I am a teacher, a poet, a writer of prose, a song-writer, a singer, a guitarist. I substitute teach right now and work at a grocery store as a cashier/utility clerk. I've lived in more than twenty places across sixty years and have raised four children as a stay at home parent. I am single now, my former spouse is now married and my kids are almost all over 30, just one lingering at 28. My third child has two sons, 11 and 5 she's a single mom right now. My son teaches at a university. My eldest daughter runs her own business. My youngest two daughters are personal care workers with adults who have multiple disabilities. I have worked in retail, personal care, education, been and executive director of youth programs. All the while, I've been just a writer. An Introduction to RavenDelcor I have no expectations for this site other than for me to use it well. I have no intention to take someone else's words and turn them into a platform of criticism. I do not feel as though I can improve anyone else's prose or poetry. My spelling is goofy and usually makes reading kinda fun to find out if I really know the difference between message and massage. I do when they happen, I don't always when I spell them. That said, I am a teacher, at the middle-school, high school level and can teach social studies and history. I have a degree in social studies and a degree in history from two different colleges. I worked towards a Master's in Special Education but funds ran out and, well ... . I have substituted and have done well in that aspect of teaching. I help students realize what motivates them to learn and them help them to apply that to what is in front of them. The school system really does not address the needs of students, no system that organizes in a linear fashion ever will. I like special ed because there is more leverage for me to tweek the curriculum in the name of educating my students. Tweeking is fun, because I allow student input. I write. I wrote my first serious poem when I was in sixth grade. I used to play with words a lot before then. I have tried writing novels, love the process, and have a few in the live working files still. I wrote a memoir that is currently being added to because I felt it necessary to go a bit beyond where I had written. It is about what one learns growing up in a household that permits child abuse. It is not a "Mommie Dearest" type of book, it is about how I abandoned my childhood and suppressed the good part of me. It is sort of a journey with my inner child, and I find it more fascinating to write and revise as a process of self discovery. If you need to know more about me, I am sure that it shall be revealed in some of what I write here, however, ask. I tend to be shy, in the corner, until drawn out and then I get hammy and difficult to quiet down. So ask and then I'll do the best to respond. I am creative and positive most of the time and can also be compassionate and intuitive at times too. I like smiles, it is a revolution for us all to smile at as many people in loving ways as possible every day. Smile
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,"
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more.
"The Raven (excerpt)" by Edgar Allan Poe. Public domain.