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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
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
AliveA ray of hope shines during the
Long restless hours
I keep enduring the task of
Vanquishing the darkness with the
Energy from the depths of my soul
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be part of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
WishCardLet the rays of the sun
Bring happiness and light into your house,
Let the sun bring you lovely gifts.
Let your heart's music free,
Let your smile to light up your face.
I wish you happiness and joy.
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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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More