Poetry

I can't write poetry unless it is about nature.

Is that bad?  :-/

I need to try to break that habit.

With Fists of the Ocean -reflection-

There was once a time when I thought I had it all figured out.  The graduation, the job, the home, the family, the future. I never considered anything but the most optimistic outcome of the past.  Despite all my faults, my wrongs, and my innocence, it would work.  I would make it work.  I would outlast the change in you.

There was once a time when I would have given myself completely, even if it wasn't presented in return.  The self-sacrifice, the devotion, the unrelenting desire to make you happy.  I couldn't see myself in the looking glass, the man, worn, hollow, and sickened by fate and the inevitability of his actions.  The man who would do anything to make the looking glass shape into the image he longed most for.  I wouldn't see it, the man bending the glass with his melancholy eyes and heavy steps.  I would do it.  I would do it for you.

There was once a time when I could leave you behind.  Left behind.  Alone.  Waiting for something at the window like a dog waiting for his master to return home with food, toys, and love.  I meet that need and pushed beyond the call of duty to build you into something more.  Much more.  Sometimes, I would wonder if you even saw yourself achieving the goals carefully laid before you.  Was it just to appease my exhausted pleas or did you ever really want something more for yourself?  I would look for it.  I would find it for you.

There was once a time when I would light your fires of passion.  The kindling neatly stacked, the logs ready to be devoured, neatly topped with some magical copper flakes.  Yet, day by day, week by week, month by month, and year by year... I began to take on the task of preparing the rite of flames.  My hands became charred, my face dark with soot, my body resisting the ritual I had come to know.  Is this all?  Is this my role?  I would finally come to see.  I would finally stand alone.

But the moon is with me.

The time now is spent in quite reflection under the dark sun.  Am I selfish?  Am I thoughtless?  I am standing at the edge of the cliff over-looking the ocean and raise my fists, the fists of the ocean.  I am restless with worry and spend the night turning own myself to find what it is that I want

Suddenly, it is there, as bright and brilliant as the moon itself above.  We are not alone.

There is a sense of peace and I am free to rest in the tides.

Finale

4.  Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

                                                                                                               -Dalai Lama 

I Like It Rough

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

                                                                                                               -Dalai Lama

Crossroads in the Badlands

dust settles on a sign
                       that groans and whispers:
" non omnis 
                moriar "
                      - Not all of me 
                                        shall die. -

sand dances on chalk stones
                       while a weathering step sounds:

" crede quod habes, 
                            et habes "
                                   - Believe that you have it, 
                                                                      and you do. -


mold on a deathly dry toad
                       cracks and grumbles a thick prose:

" aut viam inveniam 
                             aut faciam "
                                   - I will either find a way 
                                                                      or make one. -

song sparrows, muses of the desert wash, cry out, " Quid, quid faciam? "
                                                                                                                                                          
                                                                - What, what shall I do? -

Classwork - Spelled with a capital A-S-S

You know the feeling... when you just want to die and let everything fall apart around you.  OK... I don't mean it literally.  I mean for school work.  Like, when you have one of those moments where you say to yourself: "I'm done." or "I'll just never be able to accomplish this." Then the teacher comes over to either save the day or watch you melt into a pile of you own sorry ass self who couldn't put it together.

Right about now, I just don't want to to any of this work.  It sucks.  I don't want to do it.  I never wanted to do it.

I have to admit that being with a bunch of 7-8 Graders is pretty entertaining, but there is just way to much going on to enjoy those moments.  It feels like the teachers are just begging me with their twinkling eyes and less-than-believable smiles: "DON'T DO IT.  TURN BACK!  TURN BACK!"

I even had more than one teacher say that to my face.

"Why did you want to become a teacher?"

I don't even know how to answer that anymore.  Does, "Because I need a job to prove I can survive in the real world" count as an answer?

I mean, that's what I thought it was all for.  My father wasn't particularly happy with a few of my major life decisions, so being a teacher would prove to him that I could do it... right?

Well guess what.  Now that I don't have my father's support I feel like a hurricane that's gone too far inland.  The warm-water drive from my father is gone.  The gentle push of "Way to go Dudester!" that lead me up the coast faded away.  The currents of his happiness at the signs of my imminent success at something influential has left me swirling into the landmass known as reality.

And I am losing steam.

They say that student teaching is all about the students.

"Don't worry about us, just plan the lesson according to the student's needs."

Well guess what?  I don't even do what I plan on doing on some days.  Heck, I spend so much of my time worrying that they will do well on these assignments that I forget to even take care of my own needs.

Do you think that being a Youth Director helps any of this?  I'm working 5 days a week to try to educate these kids on the research paper, THEN I have to plan and accommodate my lessons for my youth on the weekends!

Maybe I'm just destined to be a teacher.  That's my hope speaking, right there.  Keyword: Destiny.  It helps to dull the pain when it is something inescapable.  Like death.  We don't think of death 24/7 (or... I hope you don't...) but we all understand that it is a part of life. 

Is being a teacher like death: inevitable?  Can I stand against the currents of the world and try to rebuild the support from my father to blow myself onto the path I want to follow?

Maybe we all need to blow our own storms.  Maybe we all rely too much on others to blow them for us.  The rain sure does feel nicer when you know that it's coming.

But isn't that just pessimism talking?  Rain.  Storms.  Hurricanes.  Death.  All this negative emotion. 

Don't worry.  I'm fully conscience of it.  I am aware that it is taking over my life.  That's why I made a change to the plan.  I went "out-of-bounds" as they say. 

I knew that I needed to make a change or die trying.

And so I did it.  Once a day, every morning, for the next 3 months.

Life seems more promising when you have a routine.

Friday, Friday, Friday... Oh how I love thee...

There are so many great things that happen on Fridays.  It just happens to be the greatest day of the WHOLE WEEK.  It's jsut one of those days where you need to have fun... because Friday and fun boh begin with an F.

In fact, let's make that a CAPITAL F in Fun.

Ok, sometimes there are conditions that might prevent an individual from reaching that capital F on a Friday. These include, but are not limited to:

Car Accidents, Major Surgery, Divorce, Root Canals, Spoiled Lunch, and Weekend Homework.

Even then, some of the items on this list... heck almost ALL of them could have some potential good in them. 

OK... maybe not the homework part.  Unless it is FUN homework.

So now we are at Friday.  The best day of the week.  My mediation is obviously working better than expected (and I didn't even have to get enibriated to enhance the effects!) so let's just keep talking about Friday for as long as I can.

I think that being in school is what truely makes Friday's worth it.  Everything about Friday seems to come from the school system.  I mean, you could always work on the weekend, but you NEVER go to school on a Sunday.  Even Saturday detention doesn't quite count.  That's basiclly for the people who don't want to be in school... or jsut want to be part of the Breakfast Club.

I know there are some people out there who are itching to blurt out: "But...but... I still enjoy my Fridays and I don't go to school!  Why would say that?!"

Let me fill you in on all the perks.

First, being in school is actually a good time.  WHAT?  Did I jsut say that?  Ok, let me clarify.  I'm not saying being in school 24/7 is always the best thing since sliced bread.  I am saying that you kind-of-have-to-be-here-anyways-so-make-the-best-of-it.  Where would you have met all of your friends from school?  Around the neighborhood?  If your neighborhood is anything like mine, there's a bunch of old folks locked in their homes and two toddlers who run around with their heads cut off from 10AM-4PM (on the non-rainy days).

To be continued... back to school...