Old School Cool (c) 2025 by the Entangled Pair
She's hot, yes, but she's also cool
she is a gem, she is a jewel
I think she's great (and I'm no fool)
she beats those drums like she's old school
she pounds those skins, sometimes it's funny
she hits them like they owe her money
and one thing more I'll tell you honey
she's on that kit whether cloudy or sunny
She's been that way right from the start
plays from the the soul, plays from the heart
she always does more than her part
it's not just passion, it's her art
looking back I am that fool
dug in like a Missouri mule
and if this doesn't break some rule
she's not just cool - she's old school cool
word
Provoking her is not easy to do
She’s been teaching children since fifty-two
Spanking was the norm back in the day
I still like to use it she will often say
Alas times have changed, children now play
Wasting their time each and every other day
Ridiculous she said when she finally retired
Just months before she may have been fired.
They're smiling leniently don’t be silly
You can’t be apolitical these days
I’m smiling back I don’t trust them initially,
It doesn’t fall under a criminal offence
I’m fascinated by the incongruous lines
Just look at those familiar shapes, distorted
The early cubist paintings make them shine
Not blindingly, but just how you would want it
Ambiguous light of green and brown hues
Strict and fastidious lines, this is my politics
No one’s deprived, humiliated or abused
You’re in your favorite chair watching pics
It’s a spiritual job, not quite a passive leisure
Those pictures move in time can’t stay the same
They grow on you without any measure
Until your mind will get the best of frame
You hang out in the school of old escapers
The shooters cannot see us with their drone
Tomorrows ash deploy yesterdays papers
Don’t ask of yesterdays old girls – all gone.
How I met Josie
I met Josie at the Black Cow
a watering hole for singles
pair of jade Green Earrings
adorned her ears
and drew my eye
we talked about our pasts
spent time Reelin’ In the Years
found out she had gone to Bard College
which was My Old School and
we enjoyed a Time Out of Mind
we watched the Baylon Sisters
sing Pretzel Logic, when they were done
the crowd shouted Do It Again
all waitresses were assigned a number, ours was nineteen
whenever we needed more drinks we yelled
Hey Nineteen!
All aboard the bizarre Farage barge..
Unless of course you are from abroad..
.
Narcissist catalyst.. old school fraud..discord twist..
Can't resist.. staging the raging red mist..
Fist of Mob rule tryst does persist..
Depraved raves..insist..craved faves..
Won't save slaves & knaves..
Hellbent they are sent..
To graves under the waves…
Foolish votes for ghoulish gloats..
Seedier media leaders lying..
Defying the dying..
Folks crying..ghastly ghostly boats..
Crude jokes delude..lewd masterstrokes denude..
Corporate rascal castle debacle floats..
On dank murky murderous moats..
Scuffles.. muffles ruffles & kerfuffles
Pokes & provokes just for bank notes..
The ubiquity of inequity
This poem or tome..
Every face…race should be.
Free to roam..
In this place..
We all call home..
Old School
Miracle Man
3/8/2025
High Tech is impeding my remaining old school,
though sometime late in life I made this conscious choice.
That even though some saw me as just some old fool,
That throughout my lifetime my opinions I’d voice.
There are many things that i can no longer do,
but i can accomplish much that some others can't.
I'll remain old school until my lifetime is through,
I've neither will, nor desire, for this to recant.
You better believe what your bringing
Cause I'm cracking out these lyrics and leaving your ears ringing
I'm like the angels that sing on high
See all of humanity and ask why
Cause I'll give you a reason to believe
Bring all hope and let all this doubt just leave
I'm relieved to see that your carrying your weight now
So lift it up high as the waters rise up how
you better remember you can swim
Your failure is vast while your success is slim
Be ready to assimilate what they sell you
See how they got you and control what you do
No way is this close to finish tho
I'll flex my mind and break you out of these chains so
Chandelier whispers through glasses,
Musical notes because of sea shore's air.
Saying all the swears isn't kept as promises,
No one cares if the decisions were fair!
Awake at night and sleeping at noon,
In waiting for a broken star falling like me.
I wish I could stare at you like my moon,
I bet, still a poet is living in me!
It's just an end of a young love,
Which was kept breaking for too long.
Stopped myself from fallin' in love,
And I end up hearing old-school songs.
Old school is no longer appreciated,
been made redundant,
is anticipated.
Youngblood’s heart is always on fire,
he wishes that old school,
would soon retire.
Youngblood expects to be a leader,
to take the position he’s all eager.
Old school's retirement,
is not yet expected,
for all his achievements,
he is highly respected.
Young blood is anxiously waiting his turn,
old schools position he needs to earn.
By Saleh Ben Saleh
Forget the 504’s.
Forget the IEP’s.
We are going old-school.
Everyone treated the same.
No matter what.
They will be given the same task.
Many will not have a chance in the middle of a toothpick of completing it.
But we do not want to change our ways or alter our lesson plans.
In K-5, K-8 or K-12 is drained
the curiosity from eager brains
Then off to college most folks go
where Truth is disseminated from Moscow
A nursing home's a spruced-up jail
from which residents would love to bail ...
In between, we're on the job every day
where we're overworked and underpaid
Off to school in morning dark,
Passing through the village park.
Caught the light at Hill and Main.
Crossed the tracks before the train.
Past the houses and the stores,
Up the hill and through the doors.
Sat in silence, row by row,
Watched the clock tick, slow by slow.
Heard the bell ring in the hall,
What I learned I can’t recall.
Made my way back down the hill.
Steps on sidewalk echo still.
If you step upon a crack,
Sure to break your mother’s back.
Turned the corner at our street,
Thoughts of learning in retreat.
Years have come and years have gone,
Boy inside me lingers on.
We old school teachers got voted down with a shout
We wanted school uniforms to continue you see.
The young teachers know everything, they voted them out.
Misbehaviors are as rampant as they could ever be!
Why can’t they show their belly buttons? A young teacher asked.
I show mine and my lovely bra straps and my thong too.
This leader is open-faced, not incognito in any way or masked.
Insanity is alive in elementary schools in twenty-twenty-two.
The tiny old school, which was my first guide,
has become a museum of a distant age.
The playground--swings, bars, and slide,
still stand in mute dismemberment stage.
A fence around, a ticket to buy,
purchasing memories packed away.
Days so distant, unseen if you try;
Sharpened pencil scent, recalled today.
Inside, Grade One, up the stairs, Grade Two.
How can it now all appear so small?
So proud to pass to second-grade view
learning how to write, we felt so tall!
The tables are there: six of us at each,
and now I don't remember one name.
They gave our class the best to teach:
so tiny, like one of us, we felt the same.
Some memories better left behind,
with sadness they bring of years long past;
and daydreams we always hoped to find
around the corner where dreams can last.
September 13, 2022
for Back to School contest
by Francine Roberts
Honorable Mention
We moved the sectional around
pushed the fleshy parts of the sofa
into hips and dips.
Too much of a hump for a Wednesday
or too early or late.
Finally out of breath
we sat side-by-side
sipping red wine from china cups,
underwear around ankles.
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