Time cannot lessen the joy from fun and family vacations
that ended in September for a new year of education.
At each age, September meant I would get pretty new clothes.
I would shop with Mama who had me try them on and pose.
I liked school's first day until high school fueled a need to preen.
September’s meanings ended when I graduated at seventeen.
University days of my youth
life was a smorgasbord of unlimited opportunity
~ where has the time gone?
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
We are not safe.
We are encased in our sadness,
mourning flowing from every orifice;
not realizing
how flammable our tears truly are.
Our suffering is not dignified.
Bloodied bodies hang limp
on the crucifix of our classrooms.
life’s a rush,
and i’m in the middle of it.
sixteen—
they call it the flower of youth,
but honestly, i just feel like
my roots pushing through stone,
small, stubborn,
aching for light
in a world too heavy.
the clock runs faster than me.
classes, books, exams,
every note i take feels like
a brick i’m laying
for some future house
i don’t even know the shape of.
my mind is hungry,
i feed it every day.
words, poems, philosophers,
all the questions nobody dares to ask out loud.
i’m trying to make myself
into something solid,
while still soft enough
to feel everything.
sometimes it’s beautiful
the thought that i’m blooming,
that every word i write
is a petal unfolding in silence.
sometimes it’s terrifying,
what if i bloom too late,
or bloom wrong,
or the world never even notices i grew?
and still, i run.
sometimes without knowing
where the finish line is.
but maybe that’s the point,
that life isn’t about the answers,
it’s about the rush,
the blooming,
the daring to grow
while time refuses to slow down.
and maybe, just maybe,
one day i’ll look back
and see that all along
i wasn’t just running—
i was becoming.
I saw it being built on sacred ground
a field where we boys had many times
reenacted Custers Last Stand.
Ashen boned jaws were riveted to the sky.
The school now waited to be
a concrete cave where madness
was injected into cringing sponge.
I dreamed once that I was a dog
chained to the school's bicycle rails.
Inside the new school, demented teachers
screeched through split nails.
Each lesson had to be hammered
into my psyche, each day my scalp tingled
with a foreboding.
Yet I knew that the arrow in my eye
had to be pushed in a lot further,
a whole lot deeper,
if my mind was to be ever
totally massacred.
JUST BE YOU
A Praying Mantis
Can’t be a butterfly;
Nor can a moth
Be a hiving be:-
Know that it’s not
What you are,
But who you are: God’s
Unmistakable child:-
Don’t ever strive to be
What others think
You ought to be;
Rather, always be
That great creature
God created you to be:-
Let the cosmic essence
Of your glorious being,
Forever be a shining star,
Enlightening terrestrial Earth
With God’s peace and love:-
Being who you are,
Is God’s divine purpose
Of your blessed being:
The creator of grace,
Peace, and love,
Never has, and never will,
Make a mistake:-
Thus, never attempt to
Exit who and whose you are:-
As sun rises
I hear your voice
Playfully waking me up
To start our day together
Filled with adventures.
We go down the road
Teasing the shopkeeper,
Running back, dogs chasing
Breathless laughter in the air.
We had many people
Around us, but
Having each other's presence
Was more than anything
This world could offer
We sowed seeds
Of our friendship
With love and hope
To grow our own garden
But I lost the trace.
It's been 10 years,
Still drowning in our time
And I've been wondering
What type of garden
Would it be now
Would it have grown like
A garden of
Long-lasting roots
Or a garden of
Forgotten threads?
If you'd ask
If I still remember you,
I'd say
I still hold you
As you never left me.
Somethings never change
Me, losing loved ones
You, losing our memories.
I hope that you still remember
Atleast one seed.
If it ever crosses your mind,
You might wonder, like
It's a Special memory of life
But I miss it, like
It's a Special life of memory.
~ Based on the song, "What Did You Learn in School
Today?" written by Tom Paxton; popularized by
Pete Seeger ~
What did you learn in school today, son
What did they teach in school
I learned how to protest my country, Dad
They taught me that violence pays
What class did you learn that in, my son
Do you remember the teacher’s name
I learned that in Geometry, Dad
And my teacher’s Mr. Uppin Flames
Why you leaving the house now, son
Not ‘til your homework’s done
My assignment’s to attend a protest rally
Hey, Dad ~ Can I borrow your gun
Oh, what did you learn in school today
What did the teacher say
I learned how to protest the US of A
My teacher said violence pays
AN ALLEGORICAL MATH LESSON
(Rational And Irrational Numbers)
1.
Rational numbers,
And irrational numbers,
Teach many lessons:
Allegorical lessons,
On the living of our lives:-
2.
We must live rationally;
Living irrationally sucks:
Swallowing life’s goals:-
That teasing “pie in the sky”,
Must be assessed by squaring
With God’s sage divine wisdom,
And His repeating guidance:-
3.
Thus, always strive to be
In logical reasoning
With ourselves, and with others:-
With deception all wiped out,
And all wrong things put aside,
Always seek to do what’s right:-
I comb your shadow hanging on the dream wall
swinging on the dim ceiling
sometimes you grin up there
sometimes you laugh so sweetly in the silence
my fingers are always thirsty, touching your dark jaw
your waving mane
so fragrant in the night air
I will pull a piece of the blanket
letting your shadow crawl to my side
and fall asleep together until dawn erases your shadow
Caffeine vapor billows
blowing with the raindrops
the ceiling says
my body wanders
to a part of nowhere
glowing like a warm air
as if it were true
The reflection of the latte under the yellow light
the foam forms a crescent
like the curve of your smiling eyes
Petrichor tonight is so foreign
because only the gentle wind
between your body is familiar to me
I begin to enjoy the thunder
thundering beats
rhythmically
with the same beats
like an album cliché at my fingertips
jumping from time to time
Raindrops intertwined with nostalgia
melancholic rhythm
irony and romance
instantly combined
now flowing away
Hi January
I miss you
ah, not you
but January. I miss May,
who smiled in the flower field
to the strains of the melancholic song
that played in my head at that time.
Hi May, let's go together again to January
so I can see you again
spinning merrily
among those swings.
Hello May
You will sit again by the North Sea
catching the tide
as I loved it.
And May,
walk again in the dim lights of the old city
with your steps in those white shoes
and I with the night drizzle,
admiring you then.
And now the drizzle is falling
Missing you again
In the alternating drizzle
The heat creeps into the empty fabric
only getting colder
inside the tightly closed gray jacket
no warmth of jokes and laughter
nor embraces that are increasingly glowing
please, close your eyes for a moment
let me kiss between your reddened eyelids
bitterness of isolation
And if it's tomorrow
take the time for a final greeting
when I'm still stuck at the end of the road
so that the pressure on our shoulders will lighten
If it's still 20 counts
let's turn away before the bitterness ends and silences
before regret and suffocation grip us even more
before forgiveness and love are expressed again
You were gazing at me as I looked in your direction
You, caught in reverie and a daydream reflection
Both of us wondering if we've made a connection
As you stand with your friends by your locker
As both of us are caught up in this moment
Both wondering if the other one knows it
Both wondering if the other will show it
Having our love listed on the docket
You writing our names on your notebook
In a heart our names, in your mind nuptials took
Me stealing your heart like some kind of crook
As you lean back on your book nook
I saunter over, parting your friends
I fumble for words, my heart beats intense
I manage to muster these words in defense
"You've captivated my heart with just a look!"
A WINDY SUMMER DAY
Planes sailing the sky…
Waving trees shadow the sun…
Kid’s paper plane day…
Specific Types of School Poems
Read wonderful school poetry on the following sub-topics:
back to, bully, first day of, farewell, funny, haiku, high, leaving, life, memories, middle, preschool, primary, rhyme, sunday, teacher,
and more.
Definition | What is School in Poetry?
Poems Related to School
10th grade, 11th grade, 12th grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade, 4th grade, 5th grade, 6th grade, 7th grade, 8th grade, 9th grade, academy, alma mater, college, education, eighth grade, elementary school, eleventh grade, fifth grade, first grade, fourth grade, institute, ninth grade, scholastic, school, schoolbook, second grade, seminary, seventh grade, sixth grade, study, tenth grade, third grade, twelfth grade, university