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Poems On / About TEACHER  9/4/2015 7:19:38 AM
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  113.     

My College

I do remember every pretty face Over there, I do remember my colleagues' pretty Smiles and laughs, I do remember the first day I was over there, I do remember my whole teachers One by one, I do remember my whole books Over there, I do keep in my mind Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, Under The Greenwood Tree's Thomas Hardy,....,.... I do remember that pretty building Which contained my college, I do remember the pretty days and The pretty walks with Ahmad Rami, Mohammad Yousef, Abu Ibrahim,...., And George,..., I do keep in my mind all these pretty Memories of being a freshman at that time, I am today looking for all that is good To be again with the pretty memories of My pretty college and all that it contained, Days took me away looking for my pretty memories And for days are still in my brain, I never forget those days we spent together With all my pretty colleagues at that time, I love my college, I love my colleagues, I love my whole teachers, I love all my books, I love all my pretty memories over there, I love the pretty sea that was a pretty friend All of us and I love everyone and everything over there.
 
MOHAMMAD SKATI

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  114.     

My Teacher

That brilliant star that shines With love and knowledge, My teacher is that candle That burns to light our path, That great man who sacrifices All his or her entity to make us Different, educated, and straight, He teaches us the meaning of words, The meaning of numbers, and the meaning Of love anytime, anywhere, and everywhere, He gives all that we need in life And his pretty knowledge lights up our path, He never abandons his duties because He is a true, honest, and great man, He gives us all that we need in life, so We're different with his true giving, He lights up our knowledge with a lot Of pretty sciences and great love, He gives more than what he takes because He is a great giver to all generations, My teacher is my pretty example that I respect and I estimate very well, so He is the man who remains the real Image in life for me and for everyone.
 
MOHAMMAD SKATI

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  115.     

Deathly Talking

As the teacher is ready
To come into class and teach
The students are in the washers
Shining their hair and teeth with bleach
The teacher is on his way
And students prepare to yell and jump
All waiting the new miserable teacher
They are ready to run him down and end him with a stomp
And as the poor teacher walks into the room
The criminal children are ready to loom
They prepare to throw stones and catapult books on their way
And as the teacher walks inside
They all look along and stray
Not expecting a fight
It’s just another teacher gone
Learning is their worst enemy
It has always been all along
The teacher marches in
Ready for the first day on the job
Not expecting a world war 3
And not expecting a worldwide mob
The teacher gets in
Welcomed with flying books and rocks
People kept shouting though the teacher urged them to stop
All speaking at once the teacher’s mind would just pop
The teacher gets ready
Reaching into his stock
Paper, books, and rocks cover the entire floor
Then the teacher explodes
Releasing an enormous roar
Revealing his weapons and death devices
The teacher takes out a pistol and shoots them like lices
Then a rifle is found and fires at sight
Then shotguns are shown shooting anyone with all their might
The rest are held hostage
Face to face with a 50-cal
Threatening every person
From innocent, to gangster, to gangster’s pal
All look frightened
And look desert dry
Not knowing if it’s time to apologize or cry
One stands up thinking to show he is brave
With an RPG
The ruthless teacher sends him to his grave
Now that the teacher is done
He looks away
Says it was either his terms or the mafia way
And now let that be a lesson for each of you to learn
Not one
Not one soul, Should speak out of turn!
 
Adam EA

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  116.     

! ! Two Birds On The Same Tree

Two birds rest on the same tree;
their eyes are bright;

they look alike; yet one
is the Teacher; one the Student;

the Student tastes all the many fruits
upon that tree; the Teacher sits, just watches,

filled with love and pride;
the eyes of both are bright;

when the Student has tasted all,
the Teacher asks what has been learnt; for

only the Teacher knows within their heart:
that now the Student is the teacher;

the Teacher listens as a student;
the Student speaks now as a teacher

who has learned this of themself;
the Teacher’s eyes are bright:

knowing that to live it through
shows the knowledge to be true;

the Student is teaching the Teacher now, of
how to teach; the Teacher glows to know

the Student may surpass the Teacher;
knowledge shines from both their eyes;

who is the more glorious of these two
who share both the same name?

who rejoice to need the other;
who rejoice to be the other;

now they are silent; now the tree’s rejoicing too;
Its roots above; its fruits below;

its leaves, a shelter;
its branches, home.

*

[ Leaning on a poem of Kabir: Indian readers will be familiar with
'two birds in a tree' as a metaphor for acting with detachment; Kabir takes this further, into knowledge gained from wise action...]
 
Michael Shepherd

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