A lollipop! Or to get this song out of my head. Lollipop, Lollipop, Oh Lolli Lolli ... Lollipop, Lollipop ... Yes, I definitely want the song out of my head.

I am not Ray Bradbury.

I am not Jane Austen.

I am not Thomas Howe. (He's really good, by the way.)

I am not Mary anybody, or anybody's Mary.

So, yeah. Nobody is counting down to Armageddon.

I'm just weird, so Zaadz is the place for me. 

I am not Kim Stanley Robinson either. That's a huge bummer.

I am not Ani Difranco, or Utah Philips, or Andrew Byrd, or Sara Lee.

They're all really inspiring, too. So, everyone that wants credit has it, and everyone that doesn't want credit doesn't have it.

My heart feels weird. I hope I'm not freaking myself out again. Whatever. I just need to stick with my routine.  Routine. Routine. Routine. Routine. Thank you, LaTonia.

P.S. I still know that's not my name.

I'm really into pickles lately. What is that about? I wonder if becoming a pickle is like the Cumcumber Dream.

Maybe it's that word if warning, like all the big cucumbers say to all of the baby cucumbers, "Make sure you stay off the sauce. You don't wanna end up a pickle like your uncle Bumpregard! Just say no to vinegar, that stuff kills."

Or something. Just wondering.

It is so funny the things that you come to appreciate. It is so strange that helping with the laundry can feel like making love. It is so different that it means something when you snuggle up. I feel so blessed to be a part of a partnership. It feels so good to be valued as more than something pretty, more than something comforting. It feels good to feel like me again. I didn't know how much I missed trusting someone enough to let go of being in control. I had forgotten what being in love meant. It is so much more than a stomach flip.

Today is Mother's Day. It was Marcy's first. I am officially the last woman in my family without children. It feels weird. It doesn't feel weird, like, I want a baby weird. It just feels weird, I'm not in the club weird. We had a barbecue at Phil's house. It was the first family event orchestrated by me, and it went off really well. The food was amazing! I never knew my Dad had such a way with a grill. Marcy, and Pauline, and Mama, and Tat were all showered with love like no other. Everyone got a chance to see the babies. Fonz mostly played with his dog who he was SO happy to have along. Then at the end everyone pitched in to get the place looking clean again, packed up their doggy bags, and headed off out into their life knowing how much they are loved. I really love my family. Oh, and side note, I got to wear a REALLY pretty dress that matched perfectly with my new favorite shoes. I felt pretty today.

I have been spending a lot of time on Zaadz discussing my beliefs and my writing with some incredible people. I do quite a bit more reading than writing, but it seems to balance itself out. I even have a sort of pen pal who wants to discuss Conversations with God (which I barely remember reading) with me to see where our beliefs are different, where they are the same, and just have one of those loving, accepting, always blows me out of the water kind of conversations. I am looking forward to it quite a bit. I have returned to my favorite online poetic community to find it very much altered. The format, the guidelines are altered, but the people feel as much like home as ever. I still have not posted anything new. An event in which I get hurt very badly is usually followed by a way too long period of extreme caution. I am trying to break out of that. I am doing some things to get me out of my comfort zone. The last thing that I want is to walk around making decisions out of fear for the next two years.

The Air Force is fast approaching. I am going to need a lot of prayer.....Also, I need to get up off of my lazy ass, and get ready. I keep thinking about it. No thinking, thinking is my enemy when it comes to the Air Force. I need much, much less thinking, and much, much more doing. Here I am still trying to think it into submission. I am silly. So, this is life.

poetic pretender
trying, begging, falling
into a confession
No choice
No change
still pretending
redemption just missed
a retreat into laughter
all beauty and smiles
a poetic pretender

Large, almond-shaped and honey-filled
Set in mulatto latte skin
Sugar in hard clear crystals, her
Smile of rock candy peppermint

A boyish face and manly hands
His sweet tooth hidden in his smile
Skin like the crust of pot pie
Hinting, comfort food for a while

Solid sweetness melts in his mouth
Holding softness in his hands
They are both all sticky now
Honey begins to understand

She fills his pot with her sweet
Soft little sandwiches, no crusts,
Made with peanut butter, honey,
And thick sticky marshmallow fluff.

Standing in a brand new kitchen
Asking “Where's the steak?”
Honey holds up her sandwiches
Hoping he'll take them, for her sake.

The topping to his fudge sundae
naive concerns and petty fears
Almonds turned to little slivers
are lightly salted with her tears

His sweet tooth turned to cavity
The very thing that drew him in
Black and rotting for all to see
A stain on his smile saccharine

Hard plastic underneath him now
White gloves and drill replace her taste
The Novocain can't numb the pain
Of all the time, the gourmet waste

 

Okay, I still don't have a good ending for this one. So, I am leaving it as it is. Suggestions?

new day and running water

almost out of cleanser
shake shake squeeze
damn

the hair she spent an hour straightening
tucked behind an elfin ear
she takes another drag
fish lips suckle the teat
of her only substance addiction

addicted to substance

a sigh of smoke
as an old man approaches
“you're too pretty to be smokin'”
another drag as he passes
forgetting the moment

her eyes shiver closed
and she's in her land of dreams
where crooked yellow smiles
don't taunt young girls, forgetting

in this place
poets and painters
pepper the sands with possibilities
on beaches lighted by awareness

little men come every other day
to scrape the red out of the eyes
so every one can see clearly
all the world's pretty lies

ten nineteen
eighty one cents is your change
the clerk commands
that she have a good day

running water
cleansed face
another cigarette
a new day

I thought about this more when I was in school than I did about anything I was supposed to be learning. I remember wanting very badly to combat some of the hypocrasy and plain stupidity of education as an institution by starting a student-lead grassroots movement that demanded a real and exciting education. To my surprise and horror the majority of students that I talked to either saw nothing that needed to be fixed or did not care enought to try. These were the leaders of tomorrow! I was discouraged to the point of quitting. Although I never quit dreaming.

So, assuming that I have unlimited resources, and all of my teachers are just what they ought to be this is what it would look like logistically. With a maximum class size of 30, and 3-4 classes per "grade" there would be a maximum of 1440 students with 48 full-time student advocates (or teachers, whatever you would like to call them) for each school (because, of course, my idea is so wonderful that it would be widely adopted everywhere). Each class would consist of children ranging in ages up to three years apart. A teacher would learn, love, and grow with one class throughout the whole of their 13 year education to give the teacher ample time to get to know and advocate for each and every one of their students.

Every single student would have an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) that would be created and executed with the input of the student advocate, the parents, and the student equally. Because of the great deal of diversity, and the closeness of quarters of all the students in one class it may be found that students learn very well without being 'taught' out of daily discussions and debates participated in by all. Very regular field trips will be suggested by and planned and executed with the participation of the students (as they can plan freely, knowing that they will all still be together year after year). There will be an air of responsibility and accountability for each student.. If a student wants to go to and get prepared for college it will be integrated into their IEP, which will be revamped once a year, and reviewed every six months to make sure that it continues to serve the best interests of the student.

Student Advocates will be paid in such a way that will make it possible for them to live comfortably without having to look for other sources of income so as to make it possible for them to give all of their energies and excitement to the development and love of each student. Students will treat each other with love and respect, not because they are taught that it should be so, but because they will be taught from an early age the real value of their counterparts, and naturally will respect others as a result of knowing how important and deserving they all are.

The day to day experience of each student will comprehend a feeling of coming home upon entering the classroom, and will include daily independent study, class discussions, guest speakers from the community, and a time set aside specifically for them to learn from and support each other in their studies. Teachers will serve more as guides and advocates than proffessors and diciplinaries.

All of this will result in a generation that is well prepared for both work, and life outside of work. A generation with a conciousness that is bigger than themselves, and a mind to make the world better than it was when they got here.

It seems I have gotten a bit carried away. I just get so excited about a system of education that ceases to stiffle those that it purports to be teaching, and fosters love and knowledge in a way that can only improve the world as a whole.