#graduate
We are but extensions of our higher selves, we are whole parts of the whole. The fractals of god expand throughout collective consciousness.
God is an eternal creation.
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 8:33 AM UTC
The home where Chella grew up, in the ghetto of Liberty City Florida, had beige carpets so old that pieces of the tuft and twirl would come out of the backing under-foot.
The apartment window shades were white floral plastic rectangles cut from an old shower curtain.
She shared a bedroom with two younger siblings and the overhead lights were naked light bulbs.
she grew up in the a noisome ghetto of Liberty City Florida
she never knew her dad
she won’t talk about her mom
she hated the flaw of things
nothing worked, not the dishwasher
or the air conditioner they couldn't afford to run.
There was no wi-fi for the no computer
Her mother worked two or sometimes three part-time jobs
They added rice to hamburger-helper to stretch it.
Maybe you got a pair of shoes for Christmas and chicken, not turkey.
They were poor, used clothes poor, food assistance poor, third world poor.
She got a used bike once, for Christmas. It was stolen.
At 14, she babysat for months to get a Rihanna mini-backpack.
It was stolen.
But they lived 2.5 miles from the beach.
It was a 53 minute walk. She couldn't afford the bus.
She knew not to hitchhike.
She kept a knife in her right front jeans pocket.
She studied at school or at the beach
She practically lived at the beach
Her wardrobe was a one-piece swimsuit under cut-off jean-shorts and flip flops.
What friends she had were at the beach.
A wino, who couldn't really talk, looked out for her at the beach because she once gave him a dollar.
One night he pulled a knife on a **** who was bothering her. The police came and took his knife.
“I’m SO sorry,” she told him, “I’ll get you another one,” but he mumbled in his incomprehensible way, and waving the idea off, he shuffled over to a garbage can, and leaned it up to reveal eight other knives under it.
We were looking at some of our high school pictures together and we realized that my designer, high-school freshman prom-dress that I bought with my allowance ($6,000, on sale, with no fitting) cost more than her mom’s car.
.
.
*A mini playlist for this:
Baxter (These Are My Friends) by Fred again.. & Baxter Dury
Runaway by Slick Rick
Redemption Song by Mitchell Brunings
Breakout by Swing Out Sister*
.
.
Our cast:
Chella - A tall, lithe black girl, from Liberty City (Miami) Florida with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs’ from Yale University who is currently a Harvard Master's candidate. She had it rough growing up - she was buying skin-care at Trader Joes! I'm showing her some things.
Your author, a simple trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia with a Bachelor of Science in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry from Yale, currently a Harvard Master's candidate.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC
Time to have some fun
12 years of school now done
Snooze you lose, time choose
Workforce calls each must decide
Slave to job paycheck career
Tanka
A form of Haiku
Differs in structure
31 syllables
Five lines
Syllable count
5-7-5-7-7
BLT Websters word of the day challenge
May 26 2025
Commemorate
Something such as a plaque, statue, or parade is said to commemorate an event, person, etc.
When it serves as a memorial; it exist or is done in order to recall the event or person. A person or group commemorate an event, person by doing something special in order to remember and honor the event or person.
Footnotes
Graduation ceremonies commemorate the moment when child becomes an adult. Two show they had graduated by the school standards. It should represent a competency to college and job placement and training. If college is an ecological step, your diploma is your ticket. To get into college. Representing 12 years of knowledge.
(Ok perhaps I’m jaded)
Welcome to the rat race
I would not want to be young today
Nobody wants to work
They want everything for free
Moral values are gone
After 12 years of school,
what skills do they have
United States have children
who graduate
without knowing how to read
As a nation
Our test scores are shameful
May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 3:50 AM UTC
When I have a degree,
with eyes open wide
to give back to society -
will you please consider me?
You don't have what it takes
You don't go to the right school
You don't score high enough
You won't work at ours.
I have work experience,
I am eager to learn more
I promise to work hard -
will you please consider me?
You don't have what it takes
You don't speak like a Native
You don't have our background
You won't work at ours.
I keep my head up high
for I am not giving up.
I may never be enough
but
I will -
LEARN
I will -
WORK
I will -
STRIVE
So just give me a chance.
Nov 14, 2021
Nov 14, 2021 at 2:55 PM UTC
I’m the most stereotypical teenager you’ve ever met.
I spend all my time with my friends.
I like frappuccinos and I’m obsessed
With my social media pages.
I fell in love with a boy;
And, when he broke my heart,
I sobbed on the floor for weeks
And then dyed my hair blonde and moved on.
I wore a pretty blue dress and sparkly heels to prom.
I graduated at the top of my class,
President of the honor society,
Friends with everyone.
I’m your stereotypical teenage girl.
I’m the main character in a Disney channel original movie.
I have everything, I think.
Why can’t I sleep at night?
What they don’t tell you in the movies
Is that when I’m not with my friends, I feel lost and alone.
When I was heartbroken, I fell apart.
I’m successful, but at what cost?
The stereotypical teenage girl gets 3 hours of sleep a night.
I spend most of the night doing work,
But I also spend time texting my friends and flirting with boys.
When I’m alone with only myself, do I still fit the stereotype?
Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 2:34 AM UTC
I was always so mad that you wouldn't be able to see me graduate with my class.
I did'nt have to worry about that though, since we graduated alone.
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 9:03 PM UTC
The blossom floats to the ground
It hits so violently all of hell shakes
Heaven gazes wordlessly from above,
Watching our actions, judging us.
One eye follows our every move,
Waiting for failure; maybe I'll never graduate
Let's wander past old brick buildings
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 7:05 PM UTC
On the day I first met my diploma
We did not know what to say but I swear
The moment I reached to steal my small prize
A faint salty breeze stood quiet in the air
Restless feet find the shore and pause for moments
The stubborn clamor behind me will rest
Despite crude plans tacked on imploding walls
Instinct takes command, my body turns west
Soothing cries from below hurl their last pleas
My legs march desperately through the waves
There is no escape for those who don't charge
Away from the pleasures they've known as slaves
What was before only spoken by loved ones
Sits in bold against the pale white paper
A voice in a bubble floats toward my ears
With a language unkown it screams not to waver
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
What's the smallest living being on earth?
a graduate of music school
First class degree won with some leeway
but that can't pay for my MOT, no way
four hundred and thirty seven quid and 26p to pay
for new suspension ball joints and wishbone, wiper blades and an emission test pass grade
and now my car has scraped a "pass with defects"
I hope someone made a wish as the old bone cracked
as they took it to the tip with the entire contents of my bank account
I wish I was back home again, scared to answer the phone again
but now every phone call I'm praying for a gig.
For nine grand a year I wonder how well she would do in the next few tests
if she'd have a long career ahead after a short rest or if she would still be run into the ground,
one day kicking the bucket at 90 miles an hour on the M4 back to Cardiff; I recently found
she won't quite make it to one hundred.
One hundred miles an hour!
Such power, so close, but no cigars for me any more - I can't even afford to smoke rollies.
When I'm seventy I'll start again
whether I want to or not, I need that one lifetime guarantee.
If I make it to seventy.
Hopefully boredom, rejection and ************ aren't causes of early mortality.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 7:54 AM UTC
At only 18 years old;
He was a Jack of all trades
Had the passion of blazing flames.
The free-spirited heart of a dove.
Debating skills that reached high above.
Athletic gifts that even the most talented could adore.
A witty personality that was hard to ignore.
Smatter than most I've ever known.
Reckless with a charm that was hard to condone.
Courage that surpassed the bravest.
Achieved the highest, and came back the greatest.
Friendly as if he had all the love to give.
Always smiling,
leaving everyone breathless.
Conner binded a small community together before and after his departure.
He may not be here with us to pray, but he can be here to guide us along the way.
No doubt in my mind is Conner going to give up so easilly.
If his legacy stays, so will he.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
I sat on decaying desks of reflection.
My homework, write a moment
of life that meant the most.
But this is a theory of retrospective
collections, tattered and loosely fitting.
Writing in faded inks of yesterday.
Everything I'd wrote was a failure,
never amassing a page of meaning.
I knew I wasn't a graduate of life.
Mostly a D minus in the accomplishments of what
I could have wrote. But instead I just
dodged classes and ended up a failure.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
Walk the stage without a care,
Present your speech with a bit of prayer,
Throw your cap up in the air,
And show up anyone who ever dared
To tell you the opportunity wasn’t there,
Because you did it.
Congratulations, class of 2018!
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 4:52 AM UTC
I came here and hoped
to find something meaningful.
I did and I didn't.
Even if I didn't find my life
I did knew something divine
surrounded my mind.
All of things, all of lives
provoked me to see
how beautiful days had been.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 8:39 PM UTC
I stare out the window of my usual spot
Sitting here at jack, thinking for naught
In about two years i will have graduated.
Excluded from this world with which i have Become infatuated.
It’ll all be over.
And these are the best years of your life
What will i say i did, or learned?
How many important things will come to mind?
I sit Here alone now.
Suddenly feeling so alone
Both at school and home.
What happened to the dramatic final bow?
Will i feel This alone the rest of my life?
Will it ever change
Or will it always stay the same.
I feel Like I’ve been stabbed with a knife.
My future that I’ve looked forward to for so long
Only a trace, a taste, the rest is gone.
Time seems to move too fast.
Or maybe I’m just stuck in a trance.
16 years come and gone.
To do it all over again, my soul yearns and longs.
But i can Only admit I’ve done this to myself
My hiding away on the high up shelf.
I left When i got Attached,
Being able to stay is something I lack.
So yes i am Alone,
Both at school and at home.
But I’ve brought this upon myself
So I’ll deal with this hell in and of itself.
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 6:10 PM UTC
disguised as just another day in your working school life,
but this one is not the same.
this was your last first day in this town.
start to think how to say your final goodbye to your friends.
finish all your teenage petty ******** that you want to leave behind.
start to think about what you want to do for the rest of your life.
finish all your procrastinated tasks just to graduate.
everything happens for a reason but what you don't know is that you're the reason.
you are the only reason why you do everything.
you can play it off on someone around you but you know that it was up to you the entire time.
but you can't brush it off anymore because this is your final year.
that means you have to take responsibility and grow the **** up.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Attentive eyes
and nervous jitter,
trembling hearts
await their fate
barbaric practice
of modern acceptation
fear is faced
in university fashion
Navy blue professor,
of conductor hands
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
Elation
Graduation
Ive succeeded
Ive defeated my demons
And summond the evils that pestered me
Just to **** in front of them gleefully
Im animalistic im my celebrations
I think i should plan a vaction
Im drunk on the joy of succeeding
I've not just bested my goals,
Ive superpassed them
And now ill end my day
With the widest grin
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
slap the box and
call me poison-us-
with fight songs,
not our trees.
The leaves fall
halo-like the root
ground angels that
they are.
Thats something
im gonna say I remember
tires, pavement and small
wet kisses.
Tired, paying and seams
of brain, hitting the floor
dancing. Dancing.
Dance, prance, stamped
on the back of my neck,
nicknamed. Self-proclaimed.
And,
I probably wont remember your name.
The game is in the tough turf,
rough birds, reads yellow on
red, branded
Crimson at birth.
I heard it the first time…
Denny Chimes. I got
soul,
but I am not sold, here.
You no arts kid.
You ***** breathed skid.
You ******* no color bid.
You wise eyed pig.
coonass roux grit rig.
pompous junk drunk jig.
keg king fit for fear fig.
God is in the pavement,
and the Bible is on my belt.
And I cant STAND the fact that
you need help.
roundin up the wheels
of my drinks in hand
till the cows don't come home.
I dont want to be alone,
sing till the loam becomes sand.
And its quick,
to fall far from plan.
You're skinny and you misstep,
but I kept the ideas on head,
not a.
I walked down that sidewalk,
liked I owned the place.
And I did,
when I was not the case…
I screamed at your window,
a few months later.
I hope you heard me.
I DONT CARE IF YOU’RE A STAR!
did you hear me?
My skin may bubble,
but its not allowed to scar.
And it doesnt
because I said so.
If I could go back,
I would heal from you.
Blue.
Loves in
two,
more
than
two…
less than two.
One.
One decision I did not make,
changed my fate.
a date.
Now labeled and baited.
again and again
and again.
Tell me of my sins.
I wanna smash that
bullet between your ears.
Its been jamming around for years.
You wanna root my fears
in what is up here, perhaps
appears
before mirrors.
shards halfway into you,
we broke through and became one.
Tears, terrors,
and pinkie swearers before God
(waittryitagainImeanit)
BEFORE GOD…
I love you.
Above all,
I adore you.
implore you,
to see this,
in true
living
lovers.
Count my confessions
one
two
three
its too many to say
what I ran from,
but,
I can name the cracks
in the concrete
four
five
six
I didn't pick up any
thick licks of honey
ringing the horns that
sounded the years
of long bad ticks.
I don’t have
any
new tricks
seven
eight
nine
im fine
ten
and I've hurt you again.
Thats a lie and I just might win.
sly over there, a violin of concocted *** coils
of Cmon— let me hear that again.
Your songs are lucid and the spit is acid.
Thats why I became his main assettttttttttttttt
tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt
t t talk is cheap
but my body is cheaper…
You looked at me that way,
spinning my hay for whats its worth
and at least
you fed it to your horses.
everything runs its courses,
the forces
carry my wheels packed with my life
in a bag.
Jet lagged from flights to hell
and back-packed ready
to see my God in the pavements— away close to home
with the Bible on my belt.
I felt
the tilted welt
split its rock
and crumble tumble down my throat
into my gullet
swift like velvet, memories tell it…
That my fiction is now Non,
and the friction is gone—down the road
with me.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:41 AM UTC
We fought this war together
Standing side by side through thick and thin
Surviving this prison as a team and family
Saving one another from the hell that existed in our lives
But now... That time has to come to an end
Now we walk our own paths
Experience our own adventures
Live our own lives
It is hard to believe that we are all going our separate ways now
That we are actually saying farewell after these long years
When you think about it's actually kind of sad
Because though we hate to admit it,
We will miss each other
But at the end of the day we all can just say one thing
Class of 2016...
***** WE MADE IT
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
Release me from the present
so i can jump
full stop
into the future
even if it scares me
at least
it's better than this
unbalanced
equilibrium
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
Morality isolates and fenders bend.
Circumference learns, “half-way” but fails to take the name
“Radius,”
And when she lay a meter nigh
With child, my child;
I still and will feel horribly alone.
Curse my iron fist and rusts the middle knuckle,
When another weeps, not for I, not for you but the gods assumed,
“Heaven,”
And 3 floors above my own;
Tucked lies the pain, regret fills fetal;
I still and will feel horribly alone.
So comes the autumn, the fire prior, “Styx,”
Upon borders that could only separate, “fatherhood,” so partitioned,
“Winter,”
And 3 floors below her own –
A pillar wrought persistence and abandoned, my hedonism;
I still and will feel horribly alone.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC