From Kate Rawlings
You can’t make me wake up and prepare for the day,
through threats or rewards or anything you say.
You can’t make me study for the quiz or the test,
you can’t make me pay attention and do my best.
But you can nicely inquire about the songs I like,
or invite me out to to shop, see a movie or a hike.
Because building a union based on sincerity
will lead to a life full of jocularity
for you as well as for me.
X is for Xeriscape*
Succulents and needles,
Sand and stone,
In this arid land
I’m not alone
Quail eggs, scorpion and snake on the floor
Wren, dove, and hummingbird above
All of us move unruffled and unrushed
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
*Part of my alphabiography series
Photo by Frida Bredesen U is for Untamed*
With pen and paper (or laptop),
my mind navigates savage places
– unauthorized and shady –
– limitless, immense and vast –
at my desk, in the still of solitude,
I am fierce and wild
*part of my alphabiography series
Photo by Sebastian Unrau P is for Poetry**
My passion for poetry is positively preposterous
delicate design of discourse,
imagination, inspiration and impact,
I’m in awe: affectionately and alliteratively amazed
*Ralph Waldo Emerson
**Part of my alphabiography project
Photo by Toby Marshman L is for Ligament
In a split second – the bond is ruptured
an accident, a mishap, a casualty
first, shock, then pain
this disconnect of parts
autografts are best
Rainer Maria Rilke 1900
“If your everyday life seems poor to you, do not accuse it; accuse yourself, tell yourself you are not poet enough to summon up its riches; since for the creator there is no poverty and no poor or unimportant place.”
Rainer Maria Rilke
I recommend reading
Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke. This book is a collection of letters 27-year-old Rilke wrote to a 19-year-old cadet who was seeking guidance and feedback on his poetry.
His book will ground you and connect you to the true beauty of creating art…of being an artist. He reminds us that the beauty is in expressing our true selves through our craft, not in expecting fame or money.
Rilke died at 51, a successful novelist and poet.
A belated (if there ever could be such a thing) Teacher Appreciation gift given to me today by one of my most
6th graders. eccentric
One of my favorite poems thus far:
“Secrets” is a daily word
Yet does not exist –
Muffled – it remits surmise –
Murmured – it has ceased –
Dungeoned in the Human Breast
Doubtless secrets lie –
But that Grate inviolate –
Goes nor comes away
Nothing with a Tongue or Ear –
Secrets staped there
Will emerge but once – and dumb –
To the Sepulchre –
That this student could appreciate great works such as this and create her own thoughtful writings makes my heart optimistic!