Was the Girl

I was the girl whose beauty was what her eyes saw,
Not her Eyes.

I was the girl whose ember brows and lashes
Brightened those Fires.

I was the girl whose hair the air arranged
Without Care.

I was the girl whose skin the sun burned,
Not Shame.

I was the girl whose face shone never imagining
it might hide


I was the girl

who did not know

Beautiful Ugly Plain

would be her name.

Done

The day has begun
But Night will come
even though the sun
shines in the moon.

The dark will be soon
with no more room
for the smallest light.

All will be Quiet
The heart’s riot

Done.

Haiti's Help

Hate sees the Fall
lets the Earth Quake
takes God’s call

the Fall hates to see
lets the Earth Quake
takes God’s call.

to see the Fall’s Hate
Let Not the earth quake
Take God’s Call

Haiti, I am you, I am yours
Rise
Lift
Where are our hands?
Did we cast you down?

Haiti: our hearts
Rise
Lift
We try to reach you
Though you fall, Rise

Though you fall,
You Will Lift Us.

Conditional Love (for Hermosillo, Mexico - June 2009)

Parents trying to break the building’s body
Before it broke their children's.

Such love should be enough
To smother smoke and burn fire.

Devastation should not touch such perfect skin
Desperation never choke such little throats.

A warm womb gave them life
That one of bricks and steel stole.

Why We "Heart" Edward

Being the elitist bookworm that I am (and an English teacher with little time), my litmus test for whether to read or not to read a book is an author’s state of existence: if you’re dead but your work is still happily frolicking in the fields of academia, I’ll read you. Am I embarrassed, then, by my vampiric consuming of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight novels? (She is very much alive, after all). Of course not! Dearest Edward is, after all, dead. And I can’t resist this mythical Mr. Darcy! Snob that I am, I’m still just a girl—who loves a good romance. Still, I must psychoanalyze the hysteria for this modern-day Mr. Rochester. Why do we "heart" Edward? The Twilight series is the phenomenon that it is for one reason: the romantic ideal she has created in our beloved Edward Cullen—a vampire who is somehow, simultaneously, the ideal gentleman. Meyer’s (only) brilliance was to perfectly marry in this being two of the most powerful and longed for—yet often conflicting—forces: love and lust.

Let us consider the vampire on a symbolic level. The vampire “lives” purely to consume; he is a slave to his thirst, to his desire for blood. Thus, were Desire to manifest itself physically, what more fitting form than the vampire. The vampire is the embodiment of pure desire; in fact, of extreme desire, i.e., lust. Indeed, a vampire’s desire is often referred to as “bloodlust.” Moreover, lust is so potent in this creature that it takes the very life of others to satiate its perpetual yearning (only momentarily, of course, for Desire is never satisfied—because then it wouldn’t be Desire; it would be Fulfillment, but I digress).

Now let’s consider the human female; in relationships, a woman has one fundamental worry: a man’s motives. Does he truly love me, or is it only bodily desire? Um, ladies, with the vampire, it is piercingly clear: he wants your body.

But in Edward’s case it is impossibly, but deliciously, both. What makes Edward so captivating to females—young and older alike—is that this creature, this vampire who is desire, lust itself manifested in physical form controls himself. Why? How does he control with superhuman strength his monster hunger? Because his all powerful lust for Bella is impossibly overwhelmed by his love for her. And yes his motivation is great—Bella would die if he indulged—but that fact is what makes his love so awesome and true: unlike the often testosteroney human male, the vampire’s uncontrollable instinct is to indulge, but Edward inexplicably manages it because his love for her is so vast. And that is the attraction for us humans: a love so profound, so true that he can’t help himself—only the other way. And that’s how all women want to be loved: maddeningly yet unconditionally. The perfect harmony of eros and agape—but with agape on top.

So that’s why we Twihards "heart" Edward Cullen—or at least why we elitist bibliophiles don’t stake the Twilight series.

Public Writing

Students were brainstorming about fears, and I was writing them on the board. One of them said "public speaking." I quickly wrote it on the board and turned to take more responses.

A student whispered, "Um, Ms. C? You forgot the 'l,'" as the rest of the class laughed.

Parapraxis, Perhaps

I'm usually overexcited about whatever I'm teaching, and I'll speak quickly, often combining words, etc.

Once, when trying to say "start," I said "shart," much to my students' delight. I laughed along with them, thinking it amusing, too. A few minutes later, I said, "Oh! It's funny because it sounds like 'fart.'"

"It's a word, Ms. C!" they assured me. "Haven't you seen [insert movie title I don't remember]?" Of course I hadn't; I told them I didn't watch that rubbish. But when everyone refused to tell me what it meant, I consulted the online urban dictionary.

"Oh!" I said. "It's a poop fart!" More hysterical laughter.

Exasperated

As a teacher (or person, really), little else is as disconcerting as when students laugh, and you're not sure why. Most recently, my students laughed when we were reviewing vocabulary words, and I said the words "exacerbated" and "exasperated." A student moved to quiet them, saying, "Okay! Moving on." But, of course, I couldn't; I continued to wonder what caused the entire class to laugh. It wasn't until I repeated the words to myself that I had an epiphany (you just have to think in vulgar terms when it comes to teenagers and what amuses them):

I asked, "Oh! Is it because it sounds like 'masturbated'?" Sure enough, it was.