Poem: I Survived Kindergarten


Today I was a sub

and lived to tell the tale

Teaching little kiddies

Some were happy, some sad

and some who simply wailed

Since they are only five or six

new are they to this game

Some are quiet as a mouse

but some simply have no shame

Their fingers end up places

where they really shouldn’t be

sadly in holes in faces

plugging noses running free

For their tiny little sizes

their voices are quite big

And they never just stand still

instead they do a jig

Whenever asked to get in line

please don’t ask them to chill!

But the hugs they give are priceless

I couldn’t ask for more

It’s a joy to go to work

because it’s not a chore

Even though I’m sixty-two

it’s like I’m back in time

thanks to my classroom

I feel like I’m in my prime!!

 

 

 

 

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Post Irma


All is well and internet is just back up. We really dodged a bullet. Our area for the most part was not hit badly so we were very blessed. The power came back quickly and neighbors all helped each other. For now I will simply share some photos. The are during and after. It’s amazing how after everything just is completely back to normal. It’s like nothing happened….but it totally did!

Poem: The Conversation


I speak to my cat

smelling of sweat

sitting crossed legged

in front of visiting deities

Their far-fetched faiths

diverge and dance before me

(or so I believe)

My cat talks back

In perfect speak

her travels shared

details flicked and flashing to and fro

and finer points dug home

I listen

in trance-like meditation

swooning to the tinkling tales

spun secretly

this tittering yarn

As I begin to follow

down cobble stone alleys

on padded paws

my tentative whiskers gracing my face

as we stalk our prey

Upon our return

My cat reassures me

our jaunt was judicious

So with a swish of her tail

and squint of her eyes

She turns

marching softly away

Leaving me

dismissed

Poem Art: The Sentry


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Years of giving

torn from the skinned Birch

to carry others

across rushing waters

while naked the Tree remains

rooted

watching

as the world walks away

Not listening

to the endless clawing on Jesus arms

the sucking tendrils

that have grown up

twisting themselves around

the age-old rings of Her heart

Move on! Move on!

whispering through the thousand hands

waving goodbyes to those

that left her standing

still

and siphoning life from

dirty earth thrown down

around Her

Immobile

a sentry seasoned with sight

the beacon to set others

on their way

But forever bound and grounded

in the place she chose

to be born

 

 

 

Poem: Strictly Platonic


Slices

through a multi-layered

marbled veined cake

Ribbons of color and texture

lathered with sickly sweet

frosting and fake flowers

dripping down the sides

They all come

to sweeten the palate

and give sugar rushes

in brain bursting fury

Different sized portions

doled out in snippets

or heart attack plate fulls

all sure to crash

sooner or later

 

 

Poem: The Street Lamp


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The street lamp

seeps

through the jail slit blinds

while I lay wide-eyed

remembering

trying to sleep

It lights my thoughts

the moment when you

got on your knees and begged me to stay

when I played the now dead song:

“I Will Always Love You”

(which wasn’t true)

Laying on the lamp-lit bed

even with lavender soaked eye-pads

I cannot escape

the path of memories

illumination