Some of the poems I wrote for that Poetry Writing course were inspired by the year I spent studying at the University of Leeds. The people I met, my dorm room, even a lecture. No topic was safe when poetry had to be written in order for me to graduate.
Arrival:
Bare yellow walls stare at me;
Empty bookshelves display wide, gaping spaces;
A wardrobe looms, door ajar;
And my suitcases wait in the corner.
Departure:
Bare yellow walls console me;
Empty bookshelves present wide, gaping spaces;
The wardrobe closes its door;
And my suitcases wait in the corner.
(September 26, 1987)
The snow - it fell.
The wind - it blew.
The weather - it was cold.
"Don't go out unless you must!"
That's what we'd all been told.
The North was chilly;
The South was frigid;
Schools and roads were closed.
Overall, effects were worse
Than could have been supposed.
But we are students,
Brave and true;
Knowledge we must gain.
We can't stop nor take a break
For snow, or sleet, or rain.
On we trudged
Through slop and slush;
We braved the bitter blasts.
We cared not if we caught our deaths;
We had to get to class.
Rooms were icy;
Windows were frosted;
The lecturers didn't care.
On they droned, and on and on...
While we froze to our chairs.
But, we are students,
Brave and true;
Knowledge we must gain.
And if it snows and blows tonight,
Like tired horses they're falling
one by one
an ordered trail forms
no one can stop it
once it starts
on and on
he drones
attention
no one pays him anymore
no one cares
pointless to
be here now
ceased caring
leave
I wish he would
leave
I
wish
I
co
u
l
d
(October 11, 1987; revised January 5, 1988)