Short Tutored Poems
Short Tutored Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tutored by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tutored by length and keyword.
You can't be king
Until you have been
Taught to hurt
Lectured to steal
Tutored to kill
Skilled to heal.
College none,
Highs school drop out indeed.
English I am still learning.
Tutored not in the writing.
Asked,
"How?"
Given life from Above,
Heart to live & breathe,
Seeking beyond me.
Author He is,
Entrusted me with the pen,
With Lovely Words of Faith,
"Now do something with all of these."
Form:
it's said, "A rolling stone gathers no moss,"
I don't buy that, I move on, I'm my boss,
learning a bit of this, a pinch of that,
to the jack of all trades I tip my hat,
tutored by every win, every loss,
so far, I've survived life's roll, yaw and toss!
Learning Sex
When I learned my abc’s
No one ever tutored me
What comes after S- E- X
Is it easy or complex?
No one taught me what to do
How to show my love to you
What to do and what to say
Give you shivers every day
Dirty movies made me laugh
Worried that I’d make a gaff
So I muddle through my life
Hoping that I’ll be a wife.
My coy mistress is comely
In every aspect proven complete
Well tutored from the home-front corner.
My coy mistress I owe a tender care
Obeying to the letter the command
Through thick and thing my love must cross.
My coy mistress and I as couple
To the long awaited moment we come
Making unbroken declaration before the congregation.
Poetry Soup
Organizing contests in a discreet manner
Engaging its members in time-based contests
Training them in the art of poetry
Raising deeply rooted poets
Yet yielding themselves to be tutored
Such a family of poets I'm glad to belong
Optimizing every opportunity given
Upgrading myself as I journey on
Pursuing my purpose and calling
August 30, 2022.
It is said a rolling stone
gathers no moss.
I disagree, I move on,
I'm my own boss.
Learning from a bit of this,
from a pinch of that,
to all the Jacks of All Trades
I gladly tip my hat.
Inspired by every win,
tutored by every loss,
So far, I've survived Life's
roll, yaw and toss!
Consider the practice of pedagogy.
Sounds less like a noble profession,
And more like a pervert’s kinky fetish,
A groomer’s form of fieldcraft.
Socrates taught Plato,
Just as Shumann mentored Brahms.
Einstein tutored Oppenheimer,
And so inspired those bombs.
When a student has mastered a subject,
Does the teacher proclaim it success?
Or is there regret in awareness
Of the genie set loose on the world?
Occasionally I look at time departed,
And nearly always with a rueful eye.
Calling back days of steps uncharted,
Traipsing through days, querying why?
Times that found my heart hardened,
Ahead of God setting my domain afire.
Prior to my psyche becoming burdened,
I was merely a sinner reposed in mire.
But something happened in my life,
On the far side of minds forgetting.
Cancer and the Master Surgeon's knife,
Tutored me about another blood letting.