Got a Crush on Teacher

I.  Infatuation: Only In My Dreams.

Let him dwell there

where he wants to go now,

now that he’s freshly hatched.

Let him poke about his head

where he wills

now that he’s welcome.

Give him the benefit of the privilege

of cohabiting with your plans,

your illusions, your hazy moments

between sleep and reality.

Let him stare at you at his will

at his whim, at his time

let him be, until no more.

II.  Differing Realms.

When I nod with them

in agreement that you’re just an illusion,

I wonder at the authenticity

of my indrawn breath

whenever I witness your approach.

I wonder at the rush of clear air

entering my head

as your shoulders advance to the vicinity

of my aural space.

For I haven’t seen anything more real

than your bespectacled face,

moisturized with exotic genes and whatnot,

open to my guarded scrutiny.

For I haven’t heard anything more real

than your carefree voice,

rich with the realities of your existence,

at times rude, at times erudite.

When I nod with them, I mean to agree

that your realness is beyond my realm of defined possibilities.

III. Letting Be.
Photo by Sean Kong

You’re a detached performer

fulfilling your obligations to your freedom,

always in the present

until all the presents are gone;

so that I have no notion of the future

where you’re concerned,

me, a silent bystander with arms akimbo,

always as watchful as a dumb sheep.

(March 8, 2000)

Author: frausiacor

I'm sharing with you bits of my work on the biblical commandment to honor parents. Moreover, someday I'll have a nice flower and herb garden.

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