Entry:

You would think that in a place of learning where we teachers are attempting to not only teach our students the value and beauty of a good education, but also the value and beauty of living a life that is ethical and caring towards others, that we wouldn’t have the same problems as other businesses.  Friends of mine that work in corporate offices will often talk about the corrosive habits of their business peers that eat away at their soul: water cooler back-biting gossip, tattle-tailing, superficial niceties that blanket a surreptitious desire to stab you in the back for one’s own ambitious license (you get the idea).  For the most part, we, as teachers, escape some of these normal job-life harshities.  God knows that we don’t have to compete over pay.  For the most part, we all teach in classes that we all love and are best suited for.  In general, we teachers at Hanes like one another.  However, in one spot in particular, I see the ugly head of office life emerge at Hanes Middle School.  It’s in a cold dark place, where only baking soda can long survive.  That place?  The school refrigerator.  That home to many a Wonderful Wednesday leftovers, home to bygone Full Moon treats, and (most commonly) that spot used as the sanctuary for our daily (lunch) bread…or apple.  However, this asylum is often penetrated by hungry perps–who maybe innocently grab our sandwich thinking that it is a left over from Full Moon *even though it is in a brown paper bag with your name on it* or maybe not-so-innocently decide that their hunger is more important than yours.  On those days, when all you’ve been able to think about for the past 3rd and 4th period is the delicious left-over steak that you get to eat in T-minus whatever, and you open the door to see what?  The bag that you thought that you had so stealthily hidden behind the mildly molded yogurt is gone?  *erg*  The only thing that you can do is groan, shut the door, drag your feet back to the cafeteria, and get behind Kate, or Simeon, or Rico.  “Yes,”  you smile.  “I like tater tots.”

Somewhere, someone’s stomach is skipping with your steak.

http://thinkofthe.com/products/lunch_bag.php

You must post by midnight on Monday, the 23rd.

in Just-

spring when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it’s

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far and wee

and bettyanddisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it’s

spring

and

the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles

far

and 

wee

Since it has been discovered, let’s start a little early posting!

Let this become a space where you can post interesting ideas, reflections, photographs that you have placed in your poetry journal (that you don’t mind everyone else seeing)!  This is one of mine:

What do you think they are?

All supporters of the Darfur region in Sudan, please plan on coming out to this event on February 21st!

poetry-reading.pdf

My writing hides in the unwritten words of a troubled adolescent.

My writing hides in yesterday’s leftovers.

My writing hides in the mind of others.

My writing hides in the old, minty toothbrush.

My writing hides in the quick smile of a man who lost a loved one.

My writing hides in a field of cattle that quickens its pace at any hair of a movement.

My writing hides in my wide smiles, always shared, but not always meant.

My writing hides in the pizza crusts of those who do not eat them.

My writing hides in the spoiled milk in the refrigerator.

My writing hides in the music that reminds me of my grandmother.

My writing hides in the white, milky mixture of the soon-to-be pancakes.

My writing hides in the lost pencils in between the drawer and the wall.

My writing hides in the closet: old, forgotten, and smelling of moth balls.

Continue by posting more of your own…

To what degree is identity impacted by environment? Use personal, historical, or literary examples to support your opinion. Response must be at least 10 sentences. Post response here.

1)  Does this poem seem to be a poem about nature?

2) Compare this depiction of nature to Wordsworth’s description of the daffodils.  What are specific differences? (Write at least 10 sentences.)

Cheers!

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
~Mark Strand, “Eating Poetry,” Reasons for Moving, 1968