The book snapped shut.
With a quiet sigh the librarian lifted the board, slipping through the entryway and lowering it gently as she crossed to the other side. From across the main room the student was packing his things, papers previously dropped to the floor being reorganized and pens being slipped into their pockets. She reached his table just as he slung the backpack’s straps over his shoulders, and with silent gratitude he passed her the worn textbook.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” she called after him as she headed for her own packed bag.
A nod was her answer as the door swung shut behind him.
Pouring over ancient manuscripts and compendiums of analysis from different periods, each contradicting their father’s generation’s conclusions, I looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then I wrote, “lol” in the margins of a 17th C copy of Canterbury Tales.
ml
Where is that bookmark? Where did I highlight the damnable thing? Of course I know the ends and outs
Studying helps when you have a big test coming up. Many people think they can pass without studying. Maybe that is true for some, but for most studying will help them get the best grade they can. So, if you have to study, then please study. Party afterward, when your test is over.
I felt like falling asleep in my chair at that moment but I had to finish. I have a test tomorrow and if I don’t get an A, I will not get to go to Norway.
angel
Studying can be boring for some people, but I actually kind of enjoy learning about something new.
charity
I don’t like to study and I hater school and school is studying so…
ian
Uninterrupted focus. What a concept. Anything is possible if you find the perfect furtive corner of the library. Should this corner be free of students in search of a place to screw, it could be prime studying conditions if you have the wherewithal.
Deb knew that she should be studying, but the news program drew her attention. Her father was sitting in the big chair in front of the television, and he had dozed off with the paper in his lap. The announcer on the TV was talking about the current flare up of tensions between Earth and Mars. She sat down, wondering whether spending all her time in the books was worth it.
She bent back over her book. “Do you mind? I have to get this done.”
She heard him pull the chair across from her from the table and when she looked up he had settled himself across from her, with an innocent smile across his face. She didn’t give him the benefit of an eye roll and went back to her book.
“Let’s talk.”
Everything is so predetermined. Almost all of the years you should spend exploring everything the world can offer, you spend in memorizing things you never remember three days after. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but I know it can be pretty destructive.
I’m studying him. He wears a dark green hat to keep the sun off his head and out of his eyes. He’s as short as I am. Had I met him twenty years ago, I would have been three inches taller and I wouldn’t have been drawn to him. Now whales are breeching beside the ship and I stop studying him. I study them. I am drawn to them too. Who will I know better at the end of the day. Him or them? I think it’s a silly question. When I get off this ship, I’m going shopping.
Joanna Bressler
Studeren is voor velen een uitdaging. Vraag aan een ieder wat je eronder verstaat en je krijgt duizenden antwoorden. iedereen leert altijd, iedereen ontwikkelt zich. Heb je juist gekozen op hje studiepad? Dat is voor vele leerlingen de vraag. Zij stoppen snel en zijn teleurgesteld. gelukkig kiezen velen nu wel goed.
Remco van Vliet
Studying is a strange thing. On one hand, you’ll get smarter, on the other hand, most people don’t like it.
Joana
studying the crinkle cut corners of your weary eyes
wondering how many late nights of coffee and netflix breaks
you have put your poor soul through
staying up late to make good grades and make something of yourself
but it doesnt quite work that way
youre tired
your brow furrows
and i forgot everything thatll be on that test tomorrow
luna sol
I keep looking. A sort of eloquent staring inside. Rearranging pictures in my head, a puzzle made of memories; made of moments only unwound inside the imagination. I connect the words like dots and step back to assess the bigger picture. I need a distraction, I need something more substantial than this daydream.
A world of darkness when not raised with it right at a young age.
Can cause anxiety
Can be helpful when approached appropriately
Depending on the person it can be good or bad
Some people despise its existence.
Deanna Whetung
she spent her whole life studying.
studying the world. his eyes. her hands. those gentle, but careful movements people had when they were sad. just a little more.
she was more observant than most, and she held quiet secrets.
cally d.
im so tired
the road never
the further i walk
the longer the road get
When will finally be able to stop and ground myself
Anima
forever the student
life has so much to teach us
in each moment a lesson
knowledge, a grain of truth
treasures that can make us wealthy
beyond our greatest imagination
only found though through conscious studying
poetwarrior
education is
STUDYING, learning, using
not mere credentials
Most, call it useless,
so no coincidence are
also most foolish
don’t stop studying,
knowledge is valuable
purposes ample
! Haiku-man ! !jgb!
Studying. If I could go back and talk to my younger self, I would definitely tell myself to actually spend time on studying. It sucks, sure, but in the long run it will pay off in a way much better than the time invested originally. I had my chance at higher education and ended up with a degree that I didn’t want, because I was lazy.
Alex
Three women were studying geometry at the rundown local library. Two of them got bored and went out for a smoke, their heels clicking against both carpet and asphalt. The third woman finished her reading, closed the book, and sighed. She stretched, and both her spine and the tome’s spine crackled in the silent space. She thought about texting her girlfriend. Ramen and a movie sounded great after this sh**show of a study sessions.
Belinda Roddie
Ironic this word came up because this is what I’m suppose to be doing. Although it’s getting harder and harder to do. Motivation is at an all time low and it’s not feeling very important anymore. I’m watching the grades drop but I don’t really care. Fuck studying, it’s such a killer
Rachel
The smell of coffee fills my senses – is it burnt, or perfectly roasted? To be honest, I haven’t put the time into developing a refined sense of taste necessary to differentiate the two, or even really care. Grown from soil fed by generations of ashes from burnt Blueberry crops, grown next to allspice to give it a zing – it’s all just bitter to me: but the other side of the table, I bet they know.
A strained eyebrow meets every sip, analyzing every subtle undertone and implication with a surgical precision that take the wind from the words that leave my mouth, dribbling down from my lips into a pile at my feet. Gobbling them up is helpless. Pride is the weight by which they succumb to gravity, their passion is the heat that pushes the air up from beneath them. One by one I pick them up, and over time I watch them float to the other side of the table.
A thousand or so words later, I take my first sip of coffee. A subtle sweetness fills my senses and a wave of warmth travels through my chest, yet there is no sugar, and the coffee has long since gone cold. They must have given me that, too.
The book was held up against Emily’s face and she hunkered down behind it, giving the illusion of studying ferociously. As soon as her Chemistry professor picked himself up, stretching and yawning like a great big bear, and meandered out of the library and down the hallway, she sprung up, like a caged animal and raced out of the library, and out an obscure back door. Rodney, James, and Lilja, other thrill-seeking college students just like her, were already waiting for her, and Amber was in the driver’s seat, the engine of her bright blue jeep rumbling impatiently. As soon as they saw her, Rodney waved and he and James jumped in the back seat. Lilja gave her a hug before climbing up on top of the jeep, while Emily sat in the passenger’s seat by Amber.
“What took you so long?” Amber asked.
Emily shrugged, the excitement of the evening beginning to intrude upon her. She looked at the bright neon lights that marred the deep blue twilight. She watched the strident colors blur as the jeep picked up speed and drove away from the college campus. She and her friends were living the life of lotus-eaters, dreamers, fantasists, indifferent to the stark reality of the world. They were party people and wild animals with a primordial lust for adventure and disobedience.
A book is open, but that not what I’m learning today. I am learning how to laugh again, how look beyond the face value words for deeper meaning- because finally, there is one. I have learned how to use my precious resource of self-control, and enjoy the journey of spontaneity that results from this reallocation – and a good dose of procrastination. I become an expert in memorization; pictures and videos on repeat until I have extracted every last detail.
I have put too much time, too much stock in mystic realism, in blurred lines between the mind and reality; my palms are warm, but I look down and they are empty. Some stories belong on the shelf and are better untold. Some are better not written. There is one in front of me, but a timer has cried out before I sat down, so it sits on the table, open and unread.
i’m studying the bond
between the body and the spirit
it’s a first hand experience
to recognize the terror
the widening of the eyes
adrenaline fevers
lullaby cleavers
unsheathed in the night
can you feel the sliver
A glint of quivering light
The book snapped shut.
With a quiet sigh the librarian lifted the board, slipping through the entryway and lowering it gently as she crossed to the other side. From across the main room the student was packing his things, papers previously dropped to the floor being reorganized and pens being slipped into their pockets. She reached his table just as he slung the backpack’s straps over his shoulders, and with silent gratitude he passed her the worn textbook.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” she called after him as she headed for her own packed bag.
A nod was her answer as the door swung shut behind him.
Pouring over ancient manuscripts and compendiums of analysis from different periods, each contradicting their father’s generation’s conclusions, I looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then I wrote, “lol” in the margins of a 17th C copy of Canterbury Tales.
Where is that bookmark? Where did I highlight the damnable thing? Of course I know the ends and outs
Studying helps when you have a big test coming up. Many people think they can pass without studying. Maybe that is true for some, but for most studying will help them get the best grade they can. So, if you have to study, then please study. Party afterward, when your test is over.
I felt like falling asleep in my chair at that moment but I had to finish. I have a test tomorrow and if I don’t get an A, I will not get to go to Norway.
Studying can be boring for some people, but I actually kind of enjoy learning about something new.
I don’t like to study and I hater school and school is studying so…
Uninterrupted focus. What a concept. Anything is possible if you find the perfect furtive corner of the library. Should this corner be free of students in search of a place to screw, it could be prime studying conditions if you have the wherewithal.
Deb knew that she should be studying, but the news program drew her attention. Her father was sitting in the big chair in front of the television, and he had dozed off with the paper in his lap. The announcer on the TV was talking about the current flare up of tensions between Earth and Mars. She sat down, wondering whether spending all her time in the books was worth it.
She bent back over her book. “Do you mind? I have to get this done.”
She heard him pull the chair across from her from the table and when she looked up he had settled himself across from her, with an innocent smile across his face. She didn’t give him the benefit of an eye roll and went back to her book.
“Let’s talk.”
I studied until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My exams were tomorrow and I seriously had to study, or else I would fail.
Everything is so predetermined. Almost all of the years you should spend exploring everything the world can offer, you spend in memorizing things you never remember three days after. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but I know it can be pretty destructive.
I’m studying him. He wears a dark green hat to keep the sun off his head and out of his eyes. He’s as short as I am. Had I met him twenty years ago, I would have been three inches taller and I wouldn’t have been drawn to him. Now whales are breeching beside the ship and I stop studying him. I study them. I am drawn to them too. Who will I know better at the end of the day. Him or them? I think it’s a silly question. When I get off this ship, I’m going shopping.
Studeren is voor velen een uitdaging. Vraag aan een ieder wat je eronder verstaat en je krijgt duizenden antwoorden. iedereen leert altijd, iedereen ontwikkelt zich. Heb je juist gekozen op hje studiepad? Dat is voor vele leerlingen de vraag. Zij stoppen snel en zijn teleurgesteld. gelukkig kiezen velen nu wel goed.
Studying is a strange thing. On one hand, you’ll get smarter, on the other hand, most people don’t like it.
studying the crinkle cut corners of your weary eyes
wondering how many late nights of coffee and netflix breaks
you have put your poor soul through
staying up late to make good grades and make something of yourself
but it doesnt quite work that way
youre tired
your brow furrows
and i forgot everything thatll be on that test tomorrow
I keep looking. A sort of eloquent staring inside. Rearranging pictures in my head, a puzzle made of memories; made of moments only unwound inside the imagination. I connect the words like dots and step back to assess the bigger picture. I need a distraction, I need something more substantial than this daydream.
A world of darkness when not raised with it right at a young age.
Can cause anxiety
Can be helpful when approached appropriately
Depending on the person it can be good or bad
Some people despise its existence.
she spent her whole life studying.
studying the world. his eyes. her hands. those gentle, but careful movements people had when they were sad. just a little more.
she was more observant than most, and she held quiet secrets.
im so tired
the road never
the further i walk
the longer the road get
When will finally be able to stop and ground myself
forever the student
life has so much to teach us
in each moment a lesson
knowledge, a grain of truth
treasures that can make us wealthy
beyond our greatest imagination
only found though through conscious studying
education is
STUDYING, learning, using
not mere credentials
Most, call it useless,
so no coincidence are
also most foolish
don’t stop studying,
knowledge is valuable
purposes ample
Studying. If I could go back and talk to my younger self, I would definitely tell myself to actually spend time on studying. It sucks, sure, but in the long run it will pay off in a way much better than the time invested originally. I had my chance at higher education and ended up with a degree that I didn’t want, because I was lazy.
Three women were studying geometry at the rundown local library. Two of them got bored and went out for a smoke, their heels clicking against both carpet and asphalt. The third woman finished her reading, closed the book, and sighed. She stretched, and both her spine and the tome’s spine crackled in the silent space. She thought about texting her girlfriend. Ramen and a movie sounded great after this sh**show of a study sessions.
Ironic this word came up because this is what I’m suppose to be doing. Although it’s getting harder and harder to do. Motivation is at an all time low and it’s not feeling very important anymore. I’m watching the grades drop but I don’t really care. Fuck studying, it’s such a killer
The smell of coffee fills my senses – is it burnt, or perfectly roasted? To be honest, I haven’t put the time into developing a refined sense of taste necessary to differentiate the two, or even really care. Grown from soil fed by generations of ashes from burnt Blueberry crops, grown next to allspice to give it a zing – it’s all just bitter to me: but the other side of the table, I bet they know.
A strained eyebrow meets every sip, analyzing every subtle undertone and implication with a surgical precision that take the wind from the words that leave my mouth, dribbling down from my lips into a pile at my feet. Gobbling them up is helpless. Pride is the weight by which they succumb to gravity, their passion is the heat that pushes the air up from beneath them. One by one I pick them up, and over time I watch them float to the other side of the table.
A thousand or so words later, I take my first sip of coffee. A subtle sweetness fills my senses and a wave of warmth travels through my chest, yet there is no sugar, and the coffee has long since gone cold. They must have given me that, too.
The book was held up against Emily’s face and she hunkered down behind it, giving the illusion of studying ferociously. As soon as her Chemistry professor picked himself up, stretching and yawning like a great big bear, and meandered out of the library and down the hallway, she sprung up, like a caged animal and raced out of the library, and out an obscure back door. Rodney, James, and Lilja, other thrill-seeking college students just like her, were already waiting for her, and Amber was in the driver’s seat, the engine of her bright blue jeep rumbling impatiently. As soon as they saw her, Rodney waved and he and James jumped in the back seat. Lilja gave her a hug before climbing up on top of the jeep, while Emily sat in the passenger’s seat by Amber.
“What took you so long?” Amber asked.
Emily shrugged, the excitement of the evening beginning to intrude upon her. She looked at the bright neon lights that marred the deep blue twilight. She watched the strident colors blur as the jeep picked up speed and drove away from the college campus. She and her friends were living the life of lotus-eaters, dreamers, fantasists, indifferent to the stark reality of the world. They were party people and wild animals with a primordial lust for adventure and disobedience.
A book is open, but that not what I’m learning today. I am learning how to laugh again, how look beyond the face value words for deeper meaning- because finally, there is one. I have learned how to use my precious resource of self-control, and enjoy the journey of spontaneity that results from this reallocation – and a good dose of procrastination. I become an expert in memorization; pictures and videos on repeat until I have extracted every last detail.
I have put too much time, too much stock in mystic realism, in blurred lines between the mind and reality; my palms are warm, but I look down and they are empty. Some stories belong on the shelf and are better untold. Some are better not written. There is one in front of me, but a timer has cried out before I sat down, so it sits on the table, open and unread.
i’m studying the bond
between the body and the spirit
it’s a first hand experience
to recognize the terror
the widening of the eyes
adrenaline fevers
lullaby cleavers
unsheathed in the night
can you feel the sliver
A glint of quivering light