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'The Teachers Club'A Brief Synopsis on The Teachers Club
Not all teachers are bad. Not that many are all that great though, either. But some deserve special recognition for their outstanding dedication, impressive use of vocabulary, and a certain degree of over-all awesomeness.
This is what The Teachers Club is all about; to recognize the value of the truly amazing men in woman charged with guaranteeing our education.
This is the firs time the term The Teachers Club has been used to describe the phenomenon. We never gave a name to this group, but they have always been there. From the wonderfully loopy science teachers to then insanely over-hyper English instructors, these men and women will forever stand out in our memories of our school years.
Some teachers earn their admission simply by being their eccentric selves. Take Laspey, for example. On top of teaching various classes throughout the English department, such as Journalism and Creative Writin
A Table for Everyone I never belonged to a table before. Before high school only those with many friends could claim a table for themselves.
But now its different. No one is left without a table. In the middle, and easy to see, the upperclassmen fool around in circles. Gossip girls and their boyfriends gather in clusters towards the front with their backs to the windows. In another room, some poets, a smoker, and a handful illustrators all wearing dark sweatshirts convene by an arrangement of small red tables.
Our table hides in the back, in a corner, away from the lunch line and next to the snack bar that closed last year. A big round gray table that usually seats about six. We, the artists and book nerds, read Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings too many times. As actors we some days help L, the master mind from Death Note, and on others re-enact our favorite scenes from parodies of our favorite shows. One
My Filthy, Fucked-up Fridge I am a neat-freak. Not so much in the sense that I bleach every surface in sight, or ever comb my carpets to remove the pet fur thats woven its self into the fibers.
I just like to be organized. I like it when the house around me is organized. I like it when my thoughts are organized, and when my day is planned out for me ahead of time. I just like it when my life has order.
So when school had to start two weeks late because of the teachers strike, I felt like I was on the brink of dying from depression. You see, I had already run out of things to do by then. I had planned out my summer so that I would finish off my homework only two days before the new year would begin, and had been waiting in exited anticipation for my school days to return.
But they never did, not for two whole weeks. I had to stay, penned in my house, for yet another two, infuriating, hell-hole weeks.
Finally, the district announced that
when you find yourself
in a crowd of familiar faces,
the struggle for breath
You Will PayI can taste the fear upon you:
The cold sweat in your palms,
The eyes that dart at shadows,
And the lips that are forced into a tightened smile.
You wait beneath the blankets,
Shivering each night as the anxiety rises.
You gasp at the slightest sounds and quiver...
For you are afraid of the curse that comes.
In your mind you see what you have done to me.
You watched as you ripped my tongue
And stole the very voice from my soul!
But even if I am without a body,
Even if I can no longer hold a knife to your throat.
Fear alone is enough for me to silence you,
And I will NEVER allow you to be heard!
Inner DemonI harbour a monster,
It lingers deep within.
It wants to escape me,
To tear free from my skin.
It gnaws at my insides,
And hopes that I'll give in.
It works hard to tempt me,
To lead me into sin.
It wants me to suffer
To feel its wretched sting.
But I stand true and strong,
I will not let it win.
The nights are the hardest,
In bed I pray and sing
To the Lord God above
To rid me of this thing.
But instead it remains,
My monster still within.
MazeLost within myself
Looking for a way out
This cannot end like this
Trapped in my own mind
A maze with no exit
I keep running and running
But I always end up
In the same place where I began
RustThe dwelling rust
swells this hollow garden
and somewhere in the yard
a tire swing goes flat
against the skyline.
It chokes the autumn light
in the silo,
the crush of
mums and ragged berries
It bubbles in the percolator
steeping still life
in the caul
of early morning -
the red-brown crumbs
of breakfast toast and jam
growing ghosts upon
And deep inside
I still hear you waking up
the soft salute
of morning voices
stirring the wind
outside my window.
Slaves of the deadSlaves of the dead
to find another land,
but they couldn't stand the desert and the frost.
Some died, some returned.
For those who returned
the masters had prepared a special punishment.
Their memory was wiped off.
They became thieves,
without ever understanding why.
They just felt it was the right thing to do.
Red Light ReduxHaving a truck
Paint me red
Is the strangest feeling
I’ve ever felt.
I’ve seen myself melt away
Like a mid-summer’s ice cream
While my personality screams
To be noticed. Every wall that once
Stood between me and reality
I am finally free.
Until they strapped me down
And sewed back my hands to my head.
My heart to my mouth.
My legs to the earth.
The taste of freedom
Rests gently on my tongue,
And I’ve been trying
To no avail.
Letter to a Would-be SpaniardLet me not count the days
That you have not been at my side
Let me forget the days I've cried
I miss you,
I miss you friend,
Gathering ourselves at pained day's end
With one another huddling
In your warm room
New Mexico is cold in winter
But with smiling suns
And hugging homes,
Beloved ones.... no longer.
With no one else do I share this union,
Fellowship, home-brewed friends' communion.
With others I feel stranger,
The others I might burden,
With others, my display is measured
From them comes no reprieval's pleasure.
But when it's just
Just you and me
Speech and Fear and Sympathy
Speech and Fear and Sympathy flow freely
For there's no debt between us,
Both good and bad by both discussed -
To have you as a friend I do feel blessed,
But without you
I am sleepless.
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More