Poems for Fathers III

The Worst

I am a part of a man

That I can call dad

But I never get to see again

And the old pictures

That I can hardly remember.

It started at home

You can hear the crying

And screaming.

The door slamming

And the car starting.

Mom grabbing

And running,

Knocking and asking

If we can stay.

The long night with no sleep.

Waking up,

And walking to the bus stop.

Up the long gravel road,

Seeing dad's truck not there.

At school thinking,

Where is he.

After a long day at school.

Getting off the bus,

And walking down,

The creepy road,

Seeing the house

At the bottom of the hill.

Coming home and seeing

My family is all in black.

People crying and looking,

Mom is nowhere to be found.

Wanting to know

Where my father is,

Mom walking up

And saying, "Matt,

Your dad is dead."

-Matthew

Dad

Your tan face, your dark brown eyes

That dusty old Kentucky hat

That you always wore.

The gray hair on your prickly black beard

The strength you got from a couple bottles of beer.

The time you would get so drunk

You claimed we didn't love you.

The day you walked out the door-

The day I hardly remember.

Gone

Not knowing where you went.

The last roar of the dirty green truck's engine.

Built up dirt falling off the back.

That last petty kiss

That didn't seem to mean anything to you.

The times I cried when I heard your voice-

The sorrow I felt in my heart.

The times I won't remember you

The times you'll forget, too.

-Patricia

Poems About Leaving Home

Now We're Gone

Memories of the chatter of the dogs barking,

As the groaning engine was trying to start,

This was it, the last straw,

The last glimpse, grip,

The last inhale of atmosphere,

The very last echo.

The last thing I remember,

The [taste] of the Cool Water cologne,

The glimpse of Daddy before we left

As his embrace strangled me,

The murmur of "I love you Daddy"

Tingled my heart as always,

Before his hard day at work.

As we drove out of the driveway,

My heart was choking,

I knew that it was the end,

And I didn't do anything about it.

We will never go back,

This was it.

-Jessica

Leaving

That day is engraved in my head.

I remember my Tonka truck. My jeep.

I remember packing. Everything.

Then we loaded up

We passed the store on the corner

Where we always bought fruit and candy.

We passed the mango tree

I ate off every day.

The airport got bigger and bigger.

Deeper and deeper

Until a metal bird ate me.

In a second I saw nothing

I awoke with light in my eyes

After all that darkness

I saw two lights at the end of the road.

Two years passed

I'm in kindergarten

The dark abyss of nothingness

I couldn't speak

And still I was in

A dark abyss of nothingness

Later after I learned to speak

My abyss got light and lighter

Till my dark abyss

Became the sunshine world I know today.

-Leo

We Moved

We move again

Mom yelled

"Get up and help pack-up!

We are moving"

As I get out of

My bed I take

A look around

The old house

I thought about

All the memor[ies]

I had in this house

As we were packing

I look at the kitchen

My room, my backyard

[Laundry] room, upstairs

It hurt me inside to see

All the things that I'm looking at

For the last time.

As [we] were driving away

All my friend's were

Waving to me as I'm

Leaving the place

Us moving made

Me mad because

We're moving

Again.

-Jacobi

Hope

I'll admit I got a little choked up reading this article about the farm-to-school movement. It is my dream to participate in a program like this, to help my students access health and nature directly. Still, I feel like there is already such a shortage of time and resources - what sacrifice it would take to get something like this off the ground, I can only imagine. For two years now I've wanted to start an environmental-literacy club. (I'm imagining my kids reading Walden and trudging through Kentucky kudzu...and it makes me smile.) Maybe next year...

Getting with the Times

The importance of using technology to push for gains in student acheivement cannot be overstated, and this article cites some compelling statistics.

NCLB Reform: Duncan Seeks Flexibility to Balance Accountability

In the following article, Arne Duncan outlines guiding principles for NCLB reform.

Sports Poems II

The Big Game

The sweat crawling down my forehead

Yelling through the thick, moist air,

For that perfect pass that would change everything.

The intense moment:

I see the ball fly through the air,

The dull, orange grip touches my fingertips.

Taking nervous dribbles down the glistening court

Be ready for the lay up I think to myself,

Yet did I know,

A foul was running toward me,

Enraged like a bull.

The flashes of the crowd's cameras,

Blinding my wide, scared eyes,

Hands fly across my sweat-filled face,

Grabbing greedily for the ball

Whistles blow-

A silent pause in time

Foul! the referee shouts.

My time has come,

My two shots decide the game,

This is it.

The first shot is gold,

The game, tied?

Overtime isn't an option.

My last breath,

Before the last shot,

Silence fills the gym.

Here it goes...

Swish!

The crowd cheers wildly.

I did it!

No...

We did it.

-Daphne

Basketball

The bold light

Sweaty bodies

Grip of the ball

The sound of the net swoosh

The coach screaming out plays

The intensity of the player

Fire in my bones

The sweat on my forehead

Feeling like [we're] going to win

Nikes on my feet

Impatient to get in the game

this is more than a game

The feelings of win or lose still the same

This is my court

-Deron

http://www.beckermanphoto.com/basketball-silhouette-1-id-1969.html

Field of Memories

The new brown brick dust

That opens up to the fence,

The bright orange sun

That shines memories on the field

I will never forget.

And the cold wind

That whistles through the flat air.

The freshly popped popcorn with extra butter,

And the American Flag that watches

The players [wander] onto the field.

The sound of the horn to start the fans attention

To watch the game begin.

The two teams gather on the dirt,

Waiting for the clang of the bat

Making its way through the air,

As it sends the white leathered,

Red laced ball,

In the bright blue sky

To sing its song.

The earth roars as the game ends.

-Dylan

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3516/3697444161_69926b444d.jpg

Poems for Grandfathers

My Papaw

The look of your tan face,

The smile that lit up the room,

And those baby blue eyes all made you my Papaw.

The times you would come over and visit all those

Sweet times of going camping,

Swimming and those summer nights

We always enjoyed your company

You got sick the cancer had gotten bigger

And the time left to spend with you was limited.

The night you left was traumatic.

Knowing that I would no longer see you tore me apart.

We all sat there trying to be strong it was very hard,

All our strong faces wore down to sobbing heaps.

the night my heart was crushed,

The funeral was long and sad

The sadness was like a virus,

No matter what it would find you.

I asked mom and dad what had happened

My question was answered with

He's in heaven looking down on you

It scared me at first then I realized you never left,

You're in my heart forever and always

-Alexa

Bye Bye Papaw

I remember spending time with him

In the garage crushing cans.

I remember the crinkle of the cans

As they got crushed.

I remember helping him

Wash Mamaw's bright red car.

Soapsuds flying off

As we sprayed it.

I remember the times he was in the hospital.

Him looking sad and helpless

Hooked up to all those cords

As I watched him in pain

Making me feel worthless.

I also remember the kitchen

In my mamaw's house

The day my mom said,

"He isn't coming home."

-Cody

Fishing With You

The long windy dirt road.

The sweet sound of the Beach Boys'

Sound of Summer.

You're tall

And you always [wear]

Your tan pants

And your "I'm a Grandpa" shirt

You got when I was born.

You say you caught

The biggest fish that day.

Your snow-white hair.

Your skin

Is dark tan;

All yearlong.

I inhale a big whiff

Of stinky slimy

Fish bate.

My ear numb

From the ticking

Of the fishing poles:

Mine tweety bird

Yours jet-black

And Kentucky-blue.

The buzzing of the

Purple and turquoise Dragon-flies.

The over-joyed

Future fishermen

Showing their proud fathers.

The mothers have the babies;

At the playground.

You ask me how

Is school going?

I say well.

Then we wrap it up.

And head home.

Where you hang your

#1 Grandpa

Hat on the rack.

-Shelby

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3118/3109675976_a4a12229bf.jpg?v=0

Never Forgotten

1948-2009

You are the father

Of my aunts, uncles and to my mother

And the grandfather

To my cousins, brother, sister and I

And you could've turned 62,

8 days ago

But if you're dead or not

We still celebrate your birthday,

And each and every night I see you

In my dreams

I run [toward] you and yell

Granddaddy

And when I give you a hug

I can smell that hard cologne that you put on

That smells wonderful.

Wish I could see you again

And you will never be forgotten.

I love the way

You turned your life around

And gave it to God

And kept the family together

And let God tell you to say

And everything you said was right

You [taught] me how to pray and be strong

And I love you for that.

When you died I thought it was a lie

But when some one dies in my family

I look in the sky and I can see their face up in the sky.

All of the good times we had

I [think] about them every night.

[Since] you helped the family so much I love you for that

And I love you because you're my family

So until this day you [have never been] forgotten

Rest. In. Peace.

And rest easy and we still celebrate your birthday.

-Teryon