Allison Berryhill is hosting February’s 5-day challenge! Allison lives in Iowa where she advises the journalism program and teaches freshman English at Atlantic High School. She is the chair of NCTE’s Public Language Awards Committee, which selects the recipients for the George Orwell and Doublespeak awards. She also serves on the board of the Iowa High School Press Association and is Publications-coordinator for the Iowa Council of Teachers of English. Her first published poem was awarded first place in the Lyrical Iowa sonnet division in 2019. Allison is also an accordion player and a wedding officiant. Follow her at @allisonberryhil for photos of #IowaSky and schoolblazing.blogspot.com for random musings.
Congratulations!
You’ve arrived at Day #3 of this month’s writing challenge!
Here is my next hint for sustaining your momentum: Be kind to yourself. Look at your poem as if it had been written by your son, or your mother, or someone you love. See the good in it. Glance past its weaknesses. Acknowledge that each poem is a tender thing, trying to say something, trying to be heard.
Allison
Inspiration
Let’s write a short poem today! William Carlos Williams’s “This Is Just To Say” is only 12 lines long. It is comprised of three four-line stanzas, and no line has more than five syllables. Yet the visual/tactile/gustatory imagery of those cold plumbs serves as one of the most recognized allusions in poetry!
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/56159/this-is-just-to-say
Process
Here are two ways to use this poem as a springboard:
1) What do you need to SAY? Here is your chance to say it. Begin with “This is just to say,” and get it said, loud and proud, or simply and softly. It’s your note.
2) The last lines of Williams’s poem ask for forgiveness, then settle back on the delicious pleasure of eating the plums that were not his. How sincere is this apology? Write 12-line non-apology to someone/something. Offer the apology, but then settle back on the pleasure derived from your offending action, as Williams seems to do.
Allison’s Poem
This is just to say
I have forgotten
your name
that was on
my roster in 2006
and which
you were probably
expecting
me to remember
Forgive me
you were once my student
my focus
Next, please?
Write
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
this is just to say
i don’t want to remember
the joy
the butterflies
your touch
it makes it to hard
maybe it’ll fade
remember?
the moments we shared
the fights we had
the love we felt
i don’t remember anymore
i remember the moment you left.
this is just to say
i dont remember,
your voice
your touch
your smile
nothing
i do remember,
the things we shared
the words we said
the moment you left
everything
This is just to say
I packed the papers into my bag
I drove them home
with every intention of reading
Your words
But I had chicken to bake
Couscous to make
And children to love
Forgive me
Your grade has not been updated
The Bachelor was on
So shallow, so vulgar, so scripted
It was delicious
The bag never left the car
I feel this poem with every part of my teacher being! Perfect!
This is just to say
I have not forgotten the pain
You inflicted
On my heart
That which
You think I have
Forgiven
Like a saint
Forgive me
For I am no saint
And I will always
Feel your slashes
I haven’t opened
The book
In years. I
Didn’t pack it.
You have
Prayed for me
Everynight
Before bed.
I shouldn’t
Feel guilt forthis:
I donot
Believe in god.
Abigail, I love the honesty and directness in your poem. Your “shouldn’t” implies a subtle “maybe I still do”–but your last two lines are declarative and direct. I like that setup/shift. The actions of not packing “the book” and “you prayed for me everynight” create a visual contrast that readies us up for the poem’s punch: the speaker asserting her own independence of thought.
This is just to say
I’ve filled the space
You left empty
With books
Full of ideas of equality
And empathy
Which you cannot
Understand
Since you don’t
Read anyway
Forgive me
But I think
I made a good trade
I love this poem! Filling the space X left with books that X would never read is a beautiful assertion of taking back your life. Also, I’m all about reading as the answer to our world’s lack of empathy, so you got me there too! Thank you for writing this gem!
This is just to say
I have a sweet tooth
For no one but you
You make me laugh
You treat me well
So why am I doubting
Myself and my brain
I like you
You like me
I don’t want to end
But scared to begin
Please say it back
Lauryl, What a beautiful capturing of love’s beginnings. I love the idea of having a sweet tooth for a PERSON. I also like how your short two-line stanza give your poem a little hopping feeling, as if you’re hesitating between each stanza before offering another shy attempt at connecting. My heart hopes you are writing about a real relationship and that it bravely hop forward!
Allison, we’ve all been there with you. I love the tone in your poem.
I used to tell my students, “I will NOT remember your names, but your faces are forever embedded in my heart. So stick out your hand and say ‘Hi, I’m ____________’ That way I can enjoy our conversation and not spend it trying to remember your name.” I told them that at the end of every year, I had to clear the files in readiness for the new group. And they understood since names are one of my teaching challenges.
I LOVE your approach to this, and I will use it from now on! It is so true! Thank you, dear Ramona!
This Is Just To Say
I watched
the first episode
of John Oliver
without you.
You probably
thought we’d
share it over
dinner.
Forgive me
the world is in
shambles and
he gives me hope
HAHAHAH! Oh, Lauren, I GET this! “The world is in shambles and he gives me hope” is both rhythmically and mentally satisfying! I love how you turned a moment of your evening into a poem and managed to address relationship loyalty (hey, I didn’t wait…) and this crazy political world in one short poem! I’m so glad to see you here this week! I love your way with words.
I try to make at least one day of the challenge, and this is a really wonderful prompt!
This is just to say
(to “Reviewer 2”)
I read your
comments
with the same
critical eye
that you used
on my paper
when you
read “generously.”
Forgive me,
but I think
you need to
do more research.
Chris,
What’s is “read generously” anyway? Sounds like skimming. I love your response to this reviewer. “I think you need to do more research”!
Oh, how good it is to be reminded of how unhelpful feedback feels. You’ve captured that bitter taste that is left when the writing has been smothered by an outside voice.
“Smothered by an outside voice” is a phrase I want to remember. I’m afraid I did this in a few writing conferences today.
Chris, this is wonderful! I’m so glad you checked in for at least one day of the challenge (but the best two are yet to come–so check in again tomorrow)! Those of us who offer up–sacrifice?–our writing for publication feel the power of your poem. I love that you have addressed this to “Reviewer 2”–what an ass! I appreciate the struggle your poem proposes: How/when to we accept/dismiss criticism of our work?
Apology Poem by Seana HW
This is just to say
Sometimes I get
TIRED of holding you up
a pair of feet can ONLY do so much
When they were passing out arches
in heaven, we were busy
getting bones and toenails
that’s why insoles are your besties
We like the pedicures, lotions,
elevations and cupcakes
but more salads and veggies
are what we truly crave.
Seana,
I so appreciate how you invite us to honor all the work our feet do. Gosh, you have me thinking about how I treat them…and the need for insoles is no joke!
Yes!! My feet appreciate this poem more than you know. I wore Chucks today, against doctor’s orders, just because I didn’t want to feel like I was in my teacher shoes. LOL. Soooo true, we need to give our feet what they deserve and crave, salads and veggies. I think you should try this with your students.
I’m so thankful you are here with us. Love your perspectives and your poetry.?
I love the middle stanza. It made me smile to envision an assembly line of body parts lol. This was a delight to read and a great reminder!
Oh, Seana,
This poem was a treat! I love how you took on the voice/perspective of the feet. Your riff on arches (vs. toenails and bones) was LOL clever! Each line was its own riot!
This is just to say
I turned up the heat
by two degrees
because the chilled air
gave me shivers
And which probably
made you sweaty
and flushed
wondering why
Forgive me
three layers
of clothes were
already enough
Aimee— the thermometer battle is an old one. And can be done quietly, in hopes that the other doesn’t notice for awhile! Loved the reasoning at the end!
Chilled…shivers / sweaty…flushed. I love the contracts here! Great non-apology: enough already! I’m the one in my house turning up the thermometer! <3
A battle of the ages. You’ve captured it perfectly! Another Oak Forestian?!? (If that’s the word) What a small world!
*Today’s poem was written from the doctor’s waiting room. Maybe writing will help me feel better!
This is just to say
you were a good kitchen.
You worked hard for us-
entertaining so many people these last
twenty years.
Letting so many gather around
your tiny island
for sustenance and love.
But now it’s time to let you go,
to put your laminate countertops to rest
and make room
for the kitchen of my dreams.
AMEN! There is nothing like the kitchen you REALLY want! Sayonara old “laminate” and bring on the “dreams.” Mo, you’re sounding better today…hope you could shake off that nasty bug you had. It is interesting to think about the room where most American families spend most of their time…the kitchen. It is a place of memories. Your poem made me think of the kitchen of a huge family I knew well when I was in college…I think they had 9 kids…they had a church pew in their kitchen! The dad of that family used to say something to the effect of “Life is in the kitchen.” Love your sweet dreams! Susie
Yay!!! Get that kitchen going! Truly a blessing. Hope you’re feeling better soon.
Mo,
How exciting! Congratulations on getting “the kitchen of [your] dreams. Can’t wait to see the photos. I bet your old kitchen has some stories to tell!
Mo,
I hope you are on the mend and your kitchen, too. I love how the apostrophe/direct address in this makes Kitchen sound like a valued family member who might also like an upgrade from the laminate gown it has been wearing all these years!
Peace,
Sarah
Oh, goodness. The bitter with the sweet. I get this…right in my heart.
Ohhhh! That’s exciting! I can still feel a bit sad about losing the kitchen we grew up with (70’s gold colored laminate and all). There’s a lot of memories connected in that central room. I can feel your positive energy about this transition through your writing!
Hi, fellow Oak Forest writer! This makes me wish I could also redo my kitchen. I love how you are thankful before moving on to new things.
Hope you feel better, Mo! If the medicine doesn’t have you feeling snappy, the new kitchen will. It’s the heart of the home – enjoy the new look!
I am GRINNING! I love how you wrote to your kitchen (at first I thought it said “kitten”–which would have been a very different poem!). This reminds me of Marie Kondo: appreciate that kitchen, thank it, then let it go! I love that island around which so many gathered for “sustenance and love”!
I love it!! It is always time to get what you truly want. I loved “tiny island of sustenance and love “
So excited that the kitchen of your dreams is imminent and that you took the time to thank the kitchen that served you so well. Redoing our kitchen was my first big project after retirement. And five years later, I still love it.
I have not yet
taken down
the small Christmas tree
in the living room
which most people
would probably have
removed
months ago.
Forgive me.
It’s been a rough
couple months
and I have been busy.
Pam, your poem made me want to hug you. I love it. It’s honest and real! Heck, leave it up til December (if it’s artificial) and when Christmas comes, you have one less thing to do. But if it’s a live tree, love on it as long as you can. I hope your next couple of months are better. ?
Pam, we do what we can, right? My mom always used to say. “Don’t sweat the small stuff!” The tree will get down eventually.
I may just print this out and put it with my decorations so that each year, if I hit a busier time, I can pull this out and stick it in a frame by the tree and be forgiven. Pam, this is something we can certainly all appreciate. It’s a Late Tree Masterpiece!
Pam,
We still have the lights on the house! I’m sorry “It’s been a tough couple months” and hope that tree has lightened the load,
There needs to be a book about teachers and when the tree finally comes down. I’ve known teachers to keep a tree up til end of the year due to the busy-ness! Your poem made me laugh a bit and understand a lot and even more grateful that you are doing the more important work.
I feel your fatigue here. I sometimes wonder why we bother to put it up when it’s just coming down again. But you’ve also been able to enjoy the tree for all this time!
One year I left up a large tree until March! You can only do what you can do! I love the flow of your lines
Pam, I am sure that in the time it took to write this poem, you could have put your little tree away. Luckily for us, you have your priorities straight and know that writing with/for people who care about you and your words is far more important than some imaginary deadline for putting away holiday ornaments! THANK you for this treat of a poem, reminding all of us to be gentle with ourselves.
I hope you’re still enjoying the lights. I’m always cheered by seeing trees still up. It makes me happy. I love my white lights on the deck every year until the arrival of daytlight savings time.
Take good care of you as you weather your rough/busy time. Trees can wait.
THIS IS JUST TO SAY
After years and years of being kind
working hard, guiding kids,
solid faith in church and choir,
this is just to say
so sorry that you noticed not,
opted to pray away
with judgments, gospels cherry-picked,
for all the ways astray I fell;
instead of speaking your own words,
sent bible verses in the mail.
This is just to say,
on faerie feet I’ll dance and sing my happy self to hell.
by Susie Morice ©
Whew, it never ceases to amaze me how people can “cherry pick” their gospels and judgements to share but never deal with the LOG in their own eyes. What a coward to send “bible verses in the mail” but then again, how can anyone expect to be heard if they don’t use their words. I love with my whole heart “on faerie feet I’ll dance and sing my happy self to hell.”
BOOM!!!
Susie, I love your reference to “gospels cherry-picked,” which is a pet peeve of mine. I love how you’ve inverted the word order, which to me, somehow elevates the tone of the poem. That being said, your ending is a wonderful way to stick it to the judgmental person- the image of faerie feet is fantastic. This is a wonderful sorry-not sorry poem. And even though you are going to hell, I kind of want to hang out with you!
LOL! Mo, you’ve got me laughing here. Yeah, baby, come hang out with me! Bring popsicles! HA! Susie
Susie, those holier-than-thous that have condemned all the rest of us to hell because we didn’t see eye to eye with their self-imposed theology will NOT be having cake with all of us and Susan B. Anthony – wherever we end up. That cake is for US. I’m so sorry that the cherry-pickers and their esteemed views have treated you this way. That speaks more about THEM than about YOU. I love your rhyme and your faerie feet! That’s some great imagery right there, my friend.
HAHAHAHA! I love the connections here! Let me eat cake! I’m dancin’ with ya’ll!
And my favorite line is the last—on faerie feet I’ll dance and sing my happy self to hell. I know the people who push you there…gospels cherry picked is everything that makes me crazy about “church people”. (Not all of them…)
Susie,
I love your spirit and am dancing “on faerie feet” too! We’ll have a party on the other side! I love what Twain said: “I’ll take heaven for the weather and hell for society.” My favorite parts are those inversions in the second stanza: “you noticed not,” and “ways astray I fell;” I see the clever turn there.
What I love about this poem is the huge amount that is not said — but we know. The wheelbarrow full of judgement. I have a loved one that send me –not kidding — political articles in the Valentines Day card to my family. I used to be heart broken over the impossibility of acceptance by this loved one. I’m learning to dance on faerie feet. I love this poem for that too.
Sing yourself to hell indeed! We will all come with you. I love the inverted word order in your lines (you noticed not, astray I fell) – it adds a wisdom. Faerie feet and gospels cherry-picked are wonderful phrasings.
Susie, This is a gem! I love how you rhymed your last two stanzas to give an extra punch to “hell.” And the liberty you took to use “This is just to say” where you needed it echoed the liberation of your poem! I’m cheering you (on your faerie feet!) as you dance and sing, flying free of the cherry-picked gospels sent in the mail: SOOOO good! I am glad you used this poem as an opportunity to SAY this. I hope “they” heard it.
Allison, your prompts are ?! These poems are blasting a smile to my face and I’m loving the tone and take of everyone’s writing.
This is just to say
Board diving the
Extreme sport
Defined me
As too strong
Tight muscles for a girl
Chlorine in my long hair
Always wearing those
Basketball shorts for boys
Forgive me
They were so comfortable
So easy
And so roomy
Hey Emily! Sorry I missed last night’s post. Going back to read and comment.
I love this poem today because it reminds me so much of my daughter. Being comfy in those “basketball shorts for boys” is a statement to your being comfortable in your own skin. Love it!
Emily,
Look at sassy you! I love the image of you in those shorts! Reminds me of advice my grandma gave me: If you’ve got it. Flaunt it.
You
go
GIRL!
You do you….and love how the speaker in this poem agrees with me. No forgiveness needed here.
Thank you, Emily! You are adding volume to the chorus! I love how these unapologetic poems are lifting me up as I read them! I hear a transformation in your poem as you move from what defined you to what was comfortable…so easy..and so roomy. Love that last word: roomy. Even its sound is a cushion.
Apologia
By Shaun Ingalls
I didn’t walk you
This evening
Like normal
Sometimes I won’t
That’s life
Deal with it
You can keep staring
At me with those
Piercing brown eyes
And disheveled beard
But I will not move
Uncomfortable
Shaun,
The honest conversations we have with our pets often make me wonder if we will ever know what they really think. Love the piercing brown eyes/And disheveled beard because in all the strength of your saying “deal with it” you still feel that love in those eyes.
Shaun,
I like the idea of (not) apologizing to our pets. It makes me think of how often humans converse more vulnerably with their animals than their family/friends. Is this a fault or strength of our species??? Thank you for your poem today.
Shaun — I’ve sure felt that same way. You really captured that sense of critter guilt…”staring/at me with those/piercing … eyes.” I chuckled at the “I will not move,” knowing that my own dog doesn’t give up easily… nudge, nudge, nudge. Run poem! Thanks! Susie
Shaun,
As one dog lover to another, O know the guilt you feel! Wonderful title, too. “Apologia” is one of my favorite words for its deep, nuanced meaning. Favorite lines: “ Piercing brown eyes / And disheveled beard. And as I’m commenting, Snug is begging for a walk! ?
I feel this! Love the image of your pup
Oh, Sean, this poem does what I love poems to do: it made me think, smile, and wonder. That last word “uncomfortable” stands alone, and I wonder if it is describing you, your dog, or the standoff! I also love the tone in “deal with it” and how you describe the dog’s disheveled beard. This poem is packed with imagery, story, and attitude!
Your poem reminded me of a conversation I had years ago with my daughters. The words “sometimes i won’t, deal with it, that’s life” I love those words. We all have the power to say No and I love the way you said it.
I love this so much, mainly because as I sit here with my laptop in bed, my dog is giving me his big brown puppy dog eyes. And we just went outside! I often credit my dog to the reason I get out of bed in the morning, and without him I’d never be on time. Still, his soft whines to go out are sometimes so hard to be responsible for. Great poem!
Allison, I love your poem because any of us who’ve been teaching more than 15 years (at least) know the frustration of knowing a person so well for 180 days and then to forget their precious names later. Oh well, next! LOL I love that ending. There’ll be sooo many more.
Thank you for today’s prompt. I needed to get that one off my chest. Tired of feeling guilty for not feeling sorry.
This is just to say
I DON’T call you much
WE don’t send cards
Your name isn’t on ONE
NOTHING says family
You NEVER were though
My DAD was your love
We were just HIS kids
Wanting a STEPmom
Who never stepped to US
Sorry YOU’RE ALONE
Maybe he knew YOU
Would give us NOTHING
Stacey,
The anger and resentment in this brief poem shouts through the words! Your use of all caps really helps to emphasize the key ideas.
I love the line “Who never stepped to US.”
Your raw emotions definitely show through.
Stacey,
I love this slap in the face poem. Maybe it could be made into a Hallmark card? I resonate with this poem on various levels having multiple step-parents. I love the emphasis/caps and the line: nothing says family.
Sorry, not sorry!
I love the Hallmark card idea! We should all write “Hallmark Cards That Will Never Be Written”! Sorry, not sorry says it all!
What I’d give to hear your read this out loud! I’m loving the tone of your poem and the way it rolls aggressively off the tongue as you read it.
“ Wanting a STEPmom
Who never stepped to US”
These lines were so powerful. It must of felt like a release to write this out.
Bam! This one has such strong voice. Stacey, you really drove the nail in this coffin, and I loved the intensity of it. Dang, with so few words you did so much. And how apt that someone who gave so little to you should not require many words to hammer the point. Dandy! Really dandy! Well executed, Stacey! Thanks! Susie
Oh, girl, I hear that tone of sheer satisfaction in the stick-it-to-her words. It all comes out in the wash, somehow, doesn’t it?
Stacey,
Ouch! Sorry not sorry rings through this biting poem. I feel you. I had a stepmom, too. She “Never stepped to US,” my sister and me. The phrasing here is so clever.
I love the play on step in the line “who never stepped to US.” The separation between her and you is so powerfully written. It’s interesting to scan through the capitalized words only – they speak volumes.
I write my comments on poems before I read others’ comments as a way of keeping my own perspective fresh. It’s fun to see how sometimes readers zero in on different phrases, and sometimes we gravitate to the same ones! I LOVE reading the poems with all of you!
Stacey, I love it when a poem helps me say something I needed to express. I’m glad if today’s prompt led you to this. Your voice is still hurting (“who never stepped to US”), and I’m sorry. But I hope writing this poem gave you a sense of breaking free. I feel the speaker forgiving herself, and that feels powerful and very right. Let’s go dancing now and eat cake!
Stacey,
how are you so often in my head and heart? I with I could sent this poem to my stepmom along with some other choice words. Thank you for your anger! We need to see it and it helps the rest of us to get in touch with our own. BRAVO my sister friend.
I know many share your sentiments in this poem. It breaths forth truth.
A Memorable Lunch
I enjoyed our lunch last week.
It was great to reminisce and speak
About family and friends we share.
Too bad more could not be there.
I enjoyed our lunch and am glad
The food really wasn’t too bad.
That coupon you brought should have bought
More menu choices than we had.
But I’m glad we had time together
Maybe next time will be some better.
Sorry I had to leave before the bill had come.
You know I had to scurry back home.
Anna — This gave me such a giggle at the end…oops…”before the bill had come.” The coupon… the “scurry”… really quite a witty poem! The tone of recapturing phrases in a conversation “food really wasn’t too bad” and “glad we had time together” and “you know I had to…” those really work. LOL! Thanks, Susie
Anna, that memorable lunch will be etched in memory for awhile, I’m sure! Food that wasn’t too bad….company that needed more……limited menu choices……yes, I’m glad you scurried out before the bill!
Hahaha! I loved the surprise at the end! It seems like such an innocent poem until you dash off and leave “her” stuck with the tab! What a great “sorry, not sorry!” story!
I love playing with rhyme in poetry. I’m glad you grabbed this prompt and felt free to use a rhyming form!
This is just to say
I am sorry for
my ignorance
for not delivering
in a inclusive way
For not listing
to that voice
which cried
so loud and clear
I am sorry
that on countless occasions
your plea
I did not hear
How deaf I was
to your needs
which were blinded
by my fear
Your teacher I was
yes, there was no question there
but how could I have known
you were burdened with despair
was I too shallow
in my attempt to care
or was I not taught to notice
things beyond the content, dear
Forgive me
for failing you, and for voicing it until today
may your journey through this life
bring you hope in every way
Oh, Melissa,
Your words resonate so deeply with me for all the students I let down, for all the hurtful words I uttered, for all the times I was silent when I should have spoken up, for all the times I made them read or write something I knew did not lift up their voices. Your rhythm of syllables and rhyme offers such a somber rhythm to this apology that it is like an elegy.
Thank you for writing an apology for me, too.
Peace,
Sarah
Melissa,
This is filled with truth and vulnerability, something WE ALL have as educators. The burdens we know some students carry become too much for us to imagine, so I know this feeling. Your words are tender, loving, and kind. Every teacher should have a poem like this to share at the end of each school year. I am certain someone would feel the apology was meant for them. Thank you!
Melissa,
I love that we could all be the teacher, the student, or even a parent in this situation. As a teacher educator I view it with a lens of “how” do we teach this? And why do we feel the guilt? We know the relationship building is so important and yet often forgotten or pushed aside. Thank you for this poem today.
Also, Belize is on my bucket list, is that your permanent location?
Melissa — After having been in the classroom for 30 years and then on to teach teachers, I have to say you captured a haunting feeling here that resonates with me. I know there were those whom I failed…and no teacher wants that to be so. I guarantee you, though, that the haunt is real whether the reality was that or not. The most moving part for me was knowing that kid “burdened with despair” slipped past. That is a ghost that teachers know too well. Thanks for this poem! Susie
Melissa, Your poem is a beautiful rendering of what we teachers carry as we consider all the ways we’ve failed to meet our students where they needed us to be. Sometimes when I consider all my missteps, I’m overcome with despair. Your poem is an honest, loving reminder that we are only human. Thank you, Melissa.
This is just to say
I prefer
the Gators
that snapped
me to center
and which
you were probably
thinking
would Miss
Forgive me
their focused form
and power made
the outfield jaunt a joy
Aww, Sarah — this is a cool piece. I love that you had this pic with the poem. Strong girls! Their “focused form…power”! Oh yeah, cool girls! What a perfect celebration! Thanks! Susie
Sarah,
I love this celebration of girls and “their focused form and power.” Love the joy you discovered in the outfield, which I see as a metaphor of the ways girls are still kept out of male-dominated sports.
Ahhhh, Sarah! I so appreciate how you use the world news around us as sparks for your poems! I loved how you used “snapped” and “Miss” and “outfield jaunt” in such pleasing ways! I’m signing up for the Gators’ fan club!
This is Just to Say
I picked up
Giver of Stars
from my
holds shelf
Knowing I
couldn’t squeeze
it in before its
Feb 28 due date
Scheming to keep
it longer
and just
pay the fine.
Apologizing to
my KCLS book friends
waiting patiently
in line
Returning the book
today and getting
back in line
I’m #499
What?!? #499 on the wait list? I have also tried to squeeze in books before due dates and am currently waiting patiently for one (book club is next week) so I can completely relate to this – the scheming, the squeezing, the apologizing.
Not quite as bad as it sounds. They have 164 copies!
I love this. I refuse to buy the “best sellers” because they are in demand and will wait to read them or when someone gives it to me; on the other hand, I will buy the YA or middle grade novel if I am desperate to give it to a student. Still, I love how your conscience gets the best of you. You are my kind of girl. Any chance you were raised Catholic (intended to be funny because I am and we joke about Catholic guilt, not intended to be insulting – but it is hard to be funny in a text box).
https://www.amazon.com/Giver-Stars-Novel-Jojo-Moyes/dp/0399562486
Not Catholic guilt, just a Mormon gal who grew up in the Bible belt Oklahoma. Thanks for putting a link to the book. The older I get, the fewer books I buy because they are just one more thing I’ll need to get rid of soon. And believe me, my house is already filled with books.
Ramona, I like how the speaker kind of initiates their own punishment and playfully rhymes while doing so, “back in line / I’m #499” – I chuckled!
So relatable! I feel like I’m always in this position with my local library. ??♀️
Thank you for this wonderful writing that so beautifully describes the agony of our library woes!
Ramona, your poem is oh so true for so many of us who borrow books from the library and just hope, against hope we have time to read them before the due date.
I know our local libraries seem to be ordering fewer copies so the wait for popular books is longer. I, too, feel guilty keeping books out past due dates knowing how I feel when I’m waiting.
THANKS A LOT!!!! Now I feel guiltier still. 🙂
Ha! This made my librarian heart cry a little…even though it is a tiny bit funny too. The speaker’s library needs some more copies of this spectacular book!
Ramona,
No! #499! This makes me want to buy that book for you and send it your way. Such is the pain of waiting to read, of being forced into a schedule.
I am tickled by the may directions poets went with this prompt, especially in form. I love how you turn to rhyne in your final three stanzas, settling into a pattern that gives “#499” its punch!
This poem feels like the opposite of a non-apology. At first, you were trying to beat the system, then you apologized and got back in line! I love being there with you through this oh-so-human slice of life!
I laughed out loud because this is so me! I go to pick up holds, and somehow “on my way” to the desk, end up picking up 12 more books. “Just pay the fine” – I have tried to convince myself so many times that I can read a book before its due date. You’ve portrayed this feeling with so much humor!
This is just to say
I’m sorry I tracked mud
Onto the clean carpet
You just vacuumed
You are probably
Irritated, annoyed, wondering
Why I’d do such a thing
I am just a dog, excited to romp, play,
Roll on my back, paws in the air
Now rub my belly and pat my head.
Let me lick your face,
Something you don’t get from a rug.
No matter how soft .
—Glenda Funk
Ha! Love that it’s in the dog’s voice. Wonderful ending too!
Oh, so true! I would gladly take our dog over the cleaned carpet (no matter how soft!). Love the dog’s voice here – the irritated, annoyed, wondering rhythm waggling back and forth like a tail. “I am just a dog” – perfection.
Yeah, right, pup! I see what you are doing…with those puppy eyes!
Nothing sweeter than hearing the love of your dog. I’m sure he knows you’re accepting his sincere apology. I love “Let me lick your face, Something you don’t get from a rug.” Puts it all in perspective. I will stop fussing at my cat today, thanks to you and your doggy! Love it.
Funny! I hadn’t read yours when I wrote my apology to my dog. I wanted to keep it light today as you did!
We like to think that our pets would actually feel sorry for their behavior – I know mine is just faking it!
Glenda — I totally loved this. This could so easily have been Watty with his muddy paws this morning. Geez…what a mess. The doggy voice just made me giggle. I should’ve written about the dog! Maybe next time. Favorite line: “lick your face,/something you don’t get from a rug/no matter how soft.” Indeed! Thanks for giving me this smile. Susie
OH! This was another audible-response poem for me! (My husband wonders why I keep howling out loud while reading poems!) The idea that a rug can not give us what our pets can is utterly original, surprising, and spot-on.
I loved how as a reader I did not know the speaker was a dog until the 8th line. I also love how–despite the apology–he says “now rub my belly” knowing he has already been forgiven!
<3 <3 <3
Such a cool poem. At first I thought the persona was a child. You got me there!
I really love that you’re writing in the dog’s voice! To pet owners, I think this is a familiar experience. As puppies, our pets are often destructive and goofy. Into adulthood, the messes seem more haphazardly. Whenever my boy gets in trouble, he knows the way to his momma’s heart is just a hop and wet kiss away.
Allison,
Your poem is brilliant and so true. I always feel guilty about not remembering names of former students, even those whose hair is now as gray as mine. “You were once my student and focus.” Yes! This is what was, not what is.
Thank you for getting me, Glenda. What was, not what is. I have to move on if I am going to give the next students the same sense of value. I simply cannot keep 3000 students in my front and center. I have to give that front and center to the 100 I have this year.
You stole the
Last Peep
I had hidden
Below the crackers
Which had reached
the perfect
Peak of
Stale and soft
I cannot
Forgive you.
It was my
Last Peep
Ahhh! The squirreling away of treats! And the audacity of finding them gone! I can connect with this. This is me! I have done both the hiding and the discovering (and, if I’m honest, the eating).
Unforgivable! I feel this way when my kids think what is mine is theirs. I love the sensory detail of “the perfect Peak of Stake and soft.” Terrific alliteration!
“Which had reached
the perfect
Peak of
Stale and soft”
is such a perfect description that I can certainly relate to.
Gayle — I and I’m sure my nieces would also be laughing out loud. Peeps are truly one of the funniest oddball things ever invented. I loved “reached/the/perfect/peak of/stale and soft” and of course, forgive…heck no! LOL! Totally fun! Susie
Peeps are best served stale. You are so right. I love it that I also find it funny. Stealing a peep is almost a felony, after all. ?
Gayle,
?This cracked me up. “The perfect peak of stale and soft” is not easy to attain. It requires a perfect sense of timing and weather.
Gayle, I am laughing out loud! There is the perfect peak of stale and soft! I KNOW that! I also know the incredible feeling of LOSS (yes, LOSS) when someone ate something I was planning to eat myself! I am just delighted that you turned this prompt on its head and decided NOT to forgive someone who owes YOU an apology! <3!
This is Just to Say
I didn’t buy you
A Valentine’s Day
gift from
The school fundraiser
You think
You are
The only one Who
didn’t get a gift.
I’m sorry
I hurt your feelings.
But I love you
More than that.
Ha! Love the story in this…the But I love you More than that is great. Those fundraisers make me a little crazy after four kids AND working in a school.
Jolie, this looks like double guilt to me. No candy and no support of the school fundraiser! Or is it because the one you love deserves a better quality candy than what was being sold in the fundraiser?
Hmmm. Do you think that rationale will work?
Jolie,
There’s a perfect irony at work in this poem: “a gift from the school fundraiser” isn’t really a gift, is it? I know the agony of being asked to purchase multiples of those things over the years. “I love you more than that” drives the point home. ?
Dear Jolie, I love your poem! You managed to blend love, school fundraisers, and self-pity into one gem of a poem! Your poem makes me think I need to write a poem about obligatory holidays. I’m about ready to quit them all!
(From Alley the cat’s POV)
This is just to say
I have taken your chair,
Inhabited the space
I know you were planning
to return to momentarily
Please forgive me.
It was so warm,
and my old, arthritic body so cold
as I curl luxuriously and purr.
I blink up at you…
May I stay?
Julie, the alternate perspective of a cat makes a delightful twist in this poem format! That I wasn’t expecting an apology from a cat and then to have the images of that sweet baby purring and no doubt stretching the paws and getting comfy before requesting to stay – is just purrrfect in this poem!
Love having the POV of the cat (and love her name too!). This perfectly inhabits the body of the cat – the curling and blinking and the expected taking over the space. I want to give my space to Alley too!
And the answer is— of course. I’ll sit on the hard chair over here…
Julie — I love the cat’s rule concept. I felt the “warm” chair against my old bones. Wonderful kitty piece! Susie
Julie,
My inner cat is purring. I love this poem and the image of kitty stretched across your chair. We cat people know kitty is not sorry and will judge you if you kick her off the chair. After all, she is a cat!
Oh, lovely! Of course, Alley may stay! I delight in your choice of perspective here. Your word choice gives Alley all the more reason to deserve that spot. I’m guessing you gave up your seat?
this is just to say
i should have been there
more days
you battled
that monster
when lewy body
played peek-a-boo:
cruel moments it
exposed the raw truth
unremorsefully,
it torched memories
it kidnapped joy
it robbed futures
That “I should have been there” is the worst feeling. Your piece pulls me into all my should-have-been-there’s. What a beautifully hard image (when lewy body played peek-a-boo). And the torching, kidnapping, robbing – perfectly chosen words but so, so hard. Thank you for this honest look today.
Took my breath away. Dealing with the robbery of a loved one’s person/ mind is so painful. There are so many shoulds , and they are so exhausting. Your words capture the guilt we face with perfection.
Kim, yes, I know this feeling. The “torched memories/kidnapped joy/robbed futures” and all the things that ran through my mind when it was too late. Your descriptions are short and packed with power and truth. Sending hugs. Thank you for this reminder too, do and say today what may not wait for tomorrow.
Kim,
I am so sorry that you deal with the guilt and regret of the “should have been there”s.
The lines
“when lewy body
played peek-a-boo”
are so very powerful.
To personify a vicious disease works perfectly
Disease stinks. It’s hurts so much more than the body in which it resides. You definitely captured the painful voice of that. I am sorry that you have the experience to do so.
OH, Kim, this is so touching and so so difficult. I feel for the loss…”torched memories”—it really is an up-in-raging-flames kind of loss. The “kidnapped” and “robbed” are so perfect and so awful. The toughest part is the opener…”should’ve been there”… the irrevocability of that. Makes me well up. Sending a long, loving hug. Susie
Kim, your poem expresses the regret we hoped to avoid by moving back to the midwest as our parents and family members began to age. Unfortunately, our families are from different states and we’ve still missed some. Personifying the disease as a monster makes it easy to divert our guilt to the monster. Thanks.
Kim,
Your poem haunts my own memories and fears of having memories “torched.” This “I should have been there” feeling never leaves but walks beside those who grieve. And that word “lewy” fits perfectly what happens to the bod. These ravages of time are so cruel. Sending peace and love to you.
So raw….the speaker in this poem is really hurting over the lost future with the one battling the monster.
Dear Kim, Thank you for this haunting poem. The vulnerability of your opening line “I should have been there” allows me as a reader to enter the experience with you. I share your regret, even as I want to assure you that we all do the best we can, and you did too. I hope there was healing in this poem.
We teach so many kids in the grand scheme of things. I’m right there with you, forgetting their names.
I’m taking your advice to be kind to myself.
This is Just to Say
I missed the turn
to school today
my eyes were on
the clouds
So soft and floating
like giant snowdrifts
above me in bouquets
of white roses.
Forgive me,
I’m late
my head in the clouds
dancing around in their fluff.
If only we could spend more time missing those turns by keeping our head in the clouds, inside those bouquets of white roses. How much more beautiful would our world (and we) be? Thank you for celebrating the daydreamers today.
Margaret, I love your images and your ability to get lost in their beauty and miss a turn! “I was late because the clouds were pretty!” Watching clouds is a favorite thing to do, and I love at the end when your head is dancing in the fluff. Fluff is that word that stitches it all together and holds those multiple meanings! Love it!
Margaret, your imagery is exquisite.
So soft and floating
like giant snowdrifts
above me in bouquets
of white roses.
Your ability to pair snowdrifts and white roses reminds me that spring is not far behind, or is just under the four inches of snow I can see from my window as I read your poem. I needed the promise of spring. Thanks.
Margaret,
I first read your poem this morning and have thought about it all day. I’ve missed many turns as I gave at the sky and mountains. I see you “dancing around in their fluff” with your head in the clouds dreaming up lovely poems.
Oh my, Margaret! I feel like you wrote this poem directly to me! YES! Let’s spend more time in the sky!
Your metaphors in the middle stanzas (snowdrifts, bouquets of white roses) offered such original–and contrasting–ways to experience the clouds!
This is a beautiful poem. I am going to memorize it and recite it the next time I’m late (tomorrow :-)!
Good morning, good people! The poems are piling up fast and furious this morning! YAY! I need to switch gears and get ready for school, but I’ll be back during my prep period, after school, and this evening to respond to them all! Write on, poets! I love your words! –Allison
Thank you for these inspirational prompts this week, Allison! I’m enjoying every minute of writing, reading, thinking…
Thank you, Kim! Your kind words are balm my self-doubts.
Love this! I did this with my eighth graders a number of years ago—the sarcasm was so freeing to them (and me)!
Thank you, Gayle! This is such a familiar poem, I worried people might find it stale. Yet I loved the variety and voice of the poems written today! Thank you for being here!
Allison, I appreciate your poem. Year after year, my mind loses the grip of neatly filed names that belong to former students. I recognize faces, but “next, please?”
I think I need to write a longer poem–or essay–about what it means to fully and fiercely love the students in front of you, and then to let them go (to make room for the next). I’m not sure this poem form gave me space to express the depth of emotional demands I feel as a teacher. Each year we are admonished to make connections with our students. And we do! But we then have to make room for the next ones…still working on this. <3
Allison,
This is a great inspiration for today. I need to be forced to be concise because I am always too wordy. Even though we are off school today for Presidents Day, I found myself wanting to get up to see the prompt, to get to work writing, and, more importantly, to get to reading others. Your writing challenges have really fueled me!
I love your poem. Saint Augustine once said, “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.” I’m not trying to compare us teachers to God, but I do feel like we love and invest in our students each year as if each of them is our only focus. It’s actually exhausting. Then, the next year, we start the process over again. Our minds and hearts sometimes reach a capacity, necessitating a few names to be shoved out so that we can give our all to a new crop. That’s why I love your ending . . . “Next, please?”
Oh, Susan! You HEARD me! It IS exhausting! Clearing the field for the new crop doesn’t mean we did not once truly love the “old crop”! but they can’t stay front and center once they move on.
Allison, I loved this prompt because I really love short, punchy poems. I try to write as few words as possible to get a point across. I copied this poem into my notebook…even though I know it to remind me of the line breaks and the punctuation and the flow.
A friend shared a photo of a tree reflected in a puddle and I used the puddle’s voice for this apology.
Apology From the Backyard Puddle
This is just to say
I have flooded the
the Jory soil*
in the bald patch
of our backyard
And which
you were probably
going to seed
for spring
Forgive me
the reflected winter tree
in fifth position
prima ballerina dancing
*Jory = the state soil of Oregon. It’s made up of material washed down from higher mountains.
The scientific bent of this layers this piece and the contrast against the metaphor of the winter tree, the prima ballerina dancing is beautiful. I love that it takes just a small nip at the elevated tree while celebrating it.
Farm girls know those potential seeding patches! I have read this multiple times and see different aspects each time – the bald spot stage and the ballerina imagery, the winter tree that holds images like clouds if you study them, and now I’m needing to know more about Jory soil and am wondering if it’s like diatomaceous earth or red clay like we have here in Georgia…
Yes, the only thing I can think of to describe these lines is salty and sweet. I admire the winter trees” in fifth position / prima ballerina dancing.” Thanks for teaching me a new term, “Jory.” This poem makes me smile.
Such a creative point of view and beautiful language!
Linda — I read this early this morning, and it stuck with me through the day… it is rainy here in STL. Your poem…in such few words…had the power to stick with me all day, floating in and out of the the reflections in water. Lovely. Thanks! Susie
Linda,
The image of the tree “in fifth position / prima ballerina dancing” is so beautiful and graceful. Organ is gorgeous, so I understand the source of this image. Lovely.
Linda, I have been so tickled by the poets who wrote their apologies from perspectives other than their own. Back-yard puddles wins the most-original-perspective prize!
I love how you held onto essential phrasing and linebreaks from the original poem. The challenge of fitting your own message into a tight frame is daunting, yet you worked within the constraints to give us this amazing image: reflected winter tree
in fifth position
prima ballerina dancing
This poem is a beautiful gift! It has increased my appreciation of puddles exponentially!
This Is Just To Say
I have changed
the channel
to watch what I want . . .
a chick flick
leaving you to sit there
with nothing to focus on
feeling alone
and unnoticed
Forgive me
for grabbing the remote
and taking action to actually
do what I want to do
I laughed to myself while reading this. The visual and the voice are so strong. The lines “feeling alone and unnoticed” perfectly twist the normal narrative.
Bwahahahaha, Susan! I LOVE this! I need to follow your lead and try this myself.
If only I could do in reality what I write about!!
Yes! The ultimate power move—control of the remote!
Susan — You made me laugh out loud. The clear voice that comes with “grabbing” and “taking” to “do what I want” …I really like the strength in that… and the humor of it being the eternal battle over the remote. LOL! Enjoy that “chick flick”! Susie
Susan,
You go, girl! Take back the remote! I love these little acts of rebellion against male dominance. I read this to my husband. He laughed an appreciative giggle. We share the remote, meaning I control it when I’m in the room. ?
Susan, I do not know if this poem is a retelling or a wished-for event, but I love it! I hear your voice (anger!?) and just love it. We do so much to keep our families centered, our relationships on even keel. This poem says “Enough! I’m taking the remote!” Your voice and message are inspiring!
This is mine to say
I am taking
back my voice
the one
you weren’t expecting
me to use
which you
have held
for all of
misogyny.
Don’t forgive me.
I don’t care.
Oooooh! Wow. This poem packs a punch. Very few words but direct and to the point…with the sorry-not-sorry sting.
Oh, Jennifer, this is wonderful! I love the “which you have held for all of misogyny” (eternity) wordplay. The brevity of this poem works in your favor, as the poem is blunt, like a punch. The closing lines are perfect!
Jennifer,
I think we must be friends. I love the brutal honesty here. Who has time for no voice? I love the word misogyny. It stands alone and to me kind of acts like a numbing slap after the shock of the first punch. And then the police-stopping-traffic hand : this is how it is. Just Lovely!
We are most definitely friends! We just need to find ourselves in a real space sometime too!
Whoo-wee! Strong words, and I love them. I am taking back my voice… so many things said in so few words. Bravo.
You say so much in so few words/lines. I love that this poem form encourages us to do just that. For your poem, the brevity adds such power. No excuses, no apologies . . . just a bold declaration.
???
“I don’t care.”
Mic drop ending over here. The brevity of this poem adds to the drama and aggressive attitude. Your word choice demands attention and respect. What an inspiration. I’m so glad I read this before starting my day!
Jennifer,
Way to channel your inner Helen Reddy: “I am woman. Hear me roar.” We loud mouth women who raise our voices must stick together. Bravo! “I am taking back my voice” should be our mantra, and we really shouldn’t care what the patriarchy thinks.
This is brilliant! I love the final “I don’t care,” and “you weren’t expecting me to use” resonates so deeply in me!
Isn’t this the truth? There are numerous students who make their way past us and time jumbles them all up. I want to remember the names of each and every one of them. Why is it so hard?
Jennifer, thank you. I’ve come to realize that one of the reasons students remember me is because when they were “mine,” they were the center of my universe. But each year there is a new center, and to give all to the next group, I let go of the previous one. I am disappointed in myself, however, when an old student looks at me like “How could you forget me? I thought I mattered!” and I stammer for a name. You did matter, child, and you do. But the next one does too. Hard.
Truth. You know what I usually CAN remember? Where they sat! The names don’t stick, but the seating does. I am always so relieved when there is a name tag to read…
This is just to say…
I own the silver
Highlights and
Facial fuzz
Stories from wrinkles
Enjoyed laughter
Causing creases
Stretched skin over
My belly button
And new dimples
Forgive me for full-
Filling a life, owning
My body as it is
Oh YESSSS! I love every inch of this! I’m all about loving my aging body, and you did it here with sprinkles of alliteration and sassy imagery! We need to tell Stacey Joy that an “ass…all bagged up like cotton balls” is in fact new dimples! Thank you for singing my song!
Oh, yeah! Me too! I try to keep healthy….but that natural aging needs to be OK in our world. I’m going to remain all natural as long as possible. But, I do feel the temptation of that “little box of color” when I see my “pretty” friends and colleagues. I love the permission this poem gives.
Stefani,
Bravo! To unapologetically accept and own your body for all that it is and all that you have experienced to make it what it is . . .
I love it all, but I especially love:
“Stories from wrinkles
Enjoyed laughter
Causing creases”
Thank you for reminding us to love ourselves. We’ve earned it! I love the play on “full-filling.” Stories from wrinkles is such a beautiful way of celebrating ourselves.
Okay, I’m
Posting this one
In my bathroom
Over my mirror
Near my scale.
Forgive me, too
For the fulfillment.
This is awesome!
Thanks, Stefani!
Stefani—preach! Stories from wrinkles, enjoyed laughter, causing creases. What a great reason for the history that becomes our face. Your last line is perfect. Owning my body as it is…
Stefani, as the rare male to respond to these gems, I can identify. The descriptions are slightly different, but I too need to own the results of “full-filling a life” (but in a different way). I love the image of the laugh lines. Never lose those!
Stefani,
This is such an empowering nod to aging women and our imperfect, perfect bodies. Love the images: “silver Highlights and facial fuzz” is so true as is the “stretched skin” and laugh lines. These are signs of life worth celebrating, and you do this spectacularly.