The grade…

women s white and black dress shirt
Photo by Victoria Borodinova on

This piece was written when I was on the cusp of recognizing that pursuing an advanced degree was not in my best interest.


The grade…


Work, study, work, study

read, read, read.

Prepared in every way I could,

But did I really?


Test arrived via e-mail.

Panic, panic, panic…


Worked as hard as I could.


Tight timeframe:

Kids needed me,

Test needed me,

I needed me.


Do I really want this?

Do I really need this?

Do I really know this?

Why am I doing this?




Stay groovy…


(Copyright 2018 Susie Krivacic)







wood houses school old
Photo by Skitterphoto on

I recently embarked on a new career direction. I am still an educator, but I have moved to an online platform. One of the challenges I faced teaching in a traditional classroom was my low tolerance for the extreme noise level. Luckily, teaching online allows me to do what I love without having to hear the mind-numbing din. The poem below reflects upon that maddening period of my life working in a traditional brick and mortar school.



Susie Krivacic


Pencil starts tapping:





Pages turning:





Gum snapping:





Knuckles cracking:





Foot tapping:








and cough.





and cough.


Clear the throat;

Rub the nose.

Clear the throat;

Rub the nose.


Computer keys:

Tap, tap, tap,

tap, tap, tap,

tap, tap, tap.


Printer buzzes:





Voices whisper:



and louder still.





and conversing.


Up out of a seat,

a figure runs into a desk.

“Ouch!” Tim bellows.

“I need a band-aid,” he whimpers.


“Patty said a bad word!” Mary hollers.

“No, I didn’t,” Patty retorts.

“You both said a bad word,” Sarah interjects.

“Stupid’s not a bad word,” Joe clarifies.


Maddie bumps her head.

Johnathan skins his knee.

They beg for the clinic passes

to get ice to soothe a bump.


“You’d better stop running!”

“You’d better stop calling me names!”

“You’d better stop grabbing my arm!”

“You’d better stop looking at me!”







Inside my head, my mind screams,

“SHUT UP!!!!!”

Instead, I clap my hands in a rhythm to gain the focus of the students.

They respond by echoing my clap.


All is quiet for a moment.


Pencil starts tapping…


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018






Sunday morning…

woman reading a book in the bed
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on

Sunday Morning

Susie Krivacic

Oh, the lazy wonder of a Sunday morning,

as you sleep as late as desired.

I have breakfast in bed…

or at least coffee…(in my case Diet Coke).

Oh, the lazy wonder of a Sunday morning,

with no dashing about to get breakfast for a hungry brood.

There are no frantic searches for underwear, socks,

or just the right sweater for my teenage daughter.

Oh, the lazy wonder of a Sunday morning,

when the day is open, and the possibilities are endless.

There are very few “have to” and more “want to”

on the agenda. I don’t know what the day will bring, and I love it!

Oh, the lazy wonder of a Sunday morning:

Wouldn’t it be incredible if we could transfer

this relaxed attitude to the weekdays?

Then again, if that were the case, I might appreciate Sunday less…

Stay groovy…

Susie Krivacic

Copyright 2018 Susie Krivacic

The door…

architectural design architecture brick wall bricks
Photo by Skitterphoto on

The Door

Susie Krivacic


There’s a door that stands across the room.

It’s the door you’ve used for years.

When you saunter through that tried and true door,

you’re sure to face no fears.

For that door holds all that you currently know.

It holds all that you think you need.

But a few meters down stands another door,

and you don’t know where it will lead.

You can only go through one door at a time.

Who knows why that’s the way?

But if you choose the current reliable door,

you’ll get the same result each day.

So as you face two opposing doors,

consider this small game.

You can leave your life just as is,

or try for something not quite the same.

Stay groovy…

Susie Krivacic

Copyright 2018 Susie Krivacic

The unknown artist…

photo of bartender pouring draught beer
Photo by Anna Kapustina on


I know an artist who works her day job so she can toil away awaiting her big break…


The Unknown Artist


She tends bar in the evening

and waits tables as well.

So she can explore her passion:

her art.


During the day she winds metal,

and solders as well

as she creates unique pieces:

her art.


She hopes to see her gems

on the necks of others.

It’s a walking business card:

her art.


She adores clients like me

because I tend to buy

her work right off of her neck:

her art.


When inquiries are made

about the designs that I wear,

I joyfully share:

her art.


She hopes others will purchase

any item she makes,

and experience the love:

her art.


But still night after night

she tends bar and waits tables,

so she can work on her craft:

her art.


Will she ever make it big?

So she can devote all her time

to what drives her passion?

Her art.


Stay groovy…


Copyright 2018 Susie Krivacic

Ramble on…

three women holding clear glasses
Photo by ELEVATE on

So in a search for self-awareness, I bring you the poem below. When originally written, I did not recognize that one of the individuals rambling on just might have been me. After some reflection and much editing, I embrace this piece as somewhat autobiographical…I try to bring new ideas to light, however, I may need to simply stop and listen.


Ramble On


No one listens, and no one hears.

We’ve lost the use of both our ears.

People babble and ramble on.

I sit and listen, stifling a yawn.


They talk and talk and talk all day.

Constantly sharing… “What more to say?”

Verbiage spewed with such great speed.

How many words do we really need?


Opinions are strong and oh so defined.

Contrasting views are hotly maligned.

I listen with contempt and spite

at ideas and concepts that are beyond trite.


Perhaps I should pause and identify me

as one of these ramblers. I should take time to see

all views are valuable and definitely wise.

I must open my ears to recognize.


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018


Getting off drugs is hell…

assorted medication capsules
Photo by on


Getting Off Drugs is Hell


Irritability, flu-like symptoms, lethargy,

discomfort, pissy mood, anger,

and that’s just the beginning.

I’m getting off drugs.


But here’s the peculiar part:

These are drugs prescribed by my doctor.

They are drugs designed to help me.

They serve the purpose of alleviating other symptoms.


What they didn’t tell me is the hell I’d go through

when it’s time to change up my medication.

“So start with one half the usual dose,” the doctor recommends.

“You’ll do this for a few days, and then half the dose again.”


It sounds simple enough until the withdrawal symptoms start.

I’m a bitch. A grumpy, beastly, no fun bitch.


I have to go through this to be ready for a new medication that will “help” me.


You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

So I find myself pondering an issue.

I’m taking these drugs for medicinal reasons with the guidance of my physician.

So why the fuck would someone take non-prescribed illegal drugs?


You know that at some point you’ll stop taking the drugs (hopefully).

Do you really want to go through the torture if you don’t have to?

Use your head, you idiot…

Say NO!!!!!!!!!!


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018