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Metaphor Teacher Poems | Metaphor Poems About Teacher

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

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Details | Verse |


One is love, 
Zero is everything else. 

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

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

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

The English Teacher

You are a metaphor in motion,a symphony conducted by the beating of my heart.
You entrance my soul,and it makes me a better person to love you. 
You are a simile surrounded by color themes, you shine. 
My rhetorical answer when i repremand my self with rhetorical questions. 
My analogy in a analytical essay composed by your kisses. 
Holding something so precious as a diamond in a rough,i am caught in you. 
Nothing as lovely as knowing you are with me always and forever. 
Holding my soul in your stare.
I love us,we,you loving me. 
You are verbs in action,followed by nouns and adjectives. 
You are every onomatopoeia i want to hear after leaving your touch. 
We are auditory imagery bound in conversations about life and love. 
You are the predicate and adverb to my declarative sentences. 
My english teacher in the language of love.

Copyright © Scharneka watson | Year Posted 2005

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Word Dynamic by Weston Gregory

The strength is often of things                                                                    
that's spoken
and word sound renews our hope.
There are direct relation to 
paths that's taken 
when we all heed what's discuss.

So, open your mind to a cosmic 
communicating and being determine
there is where you will always endear 
unique qualities of your yearning,
Transmitting symbiotically while                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              
helping other to find there footing.

What hasn't, isn't necessary never to be.
What dwell on us most though,
are the regrets of our past; misdeeds.
Where opportunity floss and love lost
find us grieving our doubted abilities,
but, natural gifts not sparing hits 
hold the place of not just an optimist;
in its rebirth a phoenix is more dynamic...

Copyright © Weston Gregory | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

What it means to Teach PART TWO

                Believing my brain, can be used for learning from higher, 
                       as I seek through speaking to my inner master,
                 Who’s broadcasting from the minds great Grandmaster, 

         To your 3D forecaster, your unconscious consciousness on this plain, 

                  Remaining ignorant if understanding is not ascertained, 

                      So read this, retain this and go inside and retrain,

                       I gain more through teaching myself from within,

                         At once, in real time, hitting with information,  

                      Programmed to the left and right sides of the brain,

                                       Then receiving stimulation, 
      through answers that mainstream mainly seems to believe is Imagination,

    I see it as a gift of vindication, a solution to uplift our actual beings evolution, 

           So I see teaching, as only being beneficial through this resolution,

        A deeper meaning, to teach knowingness of being student and teacher,  

                                     Just like ancient writings, 
        They have always said and been featured and highlighted in our days,
           And tomorrow,
                               Then the day after tomorrow, 
                                                                       And the day after that day,
                                              And so on,

            In many ways of comprehending this, “Be student and teacher”,  

                          Foolish individuals fall victim to short sight, 

                              But some can be taught from inside, 
                                                To reunite,
                             Go back and reread lines, all of them

    Then be prudent, anew and through growing from the True Light that teaches,
                Yourself to teach yourself as being the student and teacher,

                       It won’t reach anyone if you choose either either,

        Some select neither, are oblivious let alone observe anything serious,

                                      It shouldn’t be mysterious, 
      I recommend to strive, for where the real learning from teaching occurs.

Quincy Mac
Date Written: 12.6.2016

Copyright © Quincy Mac | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

The Stream

In my schooldays I had a stream to sit on its bank in cool air
Tender fingers moving in my hair with grace in the form fair

As I grew up the stream disappeared in order to make room
For the needs of her moving times with new stems and bloom

The other day an elderly lady called at my office with her team
At first I was taken aback and then kept looking at the stream

The same sparkle a little diffused in the eyes still lingers 
In my bald head I felt restlessness for the reassuring fingers

For some moments I was focused on my memory shred
Moist eyes looking in her face and blossom in purple and red
May 21, 2016
For: Last Line Prompt – 2 – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward

Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku |

He came in Class

He came in class
hole in dress, bone in mouth
learners hid faces

Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

a phobic means to an unending end

See me fast, feel me low, watch me strike
as I feel myself bottom blend slow into an aqeous blood slumber 
silk circulating all rotten terms as I fornunicate
the manicial social countermeasures I must employ
each day here on this Earth to stay unstillborn;vertical,
co-conscious and ever present,  I juxtapose 
this side of a recognizable happenstance glance of being human. 
A brain beacon of contorted body contours and ugly compromises  
compels my aimless, shiftless and pointless body careens 
into a coincidental Metamorphisis of battle with all elements that
ever-lastingly surround my supposed derivative surveillance 
ultimately leading to the judgement. None that of which I know.
I think, therefore I am? Do I even exist in this moment? am I a mistake?
Someone with a mindmeld accurate hold of our place in infinity once said these words. Am I Somebody?Anybody?Nobody? 
In my destination of holy conscious efforts in entertaining my fellow "sap"-iens; in negating their intrepid wrongness of their lifelong exposure 
to individual ineptiness, 
their PC psycho social stupidity, bending over to all of the "socialized anal-ities' that have been sorely intro-forced upon us through corporeal/parental punishment, and other sick f--k activities for infantile/racial/sexual/religious, and all other time capsuled compliances that keep us all under intelligent. 
I hereby label you as incompetents and Scumrags of the first order. 
Hopefully our evolution to greater beings, worthy of an exaltation, with the sanc-tity of our planet's life in the forefront of eternity, we will endure. 
You know who you are and what, to others, you have done. In the name of what?? Why? How come? Regrets? N/A.
In order for me to even look your way, I will need a viable Resume/Vita and Character references from you. I can then determine your "species" and favorability for open discussion. If u see me hitching, run me over, please.


Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

A good teacher is nectar to learners

a good teacher is nectar to learners
they sip honey from his brain in freedom
and construct knowledge, skills and values

a good teacher is nectar to  learners
the slow ones find good time to explore
and select petals to obtain mode for self-reliance

a good teacher is nectar to learners
fast learners peck hidden stigmas of creativity
and build special talents to transform the world

a good teacher is nectar to learners
individual learner scrambles for his colorful petals
to build dignity, self-esteem and self-actualization

a good nectar is nectar to learners
every learner mixes pollen grains and ovules
and cross pollinates the ovules of potentials within

the good teacher is as rare as a four-teat goat
but those who can teach congest streets of learning

Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2017