I studied all night long.
I think I aced my math test.
Numbers dancing in my head.
wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
While walking to school
I was thinking about last weekend
- it was great. we did nothing -
and I stumbled on uneven pavement
it was a trip down memory lane
I was wearing a dress and I skinned my left knee badly
Charles, walking with me, grimaced at the blood
- which almost made me laugh
he wanted to call a car but I doughtily soldiered on,
scraped, bleeding and cursing my own clumsiness
If people noticed they didn’t point, stare
or barf at the grizzly sight
at school, I went straight to the ladies,
and washed it with soap and water
sticking pieces of toilet paper to the worst of it
to stop the bleeding and then limping to class
in emergency medicine, that toilet paper
would be called an ‘immediately sterile’ cover.
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Songs for this:
Walk Like an Egyptian - The Bangles
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Each year I made a Christmas playlist.
If you like Christmas tunes, please enjoy the Christmas feels!
daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_35.mp3
Happy Holidays Everyone!
Leaf dies in air
Trees going bare
Death stalks the woods
Of those athletically good
Sweating summer heat
In games where they compete
Never do they cheat
Being honest and true
Acting cool
Laughing fools
Champions determined
Life lessons learning
Decision final and confirmed
Hardware issue no longer a concern
Northern success exposed
Confederates propose
Move inside
Red lights will guide
Scores made
Making the grade
Finally, a trade
Check signed, saying paid
Shutting mouth
Going south
Community warm
Staying in University dorm
Will make this undergraduate program a winner
Before the all-inclusive meal plan dinner
Then off to the library and study
Learn how to make, investment money
Earning a degree, that is what is funny
Since making field goals really wasn’t a realistic thing
Along with not being able to sing
But books in print
Will hint
Proper direction
After securing academic protection
Paris is about attitude and the art of slow living, where nothing’s urgent and everything’s fine.
But if you’re in school, that’s not true. I just began a group project (gp), and to paraphrase William Shakespeare, the storm has come again! GPs are big affairs with slow moving parts, like conceptualization and collaboration - and all that happens before any actual work is done.
Some cultures treat deadlines like casual suggestions but I get absolutely hinky in the loom of deadlines - I pace, chew fingernails and fret.
The other day, a TA (teaching assistant) asked me if I was trying to “prove something.”
The French invented ‘laze faire.’ after all, but I’m American enough to have dismissively said,
“I’d like to prove I can complete the assignment on time.”
Let’s get poet-y..
A trial comes, like a cloud, so dark it should thunder
but there’s no bromide, offer of shelter or tent to mock the storm,
it’s for us - as strangers - to return results which opinion crowns fair.
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Let’s sing the blues:
O.K. I'll Play the Blues - Deanna Bogart
Emotions and Math - Margaret Glaspy
Preachin' Blues by Larkin Poe
As much as I have dared Mathematics,
Also been found struggling through terms to fix
Other topics; an instance...
That does seem of same sequence,
But might set on calculating conflicts.
So I celebrate,
How CALCULATOR actuate,
Answers to debate!
Miss Faith Odunsi on a global scale,
Represent Nigeria so well, I hail...
Your pleasure's difficulty;
Defines you a specialty.
This champ's story isn't a fairytale!
So enjoy your win...
Here, more new stories begin,
To place up your skin.
Now, the world best mathematics student,
Fast as she aptly nailed herself prudent,
Yet beautifully sound black...
Whose brilliance sparks her attack,
That defend her stakes upfront so ardent.
So much, I respect-
Pure energy of effect
By which you connect...
The random times of fun,
of which I cannot run.
The most beautiful joy,
That make the teachers annoy.
Eating lunch during class,
Breaking windows made of glass.
Careless of the school rules,
Roaming making the teachers fool.
Such of free person was I,
Thinking of it I wanna cry.
I am ransacking for those days,
No matter what may it pays.
Those days were much fine,
Because in the end they were mine.
I woke up this autumn Sunday morning
with papier-mâché clouds performing
like a ticker-tape parade from left to right
a strong breeze doodling fall leaves to flight
The birds are just gliding, no flapping in sight.
Today’s a free day, a don’t mess with me day.
I’ve no homework, or assignments
it’s like I’ve escaped from confinement
even my coffee tasted like creamy freedom.
What do you do when you don’t have to do
anything? Why, I could write a play, like Mozart,
or an opera, like Shakespeare - if I were THAT smart -
but don’t those sound like academic effort to you?
I want to hold hands in the park and promenade,
Peter loves strolling the flower markets by the Seine,
a gelato at Amorino after lunch at the Saint James cafe,
and the rain or shine street art at Rue Saint-Rustique.
Isn’t boyfriend-time the best way to spend a Sunday?
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Songs for this:
Waterguns (feat. Tom Bailey) by Caravan Palace
Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz
Dreamin' by G. Love & Special Sauce
Peter (my bf) and I are keeping it modest, practicing the art of the small things. Among our repertoire of pleasures are simple conversations, after long, exhaustive school days, in non-technical language.
Shall we wax poetic-ish?
Ever, my heart had blazed as if branded by fire.
Then love finally arrived to sweetly quench that unseen, smoldering blaze..
Fate, for a while, like scissors, came between us.
But having thus far proceeded, I did sorely miss the confections of closeness.
So, I shamelessly plotted to conjure sordid-reunions.
You may damn the force of my weaknesses and think me devilish,
but I am, after all, a living, female thing.
Do I relive that awful trauma? No, living in the past is like reheating nachos.
No one wants that.
Or do we? We take so many pictures, now-a-days.
Are we sore afraid of losing our yesterdays?
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Songs for this:
matters of the heart by lovlaine
Oh Honey! (I Love You) by Peach Tree Rascals
Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz
We do not know what life is by resigning ourselves to death.
Just as we don’t know what love is by only tasting hate.
The poor don’t know what it’s like to never look at the tag.
But the rich don’t know what it’s like to have nothing and not be sad.
Those who own companies don’t know each customer's regular order.
Yet the workers don’t know what it’s like to be judged by the public.
Models don’t know what it's like not to wear makeup.
While the girl who walks the dog doesn’t even own mascara.
The judges don’t know how much each fall hurts.
But, the contestants don’t know what it took for the judges to be at the top.
The cashier doesn’t know why he can’t pay for his food,
And he doesn't know why she’s a cashier.
The teacher doesn’t know what happens at home,
Just like the student doesn’t know what it costs to maintain one.
In the end we are one or the other,
And we may never know the second half.
And I think that’s why no human can know it all.
And people need to learn that that’s ok.
There's a reason why we only live once.
As a non insertive question
Citizen has single federal file for all personnel.
Objective of research is objective
During description in file
As sealed Indictment within government as possession of journalist record is economy.
Obstruction is escalation of budget into file
Over life of citizen, depriving citizen of liberty.
I am a research journalist.
In poverty I research not creating poverty
This is to learn what you and all can't do
Without Allegiance War Defeats Itself
Thousand Oaks California hate speech and hate crime
In passenger seat of crime as war
"Do you want my ex change"
Driving away from store front
Attempt of beauty in cowardly defeat from racist feminine face of propaganda.
In America
As American
What was not your families crime in creation of you
Identify yourself formally
Thus production as matter in universal law prevents how?
Unfinished student a financial crime of origin.
Jericho's Ballad in Walls waits for stencil?
Courageous hatred waits in your god given talents
None of the guys
ever asked me out
they teased me
or just froze me out
I wasn’t stuck up
I was shy
I’d just come from China
that is why
I didn’t know the styles and trends
or even where I should begin
there wasn’t much that I could say
I never talked much anyway..
so I sat there
and read
I was an incredibly
epic fail
To all the guys
who called me names
that tagged my locker
and tried to shame me
I wasn’t snooty
I was shy
I’d just come from China
that’s the why
I didn’t know the styles and trends
that let a new girl fit in
I’d never even used the Internet
I was as lost-in sauce as a girl gets..
so I sat there
and read
Which eventually
got me into Yale.
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Songs for this:
Conversation by X-Cetra
Simply Couldn't Care by Tracey Thorn
Human Behaviour by Björk
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*A poem from 9th grade (2019)
** We’d moved back stateside from China so I could have a ‘normal’ high school.
*** I just added the last two lines
My sky
Sadia Sultana shoshi
My sky, let me whisper
Into thy ears to tell,
How I saw losing myself
How I jumped and I fell.
If you hear,tell thy clouds
Tell them to rain,
To hide my tears,hide my story
To hide the raw stain.
If you hear,tell thy sun
Under him I'm all alone,
If he cries through your eyes
Please hide what I've begun.
If you ask, why I share
I got no answer neither help,
If you wanna go,you are unbounded
But those whispers, keep to yourself.
i think that even if i were to change,
nothing else would
i think there will always be something
wrong with me
no matter how normal i look
why should anyone recognize me anyway? my bright pink hair
doesn’t make me less dull
i try to ignore the laughs, the stares, the outward thoughts of people thinking,
“what a weird *!”
i really cannot blame them;
i think the same thing
do these people really not care what anyone thinks of them?
perhaps i am strange in the way that my brain allows me to
still think with individuality
i want to go home where everyone tells me they hate my stupid hair instead of
just staring at me until i figure it out
Taunted by luxury, a life of ease.
I struggled to utter the words, “sir, please”?
I’d become distraught by my circumstance.
I saw no way alone; I could advance.
I knew the time in my life had now come,
To lose my ego, ask help from someone.
With all my money, I’d still have to ask,
Or accept my failure at this one task.
With money and self my only allies,
Having no solution was a surprise.
Sometimes our dreams may require another,
Like a friend, stranger, sister, or brother.
With my deepest desire, I long to teach.
Without another, it’s out of my reach.
Specific Types of Student Poems
Definition | What is Student in Poetry?
Poems Related to Student
undergraduate, scholar, pupil, junior, graduate, observer, learner, novice, skill, docent, disciple, apprentice, sophomore, undergrad, registrant, schoolchild, grad, first year student,