Funny Teacher Poems | Examples
These Funny Teacher poems are examples of Teacher poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Teacher Funny poems written by international poets.
Every wonder where they come from?
I’m just glad that I still get some.
Sometimes they’re pleasant and seem good,
sometimes vague and misunderstood.
At times they’re funny or bizarre,
like riding on a shooting star.
Often it seems they’re teaching me,
past life lessons I didn’t see.
Sometimes one seems like dejavu,
in another time I was you.
Then there was one, I wasn’t a man,
my whole body was made of sand.
Dreams are intriguing, so much fun.
Recurring dreams are never done.
My teacher who thought sun-bathing made her well-red,
graded me average, she was mean to the power hundred.
She was once a banker, but after some time lost interest,
wanted to be a pilot, so her career could take off for the best.
She thought to be able to fly high, could be truly uplifting,
instead she bought a boat, for in the sea it was for sail drifting.
She was an optimist, her blood type was B-positive, they stated,
but the doctor said it was Type-O, the mistake was corrected.
Her memory was photographic, but she couldn’t fully develop it,
she needed to alter a brain part, changed her mind the last minute.
When she stole neighbor’s lamps, he couldn’t be more de-lighted,
a picturesque girl, she landed in jail, “I was framed”, she asserted.
Teacher leaves me no instructions.
I am a last second substitute
I will be here an hour, and I have no idea what I am doing.
One of the six-year-olds begins twerking.
An obscene dance, if you know something.
At home it might be considered funny.
I call him over and ask if he wants to sit with me.
I am old school, no nonsense, no play when you are in the wrong.
He decides he does want to sit with me.
Terrific choice.
This eliminates any chance I could have had for my own playtime.
Oh well, I did not need free time anyway.
We had a most horrid schoolteacher,
And us children did all hate her,
She’d shout at us for no real reason,
And threaten to see us later,
She had a dip on a Florida trip,
And was swallowed by an alligator,
But only crocodile tears were shed,
‘Cos we were all just … gladiator!
How many people in your family?
She is in second grade; she said “one hundred.”
“One hundred people live in your house?”
I think she thought this was funny.
Two, she said.
You and….
Me and my mom and my sister.
That is three, I told her.
She did not argue long.
What does your Mom do? I asked.
She goes on the phone.
What does she do with it?
She texts her cousins and her boss and her mom.
But she doesn’t text her dad.
Why not?
He died in a car wreck.
He is a real problem the other counselor told me
She has given me a year of misinformation
So, I am not ready to jump on this hook
I go to get him; he is seven, and super funny.
He is a cartoonist like me, and uses words like
“please” and “thank you”
Words I myself often forget to use
We have such a great time I forget to take him back
We are ten minutes late; I will take all blame
On the way I feel something crispy put into my hand.
It is half a chocolate chip cookie.
He grins at me.
This will not be our last visit
He has made my Friday delightful!
They never cover their mouths.
They come in sneezing and hacking.
They are germ-mobiles, and I am stuck with them
They are walking disease-spreaders she hissed.
Not in a whisper, but more like a low voice the six-year-olds could hear.
I stare at her, wondering if there is anything she likes about teaching
I spray their desks and their hands with hand sanitizer, she tells me.
I keep away from the coughers and the sneezers as much as possible.
One of them came up and threw up on her shoe while we were talking.
I had to bite my tongue so it would not laugh with abandon.
IBM
UBM
ICBM
On the floor.
The craziest creature
Straight out of a feature
Was named Mr. Beecher.
Foaming came from his mouth.
And his dribbling went south.
Also he lisped like a gigantic louse.
He became our art teacher.
This creature named Beecher.
Bulbous nose his best feature.
On our papers he would sneeze.
After a “humph” and a wheeze.
He was a snotty old tease.
We planned and we plotted.
Our ink we all blotted.
To prove he was dotted.
They took him away.
To a funny farm to stay.
It was a Tuesday.
Art therapy at five!
Beecher was truly alive!
Funny farm was his jive!
Let’s be a teacher I said to myself.
I know how to add and put books on a shelf.
It will be fun I said to my mind.
Are you daft in the head? Takes one of a kind!
The children are crazy.
And frankly you are too lazy.
They will do things so bad.
And you get so ridiculously mad!
It’s all about test scores
You will see lots of bores
It will be hard to do.
You will throw your shoe
Your temper you will lose
And you will make the news
You will be exhausted and tired
It is not the way you are wired!
Teaching is not the job you see
You do not have the temperament to be
In a room all day long with a bunch of kids
So I put my ha-ha dream on the skids.
Field trip day
Science City
I get assigned the five best kids
Three of the wildest boys
One kept yelling “are you my daddy?”
to strange men.
They looked at him with sympathy,
Thinking something was wrong
Feeling badly for him
At first the other four laughed,
but after a while they got tired of it
I never did.
A spanking new fourth grade boy in
the most rigid fourth-grade teacher’s class
introduced himself in this way
“I am a magician. I hypnotize my parents nightly.
They do what I want, when I want, per my instructions.”
Two girls giggled.
“You will be turned into frogs later,” he assured them.
The teacher started to say something but it came out as a croak.
We are wearing pajamas today.
We are super heroes, butterflies, unicorns, and mice.
We have slippers with long rat tails.
Mine are gorillas with red light-up eyes.
One or two have tails.
My zebra suit has lost his tail.
Pulled off long ago,
But do not worry. I am wearing matching underwear.
It is pajama day! Pajama day! Pajama Day!
I sing loudly and proudly, showing off my P.J.s
In throes of ecstasy.
The principal comes to a screeching halt when she sees me.
This was supposed to be for kids.
Yes, I know, I tell her.
Kids like me!
She smiles, and I know all is exactly as it should be.
Possible seventy-nine-degree high today
A day to twirl, and dance and play.
I am saying to everyone I feel sick. We should all be home.
Drawing pictures, planting flowers, writing a poem.
My boss comes in, but sneakily, like a cat. I do not see her coming.
I am in a giddy mood, people are dancing and humming
We have had a rough winter. We are slap-happy now.
We love this weather, the sun-kind that you plow.
It will be eighty-four tomorrow someone else chimes in.
I have an idea; it makes my silly mouth grin.
Let’s all call in sick, I wisely suggest, and very smartly say.
I turn and see my boss’s shocked face, the end of this fun and lively play.
This is a first grader’s day
I build a house! I build a house!
Another first grader chimes in.
It has a mouse! And maybe a louse!
Third first grader yells “Hey, that rhymes!”
“Chimes! Limes! Times! Crimes!”
By the time the teacher arrives back
from her twenty-second bathroom break
the whole room is afire with song.
You would think I taught music.
Did they finish the spelling test? She asks me.
“Test! Pest! Fest! Guest! Crest!” They all sing.
I ease out gently, waving, not daring to speak.