Best Teacher Poems
Thank you, Mr. Rogers (yes, his real name!)
for rescuing me from teenage purgatory.
Perplexed teenager, lacking social lumen
pulled C's in English, D's in History -
my dreadful retrograde trajectory
projected no collegiate acumen,
in prom discussions, practically subhuman!
Then, your poetical geometry
and sleek Cartesian choreography
became my sailing ship, and I, its crewman.
Derivatives soon danced in arcs non-static.
Pythagorean proofs helped me progress,
vectors resolved problems that once would vex.
Your agile algebra of joy quadratic:
my new hypotenuse of happiness
helped me to find myself... I solved for x.
Written 13 March 2020
Out in the desert, late at night
The stars and moon are shining bright
The coyotes sing,
While crickets keep beat
Cool night's joy, replaces heat
The owl sets out on nightly quest
"Who, whoo's my meal?"
ever his jest
The man in the moon
witnessed escapes
Wild dashes
for thorn bush drapes
The merry stars
with twinkling eyes
Laughed at the hoot owl's
great surprise
Kangaroo rat leaps in delight
Out in the desert late at night
A life story whose ink is not yet dry,
Whose book is not yet ready for the shelf -
These 96 years seem to have flown by;
There’s nothing left to fear but fear itself.
But now one slow day bleeds into another,
She wonders what remains for her to do,
Yet those who call her friend or aunt or mother
Still cherish every day she makes it through.
She says that "growing old is growing old"
This vibrant soul whose lifelong goal was teaching;
These hands that once gave life’s warmth now grow cold
And idly rest while wondering whom they’re reaching.
This teacher questions what is left to give;
Each day she’s teaching us to bravely live.
(Note: written for my beloved mother a year before she passed away)
Oh for pity's sake put some clothes on,
the bracing air will steal your breath..
and I need you to stand and stay strong.
Cold comfort thrills from your chill touch
help me recall why I adore you so...
A chin of the ages rests on my shoulder in sweet affection,
two arms encircle my world in every direction.
Redtail hawk riding a thermal looks down..
what caught its gaze I wonder..
Will the day lend a hand through a pestering cloud,
or roll its eyes in thunder?
Such a fine firebrand you've stoked,
as I shave my face and call your bluff.,
Wishing the once would last forever..
though once was more than enough.
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.
Was it a sheer accident that I became a poet?
Poetry, I didn’t pursue, rather it cropped up
As a late-night guest, quite unexpected.
A teacher’s career, I have been bent upon
And prefer to be known more as a teacher than a poet.
In my eyes, teachers are a venerable sort,
Happy that I could belong to that ‘special’ lot,
Instilling in young ones - newer insights gleaned,
Enriching their lives - with atoms of knowledge pooled,
Brightening their paths - with millions of lanterns lit,
Rowing them away - from the perilous shoals of life,
And leading them to be anchored on safer shores!
A teacher sure stands taller above,
Every other mortal who serves!!
Numerous are the guise a teacher has to put on,
And cleverer the tricks she has to play,
To tackle the wards in her all-out care,
And launch them out into a world to fare.
I have played all at once myriad roles,
More of a mentor and not just a tutor,
A physician who heals, a nurse who tends,
A parent who cares or a pal who shares,
A patron who supports or a lawyer who argues,
A scholar who learns and a master who trains.
As Christ taught his disciples - with parables many,
As Socrates instructed the youth - through endless queries,
As Sullivan led Keller - to the new dawn of light,
As Aesop enlightened kids - with countless tales,
I strove to be a TEACHER.
An erudite soul with a mission!
A sculptor who sees an angel, veiled within a rock!
An architect building an edifice to last a lifetime!
A warrior uncompromising in war,
On Ignorance – the most ignoble foe!
I don’t know where I presently stand,
Nor do I know how my students would rate me,
Though often floundered or failed to act,
In the manner I ever so longed to do,
I would rather be a TEACHER all my life,
A ‘guru’ out and out, from hilt to heel.
And I would wear that mantle with pride!
Our Beloved Teacher
( Sonnetina Rispetto)
Torch of knowledge from you we take
You hold our hands for our dreams sake
Values and love we emulate
Like dad and mom, you truly care
We grow in your nurturing grace
Your guidance gives us strength and faith
Torch of knowledge from you we take
You hold our hands for our dreams sake
You look after us the whole day
As we read, learn, dance, sing and play
Values and love we emulate
You guidance gives us strength and faith
Torch of knowledge from you we take
You hold our hands for our dreams sake
Copyright 2014 Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
October. 28, 2014 4.35pm
Second Place
Contest: Sonnetina Rispetto
Judged: 11/6/2014
Sponsor: Poet Dr. Ram Mehta
As I look back, it all seems funny now
Recalling all those awkward teen age years
I pushed the limits farther than allowed
Supposedly when young, we had no fears
Infatuation caught me with the blues
My heart was swollen by love's gentle sting
It was a crush that only left a bruise
Left by the diamond in her wedding ring
The first day I laid eyes on her, I fell
The lightning bolt she was, that shook my world
And to this day I swear I'd know her smell
Could she have read my mind, she'd likely hurled
I hated school but never missed her class
She said she loved me 'cause I made her laugh
original poem by Daniel Turner
Islam is non merciful
Islam is about repressive means
Islam has no heart
Over and over this chant shall start
For when we close our eyes
For when we judge our fellow man
Chants may bring us comfort
However false is the ringing of the rant
Men of terror may fly their black flags
Claiming a merciful god orders them to kill
al-Shabab reads no holy books, be sure of this
At reckoning they will be omitted from Allah’s bliss
So let us now pay tribute and honor
Let us hold a tissue for a tear so well deserved
The blood of Islamic hearts shall surely open your eyes
As I myself bow, in despair at a humble mans demise
That day, both miraculous and tragic
Salah Farah, a kind man, now a hero
His Muslim brothers became the strong and the brave
For they followed the true teachings of Islam
Salah Farah has passed on from Gods bountiful earth
A Muslim of brave heart and generous soul
He stood up for the love of his teachings
No man he claimed, should defile his fellow man
As terrorists point their rifles
At Christians shivering in fear
Salah Farah and his Muslim brothers
Stood firm with all of humanity dear
Salah Farah proclaimed “we are all brothers”
Let us do no harm
Let Muslims protect Christians
Let Christians protect Muslims
For we are one, no matter religion
No matter destiny, we must all hold true
To the values of compassion and love
As every Muslim that day, stood ready die
I proclaim, Salah Farah flew the flag of hope
His brothers choose love over death
The all Merciful’s eyes too had tears
His flock of disciples saw his message clear
Teaching
Mercy
Love
Compassion
I didn’t ask for help.
Yet someone heard
my inward crying voice
without a word.
“When the student is ready
a teacher will appear”
somehow it seems these teachers
pop up everywhere.
Their words were subtle
pointed darts
that caused me endless
fits, and starts.
There was no Hallelujah Chorus
no heraldry of trumpets din
just a presence in my life
every now and then.
I never asked for help
yet somehow they saw my need
and placed within my heart
an ever growing seed.
They cut the bindings loose
freed me from my tethers
drifted slowly through my life
without ruffling my feathers.
©8/10/2018
for New Rhyming Poems On Angels Poetry Contest
"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 teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind." Khalil Gibran
Mr. Moore taught us English lit
but more important than that,
he taught us how to use our wit.
He willed us to go way beneath
the surface and there discover
treasures hidden under the heath.
He urged us all to cast our lines
way far out into our waters,
waters of thought, we could refine.
We found Truth was for Mr. Moore
like a shield or coat of armor.
These well-known words tacked to his door -
"Above all, To thine own self be true."
Then, does it really matter much
what others choose to say or do?
Virtue we came to realize
exists in the mind of the man -
his character without disguise.
first dance
deep trance
love young
just sprung
controlled
untold
one day
in May
from sir
fresh fleur
9 February 2022
A Strand ( 1068) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st place
The Bard
In a small cottage high upon the windy moors
There lives a bard with authentic romantic rhymes;
A master poet who lives within present times.
Enchanting stanzas written to beguile, confuse.
His poetry sometimes enigmatic, you see,
Can be a challenge with a bit of mystery.
But this bard teaches as he shares intriguing rhymes.
Intelligent lexicon, aberrant in ways,
Have us searching his words with Google, in a daze.
He bathes us in bright colors of the rising Sun,
With majesty he paints a picture of the moon
With such impressive stunning sights it makes us swoon.
He expresses with winsome wit and fantasy...
He spills his ink in rare colors of every hue;
Endeavors to relate both life and death anew.
Isn't that what Great poetry is all about,
To open minds to endless possibilities
And savor as fine wine such sensibilities?
Hooray! I say we celebrate his poetry...
A bard with talents that may lie beyond the rest
Inspires us to make learning a sacred quest!
12-30-18
Contest: As easy as ABB ~N/A~
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter