Education Poems
A Country School
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
A quaint, one room, busy place,
Full of good old southern grace,
Lay to the east of Hawthorn Hill,
Somewhat beyond the daffodills.
Over a field and past the cows,
Beneath the deep magnolia boughs;
Beside smooth, clear Crab Creek,
In the shadow of Cheyenne Peak;
Down a tree lined country lane,
Stood the school of Miss Chamberlain.
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A Poets's Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter
by Robert Burns
Thou's welcome, wean; mishanter fa' me,
If thoughts o' thee, or yet thy mammie,
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
My sweet wee lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me
Tyta or daddie.
Tho' now they ca' me fornicator,
An' tease my name in countra clatter,
The mair they talk, I'm kend the better,
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The Little Old Lady In Lavender Silk
by Dorothy Parker
I was seventy-seven, come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I've experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.
When you come to this time of abatement,
To this passing from Summer to Fall,
It is manners to issue a statement
As to what you got out of it all.
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Introductory 05
by Saadi Shirazi
My negligence and backwardness in diligent attendance at the royal court resemble the case of Barzachumihr, whose merits the sages of India were discussing but could at last not reproach him with anything except slowness of speech because he delayed long and his hearers were obliged to wait till he delivered himself of what he had to say. When Barzachumihr heard of this he said: ‘It is better for me to consider what to speak than to repent of what I have spoken.’
A trained orator, old, aged,
First meditates and then speaks.
Do not speak without consideration.
Speak well and if slow what matters it?
Deliberate and then begin to talk.
Say thyself enough before others say enough.
By speech a man is better than a brute
But a beast is better unless thou speakest properly.
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Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 04
by Saadi Shirazi
I saw a schoolmaster in the Maghrib country, who was sour-faced, of uncouth speech, ill-humoured, troublesome to the people, of a beggarly nature and without self-restraint, so that the very sight of him disgusted the Musalmans and when reading the Quran he distressed the hearts of the people. A number of innocent boys and little maidens suffered from the hand of his tyranny, venturing neither to laugh nor to speak because he would slap the silver-cheeks of some and put the crystal legs of others into the stocks. In short, I heard that when his behaviour had attained some notoriety, he was expelled from the school and another installed as corrector, who happened to be a religious, meek, good and wise man. He spoke only when necessary and found no occasion to deal harshly with anyone so that the children lost the fear they had entertained for their first master and, taking advantage of the angelic manners of the second, they acted like demons towards each other and, trusting in his gentleness, neglected their studies, spending most of their time in play, and breaking on the heads of each other the tablets’ of their unfinished tasks.
If the schoolmaster happens to be lenient
The children will play leapfrog in the bazar.
Two weeks afterwards I happened to pass near that same mosque where I again saw the first master whom the people had made glad by reconciliation and had reinstalled in his post. I was displeased, exclaimed ‘La haul’, and asked why they had again made Iblis the teacher of angels. An old man, experienced in the world, who had heard me, smiled and said: ‘Hast thou not heard the maxim?
A padshah placed his son in a school,
Putting in his lap a silver tablet
With this inscription in golden letters:
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Corridors of Learning
by Ghairo Daniels
Corridors of Learning
I sat on my hands while
She questioned my competency
Saw her mascara leaking
Slow murky tears
Master and Servant
Weighing one another’s wounds
Each curious about the others’ past
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Education
by Mario Odekerken
Education is the slow carving of stone,
each lesson a chisel mark against forgetting.
It is the patient weaving of thought into thought,
threading wonder through the fabric of doubt.
It asks for nothing but the willingness to be remade,
again and again,
to find beauty in what is unfinished.
A book opens like a gate into the unknown;
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Propagandists and the Hollow Crowd
by Igor Vykhovanets
Propagandists and the Hollow Crowd
Boldly we will spread deception,
Sold our souls at youth’s inception.
Those with honor never dare
Turn the crowd to fools... or snare?
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Here It Is
by Brady Stewart
Words words words
Who feels better
I want to see those Rais-ed hands,
Those bless-ed smiles,
My classroom babies
Here they are
The words words words,
What mom and dad sent you here for,
Yes?
Chalk on board,
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Writer of Manifestos
by Ian McCleary
My Drawing 1 professor introduced me to the 99 Dada Manifestos of Tristan Tzara. I believe that most of what stuck with me from my art education was my inner desire to rebel.
And what I write today are the continuation of Dada Manifestos started in the 1910's. Dada Manifestos that lay bare the lack of creativity in today's culture and what is needed to change that.
