Legacy

What a legacy you've left

my dear elder friend,
such love and joy
to which I have borne
proud witness.

Early Friday morning,
My Grandfather
passed away.

I'm up at my parent's in
Spiritwood SK,
putting together
all the video I've shot of Grandpa,
and sitting in the midst
of my relative's reflections
on this great man.
Well beloved
in his community,
a man of many talents,
and the genetic source
I am sure of my creative impulses!.

Always quick with a joke,
and a huge smile.
Generous, fun loving,
gentle and eloquent.
But most of all faithful in prayer,
for his wife, family and friends.
Loving God with his whole heart.

Farewell.
And see you in Heaven someday
I love you Grandpa.

Loneliness

Today at work, I was helping a student with english,
the section we were in was exploring lonliness
and gave instructions to write a paragraph or poem on the subject.

Here's what I came up with


Alone

A shy house empty of voices
full, of empty chairs
full cupboards
but empty places and plates
No one arrives
No one is ever late
Dust settles undisturbed
only one chair
with a polished seat

Slam, slam, slam slam, wonderful slam, glorious slam!

Tuesaday May 23, 2006

A night to remember,

Met my friend Laura for the first time

Took her around Regina
to a few art spots
and to see my pots
at Traditions
Hung out at the library
and then went to our first Poetry Slam
She convinced me to ante up the $2
and enter the contest.
entering late, instead of the
30 minutes maximum allowed,
I had 20

So... on an empty stomach
and a pint of Guinness
off I went scribbling away.
Nervous as a mouse in a trap shoot
I finished my work before the alotted
time was up and handed it in.
Then we waited for the fun to begin
Names were drawn out of a hat,
and the anticipation of where I would be placed
grew and grew, and grew with our guesses
until it was clear I was to go last
which was fantastic!

My dictionary page included many syn- words and a few T's
Here is the poem I came up with
(thanks for the answered prayer God)



Syn - the same, alike
(an ode to the brave poets in the slam)

Pen.
Slow to lift to paper
late entry in this,
this swot of syntax
this paper filled scribble of pen black
scribble
charge
attack
swing fingers and never
look back
You, You've got to
take delight in the wordsmiths
the synod of write
Bubble breathed battlers
Upper tounged rattlers
All welcome in this synagogue

Pour words like liquor
into the void

Tonight we all stand
before our God
hoping that the wieght of our words
will fall on sympathetic ears
Stand now up here
fighting down the fear
As upward fly
voice raised high
to the true Tabernacle
And I Zacheus
in his sycamore
long for a glimpse of God.



Made it to the finals
and ended up in the top five
with several people
coming by with compliments afterward
Was fantastic and a bit of a healing time too!

Thanks Laura for being a part of
one of the best evenings I've had in a very long time
and for pushing me to be a slammer

Now taking requests.

Last school year I became acquainted with Frankenstein.

The first was the student play at the high school I work for.
The second, was my guitar.

I work in special education, having the wonderful job of caring for and teaching a young man with Cerebral Palsy.
Music plays a pivotal role in his life and we will often travel to various shops and businesses to play songs for the staff there.
One day when visiting the post office,
playing music on what is probably the worst ukulele in the world,
the postal clerk asked us if we wanted a guitar.

Um, no thanks,
can't you see that we already have this wonderful precision instrument
that reminds us of the Hawaiian islands...

Of course I accepted and for about a year made wonderful music on our free gift.

Just prior to Christmas this year the unexpected (unexpected but wholly avoidable) happened,
I took the guitar from low humidity and extreme cold, into a very high humidity,
high temerature environment...
THe neck snapped at the end of the fretboard.
Working away in the school's shop
we drilled holes,
cut wooden pins,
and reassembled the severed head to the neck
after stringing and tuning ,
the gift guitar sounds better than it did before
I Think it's a bit of miracle.

Kind of like this life
Old schoolhouse reborn into art studio
life rising out of the ashes piles of divorce
and second chances just maybe
being better chances than the first.

It's hard to get my mind around that
how God makes good from all sorts of bad happenings
and our ability to take what He has given and smash it up a bit.
I don't know what kind of tunes I'll be playing
on this Frankenstien life,
But I know the things my God puts back together
are not monsters.