Best Homework Poems
It was our third-grade field trip to the Dinosaur Exhibit
We would be touring all the lands that dinosaurs inhibit
I remember the teacher saying “keep your hands inside your pockets”
Then she paired me with the meanest kid, his name was Tommy Rockets
“I dare you to take an egg,” Tommy whispered giving me a stare
The nest was full of eggs, if I took the smallest who would care?
The next day at school every child was questioned.
The museum curator was out to teach us a lesson
The egg had grown overnight and was hidden in my coat.
They made mom take me to the doctor so he could check my throat.
They poked me and they prodded, ran machines against my feet.
They questioned why I would choose that specific egg to eat.
The news showed my picture on every single station.
One reporter called me Dino Boy. I was an amateur sensation
When the egg finally hatched I had to hide the birth.
The animal that was born was extinct from this earth.
A Flaming Pterodactyl in all his blazing glory.
No one believed me, but who could make up such a story?
At first, he was easy and stayed in my closet through the day.
At night he’d fly around but never go astray.
Then I started getting blamed for things when I wasn’t even there.
Like vegetables gone from gardens leaving soil bare.
Kitty cats so high in trees the firemen couldn’t reach them.
Children so riled up teachers couldn’t teach them.
We moved from one town to another and another.
Each time it was the same. People felt pity for my mother
The next morning I woke up to a chewing sound
crunch, crunch, and crunch.
That’s when I noticed he ate my homework for his lunch.
My Flaming Pterodactyl again was causing havoc.
With a trail of Cheetos, I led him to our attic.
I made sure he was comfy then I headed off to school.
No one there believed me until they found him swimming in the pool.
Now he’s our school mascot in all his flaming glory.
A Pterodactyl that … sorry he ate the rest of this story!!
February 1st, 2021
Written for the contest: and then a flaming pterodactyl ate my homework
Sponsor: John Lawless
I didn’t do my math homework!
I watched T.V instead!
I better come up with an excuse... and quick!
Or else I’m surely dead!
My brother tore it!
It’s in the garbage!
Mom says it causes brain damage!
My power was out!
I had the flu!
I was having trouble excreting my poo!
You know, why even bother?
My excuses are so lame!
I know! My dog ate my homework!
Now to find a dog I can blame...
The British call it maths,
but the Americans ditch the s
causing much international scorn.
But for our sake, p'raps it'd be best
to keep subjects
only halfway grasped
in the singular form.
The Contest
I would like to enter,
and sometimes I do.
Occasionally I even win,
to my surprise.
How cool!
The true rule,
to every fool,
or pirate on a mission;
is write,
and write,
and write.
Do something,
say something in words,
that will ripple and feel.
Good or bad,
happy or sad,
most importantly...
Real!
About events that have taken place,
and ones that are yet to occur.
Items of interest to those in the dark,
to sing to the Light.
It is a fight daily,
to hit the right keys and not freeze.
To listen to the birds, for words.
Then, to be still and pray.
I want to move too fast,
I need to run.
But I can not.
I need to fly.
But have no wings.
I need to swim,
but my mermaid tail was sharply cut,
and legs grew back...
Clumsy now,
I stir my coffee with a sardine,
not to be mean,
they just taste good.
I hated homework - what a bore;
And wanted time to play.
I’d tolerate that stuff at school,
But that was during day.
We didn’t have a dog or cat,
But Teacher didn’t know:
Those creatures chewed my homework up,
And I was full of woe.
I’d lost my bag, my homework too,
And wasn’t it a shame,
That all my work had been in vain.
My teacher knew my game…
One day I gave up fighting it -
I saw I was a dud -
And did my homework on the bus…
Then dropped it in the mud!
9th November, for Sara’s Jobs contest
Buzzing loudly,
Is that coming from me?
Dust and filth in my shade,
Slightly cracked, was this how I was made?
My light yellowed and dim,
The chances of me getting a new light bulb are slim.
But I've been here for so long,
Everywhere else feels wrong.
A teacher asked me for this homework, to give some advice about the difference between empathy and sympathy, then I wrote this poem, but we didn't go over it yet. I'd like to share with you all and I hope people can be more empathetic in 2016. Here you go (it is a bit silly, don't laugh at me):
I have this homework to do
which is to give some advice
about when you walk in someone's shoes
or just say something to be nice
It's about empathy and sympathy
there are some slight differences
but I'll put it simply
and I have to make sentences
Sympathy has no affection
it's like saying "I'm sorry that you're blue"
but empathy fuels connection
you feel as if the other person were you
you come up with the right thing
just because what you say is true
you don't judge the other human being
empathy is as if it were you
In order to connect with someone
It is simple and I'll explain:
you feel like your hearts were one
you also suffer from the other's pain
If someone shares their sadness
you recognize their emotion
your heart is not callous
empathy is like an open ocean
One thing we do sometimes
is we're sympathetic to be polite
Sorry, empty words are like crimes
I wonder if it is right
The truth is love matters more
than words we say in vain
if a friend comes sad to your door
open your heart to relieve their pain
How can we comfort a friend
who has been picked on by the boss
or to bring peace and put an end
to their pain because of a loss?
Connection is what you have to find
and be honest and sincere
do not try to make up their mind
and if you feel, just drop a tear
this is what empathy is about
to feel, to know, to share
life stresses us out
but we care, we care...?
Not Every Day is Perfect
I took my pad to the park today.
I wanted to find an idea for a book.
I was blocked…you know… stuck.
I walked outside, and looked up into the sky.
The clouds threatened rain.
I had no umbrella, but a man in a clown suit presented me one…
immediately.
I took it, and walked on.
Down the brick paved golden street,
and turned just to the right, the bus stop on ahead.
The shuttle to Mars left five minute ago, so I hopped the train to Texas.
We arrived early for lunch with the king.
As I sat with his highness, I whipped out my pad intently...
No!
Still no ideas.
I left from there as the flamingoes were dancing and getting out of hand.
I decided to take a stagecoach to the florist shop as it would help my mood.
The soup was chicken, with small white rice, shapes of animals and crackers.
Still nothing to write about.
The day was getting late. I had to go back home.
A roller skate, a rickshaw and two hot air balloons…
The darkness came early, on my sunshine day,
But I am very happy, as my package arrived.
I have new pencils, from far away.
I will take them for a walk, instead of my pen.
Tomorrow I will try again.
Three days in - three days of school - and it’s like I never left.
In school, you can get oversaturated with screens. I like books.
They have a sense of permanence, they don’t glare back at you,
and I want something physical I can grip, markup and push off
the bed onto the floor when I get over it.
After three days of class, I’m asking (no one in particular), "Are we there yet?"
I can speed-read if I have a pointer - I use cocktail picks (swizzle sticks?) - you know, the little olive skewers you get in a martini? I have a collection from all over the world.
If I go to a bar and they have nice swizzle sticks, I’ll gather a few up. “What are you DOing,” Karen, (Lisa’s mom) asked me as I scarfed up several from patron’s empty glasses at the elegant, Refinery Rooftop bar in Manhattan.
“I have a TON of reading to do,” I explained, helpfully.
“Don’t even ask,” Lisa shrugged, rolling her eyes, when her mom looked confused.
The trick to speed reading is your eyes (and brain) pickup more than you realize and people tend to pronounce things, in their minds, as they read, which REALLY slows you down. So, you swivel the pointer down the page, following the pointer with your eyes, and Walla!
You can’t do THAT with a computer screen. You need a book, and when you have 2 or 3 hundred pages (or more) a night to read, you can’t just hold your breath and refuse - like a seven-year-old - can you? Seriously, I mean, can we? I’m asking - though it’s probably a little late (senior year).
Now, of course, not just any appetizer toothpick or fruit pick will do - the selection process can be rather byzantine. They must be a certain length, about 2 inches longer than my finger, so my hand doesn’t block the text, and square ones are the easiest to grip. Finally, if they have a little arrow-point on the tip? Well, that’s true love.
The problem is, I can get a little intense when reading and they tend to break. When my roommates hear me exclaim, “God DAMN it!” At 2am. They usually know why.
.
.
A song for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
Homework oh' homework
All kids say it stinks,
They say they wont do it,
but that it would disappear once they blink,
They say who invented it;
and who brung it forth,
They say they wish teachers would stop giving it,
And all though I agree
Homework is a good thing,
It will help you, you'll see
It will help tomorrow, today,
and years later
It will help you be smarter
it'll help you participate
So don't say that you hate it
All though you clearly do, because
you know that you need it
Don't you?
School is actually a fun place to be
To learn, enjoy and finally be free
For advisors and students to come together
To share secrets and tell us how are life can be better
But classwork, projects, tests and more
Is one thing I am positive I won't adour
You have to get a higher grade on this and that
To be the scholar that the principal would attract
For this there's a reason and always will be
We need our education to accomplish our dreams
To be a lawyer, singer, teacher and more
I learned that this is something I definitely won't ignore
That school can be rough and it can be hard
But never give up and you would achieve that far
Motherland (Eclogue)
In the country of my forefathers,
Economy is friendless and upset,
Politics are sleeping with labour,
Justice is seducing foreign crime,
Poetry is turned on, but it fears,
Traditions keeps history hostage,
Religions are attempting suicide,
Nature is busy biting its tongues,
Fruits are swearing at their trees,
Education shows God axis finger,
Seas gets shallow, graves deepen,
Life confront its first nightmares,
Death is satisfying its final desire,
Future is stinking nothing but lies,
June 13, 2003
By Mohlouoa Ntsasa
I own a big fat cat-
The fattest for miles around.
Wherever there's lots of food,
that's where he'll be found.
He's really good at eating.
It's a talent, I suppose.
I'm sure if he keeps at it
He'd win the talent shows.
I own a big fat cat-
He weighs at least a ton
He couldn't run to save his life
Yes, he isn't much fun
His favourite room's the kitchen,
(I'm sure we all know why).
He eats just about everything,
So that's why with a sigh...
I'd like to tell you teacher,
I'd like to tell you straight,
I might have "accidentally" dropped
My homework in his plate.
minus b
plus or minus root(b squared
minus four times a times c) — all above divided
by two times a — this is the quadratic formula and is absolutely correct
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?