I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.” —EB White
Most of what we see in the news these days is enough to drive you underground. While hiding away from the world could be an option, sometimes it’s best to look beyond the discouragement and seek out the stories of human potential and possibility—such as the brief article on the college football player who had lunch with a middle school boy who normally eats alone. This story was not a headliner but it gives a glimpse into the promise we have as humans to care for one another, even as strangers.
These are the stories we should share, “like”, and comment on more often. We could do well to remember that most people are good-willed and try to do the right thing, daily. It doesn’t always seem that way in the media, and the world certainly does have its share of sadness and injustice. However, sometimes the bad overshadows the good due to ratings. Take time to peel back layers and find the promise of humanity.
Try It: The Promise of Humanity
Think back on an article you read or a story you heard that is a good example of human goodness and hope. What was it? How did it make you feel? Write a poem about it and share.
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Featured Poem
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Monica we enjoyed:
how to
win scrabble
how to pronounce
rue des fossoyeurs
translate seishin
japanese to english
In 0.47 seconds the number
of results, cranked out
like factory chocolate except
with complex overtones,
is googolplex
and everyone gets
a golden ticket.
Photo by kayla. Creative Commons via Flickr.
Browse more writing prompts
Browse poetry teaching resources
How to Write a Poem uses images like the buzz, the switch, the wave—from the Billy Collins poem “Introduction to Poetry”—to guide writers into new ways of writing poems. Excellent teaching tool. Anthology and prompts included.
“How to Write a Poem is a classroom must-have.”
—Callie Feyen, English Teacher, Maryland
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- Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018
Andrew H says
The floor was thick with autumn’s tears
That covered all the ground
But she was there, and I was young
So I went all unheeding of the sound;
All I remember is a vase, pink as summer
Glowing in the windowsill, and a smile
That shone though age had creased
All that surrounded it.
She was my mother’s mother, and I
Loved her so very much.
We worked together in the yard
To sweep away each bitter shard
Autumn had left to taunt us with.
We talked of many things, I’m sure
That older people must endure
When talking to a child,
But though the day grew dimmer
Her patience did not, and at the last
We’d filled the barrow.
Glowing with happiness, I left her place
And pink, pink vase
A smile across my face.
Because I’d helped her, and she had so very,
Very obviously loved me.
—
For a poem on humanity or love, I never need go further than memories of her.
Donna Falcone says
A beautiful moment caputred, Andrew. I really love the image of a vase pink as summer. 🙂
Bethany R. says
What a lovely image:
“All I remember is a vase, pink as summer
Glowing in the windowsill”
Heather Eure says
Thank you for sharing your grandmother with us, Andrew. I’m glad she came to your mind with this prompt.
Bethany R. says
“Take time to peel back layers and find the promise of humanity.” What a refreshing concept and fun poetry prompt.
Love that phrase in Monica’s poem: “results, cranked out/ like factory chocolate”
Heather Eure says
Thanks, Bethany. I liked that phrase, too!
SimplyDarlene says
I ran after
Cash caught up by the wind. Old man
Tremors shook thin-skin wrinkles
Mapping, catching time as he grasped my hand –
Thank you, dear.
Most Fridays
He brought a shrunken
Woman to farmer’s market, thin-skin
Wrinkles mapping, catching time as he stood
Off to the side – watching her shop.
Apricots
Plums he bought. Why never
Corn I asked. Thin-skin hands
Pulled chapped lips back – Old man
Had few teeth. He declined me knifing some kernels off.
Alone.
Alone. Again –
Where’s your lady?
She’s at the doc. Old man thrust wads
Of cash in my hand, pressed wet cheek
Trembling chin into my neck. She used to be my wife.
Used to be?
I got a Dear John letter while off
At war – she shacked up with our neighbor, my
Best friend. He died. I drive
Her ’cause she can’t see too good.
I walked beside
Old man, carrying his produce.
Tremors shook thin-skin wrinkles
Mapping, catching time as he grasped my hand –
Thank you, dear.
I pressed my
lips to his wet cheek.
[a hat tip to the the most selfless, caring, humble person I met when I worked at the farmer’s market]
Katie says
Text of gratitude
for the ability to write
in complete sentences.
Phone call to say
just wanted to hear
your voice.
Message with link
to share something
learned on line.
***
Many thanks dear son of mine,
I appreciate you and your appreciation
of me and revel in the knowledge that you’re still learning:)
Katie says
Builder,
home cook,
singer and woman.
Lover of music,
of food, family,
and life itself.
You grace us
with your smile
and voice.
The labors of your hands
make my heart rejoice.