Tall Her Eminence stood, calling my name,
My first-grade teacher of notable fame,
Who had taught most all my kin years before,
Now she was summoning me to her court.
She was judge and jury, penalized fast,
Any wrongdoing or mischief in her class,
No one could counsel me in my disgrace,
She was the defense too, for goodness sake.
I had committed a horrendous crime,
Someone’s stomach had felt my fist big time,
Now this tiny hoodlum was called to pay,
For what he had done at recess that day.
As I slowly approached, a friend of mine
Whispered, “say you’re sorrow, might work this time,”
As I stood before the bench for judgement,
I said those words, vowing I would repent.
Reprimanded, I quickly retreated,
Glad my life had be spared and not deleted,
Learned great lesson about grace extended,
On which I routinely contemplated.
Strange how such events look in retrospect,
People like her, I will never forget,
Those who taught me to behave as I ought,
As that first-grade teacher of mine, Miss Mott.
1st Grade With Miss Harvison at Thatcher Elementary
David Walker
I
Miss Harvison’s smile greeted each taker of
An assigned seat of big kids desks
in our very first First Grade class
at Thatcher Elementary
It was early in September after a
Long summer and a
Successful year of half-day kindergarten
The beginning of numbered grades
All in a row
12 years was my first glimpse of forever
II
Miss Harvison was no taller than the
Tallest boys among us
And I was proudly one among them
Gray hair and pale blue eyes
Thin with the skin of an aging angel
She made learning fun
She made us want to come
For another chapter of Dick & Jane
And adding numbers
III
Miss Harvison never married
But by 1960 knew 50 years of children
She was 25 when she first arrived
And had her first 30 in a
Baptism of fire
She knew everyone
by name and by heart
It was the start of a life-long
love affair with teaching and learning
IV
Miss Harvison has always lived in the
Memories of a thousand and a half
Half-pints seated in neat rows
The children who became her students
Her treasures
Her measures of a meaningful life
She told me she was obese,
and that it was a disease.
Uncommon in the eighties,
cruel children would tease.
She said her heart wasn't strong,
and she took medication,
also she might not live long.
To first grade ears this was devastation!
Soon we became friends and she was so much fun!
I wondered why other kids stayed away.
She told me I was her only companion,
and she said she was simply born that way.
Soon I became convinced I'd catch it too.
She was like me, with thicker flesh and bone.
I risked my life for her like good friends do.
I didn't want my friend to die alone.
(True story)
A Reverie of Childhood
A true sacred place and time of innocence where all things
simple, fun, and happy touched deeply my heart and soul.
For things that seemed real at first glance but full of some
surprises later that many of us were too young to understand.
A time where there was an instant camaraderie between and
among us kids as we played games and chased each other.
Finding out in first grade that I was the only “left-handed” kid in
my class, and having to adjust to being “different” from the others.
Developing an uncanny sense and interest in other languages
beyond English when I was already overwhelmed with English.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 7, 2018 (Couplet)
Ive spent half my day getting Billy to talk
The other half stopping him eating the chalk
Tod seems to like wearing large baby grows
While Ellie is pushing some crayons up her nose
Timmy’s packed lunch is just chocolate and juice
Kate’s nose is dripping with something that’s puce
While Marty and Mo fly their make believe brooms
Sounds like they’ve been at the magic mushrooms
I know it’s the first day at school for this bunch
Perhaps they’ll calm down once they’ve all had their lunch
but Barry is only just moving to solids
So why DO we take teachers straight out of college
I am illmatic,
I need a rap medic
I'm magic do not panic
You're lost in my world
You're dumb founded in my word
I picked up your pieces
Patched you likes stitches
Is this my reward
You're ungrateful
Loyalty was a Trojan gift you pose with
I cannot believe this
You worst than the roadside police
Picked you up like an abandoned baby
Is this how to pay me
I was your god everyday you pray to me
I can only say this watch your mouth before you bite your tongue
Let the meat you are eating do not turn to beef
The firewood of this world is too heavy to bear
The worries of this world an everyday nightmare
Like a spear it breaks through my sorrowful heart
As I sit staring at the stars
All through the night
The trees around the compound dancing the dirge of its lonliness
The goats all lying in weakness
The square we gathered now triumphed by grasses
As the mutts take harbour in your houses
The colar bone is broken
The legs have no where to hacken
The famine in my heart so dry like the desert
Even spit in tongue now dessert
Broken men now speak
All because the mighty lies weak
What a load the Carmel cannot carry
Lyes as a bride for me to marry
O my eyes so blind even with lights to see
The bright lights now blind with jealousy
The left over now become companions
As friends now form an enemy battalion
As I lye waiting for death on a stallion
While on its wings she celebrates me a broken champion
TITLE: BED TIME TALES (SOME LIES THE OLD PEOPLE TOLD US).
Bed time stories,bed time stories
When I think of your memories,
They were stories of glory
Drying away tears of misery from the sleepy eyes
What a tale we were told.
O my dear talking tortoise,
Falling from the sky with the beautiful cracks,
O glorious little ant,
The giant elephant conqueror
The hunter,lion and snake,
The friends of treachery tales.
I know of a Mighty warrior
Wat a hero he was
Winning every battle riding on a horse
The great warrior Gandoki,
The proginator of the child man Garba.
The hills of Jack and Jim
We heard leaning on mother's kneels
A lie a lie they told us
The future leaders thing
We all bought the key
We were told it opens the future door
Young minded souls
They lied to us in roles
From our parents to teachers
They each took a mastery turn
Killing our hearts like Brutus did Ceaser
With great care we listened,as we received the key
Education the key was called
Yet the lock still stands today,unbreakable not even by Hudini himself.
Joe
Generous, Loving, Impeccable sense of humor, soft-hearted
Husband of mine.
Lover of Math, Charts, Computers, Games of Chance
Who feels empathy, joy, and passion
Who needs his family, his work, and laughter.
Who gives whatever he has, to the poor, and to us.
Who fears being alone, being left, losing me.
Who would like to see his grandchildren on his birthday weekend,
Resident of My House
Krutsinger
It was the most ferocious time of my life,
I was angry all the time.
Angry at breakfast.
Angry during lunch.
Angry at supper.
I was angry because my teacher had a pact with my mom.
I was to wear a mitt on my left hand for the year at school,
so I could not use that "wrong hand".
In the 50's that's how we "cured" left-handedness.
That was sixty years ago, and I still remember that
ugly gray mitt with the white strings that I could
not take off.
My mother made it, at
Miss Kneefriend's urging.
Miss Kneefriend indeed.
Let me show Miss Kneefriend a knee.
Anger takes away happy.
Anger takes away reason.
Anger takes away everything that makes a kid human.
And I was never a human child in the first place.
I was always ready to kill after first grade.
Because I remember, and I knew myself,
and I liked my left hand, and she was
angry too.
Two little girls stand dream by dream
unaware of what their feelings mean.
The instinct to laugh and play
often leads them inside on a Sunday
where two imaginations see spun
what innocence befits be done.
The long years go by so very slow
they're sure it takes forever to grow.
What should Barbie wear today?
Should she talk to Ken?
and
If they saw each other naked
would it be a sin?
Pretend cooking for little Mama
(her breast is just stuffed socks)
while acting Daddy reads and rocks.
Acting out their sure adult dreams,
they imitate life as it seems –
a wonderful grownup scene.
Innocently they play out future goals,
unaware of time's mark on such roles.