My old satchel
Still I carry your heavy fragrance in the old satchel over my slanted shoulder.
Life flies away from me day by day.
And our golden school stands still with new students.
In that narrow flowery path they walk to our nostalgic school
And we are too old to stand at the gate.
I imagine the music teacher's sensitive finger tips touch the reeds
And gives the melancholy song of life again.
Dedication to one of the prominent poetesses in the site Sandra Fowler
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
The Perfect school
THE PERFECT SCHOOL
A place where a student worships his teacher as a god,
The heads of the children before their teacher nod.
The place is the school where teachers give education,
It’s a school where there is afforestation.
A school that has all the beauties,
Is a perfect school whose students have all the qualities.
A school whose students will become president and magic vista,
A school whose students will become Rabindranath Tagore and Mother Teresa.
The Perfect School is a school whose trees will always be uploaded with fruits of joy, success and happiness,
A school whose students will never have a future of darkness.
That school will conquer the world,
In that school, music will be sung by birds.
CONTRIBUTED BY:
Gautam Kumar Sharma
poem by Gautam Sharma
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And I promise to reserve a seat for my lonesome Master
Still I am going to school and nobody sits in the class.
Peeled walls look so sad like an old fresco
And I think of my old friends.
A piece of chalk and the duster
Still remain in a corner on the rack below the blackboard.
Some letters were missing in the old essays but readable.
Before I step down I hear the echoes of music teacher's melancholy voice
And I never thought a chalk could speak like a parrot.
'Hey! Master I watched your regrets and I want to tell you that some of your friends already stuck in a home for the elders.
Your favorite teacher was retired and she collects her last pension it seems.
But it's glad to see still you look as a student's charisma with your old haversack.
Please come another day after the refurbishment of the school
Then you could see the new students and teachers
And I promise to reserve a seat for my lonesome Master.'
* To Sandra Fowler in gratitude.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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The Race
Our grand son Siluna has brought two cups home after winning in the school sports meet.
Congratulations Son!
At least you won.
Still I am running, your
Gray bearded Grand father
Never seen a cup.
Be strong my son as you have to jump over so many hurdles
in the race of hard life.
But I am sure that you have the sprint
And you take part all the events,
One day you bring the biggest cup home from the racecourse
The Mankind.
*Dedication to Alison, Sandra and Shani the three poetesses polished my scribblings.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My School Days
When I went to school
I always watch the way, that I covered
so, I always getting late to school.
My teacher complained my Mom
and my Mom got confused
because she knows I had never been late to my school.
One day she asked why teacher complaining so?
I kept my finger tip on my lips and said,
''Mom I always do count my foot steps towards the school
but I never got a proper counting
it was always found to be wrong
I had seen that when I walked towards school
why my foot steps are stepping wrong?
Did I take a wrong path?
so I turn behind to watch my way every time I step forward,
thinking that this is not the right path
Why are you thinking like that,
my Mom asked me,
''because Mom If i found my mistake early then
I can change my way and get a chance to correct it.''
This time my Mom kept her fingertip on her lips.
poem by Lata Tejeswar
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Tea Party with Principal Sir! !
What a nice tea party!
Cakes and coffee
Organized at Bangladesh International School & College
For the meritorious students of this school
Oh! Our Principal Sir Col Md Anisur Rahman Chowdhury!
Encourages the students very much
Give us rising hopes
Guides us to the right path as a good human being
What a talented person he is!
He has many dreams with this school!
Scholarship and Talent batch are being awarded by Him to the students!
Such a dedicated and hard working person he is!
We are trying our best to prove our talent!
Our Principal Sir is trying to make our country and school famous!
In such a way so that our country and school are known in the whole world!
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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The Seductress
all her life, by men she had been put down
she tried so much to smile, but could only frown.
she was beautiful, but men could not see
'that she had a rare quality'.
they took advantage, because she was soft spoken
and her heart was always broken.
she decided that a profession she must seek
and that she must reach the highest peak.
she decided a teacher she would become.
in her mind: ' better than her, there was none'.
she graduated with the highest marks
and in the best school she got her start.
and at the age of twenty two
she had done all that she could do.
then when the new term started,
she became open hearted.
she started to teach her students
one on one, and found herself under the gun.
in her class, a fourteen year old arrived
and she started to visualize
his eyes so blue, his hair so black
from her teaching, it did distract.
the more she taught, the more she fought
all the pent up feelings inside
to the point that she did'nt hide.
she started to get closer to him
knowing that she was commiting a sin.
he responded like any young teenage boy would do
and told her: i want to get closer to you.
she let him touch her pounding breast
and from there you could imagine the rest.
soon it spread throughout the school
that she had broken the golden rule.
then the school board found it out
and the public became aware
that with a minor she could not share
all the things that she learned in life.
she got pregnant and became his wife.
his parents she did know
but to jail she did go.
now that she's out, and has child number two
he does' nt know just what to do.
but he had gotten his education
and that may be his salvation
poem by Louis Rams
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School Teacher
I seen you walkin' every day on your way, school
I seen you talkin' to the children
I seen you talkin' to, ooh yeah
School teacher, yeah
In the boiler beneath the building
And I'm so lonely, I'm lonely, yeah
Go to your parties, goin' to your meeting
You look so busy, are you busy? Yeah
Na na na na na, school teacher
The day goes on so fast, fast, fast
School teacher, yeah
Where ya gonna go last?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah
I'd like to know ya, but I'm a nothin'
And you know somethin', I'd like to know ya, yeah
I'd like to hold ya, I'd like to love ya,
I'd like to know ya, I'd like to know ya, yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah na, na, na,
School teacher please don't walk on past, past
School teacher, yeah
Where ya gonna go last?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On my way to school (ballad attempt)
It was a pleasant day
walking down the road
too bad it's so early
carrying a heavy load
on my way to school
As I walk down the same street
taking in what I see
quiet birds are flying by
as if they want to flee
on my way to school
then I see a body
lying on the ground
looking cold and brittle
its face showing a frown
on my way to school
I get to the ravine
and smell the fresh air
and hearing the running water
thinking life is fair
on my way to school
I arrive at my goal
tired as can be
the day has only started
and I already want to sleep
because of my journey to school
poem by Venus Fire
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L'ecole
School is such a wreck
School is such a bore
Especially with all the stupid little whores
The time drags on
As the teacher talks some more
School is such a bore
School it makes me sick!
Lunch is too short, and class is too long
Everyone is lame
And everyone just wants to play their stupid games
We want to hang out
We want to kickback
We want to leave school
Lets have another walk-out
Maybe even break-out!
School is such a bore
School is such a wreck
I wonder when we get to leave?
As soon as the bell rings?
My teacher looks like an ugly duck
I hope he'll finally shut up!
Hurray! Hurray!
The bell finally rung!
poem by Starrbox Munoz
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Back To School.
Back to school, my mind in good mood. My head enroute for good friuts. Back to school, yes I'm back for good. Don't be a fool dear, it's not just a virtual school of paper-books, it's a school of the mind, a school of thinking. Oh yes! My own school of thought. Every day is schooling, where you are is your lecture room, Life its' self is the teacher. School closes when we close our eyes, either in sleep or in SLEEP. Which ever way it closes, it yet continues on the other side. For there, we shall learn all that we failed while still LIFE's pupils.
poem by Darlington Chukwunyere
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Sandra Fowler is no more!
Dear Nimal,
Sandra passed away in the early hours of this morning. She flew away to be with Jesus, her King.
God Bless,
Nancy
I have no words
when the West Virginian Nightingale
was quiet forever?
I write to Comrade Jesus
please loook after her well
and this deepest sympathy to my poor poet God
to inform me when she comes to us
as a poetess again!
Your painted sky is gloomy today
And I know why?
I have a teardropp in my heart!
And I hear your song till I close my eyes forever
'Before the music ends? '*
*fondly to my life-school teacher who taught me when I argued sometimes about certain things, she muttered that life is a song and you have to sing before the music ends?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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In Silence
You walk back to school one day in silence
And you think that no one cares
But you're all alone in silence
No one notices you're there
You think you know everything I'm talking about
But you don't know anything about me
You sit own in a seat you don't know anyone
They all stare at you you just wanna
Scream and shout
You walk back to school one day in silence
And you think that no one cares
But you're all alone in silence
No one notices you're there
You just finished reading and you're on to math
If you find someone they can show you the path
You think you know what your teacher says
But it all comes out a blur
But if you believe in yourself
It can change your world
You walk back to school one day in silence
And you think that no one cares
But you're all alone in silence
No one notices you're there
You walk back to school one day in silence
And you think that no one cares
But you're all alone in silence
No one notices you're there
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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Quality education amidst Nobility Grateful...
Well knitted tie and silvery college uniform
Hair, socks, shoes but not perfumes
Oozing lowly smile depict innocence fragrance
Yes, sir madam we Peessa school children...
Fathers Mothers brothers and teachers of their own
Village school children with their agro-production
Accumulated love for teacher mother feeder plantation
Shed no tear but exhibited nobility of power education...
Rich or poor nor we bother
Since we too students of corner Uva
Learnt we much more to adopt that caliber
Never we ignore you teacher it's such a plaintive for your mother...
So sorrowful yes we pray sure she may attain Nibbana…..
Plot: The students of a remote rural school Peessa Lunugala Passara Education Zone children's honor of gratitude for their teachr's mother's funeral late Mrs.E.V.Yougawarnalatha, Galgodahenakumbura Pelgahatenna Passara Srilanka on 19th September 2012.
poem by Sisirachandra Vaduge
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The Milkman and a Widow's cry
The old Mill by the Riverside
And a middle aged widow stands
At the rickety gate.
The handsome lad who brings milk
Early in the morning
And the Sun pretends
As an Onlooker.
She took the boy inside
And locked the door.
Asked the boy to sit on the sofa
She's seated close to him and relaxed.
The boy seemed to be totally perplexed!
She took out a small book from her nightgown pocket
And gave it to the boy to read aloud.
He reads; 'When the daybreak
Perhaps a boy comes with milk
He looks like our neighbor Midwife's son
Let him read this in my absence.
Believe me, I am reborn your old soldier
And you don't feel lonely
Don't cry and I'll bring you milk everyday..................!
The boy watched the tears fell from her tiny eyes
And he stopped reading.
He hurries sullenly leaving the premises by saying;
'Please do not worry Madam!
I'll stay a night or two on a full moon day
And read this leisurely
That I promise you earnestly.'
Then she smiled and it seemed incredibly complicated.
*To my Life-school Art Teacher, the poetess Sandra Fowler in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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School's out
Well we got no choice
All the girls and boys
Makin all that noise
'Cause they found new toys
Well we can't salute ya
Can't find a flag
If that don't suit ya
That's a drag
School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blown to pieces
No more pencils
No more books
No more teacher's dirty looks
Well we got no class
And we got no principles
And we got no innocence
We can't even think of a word that rhymes
School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blown to pieces
No more pencils
No more books
No more teacher's dirty looks
Out for summer
Out till fall
We might not go back at all
School's out forever
School's out for summer
School's out with fever
School's out completely.
poem by Killed Killa
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We Used To Carry Books To School
We used to carry books to school
But now they carry guns
Are bullets now the tool
For schoolwork to be done?
We used to carry books to school
Went there for education
But now some kids may think it cool
To shoot down confrontation.
We used to carry books to school
Had sports, the fun we can't forget
But now in school, so many fools
Just know how to spell Death.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The School Of Nature
To be a poet
it is essential to be a student
of school of nature
to complete this study
one life is not sufficient
but has to take many births
its language and grammars are too tough
no university can meet it up
in the school of nature
the languages of stars, planets & all creatures
are taught for which you have to choose a teacher
God is the super teacher to teach you
in the school of nature.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Higher Education...
The place were much was learned; The School Of Life.
A far different place than papers, books, and homework.
The School of Life, is a never ending, when it comes to lessons.
In The School Of Life, I have learned, that not
all, is ever learned, or comprehended.
The School Of Life, often teaches one, some bitter and
disappointing lessons.
This school, reveals much in the way of surprises. Many
that of a happy nature and some, devastating.
Somehow, The School Of Life, teaches one, to keep going.
To try...try and try again. We learn that much is gained
through tenacity. We learn it matters not how many times
one is knocked down, for it is how many times we get
up, that is the test in this school.
We learn of mans inhumanity to man. We learn that in
helping our fellow human beings, there is much reward.
We learn, that The School Of Life, has no graduating day.
We learn, that we remain, an ongoing student of education.
The School Of Life, does have its rewards; a diploma of
knowledge, understanding and wisdom.
The School Of Life, better than any college in the world.
The School of Life, where knowledge is ones ticket to
anyplace in the world.
Learn ye well, for in The School Of Life, one does not
have the opportunity to repeat a grade.