You don’t even look like
the person I used to know, any more
I don’t know what’s happened.
Did you get taller somehow?
Ah
No.
We don’t do that
when we’re this age.
poem-promise September 29, 2015
Those childish promises
made with fervent belief
prove the power of intention:
Fealty sworn with hooked pinkies
in confident conviction.
poem-flames February 7, 2015
She’s caught between the flames
of inferno and ice
Accusations of blame,
of who’s not playing nice.
She’s caught between the fury
of defeat and aggression,
For neither is sorry
and all leads to depression.
She’s caught between love
crushed between hate
a magician’s dove
that is stuffed then must wait.
She’s caught between threads
stuffed up their sleeves
’til she’s dangling her head
beneath the nearest trees.
poem- silent November 13, 2014
You sit
silently
staring at your lap.
Your face
reflects sorrows
you will not describe.
Silence
is your
only safe
place.
poem-listening October 12, 2014
Last night,
screeching tires,
spinning in the intersection
racing engines roaring up
and down our hill
Luckily no catastrophe
except the community
mailbox.
.
.
(an irony- post 1-666 about local hellions!)
poem-smells like teen spirit June 6, 2014
In response to my comment
she gives me a look
like I am covered with manure
and am suggesting she join me
wallowing in a pig pen.
Nose flared, forehead creased,
like she has scented
something foul, she raises a brow
and turns away with a scowl,
still here in body, but not in spirit,
while her friends chatter and giggle
pleasantly with me.
video- wonderful start to Christmas November 24, 2013
This is absolutely delightful. Florence Baptist Temple in Burlington, Kentucky, USA sure put on a great show for their Singing Christmas Tree! These young men are quite awesome. In honour of the beginning of the Christmas season: Enjoy!
.
poem- lesser children September 21, 2013
For Max
.
They come
each year
the lesser children:
intelligence
lesser
body
lesser
behaviour
lesser
abilities
lesser
esteem
lesser
You look upon each one
and tell him
he is more
she is more
Be the best
because
you are the best!
You say it
and you mean it
and bit by bit
what was lesser
grows
and they believe
they are more
than their weaknesses
they are more
than society’s expectation
they are more
than their labels
They drink your words
lips tightly closed at first
but sip by sip they are filled
until they swim in the belief
that they can
be
their best.
They leave
greater
children
Because you
believe
they are.
Mothers’ tears April 20, 2013
Never,
ever,
make your
mother cry.
Never,
ever,
bring tears
to her eye.
Never,
ever,
force a
melancholy sigh
Never,
ever,
make her
sacrifices lie.
Never,
ever,
make your
mother cry.
Unless,
she’s blessed,
and tears are joy
wept dry.
interviews & changing times September 27, 2012
Today a group of my students were interviewed for an upcoming documentary about living in a small town. It was interesting to hear their feedback after the experience. They wondered if the interviewer was trying too hard to ‘connect with the youth of today’ by “dropping f-bombs in every sentence” and telling them that she and her friends had taken acid in the 90s. They weren’t impressed.
In the staff room the other day, we were commenting about the kids in the smoke pit. At our school, it is an area about eight feet square, marked by cement barricades a couple of feet high off to the side of our entry, just outside of the parking lot (and therefore, presumably not technically ‘on school grounds’). There are maybe a dozen kids who hang out there off and on over the course of the day, though I’ve never seen more than six at any one time. There are around five hundred students at our school. The teachers were discussing how ‘once upon a time’ the smoke pit was packed, and it was full of cool kids. Now, the kids in the smoke pit are the losers, generally looked at with disdain by the other kids.
I can remember teaching in Prince George, where probably a hundred kids stood in minus twenty, being cool, and smoking. Once, they watched a moose wander past, and then get shot by conservation officers. The smoking area was always lively and crowded, murdered moose, not withstanding.
Not these days. It seems that kids are getting the message about healthy living. They smoke less than their parents and grand-parents. Since according to experts in the workshops attended by my ex-social worker spouse, the real ‘gateway drug’ is tobacco, does this decrease of activity at the smoke pit mean kids are less likely to graduate to harder drugs, and therefore less likely to find themselves popping acid by the train tracks like the interviewer, who’d attended this school a decade ago?
I don’t know, but I hope so. I’m really happy they weren’t impressed by her stories and foul language. Whoever says youth are getting worse isn’t keeping their eyes open. Personally, I like what I see.
