Suffocating silence,
my stumbling syllables
a classroom filled,
smoldering with energy
bright eyed aliens,
students not like me.
I bend my head
sharpened by my pencil:
tracing fantasies — faces,
angry demons, heroes;
trying hard forgetting fences,
rules and rulings
lines of letters
numbed by numbers
blushing
in a constricted canvas
— start of school.

Today Gabriella let us write about start of school at dVerse poetics. I actually went back to the first days of schools and I remember hating everything about it. I gradually learned to appreciate the lessons. Come join us, with your views of starting school. We open at 9PM CET.
oy – sounds like school gave you a hard time… the aliens… i always thought the teachers were aliens and the students the only normal people on earth…smiles
hey but seems like in the end you were quite successful with your learning
Great descriptions of the reluctant student, Bjorn. Well done. 🙂
Ha. I have lots of doodles in the margins of my notebooks. And on the cover of the notebook. and everywhere. Some notes too as well, but. It depends on the teacher more than the class. The wrong teacher can ruin any subject.
I do think your poem gives voice to the children for whom school is not a pleasant experience, for whom the others in the classroom seem like aliens & who no one seems like them. My heart goes out to those children, and I wish each of them to have a caring teacher.
“bright eyed aliens,”….brings home to us a fearful child, though with full of bright imaginations….
The memories must still be vivid in your mind, Björn. I am glad Icame to like school in the end. I like the painful image of the head ‘sharpened by (your) pencil’. I also doodled a lot as a student but mine were more shapes and stars than monsters.
I, of course, meant ‘I am glad you came to like…’
I normally loved that first day, the excitement of going back, seeing friends, new shoes!
I hope it’s the same for my twins. That they look forward to the new start.
So cool that not all of us were in a Pollyanna state on that first day of school, when socialization became a permanent part of our life. Snacks & naps & creative arts & recess were my best moments.
I know how that feels like…I felt like going home right away ~ Unless we get over that fear and anxiety, school days are long nightmares. Good one Bjorn ~
So many diverse reactions to our memories of school. My dislike surfaced more around the 4th grade when I had a nasty teacher in a new school where I never felt accepted.
I love your image of ‘constrictive canvas’ – that is very much the case still, unless you are lucky to have a good and understanding teacher. A huge shock to the system.
I did like school early on – it felt like play, but with more interesting new ideas and ways to explore things. Later on, and as I moved countries, it became more regimented and I really did feel like an alien (or was regarded as one), so you have really reminded me very vividly of that time.
‘smouldering with energy’ … great line and can relate to much of what you capture here. Not always easy and fun times for everybody!
Such an incredible poem. Filled with good energy
and all your lines are pure gold. 🙂
Your style of writing has always inspired me. 🙂
P.S When you get a chance stop by my page and read my newest poem. I know you’ll like it. It’s sci-fi.
As a small child, I loved school and everything about it. After high school, I loved college and law school. I’d go back again if I could. Sounds like your experience was a tad different. 😉 Peace, Linda
I know how difficult school can be , especially for gifted children. I’m glad you had art to help you through! You captured the emotions so well in this piece.
Many children have painful memories of school…you shared this poignantly. It’s one of the reasons we chose to homeschool.
Sound like you enjoyed school as “much” as I did. All the aliens about, the doodling to escape. I felt the pain in this.
Ah, I can understand not like school — me too — well, except for Math and Science
I get it…..weren’t none too comfortable, and your poem made me uncomfortable reading it. Made me sorry I did not say hello to you in class more.
Ah.. yes.. i can relate.. difficulty speaking
coherently straight with no mumbling
or stuttering to effectively
communicate.. straight
A’s are not enough when
one fails the speaking
parts in roles
of School..
and for
me the
writing no easier
to come up with
anything new..:)
Your experience makes an interesting poem, well observed and remembered. How did your pencil sharpen your head? I am intrigued.
I felt the angst of that day…I’m glad you adjusted and it didn’t continue that way. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be reading your poetry today 😉
Bright eyed aliens – ha, I love to think that way too. Adorable…..
felt the struggle in this… it was hard even back then…
All those feelings and enthusiasm will be experienced again duplicating the rounds of earlier times!
Hank
That took us back a bit.Nice
Great details…struggle ….and all the adjustments of a new year.
I could relate so well to your poem, Bjorn. School days were never good for me. The social aspect overshadowed everything. “Constricted” and “suffocating silence” really hit home for me.
“suffocating silence” That pretty much describes much of my school years. While I enjoyed the actually learning aspect, everything else about school was not easy. Each year the same new hope, each year the same old hurt. Ugh, this brought back some memories.
a constricted canvas – yes, that is certainly one way of looking at the hours children spend warehoused in a classroom.