The First Act

August 27, 2014

‘Tis not upon each one of us
To carry the weight of them,
The myriad minds mired in rust
From fragile summer gems.
Our role, as teachers, is to be
Stewards for their lives shaken,
Guides for thoughts to be free,
And provide risks to be taken.
Now, with naught but a week
Left before the first bell rings,
We must be serene, and seek
The quiet time evening brings.
We’re off to the races, friends;
Now, please, put down your pens.  

MSBQ

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First & Foremost

October 24, 2009

Riverrun
past Eve and Adam’s
from swerve of shore to bend of bay,
it was a bright cold day in April
and the clocks were striking thirteen
the sun shone, having no alternative,
on the nothing new
through the fence, between curling
flower spaces, I could see them hitting;
all this happened, more or less.
Who is John Galt?
Ships at a distance have every man’s
wish on board
it was a pleasure to burn
A story has no beginning or end;
arbitrarily one chooses that moment
of experience from which to look back
or from which to look ahead
(it was love at first sight)
it was a queer, sultry summer, the
summer they electrocuted the
Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what
I was doing in New York.
I am old now and have not much to
fear from the anger of the gods,
at one point, midway on our path
in life, I came around and found
myself now searching through a
dark wood, the right way blurred and lost.
If music be the food of love, play on,
give me excess of it, surfeiting, the
appetite may sicken and so die.

MSBQ (with help)