Best School Life Poems
What do you want out of Life?
The question seemed simple enough.
But not only had I never thought about it,
I didn’t understand it.
I really didn’t.
We’d always been poor and
taught to never ask for anything.
Why raise expectations
only to be disappointed?
How do you ask for anything?
Then what? Actually expect to get it?
Wouldn’t I just get shot down?
really ~
It was my last day of high school
and I was being launched out into the world
without understanding the meaning of that
one simple question that seemed so important.
What do you want out of Life?
It would be years till I thought
I vaguely figured it out.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
School: There once was a school
Classes filled with nice students
Our goal was to learn
But my dreams turned to ash
Then my dream was to get passed
“You’re a foot fairy” they say to me.
“You’re a band geek” they mock at me.
“You’re a Jesus freak” they bash on me.
What can I do to gain their love?
Hatred toward everything I do!
When will this pass?
High school needs to die.
“Poetry is for fags” they tell me.
“Man whore” they call me.
“Nerd” they laugh at me.
Why do they do this?
Discrimination flowing through their blood.
What will stop them?
High school needs to die.
We are young
Love to sing the red maple’s sorrow
Love to ask why people are so busy
Love teasing merchants as they crazily whooped
Sometimes we see sparrow’s head overturned
We will laugh all day long
Life is dancing with the cloud and moon
Poetry is the vintage
Drunk together with sunset
The days passed, nonsense with reveries
The old prophet read my palm prints
He saw a great success in my future
But, what if it lost its tune, just like a song
No more applause and I will be totally alone
Tears in the eyes
When my school began
Willing to go to home back
That time, the only place of heaven
A small child doesn't know much
What are books and what is school?
Just like that, I was unable to realize
That its very beautiful...
With span of time it brought
Some different changes in me
That school and home with no difference
seeming to be
An innocent child with bag on his back
Transformed into teenage
Now, school is home and home is bore
wishing, even sundays to be working days...
First time bunking the class
was severe challenge for me
But slightly with growing time
It became my cup of tea
Many scoldings and praises, I got
from almost every teachers
And i enjoy the school time
Enjoyment for me mainly matters...
But, slowly stress has increased
Only studies, studies and studies
My childhood was here and teenage is going
School is one which has taught me everything
I came with tears and will go with the same
But will leave the remark of my name
Its the thought of almost every student
That school life is the mixture of all enjoyment...
By the time I finished highschool, my top highest dream that I wanted to accomplish before any of my other so many dreams
Was
To become a nun
I wanted to be holy of the holiest
Wearing my long attire, all covered up
I wanted to be like the nuns in my highschool
I wanted to only focus on God, devoted to Him only
I wanted to live in a convent, with other sisters
After I finished highschool I visited a convent in Karen and I remember standing there by the gate imagining myself living there one day
After I finished highschool, I also did a lot of volunteering and charity work in children's homes
-Because I knew most of my work as a nun would be serving
But after a while, the little pocket money I had saved in highschool run out and so I couldn't visit all these places that I felt I was called to be
So I stayed home as I waited for my university acceptance
And that's when I reconnected with a friend from primary school
And she had stories that made my nun dream a hallucination
She told me of her first sex which was on the couch in her sister's house
She talked in details of the feels and fills of sex that left my innocent curious mind running wild
She talked of the blood stain on the couch and the arms that held her tight as she became a woman
And from there, all I wanted to be was that girl
From that sunny day under a tree where we girls talked for hours, my dream changed.
6:23 PM
Clock ticks ticks ticking
Hunched back and sprawled all over
I get this feeling
Fingers taps taps clicking
Pen taps in repetition
I hate this feeling
I stared at the calendar
And scorned at the squeaking birds outside
As well as the date presented
Circled in bold red
With the words
"Time's up!"
Numbers and letters on Excel
Determine how I excel
Teacher plays wizard
Competition rises
Prize of apples, robes, cars
Blood thirsty blood hounds
On a chase
Or a race
Bye, childhood
Friendliness no longer exists
I’m a monster
New goals
Apples, robes, cars
Sweat, blood, tears
What is chivalry?
Camaraderie?
It’s a hunt
For apples, robes, cars
Must survive
All those High School years, she stared at smiles
and would envy those, lined up in rows
shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the carefree days.
They with porcelain jewels, of sparkling white
she would have given her life to have such shine,
but was much too shy, to seek their eyes
At fifteen years old...she averted her eyes
while beneath her nose, no winning smile
would grace her face. So, to avoid disgrace, she declined to shine
or laugh with the kids in the algebra rows.
How often she'd long to star in the play and dazzle her whites
"Be patient," they'd tell her...."You'll be a beauty, one day"
And while she waited impatiently for that far away day
keeping chin down, this ugly duckling, with lowered eyes
It may seem extreme, but a few kids, with straight and white,
called her "Metal Mouth", which dampened her spirit and also her smile.
Barely could she eat the mushy fruits, passing the rows
of cripsy foods, ate mostly mashed and white, pining for a crisp apple to shine
She talked with a lisp, while awkward wires shined
and wore horrid bands. Then on those "Ortho" days
after school, while in uncomfortable chairs lined up in rows,
he'd greet, "How are you, Missy?" ..with his bespectacled eyes.
"Open wide"....(and with pliers that looked like her Dad's, but could fix a smile)
as, with all of his might, he adjusted and tightened....correcting her whites
Branded with bands across the whites
Correcting the gaps, the lapse, the crooked shine
A few like her with awkward smiles
Would count the hours and count the days
Longed for smiles to please the eye
And be so blessed with perfect rows
Finally one day, while sitting in rows
Snip-snip!, at last, he cried..."Let's free these whites"!!
With excitement, the life came back to her eyes
"I'll grant your wish, with a brand new shine!"
She was the happiest girl on the planet today
and she left his office with a brand new smile!
While sitting in school rows, she beams her white teeth, merrily joining the fun
Her eyes always shine now, she stands tall and proud, singing out loud in the sun
And during each school day, she smiles all the time, finally her life has begun!
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For Debbie's Joy contest (Sestina)
He was graced with long life as the work he required,
A present flame, aft he retired,
He deepened the souls that sat before him,
And made them express with written decorum.
He read their assignments with special attention
That challenged and called forth youth's finest rendition.
He opened the door to a life well read,
His students entangled in Baalat's web.
Gazing back through the specularium of time
One saw an intellect so immensely fine
That it slightly abashed those of higher grade,
His light joining their lights where others fade.
Moving on one lingered a bit in the past,
Still meeting challenges from his intellect, so vast.
That it scarce was contained
In the role for him framed.
His soul now borne upon the Stygian Lake
Leaves proper grammar trailing in its wake;
This gentle muse vanished in the night,
The curtains closed, doused the light.
No need for stately obelisk oe'r his bier
To greet mournful pilgrims once a year;
For though he'll be long gone,
The phallic symbol, he loved so, lives on.
School is like a prison
Deterring thee in a sacred cage,
And unleashing with two hidden...
Pin, one before quarter after, after each mate
And then you feel so jade.
School is like a lot
Leaving six pen on your desk with sense
One turn at a spot
Sight a handling of the six pen all in mess
And then you feel so dense
Many a life in school:at point zero, you are an hero
But hope narrowly to a shallow,
And leap close to a serpent arrow,
Never be shuddered or sorrow,
Draw close to thy holy shadow.
To be in school is every child’s dream
Like a duck who wants to be in stream
Just wearing a complete uniform
Feels like I’m a creature of new form
Terrific, so exciting and cool
That’s what I feel when I am in school
Looking forward to play with my friends
Scared of teachers’ test that’s hard and blends
Far from home it really makes me grow
Joyful that I am starting to glow
To Mighty God I am so thankful
For my school life is so colorful
The Other Side of the Tracks
By Elton Camp
The poor you always have with you”
These words of Jesus are still too true
The folks who read this haven’t known
The cruel nature of poverty of one’s own
That is equally true in my case as well
Just the same, their story I’ll try to tell
For I have seen poverty not so far away
And have heard the things they must say
It’s in a middle-class town where I reside
But penury exists, just not side-by-side
Quite near, just across the railroad track
Live the poor, some white and some black
They remained almost invisible to me
Until I worked census and then got to see
Rooms in a shack sealed with cardboard
As that was the best they could afford
How many baths have you, but never mind
I already saw the crude outhouse just behind
Plank floors, protruding springs in chairs
I’d hate to experience the life that’s theirs
Food stamps and other types of handout
Are the things their life is mostly about
Lacking even a minimum high school degree
Better circumstances they aren’t likely to see
Their children suffer perhaps with silent rage
Drop out of school when they come of age
From this, what could finally come to be
Is it class warfare that we will come to see?
Some few the cycle of poverty will break
But most a success in life will never make
A sad, young girl sits and glumly stares
And wonders if anybody, about her cares
I can only describe what I know to be so
But a practical solution I just don’t know
I walk into such thicket for such answers
Life purpose
For hope of learning nature’s charms
To find life purpose
For those days I lay dying
I hope to not discover—not living
I not want this life to live
Not to give up.
Unless it neededly be so
I wanted to remove from life:
That which that that fight bad
[And]Cowardly chaos
I sought to rim wide and tightly the tree [of life]
To drive life into no certain escape
To deprive, of all luxuries, it.
If it prove a fighter . . .
Then I’d so speak of this
In published prose
Be it gentle—or sweet
As lover may so be
Of such I’d ably speak truly
I see as it lie—in men’s lives
For there to be an unknown
Whether it be:
DIVINE
OR
DASTARDLY DIVINE
I walk into such thicket for such answers.
I’m huddled up in my usual spot outside
Cold as a dog’s nose
On the old park bench, eating air pies
Drinking crushed sun, watching for a sign
Counting days, waiting for rain
There are signs everywhere, the crowd
In every sense a herd
But not behaving like one
I have seen them before and I see them now
People who look like trees
Walking tall, laughing out loud
Talking, choking on thought, walking
There is nothing here but hunger
Nothing here but thunder
In my stomach, lightning in my mind
I am no Jack Horner and there is no Christmas pie
But I see the Christmas lights
I see flickers in the dark night. There’s nothing in this
They have nothing but darkness of heart
They care naught who pass me by
They can’t be bothered
I am Lazarus, sitting at your gate
Invisible to the naked eye, a figure in the shadows
A picture in the rubble
Action figure, dumpster diver
Between us and them there is a great chasm fixed
I would be grateful for another crumb of bread
Master, what must I do to be saved?
It means a lot to me. It matters that you asked
My plight is simple, and so is the solution
I will work for food, but every sign indicates to me
That there are no vacancies, no jobs
My communication is lost in translation
I came into the world with egg in face
I see a world in intermission
Moving fast forward but also in fast reverse
The rich young ruler left with a long face
With thanks
Original poem by Kenny Gwena appeared in an anthology titled "Hunger"
Inspired by true events and four books "Waiting for the Rain" by Charles Mungoshi, "Man Gone Down" by Michael Thomas, "The Wasteland" by T.S. Eliot, and "The Holy Bible""