I learned from my poem, though, that what I did was called a 'Golden Shovel' - that is, taking the lines of a verse and using those words to kick off another poem. For me, this has been the year of the serenity prayer, so to keep myself calm in faculty meetings, I've been saying the prayer to myself and thinking about it to ground what I'm able to accomplish and what I must let go.
There's nothing like letting random words kick you into gear. So, here's to day #23.
I Am Handed-Down a Candle
How To Stay Calm at a Friday Faculty Meeting
~b.r.crandall
God, you’re such a whimsical soul. Some days you
grant me the ability to give thanks. Not today….
me with ear-steam, heart-wrath, and mind-fury, cursing
the @#%# for the inconsistency. All I want is
serenity, calm, and a reason to believe there’s good…
to see hope, and to have patience to
accept the whack-a-doodle-ness of
the way their bureaucracy goes…operates…is.
things like zip-code apartheid, privilege, and the lies
I get told in the name of their power and privilege
cannot be forgiven (but somehow they are) —
change rarely discomforts their structures,
the castle and brick, the diamonds and banks, & the churches giving them
courage to be burdened as they are, this whiteness that likes
to stand atop mountains with weapons, moats, and laws. Never
changes, because why would they want this?
The narrative written to glorify their hunt…
things to ponder (eyes of the needle? but there’s that camel).
I see it clearly now, the disease it’s always been, and I
can attest to the privilege, because I’ve tasted it…
and have become part of it, this hypocrisy in higher education,
the exploitation (something wicked this way comes).
Wisdom & integrity rarely walk
to the same drumbeat of morals, ethics, & justice. They
know more than the rest of us, because, well, they do…
the ones atop mountains looking down on us. The
difference? The rest of us keep looking up, and we see.