SCHOOLYARD FIGHT
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SCHOOLYARD FIGHT
It has rained. The air is moist And the sun burns in the sky. Winged ants leave their nests And soar in mating flights. The beehives are restless. The scouts are out and about. There is the thrumming of a thousand wings. At any moment the queen could emerge And the whole swarm rise like Hiroshima. In the schoolyard there is prickly heat. Collars stick grimily to the backs of necks. Teenage boys glisten sweatily. From every pore leaks musth. They swagger like bantam cocks And strut their verbal spurs. They strain on the leash like pit bulls, Snarling but half glad to be restrained. The teachers on patrol can smell it too. There is an aimless milling around, A madding crowd of students. They wisely keep their distance. This swarm is Africanized. With a roar the fight commences. The boys close ranks, swirl and press And form a perfect hurricane. In the eye of the storm in dead calm Two boys live out their hormonal destiny. One will win to soar with the queen. The other will lie bloodied in the dust. The teachers puff smoke to calm the bees Who dissipate miraculously And the unnatural order is restored. |
Submitted on 2007-12-04 19:23:10 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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The figure is beautifully done. Is it an embittered view of Nature? Depends on the reader! As the other commentators found, this is enough to start a complicated discussion! Well, the more I do the discussion, the more do the poem's rich contents add to it. | | Posted on 2009-06-10 00:00:00 | by Glen Bowman | [ Reply to This ] | Something I enjoyed in particular about this piece was the swaggering and the strutting. My school is familiar with those two qualities of life. It's a hassle to get to biology or chemistry in the morning because there is this thick wall of bison swaying back and forth in the 3 person wide hallway. It's quite beautiful how they beseech this synergy chaos, disjointing the world around them, engendering asynergy. They aren't even aware of it anymore - that's how meaningful it's become, truly like a herd of bison rampaging through the savannah like a great locust swarm spreading the blight of death. That is the purpose of life, a violent herd of mindless sheep. It's practically ironic, if not for it being a manifestation of decadence, that the youth of tomorrow is clogging the damn hallway. But, besides that, this made me think of a movie. I forgot what the name was, but it was about a vicious feminine friendship of manipulation and black mail, surrounding a young boy's relationship with his teacher. It was all dandy and such because it was english, so the vernacular was different, making it ear candy for me, but also because it speaks of truth. There is no greater embrace of the self than during the span of teenage years, which speaks of the backward logic in society. Why are we habituating them to survival when they instinctively do it themselves? In fact, teenage writing is sporadic and clumsy to our eyes; is it in to the absolute eye? Yet we must teach them to write. | That's all we are though, ain't it? Compulsory "hormonal" whims. Biochemical signals. A stand of reoccurring double heliacs that dictates fate - and we wonder why the hand of God writing fate is such an easy analogy and analogous to facts. Makes it all not seem creative. Yes, I agree. The most present quality at school is the uncontrolled, naive animalistic instincts. Quite a good poem. | Posted on 2008-04-22 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ] | The first stanza is quite misleading to me as reader. I got a surprise after that. I should have paid more attention to the title. this piece is true to the character of a schoolyard melee. It does a better attempt in the portrayal of school kids respecting authority. The last line says it all in that the process of growing up has its contests in establishing the pecking order of peerism. | | Posted on 2007-12-05 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ] | This is the kind of thing that makes me glad I teach second grade and not junior high! I liked your comparison of the kids in the yard to swarms of insects. Pretty clever. If it were mine poem, which it's not, I'd do a little cutting to make the whole thing a little sharper, and hone in on the bugs and the boys. Alos I'd use present tense in the bug part to give more sense of urgency. I'd start with your line 3... | Winged ants leave their nests soar in mating flights. beehives are restless. scouts are out a thousand wings are thrumming The queen emerges and the whole swarm rises like Hiroshima. prickly heat in the schoolyard. Collars stick to grimy necks. Teenage boys glisten with sweat. every pore leaks musth. (musk?) They swagger like bantam cocks, strut their verbal spurs. They strain on like leashed pit bulls, Snarling but half glad to be restrained. The teachers on patrol smell it too. an aimless milling around, madding crowd of students. They keep their distance, this Africanized swarm. the fight commences. The boys close ranks, swirl and press, form a perfect hurricane. dead calm in the eye of the storm Two live out their hormonal destiny. One will soar with the queen. The other will lie bloodied in the dust. The teachers puff smoke to calm the bees Just something to think about. annie | Posted on 2007-12-04 00:00:00 | by annie0888 | [ Reply to This ] | |
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