Bud the Teacher

NPM2009: Prompt 12

April 12th, 2009 · 3 Comments

Break Free
Creative Commons License photo credit: nickwheeleroz

Suppose I don’t try to frame this one for you.  It is what it is.

Tags: Poetry · Writing

3 responses so far ↓

  • Ken Allan // Apr 12th 2009 at 2:54 am

    I was to be called shelly.

    That’s the name my mother chose
    before they took me
    and washed me
    and shone the light.

    They say never count your eggs.
    When I asked they wouldn’t tell
    the next bit. Just looked and stared.

    And now I wait
    in this cold place.

    It’s been a long time
    since the light shone again.

    Ken Allans last blog post..What Is Learnt From Community?

    [Reply]

  • Kevin Hodgson // Apr 12th 2009 at 3:44 am

    Cracked Egg

    You crack me up
    the way you refuse the join the crowd:
    where others are content to sit and wait for their chance,
    your impatience always gets the best of you;
    where others remain happy to be part of the bunch,
    you walk along the eggshells, snapping pieces off
    in order to expose yourself as unique,
    and more interesting than the rest of the them all.
    Oh, where you reside,
    there are sunny-side ups — and worlds, over-easy –
    but you scramble the expectations, don’t you?
    Keep cool, my friend, or you’ll rot from the inside out
    and get tossed away as another outcast
    who raised too much of a fuss.

    Listen to the poem: http://www.box.net/shared/static/y3m5h5di7j.mp3

    Kevin Hodgsons last blog post..Blogging Across the School District

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  • Connie Masson // Apr 13th 2009 at 8:06 am

    READY?

    Two dozen
    All in a row
    Logical, neat
    Smooth, and round

    Perfect symmetry
    Freckles and all
    Some darker tans
    All neat rows

    Except one
    What happened?
    Did they bully him?
    Did they squish him ‘till he cracked?

    His yoke is busted
    His shell in cracked
    He wasn’t ready
    For the world yet.

    Are they?

    Connie Massons last blog post..Legacies

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