Rangitoto College Reunion
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I
Hearken back to the old rule nazis how
Deputy Fuhrer Hart led assembly -
with his bell, megaphone and monobrow
it was more like a Hitler Youth Rally!
And Commandant Lomas, old Purple Haze,
the Grand Inquisitor in my school days
II
The bells of Rangitoto ring once more
for all you inmates of its cellblock walls,
when we did our time and prison greys wore
and in rows sat its desks and filled its halls.
Across the room of aged fraternal clones
are raw epic tales of raging hormones
III
To meet again my accidental peers
who bare the soul to fleeting youth salvage,
who, post the rage of corduroys and flares,
covet the old glories that time ravage.
Well hey! Before this night’s out I’m thinking
“prep the bowl…it’s time for a bogwashing”
IV
Yet forgotten names in a guestbook scrolled
alas are not spared life’s mortal complaints,
and for every life story that was told
I cheered for the lepers and not the saints.
Some met with a smile and some I pass by -
a “class of” roll call of past alumni
V
With long memories in brief accordance
I longed for uniformed delinquency,
when bating those of foolish importance
eclipsed the pursuit of knowledge in me.
For each scoundrel, vamp, truant, and jackass
to you I filled and gladly raised my glass
VI
My magnetic petty crimes returned forth
when fingers did in my direction point,
yet my compass follows its own true north
and I stepped outside to smoke a fat joint!
But still in the spin of webs and true lies
with old friend and crush I did fraternise
VII
In her spell on the tangled vine I sought
its forbidden fruit and bittersweet wine -
I learnt that which truly cannot be taught
has a beckoning smile and lips devine.
And in flames and arrows that pierced my heart
burned a boy’s desire a long age apart
VIII
O breathless kiss that does a lifetime keep
and broken hearts conned by expectations,
the salutary lessons that cut so deep
quickly learning of our limitations.
What was once the rich coloured cloth of youth
is now the faded and frayed weave of truth
IX
The roll call of thirteen years continues
and ends where the Lord of the Flies began.
Who among you would that time again choose
and who stands before me a better man?
Not one of you roused me to greater heights
but agreed, some did rouse in your gym tights
X
I have drank largely a sailor's measure,
bested my threshold for futile disguise -
now I will carry on at my leisure
and leave you all to your own wild surmise.
For this group hug, if I am to be frank,
is nothing but a sentimental wank!
Written: November 1990
Note: pic is of my 6th Form class 1977.
That’s me middle of middle row.
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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