My mother and my father were teachers. My grandmother and my grandfather were teachers. This is something I really know about. Even when I was a kid, it was a profession my father couldn't stay in, because he couldn't make enough money.
quote by Warren Beatty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Teacher’s Day in India,2010
Teachers teach students to learn;
Teachers show them how to earn;
Teachers guide students to read;
Teachers help them if they need.
Teachers share with pupils, ken;
Teachers show them how to pen;
Teachers train them in most things;
Teachers make them good earthlings!
Teachers mould their character;
Teachers act facilitator;
Teachers are a boon on earth;
Teachers bring students, mirth!
Teachers care for children-wards;
Teachers don’t expect rewards;
Teachers slog throughout life-span;
Teachers make them man / woman.
Teachers are a humble lot;
Teachers make learning, an art;
Teachers perform well their part;
Teachers love students in heart!
Teachers are next to parents;
Teachers are a nation’s wealth;
Teachers make a student great;
Teachers are a must for all.
Revere teachers on this Day;
Thank them truly in some way;
Emulate them, if you may;
‘Give them good health, God’, you pray!
“Happy Teachers’ Day! ”
Most lovingly dedicated to all my teachers,
Living and dead, who made me,
‘What I am, today! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 05-09-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teacher’s Day in India,2010
Teachers teach students to learn;
Teachers show them how to earn;
Teachers guide students to read;
Teachers help them if they need.
Teachers share with pupils, ken;
Teachers show them how to pen;
Teachers train them in most things;
Teachers make them good earthlings!
Teachers mould their character;
Teachers act facilitator;
Teachers are a boon on earth;
Teachers bring students, mirth!
Teachers care for children-wards;
Teachers don’t expect rewards;
Teachers slog throughout life-span;
Teachers make them man / woman.
Teachers are a humble lot;
Teachers make learning, an art;
Teachers perform well their part;
Teachers love students in heart!
Teachers are next to parents;
Teachers are a nation’s wealth;
Teachers make a student great;
Teachers are a must for all.
Revere teachers on this Day;
Thank them truly in some way;
Emulate them, if you may;
‘Give them good health, God’, you pray!
“Happy Teachers’ Day! ”
Most lovingly dedicated to all my teachers,
Living and dead, who made me,
‘What I am, today! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 05-09-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode to Teachers
Ode to Teachers
Teachers are not just people whose job is to teach
Teachers are not just people who grade our papers or stand at the front of the classroom
Teachers are not just people who give us homework
No!
Teachers are part of our life
Never to be forgotten
Teachers are like steps that help us
Help us make it to the top
To be a greater person
To exceed expectations
They prepare us for great outside world
With its stone cold heart
Where if we trip and fall on our face
It will laugh at us
But because of our teachers
Our wonderful teachers
We remember to get back up
poem by Dreamin Big
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Teacher’s Day
Obey your teachers, everyone;
Respect your teachers, everyone;
Remember your teachers, everyone.
Heed to what they teach in class.
Like/ love your teachers, if superb;
Emulate your teachers exemplary;
Reward them for their excellence;
Be humble to them all through your life;
Thank your teachers for good things done;
Forgive your teachers, if they’ve wronged;
Pray to God to bless their lives on earth always.
Never mock;
Never hate;
Never anger;
Never belittle;
Never ridicule;
Never humiliate:
Your teachers anytime.
Be proud of all your teachers
Of your school and college;
Help them if they should ask;
Assist them in each task;
A teacher is a gift from God;
Thank God for your part!
poem by John Celes
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Male parental hierarchy.
My parents are two, grandparents four
And great grandparents, eight and so on.
I am known by my father, his father,
And his father and so on by male side.
My mother, her mother and father, their
Mother and father and so on are ignored.
My fathers’ mother and grandfather’s
Mother and so on go to oblivion.
I am known by my father, his father
And his father and so on as a family.
All women from whom I have drawn
Their genes have been shut out.
Parental hierarchy is represented
By male, women dislodged at every stage.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My heroes change so often. There are so many incredible people but the one constant for me is teachers. It's what I would do if I couldn't act and I think it is the most selfless thing you can do. Teachers are tragically underpaid!
quote by Rachelle Lefevre
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Teacher’s Day 2011
Relive those moments when you’re just a kid!
Your mother was your first teacher and dad;
School-teachers did their role beyond compare;
And college-teachers did their part quite fair!
And ‘Teachers’ Day’ has come again this year;
Remember all your teachers very dear;
Contact them in some way and render ‘thanks’;
Teachers are earthly angels in high ranks!
Think of some way of expressing your love;
Gift them something to tell them they were great;
Enquire just asking about their health;
Our teachers are our nation’s pride and wealth!
‘Happy Teacher’s Day! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-09-11
poem by John Celes
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Teacher’s Day 2007
Just once a year, comes just one day,
To remember our teachers dear;
To honor them in every way,
And thank them for whatev’r we are!
The world can’t be without teachers-
Such selfless souls unparalleled;
What parents couldn’t do, they reached us,
No matter if they hit or yelled!
The love, they showed, we can’t give back;
Their punishments were also love;
They disciplined our lives for us,
And taught us lessons without fuss!
God bless our teachers on this day;
God meet their needs in every way;
God help me meet them and then say,
‘Oh, thank you teacher, you’re my Fay! ’
poem by John Celes
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The End Of The World
Go if you want to
I never tried to stop you
Know there's a reason
For all of this you're feeling
Low, it's not my call
You couldn't ever love me more
You couldn't love me more
You couldn't love...
Me - I don't show much
It's not that hard to hide you
See in a moment
I can't remember how to
Be all you wanted
I couldn't ever love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love...
You want me to cry and play my part
I want you to sigh and fall apart
We want this like everyone else
Stay if you want to
I always wait to hear you say
There's a last kiss
For all the times you run this way
It's not my fault
You couldn't ever love me more
You couldn't love me more
You couldn't love...
Love me more
Couldn't ever love me more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love
You want me to lie not break your heart
I want you to fly not stop and start
We want us like everything else
Maybe we didn't understand
Not just a boy and a girl
It's just the end of the
End of the world
Me - I don't say much
It's far too hard to make you
See in a moment
I still forget just how to
Be all you wanted
I couldn't ever love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love you more
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fair Thee Well Without Teachers?
ridicule the teachers
gifted teachers with passion heart
society blame teachers
blame teachers for problems
politicians poverty laziness created
blame teachers decades past
for all your problems today
ever heard of night school
upskilling retraining effort
take no guilt no responsibility
blame teachers for problems
fair thee well without teachers?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Depressed Bubble
His eyes twinkled,
When water bowled along,
With a heavy heart full of grief he stood there,
Feeling out of sorts.
Thinking what would happen to his mother,
When she'll know he got a D,
Thinking what would happen to his father,
Knowing his son couldn't reach his expectations.
Hearing his father's footsteps the boy ran away,
How would he face his father,
How would he face his mother,
What would he say to them?
Only this that they shouldn't have expected much from him,
Or rather blame himself?
His father called out his name,
He couldn't bare the pain,
It was the third time his hard work had went in vain,
The boy thought of nothing,
And while the father reached,
He was horrified for he saw blood stains on the floor,
And no sign of his child.
Teardrops wetted his clothes,
And all that he cited was,
Did you came to see me,
Or did you wished me to go with just tears in my eyes and blood on my hands.....
Written on 10/20/10
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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It's All Relative: : Humour
My mother’s brother’s sister’s name is Grace
She’s my aunt and likes to go from place to place
My mother’s sister’s brother’s name is Brad
He’s my uncle and he is my cousin’s Dad
My grandmother on my mother’s side
Is my maternal gran, she is my grandfather’s bride
She also is my father’s mother-in-law
And not surprisingly they often go to war
My cousin is the nephew of my mother
His father happens to be my mother’s brother
My aunty’s niece is in fact myself
If you're confused please don't look at me for help
(Sydney, Australia - 2005)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Parents are the builder of children’s characters and minds,
The mother won’t be a fighter but should be a well preacher,
If she is an illiterate she must carry her children to tuition,
Howsoever the mother should educate their children first,
And she should send her children to school daily and regularly,
Teachers are not blamed not to fulfil children’s educational thirst,
Both the parents and teachers should make them the best citizens,
As we can’t work with one hand likewise we can’t walk with one leg,
Hence, parents and teachers are the same faces of the same coin,
If parents and teachers do them careless they suffer in life to beg,
Do well and have well it is said to see your own profit in life or ruin,
That is why parents and teachers are the best artists of the child,
If an art is spoilt the statue of the child looks like an ugly and a wild.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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The Angry Young Man
He had so much anger, so much hate
To lash out at someone he couldn’t wait
An innocent bystander walking down the street
This was the one that he would beat.
If she had suspected what lied ahead
She would have turned her back and fled.
With fists flaring he knocked her to the ground
Her jaw broken - she couldn’t make a sound
They say they don’t know how she survived
With the extent of her injuries
they was sure she would die.
She gave a description of what he looked like
And before blacking out she started to fight
They caught him with the description she gave
They saw that he was full of anger and rage.
They say from his step father he had been abused
And fighting back was of no use.
His mother did not believe what he had said
And she turned - and sent him to bed.
He now blamed his mother for what
His step father had done
no one to turn to, no where to run.
She should have - defended her son.
He and his step father are both in jail
Because his mother had truly failed
To hold a man she did not watch her son
Now look at what he has gone and done.
(child abuse can create stories such as this)
poem by Louis Rams
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Picking Teachers For Their Leader
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
My steps cease to seek a quickened pace.
There is no wish for leaving.
I am told in my mind I should stay.
Soft voices dance within rainbowed light!
Sparkling to convince...
I should pray with faith.
And they would make my life right!
Picking teachers for their Leader.
For the One never shown.
The One who through scriptures...
Repeated to make appear,
But left still for them to go unknown.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
How they do it like it's done...
When they come,
Nobody knows.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
They say He's number One.
Like none other like He,
Upon me with gifts bestowed!
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God demands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God Commands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
And I understand...
Something that I give,
Must be done with giving hands.
And instantly I'm comprehending...
My relationship with my fellowman.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader!
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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(Africa poems) Gloom is what they confuse with true teaching
Old teacher!
You said...
If you're going to be
A street sweeper
Have the decency to be
The Oscar winning street sweeper!
Old teacher!
You said...
If you're going to be a mother
Make sure you mother them
To be responsible patriotic Africans!
Old teacher!
You said...
If you're going to be teachers
And doctors and lawyers
If you're going to represent Africa
In the sports arenas and the world forums
Do so with pride and dignity and brilliance!
Old teacher!
You said....
Be not like the plastic teachers
You see whose lessons lack the verve
And the soul and the love
Gloom is what they confuse with
The noble art of teaching
Don't be like them and
Their easy to forget lessons
That are without depth
And it reflects in the backlash of their pupils
Ad they loath their weak teachers
They don't respect them because
They are false teachers
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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My Parents
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
Ilove you i love you
I looking for you
to talk about my heart
which still ill
untill i will see you
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
You are the third one
In my small heart
After ALLAH and
And my prophet MOHAMED
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
Oh ALLAH is ordering us
Not to make them angry
Never to tell them
the smallest word ouufff
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
Oh ALLAH loves who
Makes his parents happy
And forgives those
Who have a lot of mistakes
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
Ilove you i love you
Oh ALLAH enter me
To the higher Firdaous
With my parents and
every single MUSLIM
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
poem by Abderaouf Laoud
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Just Too Grand
I suppose if I wanted,
I could be a prude and standoffish.
With a résumé to prove,
In my life I've accomplished...
What few can and could do.
If...
I chose to put my nose up in the air.
And carried on with that kind of flair.
My mother's father,
Had been a leader of his own band.
Appearing here and there and across the land.
And for some reason then,
I couldn't 'stand' him.
He was just too grand!
And those feelings were mutual.
I just was not impressed.
Today?
I can understand why he was that way.
And I hope he has forgiven me for saying,
Whenever he telephoned to speak to my mom...
'Ma, some guy is on the phone claiming to be your father.
You know...
He of the George Frank Roberts Band.'
~That's 'your' grandfather.~
And I'm Sammy Davis, Junior.
Dedicated to my grandfather:
In Loving Memory
George Frank Roberts,
Englewood, New Jersey
'Love you, grand-daddy.
Even though we had 'many' differences,
of opinion.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rednecks unite!
My father is my brother
My sister, with three ears,
Is his significant other.
My sister is my mother
And somehow, also my brother
My father's father am I
The vile thought makes me shudder.
Grandma was a mule,
Grandfather's sperm, she used as fuel
A french aristrocrat,
Made love to my mother, for he prefered his women fat
A letter written for my eyes
Containing news of demine
Said my true mother was some other
And my father, not her brother.
Jubilant and joyous,
My wife is what used to by my sister.. Or brother?
poem by Thy Mother
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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