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Best Teacher Poems

Below are the all-time best Teacher poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of teacher poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Teacher Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Teacher poems are below this new poems list.

The journey of a maths teacher by Raynes, Lewis
Teacher of Love by Kimathi, Teddy
GREATEST TEACHER by tran, hien
When am I ever going to use this in real life, teacher by Raynes, Lewis
The Forgotten Teacher by Langford, Eton
The Great Teacher by Lewis, David
My Greatest Teacher by McConnell, Gordon
Compliment to My Teacher by Makama, Funom
TEACHER FROM NURSERY RHYMES by Balachandran, Padmakumar
I AM THE TEACHER, PREACHER by OBrien, Robert

View all new Teacher Poems

The Best Teacher Poems

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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

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Newton's Law

I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.

Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer I started to flounder.

I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity" I said...and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.

The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".

At length I returned to my seat
With many applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.


Copyright © Nandita Das | Year Posted 2015

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Our Beloved Teacher

Our Beloved Teacher ( Sonnetina Rispetto) Torch of knowledge from you we take You hold our hands for our dreams sake Values and love we emulate Like dad and mom, you truly care We grow in your nurturing grace Your guidance gives us strength and faith Torch of knowledge from you we take You hold our hands for our dreams sake You look after us the whole day As we read, learn, dance, sing and play Values and love we emulate You guidance gives us strength and faith Torch of knowledge from you we take You hold our hands for our dreams sake
Copyright 2014 Leonora Galinta All Rights Reserved October. 28, 2014 4.35pm Second Place Contest: Sonnetina Rispetto Judged: 11/6/2014 Sponsor: Poet Dr. Ram Mehta


Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2014

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My Best Friend

I had nowhere to turn, had nowhere to go, this is just something ,I think you need to know! I don't know what made me trust you, I still remember the day, when I told what I had been through! I thought, I should jump off, or go hide in a hole, but then I followed whatever you told!
As each day grew longer, my trust became stronger! Each time I wanted to cry, you stayed there right by my side!
Then I moved to the twelfth grade, I was really afraid, that my trust would slowly fade, But I was very wrong, the bond is still strong!
Even Though you don't have time, you at least ask me if I am fine! You are just seen for a while,with your contagious smile! And then you walk away and you are out of sight, I smile and then things are alright!
I am so glad,that you were there when I was sad! You are the one on whom I can always depend, And this is what makes you...MY BEST FRIEND


Copyright © sakshi sitoot | Year Posted 2014

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A Golf lesson

Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”

He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.

Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.

These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”

“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”

His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and play the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.





 










Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

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having sex - footle

buck wild
rodeo style
_______________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 14, 2014!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

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School

Why does a child have to go to school?
Why do we have to spend so much time working?
This seems simply cruel.
Isn't it just irking?

Some people say school is important for learning
Couldn't a child learn on their own?
It would cause much less yearning,
After all, we can learn from our phones.

I can somewhat see a parents point in sending their child to school.
But why would you choose what we wear?
It just allows us to look like fools,
We may as well come to school bear.

As you can see school is not fair,
So please don’t force us to go if you care.


Copyright © Annika Johnson | Year Posted 2013

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Mother's Love

Mother’s Love (Sonnet)

Love begins at the time of conception
When a mother’s dear child grows in her womb.
Her life is changed to thoughts of protection.
Excitement and wonder of gender bloom.

This new little life will bring heightened joy.
A new baby is what dreams are made of.
It matters not if it’s a girl or boy,
Birth will bring happiness and so much love.

Teaching a sweet child as he or she grows
Is a most important tool used each day.
To teach how compassion and kindness flows,
As they emulate and do things our way.

A mother’s love, with every endeavor,
Is a gift to her children forever.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

Happy Mother’s Day to every Mother and Step-Mother and Grand Mother and 
G. Grand Mother. Happy Belated Mother's Day to those of you in countries 
where you have already celebrated Mother's Day.



Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014

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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

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THE PARENTS' ROLE

Blame
yourself for
the things your 
children say and do; 
they got them from your 
nasty looks, gestures and unkind words...
read them some stories from the Bible!
Mothers more than fathers should be their teachers;
no vile words they should speak, good manners count:
clean and obedient upbringing pave the way for future success,
discipline and behavior makes them stand out from other naughty kids!
All parents must play an important role in their children's lives,
if they do stupid things, correct them, not rebuke them;
nicknames aren't that funny and they will resent them,
have patience, teach them all the right ways
by allowing them to make some mistake!
Isn't perfection so hard to achieve?
Does that perfect one exist?
Human Nature has flaws, 
fall and rise:
glory is
yours!

Entered in Shadow Hamilton's contest,
" Double Reverse Etheree "
Written on 9/ 20/2014


Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014

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Future Picture

Paint me my teacher
A picture of my future
Tell me at this juncture
About My future
I will listen with rapture
You my teacher
Show me every feature
Of my future.

spread me my teacher
the wings to my future
Make me learn
what my efforts will return
Hold my hand
Guide me and
let me walk the path
My life is worth.

Show me my teacher
what is stored in my future
show me the beauty
of my future duty
Then I will paint
a picture with no stain
A future perfect picture.

show me my teacher
the colors to paint my future
I will paint a doctor picture
Or paint a lawyer picture
I will paint my perfect future picture
with the colors from you my teacher
Help me paint my future
My respected teacher.


Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2014

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Weird Carolyn

Weird Carolyn

The other cheerleaders didn’t like football
Basketball was much easier to follow
But I got bored watching them dribble the ball
My response was hard for others to swallow

Growing up I didn’t have too many toys
So I had to find my own entertainment
I became a master of animal noise
When I “croaked” on the bleachers strange looks were sent

My frog impersonations left them aghast
When I did my seagull, the team stopped playing
They stared at me oddly as though I’d passed gas
They couldn’t relate to talents displaying

This was the first thing that led to my nickname
But once in class I was asked to give a speech
The teacher was writing, so bold I became
Her attention I was trying to beseech

Being a contortionist since childhood days
Locked one leg and arm, looked like a flamingo
I perched on one foot for each eloquent phrase
The teacher looked up and called me a weirdo

The class agreed and “weird Carolyn” was born
Frequently called upon to put on a show
Much laughter I bestowed, accolades adorned
Never understood why I didn’t have a beau



*Entry for Francine’s “Tell us something we didn’t know” contest.  Okay, the secret's 
out and I'm ready for my punishment.  At high school reunions I'm still called upon to 
perform.


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

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And People Ask Why I Don't Take a Class

My vacant stare was sure to be 
a giveaway to anyone that saw . . .
I was a Pilgrim there to the land of techno-jargon,
of icons, Help instructions meaning nothing,
and a world of young and savvy operators.
Our teacher wasn’t there. 
Certain that the worksheet explaining all the basics
would be a breeze for us to carry out,
he’d arrogantly left the room
and left the lot of us to the mercy of
a keyboard and computer.

I looked up from his worksheet 
to a screen that stared right back at me,
awaiting my commands.
I was on the starting path to what is often called
the Super Highway, 
and my boarding pass, tuition to the class,
was non-refundable.
Overwhelmed, I started out.  Then I hit a rut
and didn’t have a clue what next to do.
My learning peers already seemed to know
the route quite well. 
Some, in fact, were calling it a day
while I stayed on, ashamed to bother
any of the others there for help.

I looked around the room, my tired brain
a hot plate in the midst of younger minds
with the speed of ovens made for microwave.
Perhaps they’d all conspired to put 
the older lady at unease.
It seemed the more I tried to understand,
the more pathetically off course I’d go. . . 
Till finally (longing for a time when 
“cut and paste” implied the use of scissors),
I got up from my seat and left behind
the self-instructing worksheet which
that egghead teacher said would be “a cinch.” 
Two big words were scrawled across the top
of its first page, two big words in red,
written with the one tool I could trust: 
SCREW IT. 


For Natalie Whitlock's 
"Talkin' Technology" Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011

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The Lost


                                                Innocent lifeless
                                       Pretty children rest in peace
                                             Let us pray for them

                                            The kids were victims
                                       The shooter was victim too
                                             Let's not put a blame

                                                 Exclamation sign
                                          Love family, love it right
                                        Don't loose, hug them tight

                                                  Dear educators
                                           Part of the victims as well
                                               The lifetime tribute

                                           Mourn traveled the world
                                         Burn by cause last on effect
                                               Careful in our steps

Author's Note:
Deep condolance for the victims of Sandy Hook School in Newtown, Connecticut,
Inspired by Zamalea George Poetry "Sweet Children, Sleep"
*****************************************************************
4th place
poetry soup VIGIL" Free Poetry Contest 
Sponsor	SKAT- AB SIN THE-


Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2012

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Owl's Requiem

The rising sun has set.
Night has fallen.
The plow rests,
tillage and toil finished.
The corn ear withers,
but seeds are saved.
The scrolls are opened
event recorded;
the news spread:
"The sun has set,
the old Owl has flown
into the Heavens."

Yet, the sun will rise
and peek over the horizon,
the tractor will roar,
a new crop will sprout,
Green hands will turn brown
the flag will wave,
financial accounts recorded,
hospitality offered,
and the light of brotherhood shared.

Your torch has lit fires
that flicker and flame;
The fledgling will grow
and, hopefully, become wise;
New eras and life-chapters
will begin, 
continuing the credo
as a Legacy to you:
"Learning to Do, 
Doing to Learn,
Earning to Live, 
Living to Serve."*


*National FFA Organization Motto


Copyright © Jaycee Cervenka | Year Posted 2015

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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

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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

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Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Actions Speak Louder Than Words


Actions versus words
Actions speak louder
Louder is figurative
Louder is expressive
Figurative language is effective
Figurative does not truly speak
Effective is deeply important
Effective is walking the talk
Important lessons must be demonstrated
Important lessons show you don’t tell you
Demonstrated lessons are shown like an exhibit
Demonstrated lessons than may be emulated
Exhibits can be observed
Exhibits are seen not heard
Observed actions are watched
Observed actions trump words
Watched love is full of verbs
Watched love shows it is an action word
Verbs are action words 
Verbs help one’s mind create mental pictures
Words alone are soon forgotten
Words are remembered when taught with an action
Mental pictures formed in one’s brain
Mental pictures are recalled simpler than jargon
Brain stores memories
Brain loses words
Memories are potent tools
Memories recall meaning
Tools seen in use is vital 
Tools talked about remain idle
Vital is performance
Vital is activity
Performance is an execution 
Performance is a rendition
Execution creates stimuli
Execution shows not tells
Stimuli create neuron connections
Stimuli causes better recall
Connections boost like a catalyst
Connections fuel memory
Catalyst spark visuals
Catalyst evoke images
Visual aids are useful to teachers
Visual images are appealingly vivid
Teachers must display good character
Teachers may not just define it
Character is taught by example
Character in not lexically learned
Example set is learned in action ~
Example cannot be set with words


For Silent One’s Cliché Contest
3/28/2016


Copyright © jill spagnola | Year Posted 2016

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The Priest with Spirited Eyes

The Priest with Spirited Eyes


Heart sees tender giving in those spirited eyes,-
  Shared love given to those with great need!
   Comforting hearts that hurt but don't bleed,
 With love spent in helping as precious time flies

Your healing gently washes away so many lies,
   Mercy prevails as you plant that seed;-
Heart sees tender giving in those spirited eyes,
   Shared love given to those with great need!

As welcomed as are rain clouds in desert skies
   Healing those victims with kindness and speed!
   Hearts mended, imprisoned Souls quickly freed,
With tender mercies prevailing and joy in the cries,
Heart sees tender giving in those spirited eyes.

Robert J. Lindley, 07/13/2014

Sponsor Debbie Guzzi 
Contest Name - Random Acts of Kindness 

Rondel
A French form consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains and a quintet,
 rhyming as follows: ABba abAB abbaA. The capital letters are the 
refrains, or repeats.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

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Short Stuff

You were always happy, always on the move
with a great zest for life and a heart full of love.

We loved you too and checked to see if you’d get mad
if we mimicked your habits, but you laughed instead.

When we were in school together, you often horsed around;
I ribbed you about eye trouble, eyes too close to the ground. 

You lived life with gusto, knowing your time was short;
playing hard, working harder, often with a jolly retort.

Honest to a fault, you saw the positive side of things;
kept things in order, solid rock with no mood swings.

Cut off jeans, gray tee shirt, tinted glasses, baseball hat;
great big grin, teasing quip, a big hello, a friendly chat.

You were the best teacher any student ever had;
I could call on you to help as though you were my dad.

You drove my school bus on many a winter morn;
dressed in brown coveralls, bottom legs frayed and worn.

You were there in summer, helping coach baseball games;
at football with your camera or turning cartwheels in the gym.

You taught us how to care, how to study, how to play;
how to work on the computer and make the most of every day.

So determined to learn, spending hours at a throw;
self-teaching all the things a teacher needed to know.

You are the poem of my life, who you were tells the tale;
your poem will last forever, healing memories never pale.

You wrote the words of this poem, pages of my life tell the story;
you will read them back to me, when we meet again in glory.


Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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Cindy Had A Little Bird

Cindy had a little Bird, 
Little Bird, little Bird, 
Cindy had a little Bird, 
Its feathers were yellow as the sun

And everywhere that Cindy went, 
Cindy went, Cindy went, 
Everywhere that Cindy went
The Bird was sure to go

It followed her to school one day
School one day, school one day
It followed her to school one day
Which was against the rules.

It made the children laugh and play,
Laugh and play, laugh and play,
It made the children laugh and play
To see a Bird at school

And so the teacher turned it out,
Turned it out, turned it out,
And so the teacher turned it out,
But still it lingered near

And waited patiently about,
Patiently about, patiently about,
And waited patiently about
Till Cindy did appear

"Why does the Bird love Cindy so?"
Love Cindy so? Love Cindy so?
"Why does the Bird love Cindy so?"
The eager children cried

"Why, Cindy loves the Bird, you know."
Loves the Bird, you know, loves the Bird, you know
"Why, Cindy loves the Bird, you know."
The teacher did reply


Copyright © John Long | Year Posted 2007

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What Would You Think

A Note to Kenny 
A Gifted Young Man and Student
“WHAT WOULD YOU THINK”

If you saw
A caged bird without a beak
Or heard a deaf song
From a parakeet?
A gazelle that could not run
A midnight black morning 
Without the sun
A mother that refuses to hear
The sobs of her daughter saying
“Mother Dear,
Please…”

It would be tragic indeed.
Only one other tragedy could compare. 
That of seeing a 
talented
black young man
refuse to declare.
Make known to the world,
“I am here…”

Yes tragic indeed,
to see an intellect
that we couldn’t even forget
Because it was never 
used 
to remember.
Can such a curse be forgiven?
It would be my sin
to see this wrong and remain 
silent.

So in this poem I yell!
Plead with the black young man

“Do tell!”

You with something to find

Seek…

You with something to stand

Be…

You with something to say

Speak…

 While there is still time
Make up your mind

And shine…



Copyright © Tyshawn Knight | Year Posted 2014

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Mr Moore

 tercet 

Mr. Moore taught us English lit
but more important than that,
he taught us how to use our wit.

He willed us to go way beneath
the surface and there discover
treasures hidden under the heath.

He urged us all to cast our lines
way far out into our waters,
waters of thought, we could refine.

We found Truth was for Mr. Moore
like a shield or coat of armor.
These well-known words tacked to his door -

"Above all, To thine own self be true."
Then, does it really matter much
what others choose to say or do?

Virtue we came to realize
exists in the mind of the man -
his character without disguise.

Reason A. Poteet
for Contest - Sketch a Character, gautami phookan
16 Oct 2014


Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2014

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Life is nice

Life is nice 
When god is mine
When god is mine my mom is fine
She makes me shine
My dear is father
Like my mother 
I have my brother in my troubles 
We have each other
I love my friends in any place
Finale the best teacher in every where
So
I found my best with you sir ((my teacher))
Now I think 
I have to say thank you sir 
At last my god who gave me life 
Excuse me god 
I love you god
..........


Copyright © mohamad erfan givehchi | Year Posted 2015

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Binary Love

One is love, 
Two is everything else. 




Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016