I hope all is well with you! The stresses and chaos hasn’t really settled down, so I’m on the verge of exploding. That probably explains the tone of this poem, but I’ll suffer through this. It’s what I like to call, being a student.
There’s a quiet rumble in the back.
An irritating one, if you want the specifics.
You wonder what they’re even talking about,
what they hell they’re muttering about, even though
it’s in a language we can’t understand,
it’s in a sound that we cannot bear to stand
in a classroom.
Last week, I told them to shut up
in a hiss as fierce as I could muster
“Can you stop talking? I can’t hear.”
And they would continue sneaking their conversations
between my glares as if I couldn’t understand
when I perfectly can.
Meanwhile, I’m getting more irritated
while they’re carrying away the conversation as if they’re at home.
And I wanted to shout to the class and professor,
“These shitheads won’t shut their pie holes, can you kick them out?”
I couldn’t say such a thing.
I don’t know their stories
or why they chose to irritate my ears.
So, I sit and continue to seethe
until the day finally passes me by.
Yes, I wrote this in class and yes, it’s inspired by real life events. I’m pretty confident that whoever I’m mentioning in this poem won’t find my blog, but if they do, I hope they get the message.
I have quite a few pet peeves. For example, I hate it when people scrape their forks/spoons across their plates since it makes an awful sound like nails on a chalkboard. I also hate it when my hair tickles my neck when I’m trying to sleep. Yet, one of my main pet peeves is when people talk to themselves in class or at a movie, a location where it’s inappropriate to have your own conversation.
[Alice rant begin]
In my class, two people who thought they were getting away with having a conversation in the back, irritated me to no end. I’m trying to hear my professor, but they wouldn’t shut up, so I told them off. The next week, I sat a little closer to the front, but I could still hear them. Do they even want to do well? From what I understood, all they did was complain. I honestly, don’t understand why they dedicated 80 minutes chatting about who knows what. It’s fine if you mention something to someone briefly, but not for 80 minutes, damn.
[Alice rant end]
I wrote this poem to control my temper. It’s more of a narrative poem since it tells a small story. I definitely romanticized it to the sense that I made it a little more nasty, although is true. In the third stanza, I put some Chinese characters to put some personality and background into the two people. “你做功课吗?” (Nǐ zuò gōngkè ma?) means “Have you done your homework yet? ” I wanted to give some sense of contrast with the two languages and how they purposely set themselves apart despite it being their culture and mother-tongue.
I guess the moral of this poem would be to not be that shithead in the back and if you ever encounter those kinds of people, don’t let them get the best from you. They aren’t worth your time.
Hope you have a good day!