Yet -a "C" does not define me-Revisited

A "C" does not define me
it only serves to try me,
to gain attention of a higher grade.

It wittles and it tries me,
and often does it buy me
much added tension
to my stress filled day.

No, a "C" does not yet thrill me,
but hardly will it kill me,
therein is the element of pride . . .
for a "C' will just afford me,
a level of generality-
and therein -will I choose not to abide.

Ode To MAT 1033

Numbers are members
to an exclusive club,
filled with Algebraic expressions
Trigonometry and stuff.

They talk of equations
polynomial - and - linear,
with trinomial factors
causing exponential fear.

Numbers are members
a sect of their own,
hard to compete with
and bad to the bone.

They build the tall buildings
they medicate the sick,
they teach the young children
to measure with a 'stick.'

Numbers are members
-for this club I seek,
I study and I mingle
for a chance to compete;

and give numbers a chance
to take hold of my brain,
and help me succeed -
in this mathematical game.

Numbers are members . . .
maybe one day - I'll be.

a "C" does not define me.

The Lettering - that teachers bring
their students, after test-
dispells the myth, much to their wit
they did not give 'their best.'

For such a grade - will so display
a triumphant bold decree-
victor or victorious,
or plain mediocrity.

But, to the dismay
of those who lay
beside their books -pre-test,
it may be
the letter - "C"
does not define 'your best.'

The Face of History

Today the face of history
has changed.

We have witnessed Dr. King's dream come full circle;
and the world as we have known it -
will never, ever be the same.

Red and yellow, black and white -
America has chosen
Obama, tonight.

God bless America-

11/4/2008

She Wore A Mask

She wore a mask today -
You know,
the one she wears when she pretends she doesn't hear you?
Her smile was as fake-
as the porcelain nails on each finger.
Her voice, like the sound of metal on a chalkboard,
made me cringe.
She spewed out obscenities known to her personality;
her cruel gift of sarcasm,wrapped in an angry box,
tied with a bow of bitter laughter,
was most often left for me.

She wore a mask today -
still I recognized her.

There is nothing as transparent
as the thinly veiled disguise . . . .
of narcissistic pride.

When I Look Outside the Window

Hope stands alone dressed in lightly colored array-
captured only by the expectation within the heart.
When properly courted, Hope unfolds herself
allowing the heart to melt,
Causing an eruption in the ordinary =
giving a new sense to the mundane.

Hope dances with delight when the heart gives her a chance;
she takes life cautiously by the hand-
strolling down roads.
A heart whispers secret desires
into Hopes blissful abandon, knowing they are safe there.

When I look outside the window,
i smile inside -
Hope is there . . .

The Slums of Techno

It lies in wait to cover me,this anxiety I feel -
as sweat beads from my fore head,I almost want to keel
over, from stupidity, that techno folks know not,
simple icons -and verbage used
-confuse the ones untaught.

More unanswered questions-
bottled pain reduced to numb,
cannot express myself in terms-
I am reduced to techno-slum.

Posted by Tesi at 8:27 AM 0 comments