Teacher, shall I write a sonnet? Must I?
When I’m not so sure of my poetry…
Shall I write a poem of fourteen lines?
In iambic pentameter –by me?
What shall I write about? What can I say?
In this sonnet which I must jot down now?
My sonnet should be about what today?
To write a great sonnet I’m not sure how…
Teacher, can I write this sonnet later
For I’m not sure of what to write about?
The teacher then takes my simple paper
And “you already did.” my teacher shouts.
‘Detention’ my teacher says, ‘for lying,’
‘But thank you,’ she adds, ‘for at least trying.’
© Mariam Mababaya.
Copyright © Mariam M. | Year Posted 2013
White board…names written hori-
To go pee…right when class starts –
THAT’S just wrong…
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!
Not using lunchtime to do
No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
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
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?
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
I give up
this is not happening
no matter what I do you--
that's just perfect
lets blame it all on me then shell we?
oh I need to calm down
I'm over reacting?
I'm not even raising my voice and I need to calm down
of Course because you are so---
no I'm not being mean
no this is not negotiable
I am not being mean
I can not handle stupid, oblivious,----
oh because I have learning issues I'm the one at fault?
that makes perfect since,
I just went up, and asked for them in the line at the super market did i?
umm...Mr. God sir can I have an ADHD apple and some anger issue socked berries?
don't do that,
Put the book away,
get off that tablet.
like I can really control it.
I'm not doing it on purpose
I do not wake up in the morning as say alright witch teacher can I piss off to day and what kid am I going to make cry?
hmm...lets see I pick Issac and Johnny-boy
Copyright © Rayne Thomas | Year Posted 2013
Here's some homework howlers,
By hilarious pupil terrors,
"An octopus has eight testicles."
Did I read that with my spectacles?
"Mozart sailed to Vietnam." For how long?
Why is there a clavichord in the Mekong?
"Rome is now in Africa." Do tell,
Didn't you learn map-reading too well?
"Mummy and Daddy's fave place is bed."
Do your parents really want this read?
Are these mud-coloured glasses, or what?
How did I survive teaching this lot?
It's hard to take them too serious,
Homework howlers, hilarious!
Copyright © Julie Grenness | Year Posted 2016
Imagine a king who has many
Servants staying at his palace
It would make no sense at all if those
Servants do not fulfill their purpose
Those servants were ordered to work
And to respect that king at all times
While the king gives them a place to stay
They should always make his palace shine
Any slave who does not work may
Eventually be kicked out soon
Any slave who works improperly
May likewise end up without a room
That king has a right to command
His slaves to sing lovely songs of him
To choose the number of times to wash
A staircase, because he is 'king'
That king has a right to command his
Slaves to do well to his family
To treat his close friends with respect
And welcome his guests cheerfully
To tell them not to touch this and that
To disallow them from certain rooms
To do what he commands them to do
As he is the owner who rules
So when Allah gives a command
A command that must be obeyed
You must obey Allah's Commandments
Or else you might get yourself astray
So if Allah commands you to pray
To Him, five prayers everyday
Don't ask 'why? ' Don't ask 'why five salahs? '
Just listen to God, and obey
God lets you walk on the earth He made
God gives you fresh air for you to breathe
God keeps the clouds above you floating
And gives you drink and food to eat
God gave you a brain with which to think
And still you ask 'why should you pray? '
We pray to Allah, the Mighty King
Who lets us live each night and day
When you're awake, when you're asleep
The air you breathe each night and day
What you inhale and what you exhale
Are some things from God which you don't pay
The ability to taste is a
Gift from God which many just ignore
Imagine if you could not taste the
Food you eat, eating would be a bore
You eat fruits and vegetables that God
Created, from plants that Allah made
You drink water which belongs to God
And yet you ask 'why must we pray? '
Copyright © Mariam M. | Year Posted 2013
Blunt bombastic poems, showing sanguinity of the soul,
through freedom of speech,
With craftsmanship, demonstrating natural poetic rhythm that will outreach,
These words prior to now, have been put into a rhyme, but are not all mine,
You know who you are, Far away and close, also…
What follows, is the answer to a question you have asked,
“What does it mean to teach”?
Most importantly, UNDERSTANDING is needed, giving access to higher abilities,
A biological facility,
with wisdom and caution when it comes to content you firmly want to present,
So to reach the best concepts, for me to eventually accept as accepted, in time,
Found within the subconscious,
the conscious mind is distracted by society, so it’s beached,
Stuck like a whale, unavailable to sail the whole ocean,
I explored this area in slow motion,
Once unaware of it, but now mindful so I continue to beseech it,
I’m not naturally a person who would write this,
I’ve rationally studied,
used conceptual techniques to tweak tactics that are not weak,
Continued in part two.................
Date Written: 12.6.2016
Copyright © Quincy Mac | Year Posted 2016
The Dead Essays
Today I wore all black
But there is no funeral procession.
So I just went to work and sat at my desk
Before piles of essays which need to be read,
A red pen in my hand -
Because I am old school
And the students can deal –
And it would seem that women
Of the mid 1900’s were being oppressed
And that is the reason they were all insane.
Yes, all of them. It is clearly stated in paragraphs two and three,
The introduction and the sad excuse for a conclusion
Which is hanging on at the end like some sort of cough.
And here it would seem the student forgot all syntactical purpose
And I am quite certain “When women were alone”
Is not a sentence, and yet it is punctuated as such,
A big fat period where there should only be a comma.
The chop, chop of simple sentences
And yet I am relieved because at the very least,
It is a sentence… no matter how misguided the idea.
Oh, and the idea because today women are equal to men
In every possible way, and I hope the tone is sarcastic, biting, a little ironic,
But no… it is not.
This child does not know to capitalize I
Let alone how to portray through language
A tone which is biting, satirical, humorous.
It would seem I am dressed appropriately after all.
Copyright © Rosann Fode | Year Posted 2014
I was told to write
But i didn't know what to say.
All i did was sit there,
all darn day.
My thoughts were all jumbled,
they made no since at all.
My teacher told us to write.
I said " i will be here until nightfall.
She told me to open my heart
to explore, search, and find,
that one thing that would make me write.
By now i had that one thing in mind.
So i sat there and wrote all hour.
I never missed a beat.
By the time my story was done
I knew that we would meet.
Soon but not soon enough
did my dreams finally come true.
And i can't wait for that day.
When i get to be with you.
Forever is a long time they say.
But don't they know.
You can spend for ever with a person,
and there will be things about them that you don't know.
How i wish for that day to come.
Hoping i will be with you.
I will stand by you forever,
knowing my dreams have come true.
So, i sat there and i looked at my paper,
looked at my teacher and said with all my might.
I should have never listened to myself,
when I said I couldn't write.
Copyright © Tessa Chinery | Year Posted 2012
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,
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,
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.
Date Written: 12.6.2016
Copyright © Quincy Mac | Year Posted 2016
To see cute faces
And their innocent sweet smiles
Wonderland it is
Angels to play with
To be playful is a must
Friendly is needed
Tell them how to show love
Singing, reading and counting
So thrilled when they laugh
It wasn’t my goal
But I’m inspired by pure souls
Teacher is I am
By: Dinda Minardi
Copyright © Dinda Minardi | Year Posted 2011
My Teacher... Life's Memory
by William P. Darnell Sr.
Being life to me....
life being to see....
Can you see,
she believed in me?
A shadow passed,
now standing there.
Marking place being,
once being of life....
that believed in me,
me for all things being,
she only to see in me?
Life being to see....
being life to me....
My, what a memory,
held in our hearts,
bonded from their start!
the fondest her being,
Being life to me,
life being to see.....
Life being in me....
Thank you, for helping me grow!
Thank you for your education to me.
Thank you for your inspiration in me.
By William P. Darnell Sr.
Copyright © William Darnell Sr. | Year Posted 2017
I wanted to be a writer
When I was just a young teen
But I was so incredibly shy
And kids can be so mean.
Then a new teacher came along.
He had such a different view.
I no longer felt embarrassed
By the writing that I'd do.
He made me feel I had a gift
And that it should be shared.
To him I admitted my hopes
And I felt that he really cared.
Mr. Sowden encouraged extra work,
To write about whatever we wanted.
So I wrote and wrote and wrote some more.
The words just flew, undaunted.
My grade ten English teacher
Read my work out loud
And winked when the class applauded,
For the first time I felt proud.
I never signed my real name.
The class didn't know it was me
But my work garnered admiration,
On display for all to see.
That was the year I learned that
What I wrote was pretty good.
I just needed time for confidence to grow
And that, Mr. Sowden, understood.
He made us see the written word
In a way that made us aware.
So I would like to thank him,
The English teacher who really did care.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010
I don’t understand the past tense.
Why is it that fight is fought?
And catch is caught when liked for like is right.
And what about sighted is that a past tense of sight?
The list is endless, and I spent hours amazed by all of it.
It was worse than a stinky sweaty work-out so I sweated!
Notice the t is pronounced so it’s Ted not “Ed” at the end of it.
But Ted and Ed sometimes have a rest when “En,” “O” and “A” led.
Yes, they led well, so that steal is not stealed but stolen or stole,
Then the A appeared when run is ran not runned.
The O was the big boy with write when he trumped wrote over writed.
I’m tired of this mess, so I’ll just let my ESL teacher do the word roll.
Copyright © Raj Napal | Year Posted 2016
The spider the first to deceive The untangled web in the tree A man, a beast, a spirit to teach A hero, an enemy or wisdom’s breach Just an elder’s story, to shape the youth shifting children’s minds to their view or a struggle between creator and the created A rabbit to chase or the raven’s stone berated The laughing coyote or wise as the fox they do change whisperers, skin walkers, wind talkers the stories remain wisdom coming from strange creatures, yet familiar visitors Be careful of what you have learned, that it is not a trick sir
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2015
Let thought be sure
he is your connoisseur;
Deploy emotion as umpire
when with letters, you toast.
And words will feast
with the bread of hire
you made of them.
Copyright © Ogaga Eruteya | Year Posted 2017
to take notes
from right to left.
Kind of quirky, huh?
I wanted to find out
why some people find it hard
to conquer cursive handwriting.
And how to make it much easier
by starting all over again myself.
Concentrating on letter formations,
I practice by taking notes at church
and I am getting really good.
The hardest problem being
I can't read what I write
without a mirror.
Just as children
written February 14, 2018
for contest: Quirks by Madison Demetros
"My real quirk is a love for kids with learning problems."
Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2018