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Free Verse Teacher Poems | Free Verse Poems About Teacher

These Free Verse Teacher poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Teacher. These are the best examples of Free Verse Teacher poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Money-God

Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.

Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.

People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.

Godless? 
With or without the words, 
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God, 
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.

The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.

If I had been given the chance, 
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.

When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....

....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.

If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within, 
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.

Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling 
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.

Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.

If I had been given the chance -- past tense....

....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,

until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.







December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S:  28 - 2 = 26




January 7th, 2013




.

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Teacher

O Teacher! My Teacher!
I would dare to channel a master just for you.
I know not if I am up to this lofty task,
but it is to your expectation that I try to rise. 
You never asked for anymore than my best
and I love you for never demanding any less.

O Teacher! My Teacher!
If you had not opened a locked door,
the engulfing rays of enlightenment
may never have caressed my yearning face,
or held me tightly in her awakening embrace
releasing the song desperately trapped in my soul.

O Teacher! My Teacher!
You always said I had a great gift.
If that is true, I heap all praise on you.
You have the most wonderful offering of all
for within you rested the ability to recognize
the potential now flowing freely under my pen.

O Teacher! My Teacher!
I will forever hold you in the highest esteem.
I am not certain if mere words could ever express 
the appreciation I have long held for your guiding hand.
Undaunted by the impossible task now in front of me,
this student will once again try to impress his teacher. 




This piece was inspired and written for Professor Judy Davis who taught at the College of Central Florida until she retired. She was my English Literature and Composition teacher the first time I went to college. Many go into teaching, but the special few, like Judy, are called to the profession. She is now enjoying her retirement, but her old student here still communicates with her occasionally. 

Copyright © Kim Morrison | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

4th Grade Music Room

Under her guidance, we stood at attention
forming a row  for the national anthem
"Oh Say, Can You See?"...those familiar old words
We would sing, not in unison
but with avid enthusiasm
out of tune, out of rhythm
with our childish delusions
that we were quite good!

As we  stood in the room
she would move down the line
with a frown in the lines
of her brow, then would bow
till her ear matched our voice
and her hand would be poised
with two fingers ensued
keeping time with the tune.

She would grit all her teeth
bite the inside of cheeks
Such a serious task!
it was all that she asked
that we please..do our best

When we mastered, at last
She would gasp, then exclaim
as we sang each refrain
Mixed with tears, she would clap

I remember it now...
Here I stand in this row
with my hand on my heart
as the first strain imparts
Yes, I know those old words...
they'll remain part of me
'til the day that I die
"O Say, Can You See?"...still familiar to me

But no..............I can't see....

          There are tears in my eyes...




_________________________________________________
For the Project UFO Contest: Sponsored by Robert Heemstra

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

WEAKNESS

Weakness
 
It is said that he was weak because he would not
conform, could not subjugate his will, would not
let them imprison his mind, cage his spirit.  Weak
because he stood alone and not with the milling
mob.  Weak, because he would not speak the
words they desired to hear.  Weak, because he
smiled when others wept, laughed when others
wailed, stood tall when others bent beneath the
 toil of life.
 
They prayed for him to come to his senses and
become as they.  He, though he didn’t pray as
they, desired the same for them.  He knew that
there was no strength in the coalition of the crowd,
no truth in the mumbling of old truths, no love
in the demands of unconditional love.
 
He appreciated their prayers, they did not so
much appreciate his.  He would listen as the
sound of the choir filtered through the air and
caressed the trees and wonder why the
vibration stopped when the hymn ended,
why the sermon stopped when the preacher’s
voice stopped echoing in the apse.
 
He would sing the song in silence as he walked
the village roads, roll the preacher’s words over
in his mind, smile at soaring hawks and old
barn cats, straighten a fence, remove a stone,
bid good-day to those who thought him weak.
He was not rich nor was he poor, neither wise
nor foolish, he just was.  And so he shared his
weakness with all who thought themselves
strong, his loneliness with the friendless,
his thoughts with those who sought to teach him,
his spirit with those who allowed their spirit to be
caged.
 
It is said that he was weak by those who never
dared to share his weakness.
 
John G. Lawless//10/15/2014
Submitted to Verlena Walker contest
My shortcomings are overwhelming; however, my strengths are defeating them!

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

LIFE IN THE FREAK ZOO

LIFE   IN   THE   FREAK   ZOO

When you meet a deaf guy no one says  - 
Wow, can’t  you hear this  (whistle)?
How about this (bell)?    Or this  (handclap)?
When you meet a blind  girl no one says  -  
Oooh,  can’t   you  see this  (flashlight)?
Or this  (computer screen)?
So why do people enthusiastically  check out my ability 
When they hear  I’m colorblind?
Colorblind ? !   Oh  boy,  ( a freak !) this is exciting….
Can’t  you see green?  Red?  How about yellow?
What color is this sweater?   That ball?
What colour does grass look to you?
What about traffic lights?
How do you watch television?
Feels like I’m in a zoocage.
At school I was always in trouble because 
In my drawings I colored the grass red instead of green.
All the same to me, but the teacher 
Got quite abusive   and angry  because 
In her world grass had to be  green.
And tell me, who ever made it law 
That oceans should be colored blue?
Mine were always purple,  all the same to me. 
Would the teacher have said to a blind kid,
“You little fool, can’t you see the grass?”
Or to  a deaf child, ”Hey stupid, can’t you hear the music?”
Oh it doesn’t really bug me  but
It’s interesting to see people’s behavior 
Towards certain afflictions.

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

To My Super Souper Friends

Alot of you folks have been able to say what you feel this holyday season with exquisite 
wording and beautiful sentiments. I can't do that. Maybe if I tell you a story about a 
little kid who was raised and worked on a farm. A farm boy in a class of city kids is ridiculed 
for some reason and beat up alot cause that proves to city kids that they're strong when 
they beat up a farmer kid. So I did the best I could with my sense of humor, got beat up 
when challenged and avoided other confrontations by learning to run real fast! When they 
picked teams for basketball, I was odd kid out. Too little. I found it hard to fit in anywhere.
    One fine day our 7th grade teacher gave us a homework assignment to write a poem 
which we would read aloud in class the next day.The stipulation was that, on your honor, you 
could have no help whatsoever. A solo project.
   After chores that night, I did as she said and was surprised at how easy it was. The 
next day, when it was my turn, I timidly read aloud to the class the first poem I ever wrote.  
When I finished, I awaited the verdict . All was quiet. The teacher told me to sit down. I did. 
She then admonished me for cheating on my assignment and getting help. Of course I did 
not. I still vividly remember how it felt to have all my peers watching me as our teacher 
dismissed me for a cheater with a look of disdain on her face. I was speechless, devastated 
and embarrassed by what others thought.
   The experience pushed me deeper into myself than I had ever been.. It's amazing to me 
how these feelings are resurfacing en force as I write about it. I've written poetry on and off 
since then but never taken it seriously. It was just some force that reared itself once in a 
while until it was subdued by writing one.
    Now, in the autumn of my life, something very strange and wonderful is happening. I 
have been introduced to you, my poetry soup friends. The injustice done to my poetic soul is 
every day being identified by myself, rectified and healed by your loving support. I'm no 
longer throwing my poems away. You have given me in two months what has been missing 
since the 7th grade. You have given me courage, confidence, encouragement and the 
companionship to take up where I was left off. Because of all of you, I can grow again. I was 
at a stalemate in alot of things and then this. Coincidence? More like Christ incidence. Get it? 
YOU are my Christmas gift from Love come down! This is my card to you.  
 GOD BLESS YOU ALL.- ROBERT

Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Teacher

For Clara Sala (1961-2015)

You introduced me to poetry
And gave me a way to express
Myself     Without drugs
Without drinking
Without cigarettes
Or fighting
Or gang life

All the things
That made me who I was
When I met you
You took out of my hands
By telling me I was a poet
And I'd never be alone.

We would sit
And you would give us
A task to put into words
And I remember feeling lost
And inadequate.

Then you'd read my work
Ask me if I felt I had said what
I needed to say     I'd answer no
And you would say: "Keep going."

I'd leave class hungry for more
Reading and rewriting my work
Over and over and     "Keep going."

So many years later    I find you're gone
But the work you did by saving a lost child...

The next time I see you... I'm going to say:

"Thank you!"

Copyright © Joseph Granda-Padron | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Teacher

Why, why, why? Is all I ask
Do you send these folk my way
They're not the ones I'd choose myself
But I attract within hooray
You must have plans to work me Lord
Have I really gone astray

I try so hard to be polite
You send me those who groan
From trials of life
Crying painful body drones
But I face a war continually Lord
Spine crumbling pained bones

I questioned much over the years
Of those you sent my way
But each one has had effect on me
What will I have learned today
I want to tell of things you've done
And why I've learnt to pray

You sent me counseling to help
Through things wrong in my youth
Then church fellowship did help me through
When marriage went down sluice
A teacher friend taught me much
In assertiveness and truth

You sent me someone kind and true
When I'd thought life was gone
A friend of a friend a neighbors brother
Turned out to be the  one
Who'd bring me home and settle again
Protect me and my two sons

You showed me work where I did learn
The skills to pull me through
In kitchens I did learn to cook
In schools help my children too
The staff within were pillars and rocks
In illness helped me do

You send others now to my house
Now I can't go out all alone
I used to sit and ponder sorry
I couldn't do things on my own
But now I have found new waters
I can swim and write a poem

I help others through my charity support
When I can get to phone
I can help in ways that others cant
And control load with able zone
I listen to those there struggling
Look at positives not moan

So I'm thankful for those folk you sent
Though I don't understand your process
But each time one has helped me to 
Understand and cope it's noticed
So send someone to help I'll pray
And I'll listen as perfect hostess




Author's notes

Okay, so I realize as it stands it needs tweaking, but at the time the pen flowed and now it 
needs some TLC... any ideas welcome, although I do not want to detract from the 
meaning/depth.  Any idea of rhyme was not originally intentional so please forgive I know at 
present its dreadful!! Help please?

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Teacher Dont Teach Me Nonsense

Don't teach me nonsense
Seed my mouth and amplify the need for rare manuscripts 
100 % my degree in exams 
Spelling my conversational law facts 
Teach me more sense 
Release and ease my lazy spirit to tongue twist my images to the right sense 
Teach me less law stress 

Fade away chapters covered in adult pampers
Baby rhythms leaning on group fan fantasies 
Slow mode every click in my tongue twisting slam illusions
Deep kissing my future pictures inspired by scriptures 

Pro Pro Prosecute all free verses escaping jail exams
Pro Pro Professionals don’t live long in prisons premeditated to cage kids
Your lessons will child baby writers
Kids connecting former and future electrified fighters

Their fake ideas were all original 
Teacher don’t teach me nonsense
They spoke so we can speak for all uncaring letters 
Un-curving letters rebuking licences of nonbelievers

Alphabets that endlessly group hug messages in passages 
Words singing bullets pointing to kill silence
Learn to teach lessons with judgments on stillness
Teacher how can i fail your corrections, 
please ease my worries i need protection
I think I am qualified to be a poet though i failed my people 

I wrote exams and failed to finish my languages about punctuality 
Your stop watch gave no sympathetic second chances 
Intelligence is for ever tested but never forgotten in sentences
Your judgments are too hash for our passion 

Teacher don’t teach us your accent
Your language is connected to those ancestors wearing mini skirts 
How can i judge with no law degree? 
Teacher don’t teach me nonsense
Seed my mouth and amplify the need for fresh manuscripts 
100 % my degree in exams 
Spelling my conversational law facts 

© Raymond Ngomane 

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Through the Eyes of A Child

It’s not fair 
But then it never is
All the teachers
All the learning that they got
It couldn't prepare them 
Could it?
It couldn't stop it 
Or halt it
Or even control it?
The whirlwind that is I

All the promises and
All the lies
It was all too much
It was never enough

I tried
They didn’t
The whispers behind my back
The taunts, and jeers;
Even the teachers 
Who are supposed to protect 
and keep order;
Just walk away
Just ignore her
She’ll go away

Yes Mrs. Mother 
Well stop it
Don’t worry

Freak
Vampire
Weirdo
She has coodies
She’s creepy
No one likes you
Go away
No one wants’ to play with a lesbian like you
It would be so much better if she were gone
I wish she would just leave forever

Would it?
Could it?
Was it?
I left
I hide
I never showed my face
But you still;

What did I ever do to you?
What could I have done to you?
I was only ten
Just barely out of childhood really
But I can't really blame you...can i?
No I can't

My only option left
Was silence
Did it make you happy?
Did you smile?
Was all that work
All that cruelty
All that heartache;

Was it worth it?
Did it finally make you feel better?
Like you were better,
More powerful?

Who was your next victim?
Never mind.
Not like it matters
They didn't help them either
I suppose

You can't see
You refuse to see
Just like the teachers
They all failed
Not only me

But you
And
Every
Other
Child
That
Was 
Forgotten,
Lost,
And
Alone.

I hope you all are proud.

Copyright © Rayne Thomas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Listen to Me

You never listen
Yes I know it's true
I see you try and deny it
How's that working for you?

I will say one thing
You will hear another
I will try to fix it
The misunderstanding you see

I just got in trouble
(Sigh) I told you so
They never listen to me

They say they do 
And I know they try
But all I want to do is scream
"JUST LISTEN TO ME SOMEONE PLEASE"

All I asked is that you think
What is real?
Do I ever ask this?
Will I ever again?

All I really did
Was ask
For friend

All I want
Is to be free
Free to listen
And free to be me

Sadly though
You'll never see
Just how much your 
Not listening has killed me

I have tried
Really I did
I know that I'm not eighty
I know that I'm not nice
But the only thing I asked 
For was five minutes (at the most) of your life.

I'm sorry that you failed
I'm sorry that I tried but
Mostly I'm just sorry that
I'm not sorry,
Not anymore.

Copyright © Rayne Thomas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Bladder Problems in Class

Numbers on 
White board…names written hori-
zontally

Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts – 
THAT’S just wrong…

Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!

People are
Not using lunchtime to do 
Their business 

No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

To The PE Teacher

I'm over it
I'm giving up
I don't have to do it
Yet you force me to like I'm a chump
I avoid it like an illness
You let it go
But today is the day
You took it no more
You didn't yell
Yet you exchanged insults
You hurt my feelings
That was the result
You called me a girl
You called me a clown
And if this keeps up
You're going down
Can't you see
I don't like PE
I'm not being rebel
But you scare me into anxitey
Just leave me alone
You treat me like a drone
You're not getting forgiveness
But you can get off my blacklist
If you cease and desist

Copyright © Tyrone Johnston | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Class or Claaassee

Class or Claaassee !

Night  owl with an open circumstance fears
from blue neglect with the rages of unfortunate
idealisms---“why don’t you”---a nag  nag  nag
sequence,  fosters an arm’s length gaze glance
I peer through picket fence fingers, while tongue
depressing hop  to  it  euphemisms to gag
your elementary gesture fantasies with lurking
adult  gonatitudes, (envy) in full glee—“I don’t
care---but then what if”---and
would even believe me if I tried to tell
you the truth, you don’t want to touch in mind.
I fail to the order of kindergartenal suicide
and prose my character to mold your moods in
one tenth hope of a swelled down deep particle
secret desire. Take it for what it is and not think
to misabandon,  stop  look  and feelisten.
Your neighbor is only good as you. Plain 
simple downdeep and bittersweet bliss bias
but for—lorn fortunate to at least gain a
Goldilocks glimpse into your uncouth
vascular unconscious. Given a mathetical
½ chance I may le-learn a think or 2
and----------------------hey,  gimme me a hecka break
as he razed her eyebrows.

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Homework

I try, I try, I try again
This cycle, I just can't break free
Every day the same routine
Yes, it is tiresome,
But it is necessary
Says the teacher
Who without fail,
Gives it out everyday
What could this be?
Homework, what else?

Copyright © Caleb Thompson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt
10/3/2013

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

the teacher

drinks wine after school
has far too many

eruptions from

	small pitchers
	small bowels

	paper cuts
	budget cuts

	that	 	terrible mother

	racism filtered
	a 6 year old prism

and crayons

	all over

		the floor

Copyright © Julia Cheng | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Porn No More

I've watched the war from behind closed doors;
Eyes too glued to close.
And now knowing what's in store, there's porn no more.
God's love is the only hope we know.
We are forgiven because of the love that is Jesus.
We are saved because of the love that is Jesus.
We give our lives to the Father for we are His children and He loves us.
We are loved!
No matter what we've done, we are loved!
Confess and ask for forgiveness;
This is such a beautiful gift!
Thank You God!
Thank You Jesus!
You forgive me!
You save me!
You change me!
I am changed!
I am new!
I am renewed!
I am forgiven!
I am saved!
I am changed!
There's porn no more
For God's hope is in store!
There's porn no more
For God's love is the hope of the world!

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Name of Jesus

Whisper me the sweet sound of freedom,
The sweet sound found in Your Name,
Holy and Heavenly freedom,
All in the Name of Jesus!

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

SEX ANTIDOTE

Quiet whispers   
whispering about sex
sex is natural   
everyone's whispering about sex
masculine and feminine energy
male and female sex   
let’s talk about it     
let’s talk about sex
souls dating
souls mating
I’m first  
he’s next 
he's staring at it 
going at it
no calls, no text
lose the negative stigma 
associated with sex
come,  come      
sexual education is up next
here’s what we need to know
admire the body  
it inspires growth
be kinky
blindfolded, suck on toes
no shame in it      
play with it
see where it goes 
sex is not to be put to shame
sex so good 
I call out his name
`oh, God  
his name
sex so good   
no shame     
sex so good   
no blame 
sex is an antidote for emotional pain

Copyright © BLUE33 NailahBaniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Why Teachers exist

Teachers exist,
to help us understand,
The beauty of the world and all its magnificence,
In hopes of cherishing all that we see,
and becoming a wonderful person with each discovery,

Teachers exist,
To be our pillar of support,
Embracing arms that we run into to confide,
They shield us from negativity as much as they are able,
So we can decide on how to fulfill our destinies,
Much like guiding angels from great fables,

One of God's gift to mankind,
The creation of teachers,
To lead and to instill values,
Harboring hopes of one day,
For the pupils nurtured and groomed,
To make the world a better place..

Copyright © Chandrasekar Singaram | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Light

They praise me like a saint,
But I am a sinner;
They don't know the man they see.
I am an addict.
Broken eyes to pornography,
Only Jesus can set me free.
Only by His death on the cross
And the grace of His Father's love
Am I able to be set free.
With God as The Light,
The One and Only Light,
The Only Hope in sight,
Will I be set free.
I am free.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Teacher Creatures

I only learned one thing in school
And that was how to fight
The teachers were always so good at it
And they were always right.

One teacher was nicknamed spitfire
Because she'd spit as she spoke
All the teachers wore mortar board hats
And wore long black cloaks.

Always late for lessons
Always got the cane.
School books hidden in your trousers never worked
You had to feel the pain.

One teachers face got so red when he got mad
We only had a riot in class nothing unusual
Didn't think we were that bad.

Our sports teacher used to whack us hard
When we forgot our P,E kir
And make us run through nettles
In bare feet the hurt more than a bit.

In science we always tried to make a bomb
And leave the gas taps on
We'd make pea shooters from biro pens
And when the teachers were facing the blackboard
We'd shoot at them then sit poker faced wasn't me Sir.

We'd hide around building corners
To gamble and smoke a crafty cigarette
Until one day a teacher came around suddenly
With a water jet.

One teacher had an affair with an other teacher
With a very pretty one with nice legs and blonde hair
I used to dream about
In my fantasies she was mine
It just wasn't fair.

I was convinced they were not human
But came from some other planet one day in spaceships
And not cars
Maybe they were from Mars.

We'd put condoms on door handles
Let the teachers tyres down on their car
Sneak into the girls changing room for an eye full
And steal their knickers and their bras
Sing rude words to songs at morning assembly
Throw stink bombs in the teachers lounge
Draw funny pictures in our books  of our teachers with their trousers down. 

Sometimes  I'd be madly in love with a teacher or a girl pupil
And do nothing but day dream all day long
Skipping through fields of sunflowers hand in hand
Kissing like to clams under a tree all day long
Oh I was always in love with someone
And would often burst out in song.

I got good at forging homework diary signatures
Explaining why my homework wasn't done
It was always some far fetched story
Like I was chased by Atilla the Hun.

Ahh school days yes we were nothing more than savages
But the teachers were savages too
They should have changed the name school
To Human Zoo.

''I was a good boy I was''.
 

Peter Dome. Copyright.2015. June.

Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Apples to Apples

We wave good bye now
Yellow paper hearts
staple gunned to the bulletin board
flapping in the fan breeze
She nods at her work
The chalkboard washed and dried
And with gnashing teeth
One by one those staples pried from their chest board
 breaking, tearing the delicate paper-thin poems
One by one they break her hearts
On the desks, the apples molded
Like she did them
From seeds of wisdom she watched
their minds ripen

Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

My Teacher fancied me

I think my teacher used to fancy me
Because  on my work she gave me kisses
Instead of a tick
She'd keep me in the class after school to do lines
I wanted to be a brain surgeon
But I guess I was just too thick.

In break time
The bullies would break my pencils and my pens
And chase me around the playground  and back again
I used to draw rude pictures
Of my teachers in my books
Until A teacher stood behind me
And took a look.

Always in trouble why was it always me
I din't mean to put frog spawn in the head masters bag
And red hot chilli in his tea
I couldn't wait for the bell to ring at half past three
Then I'd run home as fast as I could
To have my tea and watch TV.

The only thing I learned from school was
Girls were different and horrid
And how to fight
And I'd arrive home battle scared
With a muddy school uniform
Almost every night.

I came from the wrong side of town
And my future was ordained
I now write from my prison cell
And every days the same.

I never became a brain surgeon
Or married a beauty queen
Became a rock star
Or commander of a submarine.

I'm just me
And that's all I can be.


Peter Dome.copyright.2015 Oct.

Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

sorry for the dirty laundry mom


I'm not wearing underwear
I can’t afford to clean my clothes
I shower every day
and sensitive skin from soap and psoriasis makes me itch
But I have bills to pay
I know you understand
Raising my little half brother and half sister
I've only met once
who are an ocean away
But this isn’t my story, it's yours
and the memories that remain

I know we've talked about it
Your pain and mine
About dad an alcoholic, and the abuse
and how you’re still attracted to it
But I still remember soo many nights
And soo many strange days

You dragged by your hair
I'll never forget
You thrown through the door
is embedded in my head
You with black eyes
you fell out of bed
The screaming 
The fights
I remember everything said
My name 
My brother’s name
Psychological abuse for you
soo long ago mom
You left and I don’t blame you
Years of you being cheated on
And dad would introduce us to his girlfriends
Easter holidays treasure hunt
While your husband was out betraying everyone

I know you know
That he talks poorly about you
And acts like the better man
But mom I remember
and you need to understand
What you went through
And the nights when I heard the door slam close
because you were fighting
and he told you to leave
That was how I met god in a sense
and always prayed for you to come back
Then finally I prayed for you sanity safety and for you to leave
And I would cry
as quietly as I could
cry myself to sleep
and chances are
dad either fell asleep
or went out in his drunken stupor 
to cheat on you again

The divorce is over
It’s been over for years 
But yet its still messy and I bite my tongue and remember
The night you came into my room
And told me you had to leave
I remember taking beer to kindergarten
Hiding it from you and dad
To throw it away
And my teacher in grade three finally asked
No lie mom
I had the same teacher in kindergarten and grade three
I could write an entire poem
about all of the people who shaped my mind
But I need you to see
When I come visit and am called an incest family man by your boyfriend
for giving you a hug
You’ve fallen into the same trap
And it’s like my own mother I’m not allowed to love






Copyright © Troy Nelson | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Walking Dead

Numbness as I walk in halls
A heavy load in my hand I bear
Tome of the ancient past
Portrays a fog in my mind

Emptiness, void and vanity
As I look at zombies like me
Consumed by an epidemic...
Which left us cold-blooded

At the darkness of dusk
When the sun shines no more
I lie below the tombstone of my grave
Devoured by a sleepy hollow in my coffin

Vitality where are you?
Where are your streams of life? 
I' am lost, Where am I?
Oh wait, that's right
I'm in college

Copyright © Dorlan Tiu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Teacher

You want to teach me how to teach yet you are not so discreet with your racial and social preferences.
You want to teach me how to be "refine" yet I would get a fright when I see you at night.
You want to teach me to socialize yet when we meet in the streets you turn head to wave at the other person who is busy crossing the street.

You, my teacher, have taught me to forgive
You , my teacher, have taught me  to be genuine
You, my teacher, have taught me to be sociable

Although you possess none of these....

Copyright © Anoush Harrison-Jackson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

For a Teacher

The Teacher

Written some where around 1962
By Douglas Malloch
In honor of Douglas Malloch with the hope
That I am only honoring this great Poem
By reproducing a part of it 

This is not the beginning of the Poem ‘The Teacher’
…….

A general, a great divine,
Yea, Men whose names with luster shine,
Learned Latin at that simple shrine.

For here the great began
To dream, to wish, to hope, to plan;
To day was born tomorrow’s man.

And so the teacher grew to gray;
And fifty years have passed away
When someone happens on a day

To pause before the teacher’s door,
The threshold that the children wore
A half a century or more,

And asks, as that good man appears:
“Are you not weary, tired to tears,
Of teaching Latin all the years?”

A simple answer he employs
To tell a teacher’s holy joys:
“I don’t teach Latin – I teach boys.”

God bless the teacher who can look
Above beyond, the open book,
The one who teaching undertook

Nor merely for the Latin’s sake,
But for the holy chance to make
Tomorrow’s man, a soul to wake;

……
By  Douglas Malloch 

This great Poem quoted in honor of  all sinbcere Teachers  &  ‘Andrea Dietrich  a teacher’

This is also in honor and love of my wife, who also is a Teacher.

Ravindra


 

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

MOON FLOWER

Where did the White Flower come from
I wanna know, I gotta know
where did he come from 
spring from
‘cause the world is split in two
ancients wars being fought between
ME and YOU
where did he come from
spring from
some say Frankenstein
the mad scientist 
the darkest part of mind
scary tales passed along through time
where did the White Flower come from
I want the truth this time 
further than cavemen and neanderthals  
love expands my mind 
someone's been watching  The Others 
wasting time 
white sisters and brothers 
the truth this time
pull back the drapes and absorb the light 
delicate flower, moon flower, the calmer light
where did the White Flower spring from 
he sprung from earth
separation is disillusionment
we were "separated" at birth
White-light skin African
another reflection of earth
another version of Black beauty 
what a beautiful earth

Copyright © BLUE33 NailahBaniti | Year Posted 2016