being here with us…
When children laugh and play they learn
Moms and dads do show concern
When Little One doesn’t take their turn.
Don’t worry, Dad. Don’t worry, Mom
Even if they’re on their bum
Those brains of theirs still do run
They will get there because we care:)
A Rude awakening
Begrudgingly- As the acrid odor of your forbidden poisonous death stick wafts into my sleeping nostrils.
(Do you know how much you stink?)
(Of course you don’t. I haven’t told you.)
I gotta say, what’s very, VERY BAD for education in general, is very lucrative for supply teachers! – 87 unfilled elementary jobs in HWDSB on Friday… If nobody wants to come teach at your school, maybe you need to do something differently…
I feel bad for Liette and Steve… no wonder they are no longer involved; I’d run too:) (I have no idea the story there, but, “Thank you for what you do, you two!”
No phone support for the vital service that hooks schools up with their support staff… Schools that are not getting these positions filled are probably noticing how vital we, the occasional teachers, really are in the smooth running of schools (a little tootin’ of thy own horn, every now and again, is healthy! – Do it!)
A Spring Time Tanka - attempt
Hello there, Robin.
I see you as you do strut,
Sashaying to and fro;
Cheeping words full of wisdom
(If we’d listen anyway).
Inspired by Day of Pink, Apr. 10…
You hurt me.
Who hurts you?
You call me names.
What do you get called?
You mock and jeer and tease and torture.
What is your life like?
To Conquer a Beast
To conquer a beast
before it completely destroys all access to oneself is key:
Study and understand the wild thing inside.
Then tame it. ( of course it will resist with violent power )
To become its handler,
instead of its prey,
You will need a lifeline,
and a pencil ( for stabbing and erasing all signs of a beastly non-existence )
Gotta take control of the ferocious beast,
Bucking and contorting within
The savage beast fights and attacks for survival ( it is so very strong )
To the pits of hell
you will struggle
Alone, ultimately, so alone.
Can I ever truly leash and muzzle and tame the unruly animal within?
I will reduce the monster
to a speck of nothing ( a paramour to the devil, once strong, has fallen )
I am free…
Perched upon my stool, at the Local Watering Hole, Contemplating the Mystery of Life, on an Average, Normally Wet Afternoon, in the Middle of Never…
Everything is uncertain
Except the weather – rain,
With a chance of more rain
Then maybe a monsoon
or a typhoon
thrown in for good measure in the afternoon
And curry – makes poop
It’s practically guaranteed!
And death – everybody does it, you know
(That’s a certainty you can count on).
Rain, curry poop and death are the only things I’m sure of.
(A poem from before, take two.)