29 Aug 2010

Poetry Bus At School 23 August

Chalk Ghosts 

Faded visions of the classroom linger.
A blackboard cowers, engrained with ancient dust,
remains of lessons that were never learned.
But a felt-pad wiper-block will rush to smear
chalk mistakes into oblivion, while floorboards
beneath the easel creak a protest at elusive
ghosts of teachers' calligraphic dances.
The battle-scarred desks, disfigured by generations
of rambunctious youth with tear-stained touch,
stand row on row, their lids poised for action.

Empty inkwell eyes challenge intruders -
"Only pencils allowed for budding authors!"

Paper scented, the air scribbles notes
to the nostrils," You will remember me."


This weeks bus driver is Karen of Keeping Secrets - Why not go and see other passengers who will be spilling the beans?

16 comments:

  1. Oh, what a lovely, lovely poem. Presented so skillfully. Just my kind of writing!

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  2. Yes the smell of the classroom always brings us back... Great personification here - love the inkwell eyes

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  3. This is terrific. It brings back many a classromm of a long (long!) time ago.

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  4. I love that last couple of lines.. i still get taken back there when I go into stationary shops.. lovely stuff!

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  5. I wonder what today's children will remember of their classrooms? The relentless hum of the computers, perhaps.

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  6. What a keen eye and poet's heart observed those details. A lovely poem.
    I've only just found you here - great blog.

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  7. "..elusive
    ghosts of teachers' calligraphic dances.." Very nice.

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  8. I adore it that they speak! I tried my hand at this school theme, but failed. I did manage something else, though.

    Wonderful stuff, Penny. best of luck with your new blog!

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  9. Oooh, I can smell that school smell! Great evocation of how powerful certain memories are.

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  10. A tender tender tender poem that gave me goosebumps and brought a low "hmmmmm" from me at the end as I drifted back in time to Mt. Rose School.

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  11. I did smell the chalk as I was reading your poem :-)
    Congratulations on this newborn blog. I hope it will have a long and prosperous life. I'm sure it will be a happy blog, being the fruit of your pen Pen.

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  12. Oh those old carved desks ! and ink wells!
    yikes haven't thought about it in a while-
    such a jumble, thanks for taking us back-
    Had a 'Sister' who held her chalk like a cigarette
    ( I'm told she left and got quite 'with it')
    Great piece.

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  13. Oh, I do like this. Love that paper-scented air and the cowering blackboard!

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  14. Lovely work Jinksy.I love the ink well eyes and the ghostly teachers calligraphic dances.Great final lines.This is my favourite poem of yours, so far!

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  15. I love the paper scented air and their lids poised for action! This is really wonderful!
    I felt like I was time traveling back to elementary school; Thanks for the memories! ;-D

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  16. This is absolutely lovely - tender and poignant. "You will remember me."

    I will remember this poem. It is beautiful.

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