I haven't posted a thread here in "Imaginari" before, but this is something I've worked on recently. This first poem is related to something everyone has to deal with at some level.
SEXUAL TEMPTATION
All around me
To and fro
In front, behind
Above, below
I cannot escape
From the attack
-------------------------
Within my head
Around my face
Inside my brain
It's everyplace
Turning what was once
White into black
-------------------------
And as I try
To live my life
It cuts like
A hundred tiny knives
Slowly tearing warm chunks
From my heart
-------------------------
I turn away
Successfully
The next time, though,
Deciding not to flee,
I look again and
Feel the battle start
-------------------------
Oh God, to you
Alone, I turn
And ask, no plea
This filth to burn
Out of my mind
forever and a day
--------------------------
For if your Word
Can take its place
And songs of joy
Fill in the space
Then it will have no room
To come inside and play
Pagerron 10/29/06
This one is a more light-hearted one that I wrote in high school. The names of teachers have been omitted.
A DAY AT MY HIGH SCHOOL
You wake up at five-thirty to catch the "guagua" at six.
There are no more Cocoa Puffs, Corn Flakes, or Trix.
You arrive to school at seven-twenty eight.
You run into the green building inside of the gate.
You walk into school, still sound asleep.
You sit down in first period and your watch goes "beep."
The teacher drones on and tries to keep attention.
The students are asleep or making sounds that I can't mention.
The bell finally rings. You rush to to door.
Now there's homeroom, then only six periods more.
Songs play on the PA. You put your head on the table.
"The yearbook's ninety-nine dollars and the team wasn't able."
You're out of homeroom. It's time for period two.
You see a teacher on the floor. His face is blue.
He's calling for help. He's pulling out his hair.
You can't be late to next period, so you leave it to --- .
You open the door. Everyone looks glad.
The teacher's got a fever. "Too bad."
Your sub is six feet tall, clipping toenails at the desk.
Her hair is dark brown, serving as a pigeon's nest.
The bell rings for class to start. The sub let's out a roar.
Her breath is like a toxic wind rolling into shore.
No one blinks. We're all too frightened to move.
Scratching the board with her nails, she makes a deep groove.
She gives fourteen detentions, which no one will serve.
She's built just like Big Foot with not one womanly curve.
Thirty seconds left. You want to leave.
The bell rings three times. You're finally relieved.
You stop at your locker between second and third.
Between wings B and C you spot the famous chicken bird.
You're now in third period, almost halfway through the day.
You color and do dittos. That teacher shouldn't get paid.
Halfway through the class, the fire alarm rings.
As people leave the room, they start to sing.
Standing outside, you see your friend's car is wrecked.
You can't go out to lunch; you'll get no respect.
You're late for fourth period. The teach doesn't mind.
He picks up the paper that you never could find.
You talk 'til the bell that's been held for ten minutes.
You just can't wait for lunch, where the lady'll give you spinach.
The day's gone really slowly. It's time for a high school lunch.
You bite into the pizza. The roach goes crunch.
You swallow the milk that tastes like mozzarella.
Then the salad and hashbrowns start mating with the jello.
You skip fifth period. You see Mrs. ---.
You'll have to go to sixth where you'll freeze to the bone.
You talk about Homer, Clymnestra, and Paris.
There are so many names. No one really cares.
Now for period seven. You're feeling dead.
You have to copy notes from the overhead.
You talk current events, and you want to go home.
One the "guagua" that's yellow with bumpers of chrome.
Pagerron - high school
Have a great night everyone. Comments are welcome.
SEXUAL TEMPTATION
All around me
To and fro
In front, behind
Above, below
I cannot escape
From the attack
-------------------------
Within my head
Around my face
Inside my brain
It's everyplace
Turning what was once
White into black
-------------------------
And as I try
To live my life
It cuts like
A hundred tiny knives
Slowly tearing warm chunks
From my heart
-------------------------
I turn away
Successfully
The next time, though,
Deciding not to flee,
I look again and
Feel the battle start
-------------------------
Oh God, to you
Alone, I turn
And ask, no plea
This filth to burn
Out of my mind
forever and a day
--------------------------
For if your Word
Can take its place
And songs of joy
Fill in the space
Then it will have no room
To come inside and play
Pagerron 10/29/06
This one is a more light-hearted one that I wrote in high school. The names of teachers have been omitted.
A DAY AT MY HIGH SCHOOL
You wake up at five-thirty to catch the "guagua" at six.
There are no more Cocoa Puffs, Corn Flakes, or Trix.
You arrive to school at seven-twenty eight.
You run into the green building inside of the gate.
You walk into school, still sound asleep.
You sit down in first period and your watch goes "beep."
The teacher drones on and tries to keep attention.
The students are asleep or making sounds that I can't mention.
The bell finally rings. You rush to to door.
Now there's homeroom, then only six periods more.
Songs play on the PA. You put your head on the table.
"The yearbook's ninety-nine dollars and the team wasn't able."
You're out of homeroom. It's time for period two.
You see a teacher on the floor. His face is blue.
He's calling for help. He's pulling out his hair.
You can't be late to next period, so you leave it to --- .
You open the door. Everyone looks glad.
The teacher's got a fever. "Too bad."
Your sub is six feet tall, clipping toenails at the desk.
Her hair is dark brown, serving as a pigeon's nest.
The bell rings for class to start. The sub let's out a roar.
Her breath is like a toxic wind rolling into shore.
No one blinks. We're all too frightened to move.
Scratching the board with her nails, she makes a deep groove.
She gives fourteen detentions, which no one will serve.
She's built just like Big Foot with not one womanly curve.
Thirty seconds left. You want to leave.
The bell rings three times. You're finally relieved.
You stop at your locker between second and third.
Between wings B and C you spot the famous chicken bird.
You're now in third period, almost halfway through the day.
You color and do dittos. That teacher shouldn't get paid.
Halfway through the class, the fire alarm rings.
As people leave the room, they start to sing.
Standing outside, you see your friend's car is wrecked.
You can't go out to lunch; you'll get no respect.
You're late for fourth period. The teach doesn't mind.
He picks up the paper that you never could find.
You talk 'til the bell that's been held for ten minutes.
You just can't wait for lunch, where the lady'll give you spinach.
The day's gone really slowly. It's time for a high school lunch.
You bite into the pizza. The roach goes crunch.
You swallow the milk that tastes like mozzarella.
Then the salad and hashbrowns start mating with the jello.
You skip fifth period. You see Mrs. ---.
You'll have to go to sixth where you'll freeze to the bone.
You talk about Homer, Clymnestra, and Paris.
There are so many names. No one really cares.
Now for period seven. You're feeling dead.
You have to copy notes from the overhead.
You talk current events, and you want to go home.
One the "guagua" that's yellow with bumpers of chrome.
Pagerron - high school
Have a great night everyone. Comments are welcome.
Comment