A Student's Celebration by Natasha Large

 

A Student's Celebration by Natasha Large

 

(Undergraduate Student reading International Relations)

 

I meant to write a short story of some sort, but I got so distracted by rhyming that it quickly turned into a poem. Perhaps that’s a bit too simplistic a view of poetry, but I enjoyed writing this and I feel like that’s what’s most important. I figured that if I was going to be writing about celebration, if I didn’t enjoy what I was doing then I had probably missed the point of the theme. In between my studies, analysing political philosophy and the structure of Islamic State, writing this poem was a hugely welcomed creative break. As I was editing it I wondered if my style choice was trivialising some of the topics I allude to. This might be true, but considering that I should porbably be more focussed on academics in my final year at university, I find it quite fitting, helpful even, to trivialise my other worries with poetry.
 
Most of all, I hope you enjoy reading it even a fraction of the amount I did writing it.

 

 

A Student’s Celebration

 

Celebration, celebration.

You don’t drink in moderation,

You jump in that recreation,

Just don’t lose your reputation.

Be a mass of ostentation,                                                                                              

Move around with syncopation,

It’s a form of relaxation

For the student’s restoration.

 

Do I want an exploration

In a den of procreation?

To a hole of infestation

Where you dance till suffocation?

I don’t have that toleration.

It’s just not my inclination.

So I give a misdirection,

To remain in isolation.

 

What’s your form of convocation?

Some substance inhalation?

Some alternate medication,

Or perhaps an adaptation?

A journey in dissipation?

Or a little propagation

To increase the population?

Do you feel that titillation?

 

For me, just a cancellation

Is the better situation.

I don’t need your validation

From a club of excitation.

I don’t want the obligation

Of a human duplication.

I simply lack fascination

With that type of celebration.

 

But I’m not in desolation.

No I don’t have desperation.

See I don’t need integration

To that student jubilation.

For, in my own estimation,

Your excessive dehydration

And your next day’s hibernation,

Is a place of trepidation.

 

And I delay activation

Of that happy exaltation,

Because that job application

Was returned with condemnation.

Will I get an allocation

To a banking corporation?

Do I want an embarkation

Into money exploitation?

 

Or should I have veneration

For talents in litigation?

Reaching for that approbation

From my workplace congregation?

Could it lead to compensation?

Or unhappy resignation?

It could end in acclamation,

Or an unfair termination.

 

When is my next celebration?

The end of the dissertation?

Do I wait for graduation?

That official declaration

Of my complete education

And my move to occupation?

Will it be a transformation?

Or a return to home station?

 

Do you see my consternation

Over early adulation?

I haven’t hit maturation,

I lack adult navigation

And an office motivation.

And so hence my hesitation,

My absence of inspiration,

For my final commendation.

 

But this is all contemplation,

And I’ve moved off celebration.

Sorry for my deviation.

Though I kept my intonation,

We have suffered escalation

Through my worry illustration.

And so back to elevation,

Let’s consider a sensation.

 

I’m part of a generation

That has an infatuation

With a social automation.

See, I mean a gravitation

Toward a communication

Of the online variation.

A simply false affirmation

Of our friendship cultivation.

 

See it’s just an imitation

Of a true association.

And I feel such aggravation

At affection computation.

But again a deportation

From the central conversation.

It was about celebration,

Remember that proclamation?

 

Perhaps you have irritation

That this lacks some innovation,

Due to rhyming limitation

And the theme specification.

And what of the destination

Of this whole word combination?

Except first an explanation

Of my choice of incantation.

 

For I feel great liberation

Through rhythm articulation.

It creates a modulation

Which I hold with admiration.

And perhaps, with agitation,

You just see a fabrication

To make a rhyming creation.

Well, that is a false thought…ation.

 

I understand this narration

Is simple manipulation

And a crude appreciation

For skilful versification.

So you may see emulation,

Or maybe appropriation,

But it is my own expression,

And for my gratification.

 

And so now the culmination,

Of this poem formulation.

A return to celebration

I swear, no more alteration.

I now have a concentration

On the theme of celebration.

The final verse designation

Will explain my cogitation.

 

In my mind, my adoration,

My true solemn consecration,

Is just an art compilation,

Such as story augmentation,

Or this kind of collocation.

Yes, for me a demonstration

Of my hopeful aspiration,

That, this, is my celebration.

 

Reproduced with kind permission of Natasha Large

Copyright ©Natasha Large