"classmate" poems
Hindi ko alam paano ko to sisimulan
Pero bawat gabi ako ay nadadatnan
Sa tanong na laging dumadaan
Dito sa sarili kong sugatan
Pero ang tanong na ito,
Ang laging nagpapahinto
Sa kasayahan kong di aabut nang minuto
Sa pag iisip ko, sino nga ba ako?
Napapaisip ako gabi gabi
Kung saan nga ba ako magsisisi
Ang hindi pag hanap sa katanungan kong tangi?
O balang araw malaman kong ano nga ba akung klase..
Ang mundung ito na malawak
Ay napakaraming tanong na hawak
Iba, mga kababalaghang di tiyak
Nasa kanila ba ang sagot kong tiyak?
Ano nga ba ako dito sa mundo
mag-aaral? anak? Kaibigan? Bestfriend? kalaro? Classmate? O Baka naman isang tagapayo
O baka wala lang talaga ako
Dito sa mundong tinitirhan ko
Baka isa lang akung extra?
Sa buhay ng iba,
Na mahalaga lang pag may problema
At wala nang kwenta pag lahat masaya
Baka nga ganon lang talaga ako
Dito sa mundong tinitirhan ko
Pero minsan sinasabi ko
Baka mahanap ko ang sagot ko dito
Sagot nang isang tanong ko
Sino nga ba talaga ako?
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
Natuklasan ko na pagkatapos ng lahat ng hirap at sakit na iyong naranasan
Makakangiti ka pa rin pala muli
Pagngiti tulad noong unang beses **** makatanggap ng laruan galing sa iyong magulang
Tulad noong unang beses **** makausap si crush with matching blush
Tulad noong pinagtripan nyo si classmate na uto uto (mga bully!)
Tulad noong sinagot ka na ng nililigawan mo
Tulad noong nalaman mo na crush ka rin ng crush mo at ayun naging kayo
Tulad noong nalaman mo na wala kang grado na singko
Tulad noong natanggap ka sa una **** trabaho
Tulad noong pagtanggap ng unang sahod na pinaghirapan mo pero sa magulang mo lahat mapupunta
Tulad noong napromote ka at unang salary increase mo!
Tulad noong sinurprise ka ng mga kaibigan mo nung kaarawan mo
Tulad noong pagkatapos ng una niyong halik ng iniibig mo
Tulad noong nakikita mo na unti unting natutupad ang mga pangarap mo
Sa paglipas ng mga araw
Matutunan mo
Na pwede kang gumawa ng mga bagay na makakapagpasaya sayo
Tulad ng isang ibon na lumilipad kasabay ang hangin
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 10:21 AM UTC
Agos ng pagmamahal na nadarama ay sadyang lumalagaslas
Halos hindi ko mapagtanto kung pagibig nga ba ito.
Hindi sa natatakot na akoy mabigo ngunit may nag mamayari
na ng iyong puso.
Ayokong mapalapit sayo sapagkat naiinlove ako ng todo.
isang masakit na kataga na pilit na winawaglit saking isipan,
kaibigan lang kita laging tinatandaan
pagibig ba nadama noo'y kinalimutan na
tanong sa may kapal bakit naging classmate pa kita.
Tiningnan ng palihim, sanay wag masamain.
pagibig na nadama hanggang pangarap nalang
talaga, sanay minsan maisip mo rin na
may nag mamahal sayo ng palihim.
torpe talaaga ako kahit anong sabihin.
kahit saang anggulo salain.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
"This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did ******
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant ****** drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.
She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.
In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn't she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending."
-Marge Piercy
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
I remember that spring morning all too well
As much as I wish I could forget
It was the Monday after prom
I came into math class, the teacher was eyeing me sympathetically
Then the principle came in with tears in her eyes
What was going on?
She started balling, I could barely make out her words
Then I heard her loud and clear
You were dead
No. No. No.
Surely I misheard
Surely this was all a big misunderstanding and the boy in that car wasn't you
Surely you'd stroll into class 10 minutes late as usual
But it was you in that car
And you never strolled into class again
I remember when I told my best friend, the girl you loved and who loved you
As I told her you were dead I watched the life drain from her face quicker than an avalanche falling, and it has yet to return
And now her face is a reminder
And now your empty desk is a reminder
And now that bench where you used to sit all the time is a reminder
And that one less chair at our graduation is a reminder
And that picture of you in the hallway is a reminder
Everything is a reminder
No one really knows what happened to you that night
Do people really crash into brick buildings on accident?
Maybe you lost control of the car
Maybe you lost control of your life
All I know is seventeen is way too young to die
All I know is we should've been talking about prom that morning
Who kissed who, who wore what, who's after party was the best
But instead we were mourning the death of a classmate
That morning we lost you, and along with you, we lost our innocence too
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
We had never even talked;
I really only knew of you.
We passed by each other in the hallways,
Consumed by all we had to do.
Now, three years later,
I suddenly discover you are gone...
Makes me wonder if we had been friends,
Could you have found the will to carry on?
Maybe just a weak "hello"
Or a smile of silent understanding
Could have been enough to keep you here
When life had gotten more demanding.
I wonder if my friendship
Could have simply helped you to know
That life is hard for all of us
And that you were not alone.
The feelings must have been raw,
As the voices in your head got louder.
Maybe if you could have foreseen the fallout
You would have lived your life a little prouder.
I don't know what you went through
And I probably wouldn't have been a huge difference
But perhaps, for you, I could have been
Some sort of interference.
I'm praying for your families--
Because I wish you knew that you had two.
There was the one with the same last name
But also those friends who chose to love you.
I wish that you could see
How much everyone here is grieving
Asking what more they could have done
Just to keep you from leaving.
And I am sorry I couldn't help you
That you felt there was no other way--
And I wish I had given you a bit more thought
Than just finding out the other day.
Even though I didn't help you
I just wanted you to see:
In one day, you touched so many lives--
One of those being me.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
My friends describe me
as a man of few verbal words.
Funnily, the words are chosen
poorly for someone who
thinks so much about what
a person should and shouldn't say.
Last year, a classmate told me
she would get at least three words
out of me before our study group
quit for the night. I responded,”You lose”.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Summer scents and summer heat
Teenagers' laughter and water flying
Dripping heads and shoeless feet
Trees wear flowers and the sun is shining
To him the day's grey and there's too much noise
Smothered in his black shirt he's ignored by other boys
Saved by the bell, he joins the row some teacher leads
While a group of pupils talks, two girls argue and one reads
At his usual seat he takes his usual things
Acting like he's writing while he's finishing some drawings
Yet his mind slips away to something near
Someone's stare makes his concentration disappear
Frustrated his eyes find her silent stare
When the teacher turns his back, she leaves her desk in one, two, three
Unbalanced he acts like he doesn't care
He could just pretend like he didn't see
Next to him she takes place
The seat astonished by the company
Her hands slowly reach his face
And before he knows his vision gets blurry
Still wondering what's going on, the poor boy has no clue
Until she whispers- with his glasses on:
Now I see the world like you.
Y.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
He had his tongue in my mouth
I was new to this and went along with it
He layed me down
I thought about my classmate in the front seat
He moved his hands up too high
I didn’t want to cause any drama
He put his hands under my shirt
I silently tried to push them away
He was stronger than me
I kept pushing his hands away
He felt me up anyways
I faked like I didn’t mind, while I smiled, tried to gently push him away,
He stopped and said “please”
I was silent
At one point he also tried to put his hand down my jeans
I pushed back harder than I’d done the first time.
The classmate in the front took a video
I looked like I was enjoying myself
I wasn’t
My friends saw it
I felt sick
People got mad at me for denying that I enjoyed it
I wanted to cry
My best friend didn’t believe me when I told him I was violated
I remembered when he said he’d protect me
Why didn’t you say no?
I was in shock
Why didn’t you get out of the car?
He was on top of me
He said “please” why didn’t you say No?
I was scared of making him mad.
Why didn’t you tell anyone?
I didn’t want them to know
Why didn’t you press charges?
I just wanted the whole thing to go away
Why did you pretend you were enjoying it if you weren’t?
I was scared, in shock, I wasn’t thinking clearly, maybe I thought it was safer than him doing it by force.
Why can’-
I don’t need to answer your questions
I was violated
I don’t care if you agree or not
Please
Stop making me relive it
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:57 AM UTC
I was never considered a friend,
just a classmate,
a time-pusher that was all i was.
But today,
i planted a smile.
A smile so deep and pure,
it came as a shock to her.
A surprize indeed.
But surely my own heart rejoices to know that i planted a smile.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
In the wispy glow of dusk
he came
mazing through years of husk
memory groped his name.
Then I remembered.
Though drew us apart fate
once we were very close
inseparable classmate!
Seemed so empty
even an hour without him
more together more the happy
we bonded too in dream.
Shared we two
same liking and taste
loved to do
living without the rest.
I have come to close a deal
in his eyes was sadness spread
*hope you remember still
the promise we made.*
I remembered.
when we last met
he said
*let’s seal this with trust
must come to meet his heart’s pal
the one departing first.*
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 9:32 AM UTC
My classmate from high-school,
Roll number 57 - Mohit Kamboj,
Is the coolest & the most freaky.
I have not seen anyone as awesome,
In their give & take with the teacher,
He made the class laugh effortlessly!
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
SEASHELLS
Seashells
Humble shells of the sea
Each seems to be still alive and staring at me
In its matchless symmetry-
Like the wondrous beauty of a painting
A tender poem written with poignancy
Not of life’s sorrows but joys
For celebration –each is like a happy Mozartian symphony
Such perfection in a tiny manifestation
Natura in minimis maxima-
The envy of Michelangelo or Da Vinci
Seashells—nature’s glorious gifts by far.
Seashells
Always remind me of happy childhood days
Lucky finds—spotted often in half -buried golden sand
Proudly displayed in a jar---I won every classmate’s praise.
Seashells
Tell of the sea’s unknown stories
Events that had stretched through millions of centuries
When you spot one on the shore, readily
Pick it up as a treasure----contemplate upon its profound mystery.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
a borrowed pencil
coaxing out words
it never knew it had
in the hands
of another
guiltily.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
the very sadness. the very sadness of the intruder who brings his own plate to drop. the very ecstasy of telling a classmate he or she is ugly along with one finger he or she must choose. the cutting of the fingers to equal size. the unintended ecstasy of the sadness I use to *** a cobweb where I wait for something I’ll do nothing with.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
Someone asked me "So what happens when you know everything about him and get bored?"And I told them "It's not going to happen, I've known him 5 years and not only am I learning new things still but being re-told old things and I love it, with him there's no getting bored."
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
You have my birth name
I hear it and want to die
Stop raising your hand
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 3:13 AM UTC
I notice the tiny pulse of frustration in the back of his neck
I notice the way that he sighs and slumps over
I notice how his elbows splay out so his face bobs lightly over his desk
A buoy dancing over a wave
I notice the way he glances at his friends before he answers
I notice the way he shapes his mouth into a grin before he speaks
I notice how his eyes squint a little when he laughs
I notice how they dull when he doesn’t want to listen
I notice how his shoulders hunch when refuses to hear
I notice the boredom in the lines of his back as he considers
I notice the way his leg jiggles as he bounces his foot lightly
The ever-present dichotomy of professionalism fighting immaturity
Of a thirst to learn, fighting against ignorance, justice calling
I notice this inner battle of boyish nonchalance and masculine defensiveness
I notice how his eyes dart lightly over his chosen comrades before he writes again
I notice the way he presses his forehead into his hand
As though he could pull ideas out
And read his thoughts printed back on his palm
I notice the consistent rubbing against his face with his fingers
Phalanges to stimulate the thought process
I notice the hesitation before his pen scratches the page
Piercing the paper with words he must call his own
I notice the claim of responsibility and the toll it takes on his physique
I notice the fatigue of struggling to create
To feel, to create, to feel, to feel
I notice, throughout all the time I’ve been noticing him
He has not noticed me once
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
The first measures of your favorite song coming on the radio
The lurch your stomach gives when you go too high on a swing
Dancing in the rain, and splashing in the puddles
The relief in flopping yourself down on your bed after a hard day
Happy dreams
The moment you realize there is one more cookie in the box
Your favorite outfit
Hugs from loved ones
Discovering beautiful shells on the beach
Waking up and realizing you still have a couple hours to sleep
The joy of saying, “I love you”
The joy of hearing it back
Lazy Sunday afternoons
Happy birthday wishes
Deep, meaningful conversations with friends
Little children running in the sun, enjoying life
Helping a classmate with homework
Reconnecting with old friends
The awe you feel watching a sunset
Raindrop races on windows
That grin you give your friend across the room when the teacher says, “pick a partner”
Hot showers after a good game
Stuffed animals that don't mind being squeezed and cried on
The tears and hugs of making up
Realizing the moment you fall in love
The congregation passionately singing your favorite hymn
Spreading God's Word
Puppies and kittens
That text from the right person at the right time
Surprising your friends with little gifts
The smell of new books
The smell of old books
Capturing that perfect picture
Your unknown potential
God's love
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
in our
besieged republic
snipers are
popping up
everywhere
taking ***
shots
ending lives
with a well placed
head shot
active shooters
star in
world premier
events
jokers
rise like
dark knights
casting large
looming shadows
on real 3D cinemax
multiplexed screens
sprinkling overpriced
buckets of popcorn
with generous
dollops of blood
others
head back to
school
still ******
about missing
recess and
excessive
sentences
to detention
halls where
bullies tortured
scrawny inmates
with wedgies
and painful
***** twisters
they’ve
come back
to even the score
leaving
bullet hole
pockmarks on
Sharpie smudged
smart boards
declaring endless
summer vacations
for classrooms
of children
who don’t
give wedgies
and only dream
of soft *****
these
urban guerillas
are now working
to liberate airports
from the tyranny
of TSA agents
fulfilling
PATRIOT ACT
duties for
10 bucks
an hour
and
last night
the latest
active shooter
showed up at
the Garden
State Plaza,
-my hometown
mall of america-
mumbling about his
Grand Theft Auto
score, strung out
and crashing
from an unfilled
pharma addiction
script
he grew
up as a
Highwayman
in Teaneck
a former
classmate
working
at Nordstroms
said he was
a really good kid
he was,
one of the good ones,
he could have shot
some people
but the only
person he
shot in the head
was himself
legions of
police officers
surrounding the mall
stood down
grateful for overtime
milling about
in the flashing
red strobes
inhaling the heady
blue fumes
rising to commend
Bergen County
Blue Laws and
next Sunday’s
time and a half
active shooter
training day
Jimi Hendrix:
Machine Gun
Oakland
11/5/13
jbm
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
He was never my classmate,
Neither was he my schoolmate,
As we have met on OkCupid,
Which is where we got suited.
He soon became my tablemate,
Then got promoted to bedmate,
Ranging from late-night nosh
To some naughty oh-my-gosh.
He was my almost-roommate,
Now, a hopeful housemate,
Since he would visit me daily
And keep me company gaily.
He was frequently my seatmate,
As well as invaluable playmate,
For we traveled places together
And cloyingly wrestled each other.
He has always been my helpmate,
And is presently my best teammate,
As he has cheered me up from afar,
As we chat as if there is no au revoir.
He will one day become my inmate,
Plus my hard-working workmate,
Since we will both have mini-me’s
Forcing us to slog away on our knees.
He is undoubtedly my soulmate,
One who is to become my lifemate,
For he is a romantic yet **** geek,
A keeper with charms all too unique.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
Homophobia is not funny.
Care to hear what is?
The wrenching fear boring holes in your best friend’s once bright eyes
every Thursday afternoon, when she must enter a changing room filled with hostile glares
The violent purple bruise re-emerging beneath your brother’s left eye
the same bruise he told your mother about three weeks ago
that he’d “gotten in a rugby accident”
The gnawing feeling of loneliness in your classmate’s stomach as she lies in an otherwise empty bed
no longer able to hold her girlfriend’s hand in public
following a run-in with her mother at the supermarket
The boy next door who can’t bring himself to leave his bed
Immobilized with anxiety and wrapped up in the sheets
(it’s been six days, nine hours, and forty-two minutes since he told his best friend.)
The young woman who serves you your coffee on Saturdays
living on less than minimum wage for three years now
Since her mother left her to the streets
The kind boy you used to date, he’s been single for years
Caught and confused between miserable safety
and endless happiness
- - -
I lied before.
Not an ounce of wit lies within these words.
This is simply
an open letter to homophobes:
Find some ******* ******* originality for your jokes.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
The problem with being invisible
Is that none of you ever see me
You see Friend, Person, Sister, Classmate, Girl
Never Me.
The problem with being invisible
Is that you do not hear me
You hear words, sentences, chatter
Not the inbetween, not what I'm saying
The problem with being invisible
Is that you do not think of me
You do not lie awake
And wonder where
Or who I am.
I come only occasionally,
Casually,
In the slums of your minds
unedited and full version redirected
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
I don't really know you
But I know that smile
I know it's not wholehearted
And I know that you're faking it
I know you're struggling
I know life is hard right now
I know you feel like nothing will get better
And I know you feel hopeless, lost
But I know other stuff, too
I know how happy you make people
I know how amazing you are
I know that your life is just at the start
And I know how great it will be
I don't know a lot of things
But I know that you can't give up
So please
Please don't give up
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC