Friday, March 14, 2014

 

Haiku Friday: Heroes


Yesterday as I walked into school I found orderly lines of chairs filling the atrium.  Though nothing was to happen for another two hours, the chairs were already starting to fill up with a wildly disparate group of people, speaking a dozen languages.  I knew what it was-- citizenship day, when our school hosts a big naturalization ceremony.

I wandered around among the people, listening to all the voices of people who had chosen to become Americans. It was moving to see and hear them.  I wanted to talk to them, to meet them and congratulate them.  I'm not good at that; I tend to be shy.

Then I remembered one of my heroes, Hulitt Gloer.  When we taught together he did something that never occurred to me:  As students filed into the room, he would go up in the rows and chat with them, finding out who they were and what they did.  It was remarkable-- it had never occurred to me do anything like that, and he did it so naturally.  Of course you should go out and talk to your students.  And so I did that, yesterday morning:  I went out and talked to the people waiting so patiently to become Americans.  I'm so glad that I did.  The stories were remarkable, and I'm saving a few for later posts.

But that is what heroes do, isn't it?  They demonstrate a better way to be.  Hulitt did that.  Let's haiku about heroes today, big and small.  I'll go first:

Co-teachers?  No way.
I was the learner, the sponge, 
He was the master.

Now you write one!  Just make it 5 syllables/7 syllables/5 syllables... and I think we will get some great entries today!


Comments:
In the immortal words of Cee Lo:

My heroes had the
Heart to live their lives out on
A limb. And all I

Remember was think-
Ing I want to be like them.
Ever since I was

Little, ever since I
Was little it looked like fun
And it's no coinc

-Idence I've come. And
I Can die when I'm done. Does
That make me crazy?
 
Agent Son of Coul
stood in the gap for others:
Fiction role model.

Then there's Bruce Banner,
unlikely hero, indeed -
big, green rage machine.
 
The lie bloomed obscene...
Like Puce orange begonia,
Lost it all.Dream gone?

I railed.I cried. He
Said,I'm leaning on Ever-
Lasting arms.Until

Fell into pitcher
Of sweet Jersey cream and there
Births glory psalms.Hallelu.
 
My dad was quiet
He did what he did humbly
He poured out his life.
 
Dallas,My Son

Day's color he strokes
Canvas. Joy & sorrow sings.
Friends met,draws inside.
 
John Rasmus

A priest, he admits
His Ugly.Rage spilled,envy
Clutched. Forgive Failure

Abandoned, somehow
True love is returned manifold.
Sows this like wildflowers


 
My Brother Rock

Proceeds with caution
This man child grown. Rabid jawed
Scissors used to prune

Roses red ate his
Belly at 2. Fire devoured
His arms at five. Glass

Pierced his arms at ten.
His parents fractured feeling.
Now,his wings shield all.





 
Counselor

Once he met Jesus
he never forgot Him,how
His brown healing hands

Felt inside his own.
What made Him so lonely for
Those hungry for justice.

The joy that informed
his teaching there from the mount
Or from battered boat moored

In the cove of lakes.
Percolation of ideas
he loved and moments...

Illumination!
Lanterns in the dark.Music.
Poems.Children. Life.

 
Hot Tamale Sal
Is my hero: she bitches
But never switches.
 
O Hell,Osler! What am I gonna do about Geoff,who doesn't totally suck?

Heroes ain't perfect.
Just willing to try. Geoffrey keeps
Crawling back with kisses.
 
Counselor II


Daddy is a big
Grownup kid. When he loves a Thing
He loves it to the moon.

Like NATS baseball,his JOB,
MUSIC or delicious stuff.
He carries adventure

In his hip pocket
So we like it too. But Dad
Wants us to be real

Good at being US.
If you're a girl diva,sun
SHINE like DIAMONDS

If you're a boy,find
Monkey SHINE and SMILE like there's
No tomorrow,which

There is...cause Daddy's

Here. He does it good
All by himself. And he SHINES
JOY. 'Cause Daddy has fun.
 
PERSIS

She goes around with
A rag on her head or bald--
funny peacock with

Inexhaustible
Grin that wraps it's arms around
You. She calls her pink

Pills, "The Girls," orders
Them to do bidding. Even
Emily Poet

Didn 't have hope like
That. Hope not like a birdie
But a GORILLA!

Got Teddy Kennedy's
Cancer. It ain't pretty ,but
She won't say, "Uncle.

NEVER.

 
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