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will19008 Jul 2019
interact verbally
conceive ideas together
learn to work in a group setting
learn to verbalize their own ideas
respect the contributions of others
discover creative relationships
among ideas
Written in my EDE352 notebook, Spring 1980, as I prepared myself for becoming a teacher.
will19008 Jul 2019
I
die
life
health
perfect
yields
be
certain
wholly
are
never
shou­ld, should
things
seldom
diminishing
slippery
bothered
memory, memorable
committed, committed
necessary
reckoning
betaken
hopes
into
My
We, we
when
It, it, it
which
therefore
of
the, the
sun
on
not
if
other
anger
holding
expecting
waiting
disgusted­
drinking
writing
buried
graveyard
fear
anxiety
stress
chaotic
po­ison, poisoning
worth, worth
seems
your
a, a
as, as, as
is, is, is, is, is, is, is
and, and, and, and
have, have, has
that, that
to, to, to, to, to
like, like
nothing, Nothing, Nothing
bloom, bloomed
roses
with
person
become
yourself
you
promise
"The technique is spatchcocking and it looks as theatrical as it sounds.
You cut out the backbone and open the bird flat, like a book"
  Jul 2019 will19008
Miranda
Oh honey,
Sometimes it’s the timing that’s wrong
Not you.
  Jul 2019 will19008
I REALLY
lead me on
then leave me
halfway
will19008 Jul 2019
my heart’s comfort has not been recaptured
but, not dead to feelings anymore, I’m waiting

always seeking fleeting holes in hard places
and sleeping without much space to dream

I have suppressed; sometimes I have wept
because I’m always too uncomfortable to forget
Words about memory and missing someone...
will19008 Jul 2019
my spirit feels the power of wings
born as I shed the full cloak of my birth
humming a quiet little verse to myself—
come!—comfort me among these flowers

soft desires freed in this, our bed of grass
I scent the warm rising dough of your skin
I sense the sun heating the dew and wonder
when will this lover wet my skin with tears?
Remembering first love, that intoxicating mixture of hope and fear...
will19008 Jul 2019
True friends trust and love indeed
while lovers think too much and bleed
Their love ends in a graceless Hell
spoiled by thinking none too well
Fooling around with the idea that love ends when it begins to be governed by the head, rather than the heart, I wrote this corny little poem.  I'm not sure that I like it, but I guess I do.
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