"coursework" poems
School's coming to an end,
and it's GCSE's,
using all my expertise gained through-out the school years,
It could all end in tears.
Teachers say it's a big deal,
that's what they convey,
it is for them, anyway.
The last few weeks of term and you hand in your coursework,
that was fine, I wish I could shirk the exams,
not very good at revising,
but our teachers are advising us to watch GCSE Bitesize,
but it doesn't really cover what we've learned,
which is a bit of a concern.
We all cram into the exam hall,
it's a bit last minute,
but I'm trying to recall my revision notes.
An Inspector Calls by J.B Priestley,
something's stirring,
Arthur Birling,
a public scandal is too much to handle,
Eva Smith,
Eric and Gerald both had affairs,
but the latter actually cared.
That's a start, I guess.
The exam invigilator sets the clocks,
and permits one hour and forty-five minutes.
The Science exams are multiple-choice,
Biology is fine, but Physics and Chemistry haunt me.
Geography next,
tectonic plates,
and the traits of EDC's,
as well as Less Economically Developed Countries.
That's all over,
we await our mark,
the best part is still to come,
everyone meeting down the park,
and that too me is the abiding memory of my school days,
one last time we're all together in glorious weather,
before going our separate ways.
May 17, 2020
May 17, 2020 at 1:54 PM UTC
Feb. 2015
this writ,
content so obvious,
it begs,
why even bother...
Pen Man Ship
this is who you are,
this is your scent, scripted,
the parfume that memory triggers
declarative self-examination passing grades
if pen and paper
are your skin and blood,
then you, man,
ship to shore,
skinned alive,
in poems verbose spill all
ship in ship out,
the glories and the dreads,
expel ink oceans glorious India blue,
rivulets of tributaries,
spillages of what~where,
you are pen
you are man
you are ship
where intersect these routed things,
one is voyage~bound
for parts unknown
the pen be the oar,
and the man, the ship,
and when the sails raised,
the wind never fails,
only there is no
dead reckoning -
for there are no
landmarks observable
when sit~stand
to commence sail~writing
each writ a latitude recorded,
each poem a longitude drawn,
all together, a
body of work,
all together,
your life's coursework
is the captain's log
Pen is the Man is the Ship
in everyday words
he answers
the questions life poses,
in everyday words,
he realizes
the answers he (doesn't) posses,
with each passing poem
the ship, righted,
though the heading
remans unknown
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
I stare
at the stack.
Stood tall,
And bold;
Of sweat,
And grit,
And sheer
Resolve.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
Ms. Reznikova
Won't you come over
I'd like to show ya
A thing or two
You won't find in an English book.
Marking coursework's got you bogged down
Let's me and you paint the town
Take a night off
Play truancy with me
Ms. Come on over, I'll cook.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
My coursework printed self.
daily
wonderings
of things I don't really understand
but would like
to.
I never understood you.
Maybe that's
why
things escape me so.
You have your tangeant soul
and i've nowhere to go.
You and beautiful
(hand in hand)
the same thing to me.
This places a curse in my eyes
for every other dear in my headlight.
So i've found confidence in nothin'
to display myself for
all ears / all minds
yeah, i really
don't
mind.
but neither does anyone i've come across.
Dec 25, 2011
Dec 25, 2011 at 10:05 PM UTC
This has been an interesting year for me.
I left 2017 in a depression,
it followed on into 2018.
I completed a year's worth of coursework
for my Master’s degree.
“Master’s of Science in Software Engineering
with a concentration in Cybersecurity
and Project Management."
What a ****** mouthful.
I started a new job -
one I enjoy coming to every day,
one where I'm never the smartest person
in the room.
I get to learn so much every day.
One where I can grow and
take on responsibility.
I took a leap of faith -
made my first investment
and bought a house.
Shortly after, I took some responsibility
for something other than myself
and got a dog.
I stopped underestimating how important
people are in my life.
I repaired some broken relationships
and nurtured some existing ones.
I went through a severe bout of depression.
I found myself drinking daily,
found myself on my knees in my driveway
pleading to God,
asking why and how.
Sometimes all you have to do is ask the question.
I found myself in a state of uncaring -
completely apathetic as to whether I should live or die,
suicidal,
with my gun calling my name, whispering,
growing louder with each drink.
In a drunken daze, completely broken
and defeated,
I admitted to one of my best friends how
close I'd come,
how tempted I'd been.
She took my gun off my hands,
in keeping with a promise we'd made to each other long ago.
I have not drank since,
nor will I ever drink again.
In these darkening hours is when
I found my faith in God,
something that seemed to be there
all along,
yet was something I couldn't admit
to myself.
I met the love of my life -
something I've never been so certain of -
and it's opened up possibilities
I had only dreamed of.
Someone that there's a future with,
that chooses to grow, to flourish,
and to love.
Certainly life has more challenges in store,
the struggle, the suffering, is never-ending,
and sometimes it's all we can do to
stay above water.
This year has been one of absolute transformation,
and this December looks entirely different
than the last.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
A word from the weary
dear friend
GSCE coursework
does not end.
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC
The seed was planted
On a flight across the Atlantic.
For whatever reason
I became aware
My stomach seemed bigger
My attention turned there.
Coming home from a trip
My clothes had a different fit
I became concerned,
Parts of my brain started to churn.
I want to fix this.
The flower I began to cultivate
Was one of anger and self-hate.
But most of Grade 12 I was busy
I had to perfect my coursework
Sports, clubs and a job made me dizzy.
All the while the flower was there
Slowly it grew,
I began restricting and exercising more
Nobody else knew
I wasn't getting results
But I am a goal oriented girl,
So as soon as life wasn't busy,
My mind really started to swirl.
That flower grew much faster
Sprouted very tall,
I hid my self-hate carefully,
Only realizing its horror once it became Fall
Petals have fallen, but parts of that flower still stand.
I'm trying to cut it down,
To resist helping it grow,
So the real me can be found
And a new flower I can sow
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
Cigarettes and alcohol
and pictures of you
Lighters and money and coursework too.
I'm trying to forget but what can i do? When cigarettes and alcohol reminds me of you?
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
Aren't we all so close to the end
And the beginning of things?
I am so close to the end of this day,
The beginning of my coursework,
Which I should've started three weeks ago,
And I so close
To my next kiss
With you.
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
I as in ***********
year's worth of body coursework;
four seasons
of education
Mind wandering;
frustration of the Inguina
Liquids expanding,
collapsing, rising,
falling
action upon action
between two bodies
I as in wake up
tomorrow, alone
in an empty room
filled with tiny silences;
an open space mass;
atoms the size
of wet noodles
Inhale this lust,
mate, breed,
open mouth surgery
I as in can't take much more
death is calling;
carry on this legacy,
a past riddled with scars,
bequeathed upon your innocence
this agony.
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
Gah !
Homework dairy full
Coursework all over head
Reached home and
leaned freely on bed
So he start to procrastinate
feel diZzy doing assignment
Whether it’s of
Mathematics and environment
Moral science or health
For him
It’s a serious disease
destroying his ease
Postpone and delay
Pupils copying in relay
Uncaring the bumps of humps
Brother helping sister with her homework in bus -
To complete before reaching school gate
But he procrastinates !
May 16, 2020
May 16, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
We were inseparable
Until we were too busy
Or too tired to laugh
And we'd talk nonsense
For hours on end
For some release
From logic and coursework
We'd eat junk
Because why the hell not?
And we were inseparable
Because why wouldn't we be?
When we knew each other so well
Well enough to call each other
Trees and weird toads
And we laughed and laughed
And laughed and never grew up
Because why should we?
So we didn't and we won't ever
Not really
Not when we're together
We'll always be not-quite-adults
With whims and fantasies
And silliness
That meant so much
For meaning nothing
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC
I wonder if they realise,
That my fingers’ dance,
Is more than an essay or coursework.
I wonder if they know,
That these words have more meaning,
Than just word count or letters or form.
I wonder if what they see,
Is a student catching up,
Or a hipster with too much time.
I wonder if they expect,
Me to move on soon,
Or stay here obsessing all night.
I wonder if they care,
Enough to think at all,
Or wonder who I am,
Where I've been,
Or why I'm writing.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
Fall is having something of a moment - in Paris - from what I hear.
Me? I’m enjoying some large-group foundational instruction, small-group clinical tutorials, and what they call ‘dense-coursework’ because endless memorization and scientific concept acquisition isn’t dense at all.
Peter’s in Paris for goods, Woot!
And lucky him, he’s adjusting to waking up
to ‘Betty (Get Money) by Yung Gravy,’
blasting from my Sonos One speaker at 6am
right after Charles and I finish our morning 5k.
I’m trying to be present for him, to atone for endless studies.
My diary charts my intentions, anyway, like satirical epistolaries.
Now that Peter’s in Paris, he seems “S” obsessed!
I didn’t tell him, “Wait, isn’t that what A.I. is for?”
No, I go to minimal lengths to discourage him,
for we’re each other’s raw materials, are we not?
Shakespeare, a man who obviously spent a lot of his time on the Internet. Wrote about that very specific, emotional-space and little else. He disguised it, of course, with ****** allusions, drunken sword fights, mistaken identities and sick-burns - but it’s all there.
****** gender-bending, sneaking around, and jesters spilling blunt truths about “appetites.”
But he presented it all as real, human and normal - signaling pleasures full of breathing, tasting, feeling, and the overt-expression of ****** actions - he was a man ahead of his time - made for social media.
Of course, you can’t trust what a poet writes of love.
Not because of dissimulation, but because love is so exciting
- that the happening is all-consuming - and in the after-pauses, much is forgotten.
.
.
Songs for this:
Betty (Get Money) by Yung Gravy [E]
Man I Need by Olivia Dean
Bad Dreams by Teddy Swims
.
Yung Gravy = uhh he’z SO g.d cute and funny.
talking to Peter “If I didn’t have you, I’d stalk him to prove my love.”
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC