Just Me

Just Me

They look to me to teach them.

Some of them truly believe

That i am wiser than others they know,

That i am more than “just me”

I’m hoping that i can show them

That there is so much more

Than making an “A” for their captain.

More than just a good score.

And what of that old lady begging?

Could my spare change possibly be

A way to show her how my Jesus loves

Beggars like her, fools like me?

I’m hoping that someone will stand here

By my side so we can be strong.

But even if i’m an Outsider alone,

I will never stop singing Your song

So if i try to love like You do,

Then perhaps i can be

A little more than simply a fool

And something more than “just me”

Poor Little Doggies

I heard some barking dogs today
As if someone did mistreat
But when I got home and kicked off my shoes
I realized it was my feet!

Oh Hong Kong! You are lovely!
But I had been misled!
Nike swore those shoes were nice,
But alas! my feet are dead.

Look at me! I'm not in shape
(unless that shape is round)
And all this walking everyday
My soles it did confound.

But through all this sweating and all this pain
And gritting my teeth like that,
Perhaps someday I will look and see
That I am no longer FAT!

Incense for Nobody

I was walking without a care
when I saw her squatting there
beside a fire she had made
as if to try and make a trade
for blessings from a man long since dead.

The aroma of incense in the air,
one she didn't mean to share
to the passerby on the street,
but was hoping she might meet
some sign from the man long since dead.

Wanting to be enlightened
though I'm sure that she was frightened
so she said her many prayers
for surely Buddha really cares
even though he is a man long since dead.

Someday, maybe I can show
her a dead man that I know
for He is dead no longer
and is certainly much stronger
than the other man long since dead.

Mind the Gap

"mind the gap"
the sign said
we must watch where we
place our feet

I did mind the gap
stepped right over it
onto the platform
and deeper into my city

I stepped off the train
swallowed in a mass of humanity
speaking words
I would never understand

as we move about our lives
there are places of danger
where a false step could
injure or kill

open the Book and see...

"mind the gap"
the sign says
we must watch where we
place our feet

Declaration of a Small-Town Christian

"Turn or burn, you lousy sinner!
Yes, I'm talking to you!
God is going to strike you down-
     You and your filthy, perverted ways.
We don't like them gays, and we won't tolerate them in our church!
You better get Jesus - like me.

Look what it says right here in the Bible,
    God's Holy Word.
It says right here:  "A new command I give you,
LOVE ONE ANOTHER."

Wait a minute.  That isn't the verse I was looking for.
How about this one: "LOVE YOUR ENEMIES."

No, no.  That isn't the one I was looking for either.
I know there is a verse in here somewhere about God hating
sinners like you.

"WHATEVER YOU DO UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE,
YOU HAVE DONE UNTO ME."

The Bible just isn't saying what I want it to say right now...
But it's in there.
So...
Get Jesus like me."

I wonder why no one is getting saved in this town?

Bigger Plan

She meant no disrespect.

There was only pain of loss.

“Where were you?”

                           she cried.

“If you had been here…”

His eyes took in everything.

Earth.  Sky.  Death.

The last was not meant for

for the brother she lost.  or anyone else.

                           He cried.

She knew who he was.

Had seen and heard the signs.

She had called.  He did not come.

Not soon enough.

“Your brother will rise again.”

Death was never meant to be the final answer.

Its icy fingers would be broken, she knew.

Someday.

Messiah?  Of course He is. 

Such word carries ramifications beyond imagination.

He says:

“I am the Resurrection and the Life.”

Who talks like this?

What could it mean?

She had loved Him so.

Her sister had too.

“The Teacher is here.”

Mary came running.  She loved being near Him.

Even when grieving.

How wonderful a miracle it would have been

to remove the disease, cure the hurts, restore health.

He had done so before, for strangers

         but now…  dashed hope

It is too much to bear to see the stone moved.

Leave him to his rest.

Then a voice,

the same voice

that set planets to spinning, suns to burn, oceans to gather

spoke again:

“Lazarus!  Come Out!”

LOL

LOL

God must be busy.

I tried calling several times

                  -  straight to voicemail.

Maybe he is screening his calls.

He does have a universe to run.

Maybe my hurts, pains, and worries

are trivial and mundane.

Why won’t he call me back?

Waiting.

Waiting.

I picked up that leather book in order to

pass the time.

What is this?

The longest text message ever!

How did I miss that?

More Than a Tree

More Than a Tree

I tried to write a poem about a tree one day

Even though I knew it was cliché.

I wanted to talk about roots that run deep

Beside a river that never sleeps.

About storms that come to rage and blow,

And broken branches under heavy snow.

I wanted to write with intricate rhymes

About beautiful days and difficult times.

And how through drought and floods it still firmly stands

Still catching the sunlight with leafy hands.

Bent, but not broken, day after day

Refusing to stop lifting arms to pray.

I wanted to write about a tree,

Turns out, I was writing about me.

The Gate

The Gate

Many hundreds walking shoulder to shoulder

passed through the illuminated, gold-colored gate.

They wore the same smile and gleam in the eye

that comes from being captain of one’s own fate.

But off to the side of the road stood a boy

watching the crowds like sheep walk by.

He imagined there was nothing of value

and the gate was naught but a pretty lie.

Not sure where to go, he turned and saw

a man in the trees heading his way.

His steps were steady, his steps were light,

though two crossed beams on his shoulders lay.

The man said, “I know of a gate that is different

and much smaller than the one that you see.

And I know the owner who welcomes the weary,

And there is none who is greater than He.

The boy did follow and never looked back

nor did he worry about what it might have cost.

He listened closely and knew it was the truth

the things told him by the man with the cross.

The Gate was narrow.  Only one at a time

could go through, and the Master welcomed him home.

Then the boy was instructed to go and find more

and was then given a cross of his own.

That cross, it was heavy though he didn’t complain

for his footsteps and heart gladly took the weight.

And his mission in life was to carry that cross

and show other travelers the Way to The Gate.

Walking

Walking

Walk by my side

I will not be looking back

As we follow the iron rails

On the wood between the tracks.

We had tried to love,

The city left behind,

But the words rang hollow

In their locked-down minds.

So we carry these belongings

(what few that remains us)

With a Story to tell

And a Faith that sustains us.

Somewhere up ahead

Is a whole different place

Where they love a good story

And won’t spit in our face.

For I’m weary of people

Who share the same Name

Fighting each other;

They should be ashamed.

So I go to a place

With a Story to tell,

To make family from strangers,

Drinking Life from the Well.

Empty

Empty

The lamp was only bright enough

to illuminate her and the letter.

A surrounding orb – its own universe.

The paper, ink, and tears mingled and

wrinkled

blotted

warped the words.

Hated words, loving words.

Eventually –

         no more words

         tears run dry

         love goes cold

         and the lamp turns off.

Big Fish

Big Fish

Well, aren’t you the righteous one?

Gave the bum a dollar

How impressive

Go to that big church on the hill

That’s a nice suit you’re wearing

Drop that fat check in the plate

Don’t that make you feel all good inside?

No one is fooled

You slanderer

You murder with your forked tongue

Your fake god is so impressed

But the real God knows what you are

And so do I

Big fish

Little pond

The ocean doesn’t care about you

A Walk Through My Mind

A Walk Through My Mind

Going around the block.

This street used to be inviting -

now it is run down, dilapidated. 

Crumbling walls and cracked sidewalks.

Time was when I could walk through here

and feel safe

enjoying the scenery.

It isn’t safe nowadays. 

Easy to get lost.

What a shame – that house used to have love in it.

And over there, one could always go to relax.

The respectable neighbors moved away a long time ago –

Joy, Reason, Beauty, Faith.

It started when Heartbreak moved in down the street.

There goes the neighborhood

Next thing you know, Doubt and Anger

were yelling at the little kids

“Keep off the grass!”

Keep out-

you might get hurt

Destruction, Resconstruction

Destruction, Reconstruction

Idols always break the hearts of

                  those worshipping them.

And though I know this to be true,

I find myself bowing again,

                  and not before You.

Then I dare to feel surprised – though not for long

For soon comes shame.

It is the type of shame that comes when you

                  knew all along what would happen.

Shame of the foolish – the most bitter.

I smashed the idols again, though deep inside

                  I know, I know.

They will be rebuilt by my hands.

And I will bow.

And know shame again.

Love and Matches

Love and Matches

I built myself a fireproof house

with fireproof walls.

Just in case, I had fire exits

installed.  Extinguishers.

Detectors with alarms.

Useless.

I was more than happy

to swim in her gasoline

and hand her my matches.

American Slumber

American Slumber


The apparitions appearing to a slumbering conscious


upon seeing the light of the morning, of truth

          fade


         away


                                      These dreams move fast


my dreams


your dreams


our dreams


Dreams of things unimportant


digital dreams, on the web


on our phones that are smarter than we are


we move so fast in these dreams – but the reality


the reality


our souls sleep, unmoving


we sleep through the fire alarms of our burning houses


thinking the dreams are real until 


reality

             fades

                  away

Rant #1

Statewide testing for 10th and 11th grade was today.  Why?

Because like all other laws of the land, it was created because there were some really awful people doing something in a very awful way, and ruined it for the rest of us.

Without a doubt, there are some really bad teachers out there.  Kids can't read, they can't add.  I had a child ask me what continent Australia was on.  (If you don't know the answer to that, you are proving my point)  So I understand where the geniuses in Austin are coming from.  There has to be accountability somewhere, right?  Here is the problem:  When I was in high school (not THAT long ago), we had standardized tests.  The purpose of them was to see what we, the students, knew.  Today, the questions on these tests are worded purposefully to trip up the students.  The reason for that is because they are no longer trying to see what the students know, they are trying to see what they DON'T know.  That way, they can flush out teachers who aren't doing what they want.

This is so backwards.

So all the geniuses of education get together and come up with their "new" ideas of how students in this day and age need to be taught.  Meanwhile, the children are getting more dumb by the day.  Something isn't working.  The childhood education "experts" have got to be doing something wrong.

The other day, I saw a quote by one of these experts on Twitter.  He said that different students have reasons for not completing assignments, and that we must find out what those reasons are.

Seriously?

I don't know why they might choose to not do an assignment, but I sure can give a good reason why they should.  If they do not, they will fail my class.  How about that?  Or how about because if I give an assignment, it is disrespectful to me if they do not do it.  Ok, ok.  That was two reasons.  But let's be honest, there are always reasons to NOT be responsible.  But now we are supposed to get into the psyche of the child and figure out why?

This will save you some research, "expert."  THEY ARE CHILDREN!  That is all the reason you need.  Our job is to educate.  Their job is to resist.  They WANT to be held accountable.  My students LOVE me.  It isn't because I'm funny, and it is certainly not because my class is easy.  It is because they know that I care about them enough to MAKE them do what I know is best.  And so, with no gimmicks, and no hippie, touchy-feely tricks, I teach English.  And they learn.

Time to get back to basics.  Forget making them like you.  Make them work hard.

They will love you for it.

English Teacher's Poem

The following poem took a long time to write.  It includes references to several popular writers, all of whom I suggest you read.  Langston Hughes, George Orwell, Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451), and the venerable Robert Frost (The Road Not Taken).

It was written on the heals of teaching Bradbury's classic, "Fahrenheit 451."  I strongly recommend reading that book.  If you do, you will realize that you need to read everything you can, before they come and burn our books... sooner than you think.

Going, Going, Gone

Why are people ok with ok?

Mediocrity is the new excellence.

Extraordinary was tossed into a dumpster

like an unwanted baby

wrapped in a dirty blanket.

forgotten

left for dead

I dreamed once that someone stood

for something.

That someone younger than I

finally had enough of

the meaningless and mundane.

began to seek beauty

truth

What a dream to wake from

Sorry Robert.

We chose the wrong road.

The worn-down path of the downtrodden

and worthless

for the sake of entertainment.

Sorry George.

We stopped writing well.

Now they think for us –

Hollywood and the corporations

the government –

(of the people and for the people?

I am beginning to think not)

Sorry Langston.

We had to find a different dream to defer

A dream of excellence and free-thinking

shriveling like a raisin

sagging like a heavy load

Sorry Mr. Bradbury.

We took the shot from the weapon

And once this explodes

I fear there will be no one to quote Milton

or Ecclesiastes this time.

Looking for You

Looking for You




I think I’ll hit the road
 I could drive to Mexico
in a rusted-out Buick
with a dog hanging his head 
out the window
Or maybe Canada
I might see a moose
or a bear
It does not really matter where I might go
if the road leads to you

Belief

In the spirit of honesty, this poem comes from a time in my life when I was struggling.  Yeah, it happens.  I have learned that God is ok with doubts.  He is big enough to handle our mess.  So don't judge me, we all have those seasons of trial.  And by the way, I eventually heard.




Belief


I wanted to believe in people
until I met a few.
I believed in love once
until she lied to me.
I believed in friendship once
until I was betrayed.
I believed in family once
until loved ones began to die.
I believed in religion once
but I could not stomach the fake.


All that is left to believe in is God.
I lifted my head and asked the sky, “do you hear me?”
I am still waiting for an answer…

Among the Trees

This poem was written after teaching a lesson about being a tighter community of believers.  I was inspired by the idea of us Outsiders being so tightly knit together that our Message would be CAUGHT rather than just TAUGHT.  We join to become one... like the forest.


Among the Trees


One tree does not make a forest.
Many join to form the one
With leafy hands stretched toward the sun
From the richest to the poorest.


At distance they all seem the same
Together sway, together bend
In sync with the rising wind.
Though one, each remembers his name.


One morning here I saw the Truth
While deep inside this living church
Of maple, pine, oak, and birch.
The Savior lives, and here is proof.


We found our Destiny, Hope, and Peace
Planted together, stalwart and strong, 
Hands raised high, singing His song,
Here among the other trees.