Springtime

13 Mar

I’m a bit late, but I’m still joining in the Out of Standard Challenge.  The task is to use a clip from comedian Mike Birbiglia as inspiration.  You can check out the clip and other entries at Real Toads.  I’m also sharing for the open link at d’Verse Poets.

candle love reflection

days lengthen
skirts shorten

heat rises
necklines plunge

hickies pop
like daisies

hands grope
teenage thrills

seventh grade
hormones sail

young love
fickle and free

Kids Today

10 Mar

The task at d’Verse Poets today is to write a poem that incorporates a fear or confession.  I have to confess, changing into a general education position hasn’t returned my enthusiasm for teaching.  Maybe it’s the difficult circumstances (I was the third teacher of the year coming in), but I still miss the good old days of teaching.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s better, but I will confess to having a desire to take all my students’ cell phones and throw them out the window.  Honestly.  Without further ado…

“Kids have changed?
Oh, no they haven’t,”
any teacher will tell you.
A changing world has
made their ways,
inattentive and manipulative,
easier to perform.

Papers turned in
all pristine clean,
not a single doodle.
No time to creatively
mar their paper, making
a teacher strain to find
their actual work.

Their phones demanding
undivided attention;
a hand-held world,
on-line and off-task.
Not a single hand-written
note to pass in class;
texting instead.

“Choose your topic,
something that annoys,”
the teacher commands.
Students grab their phones
asking the great god Google
what that might be
because they can’t think.

“Watch the video;
there will be a paper,”
the teacher instructs.
Yet video games steal
their undivided attention;
they will Netflix later
and Snapchat now.

“Be creative and original;
I’m grading your writing,”
the teacher encourages.
Yet papers turned in
copied and pasted from
numerous Internet sources,
not a drop of original work.

“Pay attention
I’m trying to explain,”
the teacher begs.
Students Facebook
throughout the entire day,
blank looks when its
time to begin the task.

“No kids haven’t really changed;
they live in a different world,”
the teacher despairs.
Test scores fall despite
more legislation to succeed.
If only young people were
equipped for technology.

***

I’m also sharing for the open link at Real Toads.

Night Children

9 Mar

The Sunday Challenge at Real Toads is to use the works and messages of Nobel Prize winning poet Wole Soyinka for inspiration.  I had one line of his poem Night that particularly resonated with me, and I’ve used it as the first line of each stanza in my poem.

full moon

When night children haunt the earth,
darkness descends early;
the good folk retreat inside
to the safety of their homes.

When night children haunt the earth,
dark clouds come driving harsh rain;
water floods the low places,
drowning dreams and stealing hope.

When night children haunt the earth,
death arrives beneath dark cloak;
innocent men are slaughtered,
sacrificed to evil souls.

When night children haunt the earth,
danger lurks at each corner
until the good folk stand up,
heralding in morning’s reign.

A Sea of Possibilities

3 Mar

Florida Beach

free floating with the tide
across the wide open seas–
no compass; no chart or map
not even stars to guide

tossed easily to and fro
in the wide open seas–
no oars to steer my path
no progress in my journey

drifting listlessly on the surface
of the dangerous open seas
no port, no safe haven, in sight
drowning in a sea of possibilities

***

Sharing with Real Toads where it’s open link.

The Dangers of Texting

2 Mar

Texting all the time
Distracted driving;
Dangerous on the road
We’ve all heard the stats

Texting while learning
Teachers teaching as
students text messages
to friends across the room

Robbing themselves;
Learning only bits and
pieces between Instagram,
Facebook, and Twitter.

Bright minds twittering
their education away
one hundred and forty
strokes at a time

***

Sharing with Read Toads for Flash 55

Flash 55

4 Jan

Tears falling blurred the words hastily scrawled on the nearly blank page.  She had no idea what else to write, so she simply stared.  Her muse was gone and reality kept kicking her in the teeth.  It was time though.  The desire was there.  She had to force each word, but it was a start.

spider plant 004ew

This is a bit of non-fiction, but it’s a start.  How could I not participate and honor G-Man?  I’m sharing at the Imaginary Garden.

Goat Sisters

6 Jun

A letter to my goatsisters at the prompting of Herotomost for today’s challenge at Real Toads.  I am so excited to be able to travel back to New York this summer to spend more time with my goatsisters.

Dear Goatsisters,

Where would I be
if we hadn’t connected?
A lonely “crazy goat lady”
instead of us three.
Oh, the joy of sharing stories
with those who know
the love and fears that
come with a caprine family.
A goat and a blog here.
A goat and a blog there.
The desire of a goat and a blog
butting us together.
The miles disappear,
sisterhood for real.
Where would I be without you?

Forever goat kisses,
Teresa

 

 

 

We Know

5 Jun

At Real Toads, Fireblossom gave us a list of words from The Myth of You and Me by Leah Stewart to choose from and asked that we use at least three.  I’ve managed to use four from the list.  The challenge at d’Verse Poets today is to reflect on language.  When we use it or when it might have failed us.

Millie Ann Saanen

Millie Ann Saanen

We know
deep within our hearts
a deep mutual love exists.
A secret we share, we two,
just knowing the others’ thoughts.
No language required
to express our needs and fears.
We know.
Some call it crazy talk and say
you can’t communicate with animals,
but Millie and me,
We know.
Choose to listen without ears;
open the mind to possibilities
and it’s easy to hear.
We know.

 

Spring Healing

30 May

She sat on her favorite rock out in the pasture.  Sturdy and silent, it supported her in times of sadness.  After the harsh killing winter, she needed its strength more than ever.  She cried hot tears, watching as they wet the cool surface.  When she had no more tears to shed, she looked around and noticed the beauty of spring surrounding her, as if it had magically arrived during her visit.   She picked up the sketch pad beside her, found her pencil, and began to draw spring, beautiful and renewing, just as it was meant to be.

doodles of springtime
flowers jump from artist’s page
coloring my world

sketchbook

I just love when prompts fit together.  At d’Verse Poets the task was to write a haibun, a combination of prose and poetry.  You can read more about the requirements of the genre at the Meeting the Bar challenge.  Margaret asked us to look at sketchbook poetry for the challenge at Real Toads and shared some of her daughter’s amazing sketches.  I love this combination of poetry, prose and art.

The Curse

28 May

At d’Verse Poets, we were given an extremely challenging list of words from which we were to create a poem.  At Real Toads, the challenge is to write a poem with a curse.  Here’s my combined offering.

pentacle and candle

Under the watchful moon
her persona changes from
mild, meek victim of his
to strong-willed sorceress.
No more hate or hurt from
his hand will she take.
Mistress to him no more;
instead her own messiah.
A glass of blood red wine
raised to toast his ill health;
a pernicious curse to be sure,
subtle at first, barely noticed,
growing in fevered strength.
The strong masterful persona
eroded, shriveled into lunacy.
Silent shadowy figures dancing,
whirling in anticipation,
retreat to the dark corners
waiting, stalking his faintly
luminous soul, approaching
through open doorway,
his warmth fading with
each faltering step.
Shadows descend.
Dragging him
down to the
darkness of
death.

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