Archive for August, 2014

teacher stuff i learned @ school by scot young

Posted in Scot Young with tags on August 8, 2014 by Scot

all children are a gift from god
all children can learn given a chance
even the so called bad parents
want the best for their child & some teachers think they are god
because they walked across a stage
but college degrees have nothing to do with
supreme beings

all children in kindergarten
have a natural curiosity to learn
& little by little we make
them color inside the lines
paint the sky blue,
the grass green
when maybe on their block
it isn’t
eventually we mold them
i learned that the k12 system can suck
that innocent curiosity
the willingness to please
right out of their bones
right out of their soul
until not much is left but
walk on this line to the
caferteria

i learned along the way
that caring is absolutely
the most essential
the most important characteristic
a teacher can possess
and that trait will be remembered
long after the facts
long after the formulas
have been forgotten

that teachers concerned
with how much they make
will never know the child
who cuts to relieve the pain
will never understand the who
what when where or why
of the abused
and if they abandon the lecture
and listen
they just might
make a difference
they just might
be the difference

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pete seeger sings to the moonlight by John Dorsey

Posted in John Dorsey with tags on August 8, 2014 by Scot

he says, love is protest, why carry
a torch for death?

why count the scars
we keep in silence

attaching their limbs to broken words
in place of a melody?

each death is a different song
waiting for the skin
to be reborn

waiting for the night
to rename itself
with our blood

FOR THE PEOPLE ON THE MOUNTAIN by A.D. Winans

Posted in A.D. Winans with tags on August 8, 2014 by Scot

lift your spirit as high
as the mercy airplanes
dropping food and water
to the 40,000 Iraqui
men women and children
seeking reguge from yet
another religioius sect
bent on genocide
in the name of their
invisible God

put your heart where
your words are
all this killing in the name of God
be it Christian, Muslim
or somewhere in between

Buddha’s crossed legs won’t stop it
the Pope can’t stop it
the Koran can’t stop it

the evil inside man’s heart
began with the caveman
and waits the resurrection
hidden in a secret silo
with its missiles pointed
at God

Elegy for a Summer Evening, 1972 by Ben Rasnic

Posted in Ben Rasnic with tags on August 8, 2014 by Scot

It was his custom to soak in the summer evening air
reclining on the front porch sipping Old Crow & Coca-cola.
Being the only son still living at home…
and feeling sorry for him as I always did,
I felt obligated to pull up a chair and join him,
privately slipping a thin sliver
of windowpane acid beneath my tongue .

Though strangers, the two of us bonded
through the slow passage of time
with the steady flow of rot gut whiskey
steadily eclipsing a steel perception
like a black cloud
and the windowpane opening and closing
in my mind like the wink of a blind horse
just in time to notice his features meld
into the iconic image that graced the label
of his prized amber glass vessel
now shattered
across the concrete porch floor
like a carnival mirror.

I lovingly gathered up the pieces
and placed them on the mantel
above the fireplace.