Citatepedia^®.com

Each lama has his own teaching.

Tibetan proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Bama Lama Bama Loo

Bama Lama, Bama Loo
Got a gal named Lucinda
They call her the great pretender
Got a gal named Lucinda
They call her the great pretender
'Cause when she talks
She says Bama Lama, Loo
Welllllll, Bama Lama, Bama Loo
Bama Lama, Bama Loo
Bama Lama, baby, Bama Loo, yeah
Bama Lama, Bama Loo
The way she smiles, she drives me wild
Bama Lama, Bama Loo
Oh, yeah.....yoo....wah
Well, I asked my little baby for a kiss
She shook her head around like this
Asked my little baby for a kiss
She shook her head around like this
She said, wahhhhhhhhh, all right
Yeah, Bama Lama, Bama Loo
Bama Lama, Bama Loo
Bama Lama, baby, Bama Loo, yeah
Bama Lama, Bama Loo
The way she smiles
She drives me wild
Bama Lama, Bama Loo.......

song performed by Tom Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Dalai Lama Who Loved Wine, Women and Song

Here the May lilacs blossom in the garden
Their fragrance sprawls in the air of spring.

Yet my mind drifts on wings of a daydream
To a far away land of peach-treed valleys
Embraced by snow-capped mountains.

One night there on the Roof of the Earth
A young man in the holy city of Lhasa
Listened to the chanting of mantras
Not for the sake of enlightenment
But in order to sense her breath.

That month he span all the pray wheels
Not for the sake of freeing his soul
But in order to touch her finger prints.

That year he prostrated on the ground
With his hands clasping the earth
Not for the sake of adoring Buddha
But in order to sense her warmth.

That incarnation he crossed green forests
He passed through farmlands and deserts
He climbed a hundred thousand mountains
Not for the sake of afterlife
But in order to meet her on the road.

Who was this young man?

Descending from the Monpa Tribe
He was born in 1683 at Urgelling
In the Monastery near Tawang in India.

His parents gave him the name
Losang Rigdzin Tsangyang Gyatso
In the Tibetan language it means
Ocean of Melodious Songs.

His trunk of life was cut short though
Just a child yet and he became
Like an uncrowned king in the land
And even so he remained modest
Humble and unassuming.

He traveled about on foot
He kept no personal servants
He brewed his own tea
And served his guests himself.

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Hartal
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Bama Lama Bama Loo

Bama lama bama loo
Gotta girl named lucinda
They call her the great pretender
Gotta girl named lucinda
They call her the great pretender
And when she talks
She says a bama lama loo
Chorus
Bama lama bama loo
Bama lama bama loo
Bama lama bama loo
Bama lama bama loo
Well I dig her style
Shes bout to drive me wild
With bama lama bama loo
Well I asked my little baby for a kiss
She shook her head around like this
Well I asked my little girl for a kiss
She shook her head around like this
She said ....
(chorus)

song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Teaching Of The Facts Can Relax

Vulnerability when needed,
Can attract true love.
With a getting of some pity too.

A vulnerability when needed,
Can attract true love.
With a bit of innocence,
That can put one in the mood.

And when,
Facts of life are slow...
A teaching of the facts can relax.
A teaching of the facts,
Can get one to relax.

And when,
A nervousness sets in...
A teaching of the facts can relax,
In those moments.
A teaching of the facts can relax.

And when,
Eyes begin to cry...
A teaching of the facts can relax,
In those moments.
A teaching of the facts can relax.
A teaching of the facts can relax.

Vulnerability when needed,
Can attract true love.
With a teaching of the facts to relax,
In those moments.
A teaching of the facts can relax.

A vulnerability when needed,
Can attract true love.
With a bit of innocence,
That can put one in the mood.

And when,
A nervousness sets in...
A teaching of the facts can relax,
In those moments.
A teaching of the facts can relax.

And when,
Eyes begin to cry...
A teaching of the facts can relax,
In those moments.
A teaching of the facts can relax.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sociology Assignment

THE APPLICATION OF SOCIOLOGY OF EDUCATION IN CLASSROOM TEACHING

INTRODUCTION
Sociology of education, as defined by Pavalko (1976) , is the scientific analysis of the social processes and patterns involved in the educational system. It is concerned with educational aims, methods, and institutions in relation to social and cultural forces of the society in which they function. This assumes that education is a combination of social acts and it deals with human interaction. In the education of the individual, it concerns the influence of social life and social relationships on the development of personality. Sociology of education is very significant as it introduces a teacher to a collection of techniques that are required in classroom teaching. Such techniques include; understanding and applying interaction in the classroom, the disposition of norms to the students by the teachers, understanding teacher-student relationship and communication, provision of career guidance and finally understanding social roles of teachers and students. This essay, therefore, discusses how we, as teachers to be, can apply the above sociological techniques in classroom teaching in secondary schools.

INTERACTION
A classroom, like any other social group, requires all the members to participate and interact with each other for a common goal. A teacher as a leader in the classroom can make sure that there is interaction among his/her students by forming study groups or circles. In these study circles there is mutual influence and benefit among students since students can participate in the discussions that the group undertakes. Interaction in these groups can be cooperative and competitive among students (Ottaway,1960) .

In these groups members are in face to face interaction with each other and there are a small number of participants, this encourages the students to speak out their minds on a given topic. This is so because in a small group every student is given a chance to express himself/herself as compared to the whole class. This gives a chance to some students who can not express themselves fully when there are many people around them. This helps students to build self confidence since their views can be heard by their peers. It also builds a habit of doing things together as a result there is unity among members of the group (Ashley et. al.,1970) .

In this case, the teacher as a leader in the classroom does not dominate in the classroom activities but rather just controls the thoughts and behaviour of his pupils and sets the tone of the interaction patterns in the classroom. The teacher is also there to facilitate in the discussions. However, a teacher needs not to always be present in these groups since some students may not interact fully in the presence of their teacher than their peers. In this case, indirect control from a teacher may be more effective than direct (Ottaway,1960) .

NORMS
Sociology of education analyzes the sociological processes that have a bearing in the education system. One of such sociological processes is the disposition of norms that a teacher imparts in his/her students through interaction in class. The students’ awareness of these norms facilitates the teaching process, on the part of the teacher, and the learning process on the part of students. The impartation of norms on the students is referred to as the hidden curriculum because it is not included on the formal curriculum. Though not included on paper, the students are supposed to know these norms because the way they conduct themselves in class (morally) will affect the teaching and learning processes either positively or negatively. For instance, some students may choose not to cooperate in taking assignments. This tendency may be triggered by the students’ lack of proper direction in their behavior that departs from the values and norms that guide the society. Such students if not handled professionally by the teacher may cause havoc in class. This is where sociology of education becomes vital to classroom management in secondary schools. In sociology of education a teacher learns how to manage students, both those who are morally upright and those morally decayed.

Sociology of education also instructs teachers to be exemplary. The teaching ethics are also very clear on this point as Ashley et al. (1970) declare that teaching professional training emphasizes moral virtues and exemplary behavior on the part of teachers. They have to behave, dress and speak as role models. True to that proverb that says “action speaks louder than words”, teacher’s behavior will have a great impact on the conduct of his/her students. If the teacher is not morally upright the students are likely to be like him/her in their conduct. One other point that may help curb indiscipline in students is through the provision of enough work to keep the students busy. This is helpful because when the students are idle they tend to misbehave (Abromitis,2009) .

TEACHER-STUDENT RELATIONSHIP AND COMMUNICATION
The maintenance of a harmonious social relationship between a teacher and those undergoing socialization (students) , is one of the applications of sociology of education in a classroom. The social interaction within the classroom will help teachers understand the psychological variables that affect the social behaviour of students. For instance, a student’s performance may be affected by poverty and funeral at home among other things. This stresses that each individual is a member of a wide family and gets influenced by social and cultural factors as well. A teacher, therefore, is supposed to identify those students who are not doing well in class as expected and try to find the source of their problems and counsel them accordingly. For instance, sociology of education enables a teacher to establish the real cause of impoliteness in some students that even cause destructions during classes. A teacher does this through inquiries that he/she makes about the naughty students’ back ground that sometimes may be responsible for the students’ bad behavior.

The teacher’s awareness of such backgrounds will enable him/her to know where to start the intervention of shaping the behavior of students. When the good behavior of once ill-mannered students is restored, the teaching and learning processes go smoothly. This suggests that there should be a good communication and interaction between teachers and students. However, Zeleny (1948) as cited in Pavalko (1976) warns that the teacher should not be too friendly with the students. This is because it will be very difficult to provide counseling to them and eventually fail to induce changed behaviour when they go wrong.
CAREER GUIDANCE
A school as a social institution is expected to produce people who are reliable for continuity of a society as far as leadership and management of social institutions is concerned. In view of this, we can say it is important for teachers to include lessons in decision-making and career guidance. Though career guidance is over looked by many schools, it plays an important role. Harris (1999) says career guidance helps students to identify the work-related competences they are developing through the various school subjects and relate them to their career planning. In short, career guidance acts as an advocate for students in establishing their career ladders.

Career guidance needs enforcement because not all students are aware of the different job opportunities that are in the corporate world. For instance, asking children from rural areas about their ambitions, most of them will talk about nursing and teaching as opposed to those from urban areas who will talk of becoming, a pilot, an accountant, a lawyer and many more. This is due to parents’ or guardians’ ‘level of education and children’s exposure to media or other sources of information. Therefore, a teacher should not take it for granted that all students are aware about careers.

A teacher can impart career lessons through different ways. First of all, a teacher needs to include in his or her curriculum a special time at least 20 to 30 minutes per week for career lessons (Harris,1999) . In a classroom, a teacher may use personal approach, where he or she can ask students of their ambitions and provide information on the requirements and the institution(s) that offer(s) them. Secondly, a teacher can use interactive and experimental exercises, where he or she can put students into groups and ask them to interview different personnel on their professions and how they managed to achieve them. Afterwards students can present their findings to a class. Apart from motivating students, this method can also promote interaction between students and the community.

SOCIAL ROLES OF TEACHERS AND STUDENTS
Social role is among the five basic concepts in the sociology of education. A social role is a behavior appropriate to a particular position in a social group. A classroom as a sub-social system has actors and participants, who are teachers and students respectively. Sociology of education enables a teacher to realize his/her role and at the same time helps the students realize theirs. The teacher playing his/her role has to teach and encourage the students to learn. The role of a teacher is really a combination of sub-roles which the skillful teacher fits to produce a useful pattern of teaching. One of these sub-roles includes, being an instructor, whereby the teacher gives instructions and shows the students in a classroom how to learn and answer questions. This is the role the teacher prepares for, explicitly and directly. On the other hand, the students on their part have to listen, attend classes, submit assignments regularly and take examinations. Cooperation demands high degree of predictability of conduct and requires that individuals should make personal sacrifices in favour of societal expectations. In other words, where a teacher’s personal interests or commitments are in conflict with his or her role as a teacher, his/her personal interests have to give way to his/her teaching role (Ezewu,1983) .

There is a social and a personal aspect of every role that is significant to an individual. For instance, a person learns the expected and rewarded behaviour for each role. Students learn when to give priority to a particular role. In a classroom situation, the students learn to take the role of a pupil most of the time rather than the role of a playmate. (Havighurst et al.,1963) .

CONCLUSION
After discussing the above sociological techniques we have the audacity to conclude that Sociology of education adds to the teacher’s kit of intellectual tools. In this case, a set of sociological insights and concepts that will allow him/her to take account in his decision-making organization, cultural and interpersonal factors at work in his/her environment. Therefore, Sociology of education is essential as it equips teachers with great knowledge on how to socialize their students in a classroom situation in secondary schools.

LIST OF REFERENCES.

Abromitis, B. (2009, Feb 27) .Teachers Creating an effective learning Environment in a
monitored Classroom; Sociology of Education. www.google.com.

Ashley, J.B., Cohen, S.H., & Slatter, R.G. (1970) . An Introduction to the Sociology of
Education. Macmillan and Co Ltd: London & Basingstoke, pp.117-139

Ezewu, E.B.A. (1983) . Sociology of Education. Longman: London, pp.13-14

Harris, S. (1999) . Careers education: contesting policy and practice. Sage

[...] Read more

poem by Innocent Masina Nkhonyo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Temora - Book II

ARGUMENT.

This book opens, we may suppose, about midnight, with a soliloquy of Ossian, who had retired from the rest of the army, to mourn for his son Oscar. Upon hearing the noise of Cathmor's army approaching, he went to find out his brother Fillan, who kept the watch on the hill of Mora, in the front of Fingal's army. In the conversation of the brothers, the episode of Conar, the son of Trenmor, who was the first king of Ireland, is introduced, which lays open the origin of the contests between the Gael and the Fir-bolg, the two nations who first possessed themselves of that island. Ossian kindles a fire on Mora: upon which Cathmor desisted from the design he had formed of surprising the army of the Caledonians. He calls a council of his chiefs: reprimands Foldath for advising a night attack, as the Irish were so much superior in number to the enemy. The bard Fonar introduces the story of Crothar, the ancestor of the king, which throws further light on the history of Ireland, and the original pretensions of the family of Atha to the throne of that kingdom. The Irish chiefs lie down to rest, and Cathmor himself undertakes the watch. In his circuit round the army he is met by Ossian. The interview of the two heroes is described. Cathmor obtains a promise from Ossian to order a funeral elegy to be sung over the grave of Cairbar: it being the opinion of the times, that the souls of the dead could not be happy till their elegies were sung by a bard. Morning comes. Cathmor and Ossian part; and the latter, casually meeting with Carril the son of Kinfena, sends that bard, with a funeral song, to the tomb of Cairbar.

FATHER of heroes! O Trenmor! High dweller of eddying winds! where the dark-red thunder marks the troubled clouds! Open thou thy stormy halls. Let the bards of old be near. Let them draw near with songs and their half viewless harps. No dweller of misty valley comes! No hunter unknown at his streams! It is the car-borne Oscar, from the field of war. Sudden is thy change, my son, from what thou wert on dark Moi-lena! The blast folds thee in its skirt, and rustles through the sky! Dost thou not behold thy father, at the stream of night? The chiefs of Morven sleep far distant. They have lost no son! But ye have lost a hero, chiefs of resounding Morven! Who could equal his strength, when battle rolled against his side, like the darkness of crowded waters? Why this cloud on Ossian's soul? It ought to burn in danger. Erin is near with her host. The king of Selma is alone. Alone thou shalt not be, my father, while I can lift the spear!

I rose in all my arms. I rose and listened to the wind. The shield of Fillan is not heard. I tremble for the son of Fingal. "Why should the foe come by night? Why should the dark-haired warrior fall?" Distant, sullen murmurs rise; like the noise of the lake of Lego, when its waters shrink, in the days of frost, and all its bursting ice resounds. The people of Lara look to heaven, and foresee the storm! My steps are forward on the heath. The spear of Oscar is in my hand? Red stars looked from high. I gleamed along the night.

I saw Fillan silent before me, bending forward from Mora's rock. He heard the shout of the foe. The joy of his soul arose. He heard my sounding tread, and turned his lifted spear. "Comest thou, son of night, in peace? Or dost thou meet my wrath? The foes of Fingal are mine. Speak, or fear my steel. I stand not, in vain, the shield of Morven's race." "Never mayest thou stand in vain, son of blue-eyed Clatho! Fingal begins to be alone. Darkness gathers on the last of his days. Yet he has two sons who ought to shine in war. Who ought to be two beams of light, near the steps of his departure."

"Son of Fingal," replied the youth, "it is not long since I raised the spear. Few are the marks of my sword in war. But Fillan's soul is fire! The chiefs of Bolga crowd around the shield of generous Cathmor. Their gathering is on the heath. Shall my steps approach their host? I yielded to Oscar alone in the strife of the race of Cona!"

"Fillan, thou shalt not approach their host; nor fall before thy fame is known. My name is heard in song; when needful, I advance. From the skirts of night I shall view them over all their gleaming tribes. Why, Fillan, didst thou speak of Oscar? Why awake my sigh! I must forget the warrior, till the storm is rolled away. Sadness ought not to dwell in danger, nor the tear in the eye of war. Our fathers forgot their fallen sons, till the noise of arms was past. Then sorrow returned to the tomb, and the song of bards arose. The memory of those who fell quickly followed the departure of war: when the tumult of battle is past, the soul in silence melts away for the dead.

"Conar was the brother of Trathal, first of mortal men. His battles were on every coast. A thousand streams rolled down the blood of. his foes. His fame filled green Erin, like a pleasant gale. The nations gathered in Ullin, and they blessed the king; the king of the race of their fathers, from the land of Selma.

"The chiefs of the south were gathered, in the darkness of their pride. In the horrid cave of Moma they mixed their secret words. Thither often, they said, the spirits of their fathers came; showing their pale forms from the chinky rocks; reminding them of the honor of Bolga. 'Why should Conar reign,' they said, 'the son of resounding Morven?'

"They came forth, like the streams of the desert, with the roar of their hundred tribes. Cona was a rock before them: broken, they rolled on every side. But often they returned, and the sons of Selma fell. The king stood, among the tombs of his warriors. He darkly bent his mournful face. His soul was rolled into itself: and he had marked the place where he was to fall: when Trathal came, in his strength, his brother from cloudy Morven. Nor did he come alone. Colgar was at his side: Colgar the son of the king and of white-bosomed Solin-corma.

"As Trenmor, clothed with meteors, descends from the halls of thunder, pouring the dark storm before him over the troubled sea: so Colgar descended to battle, and wasted the echoing field. His father rejoiced over the hero: but an arrow came! His tomb was raised without a tear. The king was to revenge his son. He lightened forward in battle, till Bolga yielded at her streams!

"When peace returned to the land: when his blue waves bore the king to Morven: then he remembered his son, and poured the silent tear. Thrice did the bards, at the cave of Furmono, call the soul of Colgar. They called him to the hills of his land. He heard them in his mist. Trathal placed his sword in the cave, that the spirit of his son might rejoice."

"Colgar, son of Trathal," said Fillan, "thou wert renowned in youth! but the king hath not marked my sword, bright streaming on the field. I go forth with the crowd. I return without my fame. But the foe approaches, Ossian! I hear their murmur on the heath. The sound of their steps is like thunder, in the bosom of the ground, when the rocking hills shake their groves, and not a blast pours from the darkened sky!"

Ossian turned sudden on his spear. He raised the flame of an oak on high. I spread it large on Mora's wind. Cathmor stopt in his course. Gleaming he stood, like a rock, on whose sides are the wandering blasts; which seize its echoing streams, and clothe them with ice. So stood the friend of strangers! The winds lift his heavy locks. Thou art the tallest of the race of Erin, king of streamy Atha!

"First of bards" said Cathmor, "Fonar, call the chiefs of Erin. Call red-haired Cormar: dark-browed Malthos: the sidelong-looking gloom of Maronnan. Let the pride of Foldath appear. The red-rolling eye of Turlotho. Nor let Hidalla be forgot; his voice, in danger, is the sound of a shower, when it falls in the blasted vale, near Atha's falling stream. Pleasant is its sound on the plain, whilst broken thunder travels over the sky!"

They came in their clanging arms. They bent forward to his voice, as if a spirit of their fathers spoke from a cloud of night. Dreadful shone they to the light, like the fall of the stream of Bruno, when the meteor lights it, before the nightly stranger. Shuddering he stops in his journey, and looks up for the beam of the morn!

"Why delights Foldath," said the king, "to pour the blood of foes by night? Fails his arm in battle, in the beams of day? Few are the foes before us; why should we clothe us in shades? The valiant delight to shine in the battles of their land! Thy counsel was in vain, chief of Moma! The eyes of Morven do not sleep. They are watchful as eagles on their mossy rocks. Let each collect beneath his cloud the strength of his roaring tribe. To-morrow I move, in light, to meet the foes of Bolga! Mighty was he that is low, the race of Borbar-duthul!"

"Not unmarked," said Foldath, "were my steps be. fare thy race. In light, I met the foes of Cairbar. The warrior praised my deeds. But his stone was raised without a tear! No bard sung over Erin's king. Shall his foes rejoice along their mossy hills? No they must not rejoice! He was the friend of Foldath. Our words were mixed, in secret, in Moma's silent cave; whilst thou, a boy in the field, pursued'st the thistle's beard. With Moma's sons I shall rush abroad, and find the foe on his dusky hills. Fingal shall die without his song, the gray-haired king of Selma."

" Dost thou think, thou feeble man," replied Cathmor, half enraged: "Dost thou think Fingal can fail, without his fame, in Erin? Could the bards be silent at the tomb of Selma's king; the song would burst in secret! the spirit of the king would rejoice! It is when thou shalt fall, that the bard shall forget the song. Thou art dark, chief of Moma, though thine arm is a tempest in war. Do I forget the king of Erin, in his narrow house? My soul is not lost to Cairbar, the brother of my love! I marked the bright beams of joy which travelled over his cloudy mind, when I returned, with fame, to Atha of the streams."

Tall they removed, beneath the words of the king. Each to his own dark tribe; where, humming, they rolled on the heath, faint-glittering to the stars: like waves in a rocky bay, before the nightly wind. Beneath an oak lay the chief of Atha. His shield, a dusky round, hung high. Near him, against a rock, leaned the fair stranger of Inis-huna: that beam of light, with wandering locks, from Lumon of the roes. At a distance rose the voice of Fonar, with the deeds of the days of old. The song fails, at times, in Lubar's growing roar.

"Crothar," began the bard, first dwelt at Atha's mossy stream! A thousand oaks, from the mountains, formed his echoing hail. The gathering of the people

was there, around the feast of the blue-eyed king. But who, among his chiefs, was like the stately Crothar? Warriors kindled in his presence. The young sigh of the virgins rose. In Alnecma was the warrior honored: the first of the race of Bolga.

"He pursued the chase in Ullin: on the moss-covered top of Drumardo. From the wood looked the daughter of Cathmin, the blue-rolling eye of Con-láma. Her sigh rose in secret. She bent her head, amidst her wandering locks. The moon looked in, at night, and saw the white tossing of her arms; for she thought of the mighty Crothar in the season of dreams.

"Three days feasted Crothar with Cathmin. On the fourth they awaked the hinds. Con-láma moved to the chase, with all her lovely steps. She met Crothar in the narrow path. The bow fell at once from her hand. She turned her face away, and half hid it with her locks. The love of Crothar rose. He brought the white-bosomed maid to Atha. Bards raised the song in her presence. Joy dwelt round the daughter of Cathmin.

[...] Read more

poem by James Macpherson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Scripture of the Golden Eternity

1
Did I create that sky? Yes, for, if it was anything other than a conception in my mind I wouldnt have said 'Sky'-That is why I am the golden eternity. There are not two of us here, reader and writer, but one, one golden eternity, One-Which-It-Is, That-Which- Everything-Is.

2
The awakened Buddha to show the way, the chosen Messiah to die in the degradation of sentience, is the golden eternity. One that is what is, the golden eternity, or, God, or, Tathagata-the name. The Named One. The human God. Sentient Godhood. Animate Divine. The Deified One. The Verified One. The Free One. The Liberator. The Still One. The settled One. The Established One. Golden Eternity. All is Well. The Empty One. The Ready One. The Quitter. The Sitter. The Justified One. The Happy One.

3
That sky, if it was anything other than an illusion of my mortal mind I wouldnt have said 'that sky.' Thus I made that sky, I am the golden eternity. I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

4
I was awakened to show the way, chosen to die in the degradation of life, because I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

5
I am the golden eternity in mortal animate form.

6
Strictly speaking, there is no me, because all is emptiness. I am empty, I am non-existent. All is bliss.

7
This truth law has no more reality than the world.

8
You are the golden eternity because there is no me and no you, only one golden eternity.

9
The Realizer. Entertain no imaginations whatever, for the thing is a no-thing. Knowing this then is Human Godhood.

10
This world is the movie of what everything is, it is one movie, made of the same stuff throughout, belonging to nobody, which is what everything is.

11
If we were not all the golden eternity we wouldnt be here. Because we are here we cant help being pure. To tell man to be pure on account of the punishing angel that punishes the bad and the rewarding angel that rewards the good would be like telling the water 'Be Wet'-Never the less, all things depend on supreme reality, which is already established as the record of Karma earned-fate.

12
God is not outside us but is just us, the living and the dead, the never-lived and never-died. That we should learn it only now, is supreme reality, it was written a long time ago in the archives of universal mind, it is already done, there's no more to do.

13
This is the knowledge that sees the golden eternity in all things, which is us, you, me, and which is no longer us, you, me.

14
What name shall we give it which hath no name, the common eternal matter of the mind? If we were to call it essence, some might think it meant perfume, or gold, or honey. It is not even mind. It is not even discussible, groupable into words; it is not even endless, in fact it is not even mysterious or inscrutably inexplicable; it is what is; it is that; it is this. We could easily call the golden eternity 'This.' But 'what's in a name?' asked Shakespeare. The golden eternity by another name would be as sweet. A Tathagata, a God, a Buddha by another name, an Allah, a Sri Krishna, a Coyote, a Brahma, a Mazda, a Messiah, an Amida, an Aremedeia, a Maitreya, a Palalakonuh, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 would be as sweet. The golden eternity is X, the golden eternity is A, the golden eternity is /\, the golden eternity is O, the golden eternity is [ ], the golden eternity is t-h-e-g-o-l-d-e-n-e-t-e-r- n-i-t-y. In the beginning was the word; before the beginning, in the beginningless infinite neverendingness, was the essence. Both the word 'god' and the essence of the word, are emptiness. The form of emptiness which is emptiness having taken the form of form, is what you see and hear and feel right now, and what you taste and smell and think as you read this. Wait awhile, close your eyes, let your breathing stop three seconds or so, listen to the inside silence in the womb of the world, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, re-recognize the bliss you forgot, the emptiness and essence and ecstasy of ever having been and ever to be the golden eternity. This is the lesson you forgot.

15
The lesson was taught long ago in the other world systems that have naturally changed into the empty and awake, and are here now smiling in our smile and scowling in our scowl. It is only like the golden eternity pretending to be smiling and scowling to itself; like a ripple on the smooth ocean of knowing. The fate of humanity is to vanish into the golden eternity, return pouring into its hands which are not hands. The navel shall receive, invert, and take back what'd issued forth; the ring of flesh shall close; the personalities of long dead heroes are blank dirt.

16
The point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity.

17
It came on time.

[...] Read more

poem by Jack Kerouac
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lessons Of Love

(s. garrett/g. ballard)
See the children play
Listen to the things they say
One-on-one to one another
Theyre just having fun
Finding out it can be done
They dont seperate by cover
Ooh, young hearts
Facing to feel it so naturally
And the flower grows from the seed and
Chorus:
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And were bound to be learning
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Got some work to do
Theres so much we can improve
Piece by piece we come together, yeah
In the neighborhood
I know we can make it good
But weve got to make it better
Oh woh oh, inside each of us has a romelody
But weve got to find our harmony
Practice makes perfect and we tryin rnough
And weve got to remember
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Bridge:
Imagine how this world could be
If all of us would live in peace
Nothing good comes easily
Together starts with you and me
Yeah, oh yeah, aha
Lessons of love
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And were bound to be learning
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And weve got to remember
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Practice makes perfect, try it enough
(oh, never too young, aha)
And weve got to be learning
The lessons of love (lessons of love)

[...] Read more

song performed by Lea Salonga
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Spirit Of Crazy Horse

This world is of me
And I am of it
It makes me who I am
What I must be
The birds fly freely
They are my family
Teaching freedom
The bear and buffalo - my family
Teaching strength, endurance
The beaver and tortoise - my family
Teaching perseverance, patience
The wolf - my family
Teaching loyalty, friendship
The fox - my family
Teaching wisdom, insight
The air - my breath
The river - my blood
The grass - my bed
The starry night - my blanket
To remove any piece of this
Diminishes me
Suffocates me
Destroys me
When I fight
Not only for my people but my family
To die fighting is the way of my family
To resist servitude until my death is honorable
The time of resistance is now
To fight or be broken
To stand tall - not to crawl
The day my breath joins the wind will be a good day.

poem by Claude H Oliver II
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

What was taught fought with that wrought to sought

Democratic leaders work to keep voters rites fired up over a fiery election right
and forgive them, instead of seeking revenge, knowing not to fight
policy overly simplistic at times less inspiring works sung
in teaching respect for authority while children are still young.

God will be there to comfort you and work within the soul of your beloved child.
Men of this world do not desire righteous woman or those meek and mild.
This world seeks and does work to destroy that purity,
because of our mental, moral putrid disunity.

God taught us how to rear taken children, how to take care of bereft,
and how to have courage to fight the good fight of faith then left.
Ability to fight illness by eating teaching and community hospitals ere
help support our continuing work by being wrought with sought that ought here.

Private, liberal arts institution affiliated with the church
and dedicated to preparing students for taking the lurch
to solve problems with recognition, emphasize how God works in vision,
constantly seeking a consistently faithful position.

What history taught about what the world chose to ignore transfer
allowance of army of Christian zealots to do the refer work defer
and a teacher explained at length positive philosophy of teaching feasible,
given difficulties of fighting troops, it seems reasonable.

Furious fighting forces fly in those aircraft protocal
that nobody can even with cartoons teaching portion control.
Schools ease into age seeking wisdom to ultimately wash dishes,
thus finding common ground in working with what was thought your land and wishes.

Think about a professional designer speeding in creative race;
consider police still seeking clues in unresolved mystery case;
schools were requiring creationism to be taught alongside
battle in the courts sought by Christian conservatives along defense divide.

But the work done on this dismal earth exhausts.
The breaks taken from bankrupted reality wroughts.
Fighting for a contemplative life is akin to waving stick in the air,
but will not deter in the all-important work of creating diverse welcome pray.

Short term in campus will seek confirmation from the courts to doubt
in the neighborhoods said that as many as all out
constantly seek to maximize time students have to work hard to fall in lap
increasing impact in the fight against the achievement gap.

Specialist's work restores smiles of knowledgeable knowledge lovers,
so making keeping taught slopes in shaped dives that make living teaching others.
Hoarse trainer's passion for full faith must be taught as the apostles deliberate
fighting against work to expedite the day when some pope will have sought to consecrate.

poem by Hercolena Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

What Makes The Dalai Lama Lovable?

His posture
From so many years
Holding his robe with one hand
Is odd.

His gait
Also.

One's own body
Aches
Witnessing
The sloping
Shoulders
& Angled
Neck;

One hopes
He
Attends
Yoga class
Or does Yoga
On his own
As part
Of prayer.

He smiles
As he bows
To Everything:
Accepting
The heavy
Burdens
Of
This earth;

It's
Toxic
Evils
& Prolific
Insults.

Even so,
He sleeps
Through
The night
Like a child
Because
Thank goodness
That is something
Else
Daylong

[...] Read more

poem by Alice Walker
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Death & Fame

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
But l want a big funeral
St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Mark's Church, the largest synagogue in
Manhattan
First, there's family, brother, nephews, spry aged Edith stepmother
96, Aunt Honey from old Newark,
Doctor Joel, cousin Mindy, brother Gene one eyed one ear'd, sister-
in-law blonde Connie, five nephews, stepbrothers & sisters
their grandchildren,
companion Peter Orlovsky, caretakers Rosenthal & Hale, Bill Morgan--
Next, teacher Trungpa Vajracharya's ghost mind, Gelek Rinpoche,
there Sakyong Mipham, Dalai Lama alert, chance visiting
America, Satchitananda Swami
Shivananda, Dehorahava Baba, Karmapa XVI, Dudjom Rinpoche,
Katagiri & Suzuki Roshi's phantoms
Baker, Whalen, Daido Loorie, Qwong, Frail White-haired Kapleau
Roshis, Lama Tarchen --
Then, most important, lovers over half-century
Dozens, a hundred, more, older fellows bald & rich
young boys met naked recently in bed, crowds surprised to see each
other, innumerable, intimate, exchanging memories
"He taught me to meditate, now I'm an old veteran of the thousand
day retreat --"
"I played music on subway platforms, I'm straight but loved him he
loved me"
"I felt more love from him at 19 than ever from anyone"
"We'd lie under covers gossip, read my poetry, hug & kiss belly to belly
arms round each other"
"I'd always get into his bed with underwear on & by morning my
skivvies would be on the floor"
"Japanese, always wanted take it up my bum with a master"
"We'd talk all night about Kerouac & Cassady sit Buddhalike then
sleep in his captain's bed."
"He seemed to need so much affection, a shame not to make him happy"
"I was lonely never in bed nude with anyone before, he was so gentle my
stomach
shuddered when he traced his finger along my abdomen nipple to hips-- "
"All I did was lay back eyes closed, he'd bring me to come with mouth
& fingers along my waist"
"He gave great head"
So there be gossip from loves of 1948, ghost of Neal Cassady commin-
gling with flesh and youthful blood of 1997
and surprise -- "You too? But I thought you were straight!"
"I am but Ginsberg an exception, for some reason he pleased me."
"I forgot whether I was straight gay queer or funny, was myself, tender
and affectionate to be kissed on the top of my head,
my forehead throat heart & solar plexus, mid-belly. on my prick,

[...] Read more

poem by Allen Ginsberg
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Tibet- A Lost Land and People

They want to live in peace,
The people of the ‘Roof of th’ world’;
They want to sleep in Nature’s lap,
But cannot do with ease!

A Buddhist country wedged between
World’s two most-populous nations;
Twelve thousand feet high MSL;
A culture most unique.

The Chinese eyes were on Tibet,
They’d eyed the plateau high;
The Dalai Lama- their leader
Is in exile in India.

One thirty-thousand refugees,
Are mostly in India;
They want Tibet’s independence,
But China won’t accede.

Oh, what a sorry tale to hear!
Their land is long denied;
A mountain terrain, beautiful
Their home is ‘Land of snows! ’

They wish to rid their Chinese yoke;
But China won’t give in;
And proud about His Holiness,
The Lama who can’t sleep!

The Chinese invaded Tibet
And will not simply leave;
They’ve put their own people in here;
While Tibetans have fled.

Why China with her vast terrain
Should seize the mountain-land?
-Denuding forests of its trees,
And planting own settlers!

Monks or nuns, none are spared;
Thousands have just been killed;
And many more have spent their lives,
Tortured life-long in jails!

The people of Tibet are strong
With spirit not weakened;
They hope the Chinese will relent-
Return their land to them.

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Eli Eli lama sabacthani

I

If I could go back in time to a hill
where a rough cross stands
and look at the scene
where the creator of the world perishes,
I would have understood
how it’s to hang innocent for everybody’s sins
and for a god to be captured
in human flesh.

II

If I could go back in time to a hill
where a rough cross stands
I would have known
how His exclamation of fear
“Eli Eli lama sabacthani”
really hits through flesh
and how it feels to be forsaken by God and man
and what it means
not to account those that persecuted him.

(Reference: Eli Eli lama sabacthani => My God, my God, why has though forsaken me?)

poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Bigotry's Victim

I.
Dares the lama, most fleet of the sons of the wind,
The lion to rouse from his skull-covered lair?
When the tiger approaches can the fast-fleeting hind
Repose trust in his footsteps of air?
No! Abandoned he sinks in a trance of despair,
The monster transfixes his prey,
On the sand flows his life-blood away;
Whilst India's rocks to his death-yells reply,
Protracting the horrible harmony.

II.
Yet the fowl of the desert, when danger encroaches,
Dares fearless to perish defending her brood,
Though the fiercest of cloud-piercing tyrants approaches
Thirsting--ay, thirsting for blood;
And demands, like mankind, his brother for food;
Yet more lenient, more gentle than they;
For hunger, not glory, the prey
Must perish. Revenge does not howl in the dead.
Nor ambition with fame crown the murderer’s head.

III.
Though weak as the lama that bounds on the mountains,
And endued not with fast-fleeting footsteps of air,
Yet, yet will I draw from the purest of fountains,
Though a fiercer than tiger is there.
Though, more dreadful than death, it scatters despair,
Though its shadow eclipses the day,
And the darkness of deepest dismay
Spreads the influence of soul-chilling terror around,
And lowers on the corpses, that rot on the ground.

IV.
They came to the fountain to draw from its stream
Waves too pure, too celestial, for mortals to see;
They bathed for awhile in its silvery beam,
Then perished, and perished like me.
For in vain from the grasp of the Bigot I flee;
The most tenderly loved of my soul
Are slaves to his hated control.
He pursues me, he blasts me! 'Tis in vain that I fly:--
What remains, but to curse him,--to curse him and die?

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Alphabet A Was Once An Apple

A was once an apple pie, apple apply papply
B was once bouncy ball, bally bally bouncy ball
C was once a little cat, catty couty catty little cat
D was once little dog, doggy dagy doogy little dog
E was once soaring eagle, eagly giggly soaring eagle
F was once littlel fox, foxy faxy little fox
G was once little goat, goaty gooty little goat
H was once a litlle hen, heeny hanny little hen
I was once black ink, inky inniky black ink
J was once funny jester, jestary jesteery funny jester
K was once little kitten, kitty katty little kitten
L was once a little lama, aama leemy a little lama
M was once wild moose, moosy masa wild moose
N was once tiny nut, nutty natty tiny nut
O was once orange, rangy rongy little orange
P was once panda, panny pandy little panda
Q was once sweet queen, queeny neeny sweet queen
R was once a rabbit, rabbity battity little rabbit
S was once a snake naky naky sneaky snake
T was once a turtle, tuttly tattly little turtle
U was once an umbrella, brilla lilla cute umberla
V was once ice cream, vanilla nilla neely ice cream
W was once a wolf, wolfy woofy little wolf
Y was once a yarn, yarny yorny soft yarn
Z was once a zebra, zeeby zabby zooby zebra

poem by Sherif Monem
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Tibet

Tibet..
All reflected glories some are china come against Japan. China grasping greed as pick up Tibet for long and till now is law.
Venal official claim their own country lands.
China value china olden lands the fishing island which stand near the seas of Japan..
China says they own the fishing island.
Fishing island has change of owner countries for several times. Ok logically pick up fishing island regain their china lands.
Fishing islands back to china all as china grasping greed.
There are sin and china capture Tibet from DALA LAMA.
DALA LAMA and his precedents own and charge Tibet at the older next turns.
Now china arms are strong and all their policies may drum at the worlds but first is Japan which is this chesses and capturing cards.
One should love their country soils but fair for other countries.
Free the Tibet.
Free the Tibet before picking up fishing island and Japan seas that flowed near.
China deaden sounds are gongs and drums.
Get into deathful ends are creepy ways.
China matches are long are sad.
Only saints should lives every more.
China sins are then sinning.
Polar moods are wars are killing forces.
Give the Tibet back to old Tibet leaders all are rights.
---Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3---

poem by Cheung Shun Sang
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The White Cliffs

I
I have loved England, dearly and deeply,
Since that first morning, shining and pure,
The white cliffs of Dover I saw rising steeply
Out of the sea that once made her secure.
I had no thought then of husband or lover,
I was a traveller, the guest of a week;
Yet when they pointed 'the white cliffs of Dover',
Startled I found there were tears on my cheek.
I have loved England, and still as a stranger,
Here is my home and I still am alone.
Now in her hour of trial and danger,
Only the English are really her own.

II
It happened the first evening I was there.
Some one was giving a ball in Belgrave Square.
At Belgrave Square, that most Victorian spot.—
Lives there a novel-reader who has not
At some time wept for those delightful girls,
Daughters of dukes, prime ministers and earls,
In bonnets, berthas, bustles, buttoned basques,
Hiding behind their pure Victorian masks
Hearts just as hot - hotter perhaps than those
Whose owners now abandon hats and hose?
Who has not wept for Lady Joan or Jill
Loving against her noble parent's will
A handsome guardsman, who to her alarm
Feels her hand kissed behind a potted palm
At Lady Ivry's ball the dreadful night
Before his regiment goes off to fight;
And see him the next morning, in the park,
Complete in busbee, marching to embark.
I had read freely, even as a child,
Not only Meredith and Oscar Wilde
But many novels of an earlier day—
Ravenshoe, Can You Forgive Her?, Vivien Grey,
Ouida, The Duchess, Broughton's Red As a Rose,
Guy Livingstone, Whyte-Melville— Heaven knows
What others. Now, I thought, I was to see
Their habitat, though like the Miller of Dee,
I cared for none and no one cared for me.

III
A light blue carpet on the stair
And tall young footmen everywhere,
Tall young men with English faces
Standing rigidly in their places,
Rows and rows of them stiff and staid

[...] Read more

poem by Alice Duer Miller
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Warm Welcome to Teachers Today

Gone are the days of Guru-shishya!
Teachers of mettle are on the wane
Most things seem changed in today’s world
Ethics is on a downward trend

Students feel they can learn themselves
The Internet gives a false confidence
But none can be blamed for how things are
Virtues are declining fast!

Yet, teaching is a noble art!
Good teachers are a country’s wealth
Teachers must put their heart, mind, soul
Into teaching – their professional goal!

A teacher must be role-model
A teacher must be exemplary
A teacher must be knowledgeable
A teacher must be dedicated

Let’s change the world of teaching then
Let’s share with love, selflessly ken
Let’s make better all our children
Let’s make the student’s life, heaven!

Let noble thoughts fill teacher’s heart
Let perseverance rule the craft
Let craft become to all an art
Let love of teaching make head-start!

poem by John Celes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

0015 Aftermath of War

Within themselves, they hold
more than any man or woman should be asked to hold;
they are the unsung heroes of the peace
which clutches at the coat-tails of a war;
and we can never truly know them;
only offer them love, support, respect…

My first school had been an officers’ recuperation hospital
or final hospice for the wounded – in their body or their mind -
in the 1914-18 war; now
the dignified head doctor of few words
and his beautifully-mannered, voluptuous
ex-head-nurse wife
had made of it an ideal, loving school
for the new children of a new era after
‘the war to end all wars’…
The last resting place of warriors with screaming silent minds
who could not recuperate or
who found death so much more peaceful than their life
became, first the art room,
then the chapel: death, art, God and life
all together in one room.

My second school had as its teaching staff
several ex-officers who had chosen to shroud their memories
in teaching that new generation; but ironically,
were asked to run the cadet force which was
intended to preserve that lovely peace..
the sergeant-major who taught us PT and defensive war
had a face that was a repulsive souvenir –
like camouflage – brown, red, livid white,
almost the yellow-green of mustard gas
that had painted war upon him;
though he saved his lungs…
fine, stern, stiff-upper-lip teachers
shrouding their memories, until
some pupil tested them too far –
then their anger spilled, their canes and swagger-sticks
fiercely wielded, were memories for those (not us) who knew,
of discipline that might shoot at dawn
for the sake of lives then saved at dusk…
today, they’d be hauled into court for passing on 'abuse';
we were taught by heroes.

My third school gave me a housemaster,
another unsung, unsinging hero, a confirmed bachelor
so we thought, who likewise buried unknown memories
in devoted teaching; few clues except
the same occasional, devastating temper when aroused;
in his modest study, a few small

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Shepherd
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!