warped boards, rocks-litter-and steel
the dixie train track became our midnight trail
steady now, she's walking toe-to-heel
i put out my hand to the ballerina on a tight-rope rail
her legs laying outstretched
parallel over a concrete ledge
anxious for the approaching train
to awaken the pilgrim she became
frame by frame
each passing car
caught a wordless moon
with her stare
slowly our knees entwine
a quiet hand, secretly exploring mine
as chin and lips press up against cheek
consecrated by the dim-lit street
frame by frame
each passing car
caught a wordless moon
with her stare
please, please be patient cuz it's time i need
please, please wait here with me
As the setting sun
uncovered each star one by one
her heart was the night sky
and her eyes had only just begun
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
from a couch, in a living room
the stereo is eyeing me down
the records' a spinnin'
the records' a spinnin'
the records' a spinnin
the newspaper reads itself
the pages are turnin'
the pages are turnin'
the pages are turnin'
nothing is real
my world is make believe
the t.v. talks to me in my sleep
the channels are changin'
the channels are changin'
the channels are changin'
the clock is seated, propped like a judge
the hand are pointin'
the hand are pointin'
the hands are pointin;
when an eye is free of martyrs
and casualties are conversation starters
then nothing is real
i am what they tell me
the records' a spinnin'
the records' a spinnin'
the records' a spinnin
the newspaper reads itself
the pages are turnin'
the pages are turnin'
the pages are turnin'
nothing is real
my world is make believe
the t.v. talks to me in my sleep
the channels are changin'
the channels are changin'
the channels are changin'
the clock is seated, propped like a judge
the hand are pointin'
the hand are pointin'
the hands are pointin;
when an eye is free of martyrs
and casualties are conversation starters
then nothing is real
i am what they tell me
Upon reading Flight, by Sherman Alexie
A weapon that kills
is a weapon that kills
whether it fires or not
so be careful what you wish for
hold your tongue boy
hold your tongue
is a weapon that kills
whether it fires or not
so be careful what you wish for
hold your tongue boy
hold your tongue
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
10/18/09
sleepy eyes, and a routine morning coffee
shapes start spinning in my cup
the face of a mother and her young boy
the bright sun, swallowing their crop
they were waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
down
only for a dollar and a quarter
you and i will place an order
just one more cup of coffee
and another long year of poverty
upon their shoulders
as they're waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
the workday sure as hell aint getting shorter
meanwhile the price of my comfort aint getting any cheaper
and they're still waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
shapes start spinning in my cup
the face of a mother and her young boy
the bright sun, swallowing their crop
they were waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
down
only for a dollar and a quarter
you and i will place an order
just one more cup of coffee
and another long year of poverty
upon their shoulders
as they're waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
the workday sure as hell aint getting shorter
meanwhile the price of my comfort aint getting any cheaper
and they're still waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
Friday, October 16, 2009
Eve speaks
I recently moved to Vero Beach, and right around the corner from Rebekah's house, sits a retirement home. It is not uncommon to see residents strolling about the neighborhood, or watering the grass. Today however, i decided to join a friendly looking woman for a stroll around the block. We introduced ourselves, and began to tell our stories and future plans. I told of my recent graduation, and aspirations of becoming a writer for the local newspaper. She told of her children, and previous experiences teaching fifth grade science and writing for a small town newspaper herself.
We rounded the last corner of the block and arrived at the retirement home main entrance, at which point she told me her name was Eve and said a quick prayer for the passing airplane. I told her it was a pleasure to have met her and wished her a pleasant afternoon, at which point she stopped me, and said....
"Well, have a wonderful life, and remember, whatever happens; we have these beautiful birds, beautiful flowers; and we need people to take care of them, protect them, and beat the hell out of anyone who sprays them with pesticides."
We rounded the last corner of the block and arrived at the retirement home main entrance, at which point she told me her name was Eve and said a quick prayer for the passing airplane. I told her it was a pleasure to have met her and wished her a pleasant afternoon, at which point she stopped me, and said....
"Well, have a wonderful life, and remember, whatever happens; we have these beautiful birds, beautiful flowers; and we need people to take care of them, protect them, and beat the hell out of anyone who sprays them with pesticides."
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Savannah
she arrests innocence
in the calm of her embrace
but like the flicker of a flame
it fights and then it fades
the light grows dim
hold your head up high
her smile is breaking through the night
the sky caught word of her favorite color
when it rises
i can still see her
her life planted seeds
our tears now water them
up from the ground
grows a most redemptive sound
weeping, laughter, and love abounds
hold on for grace like the dawn
is coming
in the calm of her embrace
but like the flicker of a flame
it fights and then it fades
the light grows dim
hold your head up high
her smile is breaking through the night
the sky caught word of her favorite color
when it rises
i can still see her
her life planted seeds
our tears now water them
up from the ground
grows a most redemptive sound
weeping, laughter, and love abounds
hold on for grace like the dawn
is coming
Monday, October 12, 2009
Indian River County School District, please prove me wrong
I shut the door to my 1997, green, un-air-conditioned Pontiac, wiped the sweat of a twenty-minute drive from my forehead, and slowly shuffled up the sidewalk, toward Oslo Middle School. I had arrived in response to a posting on the Indian River County School District website, advertising a Middle School Social Studies teaching vacancy, and brought with me, every intention of introducing myself to the school principal.
Having recently graduated with a degree in Secondary Education from Palm Beach Atlantic University, I held a portfolio of my teaching, state certified accomplishments under my right arm and wore the debonair of Ron Clark on my left sleeve. Arriving at the front office, I quickly checked my reflection in the tinted doors, pausing to adjust my tie and tuck the back left corner of my brown long sleeved shirt into my thick khaki pants. I entered.
Instantly, both a wave of conditioned air, and the eyes of a concerned receptionist barraged my unorthodox and unseasonable attire.
“How can I help you today,” she said, very politely.
I swallowed
“Umm,” I began. “I was hoping to have a quick word with the school principal.”
Confusion.
“In regards to the advertisement for a social studies teacher,” I continued.
“All hiring is handled by the school district, and the applications are online,” she replied, having already stealthily retrieved a slip of yellow paper and begun writing. “Besides, our principal has several meetings, and the vice principals are on lunch duty,” she continued, still writing.
“I’m willing to wait,” I chimed in. “Can I sit here in the lobby?”
She hesitated, and a moment of unwieldy silence passed through the tense office air, as we both contemplated whether or not mine was a legitimate request.
“No,” she concluded. “I’m sorry.”
We both apologized several times, and I thanked her for her time and the slip of yellow paper. It contained the name and telephone number of the principal’s secretary, which, after exiting the office, I quickly dialed, hoping to attempt to make an appointment, or at least leave a vocal record of my visit with the principal; however, her response was very much the same. She informed me that the principal could not meet with me, and that my only course of action was through the school district. Despite my best effort to explain that I had already applied to the school district, that I do in fact hold a state certificate in this specific subject area, and that I am very eager to discuss this potential position, all she could do was wish me the best of luck.
I drove away from the school grounds baffled, not with these two receptionists, but with the protocol of the system, and for one main reason. I am confused as to why the public school system would deny me the very initiative and professionalism that they taught me to have when applying for a job.
I've always been taught that, it was necessary to go above and beyond what was expected, in order to leave a lasting impression with a potential employer; to dress nicely, to comb my hair, to smile, etc. I was taught to be pro-active; to take action before action was called for. Yet in today’s public education system hiring process, at least that morning’s, I discovered these instructions to be unattainable
Simply stated, I have yet to figure out how to put a shirt and tie onto an on-line application. I cannot seem to make it smile, give it a nice haircut, and have found no setting or option for an enthusiastic handshake. An online application is not creative, it is not unique, it is not personal, and it in no way allows a potential employer to connect a face and energy to the details and qualifications he or she is reading about.
My online application will tell you that I am twenty two, that I recently graduated college, and that my work experience leaves me far more qualified to mop bathroom floors and catch Alaskan salmon; however, an online application cannot and will not display my enthusiasm and love for education, for the art of learning, for social studies, and for students.
Now I am by no means against saving paper; heck, I take my own bags to the grocery store and my girlfriend wears patchouli; I’m practically a hippie. But, I am skeptical of a system that relies on electronic applications, when selecting the best-qualified applicants for interviewing. And having worked an entire semester, student and substitute teaching, in the public school system, I have seen the colossal amounts of paper used every day, and am confident that any teacher would agree that saving trees is not at the top of this public school system’s priorities.
Maybe I am being unfair, as my application is still under review by the school district Human Resource department, which I should add, consisted of some of the sweetest and most helpful women I’ve ever met. I am still waiting to call back at the end of this week for more information, and a potential interview; therefore it is very much my hope that my lack of faith in the system will be proven wrong.
Indian River County School District, please prove to me that you do in fact care about the personality and creativity of your potential employees. Prove to me that you are not merely looking for a name that happens to have it’s fingerprints taken and a passing score on its General Knowledge test. Prove to me that your environmentally friendly application process does not strip me of the very things you taught me to possess in order to be a proficient teacher.
Having recently graduated with a degree in Secondary Education from Palm Beach Atlantic University, I held a portfolio of my teaching, state certified accomplishments under my right arm and wore the debonair of Ron Clark on my left sleeve. Arriving at the front office, I quickly checked my reflection in the tinted doors, pausing to adjust my tie and tuck the back left corner of my brown long sleeved shirt into my thick khaki pants. I entered.
Instantly, both a wave of conditioned air, and the eyes of a concerned receptionist barraged my unorthodox and unseasonable attire.
“How can I help you today,” she said, very politely.
I swallowed
“Umm,” I began. “I was hoping to have a quick word with the school principal.”
Confusion.
“In regards to the advertisement for a social studies teacher,” I continued.
“All hiring is handled by the school district, and the applications are online,” she replied, having already stealthily retrieved a slip of yellow paper and begun writing. “Besides, our principal has several meetings, and the vice principals are on lunch duty,” she continued, still writing.
“I’m willing to wait,” I chimed in. “Can I sit here in the lobby?”
She hesitated, and a moment of unwieldy silence passed through the tense office air, as we both contemplated whether or not mine was a legitimate request.
“No,” she concluded. “I’m sorry.”
We both apologized several times, and I thanked her for her time and the slip of yellow paper. It contained the name and telephone number of the principal’s secretary, which, after exiting the office, I quickly dialed, hoping to attempt to make an appointment, or at least leave a vocal record of my visit with the principal; however, her response was very much the same. She informed me that the principal could not meet with me, and that my only course of action was through the school district. Despite my best effort to explain that I had already applied to the school district, that I do in fact hold a state certificate in this specific subject area, and that I am very eager to discuss this potential position, all she could do was wish me the best of luck.
I drove away from the school grounds baffled, not with these two receptionists, but with the protocol of the system, and for one main reason. I am confused as to why the public school system would deny me the very initiative and professionalism that they taught me to have when applying for a job.
I've always been taught that, it was necessary to go above and beyond what was expected, in order to leave a lasting impression with a potential employer; to dress nicely, to comb my hair, to smile, etc. I was taught to be pro-active; to take action before action was called for. Yet in today’s public education system hiring process, at least that morning’s, I discovered these instructions to be unattainable
Simply stated, I have yet to figure out how to put a shirt and tie onto an on-line application. I cannot seem to make it smile, give it a nice haircut, and have found no setting or option for an enthusiastic handshake. An online application is not creative, it is not unique, it is not personal, and it in no way allows a potential employer to connect a face and energy to the details and qualifications he or she is reading about.
My online application will tell you that I am twenty two, that I recently graduated college, and that my work experience leaves me far more qualified to mop bathroom floors and catch Alaskan salmon; however, an online application cannot and will not display my enthusiasm and love for education, for the art of learning, for social studies, and for students.
Now I am by no means against saving paper; heck, I take my own bags to the grocery store and my girlfriend wears patchouli; I’m practically a hippie. But, I am skeptical of a system that relies on electronic applications, when selecting the best-qualified applicants for interviewing. And having worked an entire semester, student and substitute teaching, in the public school system, I have seen the colossal amounts of paper used every day, and am confident that any teacher would agree that saving trees is not at the top of this public school system’s priorities.
Maybe I am being unfair, as my application is still under review by the school district Human Resource department, which I should add, consisted of some of the sweetest and most helpful women I’ve ever met. I am still waiting to call back at the end of this week for more information, and a potential interview; therefore it is very much my hope that my lack of faith in the system will be proven wrong.
Indian River County School District, please prove to me that you do in fact care about the personality and creativity of your potential employees. Prove to me that you are not merely looking for a name that happens to have it’s fingerprints taken and a passing score on its General Knowledge test. Prove to me that your environmentally friendly application process does not strip me of the very things you taught me to possess in order to be a proficient teacher.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
September 29, 2009
up against a window
vaining to read
Dante’s Inferno
became reality
courage was a short walk
straight to the shop keeper
wanting a shot
but there was smoke on my hands
smoke in my eyes
smoke on my resume
ambition is fire
a salary water
who’s to blame
for the smoke on my lips
smoke in my ears
smoke in my brain?
vaining to read
Dante’s Inferno
became reality
courage was a short walk
straight to the shop keeper
wanting a shot
but there was smoke on my hands
smoke in my eyes
smoke on my resume
ambition is fire
a salary water
who’s to blame
for the smoke on my lips
smoke in my ears
smoke in my brain?
Sunday, June 14, 2009
On the handkerchief near where I sleep; far-far away from home
Pure, meek, faint...
staunchly present.
Illuminating
detachment.
Transcendent---soothing.
Her scent!
staunchly present.
Illuminating
detachment.
Transcendent---soothing.
Her scent!
Saturday, April 4, 2009
March
morning-ocean-sun collide
like porcelain and reverence
water's mirror reflects, respires
purity unseen by its own eyes
the waves roll in to bring the tide
so her joy brought me a smile
the little girl inside her weeps
looks up and says can you see
what you do, do you find it pretty
oh god my heart is heavy
the little boy inside me keeps
pressing on into the deep
hide girl and i'll come seek
hide girl and i'll come seek
summer leaves exhale and fall
wintered from the infant branch
hardened by road and time
scattered in the march breeze
they blanket earth to kiss her feet
leaves are carried by the wind
so her laugh taught me to live
(so her love taught me to give)
*i say god made delicate hearts
the beauty of yours taught mine trust
building bridges to cross valleys over my fears
to speak now of that which i must
*alan kaiser adaptation
like porcelain and reverence
water's mirror reflects, respires
purity unseen by its own eyes
the waves roll in to bring the tide
so her joy brought me a smile
the little girl inside her weeps
looks up and says can you see
what you do, do you find it pretty
oh god my heart is heavy
the little boy inside me keeps
pressing on into the deep
hide girl and i'll come seek
hide girl and i'll come seek
summer leaves exhale and fall
wintered from the infant branch
hardened by road and time
scattered in the march breeze
they blanket earth to kiss her feet
leaves are carried by the wind
so her laugh taught me to live
(so her love taught me to give)
*i say god made delicate hearts
the beauty of yours taught mine trust
building bridges to cross valleys over my fears
to speak now of that which i must
*alan kaiser adaptation
Monday, March 16, 2009
Everybody wants
Everybody wants to save the ocean
but no one really bothers to take a swim
Like everybody fights to talk about Jesus
but no one seems to know Him
So don't think, just buy
don't hurt, just cry
don't hope, just die
and we'll all be happy
don't question, just lie
don't confess it, just hide
don't doubt, just wonder why
we all keep
we all keep playing church
I've lived twenty-one years in ignorance
what would it kill if I lived twenty-one more
I don't think it would much hurt society
in fact I think it's just what they're looking for
but no one really bothers to take a swim
Like everybody fights to talk about Jesus
but no one seems to know Him
So don't think, just buy
don't hurt, just cry
don't hope, just die
and we'll all be happy
don't question, just lie
don't confess it, just hide
don't doubt, just wonder why
we all keep
we all keep playing church
I've lived twenty-one years in ignorance
what would it kill if I lived twenty-one more
I don't think it would much hurt society
in fact I think it's just what they're looking for
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