Happy Snow:

falling

falling

falling

down.

You must remember

"I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." - Marilyn Monroe

"I could not, at any age, be content to take my place by the fireside and simply look on. Life was meant to be lived. Curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life." - Eleanor Roosevelt

For you

I think maybe it's not life itself you become tired of, but the life you find yourself leading. You need not to give in so easily. Stand up and prove that you are as strong as you want everyone to believe. Being strong doesn't mean you do everything right or make it through. It means you try.

You have it in you to try. What value is there in a life lived any other way? Before you think it, I'm not asking you to live like I want to or like I would. Be you, but be you all the way.

I love you so much, my ukulele, and you worry me a lot. You also, though, inspire me to do so much that I didn't even think of doing. I can't lose you.

I'd give you the world if I didn't think you'd have a better time reaching for it yourself.

-isms from that "obvious, yet anonymous" teacher we know and love

"Y'all live in a society that forces you to be adults; you are supposed to be kids, you're still kids, you're supposed to go play. Heck when I was your age I was lighting fields on fire and throwing snowballs at police officers."


"Open the blinds you vampires."
Relatedly: "Shut up, Edward."




"Teacher:Can you demonstrate this proper 'squatting procedure'?
Student: You're going to show that you can do it?
Teacher: No. You do it and I'll tell you if I could or not."


"Did you listen to that speech yet? It was killer."




"I thought y'all might want to see this cake I might share with you."


Teacher: Did you just say "mohito"?
Student 1: No. Why would I say mohito?
Teacher: I don't know. It could be the new slang for, like, "a moment ago". Like: "When did this happen?" "Mohito"
LATER
Student 2: No, [other, identical teacher] already knows about mohito. They're the same person.
Teacher: *picks up phone* "[other, identical teacher]. Mohito." *puts down phone*

AS told by a student:

he's like:

"did you know vic chesnutt committed suicide"

i was like "yeah, i did..." [tries to get back to work]

teacher: "dont laugh"

"im not laughing"

teacher: "this is not funny"

"i know, im not laughing"

and i wasn't

he starts to walk away

as he goes into the other room "heartless...heartless [wench]"

Student: How are you today?
Teacher: Well. [typical pause] My heart's still beating.


"You don't understand. You always have two pieces of gum at a time. Always."


"This is wack."


Flight of the Conchords.


Referring to A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: "'If you think about things, you can understand them.' Indeed, Stephen."


Teacher: *sighs, shakes head* Youth.
[typical pause]
It's wasted on the young.
Student: I KNEW that was coming.


"Otis bewteen Chesnutt and Waters is like a Fluffernutter sandwich on a spelt and millet multigrain skillet bread. I guess it makes sense....Hell, I don't even get Chesnutt, but I enjoy feeling like my spleen is being torn out of my abdomen in a highly literate and poetic way." -in an email

STUDENT 1: Well, I'm supposed to go to a bar mitzvah but I'm totally ditching that.

TEACHER: Is that a mitzvah in a bar?

STUDENT 2: If she had said bat mitzvah you wouldn't have been able to make that joke.

TEACHER: Yeah, then it'd have been a mitzvah in the Bat Cave.

"Gotta git down."

Has he met his match?

B: "I think my daughter could learn things from you."
K: "You have a daughter?"
B: "She's 11."
K: "Interesting."
B: "Did you just say interesting?"
K: "Yes."
B: "I like you."

B: "You should go on the trampoline with that s'more. It really enhances the whole experience."
K: "If I did that then I'd see it after I ate it."
B: "It's even better the second time around."

J: Dad, I really like Pibb.

B: That's MR. Pibb to you, son.

Falling Round

Do you ever feel like you're in a snow globe? Perhaps on a day like today when the snow swirls past the windows of classrooms making it seem all that more warm inside after the involuntary shiver. Maybe when the flakes blind your windows and beat against the sides of the car as you careen precariously in your warm bubble from place to place. Outside is a toxic place, uninhabitable by humanity. Only mad dashes through the weather can bring you home. The world becomes pockets connected only by modern technology. Your entire world becomes one room, one chair, one window. We huddle to those around us. We are small, insignificant things in the face of the fury of the universe.
That kind of day.

But if we're in a snow globe, who's shaking us? Can they see the glass above that is above them, too? Or are they just as blind, as blinded as the rest of us?

I'm looking through you

Everyone pretends they've grown up, matured and become better people. They haven't.

Remember middle school?

THAT'S how your life is going to be for the rest of your life. For real.

Thank you, depressing realization of the day.

.make it.

I am not content to be merely entertained for the rest of my life. I am, however, content to entertain myself. I plan to have a grand old time. Why bother with anything else?

Conversation?

I wish the gibberish of banging a keyboard was even more eloquent than the understanding that extreme emotion bubbled over so much in that moment that there was no other way to express it

you know what I think?

23:34M

as a generation (I think I'm going to stop generalizing about my generation). A a person so tied to the internet, including e-mail, IM, facebook and even texting, all forums of immediate publication ond conversation by print, we cannot help but over analyze our motive, emotions and meaning.

by the time I get a thought out in words, no matter how fast I type, it's entirely possible that I have moved on or changed my mind

but it's there, then

23:35K

oh god

23:35M

it's recorded

(you are totally free to ignore this...which is kind of my point, actually)

23:35K

no i liked that and agree

23:36M

haha yeah, but now I'm thinking about ignoring online vs. in real conversation

ok. original point. umm

23:38M

it takes so long, there's no understanding of sarcasm or body language or simple emotions, it's all blow up and apart. people can't help but over think everything. with the speed, even punctuation can be lost leaving interpretation so much more up to the reader.

but even more to my point, I'm not sure where i was going with my original point. I'd moved on by the time I got to the end of it.

I thought I'd get over this feeling of lost. Not knowing where to go or what to expect.

Now I expect to feel lost.

It's always going to be like this, isn't it?

I guess I'll have to make my own magic.

My assumptions reveal my prejudices, even if I'm the only one that notices.

"You can get anything you want..."

"You wanna end war and stuff, you gotta sing loud."

-Arlo Guthrie

I'll try not to mess

with your flow, but, oh baby,

oh, I just don't know.

Senryus on the fly:

watching a movie

supposed to help us get "it"

time for a nap now

so it's a haiku?

(what are you trying to say?)

do you understand?

wandering here to

there never stopping for a

breath or a stop.think.

O Inanity,

you are my world, my life;

not sure it's unusual

child laughing in joy?

or is it merely a stage?

IS there any joy?

noise overtaking

all my sensibilities

leaving me behind

Stop.Go.

Trying to block OUT sound. Trying to stop it getting in. Fingers in ears, stopping sound, stopping time, stopping life. No more sirens, no more talking, no more pain. A rushing. Block it out. Keep it out, too. Can see it, see the cells, the fluid, the life rushing, rushing. Pounding through. Life. Can't stop it, can't keep it out. Breathe.

I wanted to

tell you

everything.

But I found

I had

nothingtosay.

Is that ok?

And yet

What a strange way to come to grips with my own mortality:

someone I never met decides NOW is the easy way out.

someone else is still here, if a profile is all that really counts to make a person real

And yet,

I feel the same. A missed opportunity? A blatant self-denial? An affirmation of previous beleifs?

Why should I feel any different? And yet, I don't.

Mine?

My head is full of so many words. SO MANY.

Are any of them really my own?

"Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York..."

-Richard III, William Shakespeare

Forever

"From the first of all time, until time is undone..."

-Celtic Woman

there damn well better be a reason I dream.

Why?

Maybe

because

but

but

but

no

YES.

Sometimes I wonder why I didn't see it sooner

but I have to be here to see it at all.

The Window (SP II)

05/24/08

The people passing by the

window.

Some looking in, most

not.

They come by car or on

foot.

They wander past or walk purposefully

on.

Few enter, but those who do change

everything.

With their very

presence.

A smile, a frown, a

tear.

They all go

by.

SP I

05/24/08

A scattered thought

A whisper of a dream

The day pushes onward

Reaching to its end.

But it doesn’t ever end

Even that which must cease:

life, love

Does not.

This is what I know to be true:

There is no point to life

So why bother, right?

Wrong.

Life is for living,

Not preparing to die.

Life is for living,

For dreaming of sky.

Almost Sonnet II

06/28/08

The moon loves you,

and so I do.

The stars cry with joy to see you,

and so I do.

The very sky above would give the world for you,

but that’s not why I love you.

I love you when you do not smile.

I love you because you cry.

I’ve loved you while I’ve hated you,

though I do not know why.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The world for us is open.

For all the “whys” that cannot fathomed be,

I give you my heart, to break it, feel free.

Always (Part I)

Always spare a tear for what might have been

The silver moonlight across the floor

The golden dreams of all who wake

That gentle knocking at the door

08/28/08

It was one of those days

One of those days that make you write poetry

It rained, of course, but not for long

Not long enough to make it romantic

Not short enough to be trifling

A summer rain

Here and gone again

The whim of the wind

And the announcement went out across

The empty train station

A call for more than just a train

A journey

Of places to be discovered

Battles to be fought

Friends to meet

It may have been an ordinary day

On the surface

But a look at the sky

And the game was up

A day for dreams

Changes

Making things work the way they are

If only met at all

Even ill by moonlight

Something

Anything

happen.

It Will Have Been Forever (Screen Door Slam)

it's three days later

and I can still hear

the screen door slam

waking up to find

you've left me behind

again

and I don't know

whether it's right or

wrong that I don't

know whether

I'll get along

without

you

But it's three days

after I heard the

screen door slam

for the last time.

it's two days later

and I can still

taste the salt from my

tears

starting to say something

no one will hear 'cause

you're not here

and I don't know

if I can find bliss

because I don't know if

I can deal with this

right now

but it's two days

since I knew I'm

gonna get over

you.

Yesterday I was up

all night.

It's gonna be hard

but it'll be all right

without

you.

cause now I've got forever.

Welcome Home

01/10/2009

Beyond the city, there lies the remains of a house. It was an old house. It had resigned itself to ruins long ago and was content in its retirement.

The roof had crumbled, and many of the walls had lost their grip on verticality, but there were trees and sky. Just enough shelter to hide from Hook, and just enough space to command the heavens.

For on any given day this house could hold anywhere within its walls. Bucking ham Palace or Neverland, Narnia, Oz, or even Lowood School.

There was no magic there, at least not as far as anyone could tell. No sightings of fairies, no talking animals. But perhaps that was the point. It wasn’t there unless you saw it.

It called to the young ones, of course, to The Children. Perhaps a reflection of light would lead to investigation, or, following, the wind would bring one to the doorway. They may have never met before, the ones who came. They didn’t need to.

They rarely shared their given names; they each became the role the house asked of them. Edmund, Lucy, Peter, Wendy. They would become whoever was needed that day, even those yet to be named.

The house called to the young, but they aren’t the ones who remember it. That comes later. After they have grown up and moved far away, after they have become “responsible”. That’s when it happens.

Perhaps they will ruin into one another at the party, or see each other across a crowded railway station. The Children find each other once more. They can catch the eye of a stranger and know they have met before. Then they introduce themselves and catch up on life together. They share stories, and find once again the wonder and beauty in the world.

Beyond the city, there lies the remains of a house that on one has ever tried to tear down. And so it sits basking in the sunlight and rainfall and snow cover, waiting. It calls to its Children. And when we are young no longer, it welcomes us home.

Perhaps

I'll never figure it out.

Maybe that's the point.