I had heard about the new cult in town, the gray rabbit express
It was stated that the followers did not show much happiness
They dressed in gray outfits, dresses usually, and rabbit ears
What is your main concern? I asked the sheriff. What are your fears?
I wonder if these girls were abducted, you need to interview them.
at the gate I was turned around by guard dog named Flem.
knew what his name was because he had a sign on his collar, in blue.
I ran from this compound, feeling threatened, ‘tis true.
The girls did not attend public school, but they sometimes came to town.
never alone; their chaperone was close and always gave a frown.
I tried to speak to them a few times, but they ignored me and my voice.
I gave up finally, said the most aggressive interviewer in town, Mrs. Joyce.
I saw four of them on the street one day, walking in a solemn line.
I said good day and asked how they were, none of them said “fine”.
They ignored me as if I had not spoken at all, brainwashed maybe.
Soon joined by another cult chaperone, her lapel said McGee.
I am that kid who grew up in public school
that kid who usually followed most rules.
I am the kid who was bullied by many
had a few friends, but really not any.
I am the one who will shop your Instacart order
and yet ware my feelings on my shoulder.
I am the bus monitor on a special needs bus
I interact with the children so they don't fuss.
I am the woman with a wonderful man
he is the start and finish of what I am.
I am a Princess a Child of Jesus The King
Jesus Christ is Lord of my life and my everything.
I’m a crazy person,
I believe in Jesus,
I bow down on my knees,
And tell Him of my weakness.
I walk by faith,
Not just by sight,
I follow Him everywhere,
Whether by day or by night.
I bring my Bible everywhere,
To church and public school,
I will share the Gospel,
Even if I’m called a fool.
I’m a crazy person,
I talk to Jesus like He’s real,
I bow my head in prayer,
I ask for sustenance before every meal.
I trust in Jesus,
I believe the words in red,
I believe He’s alive,
That He rose up from the dead.
.....Stress prayer in the heart
in the home
in the you -
In the family, the temple, the closet
please do.
Stress prayer for the teacher
the searcher
the nation -
By a Priest and the Rabbi
or Pastor persuasion.
Stress prayer after school
your partner in strife -
Keep prayer and thanksgiving
first in your life.
God’s will is a choice, we’re free to debate -
He determines events: worship God, not the State.
QUESTIONS….
They thought my
dinnertime inquiries
about their days at public school
were interrogations, investigations
pursuant to suspicions of misbehavior,
missing homework, dissatisfaction or
deeply hidden traumas needing parental
intervention
I must have seemed imposing and
invasive, annoyingly aggressive as
I peppered them with questions, ignored
their heavy sighs of resistance, their impatient
rustle of reluctance and refused to accept
their silence as they hid behind their mother
like Black Bear cubs in a forest making sense of
dangerous smells
Unhappy in my marriage
all I wanted was to know them,
understand their thoughts and dreams,
share in every new adventure, in every exploration,
in every damn discovery and in the daily new
delights that only thoughtful kids delivered,
full of bright and shining promises taking flight
toward the future, making me really glad
to love them, making me glad
to be their Dad!
His father was an Aristocrat
His mother a high class whore
And he attended Public School
As had his ancestors before,
Achieved a First at Oxbridge,
Sword of Honour at Sandhurst,
Served in Bosnian with UNFOR
Saw genocide at its very worst.
He resigned his commission
Following his service there
Couldn’t cope with the memories
The sense of guilt and despair.
He dosses on the Streets now
A homeless hulk without a name
Disowned by his family and
Just seen as a bringer of shame.
The people on the streets
Try to avoid his eye,
Toss him the odd coin
As they pass him by.
He nods his head in gratitude
But he’s not really there
As he copes with his demons
Behind his thousand yards stare.
All people see is a vagrant,
An alcoholic and a souse.
He’s in Line for the title and
A seat in the Upper House.
Nobody gives a toss about
The many cases like him.
That’s just the modern world
You either sink or swim.
Come and join the forces
Show that you are willing
To go and serve your country
Accept the Old Queen’s Shilling.
Learn to fight and kill
Sell your service on the cheap
And if you crack and break
You’re out on the scrap heap.
I think they tease their hair
just to look a bit wilder
a little more… “coyote ugly”.
Perhaps a dash of “sports make-up”
under the eyes
to cut down the glare
of the headlights.
They roam the streets
hang out behind dumpsters
(probably smoking, telling coyote jokes”)
wondering why Mom and Dad
moved to the city.
Their den is in the Arboretum
overlooking the Boston skyline.
They go to Public School(s)
dumpster diving….
Covid box lunches.
Soon there will be more
a litter is due.
They may have to move
find a bigger place…
in the city….
good luck with that.
John G. Lawless
©11/20/2021
Boy: When I grow,
I want to be a Leader
Bring positive change,
And cancel the mindset of corruption;
Education shall be my priority,
As the illiteracy rate shall drop.
Girl: When I grow,
Roads connectivity shall be my focus
From interior to city shall be paved,
As citizens shall enjoy the facility of electricity.
The poverty rate shall drop,
People shall live in sincere harmony;
Injustice is not acceptable,
Anyone found guilty with unique evidence,
Shall be imprisoned for ten years.
Boy: When I shall grow,
I want to be a Leader
The motive of "I, me and myself,"
Shall come to an end.
Citizens shall enjoy every milk and honey
We will not even need gunmen on streets,
Switzerland shall be our example,
As Israel shall be our role model in "giving".
Girl: When I grow,
I want to be a Leader
The "Open Door Policy" shall be reborn;
All leaders children shall attend Public school,
As taxes on citizens will decrease.
Poor shall have absolute right!
YOU HATE THE CANDIDATE!
You hate the candidate!
He is a populist demagogue –
dangerous, deranged and despicable!
You did it to yourselves! You developed
a “southern strategy”, reduced your once-proud
neighbors from citizens with a mission to whiny
tapped-out taxpayers, impatient and paranoid,
intransigent and scared! Sure of moral high ground,
you launched your religion into your neighbors’
bedrooms, their genetic histories, their public school
curriculums; made compromise a sin, shut down our
government only to re-open it with calls for a theocratic
state, dragging your god through the fear-funded
excrement of political campaigns, bad radio talk,
planned parenthood vigils, your vaunted Christianity
a department of corrections on a national scale
So, you hate the candidate! A man of anger and intolerance!
But you did it to yourselves, and like the petulant child
whose unforgivable negligence let the fire get out
of hand, you did it to the rest of us too!
Now I enter public school
Where religion is against the rules
You may deface your arms with tattoos
But don't speak of God, that's taboo
Shave your head or color it green
Elect a transgender homecoming queen
Just don't study the Bible; it's obscene
Since progressive values it may demean
Study Marx & Lenin, Malcom X
Start a chat group 'bout kinky sex
Learn that indigenous people are always right
But not Abraham or Moses -- they were white
Thank God school's over for today
Time to leave ~ Go home and pray
I went to a public school near Denver
(pre-Columbine). School then felt more like home
than home, and the real tests were never
on paper. We were Rocky Mountain grown
and no one gave a what we did at school
as long as we showed up and did our best.
Sometimes friendships didn’t make it out of first period
but our sandwiches were always split 3 ways by lunch.
In the off case it wasn’t, we handled it beyond the track field
next to the pop machine, two fists and a bloody nose,
or a handful of tangled apple-scented hair.
We were never confused about how to settle disputes.
Now they’re all anxiety riddled and scared
wondering if their pop machine runs semi-automatic.
Mother Said
My Mother said you need to read
more than Comic books.
I know I’m not the only one.
Some of everything that I read
from my childhood to adult
has been made into movies.
Like Hollywood had nothing better to do
then to follow me around,
every time I Pick up a book.
Someone made a phone call.
What is he reading?
The Avenger’s X-men and Dr. Strange.
My Mother who was an English Major,
said Bobby since you hate English in school,
you'll probably end up being a poet.
But you need to read more than Comic books.
In 1968 I was in the 5th grade
at public school No. 6
when my teacher Mr. Gamble read
the Lord of the Rings to the class.
I surprised my mother
When she caught me reading the Hobbit.
Grow up and I joined the Army,
got sent overseas on hardship tour.
Pulling guard duty, I had a lot time on my hands.
So, I read the books of Tom Clancy.
Hollywood found my reading list.
Hunt for the Red October,
Clear and Present Danger
Patriot Games.
Everything that I read from childhood
to adult has been made into movies.
But I’ve also read books on sensual massage,
And you should know,
they are X-rated movies.
Dressed for comfort and play
worn blue jeans
signature red jackets --
as red as the distinctive tricots
of revolutionary Bastille days --
their slide whistles shrieking
their drums booming defiance
chanting slogans
blocking rush-hour traffic
echoes of 'Madame Guillotine...'
These school-teachers
turned performance artists
torpedo sincere, generous proposals
to further the educational
and vocational prospects of
360,000 public school students
RUN OVER
a child’s mind at play
with the words
“he was run over by a mack truck”
his books flew as he crossed the street
from the public school not far away -
a most busy street.
did i say there is a school there?
kids ne’er slow down -
they keep trucking along.
a huge tire track across a brown grocery bag
the cover of an english book.
a teenager on crutches (years later)
on crutches, on crutches...
how slow does a truck have to go to miss
a small child with books?
a child’s mind at play -
the words had nowhere to go.
i was still learning how to form sentences.
how to express awe and place interjections!
you cross our sleepy village,
near the firehouse,
(they don’t run over children)
and cross the busy busy street
to get to the school.
i rode a bus to Catholic school,
safe -
except for one crazy nun,
who’d run over some.
5/7/2019
In nineteen-fifty-six, my school-time crush
and I loved to exchange sweet notes each day,
when meeting by our lockers 'tween each class,
or walking to my next one on his way.
He was a senior...I, a junior, then;
our notes confirmed to meet right after school,
or plan our dates for coming weekend fun...
each sealed with hearts and kisses...very cool.
You see, this was my first and only crush,
who after all these years...still is the best.
In nineteen-fifty eight, I, then eighteen,
and he, at twenty-one, were married...blessed.
And so, that's all I have to say on this...
when best is found, there is no other bliss.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: School-Time Crush
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
Judged: 03/09/2019
Note:
I attended an all-girl high school,
(first two years), and he, an all-boy
high school (first three years) prior
to our meeting. We had both switched
to public school, unbeknownst to each
other, and that is when we met. So I
believe fate brought us together!
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