3 Class Room Poems

1
Poem written during English Class


None can comprehend what speaks this man.
Old and crumbling he and so his voice.
Glasses magnify his insect eyes.
Who will dare predict the day he dies?
Such a day would surely bring us peace.
Classes off! A sense of sweet release.
Chaucer in his grave will then be pleased.

Tiger-like, he’s quick to shed his age to
Blast upon a girl who did not know to
Fake the fact: she really did not know!
Did he just now grab a nippley boy?!
Turn him into his voluptuous toy?!
Act like imbeciles in front of us,
Men of age, do tend to lose their sense…


2
Poem written during Psychology Class

If I could fade away and not be seen
And go to sleep right here upon this bench,
That marks the farthest point where I can be,
As far away from her obnoxious face
As possible, while still attending class,
(Attendance is compulsory for me)
I would be glad and thank my Lord for it.
I rather wish that I could be asleep...
This class is truly equivalent to shit.
But such is life; I try to deal with it.
I can only barely hear her voice.
Thank God the fans are making so much noise.
These girls all look like Satan’s syphilis!
Devoid of boys, this class is quite the piss.

3
Another poem written In the class room.
I've yet to write a stupider last line.

Dull as a door knob, drooping eyes and all,
I let her gibberish wash all o’er my face.
I am a rock in the path of a crashing wave…
Apparently unchanged but slowly eroding.

How could her lectures be so damn boring?
The mind succumbs to her dreary onslaught
If I could leave right now, never to return
I don’ think t’would affect my ‘bility t' learn.

The Bus Ride (Public Transport To School)

Started writing in the bus stop. Completed in school.


So many idiots strive to squeeze themselves
Inside a bus that seems to overflow
I think I’ll just sit back and try to relax;
If she's not going places, no one is.
But then I jump the bench and run like hell
When Punctuality beckons wild students…
I have no choice, I grab and shove and push
And pull myself inside. I’m on my way!
If you would think we fought because there was
A chance that we had cash with which to pay
You would be wrong. The route is long, a fight
We’ll win for sure; our Will is kind of strong.
We fight to get us on the bus, we fight
To get us off and we don’t pay for tickets
"Conductor man, make do with what you can!"
His pungent breath then overtook my brain,
It left me dazed. Elitist?! I am not!
A stranger’s ass is pressed against my crotch!
I don’t feel much, I guess I’m not that gay.
Perhaps if he was fair, I might consider…
Unlikely as that is, I would not bet!
For me it all depends upon the weather.
A bus is not the best romantic spot,
Nor a myriad awful smells a mood setter.
Why did I think of sex at all? I ask.
Of all places, a bus would be the last!
I've had too much of fish since yesterday…
Remember to be careful from today.


2
This is another one of the half-assed variety.


You see you don’t win fights with me, my love,
Because I’m well equipped. For I was raised
With five more kids, therefore, I don’t give in.
I know you don’t enjoy this madness much:
A constant one-side war that I can't lose.
It’s really not that bad for you because
I honestly believe I'm good for you.
You're irresistible and soft as cream
I would not hurt you even in a dream
I fear that you would leave: Too great a cost!
And I am slain anew with every blink
And thoughts of losing you then make me sink
My ship in dodgy seas, by storms is tossed.
So let me win, because, you see, I’ve lost.

Nietzsche's Misprints and other half-assed poems

 2 The Sperm: I kid you not...this is actually good. My house is a condom: used and fit to burst With half-baked, fragile, forces of life, Seeking completion and fulfillment Of goals and hopes, desires, ambitions of odd Success. Hopefully these walls aren't strong as thought.

More Rejected Experimentals

Be warned all those who dare to versify and then have the audacity to think that it might not be a bad idea to learn what it is that they're doing. Not knowing is oft (?) better than knowing. Otherwise you'll start saying "oft" in the middle of seemingly normal sentences...wtf is going on? I don't know. Thus was born my dish of crap.

1
Dactyl Trimeter ending in a half Trochee (?) stanza followed by a stanza in Anapaest Tetrameter with a weak or feminine ending...which is surprisingly apt...since it's about a gay boy...my brother is not gay...this is just a pointless act of versification. this is what happens when you start reading up on utterly pointless subjects such as poetry. Yes it would be nice to show off later...BUT just suck on the irony of all the jargon...all the heavy duty lingo I just used to describe (correctly I think) eight lines of the stupidest pair of balls you'll ever come across. Pun intended.
I'm just trying to practice so i don't forget all this bull shit...I have to know this so I know why I reject something for a magazine...and so I can give definite answers to the contributors when I do so and thus, I would finally have substantial reasons to reject poetry submitted...but...what if the bastards claim free verse!! This is all frankly driving me nuts...considering how i have recently found out that i have only ever written one true poem...no no actually...these things don't really matter...I mean there has to be some sense or something but anyhoo all i've learned so far is to add "just" and "did" and "oft" and "so" and "and" to balance the verse where it becomes a bitch. That being said...read what all the teradactyls I've conjured and be amazed at how sad it all sounds when it's not being applied to a Tennyson or a Blake:


Damn you’re a whore with a face like a box.
Who could pretend to have sucked so much cock?
Won’t you refrain from these acts ludicrous?
Must you be made to behave just like us?

I admit I’m ashamed of how badly he’s dressed
He looks like a bitch and he acts all depressed
He’s a sibling of mine, only one that I have
Of the male persuasion, and yet gay as a hat

(I don't know if all hats are gay...but some actually are.)

2
Here's a question: is adults pronounced as 'ad-ults' or 'aDults' ? If it's the former then remove the "just" in the fourth line. If it's the latter then keep the damn "just" even though it is entirely stupid. It's all about the stress apparently...wtf? I'm the one who has stress...

Tetrameter/Trimeter

It was a park at night I saw
So full of people proud
The children played with fireworks
The adults just thought it loud.

A crowd of souls was bathed in light
Right here I saw it stand
Illuminating halogen
Spread across the land

Hard it was to see the fear
Buried in their eyes
Eyes that never will reveal
How many tears had dried

"But this is good," said One to me
"For now the mood is set
This is when We celebrate,
All thought must we forget."



3
I'm not going into this...it's not worth it.

Imabic Pentameter but utterly pointless

If I could find a friend for me my fiend
I would not loathe to rid myself of you.
These lines I write are in a special form
I think it’s called iambic pantaloon.
The dull student will not be quick to learn
But he might still a decent teacher make
So this is how you use this crazy craft
To write some random nonsense is not art
And yet I don’t have much I should convey
I guess I’ll think of some another day.
If I can manage just a few more lines
I’ll be quite as good as Shakespeare’s ass
That used to fart a poem out everyday
And where it went I swear I cannot say.