Teacher Into Poems | Examples
These Teacher Into poems are examples of Into poems about Teacher. These are the best examples of Into Teacher poems written by international poets.
fill (someone) with the urge or ability to do or feel something, especially to do something creative
A father swings his daughter in the warm embers of a summer night
A fragile woman sits in a seat her chemotherapy drip pushing poison through her veins but smiles
A husband stands in the rain with an umbrella waiting for his wife’s return
A sunbeam strikes a wave as it makes its way out sea
A poet uses words and senses
A teacher uses knowledge
but what to inspire
Hope
Love
Create a tivity
Intangibles tangled in torrid traps
No hope without the hopeful
No love without the loved
Is passed tense the past tense of past tense
No creativity without the creatures to create
Urge with an nudge
Find the somethings new
Hope until you can’t
Love until it gone
Create until everything is done
Kindergarten students in Miss G’s class rushed right in
Clapping, smiling, stamping, tromping, stomping, laugh’n.
They loved that she had transformed their door into a gingerbread house.
One of them began chanting “not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse”.
Kindergarten students love it when you go the extra mile.
Their enthusiasm that day made Miss G clap and smile.
Two more weeks until winter break, she announced to them.
“Can’t we move in here with you?” asked a little guy named Jim.
I am now up and half asleep,
quiet I must not make a peep,
others are still sleeping like sheep,
need to get dressed and start my jeep.
Off to school it is time to go,
a teacher is making me glow,
looks like it is starting to snow,
I need to get to work for dough.
With this winter storm descending,
meetings I am not attending,
no my ice scraper is bending,
oh please warmer days start tending.
"Before the day turned into night,"
now turn on the living room light.
What is that? My comrade asked. I ignored her. She is not my friend.
No, really, she said scooting my way. The rest of the class smiled on whim.
The teacher had them on mute, so they could not speak. I was glad.
“Who is your friend?” the teacher asked; he is a lecher; I do not trust him.
Hey! You all really do look alike! My pal Sam texted in my private text box.
This irritated me; I never like stereotyping lambs or any other creature.
Shall I tell them my story? The intruder asked. The one about the fox?
This is an important class meeting I said; and you are being a leacher.
Well excuse me! She said, stomping off to be with the rest of the herd.
“Who was that?” My teacher asked me. He is all about mixed dating.
I had to will my eyes not to roll; this was inappropriate, quite absurd.
Her name I do not know, but she is pushy, I warned as he was waiting.
Can you please get her number? He asked. She looked interested in our class.
Annoyed, but trying not to show it, I decided to fix them up on a whim.
I know this seems weird, and it was, but I do have a bit of sarcasm and sass.
And a bit of gloat, would be horrible and awful pretty much for both of them.
Heading towards the
community college
I get on the bus
slide in my Metrocard
and I'm off
Passing stores and pedestrians
Watching the busy moving
traffic on city streets
Life in the metropolis
is something fascinating to watch
Soon I will be surrounded
by hungry (to learn) ESL
students
Before heading into the
college
I stop off for eggs with
tomato, salt, and pepper
And later imbibe
a large green tea
This "fuel" keeps me
going for the day
Been working
for a decade and a half at the college
No students yet
So I pen this poem
and dedicate it to
the hardworking people of
New York City
By Ombuge Moses
I leave
Shadow to guide
My destination blared
My vision mission stopped
Holding is the purse
Inside a book
For now, I read not
A boy shaking at heart
Memory to my Granny
Care from my Granny
Lovely she was
For father never known
Fatherly I missed
Family never known
My hope dead Granny
Forever to miss
The wind blew
Shadow to guide
The book to carry
Wisdom in hand
People turn bush
Civil no more
My shadow, black dark
Blood red
Book white
Cover brown
Pen blue
Teacher gone
Gone to death
Lovely she was
Slum, life miserable
House burned
Chaos to maintain
Walking to my shadow
Hope to wisdom
Education to peace
Peace lacks death centre
Butcher it sounds
Knife to slaughter
Human too salty
To dump and rote
I leave
Shadow to guide
I walk into my shadow
Inside a book
To Seek A Mate?, To find Himself?, To add His Name to A POET’S History?
The Tears We shed ; are Tears Of Joy! For the Young Pups , Youthful Memories
He will Follow the Circle of Life, Returning in the Mist of “LOVE FOREVER “
“ Frank Herrera “ We Await YOUR Magnificence : Reentry : YOU are so Cleaver
A Teacher , a Philosopher , Hungering For “ KNOWLEDGE “ “THE HUNGRY WOLF “
Touches Paradise ; with His Golden Pen : And Brings us POEMS of Truth
Dear Frank , I started this 3 days ago , Hoping YOU are Still on SOUP
My Prayers for YOU, in YOUR Travel beyond : the many SOUPERS
Who Anticipate “ YOUR quick Return “ , to a Family : "YOU have to LOVE"
Good Luck in YOUR Endeavors , send us a Sign, of YOUR Return in the Message from
Above
Author’s Note : I will miss YOU Frank, But I see YOUR Return : “ YOU Bring the
Spring “
Dedicated TO : Frank Herrera : This is not “Good-Bye” I’ll see YOU in the Creation
of “SPRING” YOUR Liege ALWAYS With LOVE...HG