Overcome Your Boredom: An Ode to Professor Bruinius of Journalism Literature Class. I Thank You.

I remember it like it was yesterday

And to tell the truth

 Usually I don't remember much.

For every moment is already a memory

And you never realize you're making memories

When you're making memories,

But those memories are the masters of

Molding meaning into life.

I remember how much I hated the class hours,

And how I couldn't fathom surviving A week of classes.

I remember being blown away by

Professor Bruinius’ passion,

The first week of classes.

I remember how it motivated my efforts;

Always feeling the need to

Ensure my work was up to par.

I will remember all the time travel we did:

Diving in-and-out of stories,

Living through the voices of those who came and left.

I will remember the unutterable resonance of

‘The Case for Reparations’, ‘Coyotes’ and ‘In Cold Blood’.

I will remember how ‘In Cold Blood’ made my Blood run cold.

I will remember it even when the pages have browned, and the illusion of time, tries to convince me that I've gotten old.

I will remember the rule of thirds,

Not to over dramatize when dealing with a heavy subject,

and to always read my work out loud.

When it feels like there isn't much to be sure of

I will be sure to remember that one thing

Was always for sure:

The Tangents,

The pleasing smile on his face that

accompanied the profoundness in his voice.

I enjoyed each of those moments,

I will remember it all.

And of all the things you've given me to remember,

What I will remember the most is this:

A pleasing pause,

A gentle ease onto the front of his desk,

The anticipation in the silence

As he took his glasses off,

The ticking of the clock that taught us patience

As we waited.

He looks down, and then up, and then out at us.

“OVERCOME YOUR BOREDOM”

Rode on the wave of a very serene smile.

There's another pause, but I tuck his words away

Not Worrying of the passing time.

I remember it like it was yesterday

And to tell the truth, usually I don't remember much,

But the greatest lessons often lie in things

That hands only would have dreamt to touch.