Long Grades Poems
Long Grades Poems. Below are the most popular long Grades by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grades poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s Sunday morning, about 8am. My BF Peter and I we’re doing our laundry. Most of the time, we spent in my dorm common room, sitting side by side on a red corduroy couch, while our clothes washed, and then tumbled away in the dryer.
If you want privacy on a college campus, or to do laundry in peace, avoiding the weekend laundry rush, do it before 10am.
"Why do you wear these," Peter asked, pulling and lightly snapping the hairband on my wrist.
I pull my hand back, protectively. "If I don’t have a hairband on my wrist I feel out of control."
There’s a new me. I’d decided - civilized, unemotional, clear-sighted.
"I've got a lot to do before summer,” Peter said earlier, “so I made a spreadsheet.” I felt a shadow pass over me - our future is, at best, undecided. So, I shifted gears, the way the new me is trying to do lately.
“A Spreadsheet!” I said, like I approved, and he grinned. I’d made him happy. This is what adults do, I’d decided, they have civilized conversations where decisions were made or avoided - but there was a small, dark thing in my heart.
I got a text from our dryer saying our clothes were dry, so we headed down. I love the smell of fresh laundry and the feeling of shaved legs against fresh bed sheets - a luxurious combination no guy will ever understand. I made a mental note to shave my legs later.
The last couple of weeks I’ve been working on summer fellowship applications. A successful summer fellowship is one of those things I’ll need when I apply for med-school - like grades, faculty letters, physician recommendations, community service, a great MCAT score, bla bla bla.
My mom knows the 200 things med-schools use to cleave away pretenders and she’ll rattle them off upon request and sometimes over groaning protests.
What I need, ideally, this summer, are clinical experience hours. There’s not much at stake, just my future, the respect of the faculty, and the begrudging acknowledgement of my pre-med peers. My mom was quizzing me on my progress last night. I confirmed that all the applications were in and I ended with, “I haven’t slept with anyone yet, to gain advantage - but we’re still early in the process.”
She was not amused.
Lisa comes into my room and flops on the bed. The day had been uncompromisingly gray, windy and cold. The night sky was a snowy, blowing darkness, an absolute void that absorbed the campus lights and reflected nothing back. “I’m missing Spring Break,” Lisa she says.
“It doesn’t even seem like Spring Break happened,” I say. “Most Yalies went to Puerto Rico this year, I think, from my sampling.”
“RIGHT?” Lisa said, “EVERYONE says that - we’re in sync. But *I* enjoyed Paris,” Lisa continued, “I liked your family - no - I LOVED your family,” she amends.
“THAT’s a strong take,” I say, chuckling.
“I watched basketball with your uncle (Rémi) and cousins and helped your grandma cook,” she explains, “I felt like a part of your family.”
“Aww,” I say, “You ARE part of my family now - you’re TRAPPED,” and we laughed.
They invented spring break because after several months, the student mind starts to notice a harsh reality - how much their dorm room resembles a cinder-block jail cell - and starts to wonder how a lifetime of study and stress over grades has gotten them no further in life than the average felon.
We’re at lunch. Lisa says, “Ok, what’s new with you?” Keep in mind we see each other ten times a day.
“Well,” I say, I’ve decided that “The Beatles are for spring.” Lisa laughs. “Stop!” I demand, “I’m going deep. Today’s song is Julia,” I say, “It’s John Lennon’s song to his mom who was run over by a car when he was a child.” “I love that song,” Lisa says.
“Ok, what about you?” I ask.
“My song right now is “Move like a Boss,” Lisa says, “When I’m walking across campus, with my air pods on - I’m intense, don’t get in my way - I’m dangerous, I’ll Will Smith you - I scare me.”
“Good to Know,” I say, wishing I’d gotten a lemon brownie.
Then add, “I’ve got this presentation on Monday that I haven’t even had time to *look* at yet. If I don’t get on it by this weekend it’ll be a nuclear-level disaster. I started on it yesterday and the Internet went down for 20 minutes. It was stressful - of course, you don’t know how long the outage is going to be when you’re IN it - and I had THINGS to do - is that convoluted? ”
“No,” Lisa says, nodding in agreement, “losing the Interweb’s traumatic.”
Coach Carter: "Basketball is a privilege." Learning self-respect is a key to being better and achieving more.
Sport makes a huge difference for people around the world, especially our younger generations.
Whatever you choose to do, be a champion in your attitude and behaviour. Hold your head high.
Champions hold their heads high
By Michelle Morris
04/05/2023
Champions hold
Their heads high
Even when
They lose the game
Because they have
Self-respect
And deep down
They know
Their true name
It doesn't matter
What others think
It doesn't matter
What they do or say
Achieving victory
Within
Will always be
The proudest moment
For any man
© Michelle Morris, 2023
The inspirational Ken Carter:
truesportsmovies.com/basketball/coach-ken-carter-richmond-oilers/
The movie Coach Carter is a 2005 film based on the 1998-1999 basketball season of the Richmond High School Oilers in Richmond, California, and the actions of the team’s coach, Ken Carter, to enrich the lives of his players. Carter made national headlines when during an undefeated season he locked out his players from practicing or playing games until they improved their failing grades. Carter’s coaching philosophy, which concentrated on shaping his players as people more than athletes, received praise nationwide but criticism within the community.
LOVE ANGER DEATH AND GUILT
Blog was A young girl who was
Still at school
Everyone loved Blog, she
Was nobody’s fool,
In fact her peers regarded as really cool.
She was determined to learn,
Her mom an alcoholic and her dad
Hooked on drugs,
She was determined to take a stern
Turn in her life, her brother also in jail,
She tried harder and harder, she was
She not going to fail!
She finished school and graduated with
Excellent grades for college,
By now an eighteen year old,
With a surplus of knowledge!
She was popular from the start,
And met a wonderful young man
Brad, who was the love of her life,
Cupid sent an arrow like a dart,
Straight through Blog’s heart!
Within months they became a
Well known item,
They were always together
From Christmas day when
They met, until the
Following Autumn.
But something was troubling Blog,
Brad seemed to be too friendly
With Beverly,
At every
Spare moment that they got,
They were together,
He seemed to be infatuated with
Her a lot!
However,
Brad and Blog were still together
And spoke of becoming engaged,
But one day Blog saw Brad kiss Bev
On the cheek,
At this she became totally outraged!
She had failed an exam, and now this,
What a week!
Blog was going to speak to
Brad that same night,
At her house on a bench outside,
She knew the moon would be bright.
But something dreadful happened
That wasn’t right,
Blog felt an omen, a bad vibe came
Over her, the phone rang, it was Beverly
She just cried and cried,
On his way to Blog, Brad collided
With another car and instantly died!
Blog was devastated, so shocked
Yet not a tear.
She felt guilty that she thought bad
Of Brad,
After his funeral having a cup of tea
With Beverly, Blog understood
Beverly was Brads cousin,
She wanted to get up and flee,
so embarrassed was she,
Now she cried tear after tear!
Brad and I held a secret from you,
Said Bev, we were planning a second
Year anniversary party for you two!
But it wasn’t to be,
Bev and Blog looked up at a starry sky,
And Saw a star twinkle, Brad would wink
With his right eye,
Which secretly between
Blog and Brad, meant I love you,
Her wink was bad, as she sent a message
Back to Brad - I love you too!
VICTORY
Grades announced,
Laurels seeks his owners,
Repelling failure,
Never to rest in the hearts of timids
But for the contrite in hearts.
Jubilating galore,
Majestic march towards triumph,
Highlighting a mark made,
Standard above others
Conceded by the brave.
In the past though times,
Rigorous exercise going on,
Forces combine together to form battalions,
With military laws at hand,
Strongholds guided against infiltration.
For liberation,
Men sacrificed their lives,
To achieve flawless victory,
Banners held high,
Flags upheld,
It was a victory galore.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI DOMINION
Happy National Friendship Day - August 6th, 2023
The idea of Friendship Day originated
in the United States in 1919,
proposed by Joyce Hall,
the founder of Hallmark cards.
It gained official recognition
when the U.S. Congress
proclaimed the first Sunday
of August as National Friendship Day in 1935.
Unlike this papa akin
to being racked, raided,
and raked with hot coals
during his adolescence devoid of
a social network and academic goals
if possible to magnify
psyche, one would see
mostly a torn (Turin) shred of holes.
Thy youngest (of deux) daughters
afflicted with developmental delay
did not overtly agitate
as much as myself, asper being
emotionally isolated, a miserable fate,
she participated with
supportive services how grate
full (this once psychologically dead papa),
progeny of his did not experience
chronic severe hate
Shana (Punim) blessed by fate
while a Lower Merion
High School student did great
fully experienced positive
munificent interpersonal bounty,
she didst illustrate
with smiles all around her countenance,
which sophomore socialization better late
than never, which friendlessness
(that didst plague this papa),
thee progeny didst obviate
thus, this poem
(to no one in particular),
expresses how I appreciate
the plethora of supportive
services, to ameliorate
bugaboo sans inferiority complex,
(ran rampant within self)
where mine imaginary
pals did commiserate
nevertheless, aye envy thine
woefully begotten Harris heiresses,
whose self esteem positively
of mine bolstered,
when as little girls
their needs and wants gave me purpose
ensure ring a confidential boost,
and now doth demonstrate
how remedial, and extracurricular activities
during and after class respectively,
combatted cognitive delay,
warding off bullies,
who did grate, humiliate
and interrogate, this middle aged
(he's a jolly good) fellow,
Johnny come late
lee to the "NON FAKE"
thrown into game of life
changing strengthened soul asylum
primary, secondary, and tertiary grades
where whipsawed,
pejoratively emasculated, jackknifed,
oppressed, traumatized, and yoked
hoary golem, unstintingly
bruiting, browbeating
and bamboozling gremlins
wrought zealous destruction.
Most of my Lix spittle existence
found me figuratively
(primarily academically) adrift,
and malfunctioning blinker
analogous to a boat with
out an ankh (caws
away) aimlessly bobbing -
and drowning akin
to a besotted drinker
just out of rest to be
rescued by Mister Rinker
sea ming lee without
any hook, line and sinker
despite being gifted with
an above average thinker
from without, where two
myopic ocular
orbs did winker.
All thru academia
just barely passing grades
metaphorically
suffered from anemia,
and at my nadir,
thy prepubescent psyche
plummeted lovely bones
into grave state,
sans anorexia minus bulimia
mental health also linkedin
shot thru through with
healthy dose of dysthymia
cap (tinned em man hint mettle)
kept awake with insomnia
peppering cerebral
cortex with monomania
buzzfeed ding somnambulant
zombified condition
with a burning
desire toward pyromania
nsync with unmanageable
raging (red dee
and bull lush) testosterone
spawning satyromania
the above particularly
accentuated, and cresting
with accursed
triskaidekaphobia
most agonizing, when
orbitz around Earth
demarcated ten plus
on a Friday the thirteenth,
hence death be not proud
sought after utopia
pleading, longing, and hooping
if I Willoughby
able to sprinkle
cremated ashes across Xenia.
A word once spelled out
Defining what Saturday Night was all about
Lads from Bay City
Scene colorful, enchanting, and ever so pretty
Roller and rocking
Having one number that brought opportunity knocking
Entertaining enthusiastic disco dance girls
Experimenting with hair curls
Today Londoners are inside
Trusting the health care credibility protocol guide
Proclaiming lockdown
Serious rhetoric it did sound
Was this ugly frown?
Coming from the crown?
That brought modern life back to the ground
“Stay at home!”
Spewed the cautious tone
Instructed on the magical cell phone
“Maybe read a book all alone”
Club suggestion American author Nathaniel Hawthorne
And his writing about Witches scorned
Then convicted for the reason they were born
Passing the spiritual grades
Puritan anger sharpened threatened biblical blades
Intention protect evangelical attitude that resembled a virgin island
No one around to challenge any lying
During minute thirteen
Gallagher gent had a goal it seemed
“Get us out of relegation!
We are tired being patient!”
Came from the bird
When heard
“Extra time went way too long
The length of a Led Zeppelin song
We need to socialize and that is not wrong.”
Vengeful blades should be put a way
Scoreboard reporting nothing to say
Watch those in peaceful flight
Reminding those the Kingdom was once known as Albion white
Stop worrying about isolating fears
Instead start toasting Saturday Night cheers
24 Dr Peppers
One day I started running and my legs fell off.
I was in the army, and I had to clean the floor with a toothbrush.
It started raining sideways.
Then a bullet jumped up and bit me that day.
Jenny threw her shoe at her old house.
I guess she ran out of rocks.
I was with Jenny, and I became the minute man.
That’s all I’m going to say about that.
I had 24 Dr. Peppers, and I had to pee.
My mom made some strange noises because she cared about my school grades.
Me and Jenny are like peas and carrots.
Jenny played a guitar naked, and I saw her butt.
For a while I owned a shrimp boat.
When I first met Lieutenant Dan, he was holding a roll of toilet paper.
I like playing ping pong in the spring.
One day I gave Lieutenant Dan some ice cream.
Jenny, is he smart like me?
No Forest. He is dumb as a coconut tree.
You never know what you're going to get in a box of chocolates.
All just put my hands in my pocket.
Me and Lt. Dan are best friends.
I like dancing to Sweet Home Alabama.
I can’t forget about Bu Bu.
Another friend of mine who likes shrimp gumbo.
Me Lt. Dan and Bu Bu are the three amigos.
Jenny will always be my hero.
Ten Years (rewrote it for better meaning)
(Love you, mom)
February 21, 2007
The day that i last saw your face
The same face that went through war
To keep the family together
Through the hardships of life;
The day that i last hugged you
The same hug i had given you
Before going to school towards going to bed at night;
The day that i last said "I love you"
The same three words when i got good grades
When we got back together in '04
After in foster care for nine months
I pled to God day and night, tear after tear,
Screaming in depression and falling onto my knees
Just to hear you for one, long hour,
But it'll never happen
Its been ten years that you've been gone
And i know you're in a better place
And one day I'll be right next to you
I fought through the struggles of pain
Fighting my inner demons that i developed
Through the first three years of your passing;
I fought through the bumps on roadblocks
Going from place to place, blaming the world
And God for taking you away;
I fought through the struggles of depression
Even when i tried cutting my wrist
Because i couldn't get over your death;
I fought every day and night,
Hoping that life would stop tormenting me
With flashbacks and depressing memories of you
Begging with every ounce of tolerance and energy
But there were no endings
Its been ten years that you've been gone
But i know you're in a better place
And one day I'll be right next to you
Its because of you, mom
That i can write amazing poetry
Act like Jim Carrey on days of happiness
The way you've rasied me
Had me care for those who lost their
Closest relatives and given them comfort
Telling them that i am here to come and talk
When no one else would
Friends i had in the past considers
Me as an older brother thanks to you, mom
Its been ten years that you've been gone
But I know you're in a better place
And one day I'll be right next to you
One day,
I would walk down the streets where we lived
With the sense of relieve that you're watching me
And I'll have faith for that coming day
Because i love you mo