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.
"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!
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
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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 2026, 1st place 2021
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"
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
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
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.'
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.
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
my laugh raises hair on people’s necks
it is not petite, polite, refined, or subtle.
it is a throwback to your hillbilly ancestral
caveman’s outrageously loud and ugly laugh.
when it happens, it is as if the bowels of my
inner crazy is released after 4,000 years in
a dutch oven.
I forgot how loud it was when I picked up three
boys for a little “hey, let’s learn this board game”
session in the hallway where teachers’ classes are
trying to work.
One of the teachers said, “Mrs. K, the kids wondered
where all that laughing was coming from, but I knew.”
I started to apologize, and she said, “I love hearing it.
I loved it; I truly did. Do not apologize!”
I heard later that a rude teacher, who is always dour
wanted me to apologize. I had already tried, right?
Sweetest child in the school
5th grade
Giant puppy
If you said the sweetest kid ever
I could name him
And I would
Cry Cry Cry
I feel horrible.
Bring him to my office
Who hurt him?
What did they say?
What did they do?
In Mama Bear mode
I am going to take no prisoners
They can lie in cages eating wallpaper
And will want to after I get finished with them
Many tears later I discover
The trickster told him that he said that they said that he said that she said.
I am horrified.
I have taught six million lessons on
Not being stirred up by he-said-she-said nonsense
We discuss my lessons
Which he forgot in the heat of the moment
I know the instigator. He is a piece of work.
Can stir faster than me even, and I am pretty good at it.
Finally change subject
What will he do tonight for fun?
He finally says play ball.
A bit of a smile
Tears start
Then tears up again.
His bat is lost.
Wait a second, I say.
In the house?
Head nod.
It has to be under
something long, a bed
or a couch right?
He is stymied
Not sure now what
emotion to feel
“Do you mean I am going to have
to come to your house tonight and find our bat?”
He gives me directions and his address.
I smile.
“And what would your mother say if an old woman
Came to your house to help you find our bat?”
He stares at me a long time.
“Thank you?” he whispers.
I love sweet supersensitive
Innocent 5th grade boys
Before they fall into
the clutches of the 21-year-old
6th grade girls.
Sparkling gold sequined top.
Glitzy shamrock necklace with twinkly silver chain.
Neon-green gemstone on one hand, pearl on the other.
Spider pin with a fat amber gemstone body and turquoise legs.
I threw on my multi-colored sparkly beads too, for good measure.
I want everyone to know I teach at a grade school.
Age three, crisscross apple sauce, hands in your lap.
Age five, scooting a few inches, to let whole class in.
Age twenty-three, fresh out of college, a brand new teacher,
Criss-cross applesauce in the circle with your kindergarteners.
Age thirty-four, sitting on chair, in crisscross circle with kids.
Age forty-four, attempt at crisscross on floor, kids snickering.
Age fifty-five, on chair again, in crisscross circle with kids.
Age sixty-eight, on floor, crisscross for thirty minutes.
Legs fall asleep, can barely stand. Would kick myself if I could.
No idea this was going to happen. Standing unsteadily,
Both feet asleep. One of the third graders comes over and hugs me.
Thanks me for coming, and I cannot walk out the door yet.
Age does matter.
Shy, timid, quiet, bashful, meek
World is reserved for another geek.
Yes, I can fool them, that’s for sure,
Pretending to be all sweet and demure.
But then my real self kicks in.
I jump my desk, promptly begin.
Principal comes to make me stop.
A policeman comes and makes me drop.
They all say this with a gigantic frown.
You’re the teacher, now settle down!