Posts tagged ‘Students’

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.

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March 30, 2015

Local News on Finding the Missing

Local news helicopters clapped with
their loud sound as they converged
overhead on the scene, where strangers stopped
to mingle at Coffman Mall, thoughts the worst,
converse on occurrences this once;
I heard “she jumped off the 10th Avenue Bridge,”
a bystander rattled off as rain patted
my mourning-black jacket wet,
standing in a crowd of unknowns, nobodies,
with that heavy buzzing sound in my ears,
while eyes of those around on the ground
looked up—to focus, at those looking down,
focusing, seeing their intrigued glassy whites,
for a moment, everyone watched,
then off they went, no “buddy system”,
about their days in different directions.

March 29, 2015

Bike to Attain a Surly Pentagram at Zipp’s

At times we are a shameless weekend day-drunk,
on more mission than malicious,
while some factors remain
out of our hands.

It was…

In Dinkytown, a hundred dollars pocketed,
bike tires on fresh-thawed paths—
I moved with those in needed noontime sun,

where girls in flowery mini-skirts and low-cut t-shirts
families holding hands and smiling men—friends,
on a walk, on the go,

to Washington Ave, to West River Parkway, to bike paths,
more on the trek: sunglasses, glances, buses, and light-rails
those along the tracks.

Nothing stopped,
masses moving,
given this,
a Saturday to spend,
listless.

In the foreground beautiful dimensions;
a bridge expanse,
where tons of rock and rubble smashed,
stood in the sky above brown waters stirring,

above geese making wake,

with joggers, debris, bikers, and cars in the street,

this is where a person must stand the apex and view the cityscape ahead,
from South,
from Franklin Ave Bridge, it was.

Where Marathons had crossed,
where break-ups took place,
where others died on bikes by cars
in the twilight.

Memorials stood for them, fading,
locked to poles,
alabaster.

My mission: head to Zipp’s for that
Surly, Pentagram:
a $25 bottled designer beer.

I had to,
latent function ephemera.

A need,
like biking while cars pass,

here, remembering houses and nightly walks home alone,
or with new found strangers,
remembering people under streetlamps, red eyes glare,
empty cans and scattered trash about,
remembering.

An accident brought me back here for something,
Seward streets and an absence of time.

I thought of Tracy’s and Luce,
and cigarettes and movies,

of what I had not come to see,
but did…

I was careful with my backpack, another bottle couldn’t break.

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.

November 4, 2014

Lind Hall in the Fall

Minus an hour,
Gained moonlight;
In the cold wind that blows,
Under moonlit skies.

Trees spoke to shadows—distant,
As the wind rustled
Through long hung dried leaves.

-A paper-rattle crescendo.

Night fell in the Fall;
With these empty halls, abandoned stairs, to exit doors freely.

What a season came in,
What off cry sustained.

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.

September 3, 2014

Day One: Campus Type

Cigarette ashes hang like eyelashes

of campus distractions,

from broken hand sinewy seams

this be the death of me-

 

…  and some;

carless,

embarrassed,

 

No Feelings: numb.

 

American Literature and computer generated poetry; as art- good start to the semester, the sun is out in all its glory.

 

Covered in leather and bruises, she moves, tattooed, wounds fester, pimple-faced and searching for pleasure and adventure, no more mommy and daddy leisure.

 

It’s true.

 

Beautiful green lost confused, children adults on the move; me too,

How about you?

 

Choose.

 

Brilliant fulfillment,

United States we live in, lucid livid.

 

Self –surgery

type urgency.

 

Bearing my frown like a leaky raincoat in the center of this rainstorm,

maintaining a productive stance on consuming all there is to absorb.

 

Advice: Mornings are easier when you don’t drink every night,

but for what I’ve just seen I just might.

 

Educate me on this system.

Please, teach me now. 

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).

May 7, 2014

End of the Semester

Last of these few days together
There was no breakfast made
Non-existent intent, in good weather
We were making this class in so many ways

Gathered- some, walking in, I sat
Gathered- now, thoughts, just exist

Relax, no time to witness or waste
Intact presently;
Though,
Fleeting
Sentiment
Of haste—

Grades that won’t really matter in the end
That of experience made in debt we lend

Month-to-month climbing up that ladder
Procrastinated moments, shared in a scatter

It will not happen like this again
It will not be the same my friend

Take it in without tears
Shed skin of early fears
In and amongst peers
Exasperated we cheer

To contemplate is too late
Thinking is a past-moment’s luxury
To know the feeling to date
Can’t explain what’s become of me

Showered, shaved, straddled steel bike frame, then came
Locked and walked up stairs everyday
Opened doors in the deep Winter
Even up until early May

Nothing lasts forever
Maybe these memories
Moments that we’ve changed
Until they at once fade away

Gathered dust
Flight of feather
Come so far
Once together
Heavy hearted
Was all pleasure

Tethered to that time

I said I was here to make grades not friends
In the end I was wrong again

It was on that fast dying day that I knew.

April 21, 2014

Beautiful Faults

I can read the scar on his face

Outline grooved

Intensely indented

Somewhat shadowed

Speaking volumes

 

I can read the scar on his face

It’s not a conjured statement, it just is

 

Facing out,

It exists on just that

 

It will never leave him,

It will be there tomorrow when I look back