Best Classes Poems
I’m in a psychology class and as part of it we filled out several, detailed, personality evaluations. They said these were helpful in forming a psychological profile of the freshmen classes each year and of particular interest were these COVID years.
The professor said she’d be available, before finals, to review them with us if we were interested - and I volunteered. So in our review we’re going over my results and she says: “Your trauma history could produce this constellation of wit, wiriness and attachment-anxiety.”
I flinch, irritably, thinking, my “trauma history?” What, “trauma history?” Wondering if - maybe the professor was looking at the wrong paper?
She read my reaction and the consternation on my face, started flipping through the papers, and said, “According to the history you submitted, your father was killed when you were seven and you were hospitalized for...”
“OMG” I thought, blanking out what she was saying, “How could I have forgotten THAT?” Even for a moment. Then I sag with this oppressive, blanket-like wave of guilt at having put the crash so far out of my mind.
“The dismissal of childhood trauma is quite normal,” she said, putting her hand on my arm, “You have to put trauma out of your everyday thoughts - to get on with your life.” She assured me. “It’s quite normal.”
How many blind sides do I have? I wondered
The longer
the classes,
the stronger
the glasses.
Volodymyr Knyr
2014
There once was a group of old men,
Who tried yoga to cherchez la femme.
They hoped to relax,
But just got stiff backs,
And decided it wasn’t for them.
In asses no classes,
All are the same case,
In cl-asses,
All are asses,
But,
The teachers assess one!
Open Word Classes
In language there are classes, we are told,
Of words both new and old.
Nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs too,
And among them, open word classes few.
Nouns, the names of things and beings,
Verbs, actions that give them meanings.
Adjectives, describing how things are,
Adverbs, telling when and where they occur.
But in the open classes, there is more,
Words that keep growing, like an open door.
Interjections, expressing emotion pure,
Conjunctions, connecting clauses sure.
Prepositions, showing position and relation,
And articles, signaling a specific sensation.
These open classes, ever-changing and free,
Reflect the dynamism of language, you see.
For new words can be added with ease,
As culture and technology shift and tease.
And though rules and structure remain,
Open classes expand, our language domain.
So let us celebrate the open word classes,
For they reflect how language amasses.
A rich and diverse range of expression,
For us to use in endless succession.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY
Having lied about our skin,
her parents called me a monster,
an African savage where my teeth sounded
against the Amazon's moon.
I love her, yes sir! as a running slave,
and I speak Creole and I speak African too
why the parents refuse to see the truth
where we came from?
Along the River of Coppename I wrote
my destiny which flows, detailing of my despairs,
through the waves.
Once day, now I have seen it
in the night of Sipaliwini, I'll steal her and I'll run,
and I'll run to the Southern Mountains.
By Laura D
August 31, 2016
Through blurry lines that redesign my sunshine mind
I climb a height I never knew would drive me blind
There lies a forgotten sunset shore where my hair is longer
Where I'm a little bit stronger and their gaze never wanders
I dream this every night and wake up just the same
Too angular a face; My makeup is a game
My hunger never fades and somedays I can't see
Through every possibility where every day is just a breeze
I have anger in my heart and scars inside my head
Full of every dream i've had and all the words I've left unsaid
Bring back the empty words I never fully understood
The perfect face that stood in grace; enjoy the things I never could
Tomorrow night we’re learning to dance
Hope it leads to a little more romance
I will wear high heels and a flowery dress
My hubby will be happy I must confess
He will twirl me round as my waist he clutches
I’ve pre-warned the teacher bring two pairs of crutches!
Jan Allison
11th June 2014
The Lower class
Have people interpret the words for them.
The Middle class
Simply read with their eyes.
The Upper class
Do not read at all.
In fact,
They just stare at a blank page because
If you are rich enough,
You are the poem.
Summer reading classes begins June through August this is a great fun way for the entire family to get involved enhancing students ability to stay focus preparing for the upcoming school year I adored summer reading we did Catholic School Stem and IB which gives the students entry levels into college courses student’s are giving book list to complete with reading assignments annotations after they complete the books fun fun fun summer classes are great ways to keep their credits for honors classes as well they can also study electives during the summer Spanish French including orchestral classes we chose orchestra classes theatre’s drama from Violins Cellos to Violas you can rent used Violas instruments this was fun ways to keep busy during Covid home schooling online classes in Florida students must have computers some sights opened up and issued computers to students spectrum was awesome they offered Wi-Fi internet connections helping students this year is going to be challenging for students who losses everything during the storms hurricanes are devastation for loss however Floridians we are resilient rebuilding helping recovering restoring getting a head start keeping students from falling behind keeping them soaring in any given situation start getting ready list early fine tune instruments freshening up on Spanish French other foreign languages preparation for college course school year will be here before we know and there could be more storms reading is perfect distraction from power outages don’t wait to summer to get your summer reading list for the summer classes many blessings to all our families student’s and staff
I have rituals
for the first day of class
like a superstitious athlete
they get me into a good frame of mind
where I feel like a juggernaut who has total agency
and I don’t need to seek validation
It’s a moment in time
I have all my books—stacked on my desk
they look serious—very nuts and bolts
I’ve beaten the syllabuses to death
to try to figure out where my power lies
learning is all energy, it’s a marathon
it’s hard to sustain that for the entire semester
so not switching off, now and then, is unrealistic
Still, I’m comfy in in a classroom (I’m a senior)
Good students are just a little weird.
I say hello to the moon so she won’t feel alone
I say ‘cheers,” before taking a shot of mouthwash.
If I lose my ID, my lucky pencil or something, I call out, “treasure hunt!”
When treating everyone to grubHub I ask, ‘the usual?’ When we’re done I ask, ‘how was everything this evening?’
If I see a random girl looking fabulous, I tell her, because if I get complimented, I think about it for a week.
.
.
A song for this:
Thetan by Single Gun Theory
"Miss Stokes, what do you think Pip was thinking?"
Uh-oh. I possibly should not have pretended to be my twin today.
I am taking her classes, pretending I am sick, rather than she.
This is 7th grade English, and I have not even heard the word
Great Expectations because my twin hates English as much as I
despise math.
In my English class we are tearing sentences apart and doing boring tree things out of them.
Um....
"I think I have to go to the bathroom!" I yell, clutching myself, running out of the classroom.
My classmates laugh.
Some have been laughing through math and science too.
They all know which twin I am.
It is only the teachers who cannot tell us apart.
I return to see a pop quiz face down on my sister's desk.
The first question is about Pip with enough space to write
sixteen paragraphs.
I begin cautiously.
"Pip is a wonderful dog," I write.....
Master classes were held in East Sussex
and the Sussex girl played tune
with ease to her master.
She played the grand piano all the day
and the master hummed along,
time barely noticing.
People thought they were having an affair,
as nobody else took part
in the lessons grandly.
9/11/2015
I have a couple of ‘research for credit’ classes this semester and I’m spending a lot of time with my TAs. Teaching Assistants (grad students) are essentially approachable professors with longer office hours, faster response times and a willingness to spend a little time walking me through options, so I understand the material and don’t charge-off in some crazy direction. I have a flawless record of wasting time on the wrong things at the wrong times, so I never feel silly or dumb asking questions.
AM I having fun yet? Yeah, I am.
A bell dings. Let the fighters enter the ring.
There’s a gathering of things, then we rush for the wings.
Students are bolting from classes, like riders out of rodeo shoots.
Focused faces, off to the races, phones appear from a hundred places.
Outside, a cool, brisk breeze moves paper-mâché clouds, across the blue-dome sky.
Squirrels freeze from their thieving, and watch this sudden, noisy invasion of their world.
There’s a bee-like buzz of conversations, from ahead, behind and in doppler passing.
“Question six - was that right - what are you wearing to the thing tonight?”
My tummy growls for some lunch time relief - a plea for a snack - or coffee’s appeasement.
I glance at my watch, there’s no time. I leave the path for the grass;
I have an immediate class! Why are people so slow?
I get heinous looks - it’s grass people - kiss my a$s people.
I squeeze sideways in the crush to enter the Kline Biology Tower, atop science hill.
In the hallway I find Lisa, we share the next class. “Do you have a granola bar?” I ask.
“I’ve got two,” she brags, fishing one out, as we drop our bookbags.
As I moan with pleasure, she chuckles at the relief on my face.
The TA announces, ”You should have papers, pass ‘em, please.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Home by Luke Chiang
No Other Plans by Sunny Levine
The super powerful wealthy elite,
does none of the work, but keeps all of the money,
reaping all of the benefits,
without paying any taxes.
The middle class does all of the work for very little money,
pays all of the taxes while enjoying very little benefits if any.
The poor are just there to scare the crap out of the middle class,
to keep them showing up at those jobs for as long as their lives last.