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What are we, but uncivilized and irrational, for wanting comfort in what we wear?
And yet, Who are we, in defining our status through clothing, announcing our wealth on golden watches and expensive shoes?
Is it truly fair to judge someone based on the quality of clothing?
How do we know this to be true?
My thoughts on school uniforms and restrictions
Maria Etre Nov 2018
(You)niform:
Remaining the same in all cases;
consistent; steady
Xaela San Jul 2018
He is trully a brave protector indeed

Neither rain nor shine there he stand

And with the pain of sun and heat

Still he maintains his composure


Everyday he brings hope and protection

As citizen and policeman of this nation

Even if a lack of sleep hinder his stand

Wearing his uniform makes him proud


And later at sunrise he goes home

Looking down on his little angels

Sleeping peacefully in their own dreams

And imagining their bright future


Yet he still sacrifice his life for us

He is trully a brave protector and a father.
I am proud of you Dad
İlayda Korkmaz Feb 2018
As I was climbing the steps,
Today after school…
I felt a pang of claustrophobia,
Despite being outdoors…
As I watched the herd of students in uniform,
Both in clothing and in conversation…
I felt scared.

Because I was a part of that herd.
One which mindlessly spent its days,
Spent,
In accordance to the routines of the society,
Their personalities among other things.

All those kids,
In preparation for standardized tests,
Had become standardized as well…

They were forced to fit a mold,
For so long, that they didn’t have to be forced anymore,
And it had all happened so quickly, just like the way mold covers food,
And it had come to seem so permanent, just like patina covering brass,
Hiding the quirks and the character of the statue for all eyes to see, through corrupting it.
They had turned fit to false ideals.

The stair was full of black coats,
As if to make the uniforms even more uniform.

And even the rare spring-like winter day,
Hadn’t made me want to break the routine that day,
To run away into a field
(If I could find a field in the concrete jungle,
The one that I hadn’t yearned to desert just yet,
Though I should’ve made any place my field, anyways.)
And to dance & lie among wild flowers,
Each one unique and not uniform at all.
Even the trees around the stairs looked one and the same,
But how could the system curb even,
The one thing supposed to be unrestrainable,
The uncurbably roaring nature,
To bend it in its will against diversity.
Just like it had done to us…

But then I saw kids playing in the soccer field,
Not a field of flowers, but a field nevertheless
They did seem to be thinking differently,
Their laughs didn’t resemble each other’s
So it was growing up which had made us like that,
A premature maturity,
Which would be premature even at the age of eighty,
(If it could even be considered maturity)
Which had stripped away our individuality,
And had made us a homogeneous flood, sweeping away all identity

And I still am a captive of the desperation that had taken a hold of me in that brief glance,
I still don’t know what to do,
Humanity, help me,
Aid me in melting these cages,
Through the heat of the stars presents in your minds as well as your hearts,
To recover individuality.

For I refuse to give up,
And to loose myself in the flood
So in my school, in order to reach the school buses you have to climb a bunch of steps which border a line of trees, and it's a pretty crowded school so when I saw all the identical people  ahead of me it seemed like too much and I was genuinely scared
M Feb 2016
Every time I see men in uniform
I'm reminded of how you threw your life away
Willed yourself a killing storm
Leaving me with nothing to say

I believe in reincarnation
Someone will pick your soul out
Of the trash filled mountain, making of you a new creation
And I hope- no. I know without a doubt

You will be a flea.
Rob Kingston Oct 2015
From Amiens upon the Somme
Across the land into the Salient
Our brave men toed the ebbing line

Through wire and mines
Through mud and blood
Through many men and horses shred
Under sun and moon
Through wet and flake
Little rest they won as they fought
The testing yards and inching miles

The scent of death clear in their heads
Their nostrils burning from hell resent
Cauterised wounds some munition singed a deathly end for some
Their eyes by night a blazing fired earth of blues Oranges yellows Reds

Their ears ringing whistles and drums
A sense of booming dread as all around the melee continued
Death by death, Man by man, Son by son
Precious sons many in numbers they did succumb
To the battle cry of walk not run

Blood curdling in their gas filled lungs
Fungi in their rotting boots
Sweat and tears in itchy suits
Muscles aching tendons taught
Nerves for some as they were next
To mount and face the hidden land
Where fate would deal its dreaded blow
On to meet the dreadful wall of death

Choice was none, no turning back
They stood as force though force would guide, those of fear and wisdom's stand,
Over, or rest where shot by those by order for descent


© Robert Kingston 17.10.14
B Nov 2014
My jersey is worn
My pants are torn
My pads are busted
My joints are rusted
My shoes are old
My gloves were sold
My gear is out of date
My helmets not so great
I may not be the norm
But I still wear my uniform
Brittany Zedalis Oct 2014
radio playing, laughter transforms
into screams, metal crunching and
closing in, a flash of red hair,
or is it blood

the smell of dirt and smoke,
hands pull me from the wreckage,
covered in crimson water that
is not my own

            searching eyes and choked shrieks,
            where are they, where are-

face-down, still, twisted into
unnatural positions, unconscious,
the deafening screams are my
own, falling to my knees

helpless, seeing red but not in
anger, somewhere an ambulance
arrives, parents and bystanders
watch with unwavering fear

            they scream for their mother, and
            she is not breathing anymore-

uncontrollable shaking, a breath is
finally taken, but the battle is not won,
rushing, bright lights, tears and mud
staining my cheeks

she can only see shadows, his neck
is broken, another scream, a phone goes
off in the next room, a man in uniform
takes my hand and doesn't let go
Published: http://madswirlspoetryforum.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-best-of-mad-swirl-062114.html

Feature and Interview with Me: http://people-are-amazing.com/seize-the-day/

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