Education) Poems - Poems about Education)

Gates once locked with poverty's rust now swing on golden hinges Every child a key-holder: the girl whose fingers paint light from darkness, the boy who dreams in mother tongues and thinks in mathematics, wheels spinning stories across threshold stones. Breakfast arrives with sunrise and hope, satellites whisper knowledge to mountaintops, libraries gallop on horseback to forgotten villages. Schools are changing. Democracy breathes in corridors where...

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The day’s hours were worn down and a sudden sunset, that resembled a master’s painted glimpse of Valhalla, was upon us, its majesty of deepest blue, blood red and black. From our tenth-floor skew, the river looked, for all, like a wrinkled sea expecting a storm. Boats moved to tie up before the dark body of windswept clouds arrived trailing a...

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Poetry, Plato says know it; "Go," though, he says to the poet. It's good to be good, But be understood, Best if you never do show it....

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She sits there and watches the trees, waiting for that moment when life will be at ease, while her heart sings a ferocious lullaby and the clouds starts moving in the sky. There was nothing mellow about it, it was just the moment that came with the time and the people that were standing in...

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Haiku in English a strict 5/7/5 the most difficult to contrive Tanka adds a couplet 7/7 show then tell the poetic leaven...

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The last one standing Would usually be a victory But in this black girls story It was the opposite For her this was a loss Being the only black girl in the school And for this She felt it deeply Knowing for the next few years She would be lonely Most of the other black parents Wanted their children To escape from...

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Ken lived in Alexandra town..Which you'll find within the Borders of Vic..A family man who worked the hotmix Hands moving strong and quick.' Although born as A Kiwi.' He became an Aussie true' an ex pugalist who had Challenged for middleweight dominance in the Oceanian Games' now who'd have knew? He tuaght me how to come And go' to walk back...

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evil lies torch and burn free inquiry… dust and ash … homegrown Hitler youth ...

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Here comes a generation of substance. Trouble lies, her name is Constance Future of tomorrow caught with substance Imagine Janet, Judith, Tiktok for instance. Looking Hot another name for Misconduct. Tell Angela Martins I have her product. She ordered ring light for brightness With a future filled with darkness. Technology is sweeter than Candy, Sweeter than the candy I gave to Andy. Teenagers teenaging in...

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Awakening humanity.' Struggling within the breadth and depth of possibility's revelling in those possibility's and also an Obstinancy.' Blood-soaked actions stoking their reality wanderers all' Lost leaders exploring so much iniquity bursts of good; with some intensity! Travelling in orbits so Habitually. Builders of edifices in great vanity' until redemption through the veil of flesh; to humanity.'...

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Why we stopped explaining racism to you Because even if it Slapped you in the face You'd still claim it doesn't exist So why would we spend our existence Pandering to your ignorance I mean we have better things to do like ending racism The same racism you claim doesn't exist Even though you've had the privilege Of never experiencing it Ain't that ironic Telling...

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I’m new to ‘self directed study,’ it’s a construction I’ve never known. It’s kind of a faustian bargain that resembles another self-paced activity—treading water. The program’s like an immersive plunge in deep, choppy, informational seas. On the other hand, instead of dark, crowded auditorium classes, we’ve been studying, on sunny mornings, out by the pool, where...

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Every house holds secrets. Each secret cracks like old paint on the walls, revealing the fragility of our hidden truths. Years of concealed issues threaten our futures, regardless of how well they are kept. Unlike the enigmatic Mona Lisa, some secrets should never remain untold. Within every house, hearts have been broken, and each room stands...

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They called it knowledge— but it came in cages, neatly bound in books with no windows to the sky. We were fed with answers, but starved of questions, trained to remember but never to awaken. They taught us numbers, but never how to count what truly matters. They gave us alphabets, but stripped the poetry from our speech. We learned the names of kings— but not the dignity of...

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Teaching was full of fun, Before these emails had begun, Class was toiling away, Doorknock, answer right away, Despite my scholars' pleading, Switched them all to silent reading, Vital, sign your name, X or Y, Choose one, class did sigh, Who won that football game? Who came second, who's to blame? Sign your name, you see, X means you teach literacy, Star, you can teach the IRA, You...

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