I desperately want to put into words the way I feel
I desperately want to put my arms around the spirits
that surround me
to comfort them
to whisper
I miss you
I love you
I will never forget you
I desperately want to put into words the way I feel
I desperately want to lash out against the evil spirits
that surround me
to hold them accountable
to ask them
why did you do it?
how could you do it?
would you do it again?
I desperately want to put into words the way I feel
I desperately want to understand
the images I've seen
the sounds I've heard
have I grasped the message?
have I learned the lesson?
what do I do now?
I desperately want to put into words the way I feel
there are no words
1.
Challenge –
Find myself.
Don’t let go!
2.
Cherish family.
Treasure friendship.
Give back.
Filed under: Fiction
I recently participated in a short story competition sponsored by NYCMidnight.com. The competition challenged writers to create a short story (max. 2500 words) in 8 days. NYCMidnight assigned the genre and subject. My genre was “Mystery,” the subject, “A Recipe.” Here’s my submission, “Perfection.” (more…)
Filed under: Poetry
Not just a day off
Unexpected, unannounced
A kiss from above!
“Give yourself permission to write.” Sounds simple.
But why do we need permission?
Do we give ourselves permission to breathe?
No. We just do it.
Do we give our hearts permission to beat?
Do our hearts even ask?
Of course not.
We don’t need to give ourselves permission to do our jobs,
We just work.
We don’t need to give ourselves permission
to reach out to our families, our friends,
to do things for them,
to be there for them.
We don’t have to give ourselves permission,
We just love them.
Should we need to give ourselves permission to write,
to sing, to dance, to be our true selves?
We shouldn’t
but we worry,
if we don’t ask permission
what will people think
of us?
People might think we’re selfish,
we’re self-centered,
we’re self-indulgent.
Why don’t we think that it’s o.k. to be “us?”
Nobody ever told us.
Nobody ever encouraged us.
Nobody ever grabbed our hands and said
“Let’s fly!”
Maybe we shouldn’t have to give ourselves permission
to be our true selves
But if we don’t
Maybe we’ll never get the chance.
I’m giving myself permission.
Accepting my 15 years of service award
I thought
“After this much time, why do I still feel like
a brand new teacher?”
And then I realized
“It’s probably because
I am a new teacher,
a new English teacher.”
Reviewing a presentation I wrote
when I was an “experienced” drama teacher,
I thought,
“How nice it must be,
to know what you’re doing.”
And, guess what?
It was nice.
But being new and feeling lost much of the time
has it’s benefits.
Nothing is routine–yet
Nothing is predictable–yet
Every day is new
Every day is an adventure.
Maybe I’ll never be a teenager again.
Maybe I’ll never be 20, or 30, 40, or even 50.
But I feel like I’ve found my fountain of youth.
This is in response to a writing prompt we were given during the Eastern Shore Writing Project’s Winter Writing Retreat at the Beach. We were asked to select 8 words from a list of 20 and create a poem or story. The words I selected are in italics.
We’re in the midst of a Great Recession.
Things are beginning to look up!
No they’re not.
Yes they are.
No they’re not.
Says who?
Says the Tea Party.
We say the country is spiraling into socialism.
This is the United States of America.
You can’t take away our individual power.
We have the right to make our own decisions.
And don’t forget about the 2nd Amendment.
We must be dissidents.
We must refudiate you!
Well we’re the “others.”
And we say you Sarah Palin doppelgangers
with your terrifying, half-baked ideas
are going to destroy the United States of America.
And that’s destroy in 3D –
Demoralize
Devastate
Disintegrate.
We must be dissidents.
We must refudiate you!
WAIT A MINUTE! Just wait a minute!
We don’t know that voice.
The Tea Party, the “others” look around –
furtive, questioning.
YOU KNOW ME! But you’ve forgotten to listen
You’ve forgotten to care.
I’m the people
and I’m tired of all the shouting
sick of all the name calling
disgusted by all the “holier than thou.”
I DEMAND A MORATORIUM!
I’m at Ocean City, MD.
Have I taken a walk on the beach?
No.
I’m at writing retreat.
Have I written anything?
No.
What the hell am I doing here?
Well…
Well?
Maybe I’m just here to learn, to get ideas.
Like what?
Well, I realize I have a form of multiple personality disorder.
There’s the writer me…
Yes?
And the everything else me.
And?
They can’t seem to live together.
So…
Well, maybe someday they’ll learn to coexist and…
Yes?
I’ll finally be a writer.
What else?
I really am an English teacher.
I can think like an English teacher.
I face the same issues as an English teacher.
I care about my students like an English teacher.
And…
I feel passionate about things.
Like?
I don’t want to just observe the life that is passing me by.
I want to walk the walk.
I want to fight the fight.
What are you talking about?
I want to teach my students the importance of sharing opinions,
of taking a stand,
of not tolerating injustice.
I want to teach my students that they can make a difference,
that they must make a difference.
And I want to share my opinions and take a stand,
I will no longer tolerate injustice
I want to make a difference
I want to leave the world a better place.
I’m in Ocean City, MD. Have I taken a walk on the beach?
Not yet. But stay tuned…
I’m at a writing retreat. Have I written anything?
YES!
Filed under: Poetry
1.
The candle burns bright
Your soul lights up the heavens
Your light warms my heart.
2.
A life so precious
You gave so much
to me
to us
to everybody
who knew you
who loved you
You brightened our lives
made us smile
made us laugh
But now you’re gone
a flame on my window sill
A cascade of memories
a series of images
live in my mind
You live in my heart
a flame that will never die
Filed under: Poetry
1.
Memories, tears, smiles
One year anniversary
I miss her so much.
2.
The school year beckons
New students, new challenges
Possibilities.
3.
Swollen and hurting
When will I get up to speed
I’m ready to run.
