Best School Teacher Poems
My life as a grade school teacher
Is like a life-long student and schooler
Always working with colors, pens and papers
While taking care of kids as their second mother.
Still, I oftentimes sleep quite late at night
Check exams, plan learner’s lessons that delight
In the morning, I need to wake up early
To be at school before our flag ceremony.
As I impart my knowledge and skills
I learn a lot of things, head down to my heels
I learn to be more patient and understanding
More hardworking, very kind and loving.
I learn by experience, seminars and discovery
Embracing new teaching techniques and technology
Continue enhancing all my talents and creativity
In many areas, to teach my learners efficiently.
I’ve got so many other exciting multiple roles
Classroom maintenance, nurse, guidance counsellor
Dancer, singer, artist, director, actress or actor
A lot more, to mold and shape learner’s life and future.
I also play with my learners like a big kid
To promote relationship, inculcate values, I also read
Despite our emotional farewell on every graduation
They’ll always come, visit me in my school-roles repetition.
I believe, teacher has a schooler’s life that'll last
Only after a long journey loaded in a carabao's drawn cart
Grand graduation will come with unimaginable fulfillment
And achievement felt in the heart only on age of retirement.
Categories:
school teacher, teacher,
Form:
Rhyme
"I love my teacher."
"I have a great teacher."
"My teacher is super."
"My teacher's so cool."
These words are music to a teacher's ears,
Exactly what parents and administrators want to hear.
Yet what do they mean? How are they earned?
Are they related to learning? Or are we unconcerned?
"My teacher gives us tons of extra recess every day."
"Mine lets us cheat on quizzes and not make us pay."
"My teacher accepts papers copied from the Internet."
"Mine goes to casinos at nights and places big-money bets!"
Back in the day, teachers were strict.
We got away with nothing; they knew all our tricks.
And the classroom was quieter than a night in Grant's tomb;
They really knew how to keep order in a room.
The homework was ample, not one or two samples,
And the next day we had to solve all her examples.
Her quizzes and tests required voluminous reading,
And woe to the poor student whom she caught cheating!
We truly hated our teachers; we hated their guts.
We threw darts at their pictures and that kind of stuff.
Yet later in life we could hold an intelligent conversation.
And write a clear report, full of fact-based innovation.
We could dissect a frog; comprehend the periodic table;
Parse a sentence, and make a speech about Hamlet or Cain and Abel.
So next time your kid tells you, "My teacher's so cool."
Ask next what he or she's learning in school!
Categories:
school teacher, cool, education, school, teacher,
Form:
Rhyme
Tribute to Teachers - Constanza
Upon my soapbox I protest
that teachers schooling young and old,
be honored like they're made of gold.
How small in payment we invest
with expectations raised sky high,
still, underpaid we can't deny.
For educators, my request,
to legislate to change the laws
for student ratios just cause.
In government we do divest
to raise the bar in public schools;
give teachers much more needed tools
and raise all pay at their behest!
Without these changes I do fear
few will want a teaching career.
Upon my soapbox I protest
how small in payment we invest
For educators, my request,
In government we do divest
and raise all pay at their behest!
6-20-2018
A poem with a message ' Poetry Contest
Sponsor stephen pennell
Constanza Contest ~Second Place~
Sponsor Emile Pinet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Categories:
school teacher, children, school, teacher, teachers
Form:
Rhyme
The September I met him remains etched in my mind
One by one the minutes rolling by ever so slowly
I sat in class awaiting an explanation that never came
I surmised he’d been a burn victim ~ suffered and healed
How could he now sit there so serene and nonchalant
Over my inner spiel I hadn’t heard a word he said
So consumed was I in wait with my unanswered questions
Then spending the second half of class feeling stupid
Regretting the meddlesome monologue in my head
It was three hours of my life I would never get back
Really ~ how was it any of my business?
This was all way back in those pre-internet days
Before google searches easily unraveled any mystery
For weeks he never spoke about the elephant in the room
It boggled my mind why I expected he ever would
In a short time I became enchanted with this man’s soul
Respectfully in awe of this cultured learned gentle man
A poet possibly a genius ~ he was ordained to touch lives
To shake and rattle foundations ~ disentangle paradigms
A transcendent grace exuded from his every word and glance
AP: 1st place 2021
Posted on May 2, 2020
Categories:
school teacher, introspection, school, teacher, tribute,
Form:
Free verse
L ittle voices, rising in volume and pitch
I mploring teacher, begs all available aids to help pop
C oats, hats, muffs, mitts, sweaters, gloves, socks, shoes, and boots on 39
K indergarten urchins who are galloping around the room, or jumping on ball
chairs.
E veryone is excited; the snow is falling and
T he five-year-olds woke up screaming with excitement,
Y elling their head dendrites off, dancing and galloping
S ix ways to Sunday, and it’s only Tuesday,
P rincipal skates into the room, “Lickety Split!” she yells.
“L et’s all help, and get them out there quick!” The 2nd grade teacher sticks in
her head to hollar,
“I ce will be here within the hour. Everybody help.” A bunch of 4th and 5th
graders run in to help dress
t hem. Seconds later, the worn-out Kindergarten
Teacher throws out a magic lasso, and 39 kindergarteners all grab hold. The next minute, they
land in a big snow drift.
“Lickety, lickety, yickety, bickety, pickety, split!” they all yell, running away in every conceivable direction.
Written 4-9-2018 Contest: What I Like Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
Categories:
school teacher, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Acrostic
Know you are the absolute best,
The new kid has given a test.
You stayed calm cool, and collected,
So completely unaffected,
His childish behavior a test
We are watching you here at the school
Your resistance makes some of us drool.
He is almost on our last nerve,
Taking some around the last curve,
Yet, your calmness surrounds like a pool.
We implore you to please teach us your way,
It seems he is here and going to stay,
I think it is totally true,
Because his mother is new too,
His mother, superintendent, Miss Kay.
Categories:
school teacher, 8th grade, endurance, feelings,
Form:
Limerick
This baby is being born with hardly a belly button the angel declared.
Yes, this is a special one sent to a family who is kind and understanding
It is not every parent who can raise a child like this one thus the button lack.
He is on the spectrum? Yes, a rainbow child, someone overly unique.
I have never seen another one.
How long have you been doing this?
Sixteen years.
You might not see another one for another sixteen.
Truly!
These rainbow children are special beyond special.
Sent to teach life lessons and patience to parents and teachers.
Sent to show peers that people do not all have to think the same things.
Showing them that being passionate about one subject is all right.
Sometimes even desirable. This one loves trains; it all about trains for him.
Will his nursery be in trains?
No. His parents have not met him yet.
They are doing his room up in dinosaurs.
Will he like that too? No He will scream and wail about it.
Will they know to change it?
Someday as they learn.
This is why we send the rainbow children.
To teach the world.
The angel smiled at the baby, in awe.
Categories:
school teacher, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Prose Poetry
My heart sank, her buttery sweet voice
summoning me to the front of the class
I stood there chalk in hand, with my shoulders slumped
The question she asked, for the answer she already knew
She chose not to teach, but rather to embarrass me
I was not a welcome guest, Hallowed Halls of learning didn't seem to fit
I stared emotionless at a blackboard covered in white chalk dust
Laughter filled the room until I could shrink no further
Oh how I wished I could disappear, escape to my place of daydreams
Then the teacher called on one of her special ones
The girl with perfect clothing, a perfect smile, she was the apple of teachers eye
That favoured girl removed the chalk and burden from my hand
Red faced, I returned slowly to my place of shame
I sat there in my wooden desk, with my blue eyes turned down
Perfectly put in my place at the head of the class!
For FJ's "Jaw Dropping Contest"
Categories:
school teacher, emotions, school, teacher,
Form:
Free verse
I remember
so well
the friends
that I made
when childhood
was wrapped
in blue sky
but I cannot
remember
the last time
we played
- and whether
we all said
goodbye.
Categories:
school teacher, childhood, growing up, high
Form:
Rhyme
I have a constant itch upon my head
So I scratch it with my finger
At night I head upstairs to bed
But the itching continues to linger
I scratched my head till early morn
and I tossed and turned all night
My head was itching; I felt so forlorn
Something definitely wasn't quite right
I checked my hair and started screaming
When I discovered a little head louse
It’d laid its eggs when I was dreaming
I want to hide myself away in my house!
I lotion my scalp, damned nits are minuscule
Then I comb hundreds of eggs from my hair
Guess I’ve caught them from the kids at school
BUT I’M THEIR TEACHER – IT JUST ISN’T FAIR!
An Unwanted Guest Contest
Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Pure Fiction write .. but I can't stop itching since I wrote this!
02~22~17
Categories:
school teacher, body, humorous, insect, school,
Form:
Rhyme
I’ll never forget what's her name
She bought the teaching profession to shame
Humiliating me in front of the class
Her red ink comments always so crass!
This woman was a history teacher
but such a nasty vindictive creature
As a child right from the start
I was never much good at art
We all have our talents I know
And I did give the art work a go
But drawing is not my forte
And it let me down badly this day
The lesson filled me with fear
We were learning about Boudica
I attempted my best to draw
Yet this was the comment I saw
“Boudica did not fight Martians!”
She was poking fun at my expense
I left the classroom feeling so tense
So it was never a great mystery
When I didn’t opt to study history!
It’s been therapeutic to write
This poem to put over my plight
That a child should never be put down
By a teacher who acts like a clown!
*This is a true story and I only threw the book away when we moved house!!
Based on the English pronunciation of the name which is like bow-de-seer
I'LL NEVER FORGET WHAT'S HIS NAME (OR HER NAME) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
9/16/19
Categories:
school teacher, anxiety, art, school, teacher,
Form:
Rhyme
Charles Green was eight years old, and his father was a great teacher.
Yet, Charlie preferred playing to school; because he was a daydreamer.
The Greens lived in the town of Ivoria, where dahlias nodded greeting;
And Charlie frolicked with Sam and Scarlett, until sun came, bleeding.
Samuel and Scarlett were his siblings. Both got good grades in school;
Like gardens dyed in burgundy, red, orange, and gold, lovely as jewels.
Fantastic, flaming nights were not far, and gusts fitfully tossed flowers;
As good friends flattered the family with visits, like silver glazed hours.
Funny family rode for miles, to laugh jokes, or olden days, out of focus,
When fruitful summer was finally full-grown, and jade frogs visited lotus.
Charlie lived in the house of enlightenment, like a saffron sun, forever;
Where lilac breezes brought on awareness, in emerald days of whatever.
Soaring ravens owned the satin nights, when navy twilight was missed,
On Charlie's street of songbird serenade, and big moon, still sun kissed.
Formality was never necessary with neighbors, when they came calling;
In a pretty nation of nearsighted novelty, where aged time was crawling.
The touch of jazzy 'jade vines,' adored June, and monkey tail cacti leapt;
As 'jungle velvet dottie' posed pretty, and 'little baby dwarf kowha' wept.
'Alien egg succulents' waited an eternity, only for pleasure of being born;
And 'blue shrimp' plants swam sadly, like snows, as weather turns warm.
On his way to school, Charlie began to dawdle. Frogs were so much fun!
Like honey sunshine on the first rose, back when scents were first begun.
Charlie's lateness was fun for a time, as neither of his parents knew of it;
Then his teacher made him realize, that with learning, the sky's the limit!
She finished her talk with the following words, that haunted him forever;
And made him a better pupil and person, like all honest, fruitful endeavor:
'A diller, a dollar,
A ten o'clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock,
And now you come at noon.'
Categories:
school teacher, boy, fantasy, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Couplet
This is how a first grader’s day goes.
Six of them are at a table playing with Legos
Which is kind of the new less-messy playdough of today.
They are singing, of course, being happy.
“I’m building a house! I’m building a house!”
“Mine has a mouse! Mine has a mouse!”
“I have a rat in mine!”
“Hey, that is a rhyme!”
“Is not!”
“Is too.”
The competition is on.
“I have two rats in my house!”
“I have three rats in my house!”
“I have four rats in my house!”
The competition is on.
“I have five rats!”
“I have six rats!”
Always in order, for this is the first grade pattern.
Categories:
school teacher, school, teacher, teachers day,
Form:
Light Verse
PASS THE TRASH
Poem sure to sound familiar,
Catholic church scandal recall.
Pedophiles bounced just everywhere,
predator list … kept growing tall.
Clergy, priest but now teachers, are
problematic in school classes!
“Passing the Trash” school’s call this, some
schools blind … wear rose colored glasses?
“Pass Trash” numbers are sicking,
News mentioning five principals,
three assistants, two hundred and
ninety teachers … unthinkable!
Abusers hide in school systems,
best you check, your community.
Parents advised to document,
what child tells you … or what you see.
Documentation need, check see
something matches accusations.
Be diligent, keep abusers
away from our daughters … and sons.
July 25, 2023 copyright
Contest:1232
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
school teacher, child abuse, school, teacher,
Form:
Rhyme
Charley has taken his class hostage; he is seven.
His classmates are terrified of his out-of-control behaviors.
There is a perpetual glare on his face, he seems angry always.
He snarls and growls, sneers, and prowls around as they try
to do their work. His work is on the floor where he has thrown it.
or it is in the garbage can where he has crumpled or ripped it.
He punched an adult guest in the solar plexus last week in front
of his classmates, shocking them. The adult forgave him, saying it was
no big deal, but some of his peers are more afraid of him now.
In an effort to encourage him to be good, Charley is able to win
prizes for his good behaviors. He has won sixteen prizes
this week for following rules other children have always followed –
a prize for staying in class for ten minutes, a prize for not hitting anyone
for fifteen minutes, a prize for not destroying property for an hour.
We are incredulous that the Prize-Awarders can keep up with Charley’s prizes.
Charley is proud of his multitude of prizes, he flaunts them daily, in front
of the classmates he terrorizes minute by minute. He gets a prize if he does
not hit someone for an hour, and another prize for not breaking a windshield.
Other children in first grade who used to behave beautifully are now breaking
windshields, and punching adults.
No one can figure out why.
Categories:
school teacher, anti bullying, bullying, humor,
Form:
Prose Poetry