Long Frat Poems
Long Frat Poems. Below are the most popular long Frat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frat poems by poem length and keyword.
We’re frantically typing to finish our assignments
and end our Friday night homework confinement.
Chella wants to go to a frat-house soirée
I went to a few of those back in the day.
No more frat parties, I once emphatically said.
I make rules for myself, usually based on emotion
but once I calm down, rules are made to be broken,
and it’s good, I suppose, to stay in touch with the kids
Chella does this a lot, finds a trendy hot spot,
and drags me along, enthusiastically or not.
She’ll attempt, and fail, to do a Keg stand.
That’s ok, we’re not athletes, I understand.
We’re just having fun with it, hitting a beat good,
fugitives from the rough passage to adulthood
We feel like old ladies now - it's hilarious.
.
.
Mini playlist for this:
Pon de Replay by Rihanna
Little Things x Gypsy Woman (L BEATS MASHUP) by Jorja Smith
Can't Feel My Face by The Weeknd
Summertime by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince
More Than A Woman (SG's Paradise Edit) by Bee Gees & SG Lewis
.
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*I’ve got a Will Smith track here, I’m ashamed of how much I love his early
Fresh Prince rap years - but on the real - OJ was ‘the juice’ before he was OJ,
Michael wasn’t always hyperbaric and Will Smith pretended he wasn’t the
wifedup jesus pretenda he revealed himself to be.
.
slang..
wifedup = pu$$y-whipped
jesus = nice guy
pretenda = pretender
.
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*We feel like old ladies because
(1) these frat boys are just lowly undergraduates and we’re master’s candidates which is vastly, vastly better. and
(2) we're Yale graduates, which is vastly, vastly better than being Harvard graduates (in our opinion).
(*This piece may have a limited audience - but don’t ALL my pieces??*)
Some of the best advice from my Fro-Co (seniors who volunteer as freshman advisors):
If you’re stuck in your room (due to the pandemic) open the windows.
Exercise every day - outside if you can (pandemic).
YOU, ain’t ALL THAT. Get used to it - maybe you were hot-crap in high school - but not HERE. You got a 1590 SAT and a 34 ACT score?
Congratulations, you’re one of the average students.
Never, ever, EVER miss a class (as a freshmen).
Visualize your morning the night before and GET UP EARLY.
Time management - TIME MANAGEMENT - TIME MANAGEMENT
Complete assignments as soon as you can.
You’re going to have 4 to 6 hours of homework every night - STUDY
Procrastination will kill you - STUDY
Go to events - be social - but leave early. “Popularity” isn’t important here - this isn’t high school.
Don’t expect to meet besties right away.
Don’t go to frat parties alone.
Hookup culture can be toxic.
Don’t date seniors - just don’t.
Never get a razor cut, your ends will split.
The college kids were gathered around
Listening to the latest stereophonic sounds
Speakers booming their tunes and melodies
Beatles, Stones, Hendrix, Doors and Bee Gees
Sweet scent of cheap hemp filled the air
It was Friday night, nobody cared
'bout quizzes, tests, exams or papers
The night was young: time for drug-fueled capers
Where to go? What to do? Gotta move! Gotta be--
Where the action is! Where it's happenin,' man!
On the prowl for a quickie, for a one-night stand
At anonymous bars, dens of debauchery
They moved in packs of conformist thought
Jocks or thespians, wimps or nerds
Frat-boys or hippies -- bearded, hirsute, absurd --
Stoned or drunk, immorality they sought
When in walked a man who silenced that den
Five stripes on his sleeve, a steel slab for a chin
He stared hard at them; they shrank from him
A general's general, on loan from Vietnam
He smelled the cheap hemp and the two-bit beer
Muttered an imprecation: "I'm out of here."
Then he pointed at those trembling college pickins:
"You're as weak as kittens, as yellow as chickens ...
If you want to grow up; if real men you'd like to be
~ Come fight for your country in the jungles of 'Nam with me."
Are you a football fan?
Are you into BIG TIME college football, where my
home town, Georgia Bulldogs are defending, two-time
national champions? Their season began last week
or maybe you’re an NFL fan (they start playing this week).
Ivy league college football starts next week and if you're
not excited about it, maybe you don’t understand it.
Before games there are parties with pizza and chicken wings.
Do NOT go to a frat house on a game day - just don’t.
If you’re going to throw a college football game
you’ll need two teams of players in safety uniforms
and at least one football (that’s what they fight over).
You need a crowd - two crowds really - and a stadium
where everyone could, in theory, sit. There should be
flags, banners, hats and jerseys in riotous team colors.
You’ll need two marching bands and school mascots.
A bulldog will do (Yale), or if you can’t afford that, you could
dress someone up as a huge-headed pilgrim (Harvard).
Of course, as with any big sporting event you’ll need skimpily
dressed girls to toss in the air and assorted food and drink to sell.
There will be lots and lots of cars, and police and ambulances
standing by in case it’s all too much or someone gets hurt.
Cheerleaders are there to whip the crowd into a vocal frenzy,
soon everyone’s yelling things like “DE-fense,” “push em back,”
“Harvard sucks” and “No, really, Harvard sucks.”
The ideal game should include a bitter rivalry like Yale vs Harvard.
While everyone knows Yale is better academically, there’s a small
chance that Harvard could win the game - which makes it scary.
We won last year and we’ll play them again this year, in November.
Anyway, whatever flavor of football you like:
It’s football season people!
.
.
I'm NOT a cheerleader. We knew where they practice, and a girl was nice enough to let me use her pompoms for some snaps.
Calamities…
assaulted by the Memorial Day tsunami
drowned victims & floating cars--
appendix detonates during the Season of Hell
haplessly hospitalized in the UT-Austin medical zoo
Delusion of progress…
recovering in the mobile home
plodding through texts of
postmodern pointlessness--
overcome with visions of nuclear annihilation
Life is a plunge…
sensory overload & self-deconstruction--
reading "One Hundred Years of Solitude"
pondering Camus’ only philosophical question
does Jung have the answer?
Re-entry into the (ir)real world…
Labor Day blues & academic angst
surrounded by yi(u)ppies--
mesmerized by Eastern philosophy
crushed by existential dread
The Being & Nothingness of Texas...
The Longhorns won/lost The Game
primal braying & primitive reveling
avoiding the orange phallic madness
evading beer bottles hurled by frat boys
Monstrous cockroaches inherit the Earth…
discombobulated by the sadistic heat
I ram my fist into a case of Lone Star
“The horror, the horror” as Kurtz opined
can I still resurrect myself?
Five packed together in one car…
a circuitous journey to South Padre Island
silent white sand & red star suspended over the Gulf
hypnotic waves & harsh words in the condo
the Odyssey is (in)complete(d)
89.
My 18th Leaf
Culled thee from waist height
Quaint ornamental
A type of hard grass
Some Japanese breed
Pretty “dwarf bamboo”
CapSU-Dumarao
Arancillo land
So their property
Their worker planted
It's a décor there
Third day January
Third day Twenty Twelve
Third Day of the Year
Of Water Dragon
About 4 PM
Eighth bundle of same plant
Row from TED Building
Along the path way
Side where there frat huts
Arrayed in neat line
First TED afternoon
Of this year to home
While alone walking
Under fine sunset
Bye bye for now TED!
-01/03/2012
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
My fountain pen found its way,
onto the internet,
it was a transformative process,
for both ink and blood.
There were thousands before me,
many talking in a strange language,
of signs, signals, and digital squiggles,
a code I had to break.
The nib of my pen broke
its golden crown.
My fingertip's had to study
how to not blunder,
like a bull elephant
into a wide-open frat house.
Slapping words down
onto this new plastic virtuality
I crashed through,
pages of self-deleting paper,
struggling to compute
the mysteries of 'write' and 'send'.
Daily I had to deal with this,
almost psychotic urge
to shove my thoughts onto
a seemingly infinite white wall,
hoping I was not,
just going to splash stuff on it,
only to run away.
"...when power corrupts, poetry cleanses."
--John F. Kennedy
A frat asked, will you ever forgive her?
Come! The house has a toast for you tonight!
Now forget—this is not the way you were!
Let’s walk frat, tomorrow will be alright!
Let her go and have her own way each day;
Cleanse the taint with an aromatic bath
Let done be done forever—God molds the clay;
Come! Stand with us—let Him show you the path.
When entreated with her loveliest lies
Spread your wings to the sky with open ears;
Brittle vows and fragile oaths always die
Shallow days, months, years they too disappear.
Upon the rising sun—look to the East,
A royal feast, my frat—that’s the least!
~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~
© Joseph, October 22, 2008
© All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~
Actual title below, but I guess this database isn't ()-friendly
(Love)
I remember when I was thirteen,
And I met this girl Nicole,
And I thought I was in love.
My buddies asked me how did I know,
I replied,
She's such a fox,
She's got a great ass,
And she writes me notes in class,
We rolled together during couples' skate,
I walked her home, held her books,
God, I loved her looks.
I remember when I was seventeen,
And I met this girl Linda,
And I thought I was in love.
My clique asked me how did I know,
I replied,
She's such a beauty,
She's won't play dead,
And she won't throw me out of bed,
We drive around from beach to beach,
I drive her home, to see what's next,
God, I loved the sex.
I remember when I was twenty-one,
And I met this girl Livi,
And I thought I was in love.
My frat bros asked me how did I know,
I replied,
She's cute,
She's showers me,
And she calls me all day until 3,
We commute in order to satisfy needs,
I phone her home, and she seems pleased,
God, I loved the skiis.
I remember when I was twenty-four,
And I met this woman Lisa,
And I thought I was in love.
My friends asked me how did I know,
I replied,
She's magnificent,
She inspires me,
And I feel her deep inside of me,
We think and banter in parallel jest,
I set aside at times what I must feel,
In order for our paths to congeal.
(3/9/91)
When the team was supposed to be resting for the next game in the Regional Championships. We rented e scooters to make our trip worth it
The feeling of the torn off handle bar slamming against my palm as I jump the curb with a 30lbs hunk of metal.
Two wheeled vehicles becoming the staple of our extracurricular endeavors.
Some afternoons we even got our assistant coach to go on rides with us incase we ever needed an alibi down the road
Boba and Smoothie shops were his go to.
Until our starting midfielder tried to do a wheelie with our acai bowls losing two in the process
When we were supposed to be resting for the next game in the National Championship
One night we while trying to network ourselves to colleges we ended up at a Boise State dorm
Trying to explain to local students that we couldn't join them in going to the frat next door was very challenging at the time
In the early morning we went on a joyride to eventually be chased by local security guards after passing them at an unreasonable speed
Bangin up our starting defenders knee in the process
The night after winning said tournament
We went to the market to get snacks
Only to decide to host a poker tournament in of our hotel rooms with the team nextdoor
Lets just say the night ended with more I owe you’s than big winners