Classroom Poems - Poems about Classroom

M-ovies A-s E-ntertainment A-re N-ormally N-eeded, E-ducating V-iewers I-n L-ife L-essons, A-s R-emarkable A-ctors S-how A-rtistry ©bfa052725 Monocrostic (Birthday of Mae Anne Villarasa) ...

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the greatest classroom I ever sat in was my mother's kitchen she said give what you want if you get it back stay if you don't leave she said you might not ever get a degree in law but you damn well better get a degree in people she said you cannot have an independent mouth and a...

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In December's chilling, silent air, Echoed a grief too great to bear, Empty chairs, where laughter sat, A nation's heart, forever flat. The books lay open, untouched, unread, Dreams were shattered, tears were shed, Small hands that held pencils bright, Now lost forever to the night. No words could heal the broken cries, No comfort soothed those weeping eyes, Yet in their courage, we must...

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This is a call to arms, not with guns, but with pens In the battleground of classrooms, where history pretends Textbooks are prisons, locking away truths untold Lessons are handcuffs, keeping minds on hold We're force-fed a diet of colonial lies Digesting distortions, our heritage dies But today we rise, we're breaking these chains Dismantling doctrines, rewiring our brains Cultural colonization, a virus...

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Well, teachers and students, I'll tell you: Education could have been smoother on the blackboard. It's had chalk dust in it, And eraser marks, And lessons half-learned, And minds with no answers written— Blank. But all the time We've been teaching on, And reaching milestones, And turning pages, And sometimes learning in the dark Where there ain't been no guidance. So folks, don't give up. Don't you close your...

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In dynamic classrooms Amid inquiry and exploration with my mind racing, in casual attire or rolled-up sleeves, With my hands on experimental apparatus, questions,...

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From the sacred centre of learning streams forth an irrepressible desire to overcome the ignorance between people. Education speaks to us through knowledge, a testament to human potential unleashed. The classroom communes through books, discussions, and discovery. Teaching, the ever-flowing fountain, reveals the secret of growth through question and answer, theory and practice. All learners long...

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In halls of learning, a vision unfurls, A canvas of hope for all boys and girls. Each thread a child, unique and bright, Woven together in wisdom's light. I dream of classrooms without walls, Where curiosity echoes through the halls. A place where every mind can soar, And no child's potential is ignored. Books that speak in many tongues, Songs of knowledge from many...

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In the echoing halls of third grade, he sits, a nine-year-old lad, master of the silent symphony, the classroom's perpetual farter. His seat, a throne of hidden thunder, each release a stealthy gust, an unseen hand that wafts through the air, invisible yet undeniable. The girl down the aisle, her eyes wide with wonder, a scientist in the making, studies his every move, curiosity alive in her gaze, as if decoding...

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Jump, thump, six graders jump from stone to pebbly stone. Chirp chirp the robin flies Across the sky alone. Crunch chunch the graveled feet, Sh. . . shoo, a breathy whisper, Hard, cold bench for a seat, Rough wood, perhaps a splinter. Puh, puh, puh, a boy spitting, Mosquito slap A girl is hitting. Scarlet leaves on willowly stem Dance in the crisp fall air. I hear a...

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Heart of my heart, here’s where ...

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The school bell's chorus wakes a drowsy room, Sunlight spills, a golden, dusty plume. Desks, once dormant, morph to galleons grand, Ready to set sail to each uncharted land. Chalk, a spectral hand, whispers wisdom's lore, Unveiling mysteries on the darkened shore. Sharpeners gnash their teeth, devouring leaden dreams, Leaving silver whispers where logic's spotlight beams. Globes, like captive Earths, continents in hold, Beckon's...

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Beyond bricks and mortar, beyond rigid lines, A symphony of learning, where knowledge entwines. Government walls, a canvas vast and bold, Where futures blossom, stories yet untold. No distant sage, the teacher's role transcends, A guide, a friend, on whom each journey bends. Not rote decrees, but questions spark and soar, Unleashing potential, reaching for more. Freedom to dance, to stumble, to rise...

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Now, I suspect the economics teacher But he suspects me and The case goes on into the term As we gently move From one story to another But I've got all the other plays, so they look good Break time and lunch time Offer time for time to call witnesses Or suspects one by one They file in looking...

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we share a girly* laugh at what they teach, Julie and I, at history lessons, events so old, they are so out of reach, conquests, battles and what follows treasons! those days were dark, and so very evil, kings were pompous, their tempers so fiery, learning of them is learning of devil, what would we gain from a horror story? Is it worth...

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