Lucky Chalk
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Let go and make room
For the teachers
There's wisdom on the board
The clapping of erasers
Sprinkles, tattered, and worn chalk
Like advice and re-arrangement
Dusting all the desks
For the new class
Untill they graduate
Not everyone will
Those left behiend
Can clean the board
And gather the chalk gems
Lucky janitors
poem by Josephine Lauderdale
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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
Chalk Dust
Chalk dust
Under fingernails
Scribble-covered chalkboards
white on green
Smoky air
From chalk filled erasers
Pounded in the night
Chalk dust on the breeze
Floating out of sight
(April 2004)
poem by Elizabeth Peterson
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Dangers Of A Prison
Saving a sentence requires bad light,
Enough of the prison is alight;
May fortune save us once tonight,
Like the fires of heaven and hell.
Please us with something, with headroom,
And the whole class spans a generation
Of teaching, a whole school of history.
The board is mounted by the teachers,
And the board is a bored person,
Waiting for the dangerous act of treason.
Teach the right queue the right tricks,
Pulling a punch will not do any good.
May the light at the end of this be glad,
Loathing an apple, destroying a bridge.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Doppelganger
Miss Damson
was a doppelganger
for Bette Davis
right down
to the look
and eyes
and swagger
into the classroom
to teach
and it was said
that sometimes
she‘d go into
the cupboard
and have a drag
on a smoke
and if any kid
spoke out of turn
she’d give a stare
to make his or her soul
seemingly burn
but you saw
the way she could bring
silence to a room
when she entered
or bring a shudder
of fear
into the hearts
of the classroom braggers
and when she drew chalk
across the blackboard
it’d set teeth on edge
or threw chalk
or the blackboard wiper
at any kid stupid
or brave enough
to open their mouths
and the way she wrote
upon the board
her back to the class
that firm ass
and with that neat script
her fingers tight
around the chalk
as if around
the throat of any kid
who dared to talk
and you
she’d say
you at the back
you with the dumb look
don’t stare
out of the window
open the darn book
or hey you
girl with the bangs
don’t sit there
with your mouth open
or you’ll catch flies
and there’d be
an underground snigger
from others
or just dumb looks
anywhere
but at Miss Damson
even stuck between
pages of boring books.
poem by Terry Collett
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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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Once Again In An Academic Wasteland!
A soiled handkerchief
Thrown ten days ago
Pieces of chalk
Strewn all over
Ten days ago
Sand that walked
Into the class
Ten days ago
Crumpled paper-balls
Of insignificant messages
Hurled and thrown
At one another
Ten days ago
Casual wishes scribbled
Carelessly on the board
Ten days ago
Welcome me to a class
Of confused faces
After ten days of break!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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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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Crumbling Chalk
Beneath the cliffs of crumbling chalk was once a path
where you could walk. The walk would take you down to
the sand where fishing boats would come to land.
Now this crumbling chalk falls into the sea, where once
crabs and lobsters were caught for tea.
No scavenging left in this lonely bay even the gulls
have flown away; they have left the waves and the spray
are they to return another day.
Nets and pots have been swallowed up by the waves and
now their left to sleep in watery graves. A fishing village that was
once a boom has now become an empty tomb.
An oil slick just driffted into the shore and took away the beauty
that it had known before. Crumbling chalk that drops like tears
on the sand that's black made from the oil smears.
There is nothing left to self contain, oh will they no come
back again.
poem by Sylvia Spencer
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Life’s Lessons
From our very birth we enroll in life’s school,
Adhere to wisdom and don’t be counted a fool,
After we first learn to dine, converse and walk,
We find instruction on teachers board in chalk,
Then much advanced education we seek to find,
Merely with worldly jumble we pack our mind,
Truthful wisdom to us our ancestors did impart,
From which we chose straight away to depart,
Moral principles from our youth we were taught,
But after worldly gratification it was we sought,
Youthful life was lived fast; rolling and rocking,
Then the school of hard knocks came a knocking,
And for true knowledge my empty soul yearned,
But only selfishness in everything I had learned,
So blinded by worldly mind-set I could not see,
Others mattered and that it was not all about me,
The golden rule I’ve found to be absolutely true,
Do unto others as you would have them do to you,
Ancient wisdom makes for much brighter days,
Abundant truth can only be found in GOD’s ways!
poem by Joseph Blitch
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Lecturer
He wrote on the board
“The husband said the wife
Is having an extra-marital affair”.
He asks the class, “Who is having the EMA? ”
Shout comes up loud, “the wife”.
He takes a piece of chalk, and puts two commas
One after husband, and one after wife.
It now reads, “The husband, said the wife, is
Having an extra-marital affair”.
He asks the class, “Who is having the EMA? ”
Confused murmur of husband, wife flutters.
“Not a word has changed, but the meaning has reversed
With just two commas.” Eats shoots and leaves, eh?
May I start the lecture on grammar, he said.
The class was all ears.
D T Joseph
19.02.08
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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School is Fun!
School is fun, it is a place were you listen, learn & play!
School is a place for u to stay! study and make friends its always the same!
School are for teachers to teach and janitors to clean! students must keep their class room clean!
School are for students to learn new things, especially when it comes to tests, exams and other different things!
School are for children who love's to learn and study, its a place for you to love eachother one another so have fun in school and play!
poem by Iyakami Haroki
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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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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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Saving Grace
If you find it in your heart, can I be forgiven?
Guess I owe you some kind of apology.
Ive escaped death so many times, I know Im only living
By the saving grace thats over me.
By this time id-a thought I would be sleeping
In a pine box for all eternity.
My faith keeps me alive, but I still be weeping
For the saving grace thats over me.
Well, the death of life, then come the resurrection,
Wherever I am welcome is where Ill be.
I put all my confidence in him, my sole protection
Is the saving grace thats over me.
Well, the devils shining light, it can be most blinding,
But to search for love, that aint no more than vanity.
As I look around this world all that Im finding
Is the saving grace thats over me.
The wicked know no peace and you just cant fake it,
Theres only one road and it leads to calvary.
It gets discouraging at times, but I know Ill make it
By the saving grace thats over me.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Art Class
I look around this joyful room,
Amongst the peaceful teens
This is perhaps the only class
Where students are not machines
In the art class they’ll smile
In the art class they’ll yell
In the art class they‘ll be kind
And not raise a hell
Many teachers wonder why this is so
Many teachers wonder where the secret lies
The secret to peaceful teens, which enjoy their work
The secret to the students without depressed cries
The students wonder how they could not get it
How they could not understand
How the teachers don’t realise
That in the art room there are no demands
In the maths class there are complications
In the English room there is language
But in the art room there is only creativity
It is that which students which to salvage
The art teacher is simple and kind
The art teacher doesn’t lecture or scream
The art teacher doesn’t force them to be equal
And make a most horrendous scene
No, in the art class they are not equal
But the differences they admire
They have a writer, a painter and a sculptor
And they have freedom to aspire
Freedom is what the students wish
The students wish to be treated like people
In the art class they are treated as such
In other classes they are believed incapable
The students will always be at peace in the art room
There will be no fights, no pain, and no scorn
The other teachers will wonder what the secret is
But their attempts to find out will always be forlorn
poem by Lenore Lee
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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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Every time in this century we've lowered the tax rates across the board, on employment, on saving, investment and risk-taking in this economy, revenues went up, not down.
We were saving, saving, saving then going to France and blowing the money eating. She was a nurse and had never experienced fine dining but she loved it, too. Our mates thought it absurd.
quote by Heston Blumenthal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A Rainbow In An Oilslick
What are the people saving for?
Stashing paper gold away within cold grey chambers locked
And kept secret from the world. Saving for what?
Saving to be saved? To fly across the globe in some hope of revelation
When the willow man of the garden can speak the wisdom of the ages.
We turn the page as the story unfolds
Forever young and never old
Here we are the fresh flesh of youth's bright and spirited curse.
The years are spinning beyond control.
Under the illusion
That greener fields await
Beyond sinking grey horizons
Will it come as a surprise
To find they have no eyes?
They are hunted alike vermin
Throughout this land of shadows
Casting arcane mirror images
Upon the sleeping reflection
Of a rainbow in an oil slick.
Gather your love within your shell.
poem by David Lacey
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