"aps" poems
Take my hand, friend
just for a sec-
let's leave this ****** land of
SATs, PSATs, APs,
and college admission essays and guidance counselors
and homework and pop quizzes and exams and whatever else-
behind.
Let's be two again.
Let's make Pringle-chip-duck faces
and grin with orange peel smiles-
I'll paint my nails yellow and we'll read Dr. Seuss with British accents
in the dimming light of the old
falling-down fort of pillows and blankets (that's almost too small for us)
Let's pretend
Let's pretend
Let's pretend
That we've never seen the glowing screen of
televisions, computers, IPods,
that we haven't spent weeks wearing down our thumbs on text messages.
Let's forget fights over boys that weren't even all that hot.
Let's sit in my yard and eat raw cookie dough behind my momma's back
And make too-sweet fresh lemonade, and blow dandelions
(into other neighbor's yards, of course)
Spray garden hoses at each other
and laugh and scream and giggle and make mud-pies.
Let's make twenty different secret handshakes,
Eat wild raspberries and hide sticky fingers
And pinky promise- again and again- BFFs forever.
Let's lose ourselves in the bliss of childhood
just one more time- please.
Just in case Peter Pan decides to visit.
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 7:40 PM UTC
this is a poem about love,
not boys, for once, or lesbians –
but roomie love.
my roommate is my other half,
like when we were little and chewed halves of gummy bears to make two-flavored ones with different colored heads and feet.
3:30 am on a Monday night,
all of our classes the next day, no homework done –
who else will stay up with me to read over each other’s oldest emails,
all disgustingly useless,
all marked as “sent with high importance”
who else will write poetry with me in the looming shadow of Chemistry tests
help keep the Spring terms exams and US History APs at bay
with jokes that aren’t funny but I laugh at anyways
because you are stupid and you think they are –
and everybody in the dorm thinks
we are insane, but that’s okay with me because we have
enough inside jokes to live on for a year
and
each other
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
That look.
That look. It has kept me up, got me through.
You desired me.
Where did it go?
Is it me? Was it you?
The something that was there for so long
it seems.
You saw me, and wanted me anyway.
Or thought you did.
Has it really gone?
Where do I put my sadness?
Do I pour it back into myself, through the cuts in
my skin from my vicious words?
Of course he went off me.
He saw me.
Or do I blame you?
User. Liar. Wanter. Coward. Weak.
Or do I just find a way to live with the sadness
that we wanted each other but couldn't
have each other. You weren't mine to have, even
if you wanted to be.
So where has it gone? Our connection, our
attraction, our lust and hope?
It stays with me as the lump in my throat when
I think of our diverging futures.
As the silent goodnight I say to the side which
has now become 'yours'.
As the dream-you who visits me often.
As the hope I cling to for 'one day'.
But not this day.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
IN THE MEMORY OF APS ATTACK
MATLOOB BOKHARI
I read with sorrow the pages of history
The stories of atrocities by cruelest men
History is weeping like rain in telling me
It is not new innocent blood, it is very old blood
Yesterday they killed little boys with big arrows
Today they are killing babes with deadly bombs
Eternal is the glory of the memory of Hussain
Deep desires of Yazeed are despaired in darkness
APS= ARMY PUBLIC SCHOOL
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
ICU Waiting Room in Advent
Artistic gilded deer repose in peace
Among the store-room-dusty plastic leaves
Of decorator-decorated wreaths;
From thence they gaze serenely down upon
Sneeze-spotted pics in People magazine
And empty coffee cups recyled from
Recycled natural fibers recycled
From green fair trade recycled soy inks.
No ikons grace this dying-place, no cross,
No crucifix to focus farewell prayers;
Christ’s people gather lovingly around,
Their baseball caps thrall-ringed about their heads
In devout remembrance of passing souls.
Their cell-phone aps pass through their vague, weak eyes
As once the ancient biddings and prayer-worn beads
Slipped gently through the lips and hands of men.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 4:37 PM UTC
why does
the world have
to look so
beautiful sometimes...
sunlight filters
through trees
kids fling water
up from the creek
to catch light in air
in my ear
smooth
spanish
groove
and it all
makes me
want to cry
because i can't appreciate
a moment
everything beautiful
is so f l e e t i n g
everything hard
and hateful
lingers
and sticks
you can't just
******* have something
good.
you can't.
during a melt
d
o
w
n
in college
i saw a counselor
that told me to face my fear of
the worst possible events happening
use my voice to project the probabilities out loud
would i lay down and die? doubtful. say what you would do.
it doesn't seem so bad when it's specific...
it's a cloud of random doom that seems unthinkable.
you realize it's all do-able
a little at a time
you will survive
but now
that is where i live
in the
subterranean gloom
with well thought through
foreknowledge of the worst
possible events
and my likely
miserable reactions
so i watch my life
c oll Aps e
and i want to
laugh hysterically
**** you. **** you. **** you. and **** you.
what the **** am i supposed to do?
reinvention is jolly,
they say
Ha!
Bah - it was just a job
another will just POP up
any moment
HA!
*(someone seriously help me,
i'm laughing so hard i'm choking)*
Gah!
who needs a mate?
not me!
solitary confinement
sure pumps out poetry
in extreme quantity,
this i will confess
solitude is good
i like quiet
music
movies
writing
reading
wine
but pray tell,
do you realize
how many hours
there are
in
one
*******
day?
when your purpose is
torn from you?
and you are left to wander
the earth alone
to find a new life mission
or the least miserable substitute?
have you felt the
gut-wrenching longing
alone in bed
in
(utter silence)
night
after
night
after
night?
not for love past
but for love new
for lust
for touch
to not feel alone
in the world
at times
i feel like a
person made of
the thinnest glass
with some nasty creature
perched on my shoulder
laughing horribly
sharpest pin always touching me
hammer always raised in the air
ready to strike.
whatever.
you're going to tell me everything is going to be fine, right?
yeah.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
IN THE MEMORY OF APS ATTACK
MATLOOB BOKHARI
I read with sorrow the pages of history
The stories of atrocities by cruelest men
History is weeping like rain in telling me
It is not new innocent blood, it is very old blood
Yesterday they killed little boys with big arrows
Today they are killing babes with deadly bombs
Eternal is the glory of the memory of Hussain
Deep desires of Yazeed are despaired in darkness
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
WhiTe
,
you
are a
fine colour
you are a fast
colour.youarethe
morning i found U
sleeping in slump and
polished heather with rust
gilding just the morsels O'
your canny fist of petals
who hides in splendor
ed morning's vest pr
icking up your glos
sy neck to rub you
r cheeks on the fe
lt of gorgeous b
rinded sky. U
wHitE, you
are the ve
ry lust O'
faries
you R
light
and heavy
frolicking wo
men as with th
eir skin you pain
t they stark and w
ith just their morse
ls very slightly ro
sy rouged and r
osy slightly he
aps of hips o'
roses and
heather:
URwhIte
May 10, 2011
May 10, 2011 at 9:59 AM UTC
It's not about interest, it's how you place
Your classes are weapons in an arms race
Your friends are taking two APs, so you take three
Soon we're mired in college work when high school is all we see
Counselors don't help, they only edge us on
Telling us we need advanced levels, or all college spots are gone
In Fairfax County, we score so high on tests
We ignore our thirty three percent depression and say we're the best
Because here all that matters is the grade on your transcript
You're a factory product, another computer chip
So if you're friend takes five college courses, take seven
After a semester, beg mercy and give up on heaven
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
It's a blessing
I can do online school
Classes I can't take here
Classes I'm 'too young' to take
Helps me with college when there are no APs
Until it's a curse
When I can't do online school
Because the internet's bad
Things are late
Because they expect the internet to work
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 1:07 AM UTC
Since March of last year On You
Tube I have been captivated by this amazing man.
Please Check It Out.
After Prison Show.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC