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Poems On / About TEACHER  11/26/2015 6:59:25 PM
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Introduction- The poet (Arun Wadhwa) when created this poem, he was in Science class. The teacher has just explained him that the rainbows are not semi-circles, They are circles. When the period was over, The next period was of English. Teacher was deciding a topic to give it to students so that students can make poems with it. Suddenly the poet spoke out- 'Teacher, What about Rainbow' then the teacher said 'Ok! make the poem with rainbow.' Whole class started making poem and finally the poet made the poem in 20 minutes. This was the first poem of the Poet- Arun Wadhwa.

You are a circle,
Like a miracle,
You are the Rainbow in the sky,
But You don't feel shy.

Not at all like sun,
We make your fun,
Rainbow is the best,
In the Universe Test.

You have the color Violet,
But you don't go to the toilet,
You are very colorful,
And Wonderful.

You are the Circle,
Like A Miracle,
You are the Rainbow in the sky,
But You Don't feel Shy.
Arun Wadhwa

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The Girl Who Had Pele's Hair

For: Samantha

The beautiful young red head
moves in mysterious ways
as she pulled her lava orange stick of wax
from her box of crayons
She is not a girl
actually more of a woman
Yet something in her eyes
is where the secret lies

In the Hawaiian sunset her hair twists and turns
rips and burns
like rivers of burning lava
trust me when I say
'The Past is Today'
Part of Pele is in her

The red head sharpens her crayon
smiling to herself
'I used to have a box of crayons
like that when I was little, ' says the teacher next to her
His face is strained and stressed,
A perfect contrast to the girl
'I used to get upset when my crayons
wore down to nubs, ' says the teacher.

The girl with the lava hair smiles,
'You still do, ' she says softly.
The teacher looks at her,
his eyes far away.

Years later the teacher stops his car,
on a rural road, next to an old lady walking,
The old lady's formerly red hair replaced,
by Pele's grayish silver ash.
The teacher rolls down his window,
The old lady smiling through missing teeth.

'Do you need a ride? '
The Teacher asks the old lady.
The old lady looks down the open road.
She shakes her head.
The teacher smiles with tears in his eyes,
And a feeling that will not go away,
remembering the past today.
Joseph DeMarco

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2005 / 06 / 14 - Ways To Give A Test

My chemistry teacher, who is actually very witty
(He said he's been in Lebanon for three years
But he's taught for five years at the university:
A pleasant sentence that made us laugh to tears,
How could he live abroad and teach here?
I still can't manage to grasb that idea, I fear)

So my wise chemistry teacher gave us an exam
From some forgotten records of year nineteen ninety,
The given questions didn't match the taken program
Something he forgot to check out, oh, calamity!

I wonder how do teachers, like him, put their test
I mean do they find another year's session
And give it as it is, leaving their minds at rest?
Someone's got to take from them a confession!

And who's the bloke who has to suffer and not protest?
That's the student who must answer questions he doesn't know
Just because his teacher lacked time to put a decent test
Since he was watching some stupid television show!
A Poem A Day

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Old Female Teachers With Poloroid Cameras Can Catch You Smilin' Surprised.

I once had a substitute teacher with hair of blue...
This fact that i tell to you remains factually true.

One time other i had a female home room teacher with a hairry mustached upper lip...
It gifted her with a five o'clock shadow just under her noses tip.

I once attended a classroom inside a make-shift circle of cabinets
and book shelves and a portable black board.

All this shelving like wagon trained formed inside a school's gymnasium basketball court...
This female teacher, when after we've misbehaved.

T'would fastly whip out her Poloroid Land Camera...
So that she could inform our parents when we were bad, with a
split second visual report.

She was a party pooper this female teacher of ours...
She was a poor sport and also was kind of fat and olden and even
real tiny like short.

So the next time you think that you always have a bad school day...
You could be enrolled in my old alma matter and that of your valuable freedom, you'd have to give up and with pay.

Now you do know what kind of matter this truly does be....
No more free days-only more to be shortly real crappy.

Is that a bad school day? ...
You bet your ass you might kind of say.
Michael Gale

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Poems On / About TEACHER