Long Roommate Poems
Long Roommate Poems. Below are the most popular long Roommate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roommate poems by poem length and keyword.
It was 64ºf and overcast this morning when Lisa and I started our 5-mile jog to the Harbor and back. We always start our semesters this way. We’re emotionally ready for fall weather and hopefully, a long and cruel winter.
Sunny, Lisa, Leong and I were starting the morning with breakfast together. We have summer catching up to do.
Of course, Sunny never does the expected. Over a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios in the cafeteria, she announced that she’s “really going to try this year.”
“That's a choice,” Leong admitted dryly.
“You mean academically?” Lisa asked, for clarification purposes.
“Wait,” Leong updogged, “Did your parents ask for proof that you were here?”
Sunny rolled her eyes, she knew she’d get trolled with a newfangled declaration like that, but she meant it and she wasn’t tempted to elaborate.
“You’re a phoenix, rising from the ashes,” I said encouragingly.
“It’s a 4th in a lifetime opportunity,” Lisa noted.
Handling university academics is largely a structural task.
All it requires is artfully arranging information and slices of time.
“You’ve got this,” I affirmed.
“Let’s not get excited,” Sunny cautioned, “One reason I’m so hot is that I’m emotionally unavailable.”
“It’s your best quality.” Leong observed.
Tick tock, we’re all still unpacking but things are taking shape. Senior year starts in 3 days.
.
.
Songs for this:
Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall
Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing by Stevie Wonder
Our cast:
Sunny, (roommate) 21, is from Nebraska, she’s a cowgirl (seriously, she has a quarter horse and barrel races it), she’s an outspoken fem-facing ladies-lady whose life is an endless parade of ‘sleepovers.’ Sunny knows all the best gossip and she’s somehow befriended all the professors.
Lisa, (roommate) 21, A Manhattanite and reluctant ‘glamor girl.’ My bff. A fellow (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.
Leong, (roommate) 21, is from Macau, China - the Las Vegas of Asia and a proud communist (don’t knock it til you’ve tried it). She and Sunny are ‘molecular, cellular, and developmental biology majors.’ I speak Cantonese - I lived in Shenzhen China (about 30 miles from Macau) - maybe that’s why she was originally paired with us?
Me, Your writer is just a simple country girl from Athens Georgia.
We were (Leong, Peter, Anna and I) eating at a popular Italian eatery (outdoors) and the check arrived - I swooped across the table and grabbed the check from the waiter. Peter whispers, “You can’t pay for everything the entire weekend.” “Why not?” I say, “It makes me happy.” “There’s no reason to,” he says. “I need a REASON??” I snort, which always makes Leong laugh. “Have you MET me?” I say, shaking my head dubiously. “I’ve met you,” he pronounces, “and you’re a NUT. Thank you,” he says, indicating the check exasperatedly.
Peter’s transfinancial: a rich man trapped in a poor man’s body. He has taste but he exists on a grant and a meager stipend. We’re just friends but I’m holding a bag and he’s not. Besides, he needs a new laptop - badly - and shouldn’t be squandering his grips on me.
Greek-life is on the rise. Maybe it's because those groups offer planned social events or because, with COVID winding down (covid smovid) there’s more going on. There’s a pressure here - to be your most authentic self - to be top academically, socially - to have your calendar filled out. There’s a frantic nature to it. I’m being lowkey rushed for a fraternity (for next year) but I love my roommate situation and I think I’d druther stick with this set I love.
Which begs the question about social time. Should it be methodical, relentless, super planned out? Super planned interactions can seem transactional and not easy going and natural. College social life is so different from high school. College life is so much more charged in every way. The range of people you meet, the broader perspectives, the available options for activities.
I find myself in a search for balance. Private time vs social time. Before covid, you’d go to school and then you’d come home to your room, where you could just hang out. It was a self-care place.
At university, a dorm room is less of a “home” where you can be alone and spend that healing time. You never know who's going to be in your living room and what they’re up to. I get claustrophobic when my door is closed so I rely a lot on noise-canceling technology.
A dorm room can seem like those covid lockdown days - there’s little or no separation between academic and private space. I’m just unpacking some thoughts. *shrug*
Slang:
set = click/group
grips: duckets/money
holding a bag = flush/monied
~Another Fairyland Story - An Unexpected Visitor- Part 1
(Short Story or Narrative poem)
It was very early in the morning when I was just having
What I thought was a very good time relaxing all by myself
And remembering all the wonderful times that now have gone by
Since another year had come and left again here in Fairyland.
It has been all to tell the truth not all that great all the time
Since there has been quite some days that I wish rather not
Remember now especially today when all seem to be so sad.
I was about to embark in another one of my exciting journey
When all of sudden I heard what sounded like my front door
Opening and right there behold came bouncing in with a big grin
My very good friend and roommate the Mouse, who just been
Himself as usual said his usual greeting with a very warm hello
And a happy wave of his hand in my direction as he spotted me
Sitting at the table and having my usual hot and nice cup of tea.
This afternoon I was having a very delicious blend of mint tea
With other few spices thrown in the mix to accentuate its favor.
I wavered my hand at him and smiling I said hello to him too and
Asked him to stepped in the dining room and invite him to have
A nice cup too and he told me grinning that he would be more
Than content and very happy to do it since he was in need of
Having my very good company and having a good conversation
With me and update me in some recent happenings in Fairyland.
So he came around and just sat in his usual chair, then served
Himself a very nice warm cup of mint tea too. Then he turned
To face me and started to share with me many things that have
Been Happening in Fairyland for the last 24 hours or so and I was
More than happy to hear what he was sharing with me when all
Of Suddenly I heard what sounded like a very tiny fainting little
Childs voice coming somewhere from where he sat and asked
Him if he's heard it too and then just smiling at me he dipped in
Deep into one of his shirt pockets and gently brought out ...
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
April.27.2016
~ Authors Notes:
To be continued soon in the second part by the title...An Unexpected Visitor Part 2. :))
~Another Fairyland Story - An Unexpected Visitor- Part 1
(Short Story or Narrative poem)
It was very early in the morning when I was just having
What I thought was a very good time relaxing all by myself
And remembering all the wonderful times that now have gone by
Since another year had come and left again here in Fairyland.
It has been all to tell the truth not all that great all the time
Since there has been quite some days that I wish rather not
Remember now especially today when all seem to be so sad.
I was about to embark in another one of my exciting journey
When all of sudden I heard what sounded like my front door
Opening and right there behold came bouncing in with a big grin
My very good friend and roommate the Mouse, who just been
Himself as usual said his usual greeting with a very warm hello
And a happy wave of his hand in my direction as he spotted me
Sitting at the table and having my usual hot and nice cup of tea.
This afternoon I was having a very delicious blend of mint tea
With other few spices thrown in the mix to accentuate its favor.
I wavered my hand at him and smiling I said hello to him too and
Asked him to stepped in the dining room and invite him to have
A nice cup too and he told me grinning that he would be more
Than content and very happy to do it since he was in need of
Having my very good company and having a good conversation
With me and update me in some recent happenings in Fairyland.
So he came around and just sat in his usual chair, then served
Himself a very nice warm cup of mint tea too. Then he turned
To face me and started to share with me many things that have
Been Happening in Fairyland for the last 24 hours or so and I was
More than happy to hear what he was sharing with me when all
Of Suddenly I heard what sounded like a very tiny fainting little
Childs voice coming somewhere from where he sat and asked
Him if he's heard it too and then just smiling at me he dipped in
Deep into one of his shirt pockets and gently brought out ...
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
October.08.2016
~ Authors Notes:
To be continued in the second part by the title...An Unexpected Visitor Part 2. :))
~Another Fairyland Story - An Unexpected Visitor- Part 1
(Short Story or Narrative poem)
It was very early in the morning when I was just having
What I thought was a very good time relaxing all by myself
And remembering all the wonderful times that now have gone by
Since another year had come and left again here in Fairyland.
It has been all to tell the truth not all that great all the time
Since there has been quite some days that I wish rather not
Remember now especially today when all seem to be so sad.
I was about to embark in another one of my exciting journey
When all of sudden I heard what sounded like my front door
Opening and right there behold came bouncing in with a big grin
My very good friend and roommate the Mouse, who just been
Himself as usual said his usual greeting with a very warm hello
And a happy wave of his hand in my direction as he spotted me
Sitting at the table and having my usual hot and nice cup of tea.
This afternoon I was having a very delicious blend of mint tea
With other few spices thrown in the mix to accentuate its favor.
I wavered my hand at him and smiling I said hello to him too and
Asked him to stepped in the dining room and invite him to have
A nice cup too and he told me grinning that he would be more
Than content and very happy to do it since he was in need of
Having my very good company and having a good conversation
With me and update me in some recent happenings in Fairyland.
So he came around and just sat in his usual chair, then served
Himself a very nice warm cup of mint tea too. Then he turned
To face me and started to share with me many things that have
Been Happening in Fairyland for the last 24 hours or so and I was
More than happy to hear what he was sharing with me when all
Of Suddenly I heard what sounded like a very tiny fainting little
Childs voice coming somewhere from where he sat and asked
Him if he's heard it too and then just smiling at me he dipped in
Deep into one of his shirt pockets and gently brought out ...
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016
January.16.2016
~ Authors Notes:
To be continued in the second part by the title...An Unexpected Visitor Part 2. :))
Dear Anonymous,
The way she touched her hair. Leaned her head to the side. Her eyes
danced with mine, turning crimson I looked away.
Did everyone see me?
Her voice was magical. My mind acknowledged every movement. My heart
took me to places that were not present. Butterflies still live.
How could this be? I have lived like no other. I am no modern man. I have
seen death. I have encountered danger. I have been both good and wicked.
Who is she? She has picked my lock, opened the gates.
My clothes were the garb of a thrift rack. God, how I felt a stranger. Could
she know this? Had she seen the real me, despite my costume? Need I feel
shame for truth? Truth is all I am.
We walked, she laughed a time or two. The air became cool. I shivered like
a child. How could I tell her; I had no coat. I am poor dear? What is poor?
Her touch was electric. I felt like I had found what was lost. Her fingers
long and slender. She grabbed my hand, held it to her comfort. Did she feel;
what I felt?
She says she will see me, again. Then she will know more. She will know my
life, try as I might I cannot hide my journey. It is a story to be told. I have
accumulated nothing. I have learned, however, more than I can carry. It is
my story that enchants; am I more than a story? Will she walk away? Will I
sit and feel empty; feel loss for the never was?
Yet, how could I not walk that precipice? How could I not risk the fragility of
my being? My soul would not rest without knowledge.
Now I sit, melancholy ballads guide my mind to both heartbreak and bliss. I
both dream and fancy a lovers' tale. Yet, I secretly desire the tragedy. The
dear John letter, call, or lunch. "You know this is nice, but..." Then I can
crawl back in my mind again.
My mental space shares rent, a roommate that prods on desire. I cannot
endure heart break one more time. I am too old to walk on this path, my
angst is gone. I used to say, "Better to have loved, than not love at all!"
Foolhardy! Holding hands with loneliness is safe.
Dear Anonymous, will you be there? Will you listen? For I fear that she will
stay, and I will be lost.
From,
Lost in the forest.
The company wishes to research an idea.
Creating slotted aluminium frames that
Would be 18 inches thick centered between
Two areas.the external area would be double
slotted to house a poly thermal fiberboard which
Is housed behind a weather sealed plyboard. Which would be tightened
A sealed with weather resistant sealant.
The interior would be a weather sealed
the fiberboard internal plyboard would be to
exposed to create an interior wall. The idea also is designed
To use rough untreated lumber both interior and
External. With in the 18 inch cavity sand, cob, concrete
Or strawbales could be used to create the complete
Wall. An aluminium frame using the same dynamics
Would make the roof creating a pocket to be filled
With dirt, rammed earth, or cob to create a roof which
Could use external roofing to complete the project.
The structure would sii on footings and a concrete
Slab would be poured internal to create a floor.
Using rebar in both wall and ceiling is make uniform
Structurally sound walls to protect you from the elements.
Over lapped roofs to rid water run off.
Door and window kits designed to create a designers appeal
The structure to be priced under $10,000; with connection
Packages to create the mansionary roommate of your personal desire. Wealth determinational appendicitis dwellings. Using earthy materials to lessen the price of
Construction, allowing the aluminium and wood to create the
Desired look. Stain and shellac the plyboard. Scorn and oil
The untreated lumber. Create the perfect look.
Research and development.
Idea two...
Use untreated lumber to create 16 inch agaped boxes of fill
With a mixture of dirt and cement with rebar; of make the boxes with plyboard exterior attach rebar,fill two inches of cement fill with straw and.mud and cement mixture cap the top with cement.first you have to drill holes for bolts to attach new sections of the same material. Use plyboard to cover the area. This walling process can be used with a tracoring plan to allow the walls to be site receivable once cured.
Or creation of an aluminium frame with fiber walls walls
With poly insulation boards agaped and filled with earthen matrails priced under $10,000 to be attached to a trailers chassis.
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.”
Hot August, 1974, I was back for my second year at college,
having just settled into a new place at Anita Apartments,
right next to the guys’ apartment complex called Tanner’s.
My first night, we answered a knock at our door.
Steve Dietrich, a friend of my roommate, entered our apartment,
but my eyes went immediately to the younger man with him.
That would be his brother Joel, there for his first year at BYU.
My first thought was this: How shy he is, so reserved. . . but so adorable.
He was tall and thin and cute as the dickens.
They stayed for just a while, and by the time they left,
I’d formulated my big plan:
to get to know this boy Joel (who everyone just called Joe).
There was to be a parking lot dance that weekend,
and so I waited expectantly, hoping all week
to catch a glimpse of this boy I’d found so attractive,
but no matter how often I strolled past his apartment,
my opportunity for a “chance encounter” never occurred.
The night of the dance arrived and I was right there,
all decked out in my colorful tight top with bellbottoms,
long luscious lashes curled and pink frost lipstick applied.
When I caught sight of Joel, he was slow dancing with some girl.
A blonde with glasses, she was rather plain and smaller than me.
I was not pleased to see her with Joe, and I thought to myself:
Hmmmm, who does she think she is? I saw him first,
and he is NOT going to stay with her tonight.
As they danced, I fixed my eyes on him,
my beautiful, long-lashed, sultry green eyes.
He looked up and saw me then. I must have taken him by surprise
because I did not lower my gaze.
I wanted him to know that he was going to be mine,
so I willed him with my gaze to break away from that blonde
and come to me.
And so he did. . the rest is history.
Beside me at this moment, lying on our bed, watching TV,
is the man who today bears little resemblance to that
very young man I met 35 years ago.
I turn to him and ask, “Do you remember the VERY first time you saw me?”
He replies, “I don’t know; a parking lot dance?”
Well, at least he came close. . .
For Frank Herrera's Contest: Love Story
Dream Keys
by Odin Roark
A NY mantra
Rent the rentable
Move the movable
Key the keyable
Apartments
Four-wall-guardian of yesterday’s youth
Vacuous cellmates of old age loneliness
All part of a cyclic maze
All having a key
Urban life’s Rubik’s Cube turnover
Today’s the day
“Two rooms”
“New paint”
“Clean window”
“No-squeaky floorboards”
Superintendent loves to present
Move in
Keys
Entrance door
Mailbox
Apartment
Laundry room
All yours
A windowsill vase of plastic roses
Your welcome of faded memories
The window to the people below
Your traveled city as roommate
Through another glass darkly
Gotta love it
Pea green layering
Over cracked and peeling bygones
Your very own chipped-paint scrapbook
A giant shoebox of ghostly images
Once possessing your castle-keys
Settle in
Struggle
Dream
Survive
Stand at your window
Watch canyon updrafts
Swirl your make-believe snowflakes
Carrying them skyward
Mixing with sparkling darkness
Where every star is yours
Count the days
Where light to see
Will be owned by neighboring towers
Where former tenants came young
Left old
Where thrown cups and china
Christened walls
And confinement’s anger and tears
Found solace in an ever inviting empty bathtub
Where pounding fists
Rattled bathroom door hinges
While a child hid beneath a bed
Smiling tearful thanks
A wanderlust roach
His ever-faithful friend
All yours
Here
Where a Sammy Glick got started
And an undergrad
An engineer
A Radical leftist
A piano teacher
All touched
All turned
All once secured your keys
So
Add your imprint
Become tomorrow’s remembered page
The scrapbook knows no end
This is Manhattan
Scenes will erupt
Hysterics will rebirth
Life will live
Maybe live some more
Then
Your turn to pass the keys
Your turn to pile worn memories at the curb
Mattresses always appreciated
Stand across the street
Watch the ever-smiling Super
Hand the keys to the next habitant
And then…
Go
Never to forget your contribution
Leaving behind another preparatory memory
Allowing the coming year
Your next season of imaginings
To dream of another home
Somewhere
Waiting…
Gifted with keyless entry?
Loneliness gone?