Tag Archives: teachers

World Teachers’ Day – Big Giant Thank You!


Over all my years of   schooling where I learned to read, to write,  to be – I have had many many wonderful teachers. I have also had the ones who didn’t make much impression and a few who I would be happy to call them out should I meet them today and at least ask them why they bothered to enter the profession.

But today is a day for those who were the stars in my becoming who I am  – a pretty descent bloke in my own expert opinion. Any way every day I write and every word I write i must thank my teachers for. Humbly and luckily there are two of my English teachers, one from high school and one from my university days that actually take the time to follow this blog. So to them and to all those others, especially from my younger days when I did not know how lucky I was to have them –

big giant

 

THANK YOU!

Apologies

for the delay.

Sincerely,

the boy in the back

1974 crosby

 

What Is True Remains

for me writing is something I do,

sometimes I want to

sometimes I don’t,

but always I do.

as if someday maybe all those written words,

sifted through,

subtracted from ,

will leave remaining some thing I don’t know,

but want to find out –

what’s left after I subtract all the words of a life time?

that’s what I want from it.

For what is true remains.

sometimes in this writing life

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Irish Winter part2 : pants (intimate)


There is no fire and its cold. I ,usually so phobic of the cold ,today don’t mind. Welcome cold let me feel the small pain of knowing I’m still alive. happy to be so. of course I’m wearing my fingerless yak hair gloves from Darcy’s, Michelle’s over sized brown jumper form Jones – over a denim shirt over a maroon tea shirt; a pair of Levis brought back from last years trip to the states, blue wool walking socks, n a pair of regatta waterproofs. And why is it a pair of pants? Is each leg a pant and therefore you have a pair? shouldn’t it just be a pant? It must be that each leg is a pant, therefore I’ll put on my pants. maybe originally they came separate? Un-joined like long socks? Pair of socks makes sense. Two make a pair. I put on one my sock then the other and if they match it’s a pair. If they don’t is it ,or are they, still a pair? Can you have a pair of unmatched socks? Maybe if they’re not on you they’re not a pair but once you put them on they are even if the don’t match? I’m wearing a pair of un -matching socks? or is it unmatched. I’m wearing a half a pair of socks on each foot? anyway why a pair of pants, I’m not wearing two pants I’m wearing one blue denim Levis pant.

 

Lapwing is editing a new collection of poems for publication. I had thought it might be ready this year which would have made it 8 years since they did Searches For Magic. Its been about 10 month now I think, more than a baby. Oh well horses take eleven months. In fairness I sent Dennis about 200 poems, basically the contents of caribou and sister stones that I self published via LuLu. Well I’m grateful for his interest. was hoping he’d print soon so I can attempt to do so public reading and have product to sell. The LuLu is mad expensive for shipping and blah blah blah.

 

I have been too intimate with my life for regrets. I was happy for that thought, it freed me from the erroneous belief that life must have regrets. I have had dreams that didn’t come true, things I felt so sure of that turned out to be not so, but how would I wish away any of my closest friend, my own life, my own self experience? If I were to have only one minute to relive before I die – would I waste time saying OK but not this one not that? I liked the little boy who lived for a while w/ no siblings, I liked the shy boy who got slapped around in school, I admired the courage that teenager had to drop acid to smoke dope to fall in love without any restraint to write a life time of poetry, I felt protective of the young man in jail, scared for the one who registered for the draft, and for the one who loved women, who loved the whole idea of women who loved the exploration of the most mysterious beautiful being called women and who mostly always ever seemed to create pain…

I have been too intimate with my life for regrets. It is a beautiful day, it is a good day to die, it is another day deserving gratitude to all who were my mothers and fathers, all my teachers, benevolent and wrathful formal and informal.

I am here in this beautiful land with my beautiful partner and our beautiful daughter and today I’m 53 years old. woo hoo!

 

there is a beauty even in the grey

there is a beauty even in the grey

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