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Introspection School Poems | Introspection Poems About School

These Introspection School poems are examples of Introspection poems about School. These are the best examples of Introspection School poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

hahahahaha i have no idea what to title this

help mrs. muse is gone and my mind is shooting blanks 
my friend called inspiration is trying to walk the plank 

motivation just married mr lazy 
and confidence started acting really crazy 

cousin common sense is on vacation out of town 
and aunt intelligence is nowhere to be found 

uncle rational is at the casino gambling his life away 
and my best friend happiness never wants to stay 

my neighbor opportunity doesnt knock on my door anymore 
and my girlfriend love is really just a whore 

my partner pride is always full of himself 
and sister sympathy is busy with someone else 

grandpa wisdom is smart enough not to say a word 
and grandma compassion is seen but never heard 

the only friends that ever come to town 
is anger and disgust and they always hang around 

my high school sweat heart infatuation doesnt really call 
and my childhood friend imagination doesnt exist at all 

Copyright © John Castro

Details | Free verse | |


Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.

Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.

Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.

God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."

Copyright © Pace INK-U-SCRIPT

Details | List | |

Lost in Youth

Lost in Youth

Rainbows in the clouds, walking on  railroad tracks , locomotives up close 
Kickball games , I am left footed, spooky reflections in a mirror, running naked 
Wooden desks and chairs, kids in the classroom , the little girl across the street 
Black and white T.V., Air conditioning , a new blue car, exhaust  fumes
The farm, coal fired furnace , warm heating ducts 
a collie , a cocker spaniel and a horse named Thunder
Dark starry nights , telescopes , comets and satellites
Northern winters, snow covered fields ,sledding, frozen lakes , and Orion 
Camping in fields , mosquitoes bites , quiet dawns and heavy morning  dew,  
Grandparents ,riding  lawn mowers , apple trees , flower and vegetable gardens
 Southern Summers , warm muggy nights , ceiling  fans ,open screened windows
Screened in porches, ancient toys, , tiny  transistor radios, baseball games  talking late into the night 
Badminton , side lawns , and long rides home
Public pools , icy waters and underwater swims 
Trombone , marching band and high school football games
Sleepy classes, friends , lunchroom games, and girls 
High school graduation , college and final goodbyes

Copyright © jim joyce

Details | Free verse | |

Interalphabetnet sex stew

Primose path leads to the slaughter of American
dream delete pause proficiency with internetty
webbegone after thoughts of yahoo googleyed 
interred intracacises that shed benign capsules of
 mom entary apple pie delquiences cooling 
the soul shopping for the next alias avenue of
pointless me procurement mauling an ongoing
onerous dildodate vis a vie in 
an engaging omnipresence of sextext no tact
spell ckeck chicshicshakplak no sense tic tac.
Talk? Walk? Balk? Chalk? Sue? Sulk? 
Dinosaur diligence posse with the senior
gestages gestulating, we r forevre 21 and ying yang 
dung. Yes, good f ing luck with that!! Look at your 
petridish parents and see what box u check to lid close
and abscond with the lost liberal leftovers. That
is you in reverse in a few carnal years after Hilter youth
children decide to screw us as the new 
generation which skewer post present parental postulates 
to the oldster outhouse outlets so u can be "youf" free. Little
do they notknow as they cumulatively co opulate 
that they set the stooge stage for no thanx ahole actions. 
The DOS does'nt fall from the Apple tree. Leave it, 
love it, learn it while ye may, the kid crisp cosmos of
offspring social dicktates are biting at your heartbeatbit 
empty elmo enterprises. Pause parenatal prenatal
preferences prepearing perinatal persons pretasking
postnatal practices, in which you have veno papa preparation.
Think before you For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge and Analyze
your ass-incarnate initiate. Borrow berofe u basterdize, 
condomize before u copu culminate, decide before
u dicktate, envision before u envy, fail before u foil, 
grasp before u germinate, halt before u hinder, 
illuminate before u illerate, jump before u jinx, 
kill before u keep, love before u lay, meaning before
moaning, neutralize before u now, obilerate before
u ooops! presence before predicament, quit before
quake, resilience before ridiculous, sanity before
sexusensuality, thinkth before u thumpth, utilize
before u unionize, victory before victimization, we 
before want, xx nor xy, zen before zeal. Pocket 
passion files fly in the face of ruined reason residules
to the point of pronounced perplextion plagued 
prominantly with no recall references to problematic 
protocals for near north normalicies in my buckeye
life measures of simpatico silly symbiosis sublime
of mini me monophile mucous made misdemeanor
milktoast memories. Pass go, collect $200.

Copyright © Dave Collins

Details | Free verse | |

Dreams of Louisiana

Dimly lit, I sit
in a Mexican kitchen
near the Tropic of Cancer.
A TV is tuned
to inane noises;
dogs at my feet,
oranges in a bowl
on a table:
a specific place and time.
And I am dreaming --
dreaming of Louisiana
in twilight hours --
dreaming of short winter days and
summer's green, bright mornings.
Country time, mostly empty,
was quiet, seldom interrupted
by human utterance;
but my busy brain
was full of fantasy
and subterfuge.
The world was new, was big,
was yet to be explored;
possibilities seemed endless.
Oak and cypress,
willows, pines -- and magnolias --
were all around, and cane fields
stretched for miles.
The bayous that had always been there
were there still.
Change was slow in coming
and childhood lasted long.
I dream now of Louisiana:
poignant vignettes... dreamy glimpses...
and all those slowly fading
recalled moments
of the past...

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Free verse | |

You're The Weak One


You’re the weak one, you’re a bully.  The weak one is definitely
not me.

The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.

So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.

Your weakness began on your first bullying day.

Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.

I actually feel a little sorry for you.

Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.

Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate. 

Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?

Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect, 
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.

	Al Johnson

Copyright © Al Johnson

Details | Couplet | |

Divisions Of A Philosophical Mind

Infant mind preferred scientist the best Whose brain worked off beat beneath a bird’s nest. Alas! Time told that I wasn’t at all gifted by god, So it was inconceivable to befriend sin, log and mod! Then was the school life, amazed with pilots and aero science, Flying free with strong wings was definitely nice! Someone told that people with hi-eyepower were not allowed The excuse was enough to drop the dream of being pilot-renowned. So I participated in school dramas with a secret fervor of acting, I was tired of seeing more and more talent; and decided of quitting. Music then became a part of my life; I started listening to all kinds I failed a school audition, so further working on it would be a sacrifice. So I began to grow tired of this endless game; grew tired of being tired And went on and on, writing this poem without fear of being fired! Because I had learnt my lesson too early, yet failed to see I had not There would certainly be better; hope was still to be the best shot.

Copyright © Swaujas Xavior Ae Pain

Details | Free verse | |


Sometimes friend
Often foe
How the years seem to flow
More quickly with each passing one
And less, it seems that we get done
With what years we’ve now left

Let this not, though,
Be our shame
Let us use each year the same
As we would use our waning breath
Until at last our earthly death
Does come, one final

by Donna Golden 

May 23, 2005 (A few months before my twenty year high school reunion!)

Copyright © Donna Golden

Details | Free verse | |

Social Change

my school colors 
brooks brothers navy blue 
and establishment gold 
were God-awful choices 
for Catholic girls 
being educated beyond 
their parents' means. 

seventeen, out of high school 
ready for life 
without restrictions 
I was prime 
for the times 
revolutionary ideas 
about life loving and living 
flower-power dreams 
unbelievably believable. 

twelve years of stateliness 
and I was ready 
for a tie-dyed change of mind 
opportunity came 
in a California cotillion 
formal dress not required. 

I left the "Beach Party" 
two piece red-checked 
belly-button cover-up behind 
and never looked back. 

Copyright © maggie flanaganwilkie

Details | I do not know? | |

The Speed of Life

In the childhood home her mother spins her child
Round and round we go happiness seems to overflow
And the childhood  goes by; faster, faster

A growing child with so much energy running and having fun
Careless and free he runs across the yard
He is growing up; faster, faster

Only in middle school and already a rebel
Sticking up for a friend and getting in a fight
He has courage but still he runs; faster, faster

High school has come at last
The odd man out he cries for attention
Into depression he spirals; faster, faster

At the high school prom he meets a girl
The hearts beet together and the music beats in their ears
They are falling madly in love; faster, faster

Barely a year and a kid on the way
To work and back the same routine, every hour, every day
A wedding is coming closer; faster, faster

So far a happy life, and a good career
They buy a home and outside he spins his child
Another childhood is going by; faster, faster

His life was long another one has started from it
But now the ambulance move; faster, faster
And his heartbeat fails; slower, slower

Copyright © Evan Zeitler

Details | Couplet | |

Robin Hood

Of all the trials and test this year
A lot of nerves, a lot of fear

By the grace of God I’m here to tell
It all ended up going very well

If life is a journey, school is a maze
A wonderful way to spend your days

So much diversity, so much culture
Feels so good to no longer be a vulture

Picking scraps up off the bone
Heart encased in a block of stone

I simply love being tender and true
Like a billowy cloud in a sky so blue

Floating on air for the world to see
Like a peacock strutting proud as can be

Yet, forever humble and forever true
Eyes no longer red they’re clear and blue

No longer living all tired and funky
I kicked the crap up out of my monkey

Kid’s gather to me like chicks to a trough
I welcome them in I never shrug them off

Which is truly as strange as strange can be
I once would have said, “Get away from me”

“Nothing in me should be considered good”
“You’re looking for a hero, I’m no Robin Hood”

Today, I’m first to school and first in my seat
With exuberance for life, which can’t be beat

With kids gathering to me looking to study
Listening in awe to their gray headed buddy

I’m forever speaking on life and all that it entails
Guiding my younger friends down happy trails

Being very careful to not criticize or judge
You can’t help someone holding a grudge 

I tell all the youngsters with a heart so true 
I traveled one hell of a road to get to you

I have a single goal before I enter my grave
I want to teach you all how to not be slaves

Don’t let fears and addictions control your life
That’s an endless road of sorrow and strife

Make your dream and grab your star
Let the world see who and what you are

Whatever you do, do it with a smile
Life is truly a gift enjoy it for awhile

It feels so strange to feel so good
We all have it in us to be Robin Hood

I dedicate this poem to all the youngsters
who come over to my house to study. You
know, I never would have dreamed that I
would be considered a good example. It's
truly amazing what the Lord can do in our
lives. The correlation I'm speaking of with
Robin Hood; is that we all have it in us to 
take from the bad and give to the good.

Copyright © Michael Jordan

Details | Narrative | |

My Conversation With God

I have been praying to God ever since I first understood the concept of a deity.  Although I have struggled through life with my acceptance of and belief in the religion I was force fed as a child, the praying has always stayed with me – on an almost every day basis.  In some way or some form or for some reason, it seems, I find myself praying to a God I am not sure I believe in.

Over the years, some of the things I have prayed for or prayed against have worked out in my favor.  Other things didn’t quite work out the way I had hoped.  So, I wondered, was this proof that my prayers are sometimes answered or simply the law of averages?  It really didn’t matter, I was programed to pray and so pray I do.

This has been going on pretty routinely for over 50 years; so, imagine my surprise when, for the first time last night, God talked back to me!

I may not get this exactly right, but, in essence, this is what He had to say:

(I am not sure what font to type God’s words in, so I will just keep on with the default.)

“Joe, Joe, Joe.  I have been listening to you for all your life.  And, whereas I do enjoy your thoughts; your words; and your sentiments; I find it is time for me to respond.

You really do pray a lot for lots of things.  Mostly good and humane things.  Mostly with a pure and caring heart.  But, son, you need to stop doing so much praying and start doing more stuff on your own.  I am not up here to make your life easier and to do things for you.

When you were young, instead of praying for that bicycle, you should have been doing chores to earn money towards buying it.  You could have cut more lawns, washed more cars, got a paper route, sold lemonade, or many other things other young boys were doing to earn money for the things that they wanted.

When you were in high school and prayed to me to help you do well in your wrestling matches, you should have, instead, been working harder at practice; spent more time on your conditioning; spent more time in the weight room; and studied harder on the art of wrestling.

In college, when you prayed for help on your mid-terms and finals, you should have, instead, spent more time studying and less time partying – I think that is something you already know.

Even when you pray on behalf of others – you should be doing more.

Instead of praying I would help old Mrs. Conner at the end of your street, you should have gotten up off your butt and walked down to the end of the street and looked in on her yourself.  You could have offered to go to the store for her, pick up her prescriptions or simply keep her company in her final years.

When you prayed for me to care for the starving children around the world, you should have been volunteering to help out yourself or donating more money towards this cause.  If you funneled all the money you spent on unnecessary junk food and extra meals you consumed throughout the years towards charities that help feed and clothe the poor, you could have saved many of the children you prayed that I would save.

Instead of praying that I cure your family, friends and acquaintances that you knew were ill or dying, you should have been visiting them in the hospital or writing them letters or providing assistance to their loved ones to help ease their pain.

Prayer is not the vehicle for you to be lazy and yet gain the rewards.  Prayer is not a means to have me do for others what you have the power and ability to do yourself.

I am glad that you talk to me, but you have been granted the ability and means to do so much more by yourself and yet you choose to take the easy way out and pray to me – the God that I know you are confused about.  Please, do me a favor, and before you pray, ask yourself, ‘Have I exhausted all avenues available to me to achieve the result I want God to perform?’ 

If, after you have done everything you can possibly do, then I may be more willing to consider what it is you ask for.

And now, my son, you can wake up.”

I sat up quickly in my bed, sweating and confused.  Was I just dreaming?  Was that really God talking to me?  Then, somewhere from deep inside, either from my conscious or a left-over message from the Almighty Himself, I thought (or heard): “What does it matter?  Whether it was God or not – the message is valid and something I probably already knew.”

“Well,” I said to myself, in prayer, “I will give it my best.  But, is it okay if we still talk?  It kind of helps to give me strength?”


I will take that as a, “Yes”.

Copyright © Joe Flach

Details | Free verse | |

My Seaons of Change

                                                  My Seasons of Change 

1. All the world’s a sky of faded virtue, 

2. Though major events have shaped my life,  

3. they are constantly replaced with new memories, most soon to be forgotten. 

4. One day’s triumph is another’s past glory. 

5. Like clouds, people have floated into my life and portrayed themselves in a way to form my character.  

6. Some have stayed and some have gone each leaving their distinctive steps in my path. 

7. The stars which illuminate the night are like the reflection of my past decisions. 

8. Like constellations show the history of people’s lives, mine is not yet run its course, but only begun.  

9. Just as God has blessed nature with its four seasons: summer, fall, winter and spring;  

10. He has also provided me with seasons that have developed my intricate character.  

11. The first is independence.  

12. Independence had arrived at the threshold of my future around the time of my late middle school years. 

13. Independence came from situations that pushed me to the edge of change. 

14. Change was not only a shift in my surroundings but a total alteration in my world view. 

15. The perplexing opportunities challenged me to make my own decisions. 

16. With my own decisions came discernment. 

17.  My whole eighth grade year I felt the daunting shadow of high school nudging at my side. 

18. After all, my success in high school could set the course for the rest of my life 

19.  and is it not my obligation to take the gifts God has given me and use them to change the world? 

20. That doesn’t happen overnight. 

21. The rough bark of an oak tree presented itself as a symbol for the following weeks of transition. 

22. High school brought discernment. 

23. I acquired the knowledge of why things are right or wrong. 

24. Responsibility was the next season in my life. 

25. Responsibility is not only gained through trust but opposition.  

26. Now that these three seasons have come to pass, they have matured my mind and soul. 

27. The last to follow is inevitably, struggle. 

28. Seamless struggle has lingered behind mankind since the begining of time. 

29. Struggle can be neither ignored nor avoided. 

30. As lighting strikes from the sky and thunder roars so is the ever presence of daily trials. 

31. Each season represents a pillar which will withstand not only the icy winds of fear, but 

32.  provide peace and security in my spirit that can never be driven out. 

Copyright © Gabriella Mucerino

Details | Narrative | |


The eraser belonged to me; it was saved by my mother and returned along with many other 
childhood items when I became middle aged. I was curious as to why she would save a 
stubby old eraser from the primary grades, so she reminded me of its’ one and only use. My 
faded memory of that time suddenly became crystal clear, as my mother recounted for me a 
watershed episode from my formative years. 

I had, as they say these days “acted out in school once again,” this time by writing 
unspeakable words in a textbook. Without any hesitation or forethought, I chose as my 
repository the teachers’ edition of our English composition book. Quite frankly, at the time, I 
thought they were literary gems worthy of publication. That’s why I knowingly inscribed them 
there for all to see. Upon further review by more knowledgeable minds, it was determined 
corrective guidance and a phone call home was in order.
I was to spend several hours after school that day sweating in contemplative silence as I 
erased the teachers’ edition and many other similarly defaced books. It was during this time 
of reflection that I ground that eraser down to the stub as it remains today. The last visible 
vestiges of my bad expositions disappeared forever that hot afternoon, along with more than 
half of the eraser.

Mother then reminded me of what she overheard the Superintendent tell me, as she sat 
mortally ashamed and waiting for hours in the hallway outside that sweltering classroom. I 
can still visualize her ample adult size, trying in vain to get comfortable, in a sticky one 
armed desk made for a 5th grader.

“ John, I want you to try and remember this:
WHAT YOU SAY to others might last with them until THEY DIE.
But regretful WORDS YOU WRITE, the residue of which, will last long after YOU DIE. 
So you keep what’s left of this eraser and I hope you never need to use it again.”

*For the "Rub it out" contest, i still have the eraser.

Copyright © John Trusty

Details | Couplet | |

Not Perfect but Acceptable!

My younger years - I don't know how
At six and seven folks had a cow!

The journey through the mind begins
Do not think the devil wins!

In middle school has a crash
Doing some things rather rash!

In high school had good grades
Then they dropped - almost like Hades!

Drove and walked many a mile
Just to see myself and smile!

God rescued me and set me free
From a thing called apathy!

Love God's plan - it makes me smile
To think of things that are worthwile!

I might have had to just stop college
But in experience have great knowledge!

Born to help others - don't you see?
I think it is reality!

Copyright © Joshua Lacey

Details | Imagism | |


SELF-IMAGE Oh Lord, why do I feel this way? My body is fatigued and just wants to lay On soft pillows under a ceiling fan Where peace is tranquil and divine. No pain or stressors are involved. Just me free of troubles and another’s problems. Where the world is outside and I am indoors, To achieve the level of contentment I search for, This is what I call pure existence. A bliss of equanimity that refines person. Is there such quintessence? Therefore, I must set the perfect example. ___________________________________________| Penned March 28, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Ode | |

An Ode To My Beloved

I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...

While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving

You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...

Goodbye My Love...

Copyright © Andrew Shannon

Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Free verse | |

Rewards of College Education

in grade school
he heard about it

in high school
he prepared for it

in his first year
he explored it

in his second year
he focused on it

in his third year
he felt part of it

in his fourth year
he graduated from it

Now, he has a job
because of it.

Copyright © Cathy Ncube

Details | Free verse | |

The Rush

She retraces the past to uncover the mystery of the many failed relationships.
The first date seems to generate some fireworks.
This entices her to tempt fate and go out again.
Sometimes there is more of a connection and other times she strikes out.
The third date things get more intimate as more secrets are uncovered.
The next thing she knows he is all over or he might wait one more date to get 
Yet in that moment the situation has become too intense for her to handle.
She slaps his arm and flees from the vicinity.
Yet she always wonders what could have been.
She thinks back to why she struggles with a guy wanting physical contact with 
She admits to herself she suffers from a low self worth.
In middle school she remembers being called ugly while the guys shoved her 
While she has untapped this clairvoyant moment, the rush of it all still 
traumatizes her.

Copyright © marcie wodlinger

Details | Rhyme | |

We Need God Back Into Our Schools

We Need God Back Into Our Schools!

There are some trying to remove God from this nation!
They do is under; “a church and state separation.”

For many years,  God was taught in our schools!
Until the Supreme Court took it away, with it’s rules!

As so many young people look to fill life’s “void.”
They try many things that they think they’ll enjoy!

Rather than having God’s word to obey and live by.
They choose the kind of life that they will die by!

Drugs, sex and violence of many perverted kinds.
Are what is now filling so many young people’s minds!

Read the headlines!  Many young people are stressed out!
Yet our government can’t seem to figure it out!

Another shooting…  Another act of violence appears!
While any kind of answer seems to have disappeared!

The answer is not more money to solve their problem!
No matter how much the government tries to solve them!

Let me give you answer.  It’s called “read the Bible 101!”
It’s time to repent to God the father, the spirit and the son!

Our young people need God brought back into their life!
And allow him to heal their brokenness and strife!

Jesus Christ is the solution for which many are asking!
Only he can give anyone a life that’s everlasting!

Please come Lord Jesus!  And heal the wounded hearts!
It’s everyone one of us, that it needs to start!

No court or school can separate God’s love for you and me!
Where will you spend your eternity?

By Jim Pemberton   10/24/13

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Rhyme | |


I am a psychology major in school, 
I think it is pretty cool. 
I can read people like words on a page.
When people smile at me, I can see their rage. 

Some say my talents are fake and absurd, 
I promise they are not, I can hear the unheard. 
I developed this skill as a boy, and it I could not avoid. 
In middle school I didn't play with a toy, instead, I read Freud. 

I see it as a cursed gift, 
I see a person and judge them swift. 
A nail biter has generalized anxiety, 
because we put too much pressure on them in society. 

I am not an optimist, 
nor am I a pessimist. 
I don't get this half  full or empty bit, 
I see a glass that has water in it. 

Every person's hand that I shake, 
I can tell if they are true or fake. 
A frat boy acts out in class and gets a suspension, 
When he was younger, his father paid him no attention. 

In a session, a person asks, “why do I do this?”
then they talk more, as I look into their dark abyss. 
Not everyone I talk to is clinically insane, 
Their mood is like the moon, it waxes and wanes.  

I see things you can't see in plain sight, 
the scary part is, I am almost always right. 
This is not something that can be learned, 
In my DNA at birth, it was burned. 

I can have a conversation with a complete stranger, 
I just look in their eyes and can tell if I'm in danger. 
A small, frail looking boy, I examined with a computer, 
I examined him, because he was a school shooter. 

I can talk to you and look in your eyes, 
then tell you that I saw your lies. 
If you don't believe me, lets place a wager, 
I promise you will lose to this psychology major.  

Copyright © Chris Matt

Details | Free verse | |


I wake on the sand
Right near the beach
You have yet to awake
Far out of reach
And Daybreak has arrived
A beauty unlike any other
Comparable only to us, girl
And how we love each other

So I gaze up alone
Marveling up at the sky
The warmth of the sun
Drying my eyes
I'm reflecting on us
Oh how each other we trust
I'm just so happy we're together
And I think to myself,
Just as this sun, we'll last forever

Then returning to be with you
I lay again now
Place my hand gently
On your warm tender shoulder
While I think of our lives today, love
And how they'll be when we're older...
I know there'd be no other way
So "I Love You" I make sure I say
To you, each and everyday

Copyright © Andrew Shannon

Details | Rhyme | |

Remember When

The fondest memory of a young boy’s drive,
   Are those things reminding us we are alive,
As when those physics of natural fortitude,
   Rise up to the occasion and start to protrude.

Seemingly the notion is quite  uncontrollable, 
  The mind that takes over is quite consolable,
`T was Love gave us the procreating  urge,
   Assumption is such, why should we not spurge?

As was this friend of mine who’s name was Berg, 
   With every young lady he saw, wanted to spurge,
He did saddled himself with three kids and a wife,
   Which is fine if mature ,but if not ruins one’s life.  

Another fond memory of a young boy alive,
   Is all those hot rod cars that he use to drive,
One of my dearest friends lost his life, where and when?
   High school graduation on Bayou creek bend.

A four in the floor and a fifth under the seat,
   Young boys feel like such a feat is quite neat,
Driving while drunk chancy rich price to pay,
   Same as being too young when one hit’s the hay!

This story has no glory,  though all parts are true,
   Parents seriously need to teach children good pursue,
Apple of God’s eye, tooth for tooth, an eye for an eye,
   We have not mercy,  when it is judgments we cry! 

For Contest: Fondest Memory
In Honor of: Frank Herrera

Copyright © john freeman

Details | Free verse | |

Last Bell.....

Man, I remember the thrumming of that last bell of the school year.....
Like a prisoner being furloughed into the warm sun, buzzing of grasshoppers.
Field stickers burrowing into your ankles, joyfully, while you take the wrong way/long way 
The sound of whispering gold as your armplane wings dislodge future assaulters of ankles.
I always liked sighs in the summer.....those sweet drones were the tones of freedom.
In the distance you hear Shirley scream as Brad tells EVERYBODY she likes Ralph...
You knew you should be gettin' home, but, confound it, this one brief moment was yours. 
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under 
To thwart it was to stop a tsunami with an umbrella.....ineffectual....unnoticed.
But, also vacant, was common sense; probably why I went Jake's way that day....
Oh, he was there, lurking...lying in wait for my almost clock-work arrival.
Many a day I had screamed a million insults at him as he chased me like Satan,
Hoping "today" wasn't the day he caught up with me.
His exhalations never sounded labored, as if he was letting me get ahead.....
But not today!!!!!.....I JUMP......He LUNGES......and his teeth gain purchase on my seat!!!!
However, I escape....My bottom, that much cooler than it was before and will probably be 
Home.......... you see mom in the kitchen, drinking sun tea and waiting for you to arrive....
"So, How was school?"..."Uh, fine, I guess."     "What did you learn today?"......."Uh, to never 
underestimate the value of Gym Class!!"......"Well," she says, "if you took home economics, 
you'd be able to fix up your pants before Dad gets home and sees your underwear!!"......

Parents NEVER respect an Adventurer's near-fatal exploits!!!

Copyright © Jim David

Details | Nonet | |

Why Did I Keep It A Secret?

When I was five, I should have told my 
mom that one of my friends called her 
ugly. Maybe I would have 
stopped being overly 
sensitive at school 
if guys didn't 
look at me 
or like 

I never realized how much her
words hurt me when she first said them.
Remembering how I used
to treat her when we played
at school and made sure
others knew why
truly makes
it quite 

As we got older, I don't think she
even remembered saying it.
I included my closest
friends in a fight she was
oblivious of.
Telling her it 
hurt would have 
been the

Copyright © Brandee Augustus

Details | Free verse | |

'Where it all begun'

We reminisced about years long gone tonight and one thing became crystal clear, that even with the hardships and all the madness we became adults that can keep our heads high - We didn't have the best of everything tough times and mistakes made didn't keep us down it never determined who we'd be All the high school drama of stay a ways and walk outs could have made us falter the guys and their strawberry house the girls and their adult movies We can laugh about the madness now they are all fond memories all part of what makes us the adults we are today I salute you guys for never giving up for being the best you can be because you came from humbled beginnings and you never forgot where everything started... Hence your appreciation for the blessings today! *Inspired by a get together with some of my high school friends*

Copyright © Wilma Neels

Details | Rhyme | |

No Return

Listen to the school bell
Distant plaintive 

Beyond anything the mind can 

And return to a deserted field 
Where spirited girls and boys
Once played

Becoming mature
Women and men

When I hear the laughter
Childish screams
And ghostly

I can feel a world at 
Overcoming my 

Of a future without 
And the solitude I 

Of a future without
And the terminus

Didn’t I hear a sprightly piano
Plinking through a 
Near that faded
School yard?

Reminds me of you
Bright girly radiance
Dressed in 

Dancing all the time 

We were carefree
Back then
Before the days of 

Can I return to that time
With my old soccer ball?

Play with young spirits
Long passed away

Can I redo the errors 
Stamped upon my life?

Lost hopes 

That’s a sharp
School bell

Distant plaintive wail

Beyond anything  the mind can 

But there’s no return 
To a deserted field 
Where spirited girls and boys
Once played

Becoming mature
Women and men

There’s no return to 
The beginning 

No return

When you’ve

Copyright © Catman Cohen

Details | Light Poetry | |

A night to forget

She thought that he’s charming
Her friends says he is so cute
But little did they know
It’s the furthest from the truth

Her mom buys her a new dress
Because he ask her to the prom
But during the fun and laughter
He spikes her punch with rum

She wakes up in his BMW
He,s smiling with a cigarette
A morning she will remember
A night to forget

She can’t stop crying
She lies on her bed
Feeling hurt and disgusted
Suicide thoughts comes to her head

Her mom notice the changes
But she don’t know what is wrong
She use to sing in the church choir
The preacher says she stops coming around

She hugs her mother last night
Then walks out the door alone
And its now early morning
She didn’t come back home

She jumps over the bridge
They pull her body soaking wet
She couldn’t live with the memory
Of the night she can’t forget

It’s sad that her young life was ruin
By the evil that lays hidden behind a smile
Her mother life is shattered
Never knowing what happen to her child

This is happening to innocent girls
All over the world
Taking away their dignity and pride
Sucking the life out of their very soul

Another girl sits under a tree
Reading a book of poem by kaz ishmael
He said “excuse me just got to say
That you have a beautiful smile

She brushes her long hair
Think her jeans didn’t fit to right
His BMW is waiting out side
They are going to movies tonight

Copyright © kasim ishmael

Details | Free verse | |

Wild, Wild West

Magazine ads and newspaper obituaries
skitter across the streets
like tumbleweed in the desert.
Rims the size of carriage wheels roll by.
Everyone's holsters are filled,
even the children carry pistols.
The schools are ghost towns
but the saloons stay occupied.
This is the Wild, Wild West.

Copyright © Dylan Catalano