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Acting isn't really a creative profession. It's an interpretative one.

classic quote by Paul Newman
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Oldest Profession

Dress in sequence, wearing shoes of pretense
The Oldest Profession glides into view
With devoted help from the media
It invades our minds with all kinds of lies under the guise of protection

It is my personal election
The Oldest Profession does not care how things are done
As long as it is number one

It’s not prejudice against anyone
Many times it’s disguised as fun
It travels from coast to coast
And has the audacity to boast about it’s conquest

Dressed in sequence wearing shoes of pretense
The Oldest Profession glides into view

Now it’s horrendous acts aren’t always behind closed doors
Our children are taught about them in folklores

We glorify the horrors as we sit n our parlors and sip tea
From our childhood and up
We’ve accepted this cup of deceit and we repeat it to our
Love ones

Now the name has been changed to protect the game
But we the people are hip what’s going on
We know this profession does not belong in existence

This profession has destroyed life
Promoted chaos and strife
One thing it has never had and never will have, silence

The Oldest Profession in the world is not prostitution
It is Violence

poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Maybe I'm crazy

I am not Emo
I’m not a Goth
I’m perfectly normal
But I know what it feels to be lost
Stuck in the crowd
Can’t hear a sound
Feels like I’m pushed back in the distance
Can’t come out
Do people see?
Do they believe?
Or am I just crazy from being lonely?

The words burst from my lips as I scream
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
Am I forgotten? Am I just crazy?
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
Somebody hear me
Somebody save me

I check my phone, nobody calls
I can’t help, but feeling so forgot
I put on a show, nobody knows
Where did all the people I used to love, go?
I see a face, forgot its name
But they don’t seem to recognize me, anyway
All of my friends are with somebody else
And now I’m sitting here all by myself
(All by myself)

The words burst from my lips as I scream
(From my lips, as I scream)
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
(But the people, don’t hear a thing)
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
(Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?)
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
(Acting like, don’t know about me)
Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?
(Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?)
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
(Am I just lost, maybe I’m lonely)
Somebody hear me
(Somebody near me)
Somebody save me
(Somebody save me)
Or am I just crazy?
Or am I just crazy?

[...] Read more

poem by Sugar Bear
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I Find It Hard To Believe

I find it hard to believe
I find it hard to believe
That Im embarassed at me
For being upset
Over acting so contemptuously (I find it hard to believe)
Acting so contemptuously (I find it hard to believe)
Acting so contemptuously (that Im embarassed at me)
Acting so contemptuously (that Im embarassed at me)
(for being upset over acting so contemptuously)
Acting so contemptuously (acting so contemptuously)
Acting so contemptuously (on me)
I find it hard to believe

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Feeling Obligated

Someone has to give in and give up,
A dream...
About to be touched.
If a love of another is wanted that much.
Someone has to give in and give up.
Someone has to give in and give up.

Someone has to give in and give up,
A dream...
About to be touched.
If a love of another is wanted that much.
Someone has to give in and give up.
Someone has to give in and give up.

It's hard to love someone,
If that one is creative.

It's hard to leave and separate from...
Someone loved that's very innovative.
Someone loved that is creative,
Someone loved that is creative.

It's hard to love someone,
If that one is creative.

It's hard to leave and separate from...
Someone loved that's very innovative.
Someone loved that is creative,
Someone loved that is creative.

When one wants to be that one and only...
Someone is feeling isolated.
When one wants to be that one and only...
Someone else is feeling obligated.
Someone else is feeling obligated.

It's hard to love someone,
If that one is creative.

It's hard to leave and separate from...
Someone loved that's very innovative.
To leave another feeling obligated.
To leave another feeling obligated.

It's hard to leave and separate from...
Someone loved that's very innovative.
To leave another feeling obligated.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Acting As Your Slave

My hand asleep for hours
Waiting for the needles to begin
I have no control
They proceed to penetrate my skin
Acting as your slave I drink for amber waves
I never have embraced
Acting as your slave I drink an open grave
An epitaph defaced
Killing with compassion
She hasnt heard a word that I have said
Swallowing your passion
I can see a thousand miles ahead
Acting as your slave I drink for barricades
That I have often raised
Acting as your slave I numb my head and rave
Of epitaphs defaced
Acting as your slave I drink while she forgave
With trials left unfaced
Acting as your slave I stumble to her grave
An epitaph defaced

song performed by Verve Pipe
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Double Helix Abecedarian - Xylophonic Resonance He Licks Enigmatic

XYLOPHONIC RESONANCE HE LICKS ENIGMATIC
Kindly refer to notes. and see Temptations and Poetic Pizza Extravaganza below :)

Xylophonic Resonance
double helix abecedarian

The first line begins with A and ends with Z
the next line begins with Z and ends with A
The next line begins with B and ends with Y
The next line begins with Y and ends with B
The next line begins with C and ends with X
The next line begins with X and ends with C

A to Z top down A to Z bottom up

All fizzle, finish frazzled, launched with fizZ.
Zero dreams teem when spirit seems at seA
Because most adepts of philosophY
Yearn for zenith seldom dwell on ebB,
Carpe diem value, seeking sea, sun, seX.
Xylem tree of life’s cannibalistiC
Desires corrupt deeds most men seW,
With survival’s urge soon lost indeeD.
Events churn causal patterns, AsimoV
Viewed clearly, took as starship journey cuE
Finding worlds which may appeal to yoU,
Unknown reader from beyond Time’s gulF -
Great divide between those past, those lefT -
Time travellers peruse these lines to sinG
High praise of poets who’ll know no more springS.
Spontaneousl prose poem picks pensive patH
In patter pattern, feet dance to empoweR.
Rhythm harmonious, need no alibI,
Joins sense, style versatile, from mind's H.Q.,
Questions seeks, finds answers. Soujourn’s hadJ
Knowledge acquires to share more than to keeP,
Pipes clear to others drifting through the darK.
Lark sings dawn’s welcome song, and each man’s taO
Opens connections, on life’s sea a-saiL
Ma d, sad, glad, bad, for threescore years and teN
Never certain of his mortal aiM,
Nor sure to gain posthumous fame, acclaiM,
Making ends meet in hope to rise agaiN
On judgement day should trust and faith prevaiL.
Life-spans increase but trite hullabaloO
Prepares too few for winding sheet, corpse starK,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Whats In It For Me

(billy burnette, bekka bramlett, annie roboff)
Thought we had a good thing baby
You pulled the wool over my eyes
Shouldve seen it coming baby
Now all I see is a cool love dying
Honey I dont want to hold you down
Why you gotta own the lock and the key
Oh tell me baby
Good things just dont come around
And you cant have them for free
No not me
Youve been a river of give
And an ocean of take
Darlin for heavens sake
Youve got me up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Hey
Well you hold me tight then you turn your back
Who could deal with that
You say you want to work it out, boy
Tell me whats in it for me
Youre living in your own world
You act like Im just passing through
Oh yeah
Dont you want to be happy
Dont you know how good I could be
Seems everybodys telling you something
That they know you just want to hear
Oh but you aint gonna hear it from me
Youve been a valley of love
And a mountain of need
Baby, its time you see
Youve got me up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Hey
Well you hold me tight then you turn your back
Who could deal with that
You say you want to work it out, boy
Tell me whats in it for me
Up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Well you hold me tight then you turn your back
Who could deal with that
You say you want to work it out boy
Tell me whats in it for me
Youve been a river of give and a mountain of take
Darlin for heavens sake
Youve got me up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Hey

[...] Read more

song performed by Faith Hill
Added by Lucian Velea
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Everything You Did

6:05
Outside the stadium
Special delivery
For hoops mccann
Brut and charisma
Poured from the shadow where he stood
Looking good
Hes a crowd pleasing man
One on one
Hes schoolyard superman
Crashing the backboard
Hes jungle jim again
When its all over
Well make some calls from my car
Were a star
Its a glamour profession
The l.a. concession
Local boys will spend a quarter
Just to shine the silver bowl
Living hard will take its toll
Illegal fun
Under the sun
All aboard
The carib cannibal
Off to barbados
Just for the ride
Jack with his radar
Stalking the dread moray eel
At the wheel
With his eurasian bride
On the town
We dress for action
Celluloid bikers
Is fridays theme
I drove the chrysler
Watched from the darkness while they danced
Im the one
Its a glamour profession
The l.a. concession
Local boys will spend a quarter
Just to shine the silver bowl
Living hard will take its toll
Illegal fun
Under the sun
Hollywood
I know your middle name
Who inspires your fabled fools
Thats my claim to fame
Jive miguel
Hes in from bogota

[...] Read more

song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Glamor Profession

6:05
Outside the stadium
Special delivery
For hoops mccann
Brut and charisma
Poured from the shadow where he stood
Looking good
Hes a crowd pleasing man
One on one
Hes schoolyard superman
Crashing the backboard
Hes jungle jim again
When its all over
Well make some calls from my car
Were a star
Its a glamour profession
The l.a. concession
Local boys will spend a quarter
Just to shine the silver bowl
Living hard will take its toll
Illegal fun
Under the sun
All aboard
The carib cannibal
Off to barbados
Just for the ride
Jack with his radar
Stalking the dread moray eel
At the wheel
With his eurasian bride
On the town
We dress for action
Celluloid bikers
Is fridays theme
I drove the chrysler
Watched from the darkness while they danced
Im the one
Its a glamour profession
The l.a. concession
Local boys will spend a quarter
Just to shine the silver bowl
Living hard will take its toll
Illegal fun
Under the sun
Hollywood
I know your middle name
Who inspires your fabled fools
Thats my claim to fame
Jive miguel
Hes in from bogota

[...] Read more

song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Glamour Profession

6:05
Outside the stadium
Special delivery
For hoops mccann
Brut and charisma
Poured from the shadow where he stood
Looking good
Hes a crowd pleasing man
One on one
Hes schoolyard superman
Crashing the backboard
Hes jungle jim again
When its all over
Well make some calls from my car
Were a star
Its a glamour profession
The l.a. concession
Local boys will spend a quarter
Just to shine the silver bowl
Living hard will take its toll
Illegal fun
Under the sun
All aboard
The carib cannibal
Off to barbados
Just for the ride
Jack with his radar
Stalking the dread moray eel
At the wheel
With his eurasian bride
On the town
We dress for action
Celluloid bikers
Is fridays theme
I drove the chrysler
Watched from the darkness while they danced
Im the one
Its a glamour profession
The l.a. concession
Local boys will spend a quarter
Just to shine the silver bowl
Living hard will take its toll
Illegal fun
Under the sun
Hollywood
I know your middle name
Who inspires your fabled fools
Thats my claim to fame
Jive miguel
Hes in from bogota

[...] Read more

song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Professional Discontent

Some chose the farm but gave it up with ease,
As it didn't yield the fruits of labour hard,
When changes came in sun, rain, soil and wind,
And nature's furies ruined what escaped!

Some chose a profession, bit white-collared,
And fleeced their clients, customers, patients,
Earning huge sums in easy ways for long,
But gave it through dissatisfaction!

Some chose to be a man, woman of God,
And bounties poured in abundance by grace,
Turned mercenary from missionary,
And left the fold from Shepherd as plain sheep!

No one seems content with one's profession!
No one is satisfied with divine gifts;
No one lives as per Scriptural guidance;
All want to live their earthly life with ease!

Does man really pine to see God's face?
Do men prefer the after-life o'er life?
Even the pious are victims of greed!
Man's troubles escalate when God's forgot!

It matters not what profession you choose!
You got to be dedicated, righteous;
And God rewards each one equally well!
Earthly inequality is man-wrought!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-11-12

poem by John Celes
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World Nurses’ Day,2010

Let love of money never interfere
With sacrificial service for mankind,
In times of ailments, distress, agony,
In noble profession on earth – Nursing.

Let duty to the suffering patients stay
Paramount all life, mitigating pain;
Let selflessness prevail in loving care
Of brethren moribund, in throes of death.

Let love of profession afill the hearts
Those follow Florence Nightingale’s footsteps;
Let God reward thee amply for thy work
In saving lives and curing diseases.

May thy noble profession remain so!
Let ethics not be ignored any day;
Let loving care of human beings make
The earth a paradise to some extent!

‘May God bless all nurses on this most wonderful Day! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-05-2010

poem by John Celes
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The creative and the receptive

To sing is creative; to listen is receptive.
To play is creative; to watch is receptive.
To write is creative; to read is receptive.
In sex, man is creative and woman, receptive.
21.09.2007

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Creative Heart

Where is a creative heart in grave,
all we pray for is acheivement,
ignoring our creative attitude and pure
heart, we keep praying yet our heart are creative in all areas,
can a creative heart be seen by a faded heart?
Indeed no heart is weak.

poem by Senator alufalism
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Creative Mind!

Creative mind!
In the land of the heart of your muse to satisfy me;
But, what about those in the snow?

Creative mind!
Out of love in the land of your muse;
But, are you ready to learn? ! !
For, the muse of this love is all about us.

Creative mind!
Justified by the muse of your love;
And like your works as seen by all,
But, try to be yourself always.

Creative mind!
Love it and enjoy it and play with it;
For, the muse of my love is very fast and very easy! !
And like the joy around you in the land of peace,
But, try to understand my sweet muse of love always.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Vivid Imagination

Vivid imagination should expand
Initiative with intuitions shared
Creating strong momentum unimpaired,
Kicking serf's shackles' strong wrongs most minds b[r]and.
Independent spirit seeks no grand
Embroidered mirage where, when fair truth's bared,
K eystone is found unstable, unprepared,
Valueless, - base built from desert sand,
Integrity, rejecting out of hand
Compromise, incompetence declared,
Kidding not! With facts intact compared,
Intelligence rejects cores coarse, mores bland.
Expediency's unhealthy cup of tea,
Key words are: sound, profound, autonomy!

Veracity and clarity combine
Intensely in a mind which hopes for scope,
Creative recognition not soft soap.
Knowledge wide inside retains design
Innate to contemplate true meanings, line
Existence with the will to grow, not mope,
Keeping ideals intact to underline
Vision deep, whose inner light should shine
Incandescent as the heliotrope.
Charming seems surface smile, yet one must cope,
Keel even though some seek to undermine
Innate principles reject weep whine,
Expect top quality not slippery slope,
Karmic energy to intertwine.

Enchanted by an understanding clear,
Awaiting an osmosis warm whose heart
Should share implicitly, ne'er need to start
To challenge for the sake of challenge here.
Creative thinking helps the mind appear
Open free from artificial art,
Arrogance and intolerance which chart
Shipwreck sure, lure siren insincere.
Touched by heart, tomorrow's travels steer,
Gaining trust, towards berth port where part
And whole are one, soul won with Cupid's dart,
Life, laughter, linked as frontiers disappear.
Energy creative shuns despair,
Choice, voice, combined, find mind binds joys hors pair.

Voice for choice in this decisive year
Important is as effervescent mind
Calls for conditions which can leave behind
Kennelled spirits, steer solutions clear,
Interactive, shared. Ambitions dear

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Those of Creative Inclinations

I love it!
When those who perceive,
My ceative sensibilities...
Exposes a sensitivity,
That implies a character weakness.
Those of creative inclinations are often compared.
With limp wrists and tea cups!

But there are very few I now know or then knew,
Who were shy to tell anyone a thing or two...
Or where to go!
Anyone connected to this creative process knows...
It is not a joke.
Not this process carefully invoked...
To provoke a higher consciousness.

Growing older makes one aware,
Of the strength involved in this!

Nor made of fluff are these creative disciplines.
The only ones who believe they are...
Are those who have unruly children.
And have themselves disconnected...
From the creations of their realities.
Wishing to perceive,
Those of creativity are lazy!
Which for the most part,
Has been reluctantly failures man made!
To get a quick buck.
To find themselves at dead ends...
And out of luck!
Shall I say...
On their 'lazy' butts.

Remove the creative process out of schools...
And the manufacturing of fools are produced.
But then again...
I need not to say that today,
Do I?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Is From Them Expected

Busy are they kept
The minds of those creative
Without sleep to say hours have been slept
Tools they are used
And lives lived blessed

Few who have identified
Their creative connections
Can say they are motivated
By something they do
They themselves initiate

Busy are they kept
The minds of those creative
Without sleep to say hours have been slept
Tools they are used
And lives lived blessed

With a doing done for them selected
And not much of a choice
To leave behind to neglect or forget

Few who have identified
Their creative connections
Can say they are motivated
By something they do
They themselves initiate

Those with gifts and talents given
Will confess from birth
They have known from within
What is from them expected
With a doing done from them to complete next

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All These Busy Busy Entrepreneurial Poets

All these busy, busy entrepreneurial poets
trying to substitute their usefulness for talent.
If you can't sing well enough to bear your own voice
to get lovers and applause on your own merits,
manage a band, control those who can,
network like gyspy moths in a Dutch elm,
take two creative writing courses
from a narcissistic mystagogue projecting
the fraud of the Wizard of Oz on the unsuspecting
listening to a firefly of talent talking like a starmap
about shining, about black holes and supernovas
dark energy and gravitational eyes, and the myriad galaxies
he teaches on the lower rung of a swing
in an institutionalized aviary of higher learning
as if the closest he's ever been to the light
was a dead starfish among the usual relics of a low tide
or sodden firecrackers of insight on a Halloween night.
He teaches you to take out whatever there was never much of
to put in. To strike the definite article
like crab grass out of your well-mown lawn
so you ending up writing in the patois of a robot.

Listen to this swarming starcluster of gnats
in the sunset of the word that's wondering
where all the songbirds went. Maybe it's me
and I've grown reactionary without knowing it
into a vicious old age but I swear my stomach
can't turn another page of a saddle-stitched chapbook
that reads the tea leaves in the broken skull-cup of the moon
like a bowl of soggy cornflakes that taste like breakfast haikus.
You can't live like a maggot and write
like a wounded dragon of the soul. You can't
paint a tsunami in watercolours and claim you know
what it's like to be caught up in the emotional undertow
of a tidal pool that threatened to sweep you out to sea
until your guru or your shrink reminded you like a tugboat
you have to sink before you can call yourself a shipwreck.

I think of Van Gogh. I think of the intensity of a man
of immense humanity, and it occurs to me if he were sitting
on your saffron sectional in your coffee-book living room,
going on obsessively about the nutritional value of cadmium yellow
you'd commit the same sin of omission and condemn him
to his solitude like an asylum for the underfed
listening to the voices in their head telling them
they're better off mad or dead than living on
the aesthetically modified junkfood
you dropp in their begging bowls like chump change.
And, o yes, wouldn't you just be the exception to the rule
who knew how to tell the difference between a sad joke

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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