Posted in Flashback And Memoir, Flashes, REsponses To

Laughing Out Loud At The Cloudy Sky

 

The sea was cold today. I sat upstairs, the ferry’s engine rumbled; as we floated back turning toward open water I felt the icy spray. I admire how gulls light on the surface bobbing with ripples and crests, unmoved and unimpressed. They have the good life but what about the rest?

It causes me to consider.

Creationism at it’s worst; splitting the atom – creation energy in a tube – all impressive. I remember don’t eat of this fruit, you’ll make yourself a god knowing good and evil and be exiled from the garden. Respect, knowing and forms make the garden that I see. Am I alone? Doesn’t anyone agree?

The sea is rough as well as cold; icy spray refreshes from thought. Dolphins swim along side laughing out loud at the cloudy sky; the junction where currents collide impress them not as they dance. I watch. Thoughts become present again.

Brutalized by students. They act out, they cheat, they reason, “we’re legion and she’ll never know, we can get away with crime” or at least it is in their mind but why would one want to loot in the dark? Why is the aspiration to outwit what’s right, because it can’t see? But, it can. They don’t know me. Yet there’s no victory if I identify each one. Did I prevail? No though I asked their help, they directed me. I paid for their responsibility, for the responsibility of the higher ranking than me as far up as the principal and here I sit. My heart aches, is heavy, and I wonder if I should have let them rule the day accepting my fate. But, I’m a teacher. I thought it was my job, to guide, to teach, to show the right way. Let’s make your teacher happy who’s gone these couple days. Let her see how much you can do, your commitment, the contract… I’m exhausted.

I hope life goes on. What an awful way to feel.

Bennett said Nietsche is dead, God remains, but Nietsche’s writings remain too his spirit present, his thoughts survive. Now what do we do? The ferry has docked; I think I’ll walk and get a fish sandwich to go with an espresso to take the chill; then up to a top floor and rooftop café overlooking the city above fog, pollution and mist. What can I say? Even cloudy it can be a good day.

Posted in Fiction & Poetry

TeenAge: Disgruntled Again

 

Disgruntled youth once again

As I tell him the score

What’s in store?

You must do school work

I don’t want to says he

But you’re in school I chuckle silently

 

Anger and stomping reminiscent of two

Can I see this teacher?

Can I see that one?

Look, get settled into school work you see

Yes, that’s what she’ll do he says finally

He sits and is quiet

 

Could happen it’s true

 

Yet a young lady in the back

Thinks she’s the one to undo

No discipline for her

As she laments her state

Watching youtube

The volume up too

 

But an administrator comes

The door’s right behind

Not the cleverest mind

Privilege revoked

Books only now rule

That’s the way it is

 

ISS or not, it’s school