"tuition" poems
“Study everything, join nothing”
- The Maverick Philosopher
Hindi naman masamang siyasatin ang mga bagay-bagay na may kinalaman sa ating buhay-buhay. Ayos lang na basahin ang lahat ng aklat na gusto **** basahin basta’t makakatulong ito para makamtan mo ang iyong mga hangarin. Ayos lang na sumabay sa hangin o kaya naman ay tumakbo sa buhangin siguraduhin mo lang na hindi ka mahuhulog sa bangin.
Minsan ka lang mabubuhay at hindi na muling babalik ang kabataan, karapatan mo na pag-aralan ang lahat ng gusto **** mapag-aralan. Hindi mo kailangan na pumasok sa paaralan at magbayad ng pagkamahal-mahal na tuition fee, hindi mo kailangan maki-tropa sa mga bolakbol o kaya naman ay makipag-plastikan sa mga pantas na kung tawagin ay propesor.
Magbasa ka at huwag umasa, hawak mo ang iyong buhay kaya’t hindi mo ito dapat na iasa. Kumasa ka kung kinakailangan upang hindi maging alipin ng sinoman. ‘Hwag **** antayin na turuan ka ng iba, turuan mo ang iyong sarili. Ok lang na maging makasarili basta’t kaya **** dalhin ang iyong sarili. Kumbaga wala naman masama na magsarili gamit ang iyong daliri.
Basta ito lang ang payo ko: ‘wag **** sayangin ang ngayon. Wala sa organisasyon ang tunay na pundasyon. Ang karunungan ay hindi isang donasyon, pinaghihirapan ito tsong. At wag **** sabihin na masyado ka pang bata o di kaya naman ay matanda na’t huli na ang lahat. Walang malambot at walang makunat sa coconut na handang matuto.
Panghuli gusto ko tandaan mo ito. Ang buhay ay hindi isang magandang panaginip hindi rin ito isang masamang bangungot. Ang buhay ay buhay, ganon lang kasimple, ‘wag **** gawing kumplikado. Kung may gusto ka gawin mo, kung ayaw mo naman edi ‘wag. Ika nga walang sapilitan kasi wala ka naman kapalitan ang importante ay matuto ka saiyong bawat ngayon.
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 8:14 PM UTC
Im a poet and a painter
And a meandering musician
And I've hopes that somehow my
Art'll pay for my tuition.
I know it's not about the facts
Or my intuition
I wont believe all that I'm shown
For I know its superstition.
And you know Im not a doctor
Or even a practition
But heres some medicine myself perscribed
To help with this condition.
The dizzyness and neasuea
And the most dishonest vision..
May this writing reach my soul
In its keen perscision
And help me make every right move
Help make the right decision.
When there's so many unfathomable things we are
I choke on that recognition.
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 4:37 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
It is the 30th day of the months in Kenya
State and corporate capitalist have now paid their workers
Wages or salaries or stipends or emoluments all being remunerations
While the rural bourgeoisie and urban bourgeoisie have also paid ex-gratia
To relatives come over-aged workers who have declined retiring
For the fear of looming starvation if at all they go home, where they were born,
Nonetheless; proceed they receive will do nothing whatsoever
As it will be stifled by the monster of desperate consumerism;
So fat and gullible in this tiger of land in the region called Kenya;
The terror peddling rent, courtesy of ruthlessness of the landlord
Bills of electric power in their full monopolistic gear
Bills of water devoid of quality, indifferent dysentery monger
Wages for maid who keep on usurping the food of my child; milk
Bills for gas, all of it redolent of comprador bourgeoisie in fashion,
Hotel and bar bill - a surreptious one, as the bar girl only knows
Airtime and renewal, TV channels and other screen capitalistic ploys
Family trip to local resort in a feat of foolish consumerist venture,
Money to the old mother at home and, sometimes depraved but patient father
ARV’s money to my *** aids stricken sister at the village, my aunt also
Tuition fees for my son at the kindergarten, who goes to schools but learns nothing
fees balance which my wife has to pay at the tailor to ransom out her dress,
M-Pesa and M-Swari loan repayment, this only for Kenyan 30th dayers
They know the agony of dealing with Kenyan mega-capitalist safaricom ltd.
This consumerism and **** consumerism,
It is the menacing bane of the Kenyan poor
It is the avaricious tube which siphons back
The hard earned money from pockets of the poor
Back to despotic account of the pitiless world pigshotry.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
I remember...
I was sad because I could only afford four textbooks out of five
Until the best student dropped out of school due to lack of tuition
I was upset because I wasn't served dessert
Until I saw a starving man
I complained my car was manual transmission
Until I saw a guy wishing for a used bicycle
I always wished for a bigger bed
Until I saw a man sleeping on the street
I was demotivated because my job wasn't paying well
Until I saw unemployment rate in other countries
I was ****** with myself when I dislocated my ankle
Until I saw someone without legs
It's definitely good to admire better things but
Appreciate what you have
Because somebody wants just that!
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
Songster, not as sinister as they say,
she's no monster, just admittedly
a bit lost in her way.
she caves as I'm walking
down the hall.
I pick her up, off of that flooring,
the rubbery kind, whatever it is,
I guess it's rubber, but the kind that
squeaks when you walk on it after
coming in from the rain; to hell with poetry.
And so anyways I pick her up
and sit her on this bench next to me
and give her about five minutes to come to
terms with breathing and pick shimmering
auburn hair out of the tears smeared across her face,
two, mesmerizing, perfectly blue wells
the source of the streams.
And then I ask her what that
was all about and she blurts out that she
belongs in the Fine Arts Department,
and her car broke down months ago
but her father
doesn't give a **** about it,
because she can't lay up the basketball
or steal the base and so he honorably
lump summed her entire tuition
and sent her to another state
and how ****** she would be
if she had to get a job for the first
time at the age of twenty three
so she wouldn't have to be
dependent on her family and
that she was sick of wondering why
not a single guy had ever given her
a ******* flower
and that if she ever did end up liking one
two weeks later she would find out that he
was exactly the same as the others and
she had a broken look in her eyes
when she said she wondered why we were
all here in the first place, and how we were
made this way, and if people were actually
ever meant to fit together or not;
*what if there was nothing as certain
as two halves making a whole?*
She wanted to know how everyone's
mind had a different game to play,
she wanted to know why Jupiter
had to be so far away and everything in
between.
We had strolled off of the school grounds by
this time but I still looked twice before pulling out my flask.
I unscrewed the cap, handed it to her and said
*follow me to Deadbeat Hollow,
where we've already thrown
our problems out of the window*
and she said
lets go.
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
I signed up for the race you see. I was drafted to run.
They chose to pay my tuition so I could sprint at the gun.
But here's the problem that plagued me from the start.
I seemed to have left my confidence at an entirely different mark.
I showed up at the race and I didn't think I would win.
Even the sun shining down on the game looked a little grim.
What happens when your falling without any aid?
When there's no life support and you don't think you'll be saved?
What happens when you've signed on for too much?
When you can't be the athlete you want to be and you've got a limp with no crutch?
I had to figure it all out, a dark field and no map.
I had to find my confidence before I could score on attack.
I faced the coaches and dealt with their disappointed faces.
I had to move past the fact, that I had racked up some disgraces.
I cried in the showers when nobody could hear.
Letting anybody know I was weak was my biggest fear.
Because it doesn't count you see, if the shower's on.
There's already water running down and my tears always joined the marathon.
But I surpassed the doubt. I learned to dig deep.
I became that brave player on the field.
And I only cry in my sleep.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Reaching a goal, victory in sight.
To be up on that stage, oh what a delight.
Years of hard work coming to fruition.
Now it's time to start paying back tuition.
True character formed, wisdom and knowledge.
Let me tell you what I learned in college.
Forget the status quo, this is all about you
Get up off your couch and create something new.
Success takes hard work, that's not news.
Remember that when you hit the snooze.
So step up your game, get right to action.
Put in the work to find satisfaction.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
I wait for you to come closer,
To draw closer and tell me
That you can't deal with me
Any more. Not with my
Insane, bordering on
Psychotic, behavior, and
My bipolar mood swings.
But, you draw closer
And you smile right at me,
And draw me into a hug
For a second, that little voice,
Which I am always aware of,
Which tells me I'm never
Going to be good enough
For anyone to accept or like,
Let alone love,
Fades to the back of my mind.
I let myself relax
Into your warm embrace and
I let myself be and believe.
I turn to smile at you...
Before I can see your face,
Your features, I am woken up
From my daydream
By the bell signalling the
End of school. I pack my bag
And head towards my carpool,
My movements sluggish-
Even cheerily wave goodbye to
A few stragglers.
I reach home and eat lunch alone.
I go for tuition, let myself
Become numb to everything
But learning and understanding.
It becomes darker and it's almost 8,
I come back home again.
I had been out from 7 in the morning.
This time, my family's there and
We eat dinner together, though,
I am barely there with them.
They're discussing important
Things like business and will
Talk to me later. I finish eating
And go sleep. Tomorrow's going to
Be the exact robotic same.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC
On campus
the morning rain is subsiding
while the cool air is still flowing
a live band starts to play
in front of the library
beneath some trees
sweet and beautiful melodies
to promote a ‘happy relax’ theme
while my fingers tap to the beat
a familiar face
appears and sits
between the band
and my seat
indeed a pleasant surprise
but I should leave soon
a revision class is starting
should I stay or should I leave?
ah what a rare chance it is
to find the heart
where it wants to be,
I should stay
yet the tuition class
is where I ought to be
I should go
torn in between
I look up
to the streaks of light
slipping through
the wet foliage,
it then occurred to me
don’t think too hard
just enjoy the stay…
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 9:45 PM UTC
Their lies are prompted
from teleprompters
and executed flaw-fully
from taxpayer's helicopters.
They say we're protecting
foreign daughters
while filtering profits
to desert clad marauders.
Blank faced public
fear conversing religion and politics
while passively electing
lunatics with trigger switches.
Arm the rebels
they bite the hand that feeds
the middle east burns
while America ******* bleeds.
The white, blue and red
camo helmets on their heads
farm fed frat boys
equipped with jackets of lead.
We watched Saddam crumble
his statue beaten with shoes
but the same war we already fought
the puppets now will choose.
Fight the good fight
support the troops.
Drone strikes by twilight
**** the troops.
An Army of one
Sempter Fi
Do or Die
I won't shed a single tear when you come back in a casket
covered in a flag you valued more than your life.
Our heroes are our welfare
stop blaming single mothers
plastic bags tied around throats
water boarding dissent, it smothers.
**** the Medal of Honor
I'm tearing up your portrait Obama.
How many can benefit from free tuition?
But we give it to those trained to slaughter.
Our priority is the police state
Nazis pretending to tote freedom.
We sip our Americanos
And retain nothing from the newspaper we are reading.
**By Evan Ponter
@evanponter**
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
It’s really a feeble attempt to make something between one and five work in our daily lives. They have gone from an intriguing idea and amount of worth to a silly little gift grandparents hand out freely on Valentine’s Day along with a card worth more than the contents. They've never set foot in any wallet of mine; they simply always made their way back behind my socks. The valuable of least worth I owned was never spent strictly based on rarity. These days you are a mistake just like all the other rarer coins like that three-legged buffalo nickel only I could maybe pay a bit of college tuition with one of those. You can bring in about four Lira though; enough to get a big bowl of any kind of noodles and sauce they have down at that restaurant in Istanbul near the Grand Bazaar. That night I stopped a little closer to my hotel and spent my last four on a beer with my meal. We kept walking and saw that young boy shivering as always against the cold vents that produced less heat than my freezer back home. No change jingled in my pockets because I had eaten my fill. A thousand suns heated my back without that jacket but the warmth was bitter like stolen Turkish Delights. I couldn't tell if he was going to drape that jacket around his tiny body or have it stolen by one of the bigger kids. We still spoke though. I know that was the day I discovered the language of the universe.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
I have met Masters and OGs
within joint commissions.
While my dear, Granddaddy Purple’s
spending my tuition.
But, it was merely a Blue Dream
at blunt ceremonies.
While Hindus and Afghans breed in
holy matrimonies.
Look at all of Mary Jane's strains,
I want to be like them;
stuck pondering my bud's embrace
and all’the broken stems.
Reuniting the Skywalker's
was quite like the Death Star
far out, in space and burns fast like
Sour Diesel’s quick car.
I rode the Pineapple Express,
then I hit the Train Wreck.
Lights out! The conductor demands
that we have our pipes checked.
Look at all of Mary Jane's strains,
I have plenty of them,
still pondering my bud's embrace
and all’the broken stems.
My bud's came less often and I
became less credible.
I told my bud Bubba that we
should switch to edibles.
“But, you can't eat these sweets unless
the treat's gradual high
stops your bud’s from disappearing.
You need me to get by!”
Where are all of Mary Jane's strains?
I need some more like them;
losing the embrace of my bud’s
and all’the broken stems.
All my buds have vacated me.
All that's left is Reggie
and Mid, who aren't like my kind buds;
they’re leaving me edgy.
I’m hanging with Mid and Reggie
hoping they'll come around
But now, even they’re gone, and I
have lost what was once found.
The strains of Mary Jane are gone.
I can't live without them!
I dream to see my bud's once more
and all’the broken stems.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
We went out back
After the meeting
when we knew we had nothing
and had a long way to go and were now
much happier
To the little barn
Stuffed with donations
from magical beings with money
who bought things from stores and used them
and then left them silently
in crackling plastic bags
We had listened and found
all the he's were the same
We were not alone and strange as he had said
Those he's always said that
we had nothing that he had taken and we were not ashamed
Digging deeper into the bins
hoping for treasure
Lingerie with lace
Sparkling silly bling
Shoes for work
I still have the purple lamp
you picked out for me
Your check for tuition
bounced as we shopped
and we thought it was funny
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
An airplane crashes into an uncharted island and hundreds of people die in the burning debris, and somewhere a group of boys and girls are taking selfies as they stand next to a burning office building.
Thousands of teenagers sit on the couch and eat ice cream until the buttons on their pants explode off.
Kids light themselves on fires as if they were monks from the Tiananmen Square, trying to gain acceptance, their dreams of stardom translated through a series of YouTube comments.
We can't afford books for college because the tuition is ridiculous, but these glossy tabloid magazines are only a few bucks; pick one to set the course of your life.
Middle-aged people spend their lives indoors, away from the thirsty, hungry, withering children, and check how many likes did their photos receive on their smartphones.
Pornographic images in front of our tired faces, our eyes locked to the screen and we do not blink as our memories become embedded with objectification.
So we don't look up and see the chaos transpiring.
Cat memes and colorful gifs hold our attention while our parents slave away at their boomerang-shaped desks, trapped in clustered cubicles.
I saw a post on Facebook of a girl who was sexually assaulted at a house party and now her name was being hashtagged and kids were posing in photographs, laying on the floor, legs and arms sprawled out, left and right, trying to mimic the injustice.
We swipe right to find our future hookups, but what if our future husbands and wives were on the left?
Society spends millions of dollars on drinks to numb our conscience, until our brain cells are wretched like the homeless guy on the street corner drinking liquor from a coffee mug.
Israel and Palestine battle each other day after day while our generation gossips about Solange Knowles beating up Jay-Z with her patent leather purse as if that news conquers every other bit of information out there.
The world will always be corrupt, but it suffers more from the apathy that belongs to us.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
two days into it,
already tip-toeing across creaking floors
and keeping eyes down to avoid confrontations.
all mom does is cry, argue, complain,
and i'm here to clean up the mess,
to agree with her, to make it all better.
two days into it,
already missing my support system
and my best friends to make me laugh.
i work out, but mom questions my reasoning.
i eat a snack, but mom questions calories.
i watch a show, but mom questions my scheduling abilities.
i do something as simple as lay down,
and mom questions my productivity.
i am seen as a drain on this family because
i am working on fixing myself.
questions upon questions that i have no answer to:
when am i going to work,
when is my group counseling,
when do i have volleyball,
how will i pay tuition,
how will i pay rent,
why am i changing my major,
how do i feel about people i haven't even
talked to in months,
am i going to mail him the necklace
i thought was lost,
am i depressed am i suicidal am i cutting.
mom i just don't have answers for you.
and i think it's about time you stopped asking.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
Ambitious Girl:
Consider this my reiteration.
I wanna read your books, and not just your looks.
Knowing what you look like ; I wanna be in your space - but not so much that I interfere with your education.
Let me say this,
Congratulations on being the very best you could ever be.
Putting priorities over everything, Miss couldn't get that coach cause tuition was due.
& sallie was nagging for a payback.
Sallie was nagging for a payback.
And you paid that, plus tax.
Miss made so many friends stepping with the sisters.
whatever it is, I hope you pledge an existence that'll make your existence, persistent.
Forever my queen, say you're listening...
Look, I'm still talking .
You love school but you're sick of Sally maybes .
No *** , you're the lucky one because all your friends have babies.
And you ain't slept , up thinking , tomorrow's that big test .
Few of your friends stripping you don't judge em' though.
You're insecure with your body so you like "forget it yo!"
So, I put you on that pedestal,
Girl I'm just saying your work ethic makes you edible.
Me a freak? That's something that they will never know.
Look, you're something they can never see;
You overpower anything them other girls could ever be.
Go ahead and prepare for class, hit me when you finish up.
It's never too late, we'll celebrate soon as the grades come.
Shout to them girls in the club with no relations between their professors .
Yes sir, I propose a toast to them girls - that you offer them ones but they never let you.
I love your ambition.
Okay, shout out to them 4.0s and even 2.5s ; who signed up & failed but say "whatever , I tried."
It's nothing to deny for having a strong mind, I'll make sure to keep you in mind.
You're still someone I can ride with; dress up & get fly with.
It's still something you provide , you never hide , that makes me wanna get inside .
Look, ambition will define you, never worry about them hating chicks that wish to be just like you.
My goal is to serenade you everyday with these verses until you no longer insecure, obscure and hurting .
They gon know you;
Chasing your dreams, instead of chasing what's in a dudes' jeans.
And God blessed me with a lot of patience , but I ain't had none in a while - I need your AS(S)pirations .
I love your aspirations!
Ambitious Girl...
Fourth generation.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
The *** with match, lit the fire
scolding kettle with burnt goaless ambition.
claiming snobbish golden prowess
paid in wanton , savage, screaming tuition.
"It is I" said ***
"Who has sent aromas of worlds
preperations in lifes gluttonous lust
smiling rewards genorously hailed
with slothed culanary trust..."
"tis true" whispered kettle
"It is I, the ***
forged in iron clad
who in laborious toil
so generously cast my sweet savory scraps
amongst your soot and soil..."
"tis true" hissed kettle,
"For I, the ***
adapt in multiple arrangement
of compliment and comfort where you lack
with singular solitary function
wailing, seared and scarred in black..."
"Tis true" whistled kettle
"I, the ***
filled in glorious substance and magnificant sustenance
praised in lifes delicate, vital, victuals and viands
in with which I do enhance..."
"Tis true" howled kettle
"Yet it is I, Kettle,
in further fashion of design
than copious function in fare
do not heed your song and dance..."
"Blah" clammered ***
"For it is I, the lowly kettle,
sing to each melodious morning
to begin the days
unknown magical soaring..."
"Pishaw" growled ***
"It is I, kettle,
bestowed in somber, modest truth of fact
nakedly express that
you too, my dear ***
are simply black..."
"humbug" steamed ***
*** humbled... kettle mumbled...
"It is in each honorable day
we serve our distinguishable stay
in detectable unadorned identicle way.
"Tis true" said ***
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 3:27 AM UTC
Delia
once seduced
the house maid
in half term
home from school
some posh place
where she had
with success
oft bedded
the new young
maths teacher
whose glasses
thin wired
she took off
before ***
in her room
for extra
tuition
(her father
from his fat
wallet paid
for extra
maths not ***
then after
leaving school
and the young
maths teacher
(sad female)
and having
bedded her
young cousin's
French nanny
she went to
some college
to study
the cello
and music
she had ***
the first day
with the thin
trumpeter
on the floor
above her
a girl with
luscious lips
and dark eyes
who after
a good ****
could play like
Miles Davis
so cool that
Delia
would play her
cello ****
like lovers
embracing
she and her
instrument
then have ***
to the sound
of Coltrane's
saxophone
and the girls'
******
wanting more
sighs and moans.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
sometimes the noise got too much; i’d hear everything: the people in and out of the washroom, the kitchen fan downstairs, my brother and his friends yelling outside. i’d turn my music up, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind. when i left, the relief was almost more profound than i could handle.
it can’t be static
i’ll return; the leaves will fall
clocks can turn back time
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 2:21 PM UTC
When I arch my back
so my face hovers close
Above the college ruled paper,
I narrow my shoulders
until the green fleece of my jacket
kisses at my red ears.
I move my body weight
to my left side, shifting
and wrapping my right foot
around the cold metal desk leg,
the hiss of the fluorescent
lights above licking a steady whisper.
I hear pens scratching permanent
ink onto dry paper and noses dripping
snot onto cheap Kleenex squares,
a melodic metronome racing
against the preset clock in my mind
I’ve ignored over the past four years.
Will it be worth it?
Thomas sits on my red ears
and whispers, reminding
that I have but one more semester.
Am I Dotstoyevsky?
Can I claim to be Milton?
Am I worth?
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 10:29 PM UTC
Sine waves, perpetual motion
Centripetal force, density of the ocean
Associates, Bachelors
Student Ambassadors
Register, register, schedules, grades
Grants and scholarships, tuition is paid
No snooze button, turn off the alarm
Losing some sleep. It's ok, though, no harm
Friendly teachers and **** instructors
Digital logic and semiconductors
Homework, classwork, essays, papers
Last minute class of procrastinators
Get up, get blazed. 'Fore school, 'nutha blunt
High while accepting student of the month
Higher than you, and my grades, too, are higher
How smart would I be if I put out the fire?
Gen. Ed., English, Mathematics, Psychology
Now on to the good stuff, much richer chronology
Top of my class, highest grade in the program
In just a few years, I'll have money in BOTH hands
This hand-to-mouth **** ain't for me
I'm tired of living week-to-week
Broke, tired, and hungry day after day
But when payday comes, it'll be here to stay
You don't have to do as I do
But my feet are too small to fill these big shoes
If you think I can't fill them, then surely you're trippin'
But do whatcha do, cause my burgers need flippin'
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:51 PM UTC
I was in the car with the mama of the girl I babysit,
her brown deep eyes like whittled wood flicked over mine,
and she asked me what I had learned at school today.
I don’t know, but I think it’s this spring fever
that seems to have burned a hole through my head
letting my brain bounce up into the blue abode
but the blame is not solely on the season
Everything I learn that keeps me living,
lives in the trains of thought,
thought by others.
The mothers I meet with the babies who greet the failure
at the first knock on their wobbly knees
compel me to contemplate further,
because with each waking breath
they are reminded that to live, you learn.
So I tell this fragile woman that today my teachers taught,
but the thought of their subjects
subjects negative connotations,
I want real lessons without plans to hand you wisdom, courage, and consideration
I get to learning in the jaw clinching, artery pinching, eyebrow flinching
awe of the way that woman can sing.
I’ve learned the color of my best friends teeth
because some days she smiles.
Learning to heal is hard enough, but to deal with a scab left raw
is something I will always need improvement on.
With, or without school I’m going to learn.
I’m going to learn cold beverage condensation rings,
percolating dreams,
my little sisters shy smiled wings
and societies racist, sexist, sizeist, ageist, ableist, tightly sewn seams.
Im rattling off my bare brisk list of ambitions,
of pleading for a voluminous scholarshipped tuition,
as I sit next to this woman waiting for a robust reply
I’m learning, that the whittled wood gap in her eyes
are round with sticky sap.
She will teach her daughter academically, never letting her size our common ground;
The skies.
I want her baby to experience,
and as if on cue,
her yawn brings in the tides of the oceans in her eyes,
something she’s learning to cope with,
she’s grasping my soft word’s
“This too, shall pass,
make sure you look to learn with your eyes not your brain,
dear baby girl, choose water over wood,
and when your mama tells you to pack that school bag,
make sure its zipper barely closes over
tightly stuffed open mindedness, and a few colored pencils.”
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
this is for the graduation classes
homework again?
will this drudgery ever end?
what do they expect from someone like me
when i don't even know my a, b, c, s.
teachers tell me that i will fail.
and that they see me going to jail.
that i have no ambition.
i can't afford college tuition!
but i know that i must learn
otherwise my life will forever turn.
in this life there is no other way
so i must listen to what they say.
i must take away this negativity
just so that the teachers can see
that there is some hope for me.
everyone says that my future is in my hands
if i learn to take a stand.
so my nose i did put to the books
and paying attention is all it took.
my grades have started to soar so high
that my head i can put to the sky.
now i can finally see, that the
education is the best thing for me.
homework is still a drudgery!
and i may still complain
but my life will never be the same.
THANK YOU TEACHERS FOR KEEPING ME SANE.
louis rams :
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
I got to where I am today
Without the aide of
Book-smarts
And being a nerd.
I beat up nerds,
Steal their girlfriends
And drive them to
My parent's summer house
In the Hamptons!
No, I don't need
Book-smarts
To graduate from
Harvard.
My tuition was prepaid
And business comes as natural to me
As does stealing your girlfriend!
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 4:58 PM UTC
Sophisticated creations created in sophistication
Humbly stumble your rocket ship upon us
Show us the ways of wisdom
The gears to greatness
Greetings from above…
Indescribably intuitive taking part of our tuition
Relaxing everybody with your percentages
Because everybody loves your mathematical mysteries mingling with minds mistaking us monitoring the minutes of our total misguidance
You guide us through that too…
Tactically tyrannical, democratically demonizing our demands
Demanding our demons
Because without the demons dictating our lusts as districts for us to be in
You are but a simple voice
Maybe so inhumanly loud and annoying
But incompetent
Powerless…that freaks you out…
Notorious nuzzles nurturing our children
Not so new of an idea
Because were used to getting
Tips of our rights smuggled through the windows you chose to open
Then smile and wave from up there
Because being like us is too mainstream
Becoming like us is an impossibility possible only when you become wood
Stiff wood
Moving around on shoulders
Standing in line on
The borders
Of dirt and human form
Following your followers with flowers on top of you facilitating your families fascinations that yes, youre gonna be alright down under
Flashback to the fudemental moments of your life
And you’ll realize
It’s when you killed the father
Suffocated the mother
Ripped the brother apart
And told the son…hey let me help you
But this is when you die…
If we all **** you in our minds youre dead
And only then…would “up there” be nothing but a shameful figure
Rather than a worshiped emblem of total **********
And only then…would we gain life…
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC