new school year
old bell chimes
a fresh term
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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new school year
fresh faces everywhere
the same old bell chimes
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Chimes
Hangin' down from my window
Those are my wind chimes
Wind chimes
Wind chimes
In the late afternoon you're
Hung up on wind chimes
Wind chimes
Wind chimes
Though it's hard i try
Not to look at my wind chimes
Wind chimes
Wind chimes
Now and then a tear rolls on my cheek
On a warm breeze the little bells
Tinklin' wind chimes
Wind chimes
Wind chimes
Close your eyes and lean back
Listen to wind chimes
Wind chimes
Wind chimes
It's so peaceful
Close to a lullabye
The wind chimes tinglin'
Tinglin'
Tinglin'
Tinglin'
The wind chimes tinglin'
Tinglin'
Tinglin'
Tinglin'
Da do do da do do da do do da do do
Whisperin' winds send my wind chimes a tinklin'
Whisperin' winds send my wind chimes a tinklin'
Whisperin' winds send my wind chimes a tinklin'
Whisperin' winds send my wind chimes a tinklin'
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bell Tolls
The bell tolls not to alarm us
about a break of war
The bell tolls not to announce
the funeral of a great magician
The bell tolls not for classes
to start the school-year calendar.
But it is ringing for you and me
to bend our knees,
To intercede for our land
and for ourselves
The bell tolls to say a prayer
that opens up
avenues to God's love and mercy.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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After the navy, I transferred to Harvard and finished there. I was there the spring term of 1951 and I stayed through the summer term and a whole other year, so I was able to do two years in a little less than a year and a half.
quote by Harry Mathews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High School sweethearts
started out as high school swwethearts
i sit in front of class
he sits in the back
i pass him his worksheet
he says come sit back here with me
i think to myself
he seems new here
so i sit back there to help
turn out he didnt need it
then i look in to his eyes
what a surprise
he seems so cute
the teacher tell us to hush
so i pass him a note
he reads do you like me yes no maybe
he writes back yes lol you crazy
then the bell rings for lunch
so he set to himself
i came and set with
he ask whats my name
i say bri
he says sweet
my name james
so we go back to class
doin our classwork
this is our sophomore year
we hook up
2 years go by
he went to
a different school
this is now our senior year
class of 2010
heart school sweethearts
never part
even when he change school
so what does that tell you
nothing is impossible
poem by Briangela Jones
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Summer Chimes and Summer Wines
Listening to the summer chimes,
Of summer sounds of summer time,
Bringing all that nature is,
That shows and sounds like,
Summer chimes,
Chimes of soft winds,
Chimes of soft river streams,
Sounds that say of that time and season,
That summer time sounds so sweet,
It rings the sounds of summer chimes,
With rays of sunlight streaming by,
Summer chimes with summer wines,
Can be the momentum interludes of summer times,
When summer time is to be,
There in natures places,
Full of bloom and hidden places,
Where,
Listening to the summer chimes,
Of summer time,
And sitting and drinking,
A summer wine,
With the summer chimes,
And summer wines,
With summer and its nature sounds,
Bringing out the musical chimes,
Of summer sounds,
Along with summer chance,
And the per chance that evolves,
Bringing summer chimes,
With summer wines,
Of true summer chance,
With love intwined,
And summer wine,
So if per chance,
To meet again,
That evolves and begins,
From summer meets,
Bringing that summer chance,
To summer chimes,
With summer wines,
That begins and lasts,
Within in the hearts of those,
That let per chance happen,
And fall in love,
Then it will continue all year long,
For those that took the chance,
In summer chance,
And let the per chance,
Take it course,
And win,
For love to hear,
The summer chimes,
Sipping summer wine.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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The Walking Bell
A CHILD refused to go betimes
To church like other people;
He roam'd abroad, when rang the chimes
On Sundays from the steeple.
His mother said: "Loud rings the bell,
Its voice ne'er think of scorning;
Unless thou wilt behave thee well,
'Twill fetch thee without warning."
The child then thought: "High over head
The bell is safe suspended--"
So to the fields he straightway sped
As if 'twas school-time ended.
The bell now ceas'd as bell to ring,
Roused by the mother's twaddle;
But soon ensued a dreadful thing!--
The bell begins to waddle.
It waddles fast, though strange it seem;
The child, with trembling wonder,
Runs off, and flies, as in a dream;
The bell would draw him under.
He finds the proper time at last,
And straightway nimbly rushes
To church, to chapel, hastening fast
Through pastures, plains, and bushes.
Each Sunday and each feast as well,
His late disaster heeds he;
The moment that he bears the bell,
No other summons needs he.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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School's Out
Watching the ticking of the clock,
Tick-tock tick-tock
The clock that counts our days away.
Tick-tock tick-tock
Two minutes left and shrinking fast.
Tick-tock tick-tock
It’s summer time and school is out!
Thank you Sir for teaching us
Another year is gone.
Thank you Miss for showing us
The meaning of those songs.
Summer’s here, summer’s here,
School is out, school is out.
Although we’re glad it’s holidays
Thank you for the year!
Heavy feet trudging through
The sweet smelling grass.
A sneeze, a speck of hay fever,
Blame it on the class.
A fire bell with lots of groans,
Hurry up, we want to go home,
Ticks on registrations chart
Jimmy, here ma’am, no it’s Mark!
Yes Sir no Sir, three bags full Sir.
Left right, left right.
Emily, Amy, quiet now!
Tick-tock tick-tock
I’m too hot in here now Miss!
Tick-tock tick-tock
Sssshhh, there’s only seconds left.
Thank you Sir for teaching us
Another year is gone.
Thank you Miss for showing us
The meaning of those songs.
Summer’s here, summer’s here,
School is out, school is out.
Although we’re glad it’s holidays
Thank you for the year!
It's now the summer,
School is out,
The last day gone with and enormous shout.
Some of us you'll see again,
Some of us you won't.
But the thing that we want you to know is
Thank you for the year!
poem by Thistle Wargul
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The Lost Bells
Year after year the artist wrought
With earnest, loving care,
The music flooding all his soul
To pour upon the air.
For this no metal was too rare,
He counted not the cost;
Nor deemed the years in which he toiled
As labor vainly lost.
When morning flushed with crimson light
The golden gates of day,
He longed to fill the air with chimes
Sweet as a matin's lay.
And when the sun was sinking low
Within the distant West,
He gladly heard the bells he wrought
Herald the hour of rest.
The music of a thousand harps
Could never be so dear
As when those solemn chants and thrills
Fell on his list'ning ear.
He poured his soul into their chimes,
And felt his toil repaid;
He called them children of his soul,
His home a'near them made.
But evil days came on apace,
War spread his banner wide,
And from his village snatched away
The artist's love and pride.
At dewy morn and stilly eve
The chimes no more he heard;
With dull and restless agony
His spirit's depths was stirred.
A weary longing filled his soul,
It bound him like a spell;
He left his home to seek the chimes --
The chimes he loved so well.
Where lofty fanes in grandeur rose,
Upon his ear there fell
No music like the long lost chimes
Of his beloved bell.
And thus he wandered year by year.
Touched by the hand of time,
Seeking to hear with anxious heart
Each well remembered chime.
And to that worn and weary heart
There came a glad surcease:
He heard again the dear old chimes,
And smiled and uttered peace.
"The chimes! the chimes!" the old man cried,
"I hear their tones at last;"
A sudden rapture filled his heart,
And all his cares were past.
Yes, peace had come with death's sweet calm,
His journeying was o'er,
The weary, restless wanderer
Had reached the restful shore.
It may be that he met again,
Enfolded in the air,
The dear old chimes beside the gates
Where all is bright and fair;
That he who crossed and bowed his head
When Angelus was sung
In clearer light touched golden harps
By angel fingers strung.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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HAPPY TWENTY TWELVE! MMXII - ' Make Minds eXtremely Innocent Innate
The Year much awaited has come
New Year brings happiness Home
Amidst fears and predictions
Time for some humble restrictions
Hope the world thrives and prospers
As the new bell chimes and whispers
All thats worth and worthy for Earth
Shall be blooming and smiling after birth
Make Minds eXtremely Innocent Innate
Good sense of humour makes stress abate
World thrives on Faith and Love
Evergreen Bliss needs Everyone to involve
Twenty Twelve is the year to Evolve
GOD is there to Protect and Solve!
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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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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Chimes are the Wind
Chime’s are the Wind
“Chimes are the wind”, when it goes from Dawn to Twilight.
“Chimes are the wind”, when the sun goes down and the moon goes up.
“Chimes are the wind”, when the Ocean’s tidal waves splash the deep blue and the aqua
water and the tidal pools disappear.
“Chimes are the wind”, when the puffy white clouds cover the golden yellow sun.
“Chimes are the wind”, when the rain floods the river.
“Chimes are the wind”, when there’s a million possibilities.
“Chimes are the wind”, when there are no more possibilities to harm the world
when there’s such a peaceful place in the universe that there is so-many
possibilities there are endless possibilities.
By: Bella Martinez
poem by Bella Martinez
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The School Days are near!
Same shrieking morning alarms,
Same morning fear!
The school days are near, The school days are near!
Sleeping in the bathroom,
From out, Mom shouts, '' DO YOU EVEN HEAR? ''
The school days are near, The school days are near!
So drowsy I am,
Confused, don't know what to wear!
The school days are near, The school days are near!
And entered into the school,
Murmuring silently, '' Oh dear! Oh dear! ''
The school days are near, the school days are near!
And if the first period is Maths,
Not again those equations linear! !
The school days are near, the school days are near!
A look at the load of books,
From the corner of my eye drops a tear!
The school days are near, the school days are near!
Gosh! When will vacations come?
We'll have to wait an year!
The school days are near, the school days are near!
Hoping when we go,
We'll find joy, sheer!
The school days are near, The school days are near! ! : D
poem by HudaM DeGratePoet
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Boyhood is the longest time in life for a boy. The last term of the school-year is made of decades, not of weeks, and living through them is like waiting for the millennium.
quote by Booth Tarkington
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grade
We go to school and we learn
We go to school and we laugh
We go to school and we make friends
We go to school to know life
But parents are thinking something else
You should do better
You should do harder
It's just a year or two do your best
Are grade only part of us?
Does school offer us nothing more than grades?
School teach us how to laugh and cry
School is not only for grade
Please Mom Dad respect that
poem by Custous Angelus
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I didn't figure out the makeup or cute hair or clothes until oh, maybe my junior year of high school.
quote by Catherine Bell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rememberance Day
In the midst of silence we are one,
recalling our past, its misdeeds.
Young lives snatched cruelly,
not cleanly, not kindly.
The silence brings no peace,
it's a haunting bell, clanging.
It sings the same old song
and chimes each year
as we mourn the toll,
the deaths, the atrocities.
Then, as always, we drift off
into our tomorrows,
forgetting, suppressing __
smothering the silence
poem by Ruth Walters
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This is my fourth term and my seventh year. My first year was in 1997, the same year for Vic Snyder. It is still exciting to be there even though Washington is not run by Democrats right now, but we are working very hard.
quote by Loretta Sanchez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Martha
SEXTON! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Her weary hands their labor cease;
Good night, poor Martha,-- sleep in peace!
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha 's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
For many a year has Martha said,
"I'm old and poor,-- would I were dead!"
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
She'll bring no more, by day or night,
Her basket full of linen white.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
'Tis fitting she should lie below
A pure white sheet of drifted snow.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Sleep, Martha, sleep, to wake in light,
Where all the robes are stainless white.
Toll the bell!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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End Of The Year
Its the end of the year
not good enough..the skies ain't clear
This school's been a total jerk
no more phucking homework!
we'll all miss each other
without you guys..next year will be tougher
we were so close like family
we were that friendly
this is the end we go our separate ways
I know without you all it'll be too many days (of school)
we'll all meet new friends
it won't fill my emptiness in heart nor will it mend
we'll all be nervous and have fear
thanks to the end of the year
poem by Christian Yanez
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