Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.
Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.
People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.
With or without the words,
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God,
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.
The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.
If I had been given the chance,
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.
When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....
....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.
If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within,
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.
Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.
Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.
If I had been given the chance -- past tense....
....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,
until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.
December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S: 28 - 2 = 26
January 7th, 2013
It is said that he was weak because he would not
conform, could not subjugate his will, would not
let them imprison his mind, cage his spirit. Weak
because he stood alone and not with the milling
mob. Weak, because he would not speak the
words they desired to hear. Weak, because he
smiled when others wept, laughed when others
wailed, stood tall when others bent beneath the
toil of life.
They prayed for him to come to his senses and
become as they. He, though he didn’t pray as
they, desired the same for them. He knew that
there was no strength in the coalition of the crowd,
no truth in the mumbling of old truths, no love
in the demands of unconditional love.
He appreciated their prayers, they did not so
much appreciate his. He would listen as the
sound of the choir filtered through the air and
caressed the trees and wonder why the
vibration stopped when the hymn ended,
why the sermon stopped when the preacher’s
voice stopped echoing in the apse.
He would sing the song in silence as he walked
the village roads, roll the preacher’s words over
in his mind, smile at soaring hawks and old
barn cats, straighten a fence, remove a stone,
bid good-day to those who thought him weak.
He was not rich nor was he poor, neither wise
nor foolish, he just was. And so he shared his
weakness with all who thought themselves
strong, his loneliness with the friendless,
his thoughts with those who sought to teach him,
his spirit with those who allowed their spirit to be
It is said that he was weak by those who never
dared to share his weakness.
John G. Lawless//10/15/2014
Submitted to Verlena Walker contest
My shortcomings are overwhelming; however, my strengths are defeating them!
O Teacher! My Teacher!
I would dare to channel a master just for you.
I know not if I am up to this lofty task,
but it is to your expectation that I try to rise.
You never asked for anymore than my best
and I love you for never demanding any less.
O Teacher! My Teacher!
If you had not opened a locked door,
the engulfing rays of enlightenment
may never have caressed my yearning face,
or held me tightly in her awakening embrace
releasing the song desperately trapped in my soul.
O Teacher! My Teacher!
You always said I had a great gift.
If that is true, I heap all praise on you.
You have the most wonderful offering of all
for within you rested the ability to recognize
the potential now flowing freely under my pen.
O Teacher! My Teacher!
I will forever hold you in the highest esteem.
I am not certain if mere words could ever express
the appreciation I have long held for your guiding hand.
Undaunted by the impossible task now in front of me,
this student will once again try to impress his teacher.
This piece was inspired and written for Professor Judy Davis who taught at the College of Central Florida until she retired. She was my English Literature and Composition teacher the first time I went to college. Many go into teaching, but the special few, like Judy, are called to the profession. She is now enjoying her retirement, but her old student here still communicates with her occasionally.
Under her guidance, we stood at attention
forming a row for the national anthem
"Oh Say, Can You See?"...those familiar old words
We would sing, not in unison
but with avid enthusiasm
out of tune, out of rhythm
with our childish delusions
that we were quite good!
As we stood in the room
she would move down the line
with a frown in the lines
of her brow, then would bow
till her ear matched our voice
and her hand would be poised
with two fingers ensued
keeping time with the tune.
She would grit all her teeth
bite the inside of cheeks
Such a serious task!
it was all that she asked
that we please..do our best
When we mastered, at last
She would gasp, then exclaim
as we sang each refrain
Mixed with tears, she would clap
I remember it now...
Here I stand in this row
with my hand on my heart
as the first strain imparts
Yes, I know those old words...
they'll remain part of me
'til the day that I die
"O Say, Can You See?"...still familiar to me
But no..............I can't see....
There are tears in my eyes...
For the Project UFO Contest: Sponsored by Robert Heemstra
Alot of you folks have been able to say what you feel this holyday season with exquisite
wording and beautiful sentiments. I can't do that. Maybe if I tell you a story about a
little kid who was raised and worked on a farm. A farm boy in a class of city kids is ridiculed
for some reason and beat up alot cause that proves to city kids that they're strong when
they beat up a farmer kid. So I did the best I could with my sense of humor, got beat up
when challenged and avoided other confrontations by learning to run real fast! When they
picked teams for basketball, I was odd kid out. Too little. I found it hard to fit in anywhere.
One fine day our 7th grade teacher gave us a homework assignment to write a poem
which we would read aloud in class the next day.The stipulation was that, on your honor, you
could have no help whatsoever. A solo project.
After chores that night, I did as she said and was surprised at how easy it was. The
next day, when it was my turn, I timidly read aloud to the class the first poem I ever wrote.
When I finished, I awaited the verdict . All was quiet. The teacher told me to sit down. I did.
She then admonished me for cheating on my assignment and getting help. Of course I did
not. I still vividly remember how it felt to have all my peers watching me as our teacher
dismissed me for a cheater with a look of disdain on her face. I was speechless, devastated
and embarrassed by what others thought.
The experience pushed me deeper into myself than I had ever been.. It's amazing to me
how these feelings are resurfacing en force as I write about it. I've written poetry on and off
since then but never taken it seriously. It was just some force that reared itself once in a
while until it was subdued by writing one.
Now, in the autumn of my life, something very strange and wonderful is happening. I
have been introduced to you, my poetry soup friends. The injustice done to my poetic soul is
every day being identified by myself, rectified and healed by your loving support. I'm no
longer throwing my poems away. You have given me in two months what has been missing
since the 7th grade. You have given me courage, confidence, encouragement and the
companionship to take up where I was left off. Because of all of you, I can grow again. I was
at a stalemate in alot of things and then this. Coincidence? More like Christ incidence. Get it?
YOU are my Christmas gift from Love come down! This is my card to you.
GOD BLESS YOU ALL.- ROBERT
LIFE IN THE FREAK ZOO
When you meet a deaf guy no one says -
Wow, can’t you hear this (whistle)?
How about this (bell)? Or this (handclap)?
When you meet a blind girl no one says -
Oooh, can’t you see this (flashlight)?
Or this (computer screen)?
So why do people enthusiastically check out my ability
When they hear I’m colorblind?
Colorblind ? ! Oh boy, ( a freak !) this is exciting….
Can’t you see green? Red? How about yellow?
What color is this sweater? That ball?
What colour does grass look to you?
What about traffic lights?
How do you watch television?
Feels like I’m in a zoocage.
At school I was always in trouble because
In my drawings I colored the grass red instead of green.
All the same to me, but the teacher
Got quite abusive and angry because
In her world grass had to be green.
And tell me, who ever made it law
That oceans should be colored blue?
Mine were always purple, all the same to me.
Would the teacher have said to a blind kid,
“You little fool, can’t you see the grass?”
Or to a deaf child, ”Hey stupid, can’t you hear the music?”
Oh it doesn’t really bug me but
It’s interesting to see people’s behavior
Towards certain afflictions.
It’s not fair
But then it never is
All the teachers
All the learning that they got
It couldn't prepare them
It couldn't stop it
Or halt it
Or even control it?
The whirlwind that is I
All the promises and
All the lies
It was all too much
It was never enough
The whispers behind my back
The taunts, and jeers;
Even the teachers
Who are supposed to protect
and keep order;
Just walk away
Just ignore her
She’ll go away
Yes Mrs. Mother
Well stop it
She has coodies
No one likes you
No one wants’ to play with a lesbian like you
It would be so much better if she were gone
I wish she would just leave forever
I never showed my face
But you still;
What did I ever do to you?
What could I have done to you?
I was only ten
Just barely out of childhood really
But I can't really blame you...can i?
No I can't
My only option left
Did it make you happy?
Did you smile?
Was all that work
All that cruelty
All that heartache;
Was it worth it?
Did it finally make you feel better?
Like you were better,
Who was your next victim?
Not like it matters
They didn't help them either
You can't see
You refuse to see
Just like the teachers
They all failed
Not only me
I hope you all are proud.
You never listen
Yes I know it's true
I see you try and deny it
How's that working for you?
I will say one thing
You will hear another
I will try to fix it
The misunderstanding you see
I just got in trouble
(Sigh) I told you so
They never listen to me
They say they do
And I know they try
But all I want to do is scream
"JUST LISTEN TO ME SOMEONE PLEASE"
All I asked is that you think
What is real?
Do I ever ask this?
Will I ever again?
All I really did
All I want
Is to be free
Free to listen
And free to be me
You'll never see
Just how much your
Not listening has killed me
I have tried
Really I did
I know that I'm not eighty
I know that I'm not nice
But the only thing I asked
For was five minutes (at the most) of your life.
I'm sorry that you failed
I'm sorry that I tried but
Mostly I'm just sorry that
I'm not sorry,
White board…names written hori-
To go pee…right when class starts –
THAT’S just wrong…
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!
Not using lunchtime to do
No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.
One after another they arrive
Steeping my eyes in the world
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.
My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?
Class or Claaassee !
Night owl with an open circumstance fears
from blue neglect with the rages of unfortunate
idealisms---“why don’t you”---a nag nag nag
sequence, fosters an arm’s length gaze glance
I peer through picket fence fingers, while tongue
depressing hop to it euphemisms to gag
your elementary gesture fantasies with lurking
adult gonatitudes, (envy) in full glee—“I don’t
care---but then what if”---and
would even believe me if I tried to tell
you the truth, you don’t want to touch in mind.
I fail to the order of kindergartenal suicide
and prose my character to mold your moods in
one tenth hope of a swelled down deep particle
secret desire. Take it for what it is and not think
to misabandon, stop look and feelisten.
Your neighbor is only good as you. Plain
simple downdeep and bittersweet bliss bias
but for—lorn fortunate to at least gain a
Goldilocks glimpse into your uncouth
vascular unconscious. Given a mathetical
½ chance I may le-learn a think or 2
and----------------------hey, gimme me a hecka break
as he razed her eyebrows.
to help us understand,
The beauty of the world and all its magnificence,
In hopes of cherishing all that we see,
and becoming a wonderful person with each discovery,
To be our pillar of support,
Embracing arms that we run into to confide,
They shield us from negativity as much as they are able,
So we can decide on how to fulfill our destinies,
Much like guiding angels from great fables,
One of God's gift to mankind,
The creation of teachers,
To lead and to instill values,
Harboring hopes of one day,
For the pupils nurtured and groomed,
To make the world a better place..
We wave good bye now
Yellow paper hearts
staple gunned to the bulletin board
flapping in the fan breeze
She nods at her work
The chalkboard washed and dried
And with gnashing teeth
One by one those staples pried from their chest board
breaking, tearing the delicate paper-thin poems
One by one they break her hearts
On the desks, the apples molded
Like she did them
From seeds of wisdom she watched
their minds ripen
You want to teach me how to teach yet you are not so discreet with your racial and social preferences.
You want to teach me how to be "refine" yet I would get a fright when I see you at night.
You want to teach me to socialize yet when we meet in the streets you turn head to wave at the other person who is busy crossing the street.
You, my teacher, have taught me to forgive
You , my teacher, have taught me to be genuine
You, my teacher, have taught me to be sociable
Although you possess none of these....
Written some where around 1962
By Douglas Malloch
In honor of Douglas Malloch with the hope
That I am only honoring this great Poem
By reproducing a part of it
This is not the beginning of the Poem ‘The Teacher’
A general, a great divine,
Yea, Men whose names with luster shine,
Learned Latin at that simple shrine.
For here the great began
To dream, to wish, to hope, to plan;
To day was born tomorrow’s man.
And so the teacher grew to gray;
And fifty years have passed away
When someone happens on a day
To pause before the teacher’s door,
The threshold that the children wore
A half a century or more,
And asks, as that good man appears:
“Are you not weary, tired to tears,
Of teaching Latin all the years?”
A simple answer he employs
To tell a teacher’s holy joys:
“I don’t teach Latin – I teach boys.”
God bless the teacher who can look
Above beyond, the open book,
The one who teaching undertook
Nor merely for the Latin’s sake,
But for the holy chance to make
Tomorrow’s man, a soul to wake;
By Douglas Malloch
This great Poem quoted in honor of all sinbcere Teachers & ‘Andrea Dietrich a teacher’
This is also in honor and love of my wife, who also is a Teacher.
Energy and passion,
excitement breeds attraction;
a brilliant work, a masterpiece
explored in true love fashion.
Traversing plots with disregard
for clear-cut truths,
it must be hard
Our cartoon minds
the words she spins,
the twist; the end.
I walk out the door
and know my thoughts mean
I've watched the war from behind closed doors;
Eyes too glued to close.
And now knowing what's in store, there's porn no more.
God's love is the only hope we know.
We are forgiven because of the love that is Jesus.
We are saved because of the love that is Jesus.
We give our lives to the Father for we are His children and He loves us.
We are loved!
No matter what we've done, we are loved!
Confess and ask for forgiveness;
This is such a beautiful gift!
Thank You God!
Thank You Jesus!
You forgive me!
You save me!
You change me!
I am changed!
I am new!
I am renewed!
I am forgiven!
I am saved!
I am changed!
There's porn no more
For God's hope is in store!
There's porn no more
For God's love is the hope of the world!
An Ode To LIFE
As I lay my head down and start to fall asleep I see myself being carried off to a place and time the place of our Lords birth in Bethlehem of Judea
As in the Bible tells the story of His life and how he lived and died in that human seance and rose on the day He told of
I do not remember being here but I remember the story I was taught so many years ago
As I walk through the streets of Bethlehem I see each scene and hear every word as I am learning the story they telling is true
The writer writes of a jealous King and his way of dealing with his people and of Mary and Joseph who came to Bethlehem to have a child
The story tells of the three wise men who saw a star in the north and heard of a child who was born to be the King of the Jews and come to see and bring Him gifts
An angel from the Heavens above came to Mary and Joseph in a dream and told them they had to leave Bethlehem or King Herod would have their son killed
So they left Bethlehem and went to Egypt and there they lived until King Herod no longer ruled
As I follow along in my dream I see each scene and hear every word as I am puzzled by the fact I understand each
I don’t understand why I’m going through this time but I know I must continue on this journey
As I am pulling through a time where I reach the place of Jesus’ in Nazareth of Galilee
As I watched Him grow and work in His father's shop I could see the thing in Him that were with me
As I walk along the streets and look around I hear the people talk of a child that speaks of wondrous love that’s all forgiving and of a Father in Heaven that’s loving and true.
By Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Inspired by God
Whisper me the sweet sound of freedom,
The sweet sound found in Your Name,
Holy and Heavenly freedom,
All in the Name of Jesus!
They praise me like a saint,
But I am a sinner;
They don't know the man they see.
I am an addict.
Broken eyes to pornography,
Only Jesus can set me free.
Only by His death on the cross
And the grace of His Father's love
Am I able to be set free.
With God as The Light,
The One and Only Light,
The Only Hope in sight,
Will I be set free.
I am free.
Numbness as I walk in halls
A heavy load in my hand I bear
Tome of the ancient past
Portrays a fog in my mind
Emptiness, void and vanity
As I look at zombies like me
Consumed by an epidemic...
Which left us cold-blooded
At the darkness of dusk
When the sun shines no more
I lie below the tombstone of my grave
Devoured by a sleepy hollow in my coffin
Vitality where are you?
Where are your streams of life?
I' am lost, Where am I?
Oh wait, that's right
I'm in college
If you sit tight, and promise not to spite
I will tell you a story, when I was not in my glory
grade one, a new chapter
who knew my teacher would be a captor?
that’s right! I said it!
a washroom run, she did not permit
there I stood
as still as I could
but I couldn’t help wiggle, then jiggle, and out popped a nervous giggle
first I got a casual stare
not two seconds later, a frightening glare
Oh no! I thought
a quick exit I sought
I could feel the rush coming
my small feet started drumming
how could she be so cruel?
this has got to be against some rule!
and there it went
the warm stream I could not prevent
I could tell she was mad
but I had to go SO bad!
she pointed the way out
boy! Did she shout!
“go to the loo! You twitsy-poo”!
Oh. So you thought that was it?
why don’t you take another short sit
to the principals office I walked down
sporting a most shameful frown
she also looked unimpressed
thank goodness, I was wearing a dress
my underwear was wet but my clothes remained dry
if I had to wear lost and found clothes again, I surely would cry
I pictured Mrs. Marriotti as a belly dancer
while she called mom for dry underwear, but there was no answer
I was vexed, with what happened next
you’ll never believe me
the travesty that was caused by my pee
not only was I humiliated, and my new teacher I did annoy
but the underwear I had to wear for the day was made for a BOY!
January 30, 2012
CONTEST - Dr. Seuss is on the loose (G. Rix)
We walk talk like champions in the streets of nowhere planting seeds birthdays turn into funerals the life cement was not strong enough to build our hopes or blessings that petrol drive through our hidden abilities we all have spare wheels that God personally manufactured for us and He made education our only air filler for flat tires and this is why we don't stop and breath on our way to our dreams before we get admired right at this moment sum1 is getting cured through the love of spoken worded words laying clear pictures and he could name us life pitchers with endless scriptures and that's for his ears as he turns to be the world's champion
My heart sank
That buttery sweet voice
summoning me to the front of the class
I stood there chalk in hand
The question you asked
for the answer you knew
You chose not to teach
rather to embarrass
I was not a welcome guest
Hallowed halls of learning not my home
I stared emotionless
blackboard covered in dust
Laughter filled the room
Still I could shrink no further
oh how I wished to disappear
You called on one of the special ones
a joy to behold
She removed the burden from my hand
I returned to my place of shame
sitting at the head of the class
#teacher #education #children #mentor #caring #giving
An A+ teacher does their best to make a child smile
And they take the time to listen for a while
An A+ teacher does not worry when dealing with a class of over twenty
They simply take control, steering young minds to learn plenty
An A+ teacher is good at captivating young hearts
They are always dedicated to doing more than their part
An A+ teacher is a positive influence in a child's life
Always there to give direction and advice
An A+ teacher is one who puts in extra hours often unseen
They learn quickly to deal with things that cannot be foreseen
An A+ teacher fully dedicates their life to others
And every year they trade one group of students for another
An A+ teacher often stays up late with papers to grade
And then gets up early to go to a job for which they are underpaid
An A+ teacher encourages learning in young minds
And does their best at the job they are assigned
An A+ teacher gets no bonus for each child they encourage
And often have to pick themselves up when they are discouraged
I am so glad my child has an awesome teacher with a capital A
A big heartfelt thank you is all I know to say!!
I'm not wearing underwear
I can’t afford to clean my clothes
I shower every day
and sensitive skin from soap and psoriasis makes me itch
But I have bills to pay
I know you understand
Raising my little half brother and half sister
I've only met once
who are an ocean away
But this isn’t my story, it's yours
and the memories that remain
I know we've talked about it
Your pain and mine
About dad an alcoholic, and the abuse
and how you’re still attracted to it
But I still remember soo many nights
And soo many strange days
You dragged by your hair
I'll never forget
You thrown through the door
is embedded in my head
You with black eyes
you fell out of bed
I remember everything said
My brother’s name
Psychological abuse for you
soo long ago mom
You left and I don’t blame you
Years of you being cheated on
And dad would introduce us to his girlfriends
Easter holidays treasure hunt
While your husband was out betraying everyone
I know you know
That he talks poorly about you
And acts like the better man
But mom I remember
and you need to understand
What you went through
And the nights when I heard the door slam close
because you were fighting
and he told you to leave
That was how I met god in a sense
and always prayed for you to come back
Then finally I prayed for you sanity safety and for you to leave
And I would cry
as quietly as I could
cry myself to sleep
and chances are
dad either fell asleep
or went out in his drunken stupor
to cheat on you again
The divorce is over
It’s been over for years
But yet its still messy and I bite my tongue and remember
The night you came into my room
And told me you had to leave
I remember taking beer to kindergarten
Hiding it from you and dad
To throw it away
And my teacher in grade three finally asked
No lie mom
I had the same teacher in kindergarten and grade three
I could write an entire poem
about all of the people who shaped my mind
But I need you to see
When I come visit and am called an incest family man by your boyfriend
for giving you a hug
You’ve fallen into the same trap
And it’s like my own mother I’m not allowed to love
You think you’re teaching me a lesson
By what you say….or alternately by your silence
You think you are teaching me how to behave
Or what to think
Or what to say
Teacher, I don’t want to learn
The lessons that you teach
You have imbued them
With your own philosophy
The lessons are biased
Full of mind control techniques
The hidden agenda is clear
You want me in subjugation
To your wishes
Not a person in my own right
With a thinking, reasoning ability
Teacher, I can teach you a lesson or two
About true love
About the “live and let live” policy
Teacher, most of all
I want to teach you
To love with no strings attached
To love without constraint
To love without demanding obeisance
To love without conditions
To love because of love
Teacher….you need to learn
A lesson or two
About love, life, and sacrifice
Desire, Need, and Paradise
Tell me, Teacher, are you willing...
To let me teach?
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I'll shine brighter than ever
when I find my way past my woes
the farther I wander
the more I shall know
that I'm a friend with consequences
and only one could let that go
He somehow convinced me
that I needed correction
now I know where I'm going
for I followed his directions
no more full of blaming
I point it right at my nose
and realize all my problems
are by no one else controlled
Will I ever shine
with a destiny, kind
I still have little meaning
but he is there with me, sometimes
when our doors have been locked up
for so many years
it feels good to have someone
come in my circle, share my fear
Everyone so full of hatred
afraid of letting us by
even when we're most broken
still a spark in our eye
you think that would tell them
that we just want to live life
to the fullest potential
that our dreams aren't denied
We talk of good and evil
agreed on right and wrong
tell tales of when we struggled
and what we did to be strong
as the world the he's seen
is darker than mine
I am less respected as a person
but I accept that, it's fine
for he talks to me like I'm worthy
and proud to be my friend
that's why I could never replace
all the treasured words of wisdom
he gave me like a story
of survival, rise and fall
though I am a friend with great consequences
I could never begin to replace him, at all
my personal Jesus, I see the great Messiah in him
I hope one day to inherit his good heart
to pass it on to some kid one day, struggling.
I just don't understand. I was raised right and taught to be a man. Yet i lived a life of being ranked. Listening as the girls explained what i lacked. I wasn't a bad kid. I didn't enjoy doing the stupid stuff the players did. I always had a smile on my face. Didn't walk around sagging and acting like a fake thug. And yet... I was treated like a nobody. Barely acknowledged and always underestimated. Now i'm not saying this for pity. I'm saying this cuz i have realized i have never truly said how i felt. Anger always under the surface from my past i have to let these emotions, these feelings out before its 2 late. For an example, today i yelled at a teacher. Now the teacher was annoying. I was sitting doing my work and she walked up on me taking the rejection of her as a teacher by the other students out on the good kid. I was sitting there thinking about the past and she came on me. I snapped, "Lady how you gone get on me? What did i do to yo to deserve this treatment. You need to focus on your bad kids and back up off of me. I don't feel like talking to you." I put my head down and covered myself with my hands realizing that i had an explosion of emotion, dealt on an innocent bystander. I need to let these emotions that are rumbling and shaking, hiding in the shadows, showing a side of me that i don't know, i need to let these emotions out! How to do this i don't really know. Should i yell at the top of my lungs that i hate the world? Go back to the crushes of my past and slap those stupid, foolish, girls? No i think this has been enough. I thank you for listening to my words. No responses needed i just needed to be heard. Already my muscles tense from the emotions have started to relax. I feel so releived, as if i had just took a deep breath after a lack of oxygen. There's nothing else really to say. Again, i must thank you for listening to this.
To the Newtown Children
A poet cries with broken heart
Look thine hearts be washen clean with death,
God knows how hastily can be
By an unfitting goodly young man
Become just another evil’s killer.
Take thou no mean of life
That so tenderly and small
Arranged now along that cold room
Where a hundred of parents
Like you and I look on poor children that thou think:
One day they shall be a doctor or a thinker like us.
To understand really why the hungry death
Has to do for their final journey in front of this sickness?
O, children! American children! My children!
I warn thee in all my heart and soul
That could not happen so earlier on life
And where thou cast the peace and saint in the kindness of grace
Take care of them from danger, thou take for a leaf
And makes my heart bleeding every one like us become angry
How in this heavenly nation this massive fate could occur?
Hold me fast in thine embrace God,
Where my despair cannot be silenced,
Let you and me and everyone else to knee and cross
Our fingers against our chest and pray for them,
Give them, Lord, thy blessing give,
Pray for them and mother as well,
And I shall finish this poem with trembled
Fingers and tears cascading over this bloody
Sheet as an awaken wind has just blown it from me.
In a moment there was time a child could grasp corporeal and gracious
It stopped and I carefully gave non notice to educasees
that paused me to bleed blend assinine inaccurate aforementioneds
to preprocure a mule measured primrose pathos of interposes to analyze the ex ever jutaposes of irrevelant psuedo spawn spellings intrinsic of piss patterns nego
nero nitro nuego of lunar literant intent grating gravity gunite givings presupposing cannon quantites quotient of add, substract, multiply, divide, die in my seat work consistent of soulservitude a prisoner of seatzenda, a great book read poised to a
selling of elementary sealed solvent sedintary solices sleeveless saints of sanitary sectors sanctioning soulful sensibilities senitent of sailable sanities. Boys will be boys, ADD,ADHD a cool cover up for 80 % legis lay teachers to drugafy, deamplify, villify, castrate, humilitate, propogate the post predisposition of that which is normalcy to a degree of zombie cumulo butt compliance for the powers at be be-gone, biploar bulimec, blandering, blistering, bloging, bifurcating blog bog billows, stress all that is pharmacorelative with respect to the adultoparentive coaxial moneyisms that speaks to a bygone exoera of residio responsibile valiumviscous banailty. Cool calm creepy excel expenditures procede pre positive parental protocals procreating patterened presentials to predictive humo end hiatial hemorroids. In the end we prosperspire in pain pile potentials. Predictable predicates promise postmortem primal preordinates. Enjoy eating educational entrails!
They never predict the consequences
Of their hurtful words;
To them, cruelty is a way
In order to make all pay!
You all have witnessed how it goes;
No need to tell you how;
Just rewind in mind the old days
And try to figure why!
We think we had it all,
Reached the end of the road
And believing we should stop,
We miss ourselves behind!
It should not block the path;
Life really does go on;
Yet, once it is all said out loud,
Can it be turned down once more?
She fired her comments in cold blood,
Kept stabbing with a smile;
She never thought of hiding the venom
Of her so-called advice!
He sat there stunned;
Aggravated by all means;
To him this was the final halt
Crawling with slow steps!
You all may be wondering,
And questioning about
The truth behind the identity
The poem talks about!
I am the one who stuttered
And sweated with every breath
I know not why I stayed silent
All I know that I was forcibly
Muted by Authority!
© Guru Jad 2013
It's a real story that happened in one school
when a teacher appeared to be a complete fool.
Once when a teacher of math was sick
a teacher of physical education came, named Nick.
He wanted to show how intelligent he is
so he said: Solve my problem please!
- The car moves at a high speed.
To go to Spain a plane we need.
How old am I if the plane now is high in the sky?
- If to take all these tasks and mix
we’ll get the result: You are twenty six.
- Right you are Johnny!
Your arms are scrawny but brain is brawny.
How did you solve this problem so quick?
For me it’s easier to break a brick.
- Well, our neighbor being so sleazy is thirteen,
and my mum says that he is a semi cretin.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
For Francine Roberts contest "Humor Me"
They sit gossiping
around on chairs
Under shady walnut
Sh! Sh! Backbiting!
Abusing! Loud laughing…
A proud young man
Abused his pupils in
When I in innocence
And reminded of his
For the poor pupils I saw
Opening their books on
Another one, a Master, I
saw was pulling his
And dragging her in…!
A lecturer kissing his girl
students on cheeks,
whispering in their ears,
A broad shouldered tall
teacher would kiss and
The plum-cheeks of my
One among now is a KPS
An old lame teacher,
A drinker, abused the
pupils all the time,
Often sitting cross-
legged, lighting a cigar.
O! Let’s stop it here…
but a sick Sikh
Now I see had been
Would beat at prayer-
The poor pupils
sweating in sun,
Without seeing the
And beating with willow-
twigs their soft thighs.
Thanks to the highly
In private sector
But the curriculum be
And not fatiguing and
O O! Recently I have
heard of the teachers
Who gave me a
One is shouting and
hurling stones at people,
Another is dumbfounded,
hardly talking to any one.
Whom have you hired
Drivers and Boucher—
I wonder and I ponder…
But, let I at least protest.
Quietly you gather your stuff, eagerly awaiting the bell
so you could do what you were born to
Quickly, you gather your thoughts
hoping you have selected the best method to unveil and dissect this poem
Wittily, you engage the class
and we could not help but laugh and participate in the controversial discussion
You with your charismatic personality have made learning easy.
I’m remembering a class I taught at
Bohank Business School,
Poetry 101 –
The grading papers chore,
The mental anguish,
God. what a bore!
It seems that President Swink fancied himself
In the writing of verse
And as I’d been published –
Had a name of sorts, you see -
He’d upgrade Bohanks image -
Poetry 101 fell to me
This journeyman’s folly
Was considered a snap,
A way to fill out the transcript
Least amount of pain.
No mental strain
Imagine the skill of my students,
Among them not a three-point
Most were, like, car wash wash-outs or
“Welcome to Walmart, sir “
“Like fries with that?”
Minds a desperate blur
“Write an original poem”
I had instructed after weeks of
Stuffing the 30 with Longfellow, Auden
“Make it short,
No clichés, hates or
There was this one stud – Alex Smart –
I real wise guy was he,
Ass should have been an added last name
He would yawn
Ask dumb questions yawn
When I’d illuminate
He’d yawn add on
I’d graded 30, near given up for the night
Next in stack was Smart’s poem,
A ballad “Love’s Delight”
The first two stanzas were ho hum
I thought of his yawn angered
Night’s drudgery definitely done!
Then one line with…a…a just-fit word
Hit my mind like a soft beam of light
And I sought to recapture the title
Yes! “Love’s Delight”
Smart’s poem a delight
Just one line had made my night
The Dead Essays
Today I wore all black
But there is no funeral procession.
So I just went to work and sat at my desk
Before piles of essays which need to be read,
A red pen in my hand -
Because I am old school
And the students can deal –
And it would seem that women
Of the mid 1900’s were being oppressed
And that is the reason they were all insane.
Yes, all of them. It is clearly stated in paragraphs two and three,
The introduction and the sad excuse for a conclusion
Which is hanging on at the end like some sort of cough.
And here it would seem the student forgot all syntactical purpose
And I am quite certain “When women were alone”
Is not a sentence, and yet it is punctuated as such,
A big fat period where there should only be a comma.
The chop, chop of simple sentences
And yet I am relieved because at the very least,
It is a sentence… no matter how misguided the idea.
Oh, and the idea because today women are equal to men
In every possible way, and I hope the tone is sarcastic, biting, a little ironic,
But no… it is not.
This child does not know to capitalize I
Let alone how to portray through language
A tone which is biting, satirical, humorous.
It would seem I am dressed appropriately after all.
A teacher steps in front of a class.
“Today we will be learning…”
Your inability to respect us?
The fact that you don’t want to be here?
Her mouth continues to move but I can’t zone back in.
Why do we attend class?
So we all think the same?
To never improve our economy?
I pay for a professor to take away my creativity.
She gives me an “A” for conformity.
Every teacher teaches with his or her own style,
Each student thinks with their own opinions.
No person gets the same education.
The one thing we all learn is there’s no such thing as accepted individuality.
They say reach for the stars,
But the curriculum chains our arms down.
One would suggest- think outside the box
What is a box?
Is it adults’ inability to heed?
The parameters of others intelligence’s demise?
To think outside; to exceed,
Though society isolates and punishes when we do.
You demand our ideas not be connected.
How can we do this when we are required to posses the same perspective?
Were brought up to follow.
If you have to think outside the box, why is there even a box?
Why not get rid of it?
Then the teacher regains my focus and asks,
“Taylor, what do you think?”
I allow silence to fill the room and take time to respond,
EMMA SUE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY
She’s looking happy for a change
“Emma Sue’s a ‘Four-Eyes”
We call her that and other names
First a threat the stick!
But then her Mother appears with some paper bags
Bulging within thick
Miss Mengin’s room is at attention
So early too then
It’s only 9:00 a.m.
The bags are placed within a closet
Then locked away
The entire LONG day
Her Mother wears some worried wrinkles
Says a word to Emma’s teacher frowns
But throws a smile before she leaves for town
At lunch on the grounds
Emma Sue as usual stands aside single
Doesn’t try to mingle
But there is something within
Hope in her eyes
Shoulders up elevated chin
By 2:15 excitement of the morning seems forgot
By Emma Sue? Certainly not!
Both she and teacher rise together
All eyes are lifted puzzled looks
Quite forgotten the grammar books
Girls and boys begin to whisper
‘Four Eyes’ grinning see her cheeks bloom
At front of a thrilling room
“It’s Emma Sue’s Birthday
See what she and her mother have baked
One for each and every person little cakes
Put your books away
No more lessons
The rest of the way”
For Emma Sue I must say
Those tasty cakes made all the difference
Well? At least for one day
Two children insist to be exist
Whining, whining for some stanzas
New window opens their world
Hey twins what are you up to?
One girl sits besides me on her curiosity
And one boy keeps yapping and yapping
The most talkative and demanding students that I ever had
Writing this Poe under the threat of eleven years old twins sibling
They are going to hack this account. They said.
One Poe for a desire of new knowledge to be quenched
Still they read with a lot of comments and complains
What an annoying one
But still, they are the most wondrous students that I ever had
Now they are searching for my white hair
What a day
So should I stop or should I continue?
I think I better run and trick them that I need to poo
Ok, they get distract!
Time to run away from these nasty little two
Man should feel very bless
in having Teachers around that care
for the learning process
is an on going procedure
or it should be, for Life to progress,
For if any man thinks he knows it all
then think again, as such
for how then did they get to know so much
in so little a time
or did they?
So thank your lucky stars
to have peoples around that can teach
for Teachers are very special indeed
and even Teachers know
that the learning process never stops
It's only people who stops the learning way
when they think they know it all
and when ignorance put his foot in the door
and bemoans his lot and cries
he should have listened and learnt
learn't a lot more when the Teachers were around
but it's never to late
there are Teachers out there
just waiting for you to attend the class
for the learning process never ends
no, not even in death, not even then.
He wanted to teach you something today
But you resisted his every effort.
You said school is boring, you hate it.
Minds engrossed in useless trivia,
Cold comfort in a job-hungry world
Echoing thoughts of seventies songs,
We don’t need no education.
He wanted to teach you something today,
To help you to grow, understand and improve.
Your rebellious refusal condemns you,
Another brick in the wall of ignorance.
In frustration, he took back his gift
Unopened. Resistance is futile.
Humans Live For Adventure & Mystery
That's Why GOD Keeps Some Things Under Lock & Key
(Eccl. 3: 10, 11)
So, We'd Search & Seek & Survey & See
& Either Answer, 'At Last!' ... or Say, 'Enlighten Me' ...
and GOD Will Have Wonders To Show
... I Know What I Know
I've Picked My Course - Prepared My Brain ...
Into A Station of Connections & Synapse, Super-Train
I've Made My Mind Open-Up & Carefully Chose
A University Where Knowledge, Flourishes & Flows
And For The Letters That Represent A High I. Q.
I Love Alpha & Omega & Phi Beta Kappa's Ok-2
Its A Great Privilege of Being A Pro ...
... 'Cause I Know What I Know
I've Lived, I've Listened, I've Labored, I've Learned
I've Been A Student ... Yes, Knowledge - I've Earned
I've Longed, I've Loved, I've Libraried & Looked
I've Been An Acolyte ... of The Greatest Book!
and Something In Its Pages, Bestows ...
... What I Know ... So I Know
Yet No One Down Here Is Really A Know-It-All
No One On Earth Knows Everything, Because
Every Human Being Is Ignorant of Something ...
At Sometime; Of Someplace; In Some-Way; or Some String
That Could Attach To The Rope That Elevates Our Minds
That Makes Us Climb Harder & Higher To Find - Wise Signs
King Solomon Was Once The Wisest Man
GOD Gave Him Insight To Understand
Solomon Said, "Everything Is Vanity" ... All Our Plans
So Enjoy Living - But Be The Best We Can
So Our Buying, Our Building & Even Our Escrow
... Adds To Our Vanity, I Know
Yeah, Nobody Likes A Know-It-All
or Even If You Know Just A Lot
Even The Bible Tells Us To
Tone It Down ... Or Stop
(Prov. 9: 7, 8 / Matt. 7: 6)
'Cause Hearing Something That You Don't Want To Know
May Feel Like A Banged Elbow or A Bumped Toe
And I'll Respect Your Wishes, If You Say No!
... But Still, I Know What I Know
So, If I Sound Like A Raven or A Bold Crow
or An Owl At Night, Whose Eyes Brightly-Glow
Sitting On A Limb or The School-Bus Below ...
... I Know What I Know
(Acts 26: 24, 25)
( ... You're going mad - MoonBee! Mad!
Great Learning is 'driving' you mad! )
yuk-yuk - he-he-he ....
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/20/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
(Part 4 of "Nobody Likes A Know-It-All" is the serious side of addressing "Knowledge ... ... So, this free verse is really about Godly Knowledge, Biblical Learning and Spiritual Intelligence ... (first) ... and then about education and different areas of study in an academic way. So when reading this write - that should be kept in mind, to get the most out of it ... MoonBee
I fell hard for this movie when it first came out man. Each time I watch it, something new is revealed to me.
1. Don’t get Lazy with Love.
It’s interesting to note that most of us are often referred to as someone who is smart, funny and charming in the beginning of our relationship with that special someone that we have come to deeply, madly & truly love.
Then, we get Lazy.
We stop being smart. We get stupid.
Our humor or sense of humor comes to a dead-end.
We don’t try anymore. We get bored. We become boring.
This is how most relationships come to an end. Because we have deliberately made the choice to stop loving. Ourselves. And our partners. But what would happen if we kept on loving ourselves & our partners? What if we got smarter, funnier & more charming each & everyday of our lives? If you must be lazy, be lazy in it’s purest form: being halfway asleep on the couch with your lover.
2. Don’t get Crazy with love.
If you have ‘lost your mind’ you are no longer loving. You are lusting & obsessing. True love is all about ‘using your mind’ rather than ‘losing your mind’. It requires you to be not only sane but deeply profound. True love will enable & equip you to be patient & persevere. It will also empower you to use every “wrinkle” in your mind to create. True love does not destroy. True love never destroys relationships. It builds & edifies them.
3. Don’t get Stupid with love.
A person ‘in true love’ is not stupid. Even if you were, you will do just about everything to hide your stupidity. You’ll get smarter & wiser. You’ll go at great lengths to memorize all kinds of poetry, music, and quotes to somehow inspire & deeply touch the person you love. (Note: Not to impress, mesmerize & get in their pants) You know you’ve fallen out of love (and into lust) if you start doing the dumbest things you’ve ever done.
This happened to my friend Chris a few years back in his relationship, and I started noticing how he was changing. A person in true love is always developing him/herself to grow & mature into a wiser lover!
There really is something special about this movie. If you haven’t seen it yet, go to 1channel.ch , type in the movie title, and watch away
It is so hard in this day and age of blurred lines, wrecking balls and falling trees to challenge students to see the right side of things,
The way Jesus made others see.
He who is without sin throws the first stone,
Two people who owe a debt are forgiven
Which one is more grateful?
The one owed the small debt or the large debt?
Side note, math word problems have always baffled me and even though I read through this parable to find the answer, I am still confused, but I showed my work so that counts for something right?
Jesus’ parables are such a great outline on how to present something to this x or z or gf, btw generation.
If we post it on twitter they might just retweet it and believe it.
Btw when you label someone they will begin to act in the way that they have been labeled.
If we aren't getting kids to smell what Dr. O is cooking aka blowing up, then it is our fault.
Jesus was able to take the most difficult people of his day and get them to see what was up!
But you say he had God on his side, so do we*Romans 8:31
But he was the son of God, we are also the children of God* Galatians 3:26-27
Feel free to chime in with excuses; we can post those on twitter too, #lame.
Sure we are going to get played more than FIFA 14 and Flappy Bird.
But it’s like they say in Baseball and softball, it only takes one.
And for us it is that one sheep we are responsible for* Luke 15:1-7
Your sheep may be bigger than others, but the Lord has placed that sheep in your flock for a reason.
We are empowered by a God that split the Red Sea,
Saved people from fire
Had the courage to sacrifice his only Son for our salvation
So grab your canes aka iPads and do better than meeting the black eyed peas halfway.
Go get you a Sheep!!
As we aspire a new day
We believe we are all like you all
And as you experince another day
The consequence will demand a teacher in you all.
As we move on with the time
We retrieve we were once like you all
And as you live every moment
The foregone days will esteem the helm in you all.
As we bask under a bright day
We bawl out on your acts like clowns and buffoons
And you acquit with your innocence
The defiance will mentor the deity in you all.
As we versed the life, you ought to see
We still eke out where we dreaded once
And you address us withal obedience
The honor will armor to face the battle with valiance.
As we read on, we see we are just like you all
We are no teachers, we are also the students
What you experince from each day
Will praise the students a teacher in you all.
To see you the way I do,
When my eyes are closed.
To hold your hand firm and strong,
when my heart is wet with tears.
To see you alive always...
the way you are in my prayers,
to whisper in your ears..
my deepest of fears.
To never to be scared,
of having to be far.
For forever to be sure,
that we will stay the way we are...
To be knowing that in this life,
I'd never have to say goodbye...
To know every morning..
That I'd get to see you smile.
I have a very small wish,
The only 1 in my loving heart,
I want us to always be this way..
I never wish to part.
A farewell finally brings us to this day
The day where you chase your dream
The day where you start your future
The sweetest grumpy girl who we ever met
A person with a million mysteries of her
A lovely teacher who never stopped loving and caring her students
A strong character who never quit from the rigors of life
Be the warrior my dear
Be the person who always believe that fate will bring victory in the end
Be the person who never gave up to pursue the dreams
Believe that you never be alone in this
Our prayers are always the best for you
Chennai will never defeat you easily
America will soon be waiting for you
Everything are going to be just fine
Thank you for this past two years
Thank you for being such an extraordinary person
Thank you for giving us the precious moment amid the school's chaos
Thank you for being the most beautiful part of our live
June 9, 2012
Regards to the farewell of my friend Soman, a female teacher who had to go to Chennai to continue her education. Missed her so much :D
For the Teachers of Newtown, Conn
Though knowledge must be got with smile,
Today for that which I may you to forgive me,
It has brought across your faces such expression of death,
This unholy crime of being innocent, which you try to safe
Those lovely lives during a fraction of seconds have gone.
I therefore now do I praise you,
Sweet teachers, stay: What are you and should be!
Make more of you and rise to the kingdom of knowledge
Or where your valor is done who dares to question it and sit above
Or where I supply into your heart
A little more of weep to seal from the ones
Who already have gone.
- Let’s start from the very beginning!
- Ok, I know, it’s a very good place to start.
- If you want to know how to read
you have to learn the alphabet.
As far as we are not in a race
you can face 26 letters in one phrase.
“The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog”.
Now a dialogue.
You’ll see how new words appear,
I hope everything will be clear.
For example: to admire–admiration,
to inspire–inspiration. Now you, please!
And be at your ease!
- To desire–desiration.
- Oops! My voice whoops!
When you study English
you have to distinguish:
one goose but many geese.
-What about a moose?
Are they meese?
- A lone mouse can transform into…
a whole set of mice,
but it’s impossible for a single house
to become a whole block of hice.
-Ok, a house–houses.
Why not a mouse–mouses?
-A tooth but teeth, a foot but feet.
If I speak of a foot
and you show me your feet.
-And if I give you a boot
would a pair be called beet?
Can I say a root
and in plural form reet?
-Let’s make this question complete!
There are a lot of exceptions
in the language of British nations.
Anyway, the rules are the tools
for learning the language
and together with the exceptions
it's something like a sandwich.
Let’s go on!- said my teacher with a yawn.
A lot of time has already gone,
I am not going to stay here until the dawn.
Let’s take an easy word “ball”!
- Yes, I like to play football.
- Good! Now open the ball!
- What do you mean by that?
I am not a rat so that to cut the ball.
It’s not funny at all.
- You are kidding!
- Oh, no! I am not a kid!
I would like to know where the meaning of that “ball” lead.
- Ok, in that phrase “ball” has the meaning of a party,
but… a bit more arty.
- There are a lot of other English words I can’t understand.
Why do they call all men gentlemen?
Are they all gentle?
This word looks so fundamental.
If a man is rude can I say a rudeman?
I wouldn’t like to look like a clown
That’s why I ask you again:
Will the difference remain
if I say: shut up or shut down?
I would also like to know:
If we say a teacher taught
why can’t we say: a preacher praught?
If people from Poland are called “Poles”
Why aren’t people from Holland called “Holes”
- Ok, I think our time has gone
and the whole picture of English was not yet drawn.
See you later!
And I hope our next lesson will be greater.
* “You have to be both an angel and a devil in order to create peace”
I am a little kid walking up the dark cobbled streets of France, chatting among close
friends. Shouting, laughing, and wondering, what wonderful mixtures of food are our
mothers conjuring in the kitchen. As we continue to walk up the hill, and past by the smiling
couples, lively children’s, and joyous merchants. We hear a deafening key being hit over
and over again from the distance. The keys to this sound linger in our ears, as its notes fall
to the ground like beggars change. Then again from the distance comes a crowd full of
twisted faces melded between agony and sadness, children’s that were once lively are now
crying . The once joyous merchants now scatter among the chaos leaving there stands and
their life’s work behind them. Being the kids that we are, we run with the fray then comes, a
blinding flash followed with a rumble; and I stumble to the floor. When I came back to my
senses, I was lying amongst a valley of debris, and a valley of corpses. The hill that was
once dusk, was now a crimson red, and being the kid that I was I though the hill was simply
crying in pain. Realizing this as hell on earth, I called for my friends but not an answer came
back to reassure me. “Guy, Guy what does this story have to do with achieving your
accomplishments” said my teacher irritatingly. I took my time to answer and while I was
waiting I looked around the classroom, and I saw some kids laughing, and others looking at
me as if I were crazy. Then I said “is war really that funny that you would laugh, is it that
funny when a child dies that you laugh, is war really that fun that you would go and make a
widow out of a wife”. There smiled dropped from their faces, and a decent few said “no”.
Realizing what I was talking about my teacher asked me “how will one man alone achieve
peace, let alone someone like you, can you tell me, enlighten me guy”. I looked at him
straight in the eye, smiled and said ………………..
In seeking to move forward,
Our world has lost life’s meaning,
So many of my day’s worries,
Spent over bits of paper,
Or the moods and whims of others.
The important parts of life,
The things which are true to my inner spirit,
Are pushed further and further away,
Whilst the trials to fit in to the crushing expectations of my job and world,
Every now and then I see a glimpse,
I remember why I am here,
I see the journey that is vital to my soul,
But it so often drifts away,
And gets lost in the monotony and stress of my daily routine.
And so I ask myself- what does my life mean and why am I alive?
I must answer truthfully,
For then my life will finally take shape,
And I will be back on track,
Experiencing each day with wonder and freedom.
In seeking to grow up and fit in to the world,
I fear I have taken the wrong direction and lost my way,
I must find my true path,
Or regret it forever.
Dear current (and future) teachers
I would like to point something out
It's a little habit that I see
most of you have
I'm not saying you underestimate me
I'm not saying I'm really smart
And by no means am I
But most of you do this thing,
that I find quite annoying
you repeat and point out
everything they say
everything I've already
everything that I do.
I'm not saying I'm perfect,
because I know nobody is,
but would you please quit telling me
someone else's mistakes
and just point out mine?
Remember third grade,
When the raciest book the teacher
read out loud
Was Wayside School Stories?
Maybe because my mom was all for
But hearing those books was a
weird guilty pleasure.
It was my first introduction to the
The Gothic novel of children's
Sometimes people disappeared into
But more importantly, Bebe Gunn
was having troubles with her
Today, I remembered the ice
The teacher at Wayside made ice
cream flavored like each student,
To teach the importance of diversity
And I remembered this today
because I found your shirt,
Kicked under the stage, and I
picked it up.
As I shook off leaves and other
debris of neglect,
Your shirt let forth your essence to
tease my nose.
And later I thought about how over
I would have probably grown
immune to that smell.
I thought about how this must be a
computing error in the universe,
If you truly don't notice that primal
Like you don't seem to notice your
But at that moment, I had to walk
Before my tear ducts could become
inundated with particles of scent,
Because the craving I got was more
than a chocolate-coated addiction.
I am suprisingly literal here, but
You would be my favorite flavor of
Only then you would still be here to
"Temper your enthusiasm,"
"The extremes of your reactions;
You should have
A more conventional frame
On which to hang
"Don't push people,"
"You make yourself vulnerable."
She told me not to rhapsodise,
That it would be difficult,
For me to harness my dynamism.
The tone of my work,
Is often a little dubious.
That there was something wrong.
That I'm hiding
Dark secret from the world.
"Temper your enthusiasm,"
"The extremes of your reactions;
You should have
A more conventional frame
On which to hang
("Some Sad Dark Secret" was inspired by words once spoken to me by a former tutor and mentor of mine in around 1982 or '83. And my own perhaps partly fantastical reflections on them.)
I go outside, smell the air.
I know I am free.
From school, from teachers.
I know I am free.
But that awkward moment were you see a teacher outside of school.
I maybe am free.
We talk for whole train ride.
I maybe am free.
But then that teacher leaves, and I arrive to my stop.
I know I am free.
When I arrive home, I hear my family.
I don't feel free?
I want to be an Actor, My shyness has hampered me thus far
My Credentials however are worth looking at a STAR
To this day I remember my lines in the 6th Grade Play “King Lear”
“LOOK!! There He is now." For those of YOU who are not Actors
Please; It’s not as easy as it Looks, for instance it took nine weeks
To Perfect the Emotion it took to convey this simple Line
Take One : “LOOK THERE!! He is now, teacher ask What is Now
Take Two : “LOOK!! There he is, NOW, teacher “Is the Castle in shambles”
Take Three : look there HE IS now, teacher “What was he before
So when the day comes that a Great Producer picks up that 6th grade Program
I will speak my POETRY to YOU on the Silver Screen, no, Autographs until
He sits alone; they think he is dull,
In the last desk of the class; he paints
a world of his own-a teacher enters!
His eyes brighten once again, a sheer
hope of determination brings back the
glee as the pupils change their color
from the former noisy bees to submissive
sloths. Once again he hopes the teacher
will look at him, will advise or appreciate
like he glorifies the star pupils.
The teacher stands, there is a bewildering
silence, he turns the pages as he moves
forward, waves of joy arise in the heart
of the urchin for he has waited all these
days to be loved, to be cared and granted
like the other pupils. A question is posed
and the clever ones shout in a hundred
thunders, amidst which his answer is lost
just like the ripples which arise and vanish
quickly. The bell rings and without a single
glimpse into the eyes of the urchin, the
teacher goes out! !
Till that day I was
living in a
When I use to see
things, as per my
notions and whims
But one day a
teacher taught me a
teacher would not
What a great thing
he was diffusing
To all those who
His lecture on
“Seeing Things from
the other one’s
When I practiced
that teaching and
The new way of
seeing things in my
I found a great
change in my way of
The results were
And pleasure and
happiness began to
grow slowly in life
What a beautiful Art
of Living and Loving
That teacher told me
with a concluding
To practice his
methods, to test its
At least for few
days, in the
The most important
thing he asked me do
Was to practice
in the other man’s
The day I started
thinking from that
Imagining the place,
where the other one
I felt many of my
And gradually I
began to have better
What a small thing
to practice and what
a gain, which
Gave a U turn to the
way of my living and
In harmony with
believing in God
And in our believes,
faiths and Loving
I thanked the
teacher for all his
And the practical
demo* he gave to
prove his teaching
On the Art of Living
Although he was
trying to explain
“Seeing Things from
other one’s Angle”
only, but I found it
An ‘Art of Living
• the Demonstration
part ( which is game
play ) can be
concluded in the
next part of this
Poem, if the poem is
found worth while.
The ear testing people in trouble,
On their desks making hearing evaluations,
With the aid of many instruments,
Inviting sound waves one after one like Tsunami-
Giving their time hurry,
Taking our's free,
Without learning the know how,
From the flying Mosquitos-
The top hearing evaluators on the job,
In seconds and free of charge,
In regular intervals of changing monsoons!
dear Mr. maniacally-raving-mad-
if a kid in your school has a gun &
your teacher has a gun,
and the teacher fires first,
or the kid fires first &
somebody misses &
hits other kids
promoting a domino effect of a
will you think then
that the idea of
putting guns in the hands of
might’ve been the
wrong mother****ing way to go?
not quite with me yet, asshole?
how about if your armed teacher has
a problem with an unarmed student one day &
s/he got dumped the night before,
came in drunk, may have a temper problem
that slid under the radar…or maybe,
just maybe, they are ****ing nutbags
now that teacher pulls the trigger,
because you know what…being a teacher
wasn’t really what they had wanted to be
all their lives…instead,
they just wanted to make a mark,
now is the time which they’ve chosen to do so…
will you regret making South Dakota the first
****ing hick state,
to arm their teaching staff
(that is, ON THE BOOKS…
yes, we know that there are dumb hick
schools out there that have already allowed
cowboy teachers to strut their stuff off the
books with guns…)?
still not with me, ****stick?
let’s put it in a little equation for you…
kid with a gun + a teacher with a gun
DOES NOT EQUAL
LESS GUNS IN SCHOOLS.
kid with a gun + a teacher with a gun
DOES NOT EQUAL
LESS VIOLENCE IN SCHOOLS.
teacher with a gun + students without guns
ALL THE MORE REASON FOR A KID TO
BRING A GUN TO SCHOOL.
after watching films like “The Killing Fields,”
“Apocalypse Now,” “Full Metal Jacket” &
beginning to think long and hard about what
his country had really been doing in Vietnam, Cambodia & Laos,
this high school senior refuses in early morning
to stand up & say
The Pledge of Allegiance
to the flag hanging from the corner of the wall,
where all his classmates, holding their hands over their hearts
mutter along the words that they have repeated
day in & day out,
since they can remember---
his homeroom teacher takes him aside when the rest sit down &
he is told that he needs to say the pledge just like the rest of the kids,
but he sits there staring up at the teacher with
fierce eyes that the teacher sees other classmates already being inspired by at that very moment,
and he utters simply,
“i’m not pledging any longer.”
Purple bouquet in her arms.
She came to an abrupt stop.
Lurking under a shadow of a dove.
Like a mother lion protecting its cubs.
Daddy, this is me.
I’m fulfilled like you told me, I will.
She heard a soft whisper.
Serenading her whole being.
Like a soft breeze.
Mama, this is me.
You said it will be so.
She exhaled deeply.
The beginning of an era.
A lifespan of a caterpillar.
Mama, daddy; this is me.
Thank you for making me the woman I am.
She breathed out her heart.
He breathed out his soul.
Two lives, one soul.
A penguin’s pebble.
Mama, daddy, this is me.
I know it is so.
A purple promise embezzled in her destiny.
Mama, thank you.
I’m strong because of you.
Daddy, thank you
I have blossomed to be a queen.
A princess’s dream.
I’m almost there.
© Herzel Poshiwa
Homage to a Third Grade Teacher
I see it now
the cork with holes
the wood around it splintered,
but it was our window to the world.
On it he would display
a thousand hoarded pictures
from calendars long outdated,
but in his mind; useful still.
I see his window opening to those faraway places
meant to be visited,
longing for my feet
to hit their pavement.
The letters he had cut from
nine inch by twelve inch
stock construction paper
was a treasure of promises.
If only I could get my hands
on such gold and rubies, pearls and emeralds;
such treasures I could pirate
to my place of sanctuary.
And then it happened;
the opportunity I had longed for:
the very window to my soul
would be displayed for ungrateful eyes to see.
While others played and messed themselves
with mud and clinging dirt
I messed with greens and red
and opened the window to a whole new world.
A splash of red right there
and yellow, green and brown;
the colors of an autumn world
that I could only hope someday to see for myself.
There is one I remember still;
a solitary tree
standing as a guard
on that sunlit hill.
I placed it high in the top right corner of up and down
for all to see
but gently it was removed
to teach a lesson in the clout of color.
“Red,” he said, with intensity of truth;
“Red is the color that will not be overlooked.
Red always asks to be in the center,
in the spotlight of its world.”
And so he moved it to the center stage;
one red autumn tree
set against a bright blue sky
shouting to the cosmos: “Look at me!”
I’ll not forget that lesson
taught on that old cork window;
red is a favorite hue
because it commands our eyes.
in matters spiritual,
the heart, not the mind,
is the teacher without equal.
if we are to hold on to something
that we can clearly understand,
something that is meaningful,
it must be to the inexplainable;
for pure tranquility of the soul
unknown to the doubtful mind,
and for joyful hope only known
to believing hearts, lean on faith;
this, the logical, scientific mind
rejects as mere emotionalism,
but the heart that truly knows
can hardly do so, in fact, cannot;
in matters spiritual,
the heart, not the mind,
is the teacher without equal.