Without Your Words

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

without your words
your hippie style of teaching
your gathering in groups
your relentless rule-breaking
your freedom-comes-first
your choice-is-the-best-choice
i wouldn’t be a teacher

and yet

i am trapped under piles of
standardized tests
computerized reading programs
administrative book doctrines
absentee students, parents
and find your words difficult to read

i wish i could capture them from memory
snap up the beauty of the classroom
that my children will never know
in thirteen years of institutionalized “care,”
that i could take your vision of education,
walk it right down to Washington
and make the world the place you promised
me it was capable of being.

Half

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if i could be half of who you are
the world would shine
an untouched wilderness of beauty
that no human could destroy

if i could be half
hearts held in hands would melt
kindness would seep through the air
like a feathery soft summer breeze

half of you
would be the full circle of the moon
lighting our way into the silver circle of dawn
the touch of newness fresh on our skin.

if i could be half of who you are
my nights would rest with seamless sleep
i would see the world for what it could be
never for what it is not.

i would be whole.

April 23

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i will remember
the pain starting at mile thirty-four
the wind at twenty-six
the snow at thirty-nine

i will remember
the endless rolling hills
the cloud-encrusted Pike’s Peak
the socks over my double-gloved fingers.

i will remember
the ninety-eight-degree Kentucky
the mile-long hills
the luxuriant lack of wind.

i will remember
your wide and comfy couch
your set out towel and hot shower
hot chocolate waiting for me.

i will remember
four kids playing cars
three girls dyeing eggs
muscles sore for days.

i will remember this day
thirty-three degrees
sun and snow and wind
everything blowing around in my mind.

Slip

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blood working its way
into every capillary,
fingertips unable to stop
trepidatious air-tapping,
her outlandish words,
my lividity alive
as you walk in
to this simmered-down
moment of fraudulent calm

i stand without words
as you disappear
reappear
and place the thick slip
of her punishment before me

she will walk away,
saunter down the hallway,
continue on with
her outspoken life,
forgetting everything
before she swallows her lunch

but i will hear
only your whispered version
of the truth
the subtle (yet so obvious) gesture
and your strength
slipped in on carbon copied paper
that i can borrow for one day.

Doorbell

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the doorbell
little girl on the other side
requesting three playmates
can be a lifesaver.

Riddle

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you never end
you never begin
you are neither here nor there
you are lost to all touch
yet i feel you everywhere

you are my strength
you are my weakness
you are everything i hate and love
you are the epitome of endlessness
yet i feel you nowhere

you are the spring
you are the fall
you are the song that sings
you are the night and day
yet i feel you sleeplessly

you are behind me
you are in front of me
you make me who i am
you make me who i don’t want to be
yet i will never escape.

Constant Haunt

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first it’s the wind–
a constant haunt
this time as cold as father winter
then it’s the sun–
at ten thousand feet
quite the mean magician
next it’s the rain–
slinking into the camp
on tails of snow

but it’s the circle i’ll remember–
the women’s voices
calling out ideas
like flashes of starlight
overwhelming me as always
reminding me
again and again and again
that just like that
constant haunt of wind
my love for my girls
all of my girls
is embedded here today.

A Better Attitude

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i’m hard-pressed to find
my miles, my mind today,
my ambition to walk down the hall

my muscles are as hard
and weathered
as stones through a storm

it’s only 9:36.
i still have four classes and
a stack of papers choking me

my mind is as scrambled
as the scattered papers
left behind by a class of forty

soon i will change into layers
of cycling clothes, clip in my shoes,
and pedal my way to a better attitude.

Room

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as i move from room to room
always on my feet
i search for subtle differences
my mind tries to meet.

it isn’t quite the set-up
though your structure runs deep
but the small shift in tone
that close to heart i keep.

you see them for their strength
quick as their fragility
and ask that they participate
to the best of their ability.

negativity precedes her movements
though like you she’s here each day
i can’t capture the momentum lost
or the level of my dismay.

if i could stay in one place all day
i would surely choose your room
for all is lost when i enter the hall
and accept my daily dose of doom.

Blue Marker

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in blue marker
print better than mine
are the ordered words
Dry eyes
Quiet voice
Follow Directions

all for the special needs boy
who wants to hold his ribbon
rather than fill out formulas

i sit with the card
in front of my lunch
saying the words to myself
in a mantra that keeps me
from telling them what i really think.