rushing down the hall
on a mission of mercy
to coax or defend
to steady amidst chaos
the principal has our back
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Dexta Jean was raised in Arkansas, but her maternal ancestral home is Puerto Rico. She is a poet, a painter, a pilgrim, a mother, and a new Gigi. She also takes her conceptual art pieces and travels the region delivering "art sermons." She considers both poetry and visual art as powerful conduits to initiate discourse on the failings and celebrations of the human condition. Dexta Jean teaches college writing and is a doctoral candidate in the field of art leadership. She loves to laugh and sit among her ferns, hostas, and koi in her peace garden.
rushing down the hall
on a mission of mercy
to coax or defend
to steady amidst chaos
the principal has our back
this is our safe place
take a rest, a bite, a pee
welcome teacher’s lounge
Performing in front of parents is a collective moment of shared humiliation. The umbilical cord connecting them to their parents weakens a little under the harsh stage lights that bleach their eye sockets and inextricably and tightly binds them into a group.
dangling astronauts
grasping for the escape hatch
just to stay afloat
blue and red pancake
round and round and round she goes
leave her alone please
are you married and
how old are you teacher and
do you have children?
mind your manners child
it is not polite to ask
yes I am twenty
Mimosa blossoms
shine like orbs of tiny suns
raining pink feathers
to count to three and
after eat the M&M’s
all week he struggles
flicker of light in his eyes
his victory is short-lived
the first day they learn
conveyor belt of children
red apple for lunch
the scent of childhood
butterflies, sailboats and fish
break out the crayons
a train lumbering
spray painted rusty cars
children stop their play
they face an alien beast
each day — it never gets old