Welcome to Day 2 of the February Open Write. If you have written with us before, welcome back. If you are joining us for the first time, you are in the kind, capable hands of today’s host, so just read the prompt below and then, when you are ready, write in the comment section below. We do ask that if you write, in the spirit of reciprocity, you respond to three or more writers. To learn more about the Open Write, click here.
Our Host
Britt lives in Houston, Texas where she writes, reads, laughs, and learns alongside brilliant 10th graders. She began participating in writing communities in 2020 and has discovered the powerhouse poets of the monthly Open Writes. When Britt isn’t in the classroom or writing in her notebook, you can find her drinking black coffee and discussing educational inequities with her husband while simultaneously wrangling her two toddlers.
Inspiration
There is a CS Lewis quote I’ve always loved: “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’”
Have you ever been in conversation with someone, slip up, and share a quirk or obsession you have? I used to try to gloss over the truth that my husband cooks way more often than I do. But when I mentioned it to an acquaintance a few months ago, she said, “Girl, mine too!” This made me feel less ashamed or embarrassed of how our family operates.
Process
Make a list of quirky, unusual, uncommon things you do, believe, or say and turn the list into a poem.
Begin your poem with “I can’t be the only one who….”
Britt’s Poem
“Me, too!”
I can’t be the only one who –
takes three days to work through a bag of sour gummy worms
refuses to watch Game of Thrones
is anti iPhone
decided to pierce their ears at 30
is obsessed with NYT Tiny Love Stories
regrets not playing sports as a kid
isn’t the primary household cook (as a Latina woman)
needs a recipe every.single.time
would rather go to school sick than take three hours setting up sub work
feels guilty for calling out
buys a new notebook when there are 99 empty ones at home
consoles toddler tears while sitting on the toilet
enjoys some PBS shows more than her kids
discovered poetry way too late!
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Britt, this was such a fun writing process. I miss seeing you in TTW. But, it is so good to connect with you in this space.
I Can’t Be the Only One Who…
*sleeps in her workout clothes.
*is reminded of a song to matches a particular situation.
*can change the lyrics to said song to match the situation.
*is a package eater. (Once it’s open, I eat the whole package.)*
*wakes up at 4am to workout at 5am three days a week.
*is obsessed with Camp Gladiator.
*dances and sings (not good at a either) in the school hallways (just because I get a feeling inside my bones (see song just popped in my head as I typed this line).
*buys multiple sets of pens she likes (for home, school, and backpack).
*plans to never leave the classroom. – It’s my happy place.
*discovered she loves to write poetry, even when it’s BAD.
*used to not read for pleasure once the school year started. (Notice the “used to”.)
*realizes her Passion Planner is THE everything she ever needed for organizing all aspects of her life.
*tend to spend too much money on frivolous things; so, she put herself on restriction by implementing “no-spend months”.
*loves her “POO-POO-cachew” (My Standard Poodle, I mean the family Standard Poodle) more than the humans.
*believes every kid in the school is her kid whether she taught them or not.
*can go days, weeks, even, without turning on the television.’
*is completely brainwashed by the Activity Rings on the Apple Watch.
*will walk inside the house (for miles) for close the Activity Rings on the Apple Watch.
If it turns out that I am the only one, don’t tell me. Let me think I’m completely normal.
Donnetta Norrs 2-20-2023
I love the last two lines Donetta! Also, I too am a package eater!!!
Donnetta,
I am in love with your “POO-POO-cachew” too! I believe it makes perfect sense to buy multiple sets of pens and t believe every kid in the school is ours!! I love all of this!
As a newspaper guy and a writer, I get the power of deadlines. But t I am also amazed at the writers who can produce brilliance well ahead of when I even w I
I’m beating the deadline
I can’t be the only one…
Thoughts gathered like
leaves blown across
the lawn—
Hold up, the rake is in here,
somewhere…
And who are these 7 am poets?
Clairvoyant content creatorsposting profound parables
practically parallel to the prompt—
Please! Gimme a minute to breathe
and collect my…
Thoughts attempt to connect to theme—
I can’t be the only one
struggling against the clock,
blocked, chipping away,
something profound to say
before the end of the day.
My desk is littered with the articles,
student papers, hall passes,
detritus of a half planned day, and
I conjure miracles from the debris
of histories unspoken and truths too
universal to be left unsaid.
Well, as an early-riser and poem prompt responder, I am always amazed at folks who can burn that midnight oil! Once upon a time, that was me too! : ) I love the rake image, which returned when I hit that final stanza, thinking the ‘mess’ of the desk needs to be raked up. I also admire that dropped line in stanza two that picks up with “Thoughts” in the third. See, that’s brilliance that makes me envious! Nicely done, Dave. Have you tried the Poetry Marathon? A poem an hour for either 12 or 24 hours. That one will kick anyone’s deadline butt!
I think I’m out on the poem marathon. That’s hurting my head just to think about!!! I really look forward to seeing those first poems in the morning during these open writes but I always scratch my head thinking “how do they do that???”
Oh, wow, Dave. You have conjure a midnight miracle here. So beautiful! Especially that last stanza. Amazing. Yes, I am amazed at those early risers who consistently output as you so amazing described as:
Another thing I can relate to (but not since I retired) is this gem:
I love this poem.
Britt, your poem was awesome! I found myself saying “I do that too!” more than once. I loved that yours and the rhyme at the beginning kind of inspired mine. After looking at my brainstorming list of things to put in my poem, I realized that I am pretty bad at a lot of the things I enjoy to do. It reminded me of this quote from Kurt Vonnegut: “I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.”
I can’t be the only one who…
goes bird-watching but seldom knows their names,
lifts weights without need to see “major gains”,
runs several miles weekly though never timed,
writes poetry but misses a few rhymes.
A half hour recipe usually takes me more than an hour.
I cut, dry, arrange, plant (and kill) pretty flowers.
I listen to audiobooks speedy quick,
and next I think I’ll try the pogo stick.
I *try* not to let the fear of a mistake
keep me from enjoying something for my own sake!
Rachelle, I too, take too long with recipes as well and I also kill flowers. Never had a green thumb so I wish I would’ve told my mother no when she gave me my late grandmother’s Elephant Ear.
I love the way you use rhyme to propel this poem forward. So much good stuff in this poem!
Rachelle, I also “listen to audiobooks speedy quick.” 1.5X for the win! And I love the Vonnegut quote. Thanks for sharing this!
OMGosh! I’m putting that Vonnegut quote above my “art” space! I keep telling people – like my students – it’s about the process! Ditto the recipe time – when I read them online, I just figure, yeah, double that! And the weightlifting – for SURE! (But it’s about the process, right?!) Thank you so much for the smiles here, Rachelle.
Rachelle, brava that you added rhymes to your poem today! It made me smile. I can relate to the half hour recipe taking double time and watching birds without knowing their names. Nice list. (Are you really going to try a pogo stick? Maybe the topic for a future poem.)
Rachelle,
This is awesome! I can relate to the bird watching obliviousness (on walks and in my yard!) and the cooking time issue with complete honesty. You are FAR better at rhyming than I am–as demonstrated in this poem. It really ties it together and makes it flow so well.:)
I love this idea Britt! I’m sharing this prompt with my students. I wish I could’ve found more quirky things, but I guess that means I’m more normal than I realize. I agree with you on the sub plans. Thankfully I’m rarely sick. And I do need a recipe every single time, even when I know what I’m cooking. Looks like we have much in common. Here’s mine:
I can’t be the only one who….
organizes Cheetos and Wendy’s French fries according to size and width.
arranges bath towels from least fresh to freshest.
prefer sheets tucked under the mattress.
pumps gas and stops on a zero dollar amount.
talks to their children like they are mini-adults.
sets the vehicle clock 13 minutes fast.
gets cocky while parallel parking (especially if there’s an audience).
collects gift bags to reuse next time.
keeps accomplishments to myself.
Jessica, after reading your introduction, I laughed aloud when I read about organizing Cheerios and French fries by size and width. That and some others on your list seem a bit quirky. They make me smile, like the 13 minutes and pumping gas to the dollar. I have to say though, me too and the getting cocky about a good parallel parking job. 🙂 Nicely done!
Thank you Denise. I hate to say it, but my husbands is rubbing off on me. Eek!
Jessica, thank you for sharing your quirks. I found myself saying “I do that too!” with the line “sets the vehicle clock 13 minutes fast”. Mine isn’t exactly 13 minutes fast, but I do set it fast! You definitely deserve to “get cocky” when you parallel park–haha! I’m the one who will walk 3 blocks further if it means I don’t have to parallel park hehe
Ha Rachelle, I need the exercise, but also the practice in parallel parking. I choose the latter.
Wow! I think we are kindred spirits, as I check off—line by line—things that I also do to try and organize my crazy life!
I’m glad I’m not alone Dave. I wish I could organize my crazy life more with more logical thinking of things!
You are definitely not alone! I make a scene about my amazing parallel parking to anybody who is watching and listening. I’m a bit too proud sometimes.
Ha Amber, it is actually an amazing feat! Especially doing it in as few motions as possible!
Thank you, Britt, this was fun! I’d like to think about it some more. I like your list poem today. Me too on “buys a new notebook when there are 99 empty ones at home”
I’m sure I’m not the only one who
Denise, it’s so lovely to read your poetry again! I loved the line “does a double take when seeing a sunset” because it reminds me of myself. It usually takes me a second to realize the beautiful setting right there. The other one I found myself relating to was “can be interrupted and switch gears automatically”. Perhaps this comes with the territory of being a teacher :). Thanks for sharing!
Denise, I think some people talk too much as well. My Daddy taught me silence is golden. And, show me how to listen to one thing while reading another! I am terrible at multitasking, but it seems that way is the only thing I can accomplish many things on my daily list of endless lists!
Denise, I don’t think I do an of these things, but I love the specificity in your list-poem. And actually, I do think some people talk too much and I may be living as a young person in an old body and I may just refuse to admit it!
No, you are not the only one, Denise! I can relate to all of them, except for coffee. I need my dose of black coffee every morning. Love the final line: it is especially important for us.
This is such a great prompt, especially as I am a middle school teacher because I feel like middle schoolers are constantly thinking they are alone! They are so worried about people talking about them or noticing something, when really they usually are not!
I tried to create a poem that illustrated those constant worries that I always felt as a kid (and still do) and to also show that someone else could be right by with those same worries.
An image is attached, but here are the words too.
Not alone.
Why do I have weird elbows?
Why can’t I be like everyone else?
Are they looking at me?
Why are they laughing?
I hate being alone.
My least favorite part of me…
and they all noticed right away.
FREAK of nature.
Is anyone like me?
Why me?
Alexis, worrying over something someone isn’t likely to notice – me too! Your imagery is perfectly done – the spiraling thoughts circling over head, the companion worrier nearby, as is the caps on freak (what would stand). This captures middle graders so well!
Alexis… “Me, too.”
Love the image. Worried faces and circular words to illustrate my overthinking – goodness, thank you for offering this today.
Alexis, good take on this prompt. All the questions the two in your poem ask are a constant debilitating exercise for so many, especially young ones. I wish people could be freed from the worries; I wonder how things would change for them.
Alexis, that’s the $1,000,000 question we all have! Thank you for sharing! I’m glad you make your middle schoolers feel like they belong because in reality, we’re all considered “out there” by someone else. I am reminded of the poem “No Difference” by Shel Silverstein…what happens when we just turn off the light? https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-difference-4/
Britt, It’s so good to see you here. I’ve missed you here and in TWTs on Tuesdays. This is a perfect prompt for me because of something that happened during our lunch stop Sunday.
Proofreader
Tell someone you’re an
English teacher or a
retired English teacher
they’ll immediately think
you’ll critique their every
utterance & judge their
grammar. I can’t be the
only one who assures
new acquaintances
I’ll not correct their usage
only to confess later I
proofread graphic tees &
told the sales associate I
don’t understand
PEACH, LOVE, BEACH.
I type out MIND on my
phone when I see MIDE on
another cute graphic tee. I
show the associate whose
English comprehension
exceeds my nonexistent
Thai knowledge & say
to myself, “lots of grammar
errors on those shirts.”
—Glenda Funk
20 February 2023
Glenda, I’m in awe that you are in Thailand and writing poetry here – so fun! I love “Peach, Love, Beach” so much!! My husband is crazy about peaches…he might go for that. So funny!
Glenda, I feel your hesitation in anyone knowing I might be silently correcting their grammar or getting ready to whip out a red pen and mark up the conversation. Things change when we are in a land of many languages and don’t have all our normal tools. I am nodding at not understanding so many of the modern sayings and memes, even at home. Safe travels, my friend, and cheers for the journey!
Glenda—the road signs drive me crazy. “Pleasent Valley Road” took two years to replace it. And I complained about it in my head Every. Single. Time. I saw it!
My husband always teased me for being an English teacher because my grammar is horrible!
Glenda, Oh, how I love your poem! You’ve captured that awkward feeling people give you when you reveal your English background. I love how you were able to connect this experience with your travels. I’ve never noticed graphic t errors but lots of newspaper ones. I can’t wait to read more about your travels!
Miss you, miss you right back, Glenda!!
What a relatable poem! This happens so often to me. When I say I’m an English teacher, people start, “oh, ah, um… Well if I say something wrong, then.. well…” They just start bumbling. English teacher or not, though, my mami corrects everyone everywhere (in the kindest way), so… I don’t tell them I’m silently judging their grammar, but I most likely am 😜
Funny, Glenda. In Bahrain, I used to take photos of tee-shirts with funny English usage. I often thought to myself that I would have provided free editing if only someone asked!
Britt, I enjoyed your poem and the others here too. It allows us to write about the side of ourselves others may not get to know. I think I will try it with my students.
I Can’t Be the Only One Who
Dives in headfirst,
Reads The New Yorker back to front,
Speeds home to slow down,
Eats the crust first,
Likes the winter sun best and
Misses the bare limbs when leaves come,
Can’t sit still to save my life,
Cuts open lotion bottles to get that last little bit,
Has a bucket list that might get me arrested
But gets nobody hurt, of course,
Loves companionable silence and
The sireny sounds of the city,
Gets a contact high upon entering a bookstore
But can’t make it through Watership Down without falling asleep
Night after night after night,
Has to see a word to know it,
Mastered the use of commas in my 50s,
Cringes at the phrase, “That being said…”
Love Seamus Heaney,
His poetry, at least,
And ardently hopes
You will like what I write.
Katrina,
Wow! You named so many things that are so relatable for me, too! The “dives in headfirst,” “Speeds home to slow down,” and “Cuts open lotion bottles…” and more make you a soul sister of mine for sure. For me, it is The Sun that I read cover to cover–a great publication for writers and teachers.
I ardently do love it! You had me at “Has a bucket list that might get me arrested
But gets nobody hurt, of course,” ❤️
Katrina,
I love this and can related to so many of your things.
I definitely like what you write.
Katrina, I do really like what you’ve written! I feel the same thing “upon entering a bookstore.” And who doesn’t love a good Seamus Heaney poem?
Katrina, thank you for offering this incredibly, and at times hilarious, relatable poem!! Dying to know what’s on that bucket list 😉
I eat the crust first, too!!!!
Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you, Britt! I love the inspiration and your poem for today. I am right with you there when you note that you “would rather go to school sick than take three hours setting up sub work.”
I’ve read today’s prompt early this morning and when I got to my computer, the first email I opened was from https://www.wordgenius.com/words with the word “pangloss” for today. I decided to play with those “genius” words and turn it into the vocabulary exercise 🙂
What about You?
I can’t be the only one who is—
Pangloss,
Optimistic about everything regardless of circumstances—
At least, I learned something, I’d say.
Persnickety,
Overly concerned with minor details
When it is about my work, children, or cooking.
Lugubrious,
Sorrowful and heartbroken,
When people hurt.
Adiaphorous,
Neither harmful nor beneficial
In questions of business or money making.
Oppugn,
Calling into question the truth or validity of
Teacher’s use of rules or an accepted axiom.
Ultroneous,
Spontaneous, or voluntary,
Ready to jump in a car and drive to see friends in a spur of the moment.
Implacable,
Relentless and unyielding, stubborn and unstoppable,
Until I reach a finish line.
Eremetic,
Solitary, reclusive,
Stealing early mornings for myself.
Logophile,
A lover of words,
Who plays with them for work and pleasure.
Leilya,
I love all the delicious words! When you started with Pangloss, my brain went right to Candide–which is perhaps why the character was named as he was. I also love Oppugn, Implacable, Eremitic, and Logophile–I just think it’s so cool how you defined yourself with underused delectable words. So many wonderful words that define who you are and I relate so fully!
I am trying to work out just how to weave adiaphorus into normal conversation!! (check our Word Hippo). Loved this!,
What a vocab lesson!
The formatting really helps set this up effectively.
Leilya, what a fun exercise; I love what you’ve done with today’s prompt. This looks like something I want to try in class with students! Thank you 😊
Britt–I loved your poem SO much, but I had to only read it once because so many lines could have been written by me! Thank you for the fun prompt!
I can’t be the only one who…
relishes the few moments of rare solitude in my classroom,
abhors missing school days because making sub plans sucks
and my students freak that something happened to me
compulsively cleans my house when I have a pile of papers to grade
is a not so secret connoisseur of dark chocolate
could live on sourdough bread and pasta
finds nosy people to be the absolute worst
can’t stop reading once I start a new book (sleep be damned!)
finds solace in long, fast walks with my dog
nearly always has a song stuck in my head that I only know one line to
uses cooking as a meditation
can’t seem to go to bed at a reasonable hour to save my soul
wishes she were a morning person, but just can’t hack it
really truly, with every fiber, wishes she weren’t so good at procrastination
Cara, I envision chatting with you over coffee about all our “me too!” quirks 🙂
I laughed so loudly at “nearly always has a song stuck in my head that I only know one line to!” 🤣 Amen to that! Thank you for sharing your poem with us today!
Cara, Britt beat me to my favorite line!!
Hi, Cara! No, you are not alone, especially in seeking some solitude, cleaning the house instead of grading, and wishing not to be so good at procrastination. This poem mirrors teacher’s life so vividly.
I can relate to so much of what you say, especially
Cara, yep, I completely agree that “making sub plans suck,” and I also “can’t seem to go to bed at a reasonable hour to save my soul.” I’m with you on those! (And I’m also pretty good at procrastinating, too. Much to my dismay. Lol.) Thank you for writing and sharing this!
Although we’ve shared many poems, conversations, and time together, I never knew you as someone who “can’t seem to go to bed at a reasonable hour”. I may not be able to say “me, too!” to that, but there were several other lines that I could relate to (cough grading procrastination cough). Thanks for sharing your poem today; I always enjoy reading your writing!
Britt, your prompt made me a little weepy because believe it or not, I’m shy. Because my faith is so important to me, and I believe I should share, but often I’ve been shunned because of that. But, this OPEN WRITE group has eased some of that hesitancy and today, on what for me is the Sabbath, I can say “Thanks” and write a poem. Thanks, to all who have said “Me, too!” in the poems you write and in the comments you post when I do.
Really? Truly?
I would never have known
How many educators have grown
Raised in the shadow of the church.
So often when you write,
You mention your insight,
Because you believe God’s word.
If I hadn’t seen it here,
I wouldn’t have believed it was true.
Because you’ve said, “Me, too!
I’m more at ease writing about caring.
I’ve become more confident in sharing.
Just because of you.
Anna—truth!
Thank you for your poem, Anna! I am so grateful to this community of poets because as you say:
“I’m more at ease writing about caring.
I’ve become more confident in sharing.
Just because of you.”
Anna, I am so thankful for you, for your {digital} presence and impact on me, and for your writing. It is no accident that our God has set us up to cross paths, and I am in awe of His light that shines so brightly through all of your words. 🤎
Awww… So many difficulties we face in our profession, having to hold back whatever is deemed unacceptable by the latest political brewha. I think the greatest lesson a teacher can help guide students to understand is to be true to themselves. Hard to do when we feel we have to hide parts of our own. Thank you for sharing, Anna.
Thank you, Britt, for this light-hearted prompt, just perfect for a Sunday afternoon. I get a kick out of those NYT love stories, too!
I can’t be the only one who
calls their smartphone their camera
breaks into song in the middle of basic tasks
knows that dark chocolate cures all
walks outside barefoot even in winter to get the morning paper
oh, that’s a quirk, too – who still has a newspaper delivered
I can’t be the only one who
invariably returns from a walk with a new treasure,
some small stone or feather or seedpod
rereads Anna Karenina every five years or so,
finding new meaning every time
doesn’t know the current Burger King earworm
because they’re still repeating the one from the 1970s,
hold the pickle hold the lettuce special orders don’t upset us
I can’t be the only one who
believes there is no better place
in the world
than sitting in a chair at the window, watching the wind rustle
but then
they wash rocks and pop soapy bubbles at the sink
with their grandchild
or
listen to Celeste sing Hear My Voice while
smelling the coriander onions garlic slow cooking
as they chop peppers for the black bean soup
or
discover a new bud of the lenten rose
has burst into yellow and burgundy marvel
in the front yard (this might have been seen
on that earlier jaunt to get the newspaper)
or
take a long walk with their dearest
riffing memories laughing together
about what happened when they first met
or
wander into writing a poem
meander a bit
lose the thread of the prompt
and realize
they were wrong
there is no better place than
right now
Maureen, as I read your poem I kept thinking, “What a wonderful life she has!” I love how your last lines bring everything together. Really nice!
I agree with Mo! What fun you’d be to live life alongside… Thank you for sharing a peek with us ☺️
I also call my smartphone my camera!
lovely poem, Maureen! I loved the humor and emotional impact if the last section ❤️
What a beautiful poem, Maureen! I loved it all, but these lines spoke to me the most:
“I can’t be the only one who
believes there is no better place
in the world
than sitting in a chair at the window, watching the wind rustle
but then
they wash rocks and pop soapy bubbles at the sink
with their grandchild”
Maureen, I love the meandering variety of your poem but especially love all the nature images. You are so good at finding joy in life’s simple moments. That’s a lesson for us all.
Maureen!! Maureen!! I am so glad you wandered into this poem!! Can I come hang out with you!!??
Oh, Maureen, ditto what the others said about your sweet life. That middle section of all the “or” images is breathtakingly beautiful.
Amen to that!
Normal
By Mo Daley 2/19/23
Most people I meet think I’m pretty normal
I mean, I work, I go to church, I pay taxes, I have friends over
and most of the time I think I’m normal, too
but then I start to wonder…
Am I the only one who folds my clean underwear
and makes sure to wear them on a rotational basis?
Is anyone else reading all the fiction Pulitzer Prize winners?
Can anyone explain to me why I keep adopting old dogs?
Does anyone else hide behind a door, knowing her husband will shriek
when she leaps out to surprise him?
Surely, I can’t be alone in painting my nails in the car, can I?
Who else would rather watch the birds than TV?
Is there anyone else out there who gets up at 5:30 on Saturday mornings
just to sit with a pot of tea and a book?
I fear I know that answers to my questions
but I realize that I have surrounded myself with
those who love me and accept me as I am,
freshly rotated undies and all!
Mo, I love your spin on this! What an absolute delight it was to read your poem. I, too, fold clean underwear… and have a loose schedule for when to wear different ones 🤣
Mo, I love how you used different questions! ‘can anyone explain to me why I keep adopting old dogs’ is my favorite. The line is filled with humor but also so much heart!
Oh, I love this! I laughed at you hiding behind the door – I do this same shenanigan, hahaha. I adore this rotation of underwear…you’ve got me thinking…hmmm….
My undies are jealous of your undies. Rotation? Mine arelucky to make it into the drawer!!
Mo, I’d also rather watch birds than TV (as we watch the Daytona 500, but that’s only because it’s the first race of the season and we have to see who looks solid) – – and I’m an early riser, too, to write. Undies? I’m chuckling because the only time mine are folded is when I travel, when they’re all new….I can’t be the only one who buys all new, all black, for fear my bags will be searched in front of the entire airport and passed around for inspection?? Painting nails in the car takes some serious skills, my friend.
What a gift to
I love how you each line is a question. Lines 1 and 2…you are not alone. Here’s to NORMAL!!!
Britt this was a fun prompt and a reminder of one of the great aspects of community — it’s that’s we are not alone! Thank you for this invitation today.
I can’t be the only one who…
has no desire for children,
but loves to teach them.
has a desire to travel everywhere,
but no desire to move far from home.
has the latest Pokemon game,
but can’t justify buying curtains.
has plans months in advance,
but can’t decide where to eat on Fridays.
has nightmares of teeth falling out,
but dreams of (not-quite) flying.
has accepted that I can’t be the only one.
Erica, you are not alone! My son and I were just talking about the teeth-falling-out-dream! YOur Pokemon game line made me LOL. Well done!
Erica, miss you, friend!! I love your use of “but” here. I, too, desire to travel everywhere but refuse to move far away. And I CAN NEVER decide what to eat, LOL.
Wonderful contrasts! I laughed out loud at the Pokemon purchase – I am sure you are not alone.
Me, Too! on the nightmares of teeth falling out!
I like how you use antithesis so effectively in each stanza!
Great poem. Love the contrasts. Buying curtains is hard, BTW. You are not the only one.
Britt,
Thanks for the awesome prompt. I’m planning on revisiting this, taking a different approach than i did here, basically taking a chronological look at my day. A vocab word in class last week was idiosyncrasy so I think I may try this with the students, too. I’m really struggling to de-cloud my head today to think of my “Me, Too!” things.
I can’t be the only one who . . .
can’t go to bed with a messy kitchen
and almost always falls asleep instantly
with hopes of completing the rosary.
wakes up at 3:15 a.m. every night without fail
wondering how close to morning it is
and hoping I have hours to sleep before the alarm rings.
sets one alarm for 5:45 and another for 6:15
because that half an hour
makes all the difference.
turns my shower on, then goes to make a cup of coffee
so that my first moments of morning are filled
with inside and outside warmth.
brushes her teeth for over five minutes
because the nighttime fuzz and coffee coating
just won’t seem to go away.
picks out the day’s outfit then throws it in the dryer
to de-wrinkle and freshen up
another layer of warmth added on.
has at least three books going at once . . . a light-hearted rom-com,
a meaty biography or autobiography,
a faith-based selection, and something on audio
counts my steps and always looks for patterns
on the numbers on the side of train cars as they whiz or crawl by
yet who is a word girl NOT a numbers girl
actually would prefer to text than talk on the phone, but
my preference is face-to-face or actually side-by-side
in a car where the distractions are minimal.
doesn’t want to go but gets her feelings hurt
that she wasn’t asked.
walks through antique stores and flea markets and buys things
from my childhood that, heck,
might well have been mine to begin with.
can’t wait to take off my bra and my shoes
when I get home from work and who
doesn’t like to leave the house again until the next day.
has to have a lightweight blanket on me
when I sit on the couch . . .
no matter the temperature.
watches The Andy Griffith Show re-runs
in the time before making dinner
inspired by Aunt Bea.
puts names of restaurants in a cup
and pulls one out
to decide where to go when dining out.
never controls the remote when anyone else is home
but has fallen down the rabbit hole of all shows
British or royalty when home alone.
lives in the grey and can see pretty much
all sides of any topic and struggles
to understand closemindedness.
~Susan Ahlbrand
19 February 2023
Susan, I loved reading this and could relate to SO many of these! And I love your restaurant idea and am stealing it. 🙂
I definitely related to many of these Susan! I love all the warmth in this poem too.
Susan, I want to be your friend in real, real life!! I said “me too!!!” out loud to so many of these. Thank you, thank you for sharing!
You have some marvelous routines, I think! Brilliant to have the two alarms set…why did I never think of that… I smiled with knowing at,
I love the way that is the only two-line stanza in the poem – giving it more ‘weight,’ I think …the plight of the introvert, I suspect.
Susan, it’s all great – but I love best that you point out that you are NOT a numbers girl, despite the train patterns. Yes to the multiple alarms and the stripping of the bra, Amen Hallelujah for liberation! And I love Keeping Up Appearances if you watch that one, too.
Britt — Thank you for this fun prompt and your poetry. I always need a recipe too!
My middle school students are going through a very mean phase and the drama is horrible. I can’t wait to use this prompt as a friendship or at the very least community building strategy. Hopefully, they will see what they have in common.
I can’t be the only one who —
eats Nutella straight from the jar
sneaks cookie dough batter at the breakfast bar
keeps a night light on so to traverse safely through the halls
creates a playlist of my favorite musicals
cries when listening to certain songs and then plays them on and on
shedding tears for catharsis
I can’t be the only one who —
has forgotten how to read the dancing notes
watches on black and white keys settling dust motes
Sometimes I trail my fingers down a scale, and at the keys I stay
wishing I could still play
I can’t be the only mom who —
melts when sixteen year old daughter says,
“My friends say, ‘you’re the cool mom’ ”
when I’ve never been cool a day in my life.
Tammi,
Nutella and I have a dangerous relationship and I just cannot keep it in my house. I love how all of the lists today are connecting us. I also think I need a longer time to create my list;) Thank you for sharing today.
Tammi, loved this and can relate totally to your cookie batter sneaking. 🙂
Oh, Tammi, what a joy to read your poem. My boys are little now, but I hope I’m a “cool mom” one day!! 😉
Tammi—so many real me-tools here. Only mine is chocolate frosting straight from the can. Cake is just extra calories!
Hi,Britt! This prompt is so much fun! I spent an hour trying three different forms and decided on a nonet. I love that it takes you a while to finish a bag of gummy worms. I used to savor a bag of candy for weeks and my sister could devour one in a day. I am glad your husband cooks. It’s time for gender roles to be adjusted and not expected. Yay, you!
Nope, Not Me!
I do not choose to like Ben Afleck
Or eat bananas and oatmeal
Or wear wrinkled clothes to work
Or eat food in the car
Or enjoy camping
Or lasagne
Or Sci-Fi
Or birds
YUCK!
© Stacey L. Joy, 2/19/23
Stacey,
I think the nonet was a great choice for your poem. I love how each of the items you’ve chosen funnels into the “Yuck!” which sums up your feelings on the topics so matter of factly that I’d had to smile at the end. I’m not a huge fan of eating food in the car or camping either unless I’m camping in a cabin with electricity and plumbing, and then I guess it really isn’t camping.
Stacey, I sometimes wear a dress just so I’m not wearing wrinkled pants. Fist bump!! And I do NOT like Sci-Fi, either. Love this list and adore the title!!!
Oops…I wasn’t finished…..And so let’s hang out and eat at the food cafe (not in the car) and eat all the things we love and none of the things we don’t.
Stacey…no food in the car in LA traffic, how is that possible???:) You are strong!
Thank you for hosting yesterday, I read the prompt but find time to write.
Stacey, I love your take, the Nope to YUCK! And especially the “I do not choose to…” as it’s all really just a choice, except for camping. That, I can’t hope to understand.
Stacey, it’s a joy to host alongside you!! Beautiful nonet.
I also hate scifi!!
It’s wonderful to host with you, Britt! Thank you for this fun prompt! “See” you soon!
Stacey, I love the honesty and humor of your poem. I especially like the way all of the dislikes filter down to the work YUCK.
Stacey,
Excellent choice of form. Love the way you turn likes and dislikes into fate, as though we as individuals have no say in these things. However, not all birds are created equal, my friend. Ben who? [wink]
Great nonet. I feel you with the Sci-Fi. But the lasagna?…not the lasagna.
My attempt at using emojis wouldn’t paste over, I am attempting to add it as an image below. Thank you for this fun prompt and for encouraging vulnerability in this unique way.
Stefani,
Nice to see you here! I love the emoji approach. That’s always fun to do with students. Thanks for reminding me to give it a go.
I love:
And I hope you know you deserve it without guilt. 💛
Love the emojis! The love/hate list. I think this is another great option to use with students.
Stefani, I love the love and laughter emojis that frame each line. Mostly, I love checking things off the lists…..spreadsheets, not so much (my old eyes), but I’m thankful for all their counting and sorting and functions. I’m with you in the box mixes – – no-scratch baking preferred. Love what you did with your form here.
Stefani, I love what you’ve done with the prompt (love/hate & emojis), and I’m so eager to try this myself. Thank you for sharing with us!!
I
use
a lot
of Post-It
Notes, like
a lot a lot,
like it’s my
job to use
them, like
some would
say too many
(and by some
I mean my wife;
Heather has an
organizational
style that involves
folders and files
while mine involves
heaps and piles,
unruly stacks of
papers and books
and various detritus
collected in the course
of an honest day’s work
or week’s or month’s, hey
what is that quote by Einstein,
“If a cluttered desk is a sign of a
cluttered mind, of what, then, is an
empty desk a sign?” the quote I printed
out and placed on my desk (and I could
show it to you, it’ll just take a minute, it’s
under this stack or that, give me just a second
and I’ll find it) look, what I’m saying is that at one
time I even used black Post-its with metallic Sharpies,
because, you know, cool, and I’ve also been known to use
transparent sticky notes so I can “write” in books that I borrow,
look all I’m saying is that – and this is not a lowkey flex – I’m just
saying that my Post-it Note Game is strong (#winning) and some folks
just do not appreciate it at all, I mean, like, not at all, you know what I mean?
________________________________
Thanks Britt, this was fun! I really enjoy the idea of making connections through our
various idiosyncrasies, and I can absolutely see this prompt working well in the classroom!
Oh, Scott, how I love Post-its (all colors, shapes, etc.) Years ago, there was a computer program that allowed me to make my own Post-it notes. I wasted HOURS creating stickies that I thought were AMAZING. Just silly but it was fun. I love the way your poem’s lines grew in length. I felt like I was listening to you explain while searching in your mind’s “piles” and the stacks in front of you. Sheer brilliance and I feel affirmed and might add some new Post-its to my shopping list!
Wait. They have clear Post It notes??? I love everything about what you did here, and the heap/pile is very visual with your line structure. I learned a new thing, and I’m on the hunt for clear Post-It notes!!
Scott,
I love the shape of your poem and post-it notes. Post its are the only way I remember things because I never remember to check my phone calendar. I need the notes right in front of me, hence they are taped all over my desk and computer screen.
Although, I have to say, you definitely rock with the black and transparent post notes. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
I love the way the poem itself turns into a pile and then it feels like we are also searching through your stacks for these notes of yours. Fun take on this prompt!
Scott, LOL, I AM OBSESSED with your poem! “Folders and files…heaps and piles.”
The structure! And, me too, like Kim, I was today years old when I learned about clear post-its (thanks for that!). This is awesome!
My piles also narrow at the top, just before the cat knocks them over. (And i had the black ones, too!!). So many wonderful me too moments here!
Scott, never hide your love of post-it notes. I like them too. There’s just something about peeling off the note and affixing it to a stack of work with a “So there!” or “Take that!” Your humor is liberating!
Scott,
This is perfect. I love the visual pile of words – and I have been known to use a Post-it or two. Now I need to get the black ones and metallic Sharpies! Thanks for that!
This poem is so much fun to read. I laughed out loud a few times, because black post-its with metallic Sharpies are totally cool!
“You, too?”
I can’t be the only one who —
sleeps alone in the king sized bed
(husband snoring on the couch, tv on)
can’t cook, not even pasta
(everything ends up over cooked)
prefers books over Friday night Happy Hours
(almost every time)
chooses the other ice cream
(making sure my people will enjoy it)
enjoys colder days
(I can always add a layer)
Tell me I’m not the only one.
©️JenniferKowaczek February 2023
Thank you, Britt, for this fun prompt.
Jennifer,
Great use of parentheses throughout — they are are so powerful in the curved holding of your reasonings that take the reader just a step closer to you. So cool how the mark feels intimate. I am lingering on this line “chooses the other ice cream” the “other” fascinates me!
Peace,
Sarah
Yes, me too, Jennifer! When I was married, my ex slept on the couch more than in the bed because the snoring was impossible to manage.
I am wondering about your “other ice cream” and if it’s the one your family enjoys and you don’t or are you choosing a healthier option?
I enjoyed this!
Jennifer, YES to the colder days and adding the layer – because hot is nauseating. You’re not the only one. I’ll brave the cold right alongside you, eating any flavor of ice cream at all.
Jennifer,
I love the tone of solitude that is conveyed through your poem. You craft it in a way that it feels peaceful “sleeps alone in the king sized bed” and “prefers books over Friday night Happy Hours” but not lonely.
Jennifer, I’m eager to try using the parentheses; I love the way you formatted your poem.
Glad there’s solidarity about the cooking 😉 I definitely prefer books over Friday Happy Hours, too!
No, Jennifer, you’re not the only one for many of these descriptors. It was “fun” reading them and imaging there is one more person to whom I can say “Me, too” for more than one thing on their list! Thanks for sharing.
I can’t be the only one
who eats an 18oz jar of
peanut butter each week–
2-ish ounces on a granola bar
fuel my writing for hours.
I can’t be the only one
who cultivates something like a
callus on her sit bones —
wood bankers desk chair
swivels fiction and friction.
I can’t be the only one
who’s perplexed by the platitude
live to blank and blank to live–
teach, write, love, another
all drafts in the story of my life.
I can’t be the only one
who prefers looking for answers
rather than having them,
for when I am fueled & seated
on my bankers chair
I can get lost in possibilities.
Hi, Sarah! Another masterful piece! I was pulled in here and love the idea of our lives being drafts:
I’m pondering “looking for answers rather than having them” because I believe that’s what my mom would say about me. She couldn’t tell me anything! LOL, I had to find out for myself.
Love this!
Oh, how the search for answers is more gratifying than the definitive end. The callus on the sit bones has me chuckling. I swivel in a chair, too, and my restless leg drives folks crazy sometimes. Peanut butter? Yes, with Marshmallow Creme for a FlufferNutter sandwich, minus the granola. Me, too, Sarah. Me, too! I love learning so much about everyone through this prompt.
Sarah,
These lines:“teach, write, love, another/
all drafts in the story of my life.” — hold so much truth. The idea of life being a draft of a story is so powerful. With drafting, there is rewriting and with rewriting their is hope and more chances. Love your beautiful words!
My favorite line is “swivels fiction and friction” because of the word play and the image of that quick turn into fiction or fantasy away from the “reality” of “callus” made in the chair!
Sarah, gorgeous poem offering.
I love when answers just lead me to more questions 🤎
Sarah—I loved “looking for answers rather than having them”! Once that door is closed, it’s closed!
Britt, I agree wholeheartedly with your cost-benefit analysis regarding substitutes. Great idea for today’s prompt – and challenging! If we do something weird long enough, it doesn’t seem weird anymore…
I’m Not Weird, You’re Weird
I can’t be the only one who uses standard English grammar when texting,
Refuses to use emojis,
And would rather handwrite a letter, lick the envelope, seal it closed, handwrite the address, AND the return address (no self-adhesive sticker from Doctors without Borders),
Lick the stamp,
Yes, there was a lot of licking.
Gross, I know, but disease didn’t exist back then
and drop it in the mailbox.
I can’t be the only one who reads magazines printed on actual paper,
Cover to cover,
Every. Single. Word.
I can’t be the only one who is unable to sleep on airplanes,
And will read, magazines instead, cover to cover,
Every. Single. Word.
I can’t be the only one who eats their food in order,
Each item individually, until it’s gone,
First the corn, then the potatoes, then the chicken marsala.
Shaun,
I smiled throughout this, hearing your/narratorial voice throughout with the “Yes, there is a lot of licking” and “Gross, I know”. I am with you with honoring conventions in text messages, though I have learned to use an emoji when I am at a loss for words, which, oddly, is happening more and more these days.
Peace,
Sarah
Shaun,
I was telling my children about the letters I used to write and receive from my grandparents when I was away at college. I still have them all in boxes in my attic. I love writing letters, too, and I love picking out stationary for letters. It is sad that it is truly a lost art form.
Shaun,
Warning: don’t read my submission today, it involves emojis:)
My grandmother used to write us such lovely handwritten letters and I am so glad I’ve kept them to remind me (and my children) of her beautiful words and cursive…almost an ancient art form.
LOL, now that I’ve read yours, this is hysterical 🤣
Shaun, love this! A couple years ago I’d gotten extremely irritated about everything digital, and we subscribed to a couple magazines. I cultivated a routine of reading them “cover to cover/Every.Single.Word.”
Thank you for sharing with us today!
Shaun, I want to share your poem with my students. I have been horrified to discover that people who can’t get enough haptic stimulation from their phones do not even know which side of the envelope is the front or what a return address is. And “lick the stamp,” dare I go there?
Britt, I absolutely love your poem. What a fantastic prompt, too. I think this would be a wonderful classroom prompt. Thanks for hosting today!
Haunted
I can’t be the only one
who loves sun rays, rainbows, and spring
cool breezes on hot summer days
daffodils and violets
autumn’s golden foliage
cardinals on snowy landscapes
I can’t be the only one
who wants color on a gray day
who’s haunted by past mistakes;
who struggles to forgive and love one’s self
who knows the sharp teeth of rejection
I can’t be the only one
who wants to turn back time
hear a precious heartbeat
warm arms surrounding me
Barb Edler
19 February 2023
Barb, I loved the imagery in this and appreciated the turn in tone I felt between the first and second stanzas — as well as the sense I had the the third stanza married the first two. Powerful.
Barb–that third stanza broke my heart…
Barb, I often think of how differently I might do things if I could turn back time…..just hearing a heartbeat and feeling a hug are the things I think would be most comforting. The words you share in that final stanza are words that are made even more powerful when we know each other’s stories and can hear and feel the words in such real ways. For today, you have all of your writer friends’ hugs – and you’ve captured our hearts.
Barb,
Every line here rings true that, indeed, you are not the only one. And yet, there is still something very specific in these lines that are yours alone, that remind me that we can find empathy and compassion for one another, but there is a limit our knowing of another’s experiences. And so I carry your words as a witness to lived experiences and thank you for the beauty in the lines “cardinals on snowy landscapes” that I do not see in Oklahoma but do through your eyes and “sharp teeth of rejection” that I do know well but maybe in a different way. Indeed, there is comfort in knowing this.
Peace,
Sarah
Barb, thank you for sharing your heart and truth with us today. Such a tender poem you’ve offered.
I’ve returned to read the following lines a couple times:
You are not alone in this. 🤎
Barb,
The tone here is longing, and I feel these lines w/ you:
“who’s haunted by past mistakes;
who struggles to forgive and love one’s self
who knows the sharp teeth of rejection.”
Time does punish, and I too wish to rewind the clock.
You’re definitely not the only one who feels these things, Barb – I feel every one! The cardinals so brighten my spirits in winter – that bright red against the barrenness, breathtaking against snow. The phrase “sharp teeth of rejection” really caught me, for the visceral pain in it. How true that is. And oh – to turn back time for that heartbeat and those warm arms – me, too, Barb. Me, too.
Britt, what a great prompt! It truly inspired some deep brainstorming from me this morning, in both prose and poetry. This is what it yielded:
I can’t be the only one who –
Replays that same event
Over and over in my mind
Like a movie that
I can’t stop watching
(over and over and over)
Like a sopping wet towel
That I can’t stop wringing
(over and over and over)
Like a sheet of bubble wrap
That needs every
Damn
Last
Bubble popped
(over and over and over)
Like a hop on a sidewalk
That needs every crack avoided
(don’t break your mother’s back)
)over and over and over(
Like a scratch on vinyl
That replays that last note
Infinitely
(over and over and over)
Wendy, wow, you’ve captured the pain of reviewing an event you wish you could let go…at least that’s my impression. I know I’m often haunted by things I did in the past and just shout to myself “let it go”, but it’s like that “cratch on vinyl” …what a perfect simile! I feel that spinning record skipping again and again. Powerful poem!
Wendy–you are so emphatically NOT the only one!! the repetition of over and over and over–a point of emphasis for every line. (and I really loved the inverted parentheses!)
Wendy,
The whole poem feels like a hopping in the rhythm of replaying an event over and over — you captured that so well, and the images of “sopping wet towel” and “scratch on vinyl” are perfect.
Sarah
Wow! I love the repetition and your choices that show how we incessantly do the craziest things. Bubble wrap!
Scratch on vinyl! Brilliant, Wendy!
Yes to the bubble wrap. What IS it about it that is so compelling that we can’t dispose of it until it’s all popped out??? I love that you are an over and over and over person on some habits. Me, too!
Another quirk of mine is repeating something over and over to ensure a pattern – sometimes I type a word, backspace, type, backspace, type a certain number of times. It’s so weird (& this comment might be my first time ever telling anybody that!!). Anyway, your poem reminds me of those little things I do, and just how satisfying they are for me. I loved reading your poem!!
This is so how my own mind works, Wendy. Events that sometimes loop and loop and exhaust. I analyze and re-analyze – “a sopping wet towel that I can’t stop wringing” – you nailed that simile. It’s a lament, a frustration, and a release all in one poem…to the last bubble in the wrap. So very relatable, so very well-rendered!
Britt, what a way to bring us all together, in a celebration of words and us. I, too, couldn’t watch Game of Thrones and prefer recipes to winging it. Thank you for this wonderful prompt and for letting us get to know you, a bit.
Me One,
Me Two,
and Me Three
all went down
(one day)
to the sea.
I want to play
in the waves,
said Me.
Me too!
Me too!
shouted Me Three.
I want to gather
stones to skip,
and watch the gulls
wing-stitch cloudwhip
and wander the edge
of the waves on the sand,
the image of mountains
left on the land,
and follow the prints
formed one at a time
(whether they’re yours
or whether they’re mine)
because whether we’re a One
or a Two or a Three,
there’s always a someone
like you or like me.
Jennifer, I feel such a strong sense of discovery and adventure here – the imagery is so rich it brings me right there, getting in line to walk the footprints….”Me four!” Such beauty in your words today, the reminder that no matter what, we’re all part of humankind. Thank you, friend!
Jennifer, what a beautiful and lyrical poem. I adored your ending and “wing-stitch cloudwhip” What a playful line full of sound. I too want to “wander the edge”. Gorgeous poem!
Jennifer, I loved the lovely, playful feel of this that the rhyme/repetition, the pacing, and the imagery inspired. <3
I want to own these words…
and watch the gulls
wing-stitch cloudwhip
the picture…
Jennifer,
Your poem has a whimsical nursery rhyme quality with the counting and the “ee” sound repeating. I am captivated by the pronouns shifting in the sequence but also the verb tense from past to present, and that ambiguous “we’re” which could be “we are” or “we were”– ending in “there’s always a someone/like you or like me” which feels comforting and hopeful, a sense of belonging.
Peace,
Sarah
Gosh, Jennifer, you are an expert at creating images that last in your poetry. I see and hear the fun in this adventure!
The ending provides a loving message of unity even in our subtle differences. Love, love, love!!
I adore your wordplay, Jennifer – “wing-stitch cloudwhip” – the rhythms rise and fall like the waves of the sea itself. Playful, accepting, holistic, and healing, in the recognition of all things being interconnected. I feel lighter for having read (and re-read) these lovely lines.
Jennifer, what fun! I can almost hear your poem being sung by kids in the park! Or…on the beach. Me, too! Your poem evokes fond memories of wanting to find someone like me, but glad they were different enough to be interesting!
Love the rhyme and rhythm of this poem. And all the w-sounds of this section:
watch the gulls
wing-stitch cloudwhip
and wander the edge
of the waves on the sand,
What fun your poem is to read!! Thank you, thank you. I’d love to share your piece with my high schoolers.
Please do! And thank you.
Britt, I love this idea. Two of my daughters have husbands who do all the cooking. I feel like there is a new generation of men who cook, and it’s so liberating to women. I picked out your last line to riff from because I am sure, if you are wrangling toddlers, that you are around the same age as my daughters. (This is a list of things I’ve done in the last decade.)
It’s Never too Late
to dance on stage
to zipline across a rainforest
to publish your first book
to hold your first grandchild
to sing a solo in church
to renew a friendship
to open your heart
to let light in
to begin again and again
and again.
Margaret, thank you for your poem. It was exactly what I needed today. It’s so important to look back and say Hey! Look at what I’ve done! regardless of the season we are currently in. I might not be able to specify specific lines ( I would love to achieve many of your accomplishments) I can say Me,too! to the feeling of it’s never too late.
Margaret, your poem is so inspiring!! I’ve been thinking lately so much about friendship (the ones that have ended – intentionally and not). Thank you for this reminder. Beautiful.
Margaret, I love your energy of recharging and renewing love of life here in these words. These firsts are empowering, and in each line I could see you smiling, embracing life! I love the last lines, the universal fit for every reader, the call to action reminder to grab life by the horns and live a new day. Bravo!
Margaret, truth. I love that you offer us the possibility of what can be!
Margaret, I love the open spirit and adventurous sould you share through your poem. Your ending is compelling. I can hear its echo. Bravo. Yes, “let light in”.
Margaret,
I so appreciate your poem for how it riffs on Britt’s, how it extends the poetic thinking from her life to yours to mine and to all the poets here.
The infinitive phrases remind us of our own infinite possibilities to “let light in” and to “begin again and again/and again.”
Thank you,
Sarah
Margaret, yes, it’s never too late! I want to hold on to this forever. I pray I don’t develop fears to try new things as I get older. I want to live my best life in these “latter” days. Tomorrow is not promised.
Thank you!
Trust you to impart such inspiration, Margaret! My heart sings yes yes yes to every line’s truth. Except maybe the rainforest ziplining – it’s the only one I haven’t experienced myself, but I can feel the exhilaration, vicariously.
Britt— this has always been one of my favorite quotes, and your poem happily reflects the pleasure it brings me to start my Sunday morning!
I may write another, more lighthearted poem later, but this is the one that made itself known at 6AM.
Really?
Me, Too!
We hide so much
beneath the social surface
of our smiles
“I’m fine!”
“Things are good.”
“No problem!”
Scratch that
practiced veneer
and you’ll glimpse
The lid of a jar
labeled
“Open
at
your
own
risk”
That jar holds
all the troubles
I do not readily share
with you.
Casual visitors
are
not
welcome here.
Few
are worthy.
It sounds
like a heavy burden—
being worthy—
but there are benefits.
(Hear me out.)
Together, we
pry open
the misery lids
of our sorry moments and
release the contents
into the air
between us.
As our sorrows and shames
emerge, blinking, into
the bright light of friendship
and they greet each other for the first time,
their power is diminished.
the immeasurable value of friendship…
The power of
Me, too…
Gayle Sands
2/19/23
Gayle, this is a beautiful poem. I love ’ It sounds
like a heavy burden—
being worthy—
but there are benefits.
(Hear me out.)’
The parentheses makes me feel like we are real friends. You mentioned writing a more lighthearted poem later but I actually find hope, release, catharsis in your poem. Thank you.
Gayle, thank you for offering this poem. I agree with Brittany – “hope, release, and catharsis.” When I first considered my poem prompt, it came from a place of shame; this idea of “open at your own risk.” The moment of realizing one is not alone and slightly more “known” is liberating and beautiful.
Gayle, I’m with you on the casual visitors, literally and metaphorically. That jar – – that jar you mention is such a powerful part of this writing group. It’s the Me Too – the glue – that draws us together, reminds us that we share sorrows, scars, stories – – LIFE – – and it’s amazing. And so are you, and so is your writing. Such a beautiful reminder of the power of friendship to heal and to help.
I wait for these five days every month–and now I realize why–these days are our Me-Toos…
Gayle, I find your ending especially provocative. Your poem has so many truths in it. I am completely pulled into “our sorry moments” and the lid that seals the toxic parts we all have and do not want to spill onto others. Fantastic poem!
Gayle, loved the hopefulness and community that this paints. It’s easy, sometimes, for me, to suffer alone, harder to pry open that lid and share and risk not being understood. A message I needed to hear today.
Gayle,
You wrote such a beautiful and powerful poem! I love the lines “the misery lids / of our sorry moments” – the perfect metaphor.
Gayle,
Thank you for this poem and the jar metaphor. I included a peanut butter jar in my poem, and I am now thinking about the lid of the jar — any jar — the the twisting on and off literally and metaphorically. I am thinking about what I hold, reserve in the jar and the power I think I have in deciding when to open and close the jar. But then, the ending is welcomed “their power is diminished” and has me rethinking lids altogether — “the misery lids.”
Peace,
Sarah
Gayle, I needed this today. It’s an offering of love and vulnerability.
If only we could all feel safe in our sadness or any emotions we have. I love this.
Hopefully we all have at least ONE friend with whom we can share or shames and move on.
Britt, what an engaging prompt today! I think this is a great way to begin a school year and, as C.S. Lewis suggested, connect with others to make new friends. I feel like I could sit next to you and share those gummy worms and a cup of coffee and talk about all the meals we’ve never cooked. I’m writing my poem in memory of my mother, who’d have been 80 today. She died in December 2015, and I am grateful to have called her my mom.
Miriam
I can’t be the only one whose mother sewed her own formal dresses,
who made matching clothes like in the Sound of Music, only not drapes
who was known as the crab lady on the
pier of St. Simons Island, Georgia for her fisherman skills
who could fly fish and deep sea fish and throw a cast net, too
all while driving the boat.
I can’t be the only one whose mother could wiggle her ears, making us laugh
who could bring a dead plant back to life
who rescued dogs and made them family
who knew all the answers when no one else did.
I can’t be the only one whose mother didn’t have enough superlatives
for all the things she did so well.
I can’t be the only one wishing her mother a happy heavenly birthday today
missing those phone calls to make the world right again.
And I’m not. There’s that brother of mine, who loved her, too.
And our dad, who still sends us random pictures of precious moments,
reminding us how blessed we all were.
are
forever will be
because of her.
What a beautiful tribute. I start the day out, again, in tears.
This line tells so much about her ( and you)—asides show our hidden humor…
“who made matching clothes like in the Sound of Music, only not drapes”
lovely!
I love this so much, Kim! What a way of honoring your mom on her heavenly birthday. So many vivid details of who was clearly a very spunky woman. I love this tie in to the prompt:
So much power and emotion!
Oh, Kim, I love your mom. What a marvelous model of a woman! You have honored her well in this poem. The repeated phrase “I can’t be the only one” is so effective. I’m sharing a tear for your loss today across the miles.
Kim, I am so moved by your poem. Thank you for sharing with us today. Happy heavenly birthday to your mommy. 🤎
I look forward to the day we can sit and eat gummy worms, drink coffee, and talk about your wonderful mother!
Kim, I’m completely enthralled by the striking details you share about your mother. I’m deeply moved by your loving emotions and deep loss. The breaking lines at the end effectively shape the pain of losing someone full of loving grace. Hugs!
Hugs, Kim. So much of your mother lives on in you. So much of her and you nurture the joy in our poetry community. Thank you for this poem that helps us see and understand where you came from and how you became you!
Peace,
Sarah
Oh, Kim, I’m so thankful for the existence of your beloved mom. She created an incredible human being that is you (and your brother too)! I wish her a happy heavenly birthday! I know how you feel missing the calls to our moms. They truly are the reason we are able to make it in life.
Sending hugs!🤗
Kim, tbis is an amazing tribute to your mom. I love that she could fly fish and that your father loved her so deeply. My mother was nothing like this, but I know there are those who had mothers like yours. 🤗
Glorious, Kim.
My mother sewed all my bridesmaids dresses and costumes for my high school plays; she took in sewing for a number of neighbors and friends. The Sound of Music was her favorite movie – I first watched it with her when I was a child. She fished. She adopted dogs…our story similarities end there, but today, as you commemorate your mother’s birthday so poignantly and beautifully, I celebrate the good moments I had with mine. The love for your mother – and hers, for all of you – are palpable in these lines. She continues to be a blessing to you; she’s a blessing to us, your readers, through you. Thank you for this gift <3
Such a heartfelt poem, Kim! Happy heavenly birthday to your Mom! Let her rest in peace and let you find comfort in the precious memories.
Britt, what great inspiration for a poem – you had me at C.S. Lewis, for I’ve loved him since I was ten years old and first landed in Narnia. I have a shelf of his work on my bookcase… your poem is a delight. I, too, am a notebook enthusiast & love PBS. The rhythms of your life are very present here…oh, those toddler-mom days! I am reliving them now with my granddaughter, Micah, age 15 months, who knows one speed: Wide open. But the joy of watching her learn and become fills me with unspeakable awe. -Thank you for this today!
What! You, Too?
I can’t be the only one who
would rather write than speak
drinks more black coffee than water
puts pepper on popcorn
is enchanted by abandoned houses
in various stages of falling down
left my Christmas tree up
until February this year
simply because it was beautiful
and looking at it
made me happy
barely dips in social media anymore
follows murder cases daily
for the latest developments
loves my Grandma name (Franna)
better than my actual given name
looks for hawks and herons
on my drive to work
grieves over the blue heron
not having been at a certain pond
in weeks
(please be all right)
savors the harsh rattling
of cicadas in summer
(heartsong
in the background orchestration
of my life)
senses the presence of my father
in the fragrance
of fresh-mown grass
thinks best and sees solutions
in the dark morning hours
before I’m fully awake
journals my dreams, to be awed
by the constant presence of birds
and the recurrence of
vivid green
Fran, rather write than speak – Me too! (Hard to believe I became a teacher) Your words take us places. The circling back around (to the journal, the birds, the green) draws us from, through, along your journey as if we are gathering flowers or sticks or rocks, each carefully selected for interest, something tangible to remind us of you, until they are placed in one spot, like a collection of Fran, to return to again and again on days when we feel like getting away.
Fran, I’ve suspected we are more alike than not in the many poems we’ve shared. We could have coffee and talk for hours saying “me too” again and again.
Fran, here again….what can I say? You are such a master of words and thoughts, preserving truths in print. The presence of your father in the fresh mown grass is priceless – – so real, and your love for your family is always evident. I can’t wait to see the finch eggs this spring – – I know they are soon in appearing, inspiring new poems and assuring us that the great circle of life thrives best in a place called home.
Fran, I’m always awed by how your writing makes me feel seen (“me too,” if you will). Before even your poem, I love your phrase “rhythms of your life.” Thank you for this.
I, too, have barely been on social media, particularly this school year, and this has made me so much more present in these rhythms of life. Thank you for sharing with us!
Fran, the imagery in your poem is incredible. I especially enjoyed:
“senses the presence of my father
in the fragrance
of fresh-mown grass”
I can definitely relate to this type of natural connection. Your ending is jaw-dropping. Ooooohhhh….just love that “recurrence of/vivid green”. Powerful and gorgeous poem!
Ooooweee! Thank you for this gift today! I am captivated by every image your poem presents.
I’d love to imagine how your mind works with this:
Do you create stories from the houses you see or do you just observe and imagine?
I am all in with you here:
Some mornings, I realize a solution to a problem that had me in a tailspin all day. It will pop up clear as day at 4 a.m.!
Yes, me too!!
Fran, this made me feel like we’re friends even though we’ve never met.
“follows murder cases daily
for the latest developments”
“grieves over the blue heron
not having been at a certain pond
in weeks
(please be all right)”
(***we also have a resident GBH!)
“savors the harsh rattling
of cicadas in summer
(heartsong
in the background orchestration
of my life)
senses the presence of my father
in the fragrance
of fresh-mown grass
thinks best and sees solutions
in the dark morning hours
before I’m fully awake”
From your heart to mine, for real! 🙂
thank you for sharing- we all have our ways.
Intrusive Freedom
Mind boggling -why I think that?
check the door 3 times- rattle- tat!
counting steps as a matter of life,
Gotta be even – or causes strife.
check this-check that- mish- mash,
Entangled thoughts become connective trash.
push them away if I run fast,
But they return with a blast.
Anxious about pretend stress,
cleansing my soul-causes a mess.
favorite colors bring a blessing,
or three crows spotted resting?
Omens, signs, and religious cues,
they are my never- telling truths!
two cardinals seen rumbling,
two souls reincarnated tumbling!
One soul becomes another,
twisted realms of the other.
when seen -know it to be true,
it brings everlasting de ja vu’.
Morning dove 🕊️ brings peace,
unless it caws like a crow from the east.
-as seen for bliss,
-or farewell to be missed.
A hummingbird visit,
breaths life into our spirit.
Her wings flap fast,
reminding us of our past.
Embrace the day,
before your hummingbird darts away.
Hear the owl 🦉 before 12 at night,
Mental melee- internal fight.
Hear him in the Morning,
balanced – mind forming.
The owl is wise,
he understands our two sides.
To stare into a red- tails eyes,
receive all of the Cherokee cries.
Pick a Cherokee rose,
Inhale- while personal understanding grows.
gift it to another,
gain a sister or brother.
So, all these and many more,
infuse my life as a chore.
Even though my thoughts are contrary,
are they contrary to the imaginary?
TODAY
look through circled hands at the sun,
it’ll peer back saying you are the one.
Boxer Moon
Boxer M – good heavens – what an astounding litany, in rhyme! As someone who loves symbolism, particularly that of birds, I am enraptured. We all have our ways, indeed; you have captured so well the jumbled rhythms of thoughts and patterns that we actually experience as humans. Deep awareness; magnificent rendering. I am awed, as I listen this very moment to finches on my porch, discussing whether or not they will build a nest on my front door wreath again, which I left for them for this very purpose – as they are harbingers of joy, and I am inviting it.
Boxer, entangled thoughts become connective trash – me too! I could feel anxiety in every line, (accurate as it never really leaves). You made it palpable, living. Birds have landed in our poems, both yesterday and today, as if to announce the return of spring, and I couldn’t be happier for that.
An amazing list of habits and superstitions. I feel this could become an outline for a book. I’ve been thinking about children’s book writing lately since I participated in Storystorm in January. I can imagine a children’s book about the symbolism of birds written in rhyme. Do you write for children?
Yes I recently published “ Where Peanut Butter Sandwiches Come From”.
thank you,
Boxer
Boxer, you have a way of capturing the essence of you through these verses of birds and rituals. Your rhyme scheme is delightful, and the meaning is enhanced through the intricate details that make you who you are. I like the nod to the celestial bodies of the heavens and our place in this great world, especially there at the end with the directive for today. Well done, my rural Georgia friend!
Boxer, I adore the imagery and sound effects of your poem. Your end has me hanging on, inviting me to read again….Absolutely loved “look through circled hands at the sun,
it’ll peer back saying you are the one.” Fantastic poem!
Wow, Boxer!
Your poem is the epitome of a person who has perfected metacognitive work! I love all the little details that paint such big images and all the superstitions that I’d forgotten about. The one that resonates with me most is the hummingbird visit because they are beautiful but scare the holy crap out of me. One flew in my classroom a few years ago and I literally flew out! My custodian had to come rescue the bird while I waited outdoors. LOL. I don’t want my ancestors to visit me via birds. Please. Just move a table or flicker a light.
You are such a talented poet! I love reading your poems.
What fun to read! Thank you for sharing this with us.
Joyful, joyful, Britt! This was so much fun to read (so far – I can’t wait to see more from others!). I can’t believe how many of YOURS I identify with! This would be such a fun and unique ice-breaker for students at the start of a semester because it’s so true – we really do feel a stronger sense of belonging and community when we know it’s not ‘just us.’ Thank you! My introvert is also clearly showing in this one. : )
I can’t be the only one who…
would rather sit at home alone than tagalong to the bar
makes my own chocolate-covered raisins by eating a square of dark chocolate and a mouthful of raisins
thinks about calling her mother every day but only does once every few weeks
would rather cook at home than eat out
is okay with broken sleep – waking at 3am to the quiet city and dark solitude of the house
enjoys the time in the car on long road trips more than the actual destinations
still sees herself as youthful when she looks in the mirror despite the decades passed
shakes her purse at the full moon for money luck
says a prayer for roadkill
discovered art late in life but is thoroughly enjoying making up for lost time
This is beautiful…I smile because you really aren’t the only one!
Denise – me, too, to so many of these things: I love being at home, appreciates “broken sleep” and the solitude of those early morning hours, and mourns for roadkill. The idea of praying for it is so poignant to me. I shall have to start shaking my purse at the full moon now. 🙂
Denise, we could be travel buddies who just ride and make short stops for coffee and never stay anywhere long. I, too, love the journey. I think I’ve found a fellow travel introvert who just taught me a thing about raisins and chocolate. I’ve never thought of that! Does the purse shaking work?? I need full moon blessings. This is marvelous this morning!
Yes! My introvert self says to yours. I love all the specifics here. I never considered eating chocolate and raisins at the same time. Brilliant! I convince myself that chocolate covered blueberries are healthy antioxidants. Ha!
Denise, I love the way you eat your “chodolate-covered raisins”. Your poem is such a wonderful window into your personality. Your ending is inspiring! Lovely poem!
Denise,
Your poem resonates on so many levels (I need to call my dad), and I’ve become too particular to enjoy eating out anymore. Keep creating your art! It’s wonderful!
Denise, I enjoyed your poem and thank you for being vulnerable. I also prefer home-cooked food than restaurants, and definitely feel and see myself much younger than I am. Great choices that show a variety of beautiful qualities that make you special.
Thank you, Denise! This is well said. I love every line of it, but especially that you make your “own chocolate-covered raisins by eating a square of dark chocolate and a mouthful of raisins.” I don’t do exactly the same combinations, but like the shortcuts sometimes 🙂 I am not a bar person either.
Denise, I have come to appreciate you more through this poem. It would be a pleasure to get to know you. I have several Me too’s in your poem–broken sleep and chocolate covered raisins, believe it or not (I also melt chocolate chips sometimes and add raisins, then eat them with a spoon)
This one I laughed aloud at: “shakes her purse at the full moon for money luck” I don’t remember hearing that before.
Ah! Britt, this prompt and your poem brought me much joy this morning! I was eager to get started, such fun! You gave a beautiful snapshot of your life as a caregiver to your children and students! I too refuse to watch GOT. And I am also not the primary cook in my house.
The prompt reminded me of when I recently told someone that you could tell which yogurt was mine and which was my daughter’s because mine had chocolate chips in it… because I’m clearly the adult here!
Because I’m an Adult
I can’t be the only one who
Well, I’ve always done that.
Brittany, I love how you framed your poem with “because I’m an adult” who chooses freely, and is unapologetic if there’s a childlike rebellious slant! It is a poem of knowing and appreciating who you are. Mac and cheese IS such comfort food – never thought about adding sour cream. The adding of the chocolate chips to yogurt, I think, is a great metaphor for life! It implies a savoring.
Brittany, there’s so much to love here! The things we carry from childhood and adolescence straight into adulthood – – because we are rooted in who we are and how we do it. You bring out the best in these anointed quirks, and make them okay for us too…..(I’m going to add mini chocolate chips to my yogurt now – – thanks for the tip!).
I love the addition of “because I’m an adult.” Isn’t it great to be a grownup so you can do whatever the hell you want to do (within reason, of course)!
Brittany, I cracked up at the title because it’s what every child longs to be able to say one day! You have earned your rights to do whatever the heck you want! Love it!
❤️
Aahh I have met so few people who refuse to watch GOT. I’m so happy reading that!! 🙂
I love, love, love “because I’m an adult” at the ends. I feel I constantly have to remind myself that, even (especially?) with two littles 😉