Our #OpenWrite Host
Jennifer Guyor-Jowett has taught English and Literature for over 30 years to 7th and 8th graders, contributes to the BlinkYA blog, and writes Educator Guides for MG and YA titles. She has written with fellow teachers at Aquinas College as a Summer Writing facilitator and occasionally co-hosts #MGBookChat. Follow her on Twitter @jenjowett .
Day 1, December Inspiration
Writers gift us with words. They willingly give of themselves, and while their hope for our love of the gift is nestled deep in every line, they expect nothing in return. Their titles give hint to what is inside, like wrapping: prettied up or pulled together sparingly.
During this season of giving, we can turn to the words already shared with us, to the gift writers have placed into our hands, and gift them back by repackaging them.
Process
Create a poem of titles from a poet, whose words are a gift to you (much like book spine poetry). Feel free to pretty the titles up with as many of your own words as you’d like or add words sparingly.
I share two poems examples this morning: one sparingly wrapped, the other more word-wrapped.
Jennifer’s Poems
Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End
Wild Geese
Don’t Hesitate
When Death Comes.
After Sleeping in the Forest,
these Starlings in Winter
make The Journey
Every Morning,
Gift us the Song of the Builders,
our Invitation
to see that Morning Again Was in the Dusty Pines
(*Title Poetry from Mary Oliver)
The United States Welcomes You
This Declaration is An Old Story,
one that speaks of The Good Life,
that Semi-Splendid time
which began in the Garden of Eden,
and fell
over
and over
and over,
only to rise again and
Wade in the Water,
awash in waves.
Each Dusk
reminds me,
and I stand shouting,
My God, It’s Full of Stars
to The Universe
as Primal Scream.
(* Title Poetry from Tracy K Smith)
Your Turn
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.
So this is late, but I still wanted to do this one. I got everything ready to do this one and promptly got busy and didn’t remember to come back and write the poem. I have yet to find a Pablo Neruda poem that I don’t just absolutely love, so I have chosen several of his pieces to do this one.
A Love Song: A Gift From Pablo Neruda
Tonight, lovely one,
Tonight, I Can Write the Saddest Lines
I sing
A Song of Despair
So that You will Hear Me
I Hunt for a Sign of You–
Enigmas
Lost in the Forest
at the
Entrance of the Rivers.
I Remember You As You Were
and I sing this
Ode to Broken Things,
The Poet’s Obligation.
I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair,
Triangles of Love.
Luminous Mind, Bright Devil
trapped in a
Tower of Light
The Light Wraps You
in a Waltz,
Always.
And Because Love Battles,
Don’t Go Far Off.
Here, I Love You.
It’s Good to Feel You are Close to Me.
Come With Me, I Said, and No One Knew
Nothing But Death–
Death Alone–
could offer my
Absence
to you.
Perhaps Not To Be is To Be Without You.
Love, We’re Going Home Now–
Tie Your Heart at Night to Mine, Love.
Rest With Your Dream Inside My Dream,
In You, The Earth
so
Leave Me A Place Underground,
for
Whoever Desired Each Other As We Do?
And
If You Forget Me,
Love,
may my devotion rush over you as the din rushes
In The Wave-Strike Over Unquiet Stones
so that all the earth resounds
and the stars are torn
asunder with its might.
My
Clenched Soul
held breathless in expectation
of only
Your Laughter.
Andrea, Thank you for writing this! I’m not too familiar with Pablo Neruda’s poems, so I really liked that I recognized a handful of these titles (and now I have some more to look for!). I especially liked your pairing of these lines:
Lost in the Forest
at the
Entrance of the Rivers.
I Remember You As You Were
and I sing this
Ode to Broken Things,
The Poet’s Obligation.
I’ve been drawn to Rilke’s Book of Hours (translated by Barrows and Macy) recently. There are no titles, so I used the first lines of different verses.
God speaks to each of us as he makes us
and God said to me:
The kings of the world are old and feeble
You are the future
You too will find your strength
I was there with the first mythmakers and monks
I have hymns you haven’t heard
I believe in all that has never yet been spoken
To you my prayers are no blasphemy
The poets will scatter you
Through the empty branches
I will find you there
and all who seek you
will inherit the sky
Oh Sharon, this is breathtaking. I am loving reading all these different poets today through the arrangement of new poets. It has been a beautiful prompt, and your poem is a reason why. Now, I’m off to read some Rilke.
It is breathtaking upon coming to that last line. I appreciate you chose poems with no titles – first lines work equally as well, and in some poems, the title is treated like a first line, with the true first line building upon it. Rilke is amazing, and it’s been a long time since I’ve read any of his works. This is a reminder of how powerful his lines are – each can be pulled out and contemplated in and of itself. Nicely layered and connected here.
Sharon, finding this poem this morning is a true gift. This is a beautiful imagining of our coming into being. With your permission, I’d love to share this with my students. It’s powerful.
What a gift to write today and join this community again! Thank your for the prompt and inspiring models.
Where the Sidewalk Ends
an Invitation
to Magic
and Colors
and Invention
and Love
an introduction
to a world
of Smart
and Point of View
and The Search
and Us
an invocation
to use Forgotten Language
as an answer to Don’t Tell Me
as a light for Afraid of the Dark
as a weapon to face the Monsters
I love Shel Silverstein, and I love how you blended his words together, especially that last stanza! Thank you, Betsy, for putting a smile on my face. : )
Oh, beautiful job putting these titles together. Like Sharon said, I love the last stanza especially. An invocation–a summoning help–to use language as an answer, a light, and a weapon. So powerful and beautiful.
Ha! I laughed and smiled out loud just to read the title and know where this was coming from! I love the use of “small words” to start each line – each a response to the call. It’s fun to scan the poem quickly without them, focusing on the main word(s) in each line – there’s a kind of larger conceptual flow in those. It was also fun to scan it backwards – and then forward again – to see the ebb and flow of them meaning. Lovely fun.
Betsy, thank you for this journey back to Shel Silverstein! I adore that last stanza – it captures childhood and bravery and playfulness, all in one!
Aw yes!! Good old Shel is an introduction, a window, somehow honored being a kid without making you feel like a kid. You really captured this. Love “as a weapon to face the Monsters”
For this, I added titles and favorite lines.
Gifts from Hughes
My People
Loud-mouthed laughers in the hands of Fate
I, Too
How beautiful I am.
I Look at the Whole World
Cross.
Life is fine [but]
I wonder where I’m gonna die.
Let America be America Again
America will be
Or Does it explode?
Dream Variations.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers
The Negro Speaks of
The Weary Blues and
Theme for English B.
As I learn from you,
To fling my arms wide [and]
Hold fast to dreams,
I guess you learn from me—
The world that’s in my mind,
although you’re older—and white—
and somewhat more free.
I tried to think but couldn’t
so I jumped in and sank
The stars went out and so did the moon
In Harlem.
Angie, what a tremendous way to use the words of Langston Hughes. I particularly loved “America will be/Or Does it Explode?” as it’s a reflection of current times (and times gone past too). as well as that beautiful ending – “The stars went out and so did the moon/In Harlem.”
Angie, I love how you worked the prompt. I find your last lines haunting.
Langston Hughes! Another of my favorites! This was my favorite part:
I tried to think but couldn’t
so I jumped in and sank
The stars went out and so did the moon
In Harlem
What a beautiful re-creation/new creation. How well you crafted the flow from one idea to the next, even if the language doesn’t perfectly match. This makes me want to see all the originals because I wonder how the lines ‘translate’ from the original to the recreation. Do they hold the same meaning? Do they gain in poetic power and value or lose that as they are moved from the original to the recreation? What a fascinating study in language that can be. I was focused more on just what they could mean in the recreation, and not so much on the process and what might be lost or gained in this kind of re-interpretation. This poem got me thinking about that! Nice!
Angie, I love the play between the punctuation… the longer sentences, the question, the fragment. You have reconfigured these lines and ideas into a beautiful and heavy meditation. Thank you for sharing it with us!
Better late than never, so here goes–
From the poem titles of Wislawa Szymborska
A Funeral
Tortures
Some People
Going home
Family Album
In Praise of Feeling Bad about Yourself
The End and the Beginning
Children of Our Age
Amy, these sparsely worded poems always amaze me in their depth and intricacy developed in so few words. Yours does that today. That first stanza really pulls us in!
Amy, I’m not familiar with Wislawa Szymborska‘s work, but you’ve really piqued my interest with the titles you’ve chosen.
Amy, I’m with Mo on this. I’m not familiar with Szymborska, so thank you for the introduction! I hoped over to Poetry Foundation and read her poems “The End and the Beginning” and “Identification” — very good! So, thank you for sharing this!
Based on On the Pulse of Morning by Maya Angelou
A Rock can be thrown at a bully or it can remind
you where you buried your diary in the backyard, to keep it away from your
nosey older sister.
A River can be wide enough to help you to escape to a new world,
to a new adventure, or can be a running pathway to the ocean.
A Tree can be climbed, and lived in. It might be skinny, rough,
or smooth. It can be 100 years old or 2 years young.
It can hide and protect you, can grow and give, and even feed you.
We can be any or all of these.
Seana, I love the contradiction of how the rock is used in that first stanza. These images are vivid – both reminders of significant life events. I could easily envision each of these stanzas. Thank you for sharing today!
Deans, your poem feels hopeful to me. You remind me that there is more than one way to look at a situation and that anything is possible!
I love the imagery of there being a diary buried in the backyard – and laughed out loud at keeping it away from a nosey sibling. How many of us had to “hide our words” when we were younger? Maybe even now? But then the idea of the river sobered me up – imagining desperate human beings crossing what could kill them, but the ocean – vast and open with opportunity – as early explorers knew its worth. The tree, so particularly non-specified says, “it can be any tree you know or imagine.” Also reminds me of The Giving Tree. The shift from you to we in the closing line is subtle but powerful. Beautiful. This one resonates with me.
Seana, I love how these concrete images—the rock, the river, the tree—have new and personal meaning in your poem. They are such significant and recurrent symbols, but your metaphors give them new life and perspective. Thank you for sharing your poem with us.
I came back this morning to see what I missed last night. Wow, Seana, your poem reminds me of The Important Book. Love how it teaches us something new about ordinary things. Such vivid images, clever comparisons, and hopeful lessons for all of us to learn. I loved the buried diary! OMG, how real is that. My favorite line is:
Lord knows, we could all use an escape to a new world! Bravo, Sis!
?Stacey
Good evening! I love the way Billy Collins again and again startles and pleases me with his art. These are the poem titles I chose to work with:
The afterlife
The art of drowning
Aimless love
The best cigarette
The biography of a cloud
The chair that no one sits in
Aristotle
Dear reader
The death of allegory
Driving through the light
Deathbeds
Dear reader
The end of the world
The first line of a poem
The end of the world
Fiftieth birthday eve
First reader
I go back to the house for a book
The birds of america
In all the excitement I forgot to ask his name
The lanyard
Introduction to poetry
This poem is mostly my playful attempt to make connections. I also appreciate how this prompt gave me an excuse to read some of BC’s poems I hadn’t read before!
From Billy Collins
Dear reader,
I go back to the house for a book.
The first line of a poem
is
The end of the world.
The best cigarette?
Fiftieth Birthday Eve.
The chair that no one sits in?
A deathbed.
In all the excitement I forgot to ask his name:
Aristotle
The art of drowning
deserves a stanza of its own.
The afterlife of aimless love
is told in
the biography of a cloud.
Driving through the light,
I know the death of allegory.
First reader,
I give you an
Introduction to poetry.
I agree Billy Collins is an outstanding poet, but your connections here are riveting, Allison! So many thought-provoking images and lines. I especially enjoyed “The biography of a cloud” followed by “The chair that no one sits in”..both images share a whole other layer of emotion. Intoxicating poem!
I find the way you organized these titles into meaningful lines so clever. I especially love: “The art of drowning/ deserves a stanza all its own,” maybe because drowning is an apt description of 2020 for me, and that part shook me a bit.
Allison, I can still hear the voice of Billy Collins throughout this but your positioning of the lines pushes me to think of them in a new way. I love the “art of drowning deserves a stanza of its own” – so powerful. As is the stanza that follows it. Just beautiful.
Ahh! I love some of these lines:
The first line of a poem
is
The end of the world.
The art of drowning
deserves a stanza of its own.
The afterlife of aimless love
is told in
the biography of a cloud.
I love how these lines work together and coming up with a meaning.
Very nice 🙂
Oh Allison, I don’t know where to begin. I love BC also. I first noticed the order (almost alphabetical) and wondered if you were intentional with that in addition to the PERFECTION of each choice? Wow. My favorite lines could easily have been your whole poem, but this resonated with me most:
The afterlife of aimless love
is told in
the biography of a cloud.
Brilliant, beautiful, and as always so much fun to read to what you write.
Thy Will Be Done
The Watchers
The Sisters
The Waiting
for The Summons that finally came
after The Common Question asked
What The Birds Said
when they saw our lack of responsibility
Lines to The Hero
The Barefoot Boy
At Last
noticing
The Cross we bore
The Human Sacrifice
death during a crisis
Thy will be Done
A Word for the Hour (maybe year)
“Above the storm our prayers we left”
Thy Will be Done
Titles from the poems of John Greenleaf Whittier
The repetition of “thy will be done” was a powerful tug through this poem. Thank you for guiding me back to John Greenleaf Whittier.
Wow, Susan, this poem really carries a striking chord. I am mesmerized by so many images and emotions throughout this poem. I so enjoyed your opening lines…absolutely commanding! I especially liked the line “death during a crises”…I feel that line reverberate! Awesome!
I agree that the repetition of Thy Will be Done is effective.
Her frosted fingers,
pink with purple eyebrows
along the edge of nails,
gently pulls on the tube,
the wrapping paper of red
and green and yellow trees
rooted in a white forest
now dancing like confetti
with the winds of tomorrow,
as today sleeps forever on,
dreaming of yesterday,
while she revels in her role
as goddess of the earth
Kevin, the description of the trees “dancing like confetti with the winds of tomorrow” in the white forest has a dreamlike quality, the feel of a fairytale. I’m imagining Narnia and other childhood magical places.
Kevin, as I read your poem I saw a young woman’s hands wrapping a gift. Your choice of so many colors prepared me for “confetti.” I see a young woman in the moment: insouciant about the past, not anxious about the future: secure in her role (goddess!) in the now.
Reading this was a pleasure.
Kevin,
I love the colors in your poem. So vivid and whimsical!
Kevin, I just love the images that come up for me. I see the colors of frost, pink, purple, green, yellow, red and white. So lovely to put into a dream of yesterday and the goddess of the earth.
Dreams bite…
Making it
Now
A family resemblance,
The woman thing,
Even
To a girl who knows what side her bread was buttered on
If you come softly,
Lightly Echo
Rites of passage
(titles from Audre Lorde, a compilation)
Hi Laura!!
Phenomenal poem! Love Audre Lorde and you’ve done her titles great justice! This made me want to read whatever you pulled it from:
Beautiful words!
Thanks, Stacey! I feel like I cheated since I pulled them from an anthology of Lorde poetry (The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde) 😀 There was *a lot* to work with!
Laura, there’s no one way to do these and the anthology you pulled them from was a great source – this is beautiful! I love that last stanza!
The poems delivered from this prompt drive me back to the poets honored! “Lightly Echo” is a poem I haven’t read, but now I will! Same with “Dreams Bite.”
I love the patterns you found (created) by juxtapositioning titles.
Maya Says *
I know why the caged bird sings
He’d loved to make more use of his wings.
And still I rise, to be myself,
not just to beat the guys.
Don’t quit when you wonder what it takes to fit
Be yourself. It don’t matter, not one little bit.
A rock, a river, a tree.
Just be what God made you to be.
Equality, justice, and equity
Words we hear in the news today.
Each is important to all of us
That’s what Maya had to say!
So stop your fuss!
Sit in the front of the bus!
Sing out loud, fly on those wings!
Rise past the rock, the river, and the tree
And Soar!
Become who God made you to be!
*For this I’ve Italicized titles of Maya Angelou poems
This line is sitting with me:
“Rise past the rock, the river, and the tree”
I am in a nature mood, although I realize your poem is much more than that.
Kevin
Anna, your additions to Maya’s words are beautiful. That first pairing resonates, and I want to carry it with me for awhile. Bringing that back and rising past the rock, the river, and the tree to soar is a powerful ending.
Anna, the joyful self-affirmation and power of this poem absolutely rocks! I love Maya Angelou and you incorporated her titles so well here. I especially love the rhythm and rhyme. I hear this poem singing with bravado, clarity and beauty! Loved it!
Titles from songs I love
By: Emily Yamasaki
Brave
All this love
No Matter
Gravity
Fade out
Burn
Rise Up
Stay with you
What lovers do
Ah, I love that .. pulling song titles to make a poem (like book spine poetry, but an audio version)
Kevin
Emily, you begin with strength (braveness in love) and that continues throughout. Great verbs (fade, burn, rise) to build it!
Emily, the pace of this poem is sensational, and the active words carry a powerful punch. Love “Fade out/Burn/Rise Up/Stay with You”… the imagery is striking and resonates of long unions..as this is “What lovers do”! Sweet! You say it so well!
What a great idea to use song titles!
Because I could not stop for death
It might be easier
first lines by Emily Dickinson
So beautiful and simple. I love these lines!
Katrina, the pairing of these lines is like the perfect morsel. Everything is contained within a small bite. I believe Emily would appreciate the simplicity here too.
Katrina,
I love this. I can’t stop reading these lines over and in my head. So many thoughts wandering!
Argh! I love that this has multiple interpretations! This would be a great prompt for students. (Do retired teachers EVER stop thinking about how things would work in a classroom – or is this for life?!)
[Borrowing Gifted Words from Ada Limón in her volume Bright Dead Things]
On Losing You
A quiet machine in the back of my mind
reminds me there is noisiness in sleep
as I stare long enough to see into nothing,
downhearted in the dark nights since you died,
and I hear the relentless
bellow of memories
of your blind old eyes that still saw me
no matter how far away we were,
you with that un-conditional tether.
by Susie Morice©
Susie,
The grief in this mournful lamentation is palpable, especially in the lines
and
I like thinking this poem is about your canine companion and the “unconditional tether.” Heartbreaking poem, my friend.
—Glenda
Susie, The lines “your blind old eyes that still saw me no matter how far away we were” made me think of my father during his last days. Some nights and days I get the bellow of memories of our wonderful times together. I wonder what he would think of our times now, politics and virus and all.
Susie, these are the lines that speak to me as a recipient of such love and a challenge to show such love. No, I still have decent physical sight, but sometimes I am blind to the beauty of others.
“of your blind old eyes that still saw me”
This first line is just so powerful … I read it three or four times …
Kevin
Another whopper of a poem! I have no certainty these aren’t all YOUR words, they exude all that is Susie’s poetry.
I adore this image:
I would hope we can all have the kind of un-conditional tether that gives us memories of everlasting love.
My friend, thank you for this lovely gift!
Susie, sending you hugs on this one, especially as I sit next to my own four legged friend with his increasing blindness. The phrase ‘unconditional tether” is a perfect description.
Susie, your poem is just chock full of emotion. I am so moved by “downhearted in the dark nights since you died,”. Wow! The alliteration here as well as the love and grief combined make this so incredibly moving. The “bellow of memories” adds so much to the sensory appeal, and then you wrap it up with the image of the “blind old eyes that still saw me”! So strikingly beautiful…. followed by “you with that un-conditional tether”….this is what I want to be for my own children. Kudos, Susie! Incredibly powerful poem!
Susie, so good (and heartbreaking, too)! “[O]f your blind old eyes that still saw me / no matter how far away we were” is such a tender sentiment. I love this! (And after looking up some of these titles, I saw how much you added to them to make this poem work, and I appreciated it even more!)
Poem
Poem
Poem
poem
Poem poem
Poem
Poem poem poem
Poe
m
Poem
P
o
em
P
oemp
oem
Poempoempoempoem
Poem
POEM
______________
Poetic stylings à la e e cummings with poem titles borrowed from Elizabeth Bishop, Louise Glück, Robert Creeley, Jorge Luis Borges (translated by Alastair Reid), Frank O’Hara, Charles Simic, and William Carlos Williams.
Scott, what a fun way to play with style and borrowed titles! I especially appreciate the areas where the word ‘Poem’ is broken onto different lines as it causes me to play with pronunciation too, along with the visual play.
Scott — You are so darned ingenious! Ha! Fun! Susie
Scott,
?I sense a vinyl record stuck on the same word.
—Glenda
Might be a poem in there, somewhere
🙂
Ha!
Titles by Sarah Kay are capitalized
Providence
send me Postcards
When Love Arrives,
remind me The Type of
Dreaming Boy who will trail
Love Letter kisses on my palms,
my Hands, my lips
stay Still, Here,
in this potent Scaffolding of
love
Tammi, Oh!! “Love Letter kisses on my palms, my hands, my lips” is such a beautiful surprise. But what follows, “stay Still, Here, in this potent Scaffolding of love” is just wow! I love this!
Tammi, so evocative and sensual! I particularly love that you are addressing Providence. And a dreaming boy- wow!
What a sweet love prayer poem, Tammi. I’ve just been lost for a while reading Sarah Kay poems. (How did I not know about her before?) Oh, my, so beautiful.
Your poem sounds like her. Your added words have woven her titles together to write a sweet story.
Jennifer, thank you for such a fun and challenging prompt. Words are gifts, and I love creating found poems.
Ode to A Regular Dervish: aka Debra Marquart
Everything’s a verb
In this room full of nothing
The weaver; the woman on the dance
All watching Joanne Castle Play
While doing the twist
Somewhere in a house where you are not—
These acts of preservation
Recall the blizzard rope;
Grandfather’s hands
Knitting
Between wives
A resurrection of questions
Like who do you belong to
Follow the motorcade;
Learning hard-and-fast gravity’s first lesson
Flying down dirt roads, doing ninety;
Riding shotgun through Iowa
Barb Edler
December 12, 2020
Barb, this is stunning. The lines “While doing the twist/Somewhere in a house where you are not—” stay with me, have stayed with me for several readings. This sense of things going on around us while we stand still and ask ourselves “who do you belong to.” So many layers to this!
Sarah
Barb, I’m seeing so many ideas in opposition to each other as I’m reading today (maybe because the prompt is a joining of other and us). The first of your lines is filled with action and is followed by something stationary or inaction or observation or pause, of some kind. I’m fascinated by this. Your opening two lines are so powerful.
Barb — there are so many interesting juxtapositions in this poem. I love the way you wove these titles together.
Wow, such vivid imagery. Brilliant how you wove these titles together into a nostalgic and somewhat melancholy tapestry of memories.
Barb — Holy cow! How did you do this? You are so good! This really is a poem chocked full of images that have me really going. Several spots really got me thinking: preservation with a blizzard rope — I kept seeing the the struggle to pull through the intense wind with a blizzard rope…. grandfather’s hands knitting… between wives absolutely has a bucket of stories (questions). The “who do you belong to” took me to those weddings when they separated folks in a church to the groom’s side or the bride’s side… all creating a crazy divide from the git-go. And then the “gravity’s first lesson”… that wild ride. The whole poem is that wild ride.I agree with you that found poems take us on journeys we certainly didn’t think we’d be taking when we sat down to write. Your poem has the onion effect — peel back, peel back… and peel out at 90 mph on the Iowa ribbon roads. LOL! Fun. Thanks, Susie
The anniversary of the death of John Lennon just passed. I remember exactly where I was the day
I heard he’d been shot. It grieves me still. I’ve not been a big poetry reader, but if you put poetry to music, I’m all in. John wrote the soundtrack of my formative years. I wrote this in fond memory of him using only his titles.
John’s Wisdom
By Nancy White
Well, well, well…
It’s so hard,
Just like starting over.
Surprise, surprise!
Nobody told me—
I found out watching the wheels,
I don’t want to face it—isolation.
Look at me.
Just give me some truth.
You are here,
Give peace a chance.
Stand by me,
Come together.
Remember real love?
We’re all water, scared,
Crippled inside.
Oh, my love—
Starting over!
I’m moving on!
I’m stepping out!
Imagine.
Nancy, your poem is gorgeous. What a wonderful tribute to John Lennon. I especially love how you ended the poem with “Imagine”, such a powerful song. Your poem is sheer genius!
Nancy — I love that you chose song titles for your poems. After all, poetry really is music!
Nancy, I love how the titles you chose work together. I especially like the last stanza. Imagine is one of my favorite songs. I remember I was in college when we found out about John Lennon’s death. When I came home from class my room mate, who was more of fan than I was, was crying watching about it on TV. We were both devastated.
Nancy, making these prompts your own is part of the creative process and allows our writing days to grow and become organically. I’m appreciating the revisit to John’s songs in your piece today. And I love the bookending of John’s wisdom and imagine two concepts that seem opposed by are really very similar.
Imagine! <3 Wow. I love this poem so much. Thank you for bringing this beautiful writing to us.
Thank you for this prompt. My library of poetry is small and mainly filled with art books which was what I taught for years. Anyway, this came to me while searching and I thought it was funny. I will do another more serious title poem later.
It has been twenty years since we lost one of our talented Beatles. I thought this was time for a tribute to his creative mind.
The Letter
Alec Speaking
I Sat Belonely
I Remember Arnold
On This Churly Morn
I Wandered
Deaf Ted, Denoota (and me)
You Might Well Arsk
A Letter
from Liddy Pool
to The Moldy Moldy Man
On Safairy
(titles from In His Own Write by John Lennon)
Oh! How funny out of all the writers in the world we chose the same one! We must be related!
Susan, I would love to learn more about your art life. We welcome and need “funny” in these spaces — no need for more serious unless you’d like to go there, be there today!
Sarah
Hello Sarah, Thanks for asking. I have a website that explains a lot. It is http://www.osbornart.com
Susan, I’m so glad you shared the funny with us today. We need more of that. I love all the play with language here, the churly morn, the safairy. I just spent time writing poetry from art yesterday. We might meet again in that space in a future prompt! I’m hoping so as I’d love to be inspired by your art.
My poem comes from the book Love From The Vortex by Yolanda Sealey-Ruiz. My own words are italicized.
A Poem for Young Lovers
We Were Children
Falling into imaginary love
The Appearance of You
A Gift From The Universe
But I, too young to listen
When Words Fail
Spread Love, Quiet Tricks, A Hearty Meal
But you, too young to learn
Hard Love
Just Us, Strength, Full Presence
We Were Children
Growing into adult bodies
A Goodbye in The Making
The Lesson, Life, Love
But we, too broken to repair
Insomnia
Struggles, Mixed Emotions, (Un)Commitment
And we move on and out
Bliss in Flight
A Moment of Remembering What Liberation Feels Like, This Moment, Follow the Sun
© Stacey L. Joy, 2020
Stacey,
This is lovely and makes me think of “Ode In a Grecian Urn” w/ those young lovers chasing one another. Now I have another collection to add to my TBR. Favorite lines:
?Glenda
Stacey, I love the flow of this poem. I can feel the emotional struggles throughout this poem. The image of learning love the hard way; the sense of growing up too fast. I really liked your line: “But we, too broken to repair”. Yet, the end shows hope with “Follow the Sun”. I also really admire how you showed the reader which words were yours and which were the titles, I wish I could go back and steal your format. Very powerful poem!
Stacey! I so love Yolanda Sealey-Ruiz and deeply appreciate your voice and hers intertwined in this poem. “growing into adult bodies” strikes me particularly because of the contrast from children to adults in this line without space or time to get there. It is abrupt and get Sealy-Ruiz tells us the struggle, the remembering as we follow the sun is part of it. I want to know what liberation feels like, I want to see it experienced, lived.
Oh, this poem!
Sarah
Stacey, you’ve woven your own beautiful words into those of the poet. I read this all the way through as written, and then again, with just your words, which caused me to hear a story differently (fascinating!). The separate “But I, But you, But we” phrases show separation immediately until the joining of “and we.” This is such a contrast to the story of the entire piece.
Wow, Stacey! My favorite lines are in your second stanza, We Were Children
Growing into adult bodies A Goodbye in The Making The Lesson, Life, Love
But we, too broken to repair.”
Stacey — You sure did find a cohesive love poem here! WOW! The whole coming of age in love is so on target. We were children… yes… growing into… yes. I like the trajectory of your poem… it takes us on an honest ride in the love wagon… “we move on and out.” My favorite is “remembering what liberation feels like.” That’s way too honest! LOL! Hope your son is on the other side C-19 now. Sending love. Susie
Hi Susie, thank you for the love and for thinking about my son. He’s indeed on the other side. He was able to go for a workout for the first time in 3 weeks.
Stacey, what a beautiful encapsulation of the trials and ultimate gifts of relationships that have ended. I love the way you’ve woven the title in with your own words. Those last five lines lift me up!
oooooh. I don’t know this poet but I think I need to. What a great sad story in this…I love the last line, “Follow the Sun.”
Wow, Stacey, what a poignant telling of love and life lessons learned. This beginning:
It is truth for so many relationships. Would that we and future young people could learn from this poetry gift, this light, as Sarah called it today.
On the subject of poetry,
Whenever I go there,
Travelling west at night,
I make a toast
To the dust of the road,
To lingering regrets,
The mistakes,
Something I’ve not done.
Some last questions.
A last look.
Just now,
A night fragrance.
Another dream of burial.
(Title poetry from W.S. Merwin)
*Jennifer, thank you for this fun idea. It truly was a gift to revisit some of my favorite poems by a poet I admire.
Shaun, wow, this is a gift! Beautiful choices and such a loving tribute to poetry! Thank you. My favorite lines:
☺️Stacey
Okay, I found these lines to move me, too, Stacey and Shaun. I copied them to share here and saw you did the same, Stacey. What is it about these lines — the graciousness of toasting dust, of toasting regret? I think so.
Sarah
Oh, that last line “Another team of burial” sums up the whole poem to be about the end of life and the things not done. “A toast to the dust of the road…” Thanks for this expressive sentiment.
Shaun, the idea of toasting the dust, and finding the regrets and mistakes, the last questions and last look, and offering it as the dream of burial is powerful stuff. I feel as if I journeyed with you and W.S. Merwin through a lifetime or a year in this piece, and there’s the leaving behind and the toasting of what is to come.
Shaun –This is beautiful. Your choice in titles have a wonderful rhythm and paint such a vivid picture.
Shaun, nice job. My favorite lines are “I make a toast
To the dust of the road,
To lingering regrets,
The mistakes.”
Well, Shaun, you should have no regrets today about the clever way you’ve woven words for us today
To lingering regrets,
The mistakes,
Something I’ve not done.
Shaun, Well done! Thank you for collecting these titles in such a way as to give discourse “On the subject of poetry.” I haven’t delved into Merwin as I should (although I love his “Why Some People Do Not Read Poetry”), so your poem will prove a guide for me. Thanks for this!
Absolutely beautiful. What a wonderful poet to draw from…what a nice visit with an old friend.
Love this twist on book spine poetry, Jennifer. Thank you for a fun prompt.
My inspiration comes from Richard Blanco’s brilliant collection “How to Love a Country.”
A History Lesson
What do you miss most
In this dystopian year?
Seeing El Americano
in the Mirror while
Seditious pols build a
Dreaming Wall.
Using country in a sentence
Now without me
I wonder
How to love a country
Where Imaginary exile
This Election year
Fits into our
Declaration of Inter-Dependence.
Let’s remake America great and
Sing a new American Wandersong.
—Glenda Funk
Oh, boy! I love this poem, Glenda. Yes, Let’s remake America great!
Beautifully done.
Glenda!!! Brilliant! Lord knows we need a remake and rebuild soon!
Thank you for sharing this gift!
?Stacey
Glenda, I love the challenge within this poem. Your closing lines are so brilliant….yes, “Let’s remake America great”! Hopefully we can begin a new “Wandersong”! I especially like how thought-provoking your line: “How to love a country” is…brilliant!
Oh, Glenda, I am in these lines of “I wonder/How to love a country” and I am not sure that I have it in me. In fact, I am struggling to love right now, to give it, to accept it. This community does remind me that it is possible, but, gosh, we do need a new Wandersong, don’t we!
Sarah
Glenda, I’m intrigued by the idea of the seditious pols building a Dreaming Wall and the contrast between that wall and the Dreamers who arrive. We are in desperate need of an American Wandersong – what a lovely way to invite us to remake America.
Glenda, your line “Is this dystopian year?” is perfect. I keep thinking we’re all in a sci-fi novel or book. I like how your last two lines wrap up your poem in positivity.
I have enjoyed Richard Blanco’s poetry very much; his poetry titles are such a great muse for this poem! I keep re-reading these three lines:
It is an election year beyond my imagination. We desperately need a new American Wandersong. Thanks, Glenda!
Glenda — This is so well crafted. I really like the message… the Declaration of Inter-Dependence — indeed! I’m all for the new “wandersong”! Dystopian… for sure, this is the year from hell. I’ve had real problems trying to redefine America in my mind. Our country is so not what I had thought… dream… ha… not so dreamy. I appreciate the provocative tone of your poem so much. Susie
Glenda, These lines speak to and challenge me,
“Declaration of Inter-Dependence”
We have much to do to remake our country and recognizing our inter-dependency is the key to our relationships at home and abroad!
Wow! Three carefully chosen words. So powerful!
This is so fun…to see so many responses with different poets. You have such a theme and tone here. Richard Blanco is perfect for “Sing a new American Wandersong.” Wow. You really arranged a great poem.
Thank you, Jennifer! Such a wonderful way to wander into words this morning. Precious gifts awaited me as soon as I opened this prompt. I love Tracy K. Smith’s poems and you wrote a phenomenal piece with the choices you made. The opening resonated with me, giving me hope this morning:
Appreciating this day, our 5 days together, and YOU!
❤️
Thank you, Stacey. We are glad you are here celebrating words with us!
Jennifer, what a lovely diversion I had today spending time with Emily Dickinson. I cheated a bit since she doesn’t use titles. I took first lines of her poem and didn’t add any of my own words. It was really a gift to me today to read and use Emily’s words.
Thanks so much for your poems. The second reached deep into me. I am here shouting “My God, It’s Full of Stars” to the universe with primal screams. Oh, my goodness!
So much of Heaven has gone from earth
Faith is the Pierless Bridge
When I count the seeds
I had no time to Hate
You taught me waiting with myself
The way Hope builds his House
By such and such an offering
We pray–to Heaven
I see thee clearer for the Grave
The feet of people walking home
Trudging to Eden–looking backward
Heaven–is what I cannot reach!
There is a Word
As subtle as tomorrow–
Oh, what a grace is this–
That love is all there is
Who has not found the Heaven below
I shall keep singing
Denise,
Emily never fails us. My favorite lines are
because they remind me how powerful nature is to heal our souls.
?Glenda
These lines resonated with me, too, Denise and Glenda. I read this after reading yours, Glenda, and am thinking about how to love again and it seems that the answer is in this counting, “I count the seeds.”
Sarah
What a gift, Denise! Oh how I love:
Seems this waiting with ourselves has become a necessary normal. Your poem and Emily’s words breathe hope into all!
?Stacey
Denise, these types of found poems allow for all kinds of creative approaches. I believe Emily would have loved your use of her first lines. These words resonate with me today (I want to keep singing them!):
Denise –Emily is definitely one of my favs, and I love the lines you have selected to create this powerful poem and relevant poem.
Wow, Denise, one can never go wrong with Emily Dickinson! Your lines that Glenda, Sarah, and Stacey shared resonated with me, also. But I think my favorite lines are what Jennifer also resonated with
There is a Word
As subtle as tomorrow–
Oh, what a grace is this–
That love is all there is.
Your choices of lines flowed so well together!
So many beautiful words from Emily Dickinson! I love this stanza:
Yes, love is all there is.
Jennifer, what a wonderful inspiration you have provided us with. Unlimited options. I will be doing this type of poem more than once. With Taylor Swift’s new album coming out a few days ago, she’s on my mind. And, yes, she’s a poet. I have shared her with our two daughters since “Tim McGraw” came out in 2006. We’ve been to 12 concerts and her songs have been the soundtrack of many events, many discussions, many memories. So, I went with her song titles as the titles to work into this poem, which is very much a work in progress. I know it’s hokey, but I think our daughters will like it in all its corny glory. Feedback welcomed since I plan to polish it and give it to them for Christmas. Thanks, Jennifer!!
Evermore
Aged nine and aged Seven
Your first concert
June 7, 2007
Not just any concert.
Taylor. TSwift. TayTay.
Opening act for Brad Paisley
I knew you two would love her.
I did, too.
You were Innocent
and so was she.
I knew her music
would help you find
Your Place in This World.
These moments
were Ours
filled with Happiness.
The Moment I Knew
her music was common ground
for us,
I embraced it.
Every concert tour,
I would hover at the computer,
Fearless,
fan club access code in hand
and purchase the best tickets available.
(within reason).
Dad has no clue the amount spent
12 times.
A semester of college
could have been paid for.
Instead, that sum
purchased priceless memories.
She grew up and
so did you.
You hit Fifteen.
I wanted you to
Never Grow Up,
but at least these concerts
provided us so much.
Even though I would feel that
You Belong with Me,
you were no longer just a
Girl at Home.
It was time to
spread your wings.
College time.
Were you Ready for It?
The chance
to Begin Again
(complete with opportunities
to “break and burn and end”).
Involvement and friendship
and learning.
Growing.
Sharing ADPi,
different campuses
different vibes
but you found your people
never Mean
always uplifting.
The Taylor Swift year as it has become known
22
Each of you hitting it two years apart.
Women now
strong
fierce
grounded
loving.
You know when to
Speak Now
and when to Shake It Off
Your careers starting
and so is adulting.
I’d love for you to
Come Back . . . Be Here,
but it’s your life
to blaze your own trail.
Each of you experienced
your own versions of
Love Story.
Some that failed,
some that helped you grow.
some over,
some still budding.
Who will be The Lucky One
to win each of you
and join our dynamic.
our Wonderland?
Everything Has Changed
yet nothing has.
We still talk and text and hang out
shopping and eating and taking trips
My personal favorite was when
we were Welcome(d) to New York.
Holidays, always special,
the 4th, Thanksgiving, and of course
looking forward to being
Back to December.
Blessed beyond my Wildest Dreams,
the best part of my life
is that you are Mine.
But yet you’re yours
and the world’s.
Our hearts, connected
by an Invisible String,
get each other.
Love and acceptance
through occasional annoyance.
Day after day
Year after year
I have The Best Day
with you
time and time again.
I know All Too Well
that someday
when I am gone
you will cherish the little
things,
the seemingly insignificant
moments we have shared.
Long Story Short,
we are bound forever
by genes
by love
by mutual respect
and I will forever
live in Peace knowing
there will never be Bad Blood
between you.
There is a place between my heart and belly
that gets swirling and twirling–
a combination of love and longing
of wistfulness and sadness
of gratitude and deep inexplicable love–
at times.
When I see Taylor, hear her songs,
that place goes crazy
and the longing for your childhood
and the gratitude for who you have become
have a boxing match.
Mine own blossoming gets
hearkened while I watch
and recall yours.
Who would think a superstar musician
could mean so much?
Crossing generations
Melding them
Our trio relating to
her words.
Evermore.
What a sweet hokey surprise for them! (I don’t think it’s really hokey, just using your word) Clever idea to use Taylor’s titles and write this narrative of your shared loved for her and her music. Lovely tribute to her and your sweet relationship with your girls.
Susan,
I’m a TS fan and love her new album. My favorite song is “Marjorie.” You’ve inspired me. I have a friend who is very young and also a TS Dan. Your poem has me thinking about composing a TS title poem and juxtaposing it onto an image of TS which I’ll frame. I’m sure your daughters will love this tribute and the shared memories it embodies.
Glenda
Susan, what a beautiful gift from you to your daughters. You’re gifting them not only with your memories together but also your words and love (as you are bound together). I have only heard a bit of Taylor’s new album but all great things!
Susan, what an amazing gift this will be! I resonate with your poem because my girls and I used to sing Taylor Swift’s songs together, also. I especially like your stanza with Love Story, The Lucky One, and Wonderland.
I am in awe of Lucille Clifton; every one of her poems is a gift. This was intimidating for me, to create a poem from her titles; I found I didn’t need a single word of my own:
if I stand in my window
i agree with the leaves
some dreams hang in the air
listen children
the mystery that surely is present
the lesson of the falling leaves
i am not done yet
Maureen, what a sweet gentle poem. I love the living leaves in your poem. I need to listen to the lesson of the falling leaves and learn…”i am not done yet”
Beautiful!
Maureen, this is fabulous! I think my favorite part is the ending – knowing that there is more to come! “Some dreams hang in the air” is a beautiful image.
Beautiful in it’s simplicity and that the titles alone say it all.
Maureen,
This is a spectacular poem. I need more Lucille Clifton poems in my fife. I don’t know which line I like best, but I do love the emphatic “i am not done.” That should be every woman’s mantra.
?Glenda
Maureen! This is exquisite! You have captured so much meaning within the placement of these titles. I love how you worked the image of the leaves within two lines. There’s so much hope in the end and in the dreams hanging in the air.
Maureen, I never have heard of Lucille Clifton. Thank you, for your poem. I will have to look her up because the titles you chose resonate with me. All the titles you chose flow so well together and I can’t seem to choose a favorite. Your last line, “i am not done yet” makes me want to read more.
I spent a delightful hour reading and playing with the titles of WB Yeats’s poetry. It was like visiting an old friend. What a wonderful way to spend time on this gray December day – a gift in and of itself. Yeats has so many titles that I challenged myself to use only his words.
A Prayer For My Son
Sweet Dancer
Are you Content
Among School Children
What then?
Vacillation.
The Moods.
The Lover’s Song –
The Sorrow of Love.
Beautiful Lofty Things;
Broken Dreams.
Ephemera, Fragments…
Remorse for Intemperate Speech.
Friends, Words, The Hour Before Dawn.
The Coming of Wisdom with Time
Presences, Results of Thought
The Falling Leaves
Memory
Peace
To [Your] Heart, Bidding It Have No Fears.
Amanda, this poem can’t possibly be composed with titles of Yeats’ poems, flowing as a poem, unique and organic, as its own work from your heart. Mind-blowing beauty! The final stanza speaks to your son with a kind gentle spirit. Thank you, this gift is precious!
Amanda, your placement of Yeats’s words sings this morning and the choices to break the titles into these stanzas allows us to see you address your son in this prayer, in the first, and sign off at the end. Beautifully done. I’m glad this prompt brought you a delightful hour today.
Amanda, this gift of words is divine! It flows beautifully and carries sweet and bitter messages as acceptance of the gift of life!
This poem of Yeats titles is so filled with a mother’s love. It is filled with the melancholy and compassion that we feel as we let our children go. So moving.
Amanda,
I love Yeats’s poetry. We were able to visit some of his haunts in Ireland a couple years ago. I love the question-answer format you use in your poem. These are my favorite lines:
?Glenda
Oh, that last stanza is so lovely. The narrowing down to peace…perfect.
The Impotence of Proofreading, What Teachers Make
Sleazy Street
proves Not the intended path.
Jail or Prison
Sounds Not at all like Yale or Princeton.
English clash?
A vibration caught by some and not others.
I am One of those
Who can “Teach” AND “Do.”
I choose what I make:
Time, questions, and apologies.
They never walk away
Empty-handed,
Equipped with thoughts,
More questions,
And respect for themselves
And each other.
What do I make?
A difference.
(Title poems by Taylor Mali)
Jolie, Taylor Mali is a favorite and I appreciate spending more time with him through your writing today. I love the title of this – the play on proofreading. We make such a strong difference through our teaching and doing. Thanks for this reminder today!
So great to choose a poet and educator! This is an ode to teaching well. I like these lines especially:
Jolie,
Such powerful words we all need to hear – that we make a difference. I love Taylor Mali – his metaphor dice always get my brain contorting to imagine how something is like something else! Lovely words today!
Jennifer! First, I am so happy to be back together today. It feels like much more than a month, and I have missed my Ethical ELA friends. What a joy to wake up to the site today to see familiar names and verses. Indeed, a gift. I hadn’t realized how lonesome I have been — no longer am. Thank you.
And thank you for this opportunity to pick up a book that I ordered last month but have not read until this morning, Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz. It was a finalist for the National Book Award: https://www.graywolfpress.org/books/postcolonial-love-poem. Her titles are in italics. I have not tried to capture the themes of her poems as they are hers, but I have borrowed her titles to help me think about light today.
Blood-Light, a knife to
open a body to the stars
not to let light in but
to let light out
to bleed light
These Hands, If Not Gods
open the body to
release harm to
reveal space
welcoming faith
Catching Copper, a jacket to
carry the heat, to
wire electricity not
as a bullet but a
current flow, a balm
Ink-Light, a pen to
open the body to the stars
not to let light in but
to let light out
in words, in verse.
Sarah, I love how you eloquently describe poetry as letting light out in words, as a balm, and as a welcoming faith. I’m intrigued by these titles and want to pick up Natalie Diaz for myself. Thanks for sharing with the rest of us.
Good morning, Sarah! I, too, am grateful for this day to be back with our friends, giving gifts of words. You have a way with rhythm, flow, word choices, and topics in your poetry that I yearn to learn. I am whole heart and soul in love with these lines and will keep them close throughout the upcoming holiday season when traditions have to be broken and I risk feeling lost. I can use Ink-Light to let light out when I feel alone:
???
Oh, Sarah! I tried to read past the first five lines (and eventually did), but my mind kept returning to them, wanting to spend time with them, to immerse in the light released in the words. You have welcomed us with this Blood-Light today even as the poem lets light out. Beautiful.
I love how you wove in your own words to create this precious poem about light…I especially love
A beautiful tribute to poetry writing!
Sarah, your metaphors are stunning – I love your interplay with the titles and your own personal words to describe them. This one is my favorite:
ink-Light, a pen to
open the body to the stars
not to let light in but
to let light out
in words, in verse.
Oh, what a beautiful image that is!
Sarah,
Your poem is light. I love “Post-Colonial Love poem” and was surprised when it didn’t win the NBA. My favorite lines in your reimagining of these titles is
Cheers to the light poetry opens us to.
Glenda
Sarah,wow, your poem is so beautiful. I love the imagery of letting the harm out; letting light out. The metaphor of the pen is simply amazing! The dichotomy of painful and soothing senses is especially powerful. Absolutely adore your poem!
Oh, my….to bleed light. Let’s just stay with that line for a while.
Sarah, like you, I have been looking forward to being with these friends for verse love. With our Blood-Light and Ink-Light we will write and open ourselves to the stars, receiving a balm for wounds that we know not of.
As readers, though, we get the benefit of others’ light coming into us! Bless you for this poem.
Two of my favorite poets. I love how your poems read seamlessly. What a fun thing to try on this dreary December morning. I reached for Barbara Crooker’s book Some Glad Morning and found this:
Waiting for a New Year
Home Cooking
Fifteen Bean Soup
with Saltines on the side,
Mom’s Recipe
Mid November
when Regret seeps in.
I practice Mindfulness
breathing to release this Pinched Nerve Melancholia.
Absence takes Residency.
Perhaps The New Year
will bring Peaches in August.
*titles from Barbara Crooker, Some Glad Morning
Margaret,
So many touch points here – when regret seeps in, pinched nerve melancholia, absence takes residency – the mood is definitely that dampened 2020 holiday spirit feeling, and you give us hope for a brighter 2021! Love this!
This is wonderful! I love how the making of the soup, mother’s recipe and the regret all becomes part of mindfulness. Absolutely stunning study and creative arrangement of these poem titles.
Margaret, I love the connection with seasons and food, especially the Saltine cracker. I love the ones with olive oil and spice. Time ticks by so quickly (or slowly for those who are lonely). The regret and pinched-nerve Melancholia highlights its ache.. I long for the peaches in August. Thanks for sharing.
Oh, that ending! This poem speaks to me through food. The images it conjures feel immediate – and now I want to read Some Glad Morning. Thank you.
Margaret, I gasped at that ending. What a beautiful use of titles. This not only reads like “comfort food” for my soul this morning, but I feel as if I’ve been invited into a gift your mother left for you in her soup recipe. Her loss is at this meal but so is the love between you. Thank you.
Thanks, Jennifer. My mother is living. She and my father live in a retirement home that has been locked down for too long. I only see them through a screen. I miss our holidays together. I am grateful for their health and safety, though.
You have introduced me to a new poet; what a beautiful and sad poem, reflecting on this pandemic year, this year of pain. What joy awaits – Peaches in August!
Jennifer, I was jumping out of bed to write to this prompt this morning! You know Mary O is one of my best friends – I can never get enough of her writing! What a fun way to light our creative fires this morning. I’ve gone off the grid to uncharted territory and done a thing I never saw myself doing – I picked up a dang Harlequin Romance series all because I got drugged by Robyn Carr. I used the series titles in each line of my verse today (all 21 but not in sequence).
A Virgin River Christmas
‘Tis the Season on Netflix
Virgin River: ALL THE RAGE!
My Kind of Christmas:
lusty indulgences of Forbidden Falls
a Hidden Summit of thrills!
out by the Whispering Rock
under the Harvest Moon
on the Moonlight Road
to Temptation Ridge
ripe for a Moonlight Kiss
I read on in this Paradise Valley
down along Redwood Bend
along the banks of Wild Man Creek
to the depths of Promise Canyon
up Shelter Mountain
over Second Chance Pass
scaling onward beyond Angel’s Peak
to the climax of Sunrise Point
That Holiday Feeling rising like the sun
all day waiting to Return to Virgin River
Bring Me Home for Christmas –
a Virgin River Christmas!
Kim, your poem had me laughing out loud as a tried to read your lines in a semi-serious whisper romance voice. I giggled as I created a visual map in my head. What a journey!
Yes!!!!! Such a guilty pleasure that show, those books. Hahahahahaha. I love the titles woven into a journey home. I’m laughing but seeing the serious crafting too. Well done.
I started the new season of Virgin River. The bad acting kind of gets to me, though. Your poem is the opposite of bad acting. You’ve created a romantic slide into a Christmas to celebrate.
This piece is so crafty. I’m intrigued by each line, wanting to read/watch the texts. I watched Season 1 of Virgin River, but I haven’t started Season 2. Thanks for the push. I love how all of the titles vividly lead the reader on a journey—full of imagery. Awesome!
I smiling all the way through this journey over the rivers and through the woods of romance that you have captured here. I am smiling and blush as I “Return to Virgin River” — the repetition of “Virgin” has my cheeks warm:)
So fun, and such a gift of joy you are, Kim!
Sarah
Oh my! This made me laugh. What a fun way to start the day – and all 21 titles. Amazing!
This is delightful – my smile got bigger and bigger as I read! Fabulous!
Kim, I’m glad you had some fun with this. It certainly made me smile. And you might even find a career in writing pitches for romance novels! You wrangled every one of those 21 titles into a wild journey and we travelled right along with you!
I love the way the titles move through space on this wild, Harlequin adventure. I didn’t want it to end!
Kim,
This is fun. There are some Netflix series that make me think: Is this the fare of the Hallmark channel, which I never watch. Yet we need these guilty pleasures sometimes, right? My favorite lines are those taking us on a reading journey:
Clever poem. I can’t stop smiling!
—Glenda
This is fantastic!
Well this is a fun rabbit hole! Jennifer, I love this prompt. Mary Oliver and Tracy K. Smith were exceptional poets to choose titles from. I had a few pages of titles copy & pasted to look over when another idea came running to interrupt! Such is the life of a teacher. I will play with those other titles too…but these were a little more fun and playful.
1.
One for Sorrow
Poor Mary
When the Boats Come In
Green grow the rushes
Rain, Rain Go Away
Needles and Pins
***********
2. Sur le Pont d’Avignon
Star Light, Star Bright
The Moon has Arisen
How Many Miles to Babylon?
All from nursery rhymes….way too fun! And, with nursery rhyme titles, I think kids could do this.
Linda, how clever to use Nursery Rhyme titles! Your line Sur le Pont D’Avignon has me singing it to the tune back in my days at St. Simons Elementary School.
What a great take on the prompt! I adore your idea of having kids do this with nursery rhymes. So ambitious for so early in the morning!
I love how you picked Nursery Rhymes. I will definitely do this with kids.
Linda,
This has me enjoying the images and rhythm while filling in the white space around and between these lines — but not too much reading between the lines so as to keep the whimsy center! Love it.
Sarah
Nursery rhymes! Great idea! And your suggestion that kids could do this makes me think of my seniors. We haven’t done book spine poetry yet… maybe we’ll do title poetry instead.
Linda, I often find myself starting one piece and discovering something new part way through. I’m so glad you did today (especially as you likely have another piece tempting you to return to it too). I am grateful to return to these nursery rhymes today. I can hear the French words in the voice of our elective teacher who sings this with the students in my room. And what a clever way to invite students into this prompt – through their childhood. I love your take on this today.
Great idea for creating “found” poetry. I may have students browse the titles of a textbook and mash them together in some meaningful way. As soon as I got to “Rain, Rain Go Away” I was transported to the land of nursery rhymes – very whimsical!
Linda,
Using nursery rhymes is a brilliant idea. I love the idea of having young children try this approach.
-Glenda
What amazing poems built from nursery rhymes! I love the first one with it’s simple but dramatic flair.
Thank you, Jennifer! This was a fun way to start the day.
I can write the saddest verses
There’s no forgetting
Climb up with me
Body of woman
I explain something
It means shadows
I like you when you’re quiet
I don’t love you as if you were a rose
Full woman, carnal apple
Oneness
Down through the blurred splendor
Ars Poetica
(Con muchísimas gracias a Pablo Neruda)
Mo, I found myself reading these as paired lined (you’ve paired them beautifully). I’m especially drawn to “I explain something/It means shadows.” And the following two lines make comment on the thread of woman you’ve woven here. Carnal apple – wow! Ars Poetica indeed!
Wow! This is beautiful. You have a whole poem from titles about a real woman…it’s even got some romance. Bravo!
Mo,
I’m laughing at your humor in I like you when you’re quiet! Then two lines later Full woman, carnal apple. This screams womanhood at its finest and most truthful!!
“Climb up with me/ Body of woman” is so evocative. I love how you structured this.
The pairing of lines here had me reading this again and again. “Climb up with me/ Body of woman” and “Full woman, carnal apple/ Oneness” both made me pause, take a deep breath and let the images take me. And now, I must go read some Neruda. It has been too long.
This is great – my favorite line “I like you when you’re quiet” – made me laugh out loud. That’s one aspect of Neruda I love – his brutal honesty. Thanks for sharing!
Mo,
I love every title you’ve selected here. Yes! Ars Poetica. So beautiful.
—Glenda