for a friend from the old school

i want to thank you for the conversation

yesterday

 

i was a little sad thinking about friends

who pass

and the great cycle

of alpha and omega

 

you were one of my

first friends

 

i still remember

getting paddled in kindergarten

you and me and Cassidy

 

there are other memories too

 

and lately I've been wondering

about those

 

vision is adjusted by what we learn

and as i look back

i realize

things weren't what they seemed

 

and here we are

products of the old school

that sits empty now

 

and i suppose it is natural

to have regrets

products of learning

and thought

 

there are always things we might have done

or said

or accomplished

 

but there are days to be content

too

secure in the knowledge

that we have built a foundation

 

one that will outlast us

a hundred years

 

our hands

the ones that learned

to scrawl in that old school

 

have many constructive days before us

 

there are lives

we haven't touched yet

 

there are books

still to read

 

this didn't turn out like i thought it would

 

maybe nothing ever does

 

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

Wonderful bit of musing on building and buildings, edifices of the brick-and-mortar sort as well of those of own creation, physically intangible yet equaly durable. The piece meanders on its own way at its own pace--which, as the result and narrative of musing, it very well should--and it interweaves the physical and the ehtereal easily and seamlessly. This is very impressive work.

[Emily B]

the old Emily finally makes an appearance, I've been missing her

[Obscured by the Shadows]

This poem is very deep and full of emotion, it struck a cord in my heart. Though I am no older than 18, I must say, I appreciate the work everyone older than me has done, building us a utopia to live in. Of course, there are faults in everything and nothing goes according to plan, but it will all turn out alright in the end, most everything does.

Thank you so much for sharing with us, excellent work.

[Mary]

Ah, but it turns out as it should. Very beautiful poem, I love the flow, like a gentle sigh. Yet your words are profound, and the gentleness with which they are written emphasizes the depth of meaning. Added to my favorites.

[Emily B]

thank you very much

[Marie Anzalone]

Old school. Interesting that you have been ponderign this thought, as well.
In my work, I read and study a lot of progressive movement thinking. it is exciting, it is vibrant, it is cutting edge stuff.

I have come to the profound conclusion that those of us with "rural" values- connection, community, presence, atrention to detail, treasuring objects passed down, attuned to natural cycles, kindness, altruism- we are getting phased out as being irrelevant. WHO we are is old-school.

I ALSO see that there will be, very quickly, a movement among the young to "rediscover" old school values. But they have to want to want to get there themselves, when they go out and search for that sma emeaning that compelled us.

Let's hope the world lasts long enough for them to do that.

[SkinlessFrank]

You make growing old sound whimsical and romantic. There are indeed days when one can look backwards and forwards and let out a sigh of acceptance like the one you have done here. Glad I came across this this morning. "Paddled" huh? No one gets paddled nowadays.

[h d e rushin]

This picture is of Janae Jefferson Rushin, who after a short illness died this morning at 4:06am.
Know nothing else but that she loved poetry of this kind...

dana

[Emily B]

Oh, Dana. Tears fall fast. I don't know what to say.. what can i do?

[J. Alfred Prufrock]

Ah, yes, this is strong piece, very nostalgic and full of contemplated recollections. Hats off to you, my dear. I was touched.

[...Where Nothing Is Sac..]

Solid and poignant. I really like how you crafted the slow, thoughtful pace.