February Poetry with Ethical ELA

Before this month closes out, I wanted to share the five poems I wrote for Ethical ELA during their monthly February 5 Day Open Write. Every month, for five days in a row, educators come together to share poetry. How I love this poetry writing community! Each day we are presented with a poetry inspiration and encouraged to create a poem of our own. I am introduced to new poets, reading lots of fabulous poetry, and stretching myself in whole new ways.

Here are my February poems:

Day One -

Allison Berryhill kicked off the five days of poetry writing with the inspiration Sonnets (Don't Run Away)  and, with Valentine's Day just around the corner, I challenged myself to write a sonnet for my husband. I'm not sure I ever wrote a sonnet before. It was very challenging! I seem to write narrative poetry - telling a story...

To Tony

You leaned out the window into cool night

Sweaty giddy tired from so much dance

I still see you pausing, precious that sight

Whisper wonder, do you dare take a chance?

Both of us stuck, weighing past hurts and pain

We took the risk lovers always invite

Something in the night air, a soft refrain

To be tender, open, to hold on tight

One night filled with laughter, music, and play

Birthday party, for a friend of a friend

Providence works in mysterious ways 

This is our tale told again and again

Love heals, love hopes, love laughs, love holds us still

Day in, day out, love is, love always will

Day Two -

David Duer provided the inspiration Let's Meet Somewhere, sharing a poem by Diane Seuss entitled "Let's Meet Somewhere Outside Time and Space." We were encouraged to begin our poem with those three words 'Let's meet somewhere.' Here's where my writing took me - 

Let’s meet somewhere
between the said and unsaid
your truth my lies my truth your lies
abandon the bright bombastic red
toss aside the condescending blue
shut down our echo chambers
slip through the barbed wire
dividing us
bloodying us
let each of us
dare
to consort and contort
together
dare
to lift all that is
precious in this world
above our heads
with one hand
while standing on one foot
while our other hand
reaches across the midline
towards one another
dare
to hold this position
feel
the quiet
painful
tension
unrelentingly off-balance
feel
the mix of trepidation and trust
awareness
acute need for
one another
feel
the ground we share
the hopes we hold
together
let’s meet there

Day Three -

Rex Muston provided the inspiration called Out and Back, and shared William Strafford's poem Traveling through the Dark

Here's my poem -

“let the children play”

to the untrained eye, there we were, teachers and preschoolers
on our one block walk to the community playground, however,

this minimizes the work of a wiggling, winding, weaving procession,
herding cats, really, with endless congestion and delays along the route

multitudinous mishaps with shoes and laces, hats and mittens, coats and
zippers, not to mention irascible line partners and unplanned sightseeing

oh my, truck, oh my, broken glass, oh my, everything, anything, fabulous things,
the scurrying full stop movement of preschoolers, one block becomes ten miles

We arrive jubilant,
me in the very front, when,
in one sudden, sly, and deft moment,
I see, grab, and hide

three bullets

lying on our path

a glance, entrance, in trance

and so ensues teaching as improv, teaching in two minds, staying composed while my
insides falter, a blur of joyful children run, laugh, play, and my eyes search the environs,

wondering if there was someone still here that was up to no good
wondering how might I protect these little ones
wondering how quickly I can get us all back to school

how far away school seemed

one clutching hand
touching fear

burning, searing, hating, hurting, devastating in my pocket

Day Four -

Rachel Lipp provided the inspiration called Steps to Being, sharing Brandon Leake's spoken word poem "Steps to Being Brandon Leake." It was very challenging for me to imitate Brandon Leake's approach, in large part because I am so much older! (The poem would have gone on forever...hahahaha) Here's what I wrote:




“a part of me”

I was born
long enough ago
to know that
details must be scrubbed
if attention spans will survive

a part of me
will always be
5 years old
laughing
at my brothers’ antics

a part of me
will always be
12 years old
scared
by my mother’s mental illness

a part of me
will always be
17 years old
hiding
in my room writing

a part of me
will always be
19 years old
talking
late into the night
with girlfriends

a part of me
will always be
22 years old
excited
to be on my own

a part of me
will always be
27 years old
falling in love

a part of me
will always be
35 years old
surrounded
by my young family

a part of me
will always be
40 years old
deciding
to become a teacher

a part of me
well, you get the idea,
the years go by
I grow, I hold

a part of me
will always be
wondering
reflecting
exploring
hoping
writing

Day Five -

David Duer provided the inspiration called Alternate Names - A List, sharing the poem "Alternate Names for Black Boys" by the poet Danez Smith.




Here's where I landed:

Alternate Names for Grief

all is well and then it isn’t
needing to be alone when with others
needing others when alone
enormous weight of empty
sudden onset of vivid memories
becoming comfortable with cold comfort
full stop in the midst of busy
elusive and resounding last words
realizing no one sees the holes throughout your body
solace of birds, tea, quiet
making one’s way through wilderness
lost in the middle of the night, without map or stars to guide
seeking company of bare winter trees
tendency to be two places at once
a time to be gentle with oneself

Watching - a poem

Today is the first day of January's 5-day poetry Open Write with Dr. Sarah Donovan's Ethical ELA! Today's inspiration is offered by Susie Morice and is entitled "Conversations" She invites us to listen to nature and imagine a conversation. I was immediately reminded of an amazing scene that Tony and I witnessed just above our house, as we returned from a walk the other day - and this is the poem that I wrote:

Watching

a bold, dark, sudden
flash of movement

above our heads

as we walked home

drawing our eyes upward

here we were

watching

that treacherous hawk again

every day for days on end

here is the hawk

separate, soaring, and stealth

right here where we live

intent on capturing

hurting

devouring

the most vulnerable

today though, a twist to the plot

suddenly 

a crowd of crows

common, ordinary, ubiquitous crows

encircle and confront the hawk

defending our home

such a wild scene ensued

high above the bare winter trees

a fierce fight, out in the open

these courageous crows

screeching and cawing

darting every which way

nipping at the hawk

pecking at its wings

all the while, insisting

get away from our home!

what have you done to our young?!

move along! we do not want you here!

we've put up with you long enough!

far below

the two of us stood in suspense

useless bystanders

watching

this angry confrontation

in the vast grey cold sky

watching

the crows

raucously yet triumphantly 

chase the hawk

away

Imperfect wonder

Today is the fourth day of the November 5 Day OpenWrite with Dr. Sarah J. Donovan's Ethical ELA. Thus far, we have written in response to "thanks," "giving," and "receiving." Dr. Donovan continues this thoughtful series today with a focus on "breath" and her inspiration is:

Now, I invite you to name what you breathe in. What do you want to, need to breathe in, to receive (yes, return to yesterday’s poem)? This may be abstract or concrete.

And then name what you breathe out. This may be something toxic in your body or life that you want to expel, or it may be something that you are giving to others, the world. Perhaps what you exhale is a wish or a gift.

For the poem's structure, we were encouraged to try a nonet duo or a diamante. Both of these poetic structures are new to me. I decided to try the nonet duo, and I wrote about my forest walks. (These always help me to breathe!) Here is my poem:

walking through the forest in autumn

winds shifting branches with a groan 

craggy old trees standing stark 

sad crunch of leaves dying

light and warmth waning

tired world is 

whispering

take a

breath

keep

walking

look again

notice the worn

the broken branches 

hear their groans as exhale

absorb how old trees stretch high 

sun and shadows weave together 

write into this imperfect wonder

Here are the comments I received on the Ethical ELA website:

Glenda M. Funk

Maureen,
This is truly beautiful. The way you personify nature speaking in

tired world is
whispering
take a
breath

offers permission to pause, reflect, and heal. I love the last line, too. It’s cathartic in its purpose:

write into this imperfect wonder

Amanda Potts, who sometimes writes in this group, posts pictures each day from her walks. All summer she shared flower images on FB and IG. Lately she’s shared dying flower, leaves, and other images revealing the beauty of a tired world. Your poem honors this fall beauty. 

Erica J How lovely to take us through this walk in the woods. I love how as the poem got shorter, it matched the scenery around you also “waning” — it was prefect! And then when it starts to expand again you bring this hope to the poem. I really appreciated that twist.

I absolutely love the line ‘write into this imperfect wonder” — that aspect of nature is my favorite to capture as well

Thank you for sharing this poem!

gayle sands

Maureen—I needed this. In the last week, three close friends have lost—or are losing—family members. I need some solace.

Sarah J. Donovan, PhD

Maureen,
I want to be the tree in your poem stretching high! I love this image of “sun and shadows” together — complementing toward — and this — “imperfect wonder”! Wow!
Sarah

Alongside

On this third day of the November 5 Day OpenWrite with Dr. Sarah J. Donovan's Ethical ELA, the poetry inspiration was about 'receiving,' thinking about what I need most and how that might change things. When I sat down to write, I unexpectedly landed in reflection about my father's death. This poem emerged:

I sat alongside you 

in mask and face shield

your last three weeks

holding and stroking your hand

listening to the playlist

I made for you

on the long car drive to your bedside

I sat alongside you

whispering love and comfort

reminding of our childhood antics 

reassuring you of this life well lived

imagining Mom and Grandpa

waiting on the other side

I sat alongside you

in the nursing home

in this pandemic

thankful for this precious time together

I asked you

is there more?

how might you let me know?

come back to me somehow?

would you try?

will there be a sign?

I sit now

waiting to receive.

Moon or sun?

Wind or rain?

Bird or butterfly?

Fallen tree on the forest path?

you 

alongside 

me

Here are the comments I received on the Ethical ELA website:

Barb Edler

Maureen, oh my gosh, I totally love your poem. I can feel your desire for that sign. What a wonderful gift you gave in being there for your beloved (grandmother?). The beauty of the end is heart-wrenching, and your final three words are so powerful! Tears! I hope you receive your sign!!! Hugs!

Maureen Young Ingram My father died. Thank you for this!

Barb Edler

Maureen, thanks for your note. I’m so sorry for your loss!

Glenda M. Funk

Glenda M. Funk

Maureen,
Your words are so ethereal, and I know cathartic for you. Your poem is a lovely companion to Susie’s. There’s an inherent peacefulness to this time w/ your father, and to the waiting. Sending love and light to you.

gayle sands

Maureen—You alongside me. Beauty and love. Your soft, loving poem for your grandmother touched me. So glad you could be there for her—and for you.

Emily Cohn

This one got me “right in the feels” as the kids would say. I really connected with your last two stanzas, and that hope/wish for a sign, a connection. Really beautifully done.

Susie Morice

Oh, Maureen – losing your dad .. and now during these crappy Covid months is just a heartbreaker. The gentle holding of his hand was the most poignant image. The questions in the last half are very real as we make sense of the loss. The sense that loss feels final but our hearts carry so much more. Those signs sneak up in us. It always surprises me, and I kinda like that. I sure am sorry you had this loss during this crummy isolating time. Hugs, Susie

Nancy White

Maureen, my heart is breaking. I know what loss is and the waiting to receive a sign. “ I sit now
waiting to receive.
Moon or sun?
Wind or rain?
Bird or butterfly?
Fallen tree on the forest path?”
This struck a deep chord in me. Signs do come along the way; I think you will see them. Blessings and peace to you! 

Stacey Joy

Whew, Maureen, this is a powerful poem. I feel so many emotions in the first stanza that reminded me of the end of days with my loved ones. But your second stanza is magical and special because it calls for supernatural power. It can happen. I believe. Thank you for sharing such an intimate time with us.

Gail Aldous

Maureen, such beauty, power, and, emotion in your poem. I relate to your words because I lost my mother a little over a year ago. I remember waiting for signs. I love your whole poem, but “Moon or sun? Wind or rain? Bird or butterfly?
Fallen tree on the forest path? you alongside me” goes right to my heart. Wow.

Gail Aldous

Maureen, I also want to say I am sorry for the loss of your father. I also want to say thank you for your sharing healing poem.

Following a feather

Yay! It's Day ONE of the November 5 Day OpenWrite with Dr. Sarah J. Donovan's Ethical ELA! I love that this month's challenge surprised me in my email inbox this morning...so excited to write poetry with this lovely community again. Today, Dr. Donovan encourages us to think about thanks - and to write into this. After much thought, I centered on how much I enjoy my walks with my granddaughter. I am truly grateful for this time. Here's my poem about a recent walk together:

feather, small and gray

lying in our walking path

once seen cannot be unseen

get out!, you demand

so, the stroller’s belt I undo

together

we bend over 

looking closely

only to have the wind

lift it 

into the air

sending it forward

beckoning

you and I in pursuit

laughing

following a feather

I received these thoughtful comments on the Ethical ELA website:

Glenda M. Funk

Maureen, I’m feeling the joy in watching you and “Frog” chase a feather and can’t help but think of Emily Dickinson while reading your poem. The idea of “the wind lift[ing] it in the air” and “sending it forward” is filled w/ such hopeful movement.

Kim Johnson

There is such beauty here – it reminds me so much of the feather falling off the church steeple in Savannah in the movie Forrest Gump! I love the movement and the reactions.