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Best Student Poems

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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Student Poem | |

The Absentee Student Takes His Test

He’s never heard one lesson of this class,
but has to get a grade in history.
So he’s shown up at last, sure he will pass
the test that prior students say is easy!

He feels no need to read the test’s directions.
It uses letter symbols; he can tell
he only needs to trust his recollections
about the fifty states. He should do well!

He feels assured that Md has to be 
for Maryland, and Missouri is Mo.
It’s very clear Nebraska is Ne.
But why No? Everyone should know that NO means NO!

Ca, Pa, In; a piece of cake!
Then he sees a few that are an utter
puzzlement or just a huge mistake!
Pb, he’s sure, is only peanut butter!

Sg might be Singapore, or else Saigon.
But how are those in U.S. History?
Fr for France? Just what is going on?
The cocky guy is feeling kind of queasy.

At last he thinks to go back to the start
and read the test’s instructions. . . O M G!
The test was on the periodic chart
of elements! Wrong class. It’s Chemistry!!!


*The correct answers of the test were really
Md for Mendelevium, Mo for Molybdenum,
Ne for Neon,  No for Nobelium, Ca for Calcium,
Pa for Protactinium, In for Indium, pb for Lead,
Sg for Seaborgium and Fr for Francium (he was close on that one!)

As for me, I would stay in the history class!!!

Details | Student Poem | |

future

Walking forward but still in the same place.

Moving quickly but still stuck in a small space.


Success seems so close but something I never taste.

Time continues but all efforts go to waste.


Reaching for goals in this strenuous race.

Going on hopelessly in this never ending chase.


Moving faster trying desperately to pick up the pace.

The monotony of struggle slapping me in the face.


Thinking of my future but all I see is a lost case.









































Details | Student Poem | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Student Poem | |

IQ Test

I could care less about the four 
corners of insults, 
That intelligence invites; 
It is always the first straw of 
grass that’s grows, 
which reveals the popular outcast; 
As a youth, I found my image cut down 
into this manufactured silhouette.

Drenched in social rain, my peers 
had never found me more alienated, 
Then when I spoke fluently of diverse 
topics; 
They did everything in their power to provide 
a verbal umbrella, 
However, the texture remains weak and 
defeated.

This stormy parade that remains’ dripping is
indeed an afterthought, 
For within this cranial mansion resides 
additional rooms, 
For the more abstract and surreal 
elements of life; 
It is that secluded gland which reveals 
the renaissance of men, who wear 
infinite Fedoras.

Now wearing the shoes of a young 
man, 
A taste of charisma resides in my 
veins; 
However this slight addiction to external 
haze, 
Comes in second to my first drug of 
choice: Wisdom. 

Membership into this fraternity may take a lifetime; 
So don’t be surprised when resistance 
knocks at your door, 
Intimidated by the lion that dwells within 
your temple; 
Indeed intellect is the misunderstood 
fruit, 
That blossoms sweeter when accepted.

Details | Student Poem | |

Polly

A nobody 
Scared by the sound of his own voice
Following the girl home from school
In his mind this is normal
Stalking girls
He grabs her jacket
Pulling her backwards unto the ground
Placing a cloth around her nose and mouth
Gagging her until she sleeps for a while
He drags her through the woods
Branches hitting her every which way he turns
Dragging her along until he reaches the cabin
Picking her up over his shoulders opening the door to the cellar
Locking the door behind him he walks down the stairs slowly
He places her on a chair and ties her wrist to the handles
Tying her feet to the legs of the chair
Tightening the rope around her neck to the back of the chair
He undresses her waiting for her to wake up
Several hours pass 
She wakes up
Sweating and screaming
Crying and yelling at him
He places duct tape around her mouth
Placing a knife against her stomach
She groans and yelps
He takes the knife away and looks at her
Grabbing her face and telling her shes beautiful
He turns around and stands with his back towards her
As he starts to say
But its the beautiful people that need fixing
He takes the tape off her face and holds her chin tightly
He carves a smile on her face
Cutting her mouth from ear to ear
Telling her
Smile dear it makes you adorable
He grins and sits the knife down
Laughing as she bleeds
She tries to move her mouth
It just drops open
He looks at her smiling
Now that makes you truly beautiful
He leaves her there for a while
Later returning
Placing a needle with a string attached to it
Sticking it into the skin around her mouth that is hanging open
He stitches her back together
Cant make up his mind
He slaps her and leaves her there for another few days
She sits with her eyes peeled wide open
A tear falling as she tries wiggling her hand free from the rope
As she frees her hand she runs her fingers over her stitches
Only to find out her whole mouth has been stitched together
She cant speak
She can only mumble
She frees the rest of  her limbs
Trying to stand up and walk but she's to weak and falls
He runs down the stairs
Yelling at her to get up
She doesn't move
He kicks her in the stomach
She doesn't budge
He picks her up and uses her as a puppet 
For his own needs
He then buries her beside his other victims
Only to find out shes still alive
Her hand slips through the dirty old mud

5-28-2013

Details | Student Poem | |

Madison

She's broken.
She just wanted her thoughts to be spoken.
For her words to mean something,
For her words to be affecting.

But she feels worthless.
Her dream was to become an actress,
to inspire others ti achieve their dreams,
but she had fallen in the streams.

She lost all of her hope,
having no way to cope. 
She wakes up every morning,
ready to start acting. 

She puts on her mask,
hoping for someone to ask,
hoping for someone to realize
how long this has been going on, and apologize.

Yet no one seems to care,
she feels like she shouldn't be there.
Since no one seems to notice her,
that is what she has inferred.

But then someone spoke up,
noticed how she was lost like a pup.
So they decided to help,
she first yelped.

For she never knew how to accept,
she only knew she wept.
Later, she saw light,
and shone bright.

She finally saw that she was someone,
not a no one,
but she meant something.
She was finally acknowledging

Her true beauty,
she found her true duty,
to help others,
and make things better.

Details | Student Poem | |

The Picture Converter

The Picture Converter
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the ED NOTE it was the symbols 

 The Picture Converter 
http://storypen.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?
poemnumber=381095&sitename=charlax&password=&poemoffset=0&displayp
oem=t&item=story 
The Picture Converter 
 
The Picture Converter 
 
  
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the 
OH wow this would not work until eye deleted the symbols in the word document 
The Picture Converter 
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the hay ref and the IMG thing that works so well in all my forums and lay it on the 
right page margin next to all the poem words that eye must save and then when 
eye copy and past this thing again let it emerge as pictures once again to rule the 
poetry page to come back to image land to actually be a picture once again to 
make the poem bleed the picture converter will have an icon of its own please 
feel free to use the charlax one my image is still free eye love the poetry and the 
pictures and the banners just add so much to all the words a little story place a 
little story made a little story gold when poems rule the world only poets will be 
old. 




Details | Student Poem | |

Teacher, shall I write a sonnet

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.

Details | Student Poem | |

My Father's Footsteps

I can see you up ahead of me
I am following 
in your footsteps

no matter how fast I walk
I cannot catch up 

your footsteps are bigger than mine
but they were warm 
and safe to step in

you turn around
and smile encouragingly
then return to your journey

thank you for your footsteps
when I can no longer see you 
they will always be here
pointing me in the right direction

Dora Roimata Langsbury
27 June 2009

Written for my father, Kuao Langsbury, for his 75th birthday gift.

Details | Student Poem | |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.

Details | Student Poem | |

Fake Words

Fake Words – Zamreen Zarook

God have given us mouth,
Not to speak to north and south,
Tongue is given under an oath,
So it’s our duty to protect them both.

Girls chat fake with boys,
Having a notion that the boys are toys,
They often make varied noise,
Thinking to keep a trap on handsome guys.

Boys are also human being,
So it’s not possible being clean,
Things varies in the way they are seen,
So positive thinking will make you keen.

Boys’ minds are pure,
As it is pure bio,
So don’t try to pour vino,
Which will take decades to get cure.

Details | Student Poem | |

The Discipline of a Student

Oh Lord, I know you know I have been thanking you a lot lately
But today I want to pray
~~~	~~~	~~~
Almighty Lord
You know me and you know how in life I pine to succeed
I know all that I want
And I know what to do in order to get it all
The will power, emotional power, confidence... certainty
...and all that entails the achievement of a dream
But there is one thing I specifically need
For with it my success is guaranteed

Almighty Lord
Please give me the discipline of a student
Please make me endear my keenest efforts on my chief pursuits
Just as though I’m about to sit for an exam... for I know in a way I am

Please give me the sense to properly manage my time
And take from my heart the desire to waste time 
...and the vice of procrastination
In its place fill me with the fear of punishment and failure
...if I go about work like a truant does
...spending too much money here... and too much time there

Please sharpen my focus like that of a student aiming for that higher diploma...
...knowing the realisation of it will chance him a higher degree
Help me aptly execute the duties entrusted unto me
For its exceptionality will lift me to the reach of even higher doors

Almighty, please fill me with the discipline of a student
To sacrifice my little peer pleasures now... and invest all my heart into my pursuits
Knowing all too well that as that an empowering reality awaits me 
...at the end of my truest efforts

Help me to be honest with myself
...knowing that all I do now
...is first of all for my own benefit
And that if I do it so well
It will benefit and inspire even many more to garner more of their potentials

Now my Almighty Lord,
Think of this as a business proposal
I have the dream and capability
You have the power over reality
If you take my dream and capability seriously 
...and assist me with your power over reality
Very soon I will succeed, and there will be many wanting to be like me
All these shall be to your gain too for I shall direct them your way as proof
So you see Lord, your help and my efforts will tomorrow make us both a happier lot 
Think about it
~~~	~~~	~~~
Mhmm...  Who am I kidding, I know you did think about it and that’s why you 
decided to make me live
Thanks Lord

Details | Student Poem | |

Went Fishin'


Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
------------------------------------------------

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”

Details | Student Poem | |

The Student

Buzz, Buzz,
still tiered eyes open,
She walks down stairs, packs up, and gets on the bus,
She stares out the window wishing to spend the day there and not at a desk.
7 FULL HOURS of of unempathetic teachers,
they give her 6 more hours of school work to do at home.
No one cares!

The homework starts on the bus and she's lucky to have it done by 10PM. 
Finely, she gets to go to bed,
But all she does is stare at the sealing with the overhanging stress of the work she didn't finish combined with the work her unrelenting teachers will give her tomorrow.

It happens each day,  
It's beyond her control,
she tells teachers and friends but they spit in her face telling her they don't care.
It won't change.

Luckily, she has her head on strait,
and while she trudges through the mud she stays strong,
knowing that everything is going to work out.
So she tells herself just wait.

Details | Student Poem | |

Bladder Problems in Class

Numbers on 
White board…names written hori-
zontally

Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts – 
THAT’S just wrong…

Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!

People are
Not using lunchtime to do 
Their business 

No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?

Details | Student Poem | |

Listen to Me

You never listen
Yes I know it's true
I see you try and deny it
How's that working for you?

I will say one thing
You will hear another
I will try to fix it
The misunderstanding you see

I just got in trouble
(Sigh) I told you so
They never listen to me

They say they do 
And I know they try
But all I want to do is scream
"JUST LISTEN TO ME SOMEONE PLEASE"

All I asked is that you think
What is real?
Do I ever ask this?
Will I ever again?

All I really did
Was ask
For friend

All I want
Is to be free
Free to listen
And free to be me

Sadly though
You'll never see
Just how much your 
Not listening has killed me

I have tried
Really I did
I know that I'm not eighty
I know that I'm not nice
But the only thing I asked 
For was five minutes (at the most) of your life.

I'm sorry that you failed
I'm sorry that I tried but
Mostly I'm just sorry that
I'm not sorry,
Not anymore.

Details | Student Poem | |

A Golf lesson

Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”

He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.

Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.

These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”

“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”

His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and played the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.





 









Details | Student Poem | |

Growing up

A kid goes from
lower kindergarten to
upper kindergarten...
but he's still a cute li'l
kid...

a student finishes
first year of high school
and moves on to the next
but he's still a student
with academic pressures only

again, in college
there isn't much difference between
sophomores and seniors

why is it that once you
finish college
and move on to further
qualify yourself academically
the world suddenly looks at you
as a 'grown-up' individual...

and expects you to be a
block of stone
of infinite stability
and responsibility levels ?

why are we 'old' ?
does it seem stupid
if I now want to stop to
stare at lovely looking
flowers or colourful
candies in a supermarket ?

why does it seem intolerable
if I throw tantrums for
eating and sleeping ?
why should i do
only the right thing ?

has life decided to give me
no more chances ?
no more wrong steps now ?

why is the word 'decisive'
killing me ?

i want to walk the path of life
as it comes
why is there this thought
"its time now..to decide
where you want to go...
what you want to do...
who you want to
be with..."

why should i
not behave like a
new student to
a foreign school
who's unable to
forget her old friends
and doesn't want to make
new friends ?

what is so 'sinful' about this ?

why can't i NOT 'not listen to'
"everyone manages fine...
your seniors did
your peers are
and most of your juniors will..."

there are times when i myself
wonder
why i can't seem to move on
there are other times when i
do make conscious efforts to move on
succeed, externally

but the heart can't be deluded...
can it ?
mine can't be..its too smart...
to make up for that soft head...!

Details | Student Poem | |

Because I'm ready to grow up

Because I'm Ready To Grow Up

I have had enough 
Enough with the happy times

I'm ready to take on the stress
No more playground or bubbles baths please
Enough with the piles and piles of mess
I'm grown up now ready for change

I had it with being a baby bird
I don't want to be fed I don't want to cry
I want to get out of the nest, spread my wings 
I want to take flight in the sky so high

I had enough of the princess dresses 
Get rid of those Barbie dolls
Throw away all those plastic high heels
And bring on the teenage texting of Lols

Don't u get it I've had enough
I'm ready to grow up to break out of the shell
I'm prepared to take on life's earthquakes 
Waiting for the day when I'll have stories to tell

Princesses and fairies will never be real
There is nothing in the world that's free
You don't magically have a happy ending
All i can be in life is me

So I'm ready to grow up
To escape the magical world
For you have to earn whatever you want
Nothing comes in a pink sparkly twirl


So I've had enough
Rip my childhood apart
I'm happy to face the impending future
drown the happy memories in my heart

Details | Student Poem | |

Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself


Details | Student Poem | |

The Sooner Recruit

Fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan;
And watched thousands of recruits try to make my Sooners Team.
Often, I’ve enviously wondered what it must be like
To be a touted Sooners recruit, living out his dream.

He’d had a great career through high school;
Made good grades, was a football star, played baseball too.
Coach said college recruiters were watching closely;
So, he tried his very best to make his dream come true.

You see, he’d played on the L’il Sooners as a kid;
Started getting serious about the game when he was only eight
Played with older, bigger boys and practiced hard;
Always told his friends, “To be a Sooner, ya gotta play great”.

Oh yes, his parents raised a football player;
And, even more important, a Sooners fan;
But he wanted more, to be a Sooner,
To feel the glory raining down from the stands. 

Now, the Sooners’ Head Coach is in his living room.
“Son, you’ve got talent.  We think you fit our scheme.
We’re offering you a scholarship, an opportunity
To be an important member of our great Sooners Team”.

His mother smiles her biggest smile.
His father nods proudly and pats him on the knee.
“Lord knows, son, it’s a dream come true.
Go be the very best Sooner you can be”.

He walks into the locker room,
Not quite sure what to expect;
But sure that to play for the Sooners
He will first have to earn respect.

He looks each man straight in the eye - 
Other recruits, trainers, assistants, and every coach.
“Be proud, but respectful”, his mother had said;
Your character, more than your performance, must be above reproach”.

His handshake is firm and he smiles.
“Only one chance for a first impression”, his father had said;
"Always put yourself in positive light, on and off the field.
That’s what it will take to play for the mighty Big Red”.

He meets so many other recruits, each one a high school star.
He’s played against a few and knows they share his dream.
And, to a man, each knows before any chance for Glory,
He first must prove worthy to play for this Sooners Team.

He knows a few will fail to meet the coaches’ expectations.
For some, the scout team will be their fate.
Many will suit up, but rarely play.
Only the very best will ever dare to be great.

Coach says, “If every man learns and executes when called on,
Then this team, we Sooners, will win a lot of games;
But, win or lose, if you play hard and give your very best,
You’ll never have to hang your heads in shame”.

“But gentlemen, with or without you, this team will win.
Every season, the Sooners strive to win it All.
So, listen, work hard, and prepare yourselves.  Each game is war...
And you must be ready when Victory calls”.

Through grueling practices, he finds himself.
As he walks to class, his closest friends are aches and pains;
But, just the other day, Coach helped him up, smiled, and patted his helmet.
“You’re doin’ fine, son.  Keep pushin’.  Remember, no pain, no gain”.

He sees his name on the "open scrimmage" roster for the very first time.
It’s a moment he’ll never forget, another milestone in his dream.
He calls his Mom and Dad, knowing they’ll tell his family and his friends.
He hopes they’ll actually see him play, proof he’s made the Team.

As he suits up for the last pre-season open scrimmage,
He wonders if the coaches would really let a freshman play at all;
But Coach puts him in for eight plays against the first team;
He makes two great open-field tackles and intercepts the ball.

He barely hears the roar of the crowd, as the whole defense “gives him five”.
He’s so excited, he forgets to ask if he can keep that ball.
Fans are buzzing, “Did you see that hit”!?  “Who is that kid”!?
“Will he red shirt or will Coach let him play this fall”? 

He sees his name in the Sunday paper, hears it on local sports.
He’s happy, but he doesn’t let it go to his head.
He keeps his focus and uses it as motivation.
After all, he wants to start one day for the mighty Big Red.

Yes, we’ll hear more of this young recruit.
Perhaps, one day he’ll be the hero of the game.
A seasoned veteran, maybe All Conference or even All American,
Who’s tasted Victory many times and helped glorify the Sooners’ name.

Oh yes, there have been so many who’ve aspired;
But many fewer who’ve actually made our Sooners Team.
They are our heroes, each and every one;
For it’s through their accomplishments, we fans can live the dream.

Billy Vessels, Steve Owens, Billy Sims, and Jason White,
The Selmons, Little Joe, the Boz, Josh Heupel, and “Q”
They, and so many others, were once touted Sooners recruits;
Who set a higher mark and built the Tradition that is OU.

So, c’mon! c’mon! all you great young football players!
Dedicate your talents to OU’s Team and OU’s Fans.
Make Oklahoma’s Owen Field your Field of Dreams,
And feel the Glory raining down from the stands. 

Details | Student Poem | |

'Poet's Delight'

Math, physics, English, and so on--
     alas, are tiresome!
All the professors here go on 
     with a prime axiom. 

A stuffy, college campus where 
     knowledge and books abound,
freshmen and co-eds are clueless
     and confused all around.

Mid-terms and finals I do dread
     as each semester ends;
the pressure's on me to study
     as the semester wends.

School's oppressive this semester,
     I'll see my old provost
and leave 'ere I rot and fester
     and take up a new post.

William & Mary's stale B.A.'s
     are just worthless BS;
degrees from the home of “The Tribe”
     are crap that obsolesce.

I'll do rimes as “Poet's Delight”
     as poems are my forté,--
not tomes or stuffy scholastics!
     Ballads are my métier.


1.) poembender; 2.) Philosophical motif; 3.) for "Impress me III ! (Old / New)" Contest



















Details | Student Poem | |

Class or Claaassee

Class or Claaassee !

Night  owl with an open circumstance fears
from blue neglect with the rages of unfortunate
idealisms---“why don’t you”---a nag  nag  nag
sequence,  fosters an arm’s length gaze glance
I peer through picket fence fingers, while tongue
depressing hop  to  it  euphemisms to gag
your elementary gesture fantasies with lurking
adult  gonatitudes, (envy) in full glee—“I don’t
care---but then what if”---and
would even believe me if I tried to tell
you the truth, you don’t want to touch in mind.
I fail to the order of kindergartenal suicide
and prose my character to mold your moods in
one tenth hope of a swelled down deep particle
secret desire. Take it for what it is and not think
to misabandon,  stop  look  and feelisten.
Your neighbor is only good as you. Plain 
simple downdeep and bittersweet bliss bias
but for—lorn fortunate to at least gain a
Goldilocks glimpse into your uncouth
vascular unconscious. Given a mathetical
½ chance I may le-learn a think or 2
and----------------------hey,  gimme me a hecka break
as he razed her eyebrows.

Details | Student Poem | |

Missing my School Days

Period-wise, we used to arrange the bag,
Every book was covered and have a name tag,
Waking up early in morning, get ready to go,
May homework not done, but never were low.
In assembly, that anthemn, and prayer.
That going in queque like a disciplined mare,
Noise in class was like our birth right,
everything we do, was a height.
punishment from teacher was just a gift,
for communication through ends of classroom, require no rift,

Being OUT-Standing of class, more than being in,
Melodious, it seems for us, our noisy din.
No child was let to study in class,
No tension on face of future or marks.
That recess times cannot come back again,
for us adjectives were naughty and imsane,
That making new class love-stories,and mocking everyone,
Our only mission was from every day, may not learn anything but extract maximum fun.
Will never forget that playing in games period,
no tears were allowed, our rules were only laid.

Bell ringing aloud, Teacher has gone,
Student at back benches taking corn.
Oh!! I was sleeping and dreaming, I was in college,
Where classrooms are full of dirty gauge.

O God! Why i got elder so soon??
Missing my School days a lot, Which was for me, really a boon!!!

Details | Student Poem | |

Snooze School

The class was boring.
Some of the kids were snoring.
Well worth ignoring.