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Ted Scheck Aug 2014
I'm on the road, but not
Actually on. A. Road.
Per se.
I avoid roads like cliches
Avoid plagues.

Fields are much better
Travel companions. As
If a lined-paper stretch of
hoed land could thought to be
Friendly to your feet, and knees,
And mind
Not that you traipse across it.
Specially
Corn. Inside corn fields is always
Maze-Y.
The Wind loves singing through
Discordant notes of thistle and
Thatsle; whatsle you'll hear
Musically is really up
To you.
But at night, the stars shining
Through the feathery filters of what is
More than knee-high by 7/4/whatever
Is a forget that's hard to memory.

Sleep in cornfields and you'll
Wake to the pleasant murmurings
(And nocturnal rustlings)
Of mice using your clothes
Body boots shaggy unkempt hair
For warmth. Sore neck, sore back,
Worth it, comically ship-jumping-so:
The little furry squeakers realizing the
Empty soft boat wasn't empty at all
And the critters abandoning you
With the flicker of tails, gone. A
Maze-ing.

Forests. Hmm...Temperate
Temperament. More
Crazies in the woods than amongst
Iowa's cash crop: 1 must B careful.
They generally want to be left A
Lone; I specifically avoid them, or
Will travel act like their long
Lost crazy cousin.
Just to fit
Out.

Small fires in copses of woods,
Huddled near flames, ears
Prickled for the sound of
Angels dancing on the pins of
Heads.

Occasionally, I tire of the peace of fields of
Green tassels and tall deciduous
Trees, and I hear cars, and imagine
I hear the conversations held within.
So I take my bottled strangeness out
Of seclusion and rejoin the race
Humana.
More often than not, I meet up with
The Angry.
They congregate in coffee houses.
Huddle in hostels.
Mob motels.
You get the jpeg.
The Angry desire to
Do what I do by second nature, and
By nature, first. I've thrown off my
Self-imposed chains, and walk free.
They see this - in me - or see the magic
Dust my boots tracked all the way across
Their own barren linoleum flo.
They are trapped in their mind-traps.
The Angry would imprison me and
Masquerade as me simply for spite.
(If they could CATCH me, bwaa-haa!)

I walk quickly, lope along I80.
I hate to do this. It's Russian Roulette
With 6 bullets in 6 chambers.
But to get to the back roads, you some
Times have to travel the fore roads.
Troopers of State do NOT like
Peds on the road. But many of
Them, after stern sternly Drill-
Sergeanting you with their Smokey-
Bear hats, will drop you off to
Your destination. "Keep safe,
Sir." They intone with such
Seriousness that I'm always
Biting the insides of my
Mouth. They could use a
Few dewy misty nights
Slumbering in an Iowa
City cornfield, waking with
A brood of mice nestled in
your knapsack.

Food. There's an issue there,
For some. Not me - not then, not
Now. The future is only the future
When it's tomorrow. Candy bar
Smashed by a bike tire in the
Gutter? What, some puke-eating
Dog should have that? Gross.
Gross is grossly
Defined by how long you'd
Not eat when your food ran
Away. Since I have almost
Nothing except a small green
Canvas satchel and a larger
Knapsack of essentials
(A few tools, a fire-starter,
Water purifiers, and my pen and
Notebook) and my good...

...Boots and thick socks and 1-
Piece Union Suit and many
Layers I'm glad to have at
Night but make me sweat
Heavily in the sultry
Iowa summers, I eat on the
Fly. Sometimes I chase away
The Fly to munch on what
It munched. Gross.
It's a living, because moving
Is work, blessedly peaceful, yes,
But have you ever seen a fat
Walker? They either get skinnier
Or they expire. So I eat
Whenever and whatever and how
Ever.

Dumpsters. Garbage cans.
The backs of grocery stores.
I trade sudsy soapy pruned hands
For burnt pizzas and more bread
Sticks sticking to my stomach
Like doughy glue. People out
There - people alone in crowded
Rooms - will trade kindness and
Conversation for food they may
Have taken home with them, or
May have just thrown away.

Lowered
Expectations, skinny middle,
Sore feet, leg muscles wanting
To stay up and watch late-night
TV, swollen ankles eventually
Going to sleep with the rest of
The body as I'm huddled in a
Little snow cave in Iowa, or
Waiting a rain beneath an old
Wagon, or bunking with my
Mice-buddies in an old barn.
There's a lot of life out there,
A skinny man with long, blonde,
And usually ***** hair, sweaty,
Smiling, eyes bright, nostrils flaring
At the scent of humanity: a
Peaceful Mind wandering
Around the belly-button of
America.
Familys ******* can ya hear em?
Uncle larry's probaly gonna puke dont get near him.
I kinda ****** up sight.
Someone get Bobby Joe outthe street cause ya know he aint bright.

Christmas kinda blows around here.
So toss me a bottle and crack a beer.
Hey did anyone know how the tree caught fire?
No sweetie uncle Stan  isnt a down on his luck actor.
He's really a drug dealer and habitual liar.

Is egg nog supposed to have chunks.
No baby it's  not cool that your 13 on facebook asking
for pic's of shirtless hunks.

Great it's time to sit down to dinner
Yes sure is great Father O Malley showed up.
Who better to chasethe boys and drink up the whiskey
screaming at the hat rack it's a sinner.


Um it's hard to make snow Angels  on the concrete.
No your son isnt spoiled.
He's just wearing more than i make month with his
seven thousand dollar sneakers on his feet.

Grandma it's kiss  under the mistletoe   no  tongue.
Ya think grandpa would have slowed on the cigs after getting put in the iron lung.

Great a blizzard has snowed us all in. yippie im bunking  with Little Tommy tinkles  thats the way the holiday goes.
I think freezing to death doesnt sound so bad.
Lord how Christmas blows.
Kinda simple and sweet  yes im a grinch.
Enough said.
Sukanya Basu Dec 2014
Tommorow was the day
Yes I'd be married
My love, my life.
My dear wonderful wife.
Jessica, I have prepared my vows.
"Have you?" She asked with wide glistening eyes.
I thought I felt paradise.
She handed me her vows
And kissed me and I read
"Dear Jaden,
Remember how you tripped the moment you saw me?
I swear I never felt happy anymore in my life.
Remember the chocolates and your bunking classes?
Remember how you broke my window glasses?
Remember the sunset?
Remember us wild?
Remember how we kissed?
Remember how we cried
Oh my selfish selfish self!
I left my family
My room
My mothers touch
And now you are talking about vows...do they fit right?
I promise to love you as much as I do today night.
Relieve your pain, fix your tuxedo young man  because, I"ll be the one in white.
KZ Sep 2014
We are fooled youths,
Living in a corrupted society.
Where the boys try to play it smooth,
Leaving every girl with the dreaded anxiety.
Because we are fools,
In todays time.
Where the girls are now bunking from their schools,
And the boys start paying for their crime.
Hoping to change for the better.
When really all they need is a letter,
With their bad grades,
They turn to the trusted friend...
the blades.
Because they were too much of a fool,
To abide by one simple rule.
I don't really know.
I'm 14 and obviously I haven't experienced life...yet! But its hard.
But I'm turning 15 in a few days.
Very happy

Miss my childhood though
Please like comment or share!
~Khizara
Nonsense Feb 2011
Lifes blessings are so many.
Yet we forget to see.
The things we take for granted -
are those that set us free.

We wallow in our problems.
We give them place to breed,
till they have multiplied so much -
they've strangled every seed.

If we could only give as much,
attention to our joys.
The sun would chase the dark away -
and quieten all the noise.

Seeds of joy inside our souls,
need just the smallest spark.
To help them strengthen and to grow -
to banish all that's dark.

We stupid fools give all control,
to misery and to pain.
Sit back and let it swallow us -
till we almost go insane.

In those times of dark dispair,
we need to step aside.
And focus on that miniscule -
blessing we know we hide.

Once we find that ray of light,
in the abyss inside of us.
That ray will shine on other joys -
and question, 'why the fuss?'

The tests that life throws our way,
is never beyond our skill.
They're set with future tests in mind -
to stregthen soul and will.

You don't attempt to do your best,
and rather run and hide.
Hoping it will all be gone -
when you jump back on the ride.

Bunking tests is fine for now.
You've won 'cause you weren't caught.
But next weeks test will rely upon -
the lessons this one taught.

Bad as things may seem right now,
they feel like it's the end.
There's always little seeds of joy -
waiting to help you mend.

Don't concentrate on what you've lost.
Say thanks for what you keep.
You could have had a whole lot less -
for what we sow we reap.

Tend and nurture the seeds inside,
so you can learn and grow.
Your soul will be at peace again -
and your heart will surely know.
August 2008
Ikvaran kaur May 2020
You have boxes of cereals
I have boxes of crime,
Don't worry about it
I am not like that serial killer vine.

My boxes are not illegal
But regarded as trek,
I designate them as crime
Because it's done on beck.

The first crime is universal
Which is eating during a class,
And if you get caught
You will get a detention to pass.

Second needs a little courage
Which is bunking the lab,
And you will roam the whole school with friends
Without hiring a cab.

This crime is something planned
Distracting teacher from her study point,
Asking tales about their life struggle
Because we got bored from her english coined.

This crime is nothing less than others
Which is cheating during a test,
Not everyone will accept that
Because not everytime it did help them to score their best.

If you start to count them all
It will take your whole life to wind,
You created memories that are crime
Which you won't ever mind!
Harish S N Sep 2017
I sit alone in the night under the sky full of stars                          
reminiscing about my childhood and how good it was.  
Just a happy little guy who enjoyed playing in the dirt
despite knowing the fact mom would scold me for that.
Carefree because mom would take care of me on my behalf.
Heaven was nothing more than sleeping on my mom's lap.
My kind heart was filled with true love and pure thoughts.
My life was comprised of few tears and more genuine laughs.
I wonder why my childhood was so brief. It passed so fast.
I wish i could go back in time to relive that sweet past.

I sit alone in the night under the sky full of stars
recalling about my teenage life and how crazy it was.
I was young and energetic enough to fight in a war
but never saw the sunrise. That's how lazy i was.
An inexperienced and stupid kid, bunking the class
to experience his first kiss with the queen of his heart.
Night outs with my friends and chatting till the day dawns.
Promised "we shall be together whatever may be the odds".
I was more optimistic with bigger dreams in my bucket list
Ignorant enough to not know that everything falls apart.
Reality struck hard and caught me completely off guard
but I'll forever be grateful to the life lessons it has taught.

I sit alone in the night under the sky full of stars
contemplating about how my life of adulthood is hard.
The harsh realities of the world left me broken & jarred.
Maturity murdered my innocence & tore myself apart.
In a world, where deception is misconstrued as being smart,
it's hard for me to adapt when i blindly follow my heart.
So I learned to wear a facade and kept my real self locked
to let it suffer the fate of confinement like a caged bird.
I heard my inner voice desperately craving for my help.
Eventually, it stopped when i chose to ignore it like i never heard.
With a fake smile and fake life, everything seemed all right.
But when i looked inside of me, I realized that i've already died.

- Maverick.
Feel free to comment your valuable suggestions. I would be more than just happy if people would help me in improvising myself.
Rishabh Tiwari May 2019
Sorry, Engineering I failed you
Like everyone else standing in that queue.

Bunking classes thinking it was fun
Today I realized it was Summers sun.
Watching TV series, movies for feelin cool
Soon it became my life ruining tool.
Living in a dilemma that our life was dope
Now we don't have a single Ray of hope

life has became like an animal in the zoo
Sorry, Engineering I failed you.

Wasting the hard earned father's money
Thinking as it was our alimony.
Clearing the exams by studying before nights
Unaware of the circumstances of life's fight.

Now everyday feels like Monday blue's
Sorry, Engineering I failed you.

Texting,calling so called “friends for life”.
Today it's feel like falling on the knife.
Thought I would be the future pioneer
But today I am an worthless engineer.

Sorry , Engineering I failed you.
Like everyone else standing in that queue.
Satvik gupta Jul 2019
When i was young,
Had funny days.
Bunking the classes,
Each and every day.

Our school started off with the holy prayer,
Division, subtraction everywhere.
Next came,  the shakespeare,
Learning literature was a nightmare.

We were just dozing off.

Yay!!
The recess time,
Doin' nasty things
Creepy crimes.

Sweet couples enjoying their day,
We singles
Always prayed,

Last thing i remember
Was the fight between us
Smoking hard
Inside the bus.

I hope u will remember those days,
Let's meet on someday.
Do ya remember those days ,
Had funny names,
And creepy plays
ANUSHKA PANDEY Apr 2020
Empty, light and dull,
My school bag rests on one of the walls,
Once full with books notebooks and pens,
Now bear and deserted it looks small.

Yesterday, while clearing my shelf,
My class VIII classwork notebook popped up,
Those were also the days,
When our copies were neatly covered up.

These days I sleep late at night
because Now there is no waking up early rule,
These days I wake up at nine,
As now I am not running late for school.

My wardrobe is full of colourful shirts
But wearing the white one daily I miss,
No sport shoe can ever match
Wearing white PT shoes bliss.

While searching for a bowl I found my Tiffin,
But there was no lunch in it
Also there aren’t those people around,
Who jumped attacked and finished it within a minute.

I still hear the interval bell,
In front of my TV when I sit,
I still hear those gossips and laughs,
While finishing my meal, those several hands I miss.

I was bored of studying the subject,
But I had no water bottle to fill,
And no school corridors to take a round,
I realised it wasnt the fifth lesson in school,
So I quietly turned back to my musics sound.

Every time I doodle
I remember bulletin board
I remember my house duties
Every time my nail grows

It’s raining and snowing these days
But nothing is as fresh as sitting next to the window in the class
Blankets in Quilt dont allow us to get out of our beds,
But nothing is as cosy asSitting on the seat at the last.

Donning my new dress, I was getting my picture clicked,
But it wasn’t as special as our last seat selfie,
CCD’s coffee was also not able to,
Match the taste of a canteen’s tea.

I go out of my home several times,
But never does it match the bunking thrill,
I take various Scooty rides,
But never am I able to showcase my reach school within five minutes skill.

Every time I get a call from my classmate,
Our whispers I miss,
Every second every hour every day
For those days to return I wish

At 2:00 in the noon
I go to bed for my nap
I miss returning Home from school
I wish those days could be swapped..

Sometimes we don’t realise
How the smallest things have a large part to play
And as the days passed, and time flies by,
It’s only memories that we are left with to say.

Every single thing at home
Reminds me of school life
I want to relive those golden days
Just one more time.

A couple of months from now
We will officially be ex schoolites
Teachers scoldings punishments and failures
After that For every single moment we will strive.
A heartfelt from a 12thie
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
you realise that etymology
has no place
   in constructing a slang
   lexicon...
or can be derived from such
a branch of spreschen...
    bunking off...
     i.e. playing truant at school...
in poland that's in summary
with only one word -
                   wagary...
      see? etymology cannot penetrate
slang terminology...
     since slang is all about:
terminology, rather tha etymology...
**** me, i love the english version,
it's a verb, rather than a noun -
   bunking off...
      i.e. missing class,
                  or even a whole
day of school...
        it's above the verb-inside-a-noun
that's orthodox english,
   i.e. truancy...
           dissected?
                       playing truant;
and that horrid western slavic
  slang of:    vagary...
        i'm not even going to consider
an etymological focus
                     on the word...
                 wah wah wee wee,
moving philosophy outside
of the per se:
  you sometimes get a pronoun
inside a noun,
        or a verb inside a noun...
  or whatever cocktail might be
asserted, in the "atheistic"
   approach of disbelieving grammar,
was was already done,
   in the schoolyard,
                         with shlang.
Frances May 2018
Sinking sands untouched by the eternal sun rays
burn holes through the hours' glass
It shatters

Disintegrated
By a pacing shock like a blooming spring's lightening

Blackness falls as eye lids flutter
Blue lips tremble in the cold
But the unchained heart is warming and radiant

Radiant like ephemeral breath
These pulsating branches weaveing us in enchantment
The rhythmic breezes wrapping

Rapping on our silken tender necks
Furrowed in a feathered nest
Bunking with Zues
Eating his grapes next to the fountain of youth
AtlJorj Apr 2018
Now,
18 is a smidge too old
to be worried about things
jumping from my closet,
but I still feel uncomfortable
when it's even just
kinda sorta almost open
and I find myself
bracing for trauma
for just the teeniest second
when I need to grab my bag.
you see,
the thing is,
I've been scared for so long.
I've been scared since I was a child
but when I was a child
my closets had no doors
and they were across the room.
I was too busy being scared
of the giant in the room next to mine
to even notice them.
I was scared of bruises
and coming home.
I was scared of not seeing my refection
in the dishes
and I was scared of seeing myself
too clearly.
now I'm an adult
and I've grown up
and out of that fear.
Now I'm just angry
because I'm still bunking it
with a madman,
with everything I've come to loathe
because I was too busy being terrified
to put my life together,
so now I stare at my closet
until I don't
and sometimes when I don't
I lie still enough
to feel like I'm not alive,
but I guess that's just life.
DOWN MEMORY LANE

Let's go back a little n become lil college gals once again;

Let's go back in time, for a minutes few, to 1971, when it all began.

Pearl n me meeting Badri Prasad in the lift; n his becoming our friend

Our meeting Nisha (not Neesha) n how she to the Nsg. College did land.

Mabel's attack of asthama, rushing her to Nair, that's how our friendship did start

With France n Veera, remaining as Mrs Sigamany's giddy goats we did; till we finally did part

Pearl once even became Dr. D'sousa's daughter by saying "present Daddy", was real fun

Bunking English classes n going to the canteen, by us, was frequently done.

Cherish I, those detours to K. Rustoms, for "1 Pista sandwich n 2 same things"

My darling Af lovingly taking us like a mother hen, under her wings

Oh! Endless memories, soooo very many, fun filled ones, fill my mind n heart

Of my very being, now they are an integral, important, inseparable part.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
itsall iwrite Jun 2018
solve obesity by stalking me  24.06.18

all over the tabloids
not going to reduce
bank with me as better then llyods
health risks will immediately reduce.
you need a focal
to keep you funking
like poetry that's local
high blood pressure needs back bunking.
follow and adore
let it make your heart pound
every day visit and score
its working when moving is ground.
now the chill
when addiction takes grip
you are fearing not even highgate hill
it is one paradise trip.
to all big ones i slaughter
can i be your drug
want to help everyone in this quarter
are you tempted for my stalking bug.
round and round following
on weight we are battling
like poetry its hard for swallowing
stalking me is helping and not not rattling.
hate to explain poetry so walking away.
Giovanni Apr 2019
Hi, what are you doing right now? / don't ignore me / keep thinking / don't avoid me / or else I'm gonna do things that will make you go crazy / see it doesn't matter how many people you're talking to / no matter what / I will always be a piece of you / inside with visions that you can't take / I'm the one in the background laughing at you cause you will break / you're on the couch and can't shake / so you pace back and forth and go outside for air / but what difference does that make? / *******! I dislike you / I'm the reason you really wanna commit suicide dude / why you laugh out of nowhere and cry? / while you keep that sadness and ask why? / but the only one in the room is you and I / I'm in charge of you / that pill only makes you fucos till it wears off and then here I am haunting you! Don't get mad / we have the same relationship your hero and super villain have / are you crazy yet? It's ok I'll be here waiting till you get up and hit the wall / go outside and hope that air will clear it off / you're so silly / thinking you can put a mask on and get rid of me / so we'll just keep going back and forth / and you just don't give up till we can't no more / cause we're now partners / so we bunking together / hate it or love it / we belong together.
Sanyukta Paliya Nov 2018
There was a day when we played with clay,
I miss those days is what i can say.
School days are the best,
I don't know about the rest.
Singing songs silently,
Talking about the movie that came recently.
Bunking classes and getting punishments,
During lectures those comedy comments,
In school each day was a game,
After school nothing is the same.
On exams those small small cheatings,
Then that fear of parents teacher meetings.
Even teachers were our good friend,
Sadly! Those days came to an end.
Moments that brought smiles then, now bring tears,
I wish I could go back in those years

                           ©sanyuktapaliya

— The End —