En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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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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Red Apple, Red Apple

Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer

Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole

Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?

Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste

Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple

poem by John McAdam
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Arabic Nights

you are the arabesque
into my arabic nights.

you dance and i open my eyes
trying to see where does love reside

in your belly? no, it is not there.
it could be inside you.

but you are closed as a door
of the palace where aladin lives

i am looking for love.
dance, dance for me.

it is dark here and you are the light.
the moon.

i am a snake. i need the apple.
let me bite you.

take me inside you.
you are my paradise.

you are my tree.
i have the apple inside my throat.

do not die yet.
i am still alive.

please. please.

please me i am not dead yet.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Apple

red shiny apple
in your
throat, do you still breathe inside your heart?

red shiny apple
between my legs these friends of my thighs

i am a tree and you are that woman
craving for the red shiny apple
in my garden

i do not claim innocence for my wanton actions
before the snake and
my God

i will say i will always love you
bend over me woman and i will lay open my mouth
fill it with your tongue

pour in the drops of apple juice
to my cracking lips

water my garden and fill it with flowers from your hair

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Attachment and Betrayal

What do you feel when an apple falls?
I think Newton's theory of gravity
And I still remember the curly haired physics teacher,
One day she brought an apple to the class room and said;
'Hey! My pupils this is from the garden of Eden.'
When I fell not once but several occasions in my jostling life
I had a dilemma of human beings why they collapse constantly?
And latterly I noticed the teacher goes out once in a month to collect her miserable pension.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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Regarding The Apple's History, A Theological Trifle - After Emily Dickinson

'It's good for the breath! '
With this she tempted Adam to death.

Properties of the apple are renowned since
their eating made it a greatly frowned upon thing.
Still, it is not without its lovers.
But for an apple's charm we would live boring lives,
never a fling or two to alarm the pear,
and we all know an apple will never harm
a teacher's pet, its fables to lure
the imagination, that Golden One's
strength to subvert us to the core.

Let's eat the jelly of sin and tell it!
William Tell's a good shot!
Let's split the Apple in the pot
and stew it for Eve's sly.
Even so our breath is sweet.
Tis the tart one of death
from which we'll all die.

Tis also true, though paradise is lost,
something is to be gained with apple sauce.

poem by Warren Falcon
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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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Consumed (Stream III)

The consumer consumed
Like a snake eating its tail.
The worm in the bud,
The rotten apple,
Rotten to the core,
No core.
A corpse eaten inside out.
Outside the circle,
Circling in for the kill,
Killing time
Time to kill.
We slowly die
Outside in,
In need,
We are addicted.
Waiting for our next fix,
Try to fix it
Mr Fix It.
We're in a fix.
With fixed gaze
We watch the ads.
The ads add,
Add to our wants.
Feed our addictions
With sugar and technology.
A hunger we cannot satisfy
Dissatisfied we die inside.
We are subsumed,
The consumer consumed.

P H Brookes Copyright 2012

poem by Paul Brookes
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Sonnet: A Teacher

I loved to be a Medical-Teacher;
My Teacher Father was my role model;
His scholarliness was his great feature;
His greatness words can never truly tell.

A Teacher tells whatever, he has known;
And moulds the conduct, character of wards;
He guides his pupils like his very own;
And expects never earthly just rewards.

A Teacher stays a Teacher forever;
None can replace his place uniquely held;
His students must be brighter and clever,
And when that happens, he is much reveled.

The students imbibe Teacher's noble thought;
To hand the same to progeny, they ought.

poem by John Celes
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for My Teacher

I knew I was alive, ‘cause I felt myself breathing
I knew I could walk, ‘cause I saw my legs moving
I knew I had feelings, ‘cause I could pity myself so much
For everything I was doing, I had done,
I would do that wouldn’t matter as such.

And then you came, my teacher
Introduced myself to me
Showed me, like every creature,
How different I could be.

And made me feel special
No cursed any more,
Believe in the power of my dreams
The limitless potential in my core.

Life, black and plain white
That used to be
Now with your eyes
I could see the red, the blue and the green.

And you taught not just “ABC”
But also the perspective with which the world to see
And you taught not just “123”
But also the ways to set ourselves free.

I don’t just breathe now teacher, I live.
I don’t just walk now teacher,
I run for my wants.
I don’t pity myself anymore teacher,
I’m proud of myself.
I don’t just respect you teacher,
I owe myself to you…….

poem by Jaya Mishra
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Free Child

Life inside a box
window with a view
but my teacher blocks
nothing new

I day dream
in class
inside I scream
let me pass

I belong outside
with the wild
laws I need not abide
thoughts of a free child

poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Where have all the trees gone Dad?

Dad! When I was in school the teacher showed me a picture of a tree
I've never seen one of those before, tall and handsome and brown and green you see
Do you remember seeing a tree when you were young? My teacher says there were many
She says that they grew all over the world but now days there aren't any

What did they look like? Did they blow in the wind?
Did the leaves fall in the autumn or was it in spring?
How high did they grow? Did they sway to and fro?
Did they look pretty covered in winters first fall of snow?

Dad, teacher says they'll grow no more, she says the climate has changed forever
She says we're all poorer now and explained to us how we'll have to suffer together
I heard that there was a tree that grew as tall as a skyscraper
But they cut it down and mulched it up to make us all new paper

It would be nice to see trees growing proud and strong
Reaching up to the sky with their branches so long
But that's just a dream I know I'll never see
It's just a vision in a picture never to be reality for me

My teacher said there used to be birds that lived amongst the bows
They flew around from branch to branch but we don't have those either now
What are nuts and berries and fruit the trees all used to bear?
My teacher says they were things we could eat at the end of every year

Well do you remember seeing a tree when you were young then Dad?
The like of which I have just explained and a pleasure I've never had
What do you mean they died out long ago, long before you were born
Now I'll never know why we cut them all down and my heart will always be torn.

poem by Glenn Ford
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For My History Teacher

I’m sitting in class,
My eyes about to close,
I hope teacher don’t see,
I hope she don’t see me.

Bored out of my mind,
Falling so behind,
Cannot concentrate,
I came to class too late.

Although I was on time,
My body was I mean,
My mind is still outside,
From class trying to hide.

What does all this mean?
I haven’t used it yet,
How can I retain it,
When already I forget?

And then she walks over,
That teacher of mine,
A smile in her eyes,
A gentle one at that,
She puts her hand on me,
And sets me kind of free.

Now here I am in class,
Learning about the past,
About history,
And what it did for me.

How we can learn,
From mistakes of old,
Of people so different,
Some so very bold.

Some stood against oppression,
Some stood against the wrong,
Some said it with dignity,
Some said it with a song.

I owe it to them,
And teacher here to hear,
What they did for us,
And no longer fear.

That knowledge is so dull,
No longer hurts my brain,
No longer hurts my skull,
It will surely keep me sane.

The past is the future,
Unless I stay awake,
So I can benefit,
There’s much more at stake.

Than I thought before,
Before I got to class,
Thank you History teacher,
For bringing to life the past.

I never got bored in History class, because I had a wonderful History Teacher. This is for her.

poem by Aisha Sherazi
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Teacher It Is Hard

Teacher it is hard-being one teacher,
and teacher so write none are wrong.
Too pull it out of one and push it into another,
when mothers and fathers blame none but you.
The trial of and-and in love with them all and
girls with men and boys trust you-not too fall.
Weapons books words are plain weapons upon
which to lean and kill not the rose inside her dream.
And more of him as he wanders lost withheld inside.

poem by Is It Poetry
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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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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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The Apple-Tree

OLD John had an apple-tree, healthy and green,
Which bore the best codlins that ever were seen,
So juicy, so mellow, and red;
And when they were ripe, he disposed of his store,
To children or any who pass'd by his door,
To buy him a morsel of bread.

Little Dick, his next neighbour, one often might see,
With longing eye viewing this fine apple-tree,
And wishing a codlin might fall:
One day as he stood in the heat of the sun,
He began thinking whether he might not take one,
And then he look'd over the wall.

And as he again cast his eye on the tree,
He said to himself, 'Oh, how nice they would be,
So cool and refreshing to-day!
The tree is so full, and one only I'll take,
And John cannot see if I give it a shake,
And nobody is in the way.

But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough,
Remember, though John cannot see you just now,
And no one to chide you is nigh,
There is One, who by night, just as well as by day,
Can see all you do, and can hear all you say,
From his glorious throne in the sky.

O then little boy, come away from the tree,
Lest tempted to this wicked act you should be:
'Twere better to starve than to steal;
For the great GOD, who even through darkness can look,
Writes down every crime we commit, in His book;
Nor forgets what we try to conceal.

poem by Ann Taylor
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The Apple-Tree

Old John had an apple-tree, healthy and green,
Which bore the best codlins that ever were seen,
So juicy, so mellow, and red;
And when they were ripe, he disposed of his store,
To children or any who pass'd by his door,
To buy him a morsel of bread.

Little Dick, his next neighbour, one often might see,
With longing eye viewing this fine apple-tree,
And wishing a codlin might fall:
One day as he stood in the heat of the sun,
He began thinking whether he might not take one,
And then he look'd over the wall.

And as he again cast his eye on the tree,
He said to himself, "Oh, how nice they would be,
So cool and refreshing to-day!
The tree is so full, and one only I'll take,
And John cannot see if I give it a shake,
And nobody is in the way.

But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough,
Remember, though John cannot see you just now,
And no one to chide you is nigh,
There is One, who by night, just as well as by day,
Can see all you do, and can hear all you say,
From his glorious throne in the sky.

O then little boy, come away from the tree,
Lest tempted to this wicked act you should be:
'Twere better to starve than to steal;
For the great GOD, who even through darkness can look,
Writes down every crime we commit, in His book;
Nor forgets what we try to conceal.

poem by Jane Taylor
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