Teaching Is...

Turning in my P.R. keys

Going back to those

who might need me

Classes full of

boisterous, jostling

kids

talking too loud

not worrying

about the mechanics

of English grammar

they say

The Count of Monte Cristo

is too boring

Pride and Prejudice is also

I almost might agree

but its really about

building character

deepening understanding

as I well remember

my own distaste

for A Tale of Two Cities

meaningless outline

crafted by a would-be

English teacher long ago

I must make them see

knowledge is power

build in them

the drive to succeed

teach them a little

something about humanity

and respect

Respect others

Respect themselves

I will have

50 minutes per day

to accomplish this

Teaching is a lot

of things

and not for the

faint of heart….

Haikus

Diving down in murk
Spearing fish for dinner
Behold tiger shark!

It’s almost school time
Get out the sensible shoes
Tell them grammar is cool

Haiku Poetry

Villain you bleak soul
Running wild with scissors sharp
Shredding hearts like air.....

I have done it now
Allowing you inside this tale
We might get trapped here

Haikus

I feel moments lost
as the dark creeps in early
summer wanes in evening

Black birds gather there
against a darkening sky
fall looms at the door

Did Funny Go to Sedona?

Recently it seems, I've lost my sense of humor, so I thought I would repost an earlier topic when I thought I was ready to head for Sedona.  I am still missing the teenager and his multiple messes, the one who is now happily ensconsed away at college.  Then below is a new idea where I am imploring the Funny One to maybe cut me some slack.

I think I would like to drop everything and head to Sedona, Arizona. Why is this? Well what better place to commune with nature to enjoy the red hills, dry air, and in general, just forget about every day annoyances. Some of the things that I might choose to forget right now are:

• the neighbor who glares at me, then blocks my drive: then again....
• the mini fire that started on my back porch
• those pesky last 5 pounds
• how behind I am on reading....and dusting things
• my teenager and his multiple messes
• that it is baseball season on TV, soon to be replaced by football with all my camo-wearing, 4-wheeling, hunting happy fellow townsfolk
• the governor, maybe....
• the poor, disturbed lady who was madly searching a pile of rubble for a lost barbie shoe
• the person with a full cart of groceries ahead of me in the express lane
• the intern student in the office who spent an entire day scribbling signs and penning sayings such as: “Bleep the Vice Lord”
• the Vice Lord, whoever he is...

Funny

When Funny left me

she let me down hard

turned the corner sharply

at the Avenue of Despair

She took my sense of humor

and deposited it like a bad check

She took happiness

and packed it up

in Louis Vuitton

Funny, I never knew

she was so materialistic

I can't understand

how she could exit

grandly

She gleamed of

no remorse

"Get out your hanky, girl,"

she said with a smirk

How could she allow

me to melt in all this gloom

in a Cyclone of Sorrow

and to persecute me?

she said,

"Would you really

rather have

some nervous energy?"

Funny, yes she left me

headed for the hills

I rather thought

she preferred the beach

Then I asked her kindly

"Do you think

you'll be back?"

She rolled her eyes

and sniffed softly

in my world of Blue

and said,

"Dahling, you know

it really depends on you..."

The House on Tenth Street

I passed by this old house

one evening

alive with candlelight

where it stands

on 10th Street

it has been there

since the early 1900s

against ratcheting time

life expanded

and dissolved

like the neighborhood bakery

barber shop, trinket stores

horses and carriages

replaced by autos

Bonnie and Clyde

roamed the backside

of these streets

World War II ushered in

rationing, praying

tears amid destruction

A tornado hit close

sixties racial turmoil

schools closed

This house was here

when Andy Sims

disappeared without a trace

in 1961

It has been lucky

to remain

in a place where they

tear down history

trying to keep appearance

hip and modern

not even considering

how we need

the contributions of yesterday

and how we can admire

the continuance

of the elegant

yet simple style

the testament to the past

the grace of another time

the comfort that

all those candles

must give to those

returning home

Farewell to a Friend

August is one of my favorite months in all its scorching glory, but this past month hung heavy like drapes of sadness overlapping memories. The first thing I had to cope with was my son growing up overnight and heading out into that big, monstrous world to compete with all those other young idealists, or maybe we could just call it “going to college,” nevertheless, a big step.

On the last day of this very emotional month, I received news of the death of a childhood friend. Like any bombshell that falls out of the sky on a regular Monday, news like that can rattle a person to their core. It's at once upsetting and unbelievable. I think back to the last time I saw her and the last time she messaged me to call, and I didn't take the time. Why must we always be so busy? So busy that we don't have time for things that really matter like a great friend? A friend that might need someone to talk to, maybe a small gesture that might mean so much to someone. 

Life is tough in general, even tougher for some people. Everyone has different challenges. Everyone makes mistakes. As we become older, we realize that perhaps the best feelings that fill a heart come from helping people and making this big circle of life connect to support each other.

With a heavy heart, I will say goodbye to my friend. I believe that her suffering has ended here. I believe that we go on. I will grieve for her family, her only daughter, and her little dog she left behind. I will bemoan, for a long time, not making the time to visit with her, to listen, to maybe help her sort out some of the future based on our kinship of the past.

So go now, dear girl

into that light

the day has mellowed

around you now

this bounded joy

endless dreams unfold

no more burdens, worries

or heartache

just stars

without limits

and love

without boundaries

a perfect lasting peace

calmness and serenity

and as you look down

and see me muddling

through this life

know how much

I love and miss you

and valued your friendship

Someday on that

distant shore

in an unknown place

a perfect retreat

I hope to see you

smile at me

like it's 1979 again

and maybe

we will laugh and sing

and drive your green Vega

in a city beyond

into another realm...

Rose Colored Glasses

You had to get out

those rose colored glasses

head down memory lane

thinking it sweet like molasses

How but how did these

people become strange?

Nope, you never imagined

how much they did change

Friends a long time ago,

friends no more

Couldn't get gone fast enough

couldn't find the door

Just kept thinking

is this really who?

Now a bit senile and crazy

and republican too!

The ones who used to live outward

expecting more

Now seem to be shallow

uncertain bores

The guru, the rocker,

where did they go?

Those rose-colored glasses

tell us it is so

The only thing certain

is unending change

Keep those past people

under wraps,

let them be strange

In today's world it is possible to find probably almost anyone that a person used to know.  I wrote this poem for a friend who looked up a few people from his past and found out the hard way that many times they are no longer the same people they once were.  That being said, do you think it might be best to, as they say, "let sleeping dogs lie...." ?

The Fearsome Fredator

There is a fearsome,

formidable Fredator

He's loose, on the lamb,

and you can't be sure

that he's not watching you

and could be near or far

He might be under a chair,

in a swing, never in a jar

The Fredator is stealthy

like a jet in the air

Travels around

with nary a care

Lazy sometimes

with eyes like slits

moves like a panther

man, he can blitz!

A Fredator who is solid

and really quite stout

Who naps, hides and watches

and mans a stake-out

He is nonchalant and crafty,

a wonder to behold

The Fredator has teeth

and claws too, I'm told

Will there be a sneak attack

in the mid of night?

Will you jump from your bed

roused in fright?

The Fredator he poses

just like a king

Royal and raucous,

wearing his bling

I wanted to warn you

for when you go out

That a fearsome Fredator

might be about....