Today’s writing inspiration comes from Mo Daley. Mo has taught preschool through high school, ELA, Spanish, and reading. She’s found her passion as a middle school reading specialist in Homewood, IL. She loves designing and making Little Free Libraries and is a strong supporter of the Literacy Empowerment Action Program #LEAPforGhana. Mo has presented on Engaging the Naysayers in Your Middle School Classroom at the Illinois Reading Conference and at nErDcampMI. She blogs sporadically at Mo’s Literacy Adventures.
Inspiration
All of us make lists, right? Grocery lists, to-do lists, playlists, top-ten lists, lists of goals, and so on. Some lists are more insightful than others. Kwame Alexander’s poem, “Ten Reasons Why Fathers Cry at Night” offers us a peek into his mind as he struggles with his daughter growing up.
Process
Here are paraphrased instruction on how to write a list poem from Alexander’s book The Write Thing. Choose a topic based on your experiences or interests. Don’t worry about rhyme or rhythm, just focus on the message. Start your poem with lines that establish a context and end it by focusing on a significant idea that either brings closure or conveys a lesson.
Kwame’s Poem
“Ten Reasons Fathers Cry at Night”
Because fifteen-year-olds don’t like
park swings or long walks anymore
unless you’re in the mall.
Because holding her hand is
forbidden and kisses are lethal.
Because school was “fine,” her day
was “fine,” and yes, she’s “fine.” (So
why is she weeping?)
Because you want to help, but you
can’t read minds.
Because she is in love and that’s
cute, until you find his note asking
her to prove it.
Because she didn’t prove it.
Because next week she is in love
again and this time it’s real, she says
her heart is heavy.
Because she yearns to take long
walks in the park with him.
Because you remember the myriad
woes and wonders of spring desire.
Because with trepidation and
thrill you watch your daughter who
suddenly wants to swing all by herself.
Mo’s List Poem
“8 Reasons NOT to Grade Those Papers”
Dang it! My bag is in the car.
I left my favorite grading pen at school.
It’s Friday!
I have all weekend to read essays.
Doesn’t your sock drawer need organizing?
I need a nap.
Just a quick one, really.
I’m dying to finish this book.
I only have 153 pages left.
The latest season
of Stranger Things dropped today,
and let’s face it, it’s not going to watch itself!
Ooh! You got a bottle of that
Catena Zapata Malbec on sale?
We’re going to have to see if it’s as
muscular and silky as they say!
Post your writing any time today. If the prompt does not work for you today, that is fine– make-up your own prompt or a twist on this one. All writing is welcome. Please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Below are some suggestions for commenting with care. Oh, and a note about edits: The comment feature of this blog (and many blogs) does not permit edits. Since we are writing in short bursts, we all are understanding (and even welcome) the typos that remind us we are human.
Tightrope
I have a hole inside me nobody knows about
and they say, “Physician heal thyself.”
But I can’t make it heal.
It’s the greatest humiliation of my life.
Four years ago…my daughter died.
Four years ago..and I wonder a lot of times:
how many adults
how many children
dogs and cats
rivers and streams
and other species
have died
in the last four years?
Did anybody grieve themselves to death over them?
Has anybody grieved themselves to death over them?
Except the way I have.
I’m like the walking dead
to anyone whole
or healthy.
They look at me like it’s a meaness.
A smallness.
Evil.
If the world is a tightrope, then the cardinal rule is–
you never look down.
Why can’t I stop looking down?
Why is that?
—Manny Garces
THE DOCTOR IS IN AKA 7 REASONS I SHOULD TEACH DOCTOR WHO THIS YEAR.
Because being labeled a geek in high school was hard
but now, I’m in charge and being a geek is cool.
Because I love not knowing…it keeps me on my toes said no teacher ever,
but if the Doctor can do it, then I can too.
Because time is wibbly-wobbly and
my students are few. Blink and I’ll miss my chance.
Because we’re all capable of the most incredible change
but they might not get there without me.
Because the universe is vast, complicated, and ridiculous,
but so are teens.
Because episodes like “The Fires of Pompeii” make me
recontemplate the humanity of my students.
They aren’t the monsters hidden away in Vesuvius.
They’re the ones worth saving.
Because
Brilliant.
Fantastic.
Allons-y
&
Geronimo
are words I might not ever hear from the mouths of my students
and that’s the burden of a teacher.
Feeling like you’re the only one left.
But the Doctor is and always will be the optimist, the hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improblable dreams.
And so am I.
12 Reasons to Stay Home for a While…Okay 3
To hear what or how many fictional or imaginary characters my son will be today.
To be my daughter’s patient for a “ketchup” as many times as she needs to hone her doctor skills.
To catch all the sleep smiles of my baby.
Because English students require more sleep than a baby allows.
Because I started to cut corners when squares would have been better than circles, and I knew it.
Because I realized I could no longer do everything or rather wasn’t doing everything I thought I was.
To have more of a relationship with my baby instead of my pump.
To know the reason why my daughter’s knees are scraped instead of hearing the story.
To be the one to answer why we have belly buttons, why pineapples have their name, why boy undies have a cool flap-pocket, etc.
Because I still love teaching and don’t want to lose that love entirely.
Because the paper load was crowding into my kids’ lap space.
Because it’s the right choice for us, and I’m okay with that.
I love the depth of emotion in your writing and the tension between the two spaces of teaching and motherhood!
I swear I wrote this yesterday 😉
Reasons Not to Visit Home
Pack. Check-in to flight. I leave town tonight.
No sleep for me as I prepare for this bittersweet journey
From West coast to midwest; from plane to plains.
From temperate to humid; predictable to unpredictable; ocean to seas of soybeans
My little brother looks the same as he did 8 months ago: big smile, brown hair
(the Master’s degree is new)
Reuniting with my sisters reminds me of who I am, who I was, and who I will be.
Mom and Dad hug me the tightest, loosening any anxieties.
Cake, 26 candles, ice cream, sunshine, and gifts. We all do the dishes in shifts.
SPF 50, bug spray, rocky shores, and melty s’ mores
Remember-whens, books, card games, and campfire flames
I never want these nights to end.
But they do.
And I have to say good-bye.
A night of dancing, cake-eating, and vow-listening
Conversing across tables, across state lines, across years
Missing what used to be
Surrounded by university memories
I never want this night to end
But it did.
And I have to say good-bye.
Again.
Filled with new memories, unsurmountable love, and heavy nostalgia,
I watched the sunrise over Iowan plains and the sunset behind the coastal mountain range.
After two flights across the country and cornfields upon cornfields of driving,
Lugging luggage up three flights is a Sisyphean task
Suitcase guts are scattered throughout the two-bedroom apartment
Going back reminds me of all the reasons I should stay.
Beautiful imagery and emotions! I love the rhyme and rhythm you create, and I kept finding myself smiling as I read this, thinking of my own home.
“10 Reasons to Smile”
Because you are the constant in many of their lives.
Because you are a role model.
Because I’ve never wanted to talk to a person with a scowl.
Because moods are contagious.
Because someone around you might be upset.
Because you have to break the cycle.
Because there’s always too much coldness in the world.
Because there’s never enough kindness in the world.
Because you never know who needs it.
Because you never know when you need to see one.
Greg – Totally words to live by! Smiles definitely carry power. That you can “break the cycle” in Sonia’s simple as a smile gives us hope —its so easy and yet so many folks are bamboozled by freely given smiles. Keep smiling. Susie
Smile. It’s easy to do and straight to the point. Thank you for sharing.
Things I Won’t Miss
Waking up to the alarm at 5:00 a.m.
Catching the 6:17 or 6:27 train to school
Standing in a crowded subway car
Connecting to another train
Arriving 40 minutes early
Greeting staff members who don’t
return my “Good morning”
Taking down all thirty- two chairs
Turning on the desktop
to ensure internet service and
the Promethean Board are working
Going to the cafeteria to pick up
my first period class
Students ignoring me when I ask
them to line up in an orderly fashion
Students who are loquacious
Students who refuse to read during
time allotted for independent reading
Students who refuse to stop talking
when asked to stop talking
Students who want to showcase
their dancing and singing skills
instead of completing tasks
Students who can’t keep their hands
off other students
Students who arrive 5 minutes
before the end of class,
again and again and again
Students who tell me, “Don’t tell
me what to do,”
or “You are racist”
or ask “Why are you
always picking on me?”
“What are we doing?”
“What time is it?
“Mister, do you have a pencil?”
“Am I passing your class?”
Reminding students what the task is
again and again and again
Reminding students that I will
be collecting and grading their work
Reminding students that they owe
me a draft, a revised draft,
and a final draft, again and again
Reminding students to study for
an upcoming assessment
Reminding students to submit
trip permission slips
Attending IEP meetings
Attending another inquiry meeting
Attending another in-house PD
Attending another assembly
Attending another out-of-building
workshop that wasn’t productive
Attending another curriculum
planning/design meeting
Attending another meeting on data
Proctoring state exams
Proctoring the late schedule
Proctoring school-mandated exams
Proctoring BOY, MOY, and EOY
ASSessments
Providing data to show
why a student failed
Providing phone logs
Providing make-up work
Providing year-end packets
to students who completed
no work at all
Catching the 3:00 or 3:05 train home
Standing in a crowded subway car
Connecting to another train
Arriving home an hour later
Wow. Such honesty and truth in this verse. I feel the heaviness of the profession, and the emotion of all the hard we do face each day as teachers. But I also ask, what WILL you miss?
Things I Will Miss
Waking up to the alarm at 5:00 a.m.
Catching the 6:17 or 6:27 train to school
Sitting in a crowded subway car
Reading a work of fiction or poetry
Connecting to another train
Arriving 40 minutes early
Greeting staff members who
return my “Good morning”
Going to the cafeteria to pick up
my first period class
Students who run or walk briskly
to line up in an orderly fashion
Students who are not loquacious
Students who read during
time allotted for independent reading
Students who stop talking
when asked to stop talking
Students who do not showcase
their dancing and singing skills
instead of completing tasks
Students who keep their hands
off other students
Reminding students what the task is
again and again and again
Reminding students that I will
be collecting and grading their work
Reminding students that they owe
me a draft, a revised draft,
and a final draft, again and again
Reminding students to study for
an upcoming assessment
Reminding students to submit
trip permission slips
Catching the 3:00 or 3:05 train home
Sitting in a crowded subway car
Reading a work of fiction or poetry
Connecting to another train
And continuing to read
I feel every word. Teaching does this to us. We end up moving through space as if we are underwater.
10 Reasons to Become a Luddite
Because Moneygram has twice rejected your attempts to send money to your in-laws online but welcomes you to drive to any of their offices. Strange. They’ve never had a problem taking my money in the past…
Because you barely get cell service in your own home, and it’s even worse at work.
Because the printer never seems to have color ink when the fourteen-year-old needs to print, in color, for an assignment NOW!
Because the Keurig in your classroom still can’t produce a cup of coffee that compares with a stovetop moka pot.
Because the remote control isn’t working and you just replaced the batteries last week.
Because the garage door won’t close during the day since the shine is shining on the sensor and who wants to call a repairman to adjust a little sensor that you should be able to fix yourself…
Because Google Maps still gives you the wrong directions to the soccer field where you need to be and the game starts in five minutes and you’ve driven there before but never remember the directions…
Because the cheap Chinese refrigerator you bought your in-laws last year is broken and they need money to replace it.
Because Google Maps can’t find the nearest Moneygram office that is open and takes credit cards.
Because you wrote this poem on a yellow legal pad, but no one will ever read it unless you get on the computer and type it up…
Shaun,
So, so true. All of this (though I had to look up Luddite). The last line is just perfect — “on a yellow legal pad, but no one will ever read it unless.” This is, really, the reason I started this blog, and I am so glad you have resisted total luddite-ness to share this gem with us. Love the honesty and anaphora with the “because” at the start of each line. It gives the poem rhythm. and the allusions to all the technology — this has me wondering if we will know Keurig and Google Maps in ten years!
Sarah
Shaun – You made me chuckle at the reality of that “luddite-ness” that hovers over me at times. Fun. Susie
Back To School Nightmares aka BTSN
My friend posted that he’s still having nightmares
After 23 years teaching high school
I replied,
Every year for the last 35 years
Before returning to my classroom
My BTSNs devour my sleep
I’ve misplaced my classroom
I can’t talk when the students say hello
All the preparation is suddenly gone
My shoes are missing
I wore pajamas instead of my new clothes
A boy fights me and I hit him back
The principal decides to fire me
My lunch is rotten
My car is stolen
And I hear the alarm thinking I’ve found my car
But all I find is it’s time to wake up and haven’t ever
Gone to sleep
This is such a familiar dream for so many teachers. Only when I reached year 30 did the nightmares cease. It doesn’t help knowing I have worn clothing w/ tags showing and have arrived w/ my shirt on backwards, and have a colleague who had her car hidden by students. As long as you arrive clothed, all will be well!
Every. Darned, Year. This is a wonderful capsule of August reality.
Stacey — You have captured the boogieman that haunted me for years. That BTSN is very known to me…and I feel the last line tugging me still… the alarm (which I have refused to use since I’ve retired) that screams “you are exhausted and now you must go to school.” EEEEEEeeeeek! All those years of teaching and still I had those dreams. Not being prepared… so crazy, but so so real. Fun to read. Susie
This is a summary of every teacher dream I’ve had and continue to have. I like how it moves from trivial to serious in waves.
Oh. My. Gosh. So, so true. Love when poems ring true: “misplaced my classroom” and “shoes are missing” and “car is stolen.” The pronouns of “my” and “I” show how much teachers repress about themselves in the day because we are so focused on students. In our dreams, our brains unpack all that we held in so that we could be present for the kids. Teachers really do carry a lot of responsiblity. Alas, I hope none of this actually comes true this school year — though I predict I will attend class with two different boots sometime in January.
Same. At least yours have variety! Mine are always the same. (Kids are going nuts during an eval). I am usually screaming at them. Amazing how we do things in dreams we’d never do in real life! I’m glad to know I’m not alone, but I’m sad they never go away!
The back-to-school anxiety was something that I experienced for a long time, but for the past couple of years it didn’t affect me as much. Maybe it’s because I have taught for more than two decades. Maybe it’s because I was contemplating retirement. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t as invested in it anymore.
I completely get it. I have about 5 more years to go and I notice the nightmares are less dreadful, however still there. But today was a fantastic first day of school.
Everything about teaching—including our first day of school—is a test of will. Thank you for sharing.
[Note: I’m on the road, so this is pretty slap-dash, but my sense of why I leave St. Louis is foremost on my mind.]
WHY I MUST NOT STAY IN ST. LOUIS IN AUGUST
Sweating just pisses me off.
Ninety-eight percent humidity. Who counts after sixty?
Chiggers have already invaded all my soft spots
along my underwear lines…
what more can they want?
Boobs sweat every bit as badly as armpits.
Steamed garbage in my trash bins smell so…
so ripe.
Heat indices are sick and wrong.
Three showers a day is really, well, overkill,
but did I mention
sweat pisses me off?
And life on my bike in Wisconsin in 70 degrees
with a slab of cherry pie
is perfect.
by Susie Morice
Boobs sweat….what more could they want…..- slab of cherry pie. I love it all! Humor, truth,
Discomfort quieted by comforting cherry pie.
You write beautifully whether you are at home or off on an adventure!
Susie, this list captures my memories of Missouri perfectly. “Boob sweat every bit as much as armpits”! Yes, they do, and this image made me giggle. And don’t get me started on hair and makeup that slides off my face in that gawd awful humidity.
Your humor and your imagery made me laugh at 6 am. Thank you!
This poem can transport someone from anger to hopelessness to longing. When you wrote about being in Wisconsin, I could feel the relief from my own hot August days!
It’s not exactly what it’s supposed to be, but we moved our son to college today, so the weight of that was on my mind.
On Moving #3 to College
(Reasons it’s not any easier than moving #1 and #2)
I never get used to saying goodbye
For an hour, for an evening, for a day.
To relinquish “control,” the joysticking of his life
is not easy for me
To no longer have him watching TV,
playing video games, pondering the universe,
pining away for his girlfriend,
reading,
sleeping, not sleeping
in the room right below me
is unthinkable.
He’s 100 miles away.
100.
I don’t even like it when he’s 1.
I guess I have a heart inside my chest.
It’s still beating, pumping blood through my veins.
I’m still alive.
Yet, I feel like I just left my heart in Bowling Green
Just like I left one in Lexington
And one in Bloomington.
“To have a child is to have your heart walking outside your body”
I’m not claiming that brilliant saying,
but I don’t know who to attribute it to.
So wise
Dead on.
I feel empty
Hallow
Incomplete.
Like my heart’s not beating.
Eighteen years of parenting
More specifically, mothering.
It’s so hard to let them fly
No matter how strong the roots are.
The hug was longer than usual
Pull away then embrace again
We could barely look at each other.
The walk to the car took forever
Heavy feet
Heavy heart
A text comes through from him
“I got this weird empty feeling as soon as you walked out.”
My heart perks up
I want him to embrace the newness, the experience
But I didn’t want leaving us to be easy
Or a relief.
I encourage him to open his door,
Go meet some people.
The heart walking around in Bowling Green needs to beat, too.
Oh, so beautiful and so true to what all parents feel when our kids leave home for college or work or wherever they may end up. My oldest daughters have been out of the house for many years and it’s still hard to say goodbye when they come visit. So happy when we’re all together.
Ditto what Elisa said. My three are gone and adulting on their own. One actually brought laundry here last weekend-I loved it!
I love “the joy sticking of his life.”
I am in tears. My kids are in their thirties, and you captured the feeling I had when I left them so many years ago.
I can’t say I can relate, since my sons didn’t go away to college, but when they got married, or moved away, oh, the pain. There were times that I just sobbed. I regretted not spending more time with them while they were growing up. I think some, if not most of the teachers here, can relate to feelings of regret or guilt at spending more time on lesson-planning and grading papers than going to the park with the young ones, or sitting with them and reading them a story, or assisting them with their homework. Oh, the conflicting demands of a teacher who is also a parent.
I can’t relate on the level of taking a child to college, but your words resonated with me in regards to having my mother take me to college only 160 miles away. It was the first time I’d leave the farm for a long spell and I know it was going to be an adventure for both my parents and myself. It’s a good feeling to know our parents are the reason we don’t want to go, all the while being the ones who instilled in us a necessity to go. Thank you for sharing!
How do I see the other comments beyond what’s on the first page?? Sorry, but I’ve looked everywhere. Thanks!
Figured it out! Thank you!
Three Things I’m Learning About My Husband
One month into marriage
nearly eight years in love
and I was certain I knew
just about all there was to know.
Until the unpacking of his boxes
revealed a three foot framed portrait of Cosmo Kramer.
His painted lips remain perpetually pursed
and his eyes incredulous when I whisper all the ways
he could disappear without a trace.
He makes the bed every single day.
Sometimes when I’m still in it.
Tucked in, following his movements
with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.
His laundry is separated by colors
the way my mom tried to teach me,
along with sewing
and baking bread
and a whole host of other
skills I grew bored with too quickly.
Learning this person I’ve known
and loved
for so long
is the loveliest
thing I could imagine.
What a lovely way to learn about someone. Your learning unfolds softly and gently – the best way for love to unfold. Thank you for sharing!
Oh Lauren! I love how this poem reveals not only your husband, but also you. “Learning this person” is a wonderful turn of phrase. Use it as a lodestar. In year 35, I am still “learning this person” I married. By the way, I once knew a brilliant poet by the name of Lauren Petri. Your poem reminds me of her. <3
You sweet and wonderful human <3
A gentle, lovely tribute to loving and learning about another person.
So sweet. I’m sure the learning will go on for many years to come!
Lauren — This is so very sweet. And it was surprising. At first I feared it might be something creepy “unpacking his boxes,” and instead, you’ve unfolded a lovely delight. You lucky dawg! Thanks for sharing!
Susie
Lauren, I laughed out loud at that image of Cosmo Kramer. And I love the subtle hint and image of your husband making the bed while you’re in it. ❤️
That’s a funny image of him making the bed w/ you in it. I laughed!
Lauren!
Love the imagery. You’re SO good at that. The three foot framed portrait of Cosmo Kramer got me. Miss you pal, write on!
Why My Feet Are Throbbing
I began walking at 5 a.m,
To the shower
Into the kitchen
To the car
Into the school at 6
I began walking around the classroom to prepare the desk
Down the hall to the “workroom”
Stand at the printer
Make the copies
Back down the hallway to the classroom
Outside for duty
Inside for classes
Around the Room Helping the students
To the hallway to police the traffic
Repeat times
Right there with you! It’s amazing that so much movement happens in a teacher’s life. Thank you for capturing this energy and fatigue!
Thank you, Jennifer. It is amazing because this really just covers a piece of it.
Carla — This reminded me of my first years as a teacher (1000 years ago)… my feet KILLED me… high heels and shirtwaist dresses. Panty hose. Heaven help me. Those first days of the term were brutal, until I finally just relaxed into my teacher comfort zones. You’ve taken me back delightfully. Thanks, Susie
Carla, The circularity of your teaching day and the business of it is a journey I experience through your descriptions. The repetition of “I began walking” is very effective.
Ten Reasons I Despise Chanticleer
1. He struts around like he owns the country.
2. He violates women.
3. He thinks he’s necessary.
4. He attacks for no reason.
5. He attacks from behind at full force.
6. He has a ridiculous top notch on his head.
7. He’s cocky.
8. He’s loud and obnoxious.
9. His clock is off.
10. He reminds me of someone just like him.
It was fun to read this not knowing who Chanticleer is…then looking it up…and re-reading! “He thinks he’s necessary” is such a great line. It shames us all!
I had to look it up, too. Thanks, Kim, for teaching me something new today! Why am I thinking HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED after reading your poem?!? ?
Kim, I was just in an email conversation about Chanticleer yesterday as we discussed our NCTE presentation. This list poem is so much fun, and you capture Chanticleer’s imperfections perfectly. And I know who that someone is. Apt comparison.
The Important Things
The roiling Iowa sky before a storm
The ripple of his tanned forearms as he swings up onto the tractor
The click when the words are right
Children’s laughter as they splash in the fountain; the water shatters in the sun
The baby’s thighs
The soft ache of muscles against clean sheets
The sister who holds my deepest secrets
The physicality of adult children walking through the kitchen door
Cold vanilla ice cream on hot rhubarb crisp
A journal, a pen, a porch, a reader
This is a visceral piece. Beautiful work capturing the small moments that carry such weight!
I feel like I’ve dropped right into your life! You open with a strong visual. The word roiling has so much energy. I can taste the ice cream and rhubarb crisp. I love the line “the water shatters in the sun.” Thank you for bringing us your world.
After reading this, I think we should all write a poem about the important things. I wonder how alike and dissimilar they would be. This is beautiful.
This piece reminds me to carry my journal with me at all times. There is so much worth noticing and then putting into words. I love the rhythm of sensory details you’ve created. My senses are dancing by the final line and I can’t help but read it a second time 🙂
Allison — This is marvelous. You’ve taken me to some very precious places. Dang, really poignant images. “sister… secrets,” “adult children walking through the …door,” “muscles on clean sheets,” … every one of these is just ALIVE. I love this. And I want to sit on that porch! Hugs, Susie
Allison, this poem touches my heart. You’ve crafted such strong images of love and family. The last line is my favorite as it immortalizes the important things and people in your life. Lovely.
Love how quintessentially YOU this poem is. Love you! #iowasky
The Joys of Being a Grandmom (Nona)
Just the thought of your grandchild
makes your heart grow fuller.
You can fill a notebook with
funny stories and cherished memories,
You learn all about the latest
cartoons and kids’ songs.
Each new grandchild
brings you a new perspective
on childhood and on life.
You get to relive childhood milestones
without the parental angst
(well maybe a little angst!).
You see your child as a parent
and connect on a completely
different level.
This is lovely, Rita. It certainly helps me to understand my own mother’s excitement at the prospect of being a grandmother someday. I love that you included “(Nona)” in your title. I always love learning about how different grandparents end up with nontraditional terms of endearment. Is there another poem in this one that would explain how you ended up being called Nona? 🙂
Rita, every time I’m not sure what to write about, I ask my husband for suggestions. He always says Nathan, our grandson. I think I could write an entire book about how amazing he is.
Lauren, I’m getting my grandson to call me GrandMo ?
Lauren, Nonna is the Italian name for grandmother, but I chose to spell it Nona like Strega Nona because I read somewhere that Nona was more like the familiar grandmom rather than grandmother. I’m not a formal kind of person.
I had no idea! You chose a name that conveys warmth. How lovely.
Reasons to Read
Because it is raining
Because it is not raining
Because it is the weekend
Because it is not the weekend
Because lesson plans need to be created
Because no lesson plans need to be created
Because it is vacation
Because it is not vacation
Because students are reading it
Because students are not reading it
Because it is a Book Club choice
Because it is not a Book Club choice
Because
Gayle, I love this! If it’s ok with you, I’d like to use it as a mentor poem for my 6th graders this year. It would be a terrific way to start the year.
Exactly!!! This would be perfect as a mentor poem. Repetition, opposition, humor. Thank you!
Gayle, I love this poem. I never need a reason to read, but always wish I had more time to do it. This is the perfect way to describe the mind of a reader!
I. Love. This.
The juxtaposition of the lines is powerful and ending with the simple BECAUSE is perfect!
I think this can be a great model for kids to pattern a piece after!
Your last line is simply the best! And all the ones before it, too! What a great list poem.
Gaylene, touché! Because we never need a reason to read. Love the way you make that point w/ the final “because”!
The Compromise of a To Do List
A crisp new planner and pristine flair pens
Guarantee a productive and organized start.
I’ve carefully crafted to-do’s in perfect handwriting.
This list of 10 is absolutely manageable, I tell myself.
The minutes tick and tock through morning meetings.
Celebrations, they called them.
Mind wandering, I add 3 more items and unchecked boxes to my list.
Now my list is 13. Still doable. Totally doable.
12:00. Time for lunch.
The summer’s leisure already faded,
Lunch is a drive-thru, gobbled in desperate moments.
Must. Accomplish. List.
12:20. 10 swollen minutes of possibility
Before the PLC meeting. I pee instead.
An hour later, my list has grown:
3 more empty boxes waiting to be ticked.
16 ugly empty windows.
They leer. They taunt. They chide.
1:45. I have two hours.
List! Prepare thyself for death!
A colleague pops in. How was my summer, she wonders.
Focus. Where was I?
Email alert. Pressing too hard on my pretty flair tip,
I add another item to the scroll of “to be done.”
I modify an old file. I send it to print.
With glee, I check the box. Done. 1 item done!
3:40. I need to pick up the baby by 4:00.
That’s a whole 5 beautiful moments to accomplish
S-O-M-E-T-H-I-N-G.
I write: Transfer List of Unfinished Items.
I transfer the unchecked list to Tuesday.
And tick off the last item from Monday’s to-do.
Small victories.
Hayley, this captures the frustration we experience every day, but especially at the beginning of school. You capture the flavor beautifully. (Which is why I have given up lists and moved to sheer hope.)
“List! Prepare thyself for death!”
I can hear your voice so clearly here and it makes me smile 🙂 Also, I promise to try to say this out loud at least once tomorrow in solidarity with you. The way you marked time throughout this piece made me feel that beat of anxiety. The clock is ticking. How much do I indulge the anxiety I could allow myself to feel? How much do I accept that I did what I could with the time I was given today? You have me thinking. Thank you for this, Haley!
I had the same thought as Lauren when I read that line! I HEARD Haley! I loved the progression from admiring your list to hating it. Pushing too hard against the Flair pen said so much. Also this: “Celebrations, they called them.” THEY CALL THEM! HA! I loved seeing your writing here tonight!
Haley, it’s so weird that I feel people here are peering into my very soul. This is the year I decided to really get organized, especially with a planner. I was up till nearly midnight last night working on it. The day before yesterday I had an internal conversation with myself about the acceptability of adding a To Do item to my list after it was done, just so that I could check it off.
You have captured the struggle. It is real.
Haley, My favorite line is “List! Prepare thyself for death!” I sense your determination to defeat the list, but it abruptly taunts you: “They leer. They taunt. They chide.” Wonderful personification. Your poem captures the epic struggle of all teachers w/ burgeoning “to-do” lists. Love it.
And this is why I feel like I have adult ADHD at work. Every task is like the pinball bouncing from bumper to bumper and attempts at organization often fail because someone else changes the priorities. You’ve nailed it.
Kwame’s poem is a definition of the word “bittersweet.” Every time I look at a former treasured item of my children’s, I am so sad for what is no longer treasured and so happy for who (whom?) they have become.
Mo,I love your list poem. I see the Malbec stains on essays. Those are hard to explain. Coffee and popcorn are easier! I’ve cried over so many piles of papers awaiting grading. Your use of humor is spot on and understated. No, Stranger Things will not watch itself, and you do have all weekend! ??
LOL. I usually can avoid the stains on essays, but the strange purple splotch in the middle of my grade book was hard to explain a few years ago!
Aging Wistfully
Value your aging body
Let your eyes skitter past the parts no longer thrilling.
It is, after all, healthy
And is the only one available to you right now.
Commemorate being watched at 30
Moving through the crowd
Studiously ignoring the watchers
Consuming you with their eyes
Remind yourself that there is
Freedom in invisibility.
Your wisdom compensates for becoming less distinct.
Rummage through your memories
Select carefully.
Sort through the hard lessons.
Call up the joyous moments.
Savor them all.
Those moments, those lessons, are who you are now.
And it is permissible to yearn
Just a little
To be watched just one more time.
Gayle, I needed this reminder today as I cross from one stage of life into another. I’m going to hug your words: “there is freedom in invisibility.” This one is hard when standing at the fish counter. Thank you for your grace.
I was able to settle into the beauty of this poem. It resonates. The words land in just the right places. Wistful is perfection.
Gayle, I suspect many of us need a reminder like this once in a while. I’m going to train my eyes to start skittering. Excellent advice!
I love the lilt and cadence of the poem. Each line leans into the next beautifully. Favorite lines: “Let your eyes skitter past the parts no longer thrilling,” “Remind yourself that there is/ Freedom in invisibility,” “And it is permissible to yearn.” Thank you for sharing your words!
Gayle, I could really relate to “Rummage through your memories.” I have had my share of “hard lessons” like everyone, but you reminded me to relish my life lessons and age because that is why I am who I am. Thank you for the reminder.
Gayle, I am right there with you! Recently I’ve been reminding myself that if politicians in their 70s can run for office, I might have a little something left in me as well :-). I appreciated the admonishment to sift through and select the memories and moments that define us.
Seven Reasons I Don’t Sleep
10:30 pm
Because I’ll just read another chapter.
12:15 am
Because my To Do list spins in my head.
Seating charts
and You Are Beautiful videos for our welcome presentation
and Barnes and Noble shopping
and book Journal Art
and
and
and
3:46 am
Because kennel cough has latched onto our dog.
And his medicine fights against it but causes him
to wake at odd hours to go out.
And thirst for water
first from one toilet,
then his water bowl
and finally, the other bathroom.
3:53 am
Because now that I’m awake again,
I’ll just read another chapter.
4:52 am
Because apparently they’ve discovered plastic
in rain water.
Alarming, but not the worst news
I’ve read in the middle of the night.
4:56 am
Because Catherynne Valente’s twitter thread
exploring the women/man ratio
for the Hugo novel this year
speaks truth.
6:30 am
Because just as my mind finally settles,
the alarm sounds.
Jennifer, you are channeling my life in this poem. I saw that same story about plastic in rainwater. Scary. The apocalyptic world we live in keeps me awake. I love the time stamps and the way this trope slows the poem so that I experience it like an insomniac. And I can hear the dog drinking out of the toilet. Wonderful sound imagery.
Jennifer,
I love how your words exactly portray insomnia/anxiety, especially at this back to school time of the year. Your use of anaphora is spot on.
I feel like I’m repeating myself so much today, but your poem is so relatable. I slept about 3 hours last night ahead of a big day today. We have a lot in common with one another in this group! I hope your dog gets better soon.
I think “your poem is relatable” is credit to your prompt! These poems are so much fun to read! Thank you!
You are writing inside my head. All night long – sleep, read a chapter, sleep, read a chapter, repeat – all night long!
That is a perfect review of insomnia. Because, because, because…
I think the rush of the list — the weight of what keeps us up — works so well! You start light — just another chapter — and then throw headlong into real middle of the night fears. I love the hard end. Or start, as they case may be. 🙂
Oh I loved this! On so many levels: your mix of humor with details that shout “real’; your arrangement by times of the night; your use of the specific “Catherynne Valente” and your dear old dog that I understand even though I know neither. I love that kind of poetry. Sleep well, poet.
I’m raising my hand —- yes, me too! I love the line about plastic in rainwater. Because that’s alarming news in the wee hours. So real!!
Oh Jennifer! This sounds way too familiar! Good job!
“First Day of Retirement Distractions”
Begin with a vow to
Rise early, an act of
Solidarity with friends
Returning to ubiquitous,
Meetings & New Year resolutions.
Walk three miles alone
Listening to “How to Be…” in
This new destiny, determined to
Replicate repeated treks
To the office supply closet.
Test drive a new car I don’t need,
Preparing for fall road trips:
Writing workshops and tourist traps,
Existential and physical journeys linking
Kearney car shows & Amber fields.
Check Twitter & find a thread you’re tagged in, a
Forgotten student reaching through
Years & beyond your teacher memory
With a message: “the seeds were planted.
“Thank you for asking better of us.”
Realize there is no distraction from
Life lived in, through, and beyond
Classrooms where teachers & students
Learn & thrive & grow together.
De rerum natura we’re full circle.
*Last line is a nod to Lucretius’s “On the Nature of the Universe.”
Glenda, you are a master of assonance and consonance without coming off as forced. This poem begs to be read aloud because of the beauty of your words. Your last six lines are powerful and really resonate with me.
Thank you for pointing this out, Mo. I agree!
Glenda, this is so lovely. How fitting that you start your first day of your new journey with beautiful words, a nod to your past, and embrace of your future, a meditation on the present.
Glenda,
Thank you for sharing this reflection with us — what an honor to be alongside you in this way. I am in awe of how this community permits us to follow one another’s lives through verse. Not that a tweet or facebook post isn’t grand with image and hashtags, but your poetry is visceral as well as cerebral. “Life lived in, through, and beyond” — ah, that.
Glenda (my MIL’s name!), I love that you embrace the hopes in retirement while facing the realities with distractions. I can see myself in your examples. Your last stanza is beautiful and holds truth.
My favorite line—Life lived in, through, and beyond.
Your words are simply divine – I always love your messages. To test drive a car I don’t need…..thank you for asking better of us….I love the sentiments!
Glenda,
This is incredible. I am nearing retirement, and you paint a picture of what I think I will feel.
I love the line “life lived in, through, and beyond”
We are blessed to be part of so many lives.
What They Did This Weekend
crashed your bike
crashed your friend’s bike
into a wall, which then
fell on you
bit by the dog,
then fell off the trampoline,
pulling the net down with you
chased through the park
by a mystery man
mom complained the school never calls,
then didn’t pick up when you needed new shorts
scratched your pinky finger
threatened
by a man with a gun
swam in the pool
played Fortnite.
Oh my, what a weekend! At this time of year you make me think of the “storm before the calm.” It will be nice to get back into the routine of school for many of us. I really want to know more about the mystery man and the man with the gun!
Grace,
Love the title of “they,” which makes us infer about the speaker, the “you,” and the “they.” Your pronouns do wonders here. And then all this mayhem from a scratch to a gun. Vivid images here.
Sarah
What an adventurous weekend! It was crazy enough before the man with the gun. This makes me want to know the bigger story too and whether he’s also the mystery man! Thanks for letting us peek into the weekend.
Grace, WOW! I love the way you progress from innocent, normal dangers of childhood—a bike wreck, a dog bite, the debaclevon the trampoline—to the existential threats children face just being children—chased by a man w/a gun. Then there’s the hint: life is not a game but the game of life goes on. Clever and timely.
Holy Cow, Grace — This is a real booger of a weekend. When we get right down to it, our moments are fraught with so much… and your moments are holy-cow-daunting! I loved that after all that, we were taken to the pool and “played Fortnite” as if all was well. The short lines punctuate that staccato of each of these events. Very effective! Susie
DO I HAVE TO?
“Do I have to?” often is asked
And my answer usually is, “Yes!”
Until I they ask me, “Why?”
You want an answer? Here, I’ll try.
Why do they have to be on time?
Why do poems have to rhyme?
Why do they have to courteous?
Why is being kind a must?
Because being on time is kind.
And courtesy is what they will find
Is just what they want from others.
So we tell what we learn from mothers.
“Why do you have to do it? You want to know?”
“Well, I’m your mother, and I say so!”
Anna, your poem really made me smile. I often look at the women in my family and think they are turning into their mothers. I include myself in that group, but at my age, I realize what a compliment that is when people say it to me. Your poem evokes a kind of Shel Silverstein quality for me. Nicely done.
Anna,
I love the lessons you offer here, the reasonable “answers” that, we know, never quite satisfy because the lessons have to be experienced and learned. I always that that is just what my mother or teacher or husband always means when they say “because I say so.” Love the end rhyme in kind and find to also demonstrate your point about what a rhyme can do. Even though poems don’t have to rhyme, our ears like it when then do sometimes.
Sarah
Anna, Those “do I have to” questions exhaust us parents! You do a wonderful job sharing the universal experience of motherhood. I think all mothers are guilty of saying, “because I said so” at one time or another.
Anna — The voice in this is so spot-on! I could just feel that pounding of each of these questions…the badgering nature of them. Lessons lessons lessons. Neat! Susie
Here I go!
Cancer
Everyone has it.
Not me.
Now me.
I’ve learned so much
about myself,
what I care about,
what I used to care about,
why that’s not important…
anymore.
Cancer has given me
a new lease on life.
Sounds corny,
but true.
I am more aware
of people I care about
and who care about me.
Finding out who is a friend
and who isn’t.
I now understand
(more than before)
what it means to take
things for granted,
people for granted.
Not me.
Yes, me.
I now understand
that I haven’t been there for
my family.
(My heart catches in my throat.)
And, I hear myself…
complaining,
demanding,
being ungrateful.
Me?
Yes, me.
Now, I try not to complain
(it’s hard),
to be grateful
(a habit to cultivate),
with a smile
(genuine, not fake),
and a thank you
(heartfelt).
Now, I try to be (more) honest with myself
(not easy).
I thought I was doing this already.
Surprise!
Not me.
Now me…
sometimes.
Wow, Elisa. Your poem seems so understated at first, but it really packs a wallop. You get right down to what’s important. I think most of us “know” this, but it’s seems to be something you have to live through to genuinely understand. You’ve shown cancer as a part of your journey in life in such a touching way.
I admire your honesty in the poem. None of us are perfect, so I’m glad you are cutting yourself some slack. I hope you are doing well.
Thank you for your comment, Mo. It has been quite a journey and it’s not over yet! I haven’t kept a journal like some other cancer patients I’ve read about, but every so often I feel moved to write about this experience. I am trying to become a better person as a result.
Oh, Elisa, thank you for sharing your insights and experience with cancer. So brave and beautiful. I love the repetition of the Not me. Now me. I learned the word for this end repetition or epistrophe. This movement from past to present from not knowing to knowing from unconscious to consciousness — so inspiring and genuine. Still, I will listen if you want to complain.
Sarah
Thanks, Sarah. It has been hard for me to acknowledge my shortcomings. I’ve fought hard against this, but I can’t anymore. Whether it’s due to the extra time on my hands or my children echoing my husband, I’ve had to come to terms with what I need and want to change.
Elisa, thanks for being a window and a mirror. You’ve shown us you (we thank you for trusting us in this vulnerable way), and you’ve shown me me. How often do I take time to appreciate the now and the who?
Your use of the poetic device of repetition reiterates the dailiness of life that can change in a moment.
Praying that what we are learning continues to teach us to be who we want to be when we realize that circumstances may no longer be in our control.
Thank you for that last line. I will need to remember this. As a teacher, my major focus has been my profession. Life is teaching me something else about what’s truly important.
I felt the push and pull in your poem – the relief and acceptance, the gratitude and ungratefulness, not me and now me. There’s a vividness and openness to your honesty. I found the writing compelled me to both thought and reflection. Sending hugs to you.
Thank you, Jennifer. Hugs are always welcome!
Elisa, First, I am so sorry to learn about your cancer diagnosis. Thank you for sharing your story, for trusting us with it. This line rings true for me: “I now understand that I haven’t been there for my family.” I know I need to do better.
Yes! That’s what happens when your work becomes your life. Not enough moments in the days, weeks, months, and years of our lives to allow this to be our focus. So much to learn still!
Oh, what an emotional ride! Thank you for opening your soul and letting your heart flow through your fingers onto the page, Elisa. I love your repetitive use of not me, now me….not me, yes me. You are brave and courageous to share your battle with us – and remind us that cancer is not more of a battle for us than we are for ourselves. I love your honesty that makes us all take a long, hard look at what we value.
Thank you, Kim. I only wish (just a moment for a regret) that I’d learned this lesson sooner. And, it’s never too late to learn something new and have it change your life as a result.
I related to so much of what you said! My cancer (“my cancer”) taught me so much. It strangely freed me up to live abundantly. Thank you for reminding me–beautifully.
Thank you for sharing this important message. Whenever something unexpected comes up, we always claim that there was too little too late. You could be the difference for those who need to hear this message!
Mo,
Thanks for such great inspiration today. Oh, your poem brings a bit of anxiety as I battle often with procrastination of this school kind. I especially enjoyed the line “Doesn’t your sock drawer need organizing?” as I often choose something mundane to avoid the more important, but less desirable, “to dos” on my teacher list!
Thanks for contributing today,
Julie
Writing during 1st period today. This was a longer poem I started to write in July before I visited my mom’s hometown in early August for a long weekend. The list poem idea helped me taper it down! The bell just rang, though, and I’m posting without much more time to edit!
Hometown
Schulenburg, Texas
Population 2000
My mother’s hometown
Between Houston and San Antonio
Off Interstate 10
past cousin Chuck’s Ford dealership
Frank’s Restaurant,
DQ,
Country Bakery,
Oakridge Smokehouse,
and City Market Barbeque.
Past old homes,
Aunt Jerry’s brick ranch,
Grandpa’s white frame house,
cemetery plots,
and old oak trees.
Memories come fresh
cranking ice cream on the porch,
riding to the cattle ranch,
climbing in hay barns,
and shopping at Casper’s Department Store.
Schulenburg Festival,
rodeo,
carnival,
music under the pavillion
barbeque cook off,
cold beer,
Frito Pie,
and two-step dancing into the night.
Patsy (my mother)
Edith
Evelyn
Dolly
Jerry
Vastine
and Ed
siblings from
Schulenburg, Texas.
Yes! These are great lists that create the perfect imagery without many adjectives at all. I love it.
Julie,
I love the place and activity and people. Love the lines with single words to show the community, the personal alongside the social, the moments alongside the bigger events. And I love learning about our America. I would like to request a whole poem dedicated to Frito pie!
Peace,
Sarah
Julie, your use of lists that include both places and names reminds me of Sandra’s Cisneros’ writing in THE HOUSE ON MANGO STREET. You both create a strong since of community – the physical and the personal.
I’ve never been to any of the places you wrote about, and didn’t even know that I was missing out on Frito pie, but I read your poem smiling. Memories flooded back of every road trip I’ve ever taken. The special places, events, and people were right there all along. Thank you, Julie!
Julie, the listing of places reinforces a sense of home in your poem. I feel as though I’m in the car making the journey with you.
Julie, What a beautiful poem. You made me feel like I was riding shotgun on this trip. This poem reminds me of a time when life was simpler, and it makes me long for that time.
You pulled me in with your simple but real descriptions, taking me from my trips past old homeplaces and into the reunions we have.
Love your list! I was able to get a great picture of your mom’s hometown!
“Five Reasons I Write”
Because sometimes, I don’t know
exactly
what I’m thinking until I write it down.
Because who wants to
pay a therapist?
Because students appreciate
authentic models.
Because you can get lost
in the forest
at the ocean
on a spaceship
in your own mind.
Because it’s like breathing
out.
NJ, this is fabulous. I think many of us can relate to the idea of writing as therapy! Your last two stanzas blew me away. You’ve captured how what happens in the mind can be so overwhelming, and then the sweet release!
“Because it’s like breathing out.” I love that! This is very succinct, but impactful (as most good poems are).
Me too! I will savor this metaphor.
NJ,
I wonder how many people in the world write for the reasons you suggest. I, for sure, have saved a lot of money on therapy by filling dollar store notebooks with thoughts, joys, desires, and some rants and raves. I, too, especially enjoyed your last line!
Julie
NJ, More and more I have that same sense of breathlessness that comes from not writing. Love the understated humor in the rhetorical question: Who wants to pay a therapist.”
NJ,
You have captured it perfectly! We write because we are lost, to model honesty and vulnerability for our students, to share our voice. Wonderful!
“Because it’s like breathing out.” thank you for that.
I love the way the last line and the second to last stanza work so powerfully.
NJ, this poem says it all. I love the breathing. That’s how I feel about this group – it’s my oxygen. Thanks for some powerful reminders about why we write.
Ha! I chuckled at “because who wants to pay a therapist”. And, I liked “because it’s like breathing out” whatever’s inside goes on paper or online and it’s out in the world for others to read.
“because who wants to pay a therapist?”
What a great line!
4 Reasons Not to Go to BBB When Moving
Because moving from everything
you’ve ever known to a place
where no one knows your name,
George Foreman will grill
a sandwich for you. (A $19 deal.)
Because boxes stacked five-high suffocate,
the pastel rainbow of fitted sheets
sitting in all their glory on the shelf
assuages your anxiety until
the failed refolding. (With a $20 gift card.)
Because other bottoms on toilet seats
and sticky stuff in fridge drawers,
Shark Tank’s Lori drops into your cart
Scrub Daisy ‘n’ Scour Daddy,
$30 to scrub muck ‘n’ yuck. (You’re dead to me.)
Because a new home brings
promises of a new you,
SodaStream Fizzi One Touch
Sparkling Water Maker with Co2
holds hydration investment for $120.
But a little fizz after
hours of unpacking —
priceless, BBB, priceless.
Sarah, I thought maybe I was the only one with this problem, so thanks for letting me know I’m not alone. I hope you used your 20% off coupons! And the sheet remolding- we’ve all been there! Best of luck in your new place and your new position.
Sarah,
Your poem was so much fun to read. I, too, am a BBB junkie. I love how your poem records your latest adventure in life through your purchases. I could feel your feelings of anxiousness in the line “Because moving from everything you’ve ever known to a place where no one knows your name…”. Yet there is hopefulness expressed in “Because a new home brings promises of a new you…” Enjoy the crisp new sheets and the fizzy water!
Julie
This one made me smile. My husband and I must have gotten $400 in BBB gift cards for our wedding (in addition to the things we registered for there), so we basically own half the store. It’s addicting! I really enjoyed your use of parentheses here, too. I think sometimes list poems can be lacking in commentary, but the parentheses allow you to wedge it in here and there.
Sarah, I love this poem and must tell you I had to purchase sheets (last minute) at BBB when my son (he’s 34) arrived for a visit, and I had no sheets for the spare room, which used to be my child’s room. I’m a bad mom!
I love the reasons followed by the way BBB fills a void. The prices add humor and realism while offering a subtle commentary of the cost of moving.
I, too, wish you lots of wonderful moments in your new home and at OSU. Soon, many will know your name, and you’ll have lots of fun cheering in the Cowboys, especially against OU.
Sarah, I love how the loneliness and uncertainty (the honesty) come through, buffeted by your humor. You are willing to laugh even as you admit the fear. I loved this. Thank you.
Mo, what a fun poetry challenge you have given us today! I can’t wait to get started….between classes of orientation….already thinking of my topic….
I adore your poem, but especially that last line. Muscular and silky. You’ve got me wondering about that Malbec, and I’m long overdue for my favorite day trip to re-taste the full flight of reds.
Mo— I’m laughing out loud here in my kitchen as I pack up the last bags of stuff to load in my car. I drive to Door County today to go biking w/a friend. When it’s my turn to ride shotgun, I’ll be crafting my list poem. Yours is truly an inspiration. Each item is totally real in my own life. You’ve captured some priceless universals! The Friday optimism of having all weekend to read those essays—I used those very words oh so often. And capping it with that Malbec just sent me giggling.
Thank you for a dandy return to our 5 days of monthly poetry writing! I’ll post tonight or maybe at a rest stop with WiFi.
Susie
Susie, I am looking forward to your poem! Are you on the road again?