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Post  Dewell H. Byrd on Wed 18 Dec 2013 - 20:13

Can you see this Jr. High School teacher?  Looking for a clearer picture and a stronger end line.  All help appreciated.  Dewell


“Grinner” Mills waddles down the aisle

grunts, groans, clicks his false teeth

as we brace ourselves against the

chalkboard squeaks of Algebra 1-A.

He’s a dragon, no two ways about it.

His tongue lashes out between

hound-dog-yellow fangs,

flame spews with each step and breath.

“Grinner” has been known to eat freshmen

and football players who come to class

unprepared. Some say his flame

has become only a pilot light.

Now he just dreams of devouring

a young, delicious freshman,

lightly buttered and sprinkled with

knowns and unknowns. Still we quake.

Better make that two freshmen ‘cause

it’s been a long time since breakfast.

_Dewell H. Byrd

Dewell H. Byrd

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Fear of Mr. Taylor

Post  dennis20 on Mon 23 Dec 2013 - 11:56

Dewell,  His name was Mr. Taylor and he taught senior Chemistry and Trig. His sense of humor was very dry and his wrath was worse.  Especially on those who came to class unprepared.  I think I see the ending without the last two lines. The last two lines invite more conversation.  The picture is complete at "quake" for me.  Thanks for that memory.  Merry Christmas.  Dennis


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Nicely done

Post  tsukany on Mon 23 Dec 2013 - 15:14


I like the thought.  We seem to all have one of those teachers...I'm sure I am the topic of someone's poem as well.  Smile

A couple of spots for me 1.) I don't think of dragons as waddling. 2.)  The "some say" line throws me off to another time frame.  I think it works all in the persona's present experience.  Maybe the ending can be more of an Algebraic equation than simple addition.


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Oh foot! I wrote all this stuff, dog issue and now it's gone!

Post  Pat on Sun 29 Dec 2013 - 19:25

Trying again.

What about roared down the aisle?  Stanza 2, line 1:  do you need this?  Put flames spew on a line by itself . . .  maybe.  I'd say Grinner holds the reputation for. . . or maybe holds the rep for. . . S 3:  his flame has dimmed to a pilot light?  How can you know his dreams?  I struggle with this too:  to show, not tell dreams.  Maybe how he looks, stares, gazes?  I'd drop last couplet.  Telling. 

And mine was Mr. Todd.  But I loved him.  He was a tough old codger. . . turned me in for skipping class, but I knew he liked me.  Taught me something about boundaries and limits.  Man, did I ever need those lessons!  : )


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