ignorance in education

What is it that gives you the right to think you are better than everyone else?

Is it your exclusive education that is apparently so much more detailed and thorough then mine?

Is it that you wear 'mature' clothing, that despite it's 'creative lacking' is sophisticated and says you mean business?

Maybe it's that you've been here longer, therefore have rights to the school stomping ground.

Or that you earn more money and have a lovely home, compared to my flat share and economic suffering.

Regardless, it gives you no right to look at me with disgust the way you do;

like I'm an embarrassment for simply existing.

It doesn't excuse the way you ignore me in the corridor or the stairs,

yet talk to me when it's convenient for you.

It certainly doesn't give you the right to walk around with your head held high so far above and more important then your colleagues or friends.

I don't let your attitude get to me all the time, but after a year and a half...

you'd thing you could at least pretend to know my name or of equal importance to you.

Your education may have taught you one thing;

ignorance and snobbery -

well done.

It's bound to get you far.

just minutes and hours

the question of time constantly plagues my mind, now more than ever.

the amount of time left and all the things I have to accomplish and see.

the waste of time putting myself through the aggression of school.

the time that it will take to adjust to my life back at home.

how long it will be before I see my London family again.

and of course the time left to earn the money which i need for all of the above.

yet now there is a new aspect that I am left feeling despondent about.

the time left with you, here in London and enjoying this life.

how long we may be apart because we both need to do things for ourselves.

if this time will affect us, for the better or the worse.

you say a certain month, and all will seem too near...

despite your thoughts that it really is so far away.

i try not to worry about anything related to time,

given it really is out of my control.

yet time with you and here is so precious.

will we always have awkward timing in life, or will everything destined just be.

i still feel rattled and nervous,

wishing for something concrete to be put in place.

why is there only one friday in every week...

really is not enough.

so tired and exasperated,

i really do not want to go to school tomorrow.

am i still a child.

non poetic or creative.

bla feelings of a thursday night.

uncharted territory

With your eyes glazed over,

you're a million miles away.

I look at you and wonder,

worry at where you are.

With no sure ways or signs to tell,

I have no choice but to be patient.

If you want me to know you'll tell...

I've never been one to invade private space.

I remind you gently that I'm here if you want,

and not to spend too much time in your head.

You reassure me that we're ok with a kiss and a comforting wing...

enough for me right now.

The light goes off and you slightly let the guard down;

offering just a few words.

I can't help and evidently have no idea what to say.

So I simply offer the same reassurance that you gave me.

Uncharted land.

New territory for both.

Slow and together... we'll figure it out.

a sunday afternoon

the room is dark and damp, lit only by tiny fairy lights and a bar sign saying 'blues'.

we walk in, unsure of what we have stumbled across.

seemingly quiet and unpopular, we take a drink and sit at the lonely bar.

warm up takes a while and the antiquated compare appears to know something about the old joint.

time passes slowly, and the bar beings to fill.

an extensive list of locals and new comers starts compiling and before you know it,

we can't move to get a drink.

the 'jam time' starts and feet start tapping,

hands keep the beat and mouths are filling in the gaps.

this room full of 'musos' and mates soon to be have something in common.

addicted to the feel of the instrument... of the crowds applause,

of the passion that unites cultures and people of all ages

the blues bar on a sunday jam session...

a unique feeling and nothing quite like it.

hooked

with droopy eyes and a lopsided smile, he returns to his loyal friend.

it's been hours of entertainment - yet he remains as engaged as ever.

his hands move swiftly,

eyes darting back and fourth... ignoring his name called by anyone.

breaking only for emergencies, he is hooked in the cyber world he has created.

despite the requests of school work and lessons,

friends and a social life...

he has no interest in a regular routine.

day in day out,

he feels compelled to participate in the game of cyber life...

always trying to outdo his previous score.

the droopy eyes start to close and the smile now sinister...

obsessed with world inside his own.

a tiny box with corners

At times I feel confined, trapped in a small box.

With a title and a place, a name and a responsibility...

my path and routine seems preordained.

Sure, there are the moments of sporadic diversions;

where I mix it up a bit.

But the immanent return to normality is always around the corner.

Returning to London now after a random countryside excursion,

the foreboding sense of dread creeps in again.

The obligation to work and return to 'housely' duties...

cleaning, cooking and washing etc

It clouds and angers the calmness I just had.

As empty fields are replace by congested roads,

quaint cottages by housing estates and fresh air by cluttered smog,

I feel claustrophobic again.

I want to be freed from the restraints.

Driving in any direction.... determined only by the look or by an obscure sign.

Tied down by no time restraints; rather just the want to move on.

Roaming and exploring a place of nil or much significance... simply because I can.

The freedom of simply being away form the obligation -

the certainty of my daily routine.

I crave for the right to slow down... to stop and enjoy.

To be at peace with my own pace and skin.