Student Poems | Examples of Student Poetry

My average means I don’t have to take final exams. So my bachelor's degree is a finished product. I cranked it out, all that’s left now is the walk (May 18th). Let’s call it my nearly forgotten masterpiece. My schedule says that I start a 1-year ‘master of public health’ degree in 38 days. It was my mom’s idea. She...

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There’s a farmers market near campus. A young couple has a pizza oven on a trailer. They make a breakfast pizza - bacon, mozzarella some egg and green peppers. It’s SO crispy and delicious. ALL I had to do this morning was say “breakfast pizza!” and six of us were ready to head out fifteen minutes later. Let’s wax poetic, shall...

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Lisa and I played a round of frisbee-disc golf today—let’s reminisce. I love the ‘live performance’ of sports, how you must physicalise discipline. You get this instant feedback that you have to own and lean hard into. The being present to adjust, the internalised mechanisms of performance—the ‘liveness’—is the most exciting thing about sports. And, of course, the...

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2025.4.14 This morning, two things happened At M Central while playing piano, And each of them really made my day. A young Asian woman, waited to speak to me. She said her name was VL and Has been coming here for months, On her way to work and dropping in to listen, She always wanted to tell me, My piano music has given her...

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I’m finally going to get on that platform on the 18th of next month, for a first-time, one-time performance. The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true, which seems like a lot narratively. It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out. Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions. We’re all caustically optimistic. Although there’s a cellular-level pull to...

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Socrates to Plato Emerson to Thoreau When the student is ready the teacher will appear Invaluable lessons will be on display for him to feel, see, and hear Ali to Larry Jordan to Kobe If the student is willing, he will do the valiant work He would rather not be the teacher; instead, he aims to show his worth Picasso to Warhol Brown to...

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2025.04.08 Recently, I was fortunate enough to receive Special treatments, at the RMIT building 51, Where not only I have had so much fun. But also having the bodily remedial therapy done. I chatted and laughed with these young students. What they did was part of their courses' curriculum. They came up with a win-win situation, Which they would provide massages...

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I don’t stream a lot of TV but once I’m in that mode, I’m down and I can’t get up. Best pickup line I heard this week: “You could be my emergency contact.” A girl recently called me “weird people.” She was effusive and I was put in my place. Apparently, good grammar isn’t legally enforceable. Her friend apologized, saying—and wrote it down. “She...

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My dorm room was bright this morning. It was disorienting. The sky outside was a cloudless, striking neon blue. The air was so crisp and clean, I could hardly feel it going in and out. It all sparked to create a diffused sense of well-being. Gone, it seems, were the concrete bunker feels of winter. There's been some loose talk...

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I keep thinking about this summer—about starting a new school—and as soon as I do, I find myself internally monologuing and getting all high-schooly. It’s hoot, I know, but I can’t seem to help it. ‘You know,’ I think, as I’m eyeing myself in the bathroom mirror, ‘I’ll just turn up, looking good, feeling confident about...

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I’m a bit of a sensualist. First, let me emphasise emotional resonance, there has to be an emotional base, not just an appreciation of hotness. Then, there’s a sense of longing and mystery— that male unknowableness. Don’t forget the hard strength of those rough male edges, you know, the feeling that he’s kind of sculpted from a marble and you just want to...

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The clock ticks, and I sit, it’s 1 AM, A silent treatment to the passing time. Tomorrow, something I cannot touch. Where will I be? Who will I become? The question haunts me but calms me Like quiet waves. Yet I remain here, In this cold chair, at this cluttered desk, Staring at the pages. The same as yesterday. The world outside spins, And yet I’m...

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It’s one in the morning. I zoomed into Lisa’s room and threw myself on the bed where she lay reading in a near virtuoso, Fosbury flop. She bounced, jostled by my mechanical bed wave. “I hate goodbyes,” I said, indignantly. “You’re not strong on hellos” she said, not looking up. “They’re so bone-marrow deep,” I went on, “they steal hope away.” “Did that...

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I have rituals for the first day of class like a superstitious athlete they get me into a good frame of mind where I feel like a juggernaut who has total agency and I don’t need to seek validation It’s a moment in time I have all my books—stacked on my desk they look serious—very nuts and bolts I’ve beaten the syllabuses to...

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When it came to love I had no real plan I know I wanted to connect in an intimate way with experimentation and playfulness I was short on experience there was a pandemic I’d had few ‘at-bats’ that’s a sports metaphor Much of it seemed surreal and abstract like we’d entered another realm of everyday places there was a subtle unpredictability that was unfiltered, instinctive and...

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