Leaves I love the trees but hate the leaves. Each fall the oaks bury us several times over. You see that big pile surrounded by mostly green grass? In a week there will be no green grass; in a day, perhaps, if there’s a wind, there will be no green grass and the process willContinue reading “#62: Leaves”
Tag Archives: poetry
#61: The American English Teacher Makes An Epic Gaffe While Trying To Be Inclusive
He’s teaching a poem during the study of 17th century American literature by Sor Juana Inéz de la Cruz, a brilliant poet, Catholic nun, living in what was then called New Spain, and crafting these beautiful poems about the power of intellect and about surviving a broken heart. He’s teaching one of those poems, yes,Continue reading “#61: The American English Teacher Makes An Epic Gaffe While Trying To Be Inclusive”
#60: The American Teenager Claims The Puritans Were Speaking Old English
The American Teenager Claims The Puritans Were Speaking Old English He wants to say the Puritans were speaking or writing in Old English; a pet peave of mine, this calling by students Old English what is essentially their language, modern English, a language they don’t really know that well after all. But they know evenContinue reading “#60: The American Teenager Claims The Puritans Were Speaking Old English”
#59: Out of the Mouths of Babes
Mom and Dad are not religious, and have not yet taught their boy much about the wide array of stuff people believe in their hearts and homes and churches, but the boy’s starting to catch on with or without their intervention and today it was clear, to Dad anyway, that some intervention will be necessaryContinue reading “#59: Out of the Mouths of Babes”
#58: Classroom Management
A student entered the classroom of my colleague with a rat. Really. The rat was traveling visibly underneath the boy’s clothing, around the stomach and the chest, up and down the sleeves and nestling in the wide birth of his hoodie hood. It made a girl scream. The lesson, whatever it was, is inevitably interrupted.Continue reading “#58: Classroom Management”
#57: This Is Happening
This Is Happening: Today, in my first official act as reverend, I will officiate the wedding of two former students of mine. I have written some words for, rehearsed and supped with these two bright stars from some deep place earlier in my career some 15 years back. And I wonder at this turn ofContinue reading “#57: This Is Happening”
#56: For Seamus Heaney
Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests. I’ll dig with it. from “Digging” by Seamus Heaney For Seamus Heaney Many years ago now I wrote a poem about my father inspired by Seamus Heaney’s “Digging,” the first Heaney poem I ever read. In the same way the poet continues his father’s workContinue reading “#56: For Seamus Heaney”
#55: Ode to the Handyman
I can barely hammer a nail into a piece of wood, but this guy comes over to repair glass, wire things up, lay tile, fix the plumbing, pour pavement, measure twice, cut once, hang finish carpentry and restore old lamp fixtures to their original glory. I never developed these skills or had the inclination toContinue reading “#55: Ode to the Handyman”
#54: The School Year Begins with a Crash of the Hard Drive
The School Year Begins with a Crash of the Hard Drive on which my entire life’s work as a teacher was “saved.” My technology guy, bless him, was able to retrieve nearly every last god-forsaken item– except any kind of organizational feature previously attached. So all perhaps one thousand assorted folders, documents, presentations, audio files,Continue reading “#54: The School Year Begins with a Crash of the Hard Drive”
#53: On the Last Day of Summer Break
On the Last Day of Summer Break I’m home alone, cleaning house, sweeping, dusting, mopping, emptying the trash, doing small errands that have been waiting a long time, like those framed drawings of France that needed hanging, and that boat painting; now they’re up. I put away all the piles of rags and brushes andContinue reading “#53: On the Last Day of Summer Break”
michael jarmer 