Liberation and Joy with Stacey L. Joy
Welcome to Day 13 of Verselove. We are so happy you are here, however you choose to be present. If you know what to do, carry on; if you are not sure, begin by reading the inspiration and mentor poem, then scroll to the comment section to post your poem. Please respond to at least three other poets in celebration of words, phrases, ideas, and craft that speak to you. Click here for more information on the Verselove. Share a highlight from your experiences thus far here.
Stacey L. Joy is a National Board Certified Teacher, Google Certified Educator, L.A. County and LAUSD Teacher of the Year with 37 years of elementary classroom teaching experience. Teaching her Joyteam scholars the power of knowledge, self-advocacy and justice are at the core of her practice. Stacey has served as a partner and guiding teacher for graduate students in the U.C.L.A. Teacher Education Program. Stacey is a poet at heart with one self-published book and several poems published in various anthologies. Follow Stacey on Twitter @joyteamstars.
Inspiration
The Gogyohka is a form of verse developed by poet Enta Kusakabe in 1957. The idea behind the Gogyohka was to take the traditional form of Tanka poetry (which is written in five lines with 5-7-5-7-7 syllable counts) and liberate its structure, creating a freer form of verse. In the 1990s, Kusakabe began his efforts to spread Gogyohka as a new movement in poetry, and there are now around half a million people writing this form of verse in Japan.
Process
Let’s write one (5-line free form poem) or as many Gogyohka poems as you choose. Take a few minutes to focus on liberation and joy. Think of what may bring you joy, what liberates you, or what liberation and joy mean. You might also choose to be inspired by a poem about liberation or joy.
Langston Hughes’ poem, Our Land, inspired my poem.
Stacey’s Poem
Joy and Liberation
Oh, if this land had the same amount of joy
as popsicle-stained cheeks
and sisters giggling in summer sun,
Earth could unclench her fists
and smile with rainbows.
Oh, if this body could be liberated
on kite string
or butterfly wings,
it would stand naked
in the mirror and shout, “I am free!”
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. 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.
Also, in the spirit of reciprocity, please respond to at least three other poets today.
Summer
The warm sun on our skin
Sitting by the pool
Not a worry in the world
Take the boat out for the day
Sun kissed for the season
Thanks for sharing Stacey,
As I think about my life the things that brings me joy
seeing the smile on my daughters face
knowing that I am making a difference
seeking ways to create opportunities for marginalize students
highlighting education as liberation
I love the simplicity and impact you have provided in this poem by simply describing what brings you joy.
Northern Hike
The trail begins as a wide path
Narrowing after a few miles pass
Trees towering high above
The rain begins and we run
Nature frees us with a false sense of security
Ella, “Nature frees us” is a beautiful line that speaks volumes. The depth in your words are amazing
Joy thoughts
By Derek
Opportunity brings joy
When presented with it, I elevate
Years of envisioning my future
It comes to fruition, I gravitate
Are years of hard work creating my new reality?
Thank you for sharing your piece! I love the questioning power it holds!
Derek, I love how you took us through the story of your joy. It is so relevant and true!
Stacey,
This is late, but I am not going to miss a day – I promised myself. So, your poem inspired me to focus on joy. How important it is and how it surrounds us, but we fail to notice sometimes. The joy of “popsicle-stained cheeks” is universal!
Joy
By Shaun
Is it more fun for the kids to search the house,
Looking for rainbow-colored plastic eggs
Filled with chocolate and jellybeans?
Or is it more fun for me,
Sneaking around the house in the early dawn light, hiding them?
Beautiful poem! You captured the energy of Easter perfectly!
Stacey, I used your prompt with my Creative Writing Club (students). on Wednesday. They loved your prompt poem. We also read LH’s “Our Land,” and several students spun off that and wrote about changes they want to see in our country.
Here is my small poem:
Summer Run
Downhill second mile
Gravel beneath my feet
Caliope sings in my chest
A carousel whirling free
My heartbeat is joy
Allison, I came back today to review some poems and just read this. I love the joy described through the exertion of running found through your heartbeat. I could feel the gravel beneath your feet. Loved “Caliope sings in my chest/
A carousel whirling free.” Gorgeous poem!
A life without PTO
Days to be spent traveling with friends
Books to read from my anti-library
Days spent hiking and nights under the stars.
Weekends spent bonding with family.
Imagine the possibilities.
Elizabeth, your last line is really speaking to me. Imagine is such an beautiful word and combine with possibilities is motivates me.
Downhill second mile
Gravel beneath my feet
Caliope lifts me in the sun
Carousel whirling free
My heartbeat is joy
I love your poem about inspiration and joy! I began with the hope of using the same positivity, and then my poem took a more negative route. I am writing a novel in verse and it is pandemic-inspired, so here is a glance of the world that has come to be in my work in progress. I may continue working on it as a way to bring hope to my story.
We had a land
A field we shared
To grow what we wanted
A land that bound us
Not a land that killed us.
We had a land
Where we gathered
Traded goods and smiles
A land that held us
Not a land that pushed us away.
We had a land
Where the only fog was natural
A sign of a cool morning for walks
Not a land with THE fog
A sign that death was near.
Dream Job
Author Freddy Cavazos
I am excited to announce
after years of hard work and struggles.
I am finally getting my dream job.
Yes! It’s a job in Education.
Some may frown upon it due
to the lack of money but,
I’m not in here for the money.
I’m here to inspire change.
Dream Job! Yay, hooray for you, Freddy. Those who frown because of lack of money, don’t understand the nature of education–“to inspire change.”
Love this! I believe all of us educators have felt this when we were hired-it is a calling and definitely a dream. 🙂
Thanks for sharing – it certainly is a calling!
Hi Freddy,
Its heart warming to know that you will be doing something you love and its all about changing mindset and making a difference. All the best.
Amazing Stacy Joy!
I could not wait to read the next line.
Simply amazing!
The Ebb and Flow Joy
Joy for me is an ocean breeze
I inhale the ebb
And gently exhale the flow
With the sun kissing my face
I become one with the sea.
Liberated in her
I swim, dive, and emerse
Early mornings or late nights
I am freed from responsibility
Free from the bias of the shore.
Aach, Melissa. This is amazing. I almost feel like anything I could say about it would take away from the effect of having just experienced this. I was NOT expecting that end line, and it is incredibly powerful – an absolute punch to the sensibilities. The beginning reminded me of meditation practice, so I was in! I am nowhere near an ocean. Are you? I love water, and if I lived near enough to it, I would be this speaker – early morning, late nights – breathing it all in whenever I could. This is as close as I think I can get! Thank you for the immersion!
Thank you for your kind words Denise. I live a 20 minute drive from the beach, but it is my joy so I go often.
Ohhhh, sis, I knew you’d come with something incredible. I am captivated by your opening line as a fellow beach/water/sun lover. Feeling the rhythms of your breaths and the sea as they both ebb and flow. So gorgeous.
And that seals the deal for me! Standing and clapping!!! ??
Love you, Melissa, and I’ve missed your voice here. Thank you!!!
Thank you Stacey Joy for your love, your thoughtful words, and always bringing me back to the beloved art of poetry.
This makes me want to jump in the ocean! My favorite line was “free from the bias of the shore”-what a creative way to describe all that you are leaving behind by jumping into the waves.
I love the imagery found within this piece. The idea of spending an entire day at the beach sounds incredibly appealing to me right now.
Hi Melissa, when I think about the sea I recall my vacation at Caye Caulker and San Perdro in Belize. Its refreshing to get to enjoy the sun, sea and fresh air.
Joy, thank you, thank you! I love these lines today from your sweet poems…
“Earth could unclinch her fists”
and
Joy and liberation, what a great topic for poetry. I loved reading Langston Hughes’ poem that inspired yours, Joy. I had an idea about what brings me joy, everything really. It’s so different at my age than it used to be when I was younger and healthier. I’m having a hard time explaining it.
yesterday I was invincible
today I realize I won’t last forever
so the flowers smell sweeter
the bird song more melodious and
the lunch you served extra delicious
Denise – Your poem does take me to those reckoning moments when we face the shifts in our mortality… that seemingly sudden shift . The quiet embracing of the precious in the last lines is touching. What I loved the most here is the lunch… against the nature (birds & flowers), it’s that simple lunch that punches. May you, however, remain invincible for a long time to come! Susie
Hi Denise,
I’m amazed at how many first lines have pulled me in from this prompt. I’m loving the power of starting off with the belief of invincibility! But the turn towards the small joys is what paints the sweetest picture of all! So grateful to have started my morning with what I missed last night.
Love it!
Hi Denise,
Your poem made me reflect on life and that tomorrow is promised to no one so we must learn to enjoy the moments and everything life has to offer. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for this prompt, Stacey. There are so many poetry forms I know nothing about! When thinking of joy, the births of my children first came to mind. This is a memory of my older son’s birth.
Andrew
reluctant to exit the warm womb
you resisted for two weeks past the due date
and dug in your heels during labor
arriving at last with vigorous wailing
my beautiful long-lashed, copper-haired boy
Charlene,
Two weeks past due date is a long time! “Dug in your heels during labor” sounds as though it was a hard delivery. No wonder beautiful baby wailed. He wanted to meet his mama. ❤️
“long-lashed, copper-haired boy” – oh I can see him in your words. What a sweet explanation of this joyful birth.
Hi Charlene,
It’s amazing how much you packed into 5 stanzas! I had instant tummy aches thinking about baby Andrew being 2 weeks overdue! Poor mama! But alas, look at this gorgeous baby that you’ve given the world:
I almost want to ask for a picture but I’ll settle with the copper-haired cutie in my mind.
❤️
Thank you, Stacey, for this prompt! I love when prompts include a specific form because it really helps me to be more creative — I’m not good at feee verse.
For the past five or six years, the police liaison officer at my school has participated in St. Baldrick’s—a fundraiser for childhood cancer research. This year I got involved…
St. Baldrick’s is coming soon
I think I want to participate.
My family stands firm on “NO!”
But I really think I want to.
When I turn 50!
Social committee sent the email!
St. Baldrick’s is a month away.
I think I want to do this …
Wait, I’m turning 50!
Head shaved, I feel so free!
© Jennifer Kowaczek April 12,2022
I love the twist at the end, Jennifer! And, based on the mood of your poem, my mind wonders/wanders down the path as to whether turning 50 is a watershed moment for you in multiple ways?
Wow, Jennifer! The liberation in shaving your head at 50 shouts empowerment! What a gift to show the fundraisers and the world how to go all out in showing support! My bestie shaved her head when her sister had cancer and it was such a loving way to support her.
Thank you for sharing and most of all for caring!
Thanks Stacey for an invitation to break rules! Strangely enough, I had introduced Haiku to my young students yesterday, inviting them to write 3 line poems without strictly adhering to the traditional 5-7-5 format.
To inspire their writing, we headed outside again today, this time with iPads in hand in search of tiny perfect things. (We had read the book by the same name before heading out–looking for tiny treasures so often overlooked.) When you’re 6 or 7, nearly everything is a treasure. They love the poppies that grow along the fenceline, the spiral of the succulents with their variegated greens, and even the gas meter–a metal contraption–that they don’t recognize as having a particular function.
And their joy inspired my Gogyohka today.
Creative Joy
Released from classroom restraint
they search the school grounds
for tiny perfect things
subjects for child-fresh photography
inspiration for unrestrained Haiku
Kim, I love this glimpse into your outdoor writing activity. I’m transported back to my own outdoor writing adventures in elementary school. Thank you for taking me back! Searching for “tiny perfect things”—so exciting!
“tiny perfect things” — what a wonderful way to frame their observations! Will you be sharing some of their Haiku on your blog, as you often do?
Kim, what a fantastic way to inspire the babies to write about “tiny perfect things” and to use photography and haiku together. I love it and I’m sure they produced amazing poems.
I might try this before the end of the month with my 5th graders!
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Kim, what a wonderful activity and I love how your poem is celebrating your classroom and this joyful time. I also really like the phrase “child-fresh”, it really adds to the emotions of childhood and shifting viewpoints as we grow.
Stacey, thank you for the new form. It was just what I needed to celebrate this 11-month mark!
5.13.21
How lucky, my journey to motherhood: at 5:15 that morning,
our equation found balance—
our moment of liberation
met with unshakable joy.
“our equation found balance” –what a great line.
Hi Laura, no way, I can’t believe your baby is 11 months! It seems like you were pregnant 3 years ago. I guess that’s how sloooooowwwww Covid time ticked for me. I’m sure he’s a joy and I feel your “moment of liberation” as if it were my own.
Hugs!?
Laura, what a wonderful way to celebrate 11 months of motherhood! I like the line “our equation found balance” as well.
Stacey — I want the earth to unclench her fists!… Great line! Standing naked in the mirror… yup, that’d be something to scream about! LOL! Seriously though, a fine mentor poem! Thank you for an uplifting prompt today. Hugs, Susie
Dog Daze
Snapping the collar,
letting loose, unbridling
his unfettered chi,
Watty bolts, hellbent pursuit
up the hill and through the pines;
resolute is he,
his fevered streaks – rabbit, run—
his sheer joy, the chase;
does he sprint the heavens wide
on the rainbow’s other side?
by Susie Morice, April 13, 2022©
Susie, I love your description of Watty letting loose and his “hellbent pursuit”. “his sheer joy, the chase”..yes, you’ve captured a dog’s joy so well here. I love the image of him sprinting beyond the rainbow’s other side. Ahhh, so beautiful and tender. Thank you for this perfect poem of a dog’s joy and the joy a beloved pet can give to us. Hugs, Barb
Awww, what a gut punch at the end, Susie! A marvelously vibrant memory of this pet.
Susie,
Is there anything more joyful than seeing a dog run w/ joy? I think not. I feel the grief and loss w/ you in those last two lines:
“does he sprint the heavens wide
on the rainbow’s other side?”
Our poor Puck struggles to move these days, but get him out in the snow and it’s as though that bounding pup is ten years younger. I know his time is temporal, so I am trying to prepare myself. Your poem is a gut punch as I know our time together will eventually end. okay
Susie, my friend, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d lost your Watty Boy. I am just so sad because I know the love you have for him.
Your poem pays a beautiful sweet tribute to him and I love this:
I believe he and all our other fur babies do!
???
Thank you, Stacey. Yes, it’s way too quiet here. Love you and stay “Joy”-ful. Hugs, Susie
Stacey, I really love this prompt and the style of poetry. Your poem was thought-provoking–the second stanza stood out to me in particular. Although it was a “short” day at school, students were full of questions, assignments were in need of grading, and the inbox was full of emails that needed urgent responses. This week I am particularly looking forward to the weekend!
Monday is the trigger of the gun at the start of the race.
Tuesday tastes like chicken pot pie leftovers.
Wednesday is the summit of the highest peak.
On Thursday I can smell the fresh apple pie baking for tomorrow’s feast.
The bell at 3:20 on Friday signals liberation, freedom.
Rachelle,
I feel this so much today. I happy to know we’ve passed the “highest peak” today–it certainly felt like it! In this desert of the school year with so many full five day weeks, that bell on Friday is liberation indeed. Now, about that apple pie… 🙂
Rachelle, this is so perfectly stated. I adore the way you’ve captured a work week. How I remember longing for that final Friday bell! Delightful poem!
Rachelle, I appreciate the ways food punctuates your week (2 pies— so much comfort!) and the physical feats of Monday and Wednesday are so real. Thanks for sharing!
What a great way to think about the week; Friday sounds delicious! And I love the Wednesday metaphor.
Rachelle,
Hi, I love this! I am on break this week and felt the relief of every day’s triggers! You nailed it and it’s such a clever approach!
I’m afraid to imagine my Friday (tomorrow) as the end of Spring Break. Enjoy your time off! Before you blink, it’s summer!
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Rachelle, I love how much of this ties to food. Although it sounds silly, I feel like the majority of the week is centered around the meals being made. Monday-Wednesdays are simple and filled with leftovers. But Thursdays? They always leave a little room for flexibility.
We had a two hour delay for snow this morning–very spotty across the city–and yes, I know that we’re wusses about snow in Oregon (I lived in upstate New York for six years).
April in Oregon
is never predictable
with snow showers
and hail and rain
between the sun showers.
One moment you can
catch a snowflake on
your tongue, the next
you can fly a kite in
the brisk windy sunshine.
But this is the beauty
of the wondrous Northwest–
the spontaneous changes
in weather that keep
us green and verdant.
Cara, I am starting to learn the unpredictability of Oregon’s spring weather. Your imagery in this poem highlights the thing I love most about the PNW: green scenery throughout most of the year!
“with snow showers and hail and rain between the sun showers” –I love your weather report in a poem!
Cara,
I have visited all 50 states, and the Oregon coast is my favorite part of the U.S, so bring on the hail, snow, and rain if that’s what it takes to keep Oregon wild and wondrous. My husband and I will be heading to Portland for a couple days in July to celebrate our 25th anniversary.
Cara we had snow in Michigan this past weekend and I haven’t seen the beauty in the unpredictability until now. Thank you for this piece!
One simple joy I took for granted as a child was coming home from school to be greeted by my mother eager to ask about my day at school. Oh what I would do to hear those words again.
I take a step inside
And toss my backpack aside
The smell of fresh cookies
Awakens my senses
As I move in for a warm embrace
To answer the age-old question of
“How was your day?”
Emma, I am with you all the way on this emotion. I love that you took something as simple as asking about your day to show us the magnitude of your mom’s love! Pure joy!
I smell the cookies and the scent of a loving mom’s hug!
It’s hard to know to cherish mundane things in the moment, but you capture this scene so well. Thank you for inviting us in.
Awww…this is beautifully captured here, Emma. What a loving legacy to carry with you. I think we all have such moments, crossing the thresholds, into a place of warmth and love. What wouldn’t we all give to embrace those lost moments again, and a poem can help us to do so, at least in our minds. And so, Emma, how was your day? : )
I grew up in an environment that was very loving and supportive but very conservative. It took me many years to realize I didn’t need to abandon everything I was taught to become the person I wanted to be.
Liberation
Liberation can take many forms
I found mine through education
Finding my own beliefs
Discovering what I stood for
Taking the good I was given and making it my own
That’s a beautiful poem, Rob. It expresses in just a few words how important it is to discover one’s self and with that freedom be able to pass the knowledge on to others through education.
Rob, yes! It baffles me how young people are indoctrinated into beliefs and never realize when it’s time to find their own. I love what you chose to focus on today. Liberation is exactly this…
Thank you!
Thank you for this poem, Rob. I connected with your introduction, and I found a lot of similarities as I read the poem. I appreciate your poem which served as not only as mirror to my experience, but also validation of a similar journey I have gone through.
Rob — You have a strong testament here. A poem of growth…and I like the whole “making it my own” that is so necessary in our lives. Way to go! Susie
Rob,
I know exactly what you mean. Education, and not just the classroom kind, teaches us to discover and take to find liberation.
Stacey, I loved your poem, particularly this image of “Earth could unclench her fists,” which is such an apt description of our current world.
I was truly challenged by this sweet prompt – and must simply give in, call it a day, and spare you my writing excuses. Here’s where I landed –
to write poetry
is to be a child once again
feeling the grains of sifting sand
finding hidden gems
lingering in the fleeting
Maureen, this poem feels so, so true! Thanks for it. 🙂
Maureen,
This is a beautiful poem. I will think of this poem when I walk through sand. The meat shoot of “finding hidden gems” makes me think of searching for sea glass. It brings such joy that we can walk the beach and search daily, like we write poetry.
Thanks for this poem. It’s a great reminder to focus on the simple, small joys right in front of us.
“[L]ingering in the fleeting” is such a cool line (and a true one)! Thanks, Maureen!
Maureen, the fact that you gave in and created something this sweet and joyous speaks volumes!
I am a beach lover so I transported myself into your space, embraced the “grains of sifting sand” and breathed in all the goodness.
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Maureen — I felt that this evening too. I felt very “child”-like as I approached the words on the page…gems weren’t coming. You found the gems… I’m needing some of that mojo! Susie
Maureen, this poem IS a gem.
“Lingering in the fleeting” is a perfect way to express the moments that a poem captures.
feeling the grains of sifting sand…ah! This is a beautiful piece–and also echoes the feelings I have writing poetry with my first grade students–that freshness and fearlessness of young poets.
I miss my kids! It is amazing how much joy I get from any communication with them. Over the next week, I will experience everything in my poem. It has been too long.
Now, more than ever,
a simple text or call
can conjure happy tears
until those same tapping fingers
can encircle and interlock in a warm hug.
Heather, we feel you! My adult children have never lived in the same state as my husband and me, but now my daughter has decided to move into the next town. We can hardly wait! In the meantime, we meet and grin at each other through our laptop or cell phone cameras.
I know you are looking forward to this next week of reuniting! I love your connection between “tapping fingers” of texting and the grand prize of “can encircle and interlock in a warm hug.”
Heather- this is just beautiful! I get happy tears from texts or calls from my college kids too but I can’t wait to hug them this weekend. Enjoy your time with your daughter this week.
Heather, I agree!!! Nothing is more joyous than being with our children even when they’re all grown up! Enjoy the week with your kids.
Love the words: encircle and interlock ?
Thank you for sharing these words!
My daughter is only 13 but so independent. I take every moment she is willing to sit with me and soak it in! At the start of 7th grade, just six months ago, she decided she was too old for me to read aloud to her ?
I was feeling a bit tired today but reading your poems filled me with joy and inspiration. I thought about the joy of driving home on the first warm sunny day of Spring. This happened recently around here and sun felt so glorious after what seemed like weeks of gray skies.
Sunshine dancing on my face
Windows open letting the outside in
Warm rushes of air befuddling my hair
Music pumping, bass thumping
Belting out “I’m walking on sunshine and don’t it feel good”- oh yeah!
The first warm sunny day of Spring! This happened here, too! I love how you single out hair in this line, “Warm rushes of air befuddling my hair” – I totally agree that this is such a joyous feeling, to have the windows down and to feel this.
Thank you for sharing! It was such a gloomy day in Michigan today. I loved the phrase “befuddling my hair.” I had never seen those words used together but I could picture exactly what you meant.
Your poem makes me yearn for warm summer days. Your line “Music pumping, bass thumping” comes to life as I look forward to days with windows down and wind blowing as I make my way to the beach.
Cathy, oh what a happy day you had! I feel the warmth in your poem but more importantly, I feel your joy!
Oh yeah!!
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When I saw that one of the prompts was about liberation, for some reason this made me think to when I started going shorter with my hair. I had never written a poem about it, so this seemed like a good opportunity to explore — especially since the form itself is short.
Short Hair, Don’t Care
Women with short
hair take pleasure
in the razor’s caress
of the scalp
free from constraints.
Short haired women
why don’t you
grow it out?
Asked and asked again.
Never satisfied with our pleasure.
Welcome short hair
sisters of the pixie,
the bob, the crop.
We chose the look
that cut us free from norms.
Erica,
Your poem stood out to me because I get comments because I am the absolute opposite. My hair falls several inches below my tailbone, so people are always asking when I’m going to cut it–I’m not. So your last line, “We chose the look / that cut us free from norms” works for both ends of the spectrum. Perhaps people just need to mind their own danged business, right? 😉
Erica, isn’t a freedom women are just beginning to exercise! Wearing our hair the way WE want it. Years ago, I had a neighbor who wore a blond wig to bed because her husband wanted her to do it. She grumped and groaned, but usually went along … until they later divorced. She’d had enough of trying to be somebody else…while in her own body.
Thanks for the reminder that “We chose the look that cut us free from norms!”
Erica,
Boy, do I hear you. Just got my hair bobbed at Christmas time, and I love it! Love the paradox, here, of the “razor’s caress.” And your acknowledgement of the barrage of sexist questions was perfect. :). And your play on “cutting” at the end. Bravo, short-haired sister.
Absolutely! Short hair invites us to be “free from constraints.” Your poem got me thinking about all the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that women’s looks are challenged every day – why is this an outsider’s business?
Erica,
I admire you and I love that you took the liberation prompt to write about your hair! I don’t know what it will take for me to become untethered to my twists but I just know I don’t want to have to think about my hair more than every 8 weeks. LOL. It’s tricky now that I’m older because I don’t have full hair and I don’t have the right head for bald but I sure would consider it if I did. I wore short short short hair back in the 90’s but it was too much work.
I applaud you! ????????
“Free from constraints” — yes!! To each her own! Let the buzzers buzz away! Freedom!
Erica,
Preach! I’ve kept my hair no longer than shoulder length nearly all my life. It’s liberating to have hair requiring little care. Love your poem, short hair sister.
Thank you Stacey. It may not make sense to anyone but me, but there is nothing like breathing free (literally). This time of year, that is hard to do.
Most duplicitous
Springtime shouts come one and all
Bask in my sunshine.
Meanwhile, swollen eyes pinch tight,
My nose announces the sneeze.
Oh my – my husband suffers this way, “swollen eyes pinch tight.” It is really tough to experience such a frustrating response to the fresh air of spring; I am filled with sympathy for you!
I feel very seen! haha I loved the playfulness of your poem. I appreciated how you were able to convey both the joy and woe of this time of year for some of us all in five lines.
Katrina, this makes too much sense to me I was thinking earlier this week how strange it is to celebrate the beauty that I know causes me so much agony. “Most duplicitous” feels like the only way to open this poem.
Ba-ha-ha-ha! All this week, I keep thinking, “Covid? Allergies? Covid? Allergies?” Especially since I read that the new version of covid has symptoms so similar to allergies. Covid Chameleon more like! I’m also impressed with the start word “duplicitous.” Not a word I read very often, and so now feel challenged to use it somewhere this week. Thanks for the (serious) fun, Katrina!
Complete Joy
Spring Break means total relaxation
time to let your bladder be the leader instead of the bell
time to have dinner first and breakfast in the evening
time to lie in bed all day and get served
time to forget all of their names if you can
Go outside and let fresh air smack you in the face
Notice flowers, grass, and overgrown bushes
Find the inner child you’ve been keeping hidden
Allow her to swing her arms and kiss the sky
Snuggle with someone special during daytime hours
By Seana Hurd Wright
4/13/2022
“time to let your bladder be the leader instead of the bell”
Laughing and nodding …
🙂
Kevin
I agree with Kevin- “time to let your bladder be the leader”- made me chuckle out loud because it is so true. I look forward to experiencing the joy you expressed next week on my Spring Break.
This is perfect! It is my guide as I head into April vacation next week. My bladder needs to lead for a while, and I really want the fresh air to smack me!
Seana,
“time to forget all of their names if you can” made me lol.
I love all the routines being flipped upside down – this is liberating! A spring break to totally savor.
Seana, honey, you hit all the nails on the head! My favorite line is:
Oh, how I adore being able to kiss the sky this week without shouting a child’s name at the same time.LOL.
Great poem! Enjoy what’s left of our much needed time off.
Seana — The bell and the bladder… you sure hit a chord with me on that…so many years dictated by the blasted bells. Your spring break deserves to be the very best for you… snuggle and soak up that spring air, swing arms, kiss the sky! Yes, do ALL of that! Susie
I loved the line “time to forget all their names if you can.” I thought it was clever because it was a bit of rebellion against constant responsibility but also, memory don’t always obey.
Wednesdays are not my day, friends, but definitely had more pep in my step knowing that the “Joy Warrior” was hosting, and would definitely offer something new. When I lived in Japan, I dedicated myself to writing only Tankas and haikus (epic haikus, as I journaled my thoughts only in 5/7/5 patterns. I love this, Joy. Thank you for liberating my kite string and going outside the box (don’t laugh at that). I’m going to go stain my cheeks with popsicles now.
Boy without Balloon
~b.r.crandall
When you live a stuck-in-traffic-sort-of life,
and commute at 6 a.m to classrooms that polka-dot
the sound north of Long Island into Connecticut,
you think about what’s most important, like decorating a
a colleague’s bulletin board with mermaids, unicorns, and fairies.
You contemplate great rhymes for truckers, too,
as they line up on I-95 like wheeled billboards,
only to block sunlight, blue sky, and horizons…
You can’t help wondering if Banksy was the one who wrote in dirt
Wash Me, Bi’otch before you decide you’re definitely grilling Salmon tonight.
Traffic Stuck Poetry … done on the road … love the Bansky turn at the end, Bryan
Kevin
BR, we’ve finally started getting “on the road” again, and your description is so r right on regarding the 18 wheelers! I know it’s the work of those haulers that keep our stores stocked…. but…..
as they line up on I-95 like wheeled billboards,
only to block sunlight, blue sky, and horizons…
So true, that I have to get over being ticked off and be grateful that I can tick up the list that includes the items they haul for us.
You have truly captured the delightful, joyous rambles of a mind free to wander while commuting! Love that you land at grilled Salmon!
Hi Bryan! I appreciate you pushing yourself outside the box and allowing your liberation to inspire this poem. I am one for being in traffic (Los Angeles has traffic 24/7) and you capture those random wonderings and noticings so well. I’m in total love with:
I wonder if that’s something you do…show up unexpectedly to do fun things like that for a colleague. I would love you as a colleague!
Cracking up!!! ?
BRC — This made me chuckle tonight. The traffic..egads…and the 18-wheelers “like …billboards”… life on the freeway… whew, I feel for ya. I really love these lines:
Yup…think about what’s important and then go grill salmon. Susie
love that ending of the first stanza, and knowing you, I feel it’s real.
I love the stream-of-consciousness vibe of this poem, Bryan! The ending made me laugh – jolting from Bansky to grilling salmon.
There is no better way
to describe the human condition
than by pouring yourself a cup of coffee
and deciding for yourself whether or not
life is worth living.
Stephenos this is quite profound! Definitely highlights for me how important coffee can be and certainly brings me joy every day.
I recently had to give up my morning cup so I feel this on so many levels. With or without I promise it’s worth it! Thank your for sharing
Yessss, coffee and life go well together until they decide not to play nicely anymore. I love it!
Stephenos, I’ll be thinking of this tomorrow morning! Thank you!
Yet ANOTHER poetic form I have never heard of, and fun to learn about, so thank you Stacey. Simple approach for me today.
Disconnect
I forgot
my phone at work
I refuse to go back
The most peaceful evening
I can remember
Denise,
I’ve been reading “Stolen Focus,” and your poem captures the essence of that book. In these five lines you’ve captured the essence of how we live and what we’re missing. Love this poem gift.
Simply sweet!! Thanks for sharing!
My phone takes me away from too many things I enjoy. I love your poem, and it is a reminder I need to “forget” my phone somewhere.
This reminds me of the time I left my phone at home and when I told my students they were aghast. They really don’t appreciate the peace it can bring.
What a turn of feeling- I read the title and thought how can this word be joyful but then you showed me. I am glad it has been a peaceful night for you.
Thanks for this reminder. I certainly could use a day or two of ‘disconnecting.’
Denise,
I am in awe that you left it and didn’t go back. I hate that I know I’m addicted to connectivity. It’s awful!
I’m willing to try to disconnect a few hours a day between now and Sunday…………pray I can do it!
I needed this. I bet we all do!
Denise — This would be my standing naked before the mirror (thank you, Stacey) moment… I truly feel naked with the phone…it’s crazy, given how I proclaimed back in about 1999 that I’d never bother with the cellphone. LOL! So much for that. But you speak truth here…the phone can be a wicked tether. Love the title! Susie
Oh my goodness–I don’t know if I would find that peaceful or terrifying! (Great poem!)
Oh, Denise, what a perfect example of a joy-filled evening without the bother of the phone, our digital appendage. Disconnect is a perfect title.
Thank you for this great prompt! I felt liberated and joyful writing to this. And I really appreciated the vivid imagery in the exemplar poem–“popsicle stained cheeks”–delicious!
Opening Day
Calling in sick feels delightfully devious.
The kids crowd into the car and we ride with the windows down,
Finding our seats now, the smell of popcorn and hot dogs greet us,
“Beer here!” Yes please! The bucket brigade passes it down the row
And we settle in to the pop of the mitt and a first pitch strike.
Incredible images of America’s Pastime. Love it!
Perfect for skipping out …. Keep passing those beers over here …
Kevin
This sounds like a joyful day indeed. I love “delightfully devious.” I need to do something like that.
Hi Dave,
I hope you choose to be “delightfully devious” as much as possible! What a fantastic way to be devious! Your poem shows me how much baseball fans must love their sport! Fun!!!
Cheers!?
I’ve LOVED reading all your poems today! This is such a joyful place to be. Thank you.
I had a good time remembering some moments from the early days of dating my now-husband! New love = liberating joy.
Ultimate Frisbee
an exhilarating evening
running back and forth
making eyes with you
we collapse on the ground, laughing
and realize the stars have come out
I love the openness of the last line! You really capture the excitement of the moment.
Rachel, this is great! A tender (and also “exhilarating”) afternoon that you’ve captured here. So (seemingly) simple and straightforward, but so charged! I love the “making eyes with you” line! Thanks for sharing this!
Your poem shows the joy in this memory. I love the line “making eyes with you.”
Rachel, I’m glad you found joy in this space today! Your poem is all joy and love! Imagine if everyone had an “Ultimate Frisbee” memory!
?
Felt the love in this poem. Reminded me of The Notebook.
Thank you for the prompt, Stacy, and the wonderful poem. I’m learning about so many different poetry forms through #VerseLove, I’m loving it.
For me, liberation is a break from routine and joy is getting to sleep in as much as I want. And that’s what my Gogyohka is all about:
The joy of turning off my recurring morning alarm.
The freedom to wake up only to snuggle down further under the covers,
To sleep some more, dream some more, not-be some more.
And then to wake up to a cup of coffee and the expanse
Of a day unplanned awaiting, beckoning – like a blank canvas.
One wasn’t enough. I got to thinking about how writing is, always has been, my happy place. So…
A pencil and a funky notebook.
A laptop screen open to an empty Doc.
The bare back of a random receipt,
Small notecards, napkins, paper scraps,
Anything I can fill with words – fills me with joy.
Saba, both of these are perfect truth! I’m on break right now, so stanza #1 really hit home! Love all of the small details that capture the pleasure of capturing a thought in Stanza 2! Beautiful ad true!
Wow, Saba! I thought you captured every one of my emotions in your first poem. Then, I read the second one and said, “She is all in my life!”
My spring break week has been exactly as your first poem says! For that, I’m eternally grateful.
I love these both, Saba! I can’t even tell you how much that first one resonates with me, especially as we are nearing the end of the school year and summer break is in sight. I wake up and think, “I just want a day when I am not responsible to anyone for anything.” It does seem such a luxury, doesn’t it? Thank you for capturing THAT so well – and then, if I DID have that day of liberation, the next poem fits it perfectly – I would be writing! Joyful! Joyful! Thank you!
Stacey,
Thank you so much for the joyful prompt! Your poem positively rang with joyous imagery — I loved it. I’m here in my hometown on Spring Break, in my family home, visiting, and that inspired my poem for today — thanks for the opportunity to write it:
Visiting Home
A bird on the wing
on a long stretch of highway:
Home always calls me –
recalls me – to its glad heart
And I can’t – and won’t – refuse.
A wing and a prayer:
First job, first love, home, kids, pets.
Hours of buffer zone.
I couldn’t wait to flee it
on a long stretch of highway.
Years worked their magic
(as years and healing do well):
Now, on a long stretch
of highway my heart lifts the
closer I get to
she who knows me so
better than anyone else
and as I wing down
that winding stretch of road, I
anticipate belonging —
days to put my cares
to rest: no job, no home, no
kids no pets: just she
and me: remembering and
laughs and gentle reminders
When memory fails
The two of us: winging it.
Wendy, your poem is so moving, beautiful and tender. Love how you’ve incorporated the bird imagery of flying off and then winging down home again. I so enjoyed the things you can leave for awhile: job, home, kids, pets. The final two lines are incredibly powerful “the two of us: winging it”…wow, truly wonderful finish. My favorite lines: “Now, on a long stretch/of highway my heart lifts the/closer I get to/ she who knows me so”. Gorgeous poem! Thank you!
OMGosh, Wendy! When I had a homestead to return to – this is precisely how those welcome returns in my older ‘healed’ years felt to me. I had forgotten this feeling – the family home long since sold off – and I read this with a kind of excitement at recalling those days. “Roadtripping home!” I patted my heart to calm myself when I read these lines, “and as I wing down / that winding stretch of road, I / anticipate belonging — ” First, the alliteration is keen, and the choice of “wing” – of course carries the avian theme through (which is also brilliant), but there is a sense of joyful abandonment in the idea of ‘winging’ oneself down a road. It’s the “I anticipate belonging” that was the kicker line for me. Those long homebound roadtrips and just wanting to be where love began. It reminds me, too, of Fanny Price, as she is telling Edmund why she wants to go home, to be with people who love her. It’s a sad comment on the family with whom she is staying, but also speaks to the very different kind of familial love – if we’ve had it – that we crave. Ditto that this is beautiful, Wendy. Thank you!
Stacy, I love the image of “Earth unclench[ing] its fists and smil[ing] in rainbows”!
I just started reading the book “Atomic Habits,” so I’ve been thinking about small increments.
Atomic Joy
Queen Elizabeth
in a car window; heated
seats on a chilly
morning; a little extra
cuddle time–I always seek
to cherish the tiny joys.
I have this book on my list to read. I love the “tiny joys” you share in your poem.
Julie, love these lines: “I always seek/to cherish the tiny joys”. So perfectly stated. This reminds me a bit of Emily from Our Town asking if we can truly appreciate life’s beautiful moments. Powerful poem!
Awwww! I love the start line and who that ‘really’ is in this poem I wasn’t quite expecting that, but – of course! Your highness! “a little extra / cuddle time” – the split in that line brings the “cuddle” in where I was just expecting “time,” so that word ordering really doubles up the meaning in my reader’s mind – a little extra cuddle / a little extra time. Because what is that extra time for but to notice and to enjoy. So even just a ‘raised awareness’ of the appreciation for what brings you joy is itself that extra. I have a student who is late every day, and we start each class with a journal prompt, so once when he came in as we were writing, I told him his prompt was to explain to me why he was late every day. Turns out he has a pack of tiny nieces and nephews who cry when he leaves the nest. He said he has to stop and hug each one of them before he can leave. I honestly cried myself when I read that! And then we talked about leaving earlier… I really enjoyed reading Atomic Habits. It helped me work with some of my own habits as well as provide a framework for my students.
Thank you for the prompt! Very thought provoking. Stacey- After reading your poem – I felt free! A peace came over me, and I pondered the cycle of joy, and what was truly joyful in life? Could joy be cycled? If so where, how, or when? Maybe joy is in our students, faith, or life? Will Joy stay with us for eternity?
IF BE?
Behold a precious miracle,
Inviting peace unequivocal.
Reach to touch, stone to new,
Time unwinds butterfly true.
Hold my soul to take.
Comfortable eyes, first light
Holding him close till midnight.
Inches on my forearm,
Lays his cheek in my palm,
Down to sleep.
For I wake,
Awake, my soul to take.
If I die,
Tether our eyes
He is my blood; I am his sky.
Everlasting prayer,
Nourishing, ageless care.
Dream soft amongst ancestral winds
Unwrap them again and again.
Rest my soul to take.
I lay me down to sleep,
Nothing now, I choose to keep
Glorious Son, I rest my cheek on your palm.
Longing for peace unequivocal
Your life, my life- beheld a precious miracle.
-Boxer
There are so many lovely lines here. This is one, for me:
“Dream soft amongst ancestral winds”
Kevin
Boxer Moon, this was just beautiful. Thank you for sharing it — and your experience — with us. <3
Boxer Moon, you’re so good at painting the pictures with your poetry. I’m always drawn in and marveling at your writing. I read this over and over, powerful!!
This poem is a gift. Thank you!
Three Gogyohka
By Nancy White
Stacey. Thanks for this fun prompt and lesson about a form new to me! I loved reading your poem, especially standing out to me was “popsicle-stained” and the personification of the earth clenching her fists.
Here are three unrelated poems, though the second and third could be part of a future group.
Rise up in freedom
Shouts the river of justice
All who are weary
Who tire of wearing the chains
Rise up in freedom and dance
~~~~~~~~~
When skin meets ocean
Sharp stabbing sting of cold
I dunk myself under
And feel the freedom begin
I shoot up gasping, shrieking
~~~~~~~~~
The school clock buzzes
At three o’clock life begins
We race out, loud shout!
It’s summertime! Free at last!
Barefoot I run to the beach
Your second and third stanzas certainly reflect the same joy and release, in different settings. Actually, I believe all three express a release. I remember the feeling in the third stanza vividly:
“The school clock buzzes
At three o’clock life begins”
(but no beach for me…)
I responded most to your second Gogyohka because I have the same feeling of freedom and “shock” when my skin meets the ocean. All thoughts of anything else disappear except the shrieking joy.
Hi Nancy,
The last two poems are my greatest joys of summer…beach/pool/water! All joy!
I love that you wrote 3 poems because each one is beautiful and needed here! Thank you.
Nancy, loved these! I think #2 is my fave: love the cool, arresting imagery.
The more I write, the more I really appreciate limits like the tanka form, here which I stretch to two stanzas.
the whole child
The day’s first email —
subject line: “Confidential.”
A kid in crisis,
quietly bravely seeking help.
Looking up from the email,
I see her come in
like it’s just another day —
which, I guess, it is.
Still, every word & gesture
becomes a sign, a warning.
Wow. The first stanza sets us up, then “like it’s just another day”. So many kids carry their issues silently. and you are right, after that, you see what you did not see before. This should be part of every student care PD. The insight is powerful.
Joel, your poem is powerful and highlights a teacher’s role in a student’s precious life. Hope your student is able to conquer their issues.
Joel,
There are times when a title completes a poem. Such is the case w/ yours today. Without the title my reading would change, as would the ideas in your poem. A child is so much more than the sum of a confidential email.
Joel, Great poem, and I loved how you captured so much and made it so narrative in such a short space. Love the contrast of the two stanzas. I feel like I’ve been here. before, with a kid on my mind…and there they appear, in a sphere so different from where they’re living in my head. Thanks.
This thanks is to you Stacey as well as the other writers that have given us prompts though April. I don’t always give thanks to each of you but your inspirational prompts are something I look forward to each day. Thanks!
Bicycle
my hair flying free
cool wind on my arms and face
feet off the pedals
lifted and slung out sideways
I’m quickly whizzing downhill
effortless and free
Thank you, susan, for the lovely, spring-time ride — I don’t know the last time I was on a bike like this, but you brought it beautifully to life here. Especially the downhill rush & freedom!
I almost wrote my poem about the same thing, remembering my Freshman year at college & the hill I’d ride down to get back to my dorm at the end of each day. I don’t know what says liberation & joy more than the feeling of whizzing downhill on a bike! Especially at the end of a long day, and in beautiful weather 🙂 Your description is beautiful!
Such freedom is expressed in your lines- hair flying free, whizzing down the hill effortlessly. You made me want to jump on my bike.
The “effortless and free whizzing downhill” is why we never forget how to ride a bike. We never forget the freedom to which it spoils us.
Stacey, thanks again for hosting. I love this space to read and write with Verse Love friends.
Simple Pleasures; Joyful Endeavors
baby coos, moonlight
cruise, lilacs, mountains, ocean
views, skinny dipping─
rainy Wednesday writing with
Stacey Joy and Verse Love friends
Barb Edler
13 April 2022
What a lovely poem, Barb. Skinny dipping- well that was unexpected!
Barb–love the images, love the word choice (lilacs!!!), love the internal rhyme. yes.
Barb,
This is a fantastic list poem. The title is perfect. Stacey Joy does live up to her name, for sure.
I love the way your last line is a wave to all of us! I’m waving back! I’m glad we are all here together, rain or shine, snow or sleet – the weather is always beautiful when the day is spent with friends.
WRITE ON, Barb — love the tempo and the rhymes. A just-right gogyohka! I want to plant my face in a lilac bush! Hugs, Susie
I experience unexpected joy
whenever I’m stewing in traffic
and turn to see the smiling face
of a dog with its head out of the
side window of a passing car
_________________________________
Stacey, thank you for this! I would love this to come to fruition: “Earth could unclench her fists / and smile with rainbows.”
Scott, what a perfect moment of joy! Love your focus on a defining moment when you feel like you’re going to lose it and then you see the dog! Excellent poem!
love this moment, Scott. I really enjoy how your poem makes me think of all the goofy and meaningful ways that animals sort of call out our human stresses and craziness in their own ways.
I enjoyed this because so many times our focus is on the road, tunnel vision. Every now and then we need our humors tickled by a tongue-wagging dog. Scott, I need more of those moments. My once joyful 30-minute ride to work was ruined once my kids were old enough to argue. It’s even worse with an increased speed limit and people driving like they’re trying to outrun a storm. So it’s great to have a break from the monotonous, yet dangerous drive to work. Thank you for sharing!
Yes! This image brings me joy! (I need to show you the photo we took of the dog next to us in the parking lot of Meijers. He was just chilling.)
Scott–me, too! Amazing how a smiling mutt can change the scenery!
Scott,
I’m all about watching the dogs in other cars, and your poem puts a huge grin on my face. We’d have less road rage if we had more dogs in cars.
Thank God for dogs and their “smiling faces” and the comic relief they provide when we most need it.
Ditto. I’m also fond of those late elementary kids who make faces at you from school buses. I want to be that kid again.
There is nothing that a dog’s in-the-momentness-of-joy can’t fix. Thank you for painting this beautiful moment of frustration with an overlay of happiness and change of perspective!
Scott – Is that every true! Nothing beats the instant delight in that happy dog face…especially when trapped in traffic. Susie
Thank you for sharing your beautiful poem, Stacey! You painted a future dream we all hope Mother Nature can eventually experience again. I personally loved the warm references you used like “sisters giggling in the summer sun.”
My Little Plants
My nine little plants used to be nine little seeds,
My nine little seeds hiding under the warm soil
My seeds have bloomed with knowledge and beauty
My nine little plants have grown unique petals
My nine little plants are my nine beautiful students.
Margaret, what a beautiful poem to show the love you have for your students. It is magical and joyful to see students bloom! Gorgeous poem!
Margaret, what a perfect analogy! This is my favorite line: “My nine little plants have grown unique petals” and it resonates with me because we all play a role in their growth, yet their uniqueness is what makes them stand out. Those nine little seeds were nurtured with love, compassion, and grace to bloom into beautiful plants. And what’s even better is that those nine beautiful students will have their own seeds to sow and the cycle begins again. I love this, thanks for sharing!
Thank you for this meditation on student growth, on how they take root in a loving community & stretch to proud beauty!
Thanks for the prompt! I love thinking about what gives me joy!
Him.
He is amazing.
I love him very dearly.
He is so loving.
This man is mine forever.
I could look at him always.
Emma, ahhhh…I hope you’re sharing this poem with the subject of your poem. He sounds “amazing”!
This is so cute. I love the way each line is a complete statement, & the finality or dedication that gives. Especially the first line – just “Him.”
Emma, having such love and admiration for a kindred soul is a beautiful thing. Be blessed!
Firsts
By: Emily Yamasaki
it’s a time of firsts
a line of ants marching there
possibilities
of a single mud puddle
the light dances in his eyes
Emily, firsts are always joyous. I know the exact feeling of joy when experiencing a first. Thanks for sharing!
Emily, love how you focus on this interesting moment with your son. Love that last line “light dances in his eyes” ! Plus, ants are fascinating! Wonderful poem!
Love how the word possibilities takes a full line–which makes sense, since in our lives possibilities can fill so much! Oh, and the way those u’s work on the ear in “mud puddle” : )
Emily–you have given us such joy in this poem, all through the eyes of a child. Possibilities of a single mud puddle–what joy there is in those lines!
Emily,
Life with a toddler is indeed a “time of firsts.” My favorite first in your poem is the promise and possibility of that mud puddle.
Emily, you’ve captured a small moment of joy and made it a huge expression of liberation! Oh, to be free enough to enjoy a line of ants and the light dancing in your son’s eyes!
Precious!! Savor these small joyous moments.
?
Just today a student asked if one word can make a line of poetry. Thank you for reminding us of the “possibilities” of poetry through this beautiful portrait.
This was a lovely prompt Stacey! I especially liked the Popsicle stained face and was reminded again about poem I once wrote about unclenched fists. Most of all I was reminded of my very recent experience with liberation and joy. Only days ago my seven year old grandson challenged me to a race to the fence and back. Quite a few decades younger than me, the race is fixed, but the feeling of liberation and joy is boundless!
ready-set-go! and he’s off— a smug dare lost to the wind—
at the finish line— two winners, he who came in first—
and she, breathless, who once again felt
the buoyant wind on her face—
the soft spring earth beneath her feet.
Oh, Ann. Yes, that was a an experience of liberation and joy. I’m so glad you took the dare and lived this sweet joy.
Ann, oooohhhh, I love the focus here, the sensory appeal to the “buoyant wind” and “the soft spring earth beneath her feet.” A perfect poem to capture a splendid moment of freedom!
I love this so much, and the way you describe the “two winners” and “she… who once again felt” that wind and grass. There is so much joy here. Thank you for sharing this sweet experience!!
Ann,
I’m so glad you provided the back story. Your poem captures the joy of running with children. I love the words “smug, buoyant” as you use them here.
Awww, Ann, I love it! I bet your grandson was impressed with you, regardless of coming in second place. ?
There’s much to love and behold in the breathlessness, the wind, and the “soft spring earth…”
????????
Life’s a Beach
By Mo Daley 4-13-22
Life with you is a beach at 84 degrees
with a slight breeze and occasional clouds passing through
the kind of day when I wear just the right amount of sunscreen
to get a little color, but not burn
it’s perfection
The right amount of sunscreen – can be so challenging to achieve! I’m wishing that I’m with you on that beach today.
HI Mo! I loved how you emphasized the clouds passing through, but the perfection behind life. Thanks for sharing!
Mo, I couldn’t agree more. Love the sensory appeal to touch: the breeze, temperature, clouds, and sunscreen. You’re end is “perfection”! Gorgeous poem. This makes me long for the sun and beach!
Mo! What a day! There’s nothing better than a perfect temp, just right breezy day at the beach – lucky you for being with the “you.”
Mo,
I feel the warmth and sunshine of love in your poem. I dream of beaches every day, and even though I can’t go right now and am stuck in this deep freeze–literally–I’m transported to this paradise in your poem, and I’m smiling.
Mo, you’ve nailed all my favorite things about beaches! I am instantly pulled in and wanting to stay forever! I’m glad your life with your “you” is a beach and not a bitch. LOL!
?
That beach with a book would be a little slice of heaven. A little Vitamin D would be just the ticket! Enjoy your time in the sun!
Mo — I’m smiling at the title and loving that “just right”-ness of the sun rays. Susie
Stacey,
Thanks for the inspiration today. I resist form, so I’m glad you challenged me with some structure. I, of course, broke rules when I needed to.
“Popsicle-stained cheeks” is simply perfect!
Blanket
Evenings when he’s gone
the weight of guilt and shame lifts
I’m free to be just me
retreating into a book
or binging my favorite show.
The comfort of him
sometimes suffocates my skin
like a wool blanket
that traps in the heat and itches
so much I have to throw it off.
When he enters the room
my heart lifts yet also pauses
for his presence shrinks the room
filling it with what he wants and thinks and feels
stifling my air and my thoughts.
Oh, the irony!
I feel guilty for feeling free
of the guilt that being brings
but I just want space
to be who I am and do what I do.
~Susan Ahlbrand
13 April 2022
Susan, I can totally relate to your poem and that need to not feel guilty for wanting time and space alone. The “stifling my air and my thoughts” is especially effective. Love your last line “to be who I am and do what I do”. Excellent poem!
I appreciate the conflict in this poem and I think your choice of the blanket imagery is perfect — since a blanket can be a comforting thing but at the wrong time or in the wrong weather can also be stifling.
Susan, this poem could be the opening of a novel, describing the difficulties of a relationship, of finding one’s voice and place in it. “his presence shrinks the room/filling it with what he wants and thinks and feels” is powerful imagery; I could feel myself shrinking with that sentence.
Stacey,
Thank you got bringing your joy to us, but especially for penning a poem of possibility and hope for a more liberated country. This freed me to write what I needed to say this morning in my ongoing eye saga. I love all things Langston Hughes. What a gift we have in his and your words.
20/20 Joy
The joy of 20/20 vision
Escapes my flawed sight.
The world looks blurred
As do the words you write.
Specs can’t correct this purgatory.
I see no end to obscured days
As I walk into glass doors &
Smack my face on windows
Like Jane Lynch’s birds crashing into skyscrapers.
My good fight is with my eyes.
I want to fall into a book
With letters I clearly see—
The joy of reading I’ve known
Crisp words I’ve watched unfold—
Before my Edgar Alan Poe orbs.
It is my eyes that vex me
Still liberation I see in soft outlines
Of furry pets & mountain peaks
In knowing this story in medias res
Will reach its denouement.
—Glenda Funk
April 13, 2022
Hi Glenda, I know you’ve had struggles with your eyes recently. I hope the end id in sight. I didn’t know about the Jane Lynch show. I had to look up your reference. I’m glad I did, as your wordplay is fabulous. I also like the hopeful tone of your last stanza.
Glenda, your whole poem shares your eyesight struggles, and I love the way you show what you want to be able to see. The “Edgar Alan Poe orbs” and the birds flying into the skyscrapers were especially powerful. I absolutely adore your final stanza and how it effortlessly flows. Sending positive vibes that the eye procedures you’ve been dealing with help improve your eyesight.
Glenda, I can feel your frustration through this poem. It took some Googling to understand the Jane Lynch reference and now I want to binge-watch the show. I hope your vision troubles end soon!
Oh, Glenda, I’m filled with gratitude for your joy and your hope in the midst of your eyesight issues. Your poem helps us all to better understand and have compassion for you. We take too much for granted like taking in the minute details of words on a page. You’ve taught us well in your poem.
Thankful for these final hope-filled lines:
Hugs my friend! ?
Your poem truly lets me see as you do, Glenda, to feel the painful parts of this “good fight” you are having with your eyes. I hear such desire –
I hope you are one day looking back – clearly seeing, as you do – on these limitations. Pardon the pun – this was truly insightful.
Glenda, that last word – denouement – of clarity, things being clear – that is what I wish for you. You have been a champion of not letting things keep you down this year – even started traveling again. Your frustrations are real, but so is your drive! Your eyes are no match for your determination to live and live big and find ways of seeing and sensing the world around you. Your writing today particularly is touching here at this part:
Still liberation I see in soft outlines
Of furry pets & mountain peaks
In knowing this story in medias res
Will reach its denouement.
The mountains of the distance and your dogs right in your lap are both sights of great comfort – the world out there and the world at home. I love your steadfast determination to keep doing the things that you love – writing, reading, traveling. Your experiences are expressed so clearly through your words, and I love that you share them with us!
Glenda – I am sure sorry that you are facing this eye trouble…it’s a real bite in the heinie! Pain in the eyeball! I am sending big vibes for this woe to grind to a half and for no more “vex”-ing. Clarity! Bring it on! Thank you for sharing this poem and let’s lift that burden and get you winkin’ and blinking’ in 20/20. Hugs, Susie
What a great topic of the liberation that will come with that good denouement of your eye issues. This is a great line: “Specs can’t correct this purgatory.”
rollick
when that baby giggles
give back the tiniest smile
she studies your mouth
so you smile shift just one bit
and she will burst, baby burst
Kevin,
Such joy in the b’s and ee’s throughout this poem in sound and image. I love thinking about a baby studying us and their commentary in “burst.”
Sarah
I love this! There is such joy in your poem. I have a 1-year-old grandson who is possibly the world’s happiest baby, so I know exactly what you’re talking about.
And she will burst! There is nothing lovelier than a baby giggle, and you’ve captured that precious moment.
I can’t help but smile when I read this. The micro moments of bliss you describe are wonderful. Thanks for sharing!
Hi Kevin, this poem makes me so excited for children. I am getting married this summer, and I am very excited about this next step after marriage. Thanks for sharing!
so excited for you, Emma!
Kevin, yes, there is so much joy hearing a baby’s giggle. Tender and touching poem!
thank you for that, Barb!
Burst, baby burst. I can hear it. I can see you both. I can burst into laughter with you.
big smile
Kevin,
This is all joy!!! I don’t think anything is sweeter or more joyful than “baby giggles” especially when it’s nonstop!
?
thank you Stacey!
it’s the last line for me…burst, baby burst.
Thank you, Stacey for the inspiration. I have been thinking of freedom as the ability to always remember. Memory is resting strong within me this spring.
Memory of Spring
The sparrow huddles
Under the azalea bush –
A bright pink umbrella,
Shelter from spring rain,
She settles in the dirt.
Dusting her dull feathers,
Listening to the rhythmic drip,
Of the passing storm,
She is literally grounded,
Bound to the Earth.
Hidden among the foliage,
Hindered by this world of wetness,
Her song is still and stifled,
Muted by the persistent raindrops,
Which splash on each green leaf.
Patient, her mind flies –
Remembers blue sky,
Cool currents and wisps of clouds,
Sunshine and bright flowers –
She remembers and soars free.
Word Dance,
Lovely imagery here throughout, and the texture or weight of the water is quite powerful: “Hindered by this world of wetness”. I like thinking about wetness as a weight with the hope of drying out and releasing.
Sarah
I really enjoy this reminder that joy is everywhere ~ hidden sometimes, dependent on us to find it, but there if we listen. Your poem captures so much hope!
This poem reminds me of my mothers saying to me ” this to shall pass.” The sparrow’s patience allows it to be free. I wish had more patience in life to be free :). Excellent poem and sparrows are on my favorite birds because the work the hardest. Excellent poem!
Wonderful images here even for someone like me who doesn’t enjoy birds. I love the idea of the sparrow huddling, sheltering, listening, and eventually soaring free! Gorgeous words, Word Dancer! One day, I’d love to know more about your name here.
I am enjoying all of the new types of poetry during #VerseLove. I am enjoying pausing to take a moment to think and clear my mind. It’s definitely liberating! Stacey, I am definitely feeling your prompt this morning. I am tired and all of this severe weather and rain is draining! Your first stanza resonates with me because it reminds me of the fun times as a young child when there were no cares:
“Oh, if this land had the same amount of joy
as popsicle-stained cheeks
and sisters giggling in summer sun,
Earth could unclench her fists
and smile with rainbows.”
I love rainbow sherbet, so that’s what my lips would be stained with. But Earth being able to release the tension and breath with unclenched fists and loose that smile, is a place where I want to be! Thank you for sharing and here’s mine. I think I want to play around with it a little more, but not today.
Inside, Outside, and All-Around
The joy bubbles up
Courage and motivation
to stain hands that mold
minds eager for attention
Giving them freedom to choose.
Jessica,
I was also thinking about hands today, and your invitation to think of “stain hands”. And then with your note, I feel like I want to imagine rainbow sherbet stains and not stains from the remains of pain or harm. Choose sherbet!
Sarah
How interesting Sarah! And I love that! For dessert last night, I wanted some sherbet, but I chose an oatmeal raisin cookie instead. I guess I’m still thinking of food. But, you made the perfect analogy of the rainbow sherbet stains instead of “stains from the remains of pain or harm.” That’s golden!
Jessica,
Beautiful metaphor of a teacher as potter willing to “stain hands that mold /minds…” They are vessels who can choose to fill themselves. Lovely poem.
Thank you Glenda, I think my subconscious is telling me something. I need to try my thumb green!
Hi Jessica! This is fun! I would have been that friend who scooped all the orange sherbet out from around the other flavors! LOL.
Today, I’m captivated again by opening lines that bring me so much joy!
Love this! ?
Thank you for your kinds words, but Oh no Stacey, we would’ve had an exchange of words…I don’t play when it comes to my food. ? ?
[Thank you, Stacey, for inviting joy and liberation today. My sister sent a video yesterday of my nephew learning to play piano with two hands. I am not pianist, but it struck me as quite lovely imagining the possibilities of using hands to make music — when so many hands are being used for harm.]
One hand can play chords,
the same hand can play bass,
the other can play melodies,
but together our hands can
progress a song of self.
Beautiful!
a song of self. what a beautiful thought. It seems as if the world is full of hands playing discordant songs these days…
Sarah,
My stepdad is a self-taught gifted pianist. I instantly pictured my little hands trying to do both the chords and the bass and the melodies but it all resulted in frustration! No songs! I love this poem. I hope your little nephew sticks with it.
?
Sarah, we need to make our songs of self, find the time to create ourselves, find the joy of discovering us. Imagine what could be-come. You have discovered joy in the gift shared with you and the sharing it with us.
That song of self reminds me of the Coca Cola song of the 1970s, I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing…..in perfect harmony……such a beautiful thought, hands that do harm turning to make music instead.
The Women’s Liberation Movement
Taught us to accept our bodies,ourselves
So, I look in the mirror
Seeing my youthful edges softening
Freeing myself from the tyranny of the weighty voices
Finding joy and peace in the grace of my present essence
Absolutely! Love: youthful edges softening –
Needed to read this today! The edges softening and the present essence are such beautiful phrases to describe this acceptance.
Jennifer,
Clapping!!!! I want so much to be kinder to my “edges softening” but it’s a struggle. Your poem is a sweet reminder to all of us women who are in the fight against
Let’s liberate our minds and I’m sure our bodies will follow!!
?
Jennifer,
I’m shouting “yes” to every word of your poem today. I don’t know if you’ve ever taught ninth graders, but they can be a bit uncouth. I’ve had several over the years comment about my hair after a recent cut, and my retort was always, “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not competing in the beauty contest today.” I haven’t thought about that in a while, so thanks for sparking a memory that still makes me smile.
Stacy, thanks for this new way to say things the old way…in poetry. And Sarah, thanks for setting up the page so we can add graphics to our poems. It’s been fun each day to see how a graphic will support or expand what we have to say.
Wonder Not Worry
Wonder women wield the power
To bring about significant change
But too often we worry and maybe shirk
That when we do rearrange
Others will not support our work
Rather than worry about what others think
Let’s stand up and make a stink
Let’s get in the ring, with a shout, fight it out
Rather than worry if we’ll win the gold
Let’s wonder how things will unfold
Anna, your message is powerful, and I agree we need to make a stink, fight things out and see what will unfold. Awesome poem!
Anna, I have been sharing with my students about alliteration and this is a perfect example! I love the title! These lines resonated with me: “Rather than worry about what others think
Let’s stand up and make a stink” because as “Wonder Women” who “Weild” the power to do, to be, to say, let us speak up and speak out so that our voices are heard. Yes, let’s not worry, but wonder how we will all make it through these wavering times!
Anna, yes, yes, yes!
I’m reminded of how many times in the past 2 years I’ve heard that Black women have always been the center of movements that matter. We have to stand up!
Powerful poem, my friend!
?
A power-packed poem. “Let’s stand up and make a stink” – love this line. Let’s!
The image goes perfectly with the poem.
Anna,
You are a force, a wonder woman, and I’m grateful to you. I love this poem, especially these lines:
“Rather than worry about what others think
Let’s stand up and make a stink”
I have a reputation of saying what I think and sometimes wish I were more adept at diplomacy and tact, so I really love this validation of stink makers like me!
Stacey—Your first stanza reverberated in my heart—the joy of popsicle stained cheeks and sisters giggling. If only we could unclench our collective fists. Thank you for your imagery and your inspiration.
Joy in the Morning
There is “joy in the morning
when I awake
to welcome the dawning day”,
the words of a favorite hymn
I learned 50 years ago in a small church in a small town.
“Joy overwhelming, flooding my heart
and driving my cares away”
It took so long for me to find
my joy again.
I thought it was lost.
Covid pushed me into retirement.
Then my husband’s cancer pushed me
into a world of dread, fear, hospitals,
home visits and many months later, a second chance.
It took so long, finding my joy.
Today, I find joy everywhere I look.
Leisurely mornings, sleeping dogs and hot coffee.
My husband, still with me.
A granddaughter, our first, born this spring
Laughter as I (fail to) master new dance steps in class…
Joy can be anywhere.
Joy is everywhere.
Joy is small; joy is grand.
Joy overwhelms me.
Joy drives my cares away.
GJSands
4/13/2022
Gayle, your poem reflects your struggles so well, and I am so happy that you now have a granddaughter. Your poem shares how well we can find joy anywhere. Love your final line “Joy drives my cares away”! I’m so glad you were able to find joy once again and good luck with the dance steps….sounds like fun!
Gayle – I feel like dancing to the rhythms of your lines. And I am not even a dancer!! Joy anywhere, everywhere, small and great, driving one’s cares away. I celebrate that you and I turned to songs of faith today to express joy in enduring and overcoming. I almost lost my husband in 2019 and he is still here to see our little granddaughter born last fall. I often think of “joy cometh in the morning” and that our joy should be full or complete… this kind of joy radiates from your words!
Gayle, this resonated with me as I suffered for so long in a joyless life!
Laughing at life (dance class) and the joy we find everywhere if we take the pauses to look and really see the joy!
All joy!!
?
Gayle,
We hear it said so often that joy comes after sorrow. In my head I know it’s true, but in my heart it creates hurt. I know, as do you, the joy of those simple church songs. Thank you for helping me think about some today, and I’m sending you lots of love for more joy in that grandbaby, those fur babies, time with your husband, and all the good things in life.
Gayle, what I love about this poem is the acknowledgement that there is no true joy without hardship, the difficulties pointing to the things we can be grateful for, big and small.
Sarah, I have to say – – that picture at the top of today’s post that goes with Stacey’s title is fabulous! I’m giggling, looking at the joy of the child flying the kite (and all the breezy freedom)! Perfect.
Stacey, your poem illustrates collective and personal freedom so beautifully!
Joy and Liberation
My joy is wrapped in simpler packages these days
Found in the quiet of predawn
The birds at the feeder
The caterpillars mysterious metamorphosis
My body moving as I’d like it to.
There are shackles that still bind these days
Bad habits that have to be broken
Gloomy, insecure thinking
Guilt from having too much
Guilt from not doing enough.
Liberation is found in meaningful discourse
Looking for the helpers
Pants that still fit
Folks pointing the way out
Love that doesn’t quit.
The last line is the abiding comfort – love conquers all. But your dedication to the commitment of the simpler life, of having less and enjoying more is inspiring to me. I need to do more of the same (pants don’t fit), (body doesn’t move the way I want it to)…….I need to look for the helpers in my world and listen to them!
Chris, I find that so many of us writers find joy in “the quiet of predawn.” It’s my favorite time of day. My mind is clearest then. As always, you address truths with such clarity: the gloomy insecurity, the guilt. As always, you are triumphant, fed by nature and your natural wit: Those pants that still fit! Love the nod to Mister Rogers (“look for the helpers”) and this offering of help: Meaningful discourse, relying on on another, and love not quitting. Such power packed in simplicity of verse.
Your last stanza is beautiful. The helpers, pants that still fit (YES!!!), pointing the way out, love that doesn’t quit. What more do we need? (Especially the pants part!)
I love your joy in the simple things and that ultimately Love doesn’t quit. That’s the way out…
cmargos, I adore the opening, the way it takes me in so quietly and lovingly.
And the acceptance of what really matters is shown here so well:
Thank you for this gift!
?
I love how you zoom in on the simple joys and even the wording
Dear Stacey: Your poem resounds with the simple joys of childhood and with a mighty sense of release. It amazes me how you accomplished this. I love how you call us to joy and liberation this morning – for these should go hand-in-hand. Speaking of joy: thank you for this invitation to try a new form! As I reflected on what brings me joy and liberation, the song “Ode to Joy” came to mind. I went with it. The title and last verse comprise the last lines of each Gogyohka.
Listen
it is there
in feathered new-morning stirrings
before the sun’s rising
ode to joy
Believe
it is there
the golden key of redemption turning
in the locked human heart
ever singing, march we onward
Look
it is there
illuminating the faces of generations
clasping their grandchildren
victors in the midst of strife
Dig
it is still there
the uninhibited dance of childhood
a wellspring pure and free as birdsong
joyful music leads us sunward
Create
and it is there
a record of your existence
your own vital contribution
in the triumph song of life
Fran, this symphony of song and the last lines of each stanza lines of the ode to joy in order to fit each call to action verb and the evidence that is seen for that word – – I’m hearing the melody, feeling the inspiration of looking for the beauty in these moments, this joy of the day that is there for the finding when we take the time to count our blessings as you have done here this morning. I’m hearing the words….God, our father, we adore thee…….they’ll stay with me all day!
Fran-your music carries through the poem—an ode to joy, truly. I, too, was inspired by music—funny how music and joy are so firmly intertwined…
Love this. The first words in each stanza really stand out and make one pause and notice their importance. Thank you.
Fran, another masterpiece!
First off, the single words to call our attention: Listen, Believe, Look, Dig, Create. We must take heed because those 5 words can change the course of our day/week/lives!
And this stanza gives me a sense of joy and hope and the desire to push onward:
I love it!
?
Fran, I love how you incorporated Ode To Joy in this! I also love the one syllable commands that start each stanza leading me into discovery and life! Reminds me of “Ask…Seek…Knock.”
Fran,
It’s the verbs that capture and command both my attention and my purpose: “Listen, Believe, Look, Dig, Create.” Those last three lines call to each of us and are, I believe, why we are here to
“Create
a record of [our] existence
[our] own vital contribution
in the triumph song of life”
I just finished reading “The Comfort Book,” which contains a line that says, “Being > doing.” Your poem reminded me that it is enough to live as we are w/out the encumbrances of expectations.
Fran,
I know I can always count on your poems to resonate/impress. The way you went with stanza starting with a different verbs works so well. I especially love these lines:
Stacey, thank you for inspiring us today. Your lines “if this body could be liberated/
on kite string/or butterfly wings/it would stand naked” are a powerhouse of words and energized me this morning.
——
womenstrua-libera-tion, a play on life
deliverance of the sun rising
over a fem-horizon, dawns
unfettering potential of rebirth
relief, regret in rhythmic cycles
Stefani, I am struck by the creativity of “womenstrua-libera-tion”, the mashuped desire in that one word. I also like the last line, the inclusion of emotions that are intimately tied to natural cycles. Since I am on the other side now, it made me realized that I don’t miss that seesaw…
Stefani, your creative mind has made these plays on words, from the first word womenstrua-libera-tion and the hyphenated period cycle to the fertile words of the last line – relief, regret in rhythmic cycles. This is one amazing and liberating poem – you took the powerhouse of Stacey’s words and energy and let them become a conduit to your own amazing writing this morning.
“A play on life” – indeed and absolutely; I have a sense of concentric circles and Mother Earth encompassing all cycles of life. Fascinating poem and wordplay, Stefani!
Stefani,
I am loving the hyphens in your lines today and the way enjambment offers our eyes and minds into the “rhythmic cycles.”
Sarah
Stefani, wow, you pay such respect to the female cycles! I don’t know how you thought of it but it’s beautiful, peaceful, and loving. I definitely don’t miss my uterus or my cycles LOL but I am still appreciative of what gifts our cycles are.
Great play on words as well as the “play on life”.
❣️
Stefani, your play with words both grounds them into the lines and frees them simultaneously, which is such a beautiful contradiction. They carry weight and lightness. And I LOVE that women exist strongly in every line.
Stefani,
Like Christine, I’m awed by “womenstrua-libera-tion” and “fem-horizon.” Your poem sings of possibility for all things female.
Stacey, the images of joy you painted for me today are inspiring indeed, floating on kite strings and butterfly wings! Bliss!
I woke to a purple hued sky this morning, my definition of joy!
Joy
Joy is waking to glowing skies
The sound of birds rousing me
Gotta look look look
Magnificent hues adorn the palette
Soon dissipates to a new day
Christine, that urgency of gotta look look look is exactly the don’t-miss-the-fleeting-moment-of-joy reminder we all need to stop and admire the beauty of the morning. At our busiest time of the day as we get dressed and ready to go to work, we miss so much of the beauty of these most sacred hours as the world awakens, yawns, stretches, and opens its eyes….and smiles.
Morning is one of my favorite times, Christine, for the reasons you give here – the beauty of sunrise, birdsong, the promise of a new day. The joy in your poem is palpable!
Gotta look look look ~ great line. You have to look, but it’s a call to the reader to look as well!
Christine, this is a glorious morning poem! I wish my skies had purple hues in the morning. Thank you for this beauty!
?
Christina, I also love those glowing skies (mine have more oranges of late) and birds in the morning. Their song just feels more inviting. We need those reminders to look!
The joy of the start of a new day is hard to beat. The slate of events is clean. Then to see the glowing skies and hear the sounds of birds does make it magnificent, indeed. Thanks for this.
Christine,
I’d love to see that sky. Did you take a photo. I agree: “Joy is waking to glowing skies.” I wish for these every day, but today delivered a white, snow-filled sky, so I’m living vicariously through your words and seeing the sky through your words.
I do feel joy when I see and hear those things.
Stacey, this prompt is a blessing, pure and simple. You know I love a Haiku, and this just adds 14 more syllables to all the joy! Speaking of joy — your two stanzas seem to go with your name – Joy of rainbow smiles! My heart smiles just reading it.
Today I write from a place of growing, which a year ago was a place of wondering. I stumbled across a book by Kobi Yamada, illustrated by Gabriella Barouch, entitled maybe while in Asheville, North Carolina last week. I was mesmerized, and this book has become my Year 2 of daily writing cheerleader. It’s worth the read, it’s worth the purchase, it’s worth reading every morning as a reminder of all the maybes.
The Journey of a Year of Writing Begins with a Single Word
preparing to write
outlining themes for the year
selecting topics
calendarizing stories
scheduling daily blog posts
I used to wonder
how writers write every day
for an entire year
now the mystery is solved:
we plan ahead, write ahead
I celebrated
a year of daily writing
in February,
began Year Two with Journeys
and moved to April Poems
May will be Moments
June hasn’t been decided
it will flash through my
soul like lightning, revealing
itself as my monthly theme
I’ll collect ideas
I may write four posts one day
only one the next
I never stop editing
even after it’s posted
this is for you: yeah,
you: writer, friend, inspirer
there holding the gift
wondering what to do next –
add one more month to your goal!
At the end of two
months, you’ll be one-sixth of the
way through the whole year!
you’ll tell yourself: I CAN WRITE
every day. It’s who I am.
You’ll think, I should push
myself, pace myself, take the
ultra-marathon
writing challenge and write each
day – if only one sentence
You are almost one
half of the way through April!
you’ve firmly begun
chart your course, revise your goal!
imagine what you’ll achieve!
take up this gauntlet
that has landed at your feet
place it on your hand
see it as your writing glove
continue on this journey!
open that journal
break out those favorite pens
start that daily blog
take the short postcard approach:
begin with one sentence. Go!
Morning Kim, your accomplishment described in your poem is commendable and impressive. I always love a play on words, so your “calendarizing stories” is a hit. Thank you for sharing today.
You’ve inspired me this morning especially when you placed those words in bold – this is for you! And challenging is to start with one sentence: Go! You’ve encouraged me to consider and I thank you for that. I know my life is clearer when I write
Kim: I am in awe of the profusion of words that spill from your fingers and heart this morning! How fitting that this outpouring should be on writing, flowing as free and natural as a mountain stream. In short: We think we can’t because we don’t. To quote Yoda: Do. Or do not. There is no try. I started my blog in 2016 because I knew – as much as i loved to write – that I needed to write more and to interact with other teacher-writers. I never imagined just how much my world – my soul! – would be enlarged by it. I’d take part in various weekly challenges and monthlong March Slicing with TWT, which led to sustaining daily writing for two months straight with VerseLove. This year, when I posted on Jan. 1st and then on Jan. 2nd, I wondered…could I-? Is it possible-? I didn’t make it a goal. I just get up and write. Today makes #103.You are SO right in all you say here; especially in “I can – it’s who I am.” It IS. Thank you for all your amazing words, encouragement, and inspiration, writerly-wonder friend.
PS – another marvel – the Syllable Queen strikes again, gloriously.
Open that journal – that says it all. words are freedom. Thank you!
Yes, Kim, I needed this advice! I’ve been thinking about extending my writing to more than February, April and our monthly Open Writes. You’ve given a perfect layout. And even if it’s just one sentence or one short poem, it’ll be a step in the “write” direction!
Thank you, friend!?
Kim, I love how you motivate us all to write each day in this poem, and how you provide suggestions to the writer to begin this somewhat “daunting” task of writing every day. I tried to set up a blog earlier this year, but please share advice if there is a particular one that you think is easy to use, etc.
Kim, I adore this invitation to join in – and it’s truly an invite (it celebrates and gathers and nudges). These lines are my favorites:
“this is for you: yeah,
you: writer, friend, inspirer
there holding the gift
wondering what to do next –
add one more month to your goal!”
What a gift to hold from you to all of us today! I need your invitation as my daily nudge.
Kim,
I’ve loved reading about your year of writing both here and on your blog. I wish I’d known you were posting every day sooner as you offer such wonderful, inspiring words, and here you’ve given us all the steps for making writing part of every day. I’ve had long stretches of writing in the past; for example, all the professional writing, including my year of writing for the NEA Master Teacher Project. I also have hundreds of pages of personal writing scattered to the four corners. I had plans to organize and revisit these pages at the beginning of the year, but you know that’s been detoured. Still, I do have a plan–several actually–for more daily writing after this month, and I have been keeping a mood journal every day since Jan 1, so there has been some daily writing on my part. I love the way you anticipate our thinking and break down the percentages to show progress that becomes inspiration. Thank you.
So inspiring. Bravo!
Stacey, what a wonderful treat to read your poetry this morning. Absolutely love the stand naked line! Thank you for hosting:)
Thanks, Barb. I am a work in progress because I can’t do the naked mirror freedom shout yet. LOL.
Stacey, your moments of joy – the popsicle stained cheeks and giggling sisters – overcome all that causes the earth to clench its fists (such a powerful image). Thank you for bringing your joy to us today and giving us the chance to play with happiness. My poem could be so much more, but it gave me joy to not fiddle with it today (as much as I want to develop a full joy ride).
Joy Ride
No rules, just the words and me
Finding themselves completely free
In a finger tapping, letter stacking
Word shacking
Five line liberation
Jennifer, your poem speaks to our space here, let it ride and go with it–a poetic drafting liberation. I can’t help but feel a musical element with your “finger tapping” and gerund use. Thank you for sharing.
Jennifer, you created such a vivid images of writing this verse today. I love the thought of finger tapping and letter stacking.
Jennifer, I’m laughing at word shacking…..this liberation of bending the syllable rules like Kevin and this finger tapping, letter stacking way that you have found and brought joy to us this morning is the zest of creative liberty and freedom of expression!
This is THE. TRUTH. Your words in themselves are a joy, Jennifer, with the rhymes and rhythms of lines. I adore “word shacking”! Writing IS liberation. You are singing my song. 🙂
I really feel the beat here, I read it aloud and it is fun!
Jennifer,
I so appreciate this thinking about “finding themselves” in moves of “finger tapping, letter stacking/Word shacking.” The rhythm in these words lives possibilities!
Sarah
This is lovely ~ joy and liberation in the very rhythm of your finger tapping, letter stacking word shacking! Wonderful!
Ohhh, this needs to be sung and shouted! Jennifer, your poem is what defines Joy Ride for us writers here!
The end, magnificent! Fun, fun, fun!
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Yes! A joy ride! I imagine windows down, singing at the top of my lungs, pure exhilaration! And applied to writing—wow! Let the finger tapping and letter stacking ensue!
I can picture you tapping your fingers while you arrange the words to a poem. When the composition comes together it is indeed liberation. Your five lines say it well here.
Jennifer,
I’m reading your poem as a companion piece to Kim’s. Hers offers specific strategies while yours reminds us to throw caution to the wind and enjoy the writing ride. It’s the ying and yang of writing. Love the sounds in your poem and the pacing: “Finger tapping, letter stacking, / Word shacking.” Let’s go!
Word Shacking … hmmm
Kevin
The pace of these lines were so fun to read and follow!
(I like having rules, and then breaking them)
Joy is a single leaf, falling,
the ground caressing it, calling it
with a rooted song of wonder;
the leaf rests easy, now, settled
on a brittled blanket of elders
— Kevin
Kevin, that image of a single leaf falling calling me to stop and pause. I imagine myself getting caught up in the slow movement and it surrounds me with peace. I’ll carry this thought through my day!
Kevin, I love this idea of creating a familial/generational sense of the leaves through your use of “blanket of elders.” Thank you for sharing.
You fabulously and uninhibitedly break the rules and look what happens – – an 8,9,8,8,9 Hodgson Special! The rooted song of wonder falling to this blanket is beautiful. It reminds me of the visual leaf drop that e.e.cummings used to show the twist of the leaf in a leaf falls loneliness the way he flipped the af in leaf and fa in fall in the broken words he so creatively made famous.
Kim — thanks for reminding of this eec poem! Hugs, Susie
Mmm-mmm, Kevin — and here we are, each a “single leaf,” resting on the “brittled blanket of [our] elders. Geez, this is exquisite. You did this form proud and once again started my day with something beautifully meaningful. Thank you. Susie
Kevin,
“single leaf, falling,”
I read this line several times thinking about the commas holding “falling” and holding the leaf as it eased into the “,now,” all “settled.”
The “blanket of elders” is so welcoming and caring for the leaf’s life. I only hope I rest easy like the leaf.
Peace,
Sarah
Kevin,
Yes, let’s break the rules! That’s what the world needs, right?
“Joy is a single leaf, falling” can stand alone, it is the perfect start and a poem in itself. Every line has its own beauty.
I want to try this with my class. Write a single line to describe Joy! Thank you!
Well, written poem.