Long Teachers day Poems
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I walked into my school at noon one day, straight from a bland boring counseling meeting and no one was there.
No receptionist, no secretary, no nurse, no vice principal, no custodian, oh, where were they, where?
I sat down and started answering the phone, because how often they let me do this is very rare.
"A MOTHER IS COMING UP HERE, AND SHE'S MAD," Principal said. "I've called security, can you answer the phones for now?"
Oh, boy, could I! I love answering the phones. You never know what nut case will call. The principal ran back out, and the phone rang.
A female's voice started yelling "You tell that blankety blank principal, that I'm coming up there with my brothers, and we are going to blankety blank someone up, me and my gang."
I take rapid shorthand, so, yes, I had it all. I repeated it back to her, "Is that all?" I asked her. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" I'm here to serve, after all.
"I'm not going to stand for that blankety blank handbook that says that my daughter cannot....who is his anyway?" She asked, as her tirade became a much slower crawl.
"This is Caren Krutsinger," I told her. I had visited her son in the hospital, just the other day,
"Oh, hi, Mrs. Krutsinger!" she said, her voice lilting upward, in a sing songy 'I like you' kind of way.
"And if that blankety blank principal gives my daughter a detention I am going to blankety blank her up. I'll be there in five minutes all in all."
I foolishly told the principal about this call. "Oh, good, you get along with her," the principal said."When she comes up here, you can go in the conference room with them, in case she brings her giant brothers, mean and tall."
Luckily security arrived first, and the entourage of angry stomped into the conference room raging and ranting and stomping and shouting without me after all.
His name is Herman.
He’s in every teacher’s class.
He’s on your nerve the second half of the first day.
You wonder how slowly this year will pass.
He will not be quiet; he cannot be still.
You have tried everything you think you could.
But he’s a formidable challenge, this child who
In the fifties would have been called a “hood”.
His home life is a nightmare.
His mother long gone.
His father has remarried, so many,
But they don’t stay for long.
He’s a little boy, begging for someone to find
The good in him, that he lost when he lost his mind.
The day that his mother left, when he was two.
Has done him more damage than good you can do.
His name is Herman.
He’s in every teacher’s class.
He needs a break, this boy, so sad.
Which is why he’s acting so terribly bad.
If you have the time
To find the good,
He’ll be your boy,
As no one else could.
If you find the time to let him talk,
And find the good that is in his squawk
If you find the time, you’ll be so glad
Because you will have changed this boy away from bad.
His mother left him,
Which is why he gained such sass.
His name is Herman.
He’s in every teacher’s class.
Ideal instructor, shows integrity, impact in instruction.
5/2/2022
* Deuteronomy 32:2
May my teaching drop as the rain, my speech distill as the dew, like gentle rain upon the tender grass, and like showers upon the herb.
Work Perspective Monoku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Beata Agustin
National Teacher Day is observed on the first Tuesday of the first full week of May (May 3) and we’re more than ready to show our appreciation to those who have taught us. Everyone has had that favorite teacher that has helped inspire them. This day meant to honor them was actually made by a teacher. None other than First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt herself. Eleanor Roosevelt was more than Franklin D. Roosevelt’s wife, she has a history of civic duty and was an advocate for fellow teachers. Her love for education began at a young age when she was privately tutored and encouraged by her aunt Anna “Barnie” Roosevelt. No matter how high she rose on the social ladder, she never forgot where she came from.
My Favorite Teacher
It might have felt lost,
In the big world of old age pillars;
once those tiny hands slipped away,
from being her fathers fillers.
From afar came Her ,
Assuring him Of me;
and hers was I to take care of.
With Her had my father shared;
my falls and winter cold silences.
In Amongst the marks of excellence
she applauded my bits of writings,
In amongst whole classes neglect
she approved my ideas considerate of
some `relevance`.
Upheld were all those who didn’t even try;
I sat silently,
while she upheld My work `well described `
while, My falling drawbacks were in well disguise.
It might have felt lost ,
If I didn’t have the direction
to turn my shortcomings ;
to learn a skill
Beautifully to soak myself in.
In whole of the chaotic chaos
Set up around Me,
there was one escape to fresh start
with her reading of the stories ;
From those each lesson she read
in English literature;
Her each pause and flawless dialect,
gave words to my frozen picture.
Now Hers are the words I speak
Hers is this world I have meet;
Made Me look beyond Restrictions
and become this Person
who Breathes this fresh air of Fiction.
They said the screenplay was complete
Filled with scenery and dialogue that was artistically sweet
An entourage was cast
Star’s children from the past
Having the marketable photo look
Picked up after flipping through a modeling book
It was like an eighties high school affair
Dramatic conflicts without a scare
Like if the pictures in the fashion magazines could move
Physically talented images having nothing to prove
Fluffy fables
Dependent on designer labels
Watched on cable
Was the social thing
Before graduating planning the wedding ring
Getting ready for the stork
This was learning relationship blocking work
Releasing aggression
Setting the proper impression
Now today the creative problems are replayed
Allowing youngsters to learn a perceived lucrative trade
Should today’s parental guiders feel the guilt?
About the teen drama genre the Republican Presidential era built
Say no to drugs the leader’s ladies visual theatrics did campaign
“Stay at home and watch us you will never get blamed”
When their children’s script arrives
And the kids decide to give it a try
Remember Millie the dog might have penned the original first
Only for party like rock stars attitude making the inflated balloon burst
Amazed to learn about the Almighty’s goodness
Blest hearts of ours praise God with gratefulness
Cared for by teachers who instill wisdom’s fullness…
Dear mentors, thanks so much for your diligence
Enriching us with lessons amidst patience
Fervently imparting virtues of blest prevalence…
Gearing us toward character development
Hoisting constantly our literacy advancement
Influencing carefully steps toward great achievement…
Jubilantly, we greet you, “Blessed teachers’ day”
Kind are you with your leading to the right way
Loving us as your children who long for truth’s ray…
Ministering* teachers, continue with Your guiding role
Nurturing us, your students to attain functional goal
Opening great opportunities toward good success pole!!!
*Romans 12:7 - Or ministry, let us wait on our ministering: or he that teacheth, on teaching.
September 22, 2023
2nd place, "Voice" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper; judged on 9/24/2023
Lately, I've cut away hectares of tumors.
That engulfed confidence, happiness, self-worth, and well-being.
With surgery, a bit of the good stuff was sacrificed:
A few shallow laughs, some adventure, and mostly harmless mischief.
The mirror is filled with scars of the heart, excoriations of spirit.
Along with other, yet-to-be-discovered damage.
Though somewhat deformed, I like my new look.
I feel tiredly refreshed.
The scalpels are dull and quiet for now.
There's work to be done.
Some of the newly homeless tumors are mentoring new ones.
I'm no fool and fully aware that I'm also a tumor to others.
"Having received this precious love letter
I'm thrilled that I feel vibrantly better…
Will you guess, my friend, who the sender is?
Cheering now my heart, filling me with bliss???”
“Knowing how your countenance does express
The jubilation no gloom can’t suppress
I may just wonder and with you rejoice
Since to be happy always marks your choice.”
“Oh, I’ll give you clues that can serve as guide
So other options you must set aside…
Now, first… ‘successful’ describes the person
Second, ‘grateful’ for every learned lesson.”
“I’m sure of my answer, as I say: ‘Wow’
Since your letter sender is with us now…
Having written me words of gratitude
Thanking God for teachers' kind servitude."
"So we received same letter; that's so sweet
From our students who will give gracious treat
Greeting us with 'Wonderful Teachers'* Day
The Lord be praised that you directed our way!'"
*1 Corinthians 12:28 And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers...
October 18, 2023
2nd place, "Get into the conversation" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper; judged on 10/20/2023
We all knew what to do, and so we told them.
They were angry and stuck their tongues out.
So we tried reverse psychology.
They saw through it, and hit us with sticks.
We thought we knew best.
After all, we have lived longer.
We have seen more stuff, right?
So we tried ordering them about.
They chased us down the street with bats.
And bully clubs, and brass knuckles.
We hid in a shed, and bragged about being old school.
They were outside, begging us to come out.
Interns, and mentees, and student teachers of today are tough.
Many already set in their ways, and they know more than us already.
They truthfully do not want our old-goat opinions. They are going to fix things their way.
We dug our tunnel as quietly as possible, hoping to slip past them in a few hours.
My principal is one
Of the best four principals
I have ever met, told me she
Saw her budget, and the counselor
For her school (our school if you include me)
Gets a counselor for 4 days next year, not 5.
Which means, if I am the counselor, I would
Have to be in another school one day a week
Next year. Ugh! Some of the schools are pretty
Awful. I’m such a powder puff, I’d be running out
With crying eyes by 8:15 in some of these schools,
And they don’t even start until 9.
My Principal (M.P. for short)
M.P. spoke with the second only to the TOP
The Big Top- the Superintendent himself,
And she said that they need me here
Next year, and it has to be 5 days
A week, because I mean this much
To her and our school.
I am so grateful! And optimistic
because the counselors often
do not know what school
They get until Saturday night at 9
The week before school starts.