The skinny old lady,
grey hair twisted into a bun,
leathery skin, artfully wrinkled,
roars around her yard
in her bikini top,
mowing in the rain.
The skinny old lady,
grey hair twisted into a bun,
leathery skin, artfully wrinkled,
roars around her yard
in her bikini top,
mowing in the rain.
Two years later, and it’s the same story! It’s ridiculous how the provincial government is trying to create an environment that foments the exact kind of rebellion we see in Order of the Phoenix.
British Columbia’s Bill 22 shares a number of disturbing similarities with some of the Educational Decrees made by Dolores Umbridge, Hogwart’s Inquisitor. The proclamations in J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix were so absurd that they added a grim humour to the book. Massive disregard for the skills of the staff and the intelligence of students led to militant rebellion. This is natural: free people must oppose tyranny. The Ministry of Magic thought they were being reasonable and improving education. The students and staff knew otherwise. They knew the government was completely out of touch when they claimed to know what was best for the students. When we see how fact is following fiction here in BC, we see what lies ahead of us. Voldemort will be defeated.
A link to the BC Legislature’s Bill 22 “The Education Improvement Act” (Yes, really, that’s what…
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If I loved you more
it would ooze out of my pores
explode from my brain,
sizzle on my skin.
If I loved you more
you would never leave my side
I would wrap around your limbs
palpate your heart in my hands.
I could not love you more
for I am sloshing with love,
full to bursting,
obsessed,
with you.
You wear
every trauma
in the lines of your face,
in your scarred cheek,
and absent teeth.
You wear
each bad decision
in your jaundiced sclera
in the milky irises.
You wear
laughter in the crinkles
around your eyes,
and dignity
in your smile.
Now
I remember
what I wanted to ask.
I wonder if…
this
that
the other.
Right.
I had meant to ask
about that, hadn’t I?
But in the excitement
all the good questions
fell out of my head
leaving a joyful
explosion of
now.
.
.
.
.
.
This could mean anything, because of course it happens all the time, but specifically today, I had 3 questions wander through my brain that I’d meant to ask author Diana Gabaldon in the 90 minutes we were driving from the airport in Kelowna to Salmon Arm for Word on the Lake Writers’ Festival. Yesterday another one floated through. I suspect many more will show up in the weeks to come. Oh well. We’ll just have to have her back! 🙂
Your brown eyes
watch me with an intensity
of adoration that makes my heart glow.
Whenever I come home,
you greet me at the door,
quivering in delight.
You follow me throughout the house
set your head across my knees,
gaze longingly into my eyes.
I scratch your ears and you sigh,
with a satisfaction that trembles
up your spine.
“Such a good boy,” I say,
and your tail thumps
in lazy agreement.
.
Is it better
to write one poem
each day
for 365 days,
or to spend
365 days
writing
one poem?
In light of the imposed strife affecting our education system, I’m thinking maybe I should walk out too. You in?
Not for a moment do I begrudge the teachers or the school district. I mean, seriously, who would trade places?
While I might bemoan my own work day, I wouldn’t consider switching it for the challenges and importance of a class of kindergarten kids. If I were their teacher, it would be all we could do to manage to get our shoes off in time for recess to put them back on time before the bell rang to call everyone back inside. Everyone should have a go at that. Don’t get me started on lunch and the opening of yogourt tubes and granola bars. The fact that I would be mandated to teach the alphabet, the days of the week, the months of the year, the numbers and do it all without a nap…
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