Best Education Poems

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

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New Education Poems

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

Overpass Education by Rigoler, Maurice
Restoring Cooperatively Owned Education by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Why MultiCultural Education Matters by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Costly Education by Connell, Carol
A Graduate Education by Wilson, Corine
PolyCulturing Education by Dillenbeck, Gerald
The Education Degradation of a Megalomaniac by Olson, Richard
Education of the Child by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
The Cost of Education by Drug, Graphite
Education is the liberator from poverty by Tshabalala , Ndzalama

View all new Education Poems

The Best Education Poems

 
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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.


Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009

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Shattering Rose Glasses

Uncomplicated me
I thought I was coloured blind
free thinking and kind
with an evolved mind
Loving and accepting 
of the ones I find

Yet my blindness 
Is that of privilege
I'm just a visitor
in the Global village
From my narrow thin mind
there is too much spillage

Although so many
are forced from their homes
My life seems carefree 
I am deaf to the groans
Brown women wearing veils
that can't protect them from stones

I live in a white washed place
No "Freedom Marches"
for men of a different race
Yet, if I look back and trace
there are darker stories to face
We all took part in shameful things
Yes, we share in the disgrace.

Highways of tears
Rivers of shame
There's always 
someone else to blame
Residential schools
Each child got a new name
They were forced to forget
the place from where they came

Prisons filled
with black and red skinned men
They can't forget
this now or that then
Promises and promises
but who how and when
Or will their children
have to live it all over again

So yes
No longer colour blind
With the opening of my mind
I let colour seep in
Starting somewhere different
today I  begin
Because I know
it shouldn't be
just the privileged who win!

For SKAT's premiere contest.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016



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Mathematics

Mental stretching, the required sacrifice
Addition, subtraction, multiplication and division
To all exercises, these four are the basics
Hell on paper but sweet in its understanding
Equations and formula, serving as raw products
Mastering the existence of numbers to gain its wisdom
Arithmetics also in a graphical representation
Then its technicalities in shapes and planes
Into life's activities, these applications silently integrate
Calculation of numbers and expressions
Sum up all problems via solutions to an answer.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016

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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


Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010

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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


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009

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Word Squirrel

Rodents can be loquacious
That includes your average gerbil
They love to prattle, chat and blather
They really are quite verbal

Hamsters are talkative too
Just as garrulous as can be
With running mouth and wheel to match
They are a sight to see

But I am loath to squander words
Sparing usage is my way
I gather them like so many acorns
Against a rainy day

Yes, word collecting is the passion
Of this precocious squirrel
I garner adjectives, verbs and nouns
Be they singular or plural

The park is fecund land
There a plethora may be found
Vociferous, vehement and vex
I lately scooped up off the ground

The verb tree is prolific
Its discovery quite a boon
The other day it bestowed upon me
Flaunt, foster and festoon

All along the sidewalks
Concrete nouns lie strewn about
How blithely I did snatch up
A lummox, a laggard and a lout

To command a better view
I nimbly scampered up a pole
From this lofty perch I spotted
Wheedle, coax and cajole

Away in the distance
I spied a tempting pile
Heaped up for the taking were
Enticing, alluring and beguile

What do I with so much verbiage?
You would be fair to ask
Squirreling away so vast a lexicon
Must prove a mammoth task

The answer lies in my arboreal abode
Where these many words I stash
In alphabetical order they are arrayed
From zealous to abash

In a capricious mood one day
I grouped them by part of speech
Such a cacophony arose from clustering
Banter, badger and beseech

No matter how I sort them
The wasting of words I spurn
Reserved for rarest use I keep
Reticent, laconic and taciturn!

_________________________________

by Brian McClain - Feb 17, 2016


Originally posted Feb 17, 2016
Accidentally deleted Feb 22, 2016
Reposted Feb 22, 2016


Copyright © Brian McClain | Year Posted 2016

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I Did It My Way

I Did It My Way
I did it my way, not for the applause but because, failure was not an option and I became a rebel with a cause. I wanted higher education and was told I couldn’t have it all, so I had to prove them wrong even if I had to creep or crawl.
I was accused of having a stubborn streak, just because I wasn’t mild and meek. Challenging every obstacle placed in my way, and all the negative things that people had to say.
In spite of all the “You can’t do that,” that I was told, I stubbornly did it my way and confidently smashed the mold. Marching to a different drummer and dancing to my own tunes, I kept my eyes on the prize ignoring all the nay-saying buffoons.
To keep on track, I learned to juggle tasks knowing I wouldn’t be derailed. To keep my ducks in a row, I learned to haggle knowing I wouldn’t fail. With dedication and hard work, as sure as night follows day, success was mine because I certainly did it my way!
6-7-2014 - Submitted to contest “I Did It My Way” sponsored by Shadow Hamilton


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014

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STAMINA

           STAMINA

Nowhere near a force of nature
Challenging a source of nature

Building with the will to survive
A small measurement for those who strive

Lessons when it comes to strength
Multiplying the time found in length

Stop and learn the sound of weakness
Hard to find when one is relentless

Improving in a mental task
The answers are found when we ask

Stamina mania, you and I
To perform bravely in all we do

pump for long
yet never strong

Learn when ideas seem to fail
The wrong action is to bail

Thinking, thinking what could it be
Will not solve the problem between you and me

Practice is  the best energy
Memorize it-- stamina will come naturally

 
                    SKAT
                   6-29-10


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010

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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!


Copyright © Janette Fisher | Year Posted 2009

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Make It Count

line count and word number are equal in this selection....

"Make It Count"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

A
Man may
Come to play
But if you say
Oh no baby, not today
Do you think he would stay
Or would he go so far away
In search of another lover he could lay
Doing everything associated with rolling in that infamous hay
And if push came to shove, maybe he would pay
To relieve all the stress stemming from your hips' distant sway
Because something must give, there are more than fifty shades of gray
That's common knowledge to the freaks and all those upon which they prey
And once you learn them all, I promise your lover will never ever stray
But if you miss just a single one, then you may experience that dreadful day
Where you lose it all so try to find True Love and remember to always Pray


Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

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The Wonderful Journey Of The Butterfly

This beautiful journey begins
From a courtship routine
The male perch themselves on leaves
And create a glorious scene
Waiting for a female 
Just to fly on by
Now he has his chance
But, she’ll be the one to decide



The male needs to find out
Whether she’s been fertilised
If she’s already pregnant
He’s soon going to realise
She’ll release a powerful chemical
Which is called ‘pheromone ‘
That tells him she’s unavailable
So he might have to fly and roam



Soon after they have mated
She looks for a place to lay
Laying her tiny eggs
Mostly oval in shape
She can lay two hundred or more
Just in a single day
But she needs to find a milkweed
On this beautiful sun spring day



The tiny little caterpillars
Start to grow inside
Eggs no bigger that a pin heads
And thats no word of a lie
They feed on the milkweed
And the enzymes in the egg
Until these little caterpillars
Start growing up really big



Now when they hatch
From their eggs
They will eat and eat and eat
Eating up everything
Of those milkweed leaves
They will start expanding
Getting bigger and bigger
Shedding their skin several times
Now that is really clever



Then they just stop eating
And know their time has come
For their stunning transformation
Four stages have begun
They’re find a special twig or leaf
And hang them-selves upside down
Then spin a silky cocoon
Where they won’t be found



It’s called metamorphosis
Turned into a shiny chrysalis
Inside the caterpillars’ changing
Into a beautiful butterfly
It dissolves itself into a soup
That’s truly organised
Inside a process is taking place
It’s forming disc’s, a body, a face



This wonder of nature you can see
When they emerge victoriously
This transition takes some time
For the birth of an exquisite butterfly
One of nature’s beautiful scenes
Celebrating new birth in spring
The reproduction of a butterfly
A remarkable cycle, that does not die




© Copyright KC.Leake
6th April 2015
All Rights Reserved




  


Copyright © kevin leake | Year Posted 2015

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The Simple Pen

            The Simple Pen

I am but a simple man with pen in hand
To cut open a slice of universe with verse
And with the ink
Let it bleed not red
It flows instead with mortal colors
Over a life well spent
What is left over
We drink this in a cup
Pour more to fill it up
But little at a time
Too much reality can cloud your mind
Said the simple man with bleeding pen

Entered in Tyshawn Knight's - "Advice for New Writers: Words of Wisdom in Verse" Poetry Contest on 6/02/15 
  

 


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

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The Man in the Wilderness

Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam

Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind

I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be

For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home

So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php


Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009

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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 good condition, would never become a chore
If you really wanted to, 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 am cool, 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  


Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

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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


Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2008

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Victim

I never wanted it to be this way, I never wanted to feel the pain. Bruises all over me. 
Invisible but I can see them.

You hurt me everywhere. My heart is shattered and the blood has frozen. But I won't be 
your victim.

Stare at me like this all you want. Try and hurt me with your words just as long as you 
don't use fists.

I don't ever want to be your victim. I refuse to be one of those few girls who end up 
losing their whole world.

Love isn't supposed to hurt, but maybe I was just naive because the moment I loved you my 
heart never stopped bleeding. 

I won't be your victim, I won't run away. If you have something to say I won't avoid it. 
I'm not scared I can take whatever you try to throw.

Don't hold back I promise you I will not cry. The moon is shining just like all the 
diamonds that you called pretend love I can't even imagine why I fell so hard.

It's never clear until the glass of water is gone. But now that you've gulped me to the 
last I want you to know I won't be your victim.

I kissed vulnerability goodbye the very last time I cried over you and I won't be your 
victim your not even worth it.

If you feel like you must shove a door in my butt but don't make me afraid because I 
don't want to be I don't want to be your victim. 

Let go of my hand so I can peacefully drive away if you want me to I can drive over you 
as well. But don't make it seem like i'm causing you pain because it's obvious to see 
that I've been a victim and it's a shame.

But I don't want to be it anymore then you so just let me go and I won't have to run. I 
promised you forever I laugh at this now you were never eternity love in my mind.

 I kept counting until the madness in ourselves would corrupt. Tears flash down my eyes 
as I speed down the lanes. Two bottles of Gin and I think i'm going insane.

It wasn't until I crashed into a tree that I realized I was never your victim I was 
merely your suicide mission. 


Copyright © Shahana Jackson | Year Posted 2005

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Grand Canyon

Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.


Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007

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MOLESTED

I was a bright, outgoing boy, who sat at the front of the class.
Then, one day that all changed, i feared to even raise my hand for a pass.

I had many close friends, loved sports and school plays.
Then on that day fear beset me, and long gone were those days.

I remember my school, i knew it inside and out.
But now i have blank spots, certain things i've shut out.

Thanks to God and His mercy, i don't recall that foul act.
But i know that it happened, no doubt, that's a fact.

Now, to the person who did this, i have nothing to say.
But, my God will remember, and He'll get you someday!


Copyright © stanley copley | Year Posted 2006

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Brief Encounter

brief encounter

a man invisible
but for his wit
landed on my world 
lightly it seemed 
until he left


Copyright © PATRICIA CRESSWELL | Year Posted 2017

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POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH



don't know if human's will ever see every soul born, is right where it's meant to be For the rich to become the richest there has to be a place for the poorest The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory I am to believe all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man he learn's the treasures, of everything he can Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of richness seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty as an illness Love start's from the soul, and from there it is taught to grow the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough Love, trust, compassion and grace defining the difference in richest and wealth t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key for his wealth is humanly uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...


Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

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I Didn't Do My Math Homework

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...


Copyright © Jacob Cra | Year Posted 2012

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All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.


Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014

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Get An Education

"The boy's got a broken brain!
- Fix him for me now,
I can't do a thing with him."

     - So I hear you say,
     Though he seems intelligent enough.

After all, he's smart enough 
To know the whys and wherefores
Of every deal that goes down on his street -
Every $ passing hands in the dark,
Summed and totalled in his head.
But Math - Forget it.
And you'll never see him crack a book for study's sake.

Perhap's that's because you broke his heart,
Long ago, though his face will never show it.
Because he bleeds inside,
Though to hear him talk you'd never know it.
You tore his shadoworld apart
Just by never being there -
You broke his proud red eggshell heart
Because he knows you never cared.

Perhaps this is why Rage is his religion,
And he only values Gain,
Why Payback is his Creed,
His only currency Pain.
This then is why he wears the shirt 
That reads, "Never Forget, Never Forgive";
This why he's unafraid to kill or die,
Yet terrified to live.

So go get an education -
 Start with a hard look at yourself -
You that schooled a nation
In the politics of Greed,
Builders of the conflagration
Of burning, unmet Need
Now threatening to consume us
As it climbs into the skies,
As it whispers warnings to us
From his vacant, coldstare eyes.

You broke his heart,
A wound more deep
Than I alone can mend,
I, just one beleaguered horseman.
Cannot set it right again.

You must help put things back together,
If you want our nightmares to end.


Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2008

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Eyes on Words

Eyes can feel the unseen 
Before it is verbalized and organised in pain
They seize innocent criminals that abuse letters 
Eyes of creativity don’t feel no pity
They endlessly seek traumatized emotions in numerous seasons

These eyes live in the back of every tongue rotation
These eyes pee tears like polluted rain drops 
Urinating deceases polluting the already sick tears 
They lecture life with pride
Eyelashes that endlessly spray hope in words with no doubt 

Eyes on words prefer no sun glasses but stanzas
They speak darkness in all artistic graphics
They visualize visions in brain map fantasies 
A place with more sins and judgments they visit
They speak non-rated missions

When the world is rude to you don’t be picky on dreams 
Dreams are never on vacation
These eyes can sense 
These eyes are like pens 

They are fans of disappointments while contribution stepladders 
It’s like a clan 
They reproduce stomach cramps using fertile words
The family of giving and receiving

Eyes on words speak in mute expressions
They build towers of tomorrow’s errors
Buildings that look down on problems
Eyes on words are like cold visions with no ice

© Raymond Ngomane 
 


Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2014

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IQ Test

I could care less about the four 
corners of insults, 
That intelligence invites; 
It is always the first straw of 
grass that’s grows, 
which reveals the popular outcast; 
As a youth, I found my image cut down 
into this manufactured silhouette.

Drenched in social rain, my peers 
had never found me more alienated, 
Then when I spoke fluently of diverse 
topics; 
They did everything in their power to provide 
a verbal umbrella, 
However, the texture remains weak and 
defeated.

This stormy parade that remains’ dripping is
indeed an afterthought, 
For within this cranial mansion resides 
additional rooms, 
For the more abstract and surreal 
elements of life; 
It is that secluded gland which reveals 
the renaissance of men, who wear 
infinite Fedoras.

Now wearing the shoes of a young 
man, 
A taste of charisma resides in my 
veins; 
However this slight addiction to external 
haze, 
Comes in second to my first drug of 
choice: Wisdom. 

Membership into this fraternity may take a lifetime; 
So don’t be surprised when resistance 
knocks at your door, 
Intimidated by the lion that dwells within 
your temple; 
Indeed intellect is the misunderstood 
fruit, 
That blossoms sweeter when accepted.


Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013