photo credit: bourgeoisbee #
Make all of your marks heavy and dark. Wherever you choose to make them. #
Bud the Teacher
Inquiry & Reflection for Better Learning
photo credit: bourgeoisbee #
Make all of your marks heavy and dark. Wherever you choose to make them. #
A pencil
lost amid the leaves
A mouse
lost amid the wires
A thought
lost amid the days
A poem
lost amid the writing
I step outside myself
to ponder
how many things have been lost
I step back
so that I might unexpectedly stumble upon
circumstances posed as opportunity
and see them for what they are …
–Kevin
the podcast: http://www.cinchcast.com/dogtrax/poetry-podcasts/205957
Kevin Hodgson´s last [type] ..Gaming on my Mind at the CCCC
2B
or not 2B
That is the question.
I read today on Twitter,
of a tweep who wrote a letter.
An annual event,
To excuse his kid from tests.
The kind you have to bubble,
An assessment kind of trouble.
That so clearly lead to double-
-teaching. Learning, and For Tests.
If you throw it out the window,
Where will all the students now go?
On to College or the workplace,
Without G-MAT kinds of stress?
So the pencil flies instead, so.
Over desk and out the window.
To nestle ‘mongst the green-ry.
Now prepare for “off-to-school” go.
–
Have a nice day! Do you use 2B or 2H ?
Andrew Forgrave´s last [type] ..April iPhone Photo Project- Day 11
Relics: 11/30
Pencils, CD’s, Books,
soon to become collectors’ items.
It’s easy to bid farewell to
the Pencil and the CD for the new technologies,
But the book?
After years of loving and living with and around
hard and soft backs,
I tossed this holy experience away
for the slim, backlit iPad,
filled with titles
waiting to be read paperless.
In fact, I’ve been stalling,
backed into a corner,
Before I step back
And take up my paper copy of
Because Digital Writing Matters
As we begin our iAnthology online book club
Why am I fighting
this return
To my old, loving ways?
Bonnie K´s last [type] ..Relics- PAD 11-30
Maybe it’s Sproing Fever—
I see the typ-o—like a blood
stain but I won’t bother
fixing it. I already produced
a to-do list beyond number.
Not because it’s too much
work but I signed a blood
pact to that invisible church
where mind-heart surrendered
and I get this sproing-itch
unless I honor desire
even on Monday. Follow bliss
might sound easy: Taste fire!
The want-to/have-to dis-
olution, union, goes higher.
Make our marks so strong
outside the lines of fear
and hate. Let’s color long
until we’ve made the last tear
and discord turn to song.
Joseph McCaleb´s last [type] ..Red Marks
You’re a lifesaver today.
Blank Paper
With both arms you pull your notebook so tightly to your chest
that the words could not escape even if they had the will.
Write what you see, I whisper.
There is poetry everywhere;
in the tip of that branch,
in the curve of your knee,
in the speckled grit of these stone steps
between strands of this spring wind
and in the diminishing space between us.
Tentatively, pencil in hand, you lower the paper
into your lap and look out with inward eye.
Pencil writes on the page
Leaf writes on the wind
I write on the your memory
No matter who we are
We swing and swing around
Around our steps, legs and turns
We carve and carve around
Around the tent of sky
Seeking for the answer
Lynn Chang 4.11
Plants
Plant
Plan
Pla
Pl
Pl
P
don’t erase the green beauty
that surrounds our world
I didn’t mean to.
I mean,
I like to color in
my pictures with
heavy, dark
thick waxy
sky blues
evergreens
magentas
blacks
A practice that I began
to prefer years ago
when barely-there-color
began to bore me
by its lack of expression
representation
of the colors wrapped in paper
On this particular afternoon
I found myself at a kitchen table
heavy laden with the detritus of our household
coupons
a kite
to-do and grocery lists
newspapers
magazines
library books
and a box of crayons
the good kind
with a fresh black crayon
the kind you need for coloring
tires and machine parts
on the Mystery Machine
I asked to borrow it from my son
and he smiled and shared
his treasure
But I pushed too hard
as I colored some inconsequential
piece of a picture that
no one would really even look at again
as it would get absorbed by the pile of papers
SNAP
right-in-half snapped
I looked at the two pieces
in frustration, sadness, disbelief
I waited for tears from the five-year-old
but they didn’t come
“It’s okay, Mom.
That happens to me sometimes.
I’m sad, but it’s okay.”
As I sit here,
similar pile of papers next to me,
pondering the frustrations of
students pushed too far and too hard
by the expectations of others,
I worry
I pray
that I won’t be the one
who pushes too hard
to get him to show
the colors of promise I see in him now
In the park, the tallest, oldest tree stands
I walk over to it.
I feel the rough, hard bark
I take a knife and start carving
L
O
V
E,
LOVE <3
I carve it in over and over in the same spot,
so it's there forever.
Love lasts forever! <3
[...] something told me to write this poem when i saw this picture… [...]
[...] was inspired by This photo to write this [...]
When you make your mark,
make it deep,
make it dark.
Make’m where their in plain sight,
where it matters most,
draw the line deep within,
anywhere you choose to make them.
Because when it comes to life,
you choose where,
and when.
Make it count,
make it good.
When it comes to life there’s no eraser.
Allison´s last [type] ..Last Time