us apart. Powerful poem. Thank you.
—Glenda
On Surviving an Anxiety Attack
By Nancy White
Oh!
I’m here
All alone
And it’s OK
I am still breathing
Ready to move forward
I will not let this stop me
I will breathe, breathe, and BREATHE again
Each day, each hour, each minute a gift
I choose to remain calm and seize the day
Right there with you! Breathing alongside you. Thank you for sharing an experience many are feeling. We will be ok. That’s important to remember. Sending you hugs!
I think the etheree form is perfect for your message in this poem! As you describe catching your breath, calming down, slowing down – the lines get longer. Like you’re able to think more clearly and express more in each breath. Beautiful!
Nancy, your closing line! We have a choice in how we respond to circumstances over which we have no control! Wow!
I choose to remain calm and seize the day
Nancy,
Way to carpe diem. My favorite line: “I will not let this stop me.” Stay determined. You got this. ?
—Glenda
Glenda, thanks for this challenge! Your etheree puts a positive spin on this social distancing, finding both acceptance and a little magic, I think, in every line…”stories we share reach beyond this space” is particularly hopeful. I love how the first word is ‘home’ and the last word is ’embraced.’ This is sage advice for these times!
Here’s my contribution…
Favorite Things
tea
brownies
homemade bread
daily writing
long walks to nowhere,
surrounded by nature
dancing in the living room
time alone, quiet, with my thoughts
snuggles and books with my granddaughter
these are a few of my favorite things
Maureen- Wow! So fun and positive. I feel inspired to create and dance! And I’ve got a good book to read. Thanks!
I love some of your favorite things, so your list made me want to read more. I also enjoyed the allusion to Sound of Music. Thank you for sharing.
Maureen,
There’s a hierarchical movement in your poem. I love this progression from simple comforts to those that nourish our minds to our need for human contact, even if it’s virtual connection only. Wonderful allusion in the last line. I visited many of the “Sound of Music” sites in Austria last November. I think I’ll look at the photos today. Thank you.
—Glenda
The beautiful, simple things in life!! I love “long walks to nowhere, / surrounded by nature”. These kind of walks are keeping me sane right now 🙂 I also appreciate how you used punctuation in this poem – just a few commas, and nothing else – but the parts with commas seem emphasized and important. Nice!
Your writing brought a huge smile to my face! I am about to sit down are write a Favorite Things poem, too! Thank you for this inspiration.
I like the way it builds into a melody of something familiar at the end – and then I don’t feel so bad.
Maureen, your poem builds in strength from simple to more soulful pleasures. It reads like a gratitude list, and I am reminded of how fulfilling it can be to count our blessings and name our “favorites.” Thank you for sharing your “favorite things” and your poem with us!
Clean
Housekeep
Janitor
Custodian
Sanitize our space
Swept up in a mess and
Forgotten, their importance
Their risk, limited gratitude
Our accolades should dust over them
Grass root warriors of the contagion
Stefani,
Oooowweeeee, “grass root warriors of the contagion” WOW! I need to share this with my plant manager.
The fact that those who take care of our schools, classrooms, spaces of BEING, can be so easily “forgotten, their importance, their risk…” is another reminder of what this pandemic is doing.
I am going to send my plant manager some love right now.
Thank you!
Stefani,
“Grass root warrior” situates the speaker is a warrior in the battle to keep things clean. I love the way the poem celebrates those whose work often goes unnoticed and unacknowledged: janitor, custodian, housekeep. Thank you.
—Glenda
Amen!
Our accolades should dust over them
Grass root warriors of the contagion
We often look up to leaders, than around at those doing the work! Thanks for the shout out to the “grassroots warriors”.
“Work”
Bored
Lonely
A new job
Stick to the plan
Opportunity
Persistence and some grit
Now it’s time to prove yourself
Use all that you have learned these years
Have confidence and be authentic
You are the perfect person for this role
Jack. I love “ you are the perfect person for this roll”. To all of you who must work during this time— thank you. I’m newly retired, and I’m filled with gratitude for those who are plugging along. ?
Jack,
“New job”? Wow, I can’t imagine how hard that must be during this stressful time. Stay determined. “Persistence and grit” will support you. Remember, everyone is new to this world order. My best to you, and reach out if you need resources. Thank you.
—Glenda
Glenda, thank you for this prompt. I love it! Liz Garton Scanlon recently recorded a youtube demo of how to write an etheree for kids out of school during Covid-19. My heart hurts for you losing your friend yesterday. This health scare is awful and losing someone so dear to it just has to be a gut punch. You remain in my thoughts today…especially thinking of you writing today’s etheree with that beautiful last word, embrace.
Guess what? It’s Jane Goodall’s Birthday! National Geographic made their museum exhibition (currently closed due to Covid-19) virtual so that we could all celebrate. Here’s the link and the inspiration for my etheree. https://blog.nationalgeographic.org/2020/04/03/the-national-geographic-museum-releases-a-virtual-tour-of-its-current-exhibition-becoming-jane-the-evolution-of-dr-jane-goodall/
Celebrating Jane Goodall’s Birthday
Jane
Goodall
a simple
name for a girl’s
determination
A woman scientist
using the gift of her life
to strengthen family, friendships
bonds that keep us all healthy with her
bright, indomitable human spirit
Linda,
What a sweet tribute to Jane Goodall and thank you for sharing the link too.
I especially love:
using the gift of her life
to strengthen family, friendships
bonds that keep us all healthy with her
bright, indomitable human spirit
We all need to remember these bonds.
?
Linda,
Celebrating Jane Goodall is a perfect employment of the Etheree. I love the way forms like this can support learning and processing what we study. “Indomitable” is my favorite word in your poem and perfect for Jane Goodall.
I did see the Etheree video but had already submitted the prompt to Sarah. I try to find forms and prompts teachers may not know yet. I wanted to create a prompt for a form Jericho Brown devised, but it’s a bit complicated to a short response.
And thank you for your kind words. The news was a gut punch, and I can’t help but think about the failed national response to the virus and how many lives would have been spared if we had competent leadership.
—Glenda
Linda, I am really impressed with this! Your poem is really a mini-biography, an introduction to her. Thanks, too, for the National Geographic link – I am a huge fan of Jane Goodall. I had never really thought about the simplicity of her name – her life is so big and memorable, as your poem makes clear.
Empty Beach Swing in March
I’m
gripping
cold metal,
feet pointed true
beyond silent sand
toward icy churning waves.
In defiant crests of flight
at the top of each gray pendulum
I’m launched like a stone thrown randomly
into the crashing loveliness of light.
You have captured the coldness in the isolation of empty swings. I love that your movement mimics the motion of the waves, the use of “gray pendulum” and the launch into light! This speaks loudly today.
Angie, Thank you this imagery this morning. I most appreciate the lines, “defiant crests of flight” and “crashing loveliness of light.” I hope you can enjoy this swing through April.
Angie,
You offer us an exquisite image of a swing arching toward the sun. “Launched like a stone” returns me to my childhood and soaring through the air. I’m feeling nostalgic. Lovely poem. Thank you.
—Glenda
Angie, what a beauty this is! I felt instantly compelled to join you on the swing, “gripping cold metal.”
The images of the “defiant crests of flight/at the top of each gray pendulum” and being “launched like a stone thrown randomly into the crashing loveliness of light” leave me feeling free.
Thank you for this peaceful piece!
Angie, I feel as if I am right there, in that beach setting. You’ve used some very strong words – gripping, churning, defiant, crashing – making me wonder about the fuller story. I particularly am struck by the final words “crashing loveliness of light.”
Angie, How cleverly you’ve used paradox to inspire us to see the good in the midst of the bad and sad! One would not expect a stone to be thrown into lovely light!
I’m launched like a stone thrown randomly
into the crashing loveliness of light.
Week 3 of social isolation. It’s been ROUGH.
Cats
Beezus
And her sis
Lil Ramona.
My companions
while I am cut off from
the rest of the world. They are
here for me when nobody else
can be. I miss my humans so much
but my furry felines help keep me sane.
Jessica,
I have a “furry feline” and two dogs keeping me company. My cat walked all over scrapbooking materials this morning. She found a sticker to play with. Still, this isolation is rough. I too “miss my humans.” Love your kitties’ names. Thank you.
—Glenda
Ohhhh, how I love our furry felines! My heart is with you in this poem paying honor and giving much love to our companions. My Tootsie is doing the same thing for me. I still have contact with humans, but sometimes all I need is my cat to “help keep me sane.” TRUTH!
Thank you Jessica.
It’s interesting to me how many of these are about sounds. . .
Bread
Manna
Staff of life
Loaves freshly baked
Multi grain, whole wheat
Sour dough, comforting white
Not just loaves, but bagels, naan,
Muffins, sweet bread, pancakes, corn bread,
Tortillas, chapati, ciabatta
How many pounds and breads before we’re done?
Denise,
Thank you for this gluten-filled poem. I love how you end with a question and reference it as “staff of life.”
It does seem everyone is baking, doesn’t it? I guess it’s our human response to what we essentially need – bread and water. Simple times call for the basics. I can smell the aromas in your poem today!
Denise,
Now I’m hungry. This Etheree is delicious. I love the listing of all the breads. I wish I’d learned to bake bread. I’m having bread-baking FOMO right now. Thank you.
—Glenda
My husband works in the yard and I bake. Trying my hand at naan soon. I was caught by the first three lines of your poem and wondered if this were a spiritual exercise. Then, you took a wonderful turn that I didn’t expect and made me laugh – thank you for that.
Denise,
As a baker, I love that you puzzle-pieced together multi/monosyllabic breads. The perfect inspiration as we go into the weekend! That final line is both playful, but in contrast to the first lines, also brings in a pinch of existential questioning. My next break will be pondering this life over a hunk of sourdough from Tuesday’s labors 😀
Thanks for your words!
Denise, it sounds like you and I are both spending our days dreaming of (and trying to create ) bread stuffs. Your allusion to “manna”and “staff of life” grounds this earthly pursuit in a heavenly purpose…and I don’t feel as bad about trying to sooth my soul with all the bready goodness. Thank you for sharing your poem with us!
An Ode to Ninja Coffeemakers
On
Warm-up
Rich, drip-drop
Reach to the top
Rae Dunn coffee cup
Milk forty-five seconds
Swirl, whirl, froth gently arise
Waterfall of dark elixir
Spoon of sugar, swirl sweetly
The first drink, and I am ready now.
Ready for wild boys and playful dogs.
love love love this. but now i’ll have to have a 3rd cup of coffee. 😉
Cheers! It is awfully gloomy here, so it’s been an all day cup type of day!
Ashley, your title alone got me chuckling. Your line, “waterfall of dark elixir” is my favorite. I want to bask in the pool it creates at the bottom. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you! I tell my sons it is a magical potion ?
Ashley,
Lots the way the Etheree “drips” in droplets of syllables the way coffee brews. “Swirl, whirl” replicates the sound of coffee brewing, which I’m hearing right now. This poem takes me to a happy, coffee-sipping place. Thank you.
—Glenda
Glenda,
I am so glad my words brought a little happy to your day! Thinking of you and your friends ❤️
The Rae Dunn coffee cup – love that detail. I can taste the alliterative sweet swirl of sugar. And Lord, do I know the energy of wild boys and playful dogs. Thank you for sharing!
Ashley,
I love that you combined this form with the ode. As your lines crescendo, so too does your enthusiasm for your coffeemaker (very relatable). I particularly like your lines: “Swirl, whirl, froth gently arise/Waterfall of dark elixir.” I may have to integrate “dark elixir” into my daily lexicon now.
Thanks for sharing!
Laura
Thank you! Saying “thanks for the elixir” at Starbucks is a great experience—just for when social distancing is over.
This is a very soothing poem – I could taste the most beautiful latte in this.
Thank you! The Ninja Coffeemaker is actually pretty awesome. It soothes me.
Ashley, you have elevated the morning coffee ritual to an artform! I am struck by your use of sound devices. The use of “p” consonance at the ends of your first few lines mirrors the pops and gurgles of the coffeemaker…the “swirls and whirls” of the steaming milk (my favorite part of making lattes as a waitress)…even your alliterative “r” and “s” sounds add a playful energy to the poem and move it briskly along (like the coffee from the maker to the cup to your lips). Such a fun read! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you! I tried to emulate those sounds, so I am glad it came across!
Noise
Noise.
There is
Not enough
Now. I thought that
I would welcome it—
Silence. But now I crave
Reminding them, “Wait until
I finish with the directions
Before you ask any questions, please!!”
Sometimes, noise is another word for joy.
I thought I would welcome the silence too. But there’s so much of it! The energy is missing. We have lost so much. I love that you noticed the joy that is noise. It reminds me of the clapping in the evenings for health care workers, of the chatter of students, of the busyness of life.
Gayle,
the silence can be deafening – – it is nice to feel the pulse of life in the voices of others. I do appreciate that golden silence in the early mornings with coffee and a pen and a journal, but too much of a good thing takes away its appeal. Noise = joy. Until it doesn’t. Finding the balance……
Gayle,
The dialogue here brings the children into stark relief. I love the last line celebrating the joy of children asking questions. Thank you.
—Glenda
Crow
Black crow
Branch bidden
Solitary
A dark silhouette
Against the morning sky
Wings stretch, measuring freedom
Life beckons you to soar above
Your journey an uncluttered pathway
Beyond those grounded and gravity weighed
Jennifer, I appreciate your perspective in this poem. Crows often get a bad reputation, but not with you. I particularly love the idea of us being gravity weighed.
journey an uncluttered pathway – – this lightweight feeling of necessities minus the extravagance is liberating. The wings stretch and measure freedom – – with no clutter, wings spread farther….with clutter, they can’t. You may have just inspired a closet cleanout today.
Gravity weighted is such a wonderful phrase. WE are all gravity-weighted—even more so right now. I’ve never been fond of crows, but now I envy them just a bit.
Jennifer,
There’s a song about black crows I’m trying to recall, prompted by your poem. I see that crow “against the morning sky.” These are themes Andrew Cuomo us touching in today:
“ Life beckons you to soar above
Your journey an uncluttered pathway
Beyond those grounded and gravity weighed”
It is what we do when we must: “soar above.” Thank you.
—Glenda
Taking Back a Wish
Sad
Silence
No more sound
No more people
No more rickshaw bells
No more vehicle horns
No more deafening dog howls
What you wish for sometimes comes true
I wished for the constant noise to stop
I didn’t realize noise equals life
Angie, your title is so poignant. I think we’ve all been there, but your approach to our current situation is so well done. The sadness is strong in your poem.
Angie, you help us appreciate the things that drive us nuts by helping us accept that the fleas come with the dog. Nice perspective – – noise equals life.
My sentiments exactly. I did not realize how much noise I had in my life as a teacher. I do, now…
Angie,
Wonderful “noise” in your poem, especially the alliteration in “sad, silence, sounds.” I hear the rickshaw. Yes, “What you wish for sometimes comes true” and that can be devastating. Thank you.
—Glenda
Angie,
I love this! The anaphora of “no more” has such power.
And that last line…wow.
Angie — Yes! I’ve been feeling the same thing here. The sudden lack of sound…even seemingly useless noise… is a stunningly peculiar state. I really appreciated the list of your sounds. My sounds include a freight train in the distance, the famed Route 66 which carries very little traffic now… what I have noticed though that was not as evident as before are the birds that really seem quite pleased with my keeping the feeders loaded (well, until that last bag of sunflower seeds runs out). Maybe we just need to listen for new sounds… kinder sounds. I’ll send some of my birds to Dhaka. 🙂 Susie
Haha…there is only so much I can put into this small poem. There ARE birds here and we can hear them! I will have to write like a contrast poem in which some sounds are gone and it is equally good and bad and allows for other nice sounds to be heard! 🙂
Why I Read
When
reading
I transcend
Mundane worries.
I visit distant
worlds, where lords love ladies,
time travel transports, wars wage,
children frolic in sweet gardens,
dragons incinerate evil queens.
Returning home fills my venturesome heart.
I love your description in this poem – it really captures why many of us read. Really well done.
Mo! So good to be with you! The line “lords love ladies” and the image of “time travel” alongside war, dragons, queens. This is so vivid and fantastical.
Sarah
Gardens incinerate evil queens! This is my favorite line. I love that you return home to fill your venturesome heart. Reading is such a blessing. I am grateful we have those words to take us away. Thank you for reminding us of that this morning.
That’s why I read too. Nicely captured.
Mo, what a treat! Where lords love ladies and dogs incinerate queens and children frolic. Between the quarantine and some show I think they call Tiger something-or-other, I guess we see that anything’s possible – – where fiction suddenly becomes reality. I want a good look at these lords.
Really love all of the stories that fit into this one short poem!
Mo,
What a wonderful celebration of reading. I’ve struggled reading lately. Maybe that’s because nonfiction is immersion and not escape. I need to “visit distant worlds” and read some fantasy, perhaps. Love this. Thank you.
—Glenda
Glenda, lately I find that listening to books is easier for me.
Oh, Mo. This is so good. It succinctly captures how wonderful reading is and your use of sound really works!
Mo — “Transcend” indeed! This poem would make a marvelous mentor poem for your students. Were I still in the classroom, I’d absolutely ask you to borrow it for my class. Thank you, Susie
fresh start
walk
three dogs
most mornings
ease into day
notice all around
places for my thinking
to begin and venture forth
few abrasive responses reply
fresh air light waking morning arrives
new start optimism abounds day begins
Jamie, your poem made me smile. I too, have three dogs. I hope you are better at walking your three than I am! I love how you’ve framed this as an opportunity to set the tone for your day.
Jamie, I love the line “fresh air light waking morning arrives” as it really does move me to think about the possibilities of each new day. Thank you for this perspective.
Sarah
Fresh air light waking morning arrives. I can feel those words physically. Thank you!
Those morning walks are necessary for me as well. Easing in, gathering thoughts, living in the freshness of the day. You’ve invited us into that fresh start! And you’ve reminded me I need to get out and walk!
Jamie,
Walking the dogs is such a cleansing, grounding activity. Love this last line: “new start optimism abounds day begins” the way I try to start each day. Thank you.
—Glenda
Love seeing these syllables describe moments I’ve been fortunate to share with you 😀
I like that you describe what you notice as a place for thoughts to exist or begin or grow: “notice all around/places for my thinking.” Places beget place.
I’ll be hearing your words later this evening as I stroll my neighborhood.
Thanks for sharing!
Jamie — You’ve inspired me to get back to walking my one ol’ dog early in the mornings again. Even if he can’t go far, just getting out there in the “fresh air light waking morning…” will give me a “new start” that I sorely need. Your poem is a bit of salve today! Thank you, Susie
Glenda, I am so happy to learn this form and think it will be fun for my elementary students to try! I, too, loved your last line in which I found a moment of peace.
I’ll be back to write after my round of virtual meetings!
squirrel
Seymour
cagey hound
pounces feeder
bounces frail branches
stabs molded seed conduit
spills thistle, millet, milo, flax
hoards, devours until [clap, clap, clap]
a brash staredown, challenge accepted
feeder safely inside, I tap a poem until
Seymour claws my window, black marble eyes
ogle the apparatus, shoot daggers at the safflower thief,
calculating the blueprint for revenge that is to come.
And this is the story of my portly squirrel stalker, Seymour.
I wake in the morning to see him on a branch hanging from his tail watching me.
I see him in the afternoon on hind legs judging my poetry. No joke, Seymour is stalking me.
Sarah,
??? I love Seymour. He sees more, for sure. He belongs in a picture book staring you down as you write. Fun poem. Thank you.
—Glenda
Sarah, what fun! I’m enjoying your interludes with wildlife so much, and I’m laughing that you have named this squirrel and that you are playing a game of Safflower Seed Keepaway with him, each of you strategizing over the next move. I could be wrong here, but I have a hunch that you are enjoying your interactions with your buddy Seymour far more that those with your birds. He has moved in to your life, albeit uninvited, and he’s now a fixture. He wants his quarantine dinner – and I think he’s honored that you wrote about him today.
“calculating the blueprint for revenge that is to come.” 🙂 I’ll keep coming back to this one.
I felt like I knew Seymour‘s anxiety as his “black marble eyes” peered in at you. This poem brought joy to my morning with its playfulness and cadence!! I enjoyed the word choice as well.
This is great, Sarah. We also have a few bodacious squirrels that seem to challenge us on a daily basis. My grandson’s first two-word phrase was “Go home!” which I taught him to shout at the squirrels. You’ve done a great job of capturing squirrel attitude!
Oh, the squirrelitude here! Your cagey hound. We’ve truly flipped roles in the weird world now. Seymour staring in. I loved the humor of this. The image of the portly squirrel with black marble eyes. The description – safflower thief. The plotting – the blueprint for revenge!
Sarah, this is so fun! I like the way that the suspense builds with each line, and then, “safely inside,” just when things must be better, there’s a final scary twist “revenge that is to come.” !
Ha – “challenge accepted”, indeed! Seymour is clearly enjoying the Donovans in their new home. He reminds me of the very bold squirrels that used to frequent the Quad in Champaign. I suppose they have evolved to be a confident and unapologetic lot over the years of foraging for their survival. He is your unintended companion, hermana; I wish it was me.
Sarah, Seymour’s cousin, Freddie, lives in Western Michigan! I get a kick out of seeing my husband and our neighborhood squirrel, whom I just named Freddie, interacting the way this line reads:
a brash staredown, challenge accepted
You’d swear they were actually talking to one another using sign language with batting eyelashes.
Sarah — What a terrific cacophonous scenario you’ve painted here. “Brash staredown” made me chuckle but the last line just sent it to out loud laughter: “calculating the blueprint for revenge.” I have some bold little buggers out on my feeders all day long as well… my birdies argue with them, but the tenacity of the “Seymours” is the stuff of legends! Fun! Thank you, Susie
Beacon of Hope (Jenny Sykes)
Light
Sunshine
Flooding in
Sharing its hope
In this brand new day
Enveloping my fears
Unpacking anxiety
Consoling me with compassion
Providing a much needed embrace
Inviting me to bask in its glimmer
Jenny,
Lovely imagery here. “Sunshine / Flooding in /Sharing its hope.” This speaks to me as I find ways to get outside each day, despite snow yesterday. Lovely. Thank you.
—Glenda
Your words set a tone of peace today, Jennifer. Consoling, enveloping, unpacking, embrace, bask, glimmer…..your image takes us away from what’s out there and brings us to the comfort of a sunlit room where everything is warm and inviting.
When you wrote “consoling me with compassion”, the flow of the line into the next really felt like an embrace that the day have and the space of time between an embrace beginning and ending. Lovely work! Thank you for sharing!
What a difference the sun makes – you’ve captured the beauty in it (sharing its hope, unpacking anxiety). These moments are a “much needed embrace.” This poem brought me comfort today. Thank you for sharing the brightness of your moment.
Jenny,
love the personification. The sun showing compassion.
Isn’t it amazing what a sunny day can do, especially during these times?!
Jenny — Boy, isn’t that the truth! I am always astounded at how different life is with sunshine… the sense of “new day” indeed…. I really like that the sunshines becomes so human…consoling, providing, inviting… As is it now clouding over in St. Louis AGAIN, I’m really appreciating your sunshine. Thanks, Susie
“Stories we share reach beyond this space” – That’s certainly the hope, isn’t it? I like thinking about all of the things ‘space’ can mean there.
Morning Standoff
tail
wagging
beckoning
raising bottom
guarding his knot toy
chinning floor, front legs flat
cutting vicious eyes at me
daring me to move a muscle
growling an invitation to die
angels fear to tread in morning standoffs
Kim,
You’ve described the morning ritual in our home. “Angels fear to tread” indeed. Love this fun Etheree. Thank you.
—Glenda
Kim,
This is great! I could totally imagine this standoff as I read. Your words are so powerful. I especially enjoyed “cutting vicious eyes at me”. Thanks for sharing this humorous standoff. The laugh was much needed.
What a fun, energy-filled view of your dog this morning. I love the “raising bottom, chinning floor, front legs flat” image. But it’s the cutting of the eyes that dare you to move that grabbed me most. I’ve had many a stand-off of my own with these best parts of a family.
This is such a wonderful picture of your morning!! You create a visual that resonates with me. I especially like the last line—angels fear to tread. What a happy poem!
This reminds me of my chihuahua and bus toys! I think you wrote this in a way others could apply it to their own lives, and the ambiguity strengthened the connection a reader has to the words. I enjoyed this so much! Thank you for sharing!
Kim — Our li’l buddies (well, mine’s not so “li’l” LOL!) sure do put a whole new spin on the day… I like that standoff… it keeps us normal in abnormal times. Thank you… I’m here smiling. Hugs, Susie
Kim, your poem is so playful and I picture that sweet pup guarding his toy. You explained his movements with precision, and even when limiting your syllables. You also capture the seriousness with which he takes the “play”–vicious eyes cutting, daring you, invitation to die. This is a very sweet and fun poem to show this morning ritual.
Hard
to be-
lieve toilet
paper and san-
itizer occu-
py our days. No one has
said that six feet away is
like six feet under. Do not touch!
This is how you live! This is no way
to live. I don’t know what over sounds like.
Charles,
I hear you. My sons in Boise can’t find toilet paper. We’re taking them some on April 8, the youngest’s birthday. It’ll be a drive-by visit. So surreal. “No one has said six feet away is like six feet under.” It really is. Thank you.
—Glenda
I’m sitting here imagining this: dad is driving, mom is in the back seat with the window rolled down and 12 giftwrapped packages – the colorful kind, with resplendent bows. The car slows at the beginning of the front yard, and mom begins tossing resplendently wrapped gifts onto the lawn , a few feet apart as they drive past. After the last gift is tossed, Mom and Dad blow social distancing kisses at the birthday boy, who eagerly tears into the first of 12 packages and then makes a beeline for the front door. None of this is funny, of course, but the absurdity of our “new normal” demands that if we don’t laugh, we’ll surely all be crying. I know that your son is going to be grateful for your help – and especially knowing that for most of us right now, toilet paper is one of the greatest sacrifices any of us can make. Who would have EVER thought?
Charles,
I love how you hyphenated the words to fulfill the poem’s formula, and the message that it sends that we all need to make adjustments during this time. We all have to adhere to a new “normal”, and you were illustrating this with words here. The message of the poem is also very powerful. “No one said that six feet away is like six feet under” is such a great simile. and then to not know what “over sounds like”. Very strong. Thanks.
Charles, you give new directionality emphasis to six feet away and six feet under. That’s compelling to think about. I am drawn to your last line and how true that is for us – we don’t know what over feels like other than those days we dropped the coins in the game machines and lost our last pinball.
“I don’t know what over sounds like” – what a “beautiful” way to express how we are feeling. When will there be an “over”? So eerie but lovely and sad. All the emotions. Love your creativity with the hyphens as well 🙂
Charles, my dad keeps saying 6 feet away or 6 feet under as a reminder during this time. It certainly is no way to live. Who would have believed we would be here? I’d like to know what over sounds like again too.
I so respect the fact that you broke up the words to adhere to the “code”. I wish I’d thought of that! And you sum up our world to day so completely.
Charles,
Your line “six feet away is like six feet under”, it does feel like we are in a purgatory of sorts. I liked the manipulation of the words and thought it was extremely poignant and powerful!
Charles — I really like the way you truncated lines with those word-splits — really effective in halting our whole experience just like the outside mess is halting our lives in such incredible ways…I love the jerking rhythm of that. I especially like “six feet away is/like six feet under…” Oh man, TRUTH! Very validating and resonant with my own experiences. Thank you, Susie
Glenda,
Another fun new form to explore and excite! Your poem is simply lovely today – – and I ABSOLUTELY love how you used the title of one of my favorite books to show how we can be alone together! It’s so true – – the paradox is realized in many ways in our lives, and I’m thankful that we can still be together in our isolation. My favorite line: Alone together we reside. The extroverts among us are still figuring all this out, but the rest of us have got this!
I’ve been thinking about how social psychologists will write about this moment of social distancing given our dependence on tech to connect. It flips the conventional wisdom saying tech isolates.
Glenda,
I’m responding to your poem. I really liked the internal rhyme in the last line. Lovely last line. Thanks for sharing!
Good morning Glenda,
Thank you for such a fun poetry form to write today.
I love the end rhymes of your poem, but I especially love the end:
One human race, bound together, embraced.”
The hope you leave us with will carry us through our troubled times.
??