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Education On Writing And Words Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Education

These Education On Writing And Words poems are examples of On Writing And Words poems about Education. These are the best examples of Education On Writing And Words poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Attention: WORD NERDS--------- The Eight Parts of Speech

---------------------- "Word Nerds" (like me)...
************Please Have Fun & Read VERY Closely:)***********


now and again
a word 
sneakily obscure
approaches the fog in me
screams its name 
suddenly 
apropos adverbs appear
clearly 
startling 
perplexing 
precarious adjectives
slick little nouns
caught hiding 
beyond babbling brooks
sent to exile
defiling crooks
"pro"fessional nouns
jailed
beneath eight parts of speech
preposition'ed 
pre'fixed subjects
elusive predicates
slithering suffix'ation
turn-ing key
delicately 
through holes
freeing vocabulary
trapped 
within prison walls
synonyms 
pen bars 
filled in the past 
participles
plagued 
like Job's tedious job 
of siphoning
deciphering 
homographs from heteronyms 

words never mind...
 
they wind the mind
gliding 
in the wind...





Details | Rhyme | |

The Man in the Wilderness

Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam

Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind

I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be

For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home

So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php


Details | Free verse | |

Grand Canyon

Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.


Details | Haiku | |

It is now

Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust 
for things start to be.


Details | Rhyme | |

Reading/Knowledge is Power

Page after page
My nose in a book
I read intently
As the words
Form pictures 
In my mind
What power.
With one look.

Imagination runs wild,
There is nothing 
Like the thrill,
The ride,
 thoughts race
Like a roller coaster
Going through 
its paces
Giving you chills.

It’s a rainbow
Of translations,
If you will.
Get on it,
And feel the inclination
To soar 
Until
You’ve had enough.
But is it ever?
Never

You see, 
Once you start
It’s too tough
To get off 
That ride 
That makes 
You smart 
To begin with.
You are filled
With exhilaration
And with pride.

Reading takes you 
to the top,
To the power 
of knowledge!
Knowledge is power,
A roller coaster 
That never stops.


Details | Bio | |

me myself and i

Me myself and i

For I myself, 
Believe in myself.
For I love to stand by the book shelf.
In order to read some nice stuff.

Yoruba is my lineage.
I’m seen by my image.
And am called by my real name.
Buying things, I buy not fake.

I aim to be among the greats.
For one of my saying, says,
“Pays to be popular than being famous’’
Cos, famous people could be no-torious.

People say am pretty shy
That a time, I wish to cry.
Cos, I know I do try
To hide that, am really shy. 

I’m a Muslim,
For my religion is, Islam.
So, pock meat is an haraam.
But I’m free to dine on ram.

I wish to be a doctor 
So that youngsters can see me as a mentor.
I love teaching as a Professor.
For all that are great, are my mentor.

People don’t really know me,
So, this is to tell who I be.
For I prefer being a Lewis’ base,
Than to be a bronsted’s base.

Ridwan is my real name. 
Olyrid is just a nick name.
You better know before it’s too late,
For I involve not in a criminal case.

My advice for you in life is this:
Serve you GOD, when not in pains
For in good health a person fails,
But calling unto him when soaked in pains.

Olyrid4real,
Is my yahoo mail.
I’m dark, friendly and a little tall.
And all I love is winning soul.

For all I hate, is the “big boys” style.
Cos “sagging” is what they like.
For all I do, it’s my own style.
So if you like, you can be my type!


Details | Abecedarian | |

LEXICON OF MY POEMS

A is for audacious, a bold statement made by the foolhardy
B is for boor, an ill-mannered person who’s apology is tardy

C is for curtail, an education cut short, old Alma Mater haunted
D is for dander, ones anger rising at ignorance being flaunted

E is for empirical, experience gained from observation and experiment
F is for flit, from one idea to another fleetingly move, an impediment 

G is for gnomon, the implement on a sundial casting a long shadow  
H is for huddle, a confused mass heaped together into a barrow
 
I is for innate, our inborn and instinctive natural intrinsic being
J is for jar, of facts which are at variance with others we are seeing 

K is for knell, the sound of a bell spelling the extinction, changes it rings
L is for luminous, shedding light on otherwise invisible, obscure things 

M is for mirth, when you can laugh in merriment, finding glee in a situation
N is for nous, the common sense some people lack, being without gumption

O is for obfuscate, to confuse, stupefy and bewilder the mind, factually
P is for proffered, to offer explanations and demonstrate tactfully 

Q is for queue, is a line of people willing to learn new concepts 
R is for reredos, the grid removed from the fire and old precepts  

S is for semantics, the study of words/phrases and their meanings 
T is for tome, the voluminous books studied and digested the dealings

U is for unction, a soothing word causing deep emotions, in a trio 
V is for vim, the vigour of mental strength or energy expressing brio 

W is for woe, is the bitter grief that you feel at the loss of one of a pair
X is for xanthous, it describes the colour of his yellow skin and red hair


Y is for yammer, it explains voluble talk, which includes lament and wail
Z is for zany, the buffoon and the clown’s assistant who will assist us to bail!

FOOTNOTE:
Flitting audaciously to obfuscate semantics and dicing zany bards 
Yammering on about things which jar that we should ideally discard


Details | Quatrain | |

I Remember the Day

I remember the day when comments were the main
They're all very instrumental to the Soup's mainframe
Some comments are influential that created other writes
And many were like tuition that kept us crisp and bright

But there now appears a drought growing larger every day
We need to increase our comments as they help us write our says
Maybe it's time for change, for the Soup to alter it's route
Many foundations have recently left, will others follow suit

The columns showing us the views, tells us nothing at all
How many have clicked on a poem thinking that's a bit of a trawl
So another poem was open and not a word was read
So basically the views are worthless, because comments are our thread

We can learn from our comments but we will never learn from the views
It's our democratic choice for all, of what we do and choose
Nothing stays the same for ever as it appears to be
It's still the worlds best poetry site, that's down to you and me




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-13.php


Details | Free verse | |

I will not be late to work this morning

I will not be late to work today

I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS 
About sound
About war
Republicans
Democrats
Independents

I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of 
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Fence 
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase

I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert 
Ready to begin my lesson

I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment

What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and 
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the 
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles

I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work

I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and 
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving

I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and 
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic

It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything

This poem is over 
the work day begins



Details | Rhyme | |

My Friends in Poetry

Dear Alliteration, 
First friend, foremost;
Forgetting not,
Shy Allegory, 
Dressed in Allusion; 
Sweet Anaphora, 
How I need thee! 
How I need thee!
 
And Assonance; 
Never deep asleep, 
Nor rest Refrained, 
By Caesura; 
Clever Chiasmus; 
Who has pause to write, 
And write to pause; 
Cheeky Consonance, 
Agreeing;
Time needs its tick-tock, 
Rocked at chimes; 
How Didactic, 
An Ictus, 
Ellipsis, 
Is that?
 
Clink — tinkle; 
Cubes in a glass; 
Bourbon mist; 
Hello; 
Onomatopoeia is back, 
From visiting, 
Palindrome, 
At Lake Oxoboxo, 
Madam Eve, 
Our favorite, 
Paradox, 
Not pair a ducks, 
Nor Parataxis, 
She quacked not; 
She waddled not; 
She flew not; 
End stopped; 
Did not, 
Run into Enjambment, 
Iambic, 
Pentameter, 
On foot nearby; 
Rhyme Royal chanting;
Prose babbling, 
Out of line, 
Screaming;
Vers libre!
Vers libre!

Pathos, 
Pity me; 
Scan not,
My prosody;
Bravo!
The coins are tossed;
O my dear friends, 
In poetry, 
Therein lay, 
Our Eulogy, 
Paradise Lost.


Details | Haiku | |

' Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

           Understanding A
       Metaphysical Moment …
       … Nature’s Mysteries



                 This Haiku is for:
       The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))

                        MoonBee


Details | Rhyme | |

Fellow Poets

I age without guilt
Life has treated me well
I have written many poems
So many stories to tell

I'll keep on writing
Till I can type no more
My eyes go blind
My muscles are sore

I live each moment
Be it happy or sad
And I must tell you
There's nothing I've never had

Some want money
Some want fame
I just want the world to remember
Life is not a game

Will I be here tomorrow
Yes, probably so
With that said
I just want you all to know

I enjoy all your poetry
Talent is everywhere
Keep writing forever
Show the world you care



Your poetry friend







Details | Free verse | |

You're The Weak One

YOU’RE THE WEAK ONE


You’re the weak one, you’re a bully.  The weak one is definitely
not me.

The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.

So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.

Your weakness began on your first bullying day.

Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.

I actually feel a little sorry for you.

Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.

Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate. 

Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?

Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect, 
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.

	Al Johnson
 


Details | Concrete | |

Footprints


      oooo O
    (  I left ) 
    ) you  (
     (  my  )
      (note)          O oooo
                            (    on   )
                             )   a    (
                            (white)
                            (page)

  oooo O
(   for   )
) you  (
 (   to  )
 (read)           O oooo
                        (   ere   )
                         )  the  (
                        (waves)
                         (sip it.)

                                         Read…



Details | Light Poetry | |

' A Metaphysical Moment ...'

‘ A  Metaphysical  Moment ’

A Metaphysical Moment
Electrifying To The Touch
Breathless, Thru The Clouds
Can My Heart, Take So Much

… Can My Eyes Endure
All This Vision, I See
Can Voice, Even Speak
Over Roaring of This Sea

… Can Ear Even Listen
When I Am Flying So Free
Soaring, So True With You and
Metaphysical Moment and Me …

A Metaphysical Moment
Will I Ever Understand
This Mystery of Our Universe
The Mystery of Woman and Man …


(And I End This with an Haiku for
The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno and
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))


Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

          Understanding A
      Metaphysical Moment …
      … Nature’s Mysteries


Metaphysical (definition) as an adjective:

Metaphysical of early 17th Century Poetry
Relating to the poetic style of John Donne,
George Herbert and other early 17th Century Poets
Who used consciously intellectual language
And elaborate metaphors that compared things


Details | Bio | |

A Note To the Young Girl On The Other Side Of This World

Hello, Farrah....
It's 7Am here, and cold
Just awoke, with,
Oh, Here We Go Again!
Fever, Pain, Confusion,
And Lots of Other Groovy Things
To Keep My Mind Busy...
Many more people know of you
than a few days ago....
Did you ever hear of Rod Mckuen?
Professional poet/ musician/songwritter-
One of the reasons I love poetry...
Not only will you understand him, you should
enjoy him.....Sorry about your work load....
My French is rusty.....I'm pretty good in geometry though;
received 100% on NYS Regents Exam when young-
an unheard of thing, scores in college of 97-99% for the term's work,
and it seemed easy as pi    (joke- pie, etc....oh, why am I explaining it,
sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.......)  Hope you have a happy day.....write an 
indepth poetic bio??   I'd love it, so would many others....
you are known in literary circles here now, I'd venture to guess....
surprising, the power of words, n'est pas?  Je ne sas pa, rien du tout....pardon 
my spelling and french......it's unused since early 1960's (ancient history)  What 
city are you in?  Ever travel???  A favorite destination???  Any questions about
the enigmatic nature of "Americans?"  We're really well meaning, just sometimes
seems we might misinterpret, or misunderstand things obvious to others (and 
vica versa....) Do you get to see movies???  Need books to read??  I got a library 
of 10,000 books, at least, being handicapped gives me too much time on my 
hands, and my health leaves me precious little of a future to expect.   I have lots 
of funny stories.   I hope you are okay....I never met anyone so brilliant in 57 years 
of living.   Youf friend in poetry, tom."


Details | Free verse | |

Don't Mess With My Friend Jack

Listen up, 
You tyros, 
Don't go messin'
With my buddy Jack
Yeah, Reed,
Indeed...
He's cool people, 
And I like him,
He writes well,
Yeah, this from Tom Bell,
You take him on,
You take on me,
Let me tell you,
Yes-eree
Cut the crap and show
Some class,
Or you might get
A poetic broken a__


Details | Free verse | |

Sweet Sweet Emily

I was born in Amhurst Massachuetts
on Decenber 10  1830 
and had died May 15  1886

My hair is bold like the chestnut burr
and my eyes like the sherry in the glass
that the guest leaves behind

I cannot write about the world without
first backing away from it and then
comtemplating it from a distance

A word is dead when it is said
Some say I say it just begins
To live that day 


Who Am I ?


My Poetess Sweet
Emily Dickinson


Details | Rhyme | |

What is Poetry But Text...

Sensitive ears of nature I have 
found.
Poetry is not the sight of words 
but the sound.

Spoken,sung or played on a guitar...
Human, machine,instrument or nature.
Any of these are cool as long
as they're written down.

A flute playing, a bird singing ,
a car engine starting. 
Someone whipping , chopping,
cooking in the kitchen.

Hear it first, then write it down.
For what is poetry but the text 
of 
the sound that you've found?


Details | Bio | |

Bookworm

I'm the ultimate
bookworm
my mother, God Bless her,
taught me the joy
of reading
of writing
of using thought
for something
a  little more meaningful
than cars, popularity
money or fame
in books
your mind can travel
there are no barriers
for you
each book adds
another flavor
to your being
another star
to your mind's sky
they are things
of beauty
because you share them
the reader and the author
each merged together
somehow their minds
make more than two

so I have spent
a king's ransom
in the years when 
I could afford
to accumulate
these golden treasures
far more rich
than gold or silver

I made the master bedroom
of my current home
a library quite extensive
where my mind can roam
I have so many books
I could not fit them all
but part with one?
never....
for any reason under the sun

I have diaries from the civil war
faded slightly
but still a wonderous mirror
into a time and life
never to return
many other treasures
but books among my best
I could never be
a librarian
little work would
I get done
my eyes would be stuck 
inside my charges
and no one could
withdraw a one.


Details | Lyric | |

I Chose To Be A Poet

When I started my writings I didn’t know that much;
But, as I began to write, I learn to know so much.

Let’s say I knew a thing when I got featured, my poem;
I knew what rhyme is, but my heart has its own anthem.

Writing is not that easy, which made it hard to meet
All the poetic forms, if I always see, but a white sheet.

Yet, I knew that if I will try, I will lose nothing; I tried.
So I wrote this very short poem, a senryu thing: a bride.

That you took joy reading it, making me smile and proud;
The way I see myself now, I’m a poet, with a voice: loud.

If I chose to be a poet, sure I wouldn’t be in a losing end;
For a poet never lose, but certainly, wins a heart. A trend.

At least now, I know how and what to write. I learned.
I’ll be writing sonnet today, for yesterday it was tyburn.

You see, I learned a lot, through the help of my God;
And you, my love, His blessing to me when I was sad.




Details | I do not know? | |

Brainwaves (2005)

Brainwaves- not just an invented excuse
These ideas are born for a use
When I sleep arbitrary thoughts sing
Like in a cartoon, I see a light bulb and hear a ‘ting’
Thoughts pour like they do now
No explanation, they just appear somehow
Your probably thinking this is taking me ages to write
As I speak my words strike
Its not even a minute and my brainwaves materialise 
The whole world is waiting to realise
Brainwaves come to those who are gifted somehow
They are happening right now


Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


Details | Verse | |

My Words

Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words, 
and not necessarily my reality;                                     
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing

You can be who you want to be on any level 
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;  
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys,                                                                        or places that some don’t even think exist

They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry 
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart 
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses  whether they are just cases, 
or me in the absolute right here

My words exude positive intentions; 
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections 
and reversed dejection  
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul 
and temptations

Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before         
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect 
according to divine order

They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time 
because up until now, 
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time 
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside – 
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice 
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Blank Verse Rhyme

Blank Verse Rhyme

The master said “create blank verse in lines of ten”.
Form five Iambic feet without a rhyme.
“These five Iambic feet you must achieve”.
The verse will have a rhythm you can hear,
when studied closely this will be revealed.

For, lines of blank verse rhyming discontents
the master. “Do it over, take all night”!
The lines of blank verse sing a little song,
each syllable, each rhyme, you’ll hear them ring!
You’ll sing the tune of verses blank and pure.

And now I keep up with this blank verse trick,
I hear its tick ten syllables per line.
It rhymes so soft; I have it mastered now,
so naturally it falls right from my pen.
Oh, where will this blank verse rhyme find an end?

Yet, twenty lines of syllables came out
much faster still than I had thought they should.
I love each rhyme, the timing so precise,
I hope it pleased the eye and ear. I turned
it in, it came back very clearly signed

“Rejected”.


-Tiffany R-2009