Today’s writing inspiration comes from Mo Dorsey. She is a reading specialist at Homewood School District 153 and the librarian of Little Free Library on Landings Lane.
Inspiration
A blackjack poem is simply a 3 lined poem comprised of 7 syllables in each line for a total of 21 syllables. Unlike a haiku which is normally about nature, blackjack can be about anything.
Process
When I think of the word blackjack, I think of chance, luck, and calculated risks. When is a time you took a risk? Did it pay off? Did you win or lose? Should you have played it safe? Write a blackjack or series of blackjacks to share your experience.
Mo’s Poem
“Honey, I got promoted!
Good news, bad news. Want to move?
I hear France is amazing!”
“Is this connection wonky?
Everything we love is here.
Home, family, friends, and pets!”
“Let’s take a chance now, later
there might not be another.
Oh, and a flat with a view!”
Suitcases packed, adventure
begun, living like expats
Hemingwayesque cafes, bars
Until it all fell apart
and work grew unbearable
Illinois whispered, “Come home!”
Au revoir markets, bistros,
romantic walks, ancient art,
leisurely dinners with wine.
We came home to all we love
wiser, appreciative of
them, but longing to go back.
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.
The corners of my eyes burned
when two months into college I closed my door quietly
let out a guttural sob
that turned from ragged anger
rooted in desperation
to bright possibilities
in the form of a transfer
record promising an out.
The contrast of the quiet door and the guttural sob mirrors the eternal/internal discrepancy. You went to the heart of complicated emotion with “ragged anger rooted in desperation.” I am sorry you had to go through this, but using beautiful words and rhythms to explore dark times makes poetry. Thank you.
I wrote this last night, but am just now getting a chance to post!
Tuesdays seem awfully hard
most weeks. Especially when
you often think they’re Mondays.
So, coffee cup in hand, I
remind myself that they are
actually wonderful.
A quiet day of the week
can be full of surprises.
Sleepy students in their desks
who perk up when you ask them
“If you could write anything all
year, what would it be?” Whispers
start with “music.” Then “fashion.”
And “ video games.” Louder.
“Politics.” “Sports.” “Books.” “My life.”
The room, alive now with ideas.
Pencils moving across the page.
A few smiles here and there
while you let the work unfold.
Sitting back, realizing how
Tuesdays are spectacular
after all is said and done.
Sam said he wanted a dog.
A few words came to my mind:
Messy, Chew-Machine, Smelly
Two months later, we got him —
Called the little fuzz-ball Tobes.
(I resisted affection)
Puppy ate and slept and grew,
Had an accident (or two)
Zoomed after balls, learned to sit
His ears perk up when I say
“Food”, “Hungry?” “Ice cube” “Where’s Sam?”
He “protects” me from strangers
Together we laugh and cry
Against my will, I love my
Heterochromatic dog
I draft this poem with my Tobes
Sleeping soundly on my feet
Chasing a ball in his dreams
Rachelle, You had me at “wanted a dog.”
Oh, let me count the ways we love our dogs. I love this poem – it is in-the-moment-real! Straight outta most dog homes, so I could relate! Heterochromatic dog is funny!
Rachelle, I love the progression from resistance to Tobes’ collaborative presence in the writing of your poem. The movement tells a story, in these few syllables, of how we don’t always know what we want (or need). <3 Wonderful poem!
She filed for divorce one day
But it took forever to end
Twelve dark months to be exact
But twenty-nine years married
Ripped bloody holes in her soul
And bulldozed her emotions
A woman dying to live
Will eventually choke time
To cocoon herself with God
Wow, first of all, this is so raw. The imagery—twelve dark months, to be exact is a book in itself…. The last stanza is powerful. “Will eventually choke time”—the metaphor is one I will carry— and the peace in the last line. Again, wow.
Stacey, you have a gift! I can relate to this, minus 9 years. You hit the nail on the head with bloody holes and bulldozed emotions. Wow!
Oh Stacey, thank you for turning pain into a thing of beauty here. This poem is a gem of emotion and imagery. “Choke time” was one of my favorite word combinations here–the two words are strident together, which emphasizes the rending needed to get to that cocoon where you softly land in the final line. Thank you.
Oh, this is such an emotionally raw poem! It gives me all the feels! Though the whole poem makes me stop in my tracks to connect with the speaker, the last stanza leaves me with a powerful image. Bravo!
Day#2 (Posting very late….will comment tomorrow!)
It’s hard to say “No” sometimes.
That gets me into trouble.
Need to learn to set limits.
Can I learn to draw the line
when a person wants my help?
I cannot help everyone.
Learning to practice self care
is not a selfish notion.
It is a matter of health.
You cannot serve anyone
if you do not serve yourself.
Never take “you” for granted.
This is EXACTLY what my coworkers are focusing on this school year, SELF CARE. I love the way your honesty shows yet also your longing to be free of the burdens from helping others before yourself. Thank you for sharing.
Easier said than done, right? “Learning to practice self-care” is a perfect line. Because learning is messy, we don’t always get it right at first — even when the subject is “self-care.” Keep practicing, Rita! I will try to, too.
Here it goes! Day #2! Love this writing idea.
Books, Books and More…Books
I signed up for all book clubs
and more. I had to show up.
Woe is me! I can’t keep up.
Nevertheless, I stuck with
it, dropped out of two, saved face.
Here I am again anew.
Love to talk books, kids and things.
Learn so much even though it is
hard to keep up. Mark my place.
I’ll stay on through thick and thin
‘Cause that’s how I roll. You knew?
Thank you for welcoming me.
Do you have some kind of crystal ball? Seriously?!? I was in three book clubs for a long time, tried to cut back, eventually wound up with none, now have started up with one again. It’s like you’re watching my life! But how can we resist? So many books and so little time! I love this poem!
“You smile too much,” Ann said.
And because we were best friends
I tried to silence my face.
Friendship at fourteen: the brand
of identity, searing
the most tender skin of self.
If Ann said “Pluck your eyebrows”
I did. If Ann said “Don’t slouch”
I didn’t. But when Ann said
“You smile too much,” I lost
my way. My stubborn smile
took my hand and led me home.
Oh boy. You’re making me remember things long forgotten from childhood. This would be beautiful to share with students. I love the lesson about sticking to who you really are. I bet your stubborn smile is beautiful!
Allison – The strength that pulls through in this poem is lifesaving. That last line…my stubborn smile took my hand and led me home” is so strong. It puts Ann in her place and releases you. The hold that others have on us at 14 is brutal. You’ve captured that. Ann “searing your skin”… deadly good line! Love this. Allison, this poem will resonate with every girl, every woman I know. Thank you for sharing this memory of vulnerability and strength. Susie
Allison, this hit me hard. I recall being a teen and told I smile too much. Hence the smile lines around my mouth at age 55. I love the way the stubborn smile took your hand and led you home. Smiling is much safer away from kids like Ann. ?
I am so glad your stubborn smile took you home.
I love the message! This is a great reminder for all those kids finding their way at the beginning of the year to stay true to themselves.
Do I want to take the chance?
Move out of my comfort zone?
6th grade has been good to me.
High school what am i thinking!?
Become new, refreshed, revived.
Stay the course, nine more years?
What can it hurt? Take the leap!
Why not? It’s easy to stay in our comfort zones, but we know the real learning starts when we push ourselves to try something new. You have a great attitude and I’m sure your students will see that. Best of luck!
Tricia, thank you for capturing the fear (?) that comes with a change–even when we know the change is needed. I love the final “Take the leap” line! Go for it!
“Treetop Adventurers”
Treetop adventure awaits
Little brother’s bright idea
To get big sister swinging.
Click in carabiners right
Pulleys snapped and straps pulled tight
Ready to climb, glide, and slide.
Taught nerves, tight zip lines up high
Above forests’ canopies
Blue skies beckon. Sunbeams shine
Casting shadows far below.
Athletic adventurers
Like rainforest critters we soar.
*Inspired by my brother’s ongoing effort to help me overcome my fear of heights.
Glenda, once again your word choices help your poem flow beautifully. “Pulleys snapped and straps pulled tight” makes me feel, see, and hear the tension. “Blue skies beckon. Sunbeams soar” gives me hope that you’re going to enjoy it. Your last line convinced me that it was worth the risk.
Side note- I zip lined for the first time last year and loved it! Pure exhilaration.
I love reading the responses almost as much as reading the poems themselves! Thank you, Mo, for pointing out the emotional/literal tension created as the pulleys are snapped and the straps are pulled tight. Glenda, I loved how the assonance in “climb, glide, and slide” created an auditory glide through the series of words. Lovely!
Five years have flown by so fast
Baby, toddler, preschool, now
Kindergarten starts too soon.
He can’t wait to learn new things
He can’t wait to make new friends
Excitement fills his smiles, but
I can wait to send him off
I can wait to watch him grow
Hold him little a while more
Aimee, this sure is a timely poem. So many of my coworkers are dealing with these emotions right now. I remember them. It doesn’t matter if it’s kindergarten or college. Those emotions are real. Your last stanza is so understated, but it gets right to the core. Lovely.
Aimee this hit me right in the heart! We just took our baby to college!
Woven with Love
A guy and a girl in love
A wedding tying the knot
Four diverse blendings of genes
People-pleaser . . . a good trait?
Always smiling, there for all
Striver, achiever–full plate.
So brave and independent
Globetrotter with roots nowhere
Leads, willing to piss ‘em off.
Sensitive attention seeker
But friendly and warm to all
Bender of the truth. To save.
Strong-willed, scattered
Athletic–sky’s the limit
Social and charismatic.
Teacher and coach of all things
Laid-back, easy to talk to
Playful and fun; great dance moves.
Giving, nurturing, and kind
Sentimental and fragile
Hoping not to break again.
Six strong strands braided as one
Each fiber makes us strong
Will others join our family fray?
Susan, I love the way you have represented a family woven together of love, making it so strong. In my own family I often think our differences make us stronger. This format seems to really suit your topic.
Susan, I especially loved this line: “Bender of the truth. To save.” This is such a generous understanding of (the family member)’s intention. I felt a story beneath each stanza. This was lovely.
Cartwheels could probably hurt me…
But I took a run and leap.
They loved it! Summer’s here now!
Greg, who did you do these cartwheels for?!? What’s next, a roundoff? This poem seems as fun as you must be.
I learned to do a cartwheel in junior high gym class. (The fact that I say “junior high” and “gym class” dates me.) It was exhilarating! Your poem brought that back to me! Thank you!
The heat took my breath away,
When I walked through the door
Mercilessly it hung thick
It permeated through me,
As I walked to the car.
I felt the burn through my soles.
Carla, Ouch! I can feel the pain as I’ve also done this when I lived in the Arizona desert.
Oh I can imagine what it must have been like. I am in Arkansas and the temperature was a 102 when I walked out today!
Yuck. All I can think is that you probably had to deal with the heat a few more minutes while your car cooled down. What’s worse than that? Oh yeah, having to scrape the midwestern ice off the windshield in subzero weather! The grass is always greener…
Yes, I started to write more and go into the car but I decided that I had the point across just like it was.
Same. Sounds like Vegas right now. Great imagery.
Mo, thanks for another fun poem today. I love the push-pull feel of Europe and America, home and abroad, the emotional ambivalence against the backdrop of the clear line of home.
What a great opportunity to have lived in France and eaten in those fresh air outdoor cafes as a lifestyle for awhile! I love your poem!
Johnson Funny Farm Peepers
Peepers on the Funny Farm
Bantam, Ameraucana,
Australorp, and Orpington
Asian Black and Dominique
Rhode Island Red and Leghorn
preening, prattling pullets
steering clear of Chanticleer
footloose biddies rue the coop
moody brooders rule the roost
free-range fowl feed family
breakfast-supper meals each week
scrumptious eggs from scrambled breeds
feathered personalities
entertain, to say the least
much like people, yes indeed
Kim, I love this! At first I didn’t recognize all the chicken breeds, but this is clear as I progress through the poem. Chanticleer is a popular character in our poems this week. Such a naughty boy! I’d love to have some chickens, but my husband, who was raised in a farm, won’t have anything to do w/ this idea. Love the assonance in “rue the coop.” Such a fun poem.
Oh, Kim — I must share this happy poem with my niece out in Portland. She has a little brood of hens. Like your varied kinds, she loves the personalities and has named them: Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Sonia Sotomeyer, Marge Simpson, Chelsea Handler, Tina Fey. Chickens just give me the giggles. I loved your Moody, brooder, roost, coop…assonance. ?? And all the alliteration… preening, prattling, pullets. Aren’t chickens wonderful?! Like people indeed. Wonderful blackjack work! This really capped my evening! Er-Er-Er-er-Errrr!
Susie
Kim, so many breeds! I love your alliterative line “preening, prattling pullets” and all the internal rhymes, especially “steering clear of Chanticleer.” He is popular this week! You are a true wordsmith!
I love the rhythm of your poem. It’s very playful and alliterative – reminds me of Silverstein.
Mo — Oh, France! How wonderful is that! The sense of a cycle… there and then the calling that brought you back… I like that. I like that conversation … “Honey, I….” Such big new arriving in so few words that changed life in such a giant way — the play with the size of things really works…. at first almost casual – “I hear France…” and then the enormity of chancing it. Very exciting to think risks and chances can be transformative and still bring you back home. Inspiring. Thanks, Susie
Let’s Have One More
I think we’re making a monster
Too much love for one daughter
She needs some competition
Be careful what you ask for
Pregnant already? With TWINS?
A cosmic joke gone too far
We leap large. Three becomes five.
Our family is seam-bulged
Competition? Got it now!
Gayle,
“making a monster” lightens the mood with its whimsical alliteration, and then later with “we leap large” we hear the alliteration again as you balance the joy but also the immensity of this change. Thank you for sharing, and I hope to see pictures!
Sarah
Megan is 36 now, and the twins are 33. It was a wild ride…
I love the image that “seam-bulged” creates. And I remember feeling that way.
Oh, what fun! This was a sweet surprise – for the reader and the bulging-seams family!
Gayle, This is great! The alliteration in “We leap large” and The image of “seam-bulged” show a lot of skill.
Congratulations.
Gayle, I’m sure your house is filled w/ love as well as competition for the oldest, once the only, child. The all caps on “TWINS” reinforces your surprise. I’m all smiles reading this happy family poem.
“A cosmic joke gone too far”- what a great line! I love your attitude in this poem. I love that you leapt large. his whole poem makes me smile. Best of luck!
LOL! Love this. And, there is never too much love for one daughter. I know common sense says otherwise, but we need all the love we can throw out into the world. I know you know that!
Mo, thanks for inviting us to look at the good and bad, positive and negative, inviting and scary events in our lives. Asking us to write about them in this format caused us to consider the tension we experienced at the time of the incident, and in finding words that fit the blackjack pattern. The way you describe your time in France shows that so well, in the second line “Good news, bad news. Want to move?”, but especially in the fulcrum line “Until it fell apart.”
Anna, I agree. 5he blackjack structure created its own tension, and we had to be economical with our words. I’m planning on using this in my class this year. Mo, thanks for this particular activity, and the five day challenge as a whole. I wanted to get back into writing. You are my kick start!
Woohoo! This is such a blast for me. This whole project has invigorated me as a writer. I love reading everyone’s poems and comments. The insights are amazing.
I don’t think I really thought too much about the tension aspect, but as I read the poems throughout the day, that aspect really jumped out at me, too. This will be great with kids who are sometimes intimidated with the succinctness of haiku.
“Want to bungee jump next week?”
They asked. My stomach revolved.
Is it safe? Do you trust them?
We stood on the rusty bridge.
Train tracks removed long ago.
Makeshift platform. Harnessed feet.
Falling through space, then shooting
upward to a weightlessness.
Thrilling. Seemingly endless.
I’ve always wanted to try this, just once! I can feel the tug on my stomach in your words!
You almost make me want to try this. Almost! I could never get over my fear of heights. So thank you for sharing the thrilling feeling of weightlessness with us!
I would love to bungee jump, but a makeshift platform?!? I’m out! You are brave, Shaun!
Wow! You are brave! Not me! I’ll just watch from the sidelines, thank you very much!
I loved the last line: Thrilling. Seemingly endless. Yes!
I love the image this poem invokes, encouraging me alongside the speaker!
PADDLEBOARDING, BECOMING A WATER STRIDER
Last summer, dawn’s placid water,
I watched a small figure slip,
as if an apparition,
with staff in hand, she glided
silently o’er the water,
gazing into the sunrise.
In occasional slow sweeps
her staff dipped without a wake —
like a swan at water’s edge;
a slender board ‘neath her feet
held her atop the water —
a water strider.
For an hour she skimmed
into then out of my view,
leaving me with a whisper,
a mindworm left to tempt me
someday to give it a try,
drift like leaves on the water.
Last week and a year later
I stepped, wobbly and unsure
from the safety of the dock,
yet clinging to its known-ness;
the board ‘neath me so foreign,
could I let go and do this?
Panicky questions taunted:
too old, strong enough, can I?
A wave of uncertainty.
Silly! It’s only water!
Loosen up and just try it!
So wanting this, I let go.
First try, I beached on the board,
slapped down, no trace of grace;
again, I’ll try it again.
Try two, resolve on the wane,
much worse, I choked on a gulp,
doused and nearly defeated.
Seventy reasons pushed me —
my years – they’d not hold me bound
to live tethered to defeat.
Back on the board, determined,
legs planted, paddle in hand,
one glide, all my years melted,
I exhaled all of my doubts,
quieted all the demons,
looked out across the water;
my inner voices muted,
as mind gave way to my heart,
I am a water strider.
by Susie Morice
You tell the story with elegance. I felt the peace and the tension. Lovely.
Your piece is languid, fluid, peaceful – all resonate with the idea of paddle boarding. From the lovely kenning (water strider) to the sensory details of “leaving me with a whisper” and “drift like leaves on water,” you make me convinced to try. I love the stanza that begins with seventy reasons. The writing this week is embracing age so gracefully and ever so gratefully.
Jennifer — You’ve taught me a new word. I’d never used “kenning” before, and it is such a dandy word. Thank you for that tidbit! I always learn so much with these responses and writing challenges! Susie
Wow, Susie! This poem has so much going for it. The story is fascinating. I love that you saw her, pondered quite a while, then went for it, and achieved it. Good for you!
Your language is striking. I got the impression you thought long and hard about the perfect words. I think you found them. Your imagery is perfect.
Susie,
The inner thoughts, the whispers of doubt held me in this moment of you convincing yourself to “let go” and to push aside ideas of “grace” toward the moment you “glide, all my years melted.” We do need to move into every adversity with these phrases, I think. Lovely poem, Water Strider.
Sarah
Susie, this part right here:
For an hour she skimmed
into then out of my view,
leaving me with a whisper,
a mindworm left to tempt me
someday to give it a try,
drift like leaves on the water
was my favorite – I love the idea of a mindworm. This word and concept makes me want to write a poem about mindworms. You have put a new word in my path today and I’m sure to chew on it for days, weeks, months as it inches around in my brain. Love the mood, the tranquility, my own paddle board memories of ungraceful falls and then successful strides. Beautiful!
Beautiful poem. It completely drew me in
Susie, I look forward to reading g every poem you write. I’ve wanted to try paddle boarding and feel as though I have a little more sense of the challenges from reading your poem. L love the alliterative /s/ in slow, sweep, staff, swan. Indeed, the /s/ is prevalent throughout the poem and dots the surface preparing us to water stride, too. At other times the hard sounds (back, board, determined) remind us of the difficult balance you need to stride across the surface.
Forgot to write yesterday
Today I created this
Not perfect, taking chances
Yes! This is simple Perfection!
Love it! You’ve captured all the feelings of risk here.
Trisha — I’m glad you wrote today. The chance paid off. Way to go! Susie
But, you see, it is perfect
Today is a brand new day
Taking chances is our goal!
I’m so glad you took the chance. I think it’s pretty perfect, though!
And, it is perfect!!
Watching three of my students
perform in another town,
I realized we’re missing out.
Deep breath in. You can do it.
See the superintendent.
He’s not scary. Deep breath out.
Deep breath in. “We are missing
a student population.
It goes unrepresented.”
“Drama, Theatre, Acting,
We need to build a program.
I will do it.” Deep breath out.
Before I can stop speaking,
his hands are holding two scripts.
Eyes shine. “I have been waiting.”
NJ, I posted on FB a few weeks ago, a question about drama in our schools. I wondered if English teachers had any training in drama as part of their teacher programs. I wondered how many took on the production of a play and if so, how/if they were paid. I wondered how the dramatic arts fit into our education of students’ reading and writing lives. You seem to be answering many of my questions in this piece. The lines “we need to build a program” and ” I have been waiting” show how important “drama, theatre, acting” are to our understanding of the word but also how our bodies utter and become these words. Thank you for this!
I did not have any drama training other than being a part of it as a student. However, I did test out and get the certification. My district allowed me to revive a ten years dead program with one Stagecraft class of nine and two dozen other students. This is our third year. We are excited to be doing High School Musical Jr. in October with a cast of 40 strong. The Arts are worth every second of the 120+ hours of after school rehearsal we put into each show. In my opinion, there is no more well rounded (and well rounding) experience that a student can participate in!
Your last line says it all. Eyes shine. “I have been waiting” the anticipation leaps with those words!
Way to go, NJ! Taking on a drama/theatre program is no small feat! You are a warrior! Kids will find new ways of being in your school, and that is enormous. How lucky for the students and for you. I took on directing a couple school musicals, and holy-mama it was a daunting task — yet, I absolutely LOVED every bit of it. It opened up so many kids to such fun and accomplishment. The arts… they change us in deep forever-after, glorious ways. You will change lives! Thanks, Susie
I LOVE EVERY SINGLE SECOND! ❤
NJ, I concur with other responders whose say their work experiences resonate with the one you write about so tersely. The brevity captures the breath holding most feel when starting a ne adventure we know will be a challenge.
Hmm…two poems in as many days about breathing…
Thank you so much for speaking out for and advocating for your students. They are lucky to have you and your passion for theater. I love how you’ve shown we are often so fearful of something we need not be.
Haha! This summer I played with my Samsung Health app. It had me focusing on breathing. I guess I’m hung up on it. ?
NJ, Bravo for breathing new life into your school’s dormant drama program. I know first-hand the challenges and rewards of directing. It’s the most nerve-wracking activity in any school, but it’s also immensely rewarding to watch the meeting of self and literature in theatrical performance. Now, break a leg!
The tension I feel here of yearning and wanting, nervousness and excitement. I love how you bring the reader on a journey of emotions through this. And the joy at in the ending. It’s there for everyone involved and I LOVE that!
Eleven Seven-Syllable Trios
director, ringer for choirs
she built a tech company
decides, defines She: Cathy
swim coach, strokes, times, life for teens
desert dawn lanes for seniors
resists the pants-sleeves life: Chris
canine entrepreneur
training owners to trust pups
traded concrete for sand: Sue
wish I could say more of him
this one hikes many high trails
heals trauma with distance: Tom
builder of all things until
death calls him to nurture, too
widower rebuilds: Joseph
18 wheel Indy driver
serving recycled plastics
loves deeply, sweetest one: Mary
work wellness trainer-guru
LLC-bound with a book
dreams deeply, Self-help(er): Jul
philanthropist first, sales second
serving hospitals, moms, dogs
lives to give, generous: Lib
what would these ten say of Her
partner, teacher, or poet
healing trauma: Bibliophile
accounts receivable calls
serving blended families
skilled in no’s and schedules: Jen
online teacher, vegan chef
mothers minds with books ‘n’ snacks
redoing Family: Jaime
Eleven daring to imagine better.
Every syllable, opportunity
resist, reframe, defy, define, realize
Family.
Awww… I love how you set this up. These snippets into family members serve to capture the important parts of each. There was something grounding about each trio of lines, the cataloguing of their traits, punctuated by their names.
Lovely tribute to your family. The diversity in career paths is a tribute to your parents. I can only imagine the tension as each sibling strove for independence!
Sarah — What a tribute! Each one “daring to imagine better” gives so much honor to your family, each unique member. Finding the strength in each one — gosh, what a lucky bunch to have you. The intrigue in Tom has me curiouser and curiouser as he “heals trauma with distance.” You’ve made me wonder what I might say about the members in my own big family… wondering if I could find the words of their strengths because there is so much other “stuff” in the way of my perceptions. You’ve given me something to think hard about. Thank you! Susie
I’m guessing you went in age order, thus why you didn’t safe yourself for last??
I love this. It makes me want to characterize my family in these seven syllable snippets right now. I love how the line trio of lines culminated with each target’s name.
Well, thanks a lot, Sarah! Now you’ve just given me another poem to write! I love to write limericks about my family members and coworkers, but I never thought about using the blackjack structure, so thanks for that idea. I may send you mine later, as I have 8 siblings. It’s hard to believe how different we all can be. Your sibs sound fascinating.
Sarah, I feel as though you are personally introducing each sibling to me as I walk through a receiving line. I love the specificities you ember each introduction. Thank you for allowing us to meet your fam!
REFLECTING ON CHANCES TAKEN
Marriage is taking a chance
Teaching is taking a chance
Parenting is a chance, too.
Committing to a lifetime
Committing to their lifetime
Committing as a lifeline
Staying married takes courage
Teaching years takes courage, too.
Being Mom takes a lifetime
Ah, it’s great to be married.
Ah, teaching can be a joy.
But being a Mom beats all!
Anna,
Thank you for putting alongside the interwoven yet somehow separate roles we take up, navigate, balance, merge, embody. I like the last line “Mom beats all!” because, let’s face it, some roles can be more joyful or satisfying at different points of our lives. So appreciate the parallelism in the lines that embody this flow.
Sarah
Hi, Anna — My favorite lines were the “committing” ones: “lifetime/lifetime/lifeline.” Staying married sometimes did, indeed, take courage. I worked hard at it…. oh, that it had been a better outcome. Alas. I like that you combined it with teaching, finding joy in that chance. Susie
Anna, I love your poem with the repetition of word and ideas throughout. I love your last line, too!
Love this!!
The way you give homage to each role and allowing the pattern to be spiraled throughout each trio. Very clever.
And, yes, being a mom tops all roles.
Anna, I like the analogy between the three. One of my favorite lines is “Committing as a lifeline.”
Anna, your use of repetition to emphasize what takes courage is really good.
There are many openings
at my school. You should apply.
So, I did, and got a job.
Perfect. A call to action and a response. Congrats on the job.
Zacarias, Congratulations! You know we’ll be waiting to read the next stanza. So come back, and in the poetry prompts that invite it, tell us about your new job. (Yes, I’m nosy. 🙂 )
This was 28 years ago. The speaker was a safety agent who told me that the school he worked at was hiring teachers. A lot of teachers had retired in June. So, I walked in the first day of the new academic year, was interviewed, and was hired on the spot. I taught ELA there for 16 years.
Perfect! A chance taken with success realized. I love how three lines and tell a story!
Zachariah’s, Congratulations! It’s always exciting to start a new school year in a new school. Wishing you a wonderful year.
Mo, I’ve never heard of a blackjack poem, but I’m excited to try this new form. I love your poem: the images of France, the dialogue, the way the form makes the action clip along and gives the poem cadence.
Mo, what an amazing opportunity to live like an expat in France! I love the story you told through the blackjack snippets. Sometimes we have to go away to discover what we really love. And we find what we love while we are away. Thanks for sharing that reminder.
Launching
Want to be on a launch team?
the email read. Why not try?
I thought and filled out the form.
I pressed send and forgot
entirely about it
until a few weeks later.
Solo launch. Sneak peaks. Book Mail.
Surprise giveaways. New Friends.
Live chats. Sunny. Bookish. Read.
And Kwame Alexander.
Oh, my! His words become mine,
fall into my students’ hands.
Your words sing. My soul listens.
You are made of pure music.
And Be a Star. Day and night.
Launching in Harlem, within
the place Langston Hughes once dwelled.
The epitome of cool.
Solo becomes Swing becomes
Rebound becomes Versify.
I am forever grateful.
Saying yes
to the possibilities
Is a launch all by itself.
So the copy/paste didn’t preserve the italics for Kwame’s words (which I could never claim as mine) in stanza five.
Jennifer, I was on the launch team, too, but not in Harlem. That must have been a wonderful experience. I did go to Ghana last summer with Kwame and LEAP for Ghana to set up and open a library in a remote village. That experience was life changing. I live the progression of excitement in your poem. #huglife
Oh! I wanted to go to Ghana but had a trip to Ireland already in place. I hope he goes again. That would be an incredible experience!
I believe it’s in the planning stages for next summer. I’ll keep you posted!
Jennifer, What an exciting experience for you! I like the way the blackjack form has a musicality that works w/ Solo. And that “oh my” certainly pays homage to Kwame. You must share this w/ your students whom I know will be so impressed. Well done.
Jennifer,
I so admire your willingness to connect and engage with people through and across the virtual and real spaces of community. So much in self-help and in teacher streams advocates for “saying no” and resisting too many commitments but here we see, in your verse, the possibility of “saying yes.” Love the last line and dual meaning in “is a launch all by itself.”
Sarah
Jennifer — This is quite a WOW experience. You start it so casually… hey, “why not?” And it swells into an experience that befits the term “launch.” Launching seems so perfect for walking among the shadows of Langston Hughes and Kwame Alexander. This was really quite something! Cool! Susie
This is awesome. I was on the launch team, too, and I dig into Solo like no other book ever.
I love how you applied the use of the word “launch” to your life after using it in regard to the book.
What a great experience! And I love the last stanza! Sums up the poem perfectly