Long Dorms Poems
Long Dorms Poems. Below are the most popular long Dorms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dorms poems by poem length and keyword.
Saturday nights I remember
were bad in September
even worse in November
On campus, roving mobs and gangs
looking for girls to get drunk and then bang
In dorms, wise fools dropping LSD
screaming, trying to deal with reality
Frat boys throwing furniture through window glass
Mooning, blowing farts, and lighting the gas...
College days: The 'best years of my life' these hardly were
~ On my generation and me, an ineradicable slur
Just in case you're wondering:
I attended Dartmouth College
in 'Hangover, NH' from 1968 -
1972... 6 years later, 'Animal
House' was filmed there, not
surprisingly.
I love all.
Stand tall.
Don't fall.
Answer His call.
All should call on Him.
Our lights will never dim.
As long as we win.
Lose with victory from deep within.
As long as we're having a blast.
Hearts will be mended - this is not the end.
All should have hope.
Poems don't have to rhyme or have a certain "style" that's "normal" to the readers - weird is the new norm...so get it together in your dorms and keep warm.
Write with your might.
Fight the grand fight.
Don't shout.
Be quiet no doubt.
Don't pout and about.
We are on
God's route
Till the dawn
Draws out...........
I challenge you all...
To stand, not fall...
Answer your call...
Call it faith and all.
Getting tossed to and fro like a ball?
Don't slam your fist against the wall...
Just...listen...
Be patient through it all.
Your auras will glisten
If your eyes, with all their might, watch as miracles in disguise break free the truth behind it all. Calm down, y'all!
See for yourselves...
We are not dorky elves...
We are Giants of Greatness
Dismiss the aftershocks of distress...
We will clean up the mess we've made
Without making it look like a volunteer job that never gets us paid
Then again...
Be grateful...thankful...merciful...merriful...don't give us no bull.
Be of mighty women and men...
Stand as one - may our cups be ever full...we just act cool.
Hang up the phone.
Of "awfully" alone.
Know this once and for all.
We aren't alone, for we stand tall.
Do us a great favor -
Love one another, even foes from under or above.
What about we savor...
The moment of what we are made of.
Students at Columbia
Are smart and also deft,
Yet someone’s figured out their scheme,
Which is a form of theft.
They aren’t robbing banks or stores
Or stealing from the dorms,
But something’s disappearing,
Likely carted off in swarms.
I’m talking ‘bout Nutella!
It’s a chocolate, nutty spread –
The perfect yummy nourishment
To slather on some bread.
It’s also quite delicious
From the jar onto a spoon.
With loads of it in the café,
Temptation’s opportune.
But now the secret’s out and so
The stuff may disappear.
The Ivy Leaguers may need other
Substances to smear.
The weirdest thing to me is that
This story made the news.
Nutella theft must be among
The campus’s taboos.
A parent would be reassured
While on a college tour
To hear the biggest crime was
A Nutella saboteur.
Sometimes, one must say goodbye
to a true love, by and by,
and, so it seems, today's the day
I had to throw my true love away.
Perhaps you may think it strange
that the one I love is my cassette tape collection,
but consider -
she's been with me since high school,
growing with me, sharing good times and bad.
Like me, she's grown old and no longer useful.
She's just taking up space.
I must admit, I can't play her anymore.
So, one by one, I separated
the cassettes,
the plastic cases,
and the handwritten playlists.
I'll keep those playlists of carefully selected songs,
marking the milestones of my life, as keepsakes -
tenth grade, when young love consumed me,
Only Love Can Break Your Heart,
eighteen, when I went out on my own,
and pirated Al's record collection,
Hobo's Lullaby and Foreign Affairs by Tom Waits,
then to college and the dorms
old psychedelic records from San Francisco
Fresh Air, What About Me?
Dean's folk music records,
Joan Baez and the Child Ballads,
Barbara Ellen,
Johnny Cash's Christmas Album, The Christmas Spirit -
Johnny's recitation of The Ballad of the Harp Weaver
by Edna St. Vincent MiIlay.
My wife even liked some of those songs -
and then all the children's albums,
folk albums,
and children's folk albums -
Ol' Bangum,
that I'd played for my son.
Wouldn't you know, he developed his own taste in music.
Tapes copied from friends, libraries, radio shows,
too numerous to count.
I can remember all the songs, but not all the sources.
I'm amazed at how many songs
composed the soundtrack of my life.
Sometimes, one must say goodbye
to a true love, by and by,
and, so it seems, today's the day
I had to throw my true love away.
How often someone changes sheets
Is really not discussed.
It’s certain, though, that everybody
Does so, as we must.
I knew a woman once whose bed
Had fresh sheets every day.
Obsessive? Yes, but she preferred
To do things her own way.
In college dorms, the bedding might
Remain in place all term.
Imagine all the multitudes of
Every type of germ!
I once was told of dinner parties
Where the food was spread,
Instead of on a cloth, upon
The sheet from someone’s bed.
Most people likely make the switch
On laundry day each week,
So sheets may well be wrinkled
But it’s doubtful that they’ll reek.
No matter when you swap the sheets,
It’s really up to you,
As long as whom you’re sleeping with
Approves of when you do.
Tomorrow is Our Taxing Day
By Franklin Price
4/14/2016
Tomorrow is our taxing day
The IRS will have its way
Unless you've filed or did extend
They'll stick it to you at the end
To get a refund you must trust
Deductions were not formed from dust
For smoke and mirrors with the forms
Could get you cells not college dorms
Do not tempt the audit man
Of cheaters he is not a fan
If all your figures not in line
Expect at least sufficient fine
You may find you have to pay
More than you gave from day to day
Write the check and see it's sent
To pay the Senate, House and President.
So Writes
Rubbia De Musica
----------------------------
Ares and her family were happy. They grow figs and olives. There hog were prized. They fished formonkfish in places near Atlantis. Once while picking figs. Eros ,Phobos, and Nike stopped to eat. They sat next to the tree and began eating there meal. They began to speak of there father."To sleep forever,shall we now be Gods as he is", said Phobos,no spoke Nike, it is forbidden for us to be Gods, yet my beaty and vainest shall make me spoke of in the dorms of sholarly men, and I shall be envied in the Brothals. They laughed and mocked her, and then suddenly a light shined before them, and a voice spoke to them saying" None shall do either!"
They stood frightened and uncertain, did you hear that said Phobos, I only saw a light it was ood said Nike, quieting them as she wish this had not happened. Eros said t"he days were those who wish to love me shall, love me and not fear these foolish Gods who stalk us!" Then a light again shone before them: "then you are a God said the voice" as the light dissappeared. Nike looked fearful and again uncertain saying, "whay do these God's make us fear, who are you might we tell Jupiter?" Then the light reappeared," I am your father who sleeps for eternity" said the voice. Father if thy are sleep how does thy speakest said Eros" I am with thee" One day my consiousness shall speak to your mother and we shall plant an evergreen tree and place doves and silver treads unoon it" why silver threads father?" Might the shine in the night " Then the voice began to fade along with the light saying, "I am with thee all thy day's" Aphrodite told Hacate to stop playing with mortal and leave them to be mortal Hacate then spke but these are my children and they are Gods!" "The Contch shall pay and there mother shall think one way or another but I am there father and they shall have finer things!"
1 tablespoon of cayeene pepper
1/2 cup of olive oil
4 garlic cloves
heat oil add pepper
remove from heat
allow to cool
strain using a coffee filter and strainer
add 4 tablespoons to
1 cup of honey
2 tablespoons of apple cider vinager
1 teaspoon of lemon juice
It is college visit day! I am the adult in charge.
Taking eighteen sixth graders, some rather large.
They get off the bus and try to keep up with me.
I’m the old one, but filled with enduring energy.
We tour the dorms, the campus, the bookstore and such.
They are limping as we climb steps, some very much.
Keep up! I yell, in a happy, exuberant carefree kind of way,
Glad they cannot keep up with me – an old woman who’s gray.
We finally get to the end of our tour, and are shown a video.
They show them how to dress from side to side, head to toe.
Specifically show fuzzy socks and sandals and say this is not the right way.
One points to my feet and yells “Hey! Look at Miss Kay!”
They all look and snicker and laugh and one passes some gas.
I am glad they can have such fun, so I give them a pass.
I am wearing my fuzzy socks and my crocs, a bit of a fool,
But I am not limping as we get on the bus to return to school.
Written 6-28-2011
Contest: Fuzzy socks and crocs
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
The darkness is coming
It’s coming for all of you
You can’t play from it, it will seek you out
The fiends translucent complexion, its skin is so thin
Thin enough that the black liquid within its veins are seeping out
Dripping to the corroded floor, eating straight through
It will sense your trepidation and drag itself and its blade to you
Consume your core and aura till all that’s left is forsaken fear
Wondering the darkness for eternity, becoming one of them
Then you will have maternity of the devil
Evil spewing from his heart, infecting his veins
He is coming for you
Breathing death and thriving on others fear
A walking dead and mere satanic existence
Hungry for human life form
Wandering decaying dorms which once served a purpose
The metal blade screams along the floor boards
Becoming the darkness, its in you
Insane deformed creatures conjured by blasphemer mentality
Wander this town, it’s corridors, walls with blood written notes
Screeching through twisted throats
This small world sitting in constant thick fog
What was once familiar is now stained with devils blood
You had better hide now
It’s coming for you, It’s ready to kill
Welcome to Silent Hill.
Form:
Fear of rejection can come to us all
Feeling alone like facing the wall
All the outside just staring in
If only they could see what is within
Not feeling the spirit from all around
Just want to hide, open up the ground!
Rejection can come in many forms
From playground antics and college dorms
It can even turn up in a relationship
Too change this one shoot from the hip
To tackle rejection do it head on
Find out why and remain strong
Is it emotional or is it social
Both of these are psychological
They can be treated and sorted out
But remain calm try not to shout
Rejection can cause anger and aggression
External and even inward explosion
Don't blame yourself as this you don't need
Find a safe place, breathe slowly or read
A reason for this thought you won't find
It's a receptor buried deep in the mind
Studies say it's from out evolutionary past
They managed, so keep calm have a blast
Emotional pain is hard to ignore
Stay positive and don't become a bore
Pick yourself up and find the light
Then your life will start to be bright
Keep working on the little things
Then you will find what happiness brings