Night School in lower depths
The drug addict teacher comes with pornography
And sits on a desk half drunk.
'Hey! You idiot clean the black board.
The idiot stumbles with the matured students his equals
Quarters, Dimes, Nickels and pennies
And he cleans it seems..
Then the teacher asked him to write a sad but a correct sentence.
'No chalk.'
'Then bring it soon.'
He went to the next door pub and had a gulp of cheap liquor returned with a piece of chalk.
He writes; I skipped my golden school days and went for movies, ran behind the stars to get their signatures.
Now I learn from my mistakes
How to sign myself.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Related quotes
A Piece of Chalk (Children's Poem)
Chalk is happiest when the teachers come to him
Because he can chat about all sorts of subjects
Such as astronomy, geography, science and art
Chalk knows whatever you want to know
Chalk doesn’t like to do just one thing
When he is called on by the teacher
And he needs to follow the teacher’s orders
So Chalk hits the students chatting in class
To give them a big shock and stop their talking
Chalk hopes the seed of wisdom grows in students’ minds
And they can improve their studying a lot
If students want to learn about everything from Chalk
Even though every moment he becomes thinner and smaller
At the cost of his life
He still enjoys his work
Samson and Delilah
The English Literature teacher called him to the Black-board
Who's a regular absentee for every fortnight test.
'Samson write three sentences using the word 'go'.'
He took a piece of chalk and wrote.
1.I go
2.You go
3.We go
'That's incomplete and where do they go? ' Teacher questioned.
'That's my dilemma too.' He replied.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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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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Teacher
Teacher was
Learn the
Black board...
Students was
speaking
Cinima story...
School bell
Ringing for
Lunch break...
The black board
Teaching the teacher
How to the time pass? ? ? ! ! !
Student are very busy
For cinima story...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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Smart
My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more then one!
And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes-- I guess he didn't know
That three is more than two!
Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!
And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!
And I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head--
Too proud of me to speak!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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My first day in school
More than half a century ago,
the Monsoon showers had just brought relief from the sweltering summer,
just when I was dreaming of playing soccer whole day outdoors,
My Dad decided that I have to attend an elementary school.
I was dragged a mile by my older brother to my new school,
It would be my favorite Durga Temple converted into a school,
My dreams of a class with benches and chairs just vanished,
As we were sitting on the floor in open partitioned classrooms of the school.
I thought I would get a nice colorful uniform to wear to school,
but it looked like that the dress code was a futuristic dream,
At least every class had a black board bigger than my slate,
the teacher had a duster whereas I had to wipe the chalk with my hand.
The fear of some burly kids and nostalgia of home made me sad and homesick,
I could not stop crying and asking my teacher to let me go home.
I still remember the teacher with big black cane,
every time I cried to go home, I got a whack on my palm with his cane,
I could not stop crying, he would not stop whacking,
till I was sent in a distant corner for breaking the class rule.
Kneeling down in the corner, I dreamt of Mom and home,
I found comfort in the memories of joyous Durga Puja days,
I wished the Goddess would come alive,
and pierce the hands of the teacher with her big spear.
Finally the Tiffin time heralded the temporary recess,
the teacher came down and helped me open my Tiffin can,
He asked me to eat while he wrote something on my slate,
He hoped that it would keep me interested in his school.
After I finished my food, he handed my slate,
He had drawn a picture of a big smiling cat with whiskers and big tail,
He asked me to draw the cat on the other side of the slate,
I was so happy drawing the circles and lines whole afternoon,
I forgot I had a rough first day in school.
poem by Jay P Narain

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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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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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Why you so inquisitive of my whereabouts?
My night school's still dark
and the road I walk
Tar always black!
On the way,
I see rare night flowers,
They too have pearly white teeth
when they smile?
O the white Goddess
as passing clouds.
The white board in the gloomy class
Colored teacher writes on
with a piece of black chalk
A poem to recite;
'When forget-me-not
covers the old pauper's graveyard
Everybody thinks
It's the garden of Eden?
But in cruel Autumn
When the flowers withered
It's still the pauper's graveyard? '
[ From Father have I my stature,
my zest for earnest living;
From little Mother
my gay nature,
My love of story-telling.]-Goethe
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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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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The Supply Teacher
Here's the rule for what to do
If ever your teacher has the flu
Or for some other reason takes to her bed
And a different teacher comes instead
When the visiting teacher hangs up her hat
Writes the date on the board, does this or that
Always remember, you have to say this,
OUR teacher never does that, Miss!
When you want to change places or wander about
Or feel like getting the guinea pig out
Never forget, the message is this,
OUR teacher always lets us, Miss!
Then, when your teacher returns next day
And complains about the paint or clay
Remember these words, you just say this:
That OTHER teacher told us to, Miss!
poem by Allan Ahlberg

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Idiot Son Of An Asshole
He's not smart, a C student
And that's after buying his way into school
Beady eyes, and he's kinda dyslexic
Can he read? No one's really quite sure
He signs stuff and he executes people
Maybe that's why, he doesn't have any friends
Cocaine and a little drunk driving
Doesn't matter, when you're the Commander in Chief.
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Put on some make-up, turn on the 8-Track,
I'm putting a week back on the shelf,
Suddenly I'm the President, of the United States,
But then I woke up, and realized I'm still me.
He's too dumb, to eat pretzels, apparently smart enough to fix an election.
Moved boldly into the White House,
but most people voted against him.
He likes naps, He really likes naptime, A couple of naps and then a nap and then he's ready for bed,
He may be from Bush decent, but he's always gonna be the unpresident.
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
He's our president!
song performed by by NOFX

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ramona Remembered
you finally cracked when the teacher said,
life is unfair
you cannot accept that fact that sticks in your skin
like a tattoo since birth perhaps even till death
the unfairness of it all was the shutting of your light
for Ramona
like the sun you could have shone like a very bright day
in the middle of this darkness
now, the teacher comes to class with nothing but a piece of chalk
and convinced he writes there on that blackboard
indeed, life is unfair. He packs his things and leave for the mountain
and since then
no one hears about him again.
i am staying in this university and will continue writing all about these.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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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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The Idiot Son Of An Asshole
NoFX - Idiot Son Of An Asshole lyrics
He's not smart, a C student
And that's after buying his way into school
Beady eyes, and he's kinda dyslexic
Can he read? No one's really quite sure
He signs stuff and he executes people
Maybe that's why, he doesn't have any friends
Cocaine and a little drunk driving
Doesn't matter, when you're the Commander in Chief.
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
(***not in the video version on The War On Errorism****
Put on some make-up, turn on the 8-Track,
I'm putting a week back on the shelf,
Suddenly I'm the President, of the United States,
But they I woke up, and realized I'm still me. )
He's too dumb, to eat pretzels, apparently smart enough to fix an election.
Moved boldly into the White House,
though most people voted against him.
He likes naps, He's good at naptime, A couple of naps and then a nap and then he's ready for
bed,
He may be from Bush decent, He's always gonna, gonna be the un-precedent
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
Idiot son of an asshole
He's the idiot son of an asshole
He's our president!
song performed by by NOFX

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Physical Science
(after Antjie Krog)
Right at the front at the big old green board
the teacher waits with a strong wooden cane
while pretty girls peep at me
and here I am alone in my wooden bench,
where just here I can die in my chair
when the teacher starts to wander around
while the lesson drags on and on
and he is causing great fear among the pupils
before a crooked old finger points at me,
I see scientific formulae in chalk,
how that teacher throws down the board-eraser,
and gives me a hiding until I get all the answers right;
sometimes I wonder from where he comes,
and see the most devious fiend only in him.
[Reference: "Wiskunde" (Mathematics) by Antjie Krog.]
poem by Gert Strydom

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Knowing Idiots
Sunday.
I don't eat by myself
So I leave the television on
To fill in.
The food is cold in my fingers
And warm in my throat.
A forgotten rerun;
A sorry substitute for people.
Sundays are awful days
With such a lot to think about.
I think about
Where you are
Right now.
And how you are.
I hope you're sad.
Real sad.
I hope you feel like ripping your heart out.
But mostly I wonder
Why you are.
I don't like idiots.
You shouldn't be.
Saturday.
An idiot sits in front of me.
The idiots is happy with a lump of plasticine.
See how the plasticine, see how she changes
With me.
But child, you're not the one playing with plasticine.
It's the other way 'round.
Wednesday.
Saw the idiot in totality.
The idiot was all smiles.
I knew why
But didn't understand.
Idiots are beyond me.
What the idiots knows
Only the idiot knows.
The idiot is real smart.
So I want to give up on the idiot
While I'm still alive.
But before I do
I just want to see the idiot cry
And know what it's been like
And what it feels like
To be a fool.
poem by Shikha Gupta

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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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A Poor Snake Charmer's Charming Daughter!
Though she's beautiful
Nobody comes behind her?
One day in the class room
Literature teacher asked her to write an essay.
She wrote with a piece of chalk
On the black board;
'My father has three snakes
Hope, Prosper and Dancer their names.
And when the snakes dance in the market place
Papa is very happy and he brings us sweets & money home.
We have no venom and why the venomous World
Looks at us on a different angle?
Because of these snakes we get a sound sleep in the night
As the thieves never jump over our rickety fence?
Though we eat bread crumbs father never forgets to buy
Their daily three eggs!
I dream sometimes that I marry a rich & handsome snake-Prince
And my poor father rests on a couch in the palace corner? '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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A Shortsighted Mouth......
To the last generation
See that you emerge in a different situation
Make sure you come within a new creation
Great will be your fortified nation
From which no alien will find an incursion
Learn from the first generation
Their failure needs your correction
Their skills needs your collection
Had daughters gorgeous like yours,
Had sons gorgeous like yours,
Had walls enormous like yours…
Something you have they could not;
A black board to write on,
And a chalk to write with,
A teacher to pay attention to,
And a class to enforce team work,
A text book to make research,
And a screen to focus on,
A pen to practice with,
And a free time, to make friends
One thing they had you will never have;
A shortsighted mouth…
poem by Iyamuremye Wilfred

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