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Our Host
Rita DiCarne lives outside of Philadelphia, PA, where she teaches 7th-grade ELA at Our Lady of Mercy Regional Catholic School. After 40 years of Catholic Education, she will be retiring in June. Rita has been a fellow and teacher consultant with the West Chester Writing Project for the past 25 years. When not teaching, she loves meeting monthly with a community poetry writing group at her local library, gathering with her book club friends, The Chapter Chicks, and blogging at Practicing What I Teach. Rita’s favorite thing is spending time with her four grandchildren, who bring sunshine to her life.
Inspiration
After the unexpected death of my husband, Chuck, in September, I was desperately searching for glimmers of hope. We had been married 45 years and together for 52 (high school sweethearts), and I could not imagine a world without him.
My search led me to poet Andrea Gibson’s Substack, Things That Don’t Suck, and to her poem “A List of Things I Love.” Reading Gibson’s poem helped me find those glimmers of hope and love by opening my eyes to everyday things I had been overlooking. Here is Andrea Gibson reading a few lines from her poem. Andrea Gibson
Process
Today’s invitation is a chance to notice what is on your mind or on your heart. Take a minute to think about the things you love, or hate, or wish for, or scare you. Your list can be about whatever is tugging at you today. I modeled my poem after Gibson’s list, but feel free to use any form of poetry that speaks to you.
Rita’s Poem
Things I Love
I love how good it feels to take off my shoes when I get home after school and feel the plush carpet beneath my feet. I love how animated middle school boys get when they play board games. I love sitting in the warmth of the sun shining through the window.
I love a sharpened #2 pencil. I love writing and receiving handwritten letters, whether on fancy stationery or a page torn from a notebook. I love beautiful postage stamps.
I love the diverse music of the 70’s that whisks me back to my high school days when I met my forever love. I love acoustic guitar covers of songs. I love seeing bits and pieces of Chuck in my children’s words and actions.
I love that in the midst of heartbreak and a world gone wild, there is still joy to be found.
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.
Rita, thank you for hosting us today with this powerhouse of a prompt. I so love a list poem, in prose fashion too. Thank you for leading us to Andrea this morning – what a beautiful soul they were, gone far too soon. I thought of Tom T. Hall’s song I Love, and it brought a smile to my face. As did your poem! Thank you for inspiring us today. I, too, am thinking of the days of retirement ahead and would love a travel writers’ club someday. Reading travel books, writing travel articles and poems, and seeing new places.
The Nest
I like going places~
camping, girls’ trips, weekend getaways
but I love coming home
I love bone-tired sleep, the kind where
you don’t move all night and have sheet imprints
on your face from the weight of
not carrying anything with you to bed
putting it all down at the foot
climbing in, clocking out, cloud-drifting off
I love waking up to dog noses
in my face saying Let’s Go Outside!
I love Skechers Slip-Ins for when the grass
is too tall and wet with dew for the regular slippers
I love opening the front door for the sun
to barge in, full of life and light and laughter
I love checking bird nests, finding
a clutch of four brown-headed nuthatches
snuggled under mama bird on a
bright, cool Sunday morning
like a prayerful blessing of their own
a nest where they will learn
to fledge, fly, and face a lifetime
of setting out and coming home
to their feathered nests
the places they’ll grow to love best
Rita, I am so very sorry for your unexpected loss. We can see that he is still here with you – in your children’s words and actions, in the joy he would want you to continue to find. Thank you for your openness and invitation to write about loves.
in april
the buds
are barely there
but still,
they march forth,
tiny soldiers
emerging,
taking back territory
in a fight against
winter’s
death
in april
rains saturate
the soil,
life-giving
re-birthing
land-nourishing
drops gently
nurturing life
Into existence
in april
seeds become
whatever they may
hardened shells
softening
surviving
each a gift
awakening
after so much sleep
this is what i love
Rita — Thank you so much for your prompt. I have been absent the past few days as I’ve been preparing to sell my parent’s home. Your prompt was just the inspiration I needed to get me back in the poetry writing groove. I am so sorry for your loss. I hope you continue to find solace in writing.
Some of My Favorite Things
I love tangy custard lemon bars paired with the bitter jolt of coffee.
I love a brisk walk to the lake at dawn.
I love when the daffodils awaken.
I love watching the morning hustle of students walking and biking to school.
I love backpacks and waterbottles.
I love how sunlight catches the glass elephants,
lined in a neat herd on my mantel—my mother’s keepsakes.
I love looking at black and white photos of my parents, especially ones when they kiss.
I love a basement busy with crafting college students, the scents of glue and paint.
I love that my children enjoy 80’s music and that they sing along with me.
I love a dinner with my family, conversations about travel and dreams.
I love saying goodbye to winter and hello to spring.
Reading this was a great way to start my day. You’ve covered so much ground and shared so much of your life in so few words. I love that you chose to write “daffodils awaken” rather than sprout or bloom. It was unexpected, but perfect. Thanks for sharing.
Your list brings smile after smile.
Tammi, so glad you are back with us. I’ve missed seeing you here. I love that you’ve taken the everyday and uplifted it into moments that celebrate life – the hustle of students, the sunlight on the glass elephants, the scents of crafting. Mostly it’s the family togetherness that drew me, the moments where they hold such importance in your life.
The Flip Side
I love the smell of a clean house … but struggle with scrubbing the shower.
I love singing in Oratorio … but struggle with rehearsals ’til 10 pm.
I love dancing and reading with grandchildren … but dislike getting viruses from them.
I love the Iowa vistas … but hate Iowa wind.
I love the care of my worship community … but hate religion used to justify war.
I love the creativity of my students … but hate the voice-robbing of AI.
I love road trips through the West … but hate open carry in Texas.
I love the connectivity through my phone … but hate my addiction to it.
I love and I hate. … Oh, to love more.
Kim —
I love your juxtapositions and how you balance the everyday frustrations “ but struggle with scrubbing the shower” with the thought provoking, “I love the care of my worship community … but hate religion used to justify war”
This is a very cool way to think about things we love and their flip sides. I love how the last line leaves us with what’s almost an imperative “to love more.”
Oh, to love more… me, too. I share many on your list of loves (and hates). The clean house, not the housework; kids, not their viruses; connectivity of my phone, not the scrolling habit; and so high on the list, my faith and worship, but not having it used to justify war or other wrongs.
Kim, each of these pairings brings deeper meaning to what you love. The things you love could be (should be) the stuff of life, until we are reminded of why they aren’t. Great title, great concept, great way to get us thinking further.
Thanks for the reminder to look for the things we love. To keep finding the joy whatever path life takes us on.
Some Things I Love
I love to hear birds singing in the morning. I love old hymns and music on the radio when I’m driving.
I love my favorite coffee mug that feels just right to hold. I love the aroma of coffee with a hint of cinnamon and smooth Italian sweet cream.
I love books, all kinds. I love reading on my kindle. I love having books from the library and books of my own.
I love writing. Letters, stories, slice of life. And poems.
I love friends and family and time spent together. Just sharing life. Making memories.
Diane,
I can smell that coffee! Sounds delicious!
Love your last line:
“I love friends and family and time spent together. Just sharing life. Making memories.” These things are so important in life!
Diane, I love your opening line. I’m lying in bed listening to what truly makes spring for me – the birds singing. They began about two hours ago, announcing morning, their gentle wake up and get moving a reminder to lie in bed a bit longer and breathe in the laziness of a Sunday morning. They’re my slice of life. Spring break ends today – they’ll be hurrying me along tomorrow.
Rita, thanks so much for this invitation. It was just the flexibility I needed on this calm morning.
Calm
you can find it in the early weekend morning
just before the sun rises
the house (and my mind) is calm
an unexpected gift of time
it also lives in the parallel lines of newly
vacuumed carpet
and in a classroom moments before
students enter
it’s the best-laid plans before they
go awry
and the bow in hand, a private practice moment–a piece that
you love
there are memories of your grandmother’s voice
tinny soprano—praise and love
a genuine hug
rolling on 4 wheels (or 2) living in
the moment
doing anything in the moment without
thought for what comes next
Calm is a stanza of poetry in the middle of
a burning world
a cellist in the midst of war
a cool breeze on a sunny day
calm is found within the storm, not
outside it
David,
Your home poem is just beautiful.I love the specificity of “ parallel lines of newly
vacuumed carpet” and especially loved this stanza —
“Calm is a stanza of poetry in the middle of
a burning world
a cellist in the midst of war”
I love all these ways to find calm. Unexpected gifts of time, memories of a loved ones’ voice, a cool breeze… so sweet to think of this at the beginning of my Sunday…
What a beautiful poem…it brings me calm and peace just reading it. I love that you’ve mixed sentimental things, like your grandmother’s voice with ordinary ones, like the newly vacuumed carpet.
Thank you for the cool prompt- may your day be filled with joy!!
I love to be in darkness,
in a dew soaked field,
Listening to owls,
and smelling daffodils.
Ten minutes,
before day breaks,
Western breeze –
off a silver lake.
Waiting on,
an Eastern Tom,
to explode,
with a daylight alarm,
for my soul.
But……
There has been,
a time or two,
I’ve heard the howl,
of the untrue.
Yes….
Way back,
past the tangle of briars,
I heard,
The Froon’s desperate cry!
Oh….
How the hair,
spiked on my neck,
Fear, Freeze,Fight,
I was a mental wreck.
Yet…
I loved,
that I was there,
Trapped by his howl,
in grayness I stared.
His call,
was a croaking howl,
a loud whisper,
that traveled miles.
one of,
unaware,
one of a peace,
a double dare,
a spine tingling release.
Shaking…
I visualized,
the Froon,
a frogman,
crossed with a Loon.
That hid,
in the Georgia woods,
no one ever saw him,
and no one ever could!
Elusive as the buck,
sly as a coyote,
and for a few seconds,
The crowls, controlled me.
Green,
with yellow eyes,
charcoaled wings,
with a red underside.
Long,
forked tongue,
with webbed hands,
sharp canines,
tall as an oak,
he could stand.
Caked,
in muck,
and honeysuckle,
six foot wing span,
with bear knuckles.
Crowls,
only twice a year,
a cry,
to enforce fear.
Why….
was I chosen,
twice,
to hear the Froon,
maybe my time,
was coming soon?
Do….
Hunters,
endure the fright,
they force on their game,
with might?
How…
I would love to,
figure this,
out,
maybe when,
I hunt this
morning,
I will crowl,
with a shout?
Whatever….
is the case,
I will never
forget the
Froon’s grace.
for leaving me alone,
In my place,
Only,
allowing my heart to race.
And..
I loved the experience,
with all of its glory,
But…
Most of all,
I love to tell stories.
-Boxer
I was living in the calm of your early morning adventures and then the Froon. What a great juxtaposition and an honesty about humans in the woods. “Most of all, / I love to tell stories.” That line is the perfect ending. Thanks for sharing.
Keep telling the stories!
Clayton — I love the way your narrative poem unfolds and the way it moves from grounded in reality to fantastical was so fun. Last stanza is a perfect ending to this tale!
Rita
I am sorry to hear about your husband. I hope poetry has given you solace. Instead of a list, I wrote a light-hearted poem about keeping lists. Thank you for the prompt.
Kevin
I do love me a list
of all the many things I need
to get done,
and the satisfaction
of my pencil scratching,
’cause it’s one
less thing to worry about
for the day; and now I’m on
to something fun
You captured how we can make through the day by writing. In a few stanzas you embraced how we as writers can take on the world. “ less to worry about” – because we let go with our poems. Very captivating!!
thank you
The simple pleasures of checking something off a list. You’ve captured it so succinctly and can now move on to something else fun. Thanks for sharing.
The satisfaction of the pencil scratching… great detail.
Kevin,
I love the simple truth in your poem. Creating a list can truly be freeing and therapeutic!
Loved the verse–“There has been a time or two. …” and all the verbal sounds of this poem. It begs to be read aloud. Thank you!
I love this too! What a fun poem…love the unexpectedness of your line breaks.