The end is so close
that I can reach out and touch
the hands of the clock,
tick-tocking away this last class.
A day more of typing
the degree will be done.
This stage of the journey complete,
where will I go from here?
poem-moment June 15, 2016
In a moment
everything she thought she’d be
was sliced away.
In a moment
simple expectations yielded
to new arrays.
In a moment
opportunity seized her hand
to her dismay.
In a moment
foolish disappointments
were child’s play.
In a moment
her entire future was pulled
onto a new pathway.
poem-small June 14, 2016
Onyx eyes, black beads,
glisten with wishes,
please take the gift,
toss gently, I’ll retrieve.
It’s only time between us;
you are almost all I’ve known of love,
though you may grieve
for what has been before;
I am now, and while I’m still small,
you’re all I want and need.
With time between us,
your love for me will grow.
poem-calendars June 13, 2016
Day by day,
week by week,
month by month,
year by year,
Perpetual motion
marks our lives,
cradle to grave.
Recto, verso,
each a new start
toward the inevitable,
inexorable,
final page.
poem-see June 12, 2016
See the twisting silence
weaving between them;
pursed lips, downcast eyes,
See their knot tighten
further together, closer apart.
poem-R June 11, 2016
Recursive learning
circles of transformation in
Relation
Rigorous
Reaching to better teaching.
.
.
a little Masters reflection today.
poem-art June 10, 2016
Art is artificial
when our artifacts
leave factual for artless artifice.
Draw artful parts;
articulate the artful into artillery
throbbing through the arteries:
bum, bum, bum.
Be the genuine article,
artisan.
Be
art.
.
.
(Reading John Dewey’s Art as Experience today. My head might explode.)
poem-light June 9, 2016
It is dark here.
We have dug a den,
a hole to hide in.
Safe, secure, one entrance to guard
with snarling, snapping lunges.
Beyond the border we guard,
light illuminates.
We squint at silhouettes,
afraid of what lies behind.
The dark we know,
but light lures.
Shawn L. Bird 