Best Schoolmates Poems
THESE ARE THE DAYS
These are the days of turmoil and sorrow
Days that mirror Sodom and Gomorrah
Days where our country is engaged in war
Days that God must certainly abhor
Days where children senselessly kill
Schoolmates and teachers just for a thrill
These are the days where drug lords rule
Where justice is spurned and played the fool
Murder and mayhem are a way of life
Creating fear and causing great strife
These are the days where justice is blind
Days that may soon be the fall of mankind
These are the days that many are dreading
Days that may soon become Armageddon
These are the days that are beginning to look
Like those described in Revelation's book
These are the days of misfortune for man
Days that are difficult to understand
But every knee shall bow and every tongue confess
That Jesus is Lord and He will end all stress
He will separate the goats from the sheep
There will be great sorrow and gnashing of teeth
Christ is the Truth, the Life, and the Way
To escape the torment of 'these are the days'
31 May 2018
For the contest sponsored by Daniel Turner
Categories:
schoolmates, anxiety, bereavement, bible, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
7/22/21
People continuing to show hate
As if they themselves are so great
While the planet continues to rotate
Boy you need a lot more than Colgate
You thought it did, but it carried no weight
Don't make me, or I'll put you in yo place
The evidence will be difficult to locate
Only got 24 so I poured up some twenty fours
Ready for many more
It's been a deadly war
Pulled through with tremendous force
While I weathered any storms
The answers to such questions, is like seeking an endless source
People continuing to act fake
In good or bad shape
Dealing with another backache
Life will give and it shall take
Let's get the facts straight
Life moves at a fast pace
Don't end up in last place
In this giant rat race
Why have they
Continued to act that way
Been another bad day
Empty bottles and an ashtray
The same old pathway
Could just never keep it all at bay
It's been revolting
As life continues unfolding
After the whole thing
Not just a gold ring
Yet it always ends up being an ice cold drink
Empty or a full drink
Be bold or sink
Who am I kidding, I always got one, like it's a cool thing
What the f*** am I really doing?
Who am I truly fooling?
Why am I always smoking and boozing?
Winning and losing
At times it is or isn't amusing
As death is always looming
Underneath objects in the sky zooming
In space matter devoured by black holes that keep consuming
Regardless of if we once were schoolmates
It's all been a wild goose chase
People still being two faced
Calling others a fruitcake
Let me give ya'll a news break
I'm going to get much more than a few scrapes
While above and below sluice gates
Having a wallet and safe full of bills with a blue face
Still traveling through space
Got rid of the evidence, no need for a suitcase
Those that give and others who take
Coming in rough, obscure or smooth shapes
Close to estates that grew grapes
In order to make
Wine all the time, before it's all too late
Before it's all too late
What's getting accomplished if always you wait?
I'm going to continue to mutate
Getting it done before the due date
Otherwise it all would be a huge waste
Categories:
schoolmates, dark, deep, life, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
Rubbing boys shoulders with sunburn oil. The sun smiles at the pain, the brush of fingers against raw flesh. But like a war wound, those boys be proud. Offer them a salve and they scoff, don’t need that stuff. Head back to the beach. Nudge them with a board and a wave, and they take off, up to their knees, casting themselves into the sea. Cheeks and hairlines have enemies, but the boys will wait for the tan that turns them brown, puffed up, back to tell the tales to jealous schoolmates.
They won’t speak of palm trees, nor the hot sand; perhaps they will not even remember what to say, until a prompt. Perhaps they won’t shut up about the knock down, drag out fights with the ebb and flow of riptides.
They might not remember the food that filled their empty bellies, but they enjoyed each bite of burgers at Ford’s Garage in the oldest city in America. I heard from an eyewitness that it has ghosts, the city, not this particular haunt.
Packed like fish, we headed to Florida, having to use one of the back seats for the overflow of things. My oldest grandson had to endure his seat, likened to a ball turret gunner. But this pubescent heartbreaker, though cramped, loved the isolation.
Speed traps, speedy biker, ear-splitting emergency vehicles, pelicans;
and a swift breeze upon a chilly-sunburn covered up with a soft blanket and cozied up to grandma (of course this is the nine year old).
Trip back as the GPS constantly pushed us farther from home, not in miles but in minutes and hours. But the miles moved quicker than a remembered icestorm where I couldn’t get home (only 10 minutes away), so like all long travel, the kids got their first taste, and survived.
So much to say, but signing off…
Categories:
schoolmates, travel,
Form:
Narrative
This poem is dedicated to all my friends,
The loyal pals who came up to me with royal relationships
who encouraged me always in my performances,songs,dramas,poems and speeches.
And particularly my schoolmates of Sentia and Silver Oaks.
Maharashtra to Melbourne.
Jaipur to Jamaica.
Jharkhand to jersey.
Himachal to Hamilton.
Lakshadweep to Lanka
Kerala to Cape town
Shimla to Sydney
Manipur to Malaysia.
Antartica to Karnataka
Andaman to aucland
Ameerpet to Antarctica
Pune to Portugal.
Sikkim to Singapore
Warangal to Washington
Andhra to Argentina
Telangana to Trafford.
Our bliss should be visible.
Our teasing should be audible.
Our way should be walk-able.
Our mistakes should be meltable.
Our sneer should be sensible.
Our intention should be amiable.
Our rhythm should be rock able.
Our fun should not be lock able.
Our harmony should be beautiful.
Hence our life should be delightful
and hope my poem will not be painful.
And it will be meaningful and this is dedicated to all my pals.
Categories:
schoolmates, best friend, blessing, boyfriend,
Form:
Epic
She knows she’s young
She’s lost her fun
In so little years
She’s filled with so many fears
Her momma scolds
Tells her she’s she got no hold
She sits and reads Matilda
Momma says to go out with her sister
She’s told she’s not pretty
She says she’s just a kid
They tell her without a boyfriend
She cannot play with them
She loves to Skip
She loves her toys
She just wants friendship
Doesn’t matter with girls or with boys
And as sixth grade ends and she’s lost her friends
Who are so eager to go and grow up
She decides to keep quietly to herself
Or else they’ll tell her to shut up
She loves being a kid
Still wants to play pretend
Doesn’t want to worry about makeup
Doesn’t want to worry about growth
Doesn’t want to style her hair, just wants to keep it short
Told she looks like a boy but she likes being different
Doesn’t want to be irreverent
She still feels like she’s eleven
And just wants to keep on shining
Wants to keep looking at the world as amazing
She doesn’t know what to do
She loves a man who’s 22
She knows she is much too young
And knows he thinks of her as young and dumb
He gives her a smile and walks on by
He calls her a “Pop tart” and gives her a high five
She dreams 10 years going by
When she’s allowed to be in his life
But she thinks then he’ll have a wife
And she’ll just dream of being the lonely bride
Will she have another chance
Was this her only shot?
She wonders what high school will be like
Will she be able to have another start?
She still wishes to make her mama proud
But she just wants a well primed child
She couldn’t be a beauty queen
And couldn’t dance or sing
She just likes to climb trees and read
And she still wants that into her teens
For this little twelve year old girl
Life was a nonstop whirl
The days go by too fast
She feels pretty soon she’ll be looking her last
As all her schoolmates gossip and change
She still wants to remain strange
She thinks about him everyday
And the days remain the same, the same
She’s older
She’s getting older
She’s getting older and she wants to go back
She takes old pictures, puts them in order
So that she can always look back
Categories:
schoolmates, age, anxiety, beautiful, change,
Form:
Ballad
As we walk down this lonely forest road, we see two new paths to take
And suddenly it is clear, the choice we have to make
Although we’ve walked this road a while, some of us depart
To go down a brand new road leaving the well worn road that has been printed into your heart
And yes, we’ll surely miss you, but you’ll have adventures, just wait and see
And as you take the new road, I hope that you’ll miss me
But just remember the times we wearied, and needed someone to lean on
And when the lonely path seemed too dismal and all hope seemed just gone
And when our hearts sang with joy, or simmered with hidden fury
Or when the longest dark night tread seemed to be in no hurry
Our friends were always there to support, in the good times and the bad
And when you tripped and fell, We were there to hold you up, and comfort when you were sad
So even though this brand new journey together ends in this fork in the road, right here
For the thought that you’re forgotten, you never have to fear
For the memories we’ve made along the way, just let them fill your mind
You’ll never be alone, true friends you’ll always find
I’ll miss you, but surely as the eagle flies
I’ll see you again on the lonely path that winds beneath the sky
-Skylar Remble
(This poem is in honor of Robert Frost's "A Road Not Taken" My poem is about a road that is taken)
Categories:
schoolmates, 6th grade, best friend,
Form:
Rhyme
Spring rain; river overflows, shallow lake fills.
Riding a log, two girls explore the flotsam,
Find boat; old, damaged, half sunk, ruined, mostly.
They shout out, show teasing boys, schoolmates, the wreck.
Delighted boys drag the hulk home, repair, seal.
Girls watch the project day by day; at last done.
Boys and girls launch, try it out by twos, threes, more.
Success. No leaks. Make lunch and sail down river.
An abandoned house appears. Going ashore—
They explore, eat lunch, play games, dare each other—
To strip. They all do. They dance, sun shines...time stops.
Categories:
schoolmates, beauty, childhood, dance, feelings,
Form:
Free verse
The quite teenager went to school on foot,
never was late or tried to cheat on any test;
he ate fruits and veggies and stayed lean...
realizing that discipline was a good medicine.
Years went by and he became a physician;
many diseases he cured, even eye vision,
but his schoolmates frequented hotel rooms that smelled of booze...
they had unprotected sex and snorted cocaine: weren't they the losers?
Categories:
schoolmates, education, food, health, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
Outside my dorm window, the snow began to fall;
Everybody had gone home, but I didn’t have a car.
Christmas break started yesterday, they’re gonna throw me out;
I’ve got no place to go, I’ll just be wandering about.
Rubbing elbows with the rich kids on an academic ride,
But the tracks that I come from are from the other side.
No daddy who’s a lawyer; no mother with a doctorate degree,
No car keys to a new Porsche underneath a Christmas tree.
Threw some clothes in my backpack with the cafeteria food that I stole;
Borrowed my roommate’s comforter to protect me from the cold.
Found a shelter for the homeless on the other side of town;
With my First Year Contract Law book, I started to hunker down.
A little boy walked up beside me and stood beside my cot,
“Mister, would you like to share my candy, it’s the only thing I got.
I’ll give you half my candy cane if you read me a story from your book.”
How could I refuse this little boy and the longing in his look?
“You can keep your Christmas candy, but I will tell you a story,
About a newborn baby King and the star that signaled glory.”
As I told the story of Christmas, the best I could recall,
People gathered around the two of use as the snow outside did fall.
When my story was finally over, the little boy just smiled,
And put a smile on every other face that gathered in the crowd;
Then he looked at every one of us and said, so simply,
“Jesus Christ put that star of hope into all of you and me.”
Suddenly, my self-pity flew right out of my soul,
Becoming rich like all my schoolmates, no longer was my goal,
I closed up my text book and went outside into the snow,
Laying on our backs, making snow angels, we watched the stars aglow.
“The star of hope still shines brightly, each and every Christmas night,
With our faith in baby Jesus, everything will turn out all right.”
I returned back to the university and finished my degree,
Dedicating my life thereafter to helping others out of poverty.
Every Christmas Eve I go back to that shelter on the far side of town,
And retell the story of Christmas to whoever comes around.
Categories:
schoolmates, christmas, giving,
Form:
Rhyme
A Chinese girl I took to a nunnery
I
I led her
Her silent leg-irons cutting into my shins
That day when the air stood still
Dry as the day perhaps on the hill
when he spoke standing still
Drier still my words today
of a redundant ransom of flesh:
I’ll take you to the stopping place
Where the quiet cowled nuns make lace
They run a school for well-bred girls
In a cloistered fenced-in arbour
There where you’d have no need for curls
She turned just then seven and ten
Me barely two more when
She said in a breathless moan:
Take me to the French Convent
Here my road has come to an end
I want to learn
I want to gain
As much knowledge as my brain
Will strive to contain
I had no choice
I had no voice
In a Chinese school which stopped midways
She was the best of forty times five
Where I was hoarse from English and Science
She sat so close in the front row
She must have felt my breath at home
Her cowlick hand stretched crooked
Brushed my thoughts down my mane
Something about her dragging gait
Spoke of late hours as a kitchen mate
Or as the matron of squabbling squawking siblings
When the mother scrubbed and ironed
the landlord’s lingerie and loins
A saddened face she kept awake
All through the hours at stake
II
It took me days and days of doubting pains
To ring at last the nunnery bell
And to stare aghast at a pallid face
Not quite white and not quite couched in cowl
To register my request
The novice drew and barred the door
As though I would break down the wall
And as the minutes raced in anguish by
And I heard the rusted pig-iron latch click open
Two forbidding eyes contemplated my plight
Under strictly starched and stretched folds a-sail:
“Is she Catho…” she made to ask
Then as urgently withdrew her demand.
“Bring her tomorrow at eight,” she let her words
escape.
“Ring the bell at the gate.”
I never saw the demure girl again.
Her schoolmates thought she worked for the nuns.
Others: “ She took some vows!”
A sibling: “ She took no clothes for a change!”
Just before her silhouette effaced itself
Under the porch of creepers dense
She turned to give me a look:
Was it a look of despair
Or a well-thought-out
farewell fair?
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
schoolmates, farewell,
Form:
Free verse
Schoolmates
By Franklin Price
8/16/2016
Most schoolmates now are seventy
If not a little more
Have done a lot since high school
Long ago in sixty-four
Don't move as quickly or think as fast
As we did back in the day
Hope the paths we took to get here
Gave happiness along the way
Directions taken numerous
As many as our class
We've left our fingerprints on time
And still have some to pass
Some have left; are early gone
Our memories see their faces
Thoughts still linger of them
And how they ran their races
Be grateful as you read this
That you have more race to run
It's time to slow the tempo
And concentrate on having fun
Categories:
schoolmates, life, school,
Form:
Rhyme
In the olden days
My mother only took one photo for me
As a new born with the family members
My childhood gone plain without photos
When I got my 1st salary
I bought a camera
To take photos wherever I go
With my family
Schoolmates
Friends
Colleagues
Now When I open the photo album
Sad memories pour in
My parents gone
Some family members gone
Some of the colleagues gone
Some of the old classmates gone
Time betrays us
Some sweet memories left us
Fate seldom compromises
With dreams
And great expectations
But behind the sadness
Love will linger on
With the once happiest moments
Never dies
Now I use handphone to snapshot
The happiest moments
With all my loved ones
Sharp,quick and easy
Love and happiness
Will linger on and on
Never fade
Categories:
schoolmates, family, fate, happiness, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Haiku
A boy goes to school?
And tears his schoolmates apart?
With metal piercing bullets?
This is normal now.
Igor Goldkind
Categories:
schoolmates, boy, class, crazy, cry,
Form:
Haiku
I received a gift in the mail today
Twas an old tattered box, mailed from mother
It was my Dad's wallet and pocket knife
The wallet contained clippings and photos
Clippings from local Chicago papers
They reported a man's untimely death
The old rusted knife was from his pocket
Used for cleaning the nails of hard worked hands
I have faded memories of him now
He worked in the stone quarries of Chitown
The photos were of my sister and me
School pictures of us both, when we were young
I have thought of the day my father fell
Over the years, on many sleepless nights
What was he thinking on the long way down
Did he know this was the end of his life
Was he thinking of sis and me just then
Did he wonder what would become of Mom
I remember one of the clippings well
I saw many like it neatly sissored out
They blew around the windy school yard grounds
My schoolmates had clipped them for show and tell
After the funeral, during recess
I found them there, discarded in the dirt.
On that day, returning from school for lunch
We found our Mother crying on the phone
Our world changed forever when that knife fell
I placed the items in my music room
They sit in the corner of my mind's eye
Tokens of what might have been, long ago
Author notes:
"I learned of my Father's death one fine fall day, when I returned home from
school for lunch. My mother was on the phone crying. Later, after my father's
funeral, I returned to school to find clippings blowing around on the school
grounds. They were all about my father. The students had cut them out for show
and tell, and later discarded them on the school grounds."
Categories:
schoolmates, death, life, loss, social,
Form:
Free verse
A small dinosaur named Dean'o O'Daniel
was a special one,
who grew up near the Florida panhandle
and the only son
To his single mother Sam O'Daniel
See Dean'o had a love
to where he could escape and drift away
to another place
and play a simple game of basketball
Schoolmates would just laugh
As he walked with a ball under his arm
to his every class
Saying "Dean'o's not a real dinosaur"
Especially when
They found out he was not a carnivore
So he did not hunt
and for all this little Dean'o was shunned
Dean'o had enough
He went out to a quiet place alone
and said to himself
"Why am I the only one who is small,
not eat any meat,
And always love to play some basketball?"
"I just want my dad
and feel normal and just fit in with all"
As he shed a tear
A deep soft voice appeared to him and said
" Dean'o dont you know,
That so many good times lie right ahead?
I know you feel low
and right now nothing really makes much sense
But I promise you
That all this hurt and confusion will end."
"And please tell me why,
You want to be normal or like the rest?"
Shocked, Dean'o replied,
" Because I simply have no confidence."
The deep voice then said
" You're short height gives you a feisty toughness,
no meat keeps you pure
and the love for basketball only means
you are passionate."
Categories:
schoolmates, adventure, angst, dad, growing
Form:
Lyric