Why does a child have to go to school?
Why do we have to spend so much time working?
This seems simply cruel.
Isn't it just irking?
Some people say school is important for learning
Couldn't a child learn on their own?
It would cause much less yearning,
After all, we can learn from our phones.
I can somewhat see a parents point in sending their child to school.
But why would you choose what we wear?
It just allows us to look like fools,
We may as well come to school bear.
As you can see school is not fair,
So please don’t force us to go if you care.
Teacher, shall I write a sonnet? Must I?
When I’m not so sure of my poetry…
Shall I write a poem of fourteen lines?
In iambic pentameter –by me?
What shall I write about? What can I say?
In this sonnet which I must jot down now?
My sonnet should be about what today?
To write a great sonnet I’m not sure how…
Teacher, can I write this sonnet later
For I’m not sure of what to write about?
The teacher then takes my simple paper
And “you already did.” my teacher shouts.
‘Detention’ my teacher says, ‘for lying,’
‘But thank you,’ she adds, ‘for at least trying.’
© Mariam Mababaya.
The Sacrament of Confirmation
Confirmation perfects baptismal grace
The Sacrament gives the Holy Spirit to root us more deeply in divine filiation
Incorporate us more firmly to Fr. Christ
Strengthen our bond with the Church
Associate us more closely with her mission
Help us bear witness to Christian faith in words accompanied by deeds
Like Baptism imprints a spiritual mark or indeliable character of the Christian soul
For this reason one can receive this sacrament only once in one’s life
A candidate for Confirmation has attained the age of reason must profess faith
Be in the state of grace
Have the intention of receiving the Sacrament
Be prepared to assume the role of disciple
Witness to Fr. Christ, both within the Ecclesial bond
Annointing of the forehead of the baptized with sacred chrism
I never will forget in junior high
this girl who was a two-faced friend of mine.
I can’t remember now the reason why,
but she got mad for something asinine.
She said, “I’m gonna beat you up! Be at
the park, beside the water tower.” She
then told me, “Bet you won’t show up.” That brat
was MEAN! All day I fretted needlessly
of what could be a real bad episode!
So after school with my best friend, I went
And waited for that witch; she never showed!
With great relief, I then began to vent
to my best friend of things that we could do
to that “tough girl” - a chicken through and through!
*True story & dedicated to my junior high school foe, who later
went on to marry (and then divorce) the brother of my BEST friend!
To read more about what happened later on with me and her, please
view "ABOUT THIS POEM" which can be seen by clicking in the left hand
corner above the title of a poem.
For Carol Brown's Poetry Contest: ORNERY BEST FRIENDS
growing up in a female family
and having a severe stutter was tough
but those stories came to me easily
back in high school I never wrote enough
as a veteran I’m writing again
and I’m learning so much more being here
I’m a poet after an injured brain
so many years ago nothing to fear
I even enjoy reading poetry
and Poetry Soup has helped me with that
and I often write a contest entry
I know my poems are never somewhat
what motivates me answer is life does
and poetry does keep me on my toes
The result of my last year high school was out
And was sad, dejected as I got the second top
Losing the scholarship for further study scope
As my dad had no means for college no doubt.
As entered my house, saw my teacher with dad
Both of them chatting laughing in a happy mood
The teacher said, “Get prepared for college soon”
You got the scholarship though you second stand.
After my door opener left, dad told me the story
The teacher knew about the top ranker’s wish
For not going further for the college education.
As a result, the teacher approached the committee.
Proving the teacher is more important than teach
An enemy of simplism but master of simplification.
* The Italian sonnet with abba, abba, cdecde rhymescheme
Full based on a true event of 1954:
A tribute to my late teacher Shri Damodar Dave of N.D.H.High School, Dwarka,
Reposted on 912-13
First place win
Contest: Your old favourite poem by Judy Connos
Dr. Ram Mehta,
July 13, 2011
First Place win in:
Contest: "The Right Time" sponsored by Michael J. Falotico
Luzerne County Community College
I further my education right there
Being there really increased my knowledge
W-S-F-X was on the air
I was the promotion director there
and I hosted Campus Talk a few times
Associate’s Decree without despair
and having a family more than dimes
back in High School college wasn’t in mind
Working out at sea college wasn’t bad
college did get me ready for the grind
and for a moment my mother was glad
but most of all I learn more poetry
and my writing makes me feel truly free
Being Prepared for Judgment
"Gird your loins and light your lamps, be like servants who await their master's return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks.
Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival.
Amen, I say to you, he will gird himself, have them recline at table, and proceed to wait on them.
Should he come in the second or third watch and find them prepared in this way, blessed are those servants.
Be sure of this:
If the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into.
You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect.
The Son of Man will come."
But if that servant says to himself, 'My master is delayed in coming,'
Begins to beat the menservants and the maidservants, to eat and drink and get drunk,
Then that servant's master will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour and will punish him severely and assign him a place with the unfaithful.
That servant who knew his master's will but did not make preparations nor act in accord with his will shall be beaten severely
The servant who was ignorant of his master's will but acted in a way deserving of a severe beating shall be beaten only lightly.
Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more." (Taken from LK 12:35-40, 45-48)
Some Advice in This Sonnet
A few words of advice in this sonnet:
Don’t hurt, if you too don’t like to be hurt.
When bad deeds return, you might regret it.
So watch your deeds, and take care of your words.
Always know that from above you’re being watched.
On your right and left are angels writing –
Collect whatever good deeds you may lack,
To please God and meet Him while He’s smiling.
Avoid supplications prayed against you,
Especially those of righteous Muslims.
Beware of everything you see and do –
Know that on Judgment Day, you’ll be questioned.
Obey Allah’s Rules, and good you shall get.
If you displease Allah, yours is regret.
Miriam / Mariam Mababaya
Why do we delve in school all day and night?
Sunrise and set, both see egos engrossed
In education used by us to boast
And overtake, regardless of how slight.
Our Grade Point Average must define our worth!
Exams, essays, homework; praise them wholly!
Our university’s prestige decrees
Whether or not we each deserve our birth.
A battle fought with cap guns, noisy toys;
The animals, stuffed full with bulging fluff
Dress up, our feet are touched by dad’s shirt cuffs;
These games are played by infant girls and boys.
How easily high intellect astounds
The geniuses with brains of Play Dough mounds!
Forgiveness of Sins / God's Love & Mercy
Then he said, "A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.'
So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation.
When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need.
Coming to his senses he thought, 'How many of my father's hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger.
I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.
I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers."'
So he got up and went back to his father.
While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion.
He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him; His son said to him,
'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.
But his father ordered his servants, 'Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet...
Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.' Then the celebration began.
Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him.
He said to him, 'My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours; but now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.'" (Taken from LK 15:11-14, 17-25, 28, 31-32)
In the daze of school - of King Lear and Pi -
The hype I would pass, the test I would fail!
Not algebra, not prose did edify
Till a stranger of herself did avail.
Agent provocateurs at desks and chairs
Shut open doors and tossed closed books aside:
'Twas a conspiracy one alone bears
Yet co-conspirators had much to hide!
For each lame alibi concealed misdeed,
Each insurrection blotted my ledger:
But we all did a quick life lesson heed -
One of Self and Fate in equal measure.
That an angel sat upon my shoulder
Is wiser in me now that I'm older.
Dedicated to a teacher of mine at High School:
Wyn Johnson, without whom my school days
Would have been an even bigger disaster!
I never saw myself as an old man
Never thought two-thousand would come either
I lived my life not on any one plan
Sweated through high school without a breather
I haven’t the mobility to run
though at times I can walk pretty darn fast
and I am always out getting some sun
I’m glad those days not walking didn’t last
Love I have had a few when does it end
The realities are never the same
So I am marrying my one best friend
I promise you for me this no game
One thing for sure this one is truly real
Her meals more tasty than a Happy Meal
I despise sonnets, and they despise me.
So obnoxious with their fourteen line rhymes.
I’d rather be attacked by a banshee
Than be subjected to my mind’s rhyme-crimes.
Fingers tapping to the ten syllables.
Dead to the iambic pentameter.
Now I’m praying for the running of bulls.
A better poet would make my freezer.
o, I know Shakespeare would be so ashamed
To read the words that lay upon this page.
They do not stand to the man they are named.
A Shakespearean sonnet on rampage.
I know the man himself would not agree,
But thank God for rhyming dictionary.
The lips that kissed these tiled floors
now split to cough out damp clay dust.
Gathered in excited lungs, to build and mold forever more
under thatched roof of ripped canvas. Must
the strings that hold your heart in tune
be plucked free to dance upon the unknown noise.
That rings from peach sky mornings to hushed afternoon
in the sparrows song. Like the toys
that teach creation, Paintbrush’s whispering tongue
kisses white with every stroke. Scream
forth in colorful kindling that rung
your secrets in the wind, leaving dry lungs to dream
for knowledge as it seeps from tree rings,
the life sap frozen in amber wings.
Amidst the heavy rains,standing here I'm,
Holding my hands together ,hoping to be fine.
Walking through the streets ,repenting upon the past,
thinking what to do next,and when did I smile last.
Nothing seems to strike,nothing going my way,
however hard i try,no use of what I say.
To whom shall I show, the scars of my life,
the pain of which ,increases my strife.
I have reached a stage ,at which I can't turn back,
to fulfill my wishes which my life lack.
Now I wish sometimes,I still had been a boy,
to be loved by everyone,filled every moment with joy.
But time and again,reality comes back to me,
and amidst heavy rains I'm again on a crying spree.
To find a maximum that’s relative
You have to walk these steps defined in full.
Remember, relative extrema live
(Or are) there at numbers critical,
And they should be continuous at “c”.
Monotonicity, after the lull,
(In here there is no measure of degree)
Just find the plus or minus interval
By choosing terms inside each chosen span.
From here you solve the “f’(x)” by use
Of chosen terms. A part whose graphed slope ran
Upwards-down is maximum, perhaps obtuse.
These things are all you have to keep in mind
When finding functions, some numbered or lined.
So what would you do
if you woke up one morning to
a sign on your dorm room door
saying in no uncertain terms this is for
warning you that the reek in the halls
has exceeded the tolerance levels
our policy calls for? C'mon y'all!
We know we accept brilliant devils
but we expect you to at least
bat your eyelashes to the fact
that there's a pretty dang dangerous beast
out there. We hope you can call on your tact
and moderate your in-your-faceness
enough to where it deserves its effectiveness.
actually, this is sorta a semi-sonnet, but i went with the closest could think of
EXTRA EXTRA, Read all about it
The end is near, the end is near
2k12 is finally here
We've come so far to go even further
Its now our time, no longer are we observers
We slowly, one by one, step out of our oysters
To walk our path through a life of employers
We loved our mistakes and every time we've fallen
From ever victory from ever problem
We've put in the time
And now live to tell
We've turned our lives
And turned them well
So remember the class of 2012
The sun lit the sky and I lit a joint,
The mood was gay and so was Dorian Gray!
Then onward to the coast - Te Arai Point -
On that dusty trail down Forestry way.
Halcyon age of substance over style:
A tall "scab" or ten in the tussock grass,
But the gulf wind off Great Barrier Isle
Blew waves to the shore and sand up my arse!
A campfire did blaze the windward chill,
There were tales and ales and excess pleasures
Long into the night till we had our fill -
Rip, shit and bust...and no countermeasures.
Packed up our tents all - hungover and worn,
And hit the Hot Pools the next ragged morn.
Te Arai Point is a beach on the north-east
Coast of New Zealand where some school
Friends and I used to visit. A weekend road
Trip to an oasis of sand, surf, and stars!
A "scab" was a beer.
Dedicated to Brett, Bev, Gray, Ron, Robbie,
And Marie, and any others whose names I
A person’s life is all about choices.
Some are regrettable, others just fine.
Yet the one’s we choose rarely suffices
Our needs and refashioned minds.
Take a man with a chance for promotion
He’ll embrace it without further ado
Deciding on a capricious notion
Winds up regretting on Monday’s debut.
The same can be said of a high school belle
Forgoing the occasion for college.
Marries instead she's unhappy as hell
Missing out on a world of vast knowledge.
When faced with a choice choose not just any
Right choices are few, the wrong ones many.
HInoi Team dances, lovely on the stage
Spreading the moves, so famous they have made
Para Para takes its place in this age
Among the great fav’rites, never to fade.
Like a bright, rushing stream, the movements go
And round the curves of music they bend.
As one with the beat, the time seems to slow
The song seems forever, sans start or end.
While the wind teases the leaves of a tree
The lovely blossoms it causes to fall.
With effortless rhythm it calls to me,
The melody captures us, one and all.
Though simple as a child’s favorite game,
This dance has taken root, and risen to fame.