They tell us we’re the future
yet 63% of us stand under twenty-five,
hungry for more than empty promises.
They say unemployment is only 6.8%
but when each job vacancy spawns nineteen hopeful faces,
those numbers shatter.
It’s not our fault alone
we’re taught to pass, not to prepare,
and leaders build bridges to nowhere.
change the system,
rebuild classrooms with real tools,
forge curricula in tune with today’s world,
craft jobs that don’t evaporate at sunset.
We memorize theories dusted in chalk,
while the real world races in code and startups
our syllabi stuck in yesterday’s headlines,
outdated lessons that never teach how to build,
to pitch, to innovate, to adapt.
change the system,
write modules on digital skills and green tech,
teach us negotiation, problem-solving, resilience,
so our knowledge finally walks hand in hand with reality.
Because when the system bends to our needs,
those cracks become the light we’ve been waiting for.
Categories:
syllabi, africa, community, courage, creation,
Form: Free verse
New semester.
Did my courses run?
Oh yeah, but too many.
Work on my syllabi.
I promise I won’t cry.
The night before class.
I pace the kitchen.
Sending prayers up.
Are you listening;
Please make my students be nice.
Calling my friends for advice.
First day of class.
Please impress them.
Some activity.
Get to know them.
At night memorize their names.
Two students named the same. (Always)
Long semesters.
Trudge across campuses.
In the rain and snow.
Am I at the right school-do you know?
My Google Assistant gave up long ago.
End of semester.
All my students cry.
I break my promise.
I let them see me cry.
We will be friends for a long time.
New semester.
Did my courses run? …
Categories:
syllabi, hope, school, work,
Form: Free verse
Those burning candles midnight,
And unending syllabi,
When heart bled in tears,
At no time, I would ever want to relive!
The moments of wait for togetherness,
When beloved failed to turn up,
And the agony of helplessness,
Certainly not ! Would not relive!
The day he lay calm and motionless,
Ways parted and the touch lost,
And I was unable to follow the soul,
Terrible, surely would not want to relive!
Those scary days of solitude thereafter,
When I turned a hard stony rock,
With all my emotions blunted out,
I would never want to relive!
Categories:
syllabi, emotions,
Form: Rhyme
The places we chose to put ourselves
willingly, unwillingly.
Past lives linger and we emerge with a scream
spitting the remnant wombs from pursed lips
producing the perennial pucker
the seeking sucking sounds as we search
for this incarnation's tit.
Why does one leave the shelter of wing
the warmth of nest
and with bowed head search the syllabi
of society for meaning from the first scream
while others linger in reminiscence of a lost dream?
Thrown from the warmth of family
the naive can chose to fade, to wilt, to die
or to rise wide eyed center stage
spitting angry ugliness back at the defilers
or smiling sweet dishonesties like overcoats
woolly and warm on a bitter winters day.
Karma its existence a righteous warning
to the wary womb walkers
many paths to take, many horizons
to bridge and neither smile nor scream
may be the proper response
go figure....
Categories:
syllabi, confusion,
Form: Free verse