Death by Air

I found your shriveled crispy body

Like a fallen leaf, on the floor

I scooped you up and laid you to rest

In a plastic bag coffin

You were so exuberant in your watery home

A living rainbow, now turned black

It pains me to think about the moment

Of your departure,

If you could feel parts of you being eaten,

Or if you were already gone by that point

Tossed around by gentle fuzzy paws

An end to the daily terror

Of predators watching, watching, attacking

It was only a matter of time.

Fiend

She had no intention
but she said she'd come anyway
She rehearsed the familiar excuses
Of getting out of things
And pushed it from her mind.

She had no intention
but she said rude and nasty things
She manipulated to get what she wanted
In the name of friendship and selflessness
And in the end was all alone.

She had no intention
but she said she'd be there
She pretended it was not all about her
Yet was still the victim
And never realized why.

The fiend, she lies and guilts you with cries
You never should call but are trapped in it all

Storm

The sun set a burning red disk
The storm that came was severe.

Lights flickered and dimmed
The sky flared green ghostly glow
The audible hum
of something being interrupted
A power surge, as I swear
the building had been struck
I felt it pulsing through me
every hair on end, a cold rush as
the electrical field engulfed me.

Rain in torrents,
Panic. Sirens.

A flaming circle, later embers in the cloudbeds
sparking with intensity,
bursting with fire and water and wind.

Noise Complaint


Boom boom boom
It’s as though there is a car in the parking lot
With a very loud stereo that you can still hear
After you’ve closed all the windows
But the difference is the car won’t drive away, the noise keeps thudding into my mind,
Vibrating the walls.

The lease says no undue noise disturbance will be tolerated
And this is certainly causing me grief
I asked to turn it down,
It was only slightly lowered, to a point that makes little difference
Now I’m only more frustrated my courage to voice my discontent was ineffective, futile.

I think it’s a video game
It sounds like explosions,
Helicopters, tanks and destruction
Elephants moving furniture in a narrow hallway
Ogres trying to break free of underground caves
Pirate ship war of cannons
Midnight machines pulverizing concrete
Slamming of bowling balls on lacquered hardwood
Buildings collapsing with the rhythmic crash of the wrecking ball.

I’m trying to get used to it
For the second night
I can’t keep wearing ear plugs, chaffing my ear sores,
Walking around as though I am deaf, unable to hear the gentle sounds of the outdoors
Or use the telephone
How can I accustom myself to the
Trembling and quaking of the earth with the rumble of volcanic eruptions
The collapse of a mountainous avalanche
Thunder of a thousand angry skies
The drum of a deadly giant’s resonant heartbeat
The smashing echo of soldiers ramming down the last defense of my sanity.

A skittish cat
Pacing, pacing.
A leery bird, flustered. Both and the same.
Unable to escape the anxiety,
not a single room in this would-be sanctuary offers comfort.

Museum Research

In the museum I work at, I found some great poetry written during WWII by an Albertan woman named Bertha L. Stone, schoolteacher & newspaper editor. Exerpts:


Inconsistency, 1939

Millions of dollars for war machines,
For hangars and ramps and submarines;
For caps and braid and army boots,
For swagger sticks and service suits;
For howitzers and tommy guns,
For screaming bombs by tons and tons.
But, how many dollars for irrigation
On lands that lack precipitation
How many dollars for education
To spread Good Will to every nation
Heaven grant the day be not too far
When we learn what awful fools we are.


This Rationing, 1942-1945

Don't fret about this Rationing.
You won't- if you are wise.
For every bit of Rationing's
A blessing in disguise.
Why cry for gas for motor cars,
Or beer for other motives,
When cars and bars leave fewer scars
By rationing these explosives.

Almost June

My PS3 is in Medicine Hat from Sept-Dec

I find out my placement in June

hoping for grade 4,

mostly because of the curriculum

it ties in well with the extra curricular

and professional development projects I have in mind



Nature Club and an Enviro Friendly School Manual

I am going back to the part of me that was

Environment Committee Head in the EUS

Grade 4 learns 'Waste and Our World' in science



In June I meet the teacher I will be working with

I will be on my own

with a lovely safety net

Easter break

I don't want it to be over
8 more days with my kids
how do you do it every year?

I just became sure of my authority
and found the level they were on
forced my way into each of their minds
and soon I'll never see them again.

Do I tell them?
Should they have warning?
How will it affect my classroom management?

I am glad I've had this week off
to recharge and reflect
and think of all that I have left to teach
in my limited days