Test Scoring Machine

Clicking away throughout the day, oblivious to all else.
Living on electricity, consuming paper,
Unconscious and uncaring, yet powerful.
Determining the fate of the students,
Judging not by character, charisma, or efficiency,
But only by one ability.
That most useful and irreplaceable ability
To color in marked areas.
Not artistically or abstractly, or with willful thought.
But exactly, within the borders, and no further
Lest there be dire consequences.
For that machine has much power
And will punish those that dare think
Outside of the bubble it has created.
All hail the test scoring machine!
For it has the power to discern
Between those who are worthy and those that are not.
It is the Great Leader; on its cue we must lay our fate.
When we have finished, and emptied our brains.
And conformed our minds to fit into miniature bubbles.
Then we must wait in great apprehension
To see what the machine has made of our work.
Behold the excitement!
The results have come back!
Ah, what show of emotion there is
When the students gather round'
In fervent and silent pleading.
Those that have not gained its favor
Are faced with despair and a future as garbage men.
Those that do might be prosperous
Yet ever stuck in a rut as creatures of habit.
Never daring to think away from the path.
Ever obedient servants
To that great and mighty test scoring machine.

Feature Poem Four

Working on Saturday

Yippie! It's Friday
And I work tomorrow...
Yet working on Saturdays
Brings me no sorrow.
I still have two days
When I don't have to work.
Being an old-timer
Is definitely a perk.
Sundays and Mondays are
good days to rest.
I come back on Tuesday
Feeling my best.
When Monday is a holiday
I never have dread.
I'm luck enough
to have off on Tuesdays instead.

Renée C Poissant

Inspired by the Feature Poems

There is a line of customers reaching to the door.
I wish I could hide, or curl up on the floor
Yet I have to smile all the more.
I dare not show any chink in my armor
Lest I fall into disfavor.
I must maintain control
and keep track of every dollar.

Feature Poem Three

The wind is blowing
the sky is grey.
The sun above
has gone away.
I feel the rain on my face.
I feel the rain every place.
I love it when the sky is grey.
I love it when the sun is away.
The rain is not gloomy
like people say.
I wish it would rain everyday.

Renée C Poissant