Our Host
Anna J. Small Roseboro is a wife and mother, poet and writing coach, and National Board Certified Teacher with over forty years of experience teaching students in middle school, high school, and in college, in public, parochial, and private schools in five states. She now coaches new writers and mentors early career classroom teachers and professors. She has self-published books in various genres. Rowman Littlefield Education has published ten of Anna’s textbooks for teachers.
The Inspiration
One of the ways we educators know an assignment will work is when we’ve tried it ourselves. Here’s one version of a collage assignment used at the beginning of the school year inviting students to tell me more about themselves. I used it when I taught middle school, but I’m confident it will be equally useful with older students in high school and college.
A mandala is a symbolic representation of a symbol in a dream, representing the dreamer’s search for completeness and self-unity. Rather than creating a collage with cutouts, we’ll be creating a picture poem.
Process
Create a mandala poem with metaphors that tell us which reflects who you are and/or hope to be:
A flower
An animal
A bird
A color
A person I admire
A place
A favorite quotation or “saying”.
If you’ve assigned a summer reading text, invite students to include a quotation from one of those texts. If you do not summer reading, assign a short story the day before you give this assignment. Invite students to quote from a common story. Or have students read together an engaging poem from which they are invited to quote a line.
Here’s mine incorporating the following: rose, panther, robin, green, Mahatma Gandhi, classroom “Be the change you want to see”.
Anna’s Poem
A robin scampered across the green grass
Chirping and singing with sass
Pausing to peak as though it were hiding in plain view
Just like I used to do.
The thorns on the roses protect it
Like I hoped my cool words would do
When I was having a temper fit.
When they wouldn’t include me, too.
A fleet, black panther streaked across my vision
As I ran track in college to fill my mission
To become a teacher so I could reach
And learn with the students I’d met on the beach
So in the classroom, I could be the light
Like Mahatma Gandhi says of the peaceful fight
“Be the change you want to see”
That’s what I’m still learning to be.
The next open write is July 17-21! See you then!
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Confused Raven
Mandala Metaphor
Confused raven sitting in the wind
unsure of which way to fly
safe is one way, adventure another
are you even willing to try?
Watching the birds in the neighborhood
the blue jays so loud and annoying
the doves contented and filled with peace
the woodpeckers sound is cloying
To leave or to stay is my question intense
To let the current just carry away?
Or stay attached on this branch that I sit
Life contained by its predictable sway
To stay where I am is no where at all
To go is a scary new matter
I think I shall fly, let the current direct
Let my life develop new scatter
Judi Opager
June 17, 2021
Anna, thank you for this prompt and for your steadfast encouraging presence here!
Metaphoric Mandala
The pastel, idiosyncratic snapdragon common to heirloom gardens
The chubby gray cat pleased to sit in companionable silence
The watchful barn owl whose imprint on another brings her joy
Not bright cherry red or luscious lime or frosty plum just peaceful periwinkle
So much her stoic Dutch grandma with wavy hair and subtle smile
Sunlit paths tread among thoughtful beds of roses and smiling topiary
I’m Nobody? Who are you? Are you – Nobody – too?
Oh, Katrina, I’m so happy this tab was still open on my computer so I found your poem! I love the “common” heirloom snapdragon and the chubby gray cat! By the time I reached your lovely ED final line, I was READY for it: the celebration of “nobody” who observes and appreciates “companionable silence.” This is a gem.
Before I discuss my poem, I just want to say how this Open Write has truly helped me develop as a person. It was definitely a challenging, yet relaxing task. It was rigorous to me, but this was my reward after reading book chapters and 17 page articles, making discussion posts, and responding to peers. This was a task I set time aside for. I needed this! Thank you!
The inspiration behind this poem came from the swallows who have built nests in my bushes and by my front door for what seems like the past few month, the color purple is my favorite color, and home is where my heart is. Enjoy!
The persistent bird building where it wants,
In bushes and next to doors
Stalking and waiting until you pass by to scare you lifeless.
The color purple, a royal color,
Yet a dainty fist in the eyes of admirers.
Home is me because it is where I feel the safest
Singing in my birthday dress licking my fingers,
after enjoying a coveted snack.
I want to be courageous, I want to be thought of, I want to be alone.
This is a lovely poem. I so relate to your last line–teaching takes my introversion to its limits, summer is recharge time. I adore purple, too!
Thank you so much! I can express the same sentiments!
Jess, this is precious! I love your poem. But first of all, thank you for those lovely words at the beginning of your post. I feel a similar way–this group is the reason I started writing poetry for anyone other than my students. I have become a more developed person. I can see that poetry would really help you relax after such heavy cognitive workouts.
This made me laugh so much! And it is the kind of writing where you tickled those words just so to make them kick up their heels and dance:
Beautifully done!
Thank you for your words Denise. Yes, poetry is something I really enjoy and even though I’m sharing here in this space, I still feel vulnerable. I’m glad you got a laugh out of my lines. And also thank you for my new phrase “cognitive workouts”. I will be using it frequently!
Jess, I missed some of yesterday’s posts so this is a late comment you may never see but I must share! I am in awe of the way this brings beauty, life, and self-care to the reader and in such a gentle way. I am afraid of birds so I totally related to “scare you lifeless.” LOL.
But the beauty is still there and then comes the courage of being YOU! Gorgeous poem and this is perfection:
I turned on the notifications so that I wouldn’t miss anything. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Beauty, life, and self-care….I never thought of it this way. This makes me blush a little. Thank you so much!
Anna and Denise,
With your gentle guidance, I wrote five poems this week. You encouraged me to think and feel, weigh words, and spend time probing my heart. Furthermore, each night I found myself GRINNING as I read others’ poems. What a celebratory, encouraging place this is!
Thank you, Sarah Donovan, for providing the good soil.
Thank you, Allison! It has been a joy being here with everyone after a long break. <3
Dear Participants, I concur with Denise. It’s been a delight to see how you’ve personalized our prompts in ways that show thoughtful consideration of our times, your personal lives, and our shared profession.
You’ve done so well today! so I say as we end this day
You’ve made my heart swell,
Some mentioned it was tough, I want to tell
You. “Good work!” ‘Cause you did so much so well.
It’s no surprise that some poems brought tears to my eyes
Some made me giggle, but none made me yawn.
What a treat to see your words and your clever poems spawn.
What a great week, but alas, Open Write is gone
But only for another month. See you back here the 17th of July
We’ll have a chance to play and to make our words fly.
Thanks so much, Sarah for inviting me to propose our writing prompts for this month.
Thank you, Anna! 🙂
Denise and Anna, thank you for your thoughtful words of encouragement and prompts.
Anna — just love this prompt and can’t wait to use it with students.
I am the Black Eyed Susan
late blooming into confidence and resilience,
after years of dormancy
finally, bursting through rocky soil to find the sun
solitude is sometimes still, but not always
my balm
I am a polar bear showering my
cubs both of my flesh and not with love
and protection
I am fierce when push comes to shove
So don’t shove
I’m a whispering forest,
where a cool breeze bends wildflowers,
and nature’s Zen will steady my rushing heart
even when dark caves hold secret fears
When sun peeks through cotton clouds
I am Disney World, loving the thrill of imagination,
a dancing child embracing
the magic of castles and fairy dust,
believing
“With the wind in” our “sail”
“there’s just no telling how far” any of us “can go.”
Line borrowed from Disney’s Moana
Tammi,
Wonderful poem.
Wow, how cool is it we both picked the polar bear. ?❄️ I actually have a tumbler that says Momma Bear on it. My kids know.
However this is my favorite line: I am the Black Eyed Susan
late blooming into confidence and resilience
Tammi, I love all of your metaphors that reveal the many layers of your personality. The black-eyed Susan’s beginning is so striking. I was delighted by the way you were able to show so many contrasting images afterwards from the polar bear to the whispering forest. Gorgeous poem!
Tammi,
This is lovely. I especially liked this line:
Tammi, this is adorable! I missed some posts yesterday so you may never see this late comment, but I will share anyway.
I especially appreciate the warning from mama bear! ?
This creates a beautiful image:
Thank you, Anna and Denise for these wonderful prompts. I hate to see this end and am looking forward to July’s open write.
Is a stalk of celery a flower?
Sturdy, useful. Make a bouquet.
Is the scent of rain an animal?
Trembling, feral. Run free.
Is the sweat beading on my lip a color?
Salty, earthy. Splash the canvas.
Is the sky a soul?
Effortless, exquisite. Teach me your ways.
Is acceptance a place?
Cozy, forgiving. Make yourself at home.
Silence should be quoted more often.
I love how you have used contrasts to describe rain, sweat, sky, acceptance and silence. Beautiful!
I love the questions and the playfulness with the prompt. I like the unique take on each little bit, and get a sense of delight.
Allison, there are so many lines that resonated with me, including, “Is acceptance a place? Cozy, forgiving. Make yourself at home.” Many times I am so hard on myself and feel unworthy, but I need acceptance in my life. I need it to take a seat and chat for awhile. But the last line deserves a mic drop. Silence SHOULD definitely be quoted more often. It will save a lot of people from humiliation.
Allison, wow, I love this provocative questions! “Is the sky a soul?” Love it! I need that cozy place!
Allison, this is fascinating. I would never have thought this…you are so able to pull amazing ideas out and lay them so succinctly in a poem. Each question is just really thought provoking. Susie
Gosh, Allison! This is a form I need to know more about. I love the questions with 2-word descriptors followed by an imperative sentence. It gives me a ton of information about you in such a uniquely beautiful way.
I could quote the whole poem but I love that stanza most.
Lovely inspiration, Anna! Once again, it was a very full day here, and I am only just now able to think about writing poetry. However, I did remind myself of a favorite quote, and then remembered some sweet images from my porch….
Thanks to you and Denise for the special prompts these five days!
from my porch
see the rabbit dash from under
the shed and across the yard,
freezing midway, imagining
no one can see her now
reminding of a toddler hiding behind her hands
see, too, the graceful mourning doves
moving slowly, foraging together
along the edge of the lawn
see how winter worked so patiently
coaxing sultry browns and faded greens
into all the colors of the rainbow
black-purple berries of mahonia
hydrangeas in deep blue
bright yellow lilies blooming only for a day
the Sanskrit proverb reminds
look to this day, for it is life –
the very life of life
Maureen,
Love the beautiful picture you paint:
“see how winter worked so patiently
coaxing sultry browns and faded greens
into all the colors of the rainbow
black-purple berries of mahonia…”
and the proverb is a perfect reflective ending.
Maureen, this is exquisite! I love the comparison of the rabbit to the child hiding in plain view! Your poem is a bath of imagery, and the final proverb is one I will put to memory. Thank you.
Maureen, so glad you decided to share anyway. The lines that so encourage me to hold on are
see how winter worked so patiently
coaxing sultry browns and faded greens
into all the colors of the rainbow
The lines metaphorically speak of the seasons, but also the pandemic and a school year! Wow!
Maureen, I always tell people I don’t “do” outdoors, but the view from your porch sounds serene! I can see the colors and the dashing rabbit (I saw one today sprinting beside my vehicle while heading to work and prayed I didn’t run over it.). But your last line, “the very life of life” made me think. I need to ponder on that to find out the meaning of my life.
Oooo, Maureen…this is truly “ooooo worthy”! I loved the rabbit likened to the kiddo hiding behind her hands — perfect! And the winter coaxing color….aah! Lovely and precise images. Love it. Susie
Another gorgeous poem that creates a picture I want to keep forever!
Lovely!
I love this prompt, and I already can’t wait to use it in the classroom! However, it was incredibly difficult for me? I think because I wanted to say so much and play extensively with the possibilities. I settled a bit because #kids 🙂 I look forward to continuing to play with my draft of this poem!
Passionate and charismatic,
I am the peony –
often told I am too much
[learning to embrace the space I take up]
Conflict-averse and people pleasing,
I am the dove –
chided for not taking risks
[pride in keeping boundaries]
Lined, dotted, blank,
I am the notebook –
labeled a nerd always wanting to learn
[eager to be poured into]
I can totally relate. I, too, have always been a people pleaser as well.
Emily, thank you for the peony. I really struggled to think of myself as a flower (settled on a stalk of celery!?!), but you made me think I, too, might be a peony: a steady farm perennial, and a bit much! 🙂 I enjoyed the form you used with bracketed counter-narrative. Bravo!
Britt, If Karma is true, you will be blessed by receiving the learning your share. Just as you “pour into” your students, you will be “poured into” by others. The beauty of the peony, the peace of the dove, and the possibilities of a notebook. WOW!
Hello Britt, this line, “Conflict-averse and people pleasing,” was me. It serves as a reminder for me that it is ok to be so uncomfortable with being more vocal about my needs and learning how to say no. I’m scared of myself now because I have no chill, lol! But this is my absolute favorite:
“Lined, dotted, blank, I am the notebook – labeled a nerd always wanting to learn [eager to be poured into]” an empty notebook waiting to be filled with facts, useless knowledge, and doodles!
Honestly? It was a tough day. Thanks for providing an outlet. I loved your poem and your prompt – thank you!
Owl
Outside, I am
wise, with
calm eyes
a shrewd professor –
perhaps you’d see me on a sticker
or selling lollipops.
But actually
I am quite solitary,
used to navigating my own
familiar dark forest.
I have discovered
my talons
and my soft whispering feathers.
Watching.
Muted.
Waiting.
I want to be the tree I rest in
flexible
deep roots to nourish
stories and scars bravely woven
into the fiber of my branches
that play in wind
provide a contended resting place
for you
night or day.
Emily, powerful to have found a respite in writing today. And how beautifully you’ve created it!
I love, love these lines. Thank you for sharing today. Hoping the rest of your evening is restful.
There is such beauty in this poem! I adore owls. Love this:
I have discovered
my talons
and my soft whispering feathers.
Emily, I FELT your poem. You turned “owl” this way and that, using it to explore your multiple dimensions, then deepened your exploration by examining the tree. Lovely.
Emily,
Absolutely love your poem and especially your last stanza. Love the image and the metaphor of the tree nourishing your stories and history. Just beautiful.
I want to be the tree I rest in
flexible
deep roots to nourish
stories and scars bravely woven
into the fiber of my branches
that play in wind
provide a contended resting place
for you
night or day.
Hooooo! You are really workin’ the images here, and I love it, Em! I like that owl who watches and pays attention and “muted.” And then you look at the tree that has those “deep roots” and “stories and scars bravely woven into the fiber…” The poem feels like a lovely package …it is Emily. Hugs, Susie
Oh, I mightily struggled today. I wrote three poems, none of which made me particularly happy (into the compost bin they go!). Sigh. This one is an extended metaphor, so I suppose it somewhat fits. I love the prompt, not happy with my brain.
What I am is a crossword puzzle with words in every direction–
interweaving letters and contrasting meanings all forming a whole.
Sometimes, when you start a new one,
there isn’t a theme until you get a few words in.
I think that that is true of me, too, you have to get a little way
past my opening gambits to really see what you’re working with.
Whether I am feeling alive or slothish,
there is a word for that in my lexicon.
I take in all of the words of novels,
poems, stories, conversations,
dreams, nightmares,
and confessions of love and guilt.
Words are simultaneously wondrous and horrible–
catch me on a good day and you’ll be impressed,
find me hungry and protect your head!
Allow my inner dictionary to whisper words to
soothe your frustrations or perhaps I will
lash out and cause calculated or chance distress.
Let the words that comprise me tell my story and
may my tongue find the right ones to
fulfill my purpose with articulate clarity and sagacious wit.
I loved the word choices in this poem – it read like a crossword puzzle in lots of ways… I love how you used it to personify. I particularly like the last few lines – they kind of read like a prayer, in a good way. Thanks for sharing this!
I felt the same way today – love the prompt, not so happy with my brain. Your poem is BRILLIANT though. I recently got into the NYT mini crossword, and I look forward to it every day. The first lines made me smile! Love it 🙂
Oh, I do like this word play! Particularly,
“Whether I am feeling alive or slothish,
there is a word for that in my lexicon.”
I think your tongue found the right ones!
Cara,
My wordsmith friend a crossword puzzle suits you well. I love your vocabulary, not that it comes as s surprise to you. This is my favorite line.
there is a word for that in my lexicon.
Cara,
You have brilliantly captured what I believe all logophiles face. Words can have such power but sometimes they seem to just have a mind of their own and teasing them out is a challenge.
Laughed out loud and especially loved these lines:
“I think that that is true of me, too, you have to get a little way/
past my opening gambits to really see what you’re working with”
Cara, you are so hard on yourself! This turned out great and it is totally YOU. You also articulate that with great vocabulary, comes great responsibility. Thank you for writing this today, especially because it was HARD
This metaphor is very apt! And this poem is fun, don’t be so hard on yourself. I enjoyed it!
Anna, thank you again for the fun prompt. I sat with this one throughout the day. I came up with more than one animal, place, and quote. Funny how the quote I just knew I was going to use didn’t seem to fit the way my poem as leaning, so my Tupac quote lives another day!! Wow, I cannot believe I have used the same line from his poem three days in a row. My sons would be so proud if they knew.
I am the polar bear playing graceful on the the frozen river. Slipping and sliding to my heart’s desire. Until I perceive a threat to my young, then you will see me at my full strength.
I am pink. Don’t be fooled by my pinkness. Pink is one of the oldest cultivated flowers. Pink is love. What is stronger than love? Pink is strength.
I am the phrase “I only follow my voice inside.” I take responsibility for my life choices. Even when there are negative consequences, because it takes a strong person to own both the good and the bad.
I am strength!
I particularly enjoyed your polar bear stanza – I got a sense of playfulness and protectiveness … and of course the theme of strength! Thanks for sharing this piece!
You did capture such a great line of wisdom from Tupac – fabulous to create three poems with this as an inspiration! Awesome summation: I am strength!
DeAnna,
I love all these images and your theme of strength which you carried through the poem. We were on the same wavelength with polar bears today! But, I especially loved “don’t be fooled by my pinkness”.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Pink is strength!! I have a flower in my yard called a Pink—a cutting from a 100+ year old woman who lived out in the Iowa prairie. Pink (the flower, the color) is strength. We love to see the Tupac poem again ❤️ Thanks for writing this today!
DeAnna,
This is so very you. I picture a polar bear wearing a pink sweater, happily grooving to Tupac. Yep. Totally you. <3
Oh DeAnna, I like this! The polar bear comparison fits you well! This was a very enjoyable poem!
There are so many amazing poets in this space. I love showing up here and reading y’all’s work.
I struggled with this process, but I wrote something.
I am struggling with this poem like a toddler trying to dress herself.
I keep thinking and trying to figure something out like scientists searching for a cure.
I decided to encourage myself like my writing group cheerleaders and put something on the page.
I ended up with these four lines that sound fairly good like bad poetry should.
Donetta, some days it’s hard to write, it you did it— hooray! I love how you trust us enough to put yourself out there honestly. You go, girl!
Donnetta,
This is a fantastic meta-poem. You wrote a poem! And you offered readers access to the process and the inner/self-talk that resonates deeply with me. I would love to have this handy to give to a student when they need their struggle to be validated and that what does come is celebrated!
Sarah
Sarah, if you would like to use it you can. I believe our work is sometimes meant to be put in the world for others. If you need me to say the word “permission”, you have my permission. (LOL)
I really like the metaphors you came up with, especially the scientist looking for a cure!
Donnetta, I love this!!! I need to remember the importance of showing up to the page no matter what. Thank you for sharing today!
I was struggling today too! I adore this four line poem, how it speaks to the elusive nature of poetry writing!! This is phenomenal advice: “I decided to encourage myself like my writing group cheerleaders and put something on the page.”
Donnetta,
We all have days when we find it hard to write. I think you did just fine. I live the image of a toddler trying to dress themself and the scientist work for that cure. However my favorite line is…
Thereis just so much truth in it.
I loved this Donnetta! You capture the struggle so well. I feel like I’m on the struggle bus all the time, but getting something down always feels so good in the end.
I didn’t work all my symbols in, and I feel like I haven’t quite got the last stanza right, but here is something! It’s based off a real dream I once had, a real place, and a real quote from my uncle:
The old heirloom rose still twines
Around the porch though the
House has fallen in.
I never new this place
When the farm was running
Its always been a shadowy haunt of dreams
But I know my roots also
Tangle with the cottonwood and locust
That guard this place.
Out on the rise the house
And trees sink away.
The wheat fields wallowing in gold
Reach out until the sky bends down to meet them on the horizon
And I can hear their voices
Slow your step, feel this earth beneath your feet
This blood flows in your veins too.
Emily, what a great extended metaphor. I really like the shadowy, dreamlike quality of this poem. Your word choice is spot on and really helps me to conjure up my vision of this house and farm.
Oh, Emily,
I love this…
Such powerful imagery in the tangles!
Sarah
This is so magical, so beautiful. How I love this line: “Slow your step, feel this earth beneath your feet”
Emily,
I can close my eyes and see the scene you have painted with your words. Such talent. My favorite line…
This blood flows in your veins too
Emily,
This is a gorgeous poem. The imagery is so rich. I felt like I was walking beside you.
Emily, not only do I love the wording of this poem but I also love the FEELING I have while reading this poem. Many images from homes my parents or grandparents have lived in come to mind when I read this piece. I feel so fortunate to have you in my writing circle!
Emily,
This is wonderfully nostalgic–I can almost feel the sepia tone in your words. You create such rich images. Thank you so much for joining us in writing–I hope you’ll keep coming back.
[Well, I kinda fell off the deep end on this one. Susie]
RIFFING WITH FIBONACCI
If I get to come back,
let it be holding the hand of Leonardo Bonacci,
Mr. Fibonacci to you, the Italian whiz kid
who twiddled his mathematical thumbs
into a stir and noticed a sequence
whirling right under his schnoz:
some arrangements in nature follow a pattern,
wherein the third number in a sequence
is the sum of the two preceding numbers
… 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13…
Shazam!
Growth and self-renewal can follow a pattern!
But so much for all that
number mumbo-jumbo;
what rocks my socks is that it plays out
in pinecone seeds (petals), arranged
in Mr. F’s sequence,
and the big seed heads of sunflowers,
the treble clef,
the chords in Western music,
DaVinci’s Mona Lisa—
All these beauties are coiled and spaced
into surprising, fantastical patterns!
Not at all like the two eyes, two legs, two arms,
and other hopefully matching parts
of this mortal body.
Fibonacci saw so much more.
Since I’ve long been down this human pathway
with all its symmetry
and 1 + 1 = 2 monotony,
I’m revving for the tilt-a-whirl of Fibonacci
in my next go-round.
My Golden Ratio
can be as yellow as all the acres of sunflowers
that blanket South Dakota in July,
the purple asters in September,
the Michelmas daisies in Cornwall,
the relaxed G Major of John Prine’s tunes.
If I get to come back,
my number’s up.
by Susie Morice, June 23, 2021©
Susie, my first thought was, “Wow! I have to share this with our math teachers!” You’ve explained Fibonacci’s work so beautifully. But honestly, your last stanza really made me smile with your simple but beautiful images. Love everything about this one! (PS- my grandson called today to tell me about his “monster pee” in the potty!)
Susie,
No matter what else happens during the day, when I log onto Ethical ELA and find you’re on a mathematical poetry jaunt that sort of mirrors the numbers game I found myself figuring today, I know something good id happening in the world. I love the word “shnoz.” I’m glad you sniffed out these patterns and wish I’d learned the math of poetry and poetry of math sooner. Your tilt-a-whirl metaphor is fun. Such a clever poem. I love it.
You are pure joy, Susie. I am so happy to be with your poem right now. Learning about this figure and his form that have made a mark on the poets in this space — at least me. I think back to when I first learned — was it Glenda how introduced it on Ethical ELA? I love that you write of “my next go-round” because it offers hope and a promise of another poem, and to see your John Prine come back through is lovely. I was just writing a chapter from Stephen King’s book on writing and he talked about Prine quite a bit.
Peace,
Sarah
Susie, when you go off on the deep end, it is definitely a treat! Love the fun word play, the gorgeous images, and, of course, John Prineville. Your poetry rocks my socks! Brilliant!
Bird Dreams
By Mo Daley 6/23/21
I realized, after five days in Mexico
with (much younger) friends,
that I am the wise (old) owl.
I see so much—
the slighted bridesmaid,
the overheated aunt,
the ceviche left out too long in the sun,
the twenty-something overindulging too early in the day,
the woman with the pale Irish complexion
refusing to apply sunscreen in hopes of FINALLY getting a tan.
I know I was born this way—
with tubular eyes destined to see it all.
But I wonder how it would feel
if my eyes were on my tail,
and I were the peacock, strutting my stuff.
Would I like it if everyone stopped and stared
as I sashayed around the courtyard
fanning my iridescent coverts out for all to admire?
I would be the peacock perched on a low branch,
shrieking wildly to convince the sexy pea hen to cozy up to me.
Or maybe I could morph into my own owl self
at night—
in order to see more than just myself.
Mo – You made me laugh out loud! “on a low branch/shrieking wildly…” LOLOLOL! You crazy girl! We do, though, see a heck of a lot through a very different lens as we age…I like the idea of an owl at night…she sees oh so well! We might have to get you some blurry glasses so you can relax. LOL! Hugs, Susie
Mo, as much as I fear birds I loved reading this and imagining you as two of the most frightening birds of all (peacocks and owls)!!
I adore the first stanza because it’s allowing me to see the mind of Mo (as opposed to your wings, of course). I agree with all your wisdom that they all should have taken to heart. Something about watching it from your wise perspective makes me want to go to the scene and shout, “PUT ON THE DAMN SUNSCREEN! PUT THAT COCKTAIL DOWN LITTLE LADY!” Then we can both escort the overheated aunt inside and enjoy some quality time with her.
I love this!
I’m with Stacey, I had an urge to jump in and scold! LOL. Excellent poem!
Mo,
I also laughed out loud. Love the personification and getting to hear your thoughts. I feel the same with young colleagues who are not much older than my own children, and I wonder how the time has flown so fast. It seems like just yesterday, I was one of the young ones getting the burn.
Anna, thank you for your prompt and time today. Your ability with rhyme always amazes me so I tried my best to incorporate rhyme into my poem. I am feeling very large; I’m wanting to find more inner peace and calm.
I Am the Great White Whale
“It is not down on any map; true places never are.” from Moby Dick by Herman Melville
I am the great white whale
riddled with scars, I flail
with crooked jaw, wrinkled brow;
submerged beneath churning waves
I rise to destroy all knaves
whose deadly harpoons crave
to destroy me—
can they not see
I’m the greatest motion
in the grand blue ocean
spouting my fearless song
“Stay calm and carry on”
Barb Edler
June 23, 2021
(This is a link to a youtube video that explains how the Keep Calm and Carry On slogan became popular. If you haven’t viewed this before, it is only three minutes or so and very interesting.
I meant to write “Keep calm and carry on”…
Oh, what a beautiful image of this whale and his feelings….keeping calm and carrying on, despite the threat of the harpoons and those who would harm him. Submerged beneath churning waves has a rhythm and lilt that is rather like the ocean to read aloud. I love everything about this, Barb! Beautiful!
Barb — The quote you selected is quite provocative …a great choice! The great white whale images…the scars, the spouting, the fearlessness. Marvelous strength in these images. I think we have to get some background music and make this a movie! Oh wait… 🙂
Love it! Susie
SpiroGraph
i’m not one to color inside life lines
looking back on my childhood days
spinning hypotrochoid roulettes
inside toy spirograph circles i
pressed rainbow pens firmly to paper
where the spinning wheel bumped
against the ringed form affixing its
parts to the toy’s surface the way
earth’s axis anchors our planet in space
i longed to move outside those inner boundaries to where i traced epitrochoids along the game’s plastic precipice &
balanced in an inky taught tightrope where
one slip sent pen pushing across paper
onto surfaces beyond patterned templates these places i could multiply to change
life’s parameters & mold a generational paradigm shift i long to write
although it can’t be written
*The line “I long to write [although] it can’t be written” is from Carl Sandburg’s poem “Little Word, Little White Bird.”
**SpiroGraph is a toy popular in the 1960s-70s.
Oh my, the Spirograph memories tumbled down on me! Your poem invoked reflection on how I felt about the Spirograph, the forcing, the staying within boundaries. All things I detest now as an adult. You chose a perfect item to highlight and from such an abstract and beautiful way. Comparing the spirograph’s spinning and bumping works with the anchoring of the earth! That made me think of the obligation children had to stay within the Spirograph’s boundaries and not knowing how it even happened. I’d love to hear an artist’s point of view on Spirographs.
There is so much to behold and appreciate here:
Thank you, Glenda! You are a changemaker, pattern-breaker, and paradigm-shifter!
Glenda, I can definitely relate to the wonder of the SpiroGraph and the desire to “move outside those inner boundaries”. I love how you incorporated Sandburg’s line. If anyone could create a “generational paradigm shift”, I believe it could be you. Powerful poem!
Glenda, you are so much the master of this metaphorical mandala in your motions of breaking the mold. The words of the shapes and the colors of the pens and the movement of those circles compared to the earth’s axis and the patterns you sought to break for the paradigm shift are magical and SO you! I also am fascinated by your quote – so small yet so powerful.
Glenda — I LOVE this whole “outside the lines” idea… and yes, “beyond patterned templates”… I love the freedom that rings here. And here are a bunch of new geometry words for me… Whoo! The whole Spirograph image is really cool here. You are soooo imaginative…pushing those boundaries! Thank heavens for minds like yours. Susie
I always thought it was me with the problem when I couldn’t keep that blasted pen in the ring and make a perfectly symmetrical design with the Spirograph. Maybe like you and Stacey and others, it was a need to not have such strong parameters. Great metaphor for writing, Glenda.
Anna, thank you for the chance and space to be introspective today. I love the idea of using this as a “get to know you” activity with future classes. (I tweaked the prompt a bit to just focus on a quote (or two) that “represents” me.) Thanks for this!
Sometimes I think
of myself as poetry
rather than prose,
but Richard Howard
reminds us that
“verse reverses,
prose proceeds”
so that gives me
pause.
I’d like to be
free verse
with purpose,
but I also don’t
mind an occasional
dactyl or spondee
(maybe an anapest
or two) and
sometimes even
I crave the
reassuring
four corners
of the sonnet,
its own box,
reminiscent of a
paragraph.
So, maybe it’s
the prose poem
that suits
although,
of course,
I’m aware of
Coleridge’s
claim that prose
is words in their
best order
while poetry is
the best words
in their best order,
so let’s all agree
that I’m three or
four drafts shy of
that.
Scott, fun poem. As always, I’m amazed at the variety and beauty in everyone’s poems. I sometimes don’t have words to say. I love everything about your poem today–the short lines, it speaks clearly, your self-awareness and bringing us there with you, but one favorite thing today and every day I read your poems, is that I learn something new. (I always keep a tab open to search for things like Richard Howard, Coleridge, dactyl, spondee, anapest, some of which I knew about recently when studying meter, or names possibly once upon a time, but I always need a refresher with your poems! And I always learn something from you.
Scott,
I had to smile at that last thought. Aren’t we all WIPs needing multiple drafts? Some days I’m poetry, some days prose, too many a blank page. I’m always a fan of writing that’s self-referential in its attention to the act of writing. You’re motivating me to revisit some forms I’ve not tried in a while.
Scott, Your voice is always so striking. I love how you carry the reader on an adventure through your poem. Loved the lines:
“I’d like to be
free verse
with purpose,”
Thank you!
Scott — I had fun rereading your poem today…I love the idea of being “…poetry/rather than prose” and what that might really mean. Yes, free verse… my fave and you capture the tickle of the other forms that bind and corner our words. Bringing back Coleridge was fun for me…I had totally forgotten his analysis…good stuff — I love learning through your poems. When you think about how you crank out big old pieces every day, I think you are far from “…three or/four drafts shy…” You make a mark every darn day. Wonderful. Susie
Anna, such a sweet surprise to find the topic today. I teach mandala writing to my 7th graders, and I love seeing your version of this! Looking forward to delving in and trying this in a new way. Thank you!
Thank you, Anna, for these amazing prompts. I thought of a mandala to begin with and all kinds of colors and images sprung to mind as if starting from a core and spinning outward. Kind of random, but I felt this knowing of myself in a new way.
Becoming Me
By Nancy White
A blushing rose bud no longer shy,
I’m just realizing there’s no need to hide.
Sometimes a dolphin I’m speeding through the sea,
surprising all with a splash as I leap.
A pebble tossed in a pond,
making ripples, I spread out and beyond
where soul meets body in waves of midnight blue,
I am light and peace when I’m thinking of you
I’m a scribe, a recorder, I throw it all down—
words on a page or paint splashed around.
I’m the laugh of a baby or handkerchief of tears,
a complex conundrum for all these years.
Nancy,
I love the way you’ve embraced and interpreted the prompt. My favorite image is at the end, that of a “complex conundrum.” I’ve been thinking a lot about how age transforms women and wishing I’d found myself decades ago. Your poem speaks to my heart.
Nancy, what a wonderful poem! I love how you open and close this poem. So many outstanding metaphors throughout this! I loved the lines:
“where soul meets body in waves of midnight blue,
I am light and peace when I’m thinking of you” and
“I’m the laugh of a baby or handkerchief of tears”
Awesome!
I love everything about your poem, Nancy! I admire the rhymes and imagery, but I think most of all your message. I love how you have come into your own with age. I feel that way, too!
Thank you, Anna, for the awesome prompts these past couple of days. I have learned a lot about myself as a writer and a person! I also love the lesson plan idea and how to incorporate a whole-class novel into it! I only got two metaphors in there, but I think I milked them dry, haha!
I Am and I Am Not
I am not
a peony nor am I a sunflower, rose or lily. You’ll find me wild in
midwest prairies, ditches, or in the
back of the bouquet.
My Goldenrod blooms complement your best
features, which is precisely what I love
to be. Today, I am in the background.
Shine on, Stargazer.
I do not
work on Wall Street, but I do make happiness bets.
by carefully monitoring asset allocation and
making sure to diversify my portfolio.
Less risky wagers are books and trips, but
I never regret sinking time into a person.
There is a high return on investment when it comes to students, but
it requires heavily active management of these particular funds.
As a broker I know,
It is where you invest your love, you invest your life.
Such beautifully-crafted metaphors, Rachelle! The unassuming goldenrod that makes everything else “shine” not by contrast by by complement – that sparks layers of thoughts, truly. Thinking of drabness and how we would miss the goldenrod if its goldenness wasn’t there. I adore the line “Shine on, Stargazer” as well as the metaphor of “happiness bets” and investing in people, being wise with assets… bravo, love-broker!
Rachelle, I really enjoyed this! Your first stanza with your Goldenrod as a type of “foil” — through compliment not contrast (as Fran said) — and the economic language of your second stanza (“asset allocation,” “diversify my portfolio,” “active management of these particular funds”) was very cool. Thank you for writing and sharing!
Rachelle,
“Shine on, Stargazer.” That made me smile. I just did an image search for “goldenrod in bouquets” and the pictures were beautiful and exactly what I expected from reading your first stanza. They make the other flowers pop and brighten, just as you must do with others.
Beautiful metaphor.
Your investments stanza is precious too. I love the quote. “High return on investment when it comes to students” – Yes, indeed!
By the way, thank you so much for your kind words on my poem today.
Rachelle,
The metaphor of an investment banker w/ a diverse portfolio is brilliant. I love the image of a flower at the “back of the bouquet.” I’ve always thought of myself as more of a behind the scenes person, so this idea warms my heart. Lovely poem.
Rachelle, as always I’ve enjoyed this! You catch my attention quite well when you start with what you are not. What a great device. And I’ve appreciated the Midwest references with this poem and yesereday’s. The farm I wrote about in my poem today is in Kansas!
Rachelle — There’s a lot of wisdom going on here! I love the analogies with the broker terminology in the last stanza — I love that investment in kids…yes! Susie
Rachelle, this is a great poem! For some reason, after the opening lines I started thinking about India Arie’s lyrics “I am not my hair, I am not this skin, I am not your expectations…”
Yes, love all the beauty of what the Stargazer is!
Love your metaphors and the “happiness bets” and
This is good!!!
Rachelle,
More than one of our shared students come to mind when I read this line
There is a high return on investment when it comes to students
Oh oh oh! You ARE the ultimate goldenrod, helping all around you shine! (LOVED the Stargazer line!) You are (again) a role model to me: I want to be the goldenrod for the almost-stargazers who need a backdrop.
And your second stanza! Have you ever heard me say “I bet on kids and books”? Each time I buy another (another) book for my classroom, I tell myself I’d rather pour $16 bucks into the hope of capturing a reader than into a slot machine.
One of my favorite Annie Dillard quotes is “How you spend your days is, of course, how you spend your life.” This message echos “Where you invest your love, you invest your life.”
Wonderful poem! You gave me so much to think about (and to enjoy)!
Thanks, Allison! I have heard you say the bit about betting on kids and books AND I’ve heard you reference the Annie Dillard quote! You are an inspiration both consciously and subconsciously ❤️
Rachelle,
I love this. The first stanza drips with reminiscence of your roots and the second is your chosen career–one that often is shorted respect. A lovely contrast and symmetry.
Anna, thank you for the challenge today. What a topic. I wanted to write a poem about the principal’s three children who are leaving, and we are creating a keepsake book for the family. I was hoping that would fit into the prompt today, but it didn’t, and I couldn’t stay out of the compost pile! I posted my poem and then got busy with some other responsibilities, but I wanted to come back and tell you thank you for the challenging and reflective prompts of the last two days. I love your suggestion for the classroom to have the saying or quotation come from a shared reading. I can see that would cause some need connections and getting to know one another.
Love your last stanza on being the light and the “peaceful fight” and those last two lines:
“Be the change you want to see”
That’s what I’m still learning to be.
Me too! Thank you, Anna.
I Am
©Stacey L. Joy, June 23, 2021
I am the thoughtful peony
Bold and bright
I am the masterful honeybee
Constructive and responsive
I am orange, the color of creativity
Freedom, joy, and hard work
I am the soothing cerulean water
Of Fiji, Bora Bora, and the Maldives
I am the poetry of Amanda Gorman
“The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light…”
I am the courage of tomorrow
“If only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it”
Stacey – you ARE all these things, bold and bright, constructive and responsive, soothing and courageous… I, too, love Gorman’s poetry and rousing imagery. You are ever-encouraging. You buoy my spirit every time I read your words. Thank you-
Awwww shucks, Fran, you just made my day! Thank you! ❤️
Stacey, what a lovely poem. I feel like I got to know you better through this poem, and I love the lines. I might steal this one for some affirmation work, “I am the masterful honeybee
Constructive and responsive”
I also love the nod to Amanda Gorman. What a treasure! Thank you for writing today!
Again, a winner! I enjoy the colors and especially the last stanza that mentions courage and bravery. Yes, well constructed.
Stacey, you nailed a homerun with Anna’s prompt today. I love the form. Maybe I should have come and read first! I would have another mentor. I’m adding this one to my list of poems to try! I love the quote about being brave enough to be it; you are because you just said it. I am this, I am this, I am…Bravery and light!
Stacey,
You are every good thing. I love the “I am” approach and the Ananda Gorman lines.
Stacey Joy, you are that thoughtful peony. Love this metaphor. Keep blooming.
Stacey, I am loving the use of the Gorman lines – what a masterful way to weave these lines into the fabric of who you are. I also love how you used joy in the heart of the poem – – your name is at the heart of you, too!
Dear Anna – this is such a unique challenge. Your mandala poem is so full of power and grace. I am enchanted by the way you worked your images into rhyme! Not long ago I started keeping a dream journal to preserve the most vivid images – and so I tapped it for this today. Note: I wouldn’t pick green as a favorite color, although an emerald happens to be my birthstone; it’s by far the brightest and most notable color in my dreams.
Here goes…
Life is But a Dream Mandala
Life is but a dream,
we sang in kindergarten
sitting in our circle.
The teacher taught us how to begin again
in rounds that go on and on and on.
And I would sing alone
merrily merrily merrily
skipping along the sidewalks
going home
and at the park, gripping the metal merry-go-round
running, running, running for momentum
before hopping on
to ride for as long as possible
trying not to get too dizzy
as the world spun by.
Soon thirsty, needing a respite
from the burning sun,
I sought the magnolia tree.
There is no more prodigious shade.
Dark, satin-smooth earth at its feet
utter stillness under its mighty branches
huge white flowers
of concentric circles
stemming from the dawn of time itself
perfuming the air with spice
paradoxically cool and warm.
Let me be this restorative refuge.
The green of those leathery leaves
would return in my dreams
again and again, vivid, abundant,
taking various forms
like a cicada in my hand,
its body brilliant emerald, soothing, healing
like its tympanic rhythms of immortality.
Let me sing this green-bright song.
All my life, I’ve dreamed of water:
placid ponds, pools
sometimes laden with green lily pads
more often rivers, oceans
surging, churning, with unreliable bridges
of absurd construction that I had to cross
in the dark, on foot, when everyone else
had a vehicle
until the night I dreamed of swimming
in a sea as warm as bathwater
at dusk, along a shore where twinkling lights of cottages
stretched on and on. As I wondered
how I would ever reach my destination
a dolphin rose up under my hand,
its skin slick, smooth, more than mere solace.
A guiding aliveness, quivering, leaping
merrily merrily merrily
and I knew, I knew I could go on and on
as long as I relied on the dolphin.
Let me always believe and trust.
—I don’t dream about bridges
anymore.
I am able to stand on the sand
savoring ocean spray, as the waves crash on and on
contemplating vast mysteries
facing the unknown
but knowing
that as the ocean pulls away the top layers
new sand underneath rises to the surface.
How fitting is it
that in my dreams now
I am often walking or riding with my youngest child
my musician, who’s able to navigate
complex chord progressions
with breathtaking dexterity, whose quiet strength is like
the ancient magnolia, offering sweet comfort
to all he encounters.
Let me be a conduit of such amazing grace.
Salt on my tongue
song in my heart
my spirit soars sunward like the eagle
that appears so often my dreams
reminding me of power
yet untapped.
Let me rise.
Life is but a dream,
we sang in kindergarten
sitting in our circle.
This fall, I have a granddaughter going to kindergarten
and another being born.
Life is concentric circles, I think. Ripples on the water
going on and on and on
for now it is summer again, bright and beckoning.
Magnolias blooming, cicadas buzzing,
my school work over and done.
I shall read now for the joy of it,
merrily merrily merrily.
Perhaps the ragged book from my long-ago childhood
containing words I thought about having
carved on my headstone, when the time comes:
The term is over: the holidays have begun.
The dream is ended: this is the morning.
—I go on.
(the quote is from The Last Battle, C.S. Lewis)
FRAN!!!!! THIS. IS. PHENOMENAL. I am sitting here knowing I have to read this again to catch the splendors I missed the first time. (paused to read again)
This is the kind of poem I can read multiple times and find something new to savor each time. (paused to read again)
Beginning this story with singing the song in rounds brought back so many childhood memories of singing in school. But the way you tied it all to the “prodigious shade” of the magnolia tree, then to “placid ponds, pools” and “unreliable bridges” enthralls my imagination. Fran, I really want to go back and read again right now, but I’ll just finish my comments first.
Your bold Let me… fits in each place like a praise to your journey. Gosh, I am just in love with this poem and I must learn to craft more stories in my writing. Beautiful.
?Stacey (I also love magnolia trees)
Wow, Fran! What a poem. I love the continuity. I think you encapsulated grace and power in this piece as well. This poem makes me wonder more about your dream journal because of the strong images you provoke throughout your poem. Many parts of this poem will stick with me like, “Life is concentric circles, I think. Ripples on the water / going on and on and on” Thank you for writing this today!
Oh, wow, you have knitted together an amazing story and dream sequence here, Fran. Replete with lessons learned–so much wisdom and wealth in these lines. I love the idea of concentric circles, ripples on the water. Enjoy that book–“merrily merrily merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.” Well played and beautifully written.
My gosh. You always amaze me with your words and the way you weave thought and lyric and emboldened lines and techniques, but this one leaves a reader jawdroppingly speechless with awe and wonder and amazement, Fran. The refrain of the song, the repetition of cycles and circles and the imagery – – and I LOVE the quote from C. S. Lewis. What a masterpiece. A true gift – you are anointed with the gift of language.
Good morning, Anna! I hate to come to the 5th day of our Open Write week because it’s always bittersweet. I love the mandala poetry prompt. In elementary, we’ve done collage style mandalas too so it’s possible to adapt this for the little ones too. I know for sure my students will be writing mandala poems next school year so I thank you in advance.
You have given me such a thorough picture of Anna! From the robin’s peeking to the thorns of a rose for protection, to the panther’s fleeting in your vision, to the teacher completing a mission. But most of all, you are a loving example of how to be the change we wish to see! Gandhi must be proud of you as he watches from On High.
Loved your poem and who you are! Looking forward to my writing time today. Thank you for yesterday’s prompt and today’s! It’s been fun!
?
I Am
I am a tall sunflower facing the sun
following its beams until it is done.
I am a tiger with eyes so bright
searching for dinner in the night.
I am a hummingbird flitting flower to flower,
sucking up nectar, hour after hour.
I am the ocean savoring life in colors of blue.
The sky tickles me with its vibrant hue.
I am the checklist so hard to finish
to stay tall and strong without bumbles.
My energy’s gone – so hard to replenish.
Dad says, “that’s how the cookie crumbles!”
Oh, how fun and true and silly and sad and wonderful! Love how you go from sunflower to cookie crumbling.
I love the sunflower image – I read just last year that sunflowers are also able to remove nuclear toxins from the soil. Being “a checklist, so hard to finish” – what a metaphor! It is one I understand all too well, alas. Your dad made me smile at the end – sounds much like my own.
Susan, sweet poem with lots of great rhymes.
My favorite image is that ocean savoring life:
So beautiful!
The checklist rears its head, not a bad thing, but something that keeps you strong and disciplined. Your energy astounds me. You run circles around me, strong sunflower sister!
Wow…this was an interesting one to play around with! I love the idea of doing this with students!
The Journey to Become
Long-necked beauty
Easy grace
The calla lily’s unique form
shares unexpected flashes
of brilliance carefully enfolded
Humble yet majestic
Peaceful, with intelligent grey eyes
belying an active soul within
The elephant’s quiet power
Fiercely protects
Perching high above the fray
watching and waiting carefully
The owl’s mysterious wisdom
Speaks little but
asks many questions
The palette of sunset
Oranges and reds in many vivid hues
Imparting warmth and comfort
Reflecting fire and passion
My Fair Lady
Darlene, her unfailing acceptance of all
and warm genuine joy at knowing others
finds truth
Surrounded by a holy mess
in all of its glory
learning to embrace the broken
Camp Hope continues to
tug at me
“Lightly, lightly…
throw away your baggage and go
forward”–these words remind
that no matter where I am on my journey,
I’m exactly where I need to be.
Julie, the movement of the poem strikes me, but it is the closing thought that moves me to the core…”…no matter where I am on my journey, I’m exactly where I need to be.” This is such an affirmation of faith, one I’d like to be able to say with conviction each day. Thanks for the reminder to enjoy the now. How cleverly you’ve portrayed the idea that “it’s the journey, not the destination…”
Beautiful metaphors, Julie. I could really see the graceful, long necked lily and the quiet, powerful wisdom of the elephant and owl. Then you sum it up with more wisdom to “embrace the broken… throw away your baggage” and know in this journey you are exactly where you should be.
Very grateful, Anna!
Hope feels like…
The sudden appearance of a Dragon’s Breath plant, mysterious and scarlet,
a fantastical oddity in the midst of green.
Living in the eyes of a Blue Whale as she sees all, above and below.
The mourning dove, born with the inner space to love her mate
as long as her life lasts, steadfast and pure.
The golden morning light, not the creeping of the midnight blue of twilight.
The underneath of a thick cedar tree, rough yet warm protection when the clouds turn dark.
Feels like rain…
What beautiful descriptions of hope! I can really feel hope in the rain. We had a little today. Unexpected and refreshing just like the metaphors of hope you give today.
Thank you, Susan! What a lovely response!
Dixie,
I love poems of hope. I have written so many poems with the word hope, but here you have given a symphony of hope in these beautiful images. I love the description of the mourning dove with her lifetime mate, and I looked by the Dragon’s Breath plant to see this “fantastical oddity in the midst of green” Beautiful!
Dixie, what terrific images of hope. THis would be a great mentor poem to share with students to have them write about a feeling or eotion. Love it!
With a profound nod to Richard Bach, Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah which deeply affected me back in the 70’s.
Little Creature
Little creature small and round
clinging to the rocks abound
You shall when I’ve the nerve to show
the world that I have finally let go
Let the stream take me at will
to other creatures clinging still
look in wonder at my flight
as I touch down then sail from sight
Learn new things at each new place
growing smarter, filling with grace
the stream sometimes fast others slow
seems to know where next to go
My fellow creatures do I see
still clinging to their rocks and tree
amazed by me as I drift down and dock
My friends, it’s easy, let go of your rock!
Judi Opager
May 23, 2021
Wow, rhyme and meter with all the requirements too! I’m impressed. I like the idea of letting go at the beginning and all the ways of observing it or not by the end.
Judi, your poem about hope helps me see the Rock, in a different way. As a Christian, I’ve been taught to hold on to the Rock, a Biblical metaphor for Christ. But, when I read your poem, I get a different sense of the “rock” that also is Biblical. Faith requires letting go and letting God sustain us. Wow! It’s amazing the way powerful poetic metaphors in skillfully crafted poems like yours force us to view our lives, beliefs, and teachings in fresh ways…and they still make sense. Thanks for the nudge to go with the flow sometimes.
I’m back in the compost pile today,
Not a pile, but a prayer bouquet
Of soil and poems, promises redeemed.
Be fruitful earth and poets, God beamed.
I went back and found the flowers,
The animals, all that fill my hours—
Topics I have written poems about–
Mirrors of life, here each gets a shout
On not being able to make up my mind
The flower that speaks of me are all those that have bloomed and shriveled and turned into ripe sweet fruit. I am a whole fresh fruit atlas.
On knowing when to speak
Coyotes make their mark stealthily, except when they don’t. Then they make their yip-howls fill up the neighborhood, making people take note.
On not being flashy
Pigeons coo, unconcerned that they aren’t showy, but they know they are well-tended.
On finding color
Secure blue and sequins sought out and gathered these bits of nature in this dry and dusty land.
On going home
Through the door from one place to another. But either here or there, whispers from God point to life-drenched promise of home.
On being wise
Dr. Solomon servant of the upside-down realm of Jesus, did not stop his work in the urgent care clinic for poor and sick people. Covid killed him one year ago this week. Now the clinic where he worked has been dedicated to his memory.
On living upside-down
The last will be first, and the first last.
The greatest among you will be your servant.
Sometimes living with upside down values doesn’t seem to make sense, but clawing to the top of the pile makes less.
Denise, this is rich…full of insight and the color of your life. I like the “shouts.”
Denise, what a delicious poem of poems. I loved the formatting of this, and I loved opening the doors into your past poetry. While I recognized some of your poems, I thoroughly enjoyed discovering more of your writing. I was particularly drawn to the Golden Shovel poem about pigeons. I would have never thought to write a poem like that, and I want to thank you for making me a better poet, observer, and more aware spiritually. I appreciate you!
A breathtaking prayer bouquet, Denise – full of color, wisdom, courage, faith. An invigorating bloom for every trial of life. A tapestry of strengthening words – for which I am grateful. Thank you for your beautiful offerings, Denise, and for your guidance!
Denise, thank you for your kind words on my poem today (and on previous days, too!). Truth be told, I had (and still have) several tabs opened from your links today: your wonderful tribute to Dr. Solomon, your clever — and poignant — Golden Shovel about “Pigeons Well-Tended” which brought me to Jamaal May’s excellent “There Are Birds Here”, and then there was your “quiet” poem of a book in a field next to some gravestones based on a photo Margaret Simon shared — which I also learned was “a thing” — “This Photo Wants to Be a Poem.” I meandered down so many paths filled with so many reflections and insights and so many good poems! So, thank you!
Denise, your last line puts it all in perspective – those upside down values that define us can never explain us, so we just keep on being us – in a world where our not-flashy selves are satisfied with what we have. I love this embracing acceptance of who we are when our values don’t align with others’ values. You draw a picture of strong belief.
Anna, I adore this new poetry form! What a lovely way to invite students to open up their dreams to us. Your quote fits your mandala so beautifully – that black panther in your vision is just the perfect image of sleekness and beauty to inspire one to know the challenges and to plan to overcome them to realize success! Thank you for investing in us as writers this week. You always inspire me!
a bubble, a ticket, a leaf, a camera, a suitcase
A Journey Mandala
a bubble in the babbling brook
rushing down the stream rapids
over rocks and twigs –
thrills and chills
holding on tight
for the wild ride
like mine!
a ticket to somewhere –
anywhere, really,
that a writer can think:
log cabin with a crackling fire
leaves crunching under foot
on the path
to the front door
like those ideas
that crinkle and stir
a hidden camera
in Trafalgar Square
stalking the situations and conversations –
a people watcher on a techie level
studying human nature
considering all the lives lived
a suitcase –
a keeper of
only what is necessary
for the journey
for traveling lightly
through this world
knowing that the best souvenirs
are the memories
of presence in each moment
understanding, finally, what
Steinbeck meant when he wrote
“We find after years of struggle that we don’t take a trip;
a trip takes us.”
ooooh, love it! I can imagine sharing this poem with students and then seeing them fired up to write their own. I love how the suitcase image pairs with the quote. This makes me wat to write another!
Nicely done … love these lines:
“… a suitcase –
a keeper of
only what is necessary
for the journey …”
Kevin
I’m always amazed by your energy, Kim, and the artistry with which you paint your images. So clear and vibrant. So concise -“only what is necessary” works for writing, too! The best souvenirs ARE those memories of “presence in each moment” – as my uncle said, loving as much as you can while you can. This always comes through your words.
Hi, Kim! You made the right choices and I’m loving how you brought the items into your story to show us more about the amazing Dr. Johnson. I like the idea of these tangible items that really are specific to YOU. I need to try writing a poem using items specific to me. Love that.
Your poem shows the depth and uniqueness of you also. From taking wild rides to sitting by crackling fires, to a techie people watcher! So clever. The quote is one to remember the next time I go on a trip. I’ll keep in mind that the trip is taking me!
?
Kim, you have used a few words and simple objects to be metaphors of your life and work. I love the ticket to anywhere for the writer. I remember some of your stories of London, and I love that reminder. My favorite is the suitcase and this rich lesson and reminder:
Kim, Yes, I couldn’t agree more with your closing quote. My favorite part is the souvenirs we carry. So true! Love the beauty of this poem and its wonderful rich message! Brilliant!
Wow and Wow!!! I loved your poem because it simply resonated with my soul! “A suitcase – a keeper of only what is necessary for the journey for traveling lightly through this world” every line is perfect!
Good Morning, Writers! Ooooooh, Anna. At first I had to read the description of today’s prompt a few times…then, I saw your poem and I “got it.” Thanks for your mentor poem. What a fun prompt with chances to play with words. I shortened my poem to a flower: tiger lily and a quote: Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much love the heart can hold. Zelda Fitzgerald.
As a child, I knew
Tiger Lily was more
than a character in Peter Pan
Tiger Lily was a flower
of course,
but also free to make
her own rules
live a life of her choosing.
burst with color
surge with sass
a firework
glittering in all wonder
and wow
of unmeasured love
not even poets
can weigh on the points
of their pens.
Perfect quote to build a poem around …
Kevin
So concise and perfect, Linda – how wise to shorten your mandala to a flower and a quote (mine is long!). Your poem glitters with its own “wonder and wow” – what a tribute to Tiger Lily, and to the bright, compelling Zelda, in your lingering zinger-lines at the close.
Linda, truly fitting and I don’t even know you, but it’s what I sense from you and your writing. I could steal your words and send them to my family and they’d believe the poem was about me too. LOL.
Love these lines, validating all that we sassy independent women are and will be forever!
You are on fire today, Linda. This is the second poem I’ve read by you today, both written today! Both have a playful lilt and some amazing word choices. Love this Tiger Lily poem.
Some of my favorite phrases:
So much love and fun and reflection here, Linda. Thank you.
Those early inspirations from our childhood leave such lasting impressions on us – and this one clearly stuck with you in every good way. I love your conclusion – – love not even poets can weigh on the points of their pens. That’s a deep thought there! The message that this young girl was free to make her own rules and live a life of her choosing is triumphant for girls who want to do the same. Well done!
I am pretty sure I went off the rails of the rules of the prompt (sorry Anna) but once I was into the first lines, I just kept going. – Kevin
If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn — Charlie Parker (attributed)
What exactly am I living
when I am playing music
out of my horn, just the way
Bird told it, according to
some, while according to
others, maybe the words
of Bird I carry around with me
were never his to begin with,
and ain’t that just like a bebopper
like Charlie Parker
to lift something from someone else
and riff it into your own as a bit
of theft, and all I’m left with here
to play with is the possibility
that we need to live our days
like stories like song
like improvisational poetry
I fell into the poem with “the way Bird told it” because of the double meaning…my mind was with it in the riff and possibility. Not seeing this as off the rails at all!
Kevin, this is an enjoyable poem to read, almost like I am also listening to you blow that horn. Love these lines because this is what life is all about!
It’s such an honor to find something of someone else’s to bring into our lives and make it our own. Let’s live and let’s improv our way through!
????????
Kevin, such a clever way with words – the words we carry around make me stop and think…..and oh, how I Loe “aint’ that just like a bebopper.” Improvisational poetry is personality shining through.
Kevin — It feels like I should have CP’s saxophone playing in the background while I’m reading this poem. Better yet, let’s have a YouTube link to your playing that horn!!! I love the last five lines especially… “live our days/like stories like song/like improvisational poetry.” Musical…lyrical… lovely. Susie
I absolutely love your poem!!! It just rolled through me! “and ain’t that just like a bebopper, like Charlie Parker, to life something from someone else, and riff it into your own as a bit of theft” Powerful!
Your poem–in a culturally relevant way–helped me to understand mandalas in a way I have never have previously been able. The idea of mandalas as metaphors will stick with me long past my reading of your poem. What an exciting and revealing lesson this is–and will be–for students.