En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Schoolmaster

My English teacher was a silly old man
Who referred to me once as an 'insubordinate young pup'!
I suppose we all do the best that we can
And he tried his share of bringing me up.

But the man was a tyrant, there's no doubt about that,
A type that you found in those old boarding schools,
Living all alone in some crummy old flat,
A boring old fart and a stickler for rules.

He'd get in a fury if we made too much noise,
But us youngsters soon had the measure of him,
He was just a sick pervert who fancied young boys
And fondled his balls when we played in the gym! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A teacher who is just right

Have you had a teacher
That makes your heart glow
A teacher is wonderful
A teacher whom you feel honored to have

A teacher who you can laugh or cry with
A teacher whom you can love no matter what they do
A teacher who looks up to you when you don't know
A teacher who just seems to understand you

A teacher who you think about day and night
A teacher whom you pray for as you go to bed
A teacher who is there when need them to
Thoughts of them are always in your head

A teacher who shares with you there ups and downs
A teacher who is there for you in school
A teacher who you share all your smiles with replacing al your frowns

poem by Rosa Tenezaca
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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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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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Silly, Silly Fool

(kenneth gamble / leon huff)
Such a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i
Oh, i, just a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i
Hey, I should have never fallen
Back in love with you
Knowin how you get a pleasure
Breaking my poor heart in two
You made it sound so convincin
When you said
Im your woman, youre my man
Now I really need you
And I sit here a loser again
I guess Im just a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, oh i
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly, fool am i, mmm
I should have never trusted
In my heart to lead the way
Now my mind is all busted
Thats a fools price to pay
You made it sound so convincin
When you said youd never, never go away
I should have never listened
To anything you had to say
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, yes I am
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, oh
Such a silly, silly, dilly, silly, dilly fool am i, oh yeah
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, oh yes I am
Im such a silly, silly, dilly, silly, dilly, silly fool am i, oh yeah
Im such a silly, dilly, silly, dilly, silly fool am i, oh
Silly, dilly

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher, Teacher

Teacher, teacher
I may not love you
But you're the teacher
I try to do what you want me to
I know you get lonely
But you gotta know
It wasn't love
Let me tell you honey
I'm just a young girl
Don't think I know it enough
Teacher, teacher
I don't wanna get an A
Teacher, teacher
There's gotta be a better way
I'm sick and tired of makin' plans
Without makin' up my mind (Make up your mind)
Teacher, teacher
Can't you see I just need a little time
I know you've been cryin'
Just think that you're not alone
Just cry me a river
It's what you'll deliver
We have to do it on the floor
Teacher, teacher
I don't wanna get an A
Teacher, teacher
There's gotta be a better way
(Woohoo, yeah)
Teacher, teacher
I've been tryin' to get you down
But why should you get used to somebody
Who won't be around
I know you get discouraged
Cause you wanna do it all the time
Honey I can't let you use my body
The same way you use my mind
Teacher, teacher
I don't wanna get an A
Teacher, teacher
There's gotta be a better way
[repeats to end]

song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher, Teacher

Teacher, teacher, teacher, teach me now
Teacher, teacher, teacher, guide me now
Teacher, teacher, teacher, show the way
You are my light
You are my guide.

Teacher, teacher, teacher, comfort me
Give your listening ears when I cry
Help me find the strength in what I can
You are my help
You are my guide.

Teacher, teacher, teacher, build me up
When I do wrong, show me what is right
Teacher, teacher, teacher, let us laugh
You are my friend
You are my guide.

poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Gradation of The Institutions

Does the teacher want the child to learn?
It is the kindergarten.
Does the teacher expect it to learn?
It is the school.
Does the teacher suppose it learns?
It is the college
Is the teacher indifferent to its learning?
It is the university.
Is the institution not bothered at all?
It is the distance education.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My English Teacher

At the grade three
A new teacher came
Around her table
A queue we were all in

Having exercise books on our hands
To get written our names on it
Twining with aroma of her perfume
Let the mind not go back to the bench

My English teacher
Not like other teachers
Wearing new dresses
Pleasant smile with snazzy

I bought a double rule book
To write proper English letters
Putting the alphabet of base
Following day had a message

No more with us
Principle's words
Teacher came to us
We cried a lot

"Why may teacher you go leaving us'
'Is our school not good'

While worshiping on her feet
Without an answer
Looking at us
Touched our heads

She got a transfer
Because of our remote dry school

Since then on
Until primary end
Without an English teacher
My texts books were new

She doesn't know me for sure
Placed an aroma still in my mind
You wrote that name of mine
I am writing today.

poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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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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For A Teacher

teacher o so wise all do cry of the
bounty sweet words flowing ever
from your lips.
teacher of the bright lights in Brazil
such students are thrilled by
your love of them.
teacher so skilled wayward the
path you haven chosen
to share.
teacher high in canopy tops from
the winds your hand does hold
the keys for tomorrow.
Teacher, its me now, I am full of you,
still you must teach me more, I wait..

poem by Is It Poetry
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Let's Just Suppose

Let’s just suppose
That over four thousand young men
Got jobs and got married
Became normal Americans and then

Let’s just suppose
These same young men of our new generation
Stayed home and avoided
Nightmares and mutilation

Let’s just suppose
Over four thousand lives were sadly expended
In a hostile land, so far away
In a war built on lies, and is yet open-ended

Let’s just suppose
That many untold billions in funds
Had over four thousand of those young men
Building our country, in lieu of bearing guns

Let’s just suppose
That instead, billions were spent on education
On infrastructure, medical research and homeland defense
Lives better spent, to build a better, stronger nation

Let’s just suppose
That the mad minds in our administration
Had Instead, kept those heroic young boys
safe at home, while still defending our nation

Let’s just wonder
amidst all the war-wager’s noise
Was this one man…Saddam Housein
Worth more than four thousand of our young boys?

Let’s just suppose
This madness we could suspend
All stand together and say “enough is enough.”
We’re not the world’s policemen
This madness must end!

Let’s just propose….
To bring our young men
Back home.

poem by David Whalen
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Girl Eighteen, Teacher Forty

This little story is so tragic
About a young girl who was just eighteen
Her cute lovely name is Monique
The most silly girl I have seen.

Monique had an old crazed professor
Who was a witless half of a man
A forty year old bald predator
Who would get young girls if he can.

One day she ran off with this teacher
And he did the same, left family
Unmindful of his sly, dubious character
Too young to have a grasp of reality.

After five years Monique had three kids
She had lost precious youth and was fat
Her beloved teacher repeated what he did
Got another girl and Monique, he forgot.

Now Monique lost everything but her soul
She would worry 'bout food for tomorrow
She remembered the wife whose husband she stole
And her words - 'You will reap what you sow.'

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Silly Boy

In the days when I was young I never had to cry
If I wanted a lover I did not have to try
But I must have set my expectations far too high
Guess Im just a silly boy
I guess Im just a silly boy
There are some things about love that I dont understand
When you promise your heart you do the best you can
But no matter how I try behaving like a man
Seems Im just a silly boy
I guess Im just a silly boy
This is the last time Ill wait to stand in line
If you dont come see me Im dropping the boom on you
cause when you lose me
Then everyone will see what a silly girl can do
Dont you tell me that its over
Dont you make a sound
til I get to the river or someplace I can drown
cause I put my faith upon you and you let me down
Guess Im just a silly boy
I guess Im just a silly boy

song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?

you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before

that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God

of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly

but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?

well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important

and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,

albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,

yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,

but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound

so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....

dear God
do you really...not speak english?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mr. John Glenn

There once was an apple
That had fallen from a tree
I picked it up, and it was stuck
To my hand, I could'nt get free

So I shook and shook and shook
Until my hand was sore
But from deep inside, I heard a cry
Way inside the core

I ask myself what could it be
A snake or even a worm
Can it breathe or even sneeze
Should I be concerned

But then I heard a voice within
And now I'm really baffled
I'll ask my teacher if there's a creature
Inside this nice red apple

And if she says no, there's no such thing
Why are you asking me this
Cause if I don't ask, this too shall not pass
And i'll be taking a risk

The teacher says, now don't be silly
There's nothing inside this fruit
Now don't be a clown, just go put it down
And join the rest of the group

Then she stood up and held up the apple
And said, class this is my friend
I was a little concerned about bringing a worm
Whom I call, Mr. John Glenn

But teacher you said to never ever lie
Not even a little or a lot
Well if he gets loose, you'll see it's the truth
A creature John Glenn is not

poem by Kevin Seales
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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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The teacher and the taught

The little devil walks up
-head bowed,
a picture of repentance

-he seeks forgivance
eager to apologise
a reformed person.

The teacher looks on
her eyes filled with affection
ready to embrace the culprit.

The teacher and taught
share an experience
unique and vibrant.

Each time a student walks up to ask
each time the teacher feels honoured to answer
each time a student turns to her for guidance
the teacher obliges with no resistance.

Here in the classroom
many life portraits are made
the present, past and future
are intermittently linked.

The teacher and the taught
share a relation
unique and vibrant.

poem by Sreelekha Premjit
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Along The War Avenue Of honour

Along the war Avenue of Honour a plaque to a dead soldier nailed to every tree
Brave young men who died in battle their reward for their bravery
They died in the war said to end all wars in the killing fields of World war one
But many wars since and far too many bloody battles and peace in the World not yet won.

Wars started by silly ageing men who send the young for them to die
Ageing men who themselves will die of old age and their twilight years they will enjoy,
ageing males heroes of their people we honour cowards as heroes one might say
The young men will go to war for them and the young men with their young lives pay.

The war supposed to end all wars long over almost nine decades since have gone by
But many wars have been fought since then and war pilots dropp their big bombs from the night sky
But suppose that's what will always happen when we give all of our power away
To silly and ageing male war men who with hair dyes cover their gray.

Along the war avenue of honour long dead soldiers names on every tree
Young noble men who died in battle far from homeland and family
In what was to be the war to end all wars yet we don't have much wisdom to show
For the loss of so many fine young men well over eight decades ago.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Gross stupidity

It was at a time
where you had
to wear a uniform to school,
had to cut your hair
to a predetermined length

and got caned
if you were naughty,
failed a test,
or sometimes
to let the teacher
enforce his will.

If you complained at home
about getting a hiding at school,
you would probably
get another there too
if you deserved it,
but if you were right,
were punished unfairly
or without a real cause

it was seen in a different light
and a teacher
or whoever the punisher was
would have to face
your father in a fight
and could easily
be hit into hospital.

School regulations stipulated
that you couldn’t receive
more than six whippings on a day,
but at Estcourt high school
on my first day
at the new school
in standard nine (now grade eleven)
I received twelve.

We were lining up
to go to the hall
and a prefect told me
to cut my hair
which were just a bit
longer than how
they wanted it.

I said that I would
and while we were walking
to the entrance of the hall
I was told the same thing
over and over again.

On the eighth time
I told the English prefect
in Afrikaans
not to catch the pip
which was a Afrikaans adage
for do not catch a fit.

He told me to repeat
what I had said,
which I did
and thought
that I was cursing him
and took me
to the Headboy
who was English.

Where I had to repeat
myself again
and I did
as believed in telling
the truth.

The head boy took me
to the principal,
(Mister Robert Smith) ,
who thought
that I was saying
something like
go and play
with your member.

He called in the
vice-principal
(another Englishman) ,
a man with a red beard,
who was convinced
that I was cursing,
who shoved my head
under a table
and whipped me six times.

When I explained what it meant
they didn’t believe me
and called in a teacher
who taught Afrikaans
and the principal gave me
another six whippings
for being insubordinate
and wanted to expel me
if I didn’t have my hair cut
on by the next day.

I didn’t tell my stepfather
(who wasn’t a dad to me) ,
but even he
would have sorted
the headmaster
and vice-principal out
and it would have been
the Anglo-Boer war
all over again.

At the time I thought
that I was grossly stupid,
but thinking back
the headmaster and vice-principal
was probably more so.

poem by Gert Strydom
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