Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts

Thursday, February 23, 2012

"The Corner of My Eye"

"Star of Wisdom" by David Chapman

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a laughing ghost   
she morphs into my fancies     
as she alters my reality     
I sigh her name and capture her hand—     
but she vanishes into the mist of who I was     
so I release her when she smiles     
recognizing myself reflected in her twinkling eyes
         
"Dragon" by David Chapman

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a noble dragon     
she sparkles with childhood jewels     
as she flies into view     
I reach out to touch her, to skip my fingers across her scales     
but she slips out of reach    
as she beckons me to follow her flight     
back to simple pleasures     

"Fairy Flute" by David Chapman

 
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a dancing fairy     
she glimmers with tomorrow’s blessings     
as she throws a kiss my way     
I long to turn my head and follow her as I boogie along     
but she’ll vanish from sight     
so I let her tease me and entrance me all day     
listening for her breath and the whisper of her wings     

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Thursday, October 27, 2011

“Halloween Parties”


         A long, long time ago, before legislators decided children shouldn’t have parties during school hours. each holiday ushered in festivities that took weeks of preparation. The first major celebration found hallways papered with witches, jack-o-lanterns, and black cats with backs hunched in fright. Cut-out bats swooped from the ceilings and gravestones with ghosts peeking over them paraded down the walls of the hallways. Halloween meant mothers sent candied apples, popcorn balls, and cupcakes to school for the afternoon party. Everyone wore a costume for the day (and not some favorite character from a book). Some teachers played records with screeches and howls, and ghostly music while others read scary stories. Almost every year, one teacher would read “Little Orphan Annie” where “the Gobble-uns/ ‘at gits you/ Ef you/ Don’t/ Watch/ Out!” All of the students would march from class to class to trick-or-treat, and the day ended with a party back in your own room. Games like “Seven Up” and “Poor Pussy” kept us busy all afternoon.

         My teaching career began at a junior high school that encompassed seventh, eighth, and ninth graders—all too cool for wearing Halloween costumes to school, but still longing for some special way to mark the day. In those long ago days, teachers could still bring candy to school, and I’d hand out treats to my students. I’d drop the shades, turn off the lights, and delight my students with “The Tell Tale Heart.” Some classes would play “Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board” where one student would volunteer to be our dead body while another would chant the spooky tale of death; and with the help of five other students, we’d levitate our “dead” student. Over a period of seven years, I never had a single parent complain that the activity exposed the children to Satan, witch craft, or paganism. Boy, have times changed!

         When I moved up to teach English and Psychology at our high school, I found myself back with students who longed to roam the hallways in costumes. Leaving behind the awkward pre-teen years, this older age group donned bold and creative outfits. Our day of celebration included all the favorite music, poetry and stories plus original masterpieces written by my students and shared with the class. Our studies ranged from Poe to Stephen King as students determined the elements of horror within a story.

         Somewhere along the line, some parents in some Texas town or city complained about the celebration of Halloween within public schools. Little by little our state legislature chipped away at the traditions I enjoyed in my own childhood. The same mentality that we can use standardized testing to measure the value of our students and our schools seeped into many of the small delights of teaching and learning. I am thankful that creative teachers and principals find a way to still bring Halloween celebrations onto some campuses.    

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Friday, August 26, 2011

“Ghost”

Time pauses   
            when I dream of you   
                        Reversing—   
                                    pulling me back through years   
            until I hear   
                        your booming laughter ricochet     
            You appear before me   
            I embrace your solidity   
                        catch a whiff of Old Spice,   
                                    pipe tobacco   
            My tiny hand clutches yours   
            I am your child   
                       again   
                                    looking up into your deep brown eyes   
            You swing me up   
                        high onto your shoulders   
            I pat your chin—rough, unshaven   
                        Suddenly   
                                    We stand in my front yard   
                                                hugging goodbyes   
                                                promising another visit   
            Plans cancelled by death   

Time pauses   
            when I dream of you   
                        Reversing—   
                                    pulling me back through years   
            until I stand   
                        alone in the night   
            Suffering under the weight of grief   
            Conjuring you with my heartbreak   
                        your voice rises with enthusiasm   
                                    strengthens with determination     
            We argue politics   
            We agree to disagree   
                        again  
                                    looking into your deep brown eyes    
            You vanish   
                        leaving me sorrowful   
            Regretting silly squabbles   
                        Suddenly   
                                    I stand alone   
                                                searching for you     
                                                listening for your essence   
            Knowing you are gone forever   


Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

“The Corner of My Eye”


Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a laughing ghost  
she morphs into my fancies  
as she alters my reality  
I sigh her name and capture her hand—  
but she vanishes into the mist of who I was  
so I release her when she smiles    
recognizing myself reflected in her twinkling eyes      

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a noble dragon  
she sparkles with childhood jewels  
as she flies into view  
I reach out to touch her, to skip my fingers across her scales  
but she slips out of reach  
as she beckons me to follow her flight  
back to simple pleasures   

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a dancing fairy  
she glimmers with tomorrow’s blessings   
as she throws a kiss my way  
I long to turn my head and follow her as I boogie along  
but she’ll vanish from sight     
so I let her tease me and entrance me all day     
listening for her breath and the whisper of her wings  

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman