Best Education Poems
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Education
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Education
Poem
Heritage
The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.
Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.
This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.
The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.
A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.
Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.
The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.
At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.
I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.
The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.
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Education
Poem
Stoned
In seeming innocence you lie
about the edges of the dust-strewn street.
Remnants of larger issues crumbled to just the right size for a killing blow.
Before the mob merged, before voices raised the hairs on the back of her neck,
You lay dormant; the warm ochre of a favorite pet, now a once cherished wife
and mother lays dead, brought down by the bloodlust of the men around her.
Today, the stones are coated rust-red with the blood of women in Iraq
laid low by the husbands, sons, and fathers.
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Education
Poem
Didn't Don't
Somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
didn't don't
didn't don't
Don't touch it. Don't say it. Don't do it. Don't doubt it. Don't think.
Somebody handcuffs my steps. Somebody determinds my boundaries.
Before I fully understand free will, there is a slap on my head
and phosphenes like stars that command my orbit.
Before I can recognize differences, there is a slap on my hand
right hand, not left hand...never ambidextrous;
and time out is isolation without a trial...and I learn
the fear of wrongdoing
remote-controling my existence,
conditional on demand, predesigned
and easily
and obviously
frightened
An aborted freedom escaping into the sewer
trying not to get it on the seat
Im the observer of other lives, not mine
tied up and chained, in captivity
attempting to prove an alibi
for being alive.
No one cares
not even myself
Somebody pulls on the rope to swing the bells
didn't don't
didn't don't
It's dirty. It's ugly. It's bad. It's poo. It's sin.
commitments, commandments... Commandments, Commitments
Salvation... Damnation
Sometimes deception makes them ring in a low tone. Sometimes
I do what they say, and not what they do, and not what I want, and not what I think.
Through fragments of this duplicity,
and this duplicity,
I would be able to rebuild myself,
and Myself, into another hypocritical being;
and the intentional perversion of the self proclaimed truth,
or the liar paradox,
will be sovereign
leading to the use of tricks and cotton swabs.
When the remorseless hours run counterclockwise,
I would be happy through imaginary experiences,
consistently depurated,
consistently believed to be true.
Would I dare to examine the society in which I've been educated and raised?
Would I dare rip my skin...my flesh off of my bones?
How could I blame them? How could I possibly judge them?
Order and obedience in confabulation...in conspiracy...in complicity
If somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
If Im the only one guarding my own cell
If Im the jailer, and the convict, and the crime.
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Education
Poem
Mental Hospital Bills
dadgum doctors, heads up their butts
poking, prodding, pricking skin
neurologist a psychopath
gets pleasure as electric volts pass through my body
family doctor showed little concern
made me paranoid about irregular heartbeat
EKG failed to determine cause
left me more in doubt than at ease
dentist like a character from Dustin Hoffman’s “Marathon Man”
the more pain inflicted
the more he rejoiced
deep root cleaning caused severe infection
bloodwork done by Vampira clones
labs filled with tubes and needles
results not shared with me
yet I footed the bill
optometrist an Oriental who moved so fast
didn’t care if the prescribed glasses worked
boo on you, dang aristocrats
waving your credentials
nurses so slow to respond
MRI promised on CD, but couldn’t be obtained
just like the blood tests, needed a “report”
doctors driving me insane
each should share my mental hospital bills
*Based on ongoing health tests and written for PD’s contest. Assignment Free Verse, 25 lines, category slam, sad and educational, title: Mental Hospital Bills
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Education
Poem
The 'Star of Education'
Like many precious diamonds,
Good teachers are hard to find
Yet sometimes one can discover
A rare and priceless kind,
It’s not like all the others
For it out-shines the rest
You know as soon as you see it
That this stone is the best,
A good teacher is that special gem
They do far more than teach
They make you feel, through learning,
There’s no star you cannot reach
In Art, they help you see differently
From new angles, not straight up and down
They make Geography an adventure
As the world you travel around
In History, they make you feel
You’ve lived and breathed the times
And Math is not sums, but puzzles
To stretch and tone your mind
In English they encourage you
To not just write, but feel
So that each one of your stories
Will read as if it were real,
If you ever have a question
You call and they are there
With patience and understanding
Your problems are theirs, they care
There’s usually one in every school
Superior to the rest
For they’re the ‘Star of Education’
And as such are totally priceless!
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Education
Poem
Goodbye, Saint Joseph's School -- Elton John
*Sung to the tune of Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.” Intended to be taken
humorously.
“When are you gonna grow up?
It is in jail you will land
You’ll have to stay after class
And I’ll be talking to your old man”
“You know you can’t hold me forever
The last school bus is now due
You can’t rap my knuckles with your ruler now
Stand in my way and I’ll just run through
So nah, nah, nah…
“So goodbye, St. Joseph’s School
Where the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ were cruel
The Catholic school’s finally closing
The lunchroom’s stopped serving gruel
“I’m taking that bus, might never get off
Don’t want to face my Dad’s wrath
Oh, I’ve finally decided to free myself
And set out on my own path
So nah, nah, nah…”
“How can you earn a living?
You can’t even spell your name
You’ll be required to take some remedial courses
And stop playing silly head games”
“Maybe you’ll get a new convent
I hear there’s some room in Brazil
Students there might appreciate
A no-nonsense sister with a voice shrill
So nah, nah, nah…
“So goodbye, St. Joseph’s School
Where the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ were crude
The altar boys have been set free
The priests are no longer lewd
“I’d like to stay, watch them raze it
The site with torture imposed
Where skeletons still hide in the closets
Nevermore to be exposed
So nah, nah, nah…”
*For John Heck’s “Dear John” contest.
Those of us who attended St. Joseph’s just learned the school is being closed.
Although a good education was provided, some students were beaten there repeatedly.
I feel a good education was provided, but they went overboard with discipline.
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Education
Poem
Oneness
Oneness
Authored by Chuck Keys
It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.
There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.
Thinking multi-physically
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically
It wasn't here or there and it was.
With no distinction,
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.
It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.
In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.
The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."
Differences exist for differences,
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.
DEDICATION:
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.
www.gandhiking.ning.com
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Education
Poem
50 Shades Of Gold
Take me beat me and mold me
I am yours to do with what you wish
No matter what you do with me
I am still considered quite a dish.
I can modify your hardness
I can let you know when to boil
I can conduct a heat in you
And I will never let you spoil.
I don’t react harshly, if you get me moist and wet
You’ll still love me in the morning, on that I think I’ll bet
I will still be malleable, no matter what you do
You can beat me to transparency, and yes you see right through.
I am a bright yellow colour, with a lustre some would die for
Keeping me in condition, would never become a chore
If you really wanted too, you can put me in your mouth
I can even adorn your body parts, North, West, East and South…
I don’t react to an acid tongue, except those that are vitriolic
But you can dissolve me with the acid, called nitro hydrochloric.
You can pour me when I’m so very hot too hot for you to play
Then you can finger me when I have cooled, and play with me all day
You can eat off me, or with me, the choice will be yours
They say I came from outer space, in fact in meteors
But one thing I will say I don’t wear out or lose my lustre, it is told
So if you pick me up treat me well, I am you little nugget of gold.
© 14/12/2012 ~GG~
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Education
Poem
The Four Little Pigs
Once upon a time, there were four little pigs
and a wolf with a craving for pork.
Three of the pigs were just regular swine
but the fourth was a bit of a dork.
Now piggies, like people, must have a good house
in which to store all their stuff.
It is also essential to shield them from harm,
such as a wolf-at-the-door’s huff-and-puff.
The three regular pigs had regular homes
constructed of bricks, wood and straw.
The other pig lived in a house made of books,
considered, by some, a faux pas.
Well the piggies who lived in the straws and the sticks
were accosted by that big wild dog,
who thought to himself “what a couple of hicks,
why, I’m gonna get me some hog!”
But each pig ran off - wolf’s plan went awry,
as they escaped to the house made of brick.
The pigs, he soon learned, were surprisingly spry
for creatures quite portly and thick.
Then he tried to blow down that house made of bricks
and it just wouldn’t budge - like a rock.
The piggies inside just giggled and yelled:
“hey Big Bad Wolf! Take a walk!”
So he stomped to the sty of pig number four -
the house that was built out of books.
This pig was not scared of the wolf at his door,
or even his scariest looks.
For you see, pig had read every book used to build
the foundation and walls of his shack;
preparing him well with options and skills
to fend off a bad-wolf attack.
The wolf howled at the door: “oh pig let me in -
I’m wanting to give you a gift!”
Pig said: “not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin,
for your ruse is not very swift.”
The wolf was no match in words or in wit
for piggy’s fine cottage of prose;
still, he huffed and he puffed and threw a big fit,
but listen... everyone knows
that a scholar will earn a whole lot more dollars
in the course of the life that he lives;
than a wolf who simply just huffs, puffs and hollers,
because learning is really what gives.
Defeated again, wolf knocked on pig’s door
and shouted “hey, you smart little hog -
I’ll never again call you a dork
if you’ll tutor this ignorant dog.”
“Cause I’m tired of huffing and puffing, you see,
just to capture my every meal;
so teach me to read and loan me some books
and I’ll get enlightened, and real.”
So Piggy and Wolf became really good friends,
and famous, on talk circuit shows.
Sharing their story and love of good books
which is healthy, as everyone knows.
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Education
Poem
Once Was A King
There once was Castle just over the hill
That belonged to a King with an iron will
Nestled safely behind his Castle wall
With an army to insure they wouldn’t fall
It was clear for the entire world to see
Destiny would record him in history
The richest King in all of the land
A beautiful Queen at his right hand
He ruled the land from shore to shore
Tell me, “Could any man ask for more”?
Turns out this King had just one vice
He was so great he forgot to be nice
Against any force he was bound to win
So the devil attacked him from with-in
Such a great King skilled with the sword
Much too great a King to turn to the Lord
Watched his entire Kingdom crumble away
Because he was to great to kneel and pray
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