Funny Poems
Twas the Night Before School Starts
from Ron Yorgason
T'was the night before school starts
And all through the place,
Not a smile was seen
On any kid's face.
Our bags were all stuffed
With our notebooks brand new,
And rulers and pencils
With erasers to chew.
Mournfully we
All crawled into bed,
Knowing too well
That the 'good life' was dead.
Then mom came in whistling
And kissed us goodnight,
With a bright cheery voice
That didn't seem right.
The night dragged on slowly
I just couldn't sleep,
For fear that my math teacher
Would be a real creep.
Or maybe a bully
Would give me a shove,
Or even more evil things
Than I could think of.
When from in the next room
There arose such a clamber,
My mom yelled, "I'm FREE!"
"I'm free 'till next summer!"
This must be a plot
By conspiring moms,
Who just want a break
To experience 'calm.'
Oh, must I go through it?!
How can I go on?
I want to escape
Run off to Saigon!
Nine months is too long
To suffer through school
The classes so rough
And teachers who're cruel.
"Come Donald! Come Conner!
Come Henry VanStation!
Come up to the board,
Do your multiplication!"
"And Julie, stop talking!
And Jimmy, wake up!
And Mary, right now,
Don't do your makeup!"
Teachers ever are hounding
They just never quit.
You do something wrong,
They go into a fit.
And so every year
About this same time,
I lie in bed sleepless
And just moan and whine.
Until morning comes,
And I hear my mom say,
"Good luck with your school!
And have a nice day!"
My Teacher Calls Me Sweetie Cakes
by Kenn Nesbitt
My teacher calls me sweetie cakes.
My classmates think it's funny
to hear her call me angel face
or pookie bear or honey.
She calls me precious baby doll.
She calls me pumpkin pie
or doodle bug or honey bunch
or darling butterfly.
My class is so embarassing
I need to find another;
just any class at all
in which the teacher's not my mother.
The Last Day of School
Summer vacation is starting today.
The teachers are shouting out, “Hip, hip, hooray!”
Our little old principal grins ear to ear,
And runs down the hall shouting, “Summer is here!”
The buses come early - they’re usually late.
The teachers say, “Hurry up! Pack up! Don’t wait!”
The school bell is ringing. There’s no time to chat.
The whole school is emptied in one second flat.
Everyone’s happy. Our spirits are flying.
Except for the parents. They’re sulking and crying.
The Teachers Jumped Out of the Windows
Kenn Nesbitt
The teachers jumped out of the windows.
The principal ran for the door.
The nurse and librarian bolted.
They’re not coming back anymore.
The counselor, hollering madly,
escaped out the door of the gym.
The coach and custodian shouted
and ran out the door after him.
The lunch ladies threw up their ladles,
then fled from the kitchen in haste,
and all of the students looked puzzled
as staff members scurried and raced.
We’d never seen anything like it.
But still, it was pretty darned cool
to see all the staff so excited
to leave on the last day of school.
Falling Asleep in Class
by Kenn Nesbitt
I fell asleep in class today,
as I was awfully bored.
I laid my head upon my desk
and closed my eyes and snored.
I woke to find a piece of paper
sticking to my face.
I'd slobbered on my textbooks
and my hair was a disgrace.
My clothes were badly rumpled
and my eyes were glazed and red.
My binder left a three-ring
indentation in my head.
I slept through class, and probably
I would have slept some more,
except my students woke me
as they headed out the door.
Homework Stew
by Kenn Nesbitt
I cooked my math book in a broth
and stirred it to a steaming froth.
I threw in papers—pencils, too—
to make a pot of homework stew.
I turned the flame up nice and hot
and tossed my binder in the pot.
I sprinkled in my book report
with colored markers by the quart.
Despite its putrid, noxious gas,
I proudly took my stew to class.
And though the smell was so grotesque,
I set it on my teacher’s desk.
My teacher said, "You’re quite a chef.
But still you’re going to get an F.
I didn’t ask for ‘homework stew,’
I said, ‘Tomorrow, homework’s due.’"