Teacher Poems | Poemist

Popular Teacher Poems

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?

......

What Teachers Make

by Taylor Mali

He says the problem with teachers is
What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life
was to become a teacher?
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true
what they say about teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.
I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

......

From An Essay On Man

by Alexander Pope

Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescrib'd, their present state:
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:
Or who could suffer being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n:

......

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

......

Frost At Midnight

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
Came loud--and hark, again ! loud as before.
The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
Have left me to that solitude, which suits
Abstruser musings : save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
'Tis calm indeed ! so calm, that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,

......

Recent Teacher Poems

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,

......

Lessons That Linger

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

It's golden teacher appreciation day, a shiny red apple;
Like scarlet carnations and roses, compel smiles ample.
To worthy ones, who helped shape hopes and dreams,
Like still silence of moonlight, when birdsong screams.

A card for the teacher, at orange sunset of school days,
Whose lessons follow forever, like a purple, misty haze.
Deep emerald days of youth, as yellow butterflies roam,
Will find you again in memory, after you've gone home.

Fresh Perspectives

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I was a learned college professor, who was forever eager to know more,
As blue-gray waves, finding sandy beaches, turn to seek another shore.

I drove to work smiling, in those tangerine days, so glad for avid youths,
Like when dusky stars waltz out dreamy, winking to show hidden truths.

My long days were full, like the pink marguerites, crowding sunny fields,
Or the misty rainbow's vanishing, after a full sky vision's been revealed!

I was suited to my worthy profession, because I had an analytical mind,

......