Teacher poems
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Plutonian Ode
© Allen Ginsberg
IWhat new element before us unborn in nature? Is there
a new thing under the Sun?
At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative,
Scientific theme
Father Death Blues (Don't Grow Old, Part V)
© Allen Ginsberg
Hey Father Death, I'm flying home
Hey poor man, you're all alone
Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going
Death & Fame
© Allen Ginsberg
When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
Some Things The World Gave
© Mary Oliver
1
Times in the morning early
when it rained and the long gray
buildings came forward from darkness
offering their windows for light.
I Love to Do My Homework
© Pierre Reverdy
I love to do my homework,
It makes me feel so good.
I love to do exactly
As my teacher says I should.
The Tongues We Speak
© Patricia Goedicke
I have arrived here after taking many steps
Over the kitchen floors of friends and through their lives.
Wall, Cave, and Pillar Statements, after Asôka
© Alan Dugan
In order to perfect all readers
the statements should be carved
from The Seasons: Winter
© James Thomson
Father of light and life! thou Good Supreme!
O teach me what is good! teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit; and feed my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure,
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss!
Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl
© John Greenleaf Whittier
To the Memory of the Household It Describes
This Poem is Dedicated by the Author
Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons
© Diane Wakoski
The relief of putting your fingers on the keyboard,
as if you were walking on the beach
and found a diamond
as big as a shoe;
Song of the Open Road
© Walt Whitman
1
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.
Teaching English from an Old Composition Book
© Gary Soto
My chalk is no longer than a chip of fingernail,
Chip by which I must explain this Monday
Summer in a Small Town
© Tony Hoagland
Yes, the young mothers are beautiful,
with all the self-acceptance of exhaustion,
still dazed from their great outpouring,
pushing their strollers along the public river walk.
Letter To Sainte-Beuve
© Charles Baudelaire
On the old oak benches, more shiny and polished
than links of a chain that were, each day, burnished
rubbed by our human flesh, we, still un-bearded,
trailed our ennui, hunched, round-shouldered,
Afraid Of His Dad
© Edgar Albert Guest
Bill Jones, who goes to school with me,
Is the saddest boy I ever see.
Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto III
© Samuel Butler
What made thee, when they all were gone,
And none but thou and I alone,
To act the Devil, and forbear
To rid me of my hellish fear?
Frost at Midnight
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
Oiling
© Norman Rowland Gale
Excuse me, Sweetheart, if I smear,
With wisdom learnt from ancient teachers,
The Creature in the Classroom
© Jack Prelutsky
It appeared iinside our classroom
at a quater after ten,
