To My Most Beloved School-Teacher, Mr. B.E. Coates
Dressed in coat and suit and tie,
Anglo-Indian Teacher my;
Wearing shoes with shine always;
Tall in stature, meek, honest, Ayes!
Speaking English in great style;
Punctual, walking ev’n a mile;
Teaching subjects ardently;
A gentle-man seen, quite rarely!
He taught us English with great care,
Like how Englishmen would dare;
Its nuances, he laid thread-bare,
Pronouncing with Anglo-air!
He made the class so interesting;
Chiding mischief, not punishing;
A pious man who forgave fast;
Advising students till the last.
He was my class-teacher at times;
And read us poetry with rhymes;
He taught us Geography as well;
‘Be hard-working, ’ he’d always tell.
Because of him, I loved English,
And rose to levels, many wish;
He taught us Catechism too,
And say in life, ‘How do you do? ’
My teacher most-beloved was he;
He fanned my sparks of poesy!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-11-2007
Dedicated most lovingly to
Master BE Coates, CGMS, CBE
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
Teacher’s Day in India
Teacher’s Day in India is today-
Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan’s birthday;
A great educationist, Indian;
A former President of our nation;
A teacher par excellence;
An exemplary role-model to all.
Let’s celebrate this day
In a special way,
By remembering our teachers,
Who’d taught us all these years.
A teacher is a tutor;
A teacher is a scholar;
A teacher is a special friend;
A guide and philosopher
In students’ lives- a Godsend!
Our teachers are great minds;
Our teachers are rare finds;
Their love and precept binds
As students’ life-years winds!
God bless our teachers (dears):
God give them healthy years;
God meet their wants sans fears,
And make them mighty seers.
Like parents, he/she rears;
God rank them as great peers;
But keep them free from tears,
When their life’s end nears.
Dedicated most respectfully to
all our beloved teachers
on 5th September,2006
Copyright by Dr John Celes, India
poem by John Celes
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Where they belonged
When I was in metric
(now grade twelve)
in the agricultural science class
an English girl took a chair
next to me
who had a secret crush
without getting
any attention from me.
I just wasn’t taken with her
and she was a little brash
and they lived
on the other side
of the railway tracks
and she had a reputation
of sleeping around.
When we studied
animal copulation
she acted as if
she didn’t really understand
and asked me some questions
which made me blush
and it was clear
that she had other plans instead.
Ignoring her didn’t help much
and heart broken she went to cry
on her sister’s shoulder
who was my class teacher
and taught me English
at the time.
We did an IQ test
(the first in my years at school)
and I scored only too well
and without really knowing
my personal circumstances
the teacher told the class
that I was lazy,
but much more than that
she marked my English grades down.
I didn’t know what had got into her
and in the second quarter
like a angel from heaven
a female inspector
(specializing in English)
visited the school.
She couldn’t understand
why my marks had slipped so much
and we had a very nice chat
where she demanded
all my English books and tests.
She graded everything again,
my grades took a hike,
the teacher was called in
and almost did the same
and after that
my grades were where
they belonged.
poem by Gert Strydom
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To a Teacher of Teachers (in Paediatrics)
I, your pupil know your worth;
I, a teacher know your girth;
I, a doctor know your birth
Gave doctor-teachers, mirth!
I, a colleague can world tell,
‘You had made your students swell;
You had taught indeed so well;
You had tolled the teaching-bell! ’
We, your students thank you Doc;
You were key to our world’s lock;
When we did your door ev’r knock,
You gave ken unmatched by clock!
You, a star in our life’s sky;
You were one no one could buy;
You had made our minds so high;
This is truth, whole truth, not lie!
You opened world of children;
You made Paediatrics, heaven;
You taught craft and art woven;
You now make us look even!
We thank you from depths of heart;
We are grateful for our start;
We know not the words to draft;
We hope you must never part!
“You were a doyen;
You were a giant;
You were so erudite
Teacher of Teachers! ”
May God grant you many years;
May God give you peace, not tears;
May God take away your fears;
May you live happy with dears!
(Fondly dedicated to our most beloved
‘Teacher of teachers’, Prof. Dr. M. Ramasamy A.B. (Ped)
Masonic Medical Center, CBE
By Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D., Dean, IRT PMC, Perundurai
On behalf of the Medical Fraternity on Teacher’s Day
at Lotus Hospital on its 11th Anniversary, Erode
Copyright by Dr John Celes 31-08-11
poem by John Celes
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Being bilingual
There is something
in being bilingual
and when I grew up
we were forced
to take both
official languages at school
being English and Afrikaans.
It was another thing
to be taught maths in English,
when your home language is Afrikaans
and where I was taught in Afrikaans
up till then,
at a school that was
supposed to be
double medium
and to really struggle
with unknown terms
and not being able to comprehend
and to this day
I despise Mrs. Ritchie
who thought that I was stupid
and without the teacher caring
or being able
to teach in Afrikaans
I struggled along
but at university
a professor teaching
Algebra and Calculus
really did care
and taught me well.
poem by Gert Strydom
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My School
The school I went to was the best
In Coimbatore town, in those days;
It gave me knowledge and life’s zest,
And made me wholesome, in much ways!
The school was built by Father Pat,
Near Puliakulam road grandly;
In Standard five, I firstly sat,
And loved my school very dearly!
My principal, Father Lawrence
Was strict with students, yet loved them;
My heart was full of reverence,
As every teacher was a gem!
With dedication, teachers taught;
All students got very good marks;
The mischief-makers were soon caught-
Although some were like giant sharks!
Each Monday morn, we wore a tie;
The Indian flag was hoisted then;
We sang the National Anthem high,
And marched to music like big men!
We had our drills, once in a way;
In evenings, we played some games;
And once a year, it was Sports-day!
Some naughty students used nick-names!
But in the class, we were perfect;
We had a desk each to keep books;
Our teachers told every defect;
The naughty ones were caught by looks!
My school-days were the best in life;
We learnt our lessons all by heart;
We never knew the world or strife;
The day arrived then to depart!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-14-2007
Fondly dedicated to all my school-mates
At CGMHSS, CBE
poem by John Celes
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Teacher Man
The Teacher Man teaches kids from all over the world
The Teacher Man teaches no matter boy or girl
The Teacher Man teaches Christans, Musilms, and Jews
The Teacher Man teaches those who say 'God I don't believe in you'
The Teacher Man teaches over demands for more recess
The Teacher Man teaches to only demand the best
The Teacher Man teaches Science, Reading, and Math
The Teacher Man teaches how to live out of class
The Teacher Man teaches all how to share
The Teacher Man teaches that we all should care
The Teacher Man teaches how to keep an open mind
The Teacher Man teaches with a kick in the behind
The Teacher Man teaches there are lessons in life
The Teacher Man teaches how to overcome strife
The Teacher Man teaches there's nothing wrong with a hug
The Teacher Man teaches the world changes with Love
The Teacher Man teaches the rich and the poor
The Teacher Man teaches those who are ready for more
The Teacher Man teaches how to look someone in the eye
The Teacher Man teaches how to accept someone in their cry
The Teacher Man teaches in more than one tounge
The Teacher Man teaches how to make working hard fun
The Teacher Man teaches all the colors of the land
But, most important of all, he teaches we should take a stand
Take a Stand, Take a Stand, for what you believe
Take a Stand, Take a Stand, and you will be free
Take a Stand, Take a Stand, for the least of the least
Take such Stand man, and you will find peace
He's the Teacher Man
poem by Ary Bolanos
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DR JOHN CELES as a Medical Teacher
A man came leaving his home-town, city,
In search of a good medical college,
To teach the poor students with piety,
While sacrificing his dreams and prestige!
He was a doctor and a teacher too;
He loved being a medical teacher;
He spent his life in teaching me and you,
His poetry was his special feature!
He loved his profession of healing, much;
He taught by heart and left never a doubt;
He liked the nurses with their tender touch;
He made each medico to bud and sprout!
The physician became the dean as well;
The place improved under his able care;
He tolls the ‘sincerity-and-truth bell'!
The art of healing was no more a scare!
He showed the world that conscience is prime;
Obedience and discipline are good;
Ethics and laws will find their place with time;
God helps the doctor heal as if He would!
Dedicated to all aspiring medical teachers
By Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D.,
Dean and Professor of Medicine, IRT PMC & H, Perundurai.
Copyright By Dr John Celes 27-10-2012
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: A Teacher
I loved to be a Medical-Teacher;
My Teacher Father was my role model;
His scholarliness was his great feature;
His greatness words can never truly tell.
A Teacher tells whatever, he has known;
And moulds the conduct, character of wards;
He guides his pupils like his very own;
And expects never earthly just rewards.
A Teacher stays a Teacher forever;
None can replace his place uniquely held;
His students must be brighter and clever,
And when that happens, he is much reveled.
The students imbibe Teacher's noble thought;
To hand the same to progeny, they ought.
poem by John Celes
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English Class
English Class
Is supposed to be fun.
But when teachers make you
Listen to them while they talk about
Nothing
You don't really pay attention.
You drift off instead,
Floating around in your head,
Thinking about things that don't make sense
And about sense that don't make things.
You doodle on a page,
Or stare at the walls,
Or read under your desk,
Or stare at the teacher
And wonder how she managed to qualify
To be a teacher when she doesn't even use
Grammar.
I think it's stupid
To waste an hour of my day
Sitting doing nothing.
It's pointless to sit here
When I could do something
More.
I could:
Volunteer,
Or be in Drama class,
Or could be making a movie,
Or helping my mom,
Or hanging out with my friends,
Or helping my brother and sister learn to ski,
Or doing SOMETHING, ANYTHING ELSE.
This class isn't doing
Anything.
I can feel my love for English
Dissapearing.
It's sad that one teacher
Can ruin an
Art form.
poem by Kelsey Tennant
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What Happened to Billy Ray?
As a matter of stature, this man is not very tall.
The stories he tells could fill a shopping mall.
Bill is a word technician in a local high school.
As an English teacher, he is nobody's fool.
Generations of students have learned at his feet.
They will not face the future being incomplete.
How many of us wished we'd had a teacher like Bill?
Thinking of my English teacher still gives me a chill.
Now Bill the Great also likes to fish from time to time.
According to him, his fishing ability is simply sublime.
He worked the worm like strumming a fine instrument.
The poor bass ending up on his hook was his testament.
I write this poem to honor a simple English teacher.
Oh by the way, he once was a country preacher.
Unappreciated by others, he left his current position.
Making more money became his new mission.
In 2006, he had a motorcycle accident that was very grim.
Thereafter, another in his life began to assimilate him.
Resistance proved futile as he had finally become the 'Borg.'
As a result, you'll find our relationship residing in the morgue.
poem by Manager Poet
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Hi I'm A Girl
Hi i'm a girl who wants to be presedent then i'll make people paint there faces pink because the red cheif wants me to and i really need your vote! ! ! ! Ok dalpal, said the teacher looking at me 'your not president yet....' 'ok i said' i mumbred 'i wish she was dead because i'm a poet and she dinny know it i can break a ryme almost everytime and........''QUITE DALPAL! ' Roared the teacher. Sorry but i have a dream....i am floating down the stream and i am ryming my heart out BUT YOU HAVE TO RUNE IT AND SHOUT! i shouted! 'ok dalpal then you can be our new teacher miss.Honey' said the teacher raising her eyebrows. 'i was not ashamed i was quite exited to share mt poems with the class' so i mad my was up the top of my class and said ' if this is this and that is that then you and you = me and me you see. The class stared and thought then i could hear the aaaaawww! They still never knew what i was talking about so i contiued.' the Teacher were cross and me ed fell off thats called london English oh if only there was a thig calle dsinglish and....'OK WELL DONE YOU'V MANAGED TO CONFUZE MY CLASS'said the teacher SO THERE I'V OUT SMATRNED HER and i'ma peot and know she knows it! '
poem by Dalpal Honey
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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
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A Little Teacher
At times a little teacher stands before me
With a smiling face.
And her sweet mouth speaks
Things I have never heard.
A cute girl of early teens,
A teacher of principles self imposed.
In her class I am the lone pupil
And she teaches me ever.
The chambers of my recollections past
Cry for a change perhaps,
My old teachers fade into oblivion
As my new teacher waits to steal in.
My learning is her choice
Though the subjects taught are none new.
No notes, no admonishing and no comparisons!
I begin to learn the mind of a growing child.
There arises only one question-
How long will she teach like this?
As she makes steps forward unto her tomorrows
I shall cease to be her pupil.
My steps are made as well
As the tomorrows won`t leave me alone.
Somewhere I may stand stranded with feeble feet
And the gale of ailments may begin to cross my frame.
Then I shall remember the lessons taught by you
My little teacher, my philosopher once
And I shall hold on to your kind love and care
Oh! My dear daughter, let us stop for now.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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In Praise of Someone
A perfect person, rarely seen;
A teacher always kind, she’s been;
A face of calmness, rare to see;
Soft-spoken soul (you name someone) !
Expert in English – her domain;
Conducting seminars – her lane;
Perfect in everything, she stays;
She loves to help others always.
A strong believer, she fears God;
A lot, she prays – a thing quite odd;
She won the’ Best Teacher Award’;
She’s a director, singer and bard!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-15-2009
poem by John Celes
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Teacher, Teacher
Just when I thought I finally learned my lesson well,
There was more to this than meets the eye.
And for all the things you taught me, only time will tell,
If I'll be able to survive. Oh yeah.
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me all I need to know?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Or will I fall when you let me go? Oh no.
Am I ready for the real world, will I pass the test?
You know it's a jungle out there.
Ain't nothin' gonna stop me, I won't be second best,
But the joke's on those who believe the system's fair, oh yeah.
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me if I'm right or wrong?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
I wanna know what's goin' on, Oh yeah.
So the years go on and on, but nothing's lost or won.
And what you learned is soon forgotten.
They take the best years of your life,
Try to tell you wrong from right,
But you walk away with nothing. Oh Oh.
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me all I need to know?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Or will I fall when you let me go?
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me if I'm right or wrong?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
I wanna know what's goin' on, Oh
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Teacher, teacher, Ooh yeah.
Teacher, teacher
Teacher, teacher
~Adams, Vallance
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Something about my 9th Class Teachers
I had a moral teacher, (Mrs.Shocken)
Who is nothing less than a preacher,
She is always in sparkling white,
Her lectures are also upright; She Is my Best Teacher
I had a teacher in science (Mrs.Asha Doda)
I had always pray for his absence,
As we all are tense,
During his class of no sense.
I Had a maths teacher, (Mr. Krishan Jangra)
Who is a like bully bear,
His tantrums I don't care,
I will never respect him
Not at all...
I think that he has no knowledge about his subject,
that's why i also prefer that period to reject.
Mr.Arun was teaching us history,
He was always in a mystery,
About Him i have nothing to say,
bcz i never notices them
as he was always bzy in Teaching and Cracking Jokes..
I Had a teacher in English, (Mrs. Rama)
She hates us for being childish,
She always behaves bullish,
When home work we don't finish;
She always calls me Bigda hua Bacha
She gives lecture but no one hears.
Mrs.Madan teaching us drawing,
where most of the boys had not created their drawing files...
She is very small in sizeand look like a don(when she wears Black sun glasses)
that' why all call her Chota Don
She is always bzy in giving lectures
about life but no one hears as no one cares....
poem by Puneet Mehta
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A bad or a good teacher
A bad teacher is negatively pessimistic
A good teacher is positively optimistic
A bad teacher swears all the time
A good teacher cares in their prime
A bad teacher passes on rude fear
A good teacher has on good ears
A bad teacher discourages
A good teacher encourages
A bad teacher despairs
A good teacher prepares
A bad teacher likes to bitch
A good teacher likes to teach
A bad teacher shouts every moment
A good teacher scouts for every talent
A bad teacher is up for crude devices
A good teacher is up for good advice
A bad teacher lets students fight on in the dark
A good teacher sets students on the right track
A bad teacher feeds on their looks
A good teachers reads many books
A bad teacher sings along with wrong faults
A good teacher brings along the right results
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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A Good teacher
A Good teacher is one, who teaches with love.
A Good teacher is one, who Corrects Students and make them Grow, Instead of shouting and making them slow.
A Good teacher is one, who makes Things to Flow.
A Good teacher is one, who gets things done as and when.
A Good teacher is one, who never treats a student as Foe.
A Good teacher is one, who Teachings must help in long Run.
A Good teacher is one, who says always it can be done.
A Good teacher is one, who should never make students Run, Instead have Great Fun.
A Good teacher is one, who must be always Bright and Teach Students Right.
A Good teacher is one, who is always a best Friend
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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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
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My Friend the Teacher
Your thoughtful, you’re smart, you’re wise
You’re caring, you’re generous, you don’t despise
With words of wisdom like a preacher
For you’re my friend the teacher
~~~
You’re the light, you’re the prophecy, you’re a guiding star
You’re helpful, your supportive, you care from afar
Teaching others that help has no end
For you’re the teacher my friend
~~~
Now as you look into students eyes hoping to see a sign of yearning
Knowing that you teaching is a fun way of learning
For its larger then any mathematical equation
Clearer then any English sensation
~~~
More knowledgeable then any kind of world history
Even more decipherable then any scientific mystery
More lenient then any P.E. criteria
Even more tempting then any food from a cafeteria
~~~
Because with words of wisdom like a preacher
You’re my friend the teacher
Still teaching others that help has no end
You’re the teacher my friend
poem by Poetic Philosopher
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