Homework Poems

Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
his voice was lost in the din
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School, School, School,
A school is not so cool
We're here 5 days a week
8 hours a day.
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Homage to Kenneth Koch


If I were doing my Laundry I'd wash my dirty Iran
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My pants could maybe fall down when I dive off the diving board.
My nose could maybe keep growing and never quit.
Miss Brearly could ask me to spell words like stomach and special.
(Stumick and speshul?)
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Homework! Oh, Homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you away in the sink,
if only a bomb
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For my poems, my friend Valsa George has a hunger.
She’s over fifty, but, compared to me, she is younger.
She suggested I write about ‘the advantages of being old’.
It’s a challenge, but, Valsa, on this idea you have sold......
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A seated statue of himself he seems.
A bronze slowness becomes him. Patently
The page he contemplates he doesn't see.
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I started on my homework
but my pen ran out of ink.
My hamster ate my homework.
My computer's on the blink.
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They never teach you this at school;
they'll try to teach you reading, writing, 'rithmetic
in their own instructed ways;
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Ricky was 'L' but he's home with the flu,
Lizzie, our 'O,' had some homework to do,
Mitchell, 'E' prob'ly got lost on the way,
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You "adults", you exasperate me
with your evasions and delays.
You're going to have to change
some of the ways that you behave.
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is what we called her. The story was
that her father had thrown Drano at her
which was probably true, given the way she slouched
through fifth grade, afraid of the world, recess
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Now I was hangin' round Nashville writin' songs and playin' 'em for all of the stars
Watchin' 'em laugh and hand 'em back livin' on hope and
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Why do I hate my homework?
It is a pest like a brother
Or a sister of another
It is like a very boring book
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Ever since I set foot in school for my new academic year
It looks like luck has abandoned me
My bus came late to pick me up for school
So guess who is punished, me!
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I was then a young boy of ten.
Was doing homework, before the afternoon game.
The door was closed but the window open,
When I nearly finished, came a surprise, sudden.
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The Homework Machine,
Oh, the Homework Machine,
Most perfect
contraption that's ever been seen.
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You know that if there was one thing,
That you could take from school,
It wouldn't be art or math or history,
It would be work.
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It is the fortune of poeple
that the shadows
of our futures do not
lie heavy
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I am looking for a past
I can rely on
in order to look to death
with equanimity.
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What makes a home safe,
Parents say I love you when you get home from school,
Parents who take a interest in your after school activities,
Parents who want to help them with their homework,
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Homework homework you are so sweet
Homework homework you suck like dead meat
Homework homework you take up my time
Homework homework id rather buy a dead mime.
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When I was little, my stepfather and I would be outside, coloring the driveway with chalk or throwing a frisbee and he'd stop and say, "I'm gonna go stir your mama up."

He'd go in the house, coming out minutes later with my mom hot on his heels, waving her arms and haranguing his retreating back. She couldn't see the big grin on his face as he approached me, "It's good for her heart, " he'd say, chuckling and resuming whatever we were doing, "We've got to keep her on her toes." He's a master of dolorous mischief.
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We will never use mobile phone and other screen
While in car, family, meal, and homework routine.
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Fields of wild flowers in summer bloom, turquoise skies and trees of oak and beech which I fought the imagined enemy's from, I was Geronimo fighting off the 7th calvary, flying off arrows in all directions. That afternoon I was a commando in my dugout hole with a midden bin lid to hide in winning World War 2 with my pals George and James, when I got home I had my supper and a bath and I was Michael again with homework to do for Monday morning.
Michael Cochrane ©
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Equations,

Simultaneous! !
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E is for effort
Required at school
Hardly accepted
But gthe scirge of the fool
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........


Mrs. Blangleberger, ma'am, sir.
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Hey! Are you waiting forthe holidays
If yes, then don't worry as they are very near
Here comes are new session, here comes May
But, what is this fear which drives you away
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