Our Host
Stefani Boutelier, Ph.D. is an Associate Professor of Education at Aquinas College in Grand Rapids, MI. Most of her K-12 classroom teaching was at the secondary level in Southern California. She works with inservice graduate teacher-researchers and teaches literacy and curriculum design courses for preservice educators. Her published works are in both academic and creative genres. @stefboutelier
“Titles”
I recently attended a “Poetry as Self-pedagogy” workshop with poet Oscar Saavedra. A short conversation during this workshop led me to consider the complexities and power of the titles we give our poems. Titles can be designed at any point of the poetry writing process, yet, it is important to remember how significant a title might be for our audience and their interpretation. Word choice, after all, is key in poetry.
First, read this translated poem by Chilean artist Claudio Bertoni:
I’d like to be a nest if you were a little bird.
I’d like to be a scarf if you were a neck and were cold.
If you were music, I’d be an ear.
If you were water, I’d be a glass.
If you were light, I’d be an eye.
If you were a foot, I’d be a sock.
If you were the sea, I’d be a beach.
And if you were still the sea, I’d be a fish,
and I’d swim in you.
And if you were the sea, I’d be salt.
And if I were salt, you’d be lettuce,
an avocado or at least a fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg,
I ‘d be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread,
you’d be butter or jam.
If you were jam,
I’d be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach,
you’d be a tree.
And if you were a tree,
I’d be your sap…
and I’d course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood,
I’d live in your heart.
Take a moment to consider how you would title this poem. Is it about a romantic partnership, a parent-child relationship, or something else? As the audience, we can only determine this based on our interpretation of the words or our own experiences.
Here is the original title of this poem in Spanish: “Para Una Joven Amiga Que Intentó Quitarse La Vida” and the English translation: “For a young friend who tried to take her own life.”
Now, read the poem again partnered with the complexity of the poem’s title. Did this change the meaning for you? Did it change your emotions as you read it, now knowing who the poem was for? Would you agree that this title has a significant impact on the context?
Another example of a complex or multi-meaning title is Lucille Clifton’s “Climbing.”
For my writing, I decided to play around with the title and words in this nonette poem:
“Press Eject”
Inhale, only the positive, breathe
In, exhale internal stressors
Inquisitive flow of air
In pivoting reply
Into life’s unknown
Increase mind-set
In upgrade
Incline
Out
Today I invite you to write a poem where the title helps identify its content, theme, or purpose. The topic and form are up to you–the focus today is on the title. You might consider one of the following to guide you today:
- Use Bertoni’s concrete title-style, meaning the title removed would significantly change the meaning of the poem.
- Use the wordplay tactic of Clifton for your title-style.
- Return to a poem you’ve written in the past and create a title change that might alter the context.
- Write a poem with a twist, then invite all of us to title it for you. Later tonight, return to the comments and share what your original title was.
- Use a witty double entendre as your title and inspiration for writing today.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
What a cool concept! It’s been a long day (you’ll see why through the poem or through its title in the comments), so my poem is pretty basic tonight. I did my best ?
The show eagerly returns to Broadway or, rather, Church Street.
A drum line welcomes its audience to build the anticipation before ushers guide the viewers to their designated seats.
These guests held tickets for this show for over a year, so the actors need to give them something to cheer.
Excitement and fear extend through the theater, but stage fright can’t stop us.
No, not now after all we’ve been through.
The show, indeed, must go on.
House lights project to center stage.
Bell dings to signal the actors when to begin.
Finally, the black curtain lifts
Unveiling the young, masked faces.
Title: Back to School
Wow.
Yes!! Unveiling them has begun! I enjoyed this poem, even if you are tired and think it is just basic. Open Church Street back up and let them in.
Back to school indeed. Its been experimental theater for me these first few days. Theater where many of the audience members mumble in the call and response portion of the performance, or extended exercises in utter silence. I fear we’ve all forgotten how to talk to each other. A very effective metaphor.
some days I feel that history is written all over my body
the pressure in my left knee
as it hangs by the side of the bed
the knee which released blood into needles
some days
the divet at the tip of my nose
shines bright, whiter than the surrounding skin
a mohs procedure a few years back
some days
I consider polishing that toe nail
still misshapen after a collison with the
recycling bin wheel more than a year ago
some days
the crescent scars on the first and second knuckles
remind me of a kitchen I’d hoped not to remember
and a glass that shaped them in a soapy sink
some days
I smile about my oh so thin legs
and am reminded of my father
who was embarrassed to run on to the court
title: only my body
Jamie,
I think this would be a fantastic mentor poem/idea for one of our inspirations.
I love the specific things about your body and the story behind each one.
Jamie, these lines are powerful, so much to wonder and imagine:
You’re captivating me in this journey through your life with stories your skin tells. I love it!
Title: Secret Stories My Skin Tells
Tough women
The women wait on you hand and foot
The women that scrub at the soot
The women takes care of you even when it’s like walking on nails barefoot
Time
Flying high in the sky
The road skips past below
How have I never been this high?
Look at me, yipee
I am a woman, not a care
in the world.
Leadership?
That’s not for me
I am just a women
don’t you see?
Every day I cook and clean
anything to take care
of my family.
A typical women
With nothing on her
Mind.
Do we really want
This to be how it is?
Have we not left the 1950’s?
Enraged is how I Feel! This is not
Okay with me!
I await the day that
Men take a step
Back
And realize.
Realize what?
One may ask
Stop believing the
Lies
Self-policing each other
Has gone too far.
Humans are equal
We all have ideas
For new things.
I Plead!
Please listen.
People need to hear
Women’s voices.
We have thoughts on our
Mind to be more Unified.
I hate to magnify the differences
But the views are unchanging
Stop dehumanizing us
And Include us.
-Title Unknown
Tarshana, I enjoyed your poem. It sets us free!
Title: Freedom Woman
Thank you, Dr. Boutelier. This has been the most challenging prompt yet. Here it goes…
A Sort of Sonnet/A Sonnet of Sorts
School kids support bears.
Schools kid support bears.
Schools support kid bears.
Schools bear kids’ support.
Bears support school kids.
Bear schools support kids.
Bear supports kids schools.
Support bears school kids.
Support school bear kids.
Support bears kid schools.
Support kid bear schools.
Kids bear school support.
Kid bears support schools.
Kids school support bears.
What’s the title?
Some things seem sturdy at first glance:
Drink glasses, cell phones, bones, egos,
But that’s really the rub, isn’t it? Those things
That purport to be strong are often the most
Delicate and fragile. Whereas something like
A glass or a phone can be replaced or repaired,
The cracks in bones or the fissures in self-esteem
Are not always so easily remedied. Crashing sounds
Of breaking glass, splintering wood, cracking rock,
And snapping plastic don’t compare to the soul
Shattering sound of doubt. The apprehension that
Accompanies a shot to a person’s sense of being
Isn’t always visible to others. Suddenly, seemingly
Simple interactions take on new meanings.
Whereas something would have never niggled
Before, now the nagging questions needle and nod
In the background, sure of their correctness,
Undeniably persuasive that others are right and better
And true and strong and confident. Things no longer
Hold fast inside someone who has given themselves
Over to the gossamer threads of real versus fiction.
The original title is “Handle With Care.”
Wow! You had me hooked right from the beginning with such fragile imagery (I just watched a show called Blown Away on Netflix about blowing glass—it’s a perfect pairing with this poem). your word choice with fissures and self esteem helped me visualize the intangible with more clarity. additionally, the alliteration was amazing as always ? Thanks for sharing this piece today ❤️
Well, here it is. I’ll post the title as a comment 🙂
scratch of dry nib
misfired squib
drool on the bib
cheetos gone stale
no wind in the sail
a rusty bent nail
jarred mice mocking
brain cells balking
empty knocking
Titled “Writing a Poem on Day #15”
Oh, Allison, you have me laughing out loud. I am so here without any “wind in my sail” Lately, I’ve been so frustrated with my work. I am
As always your poetry consistently amazes me! Love it!
This is fantastic, Allison! I can definitely relate! The short lines are percussive, rhythmic. My favs are ‘cheetos gone stale’ and ‘jarred mice mocking”!!!! Yes, this is very much what it is like to write a poem on day 15!
I feel ya, Allison. Love “drool on the bib” and “cheetos gone stale”
I love the rhythm of your brief lines with end rhyme like the tapping of a pencil on the page waiting for inspiration
Struggling too, yall. Thanks again for this exercise, Stefani. Kept it light. What’s the title? Hehe
sleep
play games
roll their eyes
pay attention
participate, laugh
jump up and down and dance
tell parents to “Be quiet!”
stay silent for a complete hour
when someone is sleeping in their room
go make a sandwich then eat the sandwich
Angie, is this called My Students?
Hahaha! I think the last line was inspired by you if I’m remembering correctly.
An omelette! I’m dying!
Title “What Zoom Reveals”? My goodness, I don’t know! Would be so funny if it was “Teacher, Day Before Spring Break”
Angie, I love the light tone. Is it “Daycare”?
My guess is “Story Hour,” but it doesn’t fit the end. I like the form.
Title: The Things They Do Behind Screens
I’ll keep it they because in all honesty this isn’t just students.
Lol! Love it!
Oh, boy. I struggled with this one. I’m not really satisfied, but here it is for now. I’ll post the title later this evening.
He swoops in
on a wing and a prayer
nearly silent
but I knew what he wanted
he wanted to stick his nose
in my business,
my world
What gives him the right?
He can’t just take what he wants
I want to scream—
in fact, I do
at least then he skulks away
wordlessly
for now
Mo, I struggled forever with writing today, too. It’s definitely been a challenge, albeit a fun one. I kind get the idea that you’re describing a bat, but it could be a demanding person since they skulk away. I’ll be looking for your title. Thanks!
Mo, after first read I feel the title could be “My Ex” but maybe that is too obvious. A pet/child sneaking in while you are going the bathroom…forgot to the lock the door? I look forward to your title and thank you for sharing with us today.
I’m intrigued, Mo. I feel the anger here– but I also feel like I’m trying to solve a possible riddle…I’ll be checking back for the title. (Skulks is a dandy word.)
Pretty close, Barb. I’m calling this “The Heron Visits.” This giant jerk swings by my tiny backyard pond frequently. He treats it as his own private sushi bar. So aggravating!
Awesome! I feel the same when blue jays scare all the other birds away.
I’m thinking it’s a pet trying to snatch a bit of your yummy dinner….?
Mo, did a dog eat your homework? That’s my title: The Dog Ate My Homework
I’m so sleepy I can’t even see straight. I sure hope this poem was related to your dog. ?
Dr. Stefani, Thank you for the prompt. It took a lot of brainstorming and contemplation. I appreciate the challenge.
The trailing title at this time of night
Mirroring blue, purple, pink, and orange,
ripples through the air,
discreet and singularly boastful,
exposing,
slowly revealing,
brilliant symmetrical perfection.
Adorned, protected, keeping dignity,
wrapping, enfolding,
gracefully concealing,
aromatic green platforms blockade,
mirroring orange, pink, blue, and purple
into the black cascade.
The Canadian Water Lily
Linda, Love the beautiful imagery throughout your poem. The colors are rich. I especially liked the last two lines:
I’m going to search for your flower, sounds marvelous!
Linda, the colors and the use of gerunds help build the flow of the water and the movement of your poem. I enjoy the idea of the black cascade in your final line. Thank you for sharing.
Linda, this is lyrical and imagistic. I like how you mirrored the order of the colors in their second repetition.
I love the title coming at the end! This is gorgeous! I thought it was reflection of spring flowers in the water…or perhaps beautiful, multi-colored fish…
I appreciate the insight about the importance of titles. I decided to have a little fun with mine; I’d love to hear other suggestions!
It Snakes Up On You
snaking our way down the interstate
weaving stop start slink slither
traffic stretches out languidly then
abruptly coils in tight blind curves
heavy-bodied highway slowing to a crawl
periods of only subtle movement
serpentine locomotion, my spine bends
averse to being so entwined
were the roads first to protest
the pandemic, it’s insistence on lying low?
I’ve lost my traffic muscle, limbless, soft
what lurks in the many miles ahead?
may these be the only snakes encountered
this weekend in the woods
Well, bummer – I was also trying to ‘snake’ my couplets, indenting every second one . . . epic fail! You’ll have to imagine!
Maureen, I had the same thing happen to me earlier this month. The poem was formatted completely different than how it appeared so I understand your disappointment. I can imagine how you would have set this up. The snake metaphor for the traffic is striking and accessible. I appreciated your reference to questioning whether or not you’ve lost your “traffic muscle”…So many wonderful words throughout this such as lurks, limbless, slither, curve, subtle, and languidly. Wonderful poem!
Maureen, this is a fun poem and your title plays along with it. I appreciate the idea of the roads protesting the pandemic–clever!
Maureen, I love “I’ve lost my traffic muscle.” The line reminds me that we lost so many things we didn’t even know we HAD until we lost them. Traffic muscle. I also like the big snake feel of the highway.
I feel your weariness as you make your way through the stanzas – weaving stop start slink slither, abruptly coils in tight blind curves – the amusement in these words – were the roads first to protest, hope you leave the road tomorrow
Maureen,
I could tell by your playful title that this was going to be an enjoyable poem to read. I really like these lines:
Maureen, this is a clever way to describe the traffic. You and all the fellow drivers are the snake. It would be interesting to hear a version of this unwilling snake collaborative: “On Being a Serpent.”
But I love how, though part of it, you are entrapped. “averse to being entwined” and
Well done!
I think that I was able to come up with a poem that might take on new meaning with the title. I am putting the title at the end. I also love the nonets, so I wrote in that form.
We’re taking a trip down memory
lane. Reliving stories, singing
our favorite songs, moving
in tandem, smiles aglow.
Working together
to savor this
time before
it all
ends.
Title: Middle School Cabaret: A Trip Down Memory Lane
Heather, What about “A Memory Cabaret”? I like your words of “working together to savor” to build the community of those who are part of your poem.
I like that title. Thank you.
Heather, Ahhhh, I love this poem’s bright and happy tone. “moving/in tandem, smiles aglow. Beautiful! This form works so well with your topic.
The story/emotions of this poem fit beautifully with the shape of the nonet – I can almost see the chatter of reliving memories moving towards the end, the quiet, when it is all over. Love the word savor with memories! So dear. I might have called the poem that – “Savoring.”
This is a poem I originally wrote on April 6, 2020 for #Verselove.
I didn’t write a title for this poem in my notebook. What title would you give it?
I use a manual device
That makes communication so nice.
Keel over, I might
From composing all night.
But, my word choice has to be precise.
I scour the World Wide Web
Curious to what others have said.
Scroll through social media;
Consider Wikipedia.
But, careful to vet what I’ve read.
Thank you, Dr. Boutelier, for giving me permission to revisit a previously written poem.
Donnetta, I really like your poem and totally relate:
The title? – yikes, this is challenging! What about something a little punny “To Be Precise”?
I like Maureen’s suggestion.
I am not good with titles and many of my poems are titleless. My first thought was Scrolling.
Then, it reminded me of the song and I thought – Scrolling on a Late Night Avenue. Ugh! I will be curious to see what others recommend.
Heather, very cool title.
The Notebook?
Donnetta, I am glad you chose to revisit this poem. What about something opposite for your title–“Unsharpened Pencil” or “The New Pen & Paper.”
Donetta, I love the focus on getting just the right word so I was thinking the title might be “Perfection” or “The Right Word” etc. I think I fuss over word choice more than anything when writing, and then I think I sometimes overthink it. You have incredible skill with rhythm and rhyme that helps make your poems sing just as this one does. Thanks!
Donetta, I feel a sense of Deja Vu when reading your poem. The working all night for the perfect words. You captured that in a brain-tugging, light-heartedness. I’ll through in the mix, “Manually Precise!”
Donnetta, I’m so late tonight with reading and responding. I have to confess, I am one who will spend waaaaaay too much time trying to find a great title. I literally spent the last 10 minutes thinking about your poem and proposing titles in my mind. I’m giving up. LOL. I think my brain was happy with “Put The Phone Down” and that’s when I realized I must be tired.
I totally relate to your poem and no title came to my tired brain.
Dr. Boutelier,
Thank you for this challenge! I don’t always know how to summarize my thoughts into a title without spoiling the ending, so I often leave them incredibly vague or incomplete.
I followed the trend of hiding the title until the end. Let me know what you think!
This is the first line
And a second like it
The first line of a new stanza
Hinting at new life…
…or is it the death of the first?
How do you know the difference
Between two seasons?
When one starts…
…another ends
Or is it possible to exist
Dually…simultaneously
Periods are satisfying.
.
You know where the precluding existence
ends.
Semicolons;
Commas,
Dashes-
Colon:
Ellipses…
Are often unsettling…
…because what if they don’t conclude?
Do they…
…I
Remain unfinished?
And is that ok?
What if the end is…
[spoiler title=”First Steps…Trauma Response “]
This is so witty! Love the ellipses so much! . . . Love this, especially:
Bailey, I think the spoiler setting might need a reset. Thank you for this poem and your title does indeed change its meaning. Your use of punctuation brings perfect pause to your ideas and questions.
Bailey, wow, this is an outstanding poem especially when I realized at the end how serious your topic truly is. I loved the line: “Periods are satisfying.” I also enjoyed the catalog of punctuation marks. Very thought-provoking poem!
Stefani, I love to do the “untitled poem” exercise with Sylvia Plath’s “Mushrooms.” We always get some really great interpretation of the poem without the title, and that leads us to some terrific discussion of how titles mean.
Here is my offering for today:
Seistina
With a mouth full of daring
She challenges me: Are you yellow?
She seems to imply, spoiling for a fight
Baiting me, without intent, to help her grow.
In the backseat, tensions build
What is it about this time?
The end product of slow time
Grown fast with skirts too daring
A too-adult build
And me in the sere of age, yellow
Wishing that she’d slow the grow
Wishing that she’d muster a harder fight.
But for her freedom she hungers, fights.
Yawning before her, she sees nothing but time
She watches–but just watches–young love grow
Never one to be too daring
In that muddy area of pre-adult yellow
She fears the steps to build.
I fear her build
Knowing as I do the fight
The occasions to quail and cry yellow
That come with time, trial, and failure
The dangerous knife-edge of daring
And risks that deepen and grow.
And so we grow
In a new direction and build
Out into the void, bodies made of daring.
I resign myself to accept the fight.
(What is it, this time?)
Even as, bilious, I call her yellow
And raise her temper: red; yellow;
Green light for her anger to grow.
If I give her some time
The learning will build.
She’ll learn how to fight
And not to fear the daring.
Out in the void, she’ll grow, build
Not too yellow to fight
Just in time to be daring.
Wow! This is great. Such a lot of creative thought, creating a sestina! I had to look this up. These two lines jump out at me:
Such empathy for this stage of life, and perhaps a clever play on this stage of poetry writing? I am at the infantile stage of sestina!
I seem to be in a punny mood – I want to call this sestina “Young Yellow”
Wendy, I like how you poem repeats yellow and then when you get to the red, yellow, green for anger the imagery really pops out. Thank you for sharing.
Wendy, I just read Plath’s Mushrooms, and it is a perfect activity for this title work, like Bertoni’s poem. Wow, you writing a beautiful sestina today. I had to look it up to remember what that was, actually. I’m not sure I understood fully, but it seems to me you “Pass on the Daring” here:
Beautiful
Hi Stefani! What fun!! I enjoyed the mentor poem and yours as well. I was taken by surprise on the mentor poem’s title. It definitely changed my interpretation. I am a fan of nonet poems, love a poem with syllable count rules. LOL. I went back to a poem I wrote in April of 2020, reworked it, and can’t wait to see what titles our friends here may suggest.
3:41 Saturday morning
screaming, gasping, emerge, crying
let me breathe, please, let me breathe
falling in slow motion
no angels rescue
me. Swallowing
tidal waves
of fear
Breathe
©Stacey L. Joy, April 15, 2021
Stacey, I’m tempted to call it “Again”. Lovely poem.
This made me shudder. I’m thinking, “On Being George Floyd in the Middle of the Night”
WOW. That’s an intense title. Sounds about right. Stacey, “This is Not a Nightmare”
DAMN. You’re right. I blew it.
?
“On Being Black” that would be much better than what I titled it: Nightmares in Black and Blue. SHUCKS I should’ve read your comments before sharing the title. LOL you all are brilliant!
Stacey, thank you for bringing this poem back to us. My title suggestion is: “We fight for your breath.”
OOOOOhhhhhh good!!
Stacey, wow, this poem is riveting. The fear is terrifying. Loved
I’m not sure I have a good title but I’m struck by a few words here such as “Breathe” or “No Angels Rescue”.
Feels like a nightmare or panic attack. I appreciated the time detail too. Excellent poem! Can’t wait to see what you will title it.
When I wrote the original poem last year, April 3rd, as an Etheree from Glenda’s prompt, it was titled Nightmares. It focused on Covid and the line I removed this time was related to the virus. Today, the new nonet version of the old Etheree is titled…
Nightmares in Black and Blue
I like it!
I think your title is perfect, Stacey. And so many other good ones here too. It’s neat how this exercise has given you more ideas and thinking about this very powerful poem. Sadly, I am just sitting here in the tragedy of your truth that these horrors don’t leave our other black countrymen even in your sleeping. I’m so sorry, my friend. Thank you for sharing this powerful message.
Stacey, when I initially read your poem, I thought about childbirth. But, after reading the comments I realize I was totally off. Very captivating poem and your title is absolutely perfect.
Stefani,
Thank you for today’s prompt. Reading the poem without the title creates a completely different experience. It definitely helps us to see the impact of the title. I never struggle with titles, but I also seldom have a provocative one or a misleading one.
I am still caught emotionally in the aftermath of a poem I wrote earlier this week, so I am staying in it and trying to move forward.
I would love to hear some title possibilities, please.
Little girl
in utero
mom’s deadly diagnosis.
the trauma pocket forms
setting the course for her life.
Little girl
age 5
rotating homes
feeling abandoned
falling down the steps.
don’t let mom see the stitches.
Little girl
age 10
running wild
attention-seeking
threats and fears
ever-present . . .
present more than mom.
Little girl
age 17
virginity lost
(little girl no longer).
mom concerned about
what the neighbors will say.
Little girl
age 20
in over her head
taking the wrong path
into others’ sacred space.
mom pretends not to see.
Little girl
age 30
having her own
little girl.
mom’s diagnosis finally won,
leaving her
to learn on her own.
Little girl
age 55
still trying
to love
the
unloved
(or unlovable?)
little girl.
~Susan Ahlbrand
15 April 2021
Susan, what a piece. I’m so glad you are staying with that little girl feeling unloved and working here to move forward. Amazing piece of writing really, as was the poem on the 12th, which I had missed. I commented on it today http://www.ethicalela.com/12-30-write-beside/#comment-36721
There are so many powerful parts — that the threats and fears were ever-present, more present than mom.
One troubling line for me is “(or unlovable?)” Actually, I am thinking of a title around this. Something like “Loved Late” or “Learning to Love the Little Girl” or “Little Girl Love” — I saw that in your first poem, that your love for your own children and the playful times with them are helping you love that little girl who is still you.
Wow, just wow. So many emotions and thoughts of my own relationship with my daughters and mom are coming through your rich poem.
Susan,
I too went back to read your first version and adore the transformation it has taken here. The power of repeating “little girl” is remarkable. What about “Lovable” as a title? Thank you for your vulnerable words that you have shared with us today.
Susan, that Zoom quote by Penny Kittle earlier this week – “one of the great gifts of poetry is that we often see what we didn’t know was there” is a keen observation and a deep truth. I’m so thankful that you are modeling personal growth as a writer – being vulnerable and inviting thoughts on the title. I admire your bravery and courage! The snapshots of time and progression of your mother’s disease is heartbreaking, running parallel with your growing up years. I’m so sorry about the struggles there. I’m grateful for your writing talent
– you are showing us how to tackle big feelings head-on.
Susan, this was beautiful–and so sad (oh, that last stanza!). I might call it “Inroad.”
Susan, I share some of the wounds of “motherlessness,” and I am at my best when I follow the advice (through therapy) to mother myself, to recognize how harsh I am being with myself. Speak tenderly to that little girl! This stanza chokes me up,
Title? Hmm. This is a tough one! “Young at Heart,” “So Lovable,” or simply, “Little Girl”
Ohhh what a powerful rewrite!! Thanks for sharing this. The repetition of “little girl” is very effective. How about “Trying to Love”
God bless the child in you! Oh my, I’m so stuck in trying to find a way to hold her, hug her, love her.
The first thought that came to mind is Unloved. But I don’t think it’s true so I don’t like it. I’m stuck.
Such aching and loss in your lines, Susan – and so much story. Family portraits sometimes aren’t as lovely as we’d make them. Some are painted with pain and (your words) trauma pockets. Having said that … Self-Portrait of the Poet. Maybe just Little Girl. I almost want to say Dear Little Girl – if the poem were epistolary. You used the word “aftermath” in the introduction about deep emotions surrounding this poem… I wonder about Aftermath for a title or part of a title… like you, I usually don’t have much trouble with titles but trying to choose one that wraps different layers of meaning is no small feat! Just keep writing – it will come! <3
Thank those of you who took the time to offer feedback and title suggestions, but, more importantly.”, empathizing with me or encouraging me. I actually started with a title before I wrote the poem, but wasn’t sure how it would play out, so I wasn’t sure if it worked. It was “Love that Little Girl.” I felt it could be me telling myself to or me telling my parents to.
I think that title is perfect, Susan. Beautiful and important double meaning.
Bryan, was it the poetry writing or ibuprofen that helped you out? I enjoy how you post your poetry as an image through social media. What a great way to promote poetry and yet be vulnerable. You provide context here to your title but that isn’t as clear in your image–I appreciate that. Thank you for sharing today.
Wow, this is incredibly difficult for some reason. I think I didn’t realize how little I pay attention to titling my own work. I slap a date and move on.. Welp, I wrote this bit in class with students the other day – without a title. Help?
Shame when I was six years old.
Shame when I held it all day long.
Shame when I worked up the nerve to ask the teacher for permission.
Shame when my hand touched the door handle.
Shame when the warmth trickled down my legs.
Shame when I walked back to the classroom.
Shame when I didn’t say anything to anybody.
Shame when picked up from school.
Shame when mami asked why my jeans were a darker shade than this morning.
Shame when the tears caught in my throat.
Title Drafts:
-Shame
-Helpless
-That Moment When..
Britt,
I love how each line starts with “Shame.” Typically I would go with that for the title however I really like the idea of “When I Was Six Years Old” for a title. Hey, that is just me.
Britt, what a beautiful poem to write with your students. I’m sure it was freeing for several of them who would have had a similar experience and to hear your openness and vulnerability in writing this will begat more open and vulnerable writing by them. Absolutely beautiful!
And I’m like you, I don’t take time to think of (or can’t) clever or special titles for my poems, so I’ve got nothing. I like your third draft, but I might suggest a different word than moment. Perhaps “That Day When…” This shame went on all day for this sweet little six year old. Waah! 🙁
Britt,
Thank you for sharing a poem you wrote with your students. I experienced a very similar situation around this age. My suggested titles: “Everyone Pees,” “It happens to us all,” and “No Shame when Nature calls.”
Britt, I would go for the third title. It creates anticipatory mystery. What happened??? You never really, really say, and the reader could think anything and identify with a variety of reasons for the change in color of your jeans. (In fact, I read so fast, I missed the age mentioned in the first line, and thought is was the first day of your mentration!….until I did not compulsory re-read to confirm. 🙂 )
I did the exact same thing! Thought it was her period, then realized the age 🙂
I like the repetition. It reinforces the shame felt consistently throughout the day. I like the third title.
Britt, my heart sank reading your poem. My daughter felt the same way this year. I work at the school she attends so I was able to help soothe her embarrassment. Nobody even knew, but I saw my daughter feel more embarrassed. My suggestion is, “No Blame in Shame.”
Britt, I am feeling so sorry for little six-year old you, not comfortable enough to ask to go before “holding it” too long. You’re right – this titling exercise is challenging! I like the idea of Shame in the title – maybe The Shame of Six. Or just Six. Or even The Waiting Shame. The Shame of Waiting. I wanted to play with Holding It In but can’t quite get there-! This is why, when students say they have “nothing to write about,”’ I say there are so many possibilities that it’s overwhelming.
I also like “That Moment When”… because this is a relatable moment, to not be in control of our bodies and feeling some shame at an early age. I love how you walk us through this moment. Oh, poor kid, I can see the jeans and the tears. Love it.
your sweet sad story – love the pattern of your lines – hate that the idea is shame – an experience shared by so many
Britt, I can see how Shame would be a consideration for a title, because of its repetition. But, for the same reason I thought of When being the title. So sorry you or someone you knew had this experience (don’t want to assume).
Dr. Boutelier,
Thank you so much for this idea about how import titles can be. I’ve really not given them much thought most of the time. When I read Bertoni’s poem, I was a little confused at times and tried to consider some of the metaphors and the different relationships–sometimes the poet was used up, and sometimes the poet was using up the other person. Ah, but then when I read the title it changed everything. I read it again and was happy that the poet was desiring to become one with the girl so she would be safe. It was such a great lesson to learn by seeing the importance of the title.
Your poem was fun to consider–starting with in(hale) and ending with out. I liked that, and the Press Eject–a choice, but a need. It did help me read with more thought and asking questions.
It became a fun exercise when I decided on this silly idea for my poem today. Please read the poem first and then read my title below.
Put it on the table
A staging of a fable
Donkey deity in the desert
Matching pants and shirt
Pieces in a collection
Go in that direction
Arrange the type for print
Vinegar will keep the tint
Pick it up and make it right
A string of LED lights
Hunting dog points
Relocate bones and joints
Concrete gets hard
Groups that score in cards
Earth’s star sleeps
That camera pose keep
Part of a tennis match
A whole cohesive batch
Start a campfire
A car’s new tires
Get ready and into the blocks
All the tools in your box
Your heart yearns for that
A suit with a matching hat
Pieces played in the band
Moving the clock’s hands
Direction of the wind
Rows of teeth above your chin
Choose a wedding date
Fix the value at a rate
We could go on for days and days
There are four-hundred, thirty ways
To use my little title word
Three letters–how absurd!
So clever! I read the whole poem and didn’t figure it out – but now that I’ve seen the title and read the poem over again, I don’t know how I missed it! Impressive rhyming as well!
Denise, this was so fun and a perfect use of the spoiler tool! It was a great mystery and I appreciate the twist you added. Thank you!
Everything about this is clever – including hiding the title!! Thank you, Denise, for stretching my mind. A real puzzle to solve!
Wonderful riddle poem, love the last stanza
I’ve guessed it! (But not until the last two couplets…because I am a cruciverbalist, and the clue is used in crosswords!) This was a delight! It was really fun to go back and re-read when I “got” the title! Bravo!
Denise,
Genius, pure genius!! I need to get out of my own dang head and allow cool ideas like this to bubble up. I don’t know how you came up with all of these things and to include rhyme on top of it!!
Stephani,
Thank you for todays prompt on titles. I realize I almost never give my poems an official title. I enjoyed looking back at old poems I’d written in the past to see if I could play with the title or add a fabulous twist. There wasn’t a right fit so I looked up poetry prompts and came up with this fun poem.
Title Coming Later
His caresses slowly rolls down my cheek
In winter it has a bit of a chill to it
Summer is when he turns up the heat
His caresses brighten my world
Causing buds to blossom and bloom
Even the grass is greener from his gentle caress
I’ve enjoyed dancing in his soft caress
Watched others dance begging for him caress them
What are your title suggestions?
DeAnna, I love that you didn’t tell us your title yet. I’ll look forward to reading it later. Beautiful image of the caress of this
Noticing where you live, I can see that you probably have gently kissing precipitation most of the year. I would call this poem “Raindrops”
I like that “Raindrops”
Deanna, thank you for letting us help you title. I would agree with Denise about something related to raindrops. I enjoy your repetition of caress to tease the reader.
Deanna, I suspect this poem might be after a furry friend. But that is just a guess. I love the anticipation. I can’t wait to hear your title! My thought would be, “Best Friend’s Caress.”
I like that title. Fun and playful.
I would title it Oregon Weather. 😉
LOL ? ?
Yes, very much Oregon weather at times.
DeAnna, what a cool poem! I love the personification and you did a lovely job. I love the repetition of the word “caress” throughout because it feels like the reader is being nudged toward each image without given directly what it actually is. I might name this something like “Wet Caress”
Fabulous title.
My title: Rain’s Sweet Caress
Nice, DeAnna! I like your title. It focuses on the sweetness and gentleness of the rain you describe, and your repetition of the word caress focuses our attention on Salem’s annual several feet of those caresses. I like how you let so many good guesses come and then told us. That was a fun way to do it.
Denise,
I was waiting until both Cara and Rachelle told me they had a chance to read my poem before I shared the title. Although talking through my writing process with Cara earlier in the day, she knew my subject matter. 😉
I loved reading everyone’s title ideas. After I read “Raindrops,” I thought about changing it to “A Raindrop’s Sweet Caress” but in the end kept it as planned.
My brain went straight to Sunlight, but not sure it fits with the description “slowly rolls down my cheek.” I’m very intrigued. I’ll peruse the comments. LOL
Oregon rain often referred to as “liquid sunshine” 🙂
Stefani, thank you for this amazing prompt. I have thought of several ways to apply this idea in the classroom. One was to write about a fictional character without naming he or she, etc., and I’m trying to write one of these. Long story…anyway, I have a little bit of something I’m leaving untitled. Readers, feel free to share what you think the title is. (1 word)
A demon with a serpent’s tongue
Whispers evil, painful reminders;
Burns like ephemeral spirits
In misty green fog
Horrifying and gruesome;
Snuffs out the light
Barb Edler
15 April 2021
Barb,
I really like this poem. The first word that came to mind was snake, as I read further I thought fear came to mind. Having finished reading it twice now I wonder is it Jealousy?
Thanks for your response, DeAnna, but it’s not jealousy. I can see as I read through this where you got that idea.
Barb, I am getting a Voldemort feeling here but feel it is another who should not be named. I love the idea of character poems without titles…it would be gamifying poetry and ELA standards!
I don’t know the character, I know I am scared! It reminds me of The Exorcist; I’m trying to remember the misty green fog. Voldemort is a great guess, Stefani B! Absolutely love the description “ephemeral spirits.”
Well, I am very misleading. It is not a character….I was working on one of those but it did not get finished. I hope I can get it to a point where I can share it on another day, but it may not ever get finished as I’m really struggling with it.
Wow, this poem is short, but packs a punch! I love the misty green fog, and the snuffing out of the light. I love that you lead us into an image, and the imagination has so many hooks to picture this gruesome creature. Love it!
Regrets is the title…
Regrets is very effective, Barb.
When I read this line, I thought of all the lies we hear from ourselves about what we should have done or been:
Well done.
In the spirit of Stefani’s suggestions, I returned to a doc I began 12 days ago, which was named “Mind Blown” and contained those two words, some kind of note to myself. Why not start the poem with the title?
Mind Blown Symphony
We tend a garden of unrequited tears
A garden of greasy sprockets and gears
A garden of fruitless appointments
A bad idea catches in our throat
The persistent phlegm of years
We gag on the festering memory
Of one more needlessly bad idea
We grasp at the straws
Of unwarranted optimism
The straws of unreasonable ideals
Nevertheless protected by wolves
Mind blown, we step back
From the scene of an illusion
The spotlight of the unremarkable
When we give birth
To what we seem to have no room for
The midwife asks us to cut the extension cord
David, your poem is fascinating and thought-provoking. I do not have the courage to share my interpretation, but I think your poem is filled with some emotions I was trying to communicate today, but felt like I was failing with at every turn. I am completely taken in by the images and language of your poem; especially “protected by wolves”, “illusion” “spotlight of the unremarkable”, Your last stanza is incredible and “mind blowing”. Thank you for this wonderful read!
Wow!! Not at all were I thought this poem was going but I love the vivid imagery of
David,
I am glad you were able to revisit an old poem. I am disturbed and fascinated by your lines, “the persistent phlegm of years/We gag on the festering memory.” Wow, I could list so many interpretations and emotions this brings up. Thank you for sharing today.
I am going to wait and give you the title at the end of this poem — hopefully I used the spoiler function correctly. Let’s just say in crafting this I was trying to capture a particular mood. Also decided to follow along and compose my own nonette, with some added word/line play thrown in. Enjoy.
The wheel turns — rusted slow with creaking
cry of frustration: riveted
attention fixed on crafting.
If pushed to its limit
it will snap under
its own loaded —
Wait! You’re going
too hard–
break.
Erica, this was fun! I took my time deciding what your title must have been. I was far off and way wrong. I titled it “The Tired Potter” ?
I love your poem and the title definitely fits!
Erica, Your format works wonderfully here. I love the action of this “turning wheel”…I guess I would title it “Flat Tire.” Your poem sort of reminds me a Rube Goldberg project though. Very fun poem. Thanks!
YES!!! I have that problem often. Thank you for sharing your poem today.
Erica, what fun! I was thinking of rusty tractor wheels and all kinds of crazy while I read your poem. After reading the title, I enjoyed your poem on a whole new level! Thank you. Such a great topic and fun application of the prompt today.
And bonus, I saw your spoiler use before my editing time expired, so I was able to use it too. Thanks for that! (I love learning new things.)
Erica, thank you for using the spoiler feature, I didn’t know that wasn’t even an option here. It is perfect for this setting and I should’ve prompted others to use it! Your title adds humor to the poem. Thank you for sharing today.
Great poem. At first, I thought it had to do with writing. The end tricked me, but after reading it a few times, it all fell into place.
(Please Come Up With Your Own Title)
Yesterday I was contemplating endings:
The taste of my nearly spoiled clementines
And the memory of the eyes
That broke my heart.
And I was so far from home.
You were sobbing on the phone
While my pizza grew cold
And the kids came back
All hyper and hilarious after lunch.
I tried; I couldn’t be here.
I believe in happy endings
But I’m a realist about sequels.
You can’t just keep dragging
The corpse of great ‘80s films
Through the dust of the cynically depraved desert.
We’ll all be a mirage someday
And whoever sees us
Will have to accept it
Alex, I am completely in love with your poem, but I have no idea what it is really about. I feel like it is based on an 80’s film, but I could be way off. I love how your poem is chock-full of rich words and images that are captivating. I was completely pulled in by the last three lines of your first stanza:
Gorgeous!
What I also really like about your poem is how well it moved from one stanza to the next, and then ends with such a fascinating message: “And whoever sees us/Will have to accept it” Loved it! Hope you return with some commentary.
Alex, a title that comes to mind is “Sour endings.” I view your 80’s reference as a metaphor of this experience. Thank you for sharing and I look forward to your title.
Titles*
Hey You,
[I] Wish You Were Here
When the Levee Breaks
[for this] Fool in the Rain.
[I have] High Hopes
[you’ll] Light My Fire
[and] Gimme Shelter
In My Time of Dying;
[Though] Dazed and Confused
[and] Tangled Up in Blue,
Since I’ve Been Loving You,
The Song Remains the Same:
In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel.
_________________
*Possible alternate titles:
A Wistful Stroll down a Musical Lane to Our Song
Or
Tunes of My Youth: Mostly Zeppelin with a Dash of the Stones, Pink Floyd, Bob Dylan, Panic! At the Disco, the Doors, and Peter Gabriel
Or
Songs that Were on YouTube’s To-Be-Played-Next Scroll While I Tried to Write this Poem
I think my favorite alternate title is the last one listed — I never thought of crafting a poem based around the songs in that queue. I bet that could make for some interesting writing!
Scott, one activity I used to do with my creative writing students was to have them list a bunch of song lines and then write a found poem from them. Love how you work these titles together. Loved
Delightfully fun poem!
Such a fun idea and beautifully crafted! My favorite title is the last one listed as well – although I think having the asterisk and including all of the ideas adds to the poem! A poem about titles, made up of titles. Nice!
Scott, thank you sharing this complex ode to music. I like how you’ve played with the titles and the brackets. I like the last title, what about remixing it to be “How my Youtube Playlist Distracts [Enhances] my Poetry”:) Thank you for sharing today.
I love the last title
Alone
I bought a new house
near a canyon
and no one told me
that when the wind blows here
it blows enough to keep you awake at night
wondering if Mary Poppins might come
for a visit and if she does
what would she bring in her bag that
might turn your life around?
Or perhaps your house will lift up
and come down hard in another world
landing on top of the Wicked Witch of the East
and if so, will you be tried for murder or
could you take the shoes and run before
her sister finds out?
I love your allusions to Mary Poppins and Wizard of Oz! This reminds me of dreams I have that tie in real life and popular movies…it doesn’t make sense, but what can you do but go with it while your asleep?
Rachel, your poem is incredible. I love the way you set the scene at the opening. You’ve captured a sense of isolation and other “worldliness”. I feel like the speaker has been practically duped by their purchase of this home near the canyon. The ending question is my favorite part, I can just see Dorothy fleeing; plus I’m a huge fan of both movies. Sensational!
Rachel, I enjoy your pop culture references infused with your novice experience. Your title leaves me with questions and I enjoyed that element of your writing. Thank you for sharing.
Rachel – first of all, I love the allusions to the various flying ladies, but it also reminds me of how our imaginations can run away with us when we live alone!! Your opening lines really struck me – that feeling of moving into a new space and finding new discoveries, some pleasant, some not!
Hey, Home Girl! Good to see you here! Here’s my poetic attempt to reply to this challenge. What title would you give this ninette?
Skinnin’ and Grinnin’
Back then when the world was perfect,
We thought that we all could win,
If we could all just connect.
No! Don’t be my twin.
You do your thing and
I will do mine.
Let love sheathe.
Let’s just
Breathe!
See?
We met.
We are learning.
What do we get?
A society that is churning,
Coming to terms with the mystery.
A perfect life is not easily bought.
We find it’s much tougher than we thought.
Our vision is clearer when we view our history.
Anna, your ending message is so prevalent. “We thought we could all win” is potent and thought-provoking. Personally, I feel so much sadness by life’s outcomes. I know what it is like to think things will go a certain way, but then to realize how naive I was is not fun. Your poem has so many lines I love-especially “A perfect life is not easily bought.” Your title reminds me of an expression, “What’s the skinny?” Divining truth is a constant hurdle, but if we ignore the past, we will continue to make the same mistakes. Loved your poem! Thank you!
Hello Anna, you seamlessly blend in rhyme here to add an extra twist to this form. Since you asked, I think you could play off your first line and call your poem the “perfect world” or similar. The reality that reader hits by the end is far from perfect. Thank you for sharing today (and stay warm;)).
Good idea. I’ll consider it. Skinnin’ and grinnin’ is urban slag for going along to get along. A version of “you be like me, I’ll like you”.
Sarah J. posted in her FB post a response from a virtual presentation in which student participants challenged value of learning “standard English” if they were going to face discrimination for their skin color, something none of us can’t change. That inspired this poem.
Anna – this set of lines stands out to me:
“A perfect life is not easily bought.
We find it’s much tougher than we thought.
Our vision is clearer when we view our history.”
This reminds me of having tough conversations about history, about meaning, about how to bring us together, and it’s absolutely tougher than we thought.
Dr. Boutelier,
I love this prompt. I always think about titles as integral to a poem, novel, short story, essay, song, speech, etc. I have a “title” reputation among some NCTE friends and collaborators.
Friends,
As some figured out from my poem yesterday, I’m in Maui., so I’ll be back later w/ my poem and to comment. I commented very late last night on yesterday’s poems. ?
—Glenda
Dang, Glenda, I sure need to read closer. Feeling a bit jealous, but wishing you safe travels. Enjoy!
Maui!!!!! Glenda!!!! Have fun!
Ughhhh I am not liking anything I am writing today. (It’s night here so don’t think I gave up at 9AM ha!) And I am completely MOVED by Bertoni’s poem and especially the title. After reading this, nothing I’m writing feels good enough. *cries*. I did think it was about a romantic partnership mainly because it reminded me of this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTxSYWOIgI0. But after reading the title, yeah, so much more meaningful. Thank you for sharing his poem, Stefani. I really love the title of your poem and the nonette as well. So yogi-ish 🙂
Hi Stefani, thanks for your contribution today. I never seriously considered the importance of a title. Here is something I wrote about a year ago but until now, I have left untitled.
(un)happy hour
Your sincerity was lost
At the bottom of a glass
The words that ease
Can only last
Until the moment its gone
Left with that taste on my lip
Optimism washed away
With my last sip
Now the sounds ring
And the light’s in my eye
Twelve hours ahead
Then I’ll forget why
I will choose what it is
I want to know
Here I am with no thoughts
Zero hours to go.
E-
A perfect response to Stefani’s challenge. Your title takes the cliche or meme of “happy hour” and flips it, turns it inside out, questions the entire assumption of the name, which is what the poem does, of course, ending with the brutal couplet. Lowercasing the title adds another level of irony, diminishing the time of day.
//david
Eric, I am glad you were able to revisit an old poem and bring it back to life to share here today. Your second stanza strikes me the most with bitterness. Thank you for sharing.
E – man, it can be at those times when we’re supposed to feel most happy that can really be a sucker punch. You’ve captured that kind of lonely feeling in this poem, and it resonated with me.
Dilated
a perfect circle opens wide
its expanding space the color of onyx
maybe I should follow the pitch
maybe I should welcome the pull
from life’s lashes and blurry edges.
maybe I should have learned
to sleep without a night light.
maybe I should have taught
the dreams in me to rest.
the perfect circle overcomes the last sliver
of hazel. i lean into the aperture,
falling into lashed shades.
Sarah,
Thank you for inviting me to host today. Your title is fantastic and you capture the image of this experience (pun intended) perfectly with your words that follow. I love your line” the perfect circle overcomes the last sliver of hazel”–thank you for sharing today.
Sarah, I’m reading so much here, photos, births, awakenings, yearnings). The nuances allow for interpretation – circles opening wide, welcoming. “Maybe I should have learned to sleep without a night light” – nods to taking risks.
I am so taken by all the possibilities here – birth, photography, sleep, curtains. Fascinating to reread this one several times with a different lens of subject each time! That takes artistic brilliance as a writer to give readers a way to see something new from so many angles! Love this, Sarah!
Nicely done, Sarah. The seemingly simple title points us toward the focus of this little meditation. (When we hear “dilated,” we think of eyes.) It also implies a sense of an opening up or expanding. And it suggests that the speaker/poet and the poem are in the dark, trying to let in whatever light is available. In all those ways, a single word places the reader at the edge of an array of stepping-off points.
//david
Sarah,
Your poem is so rich and wonderful and detailed yet filled with delicious ambiguity. Lots for a reader to ponder.
Sarah, the plays on words “pitch”, “black” and “onyx” give your poem so many layers. Then you do the same with “circle “and “eyeballs”. Cleveer, clever, clever. And then you add “night light!” How did you do it?
Sarah – the eye words and imagery are so beautifully put together here. I like the idea of the dilated eye as a rest from life’s lashes and blurry edges. I like how you expanded the meaning to the wondering about what should have been. Thanks for a beautiful poem!
Sarah, such amazing imagery- I am awed and unnerved by the dilating pupil of the eye taking over the entire iris… it’s so clear in my brain…yet what a sense of comfort in those last lines, as in succumbing to sleep. Gloriously written!
Stefani, the clever approach to this prompt really moved thought and language through my mind in a back and forth way. Claudio Bertoni’s poem fascinates. The process of reading without a title and then returning with that knowledge is eye-opening. Your title “Press Eject” adds layered meaning, reminds us to oust technology and return to the simplicity of self awareness. I love this gentle nudge of breath.
I took approach #1 with title to follow.
Hand holders
loving like spring
Secret sharers
whispering coastal winds
Touch igniters
searing nightly sparks
Siren songs
luring deep
Truth tellers
promising forevers
(title: We Were Once)
Jennifer,
You poem is filled with light alliteration, music of love flowing through every line with possibility and ease. The title shifts the tone to an elegy, maybe an elegiac ode to what was. Can it be again or is it time to find new siren songs? The “once” in the title seems to offer space for either.
Hugs,
Sarah
Jennifer, You poem at the end leaves me wanting more information, I think you could permanently keep it at the end. My favorite line is “touch igniters”–this brings out the sensuality of this poem and reasons for “promising forevers.” Thank you for sharing today.
Jennifer, all the memories and good feels of first love come rushing back here with the sparks and secrets – we see the title with were and understand that the touch igniters’ flame died down. Your winds and sirens show change so vividly. Lovely! That title says so much in 3 words.
Jennifer – There’s such a wistfulness to this poem, I particularly like “whispering coastal winds”- very romantic and lovely. Thanks for sharing!
Wow, Jennifer – this is beautiful and then with the title, so haunting! Lovely, lovely coastal imagery … the sirens, a bit of foreshadowing…
Good morning! Thank you for the lovely prompt. The mentor poem is gorgeous and unexpected, and your response poem had beautifully chosen words and pace. I love the message of breathing out stress and ejecting it – feels like a meditation. You got me thinking in a new way about titles, and what they can do to add a twist – our book club last night interviewed Mary Kubica, a thriller writer who educated us about writing twists!
I must admit, I was feeling a little salty this morning, and something about the outer message of our clothing as a title to what we’re really feeling inside struck me, and I thought of this news item from a few years ago.
I REALLY DON’T CARE, DO U?*
There are 500 children
Grasping for their parents through cages
Dreaming of a future
In our beautiful country
Like I once did
As a young woman.
We must show our care!
There are millions of children
Scrolling through their screens
Afraid of the words
That stab them.
I should know.
I live with one myself
And it cuts to the soft core,
rotting us out.
We must be best.
All these people care about our
Outsides
The clothes we wear,
Tearing apart my humble
Christmas decorations
Of red painted sticks and
Festive blue-white LEDs.
Who really gives a f$%#
about all of that?
There are real problems here.
Well.
Our work is done.
Head down.
Shades up.
Step out of the sun
– for now –
And see how we’ve
Changed the world.
*In June, 2018, Former First Lady Melania Trump wore a $39 jacket with the title painted on the back to visit migrant children being held at a detention center. Though her team denied any hidden message, in an interview later, she said it was “a kind of message.”
Emily, this reminds me of the emotions I felt when this story was live. The title here brings confusion and anger to the reader, great idea. Thank you for sharing today.
Gosh. Yes and yes. This story made me so angry at the time. You’ve beautifully crafted this poem – thank you for sharing.
Here’s to feeling salty, Emily. I love poems that cop an attitude, push it right up in our faces, and then maybe challenge or question it. The exact opposite of wearing something in public that “says something,” and then denying that it does (well, her handlers did so), and then coyly saying it was “a kind of message.”
//david
Emily, and we, here, also care! Thanks for opening the “veins” in your experiences and reminding us that sticking their hands though the fences leave wounds that may never heal though the scars be sealed.
Whoops – I was a bit sleepy when I posted – meant to put the title at the end! Ha!
Emily,
I remember being so very angry when I read about that trip and her outfit of choice. Allowing her “handlers” to deny there was no hidden meaning to the jacket’s message and then later stating it was “a kind of message” just show how there are those who truly don’t care. Breaks my heart.
Thank you for sharing you wonderfully written and thought provoking poem today.
Emily – what I am thinking as I read is that while we know actions speak louder than words, in this case actions and words are equally unfathomable. Most of all you illustrate how poetry can be a clarion call for caring!
Emily, the opening lines of your poem reach out – your choice of grasping emphasis their distress. I see that you meant to put the title at the bottom but as it is, it sits on top like the haughtiness that the jacket bearer wore it with. Thank you for giving this voice.
Stefani, I am enjoying the way you focus on the title today. I’m gaining new teeth in my comb after yesterday’s recursive drafting and today’s spotlight on title. Often, I find myself spending the least amount of time on a title, so I’m grateful for your dedication to this feature today. Your nonette is an inviting form – and inhaling only the positive and exhaling the stressors is exactly what I need for today!
I looked at your #5 idea with the double entendre and returned to a spring break moment, thinking back on how indulgences outside the daily routine take us places.
Crystal Blue Icelandic Kool Aid
In the last-minute
merchandise
checkout maze,
I caved in and
bought an over-sized
funky-shaped
ice blue bottle
of spring water
fresh-squeezed
from a glacier in
Iceland.
My thirsty husband
eyed it skeptically,
driving along
to the strains of
Tommy James’
Crystal Blue Persuasion.
“Just look to your soul
and open your mind …ooh, ooh”
You want a sip?
I asked him
This is not your average water.
It’s Icelandic –
straight from the glacial springs
of a whole other
continent!
The bottle was
a rectangular prism
taller than
the bank teller’s
drive-thru
whoosh capsule,
forcing him
to lean sideways
as he raised it
to his mouth.
I watched as he
took a swig,
licked his lips
to get the full effect,
then
awaited his reaction.
Tastes just like Kool-Aid to me
he decided
(clearly amused),
winking at me
with the twinkling eyes
of the real Santa Claus.
Kim,
I so enjoyed this snapshot, this glimpse into the spring break moment with the contrast of Iceland and Santa Claus alongside refreshment and Kool-Aid. The italicized dialogue is fun, making me smile in the clever conversation.
Peace,
Sarah
Kim, I love your play with words in your title and poem here. I couldn’t get enough Icelandic water when I had the privilege to travel there a few years ago–this brought me back. I love the conversational narrative and the humor that you have infused into your poem. Thank you for sharing.
Kim, a friend shared Voss water with us and I swear there’s a difference. You completely place us into this scene, from bottle shape to what we hear. This bit of a glimpse of your husband and his humor is lovely.
Kim, such a fun, light-hearted poem, with its cool fresh blue symbolism, all the way to the (clearly teasing) twinkling eyes of your (clearly loving) husband! – and now I want to try that water :O
Kim, so fun! Thanks for this adorable poem!
Stefani – this is an amazing prompt. Bertoni’s poem of love seems so light, and then, with that title, it is at once so haunting and deep. Utterly transformed by that layer of meaning. Clifton’s, so magnificently wrapped with metaphor… what stands out to me is the climbing toward 60. What a daunting throwing down of the gauntlet-!!
Today I attempt to capture my thoughts during an experience a few years back… I will share the title and dedication following:
The stories
of time before my time
I lived them
through your telling
felt them through
your pounding heart
breathed them
with your young lungs
until I wanted to run
coughing from
the reek of smoke
the acrid taste of ash
and I think of
how you spent your years
giving yourself
to others
despite the ghosts
that surely clung
as smoke clings to clothing
and as I enter the doorway
I can hardly breathe
for the cloying scent of flowers
and there you are on the table
ready and waiting
in your little box
conveniently resting
in a little white tote
I dare not use the handles
I just wrap my arms around you
and carry you against my heart
like I did my babies
only there’s no car seat needed now
still, I must keep you safe
in your new lightness
so I strap the seatbelt across us both
pondering the measure of a man
larger than life
so reduced
but I’ve got you, I’ve got you
cradled close
see now, I’m driving you home
sun and shadows flickering
over us like old newsreels
of liberation
Title: What Remains
Dedicated to my beloved father-in-law, a World War II veteran
Fran, just last month we buried my father in law in a military funeral. He was also cremated. The details in your poem are striking and feel like they are mine. I’m sorry for your loss. I’m so grateful to the men and women tht chose to serve.
The imagery of smoke and ashes (of bombs and cremation) are so strong. And your love as you listen to his stories and hold him close (like I did my babies). This poem breaks my heart. Tears.
Fran,
Such a privilege it is to witness your life and your beloved father-in-law in this tender poem. This image struck me at first:
It signaled to me a past that I cannot imagine or know yet so many individuals carry. The meaning was revealed in your dedication, which further illuminated the life of this man.
Thank you,
Sarah
Fran, thank you for sharing this beautiful and heartbreaking experience with us here today. My favorite image is the one of you holding him near your heart with the seat belt wrapped around you two.
Fran, this is a brilliant poem. I need to let it resonate as I feel my response won’t do it justice. So much to love here! I’m so sorry for this loss for all of you as well.
Wow – what a tender and gentle tribute. I’m sorry for your family’s loss <3
Fran, the image of life and now the box containing memories is heartfelt. The service to country, and the love of family – and now the memories live on! How beautiful!
Oh, Fran, this is lovely. This image:
is simply brilliant.
Oh this is just so beautiful. The shadows flickering like liberation. Thanks for sharing this tribute.
Good Morning, Early Writers. Dr. Boutelier what a provocative prompt. Thank you. I so enjoyed the Bertoni poem and then your take on the prompt…the idea of purposeful breathing could be so many things, practices, situations. But the title makes me think of a fighter plane. The extreme moment of decision.
I’ve been busy with life these past couple of days so I’m getting back into a writing swing with a draft. I would love for someone to title this draft.
These lines don’t know
their name
they’ve been sitting
in the waiting room
so long–pacing a track
of worn carpet to the window
past magazines to the desk
They would check to see if they signed in —
If there was any memory of who, when?
man, woman, salesperson
client?
The others waiting
in the plastic chairs
heads down, nodding to music
scrolling on phones
looking for something
looking for
looking.
So intriguing, Linda! The first image in my mind is that of a hospital waiting room as a baby is being born – but I am still working with that man, woman, salesperson, client line; takes on a business-y element. Or an asylum-?! Feels to me like it should be tied it to a poem coming into being. I must think more but right now all I’ve got is Poem-To-Be: Please Take a Number…
Linda, this poem hit me with emotion. The waiting in plastic chairs so institutional and lacking in emotion that it is full of emotion. Pacing, waiting give me a sense of impatient patience, waiting for bad news? I’m torn between a title that gives this poem meaning or one that keeps the ambiguity that is intriguing.
Thanks for giving these lines a home today. Titles?
Waiting Room
Vacancy
Next in Line
Linda, thank you for inviting us to title this. I enjoy how you’ve written your last three lines, maybe something is found? A few title suggestions:
Poetic Appointment
Sterile Wait
Linda, Fran’s title suggestion is spot on! The idea of lines in a waiting room draws forth words awaiting birth but I can also see this as loss, as in memory, and then I want to play with titles from dementia (like Demons or Sarah’s suggestion of Vacancy)..
So much intrigue to this poem, Linda. I can’t wait to find out what it’s about. The title I am thinking of is:
Next?