"matriculate" poems
If distance were a metaphor,
its synonymous yet factual depiction would be itself.
Its shear complexity stretches over multitudes,
and from its belly flows rivers of emotions;
anger, frustration, regret sadness and not forgetting self realization.
Inadvertently it separates people and yet brings them closer.
Without doubt it's an enigma of life, call it Einsteins quantum theory of light.
Until one can comprehend the subliminal message deeply coded in the core of this phenomenon,
and without hesitance decipher its elaborate meaning,
one has no choice but to matriculate into it's class and take it's lesson.
Call it school of hard knocks 101.
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 5:03 PM UTC
Oh, duchess when you ascend your neck
To scrutinize the skyline
Were you aware that you could discover?
The very marvel that for years you so yearned?
Oh, duchess did you think it feasible
That you could matriculate the novelty ‘tis amour
Did you?
Open your eyes alluring one
Shan’t be a reason to averse your devoirs
though you must dismember all that bleeds
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
That Spring afternoon of my Upper-Middler year at Andover, I had just spoken with G. G. Benedict, the man who controlled, in effect, at which college you would matriculate. Columbia and Yale were at the top of my list. "Fine, fine, Tod. You've done very well here," he said. That evening, every student found a place to sit in George Washington Hall auditorium. Oppenheimer was to speak. I sat in the balcony, but I could see the man well. He looked as though he might have been around plutonium too long. Gaunt, pale, he began speaking. I cannot remember a single word he said that evening, but I will never forget the portentous feeling that came over me: DREAD (or should I say "dead"?) Over half a century after Oppenheimer's speech, humanity sits precariously on the cusp of extinction. A hydrogen bomb is 1,000 times more powerful than the atomic bombs we dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and there are thousand of hydrogen bombs we know about on Earth presently, not just the two atomic bombs Oppenheimer had. If only one hydrogen bomb accidentally explodes, scientists say that explosion will be enough to cause "Nuclear Winter." The sky around Earth will grow so dark that sunlight will not be able to penetrate it; thus, nothing will be able to grow and we will all starve to death. Every living creation on Earth will die. I think Oppenheimer, as smart as he was, knew, at least subconsciously, he had lit the fuse to inevitable annihilation of all living things.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 4:03 AM UTC
*masks of beauty
shooting at the moon
sweeping arrows
saddle the tunes
i cruise for nests of honey
set in diamond casings
situated among the flowers of yesterday’s
paparazzi
sages sneer at pimpled teenagers
future primal actors in the dreamtime
see me in this humidity
drier than a cactus
standing out like prickly pear flowers
and nopale sandwiches
made from green shoots and stems
our splendid appendages brought forth
oh the void
in mayhem’s embrace we chase the testament that
makes no mistakes
and never defiles them
grace is a carpet
a sheep skin in the winter
seminars of laughter barren like your refrigerator
sheet rock stallions
stand firm against the oppressive shields of bureaucracy
i see candle light dinners waiting for the masses
to matriculate from kindergarten*
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
Doing my utmost to keep my word
is how I live as taught by my father
although he didn't always keep his
I make a concerted effort to be better
Now that I have a son, it is absolutely
essential 2 have his trust 4 my benefit
Never make PROMISES which cannot
be kept according to mother and as we
know... mom is always always correct
At the mercy of all who dictate my
inner circle, my blessings emanate from
from on high to shape my pathway
Oh PROMISES PROMISES, do I dare
break you, for the repercussions may
have lasting consequences on everyone
so I matriculate to refine my stance on
keeping PROMISES and all it entails.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 4:37 AM UTC
My words form a humble abode
only if the words would form when prose
words crave to expand when exposed
I never grant them the ability to unload
They complex to lyrical nonsense
Ravage my identity towards confidence
knows nothing about prudence
they insist upon clairvoyance
Words manipulate to suffice
although I contort them to be precise
they matriculate to my vice
We both only want to be concise
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
I'm the reclusive wreck-loose
Who's about to let loose
And instigate and substantiate the fact that society's narrow mindedness is there for us to instantiate that we ourselves have to promote understanding and antiquate hate
Accidents happened and mistakes were made
They take a sardonic look at the schematics of a systematic syncopated symmetry
They say we dare not deviate from the Fibonacci Sequence
But to matriculate
And be quick on the uptake
Then add ourselves to the division of labour
I make empirical claims to disarm ephemeral things
Fashion
Technology
Music
Life as a whole
But then I'm the *******
They salt the songbird's tail
Clipping the properties of personality
"Bide your time so you don't do anything foolish and bite your tongue so you don't say anything you may regret"
But this is this part of the cocoon effect
Waiting to see all the failed racists
After this metaphysical metamorphosis
So modern
So contemporary
It's classic
Soon to be ancient
The adages and aesthetic aphrodisiacs
'Who do you want to be when you grow up?"
"What do you want to be when you grow up"
"I want to be civilization as you know it..or as you like it"
Peradam- Something that shows itself to those who truly seek it.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
Directions?
October 1, 2012
My life as an unfinished portrait.
I trace lines through the veins of my brain.
Place down these paper thoughts.
Distinguish between what I teach myself and have been taught.
Let me get this straight.
I can only be one person?
Get a single choice of the careers I'm searching.
Only to make it under the burden of weight.
Each step closer, closer, is saying no to no longer options
I feel this is a mean means to an end.
Need to follow the signs, but of which signals I send?
Leaves me tying corners together, assimilating assumptions.
Put on a pair of glasses to spectate.
I sit in the hot seat until I matriculate.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 7:18 PM UTC
Did you say that I've got a lot to learn
Well don't think I'm trying not to learn
Since this is the perfect spot to learn
Teach me tonight
Starting with the ABC of it
Getting right down to the XYZ of it
Help me solve the mystery of it
Teach me tonight
The sky's a blackboard high above you
And if a shooting star goes by
I'll use that star to write "I love you"
A thousand times across the sky
One thing isn't very clear my love
Teachers shouldn't stand so near my love
Graduation's almost here my love
You'd better teach me tonight
I've played loves scenes in a flick or two
And I've also met a chick or two
But I still can learn a trick or two
Hey teach me tonight
I who thought I knew the score of it
Kind of think I should know much more of it
Off the wall, the bed, the floor of it
Hey teach me tonight
The midnight hours come slowly creeping
When there's no one there but you
There must be more to life than sleeping
Single in a bed for two
What I need most is post graduate
What I feel is hard to articulate
If you want me to matriculate
You'd better teach me tonight
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
How to be the suit and tie of your colours.
To rhyme the truth that my tongue covers.
How to walk the shoes that crush my dark molars.
To matriculate at your heart for honors.
Teach me, woman.
How to be a man, many a man can't be.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 5:43 AM UTC
The following is not a paid advertisement. It is the truth. It is arguably plausible for me to state that I received the best secondary and higher education in the world.
I graduated from Phillips Academy (more commonly referred to as Andover now), the oldest boarding school in America founded in 1778, two years after our nation was founded. Andover and its sequel, Exeter, it seems, now take turns being voted the best high school in the United States.
Though I received an essentially unequalled secondary education at Andover, I paid an exorbitant social and emotional cost to receive it. The years I spent at Andover were the worst of my life.
I chose to matriculate to Columbia College, the tradional undergraduate liberal arts school of Columbia University, over Yale
for principally two main reasons: the Core Curriculum and New York City. More years at Yale would be like returning to Andover, anathema to me.
The Core Curriculum, now over 100 years old, is a rigorous, two-year course of studies that include philosophy, literature. art, music, language, frontiers of science, and writing. All College students, regardless of her or his majors, must take all the Core courses, which, in turn, make them learned for life. Columbia College is the only Ivy school to have anything like the Core. Living in and exploring New York City, the veritable capital of the world, for four years makes one a Citizen of the World for life, even if one decides to reside elsewhere after graduating, as I did. I now live in Boulder, CO. Columbia College's 2019 admit rate was 5.1%. Columbia College admitted a few over 2,000 applicants out of slightly over 42,000 applicants worldwide, making Columbia College the second most selective school in the Ivy League. 5.1 % admit rate: that's about 1 out of 20.
But even Columbia has its "bad apples:" Roy Cohn comes to mind readily. So does William Barr. But it also has Barach Obama. 84 students who studied or professors who taught there won the Nobel Prize.
So what to do with this piece CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT?
It sees to me that the maxim DO UNTO OTHERS...is rapidly being supplanted by CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? Our political leaders, who have never been paragons of virtue, have for 3 1/2 years have become, in a word, corrupt. The Washington Post has authenticated more than 15,000 lies emanating from the Oval Office, not to mention the cheating, the racism, and the ******
CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? is the new adage these days.
I say "Make America A Democracy Again!" should be.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 12:19 AM UTC