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"gpa" poems
Life is a lifelong Balancing act Time that's wasted Never comes back But hear my quandary It's really quite queer What happens when my job Conflicts with my career? What happens when my schooling Disrupts my education? When federal government policies Keep me from graduation? What happens when my GPA Keeps me out of universities? What happens when what I need to do Conflicts with my responsibilities?
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
Responsibility
study, cram, call, make plans... power point, presentation, speech, rewrite... theory, materialism and idealism and the difference, Marx, Freud to psychoanalyze... on to polynomials, linear equations, I make a scientific notation... take a break. (eat) ham sweet and thick with lots of pineapple and some cherries potato bread and cheese PowerAde to rehydrate little vodca with o.j. and cigarette after lunch, breathe . and it’s back to study lab to mentally beat meat. paper due, final today, did I remember to triple check and get rid of paper clips, include a cover sheet... ready to evaluate... I think. ready to second guess, miss dates and time, "you're late" again... 95, 98, 3.5 GPA? pre-test, for final, make sure your research is done, site, source, quote, student rate and double space power nap, smoke again, is the day over yet?..
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
first half of today
To the people who think education majors have it easy, Nothing, and I truly mean nothing, gets under my skin more than people who have the same mindset as you. People like you think that my 3.8 GPA isn’t as worthy as someone else’s in a different major. People like you think education majors can’t possibly be as stressful as other majors. People like you think that my 40-page unit plan doesn’t even begin to compare to your 40-page report. People like you think that teaching is easy. it's ******** I’m not going to sit here and go into detail about all of the difficult assignments I’ve had over the past four years as a middle school math major because frankly you’re just not worth my time. Also, because that would mean that I have something to prove to you, and I don’t. You can’t begin to judge a major until you have sat in on their classes, done their assignments, took their tests, etc. So, for you to judge my major based solely on the fact that I’m teaching children makes you arrogant and ignorant. Imagine the excitement you feel when you get an A on an exam you spent days studying for. Now imagine that same excitement being stripped away from you in a second because someone tells you that your major is easy and that that’s the reason you got such a good grade. Imagine working your **** off to earn Dean’s List every semester you’ve been at school, for someone to turn around and tell you that the only reason you’ve achieved that is because of your easy major. It’s hurtful. I chose to become a teacher because I want to take part in shaping children’s minds. I want to take part in making students grow up enjoying math. I want to take part in making learning fun.   I don’t think that is something I’ll ever regret, no matter how many times you try to bring me down. Please just focus on your own major. Focus on your own difficult assignments, your own difficult tests, and your own difficult projects, that way you can truly strive for success. And I’ll still be here, an education major, cheering you on. Sincerely, A future teacher.
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC
A Future Teacher
To the people who think education majors have it easy, Nothing, and I truly mean nothing, gets under my skin more than people who have the same mindset as you. People like you think that my 3.8 GPA isn’t as worthy as someone else’s in a different major. People like you think education majors can’t possibly be as stressful as other majors. People like you think that my 40-page unit plan doesn’t even begin to compare to your 40-page report. People like you think that teaching is easy. it's ******** I’m not going to sit here and go into detail about all of the difficult assignments I’ve had over the past four years as a middle school math major because frankly you’re just not worth my time. Also, because that would mean that I have something to prove to you, and I don’t. You can’t begin to judge a major until you have sat in on their classes, done their assignments, took their tests, etc. So, for you to judge my major based solely on the fact that I’m teaching children makes you arrogant and ignorant. Imagine the excitement you feel when you get an A on an exam you spent days studying for. Now imagine that same excitement being stripped away from you in a second because someone tells you that your major is easy and that that’s the reason you got such a good grade. Imagine working your **** off to earn Dean’s List every semester you’ve been at school, for someone to turn around and tell you that the only reason you’ve achieved that is because of your easy major. It’s hurtful. I chose to become a teacher because I want to take part in shaping children’s minds. I want to take part in making students grow up enjoying math. I want to take part in making learning fun.   I don’t think that is something I’ll ever regret, no matter how many times you try to bring me down. Please just focus on your own major. Focus on your own difficult assignments, your own difficult tests, and your own difficult projects, that way you can truly strive for success. And I’ll still be here, an education major, cheering you on. Sincerely, A future teacher.
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17
Suicidal tendencies, alleged attempt in 2011 (National Scholar-Athlete) Bipolar with psychotic features, meds necessary (President of student government) Anti-social features, deceptive, manipulative, lying. (Captain of varsity athletics) Qualifies as a pickup. Forfeits all rights. Police involvement if necessary. (President of an all-star rugby club) Extreme aggression. Any homicidal idealization should be taken seriously. (Trustee Scholarship to a renown private college) Narcotics abuse. Marijuana, LSD, Klonopin, ******* Alcohol, Painkillers (3.7 GPA) Masks and shields intentions. Deceptive with professionals. (Active volunteer) I advise that he be admitted to a hospital immediately (Participant in community) Drug abuse counseling, medication, extensive therapy necessary (Leader of peers) Diagnoses fly like a panhandlers love affairs Your inexact science is a disgrace to what I've created A philosophy based on your experience Ignoring the dynamic of the human condition ****** for feeling to much ****** for not feeling enough
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Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
Alleged Dichotomy - Notes from a Doctor
My mind is expanding, But these grades are demanding. Though my ways stand out My GPA is not outstanding. What good is knowledge, If you can’t prove it on paper? I WANT TO SEE THE WORLD!!! But getting good grades is safer. So I must be productive, My right to dream has been abducted, I once considered reflective struggles constructive, But marginal quotas interrupt it I’m feeling inspired, My drive is now fired! Oh but I can’t attend to that now.. Because I can’t study when I’m tired. So I put it off, Dreams are lost, Robot mode on, in a society of full of scholarly knock-offs. "Serendipity does not exist," "You’re choosing to fail if you’re choosing to live," "Why live creatively if you can puff, click or sip?" I’m in an abusive relationship with my To-Do list Don’t lose track, Don’t look back, Because time is money And honey, society will tell you how you spend it. If you just let it.
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Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
The Anti-Hustle
In high school we learn of logarithms, iambic meter how to balance an equation between zinc oxide and excess hydrogen gas– only to find there was no reaction to begin with. We’re told that colleges get to know you through three letter acronyms—ACT, SAT, GPA… and our name is somewhere in the application. It’s repeated to us to the point of meaninglessness, like a perpetually chanted word: Grades, scores and testing, testing, testing. The students they want know everything that will be forgotten by their thirtieth birthday. I anticipate the day that our Geometry teacher is to write an essay on the individual’s struggle against a systematically inhumane society in Orwell’s 1984 only to receive a “D” under the scrutinizing eye of the honor’s English teacher Or, perhaps, the day someone in charge is faced with some insufferable fate the textbooks call chemical stoichiometry, thirty years after repressing memories of having to memorize the periodic table Socrates once said that the youth today will be the demise of civilization. We contradict our parents, are smug in the face of authority and tyrannize our poor teachers— a youth who will ultimately leave behind a world too damaged for our children to inherit. Funny he said this roughly 2,000 years ago– I think my dad said something like that last year. But, until the day we grow up to pay taxes and marry someone we despise, we’re just stupid teenagers.
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Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 11:37 AM UTC
Us Stupid Teenagers (revised)
In high school we learn of logarithms, iambic meter how to balance an equation between zinc oxide and excess hydrogen gas-- only to find there was no reaction to begin with. We're told colleges get to know you through three letter acronyms-- ACT, SAT, GPA And the students they want know everything that they'll forget once they turn thirty. Little do we realize that if our Geometry teacher were to write an analysis on the coexistence of good and evil in To **** a Mockingbird, he would likley receive a "D" under the scrutinizing eye of the honor's English teacher Nor do we see that the art instructor would freeze in her tracks faced with an assignment filled with the insufferable fate of chemical stoiciometry Socrates once said that the youth today will be the demise of civilzation. We contradict our parents, are smug in the face of authority and tyrannize our teachers. Funny he said this roughly 2,000 years ago-- I think my dad said something like that last year. But, until the day we grow up to pay taxes and marry someone we despise, we're just stupid teenagers.
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Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 8:36 AM UTC
Us Stupid Teenagers
dear mother, my mental health is not a spectator sport. you do not get to tell me "you need to go to school to learn to be a decent person" when i am too depressed to get out of bed and then brag about my ACT score. it is not your score. it is mine. dear mother, you do not get to tell me that you are sending me to a psychologist to "learn how to treat other people" and then ask me if i am okay. i am not okay. dear mother, you do not get to watch me hyperventilate under a bed on a school morning and get angry and then brag to your friends about my GPA. it is not your GPA. it is mine. dear mother, you do not get to scream at me for "upsetting your household" and order me to take easier classes and then brag to your friends that your daughter took 5 AP classes. yes, that is hard, but you made it harder. dear mother, you do not get to scold me when, yes, i stayed up all night but didn't finish my work but then brag to your friends about my success. it is not your success. it is mine. dear mother, you do not get to push me down and then comment on how wonderfully i got back up. you do not get to cheer me in success and boo me in defeat. i am not a sports team, i am your daughter dear mother, you are not my mother. you are my fair-weather fan, and yes i am doing well now but i do not have time for autographs. dear mother, goodbye.
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
dear mother
I went from a top ten student with A's all around To a barely B- GPA. I go to school with sadness and a frown Every single Gold Day. I hate the fact that I took your class, A mistake I'll never forget. It's college prep sophomore biology, Not your ******* dictatorship.
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Thanks, Mr. Hodum.
"She is so cute!" said the grand mother type in McDonalds today. **"Yes I have heard that said. Every where we go."** Miss Personality makes an impression... on the young and the old.   Purely unintentional. Little head strong at times. Mostly when awake. She will go far. Disagreements with Nana can be fun at times, '"Lucy! Don't do that! No!" Can ping pong three times.   Then must stop.  Or else! On hearing the verbal exchange between the two one day Gpa asked Miss Lucy, **"What part of 'NO' do you not understand?"** The reply coming from Miss Congeniality was an emphatic "The N." Gpa left the room. Laughing held to elsewhere. Reporting to Nana. She is cute at times. Four now... going on fourteen. But still cute.
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Times
The Boy called Tony by his grandpa and others, lights up his corner of the world. Be it kids or very old Big Kids,(adults who are kids at heart) wherever he goes, “Hi. My name is Tony. What is your name?” Usually following this introduction, if the response is received warmly is, “How old are you?”  Than after that is decided, “My grandpa is really old.” Kindergarten year saw the two of them at the Arctic Circle most days after school. The older “Big Kids”would see him come into Arctic Circle and wait for their turn to talk to the Boy called Tony. Many times they stopped at Tony’s and Gpa’s table and talked before leaving. New people who had not talked to him before but “listened in” on Tony and Friends conversation, they would then stop at the table to say what a “delightful little boy he is”. At the time of this writing, sitting in Arctic Circle, he is regaling a mother about the fine points of Pac Man and Frogger on Gpa’s phone. Let’s see, Gpa had that phone for years and did not know Pac Man and Frogger were on it. And so it goes… And so it went… everywhere he went Tony learned People’s names and remembered them. Later, where ever he happened to see them, “I know you! You work at… or I saw you at…” and the conversation would go off in a multitude of directions… eventually. One Saturday morning in January after the “BIG GAME!” (see note) Tony, his Aunt Kristen and Gpa were entering IHOP for breakfast. He bounced through the door still wearing his basket ball uniform as an older couple was exiting. Gpa was holding the door for the older “big kids” when the woman got all excited and said to Gpa, “Isn’t that the Arctic Circle Boy?” At which Gpa replied with certainty, “Yes it is.” Graduating from kindergarten, if such a thing is possible,the class sang a song “Don’t Talk to Strangers”. Gpa thought at the time it was a scary little piece. But what does he know. Later in the afternoon a couple came walking toward Tony. Tony observed them approaching, he studied them intently, and then just as they were going by him, he called out, “HELLO STRANGERS!” Gpa thinks they are the only strangers he really knows. ——————(c)09-12-2011————————-
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Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 1:52 AM UTC
The Boy called Tony
The Boy called Tony by his grandpa and others, lights up his corner of the world. Be it kids or very old Big Kids,(adults who are kids at heart) wherever he goes, “Hi. My name is Tony. What is your name?” Usually following this introduction, if the response is received warmly is, “How old are you?”  Than after that is decided, “My grandpa is really old.” Kindergarten year saw the two of them at the Arctic Circle most days after school. The older “Big Kids”would see him come into Arctic Circle and wait for their turn to talk to the Boy called Tony. Many times they stopped at Tony’s and Gpa’s table and talked before leaving. New people who had not talked to him before but “listened in” on Tony and Friends conversation, they would then stop at the table to say what a “delightful little boy he is”. At the time of this writing, sitting in Arctic Circle, he is regaling a mother about the fine points of Pac Man and Frogger on Gpa’s phone. Let’s see, Gpa had that phone for years and did not know Pac Man and Frogger were on it. And so it goes… And so it went… everywhere he went Tony learned People’s names and remembered them. Later, where ever he happened to see them, “I know you! You work at… or I saw you at…” and the conversation would go off in a multitude of directions… eventually. One Saturday morning in January after the “BIG GAME!” (see note) Tony, his Aunt Kristen and Gpa were entering IHOP for breakfast. He bounced through the door still wearing his basket ball uniform as an older couple was exiting. Gpa was holding the door for the older “big kids” when the woman got all excited and said to Gpa, “Isn’t that the Arctic Circle Boy?” At which Gpa replied with certainty, “Yes it is.” Graduating from kindergarten, if such a thing is possible,the class sang a song “Don’t Talk to Strangers”. Gpa thought at the time it was a scary little piece. But what does he know. Later in the afternoon a couple came walking toward Tony. Tony observed them approaching, he studied them intently, and then just as they were going by him, he called out, “HELLO STRANGERS!” Gpa thinks they are the only strangers he really knows. ——————(c)09-12-2011————————-
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8
depression is not crippling sadness as most think it is. well, sometimes. it is apathy most of the time who cares? no point. everything ***** I lost my job today cried, a little but I cry about everything. mainly apathetic now I truly have no reason to ever get out of bed sure, I'll look for another way to live but this ***** leaves me with no motivation no motivation to apply to colleges, even though I have a 3.9 GPA no motivation to hang out with friends even though I am lonelier than ever no motivation to eat food even though I am starving after I left my now "old work" I had the impulsive decision to rescue a dog. maybe if I have another creature to look after love feed I will start to care for myself, too. the shelter made my heart hurt the kittens weren't crying just sleeping in their jail cells uninterested in life or their possible new friend looking at their possible rescuer with disinterest looking through their cage like me. finnegan was a terrier mix a stray he was whining licked my hand when I reached to him eight years old missing his right eye life has trampled him yet he is not hardened I cried with him as I walked him around the play area he sniffed everything he could. curious investigating not crying anymore just happy to be free from the hell in his cage he treated the workers with affection like he treated me with affection it took awhile until he came close and cried while I pat him climbed in my lap and cried I know buddy walked him inside. the woman, at the counter looked at me eagerly, "so?!" I looked away. can't do it not today I'm sorry him and I are both looking for affection love a way out of this mess. but I can't help him. no job, no sure way I can buy him food buy me food. I can't buy a living creature out of impulse. he needed security I cannot provide that only warmth. I need to be happy he cannot provide that only warmth. goodbye, cutie puller of heartstrings I promise someone better than me will take you away. not today lost myself lost my passion lost my lust lost my job lost my soul.
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 5:45 PM UTC
A NOW UNEMPLOYED HOPELESS MESS IN THEIR EARLY TWENTIES
depression is not crippling sadness as most think it is. well, sometimes. it is apathy most of the time who cares? no point. everything ***** I lost my job today cried, a little but I cry about everything. mainly apathetic now I truly have no reason to ever get out of bed sure, I'll look for another way to live but this ***** leaves me with no motivation no motivation to apply to colleges, even though I have a 3.9 GPA no motivation to hang out with friends even though I am lonelier than ever no motivation to eat food even though I am starving after I left my now "old work" I had the impulsive decision to rescue a dog. maybe if I have another creature to look after love feed I will start to care for myself, too. the shelter made my heart hurt the kittens weren't crying just sleeping in their jail cells uninterested in life or their possible new friend looking at their possible rescuer with disinterest looking through their cage like me. finnegan was a terrier mix a stray he was whining licked my hand when I reached to him eight years old missing his right eye life has trampled him yet he is not hardened I cried with him as I walked him around the play area he sniffed everything he could. curious investigating not crying anymore just happy to be free from the hell in his cage he treated the workers with affection like he treated me with affection it took awhile until he came close and cried while I pat him climbed in my lap and cried I know buddy walked him inside. the woman, at the counter looked at me eagerly, "so?!" I looked away. can't do it not today I'm sorry him and I are both looking for affection love a way out of this mess. but I can't help him. no job, no sure way I can buy him food buy me food. I can't buy a living creature out of impulse. he needed security I cannot provide that only warmth. I need to be happy he cannot provide that only warmth. goodbye, cutie puller of heartstrings I promise someone better than me will take you away. not today lost myself lost my passion lost my lust lost my job lost my soul.
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141
This is not a poem about ****** assault. This is not a poem about you taking everything from me. This is not a poem about you taking the little girl I was once and forcing her to see how terrible the world can truly be. This is not a poem about you taking my 4.0 GPA and shoving it under your bed with the remnants of my underwear. This is not a poem about you taking the comfort out of physical affection. This is not a poem about you pretending not to hear me when I begged you to stop. This is not a poem about me pretending to fall asleep so I could pretend like I didn't remember it happened again. This is not a poem about you blaming the alcohol. This is not a poem about you blaming me. This is not a poem.
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Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
not a survivor poem (1st draft)
I have a name I have an address;                           & some contact                                                       information _I am educated_ I list working on a degree in your field          June 2012        And many relevant classes.                            GPA: 3.0kay I graduated high school with flying colors.       June 2008 _I have experience_ I've done a few interesting things before:           Various Times Various Positions, Various Places                                                 * I worked one or two places you might even have heard of. * I even got work on a product that you probably use.           My experience isn't that extensive:                  I'm Not That Old A Personal Project, Various Clubs                                                 * I'm just graduating,                                                                       * How much can you really expect?                                               _I have many skills_ I claim to do: some things that you do;                                           I claim to use: some of the tools that you use.                               I look pretty much like all the others in this pile:                           My content is glittering, my formatting pristine,                           But I'm special. Pick me!                                                 9.19.11                                                 D.B. Guy
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
A poem for corporate recruiters
I have a name I have an address;                           & some contact                                                       information _I am educated_ I list working on a degree in your field          June 2012        And many relevant classes.                            GPA: 3.0kay I graduated high school with flying colors.       June 2008 _I have experience_ I've done a few interesting things before:           Various Times Various Positions, Various Places                                                 * I worked one or two places you might even have heard of. * I even got work on a product that you probably use.           My experience isn't that extensive:                  I'm Not That Old A Personal Project, Various Clubs                                                 * I'm just graduating,                                                                       * How much can you really expect?                                               _I have many skills_ I claim to do: some things that you do;                                           I claim to use: some of the tools that you use.                               I look pretty much like all the others in this pile:                           My content is glittering, my formatting pristine,                           But I'm special. Pick me!                                                 9.19.11                                                 D.B. Guy
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26
I was thinking today about my struggles and realized that grades don't define who you are at all, yeah they might boost your future but in the long run they don't do **** we're only put in school for the systems sake, from long restless nights of homework to studying in class with obnoxious teenagers, school is a way for the government to keep track of all these broken souls trying to get by, they want to know what we learn by taking tests? What's the point if we can't regurgitate what we learn on a test? You're all a sudden worthless? **** that.. take a deep breath, we're not here for an outstanding GPA.. they just "want to know what we've learned" so let them have it and let yourself be done.
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
Grades
GPA, I know you don’t want us to cry But its hard, knowing this is goodbye Good times and laughs we got to share It came too soon, it is not fair I keep wondering when I will wake from this dream It is all so surreal, fake it does seem I hate death for taking you away I keep telling myself that he will pay But then I remember before you died I could see the emptiness behind your eyes The sadness and pain you held within No way out till’ you gave in You are happy now, your pain is at ease And when the wind blows I know it is you in the breeze And when the leaves fall Its you in the autumn trees And when looking at the ocean It’s you in the sea Finally, you are free Watch us from above, and make sure we’re okay For we will be thinking of you every day The love in our hearts will continue to grow Although the grieving process will be slow But with your help we will endure We will conquer, I am sure Time heals all, that’s what that say For now, we’ll take it day by day And when I look, at the stars above I will know it is your love
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Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 10:23 PM UTC
Grandpa
Dear mentor: You taught me to see the world Through the eyes of opportunity Gave me the bravery and the delight, and desire To flout expectations Disregard my GPA And soar to new heights, Taught me to value education As the greatest gift that could be given. Dear friend: You taught me to smile Because I could make a difference To be kind, Because everyone is insecure To laugh when the stress overwhelmed me, To see the humour in politics And philosophy and the human condition. Dear mentor: You taught me about debate Taught me about family Beyond genetics, Bound by common passion. And when you left, I realized, You'd taught me, in turn, To teach others.
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
To Holly
i guess it came out wrong. i guess i didn't mean to say, "I only live for my grades." i mean, i live for the stars, planets, consellations, and the black holes. i live for the universe surrounding me. but, i guess i was also telling the truth. the only things i care about are my grades. i hyperventilate when i don't have the perfect grades. i literally cry when things don't go my way. i need the highest gpa possible. it's my only chance to a future, its my only hope. its everything i dream about, think about, and live for. so, i guess i was telling the truth when i said i had nothing else to live for except for my grades. i guess i should've let you take me to the couselor. i think i need one.
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
Mr.K II
Your words struck me hard- though you never heard. Now I am no longer your caged bird. I guess our relationship didn't fare It soothes me that new girlfriend looks like a pferd. Keep lowering your standards, bae. I'll be raising my gpa! Enjoy being catfished I've been reestablished. I guess it was you that needed me, I'll be reading under this tree. Why- of all people would you hurt me? A nerd? Your thoughts must've been blurred. How will you manage in geometry? That A is history. Now go float away on your ****** canoe Maybe it was me that was too good for you.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
this poem is terrible/guys are dumb
HEY YOU ...who? me? YEAH! Zoom out for a second, ******* While you're sitting there Some sorry Sob Messed up Girl Who's so preoccupied With every drift In some idiot's mood WILL YOU TAKE A FREAKING SECOND And think about what you're doing? Your GPA is probably off crying somewhere In the fetal position Stop worrying abou - HEY YOU YEAH YOU WHEN DID YOU GET SO PISSY yeah i'm wallowing in misery but i'm only human! i guess i shouldn't have let him get to me but he is so sweet to me when he wants to be... Like I care! You wanna be a failure Forever? You've been doing a great ******* job of it For almost 20 years Guess you don't wanna Mess up your streak... ...well that was rude. do you mind? i can't help what's on my mind i really think i love this guy just not the coward he's shaping up to be love should be anything but cowardly... FORGET ABOUT IT Forget about him! You don't have time for this! See that great Big Ugly Threatening Thing over there? Yeah, the one with the Baseball bat That's all the homework you've got This weekend. Stop being such a whiny *** Pull it together. alright! alright! i won't talk to him tonight i'll try i will... to get back on track...
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 4:31 PM UTC
Arguments with my GPA
how dare you not have mint chocolate chip available on my birthday, do you know how many years i and my mother wait to have the mint chocolate chip ice cream of our life? answer me, baskin robbins although i know her eating such sweet flavor is only a figment i can't wish on my birthday candle the only birthday candle i got was from a sushi joint mother, i didn't get a single present not even now, not even tomorrow i'm going to the future with my boyfriend he's called dean, also god, also gpa all i want is to die my boyfriend's real name is diploma i wonder if i'd ever want to date a boy all i want is to die answer me, baskin robbins do you also want me to die? you've known me for all my life i don't remember i don't remember the joy of being born mother, did i laugh when i escaped your womb? did i even smile? you must've been aware of that right i want to go to a baskin robbins outlet where they have mint chocolate chip
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Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
mint chocolate chip ice cream
Eye lashes brase my brow with a flash of awareness. Of gravity, of heart rate, with fading memories of mental images and sinking in reality.   Argument insues among the self "why do I have to get up?" "I don't know the god **** answer, just get up." It goes on repeat. Get up, get up, get up. Frozen in the warm sheets and safe feeling that just barely lets the pressure fade. "Why can't I stay in the twilight of REM and awake where my body is light doesn't hurt and my mind has solace?" "I don't know, just get up." Get up, get up, get up. This feeling has lost me GPA points and this feeling has cost me jobs. Place my hands on my chest and streach out my legs. Rip away from the fetal position and complement myself relentlessly. Get up, get up, get up. "You're okay" I wisper as though the echo will ensure it's truth.   Deep breathing to irratic breathing to controled breathing. Rise, wash, repeat. Get up, get up, GET UP. Rip the sheets off like a bandaid and immediately stand. Run to the warm shower. Pretend it's rain and back to deep breathing. Complement what a great job I'm doing, getting out of bed, not even crying. How proud I should be I'm taking care of myself - by taking a shower. A basic Target pattern, fortress of solitude. Consumed in the hot artificial rain drops I find another fleeting moment of solace. Deep breathing, "you're okay." Let the water run over my shoulders until it turns cold. Dry off in the shower, take advantage of the ignored greenhouse gas - bask in the humidity. Look into my dark eyes in the mirror, and ask questions. And hope they are good that day.
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Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 11:30 PM UTC
Morning!
Eye lashes brase my brow with a flash of awareness. Of gravity, of heart rate, with fading memories of mental images and sinking in reality.   Argument insues among the self "why do I have to get up?" "I don't know the god **** answer, just get up." It goes on repeat. Get up, get up, get up. Frozen in the warm sheets and safe feeling that just barely lets the pressure fade. "Why can't I stay in the twilight of REM and awake where my body is light doesn't hurt and my mind has solace?" "I don't know, just get up." Get up, get up, get up. This feeling has lost me GPA points and this feeling has cost me jobs. Place my hands on my chest and streach out my legs. Rip away from the fetal position and complement myself relentlessly. Get up, get up, get up. "You're okay" I wisper as though the echo will ensure it's truth.   Deep breathing to irratic breathing to controled breathing. Rise, wash, repeat. Get up, get up, GET UP. Rip the sheets off like a bandaid and immediately stand. Run to the warm shower. Pretend it's rain and back to deep breathing. Complement what a great job I'm doing, getting out of bed, not even crying. How proud I should be I'm taking care of myself - by taking a shower. A basic Target pattern, fortress of solitude. Consumed in the hot artificial rain drops I find another fleeting moment of solace. Deep breathing, "you're okay." Let the water run over my shoulders until it turns cold. Dry off in the shower, take advantage of the ignored greenhouse gas - bask in the humidity. Look into my dark eyes in the mirror, and ask questions. And hope they are good that day.
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31
Where I’m From I am from mosquito lotion From Burt’s Bees and soft jazz. I am from dancing with my grandfather on the wooden floor (My feet, bare, pink with tiny toes Stepping on his shiny shoes as we twirled.) I am from the rainy mornings The hiding places Where no one thinks to look, And I sit and wait - alone but not lonely. I am from the indecisiveness and good humour From the boy who owned only wooden shoes and the lady with the diamonds I’m from forget me nots, And the kiss me goodnights. I’m from the hurt knees and Starry Starry Nights With a special dedication to you And I’ll believe in what I want to, thank you very much. I am from the middle seat to the left of the dinner table, Second-is-best and Jollibee. From the comfortable silence To the “authentic” family ghost stories. The childhood my father gave up to be able to grow up And support his family. I am from the crumbly track, Fastening sharp spikes on the bottom of my shoes, The jumpy nerves as I approach my starting block. From the thump of my heart, my shoes slapping the ground in a rhythm I know so well. From the rush, the thrill of crossing that finish line. Watching the day surrender to night, my team stands beside me. And still I am running On my shelf I keep a blank notebook Waiting to be filled with secret fears, adventures and bigger-than-life dreams. No one knows it exists. If they find it, they’ll know I want to escape. I am from these fitful nights, The toss and turn but don’t wake me ups. The wanting to be a dream catcher, not just a dream passerby. In dreams I find no one molding me for a legacy, for a perfect GPA, for a successful future; Complete control.
0
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 11:14 AM UTC
Where I'm From
Where I’m From I am from mosquito lotion From Burt’s Bees and soft jazz. I am from dancing with my grandfather on the wooden floor (My feet, bare, pink with tiny toes Stepping on his shiny shoes as we twirled.) I am from the rainy mornings The hiding places Where no one thinks to look, And I sit and wait - alone but not lonely. I am from the indecisiveness and good humour From the boy who owned only wooden shoes and the lady with the diamonds I’m from forget me nots, And the kiss me goodnights. I’m from the hurt knees and Starry Starry Nights With a special dedication to you And I’ll believe in what I want to, thank you very much. I am from the middle seat to the left of the dinner table, Second-is-best and Jollibee. From the comfortable silence To the “authentic” family ghost stories. The childhood my father gave up to be able to grow up And support his family. I am from the crumbly track, Fastening sharp spikes on the bottom of my shoes, The jumpy nerves as I approach my starting block. From the thump of my heart, my shoes slapping the ground in a rhythm I know so well. From the rush, the thrill of crossing that finish line. Watching the day surrender to night, my team stands beside me. And still I am running On my shelf I keep a blank notebook Waiting to be filled with secret fears, adventures and bigger-than-life dreams. No one knows it exists. If they find it, they’ll know I want to escape. I am from these fitful nights, The toss and turn but don’t wake me ups. The wanting to be a dream catcher, not just a dream passerby. In dreams I find no one molding me for a legacy, for a perfect GPA, for a successful future; Complete control.
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39
Tony and Gpa were driving down Blue Lakes when they were approaching a construction site. The work had been going on for some time but today it was really a mess. Tony said, “why do they make such a mess of the ground grandpa? It looks really bad.” Inspiration hit me. Relate this messy lot to life. “Sometimes things have to look really bad before it can be make into something beautiful and useful. A piece of canvas can be laying around for years, ***** a mess and then someone picks it up, cleans it off to discover it will work perfectly for a painting. The spots are covered and the artist begins the first brush strokes. Soon, what was ***** and no value to anyone becomes a wonderful work of art by the masters hand. ” “It is much like people. They can be ***** and broken, look a mess because of drug use, not living right.” “God can pick them up, clean them off and begin painting a beautiful picture. Where once was a disaster now it beauty.” Granted, the above is a little more but not much more, than what gpa said to Tony that day. The italic was added when gpa wrote this. Anger, envy, strife, and unforgiveness ( your choice here) can soil the canvas of life. Words said in anger can never be taken back. All the other hurts and hangups in life can dissolve into the background when forgiveness is granted and accepted. Forgiveness can cover many a stain and when the light reflects off our picture only the beauty of forgiveness reaches out to others. I know many forgiven people. Beautiful people.
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 6:06 PM UTC
Tony and the Dirt Pile
Tony and Gpa were driving down Blue Lakes when they were approaching a construction site. The work had been going on for some time but today it was really a mess. Tony said, “why do they make such a mess of the ground grandpa? It looks really bad.” Inspiration hit me. Relate this messy lot to life. “Sometimes things have to look really bad before it can be make into something beautiful and useful. A piece of canvas can be laying around for years, ***** a mess and then someone picks it up, cleans it off to discover it will work perfectly for a painting. The spots are covered and the artist begins the first brush strokes. Soon, what was ***** and no value to anyone becomes a wonderful work of art by the masters hand. ” “It is much like people. They can be ***** and broken, look a mess because of drug use, not living right.” “God can pick them up, clean them off and begin painting a beautiful picture. Where once was a disaster now it beauty.” Granted, the above is a little more but not much more, than what gpa said to Tony that day. The italic was added when gpa wrote this. Anger, envy, strife, and unforgiveness ( your choice here) can soil the canvas of life. Words said in anger can never be taken back. All the other hurts and hangups in life can dissolve into the background when forgiveness is granted and accepted. Forgiveness can cover many a stain and when the light reflects off our picture only the beauty of forgiveness reaches out to others. I know many forgiven people. Beautiful people.
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7
sun and moon stand side-by-side in the great starless sky of this Monday Sunday Tuesday workweek with ambulance stoplight caution I leap from crevice to crack of the ***** cement walkways that tear across snowy fields staring at the world around me - faces as solemn unreserved apathetic mirrors of nothing in their corresponding souls pair them off in dialogues of the triumphs of the fabled GPA - its ********** growling dripping fangs embedded in their minds since sloppy second-hand birth and I cry out and I cry alone for these are the summers winters springs falls etc and so on of my discontent for I am a man among gods gods of capitalism and communism  and social disorder and bureaucracy gods of music and poetry and written spoken words and fashionability and the only false evidence of such godly aspirations remain on my body as fading bitemarks on my wrists from when once I tried so valiantly to tear my technicolor blood from these incontinent arms but even in such times as those there was no salvation but for yellow-staining death sticks clutched between shaking fingers and melting shots fired down raw fleshy throat in rapid secession the gods I hold so dear have left me for whatever come what may in these places of my mind filled with words and thoughts and images of your everything thrashing against nothing
0
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 11:44 AM UTC
Winter Solstice