A Poem of Slices

As I was reading posts a few days ago, I came across this post titled, Slicing Titles Make a Poem. I was intrigued and immediately I thought this would make a great last day post! Rereading through the titles made me smile. I'd already forgotten some. In my work to create a poem, I tried to keep the titles very true to form. I added three words to the entire poem. For me, the revision was mostly about moving around and making the lines fit together. I had fun revising and creating this poem. Here it is...

Currently…Introverting

Real peek into an ugly moment

From grumpy to grateful

It’s the small things

Like conversations about flamingos and

A day with a friend and lots of chocolate

Am I a writer?

I don’t wanna write

How do I notebook?

Here’s my day in notebook entries

My day in six-word memoirs

We are writers

Words hurt, words heal

The seven writers I’d like to meet

You can blog about it

Why am I teacher?

You teach middle school?!?!

Sixth graders save the day

Sacred words, sacred friends

I can’t keep quiet

Ten years in the blink of an eye

Nostalgia

What’s left?

Reading moments

Tribes

Favorites party

Starting over

Flexible seating

What’s your theme song?

Podcasts

This has been a poem of slices.

Thank you for another amazing year!

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers for this amazing platform to write and share writing! What a wonderful community you've created! I'm honored to be part of it. Join us at Two Writing Teachers.

What's Left?

This is the next to the last day of the slicing challenge and I'm searching for a meaningful and interesting idea for a post. I have lots of blog posts from other bloggers saved to use as inspiration, but I'm not feeling them right now. I just spent thirty minutes looking through blogs for more ideas. Nope. The only thing that comes to mind is this: "Everything's been written already. What else do I have to say? It's been said." You know what those words tell me?!?! That the judge is taking over. I'm too tired to push it away effectively. I've nudged that voice over enough to compose these words, yet I feel doubt regarding their importance. Writers...We write. We tell stories. We tell the truth. "Is any of it original? Is that even important?" NO. Stop!

I showed up here. I searched and listened and searched some more. I tried and failed. I tried again and now I'm writing these words. Are they brilliant? Nope. Why? They tell my story today. I'm struggling to think creatively, yet I showed up. I'm here doing the work and that's what writers do. What's left? Write. Show up. Push through. Do the work. The words will come. The story will emerge as long as the writer is there.

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers for this amazing platform to write and share writing! What a wonderful community you've created! I'm honored to be part of it. Join us at Two Writing Teachers.

My Day in Six Word Memoirs

My day (Tuesday) in six-word memoirs...

Alarm woke me, well rested.

Cheerios. News. Walk dog. Get coffee.

Beautiful sun shining over the school.

Suddenly, rain pouring from the sky.

Thunder and lightning make it exciting.

Lots of debating, writing, and reading.

Big news. Good news. Transitions. Beginnings.

Days almost over, time to write...

Only two slices left. I'm sad... but proud of this accomplishment. Yay!

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers for this amazing platform to write and share writing! What a wonderful community you've created! I'm honored to be part of it. Join us at Two Writing Teachers.

Words Hurt, Words Heal

Yesterday was Monday. It was very Monday-ish too. Mondays usually don't bother me, but yesterday, it got me good! To quote the brilliant Judith Viorst,

What happened? Words happened. Words hurt me. Words frustrated me. Words shamed me. Responding to these situations isn't easy. Sometimes I fight back and other times I let go. Today I did a little of both, but most importantly I turned to my own words. Writing helps me sort out issues. Writing brings me peace of mind. Writing often answers questions that I didn't even know I had. Here's a poem that poured out of my day...

My notebook became Mine today.

I grabbed it

in a moment

of pain and

despair.

It’s in this moment

when the pages

offer comfort

and protection

they become part of me.

It’s in this moment

where trust is earned

by guarding and preserving

these words, these sentences,

these stories.

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers for this amazing platform to write and share writing! What a wonderful community you've created! I'm honored to be part of it. Join us at Two Writing Teachers.

Sacred Words, Sacred Friends

At a conference this weekend, I heard a speaker say that writers see and experience the world differently. Something happens and it becomes fodder for our notebooks (or blogs). We see life as a series of stories. I agree with this characterization and I feel grateful that I am a writer.

My friend, Christine, is also a writer. We met as writers in a writing group more than ten years ago! Our words connected us immediately and they still do years later.

Words are sacred to us. We notice them. We share them. We ask for feedback when we write them. Words are sacred and it seems that only writers truly understand that relationship. Christine lives far away now and we rarely get to see each other, but our friendship remains strong through the sharing of our words. Words from my friend mean so much to me. They lift me when I'm down. They show me who I am when I forget. They guide me to better places. They keep me company when I'm alone. Here are some words shared between us via social media since we live more than fifteen hundred miles from each other.

My wish for you is that you have a friend who shares their sacred words with you.

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers for this amazing platform to write and share writing! What a wonderful community you've created! I'm honored to be part of it. Join us at Two Writing Teachers.