Each month this blog will feature a word of the month to stimulate a poem. Anyone who wishes to share a poem is invited to participate. The point is to enjoy the challenge of writing a poem inspired by a single word. It doesn’t matter if this is your first poem or five hundredth. It’s all done for the fun and exercise of writing.
Cutoff for posting the current Word of the Month poem is the last day of the month.
On the first day of each month, a new word will be posted to challenge your imagination for that month.
Please post your poems on this page, so everyone can find the poems easily.
Thank you and have fun!
David
PS: The word for November is US.
Kids like Us
Some think we’re quite lazy,
Some might call us weak.
We languish in classrooms
too timid to speak.
Testing is torture,
we’re judged by this score.
Our interests and talents
should matter much more!
The struggle is real, though –
we’re trying our best!
Please don’t overlook us,
we’re not like the rest.
We’re scratching and clawing,
though not with a fuss.
Keep helping us teachers
And ALL kids like us.
Having taught for over 30 years, this really hits home, Susan.
Thank you, Linda! A little boy I subbed for last week inspired this poem. (and many other kiddos I taught through the years!)
Very nice one, Susan. And when, as a teacher, we are lucky enough to see those kids bloom, it is a particular pleasure.
Thank you, Karen. And yes – it’s amazing to witness “the light bulb turning on” for a child!
I agree with Linda. As a teacher, this poem really speaks truth to struggling kids. Great reminder to see things from their perspective.
Thank you, Michelle. I know that so many kids really do try their hardest…but they just can’t meet the “standards” set for them. It’s sad!
Susan, as of one of these kids left behind, I thank you for this poem.
Thank you, Mary. Your comment means the world to me!
I also sub in schools and have been drawn to these kinds of kids. Thank you for this!
A lovely start to November’s offerings Susan. And so much truth in there
Thank you, Bryn! And I really enjoyed your poem, as well! I’ve been an “us” for almost 35 years now, and can’t imagine my life any other way.
I LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT
Us ….. I like the sound of that
Us …..
For so long now it’s been me
Just me.
And I hated the sound of that.
But then, out of nowhere
Came you.
We …. I like that too.
I plus you equals we
Us equals you plus me.
Whichever way you look at it,
That’s how it’s meant to be.
I’ll just say it one more time
Us ………
I like the sound of your poem, Bryn.
Bryn, when you posted this I thought it funny how you were thinking along the same terms. I had only just been so disturbed by the words twirling through my head the first week of November that I got out of bed and wrote them down. The scratch paper I wrote it on became lost in a mound until yesterday. As I reread all of the poems this month, I find that yours is quite different actually. I like the sound of it!
Very poignant, Bryn. Beautiful.
Angels Smolder
By Linda Boyden©2018
Above us
as they keep watch,
angels smolder.
The younger ones
swish swords from scabbards,
anxious for vengeance.
The elders say nothing but
peak their eyebrows at
the impatience,
the impertinence of youth,
glare the youngsters back into smolder.
When all is calm,
they resume their tedious watch.
Below,
we sing our psalms of madness
churn up the planet
slice our neighbors’ throats
butcher their good names
tear and thrust
rip off fingernails
rape
plunder
burn at the stake.
We have the gift of free will,
a chaos that itches and burns,
that yearns to create but
hungers more to destroy.
We rant through our sorry lives
unaware of the choir of angels
that smolders above us.
Wowsa! I loved the images you painted in my head! I always think of angels being kind and sweet, but I think you’re right about them smoldering in these times!!
Thanks, Susan!
This has been haunting me since you put it up. I’ve removed my shoes and socks to walk your hot coals bare-footed. I am moved. My angels wear their soot on their wings now.
Thank you, Janine.
Linda: Angels intrigue me, and your poem adds to that intrigue. I especially love the idea of angels smoldering. Wow! Great job.
Thanks, Karen, and I can’t imagine they wouldn’t be upset with us now. We must stay strong.
one day
u found s
and stopped to make a zesty gingerbread “us”
to showcase when sugarplums appear
and bells ring
and children’s fantasies twinkle high:
NOEL for u and s!
all rights
Jeanne Poland
How sweet are your words!
Mission
There were a group of us
Traveling across country
Loaded in a large tour bus
Not one of us liked to fly
We were on a mission to discuss
Bees, moths and butterflies
Planting gardens of flowers, plus
Colors, fragrance and sizes that qualify
Providing nectar to creatures
In our mission outcry.
© Mary Nida Smith
I want to travel with you and feed the butterflies too! MonarchWatch.org
What a wonderful thing to do, thanks for this poem.
First busrides are so interesting…. hope you enjoy.
BUS RIDE
Today, for a treat,
We’re taking the bus
Here’s a peek at the folks
Riding with us…
Musicians who lug
Huge instrument cases
Nanas with smiles
On their wrinkly faces
Yogis who hum
As they practice their breathing
A tot who keeps fussing
(Maybe she’s teething)
Teens holding hands
As they whisper and giggle
A tall guy whose ankle
That constantly wiggles
Spikey haired folks
Sporting every bright hue
A man with a ring on each finger
Some two
An actor practicing
Lines for a play
Ohhh…
I wish I could ride on this bus
Every day.
©KarenEastlund
2018
And who wants to illustrate this contemporary jaunt?
I could just imagine this poem as a children’s picture book! I’d have fun reading each page and discussing the beautiful illustrations with kids!
This is a very fun ride!
For years I rode on buses and this reminded me of the various interesting people you see.
We and Us
are two not three
though we had three
no longer wee
they’ve gone,
are free
to be
their own
us or we.
Now it is
Us not them
you see?
So we are
back to two
just us.
What’s me
to you &
you to me?
Simply
now it’s
us and we!
A fun play on words!