Kate Currie currently lives in South Carolina where she splits her time between teaching high school English, chairing the English department and working as an Associate Athletic Director. She is a “Love of Teaching” award recipient and has a passion for building inclusive and relevant curriculum, which has included expanding the course offerings at her current school. In the time she is not teaching, she coaches varsity track and football. Read another post by Kate here.
Inspiration
We are living in a world where we often feel inundated with news. The near constant stream of coverage of disease, natural disasters, and other tragedies can often take its toll. Often, the news cycle moves on so quickly that we don’t have sufficient time to process and react. This often leaves us oscillating from numbness to feeling overwhelmed.
Many great works have used real-life events as the catalyst for the creative process.
“O Captain My Captain,” by Walt Whitman is said to be about the death of President Lincoln, and perhaps for even more moving (for me) Dudley Randall’s “Ballad of Birmingham.”
Process
What is something that is going on in the world that you keep thinking about? It can be something local, national or global. Maybe there is something happening in your community that impacts your life, or the life of someone that you care about. If not feel free to explore national or global events.
Start with a list of the facts about the event or topic, then move to exploring your reaction to these facts. What emotions does it elicit from you? How can you best communicate these emotions? Is it through imagery? Is it through dialogue? Explore this as an opportunity for you to “talk” through your emotions that are linked to the current events.
My suggestion is to write at least 2 stanzas. In one of the stanzas, examine the topic or event that is the inspiration or catalyst for the poem. In the second stanza, explore your reaction to the event. Don’t shy away from the emotions that may pop up as you react to the event, as this is a moment to process.
Poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46562/ballad-of-birmingham
Kate’s Poem
Write
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
It has swiftly sailed the seven seas,
This crowned and dastardly disease.
It has colonized both East and West.
And we are forced to be its guest.
It doesn’t bear the mark of man.
Destruction is its only plan.
Though we have come so far, it’s true.
This unseen threat will have its due.
Small things are our only hope,
Like wearing masks and using soap.
Alone each other we defend
This conqueror must meet its end.
Everything is different.
Everything has changed.
The virus is so widespread…a pandemic.
Will life ever be the same?
The news media covers the crisis day in and day out.
National officials, state officials, local officials speak, but
What are they really saying?
We need to be informed, but it all can be too much.
We need to do what’s best, but it all can be overwhelming.
Wear a mask! Don’t wear a mask!
Just wash your hands! No, wear gloves!
Stay inside to flatten the curve.
Go out, but stay 6 feet apart.
Social gatherings of less than ten.
No social gatherings at all.
A worldwide pandemic has changed the way we do life.
Will it ever be the same?
I Asked The LORD
By Donna Russ 4-11-2020
I asked the LORD to touch my son
To turn him back to HIM.
How could I have known that method He’d use
Would be the big “C”
To get the job done.
It’s in these times of chaos and fear
That the LORD decided to touch him.
And though I trust Him in all things
I cry out for Him to hear
Save my son, LORD! Save him for me!
Guide the doctors in their treatments
Help him through this trial.
Help him; YOUR mercies to see!
Help him know that it’s by YOUR grace
That he will be delivered.
Help him to call on YOU and know that
One day he can see YOUR glorious face.
I asked the LORD to touch my son
And HE heard my plea.
HE touched my son, so, intimately.
I praise the LORD for what HE has done.
Oh, Donna, what a story and journey. God bless you and your son. I’m so glad he’s been healed.
Donna, I hear the anguish in this poem as you cry out to be heard. This line was so poignant: Save my son, LORD! Save him for me!
Praising the LORD that he heard your prayer.
National State of Emergency
Things are not the same anymore
Our country is under lock down
It is scary to see so many law enforcement officers
Harassing so many innocent people
But all this is necessary
For a better Belize
Our country has been corrupted
By a virus
Who to trust in times like these?
People walking around all confused
Some still not taking any precautions
What to do when there is nothing to do but wait
Wait for a cure
Wait for hope
Have faith that this season will pass
Wait for things to get back to normal
It is terrifying when we have to fight against other corrosive factors, and not just the virus itself. You’ve done a great job in your poem telling about this conflict. “Wait for a cure / Wait for hope” that’s what we do, and I’m sure writing and reading poetry is helping us do just that. Thank you for sharing, Melissa.
“Our country has been corrupted
By a virus” – This was such an interesting turn on what we think usually corrupts a government. Thank you.
My poem spoke to the confusion you mention in your poem…
“nothing to do but wait”…I think that’s the scary part of it all.
I like the personification you use in the line, “our country has been corrupted by a virus.” I hope things improve in Belize and here too.
Trying times during this pandemic
Going to the store is a fight for your life
You aren’t even sure if you will find what you are looking for
The doubt alone waves off those who won’t risk it
Masks on everyone so all you see are the eyes
They tell a story of fear and uncertainty
it grieves me to see us so vulnerable and scared.
Working is another beats
Not knowing whether you will work or not
Unsure if you can live with what you have
The shadow of bills and other payments looming over
Those workers taking that risk to get paid
Finally the boredom is haunting
Self isolation from the rest of the world
As if being locked in a cage for safety
Acknowledging our own mortality
Hope is the one thing keeping going
Hope that we will be able to link arms with our friends once more
Hope that the fear will finally vanish
Hope that smiles will return to our.
Ryan, poignant truths right there. You’ve covered the big areas for my family and me too–fear of being out and about, work woes, and boredom. There is always hope, though, and I’m so happy your last four lines point that out beautifully. “hope that we will be able to link arms” Yes, indeed! Right now we just link arms virtually, don’t we?
Iowa Caucus 2020
Problems included
failures of an app
designed to report
final vote tallies;
a backlog of phone calls
to the state vote-reporting
Hotline,
confusion about
coin flips
the need to use backup
paper ballots
to verify results;
discrepancies between
backup paper ballots
and tallies by
precinct
captains.
We hung American flag swags
to greet the
Audubon Co.
Precinct #2
Democratic faithful
Feb. 3, 2020;
after six months
of trainings,
phone conferences,
and practice caucuses
(which pie gets your vote?)
We were ready.
We did our part:
we counted,
we caucused,
we delegated,
we proposed–
joyful, participatory
democracy.
So when “Iowa Caucus”
became a punchline,
this
precinct captain
felt
personally
punched.
(Opening stanza is based on Wikipedia’s entry for 2020 Iowa Democratic Caucus)
Allison, you’ve done a great job of making a news story personal. It’s easy to read a headline and turn it into a punchline. You’ve made me want to be a better, more informed reader. Thank you!
Allison, wow! This has a bit of personal meaning to me. I spent 14 years in Iowa as an adult, so I have met people like you, and I know Iowa Nice and Iowa Resilient and Iowa Work-your-butt-off-for-causes. My first time registering as a Democrat was in 2008 because I just wanted to go to a caucus and be counted for Barack Obama. (I was a lifelong independent before that year.)
It was meaningful to be a part of Iowa (and U.S.) history. You continue to be part of history-making in Iowa.
“Democratic faithful…
and practice caucuses
(which pie gets your vote?)
We were ready.”
Yes, you were, and I can see why you felt “personally punched.”
I must say, you are becoming one of my favorite poets!
I went to school in Ft. Dodge with a Mark Krebs…any relation? Thank you for your kind validation of the effort we put in. Honestly, I felt gutted by “our” failure.
I, for one, am not laughing. I was in Des Moines last fall and was impressed by its passion for politics.
Cowboy Family,
Nothing is more important than our safety
Do our part to prevent the COVID-19
OSU moving fully online
for remainder of spring semester
Take care of your health
as we weather unprecedented times
Sincerely, President Burns
I can’t just come back.
I have my life here
I know that madre,
I’m just saying that I can’t drop things here
because when this is all over
my life continues here, for another year
I can’t just temporarily go to the city
Do you think I like being in an apartment alone?
Don’t you think I want to go back?
I can’t
I know you’re just trying to help
I know
No I didn’t do homework today
Because I don’t feel like it madre
I just can’t seem to find the will to do it
I’m trying
It’s just hard is all
Okay bye, I love you too
Naydeen — The plea of this poem is so real. Just to have family understand…or anybody understand… how the way this affects each of us is unique to each one of us. Uncharted waters… Your poem takes me back to a time when I was facing down some rough stuff, and a “friend” offered the phrase “just get over it,” and I thought I’d whack her in the head with a 2×4. Only you know what you can do. Hang in there. Thank you for giving us a glimpse. Susie
Oh, Naydeen, what a lovely use of Kate’s prompt. It’s your own voice writing a similar all-too-familiar story. News of OSU’s closing and the difficult emotions that follow as we learn to cope with it all. Blessings to you. Glad you have your madre at the touch of a button, at least, since you can’t really touch.
Please accept a virtual hug! You remind me how blessed I am having my two sons home from college during this time. Thank you.
This was a real challenge for me, and I am filled with discontent with this result…but, here goes!
This pandemic is blanketed
by a dense fog of
virtual news,
virtually every moment,
must listen, must see, must read,
today’s briefings,
surprise findings,
latest data,
expert opinions,
breaking reports, and,
let’s not forget,
how to.
Yes, how to wash hands,
keep safe distance, and
make a mask.
The news is unceasing,
never-ending,
a blur.
Permeating every tidbit is
race and inequality.
Listen closely, look closely, read closely,
Question it all.
Have you noticed, have you glimpsed,
news about
low-income workers,
on the front-lines,
pushed into poverty,
higher incidence of disease,
Black Americans,
kicked out of Walmart,
minority-owned,
steep hurdles,
removed the inspector general,
no oversight,
expelled 10,00 migrants,
bypass immigration laws,
living on margins,
particularly catastrophic,
and more?
Listen closely, look closely, read closely,
Question it all.
I am so anxious about our world.
I am suspicious about what I don’t know.
I am painfully aware that this administration
is systematically and methodically
hurting others
manipulating laws and procedures
putting up barriers
increasing inequality
growing white supremacy
making it harder to vote
eliminating justice.
This is intentional policy
designed to take advantage of the fog,
to give the perception of helping.
I must adjust my vision,
I must stay alert,
I must seek truth and justice.
Listen closely, look closely, read closely,
Question it all.
Maureen, your poem is amazing. The devastation, injustice, fear, and atrocities are cataloged so well here. One thing that has truly bothered me is how this situation is increasing the divide between those who have the resources to connect to online learning and those who do not. Your honesty is clear throughout the entire poem, and the refrain is such an important message! Kudos to you for capturing such raw emotion and the deeply depressing situation of our current times.
Maureen,
I think your poem captures the frenetic nature of the news and the way even those of us who know how to vet the onslaught of news often question and doubt our own judgments. “dense fog of
virtual news,
virtually every moment,”
is a perfect image. I also love the list of topics and the emphasis on the inequities. Thank you.
—Glenda
You got this! The frantic feel permeates the entire poem! I know so many people who are glued to the media, social or news! It raises blood pressure and anxiety! You did a marvelous job in showing the fear that has grasped the world.
Maureen, you have captured TRUTH here, and this story must continue to be told. “Listen closely, look closely, read closely, Question it all.” What powerful important advice for your readers. I am surprised you are filled with discontent about this–hopefully it’s the Truth that is making you uneasy. If it is the poem that you are not pleased with, please continue to work on it until you are satisfied because it is something others should read. Thank you.
I love today’s prompt, but I just don’t have it in me today. Haiku time about current events!
My shattered heart beats
With anger, fear, bitterness
Missing family
Mo, your haiku captures exactly how I am feeling. The first line is powerful and exact. The emotions in line two are spot on, and the end is perfect for capturing the heart of the matter. I know Easter Sunday is going to be especially difficult for me as I am sure it will be for so many others who are missing their family, but keeping their distance to keep everyone safe.
I hear ya, Mo. Haiku… on target. Hugs coming your way! Susie
Speaks the truth, loud and clear! Hugs.
Mo,
I know what you mean about not having it in you today. Your haiku capture the effect of all the awful news and the emotions we’re all experiencing. “Shattered” is a perfect word here.
—Glenda
Mo, take care of you. Peace.
Thank you for sharing this haiku. I am where you are. I pray your heart can beat with hope and peace in the midst of our circumstances. I truly believe…This too shall pass.
assassinations
I grew up with assassinations
as a first grader I stood in line before the classroom door
waiting for dismissal
it was November, our teacher told us the president
was dead
in my home the news had been announced by my younger brother
running down the hall yelling, “Kennedy’s on”
no more
we spent Saturday without cartoons as my mother rocked our
new brother
years later, one evening
the television screen switched to the news to announce
Martin Luther King, Jr. was dead, I was a fifth grader
old enough to grasp the meaning of the moment
the next day at school when a boy who had once been my boyfriend
said, “My dad laughed when he heard the news”
I froze wondering,
who laughs at murder
a little more than two months later
I woke one morning in June to learn
Bobby Kennedy was dead
five years, three assassinations and
I grew to believe in our country
political figures were assassinated
“I grew to believe in our country/political figures were assassinated” – such a dramatic, devastating ending. Think how this shaped you , all through the years. Makes me wonder what takeaways our children today will have from this pandemic…what conclusions will they make, will they be shaped by all their lives?
Jamie, your poem is amazing. The stanza with what the previous boyfriend’s comments is so disturbing. I also grew up during this time period, but even if you were not, I think the poem’s stark reality is so compelling. I often think to myself, “I can’t believe they are still alive!” Perhaps it is that I have this idea internalized as well. Your end really carries a punch! Well done!
Jamie — Your memories of those moments are similar to my own. The lessons that land on us as children are stark in your poem, hard-hitting. The hardest part was the kid’s dad who “laughed when he heard the news” — dang…we are a messed up country. Your poem makes me wonder about the lessons of the kids who survived Sandy Hook…and I watch the kids in Florida who survived Parkland…oh man… oh man… oh man. You moved me with your poem. Susie
Jamie,
I was just one year behind you, so I remember this time too, with a similar outcome of belief. I remember my kindergarten teacher crying and leading us down the hall to the school library to watch the news of T.V. It’s one of the most vivid memories of my childhood.
The memory of you as a first grader and your younger brother excited when Kennedy came on, says all one needs to know about how most of America thought about the 35th president.
Thank you for this cathartic read today.
CNN reports
seismologists are observing
a lot less ambient seismic noise
as we park our cars, buses, and bodies
as we pause and shut-down our busy-ness
the earth’s upper crust moves less
no longer burdened by our vibrations
The Guardian describes
“emboldened wild animals”
a remarkable and foreign site within the cityscape
as sika deer wander through streets and subway stations in Nara, Japan
as boars romp quietly through the once lively squares in Barcelona, Spain
the natural world reemerges
no longer burdened by our presence
The New York Times details
a new site over Delhi: blue sky
a reduction in pollutants and nitrogen dioxide
as factories and markets close
as transportation and construction halts
the air is suddenly breathable
no longer burdened by our progress
What other seismic shifts will occur in our daily lives and homes?
What else will we see or hear or recognize now that we are still?
What other wonders will we uncover–personal, natural, spiritual–if we just take a moment to notice?
I continue to hope good things will come out of these period of time. Your tone is ominous as you share these details and moments. Today I noticed gas prices were $1.69.
Love the repetition of “no longer burdened by…” Thank you for these more positive facts about the pandemic – I am particularly moved by the wild animals moving within city streets. Wow. “What other wonders will we uncover?”
Betsy, great combing of the news for these interesting tidbits. I love your three questions that end this poem. They are really thought provoking. “now that we are still” “What other wonders will we uncover” I pray we will “take a moment to notice” and come out better on the other side.
I love the way your poem opens with the absence of people/movement, and then moves to the presence of deer and boars, and then the clear sky and clean air. Perfect choices!
We never gave her a break.
Stepped on too many cracks
Constantly breaking her back.
Now she won’t give us one in return.
Leaves are whistling and breaking off in mass.
Dust stirs in the air here,
but is beginning to clear there.
Dark clouds come in and cover the sun.
Red sunrises warn of what is coming soon.
Warm air meets a dangerous cold front.
Hail begins to form above the clouds
Fear begins to form a lump in my throat.
Oklahoma skies and mother nature don’t discriminate.
“Red sky at night sailor’s delight;
Red sky in the morning sailor’s warning”
Lauryl,
the beginning drew me in, WOW! The weather is so unpredictable in Oklahoma and I love how you describe it here! My favorite parts is the last line, you’re right mother nature does not discriminate.
Lauryl, I love the imagery in your poem. The last line really spoke to me.
Lauryl ,
The imagery in this was fantastic I was able to see what you wrote clear as day in my head. I also loved this sense of aww that you gave mother nature I enjoyed the looming presense that you gave her.
Oh, this was nice when I started reading wondering what you were going to say about your mother. Then as the weather gets more ominous, the enormity of the mother is clear. This is very clever: “Stepped on too many cracks / Constantly breaking her back. / Now she won’t give us one in return.”
We better start taking better care. Thank you for this reminder. And stay safe in the storms.
The imagery here is outstanding – whistling leaves, the hail forming above the clouds – a strong sense of impending doom. I love the metaphor of “we never gave her a break…constantly breaking her back” – so true.
The Good News
The Buffalo News is obligated
To put the rapidly increasing numbers
On the front page every day
And the whole A-Section is dedicated
To the paralyzing pandemic
And so forth and so forth
But then we get to the positive spin:
– Parks to explore while practicing social distancing
– Things to do with the kids at home
– Local bands doing Facebook Live shows
– Virtual art tours
– The restaurants offering curbside pickup
– Old 10-star restaurant reviews (Why are they doing this???)
– And a 15 part series on “What ifs” about all of our legendary sports failures
Okay
It keeps us connected as a community
And you gotta stay positive
But I can imagine the editorial staff
Doing a Zoom conference wondering
How much longer this will be the way of the world
At least we all feel good about one thing
One piece of undeniably good news
The only thing Buffalo has had to celebrate in 20 years:
Tom Brady is no longer a Patriot!
At least one communal nightmare is OVER!!!
Surely, this will keep us grounded until the end of the pandemic
And we are gonna party like it’s 1999
Just as long as, you know,
Come September,
Football begins as scheduled.
Your reference to Tom Brady brought a smile to my face, as we live in a time without sports. The first bell that tolled was the closing of the NBA season. Crazy that sports would lead before our government.
You just made me laugh out loud with this “The only thing Buffalo has had to celebrate in 20 years:
Tom Brady is no longer a Patriot!” So funny!
(borrowed lyrics from George Clinton)
“Mother Earth is pregnant for the third time
For y’all have knocked her up”
Pollution decreases as more and more humans stay indoors.
Look! Si, se puede! Mazel tov!
Yet, will our appetite for
consumption, spending, keeping-up-with-the-jones-ing, expanding,
Return with intensity?
Die on the vine?
Evolve into a super-virus?
(Sorry, too soon?)
“I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe
I was not offended”
Fonda keeps drawing virtual crowds on Fridays.
Greta transitions to a virtual strike.
Yet, politicians cling to party pearls virtually deaf
to the vital needs of constituents and their habitat
EPA guidelines slashed.
Hospital beds not shared.
Doctors making decisions humans are not designed to make.
Normalcy–yesterday, today and tomorrow; brought to you by: the dollar!
“For I knew I had to rise above it all
Or drown in my own shit”
I love your use of the pearls in “politicians cling to party pearls.” And you’ve captured the utter sadness of “doctors making decisions humans are not designed to make.” I think we both read the same article (such an important one). That line “normalcy… brought to you by: the dollar!” is well-phrased and placed.
[Note: the news has been so godawful that I just could barely face it today… so instead of being serious, I just decided to be goofy….writing my own goofball news. Kate — I really loved your poem…the news up against the reality of a kid at home. So difficult. Susie]
News From Sooze
This is KSMY-OZ, your Heartland station
bringing you up-to-the-minute ennui.
From the SM Headquarters here on Oak Knoll
we are reporting
general malaise;
traffic is near non-existent —
the sound of a delivery truck
triggers Pavlovian drool
and increased heartrate among the natives;
cases of Covid in the nearby region
continue at alarming rates
despite incoherent blathering
from the White House
about flattening the curve.
The only curve to report
on our Saturday evening roundup
is the bulging mid-region
of enlarged waistbands
and spinal curvatures –
it’s been determined by local authorities
this curving stems from two sources:
1) increased hours on the couch
2) reaching too deeply
into the back of the domestic refrigerated stockpiles.
The outlook for tomorrow remains
the same:
stay put,
mask up,
don’t touch.
We’ll be back at 6:00 with an update
and a look at what you can do
to beat the blahs,
bash the odds
here in Oz.
This is SM signing off.
by Susie Morice©
Thank god for some goofiness! That was fun reading. And, still a testimony to what is going on.
Susie—thanks for the uplift! We needed some well-scripted humor!
Susie this is just what I needed today. For some reason today has been the peak of my frustration and sadness with this whole ordeal. I’m so glad you took this approach.
So fun, Susie! Thank you for that. You have a talent for bringing the humor!
Susie,
I’m consistently in awe at what comes to you when you respond to our prompts. I can hear you saying this with such perfection! Maybe it was the YouTube song that convinced me you were meant for performance arts. I think you should record this poem and share it on your newly established channel.
This was me today, waiting for my delivery and wanting to hug the driver just for being out on the front lines, serving the undeserving souls like me.
“the sound of a delivery truck
triggers Pavlovian drool
and increased heartrate among the natives;”
And of course I laughed because I’m picturing my students when they see their new version of me in the fall. Lord help my bulges and curvatures by then.
“is the bulging mid-region
of enlarged waistbands
and spinal curvatures –“
Add this one to your book! Great piece.
Susie, thank you for the goofiness.
This was so great:
“the sound of a delivery truck
triggers Pavlovian drool
and increased heartrate among the natives”
I can only imagine how it must be to be short of supplies as well as the ennui. We haven’t been short of supplies here yet. Thank you for speaking the truth about the incoherent blathering. I’ve stopped listening to the briefings most of the time. Besides the fact my Internet data is mostly used up, I also can’t handle the display. Nice work.
Thank you, Katie, for the prompt. Sadly, I’m a little overwhelmed by the news these days. When scrolling quickly through the Washington Post this evening, I saw an article, “Basic Human Gestures Are No-Nos”, so I thought I would use that for my newsy prompt. Dr. Fauci recently said we should never shake hands again. So there’s that. We’ll see. What else can take the place of handshakes?
This has been hard for me today. I’ve tried a Blitz, a limerick (and abandoned them) and now I’m trying an Etheree.
No Hand Shakes
Wink
Jazz Hands
Elbow bump
Namaste bow
Elegant curtsy
A Hunger Games salute
High five across two meters
Say hello, goodbye, good morning
Smize–smile with your eyes under your mask
Shoulder, hip or foot shakes — just no handshakes
Denise,
I love the whimsy in the jazz and elbow and cursty! Gosh, the Hunger Game salute. So clever and just the tone I needed today.
Peace,
Sarah
Denise,
I was able to picture all of these gestures in my head and how they are now used in replacement of human touch. I loved your allusion to The Hunger Games because these days it feels like we are also stuck in a dystopian novel. Thanks for sharing.
Denise — I enjoyed the kinesthetics of all our “no hand shakes” — you made this craziness fun, and i really appreciated it today! Loved the “Smize” word — so apt! Fun! I shall abide! Thanks! Susie
Denise, I asked myself the same question when I read about Dr. Fauci’s moratorium on hand-shaking. I’m a hugger….I often place a hand on a back or shoulder of students as a sign of compassion, re-direction, and appreciation… I am a regular high-fiver at school. I wonder how I will greet when this “new normal” becomes a post-“new normal.” Thank you for your levity today! I also think the choice of form–the etheree–is a perfect fit for your exploration of salutations. Thank you for sharing your poem with us!
And I welcome the moments when walking in our neighborhood to stop and talk to a neighbor, while standing on opposite sides of the street. We’ll need to remember these moments.
* I’ve been reading about how domestic violence has increased everywhere and decided to write about it.
Stay inside for my own protection
Stay safe in self-isolation
It’s only been a month
No one talks about it
Because it isn’t easy to admit
It’s only been a month
Quarantine is a prison
It’s a slow demolition
It’s only been a month
It is happening everywhere
Does anyone care?
It’s only been a month
There is no escape
How much more can I tolerate?
It’s only been a month
Quarantine is meant to stop the spread
But it fills me with dread
It’s only been a month
The abuse is an infection
flourishing in this condition
It’s only been a month
How much longer can I endure?
For I see no cure
And it’s only been a month!
Monica,
Thank you for illuminating this issue. I was a social worker before becoming a teacher, and one thing I had to do was work with my clients to develop escape plans. Domestic partners locked cell phones, withheld money, tracked mileage in cars. For some, the drive to school or to the grocery store was the only time their partner let them be out of sight. I can’t imagine the violence happening behind closed doors and what the proximity is causing in these homes…and it’s only been a month.
Peace,
Monica
Monica — Your repetition really heightens the creepiness of this confinement. Being confined with abuse in the scene is the layer of nightmare that really makes this poem important for us to recognize and not let slip through the cracks of this mess. I like that way you laid this out … it comes at us like a percussion…. boom, three lines, boom, three lines, boom… very effective. Thanks, Susie
Monica,
domestic violence isn’t something that I have thought about during this quarantine. I really enjoyed your piece, I like how you kept reiterating that it had only been a month because someone who is getting abused may feel like time is never ending when they are in danger. I hope this all ends soon.
These poems are fantastic! Thank you all so much for taking the time to put words to your emotions. These days, I think we are all drowning in news, so taking the time to process and be mindful is so important. It is a pleasure writing with all of you!
*Sorry to get political, but as for current events, I can’t write about viruses right now. This is the only other news that is on my mind today – and the virus crept its way in anyway.
8/12/2012 – The numbers: 491 cases of voter fraud (both guilty and innocent) from 2000 to 2012 out of 146 million voters.
Numbers matter.
4/6/2020 – The players: United States Supreme Court votes to disallow changes to election rules in Wisconsin. They can’t count absentee ballots postmarked after 4/7/2020 – even during a pandemic.
Decisions matter.
4/7/2020 – The liars: President Donald Trump, “Mail ballots – they cheat, okay? People cheat. There’s a lot of dishonesty going along with mail-in voting.”
Facts matter.
4/10/2020 – The players: Washington Secretary of State, “We’re not seeing the rampant fraud that the president talked about.”
Facts matter.
4/10/2020 – The players: Chief of Staff to Utah’s Lt. Governor, “There is very little evidence of voter fraud within our mail-in system here in Utah.”
Facts matter.
Lies are dangerous. Liars piss me off!
Facts matter.
Right there with you! Numbers. Decisions. Facts. Facts. Facts. Facts. The continual denial of facts. It’s disgusting. You have summed up everything I feel in your writing today. I have to have hope that we will come out of this ok. But I’m not certain we will. And that’s a fact.
“Facts matter” is such a strong refrain, and really seems to ring true in life in general. Thank you for sharing
Shaun,
Barbara Kingsolver once said, “All writing is political.” I find that thought comforting because it supports the way I see the world as rhetoric. That is, no reason to apologize for “getting political.” Yes, “facts matter.” I have often told students we can debate how to interpret facts but not what is fact. “Liars piss me off,” too. Thank you.
—Glenda
Amen, Glenda! Susie
I love that your poem makes me want to interrogate the word “matter.” Funny that a word that fits into the phrases “matter-of-fact” or “all matter is composed of atoms” or “what’s the matter?” could become loaded, but then so has “facts.” I also like your timeline structure, particularly the first line to remind us of context, reality, and, as you said, FACTS!
Amen, Shaun, tell it! I so so so so so so appreciate your returning to the facts and the accuracy of dating the comments and reality…that this country is being boondoggled by a fool manipulating the facts. And why?!?!? “Liars piss me off!” x a zillion! Thank you for the voice of reason! Susie
Liars piss me off, too! I feel your frustration. This poetic rant really captures how important it is for people to pay attention. Really pay attention!
Oh my, you nailed it with this! Excellent laying out of facts and lies. My head spins with the lies of this administration.
It wasn’t arson
China Max
restaurant perished in a fire
a blaze in the night
“just an accident”
they say
He calls it the “Chinese flu”
Again, the racist monster
rears its head
Accidents or attack?
I may never know
I watch my back on walks
That first stanza packs so much so succinctly. And the truth of it mixes my sadness and anger. I can hear the whispering and the cowardice of racism in your placement of “they say” at the first stanza’s end ,making it lesser than, almost as an aside. And your last line. I am so sorry for that.
Painful. Honest. Raw.
I watch my back too! Stay strong sweet friend!
❤️
Emily,
The inclusion “just an accident” echoes through time. It is so heartbreaking. I want to walk down the street with you and watch for you. “The racist monster” is the “He.” I am so sorry our country has enabled so much hate to rear its ugly, diseased head.
—Glenda
I am so saddened that anyone, let alone a leader, would turn a deadly virus into a racist attack. Your poem packs a powerful punch in just two short stanzas.
Emily,
What a gut-wrenching poem. I find your pronoun use powerful. These inanimate objects, or talking heads, no matter how far away physically affect us on such a cellular, individual level.
Thanks for sharing.
Oh, noooooo. My children are Chinese and so far, we haven’t had to deal with what we’ve been hearing about related to covid-19. But, I worry. This poem does indeed pack a punch…a scary one.
Oh, Emily — This just hurts me. I loathe that what has happened here can still weigh down this country. Racist acts… oh geez… I hope not, but this effectively causes horrible harm… I hate that you would ever have to “watch [your] back on walks.” Know that, I care and hear you. Cyber hugs, Susie
Such a poignant poem. I can feel the fear and apprehension of the speaker. Another perfect snapshot of the power of words and irresponsible actions that permeate our lives.
Kate,
I love the prompt. Thanks for the challenge.
I don’t typically rhyme, so I’m not confident in doing so.
The Other Side of Now
The slowdown that came with COVID 19
Was a much-needed respite if you know what I mean.
The cause and the reason–to avoid death and avoid the spike–
were not positive but the outcomes are things that I like.
At home with my family, hanging out and having fun
Instead of in the car and constantly on the run
We play games and play cards and cook meals together
We all go outside to simply enjoy the nice weather.
I’m a teacher so I’m still working and making some money
For those who are not this work stoppage is not funny.
All day, I sit at the table staring hard at a screen
Hoping to still reach each student, each confused, antsy teen.
All around our house are others tapping into to Wifi
Two college students, one high school sophomore and two more teachers do try.
We’re all trying to grab normal, to move forward in school
While trying out every kind of new technological tool.
My husband is the designated shopper because he hates to stay down
Each day he finds a reason to journey out into the town.
We’ve cooked more at home this month than all the previous years
ANd those of us over 21 have tried all sorts of new beers.
Daily schedules are wonky, interaction is low
We try to wear face masks wherever we go.
Sweatpants and no make-up have become quite the norm.
Closer bonds with our families we’ve tried hard to form.
Jigsaw puzzles we’ve worked and games of euchre we’ve played
I know we will look back on the memories we’ve made.
These times have been scary, the sacrifices have been great.
But it will all be worth it, of that one can’t debate.
We’ll flatten the curve, we’ll keep a number from dying
All the while trying to figure out when the politicians are lying.
On the other side, when we’re back to “normal” we’ll see
We were given the chance to become new you’s and new me’s.
What really matters is certain to shift
Back into the chaos, I’m sure many will drift.
But this is our chance after we had no chance but to stop.
To reclaim a life that leaves us feeling on top.
Should we keep going, going and going some more?
Should we keep competing with others, trying to keep score?
Should we sit on the bleachers at ballparks on Sunday?
Should we walk right on by neighbors with nothing to say?
No, we should slow down and live life at our own pace.
We should worry about us and not others to race
We should keep the Sabbath holy and spend time with our clan
We should visit with others, make that our main plan.
Corona forced a slowdown, billions of dollars have been lost
But we can use this as a time to find things that don’t cost.
Find things that do matter, make us smile and feel loved.
To help those around us and praise God up above.
On the other side of this thing, whenever that comes
Don’t go back to normal, don’t return to being bums.
Hold on to the good from this time we’ve lived through
And come out as a much better version of you.
~Susan Ahlbrand
11 April 2020
Susan,
Love the rhyme. Isn’t it great how every day invites us to stretch, take risks, uncover the way we can use text and white space to create verse? These lines…
We’ll flatten the curve, we’ll keep a number from dying
All the while trying to figure out when the politicians are lying.
On the other side, when we’re back to “normal” we’ll see
We were given the chance to become new you’s and new me’s.
You have rhyme and assonance with the “i” — I am feeling the movement of ideas in the rhythm and the “becoming.”
Peace,
Sarah
Susan,
I think the rhyme works perfectly. I love the message of hope and positivity. Your poem made me smile. Thank you!
Good morning Kate,
Thank you for your mentor poem and inspiration this morning. I love the pleading voice of the child to parent. I am certain that dialogue resounds within many a households.
Today, I wrote a Nonet for a 90+ year old writer/friend/colleague who was recently brought home from the hospital after suffering from pneumonia but thankfully it wasn’t COVID19. She’s struggling. She’s a lover of poetry and usually hosts monthly writers’ group meeting on the second Saturday of the month which would’ve been today had she been well. Our group is writing in honor of her today and sending the poems her way.
No one can visit, COVID19. ?
No one can meet for writing, COVID19. ?
A Nonet for Jane Inspired by ADVICE TO MYSELF by Louise Erdrich, using the technique Call of Words to compose my poem.
Prayer for Peace
By Stacey L. Joy, © April 11, 2020
Earth welcomes new forms of life each day
Accept and experience what
Wind blows in through screened windows
Scents of yellow daisies
Dust on coffee cups
Inhale fresh air
Open hands
Pray for
Peace
Stacey, your words are a welcome to the day, to spring, to new life. My windows are open and the sun is shining as I read this. Your writing encapsulates all I feel today. I hope Jane feels as held by open hands as we do from your words. What a beautiful way to welcome her home.
Your poem is a prayer, for your friend and for our world.
Stacey,
Love this lyrical snapshot and always appreciate a nonet! Scents and dust — perfect.
Sarah
A beautiful gift for your friend. I so appreciate open hands, pray for Peace
Stacey — I love the tribute poem for your writing friend. So dear. Your poem actually caused me to slow my breath and calm myself. I hope it does the same for others reading tonight. Reading it aloud three times in a row feels really good. Thank you! Susie
March.
was International Women’s Month,
didn’t you know? A celebration in
drop-down lists, marginalized clips
we revive, revisit here:
Meet Stephanie Moore.
Muscogee Creek Nation
18 in May 2001, Army enlisted
11th of September deployed–
dropped in Bagdad, a combat
medic dodging IEDs, treating
infantry when
a grenade rocked her patrol.
Shrapnel fissures aside Steph
tended to contusions,
bandaged lacerations
for Army brothers and sisters
as she bled.
Meet Stephanie Moore.
Muscogee Creek Nation
Honored now in a picture
hung here: Smithsonian
National Museum of the
American Indian.
10 years of tending to troops’
trauma to body, psyche, soul.
She assuages her pain
in service:
Wounded Warriors mentor,
Autism Oklahoma volunteer,
no doubt
lifting drop-down lists
raising marginalized clips
to serve.
https://kfor.com/remarkable-women/remarkable-women-finalist-meet-stephanie-moore/
Thank you for this Sarah! I read the article and watched the video. There are so many remarkable unsung heroes out there. Thank you for introducing me to a very special woman who deserves recognition, and also for the reminder about International Women’s Month, which fell to the wayside with all the other world events going on.
Sarah,
Dare I say it’s refreshing to read a celebration of Native women. Way to dig in and learn the history of your new home state. Love the repetition of “drop down lists,” so easy to view and miss. It implies a choice. That makes me think about my focus. Thank you for introducing us to these women. I’m happy to
meet them.
—Glenda
I love this poem. It left me proud of all the strong women that I know who are unsung heroes. This moment I think about the moms trying help their kids with school and work from home, the teachers reworking their curriculum, of course all the healthcare workers. So often when there is a crisis or a time of need women step up and answer the call in a very real way.
Brilliant! I adore writing about women everyone should know about. Thank you for introducing me to Ms. Stephanie. What a strong role model!
Thanks, Sarah. This is a lovely tribute!
Sarah, what an awesome job on the local news prompt today. This is so important. It inspires me to pay attention to my local heroes. I loved reading the article about her and seeing how you put it into poetry. “She assuages her pain in service” is a great description Wounded Warrior who is helping others heal.
He’s only Human
New Brief # ?
Daily Updates
Reporters asking
Unanswerable questions
No one has the answers
Yet they keep pushing
Berating
Standing stoic
Trying to remain calm
Wanting it to end
Hoping it will end
Giving a hopeful date it will end
That’s all they needed
The sound bite they were looking for
To ridicule
Mock
Put you down
Tear you apart
The “selling” point that turns words into news
Can’t everyone see
This is the problem with society?
They say it starts with the President
I say it starts with the Ignorant
He’s just a man
A human
Trying to stay calm in these
Unprecedented times
Who made us the judge?
I thought that was supposed to be reserved
For the One above
Judy,
Kate’s form suggestion today is moving us toward commentary and argument in our verse, and this is yet another reason poetry belongs in classrooms. We are synthesizing, observing, interpreting, and, indeed, taking a position. Love this line where I see you “standing up ” : “I say it starts with the Ignorant’
So powerful.
Sarah
Thanks, Sarah, I’m not necessarily a Trump “supporter” but I believe that we are all human and all make mistakes. I really felt a tinge of sadness for our society that is so quick to point the finger of blame and demand answers and quick fixes. There are no answers and quick fixes, and we are all doing the best we can to fight this invisible enemy. I always try to look at things from the “other” perspective and can’t imagine what it would be like to have all this weight on my shoulders as a leader of our country during this horrible time. How would I respond? What would I do? I believe there is a reason for everything that happens, and that is a higher power which we sometimes do not understand. Thank you for your kind words.
Judy,
Thanks for offering grace to this situation. I can’t imagine anyone having to navigate this situation. We are indeed in unprecedented times. Saying extra prayers we can get through this and be better on the other side.
Pomp and Circumstance
awkward gowns
colored tassels
(right to left? or left to right?)
thousands of students
a stuffy auditorium
long speeches
an even longer list of names
stock full of mispronunciations
families cheering
cameras snapping
celebrations
accomplishment
covid-19
emailed cancellations
mailed diplomas
social media recognition
borrowed gowns
homemade masks
pictures 6 feet apart
no groups bigger than 10
passive transition
abrupt ending
anticlimactic
now what
Rachel,
Hi. OMG this hurts so much and so many! Well done. The beauty and celebration radiates in stanza 1. The sad realities and distance pull on heart strings in stanza 2. The ending “abrupt ending/anticlimactic/now what” speaks to the world that had to suddenly come to a halt.
Really good poem. Thank you.
Rachel, thank you for sharing your writing. I am in love with your first stanza. The simple lines paint the most celebratory image and brings me back to my graduations. There is something about the mispronunciations that really bring it home for me. It’s even more amazing positioned next to the disappointment in the second part.
Rachel, this poem really hit me in the gut. I keep getting messages from my students who are making their college choices. Normally, in class they get to announce their post high school plan and we give each student a round of applause. Instead I am sending them clapping hands emojis and gifs and congratulating them while sitting behind a screen. Thank you for the poem
Rachel, I am drawn to your use of form and how the two stanzas speak to each other. The first one of series of traditions and cliches, how we USED to mark a rite of passage. The stark contrast of the second stanza brings into focus the disruption of the current situation. Your last line–now what–resonates with all of us, not just the graduates in your poem. Thank you for sharing your piece with us!
The Essential Illegal
Illegal farm workers deemed
Essential in the good ol’ USA
Because we don’t care about
You unless we are in a crisis
When will you wake up and realise
At this point we don’t even care
If you feel used like a bloody bandaid
That’s exactly how you should feel
Maybe then you’ll leave
(but only after this is over)
For now, we will “let” you stay
Because we need food
Here’s a letter written full of pride
Hopefully hiding our fragility
Because we all know if you
Leave now, our kind may die.
So say thank you and get to work…illegal.
It’s essential at this time.
And you will keep working
In dangerous conditions
With loyalty in your hearts
With joy that you can stay
With gratitude of another day of pay
You will harvest the berries that people
Who don’t approve of you will eat
But slightly approve of at the moment.
And maybe in this essential addition
Placed next to illegal
We will recognize the oxymoron
Maybe it will hurt like a punch to the brain
Hopefully we feel when all this is over
that you deserve to be here.
Maybe your “illegal” will be washed away
Maybe the irony will cut deep
and the powers that be,
those who are the opposite of you
So legal and inessential sometimes
Will see that you worked during a crisis
in a home that wasn’t “legally” yours but a
place that in all other terms is your home
Because you helped keep it alive.
Maybe you will receive a letter that says:
Essential Farm Workers Deemed Citizens of the good ol’ USA
This is so powerful and true! What a raw and honest look at our “essential” farm workers. Loved the lines “Maybe your illegal will be washed away” and the constant ironic reference to illegal and legal. Your poem and this time is another way that we can look at a possible purpose for this time… to just see each other as humans and people that are truly interconnected, and that we need each other no matter where we are from.
I actually said “say it again for the people in the back” when I finished your poem. This is so powerful. Thank you so much for sharing this!
Angie,
I am so moved by your verse today. The lines where I hovered, pondered, slowed especially was here:
And maybe in this essential addition
Placed next to illegal
We will recognize the oxymoron
It is a paradox, right? The irony, right? So essential and yet…
Thank you,
Sarah
Wow! It is sad that this is so true. You’ve shed light on our hypocrisy. Your lines –“Maybe your “illegal” will be washed away” –so poignant.
Thank you, Kate. I enjoyed your poem as a press release. It let me to twitter where I saw a link to AP’s top photographs of the week. Is there any other news besides pandemic? Yikes. The emotion of your poem…wanting to come home, being scared made me want to find another emotional vehicle for mine.
I’m pretty sure the formatting will get messed up in my copy/paste. So, I”m using an underscore to space every other line as I intend.
Beatitudes for these Days
Blessed are
the mask, gown and glove makers
_____for they shall receive protection.
our delivery people
_____as they thirst for safe distance all shift
our hair-netted lunch ladies
_____they shall be filled with gratitude and joy
healthcare workers
_____for they speak God’s dialect at each bed
the journalists
_____they are called to truth in their reports
our civic teacher governors
_____for planting clemency in our social contract
the mass transit drivers, pilots and conductors
_____theirs is the kingdom of heaven between stops
the first responders
_____they shall bring mercy to each new address
© Linda Mitchell#Verselove 4/11
I love your format for this poem!! What a beautiful recognition to all those “essential workers” who, I’m sure, want to come home. The line that stands out most to me: “healthcare workers / for they speak God’s dialect at each bed.”
LInda, this is marvelous! Love the underscoring to give us your intended format. PERFECT. I so appreciate those you’re honoring in your Beatitudes for these Days. Truly they are blessed and we receive their blessings from their dedicated service.
I especially loved:
“our hair-netted lunch ladies”
“speak God’s dialect at each bed”
“they shall bring mercy to each new address”
Such a loving tribute to all who risk their lives daily.
Thank you. Made my ❤️happier.
Loved the structure and well-thought out words you chose for each line that represents each of our essential workers. Loved the religious reference during these last few holy days of Easter. The first line is so powerful since I have a few friends sewing masks all day and hope that they receive protection. Loved, “The mass transit drivers, pilots and conductors – theirs is the kingdom of heaven between stops.” Thank you for your creativity and beautiful message this morning.
Linda,
How lovely and appropriate to envision the beatitudes yo fit the 2020 pandemic. Bless you for this positive, gracious poem.
—Glenda
The turn on the Beatitudes for this pandemic time is inspiring. There are so many people to be grateful for.
“Teaching Without Schools: Grief, Then A ‘Free-For-All’ NPR
They thought they’d have more time, teachers say. Many couldn’t even say goodbye.”
We’ll see you next week, we said.
Don’t worry, we said.
It’s only for a couple of weeks, we said.
Enjoy the break, we said.
See you soon, we said.
We were wrong.
Our students.
Our friends.
Our families.
What if the last time we saw them
Touched them
Hugged them
Was the last time?
Did we do it right?
Was it enough?
Did they hear me?
Do they know I love them?
Did I even say goodbye?
Next time, I promise to pay more attention.
You never know when the next last time will come.
Gayle, this hits hard. I really didn’t think anything of it. And I teach internationally and we were going on spring break and I was focused on a trip with my dad that was most likely going to be cancelled – I literally didn’t say a real goodbye to some of my students, some who will go to school in a different country next year. I have to count my blessings because my students are well equipped with technology and access to internet so I will “see” them but I might cry at some point during one of our virtual meetings knowing I will never be able to hug some again. I know some teachers don’t even know when they will see their students even virtually again. Thank you for especially the last two lines of wisdom.
Gayle,
First, I want to just say how happy I am to see you and get to know you in this way. You were so generous to host a day and continue to be here to write and support other teacher-writers.
This poem shows the power of rhetorical questions in writing. You don’t have to have answers as a writer, but the asking implies there is one or could be many. You bring readers to ponder these deep questions:
Did we do it right?
Was it enough?
Did they hear me?
Do they know I love them?
Did I even say goodbye?
Many thanks,
Sarah
“Next time, I promise to pay more attention. / You never know when the next last time will come.” So good. They cancelled school over a weekend here, so I said a normal goodbye to my students on Friday thinking I would see them again on Monday. I keep thinking over a discipline issue I had with a few boys that Friday, how my last words to them were sending them down to the office . . . It’s all so strange. And I love how you broadened it out too, not just students, but our friends and families. Oh I hope this ends soon! Thank you!!
Gayle, thank you so much for writing this piece for us today. I was brought to tears by the end of it and I definitely have made the same silent promises. I wonder what our students are thinking and feeling right now. I wish I could be there for them.
Gayle,
I think about “What if the last time…was the last time” often and have since my father’s death when I was 16. Maybe this moment will stick, at least for a while, as a reminder that time is temporal, and we must make the most of these moments. Thank you.
—Glenda
“Did I even say goodbye?” is a question that has been constantly on my mind too. I have started writing letters to all of my seniors because I want to make sure they know that this is only goodbye for now. Thank you for sharing.
“Hello Pandemic”
Covid-19
Global Pandemic
Fear of the unknown
Haunts our minds
Yet some seem unscathed
Think it’s all a hoax
Is this real? Will it “all go away”?
I will be prepared.
I’ll go with my gut.
THIS JUST IN: National State of Emergency
Thank God I followed my gut
Never trust the ignorant.
Everything’s different, yet
The mind persists,
Still fearing.
The Anxieties of February well within reach,
While Nightmares of March introduce themselves
To the Succubus of April,
occupying the empty desk
At the front of my virtual classroom
I snicker at the vision,
But I’m not even sleeping.
-Jenny Sykes
The Anxieties of February well within reach,
While Nightmares of March introduce themselves
To the Succubus of April,
You have encapsulated the last three months here.—and the empty desk.
Strong imagery. Thank you.
Your use of the months here is so interesting – Anxieties of February, Nightmares of March, the Succubus of April. It reminds me of the power in the Ides of March. And then the end – “but I’m not even sleeping.” really shows the horror we are living.
I liked the way that you formatted the poem to be in the style of a news report it got my attention and wanted to keep on reading the rest of the piece, and summing up the reactions of many others with few words
Kate, what an emotional prompt today – – it will ignite all kinds of response. Your reactions to COVID are so heartfelt. There are definite groups that feel its effects the most – – seniors in high school, seniors in college, seniors in the grand scheme of life as the elderly. What I like so much about this is that it’s a daily occurrence – every. single. time I turn on the news, I’m muttering something under my breath. I’m glad to get my feelings out today……the mildly festering ones, anyway.
Thank you! I find myself muttering under my breath at the news constantly too. I am not sure what I am hoping to hear at this point, if I am being honest.
“Simultaneous Concurrent Action”
Bodies
belonging to no one:
Unclaimed
Anonymous
Alien lifeless forms
Abandoned
Left like
Refuse stacked
Awaiting burial in
Mass graves on
Hart Island
Interred by
Hazmat suit clad diggers.
Meanwhile
Covid-19 infected
Nurses
First Responders
Tend the infirm,
Themselves gravely
Ill, infected
Unable to procure
PPE through
Flatlined supply chains
Unlinked, broken, disconnected
Vital skills more
Requisite than
Vital signs
—Glenda Funk
Glenda, those mass graves and unclaimed bodies break my heart. I think of the families out there who don’t know their loved one has been buried. Gut-wrenching. But your last lines pack a different punch:
Flatlined supply chains
Unlinked, broken, disconnected
Vital skills more
Requisite than
Vital signs
Those uses of flatlined….vital skills/vital signs are used so effectively here to help us see the fight on the front end – – the one before the graves. I love the ordering from the dead to the living still trying to fight. This order gives hope.
Glenda, I appreciate your precise language that points to vital signs. And, there are no wasted words here. Every single word is related to the monitoring of life right now. Thank you for this poem. I want to use it as a mentor text.
Glenda—you have caught my horror at the vision of those mass graves and put it into words so beautifully. Everything feels broken, doesn’t it?
Whoa, Glenda! That first line, “Bodies/belonging to no one:” take me right into this corporeal being with the morbid language of “interred” and “infected” and “flatline” but then you move us to “vital signs” and while dangerous and ominous from line to line, you take care of your reader with some hope — that is how I choose to read it!
Hugs,
Sarah
I watched the video of these burials yesterday, potter’s graves, and it affected me profoundly. A hard way to start the day. And I know it threw me off. “Left like refuse stacked,” “vital skills more requisite than vital signs.” Oh, the strength of those words!
Glenda, the opening image in this poem is so striking. I saw a report about this today, and I was horrified. You capture that horror so well. I really like how your poem moves, its structure, and the precise word choice that creates the tension and terror of this reality.
The Guardian reports:
“Cancelling student debt
was always
the right thing to do.
Now it’s imperative,”
says Astra Taylor
I signed the petition.
A dear friend is months
in default.
Her student loan payment
doesn’t feed her three kids
and unemployed husband.
Don’t postpone.
Cancel.
Is there a pulse, Donnie?
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/apr/07/cancel-student-debt-coronavirus
Kim,
Yes, cancel student debt. Maybe something good can come from this virus crisis. It certainly forces student debt, UBI, and other issues into the forefront of our minds. Thank you.
—Glenda
Well said and well questioned. I cannot bring myself to type any more than, “djt” when referring to donnie. Lower case, lower class, idiot.
Oh, my gosh, Kim! The bolded word “cancel” is such powerful text element. But that period afterward lingers for me. And, wow — that last line. The rhetorical question is just perfect with just a few drops of sarcasm in the final letters “ie”!
Kim, thank you for sharing this with us today! The ending of your poem brought a smirk and then smile to my face.
Amen, Kim — Folks are facing horrible times…and they almost dissolve into the muck that is rolling over them. You have lifted this friend and us in your poem. Terrific! Killa last line! Thank you! Susie
BESE recommends the governor
close schools for the remainder
of the year.
I’ve lost my grip,
my handle on the kids I teach (taught).
Fewer
and fewer
check in each day.
I grieve lost time,
time we will never overcome,
time that disappears
like a mist you cannot touch
floating over the river bank
dissolving into air.
Margaret,
That final image breaks my heart: “time that disappears / like a mist you cannot touch.” Hauntingly beautiful. Thank you.
—Glenda
Margaret, I feel for our students – – and all teachers. Your first line: I’ve lost my grip. That says it all. This was a ripped grip. I thank the good Lord that we got 3/4 of the year finished. Two silver linings: It didn’t happen right before Christmas, and we don’t have to undergo testing this year. But those kids who aren’t reading, who may be in high-stress homes with unemployed parents and bare shelves – – those are heartbreaking thoughts.
I appreciate the emotion in this…the loss of connection. I’m not sure before this crisis much thought was put into the degree that we teachers depend on the relationships we have with our students. This poem brings that out.
Time that disappears like a mist you cannot touch… One of my students emailed me that she hopes we get back because she just wants me to teach her again before she goes to high school..
we haven’t closed for the year yet, but I am afraid that hope is dissolving into thin air.
Margaret,
I just think it is so cool how, after 11 days of writing poetry, we start to use or we are more aware of how we already use punctuation to shape meaning. It is not about correct or incorrect grammar but using the tools to shape meaning. The “teach (taught)” is so perfect. That line is the “argument” of the poem but you make it lyrical with the “mist you can’t touch” ! Wow, gorgeous and heart breaking.
Sarah
“I grieve lost time” too. Time that we spend with our students is such a precious gift and I am missing it so much. It may be exhausting at times, but it is truly a gift. Thank you for sharing.
Resting Place
The space between
death
and
life
rests on pause.
We hold our breath,
social distance ourselves,
from what is to come.
Death first
Rise second
The space between
what we are
and what we want,
between what do you need
and what can you give
rests within us.
We hold our world,
social gather ourselves,
for what is to come.
Your opening stanza makes me hold my breath. We are stuck in this space between. Our world is on the brink of a huge paradigm shift.
Jennifer, that first line: The space between death and life rests on pause…..and The space between what we are and what we want….rests within us. The blips on the dash between the year of birth and the year of death – – just thinking about that dash and the pauses and the the spaces – – those are inspiring thoughts today as we prepare for all-new Easter celebrations tomorrow. Beautiful penning today!
Jennifer, I love the peace and hope that is present in your poem. Yes, life seems to be on pause…we don’t know what will happen, and it is damn scary. I absolutely love the shift between “Death first” and “Rise second.” I also love the lines: “We hold our world/social gather ourselves/for what is to come.” This strengthens the vision of hope, while still holding onto that piece of the unknown. It is such a great place to stop and ponder our new normal…accept the motion of moving beyond. Thanks so much for this!
Jennifer—we are most certainly on pause. The space between what we are and what we want… As teachers, we do not “pause” well, do we?
I like the way you have contrasts in your poem (death, life / are, want / need, give) Very simple and powerful. and I love the line “social gather ourselves” because that’s all that is possible at the moment. Well done.
Jennifer,
I have so loved “seeing” you in this space every day and deeply appreciate how you bring me into your words, inviting me to linger in ideas and reflect on my being — thank you.
I love these lines:
The space between
what we are
and what we want,
I feel like I am always there, and sometimes this rests but sometimes this agitates.
Peace,
Sarah
Jennifer
I enjoyed the way that you gave social distancing another more omminous meaning behind it. By reading your poem others who don’t grasp the situation at hand can finally realize how imporntant it is for us to social distant ourselves during these times