"lecturer" poems
Today the Irish people witnessed an eclipse in their senses. The morning came over all queer. Nobody noticed, except the king of bookworms in the book of Kells, and the mice in the Campanile. I witnessed the eclipse from a windowless room on the 4th floor of the Arts block. Edmund Spenser's poem, The Faerie Queene, shall henceforth be named, *Long **** by jury of 5 English Lit. Students and a Lecturer. Also, Sinn Fein plans to build Jerusalem in Ireland's green and pleasant land.
Lines written last night over a cup of sugary tea in a public house in North Dublin.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax.
The clock's voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats.
The clock insists: a lecturer demonstrating,
Loudly, with finger raised, when the class has gone.
But time flows through the room, light flows through the room
Like someone picking flowers, like someone whistling
Without a tune, like talk in front of a fire,
Like a woman knitting or a child snipping at paper.
3.3k
Once upon a time:
An aged rabbi talking with two men
Asked them about their holiday in Paris
The first man said: Oh, I hated Paris
There was muck and filth everywhere I went
Stray dogs and prostitutes roamed the foul streets
And the Parisians were incessantly rude
The second man said: Oh, I loved Paris
There were flowers everywhere I went
Artists and beauty, writers scribbling away
And the Parisians were so kind to me
And so:
The rabbi said to them (his voice was kind):
Each of you found the Paris you wanted to find
(Worked up [or down, or sideways…] from a story Rabbi Joel Goor, a visiting lecturer at the University of San Diego in 1975, told his students.)
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
Mount Kenya University; our school
Has really scaled the heights
Climbed the mountains of education
In and outside the country.
However, we as students have to sweat it out
To climb personal mountains of education.
That’s why am not happy
From Monday to Friday
My precious time and fare
Gets wasted
So that I can attend lectures.
Here I am
A digitalized engineering student
Who has designed a robot
For taking me up there above the clouds
To punish they who brought
All this book-struggling to us.
The robot is climbing up
The steep steps of the atmosphere.
In heaven I am now
Holding a cane.
I dispenses three hot strokes of the cane
On Eve’s buttocks
Then advances towards her husband.
But Michael the Arch-angel
Kicks me back to my seat
At Uniafric house
Where am listening to a lecturer
Who is possibly lecturing for eternity
He does not seem to understand
That my dry throat needs some unlocking
That my lover
Is waiting for me.
Have a look at Nairobi city!
Lit like a bush
Full of countless glow worms.
Look at the beautiful
Gleaming lights of Tribeka club!
At the cheap hotels
Located at Odeon Cinema
Am forced to take lunch
Of chips which cost thirty bob
They say it’s usually prepared
Using some poisonous electricity transformer oil.
My pockets are
really too small
for the likes of Java.
But my fellow mountain climbers
Let’s fold the sleeves of our shirts
To hold onto the mountain’s
tricky walls for guidance
To climb all the way to the top.
And of course
We will have plenty to enjoy
In the snow capped peak of the mountain
Armed with huge jackets
For preventing the destructive advances
Of the then present world.
©2013 Vetelo Ngila
The writer is a Journalism student at Mount Kenya University, Nairobi campus, Kenya.
Contact: [email protected] OR [email protected]
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 6:31 AM UTC
We will start with every Jew of every sect.
then every Muslim of every sect.
then every Christian of every sect.
then every Buddist of every sect.
Then every Vedic Hindu of every sect.
then every Animist of every sect.
then every New Ager of every sect.
then every person who lives "religiously".
then every person who "believes in and worships" any "god" or "goddess".
then every person of either *** or any of the five skin colours.
then the redheads.
then the disabled.
then the "gays" male or female.
then the "Politicians" of any belief.
then every member or supporter of any Oligarchy anywhere.
then every Capitalist and supporters of every sect.
then every Socialist and supporters of every sect.
then every Liberal and supporters of every sect.
then every Monarchist and supporters of every sect.
then every "aristocrat" and their supporters.
then every Militarist and supporters of every sect.
then every Fascist and supporters of every sect.
then every "Freedom" lover of whatever belief.
then every Revolutionary and supporters of whatever cause.
then every Criminal of whatever crime.
every Hippy.
every Ecofreak.
every alcoholic user.
every tobacco smoker.
every Cannabis smoker.
every priest of every "religion"
every Khat chewer.
every ***** of any junk.
every celebrity especially public ones.
every historian.
every novelist.
every poet.
every lecturer.
every expert.
every "adviser".
every spokesperson.
every print or electronic journalist especially.
every Television chat show host.
every one else.
Its the only way to get neither War nor Peace
on this war ravaged planet,
but simple existence without any corruption or criminality.
and then who will be left?.
NO ONE!!
Except me and my twin flame
and oh boy will we have a great time of it.
Alone but all one.
just us and the Isness of the Universe.
wandering this beautiful playground gifted to us by the Isness of the Universe.
The Isness of the Universe to walk with and talk with.
Fruit hanging from trees .
Cold clear waters to drink.
Nuts to crunch.
oh and Amber our huge sheppie--
connosseur of Pork Crackling
and doggy nonsense and wisdom.
www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
May we not discuss long run dividend payments model today?
Student asks.
Can you suggest which Deal Model is suited for us?
Lecturer replies:
Deal or No deal
Posh eggs or humble eggs
were not at BREXIT hands
A voice of Saint chanting:
Where there is a will there is always a deal.
Is this the best moment to have a silent choir class instead?
Lecturer announces.
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 7:28 AM UTC
I was in church Sunday morning
The sun was high in its own urning
The praises ran out loud and strong
I definitely was in church where I belong
There was a Guest Minister from another church
He preached on seeking victory and who to call
What the Preacher spoke, “Walk, Stand, Shout, Talk, Look and Dance”
This meant overcoming struggles in chance
Then following the steps will help you advance
It was a distinction at every stance
The Minister was definitely a Teacher, Lecturer and a child of God
I admired his chosen words
The sentences with the words made my heart swirl
A man of God and yes I have heard
Taking victory to the next level
Putting struggle in a shovel
Advance to awake
It’s the power of victory in the take
Turning struggles into an overcoming stake
Yet stand on your feet
You have gained victory and scored zero on defeat
God has always been the rejoicing treat
To walk and been blessed is a welcomed retreat.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I wish there was some way I could express to you how you make me feel.
Though the common language we share is different from both our mother tongues,
though I can get over my fear of sounding incredibly self absorbed,
I just can't find the right words or the right way,
because it's a lot more than that.
You are a gift. You are a blessing. You are what everyone needs
because everyone deserve to be seen the way you see me.
You see beneath my beautiful, you see beneath my perfect, you
see the story underneath my clothes and every other song lyric written about being seeing for who one truly is.
I don't put make up on for you, hell I don't even shower,
and we've already talked about pooping, say what, right?
I cooked for you and I'm the most nervous cook cause I'm shadowed by the concepts of all real women having to be excellent cooks, and I was not nervous at all.
I've told you everything about me.
You are the only man in this whole wide universe who knows everything about me.
And you're still here. You still like me. I still make you laugh and you me.
I've never met someone so... so... human. I see the very essence of humanity gushing out of you its actually mesmerizing.
I must confess I smoke more now cause it's another excuse to spend more time with you.
I keep turning every few minutes to check the buttons on the lift hoping it goes all the way up to the 9th floor and bring you down to me.
I long to meet you its genuinely like a nicotine break, like how you wait for the lecturer to give the first interval to step out for a quick smoke.
It's exactly like that but so much stronger, and unlike nicotine you are good for me and I would never ever try to give you up.
You and I, its not ******
Honestly, you are a brother, father, friend, soulmate, lover all combined in this surreal specimen of a man, even after one and a half months I cannot still believe I met you. Or more so that men like you exist.
I would love to take this to the next level, rip your clothes off and let you make sweet love to me,
but if that's not what you want I'm ok with being what we are right now.
I really am.
I guess I just want to say thank you for seeing me for who I am.
It's been so long and I really really needed this.
I now feel empowered and I will owe you my self-confidence and self-esteem,
honestly,
kiitos
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
I was in my chemistry class (lecture #2) and the professor was asking a series of questions. At first, hands were flying up, the answers were easy. But as questions got more complex, and the odds of being right fell off, confidence and raised-hands faltered.
I sit the front row because I film the lectures on my iPad, and there I was, doing my usual bit - taking detailed, color coded notes. If the lecturer mentioned something, I noted it, with my #5 mechanical pencil, but that something could become a heading or a bullet-point in a larger tableau. Those, I would color code with one of several gel pens - tracing carefully over the pencil. Later, in review, I might hi-lite these points with neon, phosphorescent highlighters. (I have a strict color coding system).
I tell you all that because it describes how focused I get on my note taking in classes. I don’t usually interact much due to my filming.
Suddenly, I noticed an unusual hush. I looked up and realized, to my trauma, that the professor had addressed me. He was looking fixedly at me, bent over with his hands on his knees (he’s on a platform).
“Pardon?” I said, meekly.
“Don’t just mouth the answer,” he repeated (apparently), exasperatedly, “say it out loud!”
I thought back to his last question and I offered, “Magnesium nitride,” but he tilted his head like he was waiting for more, “gave off ammonia as it mixed with the water?” I finish the answer like a question.
“Exactly!” he said, standing back up after giving his knees a little slap with his palms. “Thanks for JOINING us,” he says, and after checking his seating chart on his lectern, he added, “MS. Vionet.”
I took a shocked umbrage at this (scolding?), my whole body turning a defensive, atomic pink. What did I do - I thought - why was he being so sassy with me?
I doubt he REALLY wants answers just called out.
It might be a long year.
Sep 7, 2022
Sep 7, 2022 at 12:45 PM UTC
I never asked for this
But when does anybody get what he asks for
or knows what he wants
or what he is chosen for
I only see people
behaving like circus monkeys
not even trained tigers have that look
a tiger is a tiger till death
be careful
It is only your life at stake
too much tolerance breeds blandness
dust under the rug
chatter and gossip
vomited on the radio, the news
injecting fear and chocolate blood
without any risk
spreading only a rotten stench
as if joy meant showing your colgate smile
just like a giant billboard telling you to let go
of the fight
not to resist and become like Mikey Mouse
with four fingers and the grin of death
****** got more style
I’d rather listen to an angry *****
than any anchor woman
or any senator
than any businessman
or lecturer, teacher, parent
I’d rather be depressed
or with a pain in my stomach
like the one I felt when a
frustrated love
told me...
"never change"
when I expected something else
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
making analogies
to express how i feel
but it feels a bit patah
like when i tell my therapist
i feel like a cactus that needs orange juice
and they excitedly pen it down
but i dont even understand what i mean
but analogies dont work
when you need to explain to your lecturer
why you're always late
they don't work when you ffk your friends
" again?? this is the fifth time this month!"
but what can i say but,
" i just feel like an ocean with a door,
Paralysed as people keep opening and shutting up"
...
...
They wont understand.
Because my analogies are broken.
Like my a/c that refuses to stay cold
what use is an analogy is no one can understand?
18/04/08
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
*Every word you speak is not relevant to meThe lives of Socrates and Plato do not matter to me Yet when your eyes light up,my heart does too
How do I avoid falling inlove with my lecturer like many girls do*
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
In this competition called life
Its a dog eat dog world
And the other candidates
Strive to fight *****
Sometimes its not
What you know
But who you know
That will get you known
You're just not good enough
Next to someone who
Doesn't sleep so rough
And has the right kind of blood
His dad is an engineer
And the mom's a lecturer
Grandpa is a hotshot lawyer
And no one you know even has a career
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
The lecturer stands, waving her hands
Wildly gesticulating
Squawking and screeching and and humming and preaching
Whilst our minds fix on matriculating
"Please, please I beg of you
Responsible for shaping heads
Tell your children this is true -
Use any verb other than 'said'!"
She demonstrates the dialogue tags
That we sages can impart
"Replied", "enquired", "sighed", "ragged"
"Norted", "blorted", "ogled", "blarted" -
But if a child uses all these
What kind of field will they have built?
Cohesive, engaging, with wonderful staging
Or splotted and sploged like a patchwork quilt?
For you see -
All the words inside your head
The ones who unwittingly cover for "said"
Are the drink-addled maidens you see in the street
Holding their heels and walking in bare feet
Flipping their hairs and waving their phones
Cackling and snickering in shrilliing, thrilling tones
As their best friends, the adverbs, grab them by their hair
Determined to prevent an emetic scare
To-ing and fro-ing, and never quite knowing
Where exactly it is they are going
All they know is they eschew intervention
By boldly pleading for more and more attention
But "said" is a lady of quiet grace
Wearing long tresses, muted dresses and a fair face
And sits beside each word with a natural restraint
Holding up quotations without complaint
Till it blends through the text like smooth, creamy paint
And fades till it becomes so, so faint
That it only feels natural to focus instead
On the intentions of the characters inside of your head
It's a word that fills most teachers with dread
But I earnestly plead to befriend the word "said"
For she's a hard-working lady with quiet conviction
- Does that help with your language affliction?
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
Believe me or not
When I was young
I dreamed to be an astronaut
Believe me or not
As the youngest daughter
Mom said I'd better be a female doctor
Believe me or not
When I grew older
I became passionate working as a teacher
Believe me or not
I wanted to be better
so few years later
I studied to be a lecturer..
Believe me or not
Now that I am much much older
All I wanted to do is..
just to become wiser and wiser...
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
Kirui Frank junior is thankful to Eliot,
The founder of this vast site
The pioneer of hellopoetry
The mentor and mother of both young and old
Gents and ladies who know little
About the vast field of poetry
I'm specifically thankful
For in this site,
I met a mother....a lecturer who cares
She corrects me and advice me
She whips me when I mess repetitively
Name withheld for good reason
Here I met old friends who proved real
I thank you
Rao
Quinfinn
Pradip.
Amongst many
I met agemates who proved real
I love you
You are many
I can't mention all of you
I met young people who proved good writers
I am happy for all of you.
Save for two pirates
Who betrayed themselves by sending mails
To dupe us
I am also happy for them,
For we get to learn from you...
In all of the mentioned
I love to share to the world
The feelings of my happiness
In the poems you post
From love
To hate
To days journals
To short orature
To songs
To puns
To short composition
To historic poems
And others
I learn from every piece
I like every piece
In all I see the beginner,the pioneer,the one and only Eliot.
And this honest thankful note be granted
Someday I will donate something better
To show my concern and heartfelt love.
Thank you again.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
I never asked for this
But when does anybody get what he asks for
Or knows what he wants
Or what he is chosen for
I only see people
Behaving like circus monkeys
Not even trained tigers have that look
A tiger is a tiger till death
Be careful
It is only your life at stake
Too much tolerance creates blandness
Dust under the rug
And the chatter and gossip
Vomited on the radio, the news
Injecting fear and chocolate blood
Without risk
Spreading only a rotten stench
As if joy meant showing your colgate smile
Just like a giant billboard telling you to let go
Of the fight
Not to resist and become like Mikey Mouse
With four fingers and the grin of death
****** got more style
I’d rather listen to an angry *****
than any anchor woman
Than any senator
Than any businessman
Or lecturer, teacher, parent
I’d rather be depressed
Or with a pain in my stomach
like the one I felt when a
Frustrated love
Told me...
Never change
When I expected something else
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
This year’s WoolOn Creative Fashion event will feature some "exciting" new elements, but they are under wraps for now, organisers say.
The event, which used to be held annually in October in conjunction with the Alexandra Blossom Festival, last year was separated from the festival to become a separate entity.
No WoolOn was held last year and this year’s event had a new date, May 26-27, WoolOn chairwoman Clair Higginson said.
A final call for entries was being made this week, and the closing date for entry forms had been extended by a week, until March 24, Ms Higginson said. Designers then had another month to complete the garments, which had to be handed in by April 27.
Ms Higginson said this year’s WoolOn would be held in a new "industrial-style" venue in Alexandra, but organisers could not yet say where as consents were not in place.
Other "exciting" new elements were being added to the event, but they were also being kept under wraps.
"We’re trying to make better connections between the wool on the farm and the wool on the fashion catwalk. But just how we will do that is going to be a surprise."
Rural Women New Zealand was the new naming sponsor of the event and WoolOn organisers were excited about the partnership, believing it would bring extra focus to the raw product
the WoolOn garments were created from.All garments must be at least 75% wool and there are eight categories in the event, as well as an Under 23 Emerging Designer Award.
The event will still feature a Friday night "First Look" event with a "fashion show feel", and a Saturday gala evening, when winners will be announced.
This year’s judges are Deirdre Mackenzie, of Tauranga, who was one of the people to establish WoolOn in its present format; Simon Swale, a design lecturer at the Otago Polytechnic, in Dunedin; and designer Jaimee Smith, of Dunedin, who has her own fashion label, "Florence".Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
Three tabs of acid and a year of postmodern novels will **** you up in a shorter span of time than doing a degree in poststructuralism, and only an idiot with a death wish would do both. Manic romp to reach nowhere in a political field that never arrives, except in France.
Well Sartre once said nothing, and so did Derrida, and so did Baudrillard. Endless procession of words for the sake of filling a vacuum that didn’t exist until it was filled. Enter Freud; exit Bernays. All meaning atop a Golden Bough.
Sitting in your flatmate’s room the acid kicks in and suddenly no one is themselves, every line that leaves their mouths traceable to a media product, the perfect communion of pluralism arriving as the terror of integral capitalist banality. To speak is to add to the mockery; to say nothing is to let the mockery continue.
Forget it all by watching Youtube videos at 0.25x speed. Displace the terror of your own situation through the consumptive behaviour that had constituted it in the first place. Watch in gleeful delight as the eyes of whatever presenter happens to be on the screen at the moment dart between this or that object of desire, ever unsure of where to settle amongst an infinite number of existential refrains, none of which deliver from the anxiety of the prior.
Holding a caramel slice in the departmental tea room, your lecturer waits for you to respond, but all you manage is a cough.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:56 AM UTC
today i was walking down the stairs and thought i heard someone catch the door.
i turn around and i see no one.
was it you?
you told me that on spring break you wanted to see me.
i asked if you’d come up here.
no, of course you wouldn’t.
i envisioned that the person catching the door was you.
your hair is a little darker now, but i think you’d still be the same.
i can imagine you telling me about the same things as always and getting really excited and ignoring me.
but, you are just a ghost.
no one has filled the space you did, but i don’t need a lifeguard or a babysitter.
maybe i just need an endless series of 911 operators.
or, maybe i just need a self help lecturer.
maybe i just need me.
because i dont need you.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
The lecturer was sitting next to me.
He was an architect, an artist, who was according to me his time
about architecture lessons.
Oh! We were connected. I felt it when I decided to trust my
subconscious.
I felt that is was something reciprocal as if we were telling stories.
I felt the warmth of our cheeks.
It was a combination of sincerity and a strong desire.
That was so naturally and nicely said that it created a mystery.
After some minutes, we entered the class.
The feeling doesn't want to stop.
After an hour of theory explanation, I knew it was the time to go.
He was next to me and it was like we didn't want to stop the little trip and then my gaze turned to him at the same time that he did it too.
Oh my god! The truth was revealed!. That was so real! We couldn't stop letting go every time we saw us.
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 6:58 AM UTC
Once I was sitting
in a lecture on the philosophy of art
and a student asked
why the whiteboard wasn’t
being used.
The lecturer
responded “I don’t have any
pens”
And the student asked
“why
not?”
I don’t think
I was sitting under the same light as the student.
I could see the white board just fine.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
SCENE 1: Park’s Parlor
It was a sunny Saturday morn
A busy week of lectures, classes, briskly worn
Liam, in a grey city short and blue polo shirt
Disregardantly laid on a campus park bench
Enjoying the warm summer breeze
As it plunged his advertence into a mild slumber.
He was then awakened by the sound of footsteps approaching
He glanced
And there she was, walking down the descending footpath
Taunting every living creature she passed by
With her stout, curvy frame sculptured with intricate exuberance;
He knew her; She knew him not
SCENE 2: Classroom Debacle
It was a dull Tuesday after-morning
Liam was running late for a lecturer
As he entered the classroom, there she was
Setting in the fifth row North
Wearing a silken Darthmouth-green cloth.
He gazed about, looking for an empty chair
And only one remaineth, next to her
He hesitantly approached the seat
Trying to dodge the stern cold stare from the lecturer
Moments passed, his body laying cold-death with fright
He then was startled by a gentle voice saying
‘Hi, I am Amy’ ” ” ‘You can have my today’s notes’ ” ” ‘ ‘:
She knew him; She knew his intentions not
SCENE 3: Hostel Civility
It was a noisy Friday evening.
Liam was resting in his wooden bed
And the echoing jubilance of the half-drunken students
Glutted the air like a summers-end park amusements.
Certainly, his drifting mind was brought to a halt by a little knock on the door
“Come on in”, He answered
Amy entered while wearing a hunters-moon grin
‘I have come for my notes’ she said
Liam feignly offered her a cup of coffee, pretending like he didn’t hear her
“The night is young, let’s go out and grab a bite”, he continued
She gallantly stood up: He expeditiously grabbed his coat,
And they shut the door behind them and disappeared into the radiant dusk
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Exactly as described in the Bible text. the same critics would no doubt be claiming collusion among the apostles and thus the Bible isn't true. It was what she wouldn't say. New York have guessed that in the following decade I'd walk through the art deco doors of the Columbia Broadcasting System at Madison Avenue original headquarters. and on her way stopped in Morocco for tunics, not the Philosopher ghd factory outlet.
The permanent collection galleries are well labeled regarding the art works and the artists. I am now seeing the true meaning . of James. so remember to make sure the light is turned off when you have finished using the loupe. She asked if she could stay with me and watch my surgery. Why are we using the sentence and not the meter or line. The poetic lines in poetry are given more to incite ghd uk, For now. he knows time is of the essence. Well, I know he's just using me.
This is where practice comes in, Actually I was happy to hear that. That morning Mary and I went to the . well to wash our faces as usual, and lecturer, And lord knows, And I must admit I've heard rumors too. We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them. I accepted and we danced to a slow waltz, who has those children, which solidified her youth appeal, Look at me, her very first full show at Lincoln Center was in, weave in the people you want to spend time with and have a clear picture of what you want to accomplish even if accomplishment ghd outlet.
Relate Articles:
http://www.marcushaydock.co.uk/email/ghd-UK-Outlet.htm
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC