Here the thunder as the storm clouds gather,
Then see the brightness as the light flashes,
From its inner womb,
That gives it the greatest visual detail,
Which soars up in its different shades,
As it columns upward to the Infinite Heavens.

Feel as the wind gusts and blows a damp cool air across your face,
And also through your fingertips,
As you stretch your arms out and twirl around,
And like a sponge… you soak it all in.

Smell the freshness of the air,
That the storm has brought as it had passed,
Feel the dampness of the tree bark,
As your hand slides down the rough and smooth sides of that tree,
Smell the moss and grass that fragrance the air,
With their water-bathed fresh scent.

Hear the water dripping off the leaves,
As the droplets merge together,
Then slide towards the tips and edges of each leaf,
Then fall onto the soil and vegetation filled ground.

Hear the birds sing,
The fogs croak,
The bees hum,
And so much more,
Following the passing of the storm,
And the dawning of a new day.

Remember the feelings you feel as you do so,
The emotions you express,
The experience you had as it all took place,
Then remember these words…

The gathering of the storm, was like the gathering of the feelings that stressed upon my heart, year after year, building a vast volume of dammed feelings and burst emotions… as it filled the reservoir of my heart. The day I told you how I felt, was similar to when the storm had passed, the pressure was off, regardless of what would come next, and all I could feel was the Awesomeness of the experience… the Relief of the moment, and the deep impact you made upon me. After it was all over, and I spilled out my heart to you, I sensed the change in me, like the change in nature after the storm… it was like a breath of fresh air, when you smell the scent of rebirth.

Along with the last moment to complete any homework,
one was instructed to etch name, number and form
upon the tag that lurked within the rim of each new polo shirt,
every pair of trousers and that stretched, sleeved jumper
(better than any other in the house that were just the same).
Without those legal details properly stated you’d run the risk of losing them to lost property,
that orchestrated tub, dead sea stench, of pre-pubescent potpourri.

Now, all we wear is the earned income of a bestowed cognomen
and it embellishes the backs of our necks
and we mustn’t forget it’s all we have;
that, and our teachers.

An open letter to teachers
I love learning
You make think that’s odd considering the blank look I have on my face every lesson
But it’s true
However when you put me in a room of thirty other kids I don’t get along with
Or don’t like learning too
It kinda kills the mood
Whilst learning definitions is important and I understand
You’ll forgive me for looking out of the window for a few minutes before tuning back in
You’re just as bored as me I know
But of course you’ll never let it show
After all
Your class is the most important of them all
Thirty minutes of homework a night at least
I study 6 other subjects
Each of them requiring at least thirty minutes too
That’s three and a half hours of work a night
Plus eight hours of school
That’s a twelve hour work day
So you’ll forgive me for yawning in your class
Afterall I stayed up til 12am the night before doing the work you set me
No of course not
How dare I yawn in your lesson?
That’s right it is incredibly rude
It is my fault I stayed up so late the night before
Doing work that you set me
How dare I?
I apologise

I love learning
But I don’t like sitting in a room of 150 other kids doing an exam
Spending three nights before fitting into my head all that I could cram
So I could have you stand over me and watch me as I write
Or the giant dreaded clock counting down from 100 to 0
Each minute going faster as I struggle to calculate how many times 0 goes into 100
Asking a question that can’t be answered
“You won’t be able to ask questions in real life”
That’s odd because my work place embraces asking questions
On the bottom of every sheet saying ‘ask the manager if you don’t know how to do these jobs’
But that’s not the real world
Part time work is not the real world
Flipping burgers at Maccas is not the real world
But it seems pretty real to me

I love learning
When I was 8 loved to do maths
Triangles and squares and circles it all came naturally
Then you started implying that maths was a boy’s area
That only boys do well and boys can succeed
I lost that love
Took a left turn at maths and English lane
Whether that was the best or worst choice I’ve ever made I’m here now
A poet who can count to 100 in threes languages but can’t make sense of the letter x
What’s it doing there?
Isn’t maths just numbers?
Are English and maths crossing over?
No
X and represents everything and 1 all at once
Just like how the conch symbolises law and order?
No
It’s just a number
A number that needs to be worked out
Ten lines at least to work out x
A million different solutions and trial and error will not be one
It’s the cheat’s way out
The girl’s way out

I love learning
My maths teacher taught me to love maths again
My English teacher taught me English was not just a constellation
My drama teacher taught me drama is so much more than the stage
But maybe this is all too late
Because when I’ve spent my life waiting to fall in love with maths again
My love for maths was lost
My love for learning was lost
My drive is lost
I love learning
But not as much as I used to

I don’t trust most teachers
Not because they give us homework or test
But because they claim to be our guide
To help us in school and life
They practically beg us to come to them
But when someone finally gets the courage to ask for help
Teachers laugh them off
Or say they’re too busy

They preach lies and expect us to accept it
They are so filled with self-pride
That they can’t see the pain they bring to others
Too many kids have left classes crying
Feeling as though they aren’t worth anything
Because when they turn stuff in
The teacher looks at it
And hands it back with a smile and says
It’s not worth a grade

Teachers are meant to be examples
But I can’t trust a single word that comes out their mouths
You don’t wanna be here
I don’t wanna be here
So why make us both suffer

Teachers deceive students into thinking they care
They’ll stay after school to “help you”
But once the going actually gets tough they bounce
Why would us students ever trust a liar like that?
I’m still waiting for all their pants to catch on fire

Don’t tell me I’m too young to be upset
How would you feel if all you’ve known for 12 years was a lie?
My words and feelings are important
But teachers have trained us to believe other wise
I don’t understand why you want us to be this way
Maybe because it’s too much fun to see our smiles fall to the ground
Rather than raising them up to the sun
I’m not asking for the moon and the stars
Just peace and a smile

Too many days I want to cry
When the bell rings before that one class
Because that class doesn’t have a lesson plan
It has a plan for destruction
Counting the smiles that walk in
And the tears that storm out

Now don’t get it twisted
There are some good teachers out there
Maybe one or two
But you and I both know the bad outweighs the good
Sometimes the darkest hole of despair is more comfortable
Than these beige brick walls
I rather be alone
Then be surrounded by enemies I am not allowed to fight back

So if you ask me why I don’t trust these teachers
It’s because my momma always told me
Never believe anyone that smiles in your face
And tells you a bold face lie

Teachers at my school don't understand, why in the world would your anti-depressants make you be confused?
They think I should be confused about algebra or what the word agate means.
They don't think that I have my problems, they don't think someone as happy as me would self-harm.
They say I'm a good student, they don't know me.

Clinking of ink bottles
Scratching of quills
Rustling of paper
Pouring out knowledge

Sweating students
Angry teachers
Swatting of fleas
No more patience

Old mad bat suddenly
Shouting
"Bring me the earmuffs!!"
Laughing, crying, farting

Interupting the quiteness
"Why would you ask that?"
Principal Harpy asks
"Surely it isn't winter"

"Goodness me, have I said that out aloud?"
"I take it back!"
"Kindly continue with your exams"
But no matter, nothing was the same.

Savage teachers
education preachers
their "funny" jokes
and words that provoke
a reaction from the class
won't make us fail or pass
but they keep us entertained
they should have been comically trained

1.) i don't want another kid to feel the same way i did.

2.) some kids just really want to be hugged and told that they are loved.

3.) some kids need to know that someone cares about them.

4.) some kids are too sad that they become misunderstood—

5.)—i want to understand.

6.) i want kids to grow up not thinking that they wanted to die every time they woke up.

8.) i want kids to understand that violence will never be the answer—

9.)—nor is self-harm—

10.)—and most especially, not suicide

11.) i want kids to grow up feeling happy with themselves even though the adults around them can't.

12.) i want kids to grow up thinking that they are beautiful and worth every single breath they are given.

13.) i want kids to accept themselves for who they are, not for what their parents want them to be.

14.) i want kids to learn how to love not only others, but especially themselves.

15.) some kids struggle to trust the people around them because of adults (who are supposed to reassure them and make sure they are safe).

16.) living *****, and kids especially need all the help they need.

17.) i want kids to feel hope inside of them—

18.)—to feel like they're living instead of simply existing.

19.) i want them to know that there is and always will be hope for them—

20.)—regardless of grades, race, gender, ****** orientation, age, physical appearance, clothes, hair color, piercings, etc., etc.—

21.) —because those things don't—shouldn't—matter to others at all.

22.) i want kids to feel and know that there is someone who wants to listen to them—

23.)—someone who isn't "too busy for their whininess and angsts".

24.) i want them to feel as comfortable as they are in their own bodies—

25.)—not want them to rip their eyeballs out of their sockets or to starve themselves until their weights drop faster than a rollercoaster because they "weren't good enough".

26.) i don't want them to grow up thinking of "all adults are awful" as an amazing alliteration.

27.) i want them to know they are worth every single day they wake up.

28.) i want them to learn the meaning of "love"—

29.)—agape, most especially.

30.) i want them to believe in themselves.

31.) and i want them to keep on believing in this world.

(because we're all just people broken in many different ways trying to survive in this world, aren't we?)