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.


Premium MemberDreams

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.
© Bill Baker  Create an image from this poem.


Premium MemberFunny Teacher


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.

Premium MemberTerrific Choice

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.

Backwards Boy

This is a story about Barry Hunt
Who tried to pull off a remarkable stunt
He tried a bungee-jump without using a rope
He then fell to the ground the silly dope
And now his head is turned back to front.

He now sees everything from the back
Which often leads to a panic attack
Because now when he needs a poo
And he has to visit the loo
He simply just doesn’t have the knack

It’s even worse when he needs a wee
Because Barry can no longer see
His aim is so bad, which really makes him sad
Cos to get bullseye he would need a degree

This story of backwards boy Barry
Ends with him finally becoming happy
He then got a job as a teacher, which became a magazine feature
And now he was a celebrity chappie

With his eyes now on ‘the back of his head’
He could see what the children had said
Although there was no cure, he got awarded Teacher of the year
And he celebrated when his name was declared

Barry partied all day and he partied all night
He danced the ‘backward robot’ until it was light
Despite Barry’s backwards life, that night he met June his wife
and now Barry and June are doing alright.

Premium MemberCrocodile Tears

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!


Premium MemberConversation With a Second Grader

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.

Miracle of the Yellow School Bus

I always enjoy at 4:15 PM
No matter where I’ve been
In my house
Backyard living room kitchen
The beep beep of the yellow school bus driver

As he rolls away through the neighborhood
With all those kids skipping jumping
And running home to be happy

The driver’s gentle toot toot reassuring them
The world’s still kind

How he makes the beep beep
Sound silly and muffled
I do not know
But it’s quite a skill
I think

To find the will
And the time to make
That little gesture

What a difference maker

A pat on the back that lasts a lifetime
Not only for all those wondrous kids
But for all the broken pain-filled people
Sad in their homes like you and me

Looking for a lift just once a day
From a yellow school bus driver
Waving and saying It’s all ok
See you tomorrow.

Premium Memberspelling bee

my friend cannot spell it is true

and was stuck on the word iq

when teacher did shout

before passing out

my library books overdue.

Premium MemberSixth Graders In the School Hallway

I hear loud clamoring and yelling.
It sounds like a rumble in the school hallway.
I know it is the older students.
The young ones do not dare.

YOU’RE FIRED! Someone yells.
You’re going to jail! says another voice.
Lots of snickering and laughing.
Maniacal giggling. It is not this funny.

Joy in the hallway because it is Friday.
Kindergarteners are on the other side in a straight line.
Looking straight ahead, keeping their bubbles. Voices off.
One of the sixth-grade boys gives them the stink eye.

A little boy screams.
“It’s okay. He is my brother! “he tells the teacher.
The teacher begins to give him the what for.
The kindergartener smiles, because he did it first.

An Ode To Ap Literature

I do not see further meaning 
behind the choice of word
To analyze this is demeaning
I think it is absurd 

Whoever decided to write this 
must of been high as a kite 
If you want this class to be treacherous 
stab me to make it a fair fight 

The only thing less moving than poetry 
is the clock up on the wall 
Time is is no hurry 
to set me free into the hall 

My teacher tries to no avail 
perhaps I’m unable to learn 
Or maybe all poets are evil 
and just want the world to burn
© E Murphy  Create an image from this poem.

Chemistry Teacher

My teacher was not so good as yours seems to be,
His name was Goodwill and he taught us Chemistry.
He always wanted us to answer difficult questions,
And beat you strong if you cannot balance equations.
If you are late in class he'd twist and twist your ear
Until it falls to the ground and you'll pick it there.
He was so strong when he held you you'd wet your pants...
(He had gigantic hands I once gave him a compliment)
But a person can survive twenty four strokes I was the experiment,
Don't ever disturb Goodwill and give him a comment!

One time he held a student by the door
And twisted his ear till it fell to the floor.
I've never seen Goodwill apologize before
And he will never, for that I'm sure.

Five Red Pencils

Five red pencils,
Fighing in the class.
First one said,
I am bigger than you are.
The second one said,
I am the strongest.
The third one screamed,
I write so well.
The fourth one interrupted,
Excuse me guys, I look so well.
The fifth one alerted,
Keep quiet, teacher is on the way.


Date of submission: 21/05/2021

Premium MemberHe Is a Real Problem

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!

Google and Translation

My students adore Google so much.
They take it for magic or Midas’ touch 
I show them how it translates,
And beg to follow my dictates.
But alas! This falls on deaf ears,
And fails to conquer their inner fears.
If Google does all work for them,
Can Google act or think for them?
So funny follies, so many mistakes
In their names that Google makes.
What more than this can I really say?
What proof they need to stay away?
From Google’s machine translation
And turn to God’s infinite creation.

29/4/2021
© Omar Jabak  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberWalking Disease Spreaders

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.

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