Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CJ Sutherland May 28
Mrs. Goddard
Looked like Mary Poppins
Always a smile on her face
Caring, Kindness Grace
I wanted to please her
By doing my best
Ace every test

“If At first  
You don’t succeed
Try Try again”

The reward
“To be a Study Buddy”
Help a friend do better
“A feather in your Cap”

We all wanted to be
The little engine that could
To always do good

“I can if I think I can”

Third grade was
A milestone
Our touch tone
It was the First time
Our voices were heard
Even the
Outlandish absurd

I wanted to
Come to school
To learn
“The Golden Rule”

Every morning
She smiled
Every inch
Every mile
She started
The class
With promise
We were beguiled
She had many sayings
Like Mary Poppins

“A spoon full of sugar
Helps the medicine go down
Is the most delightful way”

I still remember
“Silence is golden
So get rich quick”

We would settle in
Wiggling anxiously
In our chairs
Giggling without care
Soaking up
The happiness
In the  AIR
Glancing around
Anticipation giddy
Ready to get to
The nitty-gritty

It was a look
A glance
A waltz
A dance
An expression
Her finger
On her lips
She invited us…

“Are you ready?”
Every face, Smiled
“All right, Boys and Girls ”
“Put on your Thinking Caps”

Each eager child
Full grin smiles
One and all
Went through
The motions
Of putting on
Their Thinking Caps
Arms over the head
Adjusting it just right

She would ask
“Is it on
Good and tight”
We Readjusted our
Caps for good measure
Her face beaming
Smiling with pleasure

We saw our Cap
in our mind
By her
Design

That was the start
of  Our
Imagination
Time
Infatuation
Admiration
Appreciation
Nurtured
We grew
Sublime

We were all
Diamonds
In the rough
With years of
Refinement
We will shine
Sparkle glow
To perfection
Let our inside
Show

Don’t worry
About
Little chips
Imperfections
Polish and shine
Until
No detection

Five minutes
Seemed
Like Forever  

Seeing
the end In sight
Never

As we grew
We knew
Interminable
Time
Marched on

All we can do
Is wait
For what comes
Next

Inspired songs;
1) everything is beautiful 1970
By Ray Stevens

2) remember the days of the old school yard 1977
By Cat Stevens

3) teach your children well
By Crosby Stills Nash & Young 1970


BLT Webster’s word of the day challenge
May 27, 2025
Interminable
Things that have or seem to have no end, especially because they continue for a very long time.
That was the year a boy kissed me
I was madder than a hornet‘s nest. He put our friendship to the test. I had no interest in boys. I was a tomboy
I interested only in running faster, better, then the boys. Not because I wanted to be a Boy, but because I could
My 4 brothers called me a (tomboy) my father called me Charmin Carmen. That’s the year. I got my nickname.
My mom still put me in dresses, but I wore shorts underneath to maintain my propriety.
It wasn’t easy t climbing a chain-link fence with a baseball mitt in a dress, but I  did it gracefully!
The first girl baseball player in full stride , by third grade
A rural country girl in a city school.
josef May 26
scared shitless of the idea that
in a month i’ll probably never see
him again

a constant in my life ever since year 7
someone who awoke something in me
allowing me to see who he is
what am i
without him anchoring me
like a drifting ship to shore
W
Anais Vionet May 25
Can you make a friend— like a craft project?
I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.”

All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee?

Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed.

So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand.

We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.”
Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me.

Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed.
“But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically.
“Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.”
Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly.
Yeah, we hit it right off.
.
.
Songs for this:
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
Perfect Day by Povo
Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/24/25:
limn = to portray in clear sharp detail
Anais Vionet May 21
I’ve moved out (of school),
I’m moving in (to school).
My joke is that I’m having a ‘moving experience.’

Graduating college (3 days ago) was a dream come true
I’m starting a master’s degree in 7 days.
You have to admire the efficiency.

Do I have your permission to bear my soul?
I might have imposter syndrome.
I’m a harsh critic—of everything—but mostly me.

I’m over the romance and pressure of school.
I’m starting the romance and pressure of school.
Don’t worry, this isn’t hapless, sad girl literature.

Or a diary—it’s a portrayal of my inner life.
.
.
A song for this:
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
Messy by Lola Young [E]
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/21/25:
Hapless = means "having no luck."
Pagan Paul May 20
I started school in nineteen hundred and typing error. But we were so poor growing up we had to share clothes, so I could only go to school every other day on account of being a twin. PE was a little embarrassing as I had a twin sister. It wasn't so much playing rugby in a netball skirt, no – my problem was trying to iron the pleats back in afterwards.

At 6 years old I was cast in my infant schools nativity play as 3rd reserve palm tree, in a play with no palm trees in it. When I complained to the teacher she told me to stop moaning and remember what jesus taught us.
“Can I be that?” I asked
“What?” she said
“You said jesus had a tortoise, can I be the tortoise?”

At 14 years old I was given a major role in my upper schools annual PTA play. We were doing Romeo and Juliet and I was cast as – the balcony. However on the night of the performance, unlike in rehearsals, the girl playing Juliet wore stiletto heels. So when she stepped onto the balcony (me) it yelped and rolled over. She went base over apex knocking over Romeo and landed spread-eagled on the floor that revealed her underwear to the whole audience. I am sure I speak for every parent, teacher and pupil in that hall when I say that I can never look at My Little Pony in the same way ever again. She never spoke to me again – like it was my fault!

(Oct 2020)
Just something a little tongue in cheek for a serious world!
Reece May 18
Inside the insane asylum,
That I go to five days a week.
Straightjacket tight,
I can barely breathe.
Listening to all the inmates,
Contemplating all their mistakes,
I can’t even sleep.
They continuously repeat,
The same lines over and over again.
When is my reprieve?
Better be soon, before my mind turns to a ruin.
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I hear.
Their voices, drowning out,
Every other peaceful sound.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I feel the blood flow from my ears,
As I look to the ground,
And fade into the background.
Can’t believe I still have a couple years.
When I break free, will my fears control me?
Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by,
Sheep that would just follow the crowd,
Till they died.
Am I going crazy…?
Or is it just all hyperbole…?
Thank goodness I'm free, till August that is.
When did children lose their love of learning?

When they were told to conform,
To forget their being,
To discard interests, agency, creativity

My own complicity
In the stifling of identity

Authenticity, a digression of the self,
A dissolution of swarming
Complexities

When did I gain my love of learning?

The burning crucible
Of curiosity

Set aflame by rejection of conformity

Constraints, curriculum, crushing expectations
and a world disintegrating
fires of digressions

When is conformity an expression of authenticity?

When is authenticity just another form of conformity?
Everly Rush May 16
They cheered for them—
moms with cameras, dads with proud eyes—
I stood alone,
four medals in my hands,
three gold, one silver,
like they meant something.

I ran fast today.
I always do.
People say it’s talent.
My stepmom says
it’s because I like running from my problems.
She laughs when she says it.

She doesn’t know—
I run
because when I run,
the pain stays behind
for a while.

No blades.
No pills.
Just breath and burning legs
and the sound of my heart
trying to beat louder than the thoughts.

I crossed every line first
but still came last
in the only race that mattered—
the one where someone waits
at the end.

Sometimes I wonder
what it would feel like
to look into the crowd
and see someone who looks like love.
To have someone call my name
like it meant home.
I wish I had that kind of family—
the kind you don’t have to earn.
Anna May 13
the neighbour's phone rings next door,
the walls are so thin I can hear her answer.
my phone dings,
but my room still remains silent.
i should answer,
greet with the same answer I just heard.
but i don't move.
rare silence, contained only within my walls.
its not real silence, there is noise around me.
but not within.
so i lie still, waiting for that silence inside me to break.
then can i make noise?
Deona Spiteri May 13
We were asked, "What are your strengths and weaknesses?"
I kept looking at the paper as if it was written in an ancient language.
I repeated the question in my head, I'll think of something, right?
Such a simple question, yet my mind was blank.

I could think of so many weaknesses, but so little strengths.
Were strengths something I had to excel at? Do I just lie?
I couldn't mention a strength, I didn't want to seem arrogant.
I couldn't mention a weakness either, so I wouldn't seem like an attention seeker!

It felt funny, I could mention the strengths of those around me,
When it came to myself I was just empty.
Time was fleeting, it was running out,
The more I thought about it, the worse it got.

I began thinking of all the stuff I was good at, or so I thought.
"No, no, no, no!" Why couldn't I think of anything? Was I just talentless?
Why was I so bad at everything?
Inspired by my English classroom lol 😭
Next page