Altho' I didn't study for my Rorschach test
when the proctor a doctor a shrink
evaluating my perception in search of insight
to discover what I might really think
handed me ten pictures on a card
I took a long hard look
then knew exactly what I did see
and did not blot my copybook
as often what you're gazing at
is simply (on the dot) precisely that
so it was not difficult at all
personally from where I sat
to pass with flying colours
and unravel this Gordian Knot
it wasn't a butterfly moth or bat
sometimes an inkblot is just an inkblot
Categories:
copybook, fun, humorous, psychological, silly,
Form: Rhyme
There, my home
There, where good never comes within bull's roar of eer
There, where penurious rule the penury
There, my home
Where hazy are hopes and aspirations
Extort common men for piles of gold.
What a great leader! Please keep it up
Lo! Blotted copybook with corruption
Oh! Lord of karma
Shade is now on our beam ends!
The earth has swallowed and digest the good
Today, all heads above stinks
Indeed, they are pure
Words are more eloquent than silence!
For tomorrow holds cloudy sky
We need more voice to win!
To pull up one's socks on damnation
Our needs calls for strong constitution
Which extinguish the fire of starvation
And also stands as protection
For us and them the future generation
Categories:
copybook, africa, anger, corruption, freedom,
Form: Political Verse
Nobody knows everything
Not even a few
I find consolation in this
I hope you do too.
Some people are smart
In dress and retort
But could not compare
With lawyers at court
Others accept
They have limitations
And seldom aspire
To rise above their station.
Then there are those
With their heads in books
Who keep on their toes
With superior looks
Bespectacled people
Are assumed to be clever
They rarely blot their copybook
If ever.
Wild haired professors
Covered in chalk
They put on the pressure
Whenever they talk.
You may think you're clever
If only you knew
There is always someone
More clever than you
22 October, 2020
Categories:
copybook, 10th grade,
Form: Rhyme
To Blot one's Copybook
A phrase that is now outdated
Then people used pen and ink to scribe
So words could be translated
In bygone days work was performed
With care and deliberation
To blot one's copybook
Was cause for consternation
It took your pride away
When you took a worried look
All you saw was the blot
That jumped out of the page
The longer you stared at it
The stronger your rage
You thought the page was ruined
And something pure had died
You had failed to notice
The perfection around the sides
Categories:
copybook, 10th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Let I'm a piece of sheet, so be it,
The scrap of yours, the scrap of them,
I have no pity (I don't need it)
for past, I burnt I loved I ran
my soul (and it was very silly)
to playful eyes of yours, and bounce
my brig has wrecked, there was no feeling
since this time. Oh, there was no us!
Yes, I'm a piece of sheet, I'm tired
to stand my suffering (it's fine)
so long so hopeless in quiet riot
I trust new copybook with time
accept me in its embrace newly
in spite of evil and my woes,
My wings will lift me up, they truly
big, they are gorgeous, of course.
Let I was good in my confessions,
No, I'm not piece of sheet at all,
Oh, I was written with my passions,
But I am clean now, and my soul
is open, I'm not scared of falling,
My wings are lightly in the hight,
New hand will touch clean sheet with morning,
New copybook will frame my flight.
Categories:
copybook, emotions, feelings, hope, how
Form: Lyric
I was scolding you
You were a 4-year-old
sitting in a big chair
at the dining room table
hunched over your copybook
the pencil in your hand
held straight, halting, looking lost
as you dragged the tip across the page
that has turned into a minefield
because one more misstep
another dot out of place
would set off a new explosion
projectiles masquerading as words
from the mouth of the preoccupied father
sitting next to you
not wanting to be sitting next to you
begrudging the time
Then I saw it
onto a blank spot on the page
a solitary teardrop lands
as if in slow motion
splatters
spreads
a translucent bloodstain on gauze
I don’t know if you remember it.
I certainly do.
Will.
Categories:
copybook, boy, child, cry, father
Form: Free verse