Our Host: Tammi Belko
Tammi is a Gifted Intervention Specialist, middle school Power of the Pen writing coach, and all-around book nerd who’s been sharing her love of reading, writing, and poetry with students for seventeen years. When she’s not lost in a stack of young adult books, you’ll find her rocking out to music with her family, hiking through the woods, marveling at the magic of her son’s mushroom farm, or belting out show tunes with her daughters at the latest musical. Based in Cleveland, Ohio, Tammi has published poetry and short stories in Ethical ELA’s teacher resource books, Words That Mend, 90 Ways of Community, and Just YA. She is also the author of the YA verse novel Perchance to Dream.
Inspiration
Writer’s block is real and sometimes a random word jump start is just what we need. Have fun crafting your poem using a random word generator, or ask Chatgpt to select random words centered around a theme or topic. While I chose to write in free verse, any form will do.
Process
Go to a Random Word Generator. Here are a few options.
- Word Generator, Word Generator, Phrase Generator
- Decide how many words or phrases you wish to generate.
- If you would like your words focused on a theme or topic, try using ChatGpt.
- After generating your words or phrases, decide on your poetry form and have fun writing your poem.
Teaching Ideas:
- Build student word knowledge using a Random Synonym Generator.
- Mad Lib It. Using a random word generator, have students write poetry collaboratively using different parts of speech. One student supplying the random nouns, another the verbs, etc.
- Make it interdisciplinary. Challenge students to use science or math vocabulary lists.
- Gamify-it by having students create weird word lists for each other.
My Word List and poem from 2021 Poetry Marathon Prompt:
Gumboots, Mud, Fly-fishing, Periwinkle, Skyscraper, Sourdough, Traffic, Storefront.
Tammi’s Poem
Gumboots
She stands in borrowed gumboots,
sunk deep in mud, rushing river swelling to her knees.
Shaking her head, wishing to be somewhere, anywhere else.
Fly fishing—not her choice, but she’d lost the toss.
Next time she’d win and choose something, anything else.But for now,
mind drifting under periwinkle sky,
she peers up at the skyscraper-shaped cloud,
craves the sourdough bread from the city bakery,
wonders if she will beat traffic to get there
before the storefront sign is turned.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
giant, photograph, hallway, valid, circulate
School
I circulate the halls
Down the east hallway I see a giant photograph
The artist is pretty valid in their artwork
Thank you for posting today Sammi! Last week my one classmate had to present a lesson plan and part of the activity she would giver her middle school students (college students at the time) was for each person in the group to come up with a word and the group had to create a poem based on those words, I liked practicing this again, thank you.
Tammi, I made it back with a poem. It took me a while. I did generate a couple of lists, one from two of the sites you suggested.
And after reading an interview with Laila Lalami in World Literature Today I became a little inspired to write. I’m always amazed at what I can come up with from these prompts and I really want to thank you for being here to host. Writing has been healing for me, or at least explorative and distractive…something I desire.
I can get fired up about oppression and inequality, and sometimes just feel like it depletes and defeats me.
Random Words Still Can’t Solve the Answer to Anger
Did you consider the opinions of the opposed–
the way they turn to dust–
because you treat them as if they live in childish ways?
Who is the speaker? Did you really seek?
Why a competitor?
To affect brings anger, but often
not with the sentiment of action.
Will you let yourself be defeated? Useless?
Tammi, your poem is absolutely beautiful. I love the first line with the “borrowed gumboots” and how the poem progresses through with such whimsy using all of the words. Brilliant!
I will give a try at this; it sounds like a fun way to play with words.
This is such a creative and fun prompt!
On a trolley bound for nowhere fast,
A paradox of futures and of past,
The sky was abundant with hues of flame,
Yet no one aboard could name the game.
A sketch of dreams pinned to every seat,
Drawn in charcoal, worn and incomplete,
They whispered tales both grim and glorious,
Led by a guide most notorious.
Olivia! Nice seeing you here, I love your poem. I think we should use it in our future classroom to help build literacy
Tammi, I didn’t get to this until today, but this was a really fun prompt! I used this random Pictionary word generator: https://randomwordgenerator.com/pictionary.php
The word “Everglades” was one of the first ones to come up, and it called to mind a photo I have of my self and my two friends taking turns driving an airboat through the Florida Everglades — the airboat guide actually let us drive it, lol. I don’t have the pic to show, but it inspired the poem and brought all of those random words to life!
We thought we were kings of the world:
zipping an airboat through the Everglades,
our guide, Ernie Redwing at our sides. In my opinion,
we were simply interning at the job of life.
Subsequent years dictated obligations.
Plots thickened
and loss infected us.
But here, in this picture, you were my doppelganger.
I had no doubt
that each day would be a slam dunk
and that this, our realm, our playworld,
with the beat of Miami steel drums in the background,
held the depth of our love and the height of the dance.
Wendy, what a sweet poem that came out of your generated words. Isn’t that a sweet miracle that you wouldn’t have written this poem without the prompt and your word list. I love the “held the depth of our love and the height of the dance.”
Wendy, thank you for your poem I amazed by how many generated words you were able to fit into your poem. Next time I may try generating words towards a specific topic as well.
my random words from the word generator.
My 2 minute quick write:
Breaths discreet as feet
soft along the plush carpet floor
of the new home.
Floorboards underneath taut and young
nailed together so confidently.
Not given a chance to age gracefully.
These floors won’t creak and groan until we are long gone.
The bones old and achy.
Until then these sterile details clue us in.
The unknown reaches hidden therein,
The house could be part of a home
the home can never be part of the house
which stands in line, row upon row
shoulder to shoulder with all of it’s twins.
Luke, I see a new suburban addition where the condos, townhouses, and homes all look the same. I love the sounds within your poem, especially the s’s in your first line. I also enjoyed “Until then these sterile details clue us in”.
Tammi, what a magical poem you created with those words. I love the story you told with such disparate words. The city girl stuck fly fishing. Lovely.
I used a word generator to get these words, not nearly as interesting as yours.
Change
Premium
Minority
Relieve
Memorial
Scream
Conflict
Rest
Establish
Tumor
When the day is almost finished,
and you are relieved to not be going
to dinner, you rest in the change.
Sadness and disappointment establish
a premium of anger, as you watch
the rabbits scream and jump at each other
in conflict over the carrot scraps.
You are having a birthday celebration,
not a memorial service. The old agitation,
like a tumor, squeezes out your resolve.
Then your day finally finishes with piano
music and a warm bath. A minority of
your days are like this one.
Praise be to heaven.
Denise,
I see many contrasts creating paradoxes in your poem: a birthday celebration that feels like a memorial being the central one. Those are hard days. Then rest finally co
ex and gives release in these final li es:
“A minority of
your days are like this one.
Praise be to heaven.”
I‘feeling these ideas!
Denise,
I feel the conflicting emotions throughout this poem and the melancholy is palpable. I can relate to this. I hope your days of music and warm baths become more frequent.
Denise, I am quite intrigued by your poem’s tone. I sense conflicting emotions, a sense of relief, but perhaps anger too. I found your lines “You are having a birthday celebration,
not a memorial service. The old agitation,
like a tumor, squeezes out your resolve.” particularly compelling. The ending line praise is provocative. Quite the list to work with!
Denise, the words you got from a generator are definitely calling for a conflict, and you deliver one of the hefty inner turmoil. This realization is striking: “You are having a birthday celebration, not a memorial service.” It sounds grim, but then the day finishes with “piano music and bath,” and it rekindles hope, supported by the note that these are a minority of days from the speaker’s life.
Tammi,
Thanks for hosting and for your lovely mentor poem. The fly fishing imagery is evocative of some of my favorite places here in the west.
I used a random word generator and returned to a favorite poem, Mac Flecknoe by John Dryden, for inspiration.
Weakness
Weakness is
a tiny-hand orangeboi like
lMac Flecknoe; a corpulent
carcass perched behind the
little desk, hiding in a gilded facade,
Sharpie-signing the daily EO curse.
Weakness
cos-plays in our realm
like that rotund ruler
immortalized in verse.
Weakness
garbles grammar & wages
war with wit—wisdom, too,
as it mutters nonsense absolute
Weakness
casts a beady-eyed vulture gaze
upon the false-faced crew who
witness unconstitutional abuse.
Weakness:
as—the poet wrote long ago—
never deviates into sense
but will be immortalized
in the annals of full-blown
narcissistic nonsense.
Glenda Funk
4-18-25
Glenda- the framing statement is perfect. We are witnessing weakness. What you do after the framing statements is masterful. The way you play with consonance and alliteration is really great! The “beady eyed vulture gaze”
is my favorite line!
Glenda, wow. So many phrases here that are as sharp as knives. “narcissistic nonsense” , “cast a beady-eyed vulture gaze” and “that rotund ruler immortalized in verse” are just a few stunning ones. That third stanza with the alliterative magic is beautiful. Yes, weakness, all of it. And it makes me sad again.
Glenda,
This is the sad truth! You’ve described our orange leader’s weaknesses perfectly. If this wasn’t reality, I’d be laughing at the absurdity of it all. My favorite stanza
“garbles grammar & wages
war with wit—wisdom, too,
as it mutters nonsense absolute”
Glenda, what an apt title and poetic diatribe for the weakness we see taking place on the national stage each day. I am deeply impressed with the language you’ve used to describe the weakness. I especially enjoyed “carcass perched” “garbles grammar” “mutters nonsense absolute” and “beady-eyed vulture” to name just a few. Your final line says it all “narcissistic nonsense” oh yes, indeed! Brilliant, powerful poem!
Glenda, your poem explores various images/occurrences of weakness. This one is striking with added power of alliteration:
“Weakness
garbles grammar & wages
war with wit—wisdom, too,
as it mutters nonsense absolute.”
Thanks for sharing your poetry today! I am signing off for the night but will check back tomorrow for any late responders!
Tammi–this is an amazing idea! It reminded me of freestyling at a show and taking word suggestions from the crowd and working them into your rhymes, except less stressful! I did a random word search and I asked for 14 words so I could try to write a sonnet. The results are a little wonky, but I got it done!
My words are: overcharge, check, territory, permission, thanks, law, pot, wheel, apparatus, definite, useful, gallery, soul, explode
What is it to decree preference as law?
Useful charades played to keep us in check,
I charge–overcharge!–It must stand no more,
all hands on deck before the bark’s wreck’d,
our ship’s adrift in a new territory,
“For the people” implies our permission,
our stolen soul, our national story,
demanding thanks, while forcing submission,
a rogue’s gallery fills spots once esteemed,
turning the wheel towards a rocky crag,
only through us, apparatus redeemed,
explode this tyranny, take back our flag,
an ace up the sleeve should not win the pot,
choosing God’s law is our definite lot!
Dave —
I love how you crafted your random words into a sonnet!
We definitely need “all hands on deck before the bark’s wreck’d,/
our ship’s adrift in a new territory.”
This — “a rogue’s gallery fills spots once esteemed” is so true!
The whole metaphor of our nation being a ship adrift and about to wreck is so timely right now.
Dave, well done! Random words and a sonnet! And I love your line “all hands on deck before the bark’s wrecked.”
Dave,
I see we are channeling the same waterways today. Bravo! Your poem reminds me of O’ Captain! My Captain in the ship metaphor, but we know the two captains are nothing alike since the one now is not guiding us safely into harbor but sending us to the craggily shore.
“explode this tyranny, take back our flag” is the battle cry I’m here for. Well done!
Oh, yes! Dave, that is amazing. 14 words and a sonnet with the rhyme scheme and all. “take back our flag” Yes, indeed! Hear, hear! Great poem with all the wonks and everything!
Tammi–what a prompt! I wanted to resist–to find something that was somehow easier, but random called my name…and here goes!
Here are the words: iridescent, lilac, exotic, polka dot, legend, zebra, wears, parchment, eye shadow, blackberry
By the Numbers
Tumbling dice conjure
visions of eyes
shadowed in iridescent lilac
bodies wrapped in zebra skins
exotic lifestyle
of the rich or the reckless
My numbers roll out
dressed in jeans and tennies
alarm clocks and speed limits
sets of 23
to match those 46 eyes
that polka dot my classroom every day
I count myself lucky
wearing ordinary
as a golden crown
bejeweled in blackberries
warmed by the sun of their smiles
marked in violet on life’s parchment
a legend in the eyes of children
Kim Douillard
4/18/25
https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2025/04/18/random-words-npm25-day-18/
Kim–
I love how you wove in those words and especially this stanza:
“bejeweled in blackberries
warmed by the sun of their smiles
marked in violet on life’s parchment
a legend in the eyes of children”
That does sound lucky, those beautiful phrases in your last stanza. “warmed by the sun of their smiles” and “bejeweled in blackberries” Wow!
I love the feeling of content your words portray and how happy you are in the last stanza!
Here are the eight random words generated by Word Generator:
Grant
Thank
Capture
Game
Simplicity
Dialect
represent
And here is my tight little poem!
This was a fun exercise in working within constraints. I will definitely use this with students. Thank you!
A Prayer of Random Words
Grant me simplicity.
Let me capture each dialect.
Teach me to represent all.
This is not a game.
Thank you.
Allison —
“Teach me to represent all” — Yes! We need more of this sensitivity towards others, especially now.
Oh I love the simplicity of this poem! (Simplicity granted!) You linked all the words together so seamlessly.
Allison, such a power in a few words – every one of them carefully placed. Bravo!
And this is what makes you a very special teacher! I love this so much, Allison. Imagine how much better our classrooms and world would be if all prayed this prayer and acted upon it.
Wow! Love the brevity–straight to the heart! This is not a game–perfect!
Allison— You are so right… it is not a game. Your prayer… with this woman who isn’t inclined to pray, you have me appreciating every word of this prayer. Now more than ever, I worry for every “dialect” …for teachers trying to uphold the sense of what is fair and just for “all.” All in face of something we’ve never seen in our lifetime. If only it were simple. Thank you for writing this. Susie
Fantastic poem, Allison. I love your title, opening line, and especially the line “Teach me to represent all”. Thank you is a solid ending line and is full of grace!
Perfect, Allison! Quite profound and so succinct! “This is not a game.” Truth. Thank you!
Nicely done, Allison! I love how you made this poem so compact.
Allison! I enjoyed reading your poem, so short and sweet. I loved your first three lines, especially the inclusiveness you bring to this poem. Thank you
Thank you for the prompt, Tammi! You weaved in your words beautifully into poem. I chose 7 random phrases and got:
Down And Out
Talk the Talk
Go Out On a Limb
Quality Time
Mountain Out of a Molehill
A Piece of Cake
Under Your Nose
Today, I struggled writing, and after a few tries, decided to arrange a poem in haikus. Still feels like a rough draft:
Right Under Your Nose
Down and out again,
the garden still tilts its face
bold toward the morning.
Talk the talk, they say—
but I would rather murmur
to seeds underground.
Go out on a limb,
where bruised plums and sweet mistakes
ripen side by side.
Quality time slips
between the ribs of long days,
gold we never name.
A mountain rises,
out of a stubborn molehill—
I climb anyway.
Not a piece of cake,
but crumbs of wonder scatter
along the worn trail.
Right under your nose,
the world kneels in quiet bloom—
waiting to be seen.
Excellent! The world kneels in quiet bloom!!
very creative
These are such uplifting haikus. Difficult to choose a favourite line. Placing bruised plums and sweet mistakes side by side and let them ripen is more than serendipity – this is a genius!
Leilya,
It was such a pleasure to read the phrases and then watch you turn them into poetry. Talk
“Talk the talk, they say—
but I would rather murmur
to seeds underground.”
Beautiful!
Leilya — I love what you have done with these random phrases. Especially, love this stanza:
“Not a piece of cake,
but crumbs of wonder scatter
along the worn trail.” It leave me thinking of fairy tales and imagination.
but I would rather murmur to seeds underground–I love that line! I also love that reaching for structure helped you poem today. Beautiful!
Oh my gosh, Leilya, your poem is gorgeous! I love the exquisite imagery and actions throughout it. I especially enjoyed sweet mistakes, and your ending is phenomenal!
Leilya,
Im struggling too and so appreciate the lovely imagery in your haiku. “the world kneels in quiet bloom—“ reminds me that nature teaches us to be humble.
This was fun. Thanks Tammi. I put my randomly generated words in italics.
Cell Phone Anger
It was automatic
she got into an argument with him
over his cell phone.
Why is his face
always pointed at it
rather than facing her?
She doesn’t like his tone.
She questions the creation
and his fixation
with such an imposing instrument.
Taking a deep breath, she figures she
should let her irritation slide.
Maybe her anger will settle and hide.
After all, he’s quite the dude.
Even though he is rude,
he wouldn’t harm a fly.
Susan, you arranged the random words skillfully. I like your rhymes that add sound effect to the poem’s cadence. These lines made me smile:
“After all, he’s quite the dude.
Even though he is rude.”
I’m so impressed that you could work in rhyming along with the random words AND have your poem tell a story. Great word crafting today, Susan!
Susan — Your random words work so well in this narrative poem. It is definitely a story we can relate, too. I wonder how different our world would be without “the creation/and” “fixation.”
Ha, Susan!! I often wonder if anyone else sees how many people are out with their mates but glued to their phones. It’s so sad to me. I hope the person doesn’t let him get away with ignoring her. She deserves better. Being rude does harm the same way as any other act of unkindness. Kick him to the curb!
I like how your poem addresses the problem with phones when it comes to developing a solid relationship with another person. Very provocative poem!
I tried the random word generator several times today, looking for inspiration but found none. And then, voila, a mile from my house, on the way to play tennis, inspiration struck in the form of a sight I have literally never witnessed in all the years I’ve lived in this town.
All that is wrong with organized religion
I saw outside the dollar store today.
Holding hands,
a group of people, mostly elderly,
heads bowed in prayer
in the grass beside the parking lot
of the Dollar General.
Cars whizzing by on a busy rural road,
how could the drivers not notice
this out of place prayer circle,
particularly the giant cross that
two of them held between them.
I imagine the notice in the newspaper
“Open to all:
Friday, 3:45 pm prayer circle.
Gather in the grass of the dollar store.
Look for the giant cross.”
God didn’t ask for prayer to be this conspicuous.
As I was reading I was trying to figure out where your poem was going. Your last 6 lines really pulled it together. The last line really gives the reader something to think about.
Cheri,
Wow! What a sight. Your first line –“All that is wrong with organized religion”– pulled me in immediately and I could totally see this image. I agree with your last line “God didn’t ask for prayer to be this conspicious.”
Very interesting, Cheri. I wonder why they felt the need to gather in front of that store and add to it a giant cross. Hmmm.
Tammi, thank you for your fun prompt and word generator links.
Elusive
on rare occasions
spirit bear appears
for two rain-soaked days
the photographer follows
ravenous for the perfect
wide-ranged angle
a portrait of intimacy
but the jungle is too foggy
the bear too elusive
like faith and afterlife
Barb Edler
18 April 2025
This has an ethereal feel with spirit, afterlife and faith. Good use of words.
Barb, you made it look so easy! You made that spirit bear quite mysterious: “the bear too elusive / like faith and afterlife.” This ending makes me think about spirits, faith, afterlife. Quite provocative!
I was thinking that photographer was ’bout to get ‘et by that bear. Love the title – – elusive bear – – elusive like faith and afterlife…..so thought provoking and mysterious. I didn’t think I would read a poem about a spirit bear when I woke up this morning, but I loved every line of this, right into the foggy jungle.
Barb, I see your spirit bear on rain-soaked days.
I was intrigued by NOT knowing which words were the randomized ones and which were your own.
You turned this exercise into something beautiful in your final lines:
“…the bear too elusive like faith and afterlife.”
I feel this deeply.
Barb — I love the pairing of the bear and the afterlife. It reminds me of animal spirits in the Native American culture.
Barb,
”Elusive” is a multilayered word here, reminding me the way is often unclear (fog imagery) and life is full of doubt. I’m feeling that way these days.
I used my kids as my random word generators, so it obviously ended up being a poem about ice cream.
Rainbow Sherbet
Not my number one
but certainly nostalgic,
it rings of childhood.
A short plea from my daughter –
I caved and bought the ice cream.
Yes, to the end of your poem! Love it and your title!
I, too, love the title, Rachel! What wouldn’t we do for a child? Ice-cream sounds good.
Rachel, isn’t it funny how often we use the term “caved” when we concede to the wishes of another! Well, at least this time brought back fond childhood memories.
Rachel,
I love that your kids generated your words for you! They picked a great topic! What’s not to love about ice cream!
Thanks for taking me in a new direction today, Tammi. I decided to focus on a word that has always felt “random” to me.
Remuneration
The word always trips me up.
I expect the n before the m,
like in numeral. Because isn’t pay
about numbers?
But maybe that’s
the point: that true compensation
means more than dollars, more
than a check. When I spell it,
I remind myself that in the middle
is a full moon, always meaning
more to us than itself.
Kate, your focus on remuneration is brilliant, but I absolutely love your metaphor at the end.
Gosh, Kate, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about the word but clearly it should be renumeration! Wow. Very interesting. Thank you for sharing. I love the moon reference because that’s about the only way my brain would allow REMUNERATION!
Kate, the words always fascinate me. Your poem brings into focus a word that I also think should be spelled with “n” first. Like Narb, I appreciate the metaphor of a full moon in the end. Wonderful poem!
What a fun way to help us, and our students, remember how to spell a word. We did for onoMATopoeia. There’s a MAT in the MIDDLE!
I like your way of letting us know when get underpaid, not to worry, it means more than dollars to be a good educator! Ha!
Amazing! The pay hitting your bank account does feel like the full moon rising. But it soon wanes to a thin sliver and then you have to wait and wait for the the next full moon. Gosh! Now I can see a cow leaping over the full moon! I’m sure I will never spell wrong renum, remum, renun, remoon … oh just leave it!
Kate,
Remuneration is a word that I struggle to pronounce. I kept wanting to switch the m and n, too. I really love what you did with this poem because it felt like a puzzle to me. I also realized that I maybe I hadn’t ever used the word remuneration before or even knew what it meant. Now I want to find a reason to use it!
Kate, I love this rumination on “Remuneration”! I won’t forget the spelling of this now because of your clever insights. Thank you!
I’ll be honest with you,
I’d rather not stake my
reputation, or hang the
whole of my identity, on
the fact that if you flip
a piece of buttered toast
in the air, it’s gonna land
face down: every. single. time.
Because according to
science, (at least what
science appears to mean
in this Internet day and age
of flexible ethics and lazy
research skills, which dictates
that I google the question
and then cite the first source
I find that agrees with me)
the whole “toast will
always fall butter side
down” is a myth; it’s
actually more like a
coin toss, and now, come
to think of it, how many of our
problems in this wide
wide world of ours
would be made better
by being decided upon
by a flip of buttered toast?
Ok, so, none. Not a one of them.
And Pro Tip: just don’t drop
your buttered toast;
that could save you
from having to clean
up a mess.
_______________________________________
Tammi, thank you for your poem and prompt today! I really enjoyed using the random word generator and playing with the five words that it gave me: toast, identity, mess, tip, flexible.
Very fun poem, Scott. I really appreciate the way your poem progresses to the final conclusion that flipping a piece of buttered toast really wouldn’t solve any problem well. Yes, it would be simply a mess!
Haha so fun. One benefit of deciding things with flipped toast vs coins would be more laughter!! Just like your poem brings. Thanks!
Scott, who else could get toast, identity, and tip randomly in one list? Lol. And you delivered as always. Love your Pro Tip ))
Needed your humor today, Scott. It reminded me of Dr. Seuss’ Butter Battle Book. No matter which side you butter your bread this world will keep on spinning and unfortunately, fighting
I really like the conversation this poem implies. I could see this as a monologue in a sitcom.
I love this poem and how it challenges the butter-side-up hypothesis. And the piece of wisdom about how people so readily flip logic on its head ‘in this Internet day and age of flexible ethics and lazy research skills”.
Scott,
This poem is so fun! I love how you progress from the silly flipping of toast to the suggestion that world problems might be solved better by flipping toast and then back to the realization that that wont’ solve our problems either. The casual conversation is brilliant too.
I also wanted to offer my heartfelt condolences on the loss of your father.
Scott,
This is a delight to read! You take the most arbitrary of subjects and hang weighty cultural commentary onto the (seemingly) nonchalant rumination on said subject. It’s fun to see where you take us, but the real payoff is in the razor sharp insights embedded in the poem.
Tammi, thank you for a fun prompt. I’m keeping you and your loved ones in my thoughts and heart today.
The random words generated: camp, notebook, discussion, wire,
friend, smother, coil, contest, hurried,burlyOn Writing as Healing
I sometimes smother myself
in words like a campfire
encompassing marshmallows
I touch pages of my tattered notebook
tapping my pen on the wire coils
binding my thought world together
I hold discussions with suffering
and contest unjust and hurried decisions
that prolong humanity’s pain
Instead of grieving, I write a poem
to eulogize justice and joy
healing and love
and hold space
for all that is well in my soul.
© Stacey L. Joy, 4/18/25
Stacey, I’m in awe of how you were able to weave all these words together in such a lovely poem. I find the imagery in your first two stanzas particularly striking.
Stacey, your final stanza is poignant and powerful. I love how you’ve bolded your word choices and the way your message progresses. The image of smothering yourself in words is fascinating.
Stacey, what a powerful poem today! You are on fire with the first lines:
“I sometimes smother myself
in words like a campfire.”
The final stanza is a true celebration of you as a poet. Incredible poem!
Beautiful, Stacey. Love all the images you create especially the “encompassing marshmallows.”
Stacey, I see hope and compassion in your poem. The “tattered notebook” seems like a testimony to pearls of wisdom collected in quiet musings. Don’t we all need that space where the soul can heal! Thank you!
Stacey,
Love all the images you’ve created in your poem and especially these lines —
“Instead of grieving, I write a poem
to eulogize justice and joy
healing and love”
Love Reading More
I hated to read as a child.
It didn’t capture my imagination
like a net catches a butterfly.
I had to wrestle with the pages and
let the words ooze out of my fists.
Was the fight worth the reward?
Now, my mind glides on the backs of words.
The struggle helped me
love reading more.
Melissa,
This stanza —
“I had to wrestle with the pages and
let the words ooze out of my fists—
always wondering if the reward was worth the fight” — what a powerful expression of your struggle. I am so happy to hear you fell in love with reading despite the the challenge.
Melissa, thanks for sharing your reading journey with us. I adore your middle stanza. The imagery is just perfect!
Melissa, your poem will encourage many of us to keep providing in-class time for students to work through the struggles of reading in ways they probably wouldn’t at home. The hard work for us AND for them pays off in the end, especially when they FINALLY find a book that “speaks” to and for them. Keep up the good work.
Hi Tammi. Last year when I was in Belfast visiting Seamus Heaney’s HomePlace I was fortunate to hear and meet Maura Johnston, a contemporary of and expert in all things Heaney. Yesterday I finally sat down to read her book From Aftergrass to Yellow Boots: A Glossary of Seamus Heaney’s Hearth Language. I loved her explanations of the words that tie Heaney’s poetry to very specific Irish places he wrote about. I closed the book thinking it would be cool to try to use some of his words in a poem, and then your prompt serendipitously appeared! Here’s my attempt using Heaney’s language.
Dinnsheanchas
By Mo Daley 4/18/25
We stood atop the fair-hill, he and I,
watching the cub part from his wages
for a catchpenny trinket,
sure he’d catch a dunting when he got home,
but alas, we all have to do our station.
We turned to head home before
the banshee let out her shrill wail
and we saw the mirled gorlet of the bullfinch
through the foxfire, and we walk
on air, against our better judgement.
*A line from “The Gravel Walks” is Heaney’s epitaph, “Walk on air against your better judgement”
Whoa. This word. These words. I love imagining “on air” and all meanings here. Safety from the banshee or a way of doing “our station.” Such fun granted some words I don’t know, so it may not be all fun.
Mo,
Weaving in Heaney’s words really works here to make me feel like I am standing on a hill in Ireland! Love the way you’ve painted of the picture bullfinch and cub.
I love “milled goblet of the bullfinch”! Heaney and his language… he brought Beowulf to pulsating life for my students. And your poem brought my dear Ireland to life for me today!
I love the audio of his Beowulf!
Mo, I love this. What a fun way to capture a writer’s style and celebrate their language. The ending is beautiful.
I read your poem before reading the explanation and was intrigued by the word choices and it seemed to take me back to a former time. And then your explanation made it all true. Well done!
Mouth-watering
No-Brainer
Elvis Has Left The Building
Drive Me Nuts
Dropping Like Flies
What a fun prompt! Unfortunately, we’re now in centering the line mode, so I guess my poem will be centered today. I used the phrase generator and got the list above. Now for the poem:
It’s 1:55 on a Friday afternoon.
The sun has decided the weekend started Thursday and is nowhere to be found.
My brain cells are dropping like flies.
It’s also Easter weekend,
and I’ve been combing through cookbooks to plan my
mouth-watering menu for Easter dinner.
There will be deviled eggs.
That’s a no-brainer.
And ham. And this fancy Wensleydale cheese I found at ALDI.
Why are egg prices so high?
I mean, I know why– bird flu–
But almost $7 a dozen, if it keeps up, will drive me nuts.
Kinda makes me wish I had chickens.
But not really– I want neighbors who share eggs instead.
Elvis has left the building, and so has my brain.
Aww man, the format got messed up– these were supposed to be 3-line stanzas, and the centering was kind of a cool effect. Elvis really has left the building . . .
Sheila,
Love the light-hearted tone of your poem. “There will be deviled eggs./That’s a no-brainer” — same for us!
These lines had me smiling “Kinda makes me wish I had chickens/But not really– I want neighbors who share eggs instead” as my son has been planning on raising hens for eggs. I am wishing the same thing!
Oh my, that last line is everything. I can relate. And Aldi. Yes.
Hahaha—I had exactly the same thought about chickens lately. Good luck with your Easter meal!
Verdant
a word that tastes like spring
on the tongue,
soft with moss and promise.
It breathes in the hush
of leaves waking
to the sun’s slow whisper,
the stretch of ivy fingers
reaching for stone
like memory clinging
to the ruins.
There is no need for rhyme
in a world this green.
Only the quiet hum
of roots deep in the dark,
the bold exhale of ferns
uncurling into light.
Verdant is not loud—
it thrives in the silences
between thunder,
grows through cracks
in the sidewalk,
steadfast and soft.
It is the first shade of hope
after fire,
the patient rebellion
of chlorophyll,
the color of what refuses
to die quietly.
Ooh, this is lovely! I love the soft sounds throughout this poem: “soft with moss and promise,” “the patient rebellion of clorophyll,” “the quiet hum of roots deep in the dark.” “Verdant” is in the first line of my high school’s class song (“verdant hills reflect our colors bright”)– I’ve never heard it anywhere else. Your version is better.
Gleaming… This is a perfect homage to verdant. My favorite image “the bold exhale of ferns/uncurling into light.” Exquisite. It breathes movement into setting. Thank you! Susie
I loved your imagery. My favorite stanza was…”A word that tastes like spring
on the tongue, soft with moss and promise.” Love! Love!
This is beautiful! I love how you have taken just one word and given it so much meaning. The imagery is just gorgeous!
This is my favorite stanza:
“There is no need for rhyme
in a world this green.
Only the quiet hum
of roots deep in the dark,
the bold exhale of ferns
uncurling into light”
My favorite lines: “There is no need for rhyme / in a world this green.” They say so much about how spring makes the heart skip!
7 random words: relate, notorious, copy, species, eavesdrop, despair, genes
rich is our family history
wandering the aisles
a notorious grocery
I search for dinner, with
quick eavesdrop as poetry
“on sale, and fair trade, too!”
yes, copy that! I decide
I follow their voice
for sweet species to find
despair soothed by dark
chocolate, the ideal sate
I blame my genes
perhaps you can relate?
Maureen – You had me chuckling in harmony as I was nibbling chocolate just moments ago. I certainly “can relate “ Susie
Maureen,
Oh, yes! I can relate! This —despair soothed by dark/chocolate, the ideal sate” –-most definitely.
Hahaha… 78% dark chocolate and tea are my morning ritual to arm me for the day!
Maureen, your poem took me on an interesting grocery store adventure. Loved your line “despair soothed by dark/chocolate”. Irresistible!
Thank you for your cool prompt. I learned and read about several random words; however, oddly, I had more writer’s block than ever. I circled back to a poem I wrote last summer. I highlighted the random words there.
my thumb traces whispery hearts
over the strong soft drum of your inner wrist
I consciously melt
——relax your jaw, release your shoulders, be present——
into the bed and a love I am forever conjuring
my moonstone polish scatters the few rays of dawn that have snuck under the blind
while feathery motes dart into sight and pulse in and out
like mischievous fairies
flying high as the beams bend
a bedroom ballet
a captive audience
——present, soft shoulders and jaw, a desire to tense into awe——
my fingertips mimic their music
dance soft pirouettes across the thick of your palm
entranced they find their way up and rest twitching atop yours
all firmness
support
submission
an incredibly erotic present moment
seared like a brand or spell into my memory
——rose quartz, queen of cups, perfumed pillows——
claiming me as yours
Kasey — Love the beautiful images “my thumb traces whispery hearts
over the strong soft drum of your inner wrist” and longing you convey in your poem. Such emotion and intimacy. Absolutely beautiful!
I love that you revisited an earlier poem, introducing these random words. There are so many beautiful lines of very small movements in your poem, adding both eroticism and magic, I think – feathery motes, fingertips dancing, tensing into awe. Well done! A wonderful love poem for a special someone, I think
I’ll try again. Today, being Good Friday, a sacred holiday in the faith I practice, I decided to see what “random” phrases could be linked to this observance. I requested ten phases. The BOLD font is what was generated. The plain font is what I wrote. I realize some here may not actively practice Christianity, so bear with me.
What’s Good About It?
Keep On Truckin’
Could be what Christ told the disciples who were worried about their future
Swinging For the Fences
May have been His encouragement during the Maundy Thursday Last Supper
A Home Bird
Some disciples left for home, fearful of being connected with Christ
Money Doesn’t Grow On Trees
Could be what He told them, “You gotta pay for what you get.”
A Little Bird Told Me
Could be the prophecies that the disciples later recalled
Cup Of Joe
Could be what Christ preferred rather than that vinegar on a sponge
Off One’s Base
Herod and Pilate may have thought this when crowds cried, “Crucify Him!”
On Cloud Nine
Could be the motion of the thief when Christ told him, “Today you’ll be with me in Paradise”
Eat My Hat
Not likely many at the cross that Friday felt this confident that all would be well.
I love your Good Friday takes on these phrases. My favorite is On Cloud Nine. “Jesus Remember Me When You Come Into Your Kingdom.” I can imagine that thief being On Cloud Nine after hearing Jesus’ response.
This is so clever! I love that you shared your faith with us! Happy Easter!
Anna
Your random phrase connection to Good Friday was so creative. May favorite was
“Cup Of Joe
Could be what Christ preferred rather than that vinegar on a sponge”
I’d agree coffee would definitely have been better than vinegar on a sponge.
Today is Good Friday, a sacred holiday in the faith I practice. I decided to see what “random” phrases could be linked to this observance. I requested ten phases. The BOLD font is what was generated. The plain font is what I wrote. I realize some here may not actively practice Christianity, so bear with me. No rhymng today.
Keep On Truckin’
Could be what Christ told the disciples when they worried about their future
Swinging For the Fences;
Could have been His encouragement during the Maundy Thursday Last Supper
A Home Bird
Some disciples left for home, fearful of being connected with Christ
Money Doesn’t Grow On Trees
Could be what He told them.” You gotta pay for what you get.”
A Little Bird Told Me
Could be the prophecies that the disciples later recalled
Cup Of Joe
Could be what Christ preferred rather than vinegar on a sponge
Off One’s Base
Herod and Pilate may have thought this when crowds cried, “Crucify Him!”
On Cloud Nine
Emotion of the thief when Christ told him, “Today you’ll be with me in Paradise”!
Eat My Hat
Few at the cross that Friday felt confident that all would be well.
Anna, you had done tough phrases to work with, but you pulled it off! Well done. The cup of Joe line made me smile.
Anna, this is so clever! I love many of your responses. This one about the Cup of Joe and Off One’s Base are terrific. I never would have thought about tying in these phrases with our Holy Days. Happy Easter!
Tammi, I love this prompt and appreciate the ideas for using it with my students. While I love nature, I don’t think fly-fishing is in my wheelhouse, but I could feel the longing for that sourdough bread!
Reasonable
“Be reasonable,” they say.
Reasonable? What even is reasonable?
What is a reasonable amount of
love,
grief,
laugher,
work,
relaxation,
play,
exercise,
or dessert?
What is
sensible,
rational,
logical,
practical,
appropriate,
feasible,
realistic,
or judicious for one person
is not always, if ever, the same
for another person.
So, yes,
I will be reasonable –
reasonable about what satisfies
my needs and wants
hopes and dreams.
Just don’t be disappointed
if it’s not what you expected.
You are so right — REASONABLE is such a subjective term. I enjoyed the list element in this poem.
I love the emphatic tone of this poem. It speaks of reclamation and independence, two things the world could use more of in these times. Thank you for sharing.
Rita — What a fantastic question you pose. “What even is reasonable?” This gets me thinking about perspective, and how we each bring different experiences to our interpretation of reasonable.
Fabulous idea to focus on one word – and, as you write so well, that word ‘reasonable’ can be so loaded. I am struck by the skinny stanzas, which are offered as argument/debate, I think.
I really like the last stanza Rita, “so, yes, I will be reasonable.” it’s very powerful in how you stand up for what is reasonable for you.
Those final two lines: boom! I love how it neatly pulls together the idea that being reasonable is a loaded term.
when i saw this prompt i got SO excited, becuase one of my favorite poems i’ve ever written was written by a random word generator! i decided to write a new poem today with new words, but i’ll comment my other poem below that i wrote a few years ago
not sure where this idea came from LOL but it is the vibe of how i feel about cocky men at bars !
competence versus cockiness
when does competence draw the line into cockiness?
fanning the flames after he’s spewed them,
rebelling, throwing words,
and punches,
and stools
as if he’d strap on brass knuckles,
and hurt, hurt, hurt,
his hatred a virus fueled by his own overconfidence,
yelling loud across the space
and i only watch, and watch, my stomach beginning to knot
as i watch him pick on a pair of girls,
wishing i could kick at his organs the way
they’re picking at their hearts.
then this is the poem i wrote a couple of years ago :)) MUCH more personal but i love this one
sod
bad night, but I survived, my mind a
cab ride with no driver,
eyes delicately seeping with guilt and sweat.
fat on my body, and I don’t feel pretty yet, because, unlike
sod, I’ve learned to resent growth.
feats of strength push me to battle my reflection, wishing to apply
mods to my mother’s creation, chastise my thighs, shame my
mode of transportation, and write a new
story where instead of feeling shame, I feel pretty when I
eat.
Your line “my mind a/cab ride with no driver” is awesome. This whole poem is! Phenomenal that random words form the start of each line, much like a golden shovel.
Molly – Both of these pieces are outstanding in their wordplay and the “kick” they deliver. I get sooo angry at the “pick on” bully bastard. But I also just want that “kick in his organs” … it is the thinking that he has the right …and the creeps that cheer… omg. And the second piece evokes another deep response at how much shaming is laced into our culture. Your mother’s beautiful creation… let it stand proud and not be made less in culture’s cruel mirror. Wonderful poems. Thank you for sharing both. Susie
Oh, what an important contemplation of nuance turned toward defining the extreme impact and the implications as we witness and notice visceral reactions “kick at his organs:
Molly — Thank you for sharing both of your poems. The image you paint with your random words in “Competence versus Cockiness” is so vivid. I see the bar and hear the obnoxiousness and feel the frustration and anger of the onlooker who wishes to “kick at his organs.”
This last line from “sod” really got me
“story where instead of feeling shame, I feel pretty when I eat.”
Wow – this is so fiery! I feel as if I am at the bar, witnessing. Great use of the random words – love how you extend a couple with “ing,” creating a slightly different meaning. Yikes the lines
are really scary!
I loved this prompt, Tammi! The word I got was “clear”. I’ve been wanting to play with fewer words and after two lines my soul said it was done. I kept trying to find more to write, to expound upon, but I think I like how broad it is because of the few words.
Clear
Is it crystal? Or
Is it mud?
Chea, I think you made the right decision; your poem is perfect!
I love the brevity of your poem.
Chea —
This poem is perfect. It says all it needs to say. Love it!
this is perfect. its short, sweet, simple, and still beautiful. it says all the reader needs to know and they still have something to think about.
I love this little gem, Chea! The opposites are powerful.
A lot to think about in a few words. Thank you.
Tammi, One of the Word Generators had one that generated weird words so I played with that during a faculty meeting. I discovered a lot of fun words to add to my The Last Word activity that I do with the students in my Language and Power class (I end each class with a new vocabulary word.).
Distracting Myself with Word Prompts in a Meeting
I sit in yet another meeting ignoring the borborygmus (intestinal rumbling caused by moving gas)
from the faculty member sitting behind me and the anserine (gooselike, stupid, silly) behavior
of the two sitting at the table across from me
I watch as the erinacious (of or like a hedgehog) reaction of the three
perfectly performing people at the front table entertains
the folks engaging in a bombilating (humming, buzzing) conversation that would
not stop. This bumfuzzled (confused, perplexed, flustered) the
speaker and the canthus (angle between the eyelids at the corner of the eye)
tightened and I wondered if the jelly donuts were esculent (eatable, fit for consumption)
or left from last interminable (endless) meeting. It didn’t matter as the numen (presiding deity)
of meetings decided to emulge (to milk or drain out) the life out of the four
blellums (lazy, talkative person) at the table by the window
by assigning them to a working group that would
require lucubration (study protracted late into the night) and the choplogic (absurdly argumentative person) of the group tried a vigesimal (based on the number twenty) round of
reasons why. The fubsy (chubby and somewhat squat) chair he sat in took
away from the argument. The nugatory (inconsequential) comments faded into
the background and I wondered about the visible oxters (armpit) on students
I can see outside of the sliver of window currently serving
as a dreamhole (an opening made in a wall let in sunlight or fresh air). The trills of
distant laughter, both commonitive (serving as reminder) and bamboozlement (confusion),
as there was a sorority formal last night. How are these students up and
feeling eellogofusciouhipoppokunurious (very good, very fine)? How do they not
have the collywobbles (bellyache) or feel crapulous (to feel sick because of excessive
eating and drinking) after downing a Balthasar (oversized wine bottle about 16
times the volume of a normal bottle). Today, I want to be a flibbertigibbet (frivolous, flighty, or excessively talkative person), to bibble (to eat or drink noisily) tacos or pizza and mojitos,
to cause a fracas (a disorderly brawl), to take a postprandial (afer a meal) nap…
but I choose to accinge (to gird) my loins, to ignore the shambolic (chaotic, disorganized)
list of to dos, to avoid my own attempts to lollygag (to dawdle, to waste time) to hide the need to engage my vellichor (strange wistfulness of used bookstores), and
to dream of a zizz (short nap or sleep) as I listened to the lamprophony (loudness and clarity of enunciation) of the current speaker. I really want to absquatulate (leave)
and engage in epeolatry (worship of words) at a jazzetry (poetry read to jazz accompaniment).
So many great words here, Melanie! And I love the idea of ending class by learning a new word. I might steal that!
Let me know if you want the slides I have! Happy to share…
That would be wonderful!!
Melanie, I have enjoyed your poetry this month and see your way with words and style of poem-ing across these prompts. Your verse explores and uncovers beautifully as inquiry and curiosity. Oh, to dream of zizz.
Thank you, Sarah, I appreciate it so much.
I love this on so many levels! I printed out a copy for myself so that I could learn some new words.
Thank you so much! This makes my day.
Melanie — This is fantastic! I love all the weird words you’ve included. I am getting a vocabualry lesson for sure. I hope the poetry writing with weird words made your meeting go more quickly. I think I want to explore some jazzetry.
Thank you so much!
Tammi, I love how random word generators get us thinking in a new direction. I’ve never been fly fishing, so I could relate to your character who wishes to be doing something else.
I was tutoring a young poet this morning and we looked at the Barred Owl Cam: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/cams/barred-owls/. We made a jot list and looked at what ChatGPT had to say about barred owlets. Then we each wrote a Things to Do poem. Here is mine:
Things to Do if You’re a Barred Owlet
Curl up under mother’s wings.
Fluff like a cotton ball.
Taste bits of bunny.
Cozy in a corner of blue down feathers.
Watch with wide owl eyes.
Sleep the day away.
Omg these lines are described so well:
“Fluff like a cotton ball.
Taste bits of bunny.”
I absolutely love the description of your process with your student! Nurturing and adorable, just like your poem!
Margaret –I love how you threaded in “taste bits of bunny” into the cozy image of an owlet under it’s mother’s wings. This poem really captures nature.
“Taste bits of bunny” is such a great line! And now that I know there’s a Barred Owl Cam, I will be spending a lot of time using it . . . I love barred owls. I hear them all the time in my neighborhood but rarely see them. Fun fact: juvenile barred owls sound like howler monkeys.
Margaret – A barred owl lives among the pines behind my bedroom window… as do the bunnies. I love hearing him and thinking of your poem minus munching the bunny bits. But ya know, an owl has to do what an owl has to do. Wonderful poem. Susie
MUSK
a random word,
musk,
comes to mind,
though I wish not,
but it hangs there
a fleshy tissue sac
under the abdominal skin,
thought to resemble a scrotum,
emitting glandular goo
from a musk deer,
musk beetle,
musk duck,
musk shrew,
musk ox,
musk turtle,
muskrat,
an odor
with carcinogenic properties
I eschew;
a reminder,
a pheromone
in search
of a target.
by Susie Morice, April 18, 2025©
Susie, EW. Why am I reading this a third time?!? I guess it speaks to your genius way with words, no matter how much “I wish not” to read some parts. Hahahaha. Nice.
Oh, what a word, Susie. Brings me back to my childhood working at a pharmacy and wondering what is “musk” in the cologne/perfume section– until I read on to uncover the fleshy tissue and the scrotum, and then I have a whole other understanding for my grown up brain. Love the turn toward the range of animals and the function of musk, which I guess is to attract others like back to my pharmacy memories. Love.
Susie,
Wow! I’m definitely thinking about musk in a different way now. Love the way you pull it all together with then ending —
“a pheromone
in search
of a target.” — reminding us of the purpose of musk.
When I saw this I thought “Elon” and I am ashamed. You did such a great job exploring a complex word. I am ewwing and awwing at the same time!
Susie, OMG! This is hysterical. I love the way you describe “musk”. I have to agree this odor must have carcinogenic properties, but the “resemble a scrotum” and “emitting glandular goo” is priceless! I can’t help laughing aloud! Brilliant!
I. am. laughing. so. hard. You are such a master with wielding words and humor in such hilarious and serious ways.
This:
it hangs there
a fleshy tissue sac
under the abdominal skin
and this:
a pheromone
in search
of a target.
I am sorry you had to write this poem.
But I’m glad you did.
This writing is a hit! So funny and of course we think of Musk in so many ways. May I share this with my sisters?
Susan, Absolutely!
Susie,
Ew! I totally get the subtext to your poem and get that icky feeling when I see certain musk, too. Yes, it is
“a pheromone
in search
of a target.”
Hope it missed.
Hi Tammi, thank you for the prompt today. I love the imagery in your poem, so many good lines. But also, the idea of thinking about something to take your mind off where you are – I like that.
I took your invitation and ran with it. My chosen words come from What Kind of Times Are These by Adrienne Rich that I just read this morning on my Facebook feed. Also my first attempt at abcedarian
Uphill Revolution
A place once existed
before things fell apart
called Paradise where there was no
dread
evil
fear.
Green grass grew here
humanity was happy living
in this land. They
jived jubilantly free of judgment and
kindness was the norm.
Legend has it, their paradise
modernized, money became the new green.
No longer did some care about the
others that kept them alive.
Power became the game and some loved to play.
Quickly nutrient-rich leafmold trails turned into ghost-
ridden assembly rows.
Starved, abandoned, fooled—
this is how the newly persecuted lived in the shadows.
Until they questioned if things could re-change, this time for good.
Venturing toward the mesh of crossroads
where the path went uphill or down.
X marked the spot where the truth was
yearning to be poured on their paradise.
Zora. This is what they named their new land, the higher one.
Angie,
What a haunting picture you paint with these lines:
“Quickly nutrient-rich leafmold trails turned into ghost-
ridden assembly rows.
Starved, abandoned, fooled—
this is how the newly persecuted lived in the shadows.”
I hope we find that spot of truth again!
I love this new world, Zora. I especially like the line about re-changing.
Such an amazing poem with random words. This new world is captivating – – so many books it reminds me of – dystopian and historical and hopeful all at once. I like how you emboldened your words, too.
Good Morning, Tammi. “Fly fishing—not her choice, but she’d lost the toss.” I want to hear more about this toss! Wonderful. Thank you for this morning romp through weird words I didn’t know…Always glad for a prompt to play with new vocabulary (& to channel my inner Shel Silverstein). I searched for a list of odd words most don’t know (and now I know)(sort of).
OctothorpVerseLove25
Been mabbling mania since Monday,
quackled by the crazy caused by another week,
& frankly, I’m all for finifugaling on a Friday,
so welcome to my saccadic seminar.
Just look into these eyes
Surprise! You’ll see they’re only lies.
Besides.
I’ve always been a wabbit whiffler waffling with wonder —
a cattywampus Crandall in a caffoy coat
destined to be sabotaged on a cabotage,
as I row across this sea.
Me?…still the bumfuzzled Bry-guy
babbling with a lucky bibble
(been like this since I was ickle)
playfully punny on planted erf.
oif. Good Friday.
I’m finifugalling again.
& I know I’ve been avoiding you
But #Tag.
You’re it.
Now have some fun.
Yes, definitely fun. I love “But #Tag.
You’re it.”
Bryan — What total fun! I have to read it several times, so many new words for me, but like Jabberwocky, the very rhythm of it is delightful. Now hie to the dictionary to find the specifics. Totally my idea of fun! Susie
Bryan — Love, love, love this! Very Shel Silversteinish! And so many cool words! “Finifugalling” works brilliantly in this poem!
Oh, I had fun trying to read aloud and pronounce the words. Then, I am trying to type finifugalling– whew– again. I think you refer to yourself with endearment here — babbling with a lucky bibble…playfully punny– love this about you.
Such fun! I love the word play! I definitely love #Tag!
The combination of the wacky words and the alliteration worked wonderfully!
I love all the random words! Favorite line: “a cattywampus Crandall in a caffoy coat.”
Bryan,
I read your poem this morning before driving to Boise to be w/ my toddler grandson but had to pause—even though it’s late—and say I love the word play and sounds, many of which echo my rambunctious grandson.
I’ve always loved to paint
Walls, a canvas, my language
Bright colors, pastels, or adverbs
Anything to stop the emptiness
Of a blank wall or dull sentence
I’ve always managed to lose things
My keys grow legs and cast
Themselves off into oblivion
My house sometimes will cough
Them back up, or my kids find them
I’ve never resisted the knock
Of opportunity, too afraid
of going null.
“My keys grow legs and cast
Themselves off into oblivion”
that’s some powerful personification right there!
I love the idea and image of painting our language and painting with language and how they’re similar but not quite the same thing.
Ashley,
I can totally relate, as I have the same tendency to lose things in my house,too. I love the lines — “My house sometimes will cough/them back up” — Amazing how this happens, right?
I love this! The idea of art being your language is so beautiful.
I need a painter in my life…I can find your keys. I’m good at that. I love the lines, “Anything to stop the emptiness / of a blank wall or dull sentence.”
These words didn’t see so random. Or maybe they just perfectly matched what’s been on my mind …
Reliable, Multiply, Percent, Tolerant
Did someone check his sources?
Were they reliable?
Do cases just multiply?
“Environmental toxins” undeniable?
These claims are dangerous
for care and stigma, 1000 percent.
But buckle up, baby!
for the wrath of special needs parents!
These families are fierce,
undestroyed, and strong.
They’ll tell you the facts,
And will never tolerate wrong.
And what was that bit
about “never write a poem”?
Look at me just beating the odds!
Thanks to my neurospicy chromosomes.
The poem bobs and weaves through the frustrating misinformation to the resistant people who push back on the lunacy. I especially loved the last line as a fellow spicy brained friend.
C.O. —
When I heard RFK Jrs. stupidity on NPR, I was unfuriated! I agree families of special needs students are going to fight.
“These families are fierce,
undestroyed, and strong.
They’ll tell you the facts,
And will never tolerate wrong.”
I will support them!
This holds the potential for so much fun, Tammi. Students will LOVE it. I happened to overhear a conversation between a girl who is moving to California and her boyfriend this morning, so I told myself I was going to write about teen love no matter what words got generated for me. I also resolved to rhyme since I don’t very often.
the generated words
stone
ethereal
cast
deeply
saunter
earthquake
dull
True Teenage Love
So much around me
seems lifeless and dull . . .
nothing seems to exist
to make my heart feel full.
Then he walked up
in quite an ethereal air
my mouth hung open;
my eyes held his stare.
As I watched him saunter,
my legs turned to jelly,
and butterflies flew around
in my quite nervous belly.
When he looked at me.
my insides quiver and shake
like San Andreas
at the start of an earthquake.
My heart of stone
turned immediately to mush;
my pale, white cheeks
colored hot red with a blush.
Never have I ever
felt emotion so deeply
beholding his face
that is carved out so uniquely.
I will love him forever;
my fate has been cast.
this attraction and love
will most surely last.
~Susan Ahlbrand
18 April 2025
Susan,
You have truly captured the sweetness of teenage love in your poem. The hopeful tone and wistful lines convey the emotions in such an engaging way.
Ummm AMAZING that you knew what you wanted to write about and you used the randomly generated words to perfection! Wowza! What a poet you are. I don’t rhyme a lot either. Will have to push myself sometime. You are good at it!
Susan — Love this! The rhythm and rhyme really work and this stanza —
“When he looked at me.
my insides quiver and shake
like San Andreas
at the start of an earthquake.” especially captures the nervousness and thrill of young love.
Susan, what a fun poem. I definitely think this would pair well with Romeo and Juliet! Your lyrical words flow like a teen’s true love crush!
Whoosh, such sweet teenage love. The jelly legs and earthquake bring back all the feels of those crush days. I love the last stanza and the certainty we all felt that every crush was going to be forever – – it would never end. I get that feeling here in this poem. Lovely and I am so impressed with the rhyme on a random word poem. That puts the challenge over the top.
Random
Random are my thoughts,
Upon this life of darkness and grasshoppers,
The spray of purity misted within my soul,
Slowly transforms to the scutes of a turtle.
As I pray from my stone,
To the heavenly gnomes,
Goodwill and good gone,
Fair headed with an unfair tone.
Weeded in two thousand twenty-five,
Unfortunately alive,
Listening to the Crow’ s blue tongue,
ill advised!
Yet, I randomly wonder through meadows
Of sorrow,
Searching for golden sparrows,
Found only in tomorrow.
Listening to ants,
Becoming them,
hiding at night,
While tasked each day,
Constantly there,
This and that way,
Flustered as the dandelion,
Picked on,
but steady I stay.
My abstract is consumed
in my randomness,
Only I understand,
The perfection of a Grizzly’s nest.
For my mind never rests,
I am flawless at being the worst,
at best.
Yet, I am here, through all false fears,
Writing gibberish
Of unforgiving years.
Alligators hold my tears,
as
Folktales ring in my ears.
The grasshopper falls victim to a blue tongue,
And the Crow caws for years of work undone.
Ants are left alone,
As I finish my prayer,
And return the gnome to stone,
For I do still care?
Randomly,
abstractly,
Immense,
without me,
it makes sense.
– Boxer
Boxer —
I absolutely love the randomness of your thoughts and the vibe of your poem. There are so many vivid, cool images that really stand out—like “Flustered as the dandelion” and “Alligators hold my tears, / as / Folktales ring in my ears.” Just brilliant. It all feels so imaginative and randomly purposeful!
what a great word that inspired such a great poem. I can really see your train of thought while writing this. great work.
Tammi,
Thanks for hosting and giving us such a fun Friday prompt. I first wrote a bit of a clunker about my feelings about today’s staff development, issues with our district and our country. Then I decided to try something more whimsical with the same list. Fun to see where the random words took me. Thanks also for the teaching ideas and your poem. I’m impressed by how naturally you integrated your list. I especially liked these lines which made me imagine this character and how she got into this situation and what she might choose:
——————————————————
Harvest
The invisible mountain climber
stands off to the side
of the line at the country store’s counter
wondering how she will resupply
her provisions of trail mix, tea, and jerky
If she thinks with the precision of tiger
will she finally be able to continue
her global tour
and see
The random word generator fed me: harvest, invisible, counter, supply, precision, global, and tiger.
Sharon,
I love the narrative feel and sense of adventure you created in your poem. I was immediately pulled and worried for the mountain climber. Found myself hoping she is able to continue her tour. I also appreciate the metaphor you’ve created here as we are all going to have to think “with the precision of tiger” soon.
Such a feeling of adventure here, and survival. The tiger brings in the element of danger and risk. I love the provisions – gotta have trail mix, tea, and jerky above all. I’m a firm believer in those things! What a neat poem made with the random words. LOVE THIS!
There, after planning the final,
I’m thinking of how I’ve held memories
class pictures stacked in a box,
on a forgotten shelf until next year
like a collection of baseball cards
gathered for some future trade,
where I might tell stories of this
one arms folded, or that one throwing
a sign, or another looking away.
Now, I’m inside a new story unfolding,
sorting hundreds of stamps into some
linear order in a scrapbook to uncover
with head-downers & phone-scrollers,
waiting for them to raise their heads
until our next class picture.
I don’t know how to hold all of them,
so I’ll tuck this box away, out of sight
in case, later, I need proof that I was a
teacher once.
Oh Sarah, this is so poignant.
The shift from individuals in action:
to
is heartbreaking.
I loved your reflective, melancholy ending:
Sarah — This picture “head-downers & phone-scrollers,
waiting for them to raise their heads” of todays classroom is so true!
In Ohio we have recently passed a law to ban cell phones in classrooms. So we are seeing less of this, but it is still so prevalent in other settings. Snapping spontanteous pictures of teens is much more problematic these days since everyone’s heads are down.
Sarah — I was drawn to your poem as it reminded me so much of a friend who has kept papers and reminders of students that she taught. Believe me, you will be remembered by all your students…even the “head-downers.” No one is like you…your unique goodness is extraordinary. None of us “know how to hold all of them,” but we try…and they remember that. I love the idea of “this box” tucked away. Thank heavens you are a teacher. Thank. you! Susie
What a beautiful poem about classroom memories.
“in case, later, I need proof that I was a
teacher once.”
Yes, evidence.
I’ve wanted to do the same, Sarah. I have boxes and boxes of caged memories…they contain over a decade of passion, relationships, and dreams. I want them to stay young in those boxes, although social media has shown me they’ve grown up on me…parented high schoolers themselves. ‘in case, later’ WE ‘need proof that’ we were. Phew. Fantastic choice for a poem.
Sarah, your poem is so full of emotion. The way we remember students is fascinating and I love how you capture the everyday behaviors of students. The box of memories is fantastic, and your end is amazing.
Tammi, you have gifted my elective students with their next challenge for smash journaling! The unexpected fun of generating words is like opening multiple party gifts. Your poem really resonated with me this morning as I finished reading Deborah Wiles’s book each little bird that sings last night and your opening stanza brought it all back.
truths
beneath the midnight veil,
the words arrive, parcel-packed,
spoken in riddles,
a cobweb of history
hidden by distance
yet crossing borders
under a shrouded moon,
dropped from ancestors,
marked for delivery,
they pause,
momentarily motionless,
before encircling
this hallowed earth
to find the lips
of truth-sayers
*veil, parcel, riddle, cobweb, history, distance, border, moon, drop, marked, motionless, encircle, hallowed, earth
Yes to opening all the words like gifts! What fun to have smash journaling. I want to come to your class and do that! And your poem sparks the images of generations of people all traversing this life, traveling and learning from others as they go. I get a very strong Travels with Charley vibe here, and you know I love Steinbeck AND dogs AND a rambling camper. It’s getting harder and harder to find the truth sayers. Thank you for the gift of this poem today.
Jennifer,
this Is simply beautiful.
Each line excited my imagination.
Jennifer,
I have not read “Each Little Bird that Sings” but I just added to my TBR list and plan to look for it at my library. I love how words are personified in your poem as travelers.
I thought these lines —“spoken in riddles,/a cobweb of history” — really capture how challenging it is for truth to filter through the distortions of fact.
JENNIFER — My goodness, this is said so beautifully, eloquence PLUS. The image of truth in a “cobweb” (YES!) and the resilience of truth “crossing borders” and “dropped from ancestors” and eventually “encircling…earth” to find those who will tell the truth…This is a poem I needed this morning. It was JUST what I needed. Truth will find a way of sitting on the lips of people who need to speak truth, despite the horrors of what gets in the way of it. You are such a gift here. Thank you. Susie
How you place so many words into such a small poem perfectly I’ll never know. So beautiful I cannot choose a favorite. I’ll probably read this five or more times.
Jennifer, your opening line is compelling. I love the mystical feeling I get reading your poem. The sense of circling motions and finding “lips of truth-sayers”…wow! That’s a powerful end!
Good morning, Tammi, and thank you so much for the prompt using random words! You mastered that poem with those random words. You had me at borrowed gumboots and kept me right through the dash to the bakery. I can smell the sourdough. I took words form the word list generated by The Poetry Fox this year. When people offer him words, he writes them down and pops off a poem with the words. I photographed his word list this year and pulled some from that list: enchantment, watercolor, kindred, wisteria, dogs, hurry, and tulip. I opened with a line from a favorite hymn.
Watercolor Enchantment
I come to the garden
late afternoon
with the boys
– my kindred canine spirit dogs ~
in no hurry to be
anywhere but here
in this watercolor enchantment
of yellow, red, white and pink tulips
vibrant against the lavender wisteria
fragrant, spellbinding,
deeply rooted
in the business
of being what
they were meant
to be
In no hurry to be anywhere but here! Kim, you’ve just captured my exact feeling in those few words–the vibrant colors (I can smell the wisteria and see this watercolor land). Beautiful! This reminds me that we need to stay true to our integrity, remaining deeply rooted in what we are meant to be as we navigate all that life tosses our way.
Kim,
your ending lines make me so happy:
Thank you.
Kim –I want a garden like yours. I feel the peace and relaxation in your words. Slowing down and enjoying the moment is what we all need more of in this chaotic world.
Kim — I love the restful beauty in this scene. The dogs, of course, my heart is wide open. The watercolor of it all is soooo evident in the colors and scents evoked. Love it. Thank you. Susie
Kim, I visited a Tulip Garden in Kashmir a couple days ago and I picture you and your dogs there. Beyond the powerful imagery, I love this:
“deeply rooted
in the business
of being what
they were meant
to be”
This is so beautiful, Kim. If only we all knew what we were meant to be. The Poetry Fox …going to have to keep that guy in mind!
Kim, your poem is rich in color and action. I love your poem’s title and the brilliant end “deeply rooted/in the business/of being what/they were meant/to be”. Wow! Love it!
Kim,
Gorgeous poem full of so many things I love, especially dogs and tulips.
Hi Tammi
Thanks for the randomness this morning.
Kevin
Every sort of idea
ignites the page,
astonishes the writer ,
as much as reader;
A poet is compelled
to uncover a poem
framed as something
new, something true,
But while we crave original,
we listen for the echoes
ignite
astonish
compel
frame
crave
Kevin, I think we were thinking to the same tune this morning – – in that last stanza, craving original but listening for the echoes – – I like the familiar and the new in poems, too. Love use of your words in this weaving of poetic thought.
Kevin, these lines spoke to me today (as I’m seeking truths): a poet is compelled/to uncover a poem… and but while we crave original/we listen for the echoes.
Kevin,
I love your description of the joy and compulsion of writing poetry. The balance of expressing something new while
Beautiful.
Kevin,
I really love how you capture both the art and craft of writing poetry. These lines — ‘framed as something/new, something true’ — beautifully reflect the essence of the poet’s process.”
I love the idea that poem is already there and that the poet’s job is to uncover it. It reminds me of Ruth Stone describing how she could hear a poem coming through the fields and that she would run to the house to grab her pen to capture it before it got away. This is beautiful work.
Yes, we “listen for the echos,” indeed.