Best Funnyteacher Poems
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.
A young boy who’d been told often enough of the virtues of honesty,
Resolved to tread the same path even in difficulty.
He decided he’d never tell lie nor steal things,
Love all those around him, be they paupers or kings.
He knew the path he’d chosen was going to be tough,
And the journey he had initiated was going to be rough.
But his resolve was firm and his mind was set,
He wanted to find the truth in the advice that he’d never forget.
Saying so, he walked forth, never to turn back again,
To bear all that befell, sunshine or rain.
But how was he to know of the hardships to come,
For advices are not to be followed, only to be given by some.
The very next day at school, the teacher asked him a question he didn’t know,
He refused to cheat, even when proffered to so.
So he was beaten by his teacher for his ignorance,
But he bore his first reward of honesty with forbearance.
And later in the day when his teacher asked him if he had taught well,
He replied honestly, that he thought it was worse than hell.
The teacher was infuriated by his remark hence,
And he was beaten again for his insolence.
He uttered not a cry nor did he complain,
The path of righteousness was difficult to him it was plain.
When back at home his mother asked him how he’d fared at school that day,
His honest reply infuriated her straightaway.
So he was beaten once again,
The poor boy, his honesty did not go in vain.
And then, while playing his team decided to cheat,
But he was honest enough to point it out to the kids across the street.
Furious now his teammates told him to quit the field,
From their wrath, his honesty did not shield.
But the poor fellow bore it with courage and goodwill,
It was a small price for honesty, he decided still.
And when in the evening, he had guests at his place,
He honestly told them they’re a great nuisance on their face.
This remark annoyed his father no end,
And the poor fellow was grounded for the weekend.
All his agonies made him realise with tact,
That advices look good only in books is a fact.
This is a childhood story
story of my teacher's face,
so prominent in my memory
his dense bushy mustache.
Story of my teacher's face
covering half of his upper lip,
his dense bushy mustache
it was black,drooping and deep.
Covering half of his upper lip
a pleasant surprise for me,
it was black,drooping and deep
nesting a fly after his cup of tea.
A pleasant surprise for me
everyday at the same time,
nesting a fly after his cup of tea
sneaking frequently in my mind.
Everyday at the same time
the fly was used to be busy,
sneaking frequently in my mind
overlooking it was not so easy.
The fly was used to be busy
my teacher never felt its presence,
overlooking it was not so easy
for me it was a disturbance.
My teacher never felt its presence
the busy fly on his mustache,
for me it was a disturbance
I wanted to give it a thrash.
The busy fly on his mustache
so prominent in my memory,
I wanted to give it a thrash
this is a childhood story.
© kashinath karmakar (8th July 2011)
===========================
Think think!!!!
Think aloud she say's
while walking with a ruler
tapping each of us on the head
apples on our desk
Kids playing dead
Laying our faces on our desk
passing notes with my friend ted
But along in the window
came a beautiful hummingbird
a strange event nonetheless
an event which had never occurred
as my imagination wandered
teacher to me , became dead
silence feeled the room
I was at peace in my head
Then a tap on my shoulder
and an awkward stare from ted
My teacher stood over me
asking what in class was said
Not trying to lie or deny it
I simply said OK!!!
But to be honest I cant really think right now
At my head you've been tapping all day,
See I seemed to have suffered some memory loss
and for this I have you to blame!!!!
All these questions, you put in my face
are running to fast ,to fast to take
because my head, is in so much pain
I think I will go to the office today
My teacher said "NO!!! with that walk NO way"!!!
you just put your head down, and take an A for today
My teacher looked nervous
as she walked away
thinking to herself worried
"I might get fired today"
But in my little head
it was clear as day
I got her off my back
That's how I got all A's
: )
Form:
I want to be an Actor, My shyness has hampered me thus far
My Credentials however are worth looking at a STAR
To this day I remember my lines in the 6th Grade Play “King Lear”
“LOOK!! There He is now." For those of YOU who are not Actors
Please; It’s not as easy as it Looks, for instance it took nine weeks
To Perfect the Emotion it took to convey this simple Line
Take One : “LOOK THERE!! He is now, teacher ask What is Now
Take Two : “LOOK!! There he is, NOW, teacher “Is the Castle in shambles”
Take Three : look there HE IS now, teacher “What was he before
So when the day comes that a Great Producer picks up that 6th grade Program
I will speak my POETRY to YOU on the Silver Screen, no, Autographs until
The Sequel