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And the most important thing you can do is learn to edit yourself. And then go back and rewrite.

quote by Kurt Loder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Re-Write The Memories

Mike:
Man
(oh yeah)
I don't know what I'm gonna say to her Rizz ya know?
(ooh yeah)
I ain't ever been through nuttin' like this
This was my heart man
(listen)
I just gotta step up and just be a man about it
Ralph:
Flashback
Time passed
then nothin's the same
Lost our
Love in
Too many games
And girl I hope that you
Forgot about
The reasons you forgave
But the memories don't seem to go away
No
Chorus:
No I never ever meant to hurt you
No I never meant to make you cry
And I wish I could erase the heartache
And turn back the hands of time
And I'm sorry that you're still reminded
Wish I could just rewrite it
Our short stories last so long
Rewrite the memories
Ronnie:
This crazy
I wish I can do it all again
Johnny:
So much
To talk about
(thats right)
But nothing to say
(nothin to say)
Cuz words are
So empty
When you feel betrayed
(when you feel betrayed)
I cant find a way
To justify
The reason I just lied
(why)
But I did it all to spare you any pain
oh yeah
Chorus:

[...] Read more

song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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Learn

when broken
learn
when happy
learn
when bored
learn
when you float and does not know what to do
learn just the same
when filled with idealism
learn
when fed with what you cannot swallow
learn again
when the times get rough and you want to kill yourself
learn, learn, learn
you still have many things to learn
faces of life
bodies of life
learn, learn, learn everything
do not surrender

for in truth, you do not do what you only want
you will also do what you are told to do
no questions asked
or you will be left out
or you will be not a part of the picture
this life
learn, learn, learn, always learn
do not surrender
live, learn, live, learn
you will soon do all that others will tell you
learn, learn and learn again

and sooner you will have learned everything
and then do what you want to do
with firm conviction
you know now what is right
and that is what you will do,

now without even being told
you have become yourself

but still learn, learn, and learn again
because

you might be wrong,
try thinking some more, learn
relearn, learn, learn, learn, forevermore....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Learn

I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone
I recommend walking around naked in your living room
Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

I recommend biting off more then you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free
Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

You grieve you learn
You choke you learn
You laugh you learn
You choose you learn
You pray you learn
You ask you learn
You live you learn

song performed by Alanis Morissette from Jagged Little Pill
Added by Lucian Velea
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Learn

Learn, learn, learn,—
Our beautiful world is not a field for sheep;
Not just a place wherein to laugh and weep,
To eat and drink, to dance and sigh and sleep,
And then to moulder into senseless dust.

Learn, learn, learn,—
Look up and learn—you cannot look too high!
Not for the earthly wealth which brains can buy,
Not for the sake of gold and luxury—
Treasures corrupted by the moth and rust.

Learn, learn, learn,—
As one in whom the Lord has breathed His breath,
And aye redeemèd from the power of death—
Not as the dumb brute-beast that perisheth,
Not as a soulless, thoughtless, thankless clod.

Learn, learn, learn,—
With love and awe and patience—not in haste;
Drink deeply,—do not pass by with a taste;
O make your land a garden, not a waste!—
Your mind bright, to reflect the face of God.

Learn, learn, learn,—
The mystic beauty and the truth of life;
Search out the treasures whereof earth is rife,
Search on all sides, with pain and prayer and strife;
Search even into darkness. Do not fear.

Learn, learn, learn,—
With a true, steadfast heart, lay up your hoard;
God will sort out the treasures you have stored,
And set them in His bright light, afterward.
He will make all your difficulties clear.

Learn, learn, learn,—
Death is no breaking at a certain place;
We only pause there for a little space.
And then—you would not shame Him to His face?—
You, in His Image and own Likeness made!

Learn, learn, learn,—
Walk with wide-open eyes and reverent heart.
Worship as God the beautiful in art.
Though you see now but dimly, and in part,
All shall be clear in time. Be not afraid.

poem by Ada Cambridge
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I Will Over Come, With Adversity In Full Swing

I will overcome.
With adversity in full swing
I will rewrite it all.
Including who I am.
Destroying the victim
Becoming the savior.
There is just no victim here
Never again.

Listen to me a I scream.
My lungs are exploding.
No more mere whispers.
No more falling on deaf ears.
Killing every once of doubt.
Dedication with greatest sensation.
A fabulous celebration.

I will overcome.
With adversity in full swing
I will rewrite it all.
Including who I am.
Destroying the victim
Becoming the savior.
There is just no victim here
Never again.

My soul burns as never before
This is my new heaven
This is my new hell.
And all I want is more.
An undying hunger as the clock strikes eleven
This is no longer my dirty dusty old shell.

I will overcome.
With adversity in full swing
I will rewrite it all.
Including who I am.
Destroying the victim
Becoming the savior.
There is just no victim here
Never again.

I'm no longer a man in hiding
I am a man now confiding
With every secret we go deeper
The mountain is now getting steeper
So I tie my boot
And I ready my rifle to shoot

I will overcome.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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If It's Love!

It's important that unshown love,
Comes directly shown from you.
To say it...
Doesn't make,
That-love-be-true!

It's important that unshown love,
Is a thing one wants to do...
Just to prove what is said,
Is absolutely true.

A hug,
And maybe a kiss.
A touch,
That has been missed.
A show of thoughtfulness...
Can go a very long distance.

A call,
Every once in a while...
Will go further than a mile.
If love is there to be shared...
Show someone they are cared for!
And doubts will come no more.

It's important that unshown love,
Comes directly shown from you.
To say it...
Doesn't make,
That-love-be-true!

It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love.
Yes!

It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love.
Yes!

It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love!

It shoos a boo-hooin'...
Known.

It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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~ Newton ~ Einstein ~ Marx ~ Derrida ~

~ Newton ~ Einstein ~ Marx ~ Derrida ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
June 6,2010

Bunkum to burn
Edit ill learn. ~ [A]

Creation ~ Destruction
Learn ~ Relearn. ~ [B]

Unlearn
Profiles learn. ~ [C]

Deconstruction
Reconstruction
In maze of confusion. ~ [D]

Bunk pseudo learn. ~ [E]

Paradigm shift of
En-Learn
Anchor to U-Turn
Is it Perfect Learn? ~ [F]

Half learn
Quasi-Queasy learn
Obscures cognition. ~ [G]

Wises confirm
To learn
Be not stern. ~ [H]

Pundits affirm
Verity learn
Else are
Hazy learn. ~ [I]

Neurotic Newton: Quips Learn Knowledge Is Vast
Enigmatic Einstein: Puzzling What You Learn Is Relative But
Materialist Marx: Thesis Antithesis Synthesis Is But Dialectical Tact
Delver Derrida: Deconstruction Is New Fuzzy Fact. ~ [J]

Wander I what
Do I accept but? ~ [K]

Burn in Learn
It’s my culmination! ~ [L]

[...] Read more

poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Takin The Time

Youre working overtime
You know it doesnt do you no good
Youre slaving away for things that you need
Roof is falling down on round your head
Youre backed against the wall
Living your whole damn life
At someone elses beck and call
On the edge of the [night/knife]
Aaaaahhhh, come on
Come in, youre bruised and battered
You need some time to heal
Step out of the bullet train
Set yourself down, I know how you feel
Slow down your racing pulses
Overthrow all your of fears
For an hour, be a simple man
And Ill be a good set of ears
Aaaaahhhh, come on
Chorus
Takin the time to look
Takin the time to feel
[when/will] you rewrite your open book
Allow the scars to heal
Takin the time to look
Takin the time to feel
[when/will] you rewrite your open book
Allow the scars to heal
Youre movin heaven and earth
And straining every nerve
Always working double time
Burn the midnight oil down to the last [resort/resolve/result]
You cant go your [snowy/showy room] anymore
Wind your smoked glass windows down
If you cant handle opening the door
Aaaaaahhhh, come on
Chorus
Takin the time to look
Takin the time to feel
[when/will] you rewrite your open book
Allow the scars to heal
Takin the time to look
Takin the time to feel
[when/will] you rewrite your open book
Allow the scars to heal

song performed by Howard Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Man Could Get Arrested

(tennant/lowe)
--------------
Do it (do it do it do it do it do it...)
Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it...
Do it now do it now do it now do it now do it now do it now do it now
Do it (do it do it do it do it...)
Late on tuesday evening, such a commotion in the street
Someone broke a window, and someones head got beat
A wave of breaking bottles, crashed across the city street
And someone got arrested, for the breach of the peace
If you wanna walk (walk walk walk walk)
Dont talk (talk talk talk talk)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna earn (earn earn earn earn)
Learn (learn learn learn)
How to do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
And if you wanna ride (ride ride ride ride)
Dont hide (dont hide)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna stay (stay stay stay)
Dont say (say say say)
Prove it! (prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it)
How much longer are you gonna sit and talk to me?
You got so many problems and a split personality
You want to see a doctor before our love is tested
How much longer a man could get arrested?
If you wanna walk (walk walk walk walk)
Dont talk (talk talk talk talk)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna earn (earn earn earn earn)
Learn (learn learn learn learn)
How to do it! (do it do it do it do it do it)
And if you wanna ride (ride ride ride ride)
Dont hide (hide hide hide hide hide)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it)
And if you wanna stay (stay stay stay)
Dont say (say say say)
Prove it! (prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it)
Youve got your health, youve got everything, thats what my doctor said
You may not have much cash, but youve got a roof over your head
Of course I said I loved you, not just cause you insisted
How much longer a man could get arrested?
If you wanna walk (walk walk walk walk)
Dont talk (talk talk talk talk)
Do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna earn (earn earn earn earn)
Learn (learn learn learn learn)
How to do it! (do it do it do it do it do it do it)
If you wanna ride
Dont hide

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Coomera

THERE’S a pretty little story with a touch of moonlit glory
Comes from Beenleigh on the Logan, but we don’t know if it’s true;
For we scarcely dare to credit ev’rything they say who edit
Those unhappy country papers ’twixt the ocean and Barcoo.

’Twas the man who owned the wherry at the first Coomera ferry
Who was sitting cold and lonely while he counted out his tin;
When the cloudy curtain lifting let the moonlight on a drifting
Boat, that floated down the river with a pallid form therein.

And they say that Sergeant Carey (with the man who ran the ferry),
Started down to save the body from the cruel heartless sea,
And in spite of wind and water, soon they reached the barque and caught her;
And they tied the boat behind them while they wondered “who was he?”

O the moon shone bright as ever as they towed him up the river,
And they found within the pocket that was nearest to his breast—
Just an antidote for sorrow, that would tide him o’er the morrow—
(Flask of Brandy); but we’d better draw the curtain o’er the rest.

Yet, in case the point’s too finely drawn (we know we joke divinely),
And the reader fails to see it with a magnifying glass,
We will say the man who floated, while the moonlight o’er him gloated,
Was not dead and gone to heaven—he was only drunk, alas!THERE’S a pretty little story with a touch of moonlit glory
Comes from Beenleigh on the Logan, but we don’t know if it’s true;
For we scarcely dare to credit ev’rything they say who edit
Those unhappy country papers ’twixt the ocean and Barcoo.

’Twas the man who owned the wherry at the first Coomera ferry
Who was sitting cold and lonely while he counted out his tin;
When the cloudy curtain lifting let the moonlight on a drifting
Boat, that floated down the river with a pallid form therein.

And they say that Sergeant Carey (with the man who ran the ferry),
Started down to save the body from the cruel heartless sea,
And in spite of wind and water, soon they reached the barque and caught her;
And they tied the boat behind them while they wondered “who was he?”

O the moon shone bright as ever as they towed him up the river,
And they found within the pocket that was nearest to his breast—
Just an antidote for sorrow, that would tide him o’er the morrow—
(Flask of Brandy); but we’d better draw the curtain o’er the rest.

Yet, in case the point’s too finely drawn (we know we joke divinely),
And the reader fails to see it with a magnifying glass,
We will say the man who floated, while the moonlight o’er him gloated,
Was not dead and gone to heaven—he was only drunk, alas!
For we scarcely dare to credit ev’rything they say who edit
Those unhappy country papers ’twixt the ocean and Barcoo.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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To The Reader Of ‘University Notes’

Ah yes, we know what you're saying,
As your eye glances over these Notes:
'What asses are these that are braying
With flat and unmusical throats?
Who writes such unspeakable patter?
Is it lunatics, idiots—or who?'
And you think there is 'something the matter.'
Well, we think so too.

We have sat, full of sickness and sorrow,
As the hours dragged heavily on,
Till the midnight has merged into morrow,
And the darkness is going or gone.
We are Editors. Give us the credit
Of meaning to do what we could;
But, since there is nothing to edit,
It isn't much good.

Once we shared the delightful delusion
That to edit was racy and rare,
But we suffered a sad disillusion,
And we found that our castles were air;
We had decked them with carvings and gildings,
We had filled them with laughter and fun,
But all of a sudden the buildings
Came down with a run.

Not a trace was there left of the carving,
And the gilding had vanished from sight;
But the 'column' for matter was starving,
And we had not to edit—but write.
So we set to and wrote. Can you wonder,
If the writing was feeble or dead?
We had started as editors—Thunder!
We were authors instead.

We'd mistaken our calling, election,
Vocation, department, and use;
We had thought that our task was selection,
And we found that we had to produce.
So we sigh for release from our labours,
We pray for a happy despatch,
We will take our last leave of our neighbours,
And then—Colney Hatch.

We are singing this dolorous ditty
As we part at the foot of the stairs;
We cannot but think it's a pity,
But what matter? there's nobody cares.
Our candle burns low in its socket,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Tirocinium; or, a Review of Schools

It is not from his form, in which we trace
Strength join'd with beauty, dignity with grace,
That man, the master of this globe, derives
His right of empire over all that lives.
That form, indeed, the associate of a mind
Vast in its powers, ethereal in its kind,
That form, the labour of Almighty skill,
Framed for the service of a freeborn will,
Asserts precedence, and bespeaks control,
But borrows all its grandeur from the soul.
Hers is the state, the splendour, and the throne,
An intellectual kingdom, all her own.
For her the memory fills her ample page
With truths pour’d down from every distant age;
For her amasses an unbounded store,
The wisdom of great nations, now no more;
Though laden, not encumber’d with her spoil;
Laborious, yet unconscious of her toil;
When copiously supplied, then most enlarged;
Still to be fed, and not to be surcharged.
For her the Fancy, roving unconfined,
The present muse of every pensive mind,
Works magic wonders, adds a brighter hue
To Nature’s scenes than Nature ever knew.
At her command winds rise and waters roar,
Again she lays them slumbering on the shore;
With flower and fruit the wilderness supplies,
Or bids the rocks in ruder pomp arise.
For her the Judgment, umpire in the strife
That Grace and Nature have to wage through life,
Quick-sighted arbiter of good and ill,
Appointed sage preceptor to the Will,
Condemns, approves, and, with a faithful voice,
Guides the decision of a doubtful choice.
Why did the fiat of a God give birth
To yon fair Sun and his attendant Earth?
And, when descending he resigns the skies,
Why takes the gentler Moon her turn to rise,
Whom Ocean feels through all his countless waves,
And owns her power on every shore he laves?
Why do the seasons still enrich the year,
Fruitful and young as in their first career?
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze:
Summer in haste the thriving charge receives
Beneath the shade of her expanded leaves,
Till Autumn’s fiercer heats and plenteous dews
Dye them at last in all their glowing hues.—
‘Twere wild profusion all, and bootless waste,
Power misemploy’d, munificence misplaced,

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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Oh That's Right You're Just Another Girl

i like the echo of the narrow mountain:


Oh! that's right
You're just another girl
That loves to show of And to feel important at the same time

And to feel important at the same time
And to feel important at the same time
at the same time at the same time
at the same time at the same time
same time same time same time same time
And to feel important at the same time
And to feel important at the same time
at the same time at the same time
at the same time at the same time
same time same time same time same time
at the same time at the same time
at the same time at the same time
same time same time same time same time
And to feel important at the same time
And to feel important at the same time
at the same time at the same time
at the same time at the same time
same time same time same time same time
And to feel important at the same time
And to feel important at the same time
at the same time at the same time

Oh! that's right
You're just another girl
You're just another girl
You're just another girl
You're just another girl

aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo aldo

crash! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! krassssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sss!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Re-Birth

Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Sucker, nothing left to lose
Nothing left to choose
And suffer, everything you do comes back
And
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Then, I was only just a boy
Dying young and growing old
But I know what I knew was wrong
My whole family lied to me
By their rules, I cannot be
Led by the lies out of my face
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Nothing you did
You left me here for dead
Something in me
Just let me be
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
And if you think you got the answer
Well think again 'cause you know
Better than this yourself
So ask that question to yourself

[...] Read more

song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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Re-Birth

Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Corre perro come mierda
This is what you get now
You think that you can get away
You little pig
Sucker, nothing left to lose
Nothing left to choose
And suffer, everything you do comes back
And
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Then, I was only just a boy
Dying young and growing old
But I know what I knew was wrong
My whole family lied to me
By their rules, I cannot be
Led by the lies out of my face
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
Nothing you did
You left me here for dead
Something in me
Just let me be
Get what you're gonna get
When you get
What you get
To live inside of me
Learn what you're gonna learn
When you learn
How to burn
To live inside of me
And if you think you got the answer
Well think again 'cause you know
Better than this yourself
So ask that question to yourself

[...] Read more

song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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Where Have All The Flowers Gone?

Joan baez
Where have all the flowers gone? - long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone? - lone time ago
Where have all the flowers gone? - young girls picked them every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the young girls gone? - long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone? - long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone? - gone to young men every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the young men gone? - long time passing
Where have all the young men gone? - long time ago
Where have all the young men gone? - they are all in uniform
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the soldiers gone? - long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone? - long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone? - gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the graveyards gone? - long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone? - long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone? - covered with flowers every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?
Where have all the flowers gone? - hm hm hm ......
Where have all the flowers gone? - lone time ago
Where have all the flowers gone? - young girls picked them every one
When will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Essay on Criticism

Part I

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.

'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?

Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.

Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,

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poem by Alexander Pope
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Where Have All The Flowers Gone

P. seger
Where have all the flowers gone
A long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone
A long ago
Where have all the flowers gone
Girl, theyre picked up, every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn
Where have all the soldiers gone
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone
A long ago
Where have all the soldiers gone
Theyve gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn
When will they learn, ever learn
When will they learn
When will they learn, ever learn
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn
If you dont know what were talkin about
When we say this
Theres too many starvin children
If ya dont know what were killing each other
And we just aint got time for ya brother
No no hey hey ...

song performed by Earth Wind And Fire
Added by Lucian Velea
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Learn My Son

Learn my Son, my Mother said
From the things you’ve seen
To the things you have read,
For there is so much knowledge,
In our small World,
And when you learn it my son
It will become your pearl,
As you will shine it
And you will refine it
You will then display it proudly,
You will then profess it
A then you will confess it
And you will brag of it loudly.
Learn my son, my Mother spoke
As she talked from wisdom of age
As you can learn from many things,
Or by simply turning a page.
You can learn from a tree
If you would sit and watch a seed,
You can even learn from a poor man,
Just look upon his face, and you will be he.
Learn my son, my Mother cried
As tears came to her eyes
You can learn from tears and also smiles
You can even learn from a Child,
You can even learn, from me,
When I pass through my life,
You can learn from all men’s brothers
And why some only wish to die.
So take your knowledge and store it well
Protect it from all other men
For some Men need, what other men own.
And they will steal it as surely as you stand.
And when the years go by, and you're old and gray
In your mind many things will flow,
Some men have their wealth, many Men their gold
But their will be nothing more precious;
Than what you will know.....

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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