Best Lockers Poems
Silence is my native tongue, when I open my mouth
My true and unclear colors come out.
One may see me differently, but I know I’m still the same.
I have many countless layers yet, shysters still don’t see me,
But judge me. My crimson eyes have been polluted
By gossipers and power hungry fiends.
Sometimes I forget who I am and in doing so, others do too.
People see me in a different light saying things like,
‘Oh she’s no angel, and quiet people can’t fight.’
What angle are you viewing me from?
You think you can create or be a better me?
Even in the hallway fiends seem to think
I’m alone among the sea of blue lockers.
Speaking indirectly, their malicious tongues
Spit venom, attempting to ignite forest fires.
Yet I remain un wilted by their itchy voices
That begs to be scratch by my cold hands.
I am reassured by my quiet brothers and sisters
With the touch of their slight nods and ever watching eyes,
That if those shysters become beaten like dead corpses
They will remain an unsolved cold case.
Our mute sounds bark louder
Than any wondering spirit and our eyes hide
The fact they we are both cunning and bold.
I am a chameleon, the wind moves
With my spirit like a leaf
Dancing upon invisible seas.
Don’t take this silence for granted,
It has backbiting edges and some sharp curves.
Since I know all this, why should I say a word?
Categories:
lockers, life, social, teen, me,
Form:
Bio
Mondays were school days.
Mondays were rule days.
Mondays can be cruel days.
Sundays make me sing
but Mondays bring
open books,
a crooked look from the boss,
leaving crying children
with their first strangers.
The outlook for Monday
might be blue
or overly optimistic.
Moms love Mondays,
circling the day
with a fat red marker.
Moony-eyed Mondays,
for lovers
separated by the weekend.
Their love-mobile
yellow bus, reunites their lips.
Shy Mondays
hide behind rain clouds,
and binders and backpacks,
and inside lockers,
and behind thick glasses.
Fridays make you tingle.
Mondays are the starting line.
The race is on!
You step over the line
and yawn and sip
coffee with reluctance.
Your t-shirt speaks loudly,
“I don’t do Mondays!”
No one hears you.
7/30/2018
Tania Kitchin’s Contest
Categories:
lockers, day,
Form:
Free verse
As you can see,
This game is between you and
me.
I try to shoot,
But I realize that I'm wearing
boots!
Where are my sneakers?
Wait, they're in my lockers.
I tie my shoe laces tight,
With a smile that's shining
bright.
I'm running to the hoop,
Trying to shoot.
SCORE!!!
I'm winning this game,
The crowd are screaming my
name.
I finally success,
This game is the BEST!!!
Categories:
lockers, basketball, success,
Form:
Rhyme
Tis a lovely day for students are glad
The last day of the school year is anything but sad
No more assignments to study nor papers to write
Students can deal with William Shakespeare at next year’s fight
Textbooks have been returned and stored away
Lockers are cleaned out with nothing to stay
The students rejoice with the last bell’s ringing
But the teachers are doing a happy dance
And tis they who are doing all the singing!!
Categories:
lockers, childhood, day, funny, people,
Form:
Rhyme
(A List Poem)
Top Shelves:
in kitchen cabinets,
linen closets,
refrigerators,
bookcases,
and storage lockers.
Hooks;
on garage pegboards,
porch ceilings,
and in clothes closets.
Tree limbs:
for hanging;
bird-feeders,
tire swings,
and wind chimes.
The spot on the wall
where pictures & paintings
need to be hung.
Grandchildren,
or almost anyone,
who wants a hug.
If you’re like me--
top out at five-three—
everything – simply everything
seems too high up.
.
Categories:
lockers, angst, self,
Form:
Light Verse
Once seduced by his junior coworkers
Old man took his dates to the lockers
They used penile tweezers
And shagged like young weasels
Too bad he forgot beta-blockers
Categories:
lockers, funny, games, lust, men,
Form:
Limerick
PERSERVERANCE BREEDS SUCCESS
Jss One was an insult, I cried
Like time should hit full stop,
My breakfast was sweet without
Salt,
My parents tasted like this evil
Citrus,
I continued to hide like Air Force
Was only for my seniors.
Jss Two arrived with the wind called
Releave
I began to breath as an aspiring king
Now I believe the race would definitely
Finish.
Jss Three was the mighty season
Everyday had a sweet beginning
Suddenly the queen became pretty
As boys begin to fill big,
Every Sunday I was in the dining hall
To clean wasted beans,
The brown Khaki now fits my tiny skin.
Never did I forget the mighty JSCE.
Ss1, trousers became the big deal,
I was also a victim for every ss3's
Laundry,
Morning duty was almost ending,
Up keep of the latrine was attached to
Me.
Inter house games had huge meaning
These was the day to show all my special
Skills
And entice that pretty queen,
As we stroll through freedom tree
Dangling the box room's key,
My sunday wear now had this profound whitish Glimpse.
At ss2, I became a commissioned officer
I began to predict the whether,
Even during holidays, I dreamt of returning
To my headquarters,
In Jaguar I had two lockers.
In Dornier my friends sent invites for
Dinner
Alpha wasn't my regular signal,
She whipped me in basketball finals.
I measured my days and wised there
Could be an alternative taste
But JPE was the key to unlock ss3 dreams.
Been a finalist was like magic
Today I float on the atlantic
As I scream 'ONE BOY'
The hostel begins to panic
Ariku becomes my transit
I trained this special team of bandits
So I had a contraband producing factory.
The days now had wings
Time flew without traffic.
My ink recollect's like she was a five
Minutes conference meeting,
Many couldn't climb this Iroko
For sex seasons.
Today, am not only an ALUMNI
But an harden fresh corrosive lime
Ready to swim under river Nile's eye.
AFCS is high in the sky
With the flying colors that now
Leave in my life.
KEYWORDS:
Jss_ junior secondary
SS: Senior secondary
Jsce: Junior secondary certificate examination
Jpe: Joint promotion examination.
Ariku: A small town in Iwo,Ibadan,Nigeria.
Khaki: A thick brown material
AFCS: Air Force Comprehensive School.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA.
Categories:
lockers, artsweet, sweet,
Form:
Ballade
There once was a thin young man from Yonkers
Who with his drum drove his neighbors bonkers.
Gave it beat
With more heat
Till fish landed on him from near lockers.
Categories:
lockers, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Walking by the high school lockers,
Is like walking by some unleashed doors,
You don't know what is hidden in this persistent floor.
Some footsteps of a scientist or a future star,
Are someone next to you in their minds so far...
Some are modest and shy and some are mean spirited,
There are some determined and shrwed all tied into a single gift.
As you open your locker you choose your way,
Like soldiers who never betray.
You may become honest or quite prudent,
As their is an angel in your soul hiding her eloquence.
There you may face dynamism or foolhardy,
But don't lose your charm because you are the SPECIAL SOMEBODY....
(This poem is dedicated to all my fellow poets who have chosen their way to achieve their hidden desires...n don't frgt that evry1 is unique and is so special)
Categories:
lockers, care, encouraging,
Form:
ABC
Basement
Occupied of dirty laundry
Comic books
And Chuck Palahniuk
This grungy fume
Smells of coffee beans
Stirred with cigarette butts
And dirty feet
Neutral Milk Hotel is singing
Through that dirty old stereo of yours
On top is a stack of
Scratched up mixes I created
Elliott Smith
Built to Spill
And Leslie Feist
Scribbled with my sharpies
24 pack purchased at Costco
This scene
Is all too familiar
And this room reeks
Of the late Saturday nights
Spent watching Spiderman one and two
Not three
Those summer days
Full of slices at Dream
And rooftop adventures
The miles soaked
In that dark maroon truck
Where your baby brother’s safety chair
Always got tangled up with the seat belt
You got frustrated
And I just laughed
Those kitchen afternoons
Full of Honey Bunches of Oats
And mouth-watering sandwiches
Light on the mayo
And heavy on the mustard
The lazy Sundays
Keeping our hands warm
With a cup of English Breakfast
Find us downtown
Wondering around Second Street
Notes left on the counter
Don’t forget to water the plants
And absolutely no guests
With an examination mark at the end
Love, Mom
You never did forget to water the plants
Hand in hand
With a zip lock bag full of trail mix
Extra M&M’s
With the world at our feet
That smile of yours
Takes me back
Seventh grade
Three seats ahead of me
A small frame
With a big head
Abnormally long arms
A devious smile
From ear to ear
No braces provided
Massive hands
And uneven bangs
A deep voice
For a little man
Stuck inside
A supernatural world
Full of villains
And superhero capes
Plaid jacket
Everyday
Snatched from Goodwill
Cheated the soda machine
And smacked lockers
Just to hear the magnetic mirrors
Crash
The face is so familiar
And the past is vivid
But I know nothing about you
How are you?
How is she?
Do you remember that
One time we
Raced in the dark
Till our insides almost exploded
That night I almost fell
Off your rooftop
Pointing out the Big Dipper
These times
Float through my mind
Vividly
By the way
Your hideous attempt
To draw a triceratops
Is still hanging on my wall
Thanks for that
Categories:
lockers, friendship, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
An old lady
her heart yearning
for memories
lost in time lockers
Categories:
lockers, imagination
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Yesterday my wife and boy passed on from this despicable scene.
Trapped in the floating, cesspool of human misery for months we have been.
I tried to weep for them, yet no tears would break free from my eyes.
I held their lifeless bodies for hours as I said my good byes.
The ships crew made their morning ritual to cast out the dead and smelly.
Rough hands unceremoniously drag the poor souls from the boats belly.
Overboard they are tossed, into the briney depths of the sea.
Some barely alive, desperate cries for mercy is their plea.
Convicts we are, made up of rogues, vagrants, murderers and thieves.
Some, like me, wrongly accused debtors who no one believes.
For some the only crime committed was being dealt the peasants hand.
Without any choice, sent to the penal colonies of Van Diemons land.
I used to love the ocean, where I could dip my feet into its shore.
Now I detest its tempest, the angry swell, I utterly abhor.
The waves now taunt me, beckoning me to be immersed under their caps of white.
To be swallowed forever with its multitude of secrets, hidden from the light.
Awakened from fitful slumber by a thunderous crash on Starboard side.
Poseidon has thrust his trident, the prongs split the ship open wide.
The sea cleansing its surface of flotsam, the waves engulf the boat.
Its dastardly deed done with precision, the cargo down Davey Jones lockers throat.
Somehow I am floating on the dark water, fearing what lies down below.
Clinging to a makeshift raft that will now become my bedfellow.
Am I free of my captors? Has the sea spared me from a watery grave?
I lie limp on my wooden floatilla, drifting in and out of reality wave after wave.
Categories:
lockers, adventure, history,
Form:
Rhyme
In high school we met...walked the halls hand in hand;
he carried my books...by our lockers, we'd stand.
We went out to dinner, our special first date,
shared thoughts, later kissed; each had found a soul-mate.
Before very long, our true love appeared strong,
and we knew in each other's arms we belonged.
He joined the Marines after school, end of June.
Our hearts held together by cupid's harpoon.
Consumed by deep love, it was painful to part;
we would meet 'neath our moon many miles apart.
Wrote letters each day and prayed hard for time when
he'd come home on leave, be together again.
Two years later, we married...new life to start.
Now fifty-eight years still each other's sweetheart.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Long Distance Love
Sponsor: Nicola Byrne
Judged: 10/19/2016
~5th Place~
Contest: Our Year In Love
Sponsor: Olive Eloisa Guillermo
Judged: 02/20/2016
Categories:
lockers, first love,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw a dream, the one in color.
That made me wonder if it's real.
I felt desire and felt purpose.
While steering boat made of steel.
.
There was an island on horizon.
And waves were calmly hugging shore.
The Sun was shining, clouds smiling.
And joy pierced air ever more.
.
So unobtrusively inviting
That island called me - "Welcome in".
The Angels sang and fish were jumping.
My heart felt like in ... well, in dream.
.
So, as I paddled little closer
I came to see a tree in sky.
With mighty roots impaling ground,
Thick leaves, ripe fruits and branches high.
.
The quiet voice without tremble
Kept whispering - "man, this is it.
Just look at leaves and fill your pockets.
They are same green as bucks and greed".
.
And suddenly, the Sun was winking,
The fish and crabs became a stew.
The closed doors lost all the lockers.
Unreachable got in foot or two.
.
The life got easier and joyful.
So many friends are rushing in.
The popularity, butt kissing
Shoot through the roof. I'm loved like king.
.
Then I woke up. The fading patches.
The joy inside but pain in heart.
Conflict of animals and Angels.
Feed Soul or Body, that's our fact.
Categories:
lockers, beach, evil, fantasy, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
There is a girl named Whips
Whips is a gymnast with lots of rips
All over her hands
from the bar.
She eats soup all day
She collects cans from her soup
She has a whole bunch of cans
In her lockers.
She is bonkers
But she is a good gymnast.
By Aunika Alch
Age12
Categories:
lockers, child, crazy, food, kids,
Form:
Abecedarian