Teacher Poems | Poemist

Popular Teacher Poems

Creed

by Steve Turner

We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin.
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don't hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.

We believe in sex before during
and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.

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Untitled 03

by Friedrich Schiller

Thee would I choose as my teacher and friend. Thy living example
Teaches me,--thy teaching word wakens my heart unto life.

Saturday At The Canal

by Gary Soto

I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
Too close to dying to understand. The hallways
Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus,
A friend and I sat watching the water on Saturday,
Neither of us talking much, just warming ourselves
By hurling large rocks at the dusty ground
And feeling awful because San Francisco was a postcard

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Peer Pressure

by Vincent G. Mead

Today I have been issued a dare, by my peer,
If I do what they ask I will get in trouble, but they swear,
my life they will not spear
And if I don't they will make me into a rubble I am so
scared, who cares?
Tonight I can't sleep, this trouble is too deep,
I can't make a peep, I began to weep,
Is there no one who cares? That I am so scared?
Because of my Peers, I am filled with fears
I cried out in despair, is there no one who cares?

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Song Of The Open Road

by Walt Whitman

AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune--I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road.

The earth--that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any nearer;

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Recent Teacher Poems

Mother Call me Ayatullah Nurjati (After Learning the Legacy of the Saint)

by Ayatullah Nurjati

Mother called me Ayatullah Nurjati—two words I made into a blind map for this ever-heavier life.
Back then, I thought only she strung them together.

“Ayatullah,” she said, “Sign of Allah.”
I learned to read it in the wrinkles of my father’s brow,
in prayers stumbling from our mouths too busy complaining.

“Nurjati,” she whispered, “Light of the Teak.”
I thought it an old metaphor,
until I realized: teak isn’t valued in its youth.

......

Fools

by Igor Vykhovanets

Fools

Hell trembles under fools:
The worst of all the chains —
A pest that never cools,
Amidst the endless pains.

The "doctor," filthy cop,
The faker president,
The "teacher" — petty flop —

......

Less Than Words Can Tell

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Doctor Fell taught at University Park, like stars gather for enlightenment;
And was stern, diligent and upright, like pink cactus bloom environments.

He was dedicated to his striving students, although strict about lessons;
And there were penalties for those missed, like when grape sun lessens.

Doctor Fell abided by obeying rules, feeling students needed a firm hand.
Infractions yielded extra homework, and often blue detention, unplanned.

Fell had a fair amount of fast friends. He associated with the fine faculty;

......

Lost but Lessoning

by Somali Mukherjee

The lost Wonderland

Made me break down all at once,

But I learnt what’s real.

High Class

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I was an elementary school teacher, with dreaming eyes to the rosy future,
Like the emerald, cherry blossom season, arriving later rather than sooner.

As a creative teacher, I was so popular, as children were my pearled world,
Like the blooming cloud covered expanse, where spicy wind's lately swirled.

I looked forward to adventurous hours, like time with no backward motion,
In deep thrill of golden, new discoveries, of which none had a vague notion.

Evenings with friends, among roses, found nightingale still sweetly singing,

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