Posts tagged ‘American College’

September 24, 2015

On campus in a basement…

Sitting in a basement classroom—
the best a big ten university could offer,
listening to words of power,
details revealed. This conversation happened
a day or so before, made new now by
a faux Foucault. Then someone subjectively said,
“… It was merely objective to be like this…”
And I still don’t enjoy groups of people
or the idea that we are all learning
in relation to the concept of doubling.
The thought is not the same. This lack
of accountability comes cleverly masked.
Noticing errors on the Powerpoint slides,
a man outside in gray moving a door,
and this farce called academia expressed.
Some pretend to be actual Philosophers,
I think I’ll pretend to be Jesus: I forgive them.

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April 21, 2015

Education Vs. Nature

Sat in a classroom,
boxy and smug,
to

hear the whole world passionately explained,
exactly described,

as
it happens before
and without us
just
outside.

April 15, 2015

Dangerous Objects

The
most dangerous,
and worrisome,
objects
that
could potentially
occupy
the space within a backpack
are
heavy and overpriced textbooks
and
cheap ripened bananas,
next to each
other.

They tell a tale of economics and lifestyle…

I
think this
as
I go along Coffman Memorial Union,
the pricey disaster
on my
back.

March 11, 2015

A March of Yoga Pants in the Sun

A few brittle flakes of flesh fall to
the standard grey University desk in front of me.

Evidence of one memorable bench-sit sunning had brought me gifts today,
parts of me and more.

They came in gaggles of yoga pants, sparkling wet sidewalk pools—dripping,
and the wafted smell of thawing topsoil.

These odors damp and dank, some familiar and sweet, natürlich;
smells a boy can never forget.

Sharing words of Baudelaire and Schadenfreude,
Chaucer and April—but, hypocrite reader, you are not guilty,

it is I with the pen and the paper and the view and the thought in mind—
These other student-creatures saunter forward naked, empty, out of

static blasé bundles of winter climes, too Springtime is due, unawares.
I smile at the idea of my taut semi-reddened flesh, dried and cooked

in yesterday’s ultraviolet rays—as my significant other warns of skin cancer,
but this is my proud ignorant trophy to own.

I can only thin-lipped big-tooth express, and fiddle with dead skin cells
as they rest on my desk in cross-shadows and heated-light.

December 4, 2014

Finals in a Boat

Thick are these academic papers;
We cling to as long proved assets.
Fingers flip thru dull page after page,
Proving proclaimed righteous passage.

Moving red eyes scan this distant mote,
To grasp sought after effective note.
Hoping, praying, and prying we go,
Aspire this traveled boat always floats.

Thru vast opaque waters of fluid mind,
Much is the lacking of present time.
Having been assailed, to keep us entwined,
Confined we fret, towing endless line.

To calmer seas onward we press,
Trying challenges bested, nobly met.
To succeed; to degrees; to just pay rent-
Precious hours of our lives lost or lent.

To dock that long off nigh forgotten vessel,
To pin to chest the highest rank of glint medal.

***
See what I’ve caught? It’s called a label.

September 26, 2014

Hollow Bones or Dead Teeth

He sat,
Clasped hands,
Sometimes clattered on the desk,
Wearing his nails long;
Hollow bones or dead teeth,
Criticizing,
Moving with gestures-

-Words on gender and pleasure.

One must point the finger
At self
In a mirror
To find out.

Once to be challenged
Once to be inspired.

Ah, the English Major exacting his critiques on me…
God save silence, God save Education, God save humility.

May 12, 2014

Another Night on Desk

Hourly gate counts
Stale air
Moments we forget to breathe

Passing the time
Without care
Caught in the hours between

They come in
Walking by
A try at upping the score

Questions so trivial
Evermore
Inquisitively why- I have no idea what for

Heaven and Hell
Two Options
Conclusions which have never failed

Lives we live
Routines assumed
Trials and tests we’ve prevailed

Truth and Lies
Who decides?
Each way holding a selective form

Beauty proved smart
Elegant sort
Passing they nod or wave their tiring decorum

Sun to Moon
Lighted beam (which looms)
Change of perspective and dreams

Mind is worn
Thoughts gone lost
Floating unobtrusively in certain scenes

Auf Wiedersehen to once beloved context
Oh, for heaven sake such (memes)
Au revoir to twice made attempts to contend
Occupation: desk- (maintaining un-split seams).

April 30, 2014

The whole world in 105 lines (amongst peers)

The whole world in 105 lines (amongst peers):

Here’s a start:
We all have Minds
We all have Hearts

We all have Eyes
Contemplation of kinds
Time;
Histories and Pasts,
That we forget

Movements

Moments we haven’t
Spent

That of what
Of which
We can reflect:

Before, Now, Happenstance,
And Present Tense–

There,
I said it in less.

Let’s not digress
There’s more to life
Than what’s defined
Even in 105 lines

Even if you were to try,

However, at least you did

I promise-

The whole world is like this.

(End)

The only person stopping you from doing anything is yourself.

September 1, 1939, By W. H. Auden.

April 22, 2014

Worn Soles (How to tell a Major)

Shoes lined the step
No faces to connect
Worn Chuck’s symbolize fun
Mindset symbolized by dress

Who owns them in person?
Who unties them at rest?
Who wears them out walking?
Who sits them snug under desk?

A mile in shoes and you’ll know any old fool
One’s on life’s route just running through
Jumping foils and flows constant as they go
Rubber soles smoothed stories traveled true

The ebb and flow goes under toe
The times that move ever slow
We walk on fast, and move on past
Our shoes just follow below.

One can always tell a shoe by the wearer
One can tell a major by Chuck Taylor’s (English).

April 10, 2014

The Sense of Morgen

Morning language of foreign affairs
Out the door, across the lawn
A man lip-syncs silent frustrations
Coming light exposes woken dawn

From afar becoming freshly shaven
Supple smooth shining firm at distant sight
Exposed shoulders soft warm- they smolder
Bending and twisting with purposeful might

Flattened fur amongst fallen fodder
Stepping past on sprung gait fore longed
Hesitate to walk, they jump at a ponder
A flock of Birds sing their sweetly song

Traverse moving, coming forth
Up the stairs straight along the rail
I come passing through the door
Winds up blowing leaves as a sail

Dimmed light inside; night, upon the daily rags
I grab one staggering past as a lady bends
Hands pull and from the rack this pulp drags
Front cover to see what this issue lends:

Of riots it talks, never had that haughty celebration
Of pay it talks, we aim to change the penurious situation
Of development it talks, can we mount this station for payment?
Of research it talks, for progress searching for inspiration

Take a seat and read, the day’s been made
Take some time to think of all these claims.

***
This rests in between reality and not.