Bedtime Prayer

Bedtime Prayer

You tuck us in every night,
gently kiss our foreheads,
but after you slowly close the door,
we are left to face the nightmares.

“Now you lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
Father, unto thee I pray,
Thou hast guarded me all day”

I hear the light rain
outside my window,
not even loud enough
for the pitter patter.

A low hum.
He hears in the quiet
the whimpers of those
who need a gentle hand.
Where is He who sees all,
hears all, and knows all.

“Safe I am while in thy sight,
Safely let me sleep tonight
Keep me every in thy sight;
So to all I say good night.”

The Remnant

The Remnant

Everyone is an artist—
each generation starts out as a blank canvas.

My generation paints a beach.
We are the footprints in the sand:
outstretched toes reaching for firm ground,
longing for purpose,
desiring guidance.

I am a grain of sand—a remnant
My generation walks close to the ocean,
the rushing water reaches out,
its fingertips touching some footprints,
and grasping others back to the dark blue abyss.

Everyone is given their own brush,
able to paint their own sand;
able to become,
a remnant

Theories of Time and Space

I wrote my Trethewey essay on her first poem in the book Native Guard on “Theories of Time and Space.” I also just wanted to say I had an assignment for English 355 American Romanticism in which we had to choose one of Walt Whitman’s poems to perform an oral interpretation and discussion from Song of Myself. I just wanted to say that I chose section 46 and I was wonderfully able to connect it to Trethewey’s poem.
The first line in Whitman’s poem is “I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and never will be measured.”
I immediately fell in love with this poem because I had just finished Trethewey and when I read the “time and space” I thought the two might be connected. As I went on to read the poem, he mentioned a “perpetual journey” and also saying how we “are also asking me questions and I hear you, I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself.” I thought this was so cool because in my essay I discussed how her poem was a metaphor for a journey we were about to take through reading her book of poems and how we might be changed in the end because of it. And here Whitman is talking about a journey and he will show us, but it is up to us to go out and see for ourselves and find out own answers and make of it what we will.

All this was a little bit of a short summary, but I thought it was cool and maybe it might be of interest.

Here’s the poem of Whitman if you want to check it out!

I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and
never will be measured.
I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!)
My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut from the woods,
No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair,
I have no chair, no church, no philosophy,
I lead no man to a dinner-table, library, exchange,
But each man and each woman of you I lead upon a knoll,
My left hand hooking you round the waist,
My right hand pointing to landscapes of continents and the public road.
Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you,
You must travel it for yourself.
It is not far, it is within reach,
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know,
Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.
Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth,
Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go.
If you tire, give me both burdens, and rest the chuff of your hand
on my hip,
And in due time you shall repay the same service to me,
For after we start we never lie by again.
This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look’d at the crowded heaven,
And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs,
and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we
be fill’d and satisfied then?
And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.
You are also asking me questions and I hear you,
I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself.
Sit a while dear son,
Here are biscuits to eat and here is milk to drink,
But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes, I kiss you
with a good-by kiss and open the gate for your egress hence.
Long enough have you dream’d contemptible dreams,
Now I wash the gum from your eyes,
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every
moment of your life.
Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout,
and laughingly dash with your hair.

Read more: Walt Whitman: Song of Myself, Part 46 |

LGBTQ Quick Question!

Over Thanksgiving Break I visited my relatives in Pennsylvania and I was talking with them about a play I was practicing for one of my theatre classes. When they asked what the play was about, I told them that it was a Gay Fantasia called Angels in America. Immediately they were outraged and said that they were glad they never went to a “Liberal College.” [They are all devout Catholics]. Anyways whenever they saw me studying my lines for the play they would talk amongst themselves about how they don’t understand why we are studying that play of all plays or why our school is paying attention to “30% of the population.”
I started to think about this theory that we were studying [LGBTQ] and wondered what has changed that has brought this topic to be written about in Lois Tyson’s book? I don’t agree with my relatives, nor have I ever really been exposed to such hostility towards the subject, but I just became curious as to what has changed over the last 30 or so years since they were in school/college growing up and now for us? Is liberal colleges really different in terms of our openness than other colleges and their view towards this kind of theory or this topic, or allowing this to be a discussion at such a high level of education?

We’re Almost There…….

For anyone who goes to Professor Scanlon’s office hours as much as I do…..
Does anybody ever feel like they enter with their essay at….lets say 1000 words.
And when we leave to go home and edit, we end up with 1500 words. Then every time after that, when you see her the numbers just keep increasing…and increasing….and increasing.

Just me?

Passion Play And Theatre Elements

I’m working on an extra credit assignment for my theatre class about Sarah Ruhl’s Passion Play, and I was wondering what you all thought about the protagonist/antagonist/and especially the climax might be? What’s interesting about this play is that it is separated in three Acts, but repeating the same kind of story line in each [although the era’s are different]. I thought about exploring the idea that maybe the Village Idiot would be considered the protagonist and antagonist might be Pontius?? The climax is interesting though depending if you look at the acts as separate plays or take all the acts into account and try to analyze which would be considered the climax.

Any thoughts?

Early is the new trend!

In light of Thanksgiving Break falling right before our final essay and collaborative articles are due, I thought that this short clip might lighten the mood 😀


And if you are wondering, yes, I am trying to write my essay now while I was searching and then watching this clip.

Emily Dickinson && Poetry

I’m in American Romanticism and we are reading Emily Dickinson and discussed in class about how to read the poems.

Our professor suggested to read any of her poems with the tune of Yellow Rose of Texas [youtube][/youtube]

Good news, after she played the tune over and over again, it worked when we read the lines!

Since we are talking about poetry, I thought this might be a relevant blog post 🙂


A lot of discussion took place in today’s class and a lot of examples were also given in today’s time.

I would just like to say that when I was a senior in High School I was learning how to be a soccer coach and I had a mentor who has worked with some players of the women’s national team and is also a somewhat high ranked coach in the U.S. However, he and I had many heated conversations (we rarely saw eye to eye since he was vary in sync with the patriarchy idea and men are always right). One particular conversation was about how I may be a good enough coach one day to be his assistant coach and he told me “I will never have a female assistant coach.” And when I asked why he began to proceed to tell me to look at all the top coaches, whether in basketball or soccer, and to tell him how many of those coaches were female. He went into a lot more details, but the basis was that females were too emptiness and involved in the “warm” and “fuzzies” or the sport and therefore weren’t capable of coaching successful, professional teams.

For any athletes that are interested in the topic of “warm and fuzzies” when it comes to coaches being soft on players or being accused of “being their friend,” this was a video that was sent to me from one of my High School coaches with whom I shared the previous conversation with. If you don’t know who the speaker in the video is, he is considered a top 2 or 3 coach in the NBA and he has won an NBA Championship with the Celtics as a coach.



What if the red sky in part three represents salvation and the resurrection of Christ?
On page 127 P says, “red sky at night, sailor’s delight, red sky in at morning, sailors take warning.” And on page 154 when the sky turns white.
I think the sky turning red represents the blood of Jesus as he hangs on the cross, but when he is resurrected that represents the morning. So the white represents the morning which is purity, innocence, salvation, but the red represents the violence and the grotesque sin from nailing Jesus to the cross. What P might be alluding to is if Jesus wasn’t our savior the sky would be red in the morning, but if it is white we are all saved and He is who He says He is.