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Louise 4d
A sober rockstar, not even a puff of cigarette
A man who's actually one
A cowboy making the sign of the cross before a rodeo show
A ******* singing songs of love
A murderer in an old church's confessional
A white guy in Manila who's actually here for work
A cool guy having hot flashes and constant fever
A deadbeat father writing poetry
A ******* making the sign of the cross out of habit
A hot guy having regular hypothermia
A politician smiling warmly
A poet
A poem
A poet and their poems.
An Oxymoron Poem.
It's said of Jesus' loving arms:
"Within the storm, the eye, the calm,"

Then why is what I've seen of him:
My brothers brought to harm?
Written after witnessing, quite ironically, a debate about Jesus devolve into fisticuffs.
The dogs of the world often bark at just about anything
even at all those people who can poetically sing.
From 'Simple Observations' ongoing writings since the early 90's.
Rajat Akre May 15
In the grand tapestry of teaching, oh what an irony,
Heavy workloads and limited time, a teacher's reality.
The demands of planning and administrative tasks,
Leave little room for professional growth, an ironic mask.

Standardized assessments hold their prominent sway,
Personalized instruction often pushed astray.
In the pursuit of measurable student success,
Oh what an irony, tailored learning becomes less.

Creativity yearns to dance with the curriculum's frame,
But guidelines and standards can stifle its flame.
Balancing innovation and prescribed requirements,
Oh what an irony, creativity often expires.

Assessment-focused teaching takes center stage,
Holistic development may find itself in a cage.
The pressure to achieve desired outcomes so keen,
Oh what an irony, limiting the broader learning scene.

Teachers, pillars of education, yet often unrecognized,
Their impact immense, but acknowledgment minimized.
In the realm of recognition and fair compensation,
Oh what an irony, undervaluing their dedication.

Autonomy, a cherished gift for teachers to possess,
But administrative constraints can hinder their success.
Top-down decisions and rigid schedules in place,
Oh what an irony, limiting their teaching grace.

Work-life balance, a delicate tightrope to tread,
Nurturing students' well-being while their own is spread.
In the pursuit of equilibrium, an ironic juggle,
Teaching others to thrive, their own balance a struggle.

Outcomes become paramount, their value held high,
Yet the process of learning can sometimes pass by.
Prioritizing scores over growth and lifelong skills,
Oh what an irony, neglecting the learning thrills.

In the world of teaching, ironies abound,
Navigating the contradictions, often profound.
But amidst these challenges, educators endure,
Oh what an irony, their passion remains pure.
For wonderful teachers out there
Scilla B Apr 12
I was mad at my friend,
I started missing my foe.
Didn’t let that door hit me on the way out.
Every poem burned stopped me from being cold,
Still kept a few in case I had to read some aloud to you.
You were holding me, frozen.

What goes around comes around.
Scared to countdown the minutes.
Slight, passive attitude
It’s silent, we’re dancing.
When it comes to my feelings,
His nose doesn’t stop growing.
Innocent liar,

Shooting star, does he ever dream of me?
His ear is by my lips,
His lips are on my shoulder.
When this poem ends,
It’s all over.

He is getting warmer.

My dear Karma – Do I hurt you like you do me? – Am I beautiful or am I comfortable?”

He melts.
Pinocchio will never tell me.
A love that has ended but is being held onto for comfort. Pinocchio is a projection from the partner who can't seem to move on for personal growth. The goodbyes are never harsh- just too calm to let go.
m lang Mar 9
i told you my greatest fear,
and you made it come true.

does that say more about me,
or more about you?

- m lang
I S A A C Dec 2022
your name is irony
you were bound to bleed
cut my sisters and me
i thought you were family
you corrected me
you don’t have the capacity

i thought i was mentoring you
i thought i was beneficial
you were using me for all i could give you
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2022
Weather balloon for a hat
propeller on his back
morning is observably alive

leaving it to atmospheric pressure

he consumes today's newspaper
with the enthusiasm of a bowl
of Corn Flakes

this Heath Robinson contraption
of getting to work first
over enemy lines
is all the rage in his satirical
state of mind

that is until the absurd derailment
of wartime employment

and so he returns home with tubes
and catheters attached to his body
and feeling like one
of the unwieldy machines
he had so often created

full of atmospheric pressure

and apparently thinking it
an undignified fate
he pulls out the tubes
and quietly dies
of his own invention

ARI Aug 2022
It’s such an odd irony
For me to be legally responsible
For lives of strangers
When I can barely keep my own heart beating

The irony that I fill hospitals
With heart broken patients
Whose self-hate has come to life
Leaving trails of loathing etched into their skin

When I fight daily
To keep those thoughts at bay
And my smile so perfectly practiced
Few could even fathom I would ever want to…. Stop

I’m ok; simply letting off steam
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