Prof. Longmuir
It hath been a source of considerable gratification to me that one of my school
teachers afterwards became Professor Longmuir, of Aberdeen. Mr. Longmuir had
large, black, lustrous eyes. He was an enthusiastic geologist and botanist. His
name is referred to by Hugh Millar, as he was one of his correspondents. Longmuir
died at Aberdeen in 1883.
poem by James McIntyre
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Aberdeen
I was over in aberdeen
On my way to new orleans
I was over in aberdeen
On my way to new orleans
Well them aberdeen women told me
They would give me my gasoline
Aberdeen is my home
But they just dont want me around
Aberdeen is my home
But they just dont want me around
Im gonna take these women
Take them out this town
Well just look over yonder
Coming down the road
Well just look over yonder
Coming down the road
That must be my baby coming
Tell me she dont want me no more
Well theres too many women
I aint never seen
Well theres too many women
I aint never seen
I bring too many women
Back from new orleans
I was standin round cryin
With my heart right in my hand
I was standin round cryin
With my heart right in my hand
I was lookin for that woman
One aint got no man
Well just look over yonder
Where we used to live
Well just look over yonder
Where we used to live
Dont you know its killing me baby
How we cant live here no more
Well its goodbye baby
If Im never gonna see you no more
Well its goodbye baby
If Im never gonna see you no more
Im gonna tell everybody youve been
Still knockin at my door
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Ballad of Aberdeen (Mild Green Vipers)
The mild green vipers of Aberdeen
Are often heard but seldom seen.
They hiss like a kettle when it boils
And crush small rodents in their coils,
They slither through the summer grasses
Invisible to whoever passes,
Few mortal folk have ever seen
The mild green vipers of Aberdeen,
But many hear their wicked hiss
And shake in terror because of this.
You'll never guess where they have been
Unless you ask the Scottish Queen.
She'll smile and tell you very slowly
In the name of all that is Pure and Holy
That nothing lives that's so obscene
As the mild green vipers of Aberdeen.
Long, long ago, it says in fable
King Arthur's Knights of the old Round Table
Sent them to Scotland as a jest
To put the Haggises to rest.
So now you know from the Scottish Queen
About those vipers mild and green.
Do not presume that you are clever
Or you won't see them - never ever!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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My Last Assembly In School
A VERY FRUITFUL MORNING
TO THE GLITTERING STUDENTS
AND THE TEACHERS CHARMING
IT REALLY FEELS FANTASTIC
TO SEE U ALL ENTHUSIASTIC
OUR HEAD MISTRESS GAVE US A TOKEN
A PRESTIGIOUS CHANCE TO BE SPOKEN
SO WE ARE HERE TO SHARE OUR WARMTH AND COLD
THE MOMENTS SPENT HERE WERE AS PRECIOUS AS GOLD
STUDYING MADE ALL OF US HORRIFIED
BUT NOW IT MADE US DIGNIFIED
OUR TEACHERS SUPPORTED US BY SAYING WE ARE ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU
SO LOVING TEACHERS FOR THAT CONCERN WE ALL THANK YOU
OUR SCHOOL GAVE US GR8 OPPOURTUNITIES
TO PROVE OURSELVES AND ACQUIRE MORE NUMBER OF TROPHIES
WHY WE HAVE TO LEAVE THE SCHOOL AND WHY WE HAVE TO GO?
WE TENTH STANDARD STUDENTS WANTS THE TIME TO PASS SLOW
BUT TIME NEVER WAITS
TIME DECIDES FATES
IN ITSELF YOU DEBATE AND CREATE
IN TIME ITSELF YOU LOVE OR HATE
THERE IS TIME TO WAIT WAIT FOR SOME ONE
BUT TIME WAITS FOR NONE
ROYAL EMBASSY GAVE US THE KNOWLEDGE OF ISLAM
HOW TO BE HUMBLE, HELPFUL AND CALM
NEVER TO HAVE HESITATION, INSECURITY AND CONSPIRACY
THAT'S ALL TEACHES OUR ROYAL EMBASSY
AS IT HAS SHOWN US THE PATH WHICH IS RIGHT
MAY ALLAH TAKE THIS SCHOOL TO A GREATER HEIGHT.................
DEDICA TED TO MY LOVING SCHOOL, TEACHERS AND FRIENDS
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
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My Sweet School
School is where one learns,
Kowledge is what one earns,
Teachers, friends are a part of school,
Without them, a school, isnt a school,
A teacher's duty is to teach,
And a student's duty is to breach,
When parents get the complain,
The teacher's trust then, gets hard to retain,
Oh! It's recess,
But to her heart there is no access,
Boy tries to impress girl,
But oh! She's a knurl,
Recess is over and class has resumed,
Next exam, God! I am doomed,
I know I won't pass,
Coz I know Im a bass,
Walking back home in the evening,
It feels like my stress is lessening,
Im happy to be home,
Coz there is every place to roam,
Back to school, early in the morning,
I see it is snowing,
I'm back to a place of learning,
Knowlegde is what Im earning,
School is a source of knowlegde,
The best part in my life is being at this stage,
It includes everything,
And it lacks nothing,
Teachers, friends are a part of a school,
Without which a school isn't a school..............
poem by Sherbanu Molu
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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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School Is Out
School is out
No more getting up early
Just having fun
No more annoy teachers and homework
Summer is here
School is out
Come on and scream with me
I just want to chill out and relax
After long year of school and hardwork
Summer is here
School is out
I can do what ever I want
Staying up late, having party/sleepover
I can be crazy and loud if I want and noone can stop me
Summer is here
School is out
No more lectures from teachers
No more rules or detetion
Hanging with my friends
Going to beach and having all fun I can
Summer is here
School is out
Wohooo, yea
All I want to do is scream and dance
No more never end work and annoy people
It's all about fun in the sun
Summer is here
School is out
No more getting up early
Just having fun
No more annoy teachers and homework
Summer is here
School is out
poem by Christina Phan
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The Inauguration of the University College
Good people of Dundee, your voices raise,
And to Miss Baxter give great praise;
Rejoice and sing and dance with glee,
Because she has founded a College in Bonnie Dundee.
Therefore loudly in her praise sing,
And make Dundee with your voices ring,
And give honour to whom honour is due,
Because ladies like her are very few.
'Twas on the 5th day of October, in the year of 1883,
That the University College was opened in Dundee,
And the opening proceedings were conducted in the College Hall,
In the presence of ladies and gentlemen both great and small.
Worthy Provost Moncur presided over the meeting,
And received very great greeting;
And Professor Stuart made an eloquent speech there,
And also Lord Dalhousie, I do declare.
Also, the Right Hon W. E. Baxter was there on behalf of his aunt,
And acknowledged her beautiful portrait without any rant,
And said that she requested him to hand it over to the College,
As an incentive to others to teach the ignorant masses knowledge,
Success to Miss Baxter, and praise to the late Doctor Baxter, John Boyd,
For I think the Dundonians ought to feel overjoyed
For their munificent gifts to the town of Dundee,
Which will cause their names to be handed down to posterity.
The College is most handsome and magnificent to be seen,
And Dundee can now almost cope with Edinburgh or Aberdeen,
For the ladies of Dundee can now learn useful knowledge
By going to their own beautiful College.
I hope the ladies and gentlemen of Dundee will try and learn knowledge
At home in Dundee in their nice little College,
Because knowledge is sweeter than honey or jam,
Therefore let them try and gain knowledge as quick as they can.
It certainly is a great boon and an honour to Dundee
To have a College in our midst, which is most charming to see,
All through Miss Baxter and the late Dr Baxter, John Boyd,
Which I hope by the people of Dundee will long be enjoyed
Now since Miss Baxter has lived to see it erected,
I hope by the students she will long be respected
For establishing a College in Bonnie Dundee,
Where learning can be got of a very high degree.
"My son, get knowledge," so said the sage,
For it will benefit you in your old age,
And help you through this busy world to pass,
For remember a man without knowledge is just like an ass.
I wish the Professors and teachers every success,
Hoping the Lord will all their labours bless;
And I hope the students will always be obedient to their teachers
And that many of them may leam to be orators and preachers.
I hope Miss Baxter will prosper for many a long day
For the money that she has given away,
May God shower his blessings on her wise head,
And may all good angels guard her while living and hereafter when dead.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Parity on colour
The white prefer being referred to as the white.
The black mind being referred to as the black.
The white have pleasure to refer to the black as black
No parity without psychological evenness.
25.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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North Sea Oil
Black and viscous --- bound to cure blue lethargy
Sugar-plum petroleum for energy
Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve
Oh, please believe we want to be
In north sea oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday
Hot-air balloon --- inflation soon will make you pay
Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave
But well be saved and what we crave
Is north sea oil
Prices boom in aberdeen and london town
Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown
Before we are all nuclear --- the better way!
Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
In north sea oil
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School and teachers
You go to school
everyday
just to be told
you can't do it that way
you have to do it my way
it is in the rules
and you think
school isn't cool
teachers think they're all that
and that they can control us
but sometimes I wish my teachers
would get hit by a bus
I know that sounds mean
but I haven't even said
that school everyday
I always dread
It feels like a prison
with no escape
why oh why
am I bound to this fate?
Of course we have to go to school
we have to all week
but couldn't school be more fun
instead of really starting to reek!
But we have to go through it
all 12 grades
and we have to go to college
what a bad day!
The days drag on
they never end
until the bells rings
and I run as fast as I can
It's almost christmas break
and I can't wait
because more days at school
I just can't take.
School sucks
and I think it is bad
and even though we are tortured
it isn't all bad
I guess what i'm trying to say is
school can sometimes be good
and you learn stuff
and that's is sorta good
so school is boring
and is not really fun
but we will get through it
and then for joy we will jump
poem by Shelbie Bozeman
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School Just School
School we need it
school, friends
school you have teachers
school is great
high school is even better
college, PARITES
school you mite find your true love
new experiences everyday
school, dances
school just school
school who dose not love it
school is fun
school, preps
school, classes
school, math, science, computer classes
school is great love it
school just school
we need school
poem by Kerri King
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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
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School Is Not The Life For Me
school is boring
school cant get us anywhere
school is a waste of time
school is so rubbish
school is not fair
school is not the right education
school is a bore
school is so lame
schhol is such a waste
school is where teachers belong
school is where there is so much hate
poem by Michelle Louise Commons
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Left the ranch in 1883, went to California, going through the States and territories, reached Ogden the latter part of 1883, and San Francisco in 1884.
quote by Calamity Jane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Redirected Rage At Students Unblessed-Thank God, I'm No Longer Possessed.
Redirected rage tossed aside it's predestined path...
Can't blame 'nother problem by school and math.
In high school i was at a stand still in summer school math
and American history...
Never got an a or even a dee.
T'was just an eff just due to me.
I did not want ta become a rocket scientist or teacher of years
in time...
What law had i broken? -What caught was my crime?
Art and English were just my best subjects...
That fact was clear to my teachers, no lie or not even a false pretext or subtext.
As a teenager i was hard to control...
The grade school hall monitor was always out on Mike Gale patrol.
Fights were attracted to me as like a mighty over powering magnet...
That should seem to all readers of this bad fact that is solomnly
tragic.
I just don't know how my teachers put up with me...
The school board had unanomously had voted for a teachers pay increase for observence of yours truly.
Overtime was their only way...
That's how teachers who broke school rules were forced to pay.
I'm just glad to this day that i've matured and changed...
Thank God Almighty-I'm no longer deranged.
poem by Michael Gale
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Jonathan Jo
Jonathan Jo
Has a mouth like an 'O'
And a wheelbarrow full of surprises;
If you ask for a bat,
Or for something like that,
He has got it, whatever the size is.
If you're wanting a ball,
It's no trouble at all;
Why, the more that you ask for, the merrier -
Like a hoop and a top,
And a watch that won't stop,
And some sweets, and an Aberdeen terrier.
Jonathan Jo
Has a mouth like an 'O,'
But this is what makes him so funny:
If you give him a smile,
Only once in a while,
Then he never expects any money!
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Ellen McJones Aberdeen
MACPHAIRSON CLONGLOCKETTY ANGUS McCLAN
Was the son of an elderly labouring man;
You've guessed him a Scotchman, shrewd reader, at sight,
And p'r'aps altogether, shrewd reader, you're right.
From the bonnie blue Forth to the lovely Deeside,
Round by Dingwall and Wrath to the mouth of the Clyde,
There wasn't a child or a woman or man
Who could pipe with CLONGLOCKETTY ANGUS McCLAN.
No other could wake such detestable groans,
With reed and with chaunter - with bag and with drones:
All day and ill night he delighted the chiels
With sniggering pibrochs and jiggety reels.
He'd clamber a mountain and squat on the ground,
And the neighbouring maidens would gather around
To list to the pipes and to gaze in his een,
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.
All loved their McCLAN, save a Sassenach brute,
Who came to the Highlands to fish and to shoot;
He dressed himself up in a Highlander way,
Tho' his name it was PATTISON CORBY TORBAY.
TORBAY had incurred a good deal of expense
To make him a Scotchman in every sense;
But this is a matter, you'll readily own,
That isn't a question of tailors alone.
A Sassenach chief may be bonily built,
He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, and kilt;
Stick a skein in his hose - wear an acre of stripes -
But he cannot assume an affection for pipes.
CLONGLOCKETY'S pipings all night and all day
Quite frenzied poor PATTISON CORBY TORBAY;
The girls were amused at his singular spleen,
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN,
"MACPHAIRSON CLONGLOCKETTY ANGUS, my lad,
With pibrochs and reels you are driving me mad.
If you really must play on that cursed affair,
My goodness! play something resembling an air."
Boiled over the blood of MACPHAIRSON McCLAN -
The Clan of Clonglocketty rose as one man;
For all were enraged at the insult, I ween -
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.
"Let's show," said McCLAN, "to this Sassenach loon
That the bagpipes CAN play him a regular tune.
Let's see," said McCLAN, as he thoughtfully sat,
"'IN MY COTTAGE' is easy - I'll practise at that."
He blew at his "Cottage," and blew with a will,
For a year, seven months, and a fortnight, until
(You'll hardly believe it) McCLAN, I declare,
Elicited something resembling an air.
It was wild - it was fitful - as wild as the breeze -
It wandered about into several keys;
It was jerky, spasmodic, and harsh, I'm aware;
But still it distinctly suggested an air.
The Sassenach screamed, and the Sassenach danced;
He shrieked in his agony - bellowed and pranced;
And the maidens who gathered rejoiced at the scene -
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.
"Hech gather, hech gather, hech gather around;
And fill a' ye lugs wi' the exquisite sound.
An air fra' the bagpipes - beat that if ye can!
Hurrah for CLONGLOCKETTY ANGUS McCLAN!"
The fame of his piping spread over the land:
Respectable widows proposed for his hand,
And maidens came flocking to sit on the green -
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.
One morning the fidgety Sassenach swore
He'd stand it no longer - he drew his claymore,
And (this was, I think, in extremely bad taste)
Divided CLONGLOCKETTY close to the waist.
Oh! loud were the wailings for ANGUS McCLAN,
Oh! deep was the grief for that excellent man;
The maids stood aghast at the horrible scene -
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.
It sorrowed poor PATTISON CORBY TORBAY
To find them "take on" in this serious way;
He pitied the poor little fluttering birds,
And solaced their souls with the following words:
"Oh, maidens," said PATTISON, touching his hat,
"Don't blubber, my dears, for a fellow like that;
Observe, I'm a very superior man,
A much better fellow than ANGUS McCLAN."
They smiled when he winked and addressed them as "dears,"
And they all of them vowed, as they dried up their tears,
A pleasanter gentleman never was seen -
Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Surprise in Japan - Our teachers wash our toilets
after the lessons
our japanese teacher washes
the toilets we use
I was rather surprised when our japanese teacher in the school we went to in Ichikawa told us teachers take turn to wash the school toilets.
I suppose the school wanted to cut cost and the teachers did not mind since they loved teaching and the school.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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