Why do we read poetry? November 5, 2009

I have had a stressful work week; there are some days when  vocationally believing teaching is where you should be is simply not enough.  As Queen of Disorganisation I am coping badly with my ‘teacher on the move situation’; the A2 devised pieces reached tears and tantrums stage yesterday and the ‘London 2010′ trip is going to have to be soul-altering to make up for the hours I have lost in mindless administration.

I miss teaching A-level poetry (I miss the English that has ‘disappeared’ from my timetable, despite the opportunities Drama teaching has afforded me) and the GCSE poetry is months away on my scheme of work…although during an msn conversation tonight a ‘friend’ told me that you could be a teacher without being ‘Dead Poets’ Society’ Robin Williams.

I was reminded of his inspirational and aspirational monologue about ‘Why we read poetry?

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business these are all noble pursuits necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, and love; these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman “Oh me, Oh life of the question of these recurring. of the endless trains of the faithless of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these? Oh me, Oh life.” “Answer…that you are here and life exists….You are here. Life exists, and identity. The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.” The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

It used to be pride of place on my English classroom wall and the first handout I handed to my A level English students…. Tomorrow I vow to be closer to the inspirational teacher I so long to be. The words of my verse are not those that I expected but then again I’m not finished with the ‘writing’….

Domesticity without the bliss November 3, 2009

I think my apartment is cursed or the gateway to some sort of broken appliance hell… my washing machine and gas boiler seem to be as temperamental as I am. Yesterday I had to replace my microwave (and bought a bargain slow cooker at the same time); and my bathroom extractor fan has given up the ghost entirely. And the hours I have spent at the bedside of my terminally ill iPod have been in vain.

Tonight I spilled a new jar of coffee across my kitchen floor and in an attempt to clear up said mess I kicked a bucket of dirty water across the floor. I then knocked all of the books of my shelf- smashing into sad little smithereens a favourite lamp in the process.

It may be karma for the day I spent hung over last week while my Mum painted my living room; or it may be the return of a borrowed curse from a long ago boyfriend who had weird and downright scary associations with the number 7: what demon possessed me to buy an apartment bearing that number?

I hate being a ‘stupid handless woman’ when I first moved in I had a vision of myself, work boots, denium shorts, lumberjack shirt and an American smile: armed only with my trusty pink toolbox and my wits: I would be able to take on the world and at the very least my little apartment…

My Mum is one of those women: she is very ‘handy’: as well as painting my living room  re-attached my ‘fallen curtain’ rail from the wall and is currently searching Ards for some sort of light fitting thingmebob for my hall light to allow it to work again.

But no, once again I sell out the sisterhood- I now have to call an electrician, a gas boiler service person, perhaps the washing machine guy, the scary Apple service people; and I have to somehow circumnavigate that devil that is the MOT service and the Mechanic’s Garage: that’s a lot of testosterone and being called ‘dear’ for one week.

I’m not quite sure how all this (or any of my recent entries) embrace the spirit of carpe diem… unless the ability to call a man, or rather a list of men, to fix this seemingly endless list of things to  right  and take control of my little world once more can be somehow seizing the day!