This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. Welcome. This year — May 2025 to August 2026– we are going to do just three days a month for the Open Write. The writing across five days was going strong, but we thought we would try three to see how that feels for the community as far as time and joy and sustainability.
Our Host
Sarah J. Donovan, PhD, is a former junior English language arts teacher of fifteen years and current Associate Professor of Secondary English Education at Oklahoma State University (since 2019). She wrote the young adult novel, Alone Together (2018) and is the co-author on several books on poetry Rhyme and Rhythm: Poems for Student Athletes, Teachers Writing to Bridge the Distance, 90 Ways of Community, and Words that Mend. Two forthcoming books include Teaching Poetry in a Digital World: Inspiring Poetry Writing through Technology in Grades 6-12 and Writing to Learn Across Content Areas: Poetry as Formative Assessment. Sarah is the founder of Ethical ELA, a free resource for ELA educators to write poetry in community.
Inspiration
Poet Emanuel Xavier writes of wanting to forget and living toward forgiveness in his poem “Step Father.” Here is an excerpt:
…to belong. Like him, I want to forget that we
made mistakes and caused so much pain. I need
for both of us to remember how he taught me
how to ride a bike and how to swim and told
me, better late than never, that he loved me and
was proud of all I had done. I have to help him
settle into his favorite chair and let him know that
I forgive him. There is a place somewhere where
he will call me hijo and I will know him as my dad.
(Click the link above for the full poem and listen to the interview below to hear Emanuel Xavier read his poem and discuss his writing life.)
Process
Sometimes I find myself holding onto hurt that I wish I could forgive. I think it serves me better, for now, to not forget, to not forgive, but to remember and feel the hurt. And these days, I find myself stepping more into myself and not apologizing or asking for forgiveness for staying true to myself. I invite you to think about forgiveness, apologies, and acceptance today — in ways that serve your heart and mind.
One way into a poem is this:
- Who is a person who has caused you harm that you have forgiven or know you will never forgive?
- Do you need to apologize or ask for forgiveness?
- Or might there be something about yourself that you need to let go off, maybe give yourself permission to move on?
Another way into a poem today, more light-hearted, is this:
- Take a humorous approach to the theme of forgiveness by writing from the perspective of someone who has wronged a very petty or ridiculous character—perhaps a talking frog who still holds a grudge about being turned into a prince, or a cat who refuses to forgive you for switching its brand of kibble. Play with exaggerated grudges, over-the-top apologies, and the absurdity of letting go of seemingly silly grievances.
Write in any form you wish or borrow Emanuel’s narrative structure. I went a little humorous in my poem today. I am not going to ask for forgiveness for being me.
Sarah’s Poem
No Pea Apologies
I wonder what you see in me when we
eat separately. The precision you take in
microwave percentages, the dollop point
five of mayonnaise, the phases of preparation
that gradual heat for a perfect crisp. You’d
like to say you’ve taught me this patience
over two decades, but I am already eating
my bowl of peas microwaved on high
burning the roof of my mouth as I perch
on the gray armchair with a glass of sauvignon
blanc and a book of poetry on my lap.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
You Need Not Apply
By Mo Daley 5/20/25
I am of an age where if something no longer serves me,
then bye.
I don’t have time for drama or nonsense
I mean, why?
You don’t have time to call, check in?
You’re not an ally.
You wanna know what he said she said about you?
Girl, why?
You want me to help you move again on a moment’s notice?
Standby.
You wanna walk all over me?
I won’t comply.
You see, I’m at an age to think about
me, myself, and I!
Hello! May any reader forgive me for this, my first open write attempt after enjoying verse love a ton.
Harvey, IL
you sent me a birthday letter
on a postcard
pointing out the obvious
“this card belonged to your grandfather”
yes, I see the name and address
clearly provided
I remember the house across the street
my great- grandmother, your grandmother
walking in, lonely tennis match on the tv
I remember the other house down the street
my great-great-grandmother, your great- grandmother
after her funeral
105 years old, quite an accomplishment
your parents moved to Waukegan
you went to college, married mom, had me
you know what I remember most of all?
the verbal abuse
the condescension
the petty arguments
the lying
the refusal to accept my wife
the selfishness
so when you remind me of my grandfather
or when you say “what did we do?”
or when you claim to love me
just know
everything I hate in me reminds me of you
I can and have forgiven
but we will never reconcile
the way you want
those I love deserve to be protected from you more than any thing I could possibly owe to you
after 25 years, forgive is a thing that is still very complicated
This is so raw and I feel your anger and empowerment in each line. Such a strong boundaried voice- wow- thank you for sharing this vulnerable piece.
Luke! I am right down the street from you in Oak Forest!
I did not anticipate where your poem was going, but your last two lines- wow! That protection you feel is so strong and so clear. This was a tough poem to read, but I really appreciate the emotion you put into it.
Hey Sarah,
Congratulations on your sabbatical! It sounds like you have an amazing year planned (or maybe somewhat unplanned, too). Tonight’s a late start for me, on the road for college pickup and then went to see the Edgar Allan Poe Speakeasy (lots of fun!), which gets me to the poem…
A Forgiveness Poem penned after seeing a bunch of Edgar Allan Poe stories somewhere in Ohio
Okay, listen up, I got something
I wanna say about forgiveness…
To all the people
who really screwed me
over the years, and you know
who you are, cuz I’m not talking,
like, accidentally screwed me;
I mean real deal knew you were
giving me the horns,
thought about it and then still
went for it…
And I know who you are cuz
I got a little list in my head,
and that doesn’t sound like
a great way to start a poem
about forgiveness, but bear
with me.
Turns out, I just got done seeing this
“Edgar Allan Poe Speakeasy”
thing—they give you a drink
And then tell a Poe story,
Drink, story, drink, story,
you get the picture,
and let me tell you—
these are some very
unforgiving people
in these stories!
And, uh, spoiler alert,
things don’t go very well for
anyone in these stories—
So to all you heartless, bottom dwelling,
a-holes on my list, consider yourself
forgiven. I mean, you never buried me
or walled up my rotting corpse with a possibly supernatural and ghoulishly hungry cat, or sent a talking bird to torment me to me to death, so I guess
we might as well let bygones be
bygones.
In fact, why don’t you come by my place and have a drink with me,
I have this great bottle of amontillado
that I think you’d really love!
Oh boy, Dave, what an ending.
Thanks for bringing me back to reading Poe in seventh grade.
Haha. I love your voice in this, very funny.
Dave, I picture you reading this poem out loud to all the a-holes on your list ))
Yes, and a drink of amontillado casually. Lol
Dave, this is brilliant! (And I love the idea of this “‘Edgar Allan Poe Speakeasy’ / thing.” “Drink, story, drink, story” sounds pretty great!) And I also love the ambiguity of the ending — with the “amontillado” — maybe you’re really going to forgive these “a-holes” or maybe you’re gonna do a little bit of basement remodeling, lol.
THis is fabulous, Dave! I am tempted to share a drink with you, but also a little scared.
Sarah,
Thanks for once again hosting. Your poem made me laugh. I like that you’ve kept your eating habits despite your partner’s pride in teaching you patience, perhaps being fed as much by the poem as by the food.
Intermezzo
As I read the last chapter
I worry that I’m going to be unhappy
with the ending
Characters not pairing up
In ways that make sense to me
But as the novel winds down
I sob at the forgiveness
the brothers offer
one another
After the catharsis
I’m less judgmental
more willing
to let Sally Rooney’s characters
have the ending
I didn’t want for them
Man! It is so hard sometimes to forgive authors for the torture they put us through. I appreciate the journey you took us on in your poem- one that speaks to so much to something I have felt deeply.
Okay, Intermezzo has been on my TBR list for a while now. You are helping to push it to the top with your sobbing.
Thank you, Sarah! Such a needed, but not an easy prompt. Sorry, I am late; it was our commencement ceremony today int he afternoon, and then the reception. I just got home, but the words came to me within a few minutes, when I sat at my laptop.
Unforgivable, Unmovable
How do you forget
the unforgettable,
forgive
the unforgivable,
move on
when you’re stuck
with the presence
of internal demons?
They say:
be wiser,
be understanding,
be patient—
time will place everything
where it belongs.
But how do I learn
to trust this
human wisdom
when I still live
with the weight of
unforgettable,
unforgivable,
unmovable
pain?
Maybe the answer
is not in forgetting,
even not in forgiving,—
but in learning to breathe
with what still won’t let go.
Leilya,
I feel the tension mounting with each un-
Culminating in
Much to think about here.
I like the tentativeness of your search for solace:
which gains solidity
Thank you for sharing your thoughts,
Leilya,
This is a beautifully pensive and reflective poem. I love these questions that you use to frame the poem and the rhythms that you create in the poem as you take us through your thoughts towards your resolution.
Reverend Venge
O’ the torment of you,
for all you put me through,
slice my serenity,
Exploding within me.
And I cannot,
and I will rot,
Before, I
give the for,
blacken my soul,
Hell!!
feed me more.
There is no for, in my give,
I inhale the pain, to live.
Stregthen my stride,
battle, my battles on the inside.
Because I hate the hate,
I did not create.
coiled,
My promises wait.
I will strike with fury,
Red- fire blurry.
we will both feel the flames,
of my revenge, I refuse to tame.
What for in my give?
you created a monster,
In my anger- he lives.
He has granted me vision,
a nemesis, a division.
I love him more than I loved,
I exhale down, not above.
And you, you will come with me,
years, decades,
my promises wait, patiently.
There is no for in my give,
Glorious revenge,
Is where I live.
Boxer, you got me with your title – such an oxymoron! Sometimes I feel the same and “refuse to tame.”
The title and the whole thing are pure genius. Your writing is just such a unique flavor- delicious. The rhythm is everything.
Boxer,
The thing that is really striking to me in your poem is how you break up forgiving to emphasize the verb “giving” which really highlights the agency of the giver. It’s a really brilliant move.
And the other thing that sticks with me is the way that you frame anger, almost as a companion.
What a great prompt Sarah ~ many brave people have tried to teach me patience and I can only say that I have suffered many burning microwave meals as I stubbornly sip wine ~ you have captured the moment’s perch perfectly.
Many heavy incidents came to mind when I first read the prompt, but this one seemed almost resolved until my daughter stopped by and reading over my shoulder added the last parenthetical words.
Pokemon Yellow
a poem in three acts
I. The Apologizer
I was a child of Mousetrap, pick-up sticks
and easy bake ovens,
mothering a child who loved
colorful blobs caught in a screen.
Sitting so quietly she might have been reading,
how was I to know she’d really been training,
evolving,
gathering badges,
beating levels
and had finally reached the penultimate battle
when she left for school
and I turned off her gameboy to save the battery.
Two decades of my regret has not yet
softened my beloved daughter’s heart
so I offered her today’s poem
as yet another apology.
II. Her Response (Versified)
Very nice. but that’s not how I remember it.
I remember being dragged
from flea market to antique store,
while playing Pokemon in the car.
Time to get out of the car, you said.
Time to stop playing, you said.
I was in the middle of my final battle.
I needed only to complete my quest
but in one pivotal moment
with my most difficult struggles behind me
and my championship seconds away,
a force greater than any I’d gathered so far
snatched my gameboy,
shut it off,
and forever denied me my childhood boast.
III. Grand Finale Almost
One incident. Two perspectives.
A thoughtful mom and studious child?
or frazzled mom and stubborn child?
Who can tell?
We can only agree to disagree
because I love her, she loves me
and Pokemon is history. (not really, she adds
waltzing out the door).
I can relate so closely to this poem, Ann. My older daughter and I seem to have similar opposing perspectives about her childhood, but most importantly, as you say, “I love her, she loves me.” I like how you told this poem in three acts, and that grand finale is not “final.” You have time to shorten the distance. Thank you for your words today.
Ann,
As a parent it’s always so difficult to predict or even understand what little things in our eyes are huge things in the eyes of our children. I love how you frame this narrative.amd I love the piece at the end that adds emphasis to the importance of the event in your daughter’s eyes.
I decided a certain someone needed forgiveness…Me!
dear self
for keeping things secret
for not speaking up
for exterior confidence and interior catastrophizing
I forgive you
for impatience with hypochondria
for deadly eyerolls
for parenting mistakes
I forgive you
for counting calories
for not cheering enough
for wasting joy doomscrolling
I forgive you
but…
for believing you intuitively
understand quantum theory?
I’m sorry…
I cannot let this go.
©draft PJF
Wonderful!!
I hear ya!!
Patricia, this is so fun, I was nodding along throughout, with the same or similar misdeeds I need to forgive myself for. And then the but…
It just had me in stitches. So many smiles here! Thank you.
This is great Patricia…almost like it should be it’s own prompt…I letter to ourselves…deadly eyeballs, parenting mistakes ( see my poem
for counting calories (but apparently not enough)….so much that it’s hard to let go. I really enjoyed this!
Patricia, such a great poem! So many of us parage this “exterior confidence and interior catastrophizing” daily. Thank you.
Hi Sarah,
I’m excited to be back to Open Write and will be even more excited to see all that lies ahead with your sabbatical! Congrats again.
Here’s my apology to my hair. If I could do life all over again, I would have respected the beauty of my “hair-itage” and never let media fool me into all the things so many black girls/women did (and still do) that ruined our crowning glory.
An Apology to My Roots
You were strong
Resilient
Able to withstand
Heat and force
Until the lye
Took hold
And weaved its way
Through the depths
Of my cellular
Crown
Twisted and braided
With lies
Masking
Natural beauty
In conformity
To my hair & its roots,
I sincerely apologize.
©Stacey L. Joy, 5/17/25
Simply beautiful and the graphic needs to go viral
Oh this is so Good. I love the multi meaning words here. Seemingly inanimate apology but also so much more. Love the hair-itage, too. So well done. Happy to read your work again!
Love the sense of moving forward in strength that comes through these lines!
Stacey, your voice always resonates with me. I love how you directly speak to your hair here and weave in “hair” language to show the actions you’ve taken. Your poem shares how society places unrealistic expectations, especially when it comes to personal appearances which comes through so well in your third stanza. I really like your title, too, and love the Canva presentation. Gorgeous!
Oh, wow, Stacey. That title–the multiple meanings of Roots. So powerful. Twisted and braided with lies is another. So very strong, like you.
Stacey, this is lovely. Masking/natural beauty/in conformity. I love how this poem is both metaphorical and direct. Your word choice is exquisite.
Stacey, this is a lovely and yet sad reflection on what “we” as members of a society focused on some strange image of beauty do to our hair. I really “feel” the strength of your apology to your hair and can only hope your hair hears/feels your desire to reconcile!
Stacey, I first, looked at the amazing Canva art. The poem looks like it belongs to this page –so beautiful. I read “roots’ both literally and metaphorically.
Stacey,
This is so beautiful. I like how many double meanings you create: roots, weaved, crown, twisted and braided.
This is wonderful, much deeper meaning here as you marinate on the words . I think my favorite bit is
“With lies
Masking
Natural beauty
In conformity”
Thank you, Sarah, for hosting today! I should have written a forgiveness poem for all the bad poems I share. I love the voice in your poem and wonder about who the apology is directed. The peas burning the roof of your mouth adds quite a zing to your poem considering the precise measurements the intended audience uses.
Dear Dick,
I’m sorry I spoke
Created unexpected tension
Shared my tears
Demanded justice
Refused to back down
Even with your fists raised
I knew I must not concede,
Striking front and a little below center
—yeah, now look who’s crying
Barb Edler
17 May 2025
OMG, Barb, I love this. I’m so curious about who the audience is–perhaps a bully from your childhood or an ex boss. I love that you were demanding justice. Perhaps that’s a “sorry, not sorry” apology for speaking out. That last line! Priceless.
Barb, I love the economy of words in the phrasing and use of white space here. The strength in “I knew I must not concede” resonated and even ached in me.
Also, I am forever grateful for all your poems, every single one of them.
Barb, I cannot help to imagine who this “Dick” in your life is/was! Perhaps it was on the playground with physical force, but I wonder if your “strikes” were verbal, just below the belt, so to speak? Your images of tears and fists reminds me of the emotional toll fighting has on each of us. Then, your last line makes me smile because clearly, “Dick” is the clear loser!
The end!!!!! Bravo!!!!!!! This is fantastic and I loved picturing who it must be for. Love. Thanks for sharing. What a dick.
Beautiful words – so tense – so pain-filled – so beautifully offset by your last line, ” – yeah, now look who’s crying.”
Such a perfect opening “Dear Dick” –and matched with a killer end line. Brava!
Well, doggone it!! Dick! I think you’ve made a point so clear it hurts!


Barb, what a charmingly delightful poem! Love the approach, the form, the image and message. And especially the movie in my mind…..
Barb, bravo! You tell us a story in a few lines finishing it with your triumph over Dick, whoever he is. I applaud your bravery.
Forgiveness
To forgive you
wasn’t simple.
It was complicated
messy
interwoven
time-consuming
It meant facing a dragon
determined to destroy you,
when all you held was the
shadow of a sword.
It required going back
in time and re-feeling
moments so painful
it snatched your breath away.
It allowed you to let the
child in you to weep
and mourn the loss of a
mom who ran away.
Who never touched you
in love but only in rage,
whose words were bullets
shattering your young soul.
Unwinding the strands that
strangled your perception of yourself,
throwing light with new perspectives
on events that robbed you of faith.
Facing that dragon only to realize
it was a human being,
full of pain, who used the
weapons of adulthood.
You could see the frailties
without feeling friendship.
You could give honor
without giving respect.
You could love yourself
without having been loved.
You could accept it all
as lessons and not a life sentence.
Wading through the
complicated,
time-consuming,
interwoven,
messy strands,
you found
forgiveness
and freedom.
Oh, Judie, oof, this is a heart-wrenching poem. I love how you show why forgiveness was necessary in order to find freedom. The “messy strands” are complex and resonate deep pain. Thanks for sharing such a powerful poem today!
Judi, this poem seems like the
process of forgiving was worth it. Such rich details in your poem make us realize how powerful the forgiveness and freedom would be.
Judy,
Facing the dragon is everything there. I think that is what I am afraid of in my own unforgivings. The wading you show here is the sort of effort it takes toward freedom that your poem shows is worth it, really.
Judi, your poem is both heartbreaking and encouraging. In my humble opinion, facing the dragon, as you did, is the real challenge and the key to moving forward.
This is so painful and beautiful. I recently saw a post about “I’m sorry you didn’t have a chance to heal before you had kids” and the pains and traumas that are passed on through generations. This piece hurt. Brave work. Hoping to read more from you this month. Hugs.
You describe the struggle so well. And landing on forgiveness giving freedom is perfect.
This dragon – and facing it only with the shadow of a sword – shows the obstacle so clearly about overcoming and how impossible it sometimes seems. Your poem gives hope for those deep issues that channel the inner demons and dragons we wrestle with and the way the work is worth the effort as the outcome. This one goes straight to the heart.
Facing dragons is so hard, Judi, and all theis forgiveness business is so “messy and time-consuming”, and sould draining too. Thank you for sharing!
Great poem. So authentic and vulnerable. Whether the reader can either relate so incredibly with their own experience or even if someone can’t quite relate to the feelings, you communicate them so well that they feel them through your own heart. Again, really well done.
Sarah, when I first read your post early this morning, I felt as if you were poking at the weak spot in my heart where I try to keep my lingering anger under the cover of a blanket of forgiveness. Yet, as I reflected on your prompt and my heart, I realized that for me, forgiveness, as in a noun, the act of totally letting go of my resentment, is not likely. What I am doing, every day, is to forgive as in a active act of moving forward. It is working for me!
I’ve
Said, “I forgive you.“
Tried to
Forgive.
Let go of resentment.
Redirect anger.
Reimagine my life.
I’ve
Read Relationship Trauma
Done therapy and yoga.
Planted flowers.
Walked many miles.
Discarded memories.
Envisioned a new story.
I’m still
Sad on
Holidays, anniversaries.
Aware that for me,
To forgive is
An every-day-of-your-life
Recurring action,
A verb, rather than a noun.
Anita, l love the way you approach the prompt with a poem that shares the journey – the process of forgiveness, right down to the planting of flowers and reading the book. I think you’re onto something here with the idea of having a forgiveness mindset – a verb for everyday practice like weeding those flowers and yoga stretching of the heart.
this is beautiful!!
OH, Anita, I love the way you open and close this poem. The “A verb, rather than a noun” resonates with the resentment experienced. Your second stanza shows so much and the effort it takes to forgive. Powerful, compelling poem. Thank you for sharing!
Anita, I’m glad you reflected today on how you cope with this and work forgiveness as a verb. The details are rich.
Anita,
So glad to see you in our Open Writes after the lovely relationship we built during Verselove. That last stanza of “still/Sad” and the “Recurring action” is an important insight for me, for us in this prompt and lovely uttered with economy.
Oh this is so tender. Thank you for sharing this pain. Hugs. I really loved “discarded memories, envisioned a new story” -so true. Brace piece.
Ooooo, Anita…
is just so true. It’s a choice every day.
So poignant, yet to the point. Brilliant final stanza “To forgive is an every-day-of-your-life recurring action, a verb, rather than a noun.” – that hit me so hard. I’ve traveled this path with you, my friend, thank you for telling our story so beautifully.
I Will Not Apologize
for loving
the fact
that when
an alpaca
gives birth
it’s referred
to as an
“unpacking”
(that’s it
that’s the
poem)
__________________________________
Phew, Sarah, thanks for letting me get that off my chest, lol. I’ve been carrying that knowledge around for a couple weeks now, thoroughly enjoying it, but, ultimately, not knowing what to do with it.
Your poem had me smiling with your piping hot peas, dry white wine, and “book of [contemporary?] poetry on [your] lap.”
Haha! Thank you for getting that off your chest and into our hearts, unpacking the baby alpaca is such a precious thought. Unpacking could be a great metaphor for other births too, or maybe unwrapping. Anyway, thank you!
Scott, I must admit I do not know this, but I am glad to know this! I do know that a baby alpaca is an incredibly beautiful animal and I sure the Mama was relieved to unpack it!
Thanks for the morning giggle. This is the best!
Trademark Scott with a dash of the iconic Billy C humor! I needed this chuckle today. You rocked the prompt!
Sweet, sweet poem, Scott. So glad it found a home today here in the “unpacking.” Yes.
This made me laugh. And also, unpacking?? Genius.
Love, love, love how your mind works! I didn’t see this one coming and thought it was hysterical!
Whaaaat? I love alpacas and never knew this. You always deliver so many nuggets of wisdom and humor!
Scott,
what a fun twist on today’s topic. I feel like I will be thinking about this every time I encounter an alpaca reference. Too bad that’s not more often.
This is my first open write! I am excited. Thank you Sara for hosting.
strawberry shortcake
Kasey D.
I could forgive you anything
when you feed me like this
fingertips still stained from chopping,
bright red as you place the plate
onto the wooden bar
I have survived this long by letting go
I imagine you slicing the summer berries
their sweet scent sluicing out
onto the cutting board, onto the sharp blade
coaxing and oozing delicious pleasure
I know something about amends
How you thought of me as you cubed
cold salted butter
how you pressed firm
cutting it into the pastry flour
white as white as my flesh
how sticky forgiveness is
whipped into soft sweet peaks
of absolution
feed me and
I will pardon you
it’s in the layers
it’s in the labor
love
Kasey, so glad you came to Open Write! It’s a mini Verselove every month. This is lovely. Even though your delicious and sensory description of strawberry shortcake preparation would have been a great poem in itself, the italicized lines and those final three lines are everything for adding so much depth. Love the alliteration in “layers, labor, love”
“Forgiveness” and “absolution” is blended into the cream whipping here
“how sticky forgiveness is
whipped into soft sweet peaks
of absolution”
love the mixture of emotions with the shortcake making. Denise pointed out alliteration and I love this one: “sweet scent sluicing”.
great poem, thanks for writing!
Kasey, this is a lovely description of showing love through making and sharing of food as well as forgiveness in those powerful italicized lines that are woven into your poem. This is a great poem.
Kasey, so glad you’re here today. Your poem is incredible! I love the way you incorporate baking details in this piece and especially the butter part. Your end is lovely.
Welcome, Kasey. I am struck by the look of your poem and the use of text features in the font that had me lingering a bit before I found the “sticky forgiveness” and the “sweet peaks/of absolution”. Wow. Just wow there.
Welcome, Kasey! Keep coming back! This is gorgeous writing. I can see and almost taste because of your rich imagery!
Oh this is so striking. On the one hand, FOOD. On the other hand, pain. Wow. Thinking about this one for a minute. Thanks for sharing.
Kasey,
This is simply delicious.
Love the alliteration:
and the word “sluicing” is so unique and apt.
Fantastic job merging the literal and the metaphorical and making them both so appealing.
I forgive you for making me crave strawberry shortcake.
And thank you for bringing back a memory of my grandmother baking it.
Sarah, I’m glad to be back here today. I think of all the possible poems I could have written today, including the humorous over-the-top apologies like your fun pea apology. I love the description of your partner’s precision in preparation of food. I will surely come back to this prompt, but I have had one apology on my mind lately. This poem was also inspired by C.O.’s this morning, as I am a notorious “sorry, not sorry” apologizer.
One Change
What if I would have learned
to mean it when I say, “I’m sorry”?
I would not apologize
for you stumbling over the rug, or
for me not having enough oranges
for us each to have one,
for flippantly using those words,
“I’m sorry” to mask conflict.
I would have saved “I’m sorry” for
the big things—like not giving
you space for being your whole self
and for moving you across the country
when you were in tenth grade.
What a lovely striking poem. You touch on how hard choice can be and how quick we judge circumstance as carelessness. I found this poem extremely touching and thought provoking. Thank you for sharing.
Wow, Denise.
“for moving you across the country
when you were in tenth grade.”
—memories from my own life, different roles.
Beautiful. Totally agree with learning the power and when to use the “I’m sorry”(ies). I really try not to apologize for things that women often take the brunt for – like using the restroom or forgetting or being late. It is a hard habit to break! Powerful last stanza that stings. Hugs.
Denise, your poem clearly hits those of us who use the “sorry” word regularly when it is really not need at all! I am definitely guilty of that one! Your last line, “moving you across the country when you were in tenth grade” is also a striking reminder of the differences in minor inconveniences and major “stuff.”
Denise, the power of reflection here is so strong in the ifs and the reasons for apology. I love the weight you give to the reasons for I’m sorry – the big things that were choices and not random circumstance. This is a deep ocean that begs reflection – and I’m swimming in the waters!
Ooof, Denise, I love your poem. That last stanza is powerful and provocative. Saving the “I’m sorry” for the big things is indelible! Thanks for sharing your incredible craft today!
Oh, Denise. Oh, Denise. “I would have saved” and “like not giving/you space for being your whole self”. I feel this as an echo to my poem in the ways we notice “whole self” in scenes, in history, in reflection. And I wonder what the echo to your poem would be from your past tenth grader.
My husband read my poem today — he gets the newsletter but had told me in the past he doesn’t read them. It was something to have him wake me with a pun about peas only to see my confusion. They we had a “nice” chat about being our whole self.
So much said in so few lines – how do you do it? Brilliant! Write another one for all those people who say “I’m sorry” like it’s a ‘comma’, who say ‘I’m sorry because I breathe’ – I would love to hear your spin on it!!!!!
Denise, such a powerful contrast in the two stanzas… How “I’m sorry” so easily rolls off one’s lips for the easy things. And how we choke on those words for the giant-sized moments that shape us.
Ohhhh, this is so good!!
I second all your emotions.
Sarah, your prompt stirs my being. I’ve traveled to my hometown for my sister-in-law’s father’s funeral, and last night we sat together in intimate conversation in a corner away from those gathered having conversations about anger in the grief process, and what lingers. My jaw dropped when I saw your prompt this morning…..Sarah must be reading my mind…..so thank you, friend, for finding the way into my heart today. I read your poem to my husband over breakfast, and we both felt the zinger poetry brings – – yes, yes to the peas and the (Pino Grigio for me) and the patience and precision of peas and the poetry. I’ve chosen a double haiku and a shadorma, blended, like sadness and madness, for today. <cheers> and thanks for reminding us that it’s okay to not be ready to forgive and forget
For Today
all lies, no mercy ~
how can I choose forgiveness?
I’m still working through
things that can never
be replaced, lived out rightly
the way she’d wanted
perhaps in
time there will be a
change of heart
but for now
for this hour, for this moment
my soul can’t forget
Kim, that was such good timing. Your poem is rich, and I love the format you chose, and its description in your introduction. “blended, like sadness and madness” The truth in “but for now / for this hour, for this moment” is sometimes all we have. Thank you.
Ouch, Kim. This gets right to the essence of those rare hurts that cut to the core. You continue to amaze me with your thoughtful choice of form.
Kim, your poem has been with me all morning as I have reflected on forgiving and resentment and all the things triggered by Sarah’s prompt and your poem. I struggle with forgiveness as a total, absolute act of lifetime acceptance and (at least as of today) am considering the act of forgiving as a verb that I must/can revisit as needed. Prayers for you and your family as you navigate the grief and forgiveness processes of life.
Kim, I like how you break down the feelings in your second stanza to show your unwillingness to show mercy or forgiveness. I was completely drawn into your poem, and I especially liked your opening question followed by “I’m still working through/things that can never/be replaced”. Powerful and compelling poem!
Kim, I just love the truth, the sincerity, the acknowledgement that, yes, maybe in time there will be a “change of heart,” but right here, right “now / for this hour, for this moment / my soul can’t forget.” Yes! Thank you for crafting this!
Oh Kim, thank you for your comments on my poem. Even in your intro, I see poetry. “in a corner away from those gathered having conversations about anger in the grief process, and what lingers”
bringing up your sister-in-law pulls at my heartstrings. I don’t have a relationship with her currently. I know if I started the convo, she would probably give in, but there has been so much damage done to my brother, even if he should have done things differently too, I don’t believe all the things she did were justified.
anyway, there is so much to say. I feel your poem too. So much
I’ve read it more than my fingers can count now.
Oh, yes. “working through things thca can never/be replaced” — that is the crux of it. That is the grief of it that you capture so powerfully here. Indeed, “my soul can’t forget.” Wow, Kim.
“This hour, for this moment” spoke to me- sometimes even when we think we’re “over it” we can still react, have feelings, etc- I love this. Raw. Thanks for sharing.
I love that you chose ‘unforgiveness’ as your prompt. You have said so much in two stanzas – WOW. Your second stanza is a kick-in-the-teeth! I love it!
Thank you for the brutal honesty. I think there is a lot of mercy -for ourselves- in admitting when we are not ready to forgive. It’s outloud, not buried; named. Perhaps in time…
Genuinely excited to have a prompt in this community again! I’ve been writing about mental health this month for MHAM and this prompt fits perfectly. Thanks for sharing and for hosting more opportunities to write and read beautiful work.
sorry not sorry
When you apologize for
existing
breathing the same air
not being able to control rain
running out of napkins
not being perfect —
How can I take you seriously when you actually cause
pain
damage
harm?
Because
“I’m sorry
there’s only one flavor
of coffee.”
is not on the same tier as
“I’m sorry
I excluded you
and made you feel like less,
made you feel
like shit.”
Oof! There is a difference. Personal relationships sure are tricky. Love the title “sorry, not sorry.”
A simple point but a very interesting one that I don’t think I’ve ever thought of. How is it the same word used for two extremely different scenarios. The coffee and the exclusion are contrasted well. Thanks for sharing. Good to see you here again!
This. This. YES! The universal apology, spanning all the world to include the voice of coffeemakers everywhere and the grocery stores that carry them…..I get it. Oh, how this one speaks such truth, taking away the sincerity of all regret and compassionate understanding in a way that I feel your company.
C.O., wow. That second stanza, the apology “not of the same tier as” is such a powerful thought, and those last lines, wow.
Your poem struck a cord with me. I am that kind of apologizer. That first stanza humbles me. When I use the words, “I’m sorry” I don’t really mean them. I’m going to have to notice those words that continually flow. Your poem inspired mine this morning (again)!
C.O., boy, do I understand that “feeling like shit” part. Powerful poem and I love your direct, honest voice.
CO, your title says it all! There are clearly times when a “sorry” is appropriate, but breathing the same air is not one of them.
There’s little worse than the flippant “sorry” or the little “sorry” on the same plane as the monstrous sorry.
You capture the complexity of it so well.
Yep. I’ve been on the receiving end of this “I’m sorry.” You captured the indignity perfectly in your last two lines.
Sarah, Thanks for the prompt and the sweet pea poem. As a woman in a long marriage, I can relate to the separate nuances of food preparation and eating. My husband always opens the microwave before the thing he’s heating is done, leaving the number blinking. Who doesn’t clear it?
I’ve been writing small poems this month using Georgia Heard’s calendar of prompts. Today’s prompt was “an overheard sentence.” I looked back in my texts from my daughter who sends hilarious quotes from her 4 year old. She said, “Sometimes it’s hard to have eyes because you just stare and they get watery.”
I Hold an Ocean in my Eyes
Sometimes it’s hard to have eyes:
They get watery
at the worst times
overflowing
with feelings
Forgiveness
flows freely from
wild water.
I hate crying and this is a beautiful reason why. Thanks for sharing this short and sweet today. Happy to read your work this month.
Margaret. I am your husband with the microwave. I just put some sauce in there and I am looking at the :10 left. Even though he’s never said anything about it, my significant other is probably you, hehe…
a prompt of an overheard sentence is very interesting. I love the title! I love the “wild water” also. Thanks for sharing!
Margaret, your poem is deep and wild and wide and freeing. I chuckled a bit on the first line thinking it was going to have humor, and then I reeled in a fish I wasn’t expecting from the depths of your words today. Holy smackers!
Ah, Margaret, I love the idea of “wild water” Isn’t that an apt description of our tears. The alliteration in your short poem is so powerful.
Margaret, I love the title and the “watery” imagery. Your final lines are particularly powerful. Your granddaughter’s remark is priceless!
Margaret, your wisdom, stemming from the words of a 4 year old is profound! I am not an “easy crier,” but when I start, it flows like you suggest in your title, like the ocean waves!
All is this is great, Margaret, but
is just so perfect.
Beautiful title, Margaret. I think of salt stinging…and the release that those watery eyes feel when they are freed.
yay!! Pleasantly surprised to receive that beloved EthicalELA email this morning! A prompt with limitless options.
unspoken
my remorse hangs
in the air
like a fly
in a spider’s web,
the sticky threads
holding it and
restricting it
from being released…
entangled
in the intricacy.
there
wanting free
but trapped.
~Susan Ahlbrand
17 May 2025
Susan, I can relate to this feeling all too well. Your precise word choice (entangled, intricacy, trapped) works well with the opening simile.
Love love love this use of simile. I felt that fly the whole way through. Happy to be reading your work again, thanks for sharing.
Ohhh what a powerful simile. Every line works so well! Maybe someday I’ll get better at writing those. Excellent, Susan.
What a metaphor for forgiveness and stuck-in-it-ness. I’m there. I’m so, so there. Your poem says what my heart feels today.
Susan, what a perfect metaphor for the topic of the day. “sticky threads / holding it and / restricting it” So many more great lines in this short beauty “entangled / in the intricacy” Wow.
Susan, wow, your metaphor is developed perfectly through your descriptive language. Loved “entangled/in the intricacy”. Your title is perfect!
Oh, so happy to be with you, Susan. “Sticky” came up in Kasey’s poem today, too. There is a stickiness to forgiveness, right? Here with “holding it and/or restricting it/from being released.” Wow, that is a perfect metaphor.
Susan, your image of remorse stuck in the web unable to get totally free is powerful. It is true, perhaps for forgiveness and unforgiveness as well. It is hard, sometimes impossible, to get free.
Great simile! And deep. Much food for thought here. Thank you!
I feel like all I can say is exactly. Wanting free but trapped. You picked the perfect metaphor!
Thanks for the inspirational prompt and first line. I used it as a starting point for my own. I love the image of you eating your bowl of peas with the wine and poetry book. So comforting even if it burned your mouth. Also, “eat separately” is very interesting.
I wonder what you saw in me when
You looked at me in the morning
I was there on occasion, not always
A few months of a year
Less after your parents divorced
I wonder what you see in me now
Since I stopped coming around
I wonder if there are any photos
Of me in your house anymore
Like the one in the bathroom
I could wonder forever what you
See in me now but I also wonder
what you see in your father,
my brother, no longer in your life
I wonder what you think when you
Think of him. I feel guilty for even
Wondering about myself, when
You and him are not allowed to see
One another. All I can do is wonder
I wonder what there is to forgive
His choices, your mother’s choices
My choices. As time passes it just
Builds and builds and builds
And builds and builds and builds
Then what?
Angie, using anaphora of I wonder helps to build up the strong feelings in your poem. I can relate to “I feel guilty for even wondering about myself”. What can we do? We are all looking inward to what we feel. When it comes to forgiveness, there is the build up of time and is it too late? Resolutions are difficult.
Angie!!! I could have written this – same people, feelings, words. This one hits home in big ways……(I’m in my hometown today for a funeral for a sister-in-law’s father, and the reliving of the wounds is open and on display for all to see). I understand the reason for sunglasses at funerals on days like today. It’s not just tears that need hiding…..and I don’t have a card player’s face…..it’s all the remorse, the regret, the need for people to come to terms with the pain they’ve caused from their own selfish choices…..and I stand wondering here today, too. Love that line….I could wonder….I could wonder…..
Angie, this is so heartbreaking. It shows the collateral damage of broken relationships. I have those losses from divorces in my family. People we stop seeing because of choices of others. And sometimes choices made by us. You have captured so much here. The repetition of “Builds and builds…” is very powerful, the walls built up over time.
Angie, oof, that painful building is explosive. The wondering details show so much here and especially the difficulty often faced with significant relationships that are ended due to divorce, etc. Powerful, poignant and compelling poem!
Angie, your ending is so powerful! I love the repetition of all the “builds” following the wondering of all the choices: “All I can do is wonder / I wonder what there is to forgive / His choices, your mother’s choices / My choices. As time passes it just / Builds and builds and builds / And builds and builds and builds / Then what?” Great question!
Angie, the italics, the slant here does something in the movement as I read your words. I feel it in the “wonder” repetition and in the “time passes” and the “builds and builds and builds.” I am moved.
Angie, your repeated use of the word “choices” in the last stanza is the reminder of the pain created by “relationship choices” that individual make. One choice sets off a cascade of emotions and changes that “build and build and build.” It gets harder and harder over time to both show regret and to offer forgiveness. I wish you peace amid the chaos of family decisions.
Oh wow Angie. I have no words. This is so direct and painful. I wish you and all parties healing. But this is such a brave piece. Thank you for sharing with us. Wow.
Such an anguished tangle of holding on and letting go in your words. I can feel myself ache for the speaker and for who they speak to.