Dylan Thomas "Do Not Go Gently Into the Night"

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

"What She Could Do" by Barbara Crumb

What She Could Do

(for Mom)

Toss hay bales. Shovel

Shit. Exterminate

Toadflax. Prioritize

scrubbing the toilet.

Soothe a frightened foal.

Pacify a weary husband.

Cradle an asthmatic daughter. Invest

in entrepreneurial sons. Share

her love of horses with thirty-eight years

of students.

Harmonize to “You Are My Sunshine”

in the truck with me.

Struggle to master “Space Invaders” for months—

Then quit.

Spit cherry seeds in competition—

And win.

Pray the “Our Father” over Dad—

And cry.

--Barbara Crumb

July 18, 2006

Thanks for Elizabeth Holmes for “What She Could Do”

"What She Could Do"

                                                      What She Could Do

Swing some good licks

with a hoe or an axe,

Scatter sheep manure,doom

dandelions. Mulch

with bark and batting.

Name lilies in Latin.

Render pot liquor,turkey-

neck broth, enormous

grape-juice fruitcakes-batter

dripping from fingers.

Get her mouth around hymns,

young Lochinvar,tintinnabulation

of bells. Be the eensy spider,

or voice of God. Walk

blunt. Laugh big. Pinch

with her long white toes.

- Elizabeth Holmes

"Advice" by Marti Mihalyi

Advice
                for my creative writing class

 Take this paper from my hand,
offering.  It is blue and not
unlike the lake it might have
sailed out on. Sometimes this paper
wants. Wants to be sky or sorrow
or the vein along your temple,
a voice so quiet it is always

your name. This paper wants.
It wants to be a river—
the Danube. Wants to be a song.
It wants too much sometimes.
You cannot

give this paper everything.
It is too small anyway. But it is
waiting, is listening for the weight

of your hand across it. Be
for this paper something, some
grace, a face in the doorway

to bring it home. Be for this paper
the rain that loves dust and falls
through the blue not knowing
what will welcome it. If anything.
Be like the rain.

Marti Mihalyi

Invictus

Invictus by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


April gave background on the poem, which gives it extra power.

The Courage to Teacher

One thing I will take away from this book is that I need to keep doing what I'm doing: I make connections with kids, I love what I'm doing, and I care deeply that they learn. Of course, I always need to improve. I am afraid--that I am incompentent, that I won't make connections with every student, that kids won't learn, that my collegues think I'm incompetent, etc, etc. sigh.