Educational Musings 2 of 2: For Arts Education

Here is the second poem that came to me during PD and listening about reading levels and scores and this and that. 

As I sit here
At teacher PD
I wonder what kind
Of teacher I'll be.

I really hate
How we now teach
To find creativity
Is quite a reach.

Tests, scores
Race to the Top
We have seemingly
The humanities have dropped.

I pity the child
Who wants to create
Cause a narrowing of soul
Seems to be his fate.

Arts programs are cut
By the scores each day
Self expression no longer
Seems to be the way.

Tests and programs
NCLB and NJ ASK
Are only concerned
With math and reading tasks.

Quickly we remove
All kinds of outlets
Of creativity for all
How we got here, we seem to forget.

Remember the great men
Aristotle and Plato
They taught great things
Thousand of years ago.

They taught people science
They taught them art
They taught religion
And doing their civic part.

They created great thinkers
And philosophers too
Actors and musicians
Poets and playwrights too.

They were great teachers
Who sculpted a mind
Thinking like that
You can no longer find.

We no longer care
About the whole kid
Both mind and soul
Like we once did.

The arts are more
Then just fun and games
They teach kids a lot
And creativity they tame.

They give an outlet
And lessons to learn
They increase test scores
So it's money not burned.

They increase reading
Mathematics too
They give students
Skills in all they do.

When I think of how
Each student we teach
Aristotle would shiver
And Socrates would cease.

This is not how
Education was meant
It's supposed to widen the mind
Not take a testing bent.

Educational Musings 1 of 2

So as a theatre teacher sitting in a PD today, I was feeling quite angry especially when all of my questions about plays and poems were not being answered. I wrote two poems about this. Here's the first: 

A leveled response
A poker face
You'll never know
How my mind does race.

I sit and listen
But really don't care
Your words mean nothing
Your voice drifts on air.

What you say
Is no concern of mine
Meaning in your words
I'm struggling to find.

My mind runs
To a place far away
To a creative land
Where you have nothing to say.

People don't realize
The talents I have
Instead they want to pin me
Against a cold slab

Of standards and reasons
Core this and that
Teaching to a test
My mind is not growing fat.

My soul rebels
Against all this stuff
To be creative in here
Is proving quite tough.

I don't care about scores
Of standards to find
All I want
Is to broaden a mind.

When have we
Data based become?
When did tests and scores
Replace learning as fun?

I always hear
The arts have no place
The data's too driven
To the top it's a race.

What about a kid
With a sensitive soul
Who enters a classroom
Creativity a goal?

He is lost
In some test based shuffle
HIs mind and soul
Enter a scuffle.

The artist who finds
He has no relief
Finds that his soul
Has become quite a beast.

No one cares
In this world any more
Whether the artist can thrive
As long as he has a high test score.

The actor, artist
Musician too
Who find that his
Drive has nothing to do

With Race to the Top
Or NCLB
Terranova or Ask
Will soon be

Forced to conform
Compartmentalize his mind
Push down that creative soul
Until it, he can no longer find.

Power Point

After sitting through eight hours of professional development and listening to fellow educators READ their power point slides to us, I got a little angry. Here is what came up. 

Powerpoint Powerpoint
You I despise
Slides and clicks
My soul slowly dies.

People read from you
Each swoop of a slide
Monotony you encourage
I really wish you died.

Black text
White back
I really, really want
Prezi back.

Please, PLEASE
Memorize your slides
The constant reading of you
Makes me wish I died.

Tacky clip art
Charts and graphs too
Very slowly,
You turn my mind into goo.

Powerpoint, Powerpoint
You should disappear
Because you make me
REALLY HATE BEING HERE!

A Look Back

I'm sitting backstage waiting for my final cue to be called to dance my choreography for the last time in cbp:LLC's production of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." I'm thinking of how I got here and of all the people who have influenced me. And I remember Drew University's Department of Theatre and Dance.

I get nostalgic 

Each closing night

I remember so much 

Remember so many plights.

I think of me

And how I've grown

And how glad I am

That growth has shown.

I think back to all

Who've impacted me

Helped me to become

All I could be.

I think of the man

Who started it all

A man who caught me

Each time I'd fall.

A man who says

A theatre major I'd be

Who saw my potential

When that I couldn't see.

Then all too quick,

In a blink he was gone.

The love he instilled in me

Forever lives on.

I sit here too

Thinking of all the hands

Who have helped me to grow 

My theatrical plans.

All of the professors

Who stood by me

Taught me to learn

My own potential to see.

Rosemary and Lisa

They inspired me to write

Helped me persevere

Through a dramaturgy fight.

Baz and And

Taught me how to design

To build sets and character

And always challenged my mind.

Dan is a sage

Wise and true

Words of encouragement 

He'll always give you.

Then there's Chris

Who taught me to act

 Made me a great teacher too

And that is a fact.

And of course there's Cheryl

Who taught me most to grow.

To dance and choreograph

And all about Laban I know.

As I sit backstage 

Working in this art

I'm so grateful for the knowledge 

Each chose to impart.

This closing night

Is special to me

Because I think of those

Who taught me to be.

The closing of a show

I was a choreographer and actor in cbp:LLC's production of "How to Succeed inBusiness Without Really Trying." It has been a long journey but we completed a very successful run. Here's what I thought:

A journey's end 

On a warm summer day

So many emotions

At the end of this play.

Bonds have been made

New friendships born

Shared many laughs

Many secrets sworn.

Songs and music 

Dances too

Shaving and singing

To the song of a kazoo. 

Rehearsals and techs

Challenges abound

No matter the obstacle

A solution we found.

About myself

Much I did learn

I'm quite creative 

And got praise for which I yearned.

Me and my dances called great

But little do they know

Both were only successful

Because my cast made it so.

A great director 

A wonderful cast

From this show

I've got mem'ries that will last.

 

A Treasure

After sitting through several hours of professional development and hearing about a teacher's role in the lives of his students, this poem came to me. 

Have you ever seen a box
With treasure inside
That forced you to grow
And look inside

Of your heart
Deep in your soul
In your own mind
Clarity a goal?

To find yourself
A leader born
To guide others
Your duty you've sworn.

To lead and to guide
To teach and to grow
To impart all the best
Knowledge you know.

That treasure's a child
You teach everyday
You mould and you shape them
In every possible way.

Ripped

I was sitting in Professional Development the other day and was having extremely manic thoughts. This is the result. 

I always wonder,
My thoughts like thunder,
Bounce through my brain
Like shards of pain.

They pound my ear
Triple my fears
Create a shroud
Eyes closed, loud!

I can't shake the feelin'
My thoughts are reelin'
Death fills my mind
My nose to the grind.

My thoughts won't quit
Can't sleep for spit
I've gotta run
Like quick, he's got a gun!

I close my eyes
Search for the prize
Of eternal peace
May be within my reach.

Fire in my mind
My thoughts unwind
But in my soul,
Salvation's my goal.

To be able to breathe
To think with ease
To lose control
Love deep in my soul.

To feel that fire
To know that desire
To know that touch
To love too much.

I search and yearn
I still feel that burn
I want quiet and love
Free thoughts like a dove.

Do I Go or Do I Stay?

Your Bipolar poet has messed up her medication, resulting in a really fucked up head trip where mania and depression are fighting for dominance within my brain. While nothing good is coming out of this head trip, a decent poem has manifested itself. I give you: "Do I go or stay?"

Thoughts rushing

Frantic, gushing

No end in sight

For a long endless night.

Nightmares loom

Twilight’s gloom

Doesn’t kiss the sky.

How I wish I could die.

Death’s hand is kind

Her grasp is fine

Her fingers beckon me

Her black eyes see

Into my soul

No salvation’s goal

Cannot run away

Cannot seize the day.

Do I go or do I stay

Follow Death or run away?

I know the horrors that are here

The terrors behind her I fear.

Do I go or do I stay

Follow Death or run away?

Do I take her grasping claw

Her hand as cold as a saw?

Do I go or do I stay

Follow Death or run away?

Touch her face and feel her power

Or do I try to steal one more hour

In the land of the living

Where my soul can stay forgiving?

Do I go or do I stay

Follow Death or run away? 

A Bipolar Brain

Terror and horror
They go hand in hand
A movie in my mind
Their music a band

Of tortures that
 Play in my ears
Barking and screeching
And living out fears.

What kind of thoughts
Live in a Bipolar brain?
Many of heartache,
Even more of pain.

Sometimes there's joy
But those are scarce and few
Occasionally there's happy
But that's as fragile as dew.

A word, an action
Harsh or not meant
Can take this brain
And turn it to cement.

Thoughts won't fire
Life is a haze
All that's your company
Are dark, lonely days.

Or thoughts move too fast
Swifter then lightening
Trying to catch them,
Now that can be frightening.

Each one can hold horrors
Imagined or real
The thoughts that make it
Too painful to feel.

Happy though, is what people want
So you try always to give
Smiles abound
Even when it, is too painful to live.

Don't let anyone see
The pain and the fear
Smile and laugh
Though demons you hear.

It's always a fear
Locked in my heart
If these thoughts were known
From people I'd part.

It's really crazy
The judgements I've got
Pointing fingers and jeers
"She's one crazy sot!"

I'm not crazy
I want to scream
I feel things intently
And wish it were a dream.

So rarely I tell
What's locked in my mind
Though I'd love to share
With a friend who is kind.

I'd love to one day
Tell the world who I am
Tell all the fears
A dialogue began.

So I'll share it here
In this nice little book,
A kindred soul will,
Perhaps take a look.

She'll read these words
This poem of sorts
And maybe she'll realize
Out there ARE supports.

I know I won't know her
Or learn her name
But of reading my struggles
Perhaps, some knowledge she'll gain.

She's not alone
Or isolated from all
And maybe that thought
Will make her stand ten feet fall.

Everyone is different
Her, you, me
Loved her our uniqueness
I wish we could be.

Without all the stigma
The word insanity
Love me for me,
Not who you'll think I'd be.

Please do sit
And wait till we fall
Kick us and break us
Pressed against a wall.

Honor our spirit
Honor our soul
To be fully accepted,
This Bipolar's only goal.

What Do You See?

I was asked recently, "What's it like when you meet new people?" I had to think of that answer for a very long time, but this is the result. 

I often wonder
When you look at me,
Do you see who I am
Or who you think me to be?

Do you see a quiet
Sensitive soul
Bouncing around
Trying to reach a goal?

Or do you see Manic me
Running about
Thoughts fast as lightening
Me trying to shout?

Do you see me depressed
And feeling so low
Contemplating death
As the only way to go?

Do you see an artist
Who dances, acts and writes
To make a big break
As one of my fights?

Do you see me as crazy
Because of what labels me?
Do you give me a chance
Or is Lithium all that you see?

Do you see my ideas?
How I want things to be?
Or do you break me down
For my advocacy?

Do you see I have strength
Fighting daily as I do?
For some peace of mind
Or do you simply pooh-pooh?

Do you see me as less
Then what I am
Because, to function, my mind
Needs a medical dram?

Do you see me struggle
Fighting so hard
But instead of helping
You stab me with a shard?

Do you see something special
When I reveal to you my soul?
Or is ripping it up
Your only goal?

Do you see me
When I look in your eyes?
Do you see someone who lives
Or someone who dies?

Do you see a fighter
Or someone who quits?
Someone whose hand you'd shake
Or someone at whom you'd spit?

These are the questions
When meeting someone new.
Isn't it sad
What a stigma can do?

Our Generation

I am a teacher and I was speaking to my kids today during school. I asked them "What do you do after school?" Their responses were: "Go on facebook." "Nothing." "Play games on X-Box." I realized that children lost the ability to play and do not know the true joys of a summer day. This poem is the result. 

From hop scotch
To cops and robbers,
I played outside
To pass the hours.

Our own phone lines
To Yikes and Paul Frank
We saved our pennies
In our piggy bank.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?
And SNICK at night
To stay up to watch them
With your parents you'd fight.

You called your friends
Made plans after school
If we imagined a disconnect
We'd be called a fool.

What happened then,
To that simpler time?
A change occurred
Without reason or rhyme.

No longer do children
Play outside all day
To run, imagine laugh,
Instead they'd rather stay

Inside the house,
On a computer all bright,
Surfing the web,
On Facebook all night.

Friends are made
Not in flesh and blood,
With a click of the mouse,
You've got a new bud.

We've disconnected
So far from our life,
Each other's laughter,
One another's strife.

We have forgotten
A simple touch,
From human interaction,
We learn so much.

Kids today, they
Don't understand
The world out there,
The need for a plan.

Behind their PC
They cannot stay
Chatting and gaming
And wasting a day.

What happened to us
Our own feeling goal?
Wires and gadgets
Have replaced our very soul.

Humanity is gone
Or seems far away,
On cellphones and laptops
We spend our days.

I long for summer
Of playing in the sun
An imaginative game
From when I was young.

We knew how to laugh
We knew how to play
We knew how to touch
And we knew what to say.

We knew our friends
And where they lived
We knew their touch
And the love they gived.

Today we miss that,
The human touch.
To get that back,
Am I asking too much?

Love Labor's Lost

A friend of mine is really sick. This is my way of coping with it. 

Love labor's lost
Lost love's labors
Crushed in the chest
Blood tastes like some flavors.

The hurting, the pain
The pain, the hurting
My hands to my chest
The blood's still spurting.

Fears locked away
Locked away fears
Hands pressing eyes
Can't stop the fears.

Hate and anger
Anger and hate
Clawing at the soul
Though I can't stop fate.

Apart flies my thoughts
Thoughts fly apart
If I lose you
There's a hole in my heart.

One fight one fear
One fear one fight
Don't close your eyes
For that long endless night.

A Realization

This has been a really crazy week. So I've come up with a poem that made me realize things. 

Sometimes when I
Stop and think
I realize something.

I realize I was put
On this earth for a
Reason.

That people are
Behind me
For a reason.

That I have
Many doubts and fears
For a reason.

That light and dark
And dark and light
Flash for a reason.

My thoughts fly
Out of control
For a reason.

I want to
Die, cry, lie
For a reason.

Life and death
Exist always
For a reason.

And if we
Lose someone
It's for a reason
We can't begin
To understand.

Life happens
Always happens
For a reason.

The Flow of the city

I'm working with my students on poems about where they grew up. Here's my own street flow. 

The lights of the city welcome
Me with their glow.
Buildings surround me
This concrete jungle I know.
The traffic and sounds soothe
Me with their flow
As I walk the streets
That I so well know.

The people I pass
They don't see me
They hurry off getting
To places they need to be.
It's a mad rush,
Like the hive of a bee,
All shapes and sizes,
A kaleidoscope to see.

I wouldn't trade it
My own corner of the sky
Here is where I grew up
Here is where I'll die.
I travel far
And across the world so wide
But I always wash in here
With the ebb of the tide.

Reflection

After that same person emailed me, I started to think on our relationship. This came to me. 

A joke you played
Makes me smile
A laugh, a pun
I'd run 800 miles.
Just to be
That close to you
And feel you pride
In all I do.

Will I get there?
Can I be close?
A word from you
Will mean the most.

One day perhaps
After a long bend
That day when I
Finally call you friend.

A Merry Amusement

This poem is when a near and dear person to me decided to poke gentle fun at me. 

A joy
A laugh
A freedom
A song
A smile
Some pride
Your pride
Fills me
I'm whole
Complete.

For yesterday and today

Things have been a bit insane so I haven't been able to post as frequently as I'd like. But here are two haikus for yesterday and today. 

Winds blowing, changing
Driving forces transcend me
Hoping to relate.

Thoughts going around
Filling my head and my soul
Driving me insane.

For the past two days

The short Haikus were the only things I could create as my show closed. 

Lights rise in the room.
Anxiety spreads through us
Hoping it will end.

A running last thought
Fills my brain leaving in shards
To painful to think.

Change

So yesterday's poem and the one the day before, was written in the heat of the moment. The big realization turned out to be a big mistake, rather a misunderstanding. Seems this person always shows up when I least expect it at a moment when I need to hear from him the most. 

A turn, a spin
A switch, a change
Emotions unravelled
A changing game.

When I'm on stage
What do you see?
A moment of joy?
Are you proud of me?

No matter what
I do or see
I will always care
About how you look at me.

Will that change?
I don't see how
I love you a lot
Forever and now.

I Should Forget

Thinking of this man makes me reflect on all that I am. And on the pain of rejection that was caused by me thinking too much of him. Here's "I Should Forget."

A sad sort of quiet
Seeps in over me
A realization, a thought
Defining who I will be.

To trust, to love
It takes some time
To have it smashed
Without reason or rhyme.

To hold you up high
To get close to you
A mistake so stupid
And narrow in view.

Your acceptance I long for
But never seem to get
I suppose of this
I should no longer fret.

In you I saw
All I wanted to be,
So proud, so successful
I guess I couldn't see

Past my own blindness
After all, you're only a man
Not a demigod or prince
That would've suited my plan.

I knew I didn't matter
To you much at all,
But praise words from you
Made me feel ten feet tall.

I held each one dear
Close to my heart
To close my open wounds
I thought I'd never start.

I should forget you
Move on through the pain.
Still I think of you fondly
When I hear your name.

Forgetting you
Is the hardest part
After all of the footprints
You've left on my heart.

A surprise

So this poem comes from one of my dear friends and one of my heroes considering coming to a show I'm doing this weekend. I don't know if she'll come or not, but just the fact she is considering it means a ton to me .

Just one night
A balancing act
A tremulant emotion
I'll try not to crack .

I can't believe
After so long
Acknowledgment of my work
She'll see it, right or wrong.  

She's coming to see
The work that I do
A judgement, a snapshot
And a smile too.

I shouldn't be nervous
I really shouldn't fear
I'm sure at worst I'll get
"well done my dear."

But memories still haunt
Of times not long ago
When a tone in her voice
Said things weren't a go.

The fear still exists
The terror all to real
From curtain to curtain
I'm sure I won't feel

Any joy from praise
That comes my way
A light in her eyes
Will be all that's needed to say.

Her expressions I know
Only too well
The wrong one that night
Will send me to hell.

As scared as I am
I'm stoked as well
Just to have her there
Even in my private hell.

A laugh, a smile
That's really all I'll need
To make me relax
And the fear to recede.

For the past two days

So my schedule is hectic, but I am still writing. I will have much more time to write once my play is over. That being said, here are the two poems I wrote in the past two days. The first is a Haiku about my show, the second is a realization that hit me earlier today. 

Bang Bang You're Dead

Rehearsing nightly
Opening looms very near
Excitement unfolds.

A revelation happened to me today when I checked my email box and didn't see the email I was expecting. And haven't seen it for the past several days. So I think in my own little way, I have to make peace with something. 

An idol destroyed
A vision shattered
My life a void
Nothing does matter.

A hole in my heart
So deep within me
The pain, the part
You never will see.

A cleaner break
A thought of me
A word for my sake
You're a huge part of me.

I have worked hard
To make you proud
Your rejection a shard
Your silent message loud.

I'll hide away
A shadowy hall
Thinking of a way
To stop this hard fall.

I'll say goodbye
Nothing's left to say
I'll try not to cry
In this parting of way.

Three new poems!

I've been crazy with rehearsal so I haven't really had a chance to post but here are the three poems I have written. 

Hair
Long and flowing locks
New cuts always feel so good.
Loving it lots.

Flowers
A beautiful scent
Vibrant colors to set sights
Cheering up daily.

Spring
Love is in the air
Flowers are blooming freshly
Scintillating thoughts. 

Education

So I'm on my prep (I'm a teacher) and was just reflecting on a frustrating class. This poem came to me: 

Lost in the dark
Yearning for life
Dark dreary day,
Long endless night.

A struggle intense
A mountain to climb
Confusion immense
A see of unrhyme.

Still I endure
Not accepting defeat
Fight for your
Learning complete.  

The hours I spend
Toiling hard
The facts that I rend
Confusion a shard.

I pierces my soul
Explodes my brain
Reaching my goal
Is immense pain.

Someday you'll get
All that I say
And I won't fret
At the end of the day.

Muses

I was wondering about inspiration and what drives it. Here's a short Haiku about it. 

Muses flock around
Their creativity's near
Wanting to succeed.

For Yesterday

I fell asleep way early yesterday, so here's my poem which is about the theatrical rehearsal process: 

 Bustling on the stage
Frantically going off book
Hoping for the best.

TV

Watching Food Network made me think of this. 

Food makes me hungry
Food Network shows all kinds.
Loves watching all shows.

Friendship

After spending an enjoyable evening with my best friend, this poem came to me. 

Joyous times are few
Friendships blossoming tonight
Love makes hearts so full.

Confusion

A lot has happened over the last couple of days and I have thoughts running through my head, trying to sort things out. I've also been in a Haiku mood (I think because my students are writing them). 

So many feelings
So many thoughts unspoken.
Hoping they'll resolve.

For yesterday

So I had a very late rehearsal yesterday which prevented me from posting my poem. Here it is: 

A Journey
Fast confusing thoughts
Running through my head always
Where will I end up?

Disappointment

This little haiku was written after a crushing disappointment at work. 

Disappointment rips
Ripping my soul into shards
Neverending pain.

Tolling Bells

I found an old design journal of mine and I reread it. This is the poem that came from it. 

Tolling Bells

Tension mounts slowly.

The disappointment in

Your eyes pierces

Me worse then

Any knife blade.

I know what

You want from

Me but I’m

Unable to deliver.

It’s draining me.

I can take

Anger, I can

Take yelling, but

It’s your silence

That cuts me

To the core.

Stoic and Sphinx-like

You stare at

Me, gaze unwavering.

Your mouth is

A hard line.

Gone is the

Warmth and laughs

You’ve shown me.

Instead, it is

Now cold indifference

That I face.

The bells that

Toll In Memoriam

Of our beloved

Department Chair have

Changed the very

Air between us.

Gone is the

Mutual joking, smiles

And general friendliness.

Instead, it’s replaced

By great tension.

Your beautiful choreography

Is marred by

My horrid sound.

Although I push

Myself, I know

You’ll never be

Satisfied with my

Work. Even still,

Because I look

Up to you,

I will continue

To work and

Try to match

Your vision perfectly.

It’s all that

I can do.  

Secrets

Like all of my poems, this one has a great deal of meaning. This was written out of anger when someone I thought I could trust betrayed it. Always a great feeling. But, on the plus side, I did get a pretty good poem out of it, so it's not all bad. 

A secret revealed
Confidence broken
Trust unmoored
Words left unspoken.

Let go of the anger
Or hide the pain.
When the pain stops,
Do scars remain?

Flung World

This poem came as a result for me reflecting on a dance piece I sound designed years ago. It was my fist foray into design work and I had a helluva time with it. These are the reflections some years later. 

flung-world

Drums beating,

Rhythm pounding

Chaos ensues.

Bodies flailing

Hissing echoes,

Droning incessantly.

Sweat flying,

Minds and

Bodies exhausted.

Pounding drums,

Uneven rhythms,

Scalding anger.

Doing nothing,

Can’t fix

My errors.

A slave

To these

Rampant emotions.

Eyes burning,

Ears pounding,

Mind throbbing.

Radiating disappointment,

Dark eyes

Stare straight

Through me.

Chilling, sickening.

I’m hopeless.

Boyfriend can’t

Be seen.

No time.

He listens

As I

Rant constantly.

He smiles,

Says I’m

Doing great.

He doesn’t

Know her.

The anger

Utterly paralyzing

Utterly terrifying.

Music’s dead.

Finally, a

Break through.

Music’s right.

I sigh,

Lean back

And smile.

My boy

Is right.

I’m okay.

Cheryl’s right

Too. It’s

Truly a

flung-world. 

Future

Sometimes when I sit alone in quiet, my brain starts thinking of my future plans and I wonder whether or not I will be successful in them. This is a poem about my success or failure. 

Sometimes I sit here
As the day goes by
And often I wonder
Will I succeed before I die?

So many plans
Go 'round in my head
Will they be accomplished
Before I am dead?

Success and failure
A path I live
Torn between the two
To which do I give?

When I look ahead
What do I see?
Success or failure
Which will it be?

Will all work out
Or will it crash and burn?
The better outcome
Is what I yearn.

No one can say
Which it will be
Whatever outcome
Is chosen for me. 

Soul Saving

On a road trip to South Jersey, this little Haiku popped into my head. I was doing a lot of thinking about life and its meaning. As I was a passenger in the car, I found something extremely liberating in the feeling of the wind in my face. Here is the result. 

Rushing wind blows free
Cleansing my soul, freeing me
Exhilaration. 

The Road Not Taken

This was inspired by me contemplating my life. A short blank verse that came to mind. 

Quickly passing by
Scenery whizzes past
The road often travelled
Full of holes is sometimes
The best and most adventurous
Path.

You can never under estimate
The path most travelled.
Sometimes the most
Familiar of things holds
The deepest of treasures.

The Road Most Taken

This small poem jumped into my head while rollerblading this afternoon. It's called the Road Most Taken because I've realized I don't need new adventures, sometimes the familiar can be its own adventure. 

Quickly passing by,
Scenery whizzing past,
The road often travelled
Full of holes is sometimes
The best and most adventurous
Path.

You can never underestimate
The path most travelled.
Sometimes the most
Familiar of things holds
The deepest of treasures.

Darkness Turns Into Light

So I'm officially doing the 30 poems in 30 days for the month of April. This is my second poem in the challenge. It was inspired by a dear friend of mine saving my lesson for next week by responding to one of my letters. I now have something to model for my students. Sometimes it is the smallest acts that mean the most. 

A long lonely night,
Dark and grim,
Made a bit brighter,
The light a little less dim.

What makes the change
From darkness to light?
From despair to hope
That sparks you to fight?

A friendly face?
The kindest of acts?
The warmth of a hug?
A small loving fact?

Maybe it's all,
Or maybe it's none,
But in your despair
Something reminds you of fun.

Mostly for me,
It's seeing a face
So filled with love
It shines with God's grace.

The hug of a friend,
A gentle hello,
Is the light through the dark
Where alone, you daren't go. 

Why? A poem examining life

A dear friend of mine recently let me know she is seriously ill and I have been contemplating life and how insane it is. I honestly don't know how to deal with the stress of this situation because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it or for her. That being said, I have write this poem entitled "Why?" as a way to explore my stress.

Why? 
Why is there death?
Why not eternal life?
Why so much pain
And far too much strife?

How to we know
The life we live,
Balance the take
With how much we give?

How come our world
Can end on a sigh,
When just one hello
Can end with goodbye?

And how do we know
The life of our soul
Balance good and evil
And achieve our goal?

How can we control
Who touches our life
Who helps us to be
And who helps us to fight?

How do we stop
Our feelings so deep
What ones to let go,
And which ones to keep?

How do we managed
To take pain away
Rid it from love
For more then a day?

And how to we keep
Away the fear,
Of the suffering of someone
We hold most dear?

And why does our
Anguish turn to pain
When crisis hits us
And fear we can't tame?

Why is life
Filled with ups and downs,
Emotions and terrors
Smiles and frowns?

And how to I managed
To always keep hold
Through this thing called life
As events unfold?

A Fighting WIsh

So I've been reflecting a lot on my life and a lot on my career choice. And I keep coming back to the reason I'm enduring all the drama, the chaos and the waiting game--something I despise. And I keep coming back to a certain someone in my life. And why, after everything I've been through, he is still there. And why the hell I still struggle to impress him. So here's "A Fighting Wish."

I stop and wonder
Why I picked you
To guide and teach me
So I'll learn something new.

What was it about you,
Your wit or your charm?
That kept drawing me to you,
Hoping I'd come to no harm.

I let you touch me
In a new, novel way,
I gave you my mind
Then you sent me away.

Blindly I followed you
Through my adult life
Asking you for guidance
Putting up with your strife.

Through the heartache and pain
Knowing you does bring me,
I keep holding out hope
That some day you'll see

How much I strive
For your approval
I toil and struggle
For you ego's removal.

Just look at me,
See what I can do,
Silently I scream it,
Always at you.

I work myself raw
Hoping one day you'll see
The work that I do
And you'll be proud of me.

Waiting

I'm having a very stressful time at the moment with many career choices being up in the air. So this is what I came up with as a way to alleviate the stress. 

The clocks tick,
They decide my fate
No matter how I hate it,
I just have to wait.

The doubts and the fears,
The questions of course too,
Spin round in my brain,
There's little I can do.

I long to stop them,
Their shrieks and their cries,
The doubts cloud my brain,
Fill my head with lies.

The terrifying thing,
There's no end in sight,
These doubts and these fears
Don't die at first light.

Like vampires they suck me
Till my soul is no more,
They still long to feed then,
After my body's dead on the floor.

I scream in silence,
There's nobody there,
No one to save me,
Just still, silent air.

The waiting continues,
Goes on indefinitely,
Through the darks days
Maybe, an end I'll soon see.

A Flash of Time

This was written on the eve of my LIMS graduation. This is probably the best poem I have ever written and one of the few I am emotionally attached to. It's the first time I literally revealed so much of my own emotions in a piece of writing. 

A Flash of Time

By: Kelley A. Blessing

We all traveled here

From both near and far

Reminiscent of wisemen

In search of a star.

We arrived wondering

Of Laban, we knew nothing at all,

But we had the self-knowledge

We were in for the haul.

All of us strangers

Setting a pace

Our companions were alien

In both name and face.

Four young travelers

Beginning a trail,

With wise guardians to guide us

To ensure we don’t fail.

We stood together

Like children that day

Excited but nervous

Until we met K.

K as our guide

Sweet and fun in extreme

Through Basic Body Actions

We sensed Laban’s dream.

Her hand was gentle

And theatrically based

Through Macbeth and mask work

Ourselves, she forced us to face.

As an advisor she was

Brilliant and helped keep me well paced

Using Breath Support and teamwork

We solved problems I faced.

Her energy infectious

Her compassion—no bounds

It was a mutual feeling

Safeness with her around.

Then there was Cheryl

A wise and spirited guide

From anatomy and ourselves

We couldn’t hide.

With wonder she’d show us
Each time something new,

With a smile and gentle coaxing

Ensuring we saw it too.

Her knowledge was boundless

Reflexes and Bauhaus and much in between

With her great sense of humor

She revealed Laban’s dream.

From her, affirmations are few

But, every one I hold near

My heart swelled with pride

At each “well done my dear.”

And Frederick our guide

With such patience and light,

On his shoulders fell

Our complaints of each plight.

With gentleness and care

We were led through each maze

Shedding light in the darkness

After confusing days.

His teaching style was elegant

All of his explanations quite clear

It was apparent to us

Laban’s dream he held dear.

With great observations

And exercises too,

He brought much variety

As we danced in the park and the zoo.

And then there was Mari

Always bright and fun

To learn to connect to ourselves

Well, she was the one

Who taught us to feel

Each others’ energy

And through extreme movement work

She helped us to see

Laban’s theory in motion,

Bringing his work alive.

To see ourselves

With eyes opened wide.

Her warm-ups were awesome

She’d know just what we’d need

And off her energy always,

We seemed to feed.

And then there is John

A kinder man there can’t be,

He always took us traveling

And New York we did see

From upstate at Dia

To skyscrapers at the Met

His teachings were always insightful

From which I’m learning yet.

His lessons always challenged

His feedback detailed excessively

He certainly was the man

Who pushed us to the best that we’d be.

His understanding nature

His always ready ears

To listen to our problems

And alleviate our fears.

Then there was Sook

The knowledge she knew

Always fun in our work

Carnivals, and Improv too.

She helped to really
Access our Shaping

It was her that taught me

The true feeling of Wring.

Inner Outer Connection

She taught us to see

The expressions in people

How they could just be

Reflected through actions

The motivations they had

Her teachings and wisdom

Left us feeling glad.

And last there is Ellen,

Sending luck that first day

Of her knowledge and love

Of this work, there’s much to say.

Her enthusiasm for life

Never does wane

And at times it seemed that

She and Laban, both shared a brain.

She’s funny and caring

Motherly too

Rarely finding fault

Only loving you for you.

She taught us much,

Her work impacted me

For it was through her eyes

Nature’s true beauty I’d see.

Our assistants were there

Persevering through it all

Treating us gently

And padding our fall.

About each other

We really got to know

After all we were together

For the run of this show.

Supportive and fun-loving

And each so bright

Beautiful how we love each other

And a year later we don’t fight.

From projects to coffee

We always had fun

Working together

As if we were one.

There’s Juliana

So grounded and sincere,

When helping you with theory

There’s nothing you’d fear.

Then there’s Diana,

So light hearted and free

Making us laugh

And our Effort to see.

And then there is Mel,

So sweet and sincere

With BF she helped us

And held us all dear.

That leaves one person

Perhaps the hardest to see

Beneath the knowledge and experience

I guess that person’s me.

I don’t know what to feel

What to think or say

I just know this one year

Seems like merely a day.

All the times I have laughed

The times that I’ve cried too

The information, people, the love

It’s made me born anew.

I feel more intensely

My observations much more keen

This year and this program

Have exceeded my wild’est dream.

Our futures are open

But what will they hold?

A success story for each

I’m sure will be told.

Thinking back now

It’s just plain to see

That our friendship and love

Was destined to be.

Like waves in the ocean

That continue to flow

Let’s not say goodbye,

But let’s end with hello.

Modern Dance Midterm

This poem was written on March 1, 2007 after my Dance Two mid-term. The "Master" as quoted below is our dance instructor, a very talented woman and someone I look up to as a dance hero. It was my first reaction to her rather grueling midterm. We all danced our asses off and were way too tired to move afterwards. That being said, my brain thought not in terms of exhaustion but in terms of poetry.  

Modern Dance Mid-Term
Rippling muscles,
Combinations across
The floor. Strong beat,
Drums like metronomes.
Bodies rolling,
Diving to the black
well-worn dance floor.

Red light flashes,
Camera recording
Each move dancers make.
A faint whisper sounds
From behind the
Ever watching lens.
The master counts

Ensuring dancers
Do not stray from
The ever pounding
Rhythmic drum line.

Her eyes are seeing
More then the lens.
Music is her soul.

Sweat falls off the
Quivering muscles
Belonging to
The very spent
Modern dance students.

Lungs suck in air,
Panting dancers stare

At the camera,
Waiting for some kind
Of approval.
She smiles, nods and
Says: "Nice ladies."
The dancers smile,
They've succeeded.

RIP Joe

Drew's theatre department recieved tragic news six years ago, on  March 10, 2007 when we were informed that our beloved Head of the Department, Joe Patenaude, passed away. This poem is my response to hearing the tragic news. Since it's been six years this month, and since I find myself thinking of Joe more and more often this month, with the new whirlwind changes in my life, I decided to post this here. If it wasn't for Joe I never would have been a theatre major, so he's was a pretty big force in my life.  

Whirlwind
Shock.
Confusion.
Pain.
Then
Absolute
And utter
Numbness.

Hands shaking,
Mouth too dry
to speak.
Heart pounds
In grief.

Realization hits.

Never hear
Your jokes
In the
Theatre Wing
Again.
Never see
You smile
Or hear
Your laugh.

No longer
Will you
Kid, cajole,
Rib or
Advise us.

No longer
Will our
Department
Thrive under
Your dedicated
And extremely
Loving hand.

You have

Died and
Left this
Cold world.
But do
Not fear.
Although
You are
No longer
Among the
Living, you
Will never
Be forgotten.

Forever, you'll
Live on
In our hearts
And in
The DOYO.

RIP Joseph Patenaude

Dancing Through Life

 This is a work in progress that has highlighted all the high points I could think of in my life today.  I still have to add LIMS and Drew Grad School. That will be done eventually, when I feel inspired. Although Drew grad school was such an emotional roller-coaster that it might need its own poem. So too, might the one for LIMS.  

The cold bricks

The colorful rug

Light blue dress

Black backpack over

Thin shoulders.

Warm hand clutching

Smaller, sweaty one.

Tears glisten in Mama’s eyes,

A new chapter of life begins.

Black checkered pants,

Red long sleeved shirt,

Shiny black shoes

Reflect peoples’ faces.

Microphone seems big,

Held in a tiny hand.

A book held, young eyes

Scan the text. Words

She had written sound big

From such a small voice.

Mama tries not to cry.

Her baby grew up a little.

Dogs bark, fur flying,

Puppies running all about.

Eyes shine bright, warm

Fur against soft skin.

Two hearts beat together in

Excitement.

Mama smiles.

First responsibility occurs.

Hands warm hands.

Popcorn smells heavenly,

Mixed with fresh scent

Of cologne. Hands shake,

Brush against each other,

Popcorn flies.

End credits roll,

Nervous hugs goodnight.

Mama smiles, first group

Date. 

Little girl out

With little boy.

Sore muscles, sweat

Pours off skin.
Dirty, muddy shoes and

Clothes.

Boys and girls.

Colonge mixed with

Mud and sweat.

Bodies nervously sway

To music.
Eyes lock,

Music swells.

Love for the first time

Found at camp dance?

I like you…I like like you…

I like like you too.

So…want to be my girlfriend?

Sure!

Mama laughs. Her daughter’s

In a “relationship.”

Gowns itch,

The start whiteness of

The robe, a huge contrast

To the maroon sash.

Names are called, nervous

Legs carry a nervous girl to

The stage.
Mama smiles and cries.

Her daughter “graduated”

From middle school with honors.

Itchy, grey kilt.

Grey socks slide down

From knees.

Shiny black shoes,

White polo shirt.

Heart pounds in chest,

New faces swarm around,

All the girls are nervous.

How will high school be?

Simple dress,

Blonde hair down

And pretty.

Principal, Sister Suzanne,

Speaks, words jumble together.

The coveted ‘L’ pin.

The recipient’s name is

Called.

Ears roar from applause.

Knees nearly give way from

Newborn calf unsteadiness

Heading to the stage.

Mama cries, her freshman won.

Snow white suit,

Matching white boots.

Blond hair down, glasses on.

Long, nimble fingers

Caress the ivory keys,

Tickling out strands of

Bach.

New class ring glints

In the light.

Mama smiles.

Her baby’s playing brings

Tears to her eyes.

Her baby’s now an

Upper classman.

Actors and actresses

Backstage, different world.

A dressing room, plain in everyway

except inside there’s a star.

Speechless—her favorite actor.

Mama laughs at the retelling.

Doorbell rings

Skateboard in hand,

Young boy at door.

“Hey.”

Mama smiles, her baby’s first

Date.

Hard work paid off.

Honors night again.

Another dress,

Another cold chair.

NHS inductions.

Names are called.

Legs approach the stage,

A delirious grin on face.

Mama smiles and is

So proud.

Check in hand,

Microphone is there.

Heart pounds

A nervous tattoo against ribs.

Too jumpy to eat,

Stomach rolls about.

Time to speak.

Voice slightly shaky,

Hands rigidly at sides.

Check handed over,

A warm embrace, tears

Are shining in eyes.

Two unlikely friends,

Helping each other.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t cry.”

A charity is helped.

Long white gown,

A simple red rose.

High heels sink into grass.

Hands shake.

A poem is read, in a less then

Steady voice. The words

Blur together through tears,

But the voice continues.

Mama tries to hold back

Tears but can’t

A new chapter in

Her baby’s life—a

Closing and an opening—

High school graduation.

Car packed, no free space

To sit. Wheels strain

Against the weight.

Heavy lifting, cursing,

Laughing. Gentle humor

Exchanged, overriding

The veritable avalanche of

Emotion bubbling below

The surface.

Mama tries not to cry,

Her girl’s happy but she’s slightly

Sad. Four years of college.

Another new chapter of life begins.

Heat. Whiskers scraping,

Heated skin, hands shaking

As they caress each other.

Teeth and tongue exploring.

Mama doesn’t need to know

About this first make-out session

In the car.

Anger, frustration,

Voice yelling, tears

Threatening to spill.

Fevers racing, embarrassment

Fills the soul.

Trying to keep mouth shut.

Later, sound design gets done

And awarded.

“You did it.” First kind word

from her. A glimmer of

Pride starts to grow.

“I love you.”

“I love you too my love.”

Soft words spoken in a

Cab in a foreign place.

Time stops, lips brush together.

Later, bodies entwine,

Swaying and dancing to

Primitive rhythms.

Love, bliss, Heaven.

“I’m very proud of you my dear,”

A hero says. A success,

A rare time in a life.

A warm embrace hides a

Delirious grin. Mama

Smiles too, she’s also proud

Of her baby’s achievement in

Choreographing a scene.

Love grows, love dies

Much like the winter snow.

Bliss grows old,

People change.

Pain, distrust,

A God becomes a mortal,

A man a devil.

The end looms,

A chapter longs to close.

A ball of fur,

A coal black nose,

Wet pink tongue.

So many hopes pinned

On you. Will you, little pup,

Succeed?

Crash and burn

Emotional slide

Fabric of life rips.

One becomes two.

Mama cries too

But is there to pick of the

Pieces. Her baby will

Find a better man.

Muscles straining,

Tempers flair.

Choreography is shit.

Mama listens and nods,

Understandingly. “You’ll

Figure it out.”

Lights, yellow, orange red

Shine on sweat slicked

Dancers.

Heart thumps in choreographer’s

Chest, keeping rhythm with the

Moving feet. The final

Pose is hit.

Whispering amongst the

Classmates, the director, the

hero. Affirmations are

Heard. She nods but says

Nothing.

Tech drags on. Lights dim,

A blue backpack slung

Over a well-formed shoulder.

A hero exits, but suddenly

Reenters.

Soft hand land on shoulder,

Faces turn toward each other.

The hero smiles.

“Good work, very good work.”

She’s gone before a response

Can be formulated.

Mama will be so proud.

Red lights blaze,

Blinding all.

Heart races,

But not from the dance.

A lift, well executed—

There! In the audience,

She’s crying…a hero is crying.

The dance is finished—no knowledge of

How. The show’s over.

Faces blur from behind tears.

A hand, soft and gentle—

“I read what you wrote.

I’m so touched. Thank you.”

A smile forms, a quick embrace.

Mama knows her baby’s hero is proud

And so is she.

Behind the make-up,

The drunken laugher,

Trepidation runs wild.

The cowardly lion was

A smart choice. Courage

Is needed to get through this.

She gets up, a woman whom

Is idolized. Two sets of brown

Eyes meet across a filled theatre.

“Kelley is a competitive ballroom

Dancer,” she begins, “But she’s

Never been competitive here.”

Tears blur, make-up runs.

The hero has spoken. “I’ll

Leave you with a final affirmation”

But the ears don’t hear. They’re too

Filled by the pounding pulse.

The hero is finally proud.

Formal dress pants,

A white shirt,

Hot beneath the heavy

Black academic robe.

The mortarboard is awkward—

Tilting and falling.

Mama fusses till the last

Moment.

Names are called,

Heels pound against the stage.

Diploma is hard against the skin.

Mama has never been more proud—

Her baby graduated college.