This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. We gather every month and daily in April — no sign-ups, no fees, no commitments. Come and go as you please. All that we ask is that if you write, you respond to others to mirror to them your readerly experiences — beautiful lines, phrases that resonate, ideas stirred. Enjoy. (Learn more here.)
Our Host
Denise Krebs taught elementary grades, junior high, and college undergrads before retiring in 2021. She lives with her husband near Joshua Tree National Park and loves to spend time in the desert hiking and biking. She spends some of her time volunteering at the Friends of the Library, taking paralegal classes, and working on pro-democracy issues. She enjoys traveling to Minneapolis and Seattle to visit her grandchildren and their parents. She participates in The Stafford Challenge and blogs regularly at Dare to Care,
Inspiration
I discovered this sweet little prompt sometime in August, when I was reading a lot of poetry. (Have you heard of the challenge to read a book of poems a day in August?) I didn’t read a book a day, but I did have a pile of books on my end table. The seventh one this day happened to be 44 Poems on Being With Each Other by Pádraig Ó Tuama. I turned to page 7, which was in the introduction. Line 7 was finishing the first paragraph: “(be) poetry to each other.”
I invite you today to find a seventh book anywhere and join me in a fun discovery.
Process
- Find the 7th book on a shelf or pile wherever you are, in a library, a bookshop, at home or school (any genre).
- Turn to page 7.
- Read the seventh line.
- Let that line inspire a 7-line poem. The line can become part of your poem, or just a muse.
Nikki Young at Storymakers Club shared this prompt.
Denise’s Poem
you and I let’s reach
for the stars
let’s reach for the resilience
of the hope of this life
let’s make the world better
we are love and we’ll create
let’s be poetry to each other
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to 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. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
From a shelf with a series of literature anthologies, the seventh line of the seventh page of the seventh book led me to Lord Byron’s “To Ianthe.” I have included that line as the concluding line in a poem I wrote about my partner in life <3
Destined by fate to live as star-crossed lovers, we defiantly
cast our own constellation into the void, where now
seven splendid suns shine in celestial celebration of two
souls who have found each other through time and space—
Our stardust colliding, coalescing into indescribable frequencies
of love as light that endures and beacons home, brilliantly,
“before whose heavenly hues all sorrow disappears.”
Amber, this was lovely!
Oh, Amber,you have channeled your inner Byron, to be sure. You and your partner are blessed. The alliteration tbroughout is so beautiful; my favorite is what you did with line 3.
From Stephen King’s On Writing: “I believe large numbers of people have [at least some talent as writers and storytellers.]
We encounter the blank pages
snowy white and pristine,
unmarred by thoughts, scratches, and pedantic prose.
We carve small wounds into the tundra,
leaving shadows and chasms in the wake of drifts.
Immortalizing musings across the page
for an unseen eye.
Oh, Stephanie, I do love the back and forth here between the snowy landscape and the page of writing. That image “We carve small wounds into the tundra” as part of the writing process is so powerful. I’m taking it with me today. This “unseen eye” feels honored to have read your musings here this morning.
Stephanie, loved this imagery! ❤️❤️
Denise, I love your picture at No Kings!
I accidentally skipped over the 7-line poem direction, sorry! But I liked the result, anyway.
From Mary Shelley’s The Last Man:
“If my daring and courage obtained for me a kind of respectful aversion, her youth and sex, since they did not excite tenderness, by proving her to be weak, were the causes of numberless mortifications to her; and her own disposition was not so constituted as to diminish the evil effects of her lowly station.”
So
far have
we come from
the labels of youth
and sex: words like “weak,”
“mortified,” “diminished” and “lowly” were – though
not in my mind, per se — constantly
ingrained in my identity and baked into perceptions
of me by men around me: boyfriends, co-workers, family.
And now, look at these two strong, smart women:
My daughters, who balk at labels, seeing them
for what they are: ways to diminish,
to mortify. Not if they were
the Last Women on earth
would they accept them.
My heroes: both.
The First
Women.
This is a beautiful dedication to your daughters and the strength they hold. I love the structural arc of this.
Oh, Wendy! Hooray. Your backclap to Mary Shelley’s line is fabulous. You’ve said–in so many wonderful lines–what I have thought regularly about my two daughters. Yes! “My heroes: both. The First Women.” Beautiful tribute to your daughters. I hope they will get to read it.
“in the barn began to crow”
Keep dreaming, but wake up,
time to begin again
New opportunities await for
Those who believe it can be done.
Find your groove
Change your part of the world
Cayetana,
It’s fitting that our poems stand side by side since we both have featured roosters today. I’m all for turning those night dreams into daydreams.
Cayetana, I like thinking of myself as being the crow, finding my groove, being awoke, beginning again. Just my part of the world. Lovely poem and inspiring line.
Cayetana, every line in this poem is inspirational. We need this motivation daily. Thanks for creating this poem.
Cayetana,
Love how this line inspired these sentiments. This felt so imperative and immediate that it was inspiring.
Hi Denise!
I love this prompt and your poem for all the reasons others have mentioned. I’m here late because I needed to read verse novels today and knock on doors this evening and finish postcard poetry. As you know, I don’t like to post until I have time to comment, so I’m here now. My inspiration is from Billy Collins’s Dog Show collection. It’s the seventh line on page seven. I chose the seventh book from my bedside stack of poetry books. My morning out w/ the dogs provided the rest.
Autumn Seven
With pencil and paper I mark Autumn morning:
citrus-hued sunflowers drooping over a white fence,
the neighbor’s rooster cock-a-hooping his pleasures,
jade-green grass glistening beneath jeweled dewdrops,
our rescue pups barking and frolicking across the field,
nature’s blue sky follow-spot focused on her Edenic scene.
I love noting a brisk new day with pencil and paper.
Glenda Funk
*”With pencil and paper….”
Glenda, I’m loving the full-circle feel of this–Billy Collins’ book of dog poems, your pups out in Eden, the inspiration to take pen and paper. It’s all so lovely. I’m glad you made time to be here on this busy day. Your sentences describing what you saw on your walk are breathtaking. I feel I am there with you, the words have become pictures for your reader.
Glenda, stunning poem! I love the striking imagery and focus on color. The cock-a-hooping has me laughing out loud. Love the vitality and energy throughout your poem. So much fun!
Glenda, you have painted a picture with this poem. I can only learn from your descriptive lines and see the image of the environment, you have experienced.
Glenda, your chosen line is what my students and I do every time in class, but your nature observations come alive with your utensils and walk with the dogs. The image of citrus-hued sunflowers over a white fence brings me joy and comfort, as you know. Love the begining and ending “with pencil and paper.”
Glenda, my favorite lines:
“the neighbor’s rooster cock-a-hooping his pleasures”
“our rescue pups barking and frolicking across the field, “
Loved this picture of fall!
Denise — Sorry, I’m getting here a little late tonight. Thank you for your prompt today and your poem. Those last two lines “we are love and we’ll create/let’s be poetry to each other” are inspiration for us all!
The 7th book on our bookshelf was a book of short stories by H.P. Lovecraft which I haven’t read but now have added to my TBR.
The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories — H. P. Lovecraft
7th line
“…because of the dark cloud which has come over my mind—”
because of the dark,
a tear will prick at the corners of your eyes,
even as the sun pushes at your back.
a cloud which—
even ensconced in a hug,
your body will fold and frown.
over your mind,
even in laughter and light,
you unspool in the quiet.
I reach for you …
Wow, Tammi, this is a lesson in using words poetically. So many lovely phrases “you unspool in the quiet” and “even ensconced in a hug” Beautiful. I like what you did with the line you found.
Tammi,
Lots of gorgeous images in your poem. I’m focused on the specific verbs: prick, pushes, fold, frown, unspool. Lovely poem. I’m advice father inspiration book to my TBR.
Ooooh, Tammi, your poem is wonderful and full of dichotomies! Love the end and that unspooling in quiet. Provocative piece!
Tammi, I had to read this poem more than once.There is so much meaning here. Many emotions at play.
Tammi,
This was so lovely and haunting. Loved the ellipsis at the end, which enhanced that tone. The second person pov was perfect. Loved, too, the em- dash that leaves the thought seeming unfinished. Your poem was interestingly Lovecraft-ian in its style and sentiments.
Denise, this was fun. I used Harry Baker’s book Tender and went to page 7 to find “Panic.” The line I used was, “So I finally had a purpose.”
Dejah
By Mo Daley 10/19/26
I remember her so clearly
the chip on her shoulder was more like a boulder
she quickly found my buttons and the easiest ways to push them
she could beat up anyone in the school
she was desperate to know what happened to Ivan, Ruby, and Bob
but she couldn’t read
so I finally had a purpose
Mo, this is an intriguing poem. I want to know how this purpose was carried out. How did Ivan, Ruby and Bob interact with her?
I am sure you “remember her so clearly.”
Mo,
Dejah will always remember you just as you will remember her. These are the students who make lasting impacts.
🩷
Mo — Oh, Boy! Dejah sounds like she definitely needed someone to knock her down a few notches. I would love a second part to this story!
Oh, yes! Dejah remembers who taught her to read. I can see how Katherine Applegate can inspire a reluctant reader to join the fun. Beautiful!
Mo,
WOW! I hope you were able to fulfill your purpose w/ this young girl. It breaks my heart to know there are kids who can’t read. That image of a bolder on her shoulder is poignant and purposeful.
Mo, your poem speaks volumes. I know this student well and can appreciate the purpose! What a great closing line! Brilliant!
Mo, it was funny — I read this the first time from the perspective of a child talking about another child, for some reason, but then reread it from the teacher’s perspective — not sure what prompted me to do that. But what a vivid character sketch you paint!
Denise, I used the seventh poem from the Random House Book of Poetry for Children (selected by Jack Prelutzky and illustrated by Arnold Lobel). It wasn’t until after I selected the seventh line from the poem “The Flint,” by Christina Rossetti, that I realized I miscounted and “The Flint” was actually the 8th poem. By then, I’d been researching the opal and was too invested to turn back. LOL. Thank you for hosting! I enjoyed this challenge, and I was blown away by your example. Wouldn’t this world be so much brighter if we all could “be poetry to each other?” The line I chose was “An opal holds a fiery spark.”
October’s Birthstone
An opal holds a fiery spark,
a birthstone for a queen.
Its iridescent milkiness
reflects autumnal sheen.
October’s gem resplendent,
a dreamer’s stone, some claim.
A dreamer’s heart, an opal…both hold flame.
I love this, Lori. A dreamers stone…a dreamer’s heart…perfect for & from a poet!
This is lovely, Lori. A dreamer’s stone is wonderful. I love that you miscounted, too 😀
Lori — So glad you miscounted because this poem is beautifu! Love your word choices — “Iridescent milkiness”
Ha, I like that you chose the 8th poem. Lovely October opal ode. Beautiful poem, Lori, and it brings an opal’s beauty to mind through your words.
Lori,
I really like the rhyme in your poem and its opal facts. I can see this as a good way to teach geology!
Lori, I loved the rhyme in this! The rhyme, itself, reminds me of some of the rhymes I remember from my children’s books of poetry, which my mom provided me many of. Your word choice is beautiful. I’m a big fan of opals, though not an October baby (do you know that superstition holds that they’re supposed to be unlucky to wear if they’re not your birthstone?? Oh well.)
Denise, what a clever way to end our writing this month! Interesting, too, that the words on line seven of page seven were the title of a poem about Spring that I wrote here in OpenWrite and published recently in EXPERIENCE POEMS AND PICTURES (2026). I think I’ll post the AI-generated graphic on my social media! Thanks for the prompt.
Changing Seasons
“Lilacs, the wait of spring”
What now?
It’s almost Fall! Do I have to wait?
Can’t I enjoy what’s now?
The colorful leaves are beautiful
And no hint of snow, just yet.
“Okay. But you’ll be back, I bet!”
That was a sweet coincidence. Congratulations on your recent book. I just downloaded the Kindle version. I love the conversation here in your poem. The four seasons are so desirable to me because they come and go so quickly, there is never enough time to get tired of one.
Anna, thank you for this gentle reminder to enjoy the beauty that surrounds us in the moment.
Lori, I love it when readers comment on a “message” they receive from my writing that had not even come to my mind! I’ll take your message and enjoy the weather now!
Beautiful!
Anna — I love the gentle reminder to enjoy the beauty of the season. Falls is beautiful! Love the playful nature of your poem,too!
Denise, I found your poem to be full of hope as the world spins dangerously out of control These lines, we are love and we’ll create, let’s be poetry to each other, are keepers and reminders that societies have struggled before and found ways to move forward. Thank you.
I spent yesterday going through my antique school book collection (it’s a strange hobby I know” and so I went there for inspiration. I took one of the Brooks Basal Readers from the American Book Company (1905) as it was the 7th book in the pile! I took the 7th and 8th lines from the poem, To My Dog Blanco by J.G Holland: I look into you great brown eyes Where love and loyal homage shine. Sorry Denise, I am breaking the rules but that 8th line called to me.
I chose to write about a very sad day, long ago, when I backed my car into our aging collie who had fallen and could not get up.. It still brings me to tears.
I didn’t know you had fallen
Behind my car, into the snowbank,
Where your blond hair merged with the sunrise
Until my wheels felt your aging mass
I looked tearfully into you great brown eyes
Where love and loyal homage still glimmered
Oh, Anita. Your poem resonates with me. I love the line “Where your blond hair merged with the sunrise” and “Where love and loyal homage still glimmered”. What a heart-wrenching poem. Gorgeous diction throughout to share this sad event.
Oh Anita, this is so heartbreaking, and I am sorry. I appreciate how you’ve pulled in part of the eighth line into your own 6th line. Thank you for sharing this today.
Oh, Anita, I’m so sorry you have to have this sad memory, but I’m glad you could write about it today. It’s so nicely written as a direct address. You make me love your loyal collie. What was your sweet dog’s name? “Until my wheels felt your aging mass” is such a powerful image.
Anita, the truth, beauty, and sorrow in this poem broke my heart. Our beloved Schnauzer recently died in my arms. Pets bring so much into our lives. Thank you for sharing.
Oh, what a heartbreaking experience for both of you. I’m so sorry. I do believe your precious collie loved you no matter what. Sending warm thoughts, Anita.
What beautiful, haunting language you use to capture this sad moment.
Anita — Your poem is beautiful and heartbreaking. I feel the pain of loss and your love for your collie. I am so sorry.
Anita,
This breaks my dog-loving heart. I feel the pain in every line. I’m so sorry this happened to you and your fur-baby. Sending hugs and grace.
Give me hope to see a future
where I am not a moocher
free from everyday worry
not in such a hurry
but carrying humility
while avoiding senility
lifted by joy
This was a great prompt! Thanks, Denise.
Suejean, Yes, I second your request! I too want to be free from worry, mooching, and senility while happily accepting life! Great word choice!
I like your lines of future and joy that sandwich hope in the middle. Thank you for sharing.
Susan, what a joyful rhyming poem. I love how each of the three rhyming couplets have one good thing you are hoping for and one to avoid–and all “lifted by joy” Wow. So lovely!
Susan! You are not a “moocher” in any way. You are the epitome of a giver, in your daily life, in your teaching, in your artwork, writing, and painting! So there! And your poems here show that multiplicity. You may be aging, but you still lift our hearts with joy when we read your writing and view your paintings. In fact, in our book discussion group tomorrow, we’ll be talking about one of the poems you shared for our anthology, TEMPTATIONS OF CHRISTIANS! So there! Oh, and thank you!
Thank you back, Anna, for my inclusion in your creations.
Outstanding! I want the same! Well done.
Sue,
“free from everyday worry/not in such a hurry” — I can relate and would like this too!
Thank you, Denise, for hosting, for this fun invitation and for your gentle poem.
What a beautiful sentiment for our community. I’ll carry this with me. Thank you.
—————————————————-
I am the wren
I am the wren
often overlooked
light of body
large of song
calling in the canyons
notes falling
just out of sight
——————————————————
poem and process posted at pedaling poet
Sharon, this is soothing to even the non-bird lover here. It has a soft welcoming feeling.
I like that trio of descriptors, light of, large of, calling in.
Sharon, this poem goes from descriptive to action with calling in the canyon, It really brings your bird to life.
Sharon, I enjoy the juxtaposition of light/large–the prominent wren! Thank you for sharing.
Oh, Sharon, how lovely, “light of body / large of sound” makes me so happy. I would want to find one of these canyon wrens too. Enjoy your trip!
Sharon, so many of my students over the years have reminded me of your wren – overlooked but with such beautiful stories to share. May we all pause to listen! Thank you for this poem.
Sharon, I love the line “large of song.” Very cool! Thank you for that!
Sharon, I live all of your Hurd poems. My favorite line today is, “large of sing.” That’s a perfect description for a wren.
What a connection! Yesterday I met Wrenly, a 3-year-old flitting about helping her grandma pick up butter dishes from a pancake breakfast. Interestingly she was humming a tuneless tune, but we were all so happy watching her twirl.
after a restless night
of painful leg cramps
(it’s a whole thing, don’t ask)
my groggy eyes lit upon
the book on my night stand –
The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka –
and I realize some nights are worse than others
____________________________________________
Thank you for your mentor poem and prompt today, Denise! I so love the lines, “we are love and we’ll create / let’s be poetry to each other.” YES! For my offering, I grabbed the seventh book on my shelf next to me – Kafka’s The Metamorphosis (translated by Stanley Corngold)– but I only made it to the first line, lol: “When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin.”
Ohhh, Scott, sorry about the leg cramps but what a wonderful way to use The Metamorphosis.
Oh, love how this works as a flash narrative toward discovery — some nights are worse than others. True.
Haha, this is so great, Scott. I’m sorry for the leg cramps, but there is a lot of truth in this. It is very much better to not wake up as a monstrous vermin.
Believe it or not, I wrote a poem last week where Franz Kafka and Gregor’s metamorphosis was included, too.
I love that, Denise! I am of the firm belief that Kafka and Gregor should, indeed, populate more poetry, maybe not as the focal points, but, simply, just to hang out in the periphery, observing from “the edges” of the poems.
Very funny, Scott. Way to put things in perspective.
Ooohhhhh! Thank you, Denise, for this sweet, sweet interruption to my day and life. I forget how much easier it is to breathe after taking part in these opportunities. It’s writing prompts like this that help me feel like I can do hard things — nourished.
So….I’m no longer teaching ELA. [insert gasps]
I’m now Assistant Principal of Student Culture (the disciplinarian).
Every time I have a student in my office, I ask them what they’re reading and if they need a book. And usually if they say they aren’t reading anything and they don’t need a book. I tell them they need a book and to take one. I keep a stack of books handy and let them pick one to take along with them. The number of books I have handed out to students is incredible (and the number of bookmarks). I might even be lending/giving out books more than when I was a teacher. And I am here for it!!!!
So, from this stack of books I like to have readily available for when I talk with students, I pulled the seventh one from the top of the pile: The Witches by Roald Dahl
7th page, 7th line: “Never forget what is coming next.”
if you look
through the
peep hole
of your
pitiful obligations,
you’ll find something golden
rather than the sludges of oughts
Oh, Amber, brava for all of this–for being here, breathing, doing hard things, nourishing us; for being an assistant principal with books to give; for never forgetting what is coming next; and for the great challenge in your poem. The poem–I just keep reading it over and over–wishing it was one I could have written. Finding something golden in the obligations instead of “the sludges of oughts” WOW!
Amber,
I love that you are an AP who passes out books. Strong work!
Thank you for your hopeful, perspective shifting poem. What a fantastic phrase:
Great advice!
That phrase, pitiful obligations. Whew. And sludges of oughts. Whew again. I need that.
This is very uplifting. There is always something to look forward to and golden if we can see through the peep hole.
Amber, “the sludges of oughts” is such a great line! Thanks for crafting and sharing your poem today. (And I love that you’re still “fighting the good fight” as an AP by continuing to put books into the hands of your students!)
This is fantastic! I want to turn it into a poster and hang it in my bathroom to motivate me in the mornings.
Yes!!!!! Completely! I need one now, too!
Denise, what a fun prompt. I’m going to have to remember this one when I’m stuck in a writing rut! I absolutely love your poem and especially “let’s be poetry to each other.” We need this today more than ever. I found Ted Hughes volume Wolf Watching which inspired this weirdness.
The Day I Disappeared
Something humped stirred in the half-light,
a mushroomy moldering thing.
Exhausted and hangry, I inhaled it
then wandered the rainy ridge where goblins
peeked from tipped boulders the color of seed-corn.
The clever gnomes invited me into their smoky dens
and offered me delectables I couldn’t resist.
Barb Edler
19 October 2027
What a great October poem! love it! your mushroomy, moldering thing….your wondering to the rainy ridge…you are so much braver than I am!
Barb, your title is intriguing and alluring me into a little mystery. Then, I am facing some “mushroomy moldering thing.” Finally, these “clever gnomes” invite me along with the speaker to “their smoky dens” to try some delectables. This poem sounds delightful and adventurous, and I need some of this today.
Oh, happy Halloween! Thanks for this weirdness, Barb. Love it! “mushroomy moldering thing” made me cringe a little, and doubly so with “I inhaled it” Love the sounds in “wandered the rainy ridge”
Barb,
I love the sense of adventure and strangeness.
Your first two lines set such an intriguing tone:
Barb, your poem is filled with creepy scary references to a mushroomy moldering place filled with clever gnomes. It comes to life and pulls me into your world. Well done.
Barb, what a perfect poem for October! I do love the mystery and the goblin vibes. And gnomes with smoky dens surely have some kind of trouble up their sleeves!
Barb, I love the sound (and feel) of the line “Something humped stirred,” and your use of “delectables” at the end is simply delicious! Fun and spooky poem!
Barb,
I’m here for this delicious weirdness. You have done TH proud, and this is so seasonally appropriate. Several phrases capture the goblin spirit: “humped stirred,” “mushroom moldering thing” (delicious alliteration), “hangry, I inhaled” (love the consonance), “rainy ridge” (more superb alliteration). The entire poem is a delectable I cannot resist.”
What a great way to generate ideas, Denise. Love it.
We are on a road trip and I am reading Partita by Barbara Kingsolver, so I had to improvise a little. I counted in seven chapters since it’s the only book I have access to.
Sarabande
That sweet spot between tension and relaxation
is where danger lives.
Taut friction is uncomfortable but exciting,
oddly inviting with its danger.
Slack calm is perceived as restful, even boring,
safe and secure lacks appeal, thrill.
Strive for vigilant contentment
~Susan Ahlbrand
19 October 2026
Susan, I am fascinated by your poem and the juxtaposition between tension and relaxation; especially thinking that this is where danger lives. I’d love a little calm in my life, but now after reading your poem, I need to rethink this. Your close lands perfectly. Thanks for sharing such a provocative poem!
Susan, this is a time for “vigilant contentment,” and you arrive at this conclusion reminding me about my relationships between tension and relaxation. That “danger” spot always finds me the moment tension leaves, and I begin to worry that I must have forgotten something, as if I can’t find peace in relaxation either. Thank you!
Susan, fascinating. I had to look up sarabande. I wish I knew more about the dance–tension and release, calm and thrilling, perhaps. I love the juxtaposition of so many words in your poem. Nice improvisation on the prompt, too, Susan! Enjoy your road trip.
Oh, wow! Susan, this is deep and true and thought provoking. I know this is BK’s latest one, and I have been hoping to read it. I can’t wait to hear what you think when you have finished it – – a road trip is the perfect backdrop for a great book. I need to go get in the Libby line for this one!
Hi Denise,
What a fun way to end our October’s Open Write. I love the hope of your poem. It inspired me!
I was on a neverending hunt that left me hating what I had written because I was forcing the 7th line of a poem and it just wouldn’t work. I almost gave up and then I remembered that we aren’t hard on ourselves here, and we are welcome to bend rules. So, I chose the 8th and 9th lines of the poem and used it as my striking line for a golden shovel. I used the words at starts and ends though.
Poem for the World
this bleeding nation, this
is bone-deep, soul-steeped suffering that is
a forever stain. a
poem can’t tell our story. but a poem
for hope, for joy, for
the possibilities of peace, opens the
world we dream, a poem for a new world
©Stacey L. Joy, 10/19/26
The striking line comes from the poem, Summary, found in Collected Poems Sonia Sanchez.
Oh, Stacey, I’m so glad you chose a different line! We are definitely not hard on ourselves here; what a great way to say that. Your magical golden shovel poem is so great. Having the same words at the beginning and end of your lines makes for some great internal repetition. “A poem for a new world” Amen, let it be.
Wow, Stacey, this is brilliant and I love your Canva illustration. I am particularly moved by “bone-deep, soul-steeped suffering”. Yes, we need to find a new world where we can embrace peace because what we’re living right now is “a forever stain”. Powerful poem!
I am enjoying that you went with the line that was calling out with more opportunity for you at that time. It’s a good reminder to not be hard on ourselves.
I especially am intrigued by the line “a poem for a new world” which seems filled with opportunity and peace and dreams…breath!
Stacey,
I love your poem and your hopeful visual.
Thank you.
I love how you have expressed our shared pain so viscerally
and then moved us on to hope and unity.
I hope the midterms bring us some of the change you write about.
There you go, Stacey, showing us another clever way to express important social observations in poetry. You keep our eyes open and our hope alive! Thanks.
Stacey, every time I read a golden shovel, I think of how you can be a masterclass on these, and here you have a double shovel that works so beautifully with the repetition and emphasis. I adore what you have done here.
Stacey,
I feel this line: “bone-deep, soul-steeped suffering.” It’s a visceral hurt I experience periodically watching that Mar-a-Lago moron destroy democracy. Then I remind myself each act on my part is a gesture of hope. Your poem beautifully captures that. I can’t give up on hope.
Denise, I must say that your last line “Let’s be poetry to each other” resonates strongly. This is always my goal for students during the course of the entire school year. Putting it into words so beautifully touches me.
Inspired by the line . . .
“One hundred years ago, the supremacy of politics was taken fro granted.”
And So I Choose
“Teachers will not be able to do
Whatever the hell they want”
Proclaimeth the supreme ruler of schools
And thus
I’ve no will, nor purpose
To engage in a system
Based on the belief
That achievement
As measured
By an individual assessment
And that alone
Reveals
A student’s intelligence
A student’s worth
A student’s path in life
Reveals
A teacher’s aptitude
Experience
And wisdom
To do right by students
As humans
As inquisitive learners
As knowledgeable
For the unique experiences
They offer
A classroom of
Diverse beings
And so I choose
To stand up
And speak out
For the injustices I witness
Every single day
Perpetrated by institutions
That claim
More testing
More accountability
To adhere to
With fidelity
A disjointed
Poorly designed curriculum
Even when students
Tune out
Cry out
And drop out
Mary, I love your poem. Yes, to allowing students to explore and express themselves. The testing, testing, testing is beyond ridiculous, and in my state something only public schools have to report while vouchers are given to private schools. I can see students tuning out, crying out and dropping out. Powerful piece. I’m glad your voicing you’re concerns.
Your last few lines are so bold. The students are doing that, aren’t they?! It has my interest and I wonder what to do, can I do, is to be done about this. How do we remember to be human in all of this “every single day”! Thank you for bringing attention to this.
Oh, wow, Mary Ruth, PREACH! I love the strength you bring to this poem, and the speaking out about testing the fidelity of teaching “disjointed poorly designed curriculum” Those last three lines were a mic drop moment.
Mary, yes! I read this and felt it from the first line – – we are too into the science of everything to think about the individual student in anything, and I love that your poem shares this sentiment. We need to leave room for students to be people and not just students.
Denise, thank you for this prompt with the lucky 7s. I like it and will introduce it to my students whenever I can. your “let’s make the world better” and “let’s be poetry to each other” are on my daily to-do list.
Sorry for being a bad student, who doesn’t follow instructions. So I chose seven books: one is the seventh novel we read in this semester’s YA course; the six other books were the seventh on my bookcase’s different shelves at home. I chose the line from the seventh page and seventh row from each one. I wanted the lines to talk with each other, so I ended up with this cento poem, composed from G. Polisher’s The Memory of Things, A. S. King’s The year We Fell from Space, G. Forman’s I Have Lost My Way, A. P. Nilsen’s Presenting M.E. Kerr, A. McBride’s The Leaving Room, S. Flake’s The Skin I’m In, and J. Lahiri’s The Namesake.
Seven Lines from Pain to Hope
My heart pounds so hard it hurts
Part one: things fall from space
“You know what? Maybe that’s smarter. I’ll talk to him.”
wrote ‘Touching’ on a rejection slip…
there are no doors
“Shoot… I sure ain’t looking at that face…”
(when she imagines) the baby in her arms.
Oh, wow, when the student does more than the assignment and makes it even better, that is not being a “bad” student, right? I like your title, which really helps weave the lines together.
Leilya, what a fascinating poem. I love the physical feel to this one. The hard hurt, touching and falling. Imagining a baby in her arms is provocative. Really amazing poem and I love the title.
Leilya, I love cento poems so much, and love that you considered more books and included lines from them. You wove meaning together beautifully in your poem!
Leilya,
We’re all teachers here and know teachers are notoriously bad at following directions! LOL! Anywho, clever take on the prompt. I felt as though I need to add to my TBR after reading your inspiration.
Thanks,Denise, for this great prompt, which I will remember for the days when my mind can’t focus. I appreciate the hope and resilience of your poem, but the seventh line of the seventh of the book ( Anderson’s Speak) on the shelf brought me somewhere else.
who knew there had been a war with the whole world?
certainly I did not, not when I sat on the stoop singing
poems made of rhyming words and ice cream, not when
I jumped rope or hopscotched over the sidewalk cracks.
now even children know there is war outside their window—
there is war in their world, in their country, their classroom.
splattered blood streaks across the playground like cracks in a sidewalk.
Ann, the Anderson’s question with your response is so resonant today in the world torn by war far and near, and for me it is on several fronts. The final line is heartbreaking. How can we get here in the 21st century? I would prefer sitting “on the stoop singing / poems made of rhyming words and ice cream,” like you did. Thank you for your words today.
Oh, Ann, what a poem. You have captured the differences in attitudes of our childhood and the childhood’s of those who have to think about war in their own neighborhood school. That last line–OMG!
You definitely found your way into this subject today, as I know it’s been on your mind after Bend. (I saw your comment on Gayle’s poem on Saturday.)
Wow! That’s a powerful line to inspire writing. I agree with you, this is a great prompt to use when writing needs to happen but the page is staring back blankly.
Your last line is powerful and draws the whole poem together. I am in awe how you do that with your words. Thank you for sharing this.
Ann,
Heartbreaking. Just heartbreaking.
Thank you for distilling the shooting in Bend and all of the violence in our world.
Wow! You have shown how time and probably technology have changed our world and how we get information. It is so sad that children had to be exposed to all of this. I am shocked at how many school shootings there have been in just this month. Your last line is a vision that is hard to forget.
I am reading YA for an award committee. The seventh book is a fantasy, and the seventh line of the seventh page is “would-be rebels.”
VOTE
i would be her
holding justice signs high
but She waves words, verse
calling all rebels to be
at polls with voice in ballots
for change—or coup.
Sarah what a powerful poem. I love where you took “would-be rebels”. The power of words and verse here–yes, in “holding justice signs high” That last word is haunting.
Sarah, I am in the YA mode this semester too because I teach the course in the fall. I recognize Denise as she in your poem with the justice sign, and it seems that Her line “let’s reach for the resilience” speaks to your poem directly by “calling all rebels to be / at polls with voice in ballots / for change—or coup.” So ready for a coup; I don’t want to imagine the current situation to stay any longer. Thank you!
I’m ready, Sarah. A very powerful call.
Yes, let us be her!! Let us hold justice signs! Let us be rebels!!
Thank you, Sarah!
#vote 🗳️
Sarah, this is such a timely poem. I love the title and the opening line drew me right into your poem. I love that she’s holding a justice sign and waving words that call all rebels. We need these wonderful voices for change or even a coup. Fabulous poem!
Hear! Hear!
I love your “would be her” in response to “would-be rebels!” That made me smile big – – I can see you holding the sign!
Sarah,
Let your inner rebel roam free! You are among some rebels here. I love this poem and its message “to be / at polls with voice in ballots.” My cause this election season is Yes On Prop 1. I’ve been knocking on doors and working at booths to pass the proposition.
Thank you for your beautiful poem. “let’s be poetry to each other,” is really inspiring. Denise- you remind us that poems can be found any and everywhere. My seventh page was found in the seventh book on my shelf, Poetry Comics by Grant Snider, The Empty Lot’s seventh line is possums sleep, written with illustrations all around. Here’s my tanka written after some research about possums.
Where Possums Sleep
hollow stumps, tree roots
habitats flowing with peace
nature abounds there
as they rummage, feast and thrive
on berries, tiny insects
and more…
Juliette, you make possums so precious in your tender treatment of sleep “flowing with peace.” Even the insects next to the berries are lovely. As only a poet can do.
Juliette, what a sweet little poem that wouldn’t have been written if you wouldn’t have looked for that seventh book today. I love that you did some possum research and wrote such a sweet poetic version of your research. “Rummage” is a great word for what they do. Like Sarah, I love the “flowing with peace” and “nature abounds there” You gave them “tender treatment,” indeed. It’s good to see you here today.
Thank you for your kind words. I didn’t want to take credit for that line, so the post has been edited to show O’Tuama’s influence.
I love this Juliette! So soothing to read of habitats flowing with peace. Wish we could learn from the possums! The image you paint is lovely!
Juliette, what a nice, peaceful narration of the possums sleeping place! Your poem reminded me of a friend who actually feeds them in her yard, so they aren’t tempted to rummage through her garden. Thank you for sharing!
Oh, how I love possums. Armadillos are the bane of my existence here in Georgia where they like to eat up air conditioning wires, but possums are a big helper with ticks. I’m so glad you gave them a spotlight today with all the good they do.
Deinise, in addition to this prompt, your last line, “let’s be poetry to each other,” was a lovely way to start a Monday with warmth and some fire. Can we make stickers or shirts with your phrase? 💜
I say…
martinet of Inclusion
dictator of Immigrants
oppressor of Indigenous communities
despot of Implicit bias
autocrat of Intersectionality
taskmaster of Integration
tyrant of Ideology
_______________________________
7th book on top shelf, On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder, page 7 was still the table of contents, so the 7th line: Listen for Dangerous words. This immediately led me back to this banned word list for further inspiration.
Oh, yes. Let’s be poetry for each other. I have been wanting to read Tyranny in full but haven’t gotten far. Nudge accepted. Your words in succession offer such intensity and evidence of a government but I am also looking inward.
Oh, my gosh, Stefani, that banned word list was perfect for today. Your link didn’t take me there, but I found the growing list here: https://pen.org/banned-words-list/ Yikes! Your format is succinct and really does say the truth. I love your title, and I say, Vote like crazy about “topics that have received widespread or critical media attention.”
I added O Tuama’s word to my seventh line, “be poetry to each other.” So it is really his line that I echoed with let’s, but yes, to it on a tee-shirt!
Stefani, the names in your list sound as powerful charges against our current government and their banning practices. I like that you chose them beginning with the same letter for the sound effect to strengthen the message.
I, too, went to that list (the link might be broken, but easily searchable), and some words that are included there are the words we just can’t avoid using especially in teaching. This is about tyranny, dictatorship, and autocracy indeed.
Stefani, I love the language and power of your poem. The format is perfect and the closing line ends perfectly. I also love your idea about making a shirt out of Denise’s poem. Fantastic idea!
Stefani, I love that your poem took the banned word list direction. I can hear all the emotion in every line.
Denise, awesome prompt! Like Anna, Matt, and Joel this month, you have shown us that poetry can be found anywhere – in reflecting on educational issues, in stories, in household objects, even in the books on our shelves. Thanks to all 4 hosts! You inspire me to want to rearrange the letters in November and October to start tomorrow reading a book of poetry a day for a month (ENCORE REBOOT?). I’ll need that to make my goal of 60 books this year. As always, thank you for the inspiration and the positive difference you make in my life.
I looked to the seventh shelf, seventh book from the left, and plucked Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge (epistolary nonfiction) by Gladys Taber and Barbara Webster from the bookcase. The seventh sentence: Even when the mortgage reared its ugly head, we never regretted it and now it is fine to know everything is paid for, our forty acres – although how can man own God’s earth? – and the 1690 farmhouse, and the barn, even the pond, and presumably that cricket chirping endlessly on the hearth is also ours.
I chose a tanka for today.
Merely Caretakers
how can man own God’s
earth? impossible, for we’re
merely caretakers!
(and let’s be real ~ we pretty
much suck at that simple task)….
I want to spend a month with your bookshelf, Kim! That turnnin your tanka is perfectly candid and deserved.
Kim, so good! Your poem makes me smile and cry both. This morning I read in Revelations 7, “Do not harm the earth, the sea, or the trees…” My daughter had it on a tee-shirt when she was little. We do suck at that mandate. An Encore Reboot sounds like a great idea for October and November!
Brutally honest Kim. “That cricket chirping on the hearth.” This really speaks to the mindset of many.
Nailed it!!! We suck!
Oh, Kim, “How can man own God’s earth?” is a question of questions, but there are a few who think they can. You are right, we suck at caretaking, and owning requires much more responsibility and commitment. So much wisdom in your tanka–thank you! and thank you for inviting us to your bookshelf )).
Wow, Kim, what a question to open this poem. I love the diction and voice because I agree we do suck when it comes to taking care of the Earth. Smart and powerful poem!
You sure do a great job of taking that sentence into something bigger and smaller all at the same time. “Merely caretakers” such as great phrase.
Kim,
Indeed, we humans “suck” at taking care of our planet. I think about what this admin is doing to our parks, what data centers do to our water supplies, etc.