He’s never heard one lesson of this class,
but has to get a grade in history.
So he’s shown up at last, sure he will pass
the test that prior students say is easy!
He feels no need to read the test’s directions.
It uses letter symbols; he can tell
he only needs to trust his recollections
about the fifty states. He should do well!
He feels assured that Md has to be
for Maryland, and Missouri is Mo.
It’s very clear Nebraska is Ne.
But why No? Everyone should know that NO means NO!
Ca, Pa, In; a piece of cake!
Then he sees a few that are an utter
puzzlement or just a huge mistake!
Pb, he’s sure, is only peanut butter!
Sg might be Singapore, or else Saigon.
But how are those in U.S. History?
Fr for France? Just what is going on?
The cocky guy is feeling kind of queasy.
At last he thinks to go back to the start
and read the test’s instructions. . . O M G!
The test was on the periodic chart
of elements! Wrong class. It’s Chemistry!!!
*The correct answers of the test were really
Md for Mendelevium, Mo for Molybdenum,
Ne for Neon, No for Nobelium, Ca for Calcium,
Pa for Protactinium, In for Indium, pb for Lead,
Sg for Seaborgium and Fr for Francium (he was close on that one!)
As for me, I would stay in the history class!!!
Being the shortest in my high school gym class
Attempts to play basketball brought no success
Broke my finger while trying to catch a pass
Leaping to take balls from tall girls? What a mess!
Always loved football, baseball and soccer too
But in basketball I succumbed to defeat
Just couldn’t get into it, that is true
Till Dad took me to see the Miami Heat
Startled he was, watching me jump up and down
Although my enthusiasm was contrived
The cheers of other fans my loud voice did drown
This was the last time I saw my Dad alive
I’m so thankful now that I went to that game
Dad was so grateful for these moments we shared
When I watch basketball now, it’s not the same
It was Dad and not the sport for which I cared
*Entry for Deb’s “Play Ball” contest
I was born unto this world
A little boy called James
I was just like all the rest
Who in the playground played normal games
I knew my life was in trouble
By the time I reached the age of five
My mother had so many friends
I wondered why I was alive
The kids all used to laugh at me
In my short trousers and bloodied knees
If only they had known
What was going on, in the inside of me
Would they ever know
Why a mother would put you down
And pretend that your not there
As another arrives from out of town
Have they ever wondered
To go to school with clothes unwashed
Sleep on a concrete floor
While your Mother's comfortably sloshed
Do they ever stop and wonder
What happens around them day by day
They can't, because they are young like me
When all they want to do is play
My teens are around the corner
To secondary school I go
I survive and I get wiser
As I intend my life to flow
As we travel down life's highways
When we are born they are seldom written
You know the roads you want to take
For inside you, your internally smitten
Know how to make
The best of what you've got in you
You do it everyday in your life
Honesty is the best policy
That's a lesson I was taught at school
But today in a world of trickery
Is that merely advice for a fool?
One time a person's word was his bond
A handshake was used to seal a deal
Today, no oath can be relied on
For some are always trying to steal
I shall be honest in my action
For to myself I have to be true
In each and every situation
No matter what others say or do
Peace of mind is most important to me
That's why I shall always strive to be free
To act in all truth and sincerity
For honesty is the best policy
I tried to write this poem in the style of some poems I learned and loved as a child. I have a special fondness for balanced rhyming poems. I think they are easier for children to learn. I believe it is important for children to learn the importance of honesty and I dedicate this poem to them.
What birth pains are these
The kind that bring no peace
It seems no one is pleased
Until someone leaves
©2014 Honestly JT
In school with rules,
Me and my freind have pencil duels;
My evil cat haunts the kids,
While some how opening pickel lids.
In this place,
It's not a race;
Get lots of rest,
For the big tests.
Study all night,
Don't get a fright;
This is just school,
No need to be cool.
I don’t live on the waving sea,
But I wave on land as far as eye can see.
I am the shade from summer’s sun,
The shining stock on a hunter’s gun.
I’m the match that lights the fire,
Keep me fed and I won’t expire.
Use my heat from the hearth so bright,
Warming your cabin on a cold winter’s night.
Scoreboard pads and high school notes
Stand in line to get my votes.
Notebook paper is a great invention;
It came from me, need I mention?
The dining room table serves you eat,
Under which you place your feet.
From my cradle a little boy fell,
Who am I, O won’t you tell?
A tiny toothpick is not too small,
Nor a telephone pole a bit too tall.
I serve mankind in many ways,
So use me wisely, is my closing phrase.
I will miss all my friends
When school finally ends
Sitting at the lunch table
Telling lots of stories and fables
All the laughing and goofing around
You know to stop when you hear that sound
Then you hush
And start to blush
I will miss these things about Elementary school
All the times we acted like fools
Now its up to the big High school
No more will we act like fools
Opening the doors to
the old studio I find
A playful capriole
sprinted across my mind
Into a sashay and a glissade
I drifted back
I could hear the teachers
stick go tap.tap.tap
Once a prestigious ballet
school of great poise
Filled with music as our
slippers sounded with noise
The mirrors are cracked
and the floors dusty
Rain soaked wood left the
room smelling musty
The charm stayed behind
as if waiting for me
Spotlighting a ballerina to
The goddess of the sea
The young girl danced
flawlessly then took a bow
Then sashayed off the stage
without a moistened brow
An old battered piano
appeared across from me
Bearing red ballet shoes
like a crimson canopy
Charm embraced her while
honoring her memory
As I looked into the mirror
I saw that girl was me
Carole Cookie Arnold
School bully pushed off with both hands and feet.
With my heart in my throat, I stood up to cheat.
I am a clown with a weapon called pause -
I chased his focus with raucous applause.
I told him, “Feel free to stay or take flight.”
I could tell this kid was set for a fight.
Being a sprinter, I went with my feet
and took off running in quick retreat.
I am a pacifist, I love what's quiet
so I dodge the spots where kids often riot.
I'm also a stoolie and finally stopped
to hide in the office and call the cops.
THE SIXTY-FOURTH REUNION
By Leonard Kleeman
We held our 64th reunion just the other day.
We were the best class of 1949 we'd say.
Just us guys alone (we were not co-ed),
The girls came later after we all were wed.
Those of us who were left after all the years
would remember those gone and then shed some tears.
We lost some in Korea and some just passed away.
And some we couldn't find even to this day.
But of those who were left, we had a good core.
And we'd meet every year, and now for 64.
Some couldn't make it this time because they were ill.
Others would just forget as we elders commonly will.
A few came with walkers and then some with canes.
We were all old friends but couldn't remember some names.
We'd look around and see lots of white hair
and then there were others who had none to spare.
We ate and we laughed and some even took pills
We listened to each other and knew most had some ills.
The ills weren't discussed because it wasn't quite polite
and we wanted to think only of our high school day's delight.
Those were the years when we were just starting out.
We had health and vigor and had no reason to pout.
We were students and athletes and musicians too.
Our futures were bright and life was still new.
We lived so many years since we left our great school,
It's now all in our memories that shine like a jewel.
We meet together to share those wonderful gems
And to see each other again like all good old friends.
As we depart the reunion, shake hands and give hugs,
We stop to wonder with several deep shrugs
Who will be here next year and who will be gone.
We hope all will return and see the next dawn.
We are all octogenarians and still like to hang around.
We hope to be here longer and live to paint the town.
So for all you guys out there, we'll meet again next year.
Our 65th will be a blast and for that we'll give a cheer.
Copyright 2013 by Leonard Kleeman. All rights reserved, including reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
I'm realy going to miss recess,
Our time outside always flew.
Even when it was a muddy mess
There were plenty of things to do.
Instead of learning about mass,
We spent time watching a movie.
Playing games with the class
No work, now THAT was groovie.
Teachers here are realy nice
I'll miss them, this is true.
They gave me realy good advice
And made me giggle tooo.
I'll miss these things, and so much more
Even if I come back never
As I grow and soar
I'll remember them forever.
In high school did I die?
Oh but to give life a try!
Is it all part of God's dream?
Or should I just croak or scream!
Running around the playground,
Oh how I wish I could stick around.
Ouch I just fell on the ground,
Oh how I love the sound.
Checking out different kinds of logs.
There's even jars with baby hogs,
I've even learned about different kinds of bogs.
I like painting lots of flowers,
Maybe for a whole hour.
Once I even drew the Eiffel Tower,
And even a shower.
Math sometimes gives me trouble,
So I go to my teacher on the double.
We work together in our own little bubble,
And she pulls me safely out of the rubble.
By: Rebekah Fry
At age eleven, had a paper route
My papers were dropped off about daylight
I’d be waiting there when they arrived
I’d fold them and delivery from my bike
Then with my tennis racket on my bike
I’d head for the park to play a fun sport
My brother and some friends would be waiting
That early we could always get a court
I cherish this summer time memory
Early morning tennis four times a week
It made getting up less of a burden
A fun time, following work, was just neat
Later on I played tennis in high school
I even joined the High School tennis team
Enjoyed the sport in college and beyond
But my “park tennis” memories reign supreme
Composed Aug 30, 2012
In Texas, High School Football is king
Every Friday night there’s a game
A big event and the stands are full
The games aren’t played for fun, they’re for fame
In my second year of College life
My High School Football team went to State
I was compelled to go to Baytown
A Championship maybe their fate
So proud was I, my team on the field
In the high school color, power blue
The group of us sitting in the stands
Tyler High fans through and through
Then the Abilene team came on the field
I could feel a big lump in my throat
Man for man they all looked like giants
The front linemen were something of note
From the first snap, you knew things were bad
Abilene’s linemen were in control
The whole line of scrimmage moved with them
My team got trampled under their roll
Yes, Trampled would be the word of choice
And it continued throughout the game
Abilene won the Championship
Trampled Tyler left Baytown in shame
Covetousness or Greed begets
In our souls unkindness
And want of Charity or Love
What I'll miss most of all,
I'm not quite sure about.
It could be when my friends and I had a ball,
Or when we would laugh and shout.
It could be having only 3 or 4 teachers a day,
Or playing 4-square on the playground.
Instead we'll be sitting in the classroom writing an essay,
Waiting until we hear the bell sound.
One last thing before I go,
I will also miss all my teachers.
They have made my experience grow.
Goodbye now, maybe I'll see you in the bleachers.
BY: S. S.
Today, it just doesn't seem fair
That we are still able to breathe.
They have given us their air-
Our duty to lead the life they leave.
Math can be confusing,
With numbers, equations, and more
Hard to understand,
Try to break it down to the core
When there is no where to turn,
You wonder, does math involve lore?
Probably not, but it's worth a try,
Since the stress makes you sweat through pores
Math can be confusing,
With numbers, equations, and more
Hard to understand,
Try to break it down to the core
Next week I am college bound
An education is what I seek
Further knowledge to be found
In my quest I will not be meek.
School days for me has long since passed
For out of school I became a mother
On my list education became last
For me the choice was none other.
These are not the days of yesteryear
No having fun and going to school dances
For failure is what I fear
So no time for silly romances.
Time to study hard and long
College professors will take no excuse
For homework being late or how an answer is wrong
It will still be my neck in the noose.
This time around there is no marching band practice
All my spare time devoted to study
I may seem prickly like a cactus
But no time for me to be a buddy.
Time to buckle down and move ahead
No longer with my high school sweetheart
No more dragging feet full of lead
Time to give my life a brand new start.
No more jobs...I desire a career
My heart beats double time
But please do not jeer
School at my age is not a crime.
Bring on English and Math
Sorry my dear dear friends
I am following a new path
Time lost with them... will later make amends.
Time for the thinking cap
No worries of being a fool
Even though there is a huge time gap
Since the days of high school.
Knowledge is power
Education is key
No need to be dour
Law is the field for me.
For John Loving III Education game...Nara Shevanna you are next dear
I will miss some of my teachers,
Sitting with my friends.
On the bleachers,
Till the very end.
In elementary school,
We see are friends almost all day.
Which is pretty cool,
In the suns hot rays.
My teachers that I had,
I will not forget.
They were not that bad,
I even had Mrs. Burgett.
I will miss elementary school,
Even though it was not cool,
I will learn to get along,
Without school and a gong,
Friends I will hug,
Squish like a bug,
Some friends are smart,
Enemies are tart,
Others are not,
Like a fish the will get caught,
We did not fight,
We did what was right,
Teachers I have liked,
For high school I am psyched.
My room is never clean,
But that is not my fault,
It is the monster under my bed who does it,
He’s the one to call.
I’ll organize my school books,
And then I’ll make my bed.
I’ll do all my laundry,
And make sure my fish aren’t dead,
But when I go to school,
The monster will come out!
Destroying all in his path,
And eating fish, no doubt!
Although when I get yelled at
By my mom, it’s not nice
For the monster not to take credit,
For he’s the destroying device!
So I’m staying home from school today,
To make sure I can see
That darn monster destroy,
But where could he be?
He left nail polish on the floor,
And my carpet’s stained with tea,
Oh my gosh this is horrible,
The monster, is me!
I will miss the art,
But not the farts.
I will miss the recces,
But not the stress.
I won't miss it being like a jail,
And the food is so stail.
Miss Brion will always be a jewel,
And is never cruel.
We always have many tests,
And never any time to rest.
We have to have our initials,
To be so offical.
There will be things I will miss,
But I will never give kisses.
The memories will always linger,
And always leave a stinger.
By: Lilly Houseknecht
For a joyful
You need spiritual and mental union
There are many things I will miss
All about elementary time
One of them is my mom's kiss
But I've had quite a fun time
We have had lots to learn
Some about George Washington
And we even had a pet fern
But don't forget the multiplication
Kids have had class together
Never once the class split
We might not be together forever
But now we'll be quite a hit
By: Anna M.
Mortal Angels as people are unemployed these days
Ask help for certain Mortal Angels
Today and everyday
They will not refuse to assist you
Envy begets in the soul a want of charity for our neighbor
Produces a spirit of detraction