Tag Archives: poem

Poetry Friday VerseLove Week 5

Posted on by
12

Today is Poetry Friday. Thank you to Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities for hosting today. She’s been writing daily tankas in April and shares several with us today.

April 24, 2026 – prompt by Scott McCloskey – Lose, Loss, Lost

Three O’clock in the Morning Question

When did the pendulum that works to bend the arc of the moral universe toward justice become a wrecking ball?

April 25, 2026 – prompt by Ashley Valencia-Pate – Slam Poem

After Today’s Reading of the Powell Memorandum, 1971

Our planet is on fire.
Prior excuses require
no revisiting. It’s a new age.
Let’s gauge our impact,
be explicit, solicit true facts.
Capitalism requires buyers–
for infinite production,
resource destruction,
humanity abduction.
Our mother is finite.
Overuse is the twilight
of our imminent demise.
Bastardized supplies.
Everything king-size authorized.
Wealth gap gets deadlier.
The rich get filthier.
Our planet gets fierier.
The poor die. Sigh.
Before a forced good-bye,
let’s aspire to more than they require.
Let’s compromise.
Don’t brutalize.
Empathize.
Emphasize the poor,
chastise the rich.
End vanity;
bring back sanity.
Tax the billionaires;
common our shares
in humanity.

April 26, 2026 – prompt by Clayton Moon – Dirt Road Mystics

Home

This is not my home, except for
occasional weeks spent here
with adult children finding their way
with the hope of the next generation,
with the rivers of blossoms covering springtime,
with the promise of cherries on the side yard trees,
with the Tonka trucks baring the flowerbeds,
with the pride flag celebrating a Seattle of sexualities,
with squeaking bushtits, cawing crows, & singing robins,
with a little grandson saying, “I’ll miss you, Grammy,”
with thoughts that maybe home is here too.  

Pride and Tonkas

April 27, 2026 – prompt by Dave Wooley – Poem Interrupted

A Poem Interrupted

I woke an hour before my alarm got me up–
Time to pee for the third time of the night.
(How have I managed to keep my teacher bladder,
locked tight throughout the day? But never at night?)
Should I rhyme this poem?
Scribble “plants” and “tea” on the crumpled receipt.
(I don’t want to forget my tea cup on the garage floor like last time.)
(What are poetic devices anyway?
I never use them these days.)
I don’t want to forget the sprouting shoots
(Will I even see that receipt? I need to go get
my new plants from upstairs.)
Packing, packing, don’t forget my water bottle.
I guess I’ll get in the shower before this place gets busy.
To wash or not wash my hair. It’s an in-between day.
(I’ve already packed my shampoo; I guess that’s my answer.)
Now I’m out of the shower with a bar of soap in my hand. Why?
Throw my sheets and towels in the washer. Not a full load.
I’ll leave it. OK, I have a minute to sit down before Milo gets up.
What was I needing to do on my computer?
Let me check my email—send address to Irene.
(Fun. I’ll get some snail mail soon from her.
How have I never heard that word, broadside, before?)
(That reminds me, I haven’t said thank you to Linda.)
(I’m so behind on my Poetry Friday comments.)
(And the Progressive Poem.)
(And even Verselove comments…) Where do I start?
(How can I call this Poetry? It’s like I just often hit ENTER
while writing prose…making short lines)
But, anyway, I hear someone stirring…

“Oh, good morning, Sunshine! Are you ready for the day?”

April 28, 2026 – prompt by Jessica Sherburn – Instructions for Poems

How to Write a Poem (Or How to Let the Verselove Hosts Speak for Me)

Inside me there is a river, a landscape,
Slow down, merge gently, for here is a poem.

From darkness to light,
channeling inner birdsong and crystal-splashing waterfalls,
from beginnings to find my way back–
But now, here’s April—month of light.

Be brighter, be belligerent, be beautiful.
In Poetry we say, what stands, what breathes simply is.
It’s the floppy flight of a monarch butterfly,
excellence for the rest of the world.

I should take time to write–
the warmth of the sun shining through the window,
bless this world with peace,
hoping to save the world.

The elements engaged in perpetual play:
Every joy we’ve pictured–
A fragrant curtain falling gently over the story
in between the line of this life-giving text.

Press play, make connections, strategize–
Language is my art, and this is my declaration:
Stop all way becomes stop all war,
a place of symphonic sound.

Then the moon appeared,
so I simply return to our book.
Think critically, fight the boxes,
Reveal the backwoods of stories.

Sitting in the driver’s seat,
let the other half of the brain long for it.

In order of April hosts’ mentor poems and the cento poem above: Sarah Donovan, Leilya Pitre, Melissa Heaton, Kim Johnson, Jennifer Guyor Jowett,  Wendy Everard, Luke Bensing, Linda Mitchell, Bryan Ripley Crandall, Susan Ahlbrand, Kate Sjostrom, Rita DiCarne, Ann E. Burg, Mo Daley, Erica Johnson, Stacey Joy, Kratijah, Angie Braaten, Stefani Boutelier, Corinne, Sharon Roy, Margaret Simon, Denise Krebs, Scott Mc, Ashley Valencia-Pate, Clayton Moon,  Dave Wooley, and Jessica Sherburn.

April 29, 2026 – prompt by Barb Edler and Glenda Funk – Making the Invisible Visible

Commitment

You, in your contentment to be still
Me, in my restless longing for more
You, in sleeping and sweeping
Me, in seeking and completing
Us, in correcting, in expecting
Promises in sickness and health
in thinking and understanding
in clinging and commanding
we are in it for better, for worse,
even when our currents seem adverse 

April 30, 2026 – prompt by Sarah Donovan – Verselove Closing Invitation

Poets embrace today in hope.
Fearing not tomorrow, pens ablaze
with heavy loads, we write and cope.
Poets embrace today in hope,
love and sorrow–the full scope
of emotions dance in praise.
Poets embrace today in hope,
fearing not tomorrow. Pens ablaze.

Poetry Friday VerseLove Week 3

Posted on by
13

Today’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Heidi Mordhorst, at my juicy little universe, who has a conversation with Margaret Simon and Jone Rush MacCulloch about teaching poetry to children. Thank you, all!

April 10, 2026 – prompt by Susan Ahlbrand – Love Letter to a Place You Love

I sit in Beau’s nursery
holding the droll
crocheted teddy bear
that Lynne made
for my first born using
Aunt Thelma’s pattern.
It now sits in my grandson’s
crib, and I realize the place I love
is where the people of my heart
are kept in all their wealth—
the players in my story,
the new and the remembered,
the living and the dead,
heart and home,
word and wisdom,
my people,
my place
my home. 

April 11, 2026 – prompt by Kate Sjostrom – The “Loves” Emulation—A Thematic List Poem that Digs and Sings

On Hope
after Stephen Dunn’s “Loves”

When I hoped,
I smiled
in the rain,
the unpaid bills,
and the fears.

When I was hoped for,
I said yes, and I came:
–to Michigan…
–into the nursery during the night…
–to you on your deathbed…

A hope for America–
(after empire is extinguished)
that she becomes
a new kaleidoscope of
color, light, and generosity.

And what’s more substantial,
more hefty, than hope?
 
Of all homes, this one
Of all endings, quickly

Hope: If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?*

*Percy Bysshe Shelley

April 12 – prompt by Rita DiCarne – The Poetry of Everyday

Everyday Loves

I love eating room temperature ripe tomatoes that in a tiny way remind me of eating warm tomatoes fresh from my garden in Iowa. I love hearing the priest say, “The body of Christ, the bread of heaven.”

I love hearing the silly song I’ve chosen on WhatsApp, which means one of my grandsons is video calling.

I love that Rita and others in April inspire me to write a poem each day. I love that this community will read my poem or others, witnessing love or whatever is on our hearts today.

I love the crunching of sand underfoot and wildflowers filling my view on my daily walks. I love how the curious hummingbird hovers in front of me, almost long enough to scare me.

I love the sound of soymilk steaming, then the filling of my mug for my morning double bergamot tea latte. I love the privilege of sitting on this loveseat with my long love in retirement. 

April 13, 2026 – prompt by Ann E. Burg – Moments of Clarity / Haibun

In 2026, We the People are being led in extraordinary and wonderful ways. Our good Bad Bunny expands our provincial understanding of “America” and humanity. Stephen Colbert’s grace-filled and biting jokes cannot be silenced and will have a new chapter. The crew of Artemis II smiles and keeps silent vigil in the face of blathering hubris. Pope Leo stands tall and humbly against war and evil. And the people of Hungary, in their bellwether election, speak up for democracy. In 2026, We the People choose hope and resilience.

May we stand firm on
the right side of history
We the People speak

April 14, 2026 – prompt by Mo Dailey – Taxing Emotions

this world is not
for the faint of heart
take courage, friends

April 15, 2026 – prompt by Erica Johnson – A Playful Cascade

It is almost 50, & light rain in Seattle. 
Is there anything more predictable? 
No, for this is April. Nothing cruel here. 
Shall we do without hope?*

On the light rail with bored travelers, 
The trees are greening up, 
for they know the assignment when
It’s almost 50, & light rain in Seattle. 

Two more stops before we arrive
and now, just like that, it’s heavy
rain with some added hail while we walk. 
Is there anything more predictable?

Soon I’ll get to hold my grandson; 
And soon after that he’ll be grown. 
But for today, he’s still 3 and holdable. 
Yes, for this is April. Nothing cruel here. 

Greening trees in the spring.
The Pope opining about theology. 
And all will be well with the world. 
Shall we do without hope?*
________
I was inspired not by waterfalls, but by several things on my travel through Seattle this afternoon–the greening trees, *Wendell Berry, JD Vance, who thinks the Pope should not opine about theology, Pope Leo, who dares to speak truth, and T. S. Elliot’s line ‘April is the cruelest month’. 

April 16, 2026 – prompt by Stacey Joy – Beginning Again

A
chain of
knowledge keeps
growing. New links
were added this fine day
at Burke Museum of
Natural History. Sweet
Sponge Milo asked questions and had
opportunities to tend his mind,
to cultivate his curiosity.

National Poetry Month Happenings

Posted on by
6

Today is Slice of Life at Two Writing Teachers. This is National Poetry Month. Writing and reading poetry is healing in this chaotic time. This month I am writing poetry with Verselove, and posting the poems weekly on Poetry Fridays, so far here and here. Today I’m sharing a few extra fun National Poetry Month activities…

The #KidLit Progressive Poem is in progress. Perhaps you’ve been reading about it on Margaret Simon’s updates. She is the gracious coordinator. I’m keeping track of it here.

Tricia Stohr-Hunt is celebrating a lot of unique and fun poetry resources on her blog this month. Here is one she shared last week. It’s a website where you can create Blackout poems with a page of literature. Here is the website https://fouuund.it/blackout/, along with a poem I wrote there.

Here is another link for some word dice: https://www.languageisavirus.com/poem-dice/ to use to write poetry. I rolled alley, triumphant, spangle, tears, wild, smash. I used them in that order to write:

In an alley of worry,
a triumphant blast cries
the star spangled banner
tears of a nation
wild and out of sorts, as
he smashes the USA.

On Saturday, April 11, Jone MacCulloch hosted a poetry session on Zoom. Several of her poet friends, Slice of Life and Poetry Friday friend, Carol Varsalona, and several other friends from Poetry Friday participated. She used the word quake for the prompt, which came from some poetry group in Oregon. (I’ll add it here when I figure it out.)

Hope Quake

Is America faltering,
quaking under
a rumbling of
semiquincentennial
magnitude?
Reaching a breaking point
as Rome and Great Britain
did before her?

But I have hope for a nation
of many cultures to continue,
not as a melting pot of nationalism,
but with turning points
of love and belonging,
with quivers of hope,
hope where all thrive,
where all rejoice in
the color
the light
the generosity
of America
as a kaleidoscope.

Slice of Life – March 31, 2026

Posted on by
19

Happy last day of March, 2026, Slice of Life Story Challenge! It’s been a month of war and longing for a better world. It’s been a month of whimsy and wildflowers. It’s been a month of protest and poetry, of family and fun, of teaching and trials, of literature and love, and much more.

Over at Kim Haynes Johnson’s blog Common Threads, it’s been a month of meeting living poets and centos galore. Centos have been showing up on other blogs this month too, thanks to Kim’s inspiration. I decided to write a cento for my last post, with one line from each of my March Stafford Challenge poems.

Life is the rhyme and rhythm of dancing,
tenderness to bring us life.
Planted here,
filled with memories,
a little vulnerable, but we hang on.
One has cut itself off
on what real Love looks like–
mi hermana–muy bueno con
people’s hopes for their
Armageddon wars.
Will I ever call you that?
Before they are lost in the future,
Jesus, hold them
for a spring snowfall
gifted to play
lighting up
that we are at risk
tsunami of hope
I feel my heart counting moments
to go there with you. Is that sometimes
in difficult circumstances, and she,
created to blossom into zeal,
but you can know and say her name.
A country that rises out of ashes, with a new
power to act,
stand firm, resolute to engage.
Are we there yet?
Pity the nation that starts wars
together in this inhospitable place.
Come into the light
you are the aurora, and I am the midnight.

Thank you to all those who have written, commented, and been part of this community during March. It’s been a challenge and a joy. Many blessings to you as you keep writing!

I’ll be writing poems each day in April at Ethical ELA’s #Verselove. Maybe you’ll join Kim Johnson, Glenda Funk, Sharon Roy, Margaret Simon, Rita DiCarne, Erica Johnson, Barb Edler, me, and many others. No need to sign up. Just join us here: https://www.ethicalela.com/verselove/

Slice of Life – March 24, 2026

Posted on by
4

This morning I finally grabbed a box to add my analog treasures to. Thank you, Leigh Anne, for hosting the analog party. After a full day of digital work yesterday (Slicing, commenting, writing a poem for Open Write, commenting, ordering transcripts, applying for a paralegal certificate program, working on a motion for small claims court for my sister, serving papers to the Attorney General of the United States, and more), I needed to begin this morning without my laptop or phone. I thought it would be a good time to organize my analog box.

Here are the items individually. A box of postcards. I write a postcard a week to my grandson. I’m also part of a monthly poetry postcard group, where we write a poems on postcards and send one to four others in the group. (Let me know if you are interested in that group, and I’ll forward you an email about it.)

A middle grade novel I’m reading by Tanita S. Davis. (Most of my reading is on a Kindle, but I like to keep a real book handy.)

A daily Bible reading of The Message by Eugene H. Peterson.

A ball of yarn to make granny squares because I’m a grammy. I like the mindless activity while watching TV, and I use the squares for making bags or blankets.

Notebooks and a pen

I wrote a Golden Shovel this morning from a quote in an email by Miles Taylor, a resister in the first Trump administration. “We must choose whether his cruelty is a stain on our country…or a facet of our national character.”

We always thought we were better than this, but we
must admit, in the last decade tens of millions
choose to celebrate inhumanity and vulgarity.
Whether or not we admit it,
his indefensible rhetoric has been chosen.
Cruelty is the point, as Adam Serwer says,
is a continuation of American history,
a central theme, inequalities that
stain our nation’s creeds. So this decade is
on par with the previous forty, where
our white asses try to create a
country in our own white image. Do we want this?
Or the option? Where perhaps we can make
a country that rises out of ashes, with a new
facet outshining all the unfulfilled promises
of not denying rights on account of
our “race, color, or previous condition of servitude.”
National ethics, pride, and actions reflect our
character or lack of it. Do better, America.