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I think if you get asked to do this, then that's called doing your homework, and I try and do it.

quote by Mark Harmon
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Would you ever believe

WOULD YOU EVER believe if I called a nondescript table of teakwood; as a vivacious bird soaring high in the sky,

Would you ever believe if I called a ruffled sheet of paper; as a chunk of glittering gold,

Would you ever believe if I called a grandiloquent watch embodied with diamonds; as a lump of bedraggled stone,

Would you ever believe if I called a mountain of compacted mud; as a switchboard of pugnacious electricity,

Would you ever believe if I called a resplendent rainbow in the sky; as a broomstick with incongruous bristles,

Would you ever believe if I called a rusty canister of dilapidated iron; as a mesmerizing rose growing in the garden,

Would you ever believe if I called a pink tablet of luxury soap; as a mosquito hovering acrimoniously in the cloistered room,

Would you ever believe if I called a boat rollicking merrily on the undulating waves; as a rustic jungle spider,

Would you ever believe if I called a valley profusely embedded with snow; as an unscrupulous dog on the street,

Would you ever believe if I called a pair of luscious lips; as a disdainfully fetid shoe,

Would you ever believe if I called a fluorescent rod of light; as a jagged bush of cactus growing in the sweltering desert,

Would you ever believe if I called the blazing sun; as a pudgy bar of delectable chocolate,
Would you ever believe if I called an angular sculptured bone; as acid bubbling in a swanky bottle,

Would you ever believe if I called a scintillating oyster; as an inarticulate matchstick coated with lead,

Would you ever believe if I called a cluster of bells jingling from the ceiling; as a sordid cockroach philandering beside the lavatory seat,

Would you ever believe if I called a fruit of succulent coconut; as a dead mans morbid tooth,

Would you ever believe If I called a steaming cup of filter coffee; as gaudily colored water emanating from the street fountains,

Would you ever believe if I called the majestic statue of a revered historian; as a slab of tangy peanut butter,

Would you ever believe if I called a vibrant shirt; as a protuberant pigeon discerningly pecking its beak at grains scattered on the floor,

Would you ever believe if I called a flocculent bud of cotton; as a camouflaged lizard transgressing through wild projections of grass,

Would you ever believe if I called a photograph depicting the steep gorges; as a gutter inundated with obnoxious sewage,

Would you ever believe if I called a lanky giraffe; as a convict nefariously lurking through solitary streets of the city,

Would you ever believe if I called a pair of flamboyant sunglasses; as a weird tattoo to be adhered to the chest,

Would you ever believe if I called a chicken’s egg; as logs of sooty charcoal abundantly stashed in the colossal warehouse,

Would you ever believe if I called a biscuit replete with golden honey; as a ominously slithering reptile in the jungles,

Would you ever believe if I called a bald man possessing a profoundly tonsured scalp; as a gas balloon floating in insipid air,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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No homework

No homework, no homework, no homework
it would be lovely, it would be great,
it would be as good as chocolate cake.

No homework, no homework, no homework,
oh the things I would do, it would be fun,
it would be a cupcake bun.

No homework, no homework, no homework,
an amazing day, but next day at school,
a pop quiz and now the teacher says hurray.

poem by Ben Mannion
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Homework

Written by a. perkins, d. clark, and o. rush.
Oh baby, you know I may be a fool
Im wastin my time by goin to school
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
Oh baby, I said you got me so blind
Im walkin round in circles, I could loose my mind
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
Now baby your as sweet as you can be
Everything you do keep on sending me
Just the kiss of your lips or the touch of your hand
Everything you do is really grand
Oh baby, oh, now what can I do
Im walkin round in circles in love with you
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
Now baby your as sweet as you can be
Everything you do keep on sending me
Just the kiss of your lips or the touch of your hand
Everything you do is really grand
Oh baby, oh, now what can I do
Im walkin round in circles in love with you
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore

song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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Homework Sucks

Homework! Oh homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you away in the sink!
If only a bomb would explode you to bits!
Homework! Oh homework!
You’re giving me the fits!
Homework is a stumbling block
they all say it is the only way
to sharpen my brain
what a drain!
Keep me thoughtful and creative
Encourage me to be innovative
Keep me occupied with some positive motive

Yeah right
I can see some light
The idea is bright

All this talk, talk, talk
I am just doing my homework
As I listen to the clock
Singing out tick, tock, tick, tock
Do not mock, just do your homework

Some teachers say
'You should do more'
But we stand are ground
And make no fuss
Then we say
No Please
Not More
I HATE HOMEWORK

poem by Fahed Sharaf
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I Hate Homework

As the day grows long and weary
My homework begins to parry
On the dueling field of procrastination
Which unfortunately to my teacher’s fascination
Begins to become more
Homework is oh such a bore
Homework is always a chore
Oh how I hate it to my very core
Day and night it haunts me
Day and night it taunts me
It looms over me like a great darkness
Even though with my great sharpness
It ever grows and piles up like clothes
It becomes more than I am and consumes me right away
From the second I set fit in this home oh how I fear I shall not live another day
But now is the time the time is to be
For homework to be done and me to go free
Slumber is not easy my mind is never at rest
So because of homework I cannot perform my best
Homework is a foul and horrible abomination
Made from the devil’s own form of creation
It causes stress and anger please just take it away
Oh how I fear I shall not live another day.
One day I know those teachers will pay
For assigning so much homework to ruin my day
My day becomes more gray
As time goes by it seems to fly
There’s just so much I want to cry

poem by Damian Dauthdaert
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Tests And Homework And Quizzes AND SCHOOL

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.

Those ugly things you want to blow up,
and smash,
and burn,
and crinkle,
and rip,
and tear,
and throw out.

Those things that make you have to remember,
all the stuff you learned before,
and to study, study, study,
'till your eyes fall out.

“Oh, sorry I wasn't paying attention”
and
'Did we learn this? '
never helps when the test monster gives you the paper, And wishes you well.

But you know she doesn't mean that.
She doesn't want us to do good,
she just wants us to hurry so she can give us another test.

And then it's June!
Good that the year's almost over,
But bad 'cause........
FINAL EXAMS

Oh no! ! !
The mother of all tests,
And what did you say? We have to take more than one!
I'm done for.

Your sitting there,
hand clenched on the pencil,
face sweating,
and then BINGO!
You get the answer.

You jump up and scream,
in the silent classroom.

You shout out with joy 'cause they’re all over.
No more exams, or quizzes, or tests, or homework.

You bring up you paper and sit back down.

[...] Read more

poem by David Kulczyk
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Why do i hate my Homework?

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
Or like my mom’s disgusting cook
It is a creature of its own
The kind that makes me gag and moan

Why do I hate my homework?
I really hate my homework
It makes me want to go berserk
I don’t want to do my homework today
Nor tomorrow or the 25th of May
Homework is like poisonous snakes
Or the mystery meat my cafeteria makes

I rather listen to my Ipod
Then write an essay about Cape Cod
I rather spend my days staring at the sun
Then do my homework that needs to be done
I rather swim in a pool with a shark
Then learn fractions with my math teacher, Mr. Clark
And this is why I hate my homework

By Anthony Pham & his little sister, Sharon

poem by Anthony Pham
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Home work

sometimesa my home work is small
sometimes my home work is long
but when ever i do my home work
it is always wrong

sometimes i do my home work at a low pace
sometimes i do my homework at a lfast lane
but how ever i do my homework
my homework is still a pain

sometimes my homework is eazy
sometimes homework is hard
but whenever i can't do my homework
i feel like a retard
by
mehwish shakeel

poem by Mehwish Shakeel
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My excuses

I started on my homework
but my pen ran out of ink.
My hamster ate my homework.
My computer's on the blink.

I accidentally dropped it
in the soup my mom was cooking.
My brother flushed it down the toilet
when I wasn't looking.

My mother ran my homework
through the washer and the dryer.
An airplane crashed into our house.
My homework caught on fire.

Tornadoes blew my notes away.
Volcanoes struck our town.
My homework was taken
by an evil killer clown.

Some aliens abducted me.
I had a shark attack.
A pirate swiped my homework
and refused to give it back.

It took so long to make these up
I realized, with dread,
it would have just been easier
to do the work instead.

poem by Arielle Perkins
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Gareth And Lynette

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent,
And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring
Stared at the spate. A slender-shafted Pine
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away.
'How he went down,' said Gareth, 'as a false knight
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Were mine to use--O senseless cataract,
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy--
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows
And mine is living blood: thou dost His will,
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know,
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall
Linger with vacillating obedience,
Prisoned, and kept and coaxed and whistled to--
Since the good mother holds me still a child!
Good mother is bad mother unto me!
A worse were better; yet no worse would I.
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer,
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,
A knight of Arthur, working out his will,
To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, when he came
With Modred hither in the summertime,
Asked me to tilt with him, the proven knight.
Modred for want of worthier was the judge.
Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,
"Thou hast half prevailed against me," said so--he--
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute,
For he is alway sullen: what care I?'

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair
Asked, 'Mother, though ye count me still the child,
Sweet mother, do ye love the child?' She laughed,
'Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.'
'Then, mother, an ye love the child,' he said,
'Being a goose and rather tame than wild,
Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my well-beloved,
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.'

And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes,
'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine
Was finer gold than any goose can lay;
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours.
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

THE ARGUMENT

RINTRAH roars and shakes his
fires in the burdenM air,
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

Once meek, and in a perilous path

The just man kept his course along

The Vale of Death.

Roses are planted where thorns grow,

And on the barren heath

Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted,
And a river and a spring
On every cliff and tomb;

5

THE MARRIAGE OF

And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth:
Till the villain left the paths of ease
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility ;

And the just man rages in the wilds
Where Uons roam.

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in

the burdened air,
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

As a new heaven is begun, and it is
now thirty-three years since its advent,
the Eternal Hell revives. And lo!
Swedenborg is the angel sitting at
the tomb: his writings are the Unen

[...] Read more

poem by William Blake
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Hoemwork Love

I love my homework,
Yes I do!
I do my homework,
Yes I do!
Can you imagine why,
I never start to cry,
'Oh my homework's just too much! '
ever let it out of my clutch,
My homework's are emty
Tutor doesn't shout ' Memty! '
I have not seen anything so fair,
I don't have homework,
So there!

poem by Sharmila Saheed
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My Luck Abandoned Me

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!
In the first few days we were given so much homework,
So many projects to make,
So many tests to prepare for
I thought my head would break
The teachers are very strict
And on craft items, my pocket-money I will have to spend
And nowadays the level of homework given has increased so much
That doing your homework is the latest trend
What’s more, to make matters even worse
My best friends have been shuffled now
I want to see them, but where’s the time
To them how can I talk, how?
And these days I am always
Forgetting to do my homework
Now my memory’s failing me
And all I can do is sulk
I can describe class V
In nothing but a deep sigh
Wait I just remembered I forgot,
To do my homework. Got to go. Bye!

poem by Risha Ahmed
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Jonathan Nathan Go Do Your Homework

JONATHAN NATHAN GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

Little Jonathan Nathan looked at his mama.
“Juan wasn’t at school today.
His family are illegal immigrants. They’re being deported.”
“Good, they have no business being here.”

“He was looking through the fence at school,
And he was crying. Why was he sad? ”
“He’s being sent back to Mexico where he belongs.
You know he and his family are here illegally.”

“Are we here legally? ”
“Why Jonathan Nathan, of course we are! ”
And, I am a Daughter of the Revolution.
This country was built on such as we.”

“Were we here before anyone else? ”
“Well, no, there were some Indians and Mexicans.
But they don’t count. We count.”
“Why do we count and they don’t? ”

“JONATHAN NATHAN GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK! ”

“I can’t. I keep seeing Juan crying at the fence, ”
“We had a right to this land by the Doctrine of Manifest Destiny.
That means from sea to sea, we have a right to this land.
God gave us that right.” “MAMA! Did you hear God say so? ”

“JONATHAN NATHAN GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK! ”

“Mama, where did we come from? ”
“Well, they took us out of jails in England, mostly,
because we had to steal food for our families,
And they sent us to America.”

“Mama, that’s almost like Juan’s Mama and Daddy!
They came here to earn money to feed their family!
And they do work no one else wants to do.
They’re like we were long ago! ”

“JONATHAN NATHAN GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK! ”

“But Mama…” “We fought a war for this land and won.”
“Didn’t it belong to the Mexican people first? ”
“Well, yes, and we offered them money for the land,
But they refused to be reasonable about it.”

“Our teacher says our Constitution is the hope of the world.
I was just wondering, since they were here first,

[...] Read more

poem by Mary Naylor
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My Excuses

 I started on my homewor
but my pen ran out of ink.
My hamster ate my homework.
My computer's on the blink.
I accidentally dropped itin the soup my mom was cooking.
My brother flushed it down the toiletwhen I wasn't looking.
My mother ran my homeworkthrough the washer and the dryer.
An airplane crashed into our house.
My homework caught on fire.
Tornadoes blew my notes away.
Volcanoes struck our town.
My homework was taken 
by an evil killer clown.
Some aliens abducted me.
I had a shark attack.
A pirate swiped my homework
and refused to give it back.
It took so long to make these upI realized, with dread,
it would have just been easier
to do the work instead. 

poem by Poem Master
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How Many Times Have You Asked Yourself

Finally...
You reach home.
Believing you are sheltered.
And will get deserving rest!
Then suddenly the phone rings.
To leave you wondering,
If the caller is someone you should address.

And with unanswered questions,
You unleash from your mind...
What should be done next!

You want to know...
How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!

How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!
When you have issues you have not yet to address.

How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!

Relax?
You can't!
A tension is enhanced.
The phone keeps ringing to erase the chance.
And...

How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Star 69

You dont have to take the bar exam to see
What you did is ignoramus 103
Where have I got to hang my hat
You dont have line to me
All this just to be your friend
I was there to tell you
Extortion and arson, petty larceny
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you hung up my line.
Star 69.
I know all about the warehouse fire.
I know squirrelies didnt chew the wire.
Three people have my number, the other two were with me.
I dont stand tall, but Im not your patsy.
This time you have gone too far with me.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you hung up my line.
Star 69.
Whyd you put your quarter down on me?
This reads like some dark inside edition, hard copy.
I cant be your character witness, I cant be your alibi.
Dont arrange the fbi, here this spy versus spy.
You my friend are guilty as can be.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I cant be your alibi.
Star 69.

song performed by REM
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I Saw It Myself (Short Verse Drama)

Dramatis Personae: Adrian, his wife Ester, his sisters Rebecca and Johanna, his mother Elizabeth, the high priest Chiapas, the disciple Simon Peter, the disciple John, Mary Magdalene, worshipers, priests, two angels and Jesus Christ.

Act I

Scene I.- Adrian’s house in Jerusalem. Adrian has just returned home after a business journey in Galilee, in time to attend the Passover feast. He sits at the table with his wife Ester and his sisters, Rebecca and Johanna. It’s just before sunset on the Friday afternoon.

Adrian. (Somewhat puzzled) Strange things are happening,
some say demons dwell upon the earth,
others angelic beings, miracles take place
and all of this when they had put a man to death,
had crucified a criminal. Everybody knows
the cross is used for degenerates only!

Rebecca. (With a pleasant voice) Such harsh words used,
for a good, a great man brother?
They say that without charge
he healed the sick, brought back sight,
cured leprosy, even made some more food,
from a few fishes and loafs of bread…

Adrian. (Somewhat harsh) They say many things!
That he rode into Jerusalem
to be crowned as the new king,
was a rebel against the state,
even claimed to be
the very Son of God,
now that is blasphemy
if there is no truth to it!

Johanna. I met him once.
He’s not the man
that you make him, brother.
There was a strange tranquilly to Him.
Some would say a divine presence,
while He spoke of love that is selfless,
visited the sick, the poor
and even the destitute, even harlots.

Adrian. (Looks up) There you have it!
Harlots! Tax collecting thieves!
A man is know by his friends,
or so they say and probably
there is some truth to it.

Ester. Husband, do not be so quick to judge.
I have seen Him myself, have seen
Roman soldiers marching Him to the hill
to take His life, with a angry crowd
following and mocking Him.

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Change

The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.

I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?

with no response to my question there was a pause...

but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...

for a change.

poem by Daniel McCann
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Merlin And Vivien

A storm was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.

For he that always bare in bitter grudge
The slights of Arthur and his Table, Mark
The Cornish King, had heard a wandering voice,
A minstrel of Caerlon by strong storm
Blown into shelter at Tintagil, say
That out of naked knightlike purity
Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried girl
But the great Queen herself, fought in her name,
Sware by her--vows like theirs, that high in heaven
Love most, but neither marry, nor are given
In marriage, angels of our Lord's report.

He ceased, and then--for Vivien sweetly said
(She sat beside the banquet nearest Mark),
'And is the fair example followed, Sir,
In Arthur's household?'--answered innocently:

'Ay, by some few--ay, truly--youths that hold
It more beseems the perfect virgin knight
To worship woman as true wife beyond
All hopes of gaining, than as maiden girl.
They place their pride in Lancelot and the Queen.
So passionate for an utter purity
Beyond the limit of their bond, are these,
For Arthur bound them not to singleness.
Brave hearts and clean! and yet--God guide them--young.'

Then Mark was half in heart to hurl his cup
Straight at the speaker, but forbore: he rose
To leave the hall, and, Vivien following him,
Turned to her: 'Here are snakes within the grass;
And you methinks, O Vivien, save ye fear
The monkish manhood, and the mask of pure
Worn by this court, can stir them till they sting.'

And Vivien answered, smiling scornfully,
'Why fear? because that fostered at THY court
I savour of thy--virtues? fear them? no.
As Love, if Love is perfect, casts out fear,
So Hate, if Hate is perfect, casts out fear.
My father died in battle against the King,
My mother on his corpse in open field;
She bore me there, for born from death was I
Among the dead and sown upon the wind--

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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