A Bit of College Poetry

As I was perusing through my old writings I came across some poems I had written for college English classes. I'm not really a poet, but I do consider these to be not too shabby for me, so I figured I'd share them. Hope you enjoy.

Shining rays reflect brilliant in my eye

the last dying light of day, dwindling ‘til

all the world is swaddled in dark. Lie still

my intellect. Allow my thoughts to die.

Close my eyes and see what wonders await.

In the abyss of careful dreams employ

Imagination’s wandering sight. Bind not

my soul to worries which deprive of joy.

Unfetter instead hellish shackles hot;

upon waking this prison contemplate.

Peace. Now. On liberty’s golden wings fly.

Rest. Now. Rapid approaches morning’s chill

And the choral rays of day singing shrill

‘Awaken! Man! And toil in the light.’

Sounds

Speak.

Words.

Sounds.

Floating through the air.

Telling.

Asking.

Demanding.

Floating to my ear.

Sounds.

Words.

Feelings.

Waiting for me to take them in.

Deaf.

Dumb.

Empty.

I respond.

Speak.

Words.

Sounds.

Meaningless.

Advice from Wise Men

Be somebody! See the world! Make a name for yourself!

The advice of wiser men ringing in my ears.

How can I do that? I inquire humbly.

Be smart! Study! Set yourself apart from your peers!

The voices of my experienced guides.

Study what? Set me apart how? In my questions a hint of fear.

Be unique! Do something original! Discover something grand!

These cacophony counsels await the reply of cheers.

Very well, say I, if new is what is wanted, new I will create.

But hold there! Wait a minute! You’ve misconstrued our meaning!

These self same voices, crying out in union very near.

Misconstrued? Gentlemen I’m confused. What then desire you of me?

Obey our rules! Learn our ways! Leave the masters to create!

The advice of wiser men, pressing on my mind.

Very well, is my reply, I shall do no more, than your works elevate.

There’s a man worthy of note! He’ll go far! He’s better than the rest!

The simple praise of older men, set about my dreams to devastate.

P.S. A note on the last two. They're kind of depressing. This is not because I am a depressed or depressing person. The assignment for class was to write two poems like the ones we were reading. Apparently, those instructions only applied to the style not the mood, but I misunderstood because all the poems we were reading were very sad, but very good. The poet's name is May Ayim. She's incredible. I highly recommend her work.