"flunking" poems - Hello Poetry

Lollipops to cigarettes Cooties turned to pregnancy The cute little girls and boys we once knew at recess are no more, some are drop outs, some are on the news for ****** and others have seemed to disappear from existence How did this happen? How did the life we knew so well as children, filled with jump rope and four square, turn into the monstrosity of modern society The drama now is about boys, drugs, and flunking school, the only so called 'drama' back then was when someone else had the blue crayon you needed to finish your color by number Computers, televisions, and phones take over the lives of children nowadays, the big pass times when we were kids was to go back in the woods behind our houses and catch salamander, play hide and seek and cops and robbers when it started to get dark Now? It's lying to your parents to go out and get drunk, skipping class to go smoke **** and and turning the lollipop in your mouth into a cigarette Did you ever consider that the lollipop tastes better? That maybe this sticky strawberry mess gives you a better outlook on life? When you're a kid and you're happy with your crayons and hopscotch you don't care what problems you're faced with: if someones lost; find them, if someone's feelings are hurt; say sorry, if you wanna lose weight; lose it This lollipop of yours has turned an upside-down world right-side-up again creating brighter perspectives and healthier pass times So instead of curling our fingers around disgusting cancer sticks and pregnancy tests, maybe we should grab hold of that lollipops taste and lever let go...so the only downfall to life, is cavities.

0

Oct 23, 2012

Oct 23, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC

red-writing-hood

Lollipops to Cigarettes

Lollipops to cigarettes Cooties turned to pregnancy The cute little girls and boys we once knew at recess are no more, some are drop outs, some are on the news for ****** and others have seemed to disappear from existence How did this happen? How did the life we knew so well as children, filled with jump rope and four square, turn into the monstrosity of modern society The drama now is about boys, drugs, and flunking school, the only so called 'drama' back then was when someone else had the blue crayon you needed to finish your color by number Computers, televisions, and phones take over the lives of children nowadays, the big pass times when we were kids was to go back in the woods behind our houses and catch salamander, play hide and seek and cops and robbers when it started to get dark Now? It's lying to your parents to go out and get drunk, skipping class to go smoke **** and and turning the lollipop in your mouth into a cigarette Did you ever consider that the lollipop tastes better? That maybe this sticky strawberry mess gives you a better outlook on life? When you're a kid and you're happy with your crayons and hopscotch you don't care what problems you're faced with: if someones lost; find them, if someone's feelings are hurt; say sorry, if you wanna lose weight; lose it This lollipop of yours has turned an upside-down world right-side-up again creating brighter perspectives and healthier pass times So instead of curling our fingers around disgusting cancer sticks and pregnancy tests, maybe we should grab hold of that lollipops taste and lever let go...so the only downfall to life, is cavities.

13

''You dropped your ice-cream little child?'', This kind of case is only mild. ''You lost your dog?'', this one is sad ''It happened once to uncle Brad''. But take, ''You're flunking out of school?'' Now, this one's not so very cool. Alas, nothing ever could compare To: ''My Mom and Dad are buried there''.

0

May 3, 2012

May 3, 2012 at 8:32 AM UTC

hera-nova

Categorize Sympathy

''You dropped your ice-cream little child?'', This kind of case is only mild. ''You lost your dog?'', this one is sad ''It happened once to uncle Brad''. But take, ''You're flunking out of school?'' Now, this one's not so very cool. Alas, nothing ever could compare To: ''My Mom and Dad are buried there''.

8

So you have Geometry, History, Try to start something new in Chemistry, Though you forgot the education, you're attracted physically, No connection mentally, but you think it may happen eventually. So you wait a few periods to see where things go, Instead of flunking, you try to pass the class. But of all the "F's" you have gotten back to back, Life shouldn't be a test you fail at.

0

Mar 8, 2010

Mar 8, 2010 at 5:08 PM UTC

keenan-martin

Tests

So you have Geometry, History, Try to start something new in Chemistry, Though you forgot the education, you're attracted physically, No connection mentally, but you think it may happen eventually. So you wait a few periods to see where things go, Instead of flunking, you try to pass the class. But of all the "F's" you have gotten back to back, Life shouldn't be a test you fail at.

8

I can already anticipate the unfortunate this day will be I can already feel the blood plumbing …and my motivation flunking Can I still count? The fourth, the fifth? how many have I had only this week It has become so common, part of my routine, part of me. I ineffectivly look for excuses such as the scorching heat and the buzzing sounds things I always blame, when my head starts to hurt Might it only be an inside pain manifesting in an outside suffering? an accumulation of disturbed thoughts hiding in the darker spots of my over-used mind My usual cocktail of variate pills the usual cooling pillow none of them have any effect increasing the dose has no point, no more Is there a way of curing, this bearable pain this a slight modesty easy to ignore, a undesirable company that never leaves. A friend at the door, that you can feel it’s presence and refuse to open the entrance to your lovely home but then it knocks, and it knocks The awful sound of the loud knocks that shimmer your head Nothing is bearable, not living not breathing, The screams, the yelling of the tickling pens My hands can’t avoid the shake my eyes lower, trying to close Maybe the uninvited friend will leave if the host is found in a deep sleep But no, the knocks won’t leave me alone. “Complaining you wanted company? here it is, take it”. “Don’t complain, I will be forever by your side” Oh yes, the irony of my wishes, turning back to me. “You have things to do” my inside voice yells “Remember, no time of pity, just finish your work “ “And then you might be able to sleep” Another lie, that keeps me awake another laugh of my subconscious mind, knowing that I will fall apart but wondering why, Will it be the headache caused by the torment of my thoughts? Or will it be the lack of sleep caused by an anxious mind and the pile of tedious work that needs to be done. Is this enough to break me down? “Are you this weak” laughs the cause of every headache, Your problems aren’t even problems, Family, past and friends, what a teenage ***** “You are just drowning yourself in a glass of water helped by pills”. Capsules full of chemicals in which I hope to find an answer to my inside pain. Pain, maybe I don’t even know what pain really means.

0

Feb 7, 2013

Feb 7, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC

kim-v

Drowning in Pills

I can already anticipate the unfortunate this day will be I can already feel the blood plumbing …and my motivation flunking Can I still count? The fourth, the fifth? how many have I had only this week It has become so common, part of my routine, part of me. I ineffectivly look for excuses such as the scorching heat and the buzzing sounds things I always blame, when my head starts to hurt Might it only be an inside pain manifesting in an outside suffering? an accumulation of disturbed thoughts hiding in the darker spots of my over-used mind My usual cocktail of variate pills the usual cooling pillow none of them have any effect increasing the dose has no point, no more Is there a way of curing, this bearable pain this a slight modesty easy to ignore, a undesirable company that never leaves. A friend at the door, that you can feel it’s presence and refuse to open the entrance to your lovely home but then it knocks, and it knocks The awful sound of the loud knocks that shimmer your head Nothing is bearable, not living not breathing, The screams, the yelling of the tickling pens My hands can’t avoid the shake my eyes lower, trying to close Maybe the uninvited friend will leave if the host is found in a deep sleep But no, the knocks won’t leave me alone. “Complaining you wanted company? here it is, take it”. “Don’t complain, I will be forever by your side” Oh yes, the irony of my wishes, turning back to me. “You have things to do” my inside voice yells “Remember, no time of pity, just finish your work “ “And then you might be able to sleep” Another lie, that keeps me awake another laugh of my subconscious mind, knowing that I will fall apart but wondering why, Will it be the headache caused by the torment of my thoughts? Or will it be the lack of sleep caused by an anxious mind and the pile of tedious work that needs to be done. Is this enough to break me down? “Are you this weak” laughs the cause of every headache, Your problems aren’t even problems, Family, past and friends, what a teenage ***** “You are just drowning yourself in a glass of water helped by pills”. Capsules full of chemicals in which I hope to find an answer to my inside pain. Pain, maybe I don’t even know what pain really means.

61

~dedicated to the heart fixers~ sometimes I smack my head, when a poem commission is lying on the ground before me, and I just don’t hear it, believe it, in order to retrieve it… many months of physical rehabilitation, sessions always ended with a certain cutesy Gen Z~Millenial crossover phraseology: “remember to tell someone you love them” the instructors mostly youngish, so we senior~smile a tad dismissively, give them a reward~grin, and head for the locker room, where we gossip and compare notes, on the Part II of our in-process-future-realization, living a grueling new life of self-preservation, 24/7 the PTs & EPs pound you on the machina, go faster, work harder, eat better, sleep more, take those meds, motion is lotion, walk the talk, never be still, but race to live longer and prosper, this hard work is your new job, and resignation is non~optional now, it hits me, via a figurative sharp slap on the side of the head, triggering an actual physical manifestation that reverbs to the toes, that the most important lesson went under the radar, evading the former trader’s dimming vision, flunking himself on the rehab test paper, a purple F for fool, a grade, earned and deserved, and herein poetically preserved the hardest heart work, begins only after you co- commence the longest road back to where you once belonged, but where you can’t walk alone, for therein a recipe for failure; and the work that needs doing, is on you; take that tear-repaired heart, and give it away, it, one can be healed, but not if sealed, for the hard-hearted walls thicken, and “*over time, the thickened heart muscle can become too stiff to fill the heart with blood; the heart can't pump enough blood to meet the body's needs.*” so break off pieces of your heart, give them away with relentless abandon, for this is the heart that self-repairs, new tissue, new fiber, and most important, regeneration, the one single reparation that can successfully accomplish the true miracle of getting by giving, no forgiving, if you don’t exercise the heart by “remembering to tell someone you love them” dedicated to the hard working staff of the Cardio Rehabilitation Unit of Nyulangonge, Rusk Institute of Rehabilitation who started me with a mighty push on the long road to utilizing my heart properly <•>

0

Apr 26, 2024

Apr 26, 2024 at 8:13 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Hard Heart~Work (a love poem)

~dedicated to the heart fixers~ sometimes I smack my head, when a poem commission is lying on the ground before me, and I just don’t hear it, believe it, in order to retrieve it… many months of physical rehabilitation, sessions always ended with a certain cutesy Gen Z~Millenial crossover phraseology: “remember to tell someone you love them” the instructors mostly youngish, so we senior~smile a tad dismissively, give them a reward~grin, and head for the locker room, where we gossip and compare notes, on the Part II of our in-process-future-realization, living a grueling new life of self-preservation, 24/7 the PTs & EPs pound you on the machina, go faster, work harder, eat better, sleep more, take those meds, motion is lotion, walk the talk, never be still, but race to live longer and prosper, this hard work is your new job, and resignation is non~optional now, it hits me, via a figurative sharp slap on the side of the head, triggering an actual physical manifestation that reverbs to the toes, that the most important lesson went under the radar, evading the former trader’s dimming vision, flunking himself on the rehab test paper, a purple F for fool, a grade, earned and deserved, and herein poetically preserved the hardest heart work, begins only after you co- commence the longest road back to where you once belonged, but where you can’t walk alone, for therein a recipe for failure; and the work that needs doing, is on you; take that tear-repaired heart, and give it away, it, one can be healed, but not if sealed, for the hard-hearted walls thicken, and “*over time, the thickened heart muscle can become too stiff to fill the heart with blood; the heart can't pump enough blood to meet the body's needs.*” so break off pieces of your heart, give them away with relentless abandon, for this is the heart that self-repairs, new tissue, new fiber, and most important, regeneration, the one single reparation that can successfully accomplish the true miracle of getting by giving, no forgiving, if you don’t exercise the heart by “remembering to tell someone you love them” dedicated to the hard working staff of the Cardio Rehabilitation Unit of Nyulangonge, Rusk Institute of Rehabilitation who started me with a mighty push on the long road to utilizing my heart properly <•>

50

i remembered at school, back when i was a lazy, flunking student, spending long hours after-school sitting for remedial literature classes, simply because i couldn’t care less about punctuation marks - the most obnoxious one being the oxford comma. an oxford comma - as trivial and petty as it seems - is used after the penultimate object in a list of three or more items, typically placed before the words: 1. and 2. or a quick example of it would be “a bag, a pencil[, and] a book” haha, how ridiculous. even years after passing the dreadful class, it’s still such a struggle for me to decipher, let alone, articulate the thought of you, us [, and] everything that happened in between. because in the end, everything winds down to the simple punctuation i used to see no importance of: i’m just a mundane comma, a pause between a connected sentence, and an oxford comma separates her, you [, and me.] march 12, 2020 - diary entry of a rebound girl.

0

Mar 12, 2020

Mar 12, 2020 at 10:13 PM UTC

cryustals

oxford comma.

i remembered at school, back when i was a lazy, flunking student, spending long hours after-school sitting for remedial literature classes, simply because i couldn’t care less about punctuation marks - the most obnoxious one being the oxford comma. an oxford comma - as trivial and petty as it seems - is used after the penultimate object in a list of three or more items, typically placed before the words: 1. and 2. or a quick example of it would be “a bag, a pencil[, and] a book” haha, how ridiculous. even years after passing the dreadful class, it’s still such a struggle for me to decipher, let alone, articulate the thought of you, us [, and] everything that happened in between. because in the end, everything winds down to the simple punctuation i used to see no importance of: i’m just a mundane comma, a pause between a connected sentence, and an oxford comma separates her, you [, and me.] march 12, 2020 - diary entry of a rebound girl.

14

I hope you wait for her in the hallway That when the bell rang, She'd walk out that room to see your face Glowing under the generic, white fluorescent light Ready to greet her a smile Even though your eyes are tired from the last class I hope she takes you out during your break Walking around the campus, Sitting on stairs, near pavements, Eating delicious food on sticks, That amidst the students on their busy routines, She makes you feel waking up this morning was worth it I hope you send her home to be safe Especially when the sun had already set Even if you're schedule is only half for the day Even if you have to wake up at 5AM tomorrow Just so you can ride that jeep, that train, that bus And feel her head rest on your shoulders I hope she makes you feel happy on a school night That you feel at ease even if you have to finish a paper That she never fails to cheer you up for an exam And whenever you need someone to drive by with you, She won't hesitate to come and stop typing for a while Despite both of you have to be in class by 7 next morning I hope you treat her a ride out of chivalry Even if it was just six coins Or one, because there wasn't enough in her purse Or even if she's got enough but you do it anyway Because the horns of the busy streets sounded like music When she's sitting in front of you, or best, beside you I hope the classes you've been with her were amazing That when you look at that number on the door You smile, even if that subject is something you despise I hope your professors look at you with gratitude And feel thankful because you have her to give that to you When you were ready to give up, when you were so close to flunking I hope the tables, the chairs, the floors, the walls Reminds her how bittersweet college is And how it must've felt quite boring without you How the running before the bell rings Is nothing compared to running into you Or helping her get her books off the ground when it fell I hope the floors and the grass you both walk on, The library you both used to cram and laze around Will overwhelm the deadlines you need to reach, The lengthy commute you had to endure And tells you a lesson about a thing or two Not formed from equations and long written essays I hope you both don't forget education is important As important as living your lives, As important as keeping that life alive And I hope when you both get that diploma You'll look back at each other and thank each other That even if it didn't turned out like what those books say, The halls could almost, at some point, feel like home

0

Jan 9, 2017

Jan 9, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC

MALG

College Daydream

I hope you wait for her in the hallway That when the bell rang, She'd walk out that room to see your face Glowing under the generic, white fluorescent light Ready to greet her a smile Even though your eyes are tired from the last class I hope she takes you out during your break Walking around the campus, Sitting on stairs, near pavements, Eating delicious food on sticks, That amidst the students on their busy routines, She makes you feel waking up this morning was worth it I hope you send her home to be safe Especially when the sun had already set Even if you're schedule is only half for the day Even if you have to wake up at 5AM tomorrow Just so you can ride that jeep, that train, that bus And feel her head rest on your shoulders I hope she makes you feel happy on a school night That you feel at ease even if you have to finish a paper That she never fails to cheer you up for an exam And whenever you need someone to drive by with you, She won't hesitate to come and stop typing for a while Despite both of you have to be in class by 7 next morning I hope you treat her a ride out of chivalry Even if it was just six coins Or one, because there wasn't enough in her purse Or even if she's got enough but you do it anyway Because the horns of the busy streets sounded like music When she's sitting in front of you, or best, beside you I hope the classes you've been with her were amazing That when you look at that number on the door You smile, even if that subject is something you despise I hope your professors look at you with gratitude And feel thankful because you have her to give that to you When you were ready to give up, when you were so close to flunking I hope the tables, the chairs, the floors, the walls Reminds her how bittersweet college is And how it must've felt quite boring without you How the running before the bell rings Is nothing compared to running into you Or helping her get her books off the ground when it fell I hope the floors and the grass you both walk on, The library you both used to cram and laze around Will overwhelm the deadlines you need to reach, The lengthy commute you had to endure And tells you a lesson about a thing or two Not formed from equations and long written essays I hope you both don't forget education is important As important as living your lives, As important as keeping that life alive And I hope when you both get that diploma You'll look back at each other and thank each other That even if it didn't turned out like what those books say, The halls could almost, at some point, feel like home

55

Po-ems these days Often leave me in a haze They try to deter my gaze As I hope it's just a phase Skill level means nothing If you always end up flunking On yesterday and today's age old trend If one still lacks the goods Why not fax in some hoods To add to an otherwise cold winter So lounging one day I decided to sift through the hay So please refrain from the hinder But scrolling away I find a knot in said hay And I thought it was about time to sic her Po-ems these days are dumb I'd rather **** my OWN thumb They're as utilitarian as my *** Which is something I often forget to wipe

0

Jan 29, 2015

Jan 29, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC

toots-mccrudiggen-reborn

An Endless Lyrical Flow Graces the Consumer's Ear as They Toil Away at the Clockwork

Po-ems these days Often leave me in a haze They try to deter my gaze As I hope it's just a phase Skill level means nothing If you always end up flunking On yesterday and today's age old trend If one still lacks the goods Why not fax in some hoods To add to an otherwise cold winter So lounging one day I decided to sift through the hay So please refrain from the hinder But scrolling away I find a knot in said hay And I thought it was about time to sic her Po-ems these days are dumb I'd rather **** my OWN thumb They're as utilitarian as my *** Which is something I often forget to wipe

20

and i stuck with flunking luck upon bridging sea and down fishing terk

0

May 4, 2015

May 4, 2015 at 6:16 AM UTC

OneAristocrat

stuck

and i stuck with flunking luck upon bridging sea and down fishing terk

7

enunciating, conversationally the opposite of yelling at a foreigner only wishing to be heard while maintaining my distance from the herd self-assured closet nerd flipping the bird yelling word to all my muthafukkas the late night ruckus causes my focus to shift drifting aimless I try to digress but elementary recess memories have me needing to confess long held secret rendezvous the south bleacher blues and clues to what this all means… obscenely, I expect you to follow and wallow a while here with me only wishing to be heard while maintaining my distance from the herd late model Panel, three channels aftermarket handle, scandal with Randel and the move that opened the world girls and shotgun squirrels, two lucky pearls and the swirly, I’m sorry… one black eye. the year of fry. crystal **** high flying over Wah-Chang sludge ponds drawing power from the universal force and a pretty smile only wishing to be herd while maintaining my distance from the herd meeting resistance with distance running cunningly shunning become a man planning on dying junked up canned heat, Sterno and Dante’s Inferno stomach churning when lacking the black west coast ****** flunking straight life lost little girl, I’m sorry… burnt up rhymer scheming miner trying to unwind, blindly, but kindly only wishing to be herd while maintaining my distance from the heard flash fire, perspiring liar in dire need of a sign crime pile out of style ball sack wilding free range beguiler husting that 20 dollar wellness balloon buffoonery…. T’was June, you see, when it spoke to me the year before two thousand and three granting thee needle freedom preachy? Peach Tea? just like every other fish in the god **** sea……… ……………………… ……. only wishing to be heard while maintain my distance from the herd

0

Jun 14, 2015

Jun 14, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC

s-lyman-temple

do you hear what I hear?

enunciating, conversationally the opposite of yelling at a foreigner only wishing to be heard while maintaining my distance from the herd self-assured closet nerd flipping the bird yelling word to all my muthafukkas the late night ruckus causes my focus to shift drifting aimless I try to digress but elementary recess memories have me needing to confess long held secret rendezvous the south bleacher blues and clues to what this all means… obscenely, I expect you to follow and wallow a while here with me only wishing to be heard while maintaining my distance from the herd late model Panel, three channels aftermarket handle, scandal with Randel and the move that opened the world girls and shotgun squirrels, two lucky pearls and the swirly, I’m sorry… one black eye. the year of fry. crystal **** high flying over Wah-Chang sludge ponds drawing power from the universal force and a pretty smile only wishing to be herd while maintaining my distance from the herd meeting resistance with distance running cunningly shunning become a man planning on dying junked up canned heat, Sterno and Dante’s Inferno stomach churning when lacking the black west coast ****** flunking straight life lost little girl, I’m sorry… burnt up rhymer scheming miner trying to unwind, blindly, but kindly only wishing to be herd while maintaining my distance from the heard flash fire, perspiring liar in dire need of a sign crime pile out of style ball sack wilding free range beguiler husting that 20 dollar wellness balloon buffoonery…. T’was June, you see, when it spoke to me the year before two thousand and three granting thee needle freedom preachy? Peach Tea? just like every other fish in the god **** sea……… ……………………… ……. only wishing to be heard while maintain my distance from the herd

55

what hurts more than flunking, is failing the standards you've set for yourself.

0

May 17, 2017

May 17, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC

allyolly

fiasco

what hurts more than flunking, is failing the standards you've set for yourself.

4

He woke up like he was in a police lineup Almost flunking out never became a regret The library wasn’t exactly where they met The people he knew are still his friends The ones that are gone he’ll never forget He smoked a few packs every ten years But he didn’t really smoke you know It was easy to quit ‘cause it was all for show Not being paid for acting never mattered A friend is being planted in the same row He thanked Jesus enough to be noticed He never felt worthy enough to pray Who asks for what they can’t give away It’s hard being an artist with limits So he said the hurt will never play He didn’t want anyone to take care of him It was hard because he kept his own mind He was going to learn on his own time She told him he didn’t want a family He said he already left his mom behind But one day he noticed his children That was the reason for living now That old prayer was telling him how He still dreamed of long flowing hair But it’s love that his life won’t allow

0

Jul 7, 2017

Jul 7, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC

mark-lecuona

Living With Limits

He woke up like he was in a police lineup Almost flunking out never became a regret The library wasn’t exactly where they met The people he knew are still his friends The ones that are gone he’ll never forget He smoked a few packs every ten years But he didn’t really smoke you know It was easy to quit ‘cause it was all for show Not being paid for acting never mattered A friend is being planted in the same row He thanked Jesus enough to be noticed He never felt worthy enough to pray Who asks for what they can’t give away It’s hard being an artist with limits So he said the hurt will never play He didn’t want anyone to take care of him It was hard because he kept his own mind He was going to learn on his own time She told him he didn’t want a family He said he already left his mom behind But one day he noticed his children That was the reason for living now That old prayer was telling him how He still dreamed of long flowing hair But it’s love that his life won’t allow

25

Can you find the poet In the sea of sunken faces? Do you know where she would hide? Can you think of any places? She's the one who never speaks Always worries, never paces Can you find the poet? Can you find her in yourself? Can you find the faces In the sea of flunking poets? Do you know which ones are failing? Do you think they even know it? They're the ones who keep on trying They are broken but they show it Can you find the faces? Can you find one for yourself?

0

Jun 13, 2014

Jun 13, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC

robyn

can you find

Can you find the poet In the sea of sunken faces? Do you know where she would hide? Can you think of any places? She's the one who never speaks Always worries, never paces Can you find the poet? Can you find her in yourself? Can you find the faces In the sea of flunking poets? Do you know which ones are failing? Do you think they even know it? They're the ones who keep on trying They are broken but they show it Can you find the faces? Can you find one for yourself?

16

Flunking the exam shatters pride, Smashing confidence into pieces. Considering the easy route, As the road to glory is blocked. We must find a way up the wall, Because failure isn’t an option. If we surrender to the cause, Progression will never be achieved. It’s a shame when we fail the test, But ending the quest to victory is a bigger defeat.

0

Jun 23, 2018

Jun 23, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC

survivor48

When Failing the Test

Flunking the exam shatters pride, Smashing confidence into pieces. Considering the easy route, As the road to glory is blocked. We must find a way up the wall, Because failure isn’t an option. If we surrender to the cause, Progression will never be achieved. It’s a shame when we fail the test, But ending the quest to victory is a bigger defeat.

10