i will remember you
Aug. 31st, 2009 10:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
okiekookiedark blue tables scraped with faded pencil marks,
and trails of scattered eraser dusts, filled
with lingering scents of assignments and
snapshots of crackpots, remind us of
the metre-long rulers in which equations
of past and present congregate together
in crumpled sheets of matter and metaphors.
the creaky projected coughs up yet another
scene of scratched brown paintings - to each stroke
of a different scene; a different happening. Where
in every backdrop displayed clouds of laughter and
unmistakable enjoyment etched in every sole of
pattering footsteps across the concrete tiles.
your crisp suits were of a daily routined sight, where
every new day was another lap into reaching those
dreams that were driven by your pep talks and
endless paces of encouragement. Still, even though
we resented conformity, as we were like eager birds,
ready for flight to see the world - yet too immature -
we were accepting into your assigned tasks and
dedicated teachings that paved murals of captured
smiles lingering in frozen time, not ready to take flight.
and so, as we encircle this time capsule of unforgettable
waves of nostalgia, we recall: the stress, the fury, and the
brilliant streams of laughter - to each was labelled to an event;
a period of repeated time. And even though in every
moment it possesses a time lapse, the correction taped strings
that we had long ago tied to your chair, in hope of enacting
the prank, still remains firmly intact; unmovable, unbreakable pillars
of stones, statues and flowerpots.
but for now, as we indulge in the calamity of words and
polaroids of the past, the thoughts that string together in each
of our minds are harmonized, as we each repeat that certain
chant: that I, I will remember you, and all of the things that we've
gone through. For there is so much I can say but words
get in the way so when we're not together, I will
remember you.
So when we're not together, we, as one (not two, not three) class,
will remember you.
thank you, thank you
and trails of scattered eraser dusts, filled
with lingering scents of assignments and
snapshots of crackpots, remind us of
the metre-long rulers in which equations
of past and present congregate together
in crumpled sheets of matter and metaphors.
the creaky projected coughs up yet another
scene of scratched brown paintings - to each stroke
of a different scene; a different happening. Where
in every backdrop displayed clouds of laughter and
unmistakable enjoyment etched in every sole of
pattering footsteps across the concrete tiles.
your crisp suits were of a daily routined sight, where
every new day was another lap into reaching those
dreams that were driven by your pep talks and
endless paces of encouragement. Still, even though
we resented conformity, as we were like eager birds,
ready for flight to see the world - yet too immature -
we were accepting into your assigned tasks and
dedicated teachings that paved murals of captured
smiles lingering in frozen time, not ready to take flight.
and so, as we encircle this time capsule of unforgettable
waves of nostalgia, we recall: the stress, the fury, and the
brilliant streams of laughter - to each was labelled to an event;
a period of repeated time. And even though in every
moment it possesses a time lapse, the correction taped strings
that we had long ago tied to your chair, in hope of enacting
the prank, still remains firmly intact; unmovable, unbreakable pillars
of stones, statues and flowerpots.
but for now, as we indulge in the calamity of words and
polaroids of the past, the thoughts that string together in each
of our minds are harmonized, as we each repeat that certain
chant: that I, I will remember you, and all of the things that we've
gone through. For there is so much I can say but words
get in the way so when we're not together, I will
remember you.
So when we're not together, we, as one (not two, not three) class,
will remember you.
thank you, thank you
sixgee07 - teachers' day meet-up 2009;
forever and always stashed away into our personal crackpots.
forever and always stashed away into our personal crackpots.
