Long Schoolboy Poems
Long Schoolboy Poems. Below are the most popular long Schoolboy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Schoolboy poems by poem length and keyword.
Today is the day you show us your worth.
You recede,
you retract,
a retarded new birth.
This taking motion.
Your body paints on the canvas of its life,
an outpouring of you without control.
An abstract,
a schoolboy erraticism,
in colours not seen by your eye.
They take you.
Your canvas awash with human error,
they break you,
they shape you,
they paint you a colour.
These tones are not yours,
a model,
a floorshow,
with no applause.
All of your motions undetected in this hour.
This world has no time for you,
but you are measured,
in black fingernails,
patches in veins,
stitched lips,
in coolth.
They gift you,
cold,
in this place of warmth,
this home.
Unrecorded timelapse shows majestic animation,
interrupted by fast comings,
and faster goings,
and
teardrop
explosions.
You are home,
your home,
our home.
oh, those years of sit down and be quiet,
of all our shortcomings,
our
hearts
darkest
riot.
I learned something the other day that I never knew.
There is a form of poetry known as the clerihew!
'Tis a form of rhyme about a luminary of some fame,
And the first line must contain the feller's name.
Alexander Graham Bell, as every schoolboy has known,
Was the genius who invented the mysterious telephone.
'Tis well known that he is credited for this famous coup,
Uttering the immortal line, "Watson, come here - I want you!"
Paul Revere is famous for making a daring midnight ride,
Heralding, "The Brits are coming!" to the countryside!
As a Boston silversmith he also gained a modicum of fame.
In this enlightened age we still "revere" his name!
Henry Ford satisfied the masses, we may all agree,
By manufacturing the venerable Ford Model "T".
He said, "You can choose any color as long as it's black!"
He even tossed in fenders, a crank and a sturdy jack!
Ben Franklin was a multi-talented feller indeed,
Noted mainly for helping develop our nation's creed.
Perhaps also known for suffering a shocking jolt,
Fooling around with an occasional lightning bolt!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
I used to pass an empty house
On my way home from school
I was only ten years old then
I heard that older people lived
There
But I never saw them.
Found old photos
Showed them to Dad
Where’d you get them he asked?
Found them in the old house I said
Then he and mother spoke
In the privacy of their bedroom
I saw the shadows of their arms
Move
And point toward my room
This was the 1950’s
Times were different
And some things
Were just never talked about.
When the old house was torn down
I went inside
To look
And to explore
Kicking an odd piece of dirt
The soft rotted wood moved
And something flipped up
Bones
Some as big as my leg.
But it was the damp smell of decay
That I remembered
Vividly
Even at that time
When anything new
Was always exciting
This was different
I had not experienced anything like this before
But I would years later
Ten years later
A decade to wait.
I was In Country
Two tours
Separated from my group
Never found
Missing in action
But really I’m dead
Been like this for years
All that’s left
Of me
Are bone fragments
Part of a femur
And a scratch of faded cloth
Scattered over a vast green landscape
At the edge of a jungle.
Occasionally I hear digging sounds
Not the heavy shovel kind
But a gentle probing
Of earth
Someone intent on finding something
But not wishing to disturb
They haven’t found me
Yet
So I still wait.
I never got used to the damp smell of decay
But just the same I take solace
In that smell
Because it reminds me of
Long ago
When I was just a schoolboy
Coming home.
all my life i seek a truth in you
the reply i get is an anvil to the skull
banished from view, i begin a journey for a definition of self
all the while i figured i could rid myself of all thoughts of you
yet and still the planted seeds continue to bloom in my mind
honestly, i guess the overall feel will never go away
one day i may even kiss the tip of your grave
misery can inspire through the unfortunate realms of woe
invisible wishes are like flashing cameras in constant continuum
the art of a schoolboy crush turned to murky tap water overnight
for the rest of my life i seek solace for the sake of my curiosity
if i ever see you again, i will pray for a kiss from an angel
newly rooted in renewal will be all trust and honesty in every drection
maybe then we can be each other's hero and heroine respectively....
The spiritual warrior can free the world of fear. Standing bravely, meeting death eye to eye, as if it were an illusion. The east says that life is but the manifested dreams of ego, but it is more than that. Even though the scientist, or the alchemist before him, speaks of the essence of the material world, as the vibration of energy, or essentially... nothing. The west, as such, has found a way, to fit God into its model of existence, not as a myth or fairy tale, but as the all-powerful, yet still unproven element, that stands behind the creation of the universe, known by every schoolboy and girl, simply as...Love!
date:2/18/2020
The first heart attack was quite mild:
he put it down to indigestion
at first, but the pain persisted.
Some pills and lectures on lifestyle changes
followed the stay in hospital.
Yes, he'd try to stop smoking, he said,
and to cut out the fatty foods.
But the craving for cigarettes
was too strong and he secretly smoked,
while assuring me that he'd quit!
The next heart attack was much worse;
he really did try after that -
a fat-free diet was no fun
and nicotine patches were no help...
but he stuck to it for a while
(I think it was a week, maybe two).
Then I smelt the smoke on his clothes,
saw him wolfing down bacon sandwiches,
slyly like a naughty schoolboy.
By then I pretended I didn't know -
my nagging was killing him, he said.
The third heart attack finished him.
I'm heartbroken that his heart was broken...
Journey Journal Page
CONUNDRUM
By Leon Enriquez
Such are the seven ages of man:
Life’s true conundrum in fresh game plan —
“Sleepy” the helpless infant child spills,
Crying bouts as strange wonder reveals;
“Happy” the whining schoolboy thus drills,
Fumbling with painful homework that grills;
“Dopey” the emotional lover thrills,
As girls and hormones urge foolish odd feel;
“Bashful” the devoted soldier bills,
Bold yet rash as fearless passion steals;
“Doc” the wise stern judge with cryptic ills,
As vain views and ideas splice goodwill;
“Sneezy” the clueless old man gulps pills,
Ageing has brought dread and change he feels;
“Grumpy” the corpse dotes on death as fate wills,
Senile mind-body droops to fade downhill;
On this mortal journey quest decide,
Let body-mind, heart and soul abide;
Here and Now watch fate curl and swirl form,
Live well your craft and evolve through storms;
Just for today extract joy from pain,
Discern and learn yet live not in vain;
Our time on these earthly shores is brief,
Gratitude and humility frame gist;
Ephemeral our drama and daze,
Transitory our wit, whim and craze;
A brief bubble on a vast sea of time,
Floating in the momentum of still mimes.
Leon Enriquez
02 August 2023
Singapore
OLD AND NEW 2 : BOARDROOM
Jackal preyed on dimpled dolls
smiling gold on slender wrist
nosing down a slippery path
scowling schoolboy promoted
beyond his mediocre castle
Mammals sat on polished teak
coiffed moustaches, tonged peaks
feeding unclipped grapevines
old words and wounds
eating raisin muffins
Falcon scribbled notes
watching eyes serving
newly ordained masters
legalese from a previous
age flowed from fine shifting
fingers in a cage
Overgrown thyroid sat there
his infantry lost in teeming
townships blaring transistors
interrogators of another time
peeped at a polished tiger-eye
on his seat
Minds like noisy tools
drilled atomic holes in
the boardroom table
beaded headdresses falling
from fat oozing french seams
They will learn Christmas carols
in mint retirement homes
when the table losses its legs
©GhairoDanielsPoetry1997
Hidden betwixt bloom-petals bees and beetles play,
Sculptured, like scorpions, black clouds often collect;
Cool moisture vaporous breeze on air perfume spray,
Sky, in schoolboy costumes, colors-brushes select.
Pregnant with drops, heavy-laden clouds, Torrents pour,
Creaks and cracks break soon like streams and rivulets vast;
Bullfrogs, in snake holes, seeking mates, like lions roar,
Knaves! They slip into the mouths of snakes as break-fast.
Parrots in green silks, amidst leaves play with the rooks,
Branches, dripping crystal blood, wave-like live phantoms;
Lightning, piercing cloudy caverns, light up all nooks,
The drama of nature - performed with cool tantrums.
Though glooms of monsoon resemble crucifixion,
Monsoon, in true conception, is resurrection.
(Amidst floods, the monsoon in India is a season to relish and cherish. Every scene of monsoon can give themes for many poems).
30 July 2021
There was an eagerly keen schoolboy,
Who when used the Greek term ‘hoi polloi’,
His teacher, a pedant--
A kind of stinging ant,
Corrected it to ‘the hoi polloi’;
Sir, my apology,
Ain't it tautology?
No, use grammar, boys as would a toy!
___________________________________________
In Greek, hoi polloi means ‘the people’. Thus, hoi is the article ‘the’, and when we say ‘the hoi polloi’ which is the way the expression is used in English, there doubtless is tautology. But usage determines grammar, not the other way around. Further, when we say ‘eagerly keen’, there too is some tautology as well. Further, the word pedant comes from French and Italian, and perhaps from Greek ‘pais’, whose teacher is called pedagogue. Pedant earlier meant only a teacher, but later on acquired its today’s meaning: one who lays excessive stress upon trifling details of knowledge.
My fellow poets might have sometimes faced comments that border on being pedantic.
______________________________________________________
Ways of words |04.06.2020|
Topic: humour, school, boy, teacher, apology, tautology