OMNISCIENT OMISSION
My poem forcibly removed from the
text book by a higher authority.
Like a deleted scene cut from of a
film reel of an old movie.
To be lost and never found again.
The themes of the anthology no
longer being fully explored or
understood.
How history can repeat itself.
Comparable to the Nazis.
All copies must be destroyed.
The words I spoke
and the words I wrote.
Torn from the pages.
Torn from my hand.
Torn from the student’s minds.
Ironic how English teachers do not
understand the English of my work,
yet they teach the violent tragedies of Shakespeare…
“How shall I murder him, Iago?”
“Romeo must not live.”
“Macbeth does murder sleep."
Now, all that Remains is a page as
blank as closed minds…
“This page is left intentionally blank.”
So what if I die—
not too soon,
not the way I expect,
but suddenly, without warning?
After a quarrel with Mom,
storming out with a burning face,
cursing and blaming—
will heaven still accept me?
Or after my wife is pregnant
with a boy who must learn
how to exist in this edited world—
will he live to see the man I hoped to be?
Or after graduation,
my parents proud,
friends and teachers full of praise—
would my death make their sacrifices wasted?
Or at old age, past eighty-five,
dreams fulfilled,
a happy family and shelves of trophies—
is that the right way to die?
What if I died before five?
No dreams yet, only a small bright face.
The sorrow would belong to family—
would I be a forgotten dream?
Perhaps no death is planned.
It never knocks; it breaks in
and carries the soul away,
whether young, too young, old, or old enough.
Death knows its hour,
decreed by God.
So when a soul leaves the body,
do not cry too long.
Pray that the soul finds peace in the grave
and paradise in the hereafter.
children are a parent's best teacher on coping with life
‘Teachers don’t leave merely because of learners; they leave because of colleagues.’
You hear teachers talk
As you walk in your purpose
The transaction with your colleagues
Reveal the darkness in some of their hearts
They can hurt your heart
They can dim your light
But the truth inside still burns bright
A touch of purpose seems more than gold
This is an era where you need to be bold
So don’t lose hope when they try to darken your life
You can stand through it all!
They can’t stop you
Through all the foolishness
You are still teaching
Every scar is a mark of truth
They try to bury you with their hate
But their fate is sealed
‘The way you treat others is the way you will be treated.’
They told you that you will never rise
Plotting schemes to bring your demise
But you walked through the fire
Knowing that there is a higher purpose
The pain that management ignores is the lesson
Management will gain on themselves later!
They can hurt your heart
They can dim your light
But the truth inside still burns bright
‘Teachers don’t leave merely because of learners; they leave because of colleagues.’
Mark Frank
Copyright 2026
Years have taught me this:
Classrooms grow two seasons.
Some minds bloom.
They tilt toward light,
Ask questions like rivers,
Walk long roads with books for bread,
Keep vigil with the moon
Till knowledge breaks the dark.
They lift their parents’ names,
Spark their peers to motion,
And sit-------quietly........
Where crowns listen.
Others arrive as drought.
They silence bells,
Drink effort dry,
Turn patience into ash.
Lessons knock;
Their doors do not answer.
They learn by weight, not will,
Crushing the fragile courage
Of those who teach,
Leaving hearts bruised,
Hope breathless.
So I ask
Are you seed or stone?
Fire or fog?
An answer to sacrifice
Or the thief of time?
Look back at the hands that paid,
The hours poured like rain.
Look forward.
Choose what kind of season
You will be.
Years have taught me this:
Classrooms grow two seasons.
Some minds bloom.
They tilt toward light,
Ask questions like rivers,
Walk long roads with books for bread,
Keep vigil with the moon
Till knowledge breaks the dark.
They lift their parents’ names,
Spark their peers to motion,
And sit-------quietly........
Where crowns listen.
Others arrive as drought.
They silence bells,
Drink effort dry,
Turn patience into ash.
Lessons knock;
Their doors do not answer.
They learn by weight, not will,
Crushing the fragile courage
Of those who teach,
Leaving hearts bruised,
Hope breathless.
So I ask
Are you seed or stone?
Fire or fog?
An answer to sacrifice
Or the thief of time?
Look back at the hands that paid,
The hours poured like rain.
Look forward.
Choose what kind of season
You will be.
I follow my heart, my intuition
I believe in
Jesus's selflessness for people
the great father of the native American tribes
I believe we are all one with the mountains, trees, sky, earth, wind
I follow my spirit guides who whisper into my ears
I am clairaudient, clairvoyant and clairsentient
My power animals are deer, wolf, turtle, snake
deer reminds me to be even tempered
wolf helps me stand up for myself
turtle shows me a clear path
snake instigates new beginnings
I follow many prophets and teachers, some of this earth
others, in my dream state
my main mantra is that God is Love
I believe we are all here to love each other
that love is the ultimate guide.
Today I’m grateful for all the teachers…
who not only taught me lessons from every book upon their shelf
but found a way to touch my heart
and help me believe in myself.
Sharon
You're more than just a lady
You're selfless, loving, kind
You've molded me with all your heart
You've opened up my mind
You taught me how to hit the notes
You taught me how to sing out loud
You taught me how to stay in rhythm
You taught me how to face the crowd
You're my companion through the stanzas
You made me sing the chorus well
Whenever there's a flat refrain
You are my hope though I can't tell
And when my lonely song fades to die
You are my hope to stay alive
When I'm afraid to cross its bridges
You're always there to be my guide
Oh Sharon, my Sharon
More than a teacher and a friend
Oh sharon, my Sharon
I hope someday we'll meet again
Nurturing minds with hope anew,
Every lesson a guiding light,
Words of wisdom, hearts to pursue.
Yesterday’s challenges fade away,
Eager dreams in the classroom bloom,
Aspiring students lead the way,
Resolute, we step into 2026’s room.
You, AI and me
Are preparing the world to make free
From the obstructions of learning
Building the era of a new beginning!
You, AI and me
Burning old fashioned paper of thee,
Take thou to mobile's touch screening
Demolishing your habit of imagining!
You, AI and me
Being in virtual classrooms with glee,
Stare together human teachers leaving
With their emotions and love preying.
You, AI and me
Are now happy to be carefree;
None is left for scolding,
No one for caring!
Is your school happy to be prevailing?
it was the last day of school in 1963
the teachers were as excited as adults can be
tug of war with a rope could land students in the pond
they wanted to get them all wet, it was a common bond
What if I write you an 8 page sonnet
And when I see you
We talk about the weather
The burdens of bureaucracy, and the colors of fall
You love the orange and I love that the piles of leaves are pillows of the living dead that I plow into
And puddles are piles of recycled tears that I cry into
But I’ll say I love orange
Because neither boys nor teachers like running sentences
Most I know sad but true
define themselves by the work they do
out of the workplace they're as simple
as a bump on a stump dimple on a pimple
drop in a bucket wart on a frog
cog in a wheel or log in a bog
who's to blame... yes parents are the means
for their inherited hopeless poor genes
none of my tutors were teachers as such
and with no innate abilities didn't know much
all of which which amounted to nought
and only regurgitated what they'd been taught
never met one who didn't know it all
when in fact they knew nothing at all
and if I were to look in a book I'd learn the same
but follow the leader ('herd' is the word)
was the name of their game
as for me...
who I am determines what I do
not vice versa end of story
but... how about you?
False Spiritualities
Our age is full of spiritual criminals
“I teach you!” I will show you the way!”
Yes, they will help. Of course. For money
People want to find the way. The way out
Why? People are fearing. Hmm. Future
Yes. But maybe too late, the gate is closed
Then came the help! The spiritual teachers!
“I teach you practices, knowing, meditations!”
They will teach you. Believe them. Lost money
One session is seventy to a hundred pounds
“We need to help you! This is our job! You!”
They are selfless angels! They are the saints!
Then the blind person’s wallet and credit cards open
“You have problems, we fix everything in your life!”
Naive people are victims of pseudo-spiritualist hyenas
There are traditions for help
Old churches, ancient religions
Do not follow the false teachers
Follow the ancient texts, prophets
Crystal clean sciences, theologies
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