School Teacher Poems

Six Plus Three is Eight

     Six plus three is eight
         School is really great

     Two plus five is nine
         It’s never been this fine

     One times one is four
         My teacher I adore

     Math comes to me so easily
         ~ Why’d I get a ‘B’

old school teacher

Provoking her is not easy to do
She’s been teaching children since fifty-two
Spanking was the norm back in the day
I still like to use it she will often say

Alas times have changed, children now play
Wasting their time each and every other day
Ridiculous she said when she finally retired
Just months before she may have been fired.

The School of Life

In what galaxy does a heart 
not learn lessons the hard way?
It’s in the nature of all creatures.

The school of life welcomes its students.
Some will breeze on by and 
not learn much of anything.
 
The ones that embark implicitly
on that lush wild river of discovery
will be amazed when they unleash their potential.

Everyone is given the same amount of hours, 
precious time to squander or exploit;
checks and balances accrued in bank book.

Here on earth promises are delivered,
bruises fade and broken bones are mended,
fear eclipsed and IOU's paid and erased.

Everyone carries about their baggage:
the outcome of their experience,
the detailed records in their head.

We each have our predestined portfolio,
an agenda or checklist of things to learn,
be they tender or wickedly cold and harsh.

It would be ridiculous to expect that life is fair:
it’s a lottery we are allotted numbers,
some are lucky while others feel their curse.


AP: Honorable Mention 2025

A teacher's recurring nightmare

Today again, I went to go teach, totally unprepared.
And fearing the principal would come observe me had me so scared,
I rambled through the room, floundering and fluttering.
And then a student asked, "Mr J, why are you muttering?
Do I sense maybe ~ you're just a little bit impaired?"

My Teacher Is The Light Of My Life

My Teacher Is The Light Of My Life

 Birds sing sweetly in the morning
 The sky is clear without clouds and blue
 My teacher came riding a bicycle
 Bring useful knowledge
 For our beloved ones

 My teacher gave me a role model
 Without tiredness or time
 The light of your lamp will always live
 Illuminates every step of the journey
 Your knowledge will be useful throughout your life

 My teacher told me
 When you grow up you will become a useful person
 To the nation
 I pinned the message in my heart
 All your services will never be forgotten

read a book once

Read a book once
Folded the corners
To mark my progress.
It was sort of a
Wagon train read
Long, torturous, 
A seemingly endless quest
For an unknown destination
Pictured only in the minds
Of others
Who
Sadly
Were only aggrandizing
What they were told.
The book I read
Had been chosen for me
By a deranged
English teacher/football coach
Before the era of the
Concussion Protocol.

The Book Report I wrote
Received an “A”
I believe because
I trashed the book
Question why it was assigned
As it was a tedious read
Containing statistical
As well as anecdotal
Documentation
Of its unreadability
Or more likely because
He was hung over
After the football team
Beat our traditional rival.

A Surprise Gift On Teacher's Day

Neither boquet of roses
Nor a pack of chocolates
Nor a hand letter
Nor a congratulatory message
Nor a hug or a shake hand 
Nor a hi or hello greeting
But a bouquet of guava leaves
That a former student gives
To her teacher on Teacher's Day.

eggs hatch at school

incubator day
children wait for eggs to hatch
one chick pecks away

teacher covers cage
six chicks emerge overnight
only one hold out

this egg never cracks
wise teacher takes it away
quietly alone

My Favorite Elementary School Teacher

As the yellow-orange  sun  slowly rises
Memories of your class's  fun  flood my heart
Thoughts  run  to your teaching and enterprises

You brought those  tiny  guppies to our class
A creative  shiny  diorama's great art
 Sunshiny  person and dedicated lass

You  lifted  us up when you said
All the  gifted  books available we'd outsmart
Sad you to your death  drifted  from your sickbed

Vegetable

This is a true story

Vegetable !
I could read this word. 
Vegetable !
Because of Mary Lou Redd, Reading  Specialist Baltimore Public Schools 
I was age 10, reading---
Vegetable. 
Prior to, I added my own words to the printed page.
My stories,
not Mcgraw-Hill.
Mary Lou made magic.
Saving  children from a lifetime of ignorance,  shame and lies.
Vegetable!
Rememberring my first steps that day, 
I cried, proudly... .
VEGETABLE .....
all on my own.
Thank you,   Ms. Mary Lou.

Life of a teacher

Waking up before the sun kisses
Chirping of birds becomes brushed aside
Putting glasses to see better
With unpolished shoes I ride over
With an old beg of mine
Keeping some old books inside
The rusted passage let me in
I walk through a road edged with topiary
as if golden hedges welcome me
The old corridor embraces my stomping footsteps
Holding a chalk to create and defend
I march into battle ground cum temple of knowledge
Keeping all agonies behind the doorway
A warrior devotes to serve the future
An oath to fire up extinguishing lamps
And to nourish the saplings till they grow
Time rushes with greying hairs and vivid memories
But the grown up trees reminds me to keep going

Blamed and Shamed

 “When you’re blamed and shamed for something you didn’t do, 
remember the one who looks out for you, He knows the truth”
Long ago when I was in junior school
I was made to look a ludicrous fool
A note was passed around, from desk to desk
Guess who got the blame when it came to rest.

It was me of course, teacher called me out
I got the blame for handing the note out
The culprit never owned up, he or she
And no one at all came forward for me.

The note said that so and so loved someone 
The names on the note from mind have long gone 
Deep down I knew that teacher disliked me
It was how she spoke to me nastily.

Too shy to say what I needed to say
On that horrid embarrassing school day
Not one classmate spoke up in my defence
The instigator had no penitence.

That teacher picked on me for any thing
She didn't care how much her brusque words could sting
So I was tarnished with the blame and shame
If only I had that time back again.

Teachers are sure to be fully aware
Some pupils are in need of tender care
Living their lives already traumatised 
Needing love and not to be stigmatised.

First Draft

First Draft

Classroom creativity
Ebb and flow
Teaching the things
I know I know
Investigating others
For a much better skill
To teach to spark hunger
And never to kill
The desire to grow, create and fulfill
Dreams and goals
In the language of life
With the music of poetry
And literary device.

      ~  Judy Bausch

Miss Mott

Tall Her Eminence stood, calling my name,
My first-grade teacher of notable fame,
Who had taught most all my kin years before,
Now she was summoning me to her court.

She was judge and jury, penalized fast,
Any wrongdoing or mischief in her class,
No one could counsel me in my disgrace,
She was the defense too, for goodness sake.

I had committed a horrendous crime,
Someone’s stomach had felt my fist big time,
Now this tiny hoodlum was called to pay,
For what he had done at recess that day.

As I slowly approached, a friend of mine
Whispered, “say you’re sorrow, might work this time,”
As I stood before the bench for judgement,
I said those words, vowing I would repent.

Reprimanded, I quickly retreated,
Glad my life had be spared and not deleted,
Learned great lesson about grace extended,
On which I routinely contemplated.

Strange how such events look in retrospect,
People like her, I will never forget,
Those who taught me to behave as I ought,
As that first-grade teacher of mine, Miss Mott.

nooks and crannies in Elementary Schools

There are now nooks and crannies in elementary school classrooms.
Places for children to slither and slide into
When they need a break
When they despise multiplication facts
When they are tired of reading
When I was a child I would have spent all day in one of these crannies
Ignoring the teacher as hard as I could

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