I am who I am
When I’m by myself
and I close my eyes
I’m flaunting my floppy purple hat,
finding a kindred soul with whom to chat
I’m digging, on my knees
surrounded by lushness and bees
I’m connecting imagination on stage
with life’s realities we all wage
I’m studiously scouring the internet
where next to explore on our planet?
I’ve learned, to me
what is important to be,
and as I gaze
into the mirror,
I am who I am.
Prisms
I remember
taking care of
younger siblings,
in some ways
being alone
in a very
large family.
Younger siblings remember
teaming together,
creating mischief
(and suffering
the consequences).
I hold
both of these
prisms
as truth.
Why did I feel alone?
Why was I
(real or imagined)
excluded?
Was my sense
of responsibility
innate or
imposed by
my parents?
I doubt the prisms
will ever merge into one;
what is important
is to know and be myself.
The prompt for this piece was, “To start, find a text (e.g. a novel) or series of texts (e.g., novel, poem, article) and pull out words, phrases, sentences that stick out to you. Play around with the words. Rearrange them until a thought or theme jumps out at you. Continue until you’ve created a cohesive text.” I took pages from Wood and Garden Notes and thoughts, practical and critical, of a working amateur by Gertrude Jekyll and highlighted them into a “traditional” found poem, without re-arranging the words.
the handsome group,
singular beauty and refinement
through the hollows
remains running,
three or four together
side by side.
when one
became too worn
another was by its side.
planted in the old ways,
waving rivers of bloom
accidents of cloud and sunshine.
much better
where they are planted
in haphazard sprinklings.
100%
I observe
my students are
100% racked
with spring fever.
I wonder whether
they hear a word I say?
I have nonetheless
100% confidence
they take pride
in their work
and won’t
let themselves down.
I have 100% confidence
their showcase
next week
will demonstrate
their fervor,
their desire
to be the best
they can be.
I have 100% confidence
they will melt my heart
with joy,
and sadness
to see them go.
This prompt asked us to roll three “metaphor dice” for inspiration. Mine arrived as “home / midnight / dance.” Here goes.
be home from the dance by midnight
which is to say
only dance with nice boys
drink only water, the
punch might be spiked
the world is scarier after dark
nice girls go home early
dancing is only safe
in the shelter of
an overheated gym
I say
dance like no one is watching
have mace at the ready
look all boys in the eye,
seek their truth
the world is scary
at any time of day
I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong
This topic took my mind in several directions… varieties of cheese, cheese as in cheesy smile, cheese platters/grazing tables, memories of debates about cheese…
Cheese
I love cheese
hard,
soft,
smelly,
dense,
holey,
they all
have their charm.
What, you don’t say!
I am too
indiscriminate,
too lacking in
sophistication?
Maybe I need to
cough and sneeze
stand at ease
enjoy the
evening breeze
or simply watch more
John Cleese.
Regardless,
it would
greatly pain me
to abandon
cheese.
What a Poem Can Do
A poem cannot rewind time
nor can it repair fractures left unmended;
it cannot gloss over what causes us pain.
But, a poem can reveal new perspectives
cause us to inspect further
those things we love… or hate.
A poem can help us
find our breath,
a refreshed rhythm.
A poem offers us
the permission to
bare our soul to others
who share our pain
and our triumphs,
who hold space.
A poem is not a band aid
nor a panacea,
after all, it is but words.
Nonetheless, a poem
crafted honestly
has unmeasurable power.
This poem is derived from a small number of the annotations I have made in Brené Brown’s book Dare to Lead. At EPIClearners, we are doing a close read and conducting vulnerable conversations about how the concepts apply in teaching and learning environments.
get clear:
whose opinions of you
matter?
seek those who love you,
not despite your imperfections,
but because of them.
seek first to understand
then to be understood.
I am going down this path
same as, and with, you.
let us travel together,
build a map
of love, belonging, and joy
together.
Dairy Queen
hot, sticky evening air
sun lingering in the sky
breaking from lassitude
smallest in the stroller
another on his bike
you and i, daughter
chatting about all and nothing
wending the familiar path
to the spot a mile away
where all chose
their favorite
ice cream indulgence,
sat on the curb
to race the drips
to the final lick
the return trek home
as the sun slid to sleep