a rant poem.

a poem without a title


i promised you a poem before i left behind

your ramshackle ram rajya


you, the flesh-eating dakini

devouring on demented cerebrums.


for four fucking years, i walked into you

and your crumbling campus, carrying


a backpack full of tattered & torn

dreams—now my body reeks of you,


and i sound like your ancient heads hewed 

from termite-eaten oaks of marxism 


& megalomania. your voice keeps 

burrowing into my marrow, my soul, 


feasting & frolicking on my being.

o my alma fucking mater of mediocrity—


why does your education stink of dog shit?

why do your syllabi reek of sadistic pleasure?


for four long years, i knelt down, helpless,

a plastic smile plastered on my freckled face.


for four unending years, i carried my broken

soul cast in plaster bandage of apprehension.


now i stand at your gate, with the begging

bowl of a diploma, empty—and with no-


thing but a slag of bitter experiences, emerging,

tossing & tumbling out of the leftover me.

Poetry by bibek adhikari The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2020-07-29 at 15:43

Tags University  Experience  Anger 

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Thomas D The PoetBay support member heart!
You rant with the best of them, sir! Excellent ending, especially.

Liam The PoetBay support member heart!
I enjoyed the reading of this piece and I could almost feel your despair for an education system that has perhaps somehow faulted.

Thanks for sharing, (or ranting) :-)

F.i.in.e Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
hehehe... I hope you won't mind me saying what first came to mind when I read this :) I noticed the unusual use of profanity (not a problem), but the rest of this is surrounded by classy language just the same. The contrast caught me. I love it :)

But on the rant... completely felt it. I think it's time to rethink this model of telling our kids to go to university for a better placement in society to be able to take care of themselves in this life. It's clearly not working with an astounding amount of people who find themselves in the same situation you describe here.

As for the L9-L14... hm, what's that saying again? Our own harshest critic? :p Sorry you're going through this, hope things get better.

I felt angry with my university when i finished it.Your poem reminded me of my young years.Strong work.Loved the oaks of marxism.