#hears
all a teacher can do is learn and live,
see.
Situationical, long ago, tradition
Teachers tell stories,
with force. Whacks and such.
The reason, once, one time,
the ruler to the knucks
was to loosen a stuck clutch o'
clingers to the edge, who knew what
could be known,
who were
witnesses,taught to see
perceiving sub til ity plowing furrows
through explosions of new math,
new bombs, new moms,
new wars for no reasons, the edge
clinger fingers
let go, just before
a teacher who
they knew learned,
as he lived,
to hear whos
beyond the bubble's edge.
slip
yet no sense
{clique}
Filter Heinlein through Vonnegut,
squeeze the dregs,
sort each bubble by whos heard.
--Suess, a gain, point ought ever one,
heare that? That is an echo. A bubble pop echo,
in the halls of all imagined worlds
redeemed by children seeing the meaning
wave form on the GB scale storys are sung to.
Waiting is, on the BE scale
the ceiling leaks in the poet's prison,
but his window faces west,
so he is pleased to watch
the wind he claimed
bring rain. And so it goes.
How long do stories live these days?,
Asked the peacemaker, in the distance.
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
Open your eyes
so that I may show you my world
Open your ears
so that I may whisper my wisdom
Open your mind
so that I may fill it with my wonder
Open your heart
so that I may show you my love.
Open your hand
take mine with it
and gaze upon the wonders of this world
with me.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
Love accepts and does not analyze
Love surrenders, does not resist
Love sees without eyes
It hears without words
It understands the silence
Love communes direct
and deeper
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC