Best Education) Poems
Many a year so far
a sweet sensation would within surge
as back to school season
has just begun..
The feelings of a child
eager and joyful
to pile notebooks, pencils and pens
excited to have them all in a schoolbag..
Even as a teacher
that sweet habit, that unique joy
got wild much more!
a deep conception
that a smile, a word
could change a world
a strong conviction
that teaching is a vocation
a mind trained to train
a heart able to see and comprehend
confused faces
gazing at you
seeking the secret of success!
day dreamers, untamed teens
aspiring to reach and own
the treasure within..
Many a year by this time
soul and whole
I would wonder
what would I utter
of words
willing to sow the seeds of passion
in virgin lands
to instill a love of learning
a deep sensitivity
to guide to goals
to cultivate creativity..
What would I teach of lessons
use of methods
to inspire young souls
and their imagination kindle!
Now I’m back to school
with a load on the heart
a sense of culpability
torn about what I should
and must do..
The world of teaching
a hallmark of my identity
leaving that part of me
a possibility
even a necessity..
My heart aches for the realm of poetry
the power of words
that translate my innermost emotions and reflections
their magic
that transcends what is ordinary..
I have a longing for
a sense of belonging to
the world of words
I am an avid reader and learner
with a passion for creative writing
and leaving a world
would not mean
ceasing to be..
Dream schemes play across the screen
And third eye examines them,
Ever so closely; tonight,
Another etheric flight;
Will show me new horizons
And the beings that dwell there;
The archetypes and images.
Scenes play out in colors,
Shadows weave their magic;
I am inundated.
Visiting spirits came,
Just to bid me adieu;
My guides know what I need.
Somewhere the light starts,
To glow; a pinpoint,
Growing as it moves
Toward each scene, shines;
Revealing wisdom.
A dream is an
Education;
Dream and wisdom
Will come to you.
Dreaming mind,
Subconscious,
Library.
Dream long
And deep;
Dream.
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!
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.
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
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
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
Intelligent Design
When there is evidence of intelligence,
there is an intelligent mind
From an intelligent mind comes thought
and purposeful design
Everything we see has been made,
has a purpose for it's existence
An intelligent mind accepts it
without any resistance.
Who is there who would say
a beautiful house had no maker?
That a wedding cake had no purpose
and there was no baker?
An automobile needs a designer,
engineer and an assembly line
A watch needs a watchmaker to exist,
to mark the passing time.
Why is it then with so much
evidence of design in nature
That an intelligent mind cannot comprehend
that we too have a maker?
Original write 2016
re-posted August 16,2020
John Derek Hamilton
Rachel’s birth brought early challenges
Surgery closed a hole in her heart
Learning disabilities discovered later
A “special” child, she pursued a regular education
But she was not regular
She learned to read a bit; could not do math
At age 30, Rachel asked why she couldn’t have children
She could, of course, but it was discouraged
Her mother’s only child would not give her grandchildren
So Rachel raises cats, several of them, for companionship
Felines brought up in a loving home
To Rachel, they are her daughters
Now her mother is getting older
She dreads the thought of Rachel placed in a group home
Rachel is still a child on Christmas and birthdays
But there is no one, no young living relatives, to step up
Her mother cries every night
In her 70s, she still works long hours
It is not knowing what will happen to Rachel
That prevents her mother from finding happiness
She prays God will help her daughter when she’s gone
It’s hard to say which of their lives is more challenging
Still, they press forward and grab every joy life offers
It is the only way
Imagine the unique problems children with disabilities face
They need our support and encouragement
Rachel gets these, but how many others do not?
*March 4, 2021
education
an equation
wrapped up
in
explanation
and
instruction
drifting lexis
to grow
personally
professionally
socially
and
develop
desire
to solve
problems
while trying
to cling
onto
your
u
n
s
p
o
o
l
i
n
g
m
i
n
d
?
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!
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!
06-07-2014
Contest: I Did It My Way
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placement: 1st
A whistling wheezing hamlet, whispering and emanating, tunes euphonic,
In a remote isolated valley, far-flung from the abode of the temporal,
Warbling quietly to whistle scads of tranquil cryptic songs;
Lying spasmodic, a sparsely inhabited mellifluous hamlet, Kongthong!
Not to hyperbole, a singing utopia, uncustomary to the core!
Where innate and mellow are the naive dwellers' rustic tinkling timbres!
A rover's riddle, the natives' pride, a unique heritage, their blissful strains!
Ringing with an ancient tradition of tune-giving in honour of the root ancestress,
Customary to the matrilineal surviving unknown folk of the thorp!
The chirping region's dispositions and practices outlandish, vague and obscure,
Primitive and bizarre, mere to merge with nature's absolute accord!
Voices buzzing in whistles, murmuring and chattering, lilting,
Arcane, pervading the virgin thicket of the sacred thorpe!
To entangle, passerby and wanderers in dream like metaphors!
Those magical murmurs in quirky tunes, mingling the breeze of the secluded hamlet, intoning own tinkles!
Blessed are the tuning terrain's offsprings, nameless!
Rared by ditties, hailed sacred by the clan's conviction!
Outlying, by the uninhabited enchanting wilderness of East Khasi Hills,
Sleeping quietly the untrodden, nature's lulling lullaby, the whistling Kongthong!
Yell! Immaculate and serene, the saga of their undeciphered airs, mumbling in exquisite ethos!
Inimitable and gripping to eye, how the denizens of the tribe,
Are crooning to dub and call each other by indigenous intonations!
Pitching and whooshing, to tune their melodic identities unique!
Whew! The picturesque terrain is tweeting, whooping, and whizzing!
Heaven! Bless anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
The ringing Kongthong, God's own whistling hamlet!
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
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