Emily lives in Vinalhaven, Maine, an island 15 miles from the mainland, where she teaches middle schoolers science and ELA at the Vinalhaven School. Emily believes in student voice and choice, and making connections to our world. She received recognition from Maine Environmental Education Association as an innovative educator. She spends her free time with her husband and 4 month old son, walking and looking for tiny things.
Inspiration
Today’s poem is brought to you by my shower curtain. And Earth Day.
In his book, The Natty Professor, Tim Gunn tells us inspiration can come from anywhere. My shower curtain is a map of islands that surround mine, with fantastic names like Fling Island, and Brimstone Island, and I started to daydream about these places.
It is also Earth Day, so perhaps you are inspired by the island of earth around you. Take a trip to a real or imagined island today!
Process
Remember an island: real, fictional, ancestral, or otherwise.
Find an island.
Invent an island you want to go to or want to avoid.
Or read Islands by Yusef Komunyakaa and take a line or word with you.
Imagine or describe a world there.
Free verse might suit you.Or perhaps a form will inspire new thoughts? Try a cinquain if you’d like:
Line 1: 2 syllables
Line 2: 4 syllables
Line 3: 6 syllables
Line 4: 8 syllables
Line 1: 2 syllables
Feel free to add or a subtract a syllable from each line. It’s your island, make the rules!
Emily’s Poem
Butter Island
Corn cliffs
Yellow cream shore
Cooling your toasted feet
Dip your lobster in the tidepools
Sweet land
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. 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.
Love this prompt, Emily! Thank you!
Island
No man can be
One. At least that’s what they
Say. But damnit if you don’t try.
Stop it.
Emily, what a great prompt! I was particularly drawn to the idea of thinking about a metaphorical island I want to stay away from. I probably don’t give a certain part of my life the credit of trauma that it deserves, but this gave me an opportunity to recognize that that “island” in my life existed, to recognize what is there, but to also know I don’t have to go back to it ever again. Thank you for providing this space to think and heal in such a way through writing poetry.
Title: Three are Free
You are
big and tough to
stay away — prevail —
from the cad who hides in bottles.
Live on.
St. John, USVI
Lay at the pool,
Look out to the beach
Water clear enough to reflect my soul
Walk to the Beach Bar
Where everyone knows your name
And wants to hear your story and tell you theirs
Eat a nice meal
Drink a fancy cocktail
While overlooking the water at sunset
Oranges, purples, heaven on Earth
Head for the light
While walking with sippy cups
Holding your best friend’s hand
Laughing, Being, Living
Island Hopping
Bacon
Passion Planner
Writing and Notebooking
Teaching, Reading, Peanut Butter
Coffee
All the things I’d need on my island. Or else, I’d need to do some island hopping.
Lol, Donnetta, I’d love to visit this island of yours! It has everything you need!
Hawaii
Cool breeze
tropic flavors;
playful days, restful nights
hike volcanoes, swim the ocean.
Rest well.
Late to this one, but got it done.
Thank you for the prompt — allowed me to revisit my Hawaii vacation.
Regret Island
May I
excuse myself
from seeking forgiveness
for the trauma suffered at your
malice?
Not just “may,” James, you should. I wish people who hurt others would think at least twice about their words and actions. On the other hand, if the Earth’s asking, we all should be thinking of what we are doing to her. Thank you for sharing
James – first of all, yes, of course. This to me reads like regretting engaging with someone who hurt you. I hear this loud and clear and I like how you worked with lines and syllables. Thanks for writing today! (Yesterday)
Happy Earth Day, Emily, and thankful you for hosting. I love the idea to write about an island, and I will come back to it later. I just got home, but wanted to write just a few words of free verse.
***
Hopeland,
a tiny island
in my heart,
that makes
tomorrow possible.
This is such a great poem. Simple yet bursting with hope and heartfelt emotion. This is the kind of writing that makes me love poetry so!
A beautiful poem, Leilya, just beautiful!
Leilya,
I love your poem. May we never lose hope. May we always look for the possible.
Leilya- this is so beautiful- no changes needed in my mind! I love the imagery and quiet courage present here. Love it! Hopeland.
Emily–what a wonderful Earth Day prompt! I tried to make a cinquain work–and figured out that I just had to let go of the form for this one–there was just too much color for a cinquain to hold! Your island life sounds amazing! I am lucky to live where there is access to beaches, mountains, forests, and desert–all within about a 2-hour drive, so I really can’t complain either. Butter Island sounds pretty amazing too.
Earth Day Explosion
On an island
Of waterless land
Framed by mountains
Colors burst
Like fireworks
Yellows riot
While purples dance
In the warm dry breeze
Shy pinks peek
Reds stretch
Tickling a sky so blue
Eyes water
The desert demands patience
Wait for water
For years if you must
And when it comes
EXPLODE
Show off
Invite the pollinators
Paint the earth
With a springtime
Superbloom
Blog version with photo: https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2023/04/22/island-earth-npm23-day-22/
Kim- so glad I woke up to see this today! Isn’t it amazing how colorful the desert is?! Thanks for bringing us to this incredible piece of our amazing planet. I like how you capitalized EXPLODE to show the floodgates opening here. I want to check this place out! I love how the colors are on the move in your personification. You’ve done a beautiful job of putting words to a sight that often leaves me speechless! Thank you!! Happy superbloom to you!!
Thank you, Emily, for this prompt! I have not been to Maine, but have longed to. Now I want to visit sweet Butter Island.
I was able to visit my oldest son during the year he lived in the Wotje Atoll. I have been unable to articulate in prose what the experience meant to me. Poetry helps, even if I’ve still fallen short.
I did
not know Wotje
Atoll, Marshall Islands,
until a wayward son moved there
to teach
“Teach” is
euphemism
meaning “shut up and learn”
so he did as did we that year:
Lesson/
Lessen/
a grass strip serves
to land the shaky plane/
days are purposed fishing for
each meal
That is
enough/ where
green/blues defy the eyes
and ocean laps a lullaby
Eden
What is
needed to call
a life a life? Scale down
to helping hands and loving hearts
Wotje <3
Wow! “where green/blues defy the eyes and ocean laps a lullaby…” I love thinking about the juxtaposition of Eden and scale down. Wonderful piece.
Allison, I’ve never even heard of Wotje Atoll! I love when a poem introduces me to something brand new! My question is how did this turn out for your son? I’m intrigued! I’ll never forget when my mom took us to Catalina on a sea plane (I was about 4 years old) and she thought we were dying! Of course, I have no recollection but she told the story repeatedly. Your grass strip landing brought that memory to me.
I love scaling down! I’m truly not one for excess!
The lines “green/blues defy the eyes” is so unbelievably beautiful I cannot even fully articulate my thoughts here. I’m just lost in there – the way one can get lost in someone’s stare. Wow – it’s just so perfect I love i!
Allison- I really love this portrait of your son’s lessons as he taught. I totally relate to this one and love the line “green:blues defy the eyes/ and ocean laps a lullaby”- the assonance in defy and eyes, rhymes with lullaby- really well crafted and I hope to take this last line to heart today! Thanks for this offering!
Hilton Head Island
salt air, first taste – home
the sea oats rustling dance, as
children wade in sloughs
we walk along a foam edged
shore on warm sand with true friends
This is such a lovely prompt, thank you. I’ve been to Maine and it’s beautiful, but I haven’t been to your island.
Orcas Island
The last
vacation we
took just the three of us
sea kayaking with otters and
a house with hummingbirds in droves
perfect.
Cara – yes to Orcas Island! I feel a wistfulness and a reveling in the beauty of these creatures great and small! What a magical place you transport us to! Thank you for taking me to this island paradise with you!
Cara, views, even within this
poem, are unbeatable. Thanks for sharing because now I want to see all those hummingbirds!
Cara, Otters and hummingbirds in droves! Lovely. I will now Google “Orcas Island”!
I love the surprise of otters and hummingbirds. Thanks for sharing a glimpse of this special place!
Emily, thanks for this inspirational prompt honoring Earth Day. Your cinquain is inviting and enchanting – sweet land, indeed. You sparked a childhood memory for me, so I relive it here in verse…again, thank you for this today.
Island Gift
On a chilly gray dawn
my family piles into
my uncle’s motorboat
we are all together
speeding over the Severn
the grown-ups have decided
it would be fun to have
breakfast on the beach
my uncle knows just the place
a little island where people
sometimes stop off
I shiver in the lifejacket
until my teeth chatter
I am starving
how long
is this going to take?
turns out the island
is only a mound of sand
with a bit of scraggly brush
In the middle
I walk the entire edge of it
while the grown-ups
are building the fire
the sun is up, golden,
warming my cold skin
the gray Severn
is now sparking blue
What is this island’s name?
I ask my uncle
as sausage links begin sizzling
in a pan
It doesn’t have one
I have never heard of a place
not having a name
Why don’t the owners name it?
No one really own this island…
it’s just a small place,
here in the river
I don’t know why
this makes me want
to cry
my uncle, turning the sausages,
squints up at me:
what is the matter?
It should belong to somebody
You’re right. I think
it should be you.
Congratulations!
You now own an island
my heart beats fast
because I know, right now,
that I want this island
to be mine forever
but
Do I have to pay for it?
my uncle laughs loud and long
(I will remember this
when the family
isn’t a family
anymore)
Since there’s no other owner
it’s free
someone is frying apples
the aroma rises
like incense from an altar
in thin blue smoke
vanishing in the breeze
I tell the island I love it
it whispers
that it loves me back
and I know
for this one morning
that I am the richest person
on Earth
I own an island
and it’s free
Fran, this is such lovely memory! Your poem beautifully captures childhood wonderment and confusion over the adult world, “I have never heard of a place not having a name”.
What a lovely memory! Your island sounds enchanting, especially with the welcoming scent of frying apples. This is a treasure.
Fran,
This is THE sweetest! What a memory to have and you share it was us so beautifully. I felt completely there. As vivid as the actions and descriptions and emotions are, I come back to your parenthetical, wanting to know more:
Fran, these lines make perfect sense,
“No one really own this island…
it’s just a small place,
here in the river
I don’t know why
this makes me want
to cry”
I love how such an eye-friendly poem tells such a beautiful and relatable narrative.
This is a wonderful remembrance! I feel like I’m on the island as I read this. Your uncle understanding the situation and knowing just how to respond.
Fran – oh, this is such a precious moment, told so excellently. Your story-telling of this moment is so beautiful. I love how you capture that sadness that children have at small things not being looked after (like mice), and taking responsibility for it. I also love this jumping back in time with “I will remember this when the family isn’t a family anymore.” Life takes us in those different directions, but it doesn’t take away this moment of warmth. I just love this memory poem.
Fran, you are such a poet and a storyteller. Wow. Each line pulled me into the next, and I swear I am on a little sandbar, paused on a canoe trip down the Des Moines River and I am again 9 years old. The imagery of the sausages / smoke was especially piercing for me. My camping memories–even if few–are deep and wonderful. You brought them to the surface, which is what I want poetry to do. Bravo!
Fran, what a memory, and your retelling of it is heartachingly beautiful. The sausages sizzling, your uncle’s loud and long laughter, and the feelings you had about owning this island–details that warm my heart. What a change from the beginning of the narrative when you were cold, hungry and disappointed and then the end when everything had changed because “I own an island / and it’s free.” (The part about remembering this when the family isn’t a family anymore is heartbreaking.)
Emily,
I love this prompt and your poem is so playful! I feel like islands are such unique centers of cultural production. As a Staten Islander, i know that we are all slightly off from the other boroughs of NYC. This summer, visiting my wife’s family in Trinidad, we ventured to the village of Paramin, high in the hills on the north coast of the island. The village has a fascinating history, and among other things, is the place where parang music–the very local Christmas caroling music of Trinidad-was born.
Paramin (an ode)
Hills rise
to meet the sky
a village of secrets
perch’d in clouds,
mines miracles, conjures culture,
survives.
Dave, this was a lovely anecdote, a poem pleasing to the ear, and a beautiful picture!
Dave, so much is packed in these short lines. This beautiful place beckons from the photo and your verse. A village of secrets – so compelling, as is mining miracles and conjuring culture. Survives…a singularly powerful word, full of story in and of itself. Every word is so perfectly placed.
Even without the picture your poem evokes a beautiful one in my head. You really made those syllables count today!
Dave – thanks for taking me to this magical place! I love “a village of secrets/perch’d in clouds” – it sounds so magestic and mysterious. I wonder about the final line in “survives” – but it’s all part of the mystery. Also, I hadn’t heard about parang music before, which led me to a fun YouTube venture! Thanks also for including this image- wonderful!
Dave, I see six distinct layers in your photo: breathtaking.
Your poem exudes in a mere 25 syllables both the beauty of, and depth of feeling you have for, Paramin. I want to visit (to be?) a “village of secrets perch’d in clouds.”
What a dreamy view, Dave! I love the idea of “a village of secrets” because I often wonder what I don’t know about new places I visit. Some things are saved secretly forever. Ahhh, I just love this!
Dave!! My husband is from Trinidad! I visited last summer and will return again this summer (but a shorter trip unfortunately). We never got up north like this but ohhh those views, everywhere even parts of the city. I hope I get to be there for Christmas one day and experience all the culture and music but I did get a slice for Christmas in July lol. Thanks for sharing! I love “conjures culture” and I could listen to my husband and his family speak patois all day even if I don’t always understand 🙂
Angie, this is a trip worth making when you visit! Also, I definitely recommend the novel “When We Were Birds” which is set in Trinidad and makes reference (without naming it) to Paramin. Enjoy your trip this summer!
Thanks for the rec!
Posh Corps
Today’s Peace Corps volunteers are very lucky.
They have choices. They are prospective clients.
Where would you like to serve?
How can we best meet your needs?
How would you rate our service?
What departure date would best accommodate your schedule?
We were treated somewhat differently:
If you are lucky, you will receive an invitation.
You must quickly make a decision:
Yes, or no.
If you decline, you might receive another invitation.
No guarantees. How badly do you want to serve?
Here are the places we need people with your skills:
Poland
Central Asia
Micronesia
Thailand
Russia
The anxiety started to build. If I’m invited, where could it be?
Please, God. Do not send me to an island!
I don’t know if I can survive two years on an island.
I’ve never even been on an island!
I hated Gilligan’s Island!
Hindsight is 20/20.
Don’t get me wrong, Central Asia is an amazing place!
While I was there, I took a vacation to Thailand.
Then I met some PCVs,
and learned about the Posh Corps.
Lucky bastards.
Shaun, it sounds like you had quite an experience! The Gilligan’s Island reference made me laugh.
Shaun, what a life-changing experience. I hope you will share more about it in future poems.
Shaun – wow! Thanks for this window into what it’s actually like to serve in the Peace Corps! Upon looking back, it must have been wild to compare stories. I laughed at your last line! Ah, the Posh Corps. Thanks for sharing your adventure and perspective today!
Emily, I just finished a book that takes place in Maine yesterday! What a coincidence. Thanks for sharing your inspiration and poem. I would love to visit someday!
Fireplace Island
water
barely covers
the sandbar. from the shore
it looks like you are walking on
water
Rachelle, I love the name of this island! I can imagine the impression of people walking on the water and the awe it surely inspires.
Rachelle, great island name. I would love to visit Fireplace Island. It would be fun to look like I was walking on water.
Rachelle – ooh! I love this image of the walking on water-shimmering sand to a tidal island! How fabulous! I want to look this place up now. Thanks for sharing this snapshot of everyday magic with such grace and beauty!
Love the name of the island. New to me. Love the idea your words paint of water barely cover(ing) the sandbar and from the shore looks like you’re walking on water. 🙂
I love this image/illusion of walking on water!
I love places like this where you look like you can walk on water. Fireplace Island must be quite a place.
Rachelle,
It is wonderful how so few words can still paint a vivid picture. I love the illusion of walking on water.
Rachelle, dear poet friend.
Your poem is brief, but I felt in it a reckoning. Maybe “walking on water” is an illusion. Sending love.
Emily – I love the butter island! I always imagined islands in bowls as I mixed baking ingredients as a kid.
I did some research about the Napali Coast (Kauai) & took phrases from different internet pages for my poem. I was going to post a picture, but none of them seem to do justice to the majesty of this coastline (although it’s been almost 10 years since I’ve seen them in person – so just going by memory!)
Napali Coast
Ridges:
seventeen miles
long, soaring four thousand
feet into the sky. Emerald
cathedral.
Untouched:
no roads connect,
viewed only by boat, plane
or strenuous hike. Natural
splendor.
Mother:
millions of years.
Sea surf pounds lava rock,
landslides chip, water rushes down,
carving.
Teeming:
Thirteen hundred
native flowering plants;
dolphins, turtles, tropical fish–
Eden.
Rachel, thanks for taking me on this mind vacation. I love the reminder in every poem of the beauty of land untouched and what mother nature is capable of. I especially delighted in that third stanza.
Rachel, interesting. It was on the island of Kauai, visiting the local historical museum, that I learned about the significance African presence in Hawaii and on other Pacific Rim Islands that I allude to in my poem?
While in Hawaii, did you also the Polynesian Cultural Museum n Oahu? The pictures there are quite revealing!
Anyway, thanks for reviving this memory of this glorious island!
Rachel – I found a lot to admire in this found poem! I like your idea of finding words in research and will totally borrow that idea if and when I do this prompt with students! I love how your one-liners at the start and end of each stanza could be a poem in themselves – they pack a punch in describing the wild beauty of the Napali Coast! My favorite is your third stanza, perhaps it is the geology lover in me, but the idea of the time passing to create the island is fantastic. I can just hear the sea surf pounding lava rock – elemental beauty! Thanks for taking me back!!
Rachel, I love the form that your poem took with each cinquain beginning with a word and colon. I especially love the last stanza.
Emily — I love this Earth day inspiration. The island prompt took me back to 7th grade field trips in which we took our students to Ohio State University’s Stone Lab research lab on Gibraltar Island.
Gibraltar Island
Observe
rock formations
and island glacial grooves
a migratory corridor
Observe
Phytoplankton
Macroinvertebrates
Cruise the lake on research vessel
Small changes leave indelible marks
These field trips had to be the favorite of the students’ year, I bet. Such rich learning about our environment.
I love your cinquain – starting & ending with “observe.” Makes me think about how we observe, the impact of observing nature. I think it would be hard to stick to a simply scientific observation of nature’s formations and not be touched by them! I think they “leave indelible marks” on us, too. Beautiful poem!
Tammi, the specificity of the second stanza reminds me, once again, that science and poetry coexist so splendidly. I am impressed you fit “phytoplankton” and “macroinvertebrates” into your poem today.
Tammi- I love this exploration of past worlds through this poem! Totally fascinating to look at the micro and macro ways our world before leaves it’s mark. I like how your first stanza repeats the directive to observe. This captures the wonder of scientific observation and discovery. I love the idea captured in your final line that “small changes leave indelible marks.” Clearly this research trip left a mark of wonder on you!
I like allowing your words to imagine “a migratory corridor” ” phytonplankton, microinvertebrates” and the idea that “small changes leave indelible marks.” Thanks for your thoughtful words.
Tammi,
Geez, that sounds like a fabulous field trip! The repetition of “observe” was perfect–like a guide or a teacher calling attention to their group of students.
Island of My Dream
By Mo Daley 4/22/23
Island
of my dreams is
quiet, remote, peaceful
my own sea of tranquility
surrounds
Island
of my dream is
Wine! Friends! Games! Parties! Fun!
Action! Adventure! Nightlife! It
exhausts
Island
of my dream is
full of pets, books, tea, calm
family, friends, church, poetry
my love
Island
of my dream is
the world I want to see
before I die- yes, all of it
my world
I want to be on this island, too…love the friends and books and wine and “my own sea of tranquility.” Just lovely!
Mo,
Save me a spot! I long to be there someday!
I love the contrast between your different descriptions – from tranquil & peaceful, to exciting, fun, exhausting. We want it all, right??
Mo, this is an island worth dreaming about! Or, rather, islands…all knit together as one, like your archipelago of vibrant cinquains.
Mo, this poem makes me smile in recognition of a fellow introvert who also enjoy socializing, but it does exhaust, as you say! I love the different islands’ unique dreams and how they tied together with form and style. These islands sound great- I want to visit!
Emily,
Thank you for steering our focus toward nature on this beautiful Earth Day. Your cinquain is so image rich in such few words . . . lovely!
Sanibel Island Paradise
seagrape hedges everywhere
royal palm trees
coastal verbena and sea oats
mangroves everywhere
little ecosystems
life both seen and hidden
shades of green everywhere
sandy creations everywhere
castles and mermaids
sinking footprints
mounds of shells everywhere
whelks, murex, junonia,
and my favorite, lady slippers.
shades of tan everywhere
milky turquoise water everywhere
churning waves and surface calm
dark and murky; clear and pure
azure sky everywhere
puffs of white adorn
the sun meeting the water at the horizon
shades of blue, red, and orange everywhere
birds everywhere
herons perching and pelicans wading
sandpipers and snowy plovers beach pecking
marine life everywhere
hoping to spy a manatee or dolphin
sea turtles and their ubiquitous nests
crawlers everywhere
salamanders and lizards dart past
wary of the alligator
animal life everywhere
people everywhere
like-minded Midwesterners
in search of sun, golf, tennis, and food
warmth everywhere
not just in degrees
but in friendliness
comfort everywhere
a vacation spot but now
home away from home
relaxation and activity everywhere
enter Ian . . .
Mother Nature makes
Mother Nature maintains
Mother Nature mangles
chaos everywhere
~Susan Ahlbrand
22 April 2023
I know someone on Sanibel, and know how “Mother Nature mangles” through Ian…I have never visited. The “little ecosystems” sound so beautiful. It will repair, recover, rejuvenate, I hope.
Susan, I have visited Sanibel in years past – just as picturesque and vibrant as every image you give us. The repetition of “everywhere” gave your poem a heartbeat rhythm to the heart-stopping end. Of your poem, that is…here’s to ongoing overcoming and healing for the island.
Susan- oh to visit this island! I love your reveling in the natural scene and cataloguing all that you see in category and color. You build up a lush and vibrant community, which makes the ending with Ian heartbreaking. We must look after these wild beauties. Thanks for this heartfelt sharing of your special place.
Susan, I love each detail of the ecosystem that you include—your poem reminds me of why islands can be so special with the intersection of so many systems. With the recent tornado here, I was also reflecting on the chaos that nature inflicts that in some ways creates or allows for the calm. Thank you for the reminder.
Greetings Emily,
Thank you for today’s inspirational prompt and your mentor poem. I want to be there! Sounds gorgeous and relaxing.
I have had my mind on Jamaica lately. I realized after finishing that it wasn’t quite a cinquain but it still delivers the message.
Let’s go
find ourselves free
to swim, sleep, eat, repeat
Montego Bay welcomes us home
Ya Mon
ⓒStacey L. Joy, 4/22/23
Stacey,
Every time you mention Jamaica in a poem, I’m ready to pack my bags and snag some Caribbean life.
Jamaica! Love the “Ya Mon” final line. How I would love to visit Jamaica one day.
I can hear the music in your lines, Stacey! Makes me want to dance.
Stacey- oh yes! Thank you for this lovely offering- I love that the first line invites and the second line is broken at just the right spot. Your ending is just spot on and mirrors the start just perfectly. Mmmm, vacation mode. Thanks for this gem today!
Stacey, your poem is the perfect invite to a wonderful respite! Loved “to swim, sleep, eat and repeat”. Gorgeous poem!
Stacey, Montego Bay sounds wonderful. I love the idea of the Bay welcoming you home! “to swim, sleep, eat, repeat” sounds perfect!
Stacey, this is pure Joy! 🙂 I love the line “to swim, sleep, eat, repeat”! So good!
Catalina
Twenty
miles from the shore
So close I can see you
Lights glimmer yet so far away
Longing
Thanks, Emily, for making me dream today of one of my favorite places. Now I will have to take the ferry and go! Your island sounds beautiful. Being from California, I wonder how your winters are on Butter Island.
Hi Susan,
Your poem reminds me of the many trips to Catalina when I was younger. It’s been years! Thank you for this lovely reminder.
I hear the wistful longing. Love the line “Lights glimmer yet so far away.”
Susan- go for it! I love the wistful tone in this wish for island escape! I love the tangible longing of the lights glimmering close enough to see! Winter can be magical…. And long with only one restaurant to chose from!! I hope you get to explore soon.
Susan, I love Catalina, too. Your poem shows your desire and longing for this special place. Do you live close by so you can get there soon?
Mother Nature’s POV
It seems
to me
somedays
(today
being one
of them)
that if you
want
a planet
to not only
survive
but to
thrive
you simply
have to
just
take
away
all
the
people.
______________________________________________________
Emily, thank you for the prompt today! Your mentor poem was so fun (and the “dip[ping] your lobster in the tidepools” line so unexpected that it elicited a bark of laughter from me). I intended to honor the syllable count when I started drafting, but later drafts of “the thing” took me someplace else – my island, it seems, is a place filled with incomplete drafts, like some kind of island of misfit toys, an island of snatches of passages from abandoned poems ….oh, wait, that’s actually a good idea [grabs journal]…lol.
Yes, Kevin, yes! I wholeheartedly agree! Let’s get rid of the people! 💙💙💙💙
So sorry, Scott! My brain farted. 💨
Having that kind of week Scott? Well, we can get away in our poetry writing. But, no; we’re supposed to comment on at least three others who’ve posted. So much for taking away all the people.
Other than that, your poem resonates with the messages from some of the TREE HUGGERS who seem to want us to enjoy nature as long as we stay away from it.
Scott,
You’ve captured my feelings for the week. And your comments are a prose poem all by themselves, lol!
I often say, mother earth will survive. We probably won’t be here, but mother earth will.
Scott- I love where you went here! Yes, we seem to be the only creatures that are causing such harm. If only the people with ideas to allow nature to help heal would get more say! I like that you broke free of syllables and just said what you wanted to! I’m here for it!! Go wild- it fits the message!
Truth, Kevin! As usual!
Duh! I saw Kevin out of the corner of my eye on Stacey’s response and followed suit.
Scott . . . you keep being Scott!
Scott,
A narrow poem only in shape. Thank you for dropping a truth bomblet on us. 🙂
Thank you, Emily, for today’s island inspiration. Your own poem, vivid with sensations, brought me great joy this morning. I took your advice and read Yusef Komunyakaa’s poem and one word stood out.
archipelago
a chain of islands
according to colleen west
“trauma memories exist in chains”
a chain of trauma
an archipelago
Shelly, I just love this word archipelago and even more so thinking about chains. I kind of think of us, here, as an archipelago.
And then this chain of traumas is profound, to think of the ways we carry the past in our bodies.Thank you for making this chain, this connection of metaphors for me today.
Peace,
Sarah
P.S. loved seeing you yesterday but preferred having a little lunch with you at OU the month before in person because I can feel your spirit better that way; you are a lovely human.
Sarah, it’s always a joy to see you, on Zoom, in this space, or in person. Like you, my preference would be in person. 🙂 Thank you for your kind words.
Oohhhh, Shelly! I didn’t expect the shift to trauma! Isn’t it incredible how the brain and body “keep the score” of our traumatic experiences! This poem is brilliant! I’m wondering if exploring my own trauma chains would be revelations I’ve been needing.
Shelly, thank you!
I just flashed on The Gulag Archipelago (required reading in my Russian literature college class)…never thought about its connection to ‘a chain of islands’ – wow! Excellent poem. “Trauma memories exist in chains” – so true, so unending a chain, sometimes.
Shelly- yes to this. An archipelago of connections between traumas, a chain to break free from. I’m impressed with how few words you needed to get to the heart of your poem. This resonates with me, and I imagine many other readers today. Many thanks for the direction you took us today.
“a chain of trauma” struck such a powerful chord in me. I (think) I fully understand what you mean, and yet I don’t think I could ever explain it in any meaningful way. Your words mean a lot to me – thank you for sharing this.
Emily, how magical your place sounds. Butter Island sounds delicious! Very clever poem. I loved this prompt–so simple, yet so expansive in what it can yield. I’m bookmarking this one to come back to it. For today, I was looking out my window at a small mountain I often hike around, and I thought of it as an island of serenity.
yard peak
Abel’s Mountain
walk about, lose worries
breathe promise of hushed holiness
crag cay
Denise,
Lovely photo. I’m picturing you on a hike, meditating in the hush of nature.
Denise,
My heart ached a little with a knowing beat with “hushed holiness” and appreciate this call to “walk about, lose worries”! I also like the way “lose worries” looks in print.
Sarah
Oh, I meant to mention, I got the phrase “walk about” from Margaret Simon in a comment today. She inspired me to take a walk about here today and in my poem.
Denise,
Beautiful picture and poem!
I want this!
This is truly an island of serenity. Your poem is perfect…love imagining “crag cay,” and walking here in the ‘hushed holiness.’ Just beautiful, Denise.
Denise- thanks for this lovely response! I felt the mountain magic through each line. I especially love “walk about, lose worries”- it’s symmetrical and pleasing to my ear and heart. Thanks for taking us up Abel’s Moutain and including the e picture! Happy trails to you!
Denise, I love “hushed holiness” – I know and savor that sense. I can see why, from this photo, you would think of the mountain as “an island of serenity” – I imagine it cannot compare to seeing and feeling it in person. So much peace emanates from your poem!
Denise, love the peaceful feelings your poem evokes. “lose worries” is what I love the most. Lovely setting and poem!
Denise, reading your poem with its soft consonants made me want to whisper so as not to disturb the blissful beauty you were capturing with your choice of words.
Thank you, Emily, for hosting today. I love the idea of escaping to an island. I chose to write a sijo today as I’ve been trying to practice this form. Your poem evokes such wonderful images. I need this kind of place and escape!
Island Dreams
Sultry sun, soft sand-toe-deep, cool waterfall, tropical breeze.
Heavenly, dreamy escape, sipping cocktails, cabana life.
When I wake, I see snow flying, welcome to my Midwest strife!
Barb Edler
22 April 2023
Haha! Barb, “sweet dreams are made of this!” So funny! “Cabana life” vs. “Midwest strife” is perfect. I hope your dream comes true soon!
Barb,
Ugh! I have the same dream and awake to the same damn “snow flying.” Make it stop! BTW, you tricked me. I did not expect that final line.
Barb,
I was immediately reminded of Stacey’s poem about Jamaica and her yearning for toes in sand. And then this heavenly dream that you to share (and so many of us I suspect) to be in a “dreamy escape”. No more snow for Barb, please!
Sarah
Shucks! Barb, I hope you get your dreams in reality soon!
I am all in! 🌞🌞
Oh no – not more snow! This is truly strife, Barb. I think I would have to have a little dramatic play – tossing beach towels on my couch, setting up a faux cabana, and making myself a cocktail…
What a twist! I think it exceeds shift. It’s shift times ten, twist. The expectation of all the warmth straight into the freezing snow.
Oh man, nothing quite so heartbreaking as the mid-spring snow! Ha! I love the alliteration of whisking us away to this gorgeous sunny island, and then brought back to earth. I just heard of a cocktail called a sijo- I surely enjoyed your creation today in its sensory goodness!
Emily, Maine is a state we’d love to visit. Perhaps we can stop in to see you and your students while we are there. In the meantime, thanks for the prompts. Had fun with this one, too. It’s interesting to see what memories the prompts evoke.
A Loan or Alone
It was the islands that brought us together as races
The DNA testing and photos show traces.
Sailors needed fuel or food and other relief
Yes, we know some of them left as a thief
Leaving their sperm and taking a heart.
But that’s not an issue on which to start.
Sure, islands can be a treat, a retreat from the heat
The heat of the weather, the heat of tension
Like the day I got in a fight and got a suspension.
Being an island could be fun too.
You do your own thing not worrying about others
Explore new thoughts limited only by your own druthers.
Others will come or to you messages send
Something about which to write or sing.
Being our own island. Hmm. Could be a good thing.
Really? An island? Who wants to be an island?
Who wants to be alone?
Unless, of course, we have
Strong access and our own cell phone.
I love the image you’ve shared, Anna. Wow, that looks gorgeous. I think your message is fantastic and I had to laugh at your final stanza. Yes, access to technology seems to be all important these days.
Ann, there is so much in your poem to appreciate and ponder. I’m thinking of reconciling the tensions of a painful history carried forward into our present, then holding that history as consequences and discomfort, as an island, all alone. I think your image, however, brings some hope and perhaps direction. Your archipelago shows that islands are never truly alone. There is something greater to be found in connection.
Shelly, I think as much “fun” and writing poetry and reading the comments of what others “see” in what we write. The idea of an archipelago is not one I thought of as I chose that picture. But… now that you mention it, it seems to be more meaningful than I anticipated. And the fact that you know about this island formation shows the value of prior knowledge for unlocking meaning. Gotta remember this in my next poetry lesson!
Anna, I just learned the word–for this poetry exercise! LOL! It’s a word I borrowed from the poem Emily recommended reading–I had to look up the definition. So it was all serendipity that helped me recognize a concept freshly learned–like the universe conspired to connect us. 🙂
Anna, first of all, yes to visits!! It’s amazing to share. I love how you consider the idea of islands as an opportunity to do your own thing, and that appeal, but the other side of the coin is loneliness. The truth is right there in that tension. I love that you include a visual, too, for another access point into your world. And also- I admire your rhymes as always!
Anna, you have touched on so many aspects of islands. I like your play on the words in the title. And, like Shelley, I like how the archipelago in the photo and your last stanzas about being an island don’t match. Like you said, no one really wants to be alone: “Really? An island? Who wants to be an island?”
Emily, thank you for the invitation to revisit one of my favorite places. I love the buttery imagery of your poem!
Chacahua
At night,
Lucid darkness
Waters ablaze as the
Plankton swirl among the stars to
Illuminate.
Laura, your poem’s imagery is fantastic. I especially love the way you open and close your poem, and “Waters ablaze”. Stunning poem!
Laura,
I feel like the look of this poem a lot with the capital letters at the beginning and minimal punctuation. Feels like the first word is a proper noun about and for Chacahua. I want to go there for the swirl to illuminate. Lovely sounds here.
Sarah
This sounds so gorgeous. “Plankton swirl among the stars to / illuminate.” I can feel the life in your poem, the wonder. Man, all these poems today are making me want to jump on a plane!! Thank you!!
Laura, the imagery of blazing waters at night with the bioluminescent plankton is gorgeous!! I am transported to this magical moment. I also appreciate a great night poem. It’s both exciting and peaceful- I love how it’s lit above with stars and below with animal life! Love this!!
trying to let your words take me back to that summer night – World Cup games and Mexico’s election, fingers ripple through the water – thinking about the idea of lucid darkness and plankton swirl among the stars (through our finger tips)
Happy Earth Day Everyone and thanks for the inspiration Emily! I’m going to use free verse today.
Tribute to Kona Joe
Kona Joe Coffee
their facility in Hawaii
is bliss on an island
This shangri-La
contains plants, coffee beans,
a view of paradise,
coffee plants with
purple, yellow and red
beans just waiting to be
harvested, roasted
and consumed.
Spectacular views
will have you reaching
for the sky
You truly see Mother Earth
in her truest, most utopian form
You’ll also learn the history
of the term
“A cup of Joe…”
Love your title and all the specific details that share information about Kona Joe Coffee. Your ending line is delightful! Very fun poem!
Seana, thank you for a window into a world I can only imagine. Your line, “Spectacular views will have you reaching for the sky” calls to mind the brilliance of the colorado sky in the Rockies, but I think you are at sea level and you have me curious about the sky there… and the history of “A cup of Joe.” Lovely poem!
Seana, I want to go to Kauai again soon. I miss Hawaii so much. Your poem is lovely! I smell the aroma of the coffee right now! 🥰
Sean’s, thank you for this your of a coffee plantation! You show us this visual stunner, giving us colors, history, process, and a little invitation to curiosity at the end about the cup of Joe! I will have to investigate! Thanks for this walk through paradise today.
Thank you for this Earth Day prompt. I spend my summers roaming between Ongunquit and Bar Harbor. Maine is a magical place! I’ve been thinking about how my students keep me young so I wrote this poem this morning.
Never Land
Never grow up
Never get old
Try on a pair of wings
Until you are dizzy,
Until you are laughing,
Until you fly free.
Never grow up
Never get old
Sprinkle some fairy dust
Believe! You can do anything,
Be anyone,
Go anywhere!
Follow your wildest dreams.
Never grow up
Never get old
Set off on a quest,
Sail off to adventure,
Vanquish dragons,
Conquer pirates,
Rule land, sea, sky, and dreams!
Joanne, what a perfect children’s poem. I love the Peter Pan feel to your poem, and your ending is superb: “Rule land, sea, sky, and dreams!” My childhood heart soars on the wings of your poem.
Joanne, what a sweet tribute to Never Land and Peter living the life. We can learn from him and your poem. Yes, we can “Vanquish dragons, Conquer pirates”
Joanne,
I love the repeated lines
”Never grow up.
Never grow old”
and the magical, imaginative ideas that follow with a reminder to always be striving for the seemingly impossible. I’m trying not to go gentle into that good night as I age.
Joanne, every child should enjoy your poem in a picture book! Vivid imagery that children and adults can appreciate. I’m so ready to…
💜
Joanne — Bar Harbor Maine is one of my favorite vacation destinations! I love how you’ve captured the magic of the landscape and the feeling of adventure.
Joanne, I hope you share this with your students! The message to stay young at heart is just exuberant and zesty in each stanza!! I especially like the idea of trying on the pair of wings for some dizzy joy! I am inspired to sprinkle fairy dust over all the kids I see – thank you for the trip to Never Land!
Emily, what a special place to live and teach! Thank you for this prompt.
high school senior
transplant
Seavey Island
living on naval base
raw winds rocky shores rough landing
unmoored
Oh, Maureen, such a sad time to be transplanted, isn’t it? “raw winds rocky shores rough landing” Ouch! So beautifully touching.
Maureen, I love how you show your situation as a high school senior. What a terrible time to have to find your way through uncharted territories. I feel that raw wind and the unbalanced sense in your word “unmoored”. Powerful poem, and your title sets up the entire message of your poem. Hugs!
Maureen, your words remind me of my brief stint as an Army brat–my HS years. “unmoored” is the perfect summary.
Maureen,
The thing about writing w/ you in this space and on TWT for so many years is we get to know a person, and so I recognize you in these lines of poetry today. I know you lived this:
“raw winds rocky shores rough landing
unmoored”
But today these lines speak to my heart as I think about all the learners and teachers and support staff at my school.
Maureen,
Love how the you’ve conveyed the sense of a high schoolers uncertainty through the idea of a rough landscaped. Taking flight and being unmoored really captures the essence of striking out on one’s own and leaving the nest and safety of home.
Maureen- yes, islands can be harsh and isolating. Especially for the tender high school senior, ready for newness, but needs something more gentle than rocky shores and rough landing. Man, my heart went out to this soul, and I felt yours, too. The final line, unmoored, is so desolate and Drifting. Thanks for taking us to a challenging place today.
I think that ending with unmoored is genius. The setting out on unstable feet, unanchored, kind of sensing the world without firm footing ~ it’s such a perfect description of graduating out into the world.
Happy Earth Day Emily! I had so many ideas I wanted to follow with your prompt this morning. I love the colors in your poem and the imagery it invokes!
For my husband-
My vacationing mind
abandons
Civilization
and visits an island
of favorite memories.
She wakes when
the birds chitter
to her
happily
like friends over
morning coffee.
She swims
beneath hushed waters,
with peaceful manatees.
She thaws beneath the sun,
watching one or two delicate clouds drift,
and baby turtles waddle through the sand.
But my vacationing mind
has a favorite hideaway on the island.
A place she visits most often.
She stops at every tree discussed,
as a moment to ponder life’s bigger questions,
every overlook admired,
as a moment to rest in nature’s expanse,
every trail walked,
as a moment to hold your hand.
Such special memories of this island vacation! This sounds like a very restful trip with so many words that invoke quiet/relaxation: hushed peaceful hideaway ponder… I love the “stops at every tree discussed.”
Wonderful poem. Especially love your last to lines. Cannot wait to travel with my vacationing mind. Thank you.
I can see you and your husband hand in hand walking together and pondering life’s bigger questions. Restful poem.
Brittany,
I love this image and the sense of calm it evokes
“She swims
beneath hushed waters,
with peaceful manatees.”
Brittany- thank you for sharing this romantic offering! I love this island of memories and places you visit that are happy, and the happiest one is shared. I love the tree discussions! It’s so sweet and real. Happy trails to you and thanks for this warm, happy offering!
Emily, thank you for today’s prompt. Your poem made me a little jealous if I must admit. I have only been to Maine once, and I long to return. It has been a long week, so my poem is not as “Earthy” as I would hope today. 🙂
Somewhere
not far away
retirement island
freedom to make my own schedule
some day
Love this – “retirement island” – not pure fantasy, and not necessary a physical island, I suspect.
Rita, I love your retirement island and may meet you there in about 5 years.
Rita, you’ve capture what we hope retirement will be like…free! Your message is well delivered in just a few words.
Rita,
You’re gonna love retirement island, not just for the personalized scheduling, but also because you won’t feel so many knives in your back—if you walk the right beach, which I need to learn to do better.
Yes, Rita! I imagine it to be magical! Perfect words to start the poem when we are so close to being there!
☺️
Rita- honestly- sometimes I have to remind myself how awesome it is, especially when we can feel stranded in winter out here! I just see retirement island and feel a sigh of relief for you, the freedom and openness. Thanks for sharing this with us today!
Rita,
“freedom to make my own schedule” — this sounds like the perfect island!
I share your dream, Rita! Some day soon!
Thank you Emily! I love this prompt because I love islands. As I child I sailed in the South Pacific with my sailor dad and Tonga holds a very special place in my heart. I dreamed about being back there recently so I especially appreciate this prompt.
I dreamt I was back in Tonga,
In a house full of children –
Hard at work and smiling.
Always smiling.
Memories float on the sea.
White sand and water as clear as a white-bottom swimming pool
covered in coral and rainbows of fish.
School children in uniforms,
Games of rugby.
Night fishing.
An angry pufferfish made me laugh,
then cry when I thought how he died for no good reason.
White sails fly over shades of blue
Hot wind roaring in my ears.
Empty islands lined with trees that reach out-
stretching their branches, touching the smooth sea.
Young children, carefree, row out to greet us.
We welcome them onto our boat and eat bananas.
Bananas that hang from our mast and are cooked until they are caramel on our tongues.
Men in white dress shirts and tupenus invite us to church, a funeral, a feast.
At church we sit on mats
Feet touching the dirt
Singing- we join the choir.
Angels float above
Mother earth hums beneath.
Saints surround and sing hymns to the heavens.
Tapa cloth cover the ground- like papyrus
Dyed and drawn with unhurried hands.
Fresh mats of fronds woven.
The fragrance of frangipani,
drips into the smell of the sea,
and butter-soaked octopus melt at the touch of my tongue.
Plates of sticky purple taro, coconut fish and sweet bread steam
from the oven dug into the ground
covered with leaves from the coconut tree.
Roasted pig with ears burnt crisp and grease oozing down its sides.
My sister cries of thirst.
A man sensing her need, runs to a nearby tree,
Arms and legs wrap around its trunk.
Climbing, like a caterpillar out of sight and back again.
Husking. A rock brought down.
Cracking – revealing sweet white meat that
drips onto the sand
spilling into her mouth.
Quenching thirst.
And Giving. Always Giving.
The Friendly Islands.
Tonga.
What an extraordinary travel opportunity you had, to sail the South Pacific as a child. I can imagine this poem even longer, a short book, really, inviting me into this travel and culture. This line is so dreamy, so different from anything I’ve experienced in my life,
“Bananas that hang from our mast and are cooked until they are caramel on our tongues.”
Emily- wow! What a fabulous sensory tour of Tonga! The octopus melting on the tongue, unhurried hands weaving mats, the openness and welcoming island. I am seeing this through your 8 year old eyes, just full of wonder and warmth. I love the smell of frangipani mixed with salt! Thanks for sharing this delight!
Emily — “The fragrance of frangipani,/ drips into the smell of the sea,
and butter-soaked octopus melt at the touch of my tongue.” — so vivid!
Tonga sounds amazing!
Thanks, Emily. I began by playing with a John Donne poem, but realized I was “Donne” with that rather quickly. Somehow stumbled on Aunt Rena (bless her heart). And I’m thinking about Maine, how I’ve only stepped one foot there (only one time) and how my youngest recently announced, “the wedding reception will most definitely be in Maine” (he just met this girl)(one can be hopeful). I will get there one day. Your island and writing invitations…so beautiful.
No Man’s an Eye Land, I See
~b.r.crandall
Sometimes
we caught pike
trolling a
1,000 Islands
in a two-person
boat motored
by prayer.
She’s scaled
fish stories —
a thin cigarette
always dripping
from her lips.
(Mom said,
she never inhaled.
She was a lady,
like Bette Davis)
She taught me to filet
the stomach first,
to get under
thin skin —
a red
& white
daredevil every
Christmas.
With binoculars
we tracked
daily ships
by their flags
for her diary:
logging visitors
weather, and boats.
The rhythm of her river.
A strabismus wandering
& crossing bridges
in search of Great Lakes
& Atlantic Seas.
What a beautiful memory of an independent woman. She taught you so many things (including the fact that ladies don’t inhale). A portrait of time and place…
Another powerful poem. Thank you. The imagery is so vibrant. I just love “scaled fish stories… the rhythm of her river…a strabismus wandering.”
I love the double meaning of she taught you “to get under /thin skin,” and these lines add to the image of your Mom…I perceive her as strong. What a fascinating diary, tracking “daily ships/by their flags.”
Bryan- thanks so much for this portrait of spaces between islands- this boat, this portrait of a strong, adventurous woman. I live these strong snapshots and then the zoom out at the end. Stunning. Thank you! And I hope your son is enjoying the ride!!
I love the way your poem makes me feel as if I am rocking in a boat. ” A strabismus wandering” is such a perfect way of describing the drifting across the lake.
Bryan, you deliver power in every poem!
Soothing!
🥰
Bryan,
The image of riding the boat “motored by prayer” made me laugh. It took me back to days on the family boat with my grandmother “cigarette always dripping from her lips,” but Grandma inhaled. Those memories are so powerful. I was with you on the boat and learning to clean fish. Wonderful images!
Emily, thank you for hosting today. I am intrigued by the school you teach at, how unique it sounds.
Shrimp (A)Isle
jumbo
prawn mounds, cocktails
Fibonacci vistas
ceviche hills, tempura paths
commas
Love that “Fibonacci vistas’ – I can see this!
Stefani,
Send some fish my way, especially those shrimp. I miss those little commas I don’t often get because my husband developed a shellfish allergy. I love a good food poem. I’m sure you know the poem “Eating Poetry.”
Ahhhh! The commas!! Yes, now I’m thinking of all shellfish as punctuation! (Scallop = .) I like how you turned the shrimp around and around and made it into a landscape. Fibonacci vistas makes me think of the beauty of the shrimp’s shell. I feel like this poem made me think about how food isn’t just a taste pleasure, it’s visual and imaginative. Thanks for taking us down this crunchy tempura path today!!
Loved this!!
Stefani,
Such an interesting way to create a visual island a personal favorite – I love every iteration you describe – makes me hungry for all of them.
Cinquain on My Trip to Hawaii in 2005
Thank you
In Hawaiian
Is the word Mahalo
Poi, surfing, hiking volcanoes
Splendid
Aloha Jennifer, thank you for sharing today. I love the beauty and calm of Hawaii. I appreciate your bold use here as well.
Beautiful!
Mahalo, Jennifer!
I love Hawaii and can’t wait to go again!
Jennifer- mahalo for taking us to Hawaii- I like how you’ve made Mahalo and Splendid boldened- I feel your gratitude for your splendid adventure!! Thanks for the voyage today!
Jennifer, what fun Hawaii must have been. I have never been there, but I love the image of the volcanoes and surfing.
Emily, I love what you get to do with your life! So jealous! And your poem made me hungry!
I took a line from Yusef Komunyakaa’s luscious poem and let it take me where it would…just a quick throw-down this morning.
To lie down in remembrance
is to know
each of us is a prodigal
son or daughter,
unmoored and lost
from our island home,
drifting but always
holding a seed
of memory, that
tiny spark of
near-nothingness
that will lead us
back home.
This is beautiful…each of us a prodigal son or daughter, unmoored and lost…holding a seed of memory…a tiny spark of near-nothingness…haunting but hopeful. I’ll be thinking of this poem all day! Thank you!
Julie, you pulled all the words that struck me as powerful in Komunyakaa’s poem too and you made them sing again! I especially love the idea of “unmoored and lost from our island home, drifting but always holding a seed of memory.” Wonderful!
Julie, I’m loving how you call this a throw-down. My favorite part is connecting the “seed of memory” to lead us home…so comforting!
“unmoored and lost
from our island home,
drifting but alway”
Exquisite lines. This idea of each of us a prodigal…
Julie- you took these words and reshuffled in such a beautiful way! I love this image of a seed of memory as a “spark of near-nothingness”- just a small moment can carry is home. Thanks for sharing this gorgeousness today.
Last year I read Daniel Pink’s book THE POWER OF REGRET. I have many regrets. Most involve trusting people I should not have.This week has been a regret shitstorm, a deluge in which I find myself regretting decisions I made years ago and this year that I cannot change. New teachers, know this: This profession will cut you and gut you in ways you cannot imagine.
Regret Island
looks back
zooms out / questions
poor decisions she made
*if only* counterfactual
moves on
—Glenda Funk
April 22, 2023
Glenda— I have spent a lot of time on that island, and moved on, as well. Not a fun island to occupy…
Glenda, I can’t state it better than Gayle. I appreciate what your punctuation emphasizes in your poem and the movement throughout in all the verbs. Hugs.
Yes, “if only” haunts and taunts. Great poem.
Glenda, I appreciate how you share snippets of your life, experiences, and vulnerability in your verse and narratives here and always. Your use of astericks around if only is powerful from a reader’s perspective. Thank you for sharing.
On a semi-related note of trust, have you read In Teachers We Trust? I recently started it, I’ll let you know if its worth a read if you haven’t yet;)
Glenda, I hear you. I’ve visited regret millions of times too. Best to jump in the power boat and push on. Need to get Pink’s book today. Thank you!
May your time on this island be brief! There is so much wisdom in “*if only* counterfactual” – there’s just no real value in ‘should have’…. Sorry this past week has been so foul.
Oh, Glenda, you have had such a tumultuous week. Your pain radiates in this poem. I can feel your emotions in *if only* . I need to read Pink’s book. Moving on past regrets can be difficult. Hugs to you. Wishing you peace today and always! Barb
Glenda, I’m sorry for your “regret shitstorm” of a week. How awful. Your poem does end with hope from “looks back” to “moves on” Peace to you. Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing your heart here.
Glenda- you make me curious about this book and I wonder how that work influences this work today. I like how you’ve played with punctuation and brought us through the island with strong verbs. I hope your stop on regret island is short and useful in some way to you. I hear you! This is not for the faint of heart.
I love the poem and all you say. But I also love “cut you and gut you” in ways you cannot imagine. Preach, friend! Preach! Regrets are many, and most years the joys outweigh them.
Your writing above the poem IS a poem!
Regret Island . . . who hasn’t visited there? We all need to learn to make quite trips there and not take up permanent residences.
Glenda, I’m so sorry to hear this! Your poem reads beautifully— and true—though. A fellow teacher and I were just talking about this when she said that whenever she hesitates to take a day off she remembers her priorities.
Emily, I look forward to learning more about your island life in future poems here. Thank you for this prompt.
Steel drum
Strokes transport me
To two years spent teaching
In a tropical paradise,
St. Croix…
How do you all get to spend your teaching time in paradise?!? I’m so jealous! The sound of the steel drum had me right there with you. What a beautiful opening call to read more, Katrina.
Jennifer, if you are 33 when you marry (like I was), you get to do a lot of things. 🙂
Katrina,
You snared (had to do it) me with “steel drums.” Love that it’s St. Croix’s culture that transports your memory.
Wow, You’ve transported me into imagining what it is like to live and work in St. Croix!
Ooh! St. Croix!!! I can hear those steel drums now. I miss those islands. You brought back great memories of the warm blue water, snorkeling and the sounds.Thanks.
such a great opening – I love imagining this sound. What a fabulous time you must have had, teaching in a tropical paradise!
Oh, Katrina, what a fun experience. I love this tiny snippet we get to see of your two-year teaching stint in St. Croix. You captured so much in 22 syllables!
Katrina- I also want to hear more about your Cruzan adventures in this poem that was like an introduction or teaser for a memory. What an adventure!! The auditory memory is so strong here, I can hear those drums echoing down a school hallway now!
When My parents moved to a lake for their retirement years, they build an island out of a marshy area on their property. This memory came alive for me on this Earth Day.
Island on New Castle Lake
There once was a bit of land marshy and mushy.
Then a big bulldozer dug deep and pulled up the muck.
An island formed by man, but “no man is an island.”
This bump grew trees, rose garden; beavers came, wild ducks, too.
Soon a daily great blue heron announced Peace to these
people–you can love and create, recreate, renew,
And see our earth as our mother with a fertile womb
awakened, ready, willing to procreate our home.
Margaret! “See our earth as our mother with a fertile womb” needs to be shared far and wide! The imagery and connection between birth and land and nurturing is perfect. (Not only for its beauty and as a reminder, but for all the womb regulators who happily destroy our lands)
Margaret, this is wonderful— the growth of an island, made by your parents, and the beauty they created. Glorious memory.
What a lovely memory ~ and what a gift, this reminder that we can love, create, recreate and renew! I’m holding on to that!
Love this! Can see that majestic great blue heron. Wonderful poem.
The glimpse of procreation that you provide in these gorgeous lines is amazing – what a place of respite they created. I love your playful wording here – “An island formed by man, but “no man is an island.”
Oh, my, Margaret, what an amazing feat by Mother Nature “with a fertile womb awakened.” I also love “create, recreate, renew”
Margaret- I love the picture you paint- you made this land come alive with the animals rewilding this place. I love the hopeful metaphor of the last two lines! Absolutely gorgeous representation of the forgiving world. Thanks for this Earth Day celebration!!
Having a little islandy place to think of mother Earth as a true mother, carrying earthchild, is a beautiful image.
Emily— wonderful concept and great poem. Butter is one of my weaknesses! Inventing my island and minimizing my words took some thinking—a good way to start my Saturday.
Short Time island
One hour.
Sixty minutes.
Thirty-six hundred seconds.
Not enough time to spend with you.
One hour.
Gayle Sands
04/22/23
Gayle! I love this idea of an hour’s time being an island. It certainly exists as such – isolated, concise. And “not enough time to spend with you” – all the things bundled up in that! Just beautiful!
Gayle,
This is so clever. Love the time specificity and the title.
I hear the ticking of this clock-like poem. I love this!
Gayle,
What a lovely idea and poem. Sixty minutes…although not enough time, it would be glorious to have that much to spend uninterrupted with someone special. Your poem will have me searching for some Short Time Islands.
Oh, my mind did another take on this poem. I saw a rendezvous between lovers that was too short. In any case, time is too short! Great poem of urgency.
Time is ticking! I enjoyed each second of your poem.
Love this! “Thirty-six hundred seconds” sounds so much longer than one hour…makes the time together sweeter.
Wow, what a perfect form for “Short Time Island.” Perfection in your use of syllables. I love this.
Short time island- I love how you played with syllables seamlessly here, and a poignant twist in the fourth line. I hope you get to spend good time with someone you love and make the hour count! Thanks for this sweet offering!!
Gayle, that’s how I feel today as I visit home. The clock starts ticking and I feel like these weekend trips are far too short for all the things I want to do in the hours I have to visit and enjoy time with family.
Emily, you have my dream job! An island in Maine, teaching English, and finding tiny things (and of course the feet dipping and tidepools of your poem)! The form became a playground and Komunyakaa’s line “an island is one great eye” sent me along a path I hadn’t imagined, but inspiration anywhere, right? Forgive the nonsense that follows. I merely played in cinquain sands and homophone seas today.
I Land
is all about
me, no worries about what is
taken from what I see as my own
island
Is land
meant to be used
by just those who live now,
the borrowers of this floating
island?
Eye Land,
this shared earth that
nature built, offers us,
the as-far-as-the-eye-can-see
island
Aye, land!
I see it now.
There! just within our grasp
horizon found, we’re homeward bound
Island!
Ai Land
home of the slow
three-toed sloth who lives high
in forest canopies, its own
island
AI land
our future land
where no one is alone
and yet everyone is their own
island
The master of wordplay again – I like “I Land” and “Is land” and the playfulness in “Aye, land!” Haha. I’m reading the last one as AI (artificial intelligence) land, oops if that’s not what you meant, but no I don’t want to go there. *cries* I’m so over AI. Thanks for the fun, Jennifer! 🙂
Yeah, that last one is artificial intelligence – maybe you can escape it on Mauritius Island?
I am so jealous of this. You danced through every version of island, and ended with the isolation of AI that may be our future!
I love this series where you play with “I Land.” So simple yet brilliant in its structure. I love the appearance of the sloth that we were actually able to see in the wild last summer in Costa Rica. I want to try a cinquain series. You inspire me.
“I merely played in cinquain sands and homophone seas today.”
Jennifer,
Your poem is a masterful sandy shore of wordplay. The second stanza is my favorite:
“Is land
meant to be used
by just those who live now,”
This question is metaphoric when I extrapolate it from the planet and consider it in context of places and moments that comprise the planet. Who gets to have and experience? Privilege decides, right? And that arrives in myriad ways.
Very clever, each and every cinquan stanza – wonderful wordplay with ‘island.’ I’m in love with ‘Ai land/home of the slow.’
Jennifer- thanks for accepting my invitation to play! How fun is this? I love the abstractions and wordplay you bring, while diving into some truths here. I love the old language of Aye, lands and the new world of AI lands and its potential for isolation. Thanks for the cruise through islands of thought, fun and truth!
This is the kind of wordplay that is just so fun – and I love seeing where your mind channeled you today, ESPECIALLY THAT LAST VERSE. Oh goodness. I think that now that everyone can write with AI here, there should only be the need for creative writing. We need to figure out how to leave a human fingerprint on everything human.
So genius!
Good morning Emily! how lovely to live on an island ~ and how clever your Butter Island, “cooling toasted feet, dipping lobster into tide pools.” Just perfect! For me the prompt became an extension of yesterday’s prompt and poem, Happy Earth Day!
Earth Island/Earth Day
One day,
a dream of sky,
the next our island here.
Step gently on the new sown green.
Bring peace.
“Step gently on the new sown green” is such a lovely line full of hope and beauty. A place you must respect. Thanks for sharing!
Ann, I love your offer to “step gently” and “bring peace.” I’m reminded of earth, what we should have done, and what we need to do.
“New sown grass” I feel we have little or now appreciation for all the new green of spring. Lovely dream.
Ann,
Your poem echoes the pastoral ideal with green and grazing sheep. Lovely.
What a hopeful dream poem. Yes, we must remember Earth Day.
‘the next our island here’ …oh my, Ann, this is gorgeous.
Ann- you create a very serene and hopeful tone, especially in my favorite line “Step gently on the new sown green.” I get tingles from this idea of stewardship and starting something new and generous. What a gem!
Emily, good morning! What a cool and unique poem for a beautiful Saturday! Loved your “Butter Island” poem (the imagery was so arresting and memorable!), and a little jealous of the beautiful place that you live in. The first place I thought of was an island that I recently “visited”:
Transported
I have
never been to
Isle Royale; while I
have been to Isle Royale (in
theory)
Because
the power of
Nevada Barr’s writing
is so damn good that it whisks me
away
To the
places that I’ve
never even dreamed of –
and that is the power of books:
Feel it?
Who does it for you?
Wendy, this is an awesome poem celebrating the power of books and transporting you to different places! Oh man, too many authors who do it for me. I recently read A Woman is No Man and Etaf Rum describes Palestine and NY so wonderfully!
Oh, Wendy! As a Michigander, Isle Royale is within reach! My dad has stories from his visit there in college that have both intrigued and discouraged (mosquitoes, downpours, lost return tickets) a trip. I love how Barr’s writing whisks you there (I’m going to have to find that!) and your last stanza is golden, especially those last two lines.
Neat that you are so close, Jennifer! I love Barr’s mysteries–totally hooked on them!
Wendy— love Nevada Barr and of this poem. The power of books to take us elsewhere! I move to Canada every time I read Louise Clifton!
This is the extraordinary power of books – and poetry, to visit new worlds. So beautiful.
Wendy- yes!! I now want to read this book and author, thanks to this lovely offering! I love the offer to respond at the end, too. Darcie Little Badger has been transporting me to the world of animal people in A Snake Falls to Earth, and it’s excellent!! I also like the metaphor of books getting us out of any isolated situation! Thank you!
Neat! Thanks, Emily, I’ll have to check them out!
Aaahhh, Nevada Barr – yes, the power of books is amazing for vicariously real travel to places we have never been!
Our Choices?
Why Say?
Mother, Earth Day?
Our Children need Always?
Pray! All will connect with to Stay?
Relay?
Boxer, thanks for this reminder of Earth Day! Love the rhyme here.
Boxer, our children need Always, indeed! I’m not sure they’re able to carry the weight of what has been left them. I pray (and act for) there’s a turnaround.
At least we can leave our good will 😀thank you
Boxer- I love the questions you bring up here… so often we make statements about the environment we’re leaving for the next generation. This reminds me a little of the playful wordplay on Dr. Bronzer’s soap, in a good way! Thanks for this Earth Day offering!
Emily, what a life! Teaching on an island. I imagine only the fun stuff on good weather days–but I’ll bet there is balance ;). I lived in Greece for a time. Island life was and remains part of the culture. I got to revisit some happy memories in my journaling this morning. Thank you!
Linda- wow, I’m glad you got to dive into some happy memories today! What an adventure…
Emily, thank you for hosting us today with this lovely invitation to think of islands and their metaphors for people and remote or isolated representations. I chuckled when I read your 8-syllable line – – literally and metaphorically it brings humor to your poem, whether it’s a lobster on a leash or an appendage needing cooling off – – it’s brilliantly crafted! I grew up on two islands – one in Georgia, one in South Carolina. I love today’s topic, because I’m back on St. Simons today spiffing up our rental unit here, remembering my youth softball league playing in the ballpark across the street, walking the village where I crabbed on the pier with my mother. It’s a perfect day to enjoy the island vibe with three out of control schnoodles who can’t get enough of all the salty sea smells.
St. Simons Island, Georgia
Childhood
Memories splash
Time-faded photographs
Redigitized to present-day
Beach walks
sea smells
salty schnoodles
savoring Saturday
still snoozing, sunrise sand dune soon
spoiled sons
Ohh the alliteration brings to life all those yummy, lovely things in stanza 2 “sea” “salty” “savoring” “Saturday” “snoozing” “sunrise” I want to laze around all day and enjoy these things!!! Nice memories and present day activities, Kim 🙂
Kim, I loved your fun alliteration! My favorite? The “salty schnoodles,” lol!
Kim, there’s something lovely in “time-faded photographs” as they soften, with memory and distance. Your alliteration (and the image of salty schnoodles) soothes and makes me want to find a spot on sand dunes for sunrises and sunsets – what a way to spoil ourselves! Your writing always invites, makes me feel at home, as if we’re sitting together, friends. Thank you for that!
Kim—salty schnoodles. Love this!!
All those s-sounds are irresistible, especially the schnoodles. I’ve probably told you before, but my dog is a schnoodle. He’s 15 but he still loves a frolic in the grass. He would love the salty sea air. Let’s have a writer’s retreat on St. Simons someday.
Kim,
You’re reminding me of Tybee Island. I know it’s not the same island, but it’s the same state. I need an island getaway. Love the /s/ alliteration in almost all the second stanza. Love imagining your schnoodles running on the beach. Your poem is like an old-time postcard capturing idyllic tintype memories.
Oh, the s alliteration of that second stanza! And the last line made me laugh so…
Kim, sounds like a fantastic place to grow up. I love all the sensory appeal, and your lines “Memories splash/Time-fade photographs”. These lines evoke memories well and add a musical quality to your poem.
Kim- I love how the two stanzas are divided by time- the memories in pictures redigitized as you spiff up for new memories! These places of nostalgia are becoming new again! I really appreciate the soft surfy sounds of the second stanzas – lovely alliteration!
Someday I shall visit St.Simons, Kim…I love the ongoing legacy here and the wafts of sea breezes emanating from your lines…as the famous Dineson quote goes, the cure for anything is saltwater: sweat, tears, or the sea. In this place, in your poem and intro…traces of all three. A mighty offering of healing, I believe!
Oh how all of those Ss make for such a lyrical masterpiece!
Misery Island
rests alone in
the Atlantic,
a tiny rock of
barren nothingness
save waves and
wind, and still,
she’s desperate
to go there,
by paddle or
not at all, and
to have me
with her, too,
for her ride
against relentless
time and tide
Kevin
(My wife and I started kayaking during the Pandemic — we did our first paddle of the season yesterday, in fact — and she has had her eye on this island called Misery Island, and I don’t quite understand the appeal for her, but I am game to be her companion. It’s not as barren as I make it out here in my poem, by the way)
Thanks for this poem and story, Kevin. I think “Misery Island / rests alone” is a great beginning to a poem and appropriate phrase for an island of that name and I like the juxtaposition of that with your wife wanting to go with you and not by herself 🙂 happy kayaking!
Kevin, I love the pull of something that mysteriously fascinates us for reasons yet unknown. We, too, enjoy a lovely kayak paddle – something about the water is just so incredibly peaceful. I’m glad you have your eyes on adventure, discovering a new place. Perhaps today is the day to discover Misery Island (what a name!). Pleasant paddling!
Oh, this is cool. It’s a description that puts me right there with paddle in hand…that temptress, Misery Island. I hope you share pics once you’ve arrived!
Kevin, I just love the double meaning here. Happy paddles this season!
Kevin, the pandemic created interesting routines, and yours is one of the good ones. I’m drawn toward these words: “barren nothingness save waves and wind” for the imagery it offers, and also to “against relentless time and tide” as it grounds and offers permanence to land against sea.
Kevin—I must admit that I read this as a sad metaphor for your relationship. I am so glad that this is about kayaking!
Ha — no, we are very happy!
Kevin,
Had you not explained Misery Island I would have thought your poem a metaphor for misery. It works that way for me today because I’ve had a week. And often in our own misery we drag others along for the ride.
I’m sorry if the island dredged up bad things from your week, and hope your journey forward is clearer sailing, Glenda
Kevin- I am with your wife- how can you not want to check out somewhere called Misery Island? I’m fascinated with the idea of people naming places in a forbidding way so they get the place to themselves! I also read this as a lovely spirit of coadventureing (if that’s a word!) that you would accompany your wife anywhere, which is beautiful to me! Also, reminds me just a little of a Scooby Doo plot!
🙂
We knew someone who kayaked there and she told us “a whole section of the island was covered in carcasses of dead seagulls” which didn’t do much for my sense of adventure to get there. My wife seemed unperturbed. But you are right — I’ll still go with her. One of these days …
Kevin,
This poem works on a metaphorical level as well. As the speaker sounds less-than-enthused to make the trip to “Misery Island” but goes along, as one does. I’m glad you chose to describe the “tiny rock of barren nothingness” instead of the real version. Very powerful!
On this
island is time
moon rests, sun sleeps, wind stops
sweet words resist tick-ticks of clocks
haven
And island of time! Yes please! I want those “tick-ticks” to stop so often 🙂
Those first lines go round and round, and then there’s the moon … lovely verse, Sarah
Sarah, I’m sensing an island bed here, resplendent with comfort of sleep, snoozing, that semi-awareness state of wakefulness that helps us fully appreciate the boundaries between sleep and awake before the day demands any more of us.
This is so gentle and relaxing, Sarah: Loved it!
Sarah, your words are a haven, a small bite of paradise, instantly transporting me away from the here to wherever this perfection is that you are. For just that moment, I went with you.
Sarah— I, too, chose time, but mine is much shorter and so much less lovely…
We can all use an island of time these last days of the school year. I can feel the clock ticking faster.
“sweet words resist tick-ticks of clocks” love this!
Sarah- I’m totally drawn in by this island that is isolated from time constraints. I really enjoyed the line “sweet words resist tick-ticks of clocks.” You packed lovely poetic devices into this line that have a lovely lulling effect!
Sarah, wow, the haven you evoke is absolutely serene. Love the resistance of time and how everything is resting. Gorgeous!
Emily, awesome prompt. I love the sound of “yellow cream shore” but not just the sound, the look and even the taste, mmm 🙂 Your prompt is very fitting for the move I’ll be making in August. Thanks for recommending a cinquain form.
Next home
Mauritius Island
Cocktail sippin’ sea views
A dream I’ve had my entire life
Come true
Cocktail sippin’ sea views
Now yer talking …
🙂
Kevin
Angie, how wonderful that you are living out your dream and chasing your dream ~ and even more that it’s now coming true. The cocktail sippin’ sea view makes me want a spicy bloody mary on this salty sea morning! Or at least a mimosa with an orchid resting on a white plate in the middle of the table. Go YOU!!!
Oooooh! You lucky kid! You’ll have to write a collection of sea view cinquains. I love that the last line is, ‘come true.’
Ohhh, man! Are you SERIOUSLY moving there to live?! So jealous! This was beautiful!
Ohhh! What a move you’re about to make! I love the soothingness of “cocktail sippin’ sea views.”
Angie,
Sounds as though you’re moving to heaven:
“Cocktail sippin’ sea views”
I’ll take that island time.
Angie- islands are a wonderful place to dream about- thank you for sharing this new chapter with us! I enjoy the line break in your final two lines- there’s a satisfying quality to that!