The Lesson

Chaos ruled OK in the classroom as bravely the teacher walked in the nooligans ignored him his voice was lost in the din 'The theme for today is violence and homework will be set I'm going to teach you a lesson one that you'll never forget'

First Day At School

A millionbillionwillion miles from home Waiting for the bell to go. (To go where?) Why are they all so big, other children? So noisy? So much at home they Must have been born in uniform Lived all their lives in playgrounds Spent the years inventing games That don't let me in. Games That are rough, that swallow you up.

Balances

In life one is always balancing like we juggle our mothers against our fathers or one teacher against another (only to balance our grade average)

A Supermarket In California

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations! What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes! - - and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons? I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the

Father Death Blues

Hey Father Death, I'm flying home Hey poor man, you're all alone Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going Father Death, Don't cry any more Mama's there, underneath the floor Brother Death, please mind the store Old Aunty Death Don't hide your bones Old Uncle Death I hear your groans

My Teacher Wasn'T Half As Nice As Yours Seems To Be

'My teacher wasn't half as nice as yours seems to be. His name was Mister Unsworth and he taught us history. And when you didn't know a date he'd get you by the ear And start to twist while you sat there quite paralysed with fear. He'd twist and twist and twist your ear and twist it more and more. Until at last the ear came off and landed on the floor. Our class was full of one-eared boys. I'm certain there were eight. Who'd had them twisted off because they didn't know a date. So let us now praise teachers who today are all so fine And yours in particular is totally divine.'

The Supply Teacher

Here's the rule for what to do If ever your teacher has the flu Or for some other reason takes to her bed And a different teacher comes instead When the visiting teacher hangs up her hat Writes the date on the board, does this or that Always remember, you have to say this, OUR teacher never does that, Miss!

Frost At Midnight

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,

Homework! Oh, Homework!

Homework! Oh, Homework! I hate you! You stink! I wish I could wash you away in the sink, if only a bomb would explode you to bits. Homework! Oh, homework! You're giving me fits. I'd rather take baths with a man-eating shark,

The Three Wishes

Son, what will you do If you are given three wishes from God? The teacher stares at the 13 years old student With a deep sigh Adam’s tears roll back His eyes as sharp as a razor blade Glancing at Mr. Cool Not a word spoken He picks up his pen and starts to write He folds up the written piece

Two Schools

I put my heart to school In the world, where men grow wise, 'Go out,' I said, 'and learn the rule; Come back when you win a prize.' My heart came back again: 'Now where is the prize? ' I cried. - - 'The rule was false, and the prize was pain, And the teacher's name was Pride.'

Creed

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.

A Bad Or A Good Teacher

A bad teacher is negatively pessimistic A good teacher is positively optimistic A bad teacher swears all the time A good teacher cares in their prime A bad teacher passes on rude fear A good teacher has on good ears A bad teacher discourages

Teaching Xviii

Then said a teacher, 'Speak to us of Teaching.' And he said: No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of our knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.

One Train May Hide Another

In a poem, one line may hide another line, As at a crossing, one train may hide another train. That is, if you are waiting to cross The tracks, wait to do it for one moment at Least after the first train is gone. And so when you read Wait until you have read the next line-- Then it is safe to go on reading. In a family one sister may conceal another, So, when you are courting, it's best to have them all in view Otherwise in coming to find one you may love another.

Budding Ballerina

I was once a 'budding' ballerina, With all the right outfits to wear, There never was anyone keener, I had point shoes and tutus to spare. I was four and a half when I started, Even remember my first big exam, It's funny how some things just stick in your head, I had to go in by myself, and leave Mam.

The Iron Gate

WHERE is this patriarch you are kindly greeting? Not unfamiliar to my ear his name, Nor yet unknown to many a joyous meeting In days long vanished,-- is he still the same, Or changed by years, forgotten and forgetting, Dull-eared, dim-sighted, slow of speech and thought, Still o'er the sad, degenerate present fretting, Where all goes wrong, and nothing as it ought?

A Letter In The Wind

Yellow foliage fallen on my hands Remind me, they once were green Reminisce me of our beautiful time Standing here, witnessing running days Flying and leaving that moment away So soon days changing another season, But I know our time wont be faded away Even it only just golden past days Encarved smiles by those memories

School

Why I am being pushed to school? For refining self and not looking fool, To stay away from home and look cool, Or to learn the system how to pass stool, May be all they are right, So I don't stay home and fight, Always disappear from their sight, Break precious things as sign of might,

On Old Man's Thought Of School

AN old man's thought of School; An old man, gathering youthful memories and blooms, that youth itself cannot. Now only do I know you! O fair auroral skies! O morning dew upon the grass! And these I see--these sparkling eyes, These stores of mystic meaning--these young lives, Building, equipping, like a fleet of ships--immortal ships!