On Saturday the college game is played
And on my couch is where I shall be laid
When I recalled my college days
spent mainly in a drunken haze
Invariably I’d wonder why
job posts read ~ ‘Degree required’
My friend most beautiful
sat shoulder to shoulder with me
after the lights went low
and the show began.
We took in ballad after ballad
the tender voice hour after hour
and a spell was cast.
The song of Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
spoke to me— I could almost cry.
I glanced at her
and she looked straight ahead.
This was the night I wanted for months
although we had some casual dates
o the times when I pleaded for more
but tonight she was so tender
when I put my arm around her shoulder.
I knew the night was good for her
when we stepped out the elevator
onto her dormitory floor
and the music resonated in my mind.
The taste of her kiss was so sweet
on that special night.
She must have known
it was our last.
The machine lit up
like a small cathedral—
chrome saints hopping
under glass,
the silver gospel
of the pinball
spinning wild
between my hands.
It was my birthday—
twenty-one—
and free beers
rang up like prayers.
Each flipper slap
a hallelujah,
each tilt shrugged off
in neon glare.
The hours blew away
like cheap confetti.
The undulating sidewalk
tilted just before I did,
and the keyhole
danced just out of reach
while my cat waited,
unimpressed.
I woke up hours later
to my worried cat
meowing and
looking up at me.
I leaned in close
to reassure him—
and showered his head
with vomit, dismayed.
He left his verdict
in my shoes—
a damp reminder,
sharp and clear.
Tail high,
he walked away avenged,
his conscience
undisturbed by guilt.
He eventually
forgave me—
as creatures wiser
than us often do.
I cleaned my shoes,
drank far less beer,
and never puked on
my cat again.
It was only a sprig
of red berries poking through
a mantle of snow.
But something in their quiet defiance—
so small, so sure, so bold—
stopped me in rushing mid-stride,
as if beauty had broken
some sealed place inside me,
and light, unbidden,
had found a way in.
The world went quiet around me
except for the whispered ticking
of snow melting on my coat.
The berries didn’t beckon—
they simply serenely endured,
like a secret held in plain sight.
I didn’t kneel, but my heart did
and time loosened for a moment.
The air was full of watching.
Even the light seemed to listen.
My class had already started
and the prof raised his eyebrows at me,
so I told him about the berries—
he shot me a skeptical look,
but that didn’t matter a bit.
Some moments don’t explain themselves,
they speak in silence anyway.
I sat in the back smiling,
still picturing the berries
long after the lecture began.
I’ve moved out (of school),
I’m moving in (to school).
My joke is that I’m having a ‘moving experience.’
Graduating college (3 days ago) was a dream come true
I’m starting a master’s degree in 7 days.
You have to admire the efficiency.
Do I have your permission to bear my soul?
I might have imposter syndrome.
I’m a harsh critic—of everything—but mostly me.
I’m over the romance and pressure of school.
I’m starting the romance and pressure of school.
Don’t worry, this isn’t hapless, sad girl literature.
Or a diary—it’s a portrayal of my inner life.
.
.
Songs for this:
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
Messy by Lola Young [E]
The dusk slips down in lilac swells,
And I am caught in dreams again—
Of girls with velvet, painted eyes,
Their lashes dipped in midnight rain.
Their lips are full, like fruit at dusk,
So ripe the moon forgets to rise,
And every breath a muted hymn
That trembles through the tender skies.
I ache to touch their tilted chins,
To feel the hush where longing grows,
The place where silence wears perfume,
And every pulse of wonder knows.
They press against the world too sweet—
Too soft for thorns, too quick to bruise.
Yet still they bloom with pointed grace,
Like lilacs pierced by morning’s shoes.
O God, the ache that beauty leaves.
These are my early poems, or juvenilia.
Analogy
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 19
Our embrace is like a forest
lying blanketed in snow;
you, the lily, are enchanted
by each shiver trembling through;
I, the snowfall, cling in earnest
as I press so close to you.
You dream that you now are sheltered;
I dream that I may break through.
Published by Borderless Journal (Singapore)
Keywords/Tags: Early poems, juvenilia, college, analogy, embrace, forest, snow, lily, dream
What do I do?
Where do I go?
Will there ever be a day
When I'm certain of what I know?
I compare myself to others far too easily
Hoping to become a person I'm never meant to be
Does anyone else mourn the death of childhood
Just as much as I?
Or stand alone in winter's chill
And admire the starry sky?
Sentimentalism haunts me- it's a blessing and a curse
Forcing me to accept Change- for better or for worse
Where do I belong?
Why was I made?
Will these questions be answered
Before my youthful fade?
M MOTIVATE
E EXCEL
D DETERMINED
G GRATIFICATION
A ACADEMICS
R REFRESH
E EXCELLENCE
V VICTORIOUS
E ESTABLISH
R RESUME
S SUCCEED
C COLLABORATION
O OPPORTUNITY
L LEADERSHIP
L LEVERAGE
E EDUCATION
G GREATNESS
E EFFORT
I do not have a smidgeon of an idea
Speaker is my teenage granddaughter Rhea
I thought you were a senior in college, I say.
She nods her head, agreeing straight away.
Don’t you have to declare a major before senior year?
If I knew you would hound me, I would not have come here.
Seriously, Rhea, what is your major? I ask, trying to sound kind.
“I think I will be queen of the internet; I have that sort of mind.”
The electoral college for President I say
Forget the humans
The electoral college is the real hero
Always making sure that many of our votes never count
What a treasure
A national phenomenon
That has ruined most of our lives
One non-vote at a time
In Landmark College's hallowed city,
Knowledge flourishes with simplicity,
Learners absorb with eager facility,
Blended curriculum, a harmonious unity.
Teachers sympathetic, empathetic in duality,
Guide learners with compassion's clarity,
Vast in trends, educational advancement's reality,
Conducive environment, a learner's serenity.
Modern facilities, equipment in totality,
Sporting complex, a wonder in locality,
Emotional, physiological, spiritual, cognitive, physicality,
Wellbeing's holistic approach, a noble integrity.
Day and boarding options, flexibility's liberty,
Pastoral parents, a nurturing community,
Full boarding facilities, a home away from home's security,
Landmark College's care, a promise of tenacity.
Academic excellence, integrity, honesty's sincerity,
Mutual respect, hardworking, a moral clarity,
Little wonders thrive, lunch provided with generosity,
Landmark College's slogan, a promise of fidelity.
Join us in Ikorodu, Lagos, a city of opportunity,
Pick a form, and let your child's future be our priority,
Total wellbeing, our concern, a promise of fidelity,
Landmark College, where learners flourish with agility.
I don't remember what I did, it's true,
the day before I fell in love with you.
I guess I might've been attending Shakespeare class
lamenting with Professor Pendergrass
the fate of Juliet Capulet and Romeo Montague.
Written by Gail Debole
November 26, 2024
Adding "ing" to nouns has taken over the town.
English Traditionalists - turn your frowns upside down.
"Being an adult" is now one word.
We are all "adulting" or haven't you heard?
So I guess the next noun to be "verbed"
Is that a child is "childing" or is that absurd?
All languages evolve through the years.
Face the facts. Get over your fears.
Nothing you can do to stop the "ings."
"Verb-ing" the nouns is more than a fling.
Younger generations speak their own type of speak.
Older generations try to keep up so they do not look weak.
No one person controls the words we say.
New ones arise and old ones lose sway.
Now all the nouns can be "verb-ed" or "e-d-ed."
Language creativity cannot/should not (shouldnot?) be impeded.
And, in the future, how many words will survive?
Will acronyms and emojis be the language that thrives?
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