First of all let me say, no, I have never been connected to a school shooting. My child does not attend school yet, but he will soon attend public school. My husband is in his 12th year of teaching so when I hear about a school shooting it does affect me and I do worry about a thousand different things and scenarios. I am not going to go into detail about my feelings, and my husband’s feelings are not being spoken of or represented in any way on this blog.
Because I am a teacher’s wife and a mother, I had to write about my feelings on this subject. This poem is about how I personally feel when reporters start talking about the latest school shooting. I wrote this particular poem after a particular shooting, but I am not going to name which one it is because I am posting this poem to connect with others, not to get blog hits or your sympathy. I hate it when people sensationalize sad events to further themselves. I will never do that.
Old Questions in the News
Tears drip down faces
As blood pools on tile floors
The empty halls are silent now
As mothers scream in their homes
Empty arms hurt more
Than full arms ever could
Old questions are asked again
Agony in every syllable
We worry about the tool
Instead of the why
We should be asking
About his access to
Pats on the back
And hugs and kisses
Rather than drugs and guns
Did he ever hear
Good Job or Well Done
Or was he left with the word
Problem ringing in his ears
Was he ever shown
A book of faith
Or just a television
When children are treated
As just another person
In the way and not respected
Why are we then surprised
To see them treat others
The exact same way
This poem by Emily Dickinson is short but so powerful. Pieces like this make me believe I can keep doing short poetry, because it is impactful.
This quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies
And Lads and Girls -
Was laughter and ability and Sighing
And Frocks and Curls.
This Passive Place a Summer’s nimble mansion.
Where Bloom and Bees
Exists an Oriental Circuit
Then cease, like these -
In His Presence
Clicking the mouse is addictive
You would almost swear
The glow of our screens
is filled with serotonin
but nothing compares
to the glow that fills me
when I come before you in prayer
No, nothing soothes me
Like the Holy Spirit nudging me
Steering me in the direction
That will best honor you
No flat screen TV will ever
Calm my raw nerves like You
The chime of a message received
Is nothing like the sound
Of Your voice crossing my soul
Let me always be able to
Unplug, mute and turn off
Anything that would drown You out
When your presence is waiting
To give me strength and peace
Another word for creativity is courage. –George Prince
How courageous have you been this month?
Share in the comments below what you have written during the month of NaHaiWriMo. If it was a small poem just post it, if it was a long blog post put a link in the comments.
Her Grace is all she has -
And that, so least displays -
One Art to recognize, must be,
Another Art, to praise.
Are you a basher or an encourager?
Are you a builder-upper or a breaker-downer?
Do you have honor?
Would you climb into
a tomb to gather your king’s bones?
Would you be strong enough
to speak against criminals?
To say enough is enough,
to draw the line at what gold can buy.
Would you take the time
to honor those so long dead
that they are nearly dust?
Do you have the compassion
to re-wrap a mummy
that most would rather see burnt?
Do you believe in your religion
enough to sneak about in the dark
and hold secret meetings?
To honor tradition when tradition
is all but lost.
Do you have hope burning
inside you so strong
that you would disturb graves
for the sake of another’s afterlife?
Would you carry your dead priest
on your back so that he
might have a better resting place?
So that his dead ancestors
might not be disgraced.
Do you hold honor
in such high regard
that you would get your hands dirty?
And your feet and face too?
Would you honor those
who were not perfect
for the sake of a religion
that no one believes in anymore?
I wrote this in response to finding out why many of the Pharaohs in King’s Valley where all stuck together in one small tomb.
after the Super Bowl
Coke in her cart
a girl from Estonia
a girl from The States
words not written bind them
How do you write about the importance of words that are not written or spoken?
I just want to say I have really enjoyed reading all of the new haiku this month, and I hope you guys have enjoyed it too. I now have plenty of haiku to post for you this year!
The challenge artists face today is whether to be an underground, unheard genius, or to dilute their art for the marketplace. -Cornel West
I definitely feel like this. Do you?
The themes that run through Emily’s poems are epic.
The Truth – is stirless -
Other force – may be presumed to move -
This – then – is best for confidence -
When oldest Cedars swerve -
And Oaks untwist their fists -
And Mountains – feeble – lean -
How excellence a Body, that
Stands without a Bone -
How vigorous a Force
That holds without a Prop -
Truth stays Herself – and every man
That trusts Her – boldly up -
Poetry is what gets lost in translation. -Robert Frost
Since it is National Haiku Writing Month and Valentine’s Day, I thought I would give you two quotes.
From the movie The Village:
Ivy Walker: When we are married, will you dance with me? I find dancing very agreeable. Why can you not say what is in your head?
Lucius Hunt: Why can you not stop saying what is in yours? Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What good is it to tell you, that you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think clearly or do my work properly?
What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety before all others. And yes, I will dance with you on our wedding night.
Yes I am an odd twisted person. This is one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite movies. I know it is a suspense/thriller movie but Ivy and Lucius are one of my favorite love stories. I hope you all have a great Valentine’s Day!
Emily wrote about her faith a lot, sometimes in roundabout ways. Do you write about your faith?
My Faith is larger than the Hills -
So when the Hills decay -
My Faith must take the Purple Wheel
To show the Sun the way -
‘Tis first He steps upon the Vane -
And then – upon the Hill -
And then abroad the World He go
To do his Golden Will -
And if His Yellow feet should miss -
The Bird would not arise -
The Flowers would slumber on their Stems -
No Bells have Paradise -
How dare I, therefore, stint a faith
On which so vast depends -
Lest Firmament should fail for me -
The Rivet in the Bands
Seasonal Affective Disorder
April is green
October is red
December is white
July is the color brown
and my heart follows suit
I know, I know, its National Haiku Writing Month, and here I am posting Tanka on my Haiku poetry blog. Well, if you follow my Twitter feed I post my own haiku, and I retweet the haiku and other micro poetry of other poets. I will also be posting my haiku in status updates on my Facebook page, so make sure to like and follow so that you can see them!!
If it is true that the art of poetry consists in saying important things with the fewest possible words, then haiku has a just place in world literature. -Lucien Stryk
Don’t you agree!?
Emily seemed to absolutely love birds. I think they are okay, but I think she must have loved them.
Most she touched me by her muteness -
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure -
Plea itself – for Charity -
Were a Crumb my whole possession -
Were there famine in the land -
Were it my resource from starving -
Could I such a plea withstand -
Not upon her knee to thank me
Sank this Beggar from the Sky -
But he Crumb partook – departed -
And returned On High -
I supposed – when sudden
Such a Praise began
‘Twas the Winged Beggar -
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor