#dramaeducation
An explosion,
pulse quickened,
the adrenaline itch
threatened to stifle me
throat constricted,
mouth cotton dried
as I eyed the few I could see
in the front row
then the music
as familiar as my pillow
gave a beat and suggested melody
and as I sang I rose
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 10:10 AM UTC
Next to me was this one
and her feet were never still
she twirled and span through contretemps
and likely always will
That one had intensity
but never said a word
from blackened fingered canvases
his voice could still be heard
These two stood in spotlights
and held everyone in thrall
performing other’s stories,
their own a quieted call
And the group raised up their voices
which entwined and fit so well
and the chorus spoke of everything
they’d never usually tell
These memories, these children,
who moved, who drew, who showed,
who sang unguarded clarity
while the emptiness bellowed
Used to have us allies
used to have us care,
now, become statistics
now, are never there
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 3:16 AM UTC
I spent fifteen minutes of the lesson
chasing a roll of Polo mints and a pound coin
out of a small hole in the working class lining of his pointless blazer, to stop him taking scissors to it,
even though mum said it was OK
At the same time, my child bosses
decided to cut my subject
from the formerly rich platter available
to our blasted, gorgeous youth
because, reasons
which I suppose are financial and deeply,
numerically,
justifiable
Meanwhile, the next kid in junior school
silently loses the opportunity
to be anything other
than a state certified failure
So, cheers
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 6:28 PM UTC