Long Schoolers Poems
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Last night, Lisa, Peter, Leeza and I were in her father’s 50th floor study watching New York City. It’s a corner room with glass walls from floor to ceiling. He likes to watch the city himself and has a small, 5 seat sectional couch facing the view.
The left wall window looks across Hell’s Kitchen to exactly where Sully Sullenberger crash landed flight 1549 in the Hudson river (it was 3:31 pm and no one was home). The right window overlooks Central Park and Upper Manhattan. Lincoln Center, almost dead center of the corner, looks like part of a toy train-set.
The view is a wheeling, ever changing and mesmerizing panorama. Well lit ships, barges and boats move glacially against the ink black Hudson. Jets in expressway-like holding patterns (Newark Liberty, and Teterboro airports left window - LaGuardia, right window) blink, like waving angels, helicopters buzz below like insects and the traffic, far, far below, forms a living chain of red and white lights which can erupt with nugatory hues of police blue at any moment.
While we watch, we’re playing a game of “Would you rather.” It’s a game of situational trade-offs, like “Would you rather listen to the same 10 songs forever or have to watch the same 5 movies forever? Of course, most people say the movies - because they last longer and there would be fewer repeats.
We take turns asking these critical questions - pausing, occasionally, to point out things below.
“Would you rather be in a crowded elevator with a bunch of noisy high school students or pinned in with a bunch of judgemental, middle aged men? The girls chose the students, even though high schoolers can be mean. Peter chose to be with the men.
“Would you rather find your true love or a suitcase with 5 million dollars?” We all chose love.
“Would you rather hike or camp?” Both were unpopular if they involved going to the bathroom outside - which creeps the girls out.
“Would you rather give up your computers or your pets (forever)?” THAT was a stressful one.
.
.
My movies: Clueless, Rushmore, Moonstruck, Shakespeare in love, Dr. Zhivago
dracula (the real deal):
you know he’s been rollin’ in his coffin
since ejacula came & took over
the whole vampire scene---
as if it wasn’t hard enough to try and live off the blood of
moronic humans
for hundreds of years,
suddenly these pre-pubescent
high schoolers from “twilight,”
with their perpetually stoned eyes
(however, never actually
doing any drugs)
come along &
taint his image.
yes there was a time when vlad prevailed
when the people of his kingdom feared &
respected the man who fought to keep
wallachia free of the ottomans---
so much different was the man whose legacy,
illustrated for the west by stoker,
sat as a wonderfully unique novel delighting readers
for over a century,
taking its place next to shelley’s frankenstein on
the shelf & followed by the likes of
rice.
but as the saying goes, “all good things must come to
an end,”
and so strolled in ms. stephenie meyer
whose excrementitious mix of once interesting
vampiric lore & the quintessential teenage
stumbling over sexuality
(of which she claims: "I don't think teens need
to read about gratuitous sex.")
has become a new brew of
non-threatening pulp
which besides giving two actors who couldn’t
act their way out of a box high-paying careers
(as undeserved as the author’s),
has infected a whole generation of young women
who now have a brand new template for
abusive relationships.
meyer’s “abstinence ****” (as it is now
dubbed by many)
brings with it the inevitable message that women will
lose their whole sense of self in a relationship &
end up succumbing to the supposed societal norm
of having a child, that is,
a ludicrous vampire baby who will no doubt grow
up learning how to be abused just as the mother did---
this distressed damsel that stewart portrays
is so transparently based on meyer herself
that one would have to be intoxicated to a point of
blindness,
not to see it---
the real choice of a young woman to have an abortion &
not have a child with an abusive vampire
might make for a less “romantic” statement
than the twilight-drivel---
if only independence was as romantic.
Shhh! We turned at the sound and beheld the stern scowl of the public library monitor as she admonished us. Steely eyed, with piercing glance, jaw set so tightly even her wrinkles retreated in fear. She seemed to be born for this job of hushing raucous grade-schoolers who had invaded the “ big “ library for the first time, under the pretext of doing their homework assignment together. This was our second warning. The third would mean expulsion and possible banishment for life.
Such threats, however, could not deter giggles from bubbling up inside two anxious sixth grade boys, who constantly prowled their lives for new adventures. Silence is for old people! Silence is unheard of for kids! It is the worst form of torture. The story, of course, ends with expulsion, but here is the all important epilogue:
The public library was large and rectangular with a grand main entrance. Directly across from this entrance, sixty feet away, was a rear entrance through which you might enter and exit to the parking lot. This was the entrance through which we had arrived.
We were escorted to the main entrance with a great show of force and a substantial demonstration of authority. We were almost physically ejected.
Undefeated and undeterred however, we waited five minutes before re-entering boldly through the main entrance. We strode briskly across the sixty feet to the rear entrance, to exit of our own volition. All the while trying desperately (and failing miserably) to maintain the certain pride that comes from exhibiting both grace and decorum.
Instead, we were giggling and busting up, wide-eyed and panic- stricken as we half staggered and half-ran into the everlasting history of our adolescence. Filled with our own brand of pride, one that was bestowed on all those who conquer any obstacle, be it mighty windmills or fearsome library witches
Ad Hoc Ad Litem: CHAPTER 2
Reverse Psychology has no real true antonym, if so, it would be known as persuasive psychology which is nonsensical and the redundancy of the word psychology be removed. On the other hand, Reverse Psychology has been used time and again, throughout RECORDED history since the year 1 BC, when the serpent did that number on Eve, who did it on Adam.
1a] It was my Dad who said to Mom, I overheard on the phone, that they were up to something. Did Mom say good or bad? Did they ask you why we moved to the mainland? No, that you got a good job up here, that's all. Then they are asking son.
1b] Reverse psychology Dad used them, as I did higher learning courses during the computerless era of the mid-70s stuck in the library, tutored high schoolers all older than me, a third of which was my cousins--family alma mater. My benefit was a memorable life, except for my son's loss, I would not change anything else.
2] Reverse psychology benefited them--Hell yes! Some came to my graduation, all standing ovations and laughter being the only one left standing the longest recipient of scholarships. These high-ranking officials of the State of Hawaii, dignitaries all, shaking their hands with my proud parents, and no bowls of water to have them washed. Hawaii School Board was there, it was all too apparent. Those dignitaries shook my hands too, and went back to their well-secured political seats for the rest of their lifetimes. Their benefits were more than just seats, public buildings, parks, beaches, highways, and submarines, even our beloved Aloha State's largest airport is named after my biggest benefactor, who was also my graduation class commencement speaker, the Late Former Senator Daniel Inouye.
Students Shaky Sing-A-Long
***A bolted school bus amidst bobbing heads rolls downhill...
Fictitious dank bathroom basin bailing;
a mother's kiss and general list spelled.
That rickety school bus horn toots, trailing;
wide-eyed, groomed hair, texts deftly being held.
Screeched wheels, a slid-back hatch exposed wider;
scrambled soles win middle-bus-seating.
Too raw being back-of-the-bus rider;
skilled to be by kids up front eating.
The why's of school bus seatbeltless renown,
At curves, we skim, hands intently about;
all bumps we drift upwards plus swiftly down--
and stops, reeling forwards midst racked arms out.
Youth strums some ukelele from the back.
High schoolers commenced a sung melody,
immature head's turn, to a lull they lack;
savoring quite calm, grown in harmony.
We have reached midst raised spirits set to spark,
as choruses end, volumes collected;
concurring lives equipped to disembark,
ere consigned bell chimes--such is--expected.
A conducive school day has now begun...
while active minds, smartly stretched that wellspring.
School's demanding bus, stops, scored some rerun;
slid-door, as swimming brain cell's minds to sing.
~~ a ukelele freed from its case prepares to board...
2020 June 29
*1st Place*
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW(2) any theme any form
~~Brian Strand
Crazy how having respect for someone
Gets confused with kissing there butt
I guess I was just raised different form you
I'm sorry
But i'm honestly happy we're not friends anymore
I can’t believe I let you walk all over me
And yet i'm only seeing it once i've taken a good step back
I've always been someone to believe that everything happens for a reason
You might not understand what that reason is
But one day all the pieces will come to you
And you'll understand
I wish more high schoolers understood
That high school is such a small part of your life
So even though i'm having a hard time too
I want all the high school students reading this to remember
You are loved
And things will be hard at times
You'll feel like you can never get to the shore of this horrible ocean
But I believe in you
And I know how it feels to be in that ocean for a long time
With the waves rushing over your head
A million times over and over again
And i'm sorry you feel like this
But you have to remember there is things to live for
I know you didn't ask to be placed on this earth
But youre here for a reason
Trust me
YOU ARE WORTH SOMETHING
YOU ARE LOVED
Please don't forget that
-R.S
Transportation, Mi sey transportation
School transportation, Mi sey transportation.
Transportation of schoolers, We can’t ignore
Parish Council and T.A. open the door
Dem open de door to safe highways
Drivers, come mek mi show you de way.
PLAN NUMBER ONE, yu must put in place
Watch yu speed limit, Or pólice in yu face.
But oonu inna hurry,
An oonu inna haste
Jus a grab plenty dollas
Inna dis ya rat race
Yu no realize sey dat tings no so nice
Protect de schoolers dem,
dem a fi wi special prize.
Transportation, Mi sey transportation
School transportation, Mi sey transportation.
PLAN NUMBER TWO
a telling you is true
Play wid de schoolers and yu corner really blue
Treat de pickeny dem wid plenty respect
Diginity, Courtesy and yu know de rest
All when inna yu face dem push up dem breast.
Responsibility is PLAN NUMBA THREE
Dress to impress an talk mek we see
Yu a one good driver wid nuff control
Drap de pickney dem right a school door
Transportation, Mi sey transportation
School transportation, Mi sey transportation.
Transportation, Mi sey transportation
School transportation, Mi sey transportation.
Early to rise
late to lay,
business minded people
who barely slay;
best of friends with traffic
who make their day.
Clicking show glasses of Ghana bons
with schoolers ready to buy;
Athletic traffic sellers who could
catch up a bus at 120
A metropolis
coloured with yellow molue and danfo buses
whose drivers are as audacious as the day;
chain smokers with throaty voices
impatient with co-commuters
when they cry "Mile2 Mile2!"
Energetic touts with special anthem
"owo mi da?"
Grubby fighters in yellow
ready to engage any fellow.
Happy market women in their sizes
buying and selling in faded wrappers
in loud cries of "langbe jinó o"
and hilarious children replying "I get belle o!"
Impatient road users in their dusty trekker shoes,
almost bumping into one-way bikers
who would often holler "oloriburuku oshi!"
Loud jaiye jaiye gbedu
with dragging notes
from roadside DJs
who are live for the party
and on Saturdays for the couples
A city with anaconda queues at banks
with sweaty odours from co-standers.
Konfam Okokomaiko pikin
#CeeJay
#BusyPenPoetry
Nobody has a common name; we are named Apple and Broom.
Because movie stars did it, and they are glamorous and rich.
Apple is okay with it, Broom is dour though, full of gloom.
Why not Curtain or Couch? He often wonders or Matt or Mitch.
You think you have a problem? That is noting Waylin Eatstockings said.
He could not change his last name, and horrible teasing made his face red.
What about me? Asked a girl named Panty Waist McNeal.
Your name is a Godsend, a blessing, truly no real big deal.
Broom met Mop, who concurred with what the others expressed.
I am resigned to my fate, she said. I guess it’s time I confessed.
My sister is Sparkle, and my Brother is Puppy Dog Glows.
So Mop is not that bad in my family. My brother is Big Sugar Toes.
What ever happened to Dick and Jane? The old schoolers asked.
They looked through the phone book, deciding it was a big task.
There were Bed Pans and Axe Handles, and other weird crazy names.
I guess the times are wild now, whereas we grew up in mild Thames.
I come over home schoolers house
He looks me up and down
am no looker
But the boy's looking
"So am suppose to help you out or somein?"
I nod without a word
He grins like satan
And im burning up in hell
"So hows it like being home schooled?"
He looks at me,use to the question and knowing the answer by heart
"Ive got free food"
And i laugh,he throws butterflies in my stomach
He sits me down
and he bends down for my bag
And looks up
I seductively say:Are you high?
He nodds
And i gap
He replies:High in 7th heaven
And takes my hand
The next thing i know im trying to get on his lap
But that chairs in the way
He flicks the chair
And he carries me easily onto the couch
But before i could get his lips
He collides onto the ground
his mom staring at us wildly
No more crazy fun for us
He looks at me with a frown
"Sometimes,i wish my mom would leave off school grounds"
***Humour and lips are a great combo=) ***
For a missing friend Booboo who knows awwe to well