Let The Games Begin…


And so it begins again. Tomorrow is the first day of school here where I live and I will be working again, but in a more random capacity. I’ve worked there all summer, helping wherever I was needed. It was fun actually: with the halls quiet and peaceful.

But tomorrow they will be filled with the excited (and loud) voices of our returning students and the nervous, tiny Kindergarten kids. Lucky for them we will all be there to help them all handle the first day and rein in their jitters.

There are some new teachers this year too–including a man! Whoop whoop. That place needs a balance of testosterone if you ask me, so it will be interesting to see how the kids feel about him. And there is an older (like me) new long-term sub also, which I am happy to see.

All in all, it will be an interesting year. No more full-time lunchroom duty for me! Hooray!! And I also offered to sub in the classrooms, which could turn out to be a total disaster, but we’ll give it a try. Mostly, I actually enjoy the administrative, boring stuff. It’s funny because the teachers keep telling me I’m a hero for helping them laminate, staple and collate. And I think to myself: from saving lives as a paramedic to saving these teachers… hmmm?

They assure me they would have a heart attack without me. But….

I’m not so sure.

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Poem: Until


Days

where my skin rubs against

the surrounding particles

of the long dead others

and also

silent trapped thoughts

running fingers down

my nakedness

They absorb

into my open pores

and seep into the recesses

those closed in spaces

in between the cells

and shackled together

by this fleshy scarred coat

It chills

and pulls taut

over bones and blood

stretched to breaking

by times passing

This living hull

scratched and worn

Home

until the day

it joins

the earth

 

 

Poem: Which Light?


What started as hard

could be easy in the end

Life is a gamble

where not knowing is a friend

 

Looking back is simple

and seeing all the pain

but to only guess the future

and its crazy moving train

 

Hoping that it goes forward

towards fields of golden light

and the tracks that lay behind

are now distant out of sight

 

Yet still we step upon this ride

without a future sure

and surf the bumps and valleys

through tunnels insecure

 

Then to take this trip

and the curves that may befall

because the only other choice my friend

is to not be here at all…?

Cosmic Birth


She walked into the crystalline night below an inky sky her thoughts following her like giant insects who come out only when old furniture is moved. The apparitions that stalked her, breathing their hot voices close to her ears, were ever present. It was like the dead air sound inside her head when the pressure gets too much; or maybe someone just over the other side was reaching out, trying to say something, but she couldn’t make out the words. A rushing, like the blood in her veins, pushing and pulsing. They follow her, so very near.

Where was she going? And where had she just been? The night air felt like a slap, but it was a sting of stars blasting her awake.  Had she been asleep? Walking through her life, but not conscious. Faces, distorted with mouths that spoke at her, trying to swallow her and eat what she was, would swim out of the darkness, grinning. Often, she would find herself in a place she wouldn’t recognize, naked and unaware how she had gotten there. Just like on this stark night.

The mirrored hall of reality was a twisted place. It’s maze of unending pathways looking back upon itself reflected nothing and everything. Where did she start or end? The mystery of the beginning was unknown. So, she would keep moving because stopping would mean pain. The grace of fluidity kept her whole, in one piece, so she wouldn’t shatter into a million shards and fly off into the universe.

It was understood that this was a lonely place. The voices may speak, but they would never hear.  She would always walk alone on roadways unfamiliar and distant from where she knew she belonged. There would be a mist that would drift in around her and hold her like a baby, clouding the world around her and making the edges soft. But this made others wary of her, because when she stepped out of the fog, she saw with great clarity and knew when the others weren’t true. And this made her different.

So, it kept her walking; away from it all. It kept her separate, even though the voices followed. She kept going forward, step by step. The ghosts floated close by, but the cool, authentic air as she walked kept her present.

And as she walked, her head tilted toward the dotted evening sky. She thought about the stars, planets and the universes. Mostly about eternity. How it all stretches out on and on. It started before her and will go on after she is long gone. And how she is following its call back home.

Poem: Shooting Star


Star shoot beautiful night

Brilliant sky hearts flight

Across the world

Dreams are curled

In lovers beds

With separate dreads

But with the arc

Of light embark

Connect their souls

And fills deep holes

So no matter where

The dark may stare

Magic comes and opens doors

Makes things fly and soar

And when the end is near

I will want you here

To see the star

So far

So far

Poem: Anne


Just like every

teenage girl

hating her mother

adoring her father

(knock knock–run and hide)

confounded by her

changing body

as her clothing shrank

(keep quiet–voices down)

With her big voice

and own ideas

all alone and feeling

unloved

(thump thump–what was that?)

Just a girl

with a yellow star

who said what she felt

(Move that there!)

So the world would

live the truth

(Come with us!)

Forever

Poem: What If Karma Wins?


Even if meditating

in the perfect position

Jasmine blossom blowing by

a sweet silent prayer

Hands folded to that Higher Power

or knees bent

softly in bedside pew

Begging and apologizing

then carefully listening

for the silent reply

Giving up this to make up for that

promises and finger crosses

while sacrifice paves the pitted road

Yet it just seems to go one way

no matter where you stand

Is destiny the conductor

after all

and no choices ours to weave