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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
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
My School Says I'm Worthless (sort of a rant)I'm a criminal because my values aren't their values
And I'm scum to say the least
Because I'm not on their list
Ones who have their lives set out
And drink from molten glory raining down from
School top balconies...
And I have myself left to blame for all the non-attempts
And truancies; the bleak distractions
That help me escape the inviolable test-score stares
Of disapproval that I attract from their
And they're forced to ask me 'Why?
Why are you still here?'
And I can barely say
That I'm afraid to leave.
That I know that no-one knows
Or what they want to be
But unlike those
I gave up
A while ago
And they can't tell me to my face that I'm a failure so they heavily imply
That my lacking presence
And even less impressive
Tendency for slacking off is evidence
That I am stupid and a fool and nothing more than such a waste of resources
And it's a disappointment
That I don't hold their ideals
VesselYour heart is a compass.
Broken, perhaps, but I know
It’s always searching for the North Star.
Which way will your beard point tonight?
DanielYou are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium
that does not make you the lesser -
You’ve got the weight of the world
on one shoulder
sometimes you trip because of it -
you’re still walking
and if things fused wrong
post or anterior
and if things fused out in the interior
your circuits live on
and if your thoughts get circular
or so do your moods
and your mind blanks and you forget -
you’re nervous but strong -
then I’ll remind you.
Because you give me
the backbone required
you’re my Atlas, so I lift my head,
you’re my axis, so I can face the future
because you are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium.
You’re my inner strength.
FallingFailure after failure
A life not worth living
Lost in my misery
Long gone are the good moments
I keep falling
Nothing can save me now
Gone my hopes are
Because He'sHe’s listening
Millions of them.
A flash of red
And a navy hat
No warning – now motionless
With skin turned to shadows.
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.
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