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
Angie has been teaching English since 2013. She started her teaching career in Louisiana for five years, then moved overseas and taught in Bangladesh and Kuwait. She currently teaches in Mauritius. Her overseas experiences have opened her mind in ways that may have never happened if she had stayed in the states. She is grateful for this community of writers and to have monthly opportunities to write, read, and share poetry. It has influenced who she is as a teacher, and person in general, in many ways.
Inspiration
I taught Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds for the first time this year. It went as wonderful as I always heard from other teachers. Such a magical book. (Some student poetry is linked after my poem below!) I paired it with the young adult version of Just Mercy. In Long Way Down, main character Will shares 6 anagrams: a veil/alive, cool/loco, scare/cares, canoe/ocean, feel/flee, cinema/iceman and for the last he only says, “I wish I knew an anagram for POSER” (Reynolds 257).
This made me want to explore turning one of these into a poem. Will mentions the anagrams but Reynolds leaves possible meanings and interpretations up to the reader. I know of anagrams being explored in this space 3 years ago with the gracious guidance of Fran Haley after Uvalde.
Today, I invite you to focus on options that you could use with your students in the future.
Process
- If you are familiar with Long Way Down, you could try to write a poem based on one of the above anagrams in Will’s voice. You could mirror the setup of one of the poems from the novel.
- Look through a text you are teaching, currently reading, or one of your favorite texts for an important word and create an anagram poem out of that. This could be a free verse poem.
- Make an anagram poem out of an important content word based on a subject you teach (i.e. metaphor, particle, decimal, etc.) It could possibly work as a definition poem.
- Use a name as the focus for an anagram poem. It could be your own name, an author’s name, a character’s name, or a relative or friend’s name. This could be a letter poem.
- For any of these options, using this anagram generator might help you with ideas: https://ingesanagram.com (shared in Fran’s 2022 prompt)
I chose the first option and the type of poem choice was inspired by Will’s thought about an anagram for poser.
Angie’s Poem
As I met the ghosts one by one, I thought they’d just confirm the ropes I’d been shown. Crying, don’t. Snitching, don’t. Revenge, do. But when Frick said “Who?” uncertainty seeped into my pores. I realized the rules were only meant for the broken to break. After that, I had nothing left to do but start all over. Go back to the beginning and unlearn all I’d been told. Become a brand new spore. So did I go when Shawn asked, “You coming?” No, I didn’t. I rode the elevator back up and did something I’d never done before. I rewrote the rules using an anagram for poser. Prose, a more powerful tool. Prose, a place where I can finally be honest.
Cry if you need to
Choose mercy over revenge
Tell the truth, always
BONUS student poetry! Anagram or Fib Poem
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.
Essays/say yes
Please!
Just write your own thoughts
I didn’t ask the robot overlords
for a lesson they learned
or a scene from their lives
or their opinions or perspectives.
I want to hear YOU!
YI, not AI!
I hate writing down ZERO
But I hate it even more when I hear silence.
Tell me your story.
I want to hear your voice.
Luke, wow! This is beautiful. Essays / Say yes Is a stellar anagram phrase. I love the pleading in it to just hear your students stories. Such an important lesson. This is one of the best teaching with AI pieces I’ve read. I hope it could be read by a lot of teachers–maybe in some education journal. I love YI (Your Intelligence?) not AI.
Ooh boy – it’s late, I’ve spent almost all day grading 12th grade creative writing, and I’m feeling silly. I love Long Way Down and am sad that we finished it in December; I’m definitely going to add anagram poems to next year’s lessons. As it stands, I copied a bit of Anna’s idea and played with anagrams of my own name. I decided to write a “poem” where the title is a perfect anagram for my name and the rest of the poem contains words that can be made with the letters of my name. It’s not *exactly* poetry, but it did make me giggle.
Amanda Potts, Mad Atop Ants
Mad atop ants,
Amanda stomps sand.
Drama.
Pants, “stop!”
Adapts.
Maps data.
Moat! Sop sand!
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
Most ants: sad nomads.
It seems like you did have fun, Amanda! This is a clever approach to play with the letters of your name. You’ve got some cool words there, and some of my favorites are: Drama, Maps data, Sop sand. The final line, too, deserves attention. Thank you!
OMG “Mad Atop Ants” is hilarious. And I love “most ants: sad nomads”. Yes, fun!
Amanda, that is hilarious! I love reading all those words that can be made from your name. Clever! And I would call it poetry!
A pregunta poem proposes a question in its first stanza and then offers a response in the second, carefully following the same form and architecture. The power of the poem often lives in how the answer revises, deepens, or gently contradicts the original asking. Píntate is a family-friendly running event in Mazatlán that blends motion, joy, and togetherness, inviting participants to quite literally paint themselves into the life of the city. We didn’t participate because we didn’t know about it until we saw it happening down the street.
PÍNTATE / PAINT YOURSELF
Pregunta
Is today a PÍNTATE day—
a day to tend yourself into being,
to enter the morning
like a body kept alive by motion,
like a surface that must be renewed?
Will you PAINT the malecón
with your running,
salt opening the skin,
breath holding the hours,
family threading the air beside you?
Or remain INEPT AT the upkeep of living—
waiting for meaning
to arrive already finished,
unworn by heat,
untouched by miles?
If you do not PÍNTATE
into this light, this ache, this race,
who maintains the self
you are becoming?
Who will this morning say you were?
Respuesta
Today is a PÍNTATE day—
you tend yourself into being,
you enter the morning
as something kept alive by motion,
as a surface renewed by touch.
You PAINT the malecón
with your running,
salt opening the skin,
breath holding the hours,
family moving the air beside you.
You are no longer INEPT AT the upkeep of living—
you practice meaning,
you wear the miles,
you let heat write the body
into the day.
You PÍNTATE
into this light, this ache, this race,
and the self you are becoming
is maintained.
The morning knows your name.
Sarah, I see the loving of the world and all the adventures in your lines today. The slower pace is allowing a time to breathe, to tap into all the universe has to offer so that the morning knows your name. This is truly a gem, and your repeated use of the anagrams adds to the mood and tone.
What a marvel of a poem! You’ve taken anagrams to another level by adding in the Spanish. Your imagery is lush- I want to be right there on the malecón with you! Thanks for giving us this treat, Sarah!
Sarah, I love reading these preguntas y respuestas. It was fascinating to re-read the second half as answers. The second Q&A is my favorite. Such masterful turns of phrase:
You are learning so much! Who knew about the Pintate? Thanks for teaching us about it and introducing us to this new form too.
Hi Sarah! Yes, thank you for sharing this form and event with us. I love the affirmative nature of the repuesta. I especially love the move from “Who will this morning say you were?” to “The morning knows your name”. My dream is to live in a spanish speaking country and learn it fluently finally, as I should have when I was growing up.
Angie,
Thank you for your awesome prompt! Our 8th grade Honors classes teach Long Way Down, and I can’t wait to share this poetry prompt with the teachers. Your poetry and your student’s poetry really captured Will’s character and the pain he is enduring as he wrestle with his thoughts on his “long way down.”
I’ve been very interested in female scientists lately and wanting to write about them. In fact, I would love to write a picture book in verse about female scientists one day. So my poem is about Dorothy Hodgkin, who won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry for solving the atomic structure of molecules in pencillin and insulin using X-rays with crystals (crytallography).
I used the Haibun format.
Dorothy Dreams of Crystals
In a world of wonder, bright and vast. Dorothy had many questions to ask.
Growing up in Khartoum, Sudan, surrounded by acacia trees and open plains
She studied pebbles in the running streams. Enveloped in the natural world where storks, herons and kingfishers flew. With specimens Dorothy’s attic laboratory grew.
Garden soil, rich and black, she would also study that. Specimens gathered from the natural world. All examined with a gifted chemistry set. But it was in crystals that she dreamed.
She dreamed of crystals
Orderly and repeating
Revealing structures
She trusted order
Crystallographically
To the find answers
She dreamed of crystals
The invisible now made
Visible to world
First, let me say your picture book idea sounds great, Tammi. Thanks for teaching me about Dorothy Hodgkin. I’d never heard of her before. Your prose is as impressive as your poem!
Ah, Tammi, I love your idea for the book of verse about female scientists. And what an addition this will be. I love the rhyming and imagery in the prose portion. The title and repetition of “She dreamed of crystals” in the haiku are effective, as well.
Wow, Tammi. This is so interesting. I didn’t know about her either and all the great imagery in your haibun would work so well in a picture book in verse!
Splitting Headaches
By Mo Daley 1/18/26
A decapitating ache
Each day displacing
PEACE
It agitates
Instigates
as I
Anticipate
Tentacles
dispatching
Mo,
I am so sorry to read this poem that clearly speaks to your pain. But I’m also reading this metaphorically, perhaps because this year has been a national migraine. “Tentacles / dispatching” is particularly prescient both physically and symbolically.
Oooph, I feel this in my core. I pray you get relief soon. 🙏🏽
Mo,
This poem is making me feel the constant pressure of a pain that won’t let peace settle. It feels like living inside a nervous system. The line “A decapitating ache / Each day displacing / PEACE” is especially powerful because it captures how pain doesn’t just hurt the body—it removes orientation, clarity, and calm, almost like taking away one’s inner headspace. Sending comfort.
Sarah
Mo,
I don’t get migrains, but both of my daughters do and I have witnessed first hand how debilitating the “decapitating ache” can be. I hope you get some relief. I, like Glenda, also enjoyed how your poem can be interpreted metaphorically. This has been one hell of a January!
Oh, wow, Mo. I’m so sorry for those headaches. In spite of them, you have created a masterful story here with all but one word being an anagrams of “splitting headaches.” What? So impressive. I’m glad you took time to write it. Hope there is relief soon.
Mo, these are the worst, so debilitating! Thank you for articulating this “decapitating ache” so well. I hope those “Tentacles [dispatch]” soon!
Wow, what powerful words added here to describe a splitting headache. So sorry! If you wrote this while having a headache, bravo! There’s no way I could have.
A Totally Untrue Truth
According to
several sources,
Hamlet, acclaimed play
by William Shakespeare,
“borrowed” quite liberally
from the lesser known
Elizabethan playwright
Allie Seraphim Wesak’s play
Thelma the princess of Denmark.
_________________________________________________________
Angie, thank you for this fun prompt! I loved your mentor poem (“Prose, a more powerful tool. Prose, a place where I can finally be honest”). And thank you for sharing your students’ poems with us! Each poem has moments of real insight and each illustrates deft poetic craft. So good!
Scott,
Is this the new Marlow conspiracy? I haven’t heard this theory, but I do know Shakespeare was a “borrower,” and am not sure if he was a “lender” in his day.
Scott,
This poem is making me smile and think about how we construct truth and authority. The line “According to / several sources,” is especially powerful because it mimics academic certainty while gently undermining it, inviting us into a clever, imaginative re-seeing of literary history. I love the wit here.
Sarah
Scott –The title of your poem made me chuckle, making me think of all the nonsense we are bombarded with on social media which claims to be truth. Yet, there is some truth to the untruth, too!
Thanks for the chuckle, Scott. I always appreciate the humor in your poetry. Thelma sounds amazing!
This made me giggle – and since it’s late & I’m feeling silly, that’s just what I needed. Oh Thelma, princess of Denmark, I sense your day is coming!
Hamlet – Thelma – And their names! OMG! It took me a while. Only Scott would come up with such clever anagrams and poem! So funny and good. Masterpiece!
LOL! I totally bypassed the title and started looking this up. I got the Thelma as an anagram but took me a while to get the Allie anagram. 🤦🏻♀️ thanks for giving me multiple chuckles and “D’oh!”s
Hello All, just letting you know it’s 11pm in Mauritius and I’m going to bed. Will comment on anyone else who writes tomorrow! Good night 🙂
Thanks for letting us know you are not “neglecting us”. Please, when you you have time, let’s talk about your experience there on Mauritius. I was there briefly as a part of an educators exchange program with ROTARY INTERNATIONAL and had some exciting eye-opening experiences there.
Angie, Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, so I asked ChatGPT to generate an anagram of my full name, thinking it would take “just a moment,” and then I could write the poem based on the words that the AI app generated. It took a LOOOOOOOONGGGG time to come up with a phrase that made sense using only the letters in my names. This lets me know that if I’m to give this assignment, I must allot time to think, generate a list, and then proceed to the next step. The opening line in bold font with quotation marks comes from my buddy Chat!
“A small roar; jab; an O sermon!”
Stand up. Anna, come on.
Anna Jamar Small Roseboro
Get ready, get set, and go!
This is your name and just a game.
Do this, then ask students to do the same.
Can you imagine how tough this will be?
And how students will roar with glee
When at last they can see all that they could be!
I mean that’s a pretty amazing anagram for your full name. I think I looked mine up when I put this together and nothing was as cool as that title! Thanks for sharing.
This is funny and interesting! “A small roar” I wonder if you’d agree there is a small roar inside of you?? I know there’s no jab, but there’s definitely a sermon, right?
Cute!
Anna,
This poem is making me think about how naming can become an invitation instead of a label. The line “This is your name and just a game. / Do this, then ask students to do the same.” is especially moving because it captures a pedagogy rooted in joy, permission, and becoming. It imagines a classroom where students meet themselves through play.
Peace,
Sarah
Anna — Your name poem is so fun! I agree students could really have some fun with this!
I love this! In fact, I love this so much I used your idea for my poem (though mine is pure silliness). And, like you, I may “ask students to do the same.” I suspect they will find this quite fun.
Anna, what fun! I think “the students will roar with glee” Fun activity you have written about. After I read your poem, I went to the anagram creator. I’ve been there laughing at some of the anagrams of my grandkids, kids, hubby, and me. One of my favorites was Methusaleh Towboat.
Anna, I love the idea of “ask[ing] students to do the same”! I agree with you that they’d “roar with glee / [w]hen at last they can see all that they could be!” Thank you for this!
There once LIVED 2 DOG.
Dee- Oh- Gee,
guarded my home,
looking at the Devil,
staring alone.
A black Pit,
with a red chain,
across the street,
Devil was his name.
Dee- Oh-Gee
a small Datsun,
around the yard,
he would run.
He came to me,
and healed on command,
helped me raise
my son into a man.
Little Datsun with a
big heart,
has been with me,
from the start.
Through sickness,
and death,
he kept the pit at bay,
that lived to the left.
How could a little dog,
be so strong,
to secure,
my home,
from Devil
who lived alone?
Devil sat and watched
us grow,
Tried to lure me,
but,
Dee Oh- Gee protected
my soul.
Once I wanted to
just give up
Devil howled
” you can lived up
Come to my side,
and live,
I have what,
Dee- Oh-Gee can’t give”
But with a nudge,
on my leg,
Dee- Oh-Gee
prayed with me instead.
Today I look at,
my dog in the drive,
and thank,
Gee-Oh-Dee,
I am still alive.
Nice story in this poem Boxer and I love how it sounds like a fairy tale or nursery rhyme. Dog and god is popular today! Thank you for sharing.
Wow, your approach to this fascinates me. The story intrigued me and I was worried there would be a loss. Grateful for the ending! I believe in the spirit nudges from our fur babies.💙
Boxer,
This poem is making me feel the long arc of endurance—through sickness, temptation, fear, and love. The line “How could a little dog, / be so strong,” is especially vivid because it names the mystery at the heart of the poem: how something small can hold back something devastating. Thank you for this testimony in story.
Peace,
Sarah
Boxer,
Your poem is so clever, Dee-Oh-Gee — Love this anagram! Coincidentally, my grandmother actually called her dog Dee-Oh-Gee, too). The narration of your poem/story was so heartfelt! It was clear that Dee-Oh_Gee was an important piece of your family.
Dee – Oh – Gee! A true Boxer original here! I remember the day you came to deliver the wood and asked if dem dogs would get you……no, we contained our little devils. Brings back the memories of the day, your poem today!
Boxer, wow, this is touching and such a sweet story of that sweet little Dee-Oh-Gee! The last stanza is an excellent reminder to be thankful.
Academic Anagrams with Angie! Fun!!!! ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Thank you for this opportunity to play with words. I don’t think I’ve written a poem from an anagram before. I love how you remind us of the power of prose! I will read your students’ poems next. Thank you for sharing them with us.
I wrote an etheree.
Teacher? Cheater?
A
Teacher
Called to serve
Lesson planner
Shaping young bright minds
Honest blank-paper days
Gone with AI and Google
Tempted by easy shortcuts now
But is this the new way of teaching
Am I a true teacher or a cheater?
©Stacey L. Joy, 1/18/26
Hi Stacey, thank you for questioning the current ethical issue in teaching. There are some teachers who overuse AI and expect their students not to do the same. Obviously I don’t understand those people. I use it as a search engine occasionally. I can honestly say I will never use it to seriously write anything and definitely not claim it was my own writing. And I wish there were more people like this.
Stacey,
The sharp tone is perfect. I’m so disgusted by the AI crowd in education. Yet these are the same TPT teachers whom we’ve seen since the internet made its debut. 😑
Wow, Stacey! What a provocative poem. Your word choice is perfect. I love how it shows a teacher’s work. The closing question is dynamic. Would love to have educators discuss the question? Powerful poem and love the etheree form you used to shape this one.
Stacey, your poem depicts the great stress AI has put on those of us schooled the “old way.” Trust me, my grad students have NO qualms about using it!
Stacey,
This poem is making me feel the vulnerability of asking who we are when the tools change. The line “Am I a true teacher or a cheater?” is especially powerful because it doesn’t pretend to know—it risks the question, and that risk feels like the truest form of teaching. This stayed with me.
Peace,
Sarah
Stacey,
I can relate to this dilemma, but I have to say the time that AI saves makes me use it more frequently than I ever thought I would.
Just the other day, I had to create a rotation schedule for student participants at a tournament I was running. I had 33 students I had to rotate through eight tables in three rounds of game play. It would have taken me hours to chart. AI completed the task for me adding table symbols in five minutes.
I ‘d like to think if AI can save us time creating lessons, we have more time to devote to relationship building with our students.
Hmm. Never until this moment had I ever realized “teacher” and “cheater” were anagrams.
And does AI ever make us teeter those things. And the kids too. It’s a new world. Is it brave?
The anagram sings truth, and wow! Teacher/cheater – – I never took the time to notice the same letters in each. You’ve opened my eyes today to the truths of AI. It erases the cognitive lift learning requires.
Wow. I never realized teacher and cheater were anagrams. Yikes! Perfect for this AI questioning poem. I love what Sarah said about that final question being such a teacherly one that “doesn’t pretend to know” So powerful and honest!
Angie,
Thanks for hosting. Yes, Long Way Down is a wonderful book. I taught it in summer school after my last year teaching in 2019, but I’d forgotten about the anagrams, Love the haiku ending you’d haibun poem.
Stanley stayed beside me as I write this poem. I took his photo right before posting,
Anagram for Stanley
this holy day
the Lord shows
the nature of God
in our dog—
next to me
on my lap
fur-babe pal
a puppy mate
the best company
will always be
a canine companion
God’s cannie creation
Glenda Funk
January 17, 2026
Oh, so lovely! Look at Stanley–so precious. The picture shows why you had to write this one today. And your expert use of the anagrams in each stanza are perfection. I especially like canine and cannie. Beautiful!
Glenda, Stanley is a natural model and certainly deserves a poem. So cute! Love the humor/irony in “a canine companion / God’s cannie creation.”
Such a sweet Stanley poem! Thanks for sharing Glenda. “The nature of God / in our dog” is my favorite 🐶
Glenda, I love Stanley!! Too much cuteness! Clever creation of anagrams for your poem too!
🩵
Brilliant poem, Glenda. Your anagrams are perfect to show your love for Stanley. Such a handsome canine, indeed! Precious!
Glenda, thank you for this wonderful happy image and the words which portray unconditional love.
Glenda, I love this picture of Stanley! He’s very cute and very expressive! “Um, ok, Mom, you’ve finished with your poem thingee, and yes, I know it was an ode of sorts to me, but, do you think you could spare a few moments now for some belly rubs?” (And your last stanza with “canine” to “cannie” is great!)
Oh, Glenda. This poem is making me feel how companionship itself can be a form of meditation. The line “the best company / will always be / a canine companion” is especially moving because it speaks without irony—naming loyalty and presence as precious gifts. Thank you for this soft, shining offering. So grateful for your words today.
Glenda,
Stanley is so cute. I can feel the puppy love in your poem.Love that first stanza “the Lord shows/the nature of God/in our dog—” I feel nature and animals are great reminders of God’s presence.
Stanley is adorable and so is this poem inspired by him!
Stanley brings an instant smile! Yes, the lap pals rule in our house, too, and aren’t we blessed by their unconditional love??
Canine – cannie! Now that’s a fun anagram. And I always love Stanley photos & poems. 🙂
Angie,
Thank you for this sweet prompt today! Soooo many choices. Your haibun is perfect, and speaks truth. Here’s to prose and poetry for exposing the truth. Your students’ poems–amazing. Give them all kudos from me! Yeah, Joanna makes the abecedarian look easy. Wow. I just wrote a letter to my congressman, who is doing nothing but rubber stamping this hot mess administration, so I had Greenland on my mind when I came here.
Greenland
Who are we to endanger
our ally for greed and rage?
Learn from the edge
of this near deranged age:
In this age of danger,
our elder-eared rag leader
will lean into gnarling
and rending the regal eagle.
Denise,
Amen! Love this poem, its message, your advocacy and fidelity to speaking truth and taking a stand. Every line packs a punch. “rending regal eagle” speaks to the symbolic destruction we’re witnessing,
Denise, I think about Greenland, Venezuela, and ambitious aggressive agenda of current administration. How is it better than russia’s greed for creating an empire? Your poem is so well and thoughtfully crafted. I love endanger / greed and rage anagram, as well as a distinct name for the “elder-eared rag leader.” Your word plays are so careful, intentional, and carry loads of meaning. Thank you!
Hi Denise, “this near deranged age” right next to “age of danger” is brilliant. Amazing anagram filled poem which is also quite a tongue twister!
MIC DROP 🎤
Powerful truths! I’m impressed with all your anagrams.
Well done, my friend!
Denise, your poem is rife with anger and the injustice occurring in our world. Love the diction throughout, and love your final line! This poem is on fire!
Denise, THIS is a masterfully crafted truth for this “age of danger.” I have also written to congressmen and really struggle to even believe it is all real and not just a foil to forget about: Jeffry, Minnesota, January 6, the tariffs…………………………
Denise, your poem expresses many feelings that few are willing to express. Your poem also shows how we can invite students to comment on current events by using the anagram approach to collect words for their commentaries. I may try this next week, when I go to our local middle school, to give a “poetry” presentation to celebrate Phillis Wheatley being honored with her picture on a USPS stamp! Just for fun, I’m blending a section on Bill Withers to show the link between music and poetry, but looking at the fact that the letter that begins both of their last names is W. Look at the center of this letter and think of Bill Wither’s well known song “Lean on Me!” What we’re going to have, now that I see how you’ve used the anagram.
Denise,
This poem is making me feel the pressure of this moment—how tightly it’s wound. The line “our elder-eared rag leader” is especially vivid because it’s doing political work through music and fracture, letting the language itself snarl and unravel what it names. The compression here is astonishing.
Peace,
Sarah
Denise,
Truth! You pose an important question, “Who are we to endanger/our ally for greed and rage?” I am truly disgusted by our leaders. Thank you for writing to your congressman. I am inspired by you today, to do the same.
Denise, the near deranged age in the age of anger is a real and prevalent feeling right about now. I’m chuckling and trembling all at once. The truth of it is truly scary – – your way with words (elder-eared rag leader) shows how you can take the truth and double spin it with the same letters.
Angie, thank you for the prompt. I, too, offer my students to read Long way Down, and they always find it amazing. In fact, there is one of my students’ review of the novel on Dr. Bickmore’s YA Wednesday blog under the Weekend Picks on January 16th.
Your prose poem goes well with the poser/prose/spore anagrams. The ending haiku with the new rules truly reflects Will’s growth over that minute riding in the elevator.
I chose cares/scare/acres for my short poem:
I begin with cares–
small worries of the day.
They swiftly turn into a scare
when I hold them tightly.
But given space,
they become acres
with room to breathe,
and room to stand.
Leilya, THIS is lovely and so true! You have used those anagrams to craft a powerful message and a strong reminder.
Oh, Leilya, wow. How did you do that? I love the idea of cares becoming scares when held too tightly. That is a lovely image. That second stanza, so lovely with space, room, and breathing!
Leilya,
Im right there w/ you. I love the paradox in the image of acres making room for worries and a place to take a stand. Peace and love to you, dear friend.
I love the movement in this poem, Leilya. The use of the word acres is so appropriate, offering a positively expansive ending. Lovely!
Leilya, I love the positive turn in your poem. Your poem shows the problem with focusing on one’s worries and the power of giving problems space. Powerful anagram poem!
This poem is making me think about how anagrams don’t just rearrange letters, but experience. The line “They swiftly turn into a scare / when I hold them tightly” is especially powerful because it names how pressure—not the worry itself—creates fear. The turn to “acres” feels earned, spacious, and wise.
Peace to you, Leilya.
Leilya, becoming acres with room to breathe……such a refreshing feeling of tackling stressful cares that become scares. Love what you’ve done here.
Angie,
This is such a great prompt, rooted and inspired by a book that is so very powerful.
Your haiku distills those lines from the text so perfectly.
Somehow, I never read Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt. Yes, I am of Irish descent, and yes, I was a teacher. Somehow, I never dug in. But because we are planning a trip to Ireland, I have been reading Irish-ish books for the past few months and I am tackling the audio of Angela’s Ashes now. What a gem to listen to as it is narrated by the author with his Irish brogue.
I decided to take a common response in the text . . . ’tis . . . and anagram it with what his dad does expertly . . . sit. In the pubs. The tragedy and hardship that their lives were filled with daily make me especially appreciative on this Sunday morning.
‘Tis to Sit
His job ‘tis to sit
Babies die
he plops his arse
in the pub
and drinks
pint after pint
He has no job
so he takes the dole
of nineteen shillings and sixpence
and rather than feed and clothe
his kids,
he plops his arse
in the pub
and sips on stout.
Oliver then Eugene die
so he sings
of Roddy McCorley
and tells of his woes
in the pub
and roosts his arse
and sympathy pints
are given.
The River Shannon
takes and ruins
and forces them upstairs
so he goes to the pub
and pours the pints
down and stumbles
in singing
and forces the boys awake
and makes them stand
like a soldier
and pledge to die for Ireland.
The fleas in the mattress
leave them itching and itching
and his north accent stops
him from getting a job
so he puts his arse
on the stool and
drinks bottles of stout
with the dole
while Mam takes
pills to combat the darkness.
Frank and Malachy load the furniture from the
St. Vincent de Paul Society
onto the pram and wobble it down
Roden Lane
past the lavatory they share with the
neighbors
while he sits his arse in the pub
as a champion pint drinker.
They gather coal along Dock Road
to heat the water to boiling
for cabbage and potatoes and
the shameful pig’s head
for Christmas dinner
while his arse is on the
stool in the pub
drinking stout.
The aunts and uncles
pray to Jasus, Mary, and holy Saint Joseph
for him to quit the drink
yet he sits his arse
in the pub drinking the
black stuff
and comes home reeking
and telling stories of Cuchulain
while Mam cries in the bed
next to us.
When the Angel on the Seventh Stair
brings baby Michael,
he gets a job at the cement factory
but hours after dark
he hasn’t come home with his wages
and Mam sends us to
the pub to drag his arse off the stool
to come home.
The First Communion and the Collection
and James Cagney
bring us light and shame and light
while he sits his arse in the pub
as masters use the
leather straps, canes, blackthorn sticks
and he never even raises his voice.
The neighbors call him a
feckin eejit
for sitting his arse in the pub
while we starve and die
and Mam cries.
‘Tis my life.
for him to sit
in the pub
and drown our troubles
while we deal with them.
‘Tis.
~Susan Ahlbrand
18 January 2026
Susan, thank you for introducing me to Angela’s Ashes. Your rendering of the story in this poem sounds so sad and hopeless. The saddest, for me, that I’d known people like “he,” who would try wash down every tragedy, every misfortune, and everything that went wrong with a pint or two of liquor. It makes me think whether it is weakness, inability to process grief, or is it such a dire desperation that destroys a human from within. Maybe, it’s all together. The repeating “arse in the pub” with varying verbs creates that gloomy, wretched tone throughout the poem.
Susan, I have not read this one either, despite it being everywhere for the longest time (much like the arse on the stool). I was lulled by the rhythm of your poem, with its repetition and continual drawing back to the arse in the pub – I could feel the drudgery and despair, the weight and the hopelessness. Wonderfully crafted. If you are anywhere near The Burren, I highly recommend a trip, if only for the food. Everything is organic, the location is a secret getaway, and the rose hip oil is wondrous.
Susan, I read this one long ago and remember disliking the father while trying to understand the culture of that time and the structure of families. Your poem captures so many of the sad parts of this story. While I am 25% Irish, I never knew my grandfather and barely knew my grandmother; yet, I read this book wondering about their own relationship and how they dealt with their own tragedies.
Susan, you have captured the essence of this sad man with your anagram poem. Wow. It was a privilege to read it today. This line with two “lights” sandwiched around “shame” poignantly spoke to me of the hope, faith, and even joy of the children left at home without a present father and mother. “bring us light and shame and light” So powerful.
Wow, what a poem has come out of this prompt. I’ve heard of Angela’s Ashes but knew nothing about it. Your poem makes me want to listen to the audiobook as well. The Irish voice you’ve incorporated is amazing. Thank you for sharing!
Susan. This poem is making me think about how repetition becomes a kind of bruising. The line “‘Tis to sit” is especially powerful because every return to it lands heavier—the anagram turning wit into witness. Each time his body goes to the stool, the children’s lives are forced somewhere else. The structure itself carries the damage.
Hugs,
Sarah
I haven’t read that one, but I watched the movie. It’s a heartbreaker, and you capture the essence of character here so well, especially the spelling with the dialect. I do love those cultural linguistics that give such identity and uniqueness to writing like you have done here.
Angie, thanks for your inspiration today. Feeling a lot of damage today which inspired this poem. I could see students appreciating the word play and love that you shared their poems.
Eve’s Curse
A dame made
a dam aged game.
Now crazed men
make more dead.
Barb Edler
18 January 2026
Hi, Barb! I like how you played with anagrams here–very skillfully. These first two lines could make a fun tongue twister if not for sad reality. Why do these “crazed men” crave violence? Thank you for your words.
Love it, Barb! Perfectly titled. Perfectly rendered. Hugs to you today.
Barb, WOW. You have managed to share a powerful message in just a few carefully selected words.
I can se setting here too – you put a humorous spin on the decision to bite into that fruit, and that last line has me laughing even as it is true. Well done!
Oh, Barb, the title of your damage poem is perfect. And those last two lines pretty much just cover human history. Sorry you are feeling a lot of damage today.
I especially love “dam aged game” thank you for sharing this little poem that packs such a punch!!
Barb,
Bravo. This is brilliant: You have a gift for word play and concision. I see the specific Iowa undertones as well as the national implication in every line. Love it!
Barb,
I feel a chill. The line “make more dead” is especially powerful in its grammar—how death becomes something manufactured, repeated. Such a small poem, such a long shadow.
Sarah
Crazed men for sure!
Angie, I am in awe of what you did with the prose poem. Each anagram is woven so carefully to play with Reynolds’ plot. It felt as if Will had finally found his voice in prose. I will be starting a Logophilia unit soon and we play with anagrams. This prompt gives us one more way to explore. Thank you!
Thoughts –
they linger,
ghost huts harboring words,
and ideas,
hauntings from the past
hot thugs waylaying,
strangling,
the way forward,
robbing the present with past and future
but also,
a reminder that
hush, Gott is with you
Jennifer, the tone you are able to capture in this poem is inspiring. Love your word choices and especially ghost huts and hush, Gott. What a terrific last line!
Jennifer, the complexity of your anagrams is impressive. These “ghost huts harboring words” made me stop and try visualizing the image. I am also drawn to this line “robbing the present with past and future” because I find myself guilty of doing it too. I am with Barb; the final line is a show stopper.
Jennifer, this is masterful and inspiring. “hot thugs waylaying” is a image I will carry with me as I head out to shovel in just a few minutes.
Jennifer,
you capture plot so well in the verse with anagrams – it’s not easy by any means, but you make it look that way with the way your lines and meaning flow.
Hi Jennifer! I’ve never heard of Logophilia, so interesting. And your poem, omgg. I can’t decide which one is the best anagram, they are all brilliant. Once again, you prove you are a master of words. How lucky your students are!
Lovely thoughts! It looks like you had fun with the prompt. You are a master at finding words to set a mood. Beautiful. I’m always thankful your seventh graders have you for a teacher.
Jennifer, your poem is especially meaningful to me this Sunday when our pastor’s sermon encourages us to look around, sit quietly, and recognize the fact. “Hush, Gott is with you!” Thanks for the affirmation that we see what we look for and when we acknowledge the omniscience of our Creator, we are not as distressed by the mess we read about in the news! Bless you for being a blessing to me today.
Jennifer,
I feel first unsettled and then held. The line “hush, Gott is with you” is especially moving because it doesn’t argue with the hauntings—it answers them softly. This feels like a small benediction made of sound especiallyin that last hush.
Angie, thank you for your wonderful poem and for sharing your students’ writing. Your poem and prompt really got me thinking. As a teacher of often reluctant beginning readers and writers for many years, I am keenly aware of the challenges spurred by words like was-saw, post-stop, who-how. Yet, I also see anagrams as funny in stressed-desserts. On this second snowy, stay-home day in a row, I am trying to embrace the forced quiet while remembering the challenge of anagrams for my readers-writers! I call this a “forced-anagram” format!
It is quite quiet,
This morn in the Northeast
Where snow has become norm.
She will decide to
Stop and read a post,
She will dare herself to look out.
Fearing the outlook is
More snow
As the newsroom said,
It’s clear, if she waits,
It will be up to her waist!
Anita, snow days are that extra gift and I so love them! We are having a cold blast here, which might bring a day off but it’s not as fun as snow. I hadn’t thought of how anagrams confuse readers – thank you for calling attention to this challenge in such a clear and clever way.
Wow, Anita, this is brilliant. I love how you created a vivid image of your current situation. Your last line has me laughing, but really that much snow is not good. Stay warm!
Anita, this is a masterfully crafted poem. I like how each anagram, and you’ve used quite a few, carries the motion in the poem. Hope the snow brings you joy and some rest. I wish we had some in Louisiana.
Thank you for your insights Anita and thank you for your anagram packed poem!! They work so well. Love the more snow and newsroom especially!!
Wow, good for you using those anagrams so articulately! I had momentarily forgot how challenging saw-was, etc. were for my beginning readers. Thanks for the reminder and the poem today. Enjoy your force quiet. The first snow day is always welcome, but even two can drag on. (And yours came over a long weekend, ouch!)
Anita,
WOW! Very clever use of anagrams. I’m a bit jealous of your snow because we have only had one decent snowstorm
this winter, and we need more for our mountains. Besides, our snow is typically powder and not the heavy stuff you get on the east coast. Honestly, your poem is the perfect anagram mentor text.
Anita, anticipation lives in the body. I feel that here. The line “Fearing the outlook is / More snow” is especially powerful because it turns the window into a threshold between inner feeling and outer world. The weather becomes a mirror.
Embrace that forced quiet for sure!
What I love about your poem is that I would ot have even noticed the anagrams had you not put them in bold. It’s amazing how the same letters can create such different sounding and different meaning words. You use them so well!
Oh my goodness! You’re a master of anagrams! Moresnow and newsroom – – Ooh, waits and waist, stop/post…..just wow! And what is stunning is how it all flows and makes sense. Enjoy the snow and embrace the slower pace. So many books to read…… 🙂
Angie, thank you for hosting us today! I adore Jason Reynolds’ work, and ALWD stays with me. Your haiku is beautiful and sends a ynicersal
truth! I awoke to swirling snow in the midst of a winter weather system moving through Georgia as I took the dogs out for their morning business, so this is my word for the day to knead like dough for writing.
snow
once upon this now
he won sniffing his own spot
in this cold-sown snow
ynicersal= universal.
It’s so cool to wake up in Georgia snow. The excitement in your poem reflects mine this morning!!
Kim, each anagram is a discovery so much so that I find myself reading again and again to make sure I haven’t missed any. So clever! Michigan Storm Chasers posted last night that Georgia had more counties with weather advisories/watches than Michigan (and that’s saying something). Enjoy the white stuff.
Kim, this is a wonderful example of anagrams fueling early snowy morning writing. It is day two in a row of snow here in NJ and I am not as excited about it today!
Kim, this is such a perfect poem. It sings and shows your world beautifully. Very clever poem. Bravo!
What a word play, Kim! I, too, was reading in hopes I didn’t miss any “s/now–s/own.” I am amazed how easily you may playing with words look like. Everyone is bragging about the snow, and I feel a bit jealous ))
Hi Kim! Your poem makes me want to stand out in that “cold-sown snow” in my underwear for about a minute. 7months pregnant in the Mauritian 90* summer right now. Thank you for writing 🙂
Kim, wow, snow in Georgia isn’t so common, is it? Your dogs must be a little confused! I love “once upon this now” – What a great start of a story happening today. Thanks to anagram thinking on this Sunday morning.
Kim! Such a tender triad. I experience the intimacy of an ordinary winter moment—the way even cold becomes companionship. The line “he won sniffing his own spot” is especially moving because it celebrates a tiny, comic victory that suddenly feels like belonging. The wordplay makes the snow feel alive.
Sarah
These lines are beautiful and they sure look/seem effortless. You capture a moment so well and you weave in the anagrams skillfully.