Class Senses Poems

Block D:
The dusty chalkboard, a caged zebra held hostage unwillingly by a class of hungry learners.
The superstitious students pausing momentarily to watch the clicking clock strike 11:12am.
Obnoxious talking like an epic episode of Judge Judy, filled with boisterous banter and deadly debate.
Loud gum chewing, the crack of each bubble, a gunshot throughout the classroom.
Fresh pencil shavings, taunting the cranky custodian to get out his wooden broom.
Poisonous perfume, infecting the air like a deadly virus.
The dirty, dry air, grasping violently at my throat like a crazed criminal.
The bitter cold; the class a lone igloo on a desolate northern beach.
The smooth paper between my fat fingers, calling me to tell it a secret.
I am as welcome as a newborn puppy to its mother.

Block C:




Shiny, silver screen like a blank canvas waiting patiently to be painted.
Skyline of people’s heads, a distraction from the story waiting anxiously to be told.
Pesty people talking; rudely ruining the cinematic adventure.
Rumbling sound effects, shaking my seat like an earthquake.
Mouth-watering butter, tempting my taste buds to take another bite.
Sweaty people; the theatre is a zoo of different species competing for the prime seat.
Tangy Skittles; a rainbow explosion in my mouth.
Salty popcorn, the kernels jump playfully on my tongue.
Gooey gum on my seat, a restraining order from the other movie-goers.
Someone’s stinky feet on the back of my confining chair; aggravating acupuncture to the soul.
I am as content as a child with a new toy.