A different type of homework
Being a science student I attended cookery class for only one term
(3 months) in Class 8th...This poem is a small contribution for the
Cookery Class when we had to make Cookies at home and take
them to school for checking/inspection :) I have tried to make it a
funny poem :)
I was given homework to do,
a good presentation I made.
Next day I showed it too,
and all my friends admired.
My teacher came to inspect it,
and she sniffed it like a puppy.
Then she took a small bite,
chewed it and looked happy.
She took another bigger piece,
munching away and smiling.
I watched not feeling nice,
seeing my homework disappearing.
Soon she had finished it all,
I stood with my mouth agape.
My homework seems vitamins full,
that a teacher ate it with a burp?
Normal marking of assignment is to make you pass,
What of tasting and then eating your homework?
Your marking is done like this in class!
in cookery class the teacher eats your work. :)
renukakkar 28.10.2011
Copyright@2011
poem by Renu Kakkar
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Related quotes
No homework
No homework, no homework, no homework
it would be lovely, it would be great,
it would be as good as chocolate cake.
No homework, no homework, no homework,
oh the things I would do, it would be fun,
it would be a cupcake bun.
No homework, no homework, no homework,
an amazing day, but next day at school,
a pop quiz and now the teacher says hurray.
poem by Ben Mannion
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My class
My class is a funny class
When the teacher is not in
Our class is a circus
That will conquer the school
We have acrobats
We have clowns
and we even have elephants
My class is a noisy class
When the teacher is not in
Our class is a market
That will conquer the school
We have hawkers
We have fruiterers
and we even have butchers
No matter what
A circus or a market
We enjoy our class
When the teacher is not in
poem by Sarah Ally
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My Teacher Ate My Homework
my teacher ate my homework,
which i thought was rather odd.
he sniffed at it and smiled,
and gave a thoughtful chew.
I think he must have liked it,
for he really went to town.
He licked off all his fingers,
gave a burp and said, 'You pass.'
I guess that's how they grade you
when you're in a cooking class.
poem by Shaikha Alansari
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My Luck Abandoned Me
Ever since I set foot in school for my new academic year
It looks like luck has abandoned me
My bus came late to pick me up for school
So guess who is punished, me!
In the first few days we were given so much homework,
So many projects to make,
So many tests to prepare for
I thought my head would break
The teachers are very strict
And on craft items, my pocket-money I will have to spend
And nowadays the level of homework given has increased so much
That doing your homework is the latest trend
What’s more, to make matters even worse
My best friends have been shuffled now
I want to see them, but where’s the time
To them how can I talk, how?
And these days I am always
Forgetting to do my homework
Now my memory’s failing me
And all I can do is sulk
I can describe class V
In nothing but a deep sigh
Wait I just remembered I forgot,
To do my homework. Got to go. Bye!
poem by Risha Ahmed
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Homework Time
Wake up, wake up! It's homework time,
Remember you promised to start by nine,
I heard my mother uttering these lines,
I think beginning the task in time,
Keeps me alert, active and fine,
Regular homework makes me shine
Among my class-mates and
The pupil of class five's line,
Credit goes to my homework time.
poem by Arfa Karim
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First Year University Expereinces
I learned why it is not wise to skip class often
I learned that skipping homework in university is not the same as skipping homework in high school
I learned what it feels like to be awake for over 2 days
I learned how to smoke pot from a bong
I learned how to compose an essay the day before it's due
I learned that the Freshman 15 is no joke
I learned how to do laundry
I learned to pretend to be happy
I learned to multitask
I learned to be more sociable
I learned why my parents and teachers warned me about the difficulty of university
I learned that failing is expensive
I learned small things, like freshly washed bed sheets, make me happy
I learned to lie
I learned how expensive alcohol is
I learned what it feels like to be a failure
I type this rant while skipping my business ethics class as I further delay the composition of my psychology term paper
poem by Michelle Cow
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My Class
my class are sometimes noisy
dont mean to be rude
dont mean to shout out
or have the odd chew
we dont mean to swing on our chairs
we wouldnt dare try answer back
my class is full of intelligent pupils ready to work
we dont mean to cause a fuss
or sharpen our pencils at the last minute
we really dont mean to drive our teacher round the bend
my class are acually quite funny
but darnt laugh we our teacher is talking at the front of our class
we like to joke around but we no wen to stop
somehow at the end of most days my teacher will go away with a sore head my question is... who gave her it?
poem by Lauren Seath
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Vicious Homework
It’s obvious that English
Is not my favorite class
And Mrs. Knight, my teacher
Doesn’t think that I will pass
She’s heard all my excuses
About where my homework went
She doesn’t believe a thing I say
Her patience has been spent
So last night I did my homework…
I didn’t want to fail
I read all the chapters
But it didn’t go too well
The paper I wrote the summaries on
Fell in this jar full of muck
The paper grew some teeth and came alive
I didn’t know what I should do…
They were drooling on the floor
I freaked and threw them outside
Then quickly slammed the door
This morning I have a new excuse
To tell to Mrs. Knight
But I doubt that she’ll believe me….
My homework is scared to come out in the light
poem by Mercedes Zoller
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From a Dropout's Point of View
I remember when I cared
When getting to class on time was a nessecity
When homework was completed before I was home
When there was nothing lower than a 85 on my report card
But that's nothing but a memory
I've lost the desire to succeed
To push myself to the limit and beyond
To even come to class
To care about my life
I've lost myself
I've lost myself to the parties, the money, the 'lifestyle'
I just wish I could forget so it wouldn't be so painful to remember
I wish I found the old me
The me that cared about my life and everyone around him
The me that had every teacher's and student's respect
The me that was still in high school
poem by J.A. Miller
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An angel was passing through the Sky
Hey! Anyone can answer me what's life.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is dream.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is fear.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is mind.
All the hands in the class go down.
Time was passing, without a single sound.
Classroom was fulfilled by husky wind.
'Last bench corner '
'Last bench corner ', hey! you tell me.
The boy was looking far far away behind the window grills.
Stood up.
Placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes.
An angel was passing through the Sky.
poem by Sougata Majumder
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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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Class has a sense of humor. It knows that a good laugh is the best lubricant for oiling the machinery of human relations. Class never makes excuses. It takes its lumps and learns from past mistakes. Class bespeaks an aristocracy unrelated to ancestors or money. Some extremely wealthy people have no class at all, while others who are struggling to make ends meet are loaded with it. Class is real. You can't fake it. Class never tries to build itself up by tearing others down. Class is already up and need not attempt to look better by making others look worse. Everyone is comfortable with the person who has class because he is comfortable with himself. If you have class, you've got it made. If you don't have class, no matter what else you have, it won't make up for it.
quote by Ann Landers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home work
sometimesa my home work is small
sometimes my home work is long
but when ever i do my home work
it is always wrong
sometimes i do my home work at a low pace
sometimes i do my homework at a lfast lane
but how ever i do my homework
my homework is still a pain
sometimes my homework is eazy
sometimes homework is hard
but whenever i can't do my homework
i feel like a retard
by
mehwish shakeel
poem by Mehwish Shakeel
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What Is My Day
what is my day are is what people around the school make me happy to think do today and think what is awesome then and what do is work out outside walk the dog and also and then what i do is going home and when family dinner then was so then it was a other school day in class my homework then was working
poem by Mary Hartley
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First Homework
Tis the day I got my first batch of homework
From where you ask?
From my first grade class of course
I wonder how I should start
From the days my siblings warned me of this
I have always forever dreaded this
And now the time has finally come upon me
to open the books of doom
So as I sit there waiting patiently
Hoping a way to succeed
I decided to finally start this
For else the end is near
As I finished the homework I see
i realized it's not so bad
maybe I'll enjoy this once in a while
The dreaded homework no one seeks
poem by Venus Fire
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Wires
Wires
I was fourteen
when our literature teacher said:
‘For today’s homework
you have to write a poem about your arms’.
The next day I stood up before the class and recited:
‘My arms are like very, very long wires
with which I can embrace the whole world.'
The teacher said: ‘Very good, great metaphor’.
He died peacefully
just a few years before the Wireless Era.
Lucky for him, he escaped the struggle
of all these wireless things,
even wireless loves.
Meanwhile, I mourn for the death of my first great metaphor.
poem by Ndrek Gjini
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to my teacher Ms. emily
To my teacher to Ms. Emily
I always look forward to your class when I came to school. I enjoy each lesson you teach.
As my role model you inspire me to dream, to work very hard in class and to reach. Your an awesome teacher, your smart and intelligent.
With your kindness you always get my attention. But To be honest, sometime I bother you.
You make me understand each lesson you teach. I'm thankful for all that you've done to me.
I admire you each day and I just want to say As a teacher you are the best forever.
poem by Djabir Yaya
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A School Is So Not Cool
School Is Not So Cool
School, School, School,
A school is not cool
We're here 5 days a week
8 hours a day.
School, School, School,
A school is not cool.
People laugh when we fall
we just have to make a call.
School, School, School
A school is not cool.
We have to work hard to get good grades
I'm not going to do it no more
I do it every day.
We can’t go on the grass
We can’t bother another class
We can’t save spots at lunch
We have to go as a bunch.
We have 3 minutes in the hall
I'm always late what a ball.
We have to pay attention
if not we get detention.
School, School, School,
A school is not cool.
They have too many rules
they play us as fools
if we get A's
the parents jump Hip Hip Hooray.
If we get F's
we tell them we need to take a rest.
We always have homework
we never have class work
they have to many rules
they need to take it cool.
School, School, School,
A school is so not cool!
poem by Fahed Sharaf
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one day at school, Korea (1801)
I don’t like school, Sir
most venerable teacher;
and though you are kind, Sir
and all my classmates too
and you all help me study and learn
like you make me know
the first five characters in the alphabet
but the moment I am out of school
all I can remember
are the rice-cakes and sweets and the dumplings my mother makes
and true, Sir
most venerable teacher
you teach me the numbers
and I can count from 1 to 5
when I am in class
but when I’m out
I love the toys my father brings
and I play with the wooden toy soldiers
and I love the ducks and the clay horses;
and I really can’t remember the first five letters
or the first five characters
when I lie in bed
and when I am back in class Sir
dragged in by Old Madam Toothless Bong
who always knows where I am wherever I try to run
I can’t remember anything anyone taught me, Sir
most venerable teacher...
I know Sir
all of you have spoken to me
and my dad and my mom
and Old Madam Toothless Bong
and all my friends in class
I must study so I can go to the city and find work
but alI I want to do, Sir
most venerable teacher
is to play and eat and sleep when it is time
and one day, Sir
most venerable teacher
(I know you worry about me)
when I’m grown and big
I’ll make toys and I’ll sell them
and make money for me and my family;
and I’ll make all those sweets and dumplings
and feed my family...
so please, Sir
most venerable teacher
because I don’t like school
and I can’t remember anything
do not worry about me and let me go to the fields now
and I shall grow to be tall as the trees
and as rich as the rice fields...
________________ _________________________
poem based on painting: “Seodang”
(private elementary school in town)
by Kim Hong-do, Danwon (1745-1806)
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Gone High Tech
You may noticed, teacher,
I am not in school today,
But the tape deck on my desk,
will record each word you say,
Switch on my laptops webcam,
when you have something to show,
And if you pass out homework,
I've a pager and cell phone,
So i won't be hard to reach,
Since i don't need to be in class,
I'll do my lessons at the beach.
poem by Natalie Bebbington
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