Long Teachers Poems
Long Teachers Poems. Below are the most popular long Teachers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Teachers poems by poem length and keyword.
Natural Born Comedians
I had a class of sixth graders in Chicago,
Absolutely like no other.
Never a class so full of smiles and
hilarious pranks.
Their boundless joy rolled over me like
a huge Sherman tank.
I think they had their own student
lesson plan book,
Whose main topic was: "Let's make
Mrs. R. look like a schnook."
Don't ever tell them, please promise?
It was the best year of my life.
Anyway, I got all the silly kids no
teacher wanted.( The tight-***ed
teachers, I mean.)
To me, these children were sunbeams
of joy in my life, each day undaunted!
At times, they made me laugh so hard.
They were far more creative than any
Second City Improv.
So thank you God for a class of sparkling
sunbeams you gave me for a year.
Only one thing remained on my desk
when they all were gone!
Stillness, silence, empty chairs,
And the splash of my salty tears falling
on my barren desk!
Panagiota Romios
3/22/2019
"Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…
It reminds me of my grandparents;
Grandma, baba, ouma, bomma grandmother;
Love to read poems sing them ole time songs;
So much love they given each of us;
Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…
Yet they were stern
Great teachers taught my parents as will as me to learn;
They listened to a Motorola on a tall stand;
Nonna would play a little ditty on the “baby grand”
Oh! And Gran made fried pies on Sundays;
Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…
We would have with our dinner;
Homemade chicken soup, meatloaf and cabbage loaf;
My grandpa and his friends would sit outside talkN loud
While listening to the ballgame on a transmitter radio;
The ladies would settle in the den;
Nesting caressing darning with patch qulits using needles and tread;
Joyously giggling laughing while lovingly talkN bout them men;
Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…"
1/4/20
Written words by Genysis DMaurier & James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
A dedicated verse to Genysis DMaurier
based on words from Genysis to a e-mail to me
Wake up teachers
You cannot hide forever
School should not be a cultural battle among teachers
Religion should not be used to rattle our aim!
New and Older teachers do not give yourselves
To those who want to treat you like cattle!
Some possess a mind like a machine
Reject the tricks and the clicks in the staffroom
The greed in their hearts will bleed their
Purpose in the wrong direction!
There are so many male and female witches in the staffroom
Often referred to as female dogs as they try to stitch up
The mouths of others because they want to talk and
Walk in a laughter of deceit—we must defeat their misguided notion!
Wake up new and older teachers
Look at all the students
You sent in the wrong way
Because of your cultural ambition!
Change your mind and change your direction
So that you can have a work and not a job!
Wake up teachers
You cannot hide forever but
For those who hide behind the principal
These words are strictly for you
Copyright 2024
Teacher
Dear Teacher
Thanks for the hard work and dedication
To the students that you teach
Thanks for always practicing what you preach
Thanks for instilling in them
The things that need to be instilled
Thanks for helping dry away their little tears
Thanks for the years and years of service
It hasn't always been easy .
No
Thanks for holding on and never letting go
Thanks for the commitment to every single child
Making this learning experience worth their while
Thanks for the friendships and unbroken bonds
Thanks for reassuring parents
That you got this hun
Thanks for the sleepless nights
Trying to put things together
Thanks for the redirection
Thanks for the growth
Thanks for taking the kids up under your wing .
Thanks for the nursery rhymes
And when you sing ??
Thanks for the joy you bring
Thanks for being a doctor
When they get a scratch (lol)
Thanks for the great impact
I know some days you want to throw in the towel
I understand
Thanks for lending a helping hand
No matter the circumstance
It takes a village
To raise a child
And we are all doing a great job
Even when the class gets demanding and you don't feel you've been dealt the right cards
Thanks for still playing your part
Thanks for being a counselor when they have problems
(Like sharing)
Thanks for always caring
T-is for taking the time
E-is for every time you've been kind
A- is for all that you bring
C- Is for caring no matter how hard it seems
H-is for holding the fort down
E-is for positive energy that the children match
R-is for respect we all have to earn that .
And teaching is not always in school
Thanks for giving us the rules and tools
Dear Teacher
Thanks
For turning their can't into, I can
And helping them build the confidence and self-esteem
Thanks for helping them dream and be a part of the dream team
When life throws the stone and feel like it will defeat you
Thanks for being the perfect teacher
No matter what has been served on life's platter
Thanks for all you've done and Teachers you matter ?? ?? ?? ?? ??
Written by Concetta Hardnett
05/09/2024
SafeHome is not so much a real place
as a destiny longed for
on our lifetime journey toward dynamic well-being,
too healthily robust to fear growing homeless and friendless.
SafeHome is not an unchanging Paradise,
statically without resonantly changing,
slow-turning nutritious seasons,
ups and downs,
ins and outs.
Such conservative stability, uniformity
could never be my red-blooded idea
of brilliantly resilient Heaven.
So, when Earth's climate pressures,
internally and externally competing
to my point of ego-aggression,
notice chronic stress climbing up my back
and shoulders,
brain stem and frontal cortex
concerned about politically left and personally unself-righteous depression,
When cynicism about never ever loving enough WinWin RealTimes
RealTalk
Real cooperative integrity walks
into co-passioning solidarity,
Then my SafeHome destined child and parent voices
prefer WinWin economic ecological sanctuary
removed from WinLose habitual habitats,
dissonant stuckness
never ever feeling like healthy SafeHome resilience.
Homes resonantly sustained
First, by dynamic cooperative resonance
with all EarthTribes
occupying compassionate health vocational preoccupations
And, Second,
actively seeking sanctuaries cooperatively facilitating,
feeding,
watering,
fueling resilient multicultural nutritional development.
HealthyWealth SafeHomes
plant and harvest socially compassionate
interdependent health-resonant relationships,
polyculturally resilient,
spiritually and naturally polypathic, nonsectarian,
democratically positive energetic, dynamic systems
forming SafeWombed
flow-functions,
universal inside survivor memories
of cooperative sanctuary, originally outside warm wombs
From SafeWombs
emerge WinWin infants, then young and free children
who become WinWin parents and teachers and gratitude preachers,
eco-listeners and ego-speakers
longing for compassionately cooperative SafeHome returns,
pilgrimages toward universal solidarity,
unitarian SafeHome interdependence.
A long strong ZeroZone SafeHome
for robust reunification
within EarthTribe graced communions, healthy
green cooperatives,
permaculturally wealthy
deep learning lifetimes
for green STEAM educational placements,
safe ZeroBalancing carbon-based residencies
in WinNature-WinSpirit learning civilizations.
An Overview
When Villonia Beebe was a baby of three
She got it in her head to trim the Christmas tree.
She lit all the pretty candles,
Tossed the matchstick away,
Sister, brother, dad, and mother
Never saw Christmas Day.
Nine years went by, she bloomed, and when Villonia was twelve,
She got a yen for French and Greek and so decided to delve.
When her language teachers asked her
What she wanted to do,
Villonia taught those profs some things
The French and Greeks never knew.
She played the field with lots of guys but at age thirty-two
She thought to get herself a steady man was what she should do.
She tried out Toms, and Dicks, and Harrys,
And then settled, in due course,
For a handsome hunk named Homer
Whose nickname was "Horse".
They lived as wife and husband then for sixty-four years,
A life of trials and tribulations, lots of laughter, lots of tears.
Homer made and sold corn "likker"
From a still up in the hills,
And Vee would sometimes turn a trick or two
To help pay the bills.
The lovebirds made their minds up when they turned ninety-five
That they would live to be the oldest couple alive,
But time and sex and "likker"
Tend to play funny tricks,
Hunky Homer kicked the bucket
At a neat ninety-six.
Villonia is alone again like when she was three.
She's outlived most of her friends and family.
As she sits, and sips, and waits her turn,
One reflection seems to calm her,
When she's found she'll be so full of 'shine,
They won't bother to embalm her.
miracles like milk
prosperity like water
beautiful growth like perfection
still learning about so many definitions
though older, still a child asking the Elder questions
though wiser, still green and making many mistakes in the grass of life
continuing to hang in the freezer
continuing to be crazy from the heat
still wishing for a moderate balance
i too look at everything in my vision from multiple sides now
the scars are the teachers
the unfortunate part of the continuity of my forward steps make me a permanent student
when my time comes, yes, i will still have questions
however, i will be resting peacefully, so i guess trying to find the answers will not matter anymore
pathways and trails of life like rocky silk
views continuing to be odder and odder
I wrote this poetic monologue when I was seventeen years old. It was
part of a play I wrote and directed. It was published in a theatre anthology
used in High Schools as a text book. The writing is not polished but the intent
is heartfelt and I believe still relevant.
Young Man: So they wanted to send me to a special school,see. Cause I
wasn't as smart as the other kids. It wasn't that I was retarded or nothin' like
that. I was just slower at learning than they were and my english wasn't so
hot either,I mean you know the way I talk.
Well I wasn't as smart as the other kids but I didn't want to go to no special
school neither.No sir. So I begged the principle of the school to stay you
know, "I got just as many thoughts as them other kids," I said "I just can't
say them as well"
I begged alright... but he wasn't going to change his mind. And I didn't go to
that special school, no sir. I had too much pride for that,no sir.
The kids and the teachers they used to make fun of me, they thought I didn't
know but I knew. I use to go home crying and cursing god for not makin' me
as smart as the other kids. But I don't cry no more and I don't curse god
neither 'cause I found out something those kids and teachers may never find
out.
Fancy words and fancy thoughts don't mean a thing 'cause those kids and
teachers they've forgotten all about the feeling of love.
Love... yeah that's about the fanciest word I know, and you know I wish I
could teach those kids and teachers about love, but I was slow in learning
about school they're slow in learning about love.
Hey you know maybe we should send 'em to a special school!
I remember being fascinated by animals when I was a child
enchanted by the things I’d hear and see…
I never understood back then…all the things they were teaching me.
When I listened to the birds serenade us from the trees
or soaring overhead as they gracefully spread their wings…
they were showing me how to fly…and teaching me how to sing.
When I watched the rabbits bounding across the grass
saw how every now and then they’d look at me…and stop…
they were showing me the beauty there is in silence…
and teaching me to hop.
When I watched elephants gather together…
see how with their trunks their babies they’d caress….
they were teaching me the importance of family…
and how there is strength in tenderness.
This poem goes out to these and all my other animal teachers..
I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud….
Thank you for all you’ve taught me….I hope I’ve made you proud.
I am still learning from you…I hope I never stop:
never stop learning
singing
enjoying my family
and never…miss an opportunity to hop.
Tall Trees
More than wooden structure
So much, so much more
Not just a pretty fireplace
Or an ornamental door
We need to raise our glasses
To these giants of the skies
They are teachers if we listen;
With instruction for the eyes
As we gaze on with amazement
At their presence and their stature
It's easy to forget the story
Leading to our rapture
For once there was a seedling..
Fighting through the snow
With natural persistence
And a strong desire to grow
With opposition waiting.
All the elements a test
The gentle giant dreaming.. hopefully
To one day be the best
All these years of struggle
Through the seasons, cold and warm
Would define the sleeping giant
Every sunset, every dawn.
And now we gaze to heaven
Amazed and full of wonder
At the canopy so high above
And roots that anchor under
So, as the landscape changes
And our seasons come and go
We should take a leaf, remember
How our struggles help us grow.
And finally to listen,
With the whisper of the breeze,
The song that we've been given
From the tallest of the trees.
Jinjagoliath
28th December 2020