Long Lab Poems
Long Lab Poems. Below are the most popular long Lab by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lab poems by poem length and keyword.
In dynamic classrooms
Amid inquiry and exploration
with my mind racing, in casual attire or rolled-up sleeves,
With my hands on experimental apparatus,
questions, not answers or rote memorisation
Next to workbenches, savouring discovery,
Standing among student projects or in nature, even in a community
space.
Listening to passionate debates, being challenged
by young minds questioning everything
I can foster a laboratory of democracy.
Critical thinking, pragmatism, social engagement, scientific method, art,
ethics.
When one student connects learning to real life, I am elated...
I am no longer a mere instructor.
I am in a town hall, under a microscope, in society's framework,
I am a facilitator, a co-learner, a social reformer, and a progressive
thinker.
In evolving educational spaces,
Surrounded by hands-on experiences, not confined by textbooks at all,
Yet continuously reflecting on theory and practice,
I learned to revolutionise education.
to the men in lab coats with horns like unto goats,
an open confession of a minor isotope:
I -- so -- Hope that a day shall dawn
when men no longer long
for the things that do not belong
and are, oh so wrong
for mine and your and his and her song.
Have you heard the song we sing?
Like a toad's song on a summer night,
or wedding bells that ring,
for the virgin in white,
pure as the driven snow?
No?
Know what?
The toad hoards the dream to sing
with a voice not broken
and a chorus not of croaking
but alas! he keeps choking
on the flies of his own lies
as SHE (the queen mother) belies,
bequeathed yet bespoken
to a king, comely, and oft misspoken.
I (not one to spread misgivings
and false learnings), I give you, Miss, a token.
A token of a key in a minor chord
for the song worth singing
from Hell's lowest floorboard
to Heaven's own pearly door.
Take it and run, never to show a soul
but place it safely in the hole
in your face and swallow it whole.
In your belly it will thrive
-- half dead but all alive --
until the time is right and the beat is clear.
Then you will belt your song
for the Universe to hear.
Sing it strong and carry the notes so long.
Doubt it not, for you cannot be wrong.
Know ye now
that from whence the world was frozen --
that you, my dear, were already pre-chosen
and the path for you was already paved
that through this song of mine
and yours
and his
and hers,
thou woman, through your song
mankind shall be saved.
You know where he's at
He been in Gotham,
Whole city lit,
He grew and blossomed.
What he touches, he flips,
Moves with caution,
Always asks if you good
Load up attachment.
Map in his hands,
Survives in the woods,
Light up a match
He’s good in the hood.
Hustle forever, forever he should,
Walked through a path
With booby traps like the Goonies would.
He grew up a man,
Can’t leave the trap,
Needs a bag,
Pillowcases with chicken feed in the lab.
Standing on business,
It’s buried in the back,
Delivers the mail
On a mission
Tunnels and trenches,
Benches stay cold,
Carries the heat
Like a thermal
He don’t bend, don’t fold,
Can’t stay consistent at home.
I’m the Joker
Can’t be controlled.
MUSIC IN THE LISTENING LAB
Notes! Notes of music
Bouncing
Off of walls – off of chairs
Off of ceilings and off the floors
Running down the hall in half steps
Flooding every inch of space
In atonal tangos - rhythms searching for their time.
Notes! Notes of music
Bumping
Up against each other
Up against the lines of scores
Vibrating tension pushing hard
Against a measured tempo -
Shrilling to be heard - only now to lose their pitch.
Notes! Notes of music
Crawling over one another
Trying to find harmony
Trying to discard the dissonance
Jamming in, losing sight of their rest,
They squeeze into the space -
With no resolution, unseen voices in a crowd.
Notes! Notes of music
Tripping over downbeats
Tripping over cadence
Falling flat upon their sharps
Phrasing key notes rise again
In soaring sound tracks arranged in one accord.
N/A 3/21/20
It hurts, most days
to think myself
broken and weird
It hurt to be told I needed to be fixed
To be analyzed as a mouse in a science experiment
Something is wrong
With you
What a shame
Shame
Shame
Shame on you
Don't you feel any shame?
Call it nature, to be curious
The studied call it torture
Do you know what it feels like?
Before then, I felt really good most days
I never look in the mirror
It hurts too much
Stop.
It hurts.
Pathetic.
I wake
Pain.
Get ready
I look normal
I sound ok.
Thoughts
Think normal thoughts
Boots, boots, boots
tHerE is no discharge, waging a Losing battle uP,
down, again until ceasefire
5/25/22
It's often obnoxious
Toxic and caustic, occasionally getting nauseous
Always careful or hardly ever cautious
Becoming a clan
Micro organisms quickly scram
Easy to see on cam
In the liquor I dove in it and swam
Drank way too many tall cans
Constantly taking dabs
Always chiefing on several strands
I'm a complicated man
Accept me for who I am
It's just too bad
Feeling 2 sad
Occasionally they ask "Are you mad?"
Damn
What's being done from Uncle Sam
Too much spam
all these scams
I'll leave them where they stand
After one body slam
Across the badlands
A storm brewed in the form of sand
Often played a part and had a hand
If it had anything to do with a grand
Or some brand
Then they'll give it a stab
It was beginning to expand
Or starting to disband
It all was there to grab
Watch out for any sham
I got another scab
Then took care of my tab
Next I spent more time in the lab
Because I don't care about any fad
Endlessly people gab
Thought they had the master plan
Then got caught in a traffic jam
While in Amsterdam
Yellow Words—Used 10 times in the poem
Under the warm yellow sun
floating on the calm Yellow Sea
fishing for the sweet tasting yellow fin tuna.
My mouth waters at the thought of
tuna steaks slathered in spicy yellow mustard
while my old yellow lab snoozing on
my bright yellow rain slicker will have his share covered
in a yellow egg yolk sauce.
I tie the yellow lure to the leader anticipating
a rugged fight with the ferocious tuna.
A wayward yellow canary, blown to sea by the wind,
lands on my cabin roof. Perhaps I will have good luck.
I wear my yellow tinted sunglasses and look to starboard as
I prepare to stalk the elusive tuna.
I am tired of visiting pubs but let me be found in knowledge labs.
Assimilating words like water filled in cups.
Today, tomorrow let me hold a book on my lap.
Being soaked in knowledge and becoming wet as clay getting wet or damp.
With illumination my soul will see a better map.
As there is space between the heavens and the earth, so it is between lovers of pubs and labs, there is a gap. Forsaking studies is like, on the road meeting a bump.
Knowledge lab beautify my soul, change my phonology like potassium reacting with hydro-chloric acid producing a hissing sound.
My semantics as rich as a British pound.
Syntactic pounding like an AK47 round.
As cold water is to a thirsty soul, study lab let me know you more.
In a year are 365 days, in a year teach me 365 words.
As a knife to a kilo of meat, so separate the chaff from the wheat.
Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, so let knowledge lie in the minds of the reader.
As a chemist is skilled in chemistry, so be it that I be skilled in this art.
I am not scared of a suicide bomber, what scares me are people who avoid the study lab.
Because the avoiding knowledge and, once a dog thought, since all cats have four legs and I have four, therefore I am a cat.
Speech is silver and silence is golden, between the two which one is precious? I guess gold.
Pubs are noisy while study labs are quiet. between the two where do you choose to be found.
As a salon makes the hair of a woman organised, knowledge lab, make my minds exhibit the talent of organisation.
This was my favourite friend
when I was growing up
a black Labrador dog
especially at first being a pup
But like all of us
dogs will always want to walk
always needing exercise to grow
but sometimes their bark is their talk
My lab has such a lovely coat
love to run my fingers through her hair
so dark but so awfully smooth
brings a feeling much too rare
You'll be wondering about my friend
if this pal has a name
well yes it's called Cora
call it and it always came
This friend died many years ago
I still miss her so very much
indeed renowned as man's best friend
I can still remember her familiar touch
poetgord@2013
Don is the ultimate user
His deals seal you as a loser
When Trump holds the cards
The lives now in shards
Bear witness he’s an abuser
The Don has a trick to reveal
He’ll dick you and cancel your deal
Like hands on your neck
Trump voids your paycheck
And feels ecstasy when you squeal
If acts are life’s indicator
Don’s a classic woman hater
Though cratered with flab
Trump will pussies grab
As rapist and a dictator
What will show how Don’s dick-brain thinks?
Trump’s thrusts come with lies and high jinks!
Amid this disgust
Some high and non-plussed
Have heads up his rump with what stinks!