Best School Days Poems
School Days!
By the Poets Listed After the Poem
Summer HOT fun filled days with plays and toys
Cease! And school begins for girls and for boys.
Holidays in the winter and the spring,
Outdoors sports: football, baseball and swim team.
Old friends and new friends are joined together.
Laughter and learning gifts of forever-
Ding. Dong. Ding. Go inside. It’s time to spell.
Arithmetic. Reading. Writing. DO TELL!
Youngsters when asked what they like to do best.
Simply answer, of course, “We love recess!”
Contributing Poets: (Listed in alphabetical order) Carol Brown, Deborah Guzzi, Carrie
Richards, Dane Smith-Johnsen, and
Sharon Weimer (We did it!)
A hot tear is burning my eye
For jolly school days start to fly
Leaving me lone in a dark way
And lovely friends will be away
Can my heart say goodbye?!
And let my soul about to die
Without you I'll be as hay
And to fast days an easy prey
I will miss you- the shining sky
With no help or even supply
Yet our school days will be my ray
That gives a hand on a dark day
Never I'll lose you-my eye
Nor your shine can I ever deny
Like boats we may sail away
But we will anchor in our home bay
Written by (Mr. Sherif)
With my best wishes
When I was a sophomore, I was in love with "Chemistry"
Just as soon as I fell, for the girl sitting right next to me
When I turned, junior, I hated "History"
Because as it turned out, she and I had two different "Philosophy"
But if you must know, I love "Math" the best
It was how I subtracted her out from all the rest
Although "English" was by far the most useful of all
Well, I mean, it’s kind of true next to "P.E" and basketball
"Physics" became a sort of breaking of the ice
Once I supplied her with an equation that’d made her, to look at me twice
As a senior, I sort of had fun with "Political-Science"
Sure enough, we got back together with only a little of her defiance
As for electives, I chose "Creative-writing" and, of course, "Art"
I drew her a picture and wrote her name in my heart
"Graduation" came and we were both happy and sad
As we reflected on every single moment we ever had
Then we held each other’s hand with words-said in limited supply
Because we knew, inevitably; we can only say goodbye, in a sigh!
By: Wilbert E. Dela Cruz
School bell rings play time
Skipping,Laughing, Chasing, Fun
Happy play, school days.
Period-wise, we used to arrange the bag,
Every book was covered and have a name tag,
Waking up early in morning, get ready to go,
May homework not done, but never were low.
In assembly, that anthemn, and prayer.
That going in queque like a disciplined mare,
Noise in class was like our birth right,
everything we do, was a height.
punishment from teacher was just a gift,
for communication through ends of classroom, require no rift,
Being OUT-Standing of class, more than being in,
Melodious, it seems for us, our noisy din.
No child was let to study in class,
No tension on face of future or marks.
That recess times cannot come back again,
for us adjectives were naughty and imsane,
That making new class love-stories,and mocking everyone,
Our only mission was from every day, may not learn anything but extract maximum fun.
Will never forget that playing in games period,
no tears were allowed, our rules were only laid.
Bell ringing aloud, Teacher has gone,
Student at back benches taking corn.
Oh!! I was sleeping and dreaming, I was in college,
Where classrooms are full of dirty gauge.
O God! Why i got elder so soon??
Missing my School days a lot, Which was for me, really a boon!!!
(and long brown stockings)
I detest these stockings,
they're coarse, brown and ugly.
I hate the garters more;
elastic circles that cut off
circulation and fail to halt
the laddering down my skinny legs.
If only . . . I picture myself
in warm jeans and no teasing
from Tommy Rogers.
I put the garters to better use,
roll the repulsive stockings
down around my ankles.
Tommy taunts,
"Who gave you
jointed toothpicks for legs?"
I lost it.
Now, Tommy has a black eye
and my nose is in the corner.
I think of days when I was young
Drinking in my school days fun
When playtime it would come around
Oh, so many friends I found
Then off I'd go to learn some more
Sometimes it really became a bore
I knew I had to learn their stuff
Though many times it could be tough
Reading, writing and arithmetic
Soon my mind began to tick
I did learn it all at last
Though my mind was not too fast
When time came to leave that school
Although I thought it was quite cool
It was so nice being free
And really, I liked to earn the money
There was a young teacher named Spade,
who taught like a preacher dismayed.
The pupil's delight
to put up a fight
did cause him to screech till he swayed.
Now one of the students named Chad,
then gathered what courage he had
to give Spade advice
and make him think twice
about his harsh method so bad.
They all were surprised the next day,
when Spade then allowed them to play.
He'd taken great heed,
was friendly indeed,
and all are still happy today.
It is always nostalgic to think of past,
Especially our school days granting from first.
When I look back at those days,
A smile automatically comes to my face.
As far as my classes are concerned,
I am not among the brightest student turned.
But the teachers never differentiate among the student,
Rather they encourage weaker student's.
But, I can certainly tell you that,
I see myself in a cowboy hat.
As no one in this world is completely happy,
But intensity of happiness from person to person may vary.
School day memories,
Were Maths and literacy,
Did compound interest, you see,
Before decimal currency,
Had no calculators,
Used our brains, good for later!
At school I must have been naive,
for I was told I must achieve.
Add up, subtract even divide,
equations, algebra must be tried,
Nouns, verbs I had to learn,
adjectives were my concern.
In French we should pronounce our ‘R’s’
By making gargling sounds that purrs!
In geography I learnt of places,
of different people with different faces.
In science the Bunsen Burner reigned,
‘twas Latin though I mostly feigned.
We had PE and sports of course,
but rugby I wanted to divorce,
where Neanderthals often preyed
on smaller boys just too afraid.
Health and Safety didn’t figure,
in playground games revered with vigour.
Conker’s, marbles, a cricket ball,
never ever mattered at all.
We went to school in spite the weather,
wasn’t shut for snowfalls ever!
You ate your lunch despite the taste,
for we were not allowed to waste!
Teachers parade in a black cape,
to which there was just no escape.
Lining up where nothing’s spoken,
the fear meant no silence broken.
We enter class in silence thus
or *caned if you dare make a fuss.
I’m older now, in later years,
I’m not deranged, I fought those fears.
I must admit I wouldn’t swap
my school days for this modern lot,
Where mobile phones now reign supreme,
No thanks I wouldn’t be that keen
* caned was a corporal punishment
It was like yesterday
When I exactly made
The best of your life.
Today is the day!
I’m about to say goodbye.
Those gentle words
I’ll surely treasure
Infinity thought,
My solemn vow,
Will do last forever.
I’d like to grab
The chance of grace
To express my gratitude,
With all of my hear,
Till the time of His day.
Say you will keep
The words that I said.
Then we’ll wait for the day,
When you’re all grown up,
To remember the school days.
Anne Frank, a little girl
smart, beautiful and witty
on her thirteenth birthday
got, as gift, a small notebook
she promptly named Kitty.
Kitty soon became a friend
dear and close;
with it Anne shared
the secrets of her heart
her joys and woes.
Showcased in her diary
were events, children, women and men
drawn from school or home,
donning a charming aura
woven by the magic of Anne's pen.
Mom, Dad and elder sister Margot
were subjects of Anne's affections.
She also wrote feelingly about
friends at school, including
the adoring boys and their attentions.
Immortalised by her writing
is Keptor the math master
who gave her, as punishment
the task of writing about 'A Chatterbox'
irked as he was by her constant chatter.
A ***** topic, it stimulated Anne's craft.
She cleverly justified her talking
in full three pages
terming it a feminine trait.
Keptor could not help laughing.
Followed 'Incurable Chatterbox'
as the next assignment.
With this duly completed,
peace prevailed, just for a time
as Anne failed to repent.
His pupil still chattering
Keptor's patience could not last.
He ordered her to write on
'Quack, quack, quack, says Mrs Natterbeak'
sending laughter through the class.
Not to be daunted
Anne took up the task anon.
She wrote in verse about a swan
who bit to death his three ducklings
because they talked on and on.
Impressed by the satire
Keptor joked about the verse
in all his classes, reading it to them.
To Anne's talking
he was no longer averse.
School days 2
Up in the morning, I due dread.
Running and screaming I hear in bed.
Back to school what a joy.
Reading, writing and no toys.
The roar of buses I hear them come.
Schools days prepare to begin.
Buses here and buses there.
When is the buses going to end?
I hear someone one shout "is it summer yet"
And It's the first day of school.
School days
The elastic energy of my ears were increasing
When the teacher was pulling my ears
This was connected later to the earth
When I was doing up and down touching my ears
There was an expansion on my anger
And exponential decay of my knowledge
The faster diffusion of C6H12O6
And I was being pulled down by the gravity
His theory said he was trying to change
The electron that I am to proton that we all should be
But I knew I was an element that
Cannot be broken down by any chemicals
Knowledge is everything he said,
His knowledge was gigantic
You bloody fools you knowledge is in billion X micron's
Even electron microscope cannot see
I can't find the latent heat, to change your mind
I know that an object remains at rest or in uniform motion
Unless acted up on by external force
I can't change the damn object that you are
You are disgrace to the law
You'll learn on your way to ontogeny
The physiology of life
The world is a vast sea to live and
You are nothing but mere plankton
That day will come when you metamorphose
Into adult from puparium
He used to talk about some kind of symbiosis crap
And I used to press my phalanges against my pinna
You are nothing but a pathogenic micro organism
For which the antibiotics can never be found
You are a parasite and this world is a host
Your friends are like the rotten potato
That creates a chain reaction
We must pour some alcoholic KOH on you
Also perform dehydrohalogenation
Your brains were made chloroform by god
But you have turned them into phosgene
Your brain is fermented by sacchromyces
The fresh water that you were born is dying
As a pure distillation of C2H5OH
The qualitative and quantitative analysis
On you will result as a major disaster
You deoxyribose sugar must really code you to be a liar
Dear fool child your solubility product must be really higher