Author: boz bozeman

Braver

/ boz bozeman / 12 Comments

I’m not always good at the struggle. Especially after 30 years of teaching, it can be really difficult to confront a misbehaving class and find constructive ways to change the situation. It’s stressful and exhausting. I mean, it’s like how many times do I have to overcome the same challenges.

At least one more time, I guess.

These lyrics were in my head this morning, and I’m so happy they were. They are from the song “Braver” by my favorite band 311. The dashed words are mine. 

I know you say you're done
I know you wanna run
---- but I have to be ----
Braver, braver than anyone
Braver than anyone
Braver than anyone

I’m presently teaching a class that makes me want to say I’m done, and makes me want to run. But of course, neither is possible unless I quit. 

The day I wanted 
To walk away, leave teaching
Inspired progress

Instead of walking away, I had to be brave. It’s has taken bravery to bring my administrators in on the problem. In my early career, it was risky to admit that you were having a hard time with a group. It felt like you were risking your job. Now, the model has changed, and the admin is supposed to advise without evaluating the teacher negatively. It’s also brave to confront a problem that seems to have no solution. 

Brave enough to change
Courage to admit weakness
Find a better way

Getting advice and talking openly with my students has given me insight into ways that the problems can be fixed. And that we can do it together. Bravery isn’t temporary; it has to become the way.

Thanks to tankstuesday for this challenge!

A Little Negativity for Tanka Tuesday

/ boz bozeman / 8 Comments

The challenge on TankaTuesday this week was to use synonyms for promise and comfort. My mind did not go to it’s usual happy place, so enjoy a bit of a downer.

Some things can't be soothed.
A broken vow can't be fixed.
Safety is shattered.
The pledge's soothing assurance
Split into sharp edged pieces.

Macbeth Witch’s Brew Tanka

/ boz bozeman / 2 Comments

I used these ingredients from Macbeth to create my witch’s brew tanka for Tanka Tuesday: Eye of newt, toe of frog, tongue of dog, owl’s wing, adders fork and blind worms sting. 

Newt pirate eye patch
A cane for the frog to match!
No more yelping dog:
Its tongue licking owl wing,
Adders fork and blind worms sting.

Three Waves

/ boz bozeman / 14 Comments

The Tanka Tuesday challenge was to use words from this word garden:

I chose wave, two, sail and castle

I wrote three Tankas focused on different meanings of the word “wave”, and included the words “two”, “sail” and “castle” to focus my wavy theme. 

1.
Still water sailing
Contemplating smallest waves
Powerful enough
To lift our heavy boat up
Working with the ocean's strength

2.
She is first to wave
The only movement within
The stillest moment
And then we break free, smiling,
Surging, running, embracing.

3.
Thick brick and cold stone
An edifice of power.
A castle's defense
Has no strength to stop the wave
Flowing force of joy and love.

Not a humdrum or mindless poem

/ boz bozeman / 10 Comments

The tankatuesday challenge this week is to write a tanka based on the words “humdrum” and “mindless” without using those words.

I always try to catch myself when I allow this miraculous existence to become dull. It’s easy to coast through life without appreciation. Today’s sunrise was another glorious reminder. 

It's the sun again
Same old fireball rising
Boring miracle.
Wait! That's not like me at all
I crave its light and its heat.

Tanka Puente for Tankatuesday

/ boz bozeman / 6 Comments

A Tanka Puente is a a tanka poem with a prose bridge between two parts. Mine is about my frustrated ambition to be published by a publishing company. Thanks as always to tankatuesday for the prompt. 

Living inspired
Magic and my characters
Alive and speaking
My thoughts my words my stories
My world becoming the world

~My love of writing is not enough. My ambition requires publication.~

Success desired
Acceptance by publishers
Close calls, rejections
Not enough for me because
My dreams stride across the world

One of the Biggest Bears Yet!

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I was driving home from a hike with Anna. She was in the back seat. I turn the corner to my road and see a SUV backing out of our driveway. Not too surprising because we’re the first on the road, and a lot of people turn around in it.

But it’s actually my former neighbor Petra, who was visiting her parents next door. She lowered her sunglasses and said, “You have a bear in your yard.”

I looked up to see the enormous black hump of a strolling bear in my front yard.

I said “I sure do!”

After I said thanks, I rolled up into my driveway as it was hidden by brush and trees. This gave me time to park near the garage and get my camera out. It was nice having Anna safe in the car, leaving me free to film without worrying about her.

The bear obliged by walking very slowly into the frame and through the back yard. I got it centered on my screen, and then was able to watch it live. It’s haunches were unbelievably powerful, and vibrated with every step.

See for yourself and scan the QR below for my Instagram reel. Or search @bozbozeman on Insta and give me a follow if you’d like!

Not my first bear video

The Smokers Are Outside Now

/ boz bozeman / 2 Comments 
All the ashtrays have been emptied 
The ashes blown to dust 
Long ago. 

The decorative stone ones, 
The ceramic one your mother made, 
The heavy one that was thick and gemlike 
Faceted, bending light. 

That one was too nice, 
It made the ashes seem dirtier. 

The cheap metal ones, bent up at four sides 
That I had in college in ‘91. 
That one was on the dresser: 
The one I fished half smoked butts out of, 
Careless of the last lips that held them.  

The souvenir one that once said Canada, 
The red word on the clear glass
And the maple leaf on the bottom
Faded and chipped away. 

The smokers are outside now, 
Or quit, 
Or dead. 

The ashtrays are in landfills, 
In forgotten boxes in the dark cellar, 
Dim corners behind old books. 

Existing in their decay, 
Fading to ashes. 
Returning to dust.

Ode to Wasps

/ boz bozeman / 2 Comments

I don’t like to kill things. But when you own a home, pest management is pretty important. And wasps are a dangerous kind of pest.

For years, I only took down nests when they were in an obviously problematic place. That changed a little the summer I got stung in the palm by a wasp in my office. I got a little more aggressive about getting them away from the house.

This year, the first nest that had to go was in the kindling bin. It was still very small, and there were only three wasps associated with it. It must have been the queen I watched making it, excreting wood pulp and saliva to make the hexagons. It’s an intricate and fascinating process, and I reverence the creativity and ingenuity of nature exposed by it.

Though I’m glad people don’t make things that way. Ewww.

I wasn’t happy to take them out, but I can’t get stung every time I want to build a fire. I got them in the morning when they were gathered together, and took no pleasure in their twitching end.

Then there was the nest INSIDE the screen door that we found when we had family over. Patty got stung, so I took care of that one right way. Maybe took a little revenge satisfaction with their demise.

Finally, I had to take out the one in the hot tub cover. Getting stung takes away a bit of the pleasure of a soak.

I don’t like having to do this. All this time, there’s been a nest under the deck. Those wasps have not bothered us, so there it stays. I’d rather not go get them, and I hope the season ends before I need to.

5 Crows and a Hawk

/ boz bozeman / 6 Comments

There are five crows that hang out in our yard. I wanted them to be ravens, so I could pretend that Odin was guarding the yard. But the internet deflated this fantasy: they are indeed crows.

I really shouldn’t want more. They are GREAT crows. One day, I was sitting in the backyard, and they were perched in the trees along the property border. They began cawing, and then one took off, flew down steeply, banked around the power line pole, then accelerated back up to the starting branch.

This was cool, but then one by one they each did the same thing. The waiting crows cawed loudly, as if encouraging their mate. As they continued to fly around the pole, it was clear that they were playing. Not only that, it seemed like this was a type of drill, practicing maneuvers that would be useful in the wild. 

Crows call a challenge
Leap, rise, stoop into a dive
Tilt, twist, bend their path
Beat down wings to rise again
Cawing cheers upon return

I return to this remarkable memory whenever I see them. I thought this would always be the high point, until last week. That’s when I saw one of the crows and a hawk together. Flying together.

The crow led, the hawk followed, beak almost to the crow’s tailfeathers. At first, I thought the hawk might be chasing the crow away, perhaps from a vulnerable nest. But as they flew, curving, diving, flying into tree shadow and reemerging, it became obvious that they were playing.

Thankfully Patty was there to witness this, or this would have been another of my partly believed strange animal stories. 

The crow and the hawk
Fly aligned, dive together
United by flight
Transcending their barriers
Darting, flapping, rising, one.

The reality of these birds is so much better than my mythological fantasy. Still, I’d like to think Odin would be proud to have them in his real world.

This post is part of a poetry challenge at http://www.tankatuesday.com