A Day in Class

So this is the kind of stuff that passes for poetry in this blog. Anyway, boring class, the creative output of which is set out below.


I sit and stare, at a clock, while people around me,
make no sense when they talk.

The master of proceedings, the professor, leads a discussion superfluous,
time slows down, no one makes a fuss.

Some go on and on, loving the sound of their own voice,
if they only knew, half the class would shoot them if they had a choice.

Paying attention, the blessed note-takers,
sleeping in the back, the usual rule-breakers.

Someone’s doing the crossword, one is catching up on his reading,
others are staring at their watches, and silently pleading.

The bored student, staring at a pretty face,
gets caught in the act, hastily lowers his gaze.

Amidst the drudgery, something mildly amusing is heard,
there is desk banging in unison, though most didn’t even catch a word.

Someone is interrupted, from his daydreams and thoughts,
asked to answer a question, he doesn’t know squat.

People texting each other, and notes being passed,
messages delivered, in the way of the present, and the way of the past.

The process of attendance, was pretty much a farce,
for most of those marked present, are not in the class.

One of the blessed souls, who made the effort of staying behind,
was caught using his phone and very heavily fined.

‘No more’, he swore, ‘Hey Teacher, have some mercy’,
I made the effort of coming to class, please show me some courtesy.

His plea unheard, his voice marked with resonance,
he resolved in future, to deny the class his presence.

Another subplot, the students sitting so close,
giggling to each other while people behind them doze.

A person moves to the next seat, there begins a fight,
for a student sleeping comfortably, is now in the teacher’s line of sight.

Sit in front of me please, a cacophony of voices breaks out,
the teacher, interrupted from his reverie, wonders what this is all about.

The classroom is a place to chill, a place to unwind,
but we grow dull and despondent, if we’re there for too much time.

I yearn to be liberated, I yearn to be free,
I yearn to escape from this room so dreary.

A sigh of relief, someone’s rung the bell,
it’s time to escape, from the classroom from hell.