Today’s inspiration comes from Glenda Funk. Glenda is an NBCT with an MA in English literature. She taught English and speech 38 years and worked as an adjunct instructor for Idaho State University and the College of Southern Idaho before retiring in August 2019. As part of the NEA Better Lesson Master Teacher Project, Glenda developed a full-year curriculum for teaching seniors, which is free on the Better Lesson website. Glenda blogs at https://evolvingenglishteacher.blogspot.com/?m=1
Inspiration
One of my favorite poems to teach is “An Echo Sonnet: To An Empty Page” by Robert Pack. (Scroll to page 2 for the complete poem.) The poem appeared on the 2011 AP Lit and Comp exam in the free-response section, tasking students with analyzing the poem. Pack’s poem combines two forms: sonnet and echo. The echo offers a response to the questions the speaker poses. As with a typical sonnet, Pack’s poem contains 14 lines, but each line has a one-word “echo.”
A definition of Echo in Thanku: Poems of Gratitude reads: In an echo poem the last word or syllable of a line is echoed underneath to form a rhyming line. Thanku: Poems of Gratitude includes an Echo poem called “Atta-Dude” by Sarvinder Naberhaus. It’s a fun children’s poem.
It begins:
The poem continues in this way but offers a twist at the end, which you can probably guess based on the title! Try sharing an Echo poem with students as a choral reading with one person reading the primary lines/questions and the remaining students reading the echoes. It’s a fun way to get all reading poetry in a safe environment.
Today, compose an Echo poem. It can be any length, but if you’re feeling inspired and ambitious, try making your Echo poem a sonnet!
Process
- Choose a subject for your Echo. Again, find inspiration in teaching, family, the season, etc. You may find inspiration in a struggle so the echo offers a way of dealing with a struggle.
- Use the Rhyme Zone website to find rhyming words when or if you get stuck. I think it’s easier to write the main lines and then fill in the echos.
- If you choose to write a sonnet, release yourself from the constraints of quatrains and meter and focus on composing 14 lines that contribute to the poem as a whole illuminating an idea.
Mentor poem by Glenda
“Echos to My Aging Body” Tipping the scale a little to the right? Fright! Full of turkey and stuffing? Puffing Devouring too much pie and fudge? Grudge Parties and buffets slow you down? Frown Last year’s dress doesn’t fit? Slit Leggings the only clothing option? Caution Need to lie on the bed to zip? Slip Harder to lose and easier to gain? Pain Planning a New Year Resolution? Solution Looking toward the latest fad? Glad Can fasting offer an answer? Chancer Ready to try doing less? Bless Why treat yourself so hard? Scarred Love yourself to love others more. Score! ©Glenda Funk
Post your writing any time today. If the prompt does not work for you today, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Below are some suggestions for commenting with care. Oh, and a note about edits: The comment feature of this blog (and many blogs) does not permit edits. Since we are writing in short bursts, we all are understanding (and even welcome) the typos that remind us we are human.
Sorry to have skipped this day–I never had the brain space to even begin! Onward . . .
Good evening, teacher-writers! Are any of you yearbook advisers? If so, did you, as I, face a deadline tonight? (We made it!) I am tired and it is late, but I am determined to meet this monthly challenge. To do so, I am pulling a sonnet I wrote in May of 2018 and adding the echo lines. Is this cheating? Let’s call it creative problem-solving. Love to you all.
The original poem:
Sonnet (May 2018)
Where once I held my children to my breast
For comfort warmth and sustenance triune
A holy shrine of feeling all things blessed,
Is now a scar, a silver crescent moon.
I trace the groove and wonder at its feel:
Me not me gone yet here yet gone my flesh
sensation blurred with numbness now surreal
A frozen lunarscape of emptiness.
A mother’s font of love of all things warm
Replaced by milky moonbeam memory
A pilgrim’s path now etched across my form
Celestial, connecting me to me.
This absence still a presence, still a part
The new moon rests a whisper on my heart.
Echo Sonnet:
Where once I held my children to my breast
unstressed
For comfort warmth and sustenance triune
commune
A holy shrine of feeling all things blessed,
now rest
Is now a scar, a silver crescent moon
too soon.
I trace the groove and wonder at its feel:
surreal
Me not me gone yet here yet gone my flesh
not death
sensation blurred with numbness now surreal
I kneel
A frozen lunarscape of emptiness
express
A mother’s font of love of all things warm
a home
Replaced by milky moonbeam memory
I see
A pilgrim’s path now etched across my form
still warm
Celestial, connecting me to me.
set free
This absence still a presence, still a part
my heart
The new moon rests a whisper on my heart.
my heart
Wow, Allison! Your celestial wordplay here is amazing. Can I say that I really admire you were able to pull out a previous poem and reimagine it?! I too, felt the determination of writing this evening after a long day. And thanks for making me look up “triune.” You can bet I’ll be using that word soon!
Thank you, Mo! I’m not sure I could sustain this (wonderful, creative) challenge on a daily basis, but isn’t it fun to come together for five days each month?! I feel like I know so many in this writing community on a personal level! I always love your poems. I’m glad you (and I!) found a way to push through the pressures of the day to be here.
Allison, This is sublime. No, adding the echos is not cheating. My favorite parts are “ Me not me gone yet here yet gone my flesh / not death” because it expresses a paradox, this sense of loss that’s not loss, and “ This absence still a presence, still a part / my heart.” A mother truly is a “pilgrim’s path” for our children. I feel the love and pain of motherhood w/ you. Thank you for sharing such tenderness and vulnerability w/ us.
Allison – Your presence here on this poetic journey is such a gift for me. I woke up tonight with such a connected intent, wanting only to read the poems of my friends here, and I landed immediately on your poems. The grace of your poems belie the hard work and slice of your life that lies here. These poems are utterly beautiful as they “whisper…your heart.” The scars that narrate such “a holy shrine of feeling” genuinely bring right to the surface what a remarkable person you are, what a “surreal” gift you bring to each of us, and I feel so lucky to have connected to you here on this totally unexpected journey. You are amazing, and I am inspired by your artistry. Thank you for hanging in there on such a long day of dedicated effort. Please know that I appreciate not only the gift of your poetry, but also the person you have so vulnerably shared over these many months. Love, Susie
(Not feeling quite finished with this poem, but it’s getting late and I have to go bug my son about studying for his Physics final… which is the inspiration for this poem!)
Junior Year
AP Calc and Physics, you agreed without complaint
Saint!
You’re creative, talented and smart.
Big heart.
But homework not turned in…
Sin!
Effort stands in the way.
“A”
Video games and YouTube distraction.
Dissatisfaction.
Week-long ban will do the trick.
Slick!
High expectations are what we need.
Heed!
Hard work pays off, they say.
Not play.
Finals week has just arrived.
Survived!
Julie, your poem made me smile as I remembered my boys’ high school years. My guys were so smart, but homework? Whatevs! The good news is that they grow up, usually into such amazing adults that we may not even be able to envision. I have a computer engineer, a pilot, and a translator. But more importantly, they are good people. Your poem reminds me that high school can be hard on all of us!
I love this, Mo. My boys are currently a possum trapper (in New Zealand this is a real job), a ski rescue EMT, and a nomadic. They all read voraciously, provide engaging conversation, write poetry occasionally, and are forces for good in the world. I am coming to terms with having raised wonderful, unusual sons (and daughters…another story).
Oh, Julie, as a mother of six (my youngest–twins–now 25), I can relate to your poem so well. I want(ed, still want) my children to use their abilities, to stretch themselves, to maximize their gifts. That said, children are such complicated…BEINGS. Love to you for your poem, and to your son for being himself. 🙂
Julie, I love the intro to this echo poem. The struggle is real when it comes to getting teens to do homework. My favorite part is “ You’re creative, talented and smart. / Big heart” because it emphasizes what’s most important in the echo.
Julie — That your poem is an echo is a perfect notion. That sense that a mother’s wish for a son’s success is an echo carries that reverberating wish that a child hears for much of his life. It shapes him in a way he doesn’t really realize in many cases. Parenting is so difficult when we want so much for kids, and we see all their gifts (talented and smart/big heart) teeming at even our quickest glance. This is, for sure, a poem to share with your son at the right moment… a loving gift. Thank you for sharing your family here. Susie
“OMG! How can you do it all?”
Bawl!
Work, home, family, play, read, write, think
Sink!
My stress level climbing is real
Deal!
Things are crazy, time to make a choice
Voice!
What’s important? What matters most?
Coast!
Time to take a break and treat myself
Self!
Life’s changing rhythms sometimes throw curves
Nerves!
Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride
Worldwide!
Your poem is so relatable. This is how I feel right now/tomorrow/every day: “Work, home, family, play, read, write, think
Sink!” Thank you for reminding me that I’m not alone, and that what I really need to focus on is “Time to take a break and treat myself
Self!” Especially this time of year, we must remind ourselves and each other to be gentle to our own wonderful selves.
I love being in the presence of people whose daily must-dos include reading and writing! <3
Mo,
That first and second line describes exactly how I cope w/ stress: I cry. Love the questions about what matters most and the decision to “enjoy the ride.” Love the internal conversation about how to deal w/ life.
Mo,
I’m sure your poem will resonate with just about everyone in this group of teacher writers as well as women “worldwide”. It certainly made me feel less alone to know someone else has a bit of stress at this time of year! I’m going to heed your advice, though and try to “Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride”.
Mo, your poem takes advantage of the echo form to answer (shout!) responses to your pressures. I love it! Does this last line mean you’re heading out? I hope so! My favorite echo was “myself…SELF”!
Mo – I am betting that most of the poets here are walking right in your shoes. Teaching and carrying the life burdens is not for the faint of heart. Each of your echoes here is a terrific punch of wordplay and dead-on reality. The “voice” is loud and clear, and I am grateful you shared it tonight…amid all the “crazy” stuff that is piled on your to-do list. What a woman! Susie
My inspiration for my echo sonnet today was founded on a struggle I’m currently experiencing.
Do you feel like what you learned In college didn’t teach you all of this?
Hiss—
Feeling the strain of developing a plan?
Man…
Sinking in information?
Aggravation!
Wondering how all the pieces actually fit?
A’Bit
Having dreams about the school?
Uncool
Has the edTPA scared you away?
Nay!!
Is your brain being pulled in a thousand different ways?
Frays
Are you wondering how to incorporate differentiation?
Frustration!
Are you asking where’s the justice when it comes to class size?
Sighs…
Are you scared out of your wits?
Spits!!
Do you think it makes easier to have all this worry?
Blurry
Do you remember why you decided to teach?
Outreach
Do you remember that words can tear down walls?
Yes, she recalls
Can you use the care you have for kids to overcome the fear?
Persevere
Nora,
Even though my first year teaching was in 1981, I remember these feelings of inadequacy well. I’m so glad your poem ends on a hopeful note! “Can you use the care you have for kids to overcome the fear? / Persevere” This is what teachers cling to every day. Love your echo poem.
Nora, your poem perfectly captures how many of my colleagues and I are feeling this year. I’ve been teaching for a long time, but this year somehow feels different. You’ve mentioned so many of the external factors that have a big influence on our day-to-day practice. I love how you’ve ended by reminding us why we do what we do. Thank you!
Bless you, Nora. “Hiss, man, aggravation…” Your echo lines comprise their own poem. I’ve been teaching more than 20 years, and I still think almost daily about T.S. Eliot’s words “Teach us to care and not to care.” Such a balance.
Nora, first-year teacher or career teacher, we all experience some of the same frustrations (class size, lack of justice at times, etc.). However, you’ll learn to channel all of that back to your teaching and can make it work for you! You’ll figure out the puzzle of differentiation and find ways to reach out despite the circumstances that seem overwhelming at times. Definitely, though, “persevere”!
Glenda, my favorite line: “Planning a New Year’s Resolution? Solution.” We’ve been there! And the rhyme just made me smile. But the ending “love yourself to love others more” is a great reminder to be kind to yourself. Thanks for sharing this!
So I had the idea I might create a few poems as a gift for my dad – so you will see a repeat of my dad as the topic. I have written this in between classes – so hopefully it makes sense.
Dad’s Time
The relativity of time is a funny thing
-takes wing
Youth meanders, wanders, and plays
-never stays
A bud pushing through snow into the spring
-on wing
Knowing eternity stretches across the days
-innocent delays
Five years old, I skip three times to his one stride
-happy glide
First day of school, Holding tight to his hand
-feels grand
Ten years old, I sit in the high school bleacher
-curious creature
He moonlights keeping stats for the team playing ball
-no windfall
“Don’t ever do that,” he says, always the teacher
-double feature
As he points to the player having a tantrum about a call
-court brawl
Sixteen years old, he meets my date at the door for vetting
-no petting
Drops his bass voice even lower and questions his intention
-some prevention
Twenty-one years old, he toasts me at my wedding
-eyes wetting
He had made my fiancé nervous when he’d gone to get “permission”
–first audition
Now I am 52, when I visit I hold his hand, grateful for all he has done
-the race run
Unsure how time got away, and knowing it is almost gone.
-setting sun
Debbie, this verse “Youth meanders, wanders, and plays -never stays” speaks to me, both as a mom of young(ish) children and a daughter of a father who is not getting any younger. My dad is not “old” whatever that means, but has faced some frustrating health concerns this year. Having already lost my mom, I don’t look forward to what will eventually arrive “knowing it is almost gone. -setting sun.”
This is lovely—a tribute to your son, presented through the years. Sounds like you both are pretty lucky!
And I just reread this, and realized that I missed some critical information! I meant to say your father! (Now I know how my students feel when I put those great big question marks next to something illogical in their response!)
Debbie, what a sweet way to honor your father. I love that you track his involvement and investment into who you turned out to be over the years. The love and care is so evident, and I know he will be so pleased to see your fine tribute to him! There’s no better gift for the dad who already has all the socks and ties he will ever need. This is priceless.
Debbie, This is a beautiful tribute to your father. “The race run…setting sun.” I love the life cycle here. I also love the growth metaphor: “A bud pushing through the snow into the spring.” Are you planning to frame this and add photos? It will be such a special gift. ❤️
Debbie,
Thank you for introducing us to your dad and sharing these lines of your life alongside him. I also love learning about you as you keep the sun from setting in the words of this verse. We all bear witness to your relationship in this one poem, and it is a privilege.
Sarah
This is love! I think your Dad will really enjoy this gift. I love the first audition of the fiancee…I’m the same age and feel like I parallel so much of this. Wonderful poem.
Hi, I’m new here, and pretty new to writing. I told myself I would participate at least once, so here I am, terrified but jumping in. I wrote this while supervising study hall. #multitasking
Another bleak and dreary day
So gray
Longing for a glimpse of sun
Just one
Wait, back up, that’s a lie
Why?
My body aches for a warm breeze
Please
Sun’s rays kissing me gently
Friendly
Yet everywhere I cast my weary eyes
Sunrise?
No! My world is dirty snow and ice
Not nice
I feel the ocean calling in my bones
– Body moans –
I see the cold in my students’ blank gazes
Winter hazes
Hard to believe it’s only December
Remember?
Summer’s light, hold on tight,
Fight
Wrap up in a sweater and a smile
For a while
Take a breath, imagine the sea spray
Someday
Hop on a plane and fly away
Away!
Jen, Your images speak to me as I trudge through dirty snow, clean snow icicles off my dogs every time they’ve had to go out, scrape snow off my driveway…. I would love to “hop on a plan and fly away!”
Jen, I’m so glad you wrote a verse – and what a way to give us hope for the coming summer months full of sea spray and travel to places we want to visit. Thank you!
Welcome! So glad you are joining in. I felt much the same today. Michigan is known for it’s lack of sun and “bleak and dreary days So gray.” I really appreciated the line about the ocean calling and the sound in “-body moans-” as it added layer to the sound of the ocean. I’d be lying too if I longed for just a glimpse of the sun.
Jen,
Welcome! You will find only friends and inspiration here. This community has become a vital part of my life, and my wish is you will grow to feel the same.
Gotta say: Your poem is wonderful. I’d not know you’re “pretty new to writing” had you not told us. I, too, live in a place w/ gray skies. Love the shifts in your poem. The one at “yet” emphasizes we’re in for long, cold winters. That our students feel the same binds us to them. Surviving winter is a “fight.” Well done!
Jen,
The body is so present in your poem — able to feel kisses. It is almost like you are in a relationship with the sun, the snow calling in your bones. It seems like in the last lines Warmth is telling you “Take a breath” and beckoning you to join.
Love this,
Sarah
How wonderful! The poem and the jumping in. Congratulations! I’m newish too. I lurked quite a bit and then decided to try to write to the prompts. I have a hard time keeping up with the writing AND responding. Just do what you can. That’s how community builds. Pretty great poem for study hall time!
Jen, I think we are all there! This does seem like a rough time for school every year, these “winter hazes” you mentioned. Just keep in mind, the daylight starts getting longer in just four days! (But booking a flight now and dreaming of your warm, sunny destination might be just the key to surviving with your sanity intact!)
Sorry for a depressing poem right now, but this is my reality in my job right now. My state used to offer stipends, but they quit that three years ago when I first started the process.
National Board Certification Reject
Beginning National Board Certification?
Elation
Improving your skills as a teacher?
You reacher!
Ten entries have been pared down to four components?
You own this!
The one year process now takes three?
Indeed!
Still excited to begin this adventure?
Indenture
Work, work, work, then edit and revise
Eyes on the prize
Wait for seven months to see your results
Insults
Try again, don’t give up hope
You dope
You mean you’ve never failed before?
Poor score
Try again, blood, sweat, and tears
Internal jeers
Third times a charm, that’s what they say.
Not okay
Should I try again only to fail?
Time will tell
It doesn’t feel like perseverance
Adherence
But if I quit, I can’t advocate persistence anymore
Now a chore
Debra,
No apologies, okay? I appreciate the honesty in your poem. While the results of your portfolio make me sad, your poem is an excellent example of how a poem can change tone and take us to new places. If you do decide to continue w/ the NBPTS process, I’d like to help. I’m certified and also recertified. I understand the pain. And if you decide it’s time to move on to something else, you can’t think you quit. You’ve devoted much time to the process. No one can fault you for that. One of the best teachers I know decided after the second try she had done all she could. NB certification is only good when teachers continue perfecting their craft based on the standards. Not all do, and that’s their failure.
Glenda, I would love help! I’ve decided to try one more time.
Update: Didn’t want to leave my email hanging out in cyberspace so deleted it after hearing from you, Debra.
Debra, I feel your pain on a much smaller scale, and Glenda is the zen master – incredibly selfless in sharing her wisdom and experience. Fantastic poem also – it captures the frustration and the questioning.
Thank you! I am planning on tapping into Glenda’s expertise a bit to hopefully gain my elusive 110 score.
Debra, there’s no failure in self improvement. Ever. None. You’re a winner because you keep trying and learning in the process. Don’t give up. Keep going. The best success stories throughout history were riddled with rocky starts. Chin up, and keep going. Also, keep writing the truth – – depressing, ecstatic, angry, whatever it may be – – the authenticity of your writing is what makes it awesome. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Kim. Sometimes seeing the number skews the purpose behind the journey. Thank you for the reminder to stay focused on the goal instead of the outcome.
This is a safe space to share whatever and wherever your writing takes you. I appreciate how the echo words are that internal voice (a true echo to the events that happen to us). For whatever reason, “You reacher” really sounded for me. Maybe because sometimes it feels that way when it never should. Keep pushing. You’ve got this!
Ha ha – I loved and hated that line as I was writing!
Debra,
I “echo” what others are saying here. I hope in writing this poem that you found some comfort in moving through the lines and then validation when you shared your words with others. This space is rather incredible as we offer you intimacy without physical proximity. I find the “depressing” and the silly to be welcome here.
In your lines, I notice how some lines had questions and periods and others were left without. This lack of end punctuation signals hope and possibility. You got this.
Sarah
Ah, yes, you all got to hear some of the frustration I have been keeping inside since the score release. But I am finding a lot of words of encouragement, which is even more helpful than the cathartic experience of writing the poem. Thank you all!
Ouch! Those internal jeers are rough…sometimes so rough that nothing anyone else can say can get in. I agree with Glenda. No apologies. This is the poem that wanted to be written today. It’s got truth and grit. Chores get done…and then you feel good that you got the job done. You might even go back to peek at how good you did. The poem is solid.
Thank you, Linda. I appreciate the feedback.
This poem is about a struggle I’m facing with one of my students who really needs new shoes and clothes. The shoes are really an issue. I didn’t follow the pattern as given, I took liberty to make the response/echo also be part of the following lines.
All He Wants for Christmas is His Feet to be Free
Would his mother be offended if I bought him some shoes?
News
to me if she doesn’t notice. His feet are too big?
Dig
into the edges of broken soles. Does that hurt your toes?
Knows
good and well he should come before her. Or does she?
Geeee
that new handbag could’ve been his Nikes. Right?
Might
secretly place them in his backpack this week. Would she know they were from me?
She
can think what she wants. He deserves his feet to feel?
FREE
Stacey, I faced something similar a few years ago, but with a kid who didn’t have any gloves. I bought a pair and placed them under his desk the hour before he entered. When he was about to leave, I told him he left something under his desk. When he told me they weren’t his, I told him I was certain they were. He didn’t know how to handle it, but he said thank you the day he graduated.
I absolutely love that the thank you came at graduation!
Stacey,
This is heartbreaking. I expected to read about a family who couldn’t afford shoes and then reached the part about the handbag. Now I’m asking, where did the bag come from? Am I making a judgment about its origin that isn’t accurate? You have hit upon a delicate subject. I love the way you’ve adapted the form so the echo when read apart from the other lines is a response, but when I read it as part of the next line it’s a declaration. Do let us know what happens in this saga.
You express this beautifully— the doubts, the wanting to help, the wondering how. Now, I’m curious— your new bag or hers?
Oh my! Way to read closely. I assumed the bag was the mother’s and now I don’t know!
Me too. I assumed the bag was Mama’s bag.
Great observation! Actually I just bought myself a pricy (in my opinion) handbag for Christmas. I’m not one for spending much on bags and shoes but sometimes I do. I didn’t think about my student’s feet being more in need than my personal wants. I don’t know how I feel about it. You know what I mean?
This took me through all kinds of feelings. And then there’s the focus on the word FREE at the end: freedom for the feet, free shoes from a gift, being free from the burden of not having shoes or from deciding to purchase some for him. Thanks for sharing this.
I love the way your echo is the beginning of the new sonnet line. That’s clever, and your creativity is colorful here. I absolutely know this story – – the kid needing the new clothes or shoes and not getting it, but by all appearances the parent has everything he or she needs. It’s so frustrating as a teacher knowing the needs are not met like they could be. Our teachers at our school several years ago said enough! to buying gifts for each other. What we do now is put up an angel tree, and everyone buys something for a student in need in our own school. Our counselors arrange it, and we’re much happier knowing the students are getting much needed items and we are avoiding getting one more coffee mug and one more scarf and one more box of candy that we don’t need from our fellow teachers. I wish your student an angel with a brand new pair of shoes this Christmas!
Stacey,
I love how you are using this form to transition to, from, and through your reasoning in this situation that we see in our classrooms so often. We are entrusted with human beings and as such do what the human beings in our care need first. I know you will find a way to free his feet while protecting his dignity, and if/when the parent notices, I know you will find the words as you have these past few months with us. Verse will be your friend. Big hug.
Sarah
Absolutely heartfelt here. I have seen this and as we are all excited about the upcoming break….I realize that some of my favorite kiddos are not. They do not have all that they need outside of school. I love the honesty in this and the questions that are truthful.
[I struggled with the echo. I am posting the poem first without the echo and then with it. Since it’s snowing oats and popcorn here in Missouri right now… I was steeped in snow memories.]
ANOTHER DECEMBER: ’73
Bundled up, we stood in the new snow that night,
listening to the city calm itself and settle
under the twelve inches of pristine white, an ease,
as if exhaling all the troubles under all the rooves,
letting peace smooth the prickly skin of the cityscape;
wind slipped through the old pines outside our home,
as if whispering secrets and prayer;
we stood side-by-side, throwing ourselves back into a drift,
flapping our arms into angel wings
and fell silent, watching our breath heave
against the street light that glowed like a candle against the night sky.
©Susie SMorice
ANOTHER DECEMBER: ’73 (with echo)
Bundled up, we stood in the new snow that night,
– all right
listening to the city calm itself and settle
– no nettle
under the twelve inches of pristine white, an ease,
– to please
as if exhaling all the troubles under all the rooves,
– reproves
letting peace smooth the prickly skin of the cityscape;
– escape
wind slipped through the old pines outside our home,
– shalom
as if whispering secrets and prayer;
– to share
we stood side-by-side, throwing ourselves backward into a drift,
– we lift
flapping our arms into angel wings
– heartstrings
and fell silent, watching our breath heave
– we cleave
against the street light that glowed like a candle against the night sky
– and sigh.
©Susie Morice
Susie,
Thank you for taking us to your places once again. I love and appreciate being alongside you where you grew up, where you sit today and compose (surrounded by snow). And thank you for taking us into your process here. I think it helps other writers to see how a poem emerges and how every stage of the poem is, in itself/by itself, a stand-alone piece. And then, we see it in conversation with the echo and rhythm in a new form. Wow. You are a gift. You are the “angel wings/–heartstrings.” Be safe today.
Sarah
Susie, I struggled writing an echo, too, but I love the form so wanted to try.
Adding the echo to your original poem changes the tone, as though breaking the silence one experiences standing quietly in the snow and observing the city. Your images are so strong. I love the personification in “exhaling” and “prickly skin of the city.” Beautiful.
As Sarah notes, I appreciate glimpsing your process. I hope you know how you inspire and lift me to push myself as a poet. Your poems always offer a master class in craft. ❤️
Glenda, both are beautiful! I settled in and calmed as I read them. And the echo adds another layer of feeling. Thank you!
I’ve never heard the phrase “snowing oats and popcorn” before, but I love it! I wish we had some of that here in MI. I absolutely love your line “wind slipped through the old pines outside our home, as if whispering secrets and prayer.” Such beauty there. When you fell into the drift flapping angel wings and fell silent, I was right there with you. In fact, I was right back in my childhood, feeling and experiencing this sameness. And I love those same lines in the echo poem, especially with the added heartstrings.
Susie, I envy your snow memories. Having grown up on an island, I always dreamed of snowy places and rarely got to experience them. This is my favorite part: ” letting peace smooth the prickly skin of the cityscape;
– escape”
That escape is what we all want, I think, particularly right now. But there’s something about a starry night sky in December that just takes me away. I love your memories of the snow. Thank you for sharing them so I can vicariously be there in snow angel mode.
Oh, how beautiful….I literally slowed and relaxed as I read this. “Listening to the city calm itself–” yes, this. And, looking up into the street light from snow angel-ing. What memories this brings. Your echoes are lovely with heartstrings, shalom, sigh. Delicious. Enjoy your snow and the peace of it.
Glenda, I absolutely cheer with joy at the end “Love yourself to love others more. Score!” No question mark, a strong statement and a huge score at the end! As we’ve shared before in other posts on aging, it’s just so hard when our bodies do what they do and we wonder who gave them permission. All is well because in order to reach these “olden days” we have to be well and allow life to gift us a new day every day. I love this poem and I’m already praying nothing goes wrong in cyberspace and it will post when I’m finished writing.
Stacey, thank you. This aging thing is a process. One day I’m okay. The next seems to bring new challenges. I’m looking forward to reading your echo poem.
Snow Day equals some writing time. Woot! This is a draft I hope to work on for another prompt from STEAM Powered Poetry. I’m liking the science & poetry blend these days.
Barbara McClintock Nobel Prize Winning Cytogeneticist
Barbara know farmers talk: knee-high
by fourth of July
Field corn or sweet
multi-color speckled or neat.
She’s a smart kid with a corn craze
thinking about maize on summer days
Where can she find information?
to answer fast growing questions?
She studies at Cornell University
earning a degree in Botany
Searching genetic regulation
in chromosome generation
Can microscopic investigation assist
our budding cytogeneticist?
What’s called junk DNA
is what she studies all day
Though doubted and slighted
her work is farsighted
A Nobel prize twenty years later
physiology and medicine now greater
A curious girl’s mind shows
more than corn growing in rows
Knee-high
by the Fourth of July.
Linda, I learned something new reading your echo poem. What a fun way to introduce students to important women in STEAM! Who says poetry doesn’t go w/ math and science. Your poem makes me envision a whole collection of echo poems about scientists. “ Though doubted and slighted / her work is farsighted” is so inspiring.
I like the idea of giving this format to kids as a way of bundling up knowledge about a person (or event). My grandmother used to say “knee-high by the Fourth of July.” I still measure corn this way when driving by farm fields. I love the couplet, “a curious girl’s mind shows more than corn growing in rows.”
Linda, I’m jealous of your snow day for writing and I’m envious of your creative energy in writing. This opening line reminds me of Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery.” Something about “June, the corn be ready soon” That’s one of my favorite short stories because it is so haunting. I love this, and I find it warming that on a snow day you are thinking of June! Snowflakes and corn…..
None of us have spirited family Christmases with characters like these – I repeat: this is all fictional (required disclaimer). But for our friends who do, here is…..a holiday hashtag echo with 14 plus a solution.
Sleighfully Navigating a Spirited Family Christmas
Self-proclaimed “Mother-of-the-Year” stepsister mommy shaming another?
#Santa-PatternedGiftwrapSmother!
Philandering uncle’s womanizing making you sick?
#ReindeerHoofSwiftCrotchKick!
Cheap-ass brother not bearing a gift? #SnowmanFacialFeatureShift!
Political hothead brother-in-law TRUMPeting his lies?
#CandyCaneGougeOutEyes!
Know-it-all cousin crowing all he knows?
#Non-AngelicBloodyNose!
Holier-than-thou stepfriend “blessing your heart?”
#ToxicFumeElfBlameFart!
Perfect pink princess sister-in-law going to town?
#PeppermintMochaSpaTubDrown!
Meddling mother-in-law business-poking?
#GoodOldFashionedWreathChoking!
Freeloading stepbrother eating everyone’s lunch?
#Star-TreeTopperThroatPunch!
Gossiping father spewing venom?
#BowCuttingScissorStabbingDenim!
Bragging niece going yackety-yak?
#PoisonedMistletoeGutSmack!
Stumbling drunk nephew landing in laps?
#Eggnog-MoistenedFaceSlaps!
All 17 spoiled grandkids acting high class? #PricklyHollySpankingAss!
Manipulative aunt controlling the back porch?
#StrategicallyAimedYuleLogTorch!
The best way through the Christmas fog?
#CurlUpUnderTreeWithDog!
Hahahahahaha! Definitely the Nightmare Before Christmas. I think I’ll pick curling up under the tree with my dog. Your rhyme stretching is impressive!
This is HILARIOUS!! I love the hashtag responses because it’s all the things I think but never do (disclaimer) but man, so funny. I think I love #CandyCaneGougeOutEyes the most. There’s nothing better than that visual. The ending is precious, bringing me back to sanity and safety. LOL. Happy holidays!
Kim, this is both hilarious and the scariest! Some of these characters have populated my family gatherings. As a kid all the girls were warned about one octopus-like fellow. I have stories. My stepmother’s family is full of lip kissers. That never sat well w/ my father. I’m sure my dad’s family will be worshipping Trump and talking smack about me and my sinful ways when they get together this year. That’s pretty much how things go.
Every line in your echo poem is perfect. I can’t pick a favorite, but the philandering line and the Trump line gave me dreaming! Ha! Love your solution. I’ll be curled up w/ my dogs for sure.
I can’t decide which fate I enjoyed the most!
I laughed out loud at “#ReindeerHoofSwiftCrotchKick” – not sure what that says about my Christmas spirit ?!? Every line is perfect. Thanks for bringing some fun to the awful situations many find themselves in. There are many reasons to love dogs. This is one of them!
‘‘Twas the Week Before Christmas in Middle School
Five days to Christmas break
Piece of cake.
Spirit Week in middle school?
Cruel.
Students are anything but nestling snug
Humbug!
The hall fills with dervishes
Skirmishes.
Hormones in flight
A plight.
Voices set to ten
Again.
Brains set to one.
I’m done.
And me with my essay
Messy.
And you with your test
A jest.
Have just settled in to an hour of bliss
Hiss.
Visions of mayhem dance
No chance.
Attention is scattered
No matter.
We will maintain
Insane.
On the last of my nerves
No reserve.
Dance away, prance away
On our last day…
To the end of the line
Wine.
Amen, sister! Love the economy of words.
Although I agree that my short version was appropriately pithy, here is the real version… ?
Gayle,
OMG! I feel your pain. I’ve experienced some awful spirit weeks in high school, too. A few years ago our district changed spirit week to a week w/ three days leading into October teacher meetings. What a relief!
So apparently these middle school issues begin in my 4th grade classroom!! Wow, so very true of my feelings and theirs too. “To the end of the line/Wine.” I AM 100% WITH YOU AND CHEERS!!! Love your poem, the humor and the truth of it all.
Gayle, I loved your short version but this one is even better. Every line, sublime! I hope you share this w/ colleagues. It’s a perfect description of the week before wi yet break. Cheers and a toast to you!
I feel the need to send you hugs! This is such a crazy week. The little nods (have just settled in to an hour of bliss, visions of mayhem) work so well. It’s like we get the peaks into the Christmas season popping up in all the chaos. I can especially appreciate “brains set to one.”
That last word…..is positively the best. I’m right there with you in the middle school, just counting the days……we’ve had full moon, Friday the 13th, and the Christmas countdown this year……and we need the wine as soon as we can get it. I related to every word.
Gayle,
I took a day off to attend a funeral… a blessing in disguise as I now have one less day of “The Week Before Christmas in Middle School”! Thank you for sharing your witty words. May you enjoy that well-earned glass of wine.
Oh my! I love this on so many levels! Of course your allusion to “Night Before” are delightful…and this stanza made me Grin Out Loud:
Hormones in flight
A plight.
Voices set to ten
Again.
Brains set to one.
I’m done.
Echo in Jenga
Tap each piece to reveal a release.
Geesh.
Slide the block, then pull it through.
Whew.
Wobbles beckon breaths from rivals.
Pile.
Tumbled blocks, dismantled fortress.
Stress.
Citadel rises three by three.
Gee.
“Your turn,” they say.
“I have to pee.”
Glee!
Sarah,
That last part in conversation form w/ “pee” as a response is hilarious! Have you played giant Jenga? Having the game set up in the yard takes it to a whole new scary level. Love your echo poem!
I’m glad to see this response. I was thinking this form required questions…I mis-read and went back to check. Jenga! Love how you use this game this way. No fair escaping the last move for a pee break!
I love that the reader’s eyes slide back and forth, much like the jenga blocks! It visually sets up the push and pull of the game. I appreciate that you allow us to pay attention to what is essentially a simple game through your word choices. And the humor at the end!
Ha! “I have to pee.” I’m laughing at your Jenga strategy and, as always, in awe of your way with words.
“Wobbles beckon breaths from rivals” provokes such imagery and sensory detail.
Glenda! Thank you for this echo sonnet prompt. I love how the form demands an answer to our questions, giving the writer agency in the response leading up to the final lines: “Love yourself to love others more./Score!”
Sarrah
YES! I was just writing a response to a writer and thinking about how this form calls on us to echo (maybe) or answer, or contradict. So many possibilities!