Should we forget about freedoms.?? And accept some
Pre-doms? Like a pre-bunking' so childlike and clunking.'
Breaking structure much nomen-less clutter..' A nonsense of
Pre-sense..' showing credentials quite useless.' Artificial
Utopia advertizing a visionary myopia.' Its peonies and
Pretzels to supplement 'word salad' utensils.?? With Kids flying
Killer drones..' we must emerge from this twilight zone.!
It is time,
To teach children about consequences in schools,
If we want to give students the tools,
To avoid a life of crime.
When the children come home from their schools,
With their new set of tools,
They might have time,
To teach their parents to think twice about their life of crime.
It is just a shame that parents who had the time,
But were using the wrong tools,
Which were supplied when they were bunking from their schools,
That gave them no consequences for a life of crime.
I could find my child, who's a butterfly lover,
Often bunking school granting many a reason;
Knowing her mad love, over the air to hover,
I allowed her to continue with no treason...
Having decided to find the reason from her
When, finally, persuaded her to open up;
Observing sage-like silence and eyes with no blur,
She blushed as though there's a tempest in her teacup...
Pleasing, easing, teasing, tiring, tempting, mocking,
Persuading, convincing, coercing, smooth-talking;
Silver-tongued sweet words on her slowly showering,
Ultimately, she spoke up as though rock-shocking...
Does schooling teach one to fly like a butterfly?
Does butterfly, in a school, ever long-time lie?
05 July 2021
Contemporary Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charlotte Puddifoot
Brassy Barry’s boastful bumbling Brana Bull
Badgered Billy’s bashful buffoonish Baboon
Into baking a boisterous Blackberry Bisque
Beyond bunking, Barry’s brave babysitter
boldly bellowed brashly.
Bonafide bamboozlement boasted Brana Bull’s bed buddies.
Beyond bothersome boneheads, Billy Baboon’s buzzards bawled
Baboon’s beautiful baked bonne bouch betwixed buddies and beasts
beautifully, bumping boastful Brassy Barry’s beliefs, which bumbled
on beyond the brink of believability boulder.
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...
If I remember this correctly
I was about 15
At school in Cambridge
Bunking off
Watching BBC 2
And Depeche Mode 101 was on T.V
Never really been interested in Music
Never bought a record
Sport was my thing
But watched in awe
Never let me down again
Live at the Pasadena Rose Bowl
Gothic is the best way I could describe it
A spontaneous wave broke out
The hair's on my neck and goosebumps broke out
When it finished
I got on my bike
And rode to St Ives to buy the Album
I got to see them live 20 year's later
A dream fulfilled
And it never disappointed
Better than I could have imagined
Better live than on record
A timeless memory
That stood the test of time
Is mine forevermore
That never grows old
101 Live
Depeche Mode
Never let me down again
P Post-truths are words designed to mislead us
O Obviously, yet "facts" that are appealing.
S Some are political; some petty; why fuss?
T Talking points survive, despite de-bunking.
T Time has come to bid post-truth a goodbye;
R Right thinking minus intent is old as dirt.
U Under devilish distortion, the author of lies.
T "Truth is absolute," our Creator sighs.
H He knew about word play before Eve ever heard,
S "Surely God did not mean you would die."
written Dec. 17, 2016
The nineteen 80's
Early eighties was my sweet teens,
as I could see every thing in greens,
College canteen and vegetable patties,
Oh my youthful eighties !
Remember those days of bunking classes,
late night parties and clinking of glasses,
Old movies and handsome heroes,
Exam days and highly probable zeroes,
Writing letters was then an art,
No mobiles, postages also not that smart,
Interactions and lot of clinical acumen,
Computer machines were beyond imagine,
Lots of time for pondering and retrospection,
Busy now the life is, not even introspection ??
Written March 7th, 2015
For contest "Decades" by Kelly Deschler
army, bunking buds
good days, drowning deep before my eyes
never to sleep a sleepless night again
God resting every sobbing soul,
His head up high,
like a horseshoe hanging low,
I remain, lucky!
falling wounds, under my dearest darkest days
no where to go and hide
Death will find me soon,
gone are those carefree days,
gone are those wild days where never bothered about the consequences,
had a care free attitude,
time has come to say good bye to my last year,
as i enter the college i felt have suddenly grown up
i have a responsibilty now,
gone are those exams,vivas, long journal completion and
bunking lectures
no more discussion with professors, no more asking them and irritating them with several questions,
no more college fests, no more fun,
less canteen visits now as all freinds will be separated,
now comes life's daily exam, handling patients life,
taking their responsibility, guiding them with honesty,
knowing everything, everyday will be a new exam, new day to learn...
thankfully, graduation day yet to come, but its not so far though, all these things will be
memories,
then lifes difficult exam will start, no one to guide, out there on your own..
prepared for it, but will miss those beautiful life.
The first line my father drew
And all my freedom threw
No going out after eight
Or there’ll be a lock on the gate
My teacher drew the second line
Bunking college is not fine
Algebra and geometry are a must
Do not let your books go to dust
The third line was drawn by my hubby
Who thought I was very chubby
A diet I must go on
And sip lemon juice on the lawn
Line number four was drawn by me
I felt no right to be free
Free to pursue my dream
Of making chocolate and cream
And then it dawned on me
That my life cannot be
Drawn around these lines
And am free to taste life’s wines