I stopped and gazed on the little dull man who was being paid to be a teacher of teachers. I turned and walked to the door, slammed it closed with a bang, and broken glass crashed to the floor. There was uproar behind me in the class, which did not interest me at all.
Related quotes
In The Art Class
I look around this joyful room,
Amongst the peaceful teens
This is perhaps the only class
Where students are not machines
In the art class they’ll smile
In the art class they’ll yell
In the art class they‘ll be kind
And not raise a hell
Many teachers wonder why this is so
Many teachers wonder where the secret lies
The secret to peaceful teens, which enjoy their work
The secret to the students without depressed cries
The students wonder how they could not get it
How they could not understand
How the teachers don’t realise
That in the art room there are no demands
In the maths class there are complications
In the English room there is language
But in the art room there is only creativity
It is that which students which to salvage
The art teacher is simple and kind
The art teacher doesn’t lecture or scream
The art teacher doesn’t force them to be equal
And make a most horrendous scene
No, in the art class they are not equal
But the differences they admire
They have a writer, a painter and a sculptor
And they have freedom to aspire
Freedom is what the students wish
The students wish to be treated like people
In the art class they are treated as such
In other classes they are believed incapable
The students will always be at peace in the art room
There will be no fights, no pain, and no scorn
The other teachers will wonder what the secret is
But their attempts to find out will always be forlorn
poem by Lenore Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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An angel was passing through the Sky
Hey! Anyone can answer me what's life.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is dream.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is fear.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is mind.
All the hands in the class go down.
Time was passing, without a single sound.
Classroom was fulfilled by husky wind.
'Last bench corner '
'Last bench corner ', hey! you tell me.
The boy was looking far far away behind the window grills.
Stood up.
Placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes.
An angel was passing through the Sky.
poem by Sougata Majumder
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Teacher Says, Teacher Goes
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smiles,
teacher knows,
what you have done,
was clearly a mistake,
maybe it is,
time for a break.
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smiles,
teacher knows,
that you have been naughty.
That you have been quite foughty.
That you are being rude,
don't call teacher a dude.
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smilies,
teacher know,
that you were making faces,
behind teachers back,
that you were throwing spitballs,
at the teacher's pet.
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smiles,
teacher knows.
So enough is said,
so now you know,
that whatever you do.....
Teacher says,
Teacher goes,
Teacher smilies,
Teacher knows
poem by Jasmine Aira
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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About Last Night.....
i finally went to bed at
1: 30 a.m. and when i undress myself
as i usually do,
when i turned off the light
you turned it on
in a little while you while naked
went up bed
and walked towards the door
opened it and then closed it again
as though darkness
when the lights were turned off again
was a big mouth
eating the whole of your naked body
and then
gone
i wished i were asleep.
but it wasn't
because the following morning
the whole room was as silent as
clothes on the floor
without a body.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bang & Blame
If you could see yourself now, baby
Its not my fault
You used to be so in control
Youre going to roll right over this one
Just roll me over, let me go
Youre laying blame
Take this as no, no, no
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
If you could see yourself now baby,
The tables have turned
The whole world hinges on your swings
Your secret life of indiscreet discretions
Id turn the screw and leave the screen,
Dont point your finger,
You know thats not my thing
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
Youve got a little worry,
I know it all too well,
Ive got your number,
But so does every kiss-and-tell
Who dares to cross your threshold,
Or happens on your way,
Stop laying blame.
You know thats not my thing.
You know thats not my thing,
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
You kiss on me, tug on me, rub on me, jump on me,
You bang on me, beat on me, hit on me, let go on me,
You let go on me.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He-o
He-o he came walking down my street
He-o and he stopped in front of my door
He-o and he knocked on the door a long while
He-o then he turned and he walked away
He-o then he turned and he walked away
He-o and he never came back again
He-o I wasnt at home that day
He-o and I never found out that he came
[interlude]
He-o he came walking down my street
He-o and he stopped in front of my door
He-o and he knocked on the door a long while
He-o then he turned and he walked away
He-o then he turned and he walked away
He-o and he never came back again
He-o I wasnt at home that day
He-o and I never found out that he came
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bang And Blame
If you could see yourself now, baby
Its not my fault
You used to be so in control
Youre going to roll right over this one
Just roll me over, let me go
Youre laying blame
Take this as no, no, no, no, no
You bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Its not my thing so let it go
If you could see yourself now, baby
The tables have turned
The whole world hinges on your swings
Your secret life of indiscreet discretions
Id turn the screw and leave the screen
Dont point your finger
You know thats not my thing
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Its not my thing so let it go now
Youve got a little worry
I know it all too well
Ive got your number
But so does every kiss and tell
Who dares to cross your threshold
Or happens on you way
Stop laying blame
You know thats not my thing
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Its not my thing so let it go
You bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
Its not my thing so let it go
You kiss on me, tug one me
Rub on me, jump on me
You bang on me, beat on me
Hit on me, let go on me
You let go on me
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maybe Maybe She Remembers Me Again
i imagined her again
that early evening when she over drank her wine
she was bent at nothing
but simply to relax herself a bit
from a broken heart
she was tipsy, she walked towards that room
dimly lighted, she did not close the door
she undressed herself
walked naked and laid herself
on the carpeted floor
which i could see from where i was seated
trying to compose myself
in my own way of recovering from an old wound
she stood again went back to the door to close it
as i did not follow her
she did not smile
neither did she speak a word
but i understood
the following morning she dressed herself
put on her shoes
whistling her way out of the door then closed it
i went back to the usual pretense
i slept
till ten.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard To Believe
Its very hard as rock
Soft as butter
To respect your teacher
To wish a teacher
May be its right
May not be its right.
Teachers are with variety
Personal variety, proffessional sequence
Thinking, Finding and Rewinding
This is how some are
Hardly difficult to respect
Softly to quite from teacher.
A teacher is ultimate
Supreme to any power
They are the over soul
Life ends or trends
By the immortal souls
Such teachers are rare.
May be you do with
Sometimes you don't
Prepositional elements can end
When a teacher of a kind
Like the catcher in the hell
Hard to believe such teachers.
Teacher is the only truth
He or She the only belief
Trust and belief the other name
When that trust itself is broken
From and by a teacher
Can you believe?
Am sure its hard to believe.
Wish and love and care
Must be submitted to a teacher
Surrendered with respect
Become subaltern under teacher.
Disciples are free from Karma
Liberated after their submission
Recieving with honour, love
Is the only Karma of a teacher.
She kicked me for submission
She insulted my wishes
She bombarded me for my Karma
Gave strong pain in my -.
Is She a teacher?
Is She a mother?
Is She should be regarded?
Is She should be rewarded?
Its hard to believe her.
No student forgive her
No one believe her
No one should wish her
I hope you wont.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
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The Elevator
I was on the ground floor
and I wanted level five.
I pressed the call button
and waited for it to arrive.
It arrived with no one in it,
so I entered and closed the door.
It took its time to get going,
then slowed for the next floor.
The doors hesitated then opened,
but no one was there,
but I definitely felt a presence
and a disturbance in the air.
I was standing still and anxious
when the lift shook from side to side.
The doors closed and up it went to three
where the doors opened wide.
Again no one was there waiting,
but I felt someone get in.
Movement in the air and floor
was most unsettling.
I was overwhelmed and nervous
as it approached level four.
It stopped, but no one was waiting,
just like the stops before.
The elevator paused for a second
and I swear someone got in.
I was certain that I heard whispering
as the elevator set off again.
The space felt uncomfortably eerie
cold, but very much alive.
The rotten egg smell made me sickly,
as we went passed level five.
The light suddenly turned to darkness,
and I could see forms and shapes.
They were pushing each other violently,
as we approached level eight.
I pressed the emergency button,
but we still passed eight, nine, and ten.
At level eleven the elevator stopped…
then began to go down again.
At eight the elevator came to a halt
and everyone but me got out.
The darkness became light again,
so relieved, I gave out a shout.
The elevator continued downwards
and stopped at the ground floor.
An old lady and her dog waiting to enter,
but I couldn’t exit the elevator door.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Misled
Children learn fast these days,
hurling the elders into wonder.
Three Class- Two students
stole out of the school,
approached an egg- vendor.
The cat of them engaged the vendor
in an interesting conversation.
The rat of them pilfered the eggs
and passed down to the third, the bat,
squatting on the floor under a bench
on which the goods were kept.
The bat stored the eggs in his trouser- pocket
and walked back to the class with a soaked trouser.
The teacher called them in as the Sun was hot,
and frying every living thing.
The teacher was kind but strict to truant children,
smelt unpleasant and asked them
why that odour of a broken egg from them?
One fellow bent forward to clean his wet pocket
and an egg from his pocket in the shirt fell down,
got broken, embalmed the floor and betrayed them.
Their tact in planning and execution
made the masters speechless.
I put them under school- arrest
and ordered them to report to me every 2 hours.
I took that action to save them
from being kidnapped by
the underworld barons or
international criminals or the drug traffickers
for grooming them in their trades.
They are inmates of a private Home
receiving funds from abroad.
It is a case of sweated labour and not child labour.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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In The Middle Of...
He broke her heart
in the middle of the day.
He slammed the door
and walked away.
She broke his heart
in the middle of the night.
She shut the door
as she walked out of sight.
He brought her flowers
in the middle of the day.
She smiled at him
and walked away.
She gave him comfort
in the middle of the night.
He smiled at her
as he turned out the light.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For My History Teacher
I’m sitting in class,
My eyes about to close,
I hope teacher don’t see,
I hope she don’t see me.
Bored out of my mind,
Falling so behind,
Cannot concentrate,
I came to class too late.
Although I was on time,
My body was I mean,
My mind is still outside,
From class trying to hide.
What does all this mean?
I haven’t used it yet,
How can I retain it,
When already I forget?
And then she walks over,
That teacher of mine,
A smile in her eyes,
A gentle one at that,
She puts her hand on me,
And sets me kind of free.
Now here I am in class,
Learning about the past,
About history,
And what it did for me.
How we can learn,
From mistakes of old,
Of people so different,
Some so very bold.
Some stood against oppression,
Some stood against the wrong,
Some said it with dignity,
Some said it with a song.
I owe it to them,
And teacher here to hear,
What they did for us,
And no longer fear.
That knowledge is so dull,
No longer hurts my brain,
No longer hurts my skull,
It will surely keep me sane.
The past is the future,
Unless I stay awake,
So I can benefit,
There’s much more at stake.
Than I thought before,
Before I got to class,
Thank you History teacher,
For bringing to life the past.
I never got bored in History class, because I had a wonderful History Teacher. This is for her.
poem by Aisha Sherazi
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That's Not Enough
She was a bad thing coming,
But I did not know.
And everytime I came over she told me I had to go.
I said "Hey, what's going on? I really want to know."
She said "I cannot tell you now, but I'll call you tomorrow."
That's not enough.
I want more.
I want it all.
I want to bang on your front door.
Turn off the lights
And shut out the world.
Cause at the end of the day,
Aren't we all just boys and girls?
Yeah
She's snake me with sophisication,
So much class.
She drinks a Santa margarita,
Would you like a glass?
I don't know how to say no
And after three or four,
I was on the floor,
Singing my song,
La la la
No no.
That's not enough.
I want more.
I want it all.
I want to bang on your front door.
Turn off the lights
And shut out the world.
Cause at the end of the day,
Aren't we all just boys and girls?
Yeah...
La la la.
No no.
That's not enough.
I want more.
I want it all.
I want to bang on your front door.
Turn off the lights
And shut out the world.
Cause at the end of the day,
Aren't we all just boys and girls?
Aren't we all just boys and girls?
Aren't we all just boys and girls? (all just boys and girls)
Oh yeah. Oh
Aren't we all just boys and girls?
Aren't we all just boys and girls?
Yeah... oh.
song performed by by Maroon 5
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My class
My class is a funny class
When the teacher is not in
Our class is a circus
That will conquer the school
We have acrobats
We have clowns
and we even have elephants
My class is a noisy class
When the teacher is not in
Our class is a market
That will conquer the school
We have hawkers
We have fruiterers
and we even have butchers
No matter what
A circus or a market
We enjoy our class
When the teacher is not in
poem by Sarah Ally
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Arrangement Of Priorities
i got a cup of hot
green tea
on top of a pile of
legal folders
i got a window
made of glass
up the second floor
and i could see
what is happening
down the road
i got a closed door
a dusty floor
and a shining pen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The secondary school announced the result of a list of successful candidates
Went down to the playground, principal had a talk.
Walked in a hard step, took a deep breathe.
Our class teacher gave us the result paper,
Everyone was silent,
No any voice, No any noise,
I can only hear thousand of breathing sound.
Hold tightly, ready to open,
3...2...1...,3...2... I can’t,
I am not brave enough to open it.
It was going to be ok.
I think for a while,
Closed my eyes,
My excitement came to my heart, but sadness was waiting for me.
I slowly opened the paper finally gradually.
Opened my eyes slowly,
Wahl! My tears went through my both eyes.
I don’t want to go to this school,
I was thinking, oh well… I can apply for another school, may be it worked.
My class teacher was convincing me to go to this school,
My mother was thinking the solution for me.
I went out to the school door, took a slowly walk,
I really didn’t know what I can do,
Worrying, deeply anxious and struggling,
I tried to think about the advantage of this school.
Yes! I pick this school. I‘ll do well!
poem by Jenkin Tsui
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Angelic Me
My teacher told me to behave
But behaving’s what I never craved
She thought I acted too outlandish
Just being me was too out-Stan-dish
The girl’s pigtail in the inkwell soaked
How it got there was my little joke
I whistled when teacher turned her back
Music’s what our classroom lacked
To the principals’ office I was sent
It clearly became a daily event
She told him I was rude and frightful
Yet my friends in class thought me delightful
My mother when she came to school
He told her I was the classroom fool
She didn’t believe that awful man
Could say that of her angel Stan
Whistlers’ mother, she knew best
She knew her son was not a pest
So much to my teachers’ dismay
I was back in class the very next day
The inkwell reclaimed that girls’ pigtail
The teacher warned, but to no avail
Behind back whistles, once more the norm
Angelic me was back in form
poem by Stanley Cooper
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