Faded linen
which smells of straw,
and a shift of corn
in the back of a drawer,
is all that is left
of the girl next door,
she stayed a while
from June to September,
and left fresh berries
to help us remember

There's a failure to acknowledge failure
In this prideful world of today
To admit you were wrong, change it up then move on
And not be stuck in that single mind state

Not a soul here has their act together
If you must know the truth
Some just fake it better than others
Something I have yet learned how to do

But I do acknowledge when I've done something wrong
And try my best to learn from it
Every time that I fall, get up dust myself off
Then try not to do it again

Have we not seen throughout history
That failure can be a learning curve
When you see what went wrong, make a U-turn
Leaving it far behind in the dirt

Instead of having it on steady repeat
To do it over and over again
What do they say about insanity
Expecting it to work out in the end

I'm not saying to embrace the failure
Just acknowledge that it's there
When you slip from the trip quickly get over it
In this game we play of truth or dare
Failure is everywhere

Today was the first day of class.
You should have seen all the people.

Everyone couldn’t have had class, some of them must
have been gawkers, the types that slow to watch
flat tire changings and car wrecks.

Some were carrying maps - freshmen.
Like student drivers they clogged the paths,
drawing a few looks.

They gaggle together like geese,
Jeeezus - shut UP and get ON with it, freshies! I thought.
Not ungenerously - I remember being lost - back in the day.

I have class, myself - in both the intrinsic sense - of style -
and in the “research for credit” ‘check in on the first day,’ kind.

Still, we’re parading, and I’ve always loved parades.
My one regret is that there are no mimes or elephants.

ok.. poetry..
Stress is somewhere in my propinquity.
See, it’s known to stalk this vicinity.

I’m not a freshman, so it hasn’t struck yet,
but when it does, and it will, you can bet,
that initially, it will shake my tranquility
and end our start-of-year festivities.

It will creepily creep, destroying my sleep,
until I prove my scholastic resiliency.
.
.
Songs for this:
Violently Happy by Björk
Schoolin' Life by Beyoncé

Summer’s in the rearview mirror,
re-experience it at your peril,
it’ll only distract you now, and maybe depress you.

Summer shifts your orbit, from classrooms and remote zooms,
to lollygagging by beaches and snuggling in cozy hotel rooms.

As intense and vital as last summer was - as they all are -
it’s already blurring in memory.

Soon only the memory of sensations will remain,
like the warmth of the breeze and the sun on my skin
and sigh the warmth of a certain boy’s skin on my skin.

Those flashbacks ache, late at night, like phantom limbs.
.
.
Songs for this:
All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow

No joy is greater than playing with the children
It's then you stoop to be a child
And stop to be an adult.

You must choose to lose
When playing with them
Pretend you know little
About the game.

They win and you heartily clap
You lose yet wear a broad smile
You're almost their age when you play
Giggle and roll and laugh to make their day.

Suddenly you realise it's no pretense
You're truly a child in all its essence
There was always a little one in you
Happy carefree and without a worry.

Grab the rare chances to play with them
Change your mind, take a new name
Patient or doctor or thief or police
Whatever the game, your reward is bliss.