Life College Poems | Examples
These Life College poems are examples of College poems about Life. These are the best examples of College Life poems written by international poets.
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]
Another summer song has come and gone; my tan lines are fading fast
When I walked the dogs this morn I could have sworn, there was frost upon the grass.
The farmer’s field is starting to yield pumpkins big and round,
Golden leaves from the nearby trees are falling to the ground.
I sit on the porch facing north watching school buses drive on past,
I can hardly remember a distant September when they stopped at our house last.
The tire swing is a forgotten thing hanging from the front yard tree,
But that’s okay because soon someday grandchildren will swing on it with me.
I can tell by the coffee smell my wife has come downstairs
There’s no fear she will join me out here due to the crispness in the air.
I gather the dogs and a couple of logs to put a fire on inside
From the fireplace I can see her face and the coquettish smile she tries to hide.
We finish up with the coffee cups with no plans for the coming day
The house turns cool as the fire loses its fuel and she puts the breakfast dishes away.
“I’m going back to bed”, she coyly said, with a twinkle in her eye.
I am an old man, but I still can give it the good ole college try.
They are all about my age.
It feels like they are clones of me, but they smile.
I feel my key in my back pocket.
I step out to pretend to use the bathroom.
I almost leave forever.
But there’s a forcefield on campus.
I only have my backpack.
Which has useless books, nothing for survival.
I walk around, hearing a football being tossed and it bothers me.
I’m still on campus no matter how angry I get.
I’m still enrolled according to their computers.
I’m still wearing a shirt with their mascot.
I always end up escorted back to my dorm by the end of the day.
Sometimes, I’ll pick up dinner from the food court.
Sometimes I don’t want to talk to them.
I need to call my parents this week.
We have an agreement.
I lie about friends and classes.
I stay enrolled.
I stay on this campus, filled with people who hate it here just as much as me.
He climbed to the top of a tall cypress tree
All his fertile countryside world he could see
His father’s fields, neighbor’s houses, and kin folk’s, too
For seventeen years, the only world he knew
College and military brought changes galore
Stretched his knowledge and character even more
In hindsight, realizes how far he has come
From those years on that South Carolina farm
To be localized has rewards and blessings
Gives life a simpler pace though sometimes boring
Keeping close to family, neighbors, and friends
Building memories that linger long within
Yet, far beyond those familiar childhood walls
He found healthy growth in academic halls
Taught to be a man by military aid
Great character builders that will never fade
So much was gained through seminary studies
Treasures that have guided him like a ship’s rudder
Learned to serve others with care and compassion
To be grateful to God for His redemption
This man will never know what life might have been
Had he remained in his country boyhood den
Now, he’s glad and satisfied to have found and gained
More life beyond those dirt fields and cotton gins
Watched the graduation
Of my nephew via Zoom,
Along with many others
From afar, I would assume.
Heard the speeches, saw the march
Of students, one by one
And stuck with it until
The final exit walk was done.
How cool it was to witness
All the graduates receive
A fresh diploma filled with pride
And hope they must believe
Will help them find their path in life.
Whatever lies ahead,
At least they’ll have the memory
Of when their names were read.
1:
One day I'll go to college, but where will I go?
It seems so soon, but will my life move slow?
How do I apply, and show what I know?
Should I make a list of every con and pro?
What school am I above, where I am below?
Do I decide with my friends, who I may outgrow?
Do I go where I want, and follow the flow?
How do I say goodbye, much less hello?
I wish I could see the answer...
where will I go?
Day first at the college
Like day first in the world,
Times we spends while seeing
Or by approaching them by self;
From unknown to become known
We start talking to each other,
As we belongs to different backgrounds
Or having different aim we don't care;
Only thing we gonna care about
Each other smiles in their faces,
We start journey from zero
To be the hero in every eyes one day;
While having this dreams we make those friends in our life
To whom we don't know in our past days......
You’re taking a step into the future,
A new phase in your life is about to begin;
Life won’t be easy, not to start with,
Just remember everyone is feeling the same.
Take your time, settle down,
And you’ll soon find things aren’t so bad.
The pace will be fast and you’ll have to work hard –
But time goes by quickly,
Make the most of your college days
Because all too soon they’re gone -
And you’ll be part of the rat race
Caught up in the system.
.
The windows shimmer in a fit of snow and wind, early in the season,
with a smack of uncertainty. Snow and bitter cold frost the glass like
half of Dad’s old Chess pieces. Through glass we peer dimly as if looking
for a dream.
Playing Chega de Saudade on a dry piano carries authentic tones
of the bitterness which Dr. Denning captured in her account of a
1970s or 80s trip to Russia among Bohemians yearning to hold on
to an unbridled youth and freedom not possible in the West since.
I never read her book but find its contents indelible some 15 years
since taking her class in the early months of 2008. Through the glass
passes fleeting scenes of the past to make the world a little warmer.
Two timelines eventually converge into one, leaving the rubbish behind.
she's kind towards me, she's so nice;
and I'm sincere to her as well,
we are in something more than love,
what are our dreams, it's hard to tell.
and last night, outside college gate
we met and she said she's afraid
about my love and our careers:
dreams price by detachment'll be paid.
retreat is not good for my dreams,
only to get her skin for love:
skin whose pleasures ain't eternal,
eroding derms are all above.
fire and it's works are my int'rest,
I want to be a volcanist;
she wants to increase production
for people, being a botanist.
I've to spend my life in rocks
by watching curves and sediments;
It's hard for me to be with her
checking insects, impediments.
so, we should not be one in life,
she should marry a botanist,
who loves her and her green wheat farms,
for love who's not an arsonist.
love and marriage are not the same,
we'll be in love though not in arms,
whene'er we'll meet aft that in life,
we'll be happy, not without charms!
September 23, 2022
Take it beyond the 'Old College Try'
~ Find a cause for which you would die
A voice inside said,
come, come back
to the place where
my college years
started.
Burnt out
I came back
from college
in Cedar Falls
for the summer
to a familiar place,
and I was reborn.
Six others and I stayed
in the fraternity
working summer jobs.
The quiet bars near campus
and familiar places
echoed memories
of the bustle
of fall and spring semesters.
But now I sought
a sense of peace,
and two geese swam
on Lake Laverne
near the Memorial Union.
The sun reflected on sidewalks
that crisscrossed
the university campus
journeys taken
of myself and others
to discover who we were.
In the midst of classes
and changing measures,
and I found my place,
although I knew
my life would take
me somewhere beyond.
But for now
the voice that said transfer
two years earlier
called me back.
Me and memories
There I stand,
No, not amidst the chaos!!
But by the side of a coffee shop.
I hardly change even as years pass by;
Expressionless, lofty being, I say!
Sipping their coffee or tea
Some tiny creatures encircle me,
Perhaps for my shed and bench to settle;
Still never one way, their convos entertain.
Oh! There I see,
Two birds flying different ways
Will they come back for my sake?
Another cobweb of doubt,
Waiting for wipeout, with their reunion.
Well! That blooming, informal bond
Between the gardener and his plants,
Watering the roots of knowledge;
Strengthen the purpose of my birthplace.
Right, there I stand,
As a still witness to thousands of memories,
Pictures, bonds, built and broken.
The day ends with the hope of much more;
Questioning the longevity of me and memories...
This poem is about a banyan tree in our college...
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Down and puppy low.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Under miles of snow.
We love him, we love him, we want him to be fine,
Want him hanging from his legs inside the sucker's vine.
He's jungle crawling, urban sprawling,
Wedged tween grizzled stone.
The horror high windows, dark doors jackdawed,
Bus-pass rattled bones.
Dance boy dance,
in the carriage of the cage,
Run carnage round the turkey-neck track.
Sing boy sing,
Do as you should be doing,
Climb headless up the cracks of the cash sack.
A new kipper to whip,
New boy to toy with,
A new fellow in town without nowt.
Nowt but his learnings,
Big feels and small earnings,
And a small voice with which he can't shout.
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Got so far to go.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Alone in dark lane, all aglow.
Hangovers are a back-tax on fun.
To paraphrase T.S. Eliot:
"Can last night just belong to last night?”
I’m not thinking about sins and penance
or making any bound-for-failure resolutions.
I’m giving myself a mental health break.