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But, unfortunately, sometimes that affirmation creates a sense that you deserve special treatment and recognition in areas where you're not so talented.

quote by Taylor Hackford
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The Believer's Principles : Chap. IV.

Faith and Sense Natural, compared and distinguished.

When Abram's body, Sarah's womb,
Were ripe for nothing but the tomb,
Exceeding old, and wholly dead,
Unlike to bear the promis'd seed:

Faith said, 'I shall an Isaac see;'
'No, no,' said Sense, 'it cannot be;'
Blind Reason, to augment the strife,
Adds, 'How can death engender life?'

My heart is like a rotten tomb,
More dead than ever Sarah's womb;
O! can the promis'd seed of grace
Spring forth from such a barren place?

Sense gazing but on flinty rocks,
My hope and expectation chokes:
But could I, skill'd in Abram's art,
O'erlook my dead and barren heart;

And build my hope on nothing less
That divine pow'r and faithfulness;
Soon would I find him raise up sons
To Abram, out of rocks and stones.

Faith acts as busy boatmen do,
Who backward look and forward row;
It looks intent to things unseen,
Thinks objects visible too mean.

Sense thinks it madness thus to steer,
And only trusts its eye and ear;
Into faith's boat dare thrust its oar,
And put it further from the shore.

Faith does alone the promise eye;
Sense won't believe unless it see;
Nor can it trust the divine guide,
Unless it have both wind and tide.

Faith thinks the promise sure and good;
Sense doth depend on likelihood;
Faith ev'n in storms believes the seers;
Sense calls all men, ev'n prophets, liars.

Faith uses means, but rests on none;
Sense sails when outward means are gone:

[...] Read more

poem by Ralph Erskine
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Man Is Especially Special!

Man is something special,
Man has something special!
Man thinks special,
And finds something special,

His smile and laugh are special
And this made him more social.

Man's heart is special,
And always feels special!
Man feels pain and happiness,
Not only of him, but also of others

Man acts and does something special!
So he learnt to fly high, live simple,
Think high
and dive deep

Man is potential,
as he is learner,
Man is potential and can be good teacher!

Man is inventor,
Man is discoverer!
Man is developer,
And man is engineer!

Man is special, as he is a dreamer,
Man is special because,
He can correct himself!

Man became more a man
As he more and more became human,
Man is special, as he is social and cultural,

Man is an artist,
as he able to express
Man is special, as he can understand,
Man can Play, plays and games,
Man is special, as man can be sportive!

Man is special, as man can discuss
Man can be channel
For flow of knowledge.

Man is special, always curious to learn,
Man is special in imaginations!

Man is special, he looked far into space,
Man is special, he looks deep into his own!

[...] Read more

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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What Have I Done To Deserve This

(tennant / lowe / willis)
Duet with the pet shop boys
Indentation as follows :
Neil tennant singing
Dusty singing
Both singing
You always wanted a lover
I only wanted a job
Ive always worked for a living
Howm I gonna get through?
Howm I gonna get through?
I come here looking for money
Got to have it
And end up living with love, oh, oh
Now you left me with nothing
Cant take it
Howm I gonna get through?
Howm I gonna get through?
I bought you drinks, I brought you flowers
I read you books and talked for hours
Every day, so many drinks
Such pretty flowers, so tell me
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I ...
Since you went away Ive been hanging around
Ive been wondering why Im feeling down
You went away, it should make me feel better
But I dont know, oh
How Im gonna get through?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
How Im gonna get through?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
You always wanted me to be something I wasnt
You always wanted too much, oh, oh
Now I can do what I want to - forever
How am I gonna get through?
How am I gonna get through?
At night, the people come and go
They talk too fast, and walk too slow
Chasing time from hour to hour
I pour the drinks and crush the flowers
What have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I ...
Since you went away Ive been hanging around
Ive been wondering why Im feeling down
You went away, it should make me feel better
But I dont know, oh
How Im gonna get through? , baby

[...] Read more

song performed by Dusty Springfield
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What Have I Done To Deserve This?

(lowe/willis/tennant)
------------------------------------
You always wanted a lover
I only wanted a job
Ive always worked for my living
How am I gonna get through?
How am I gonna get through?
I come here looking for money
(got to have it)
And end up living with love, oh, oh
Now you left me with nothing
(cant take it)
How am I gonna get through?
How am I gonna get through?
I bought you drinks, I brought you flowers
I read you books and talked for hours
Every day, so many drinks
Such pretty flowers, so tell me
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I ...
Since you went away Ive been hanging around
Ive been wondering why Im feeling down
You went away, it should make me feel better
But I dont know, oh
How Im gonna get through?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
How Im gonna get through?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
You always wanted me to be something I wasnt
You always wanted too much, oh, oh
Now I can do what I want to - forever
How am I gonna get through?
How am I gonna get through?
At night, the people come and go
They talk too fast, and walk too slow
Chasing time from hour to hour
I pour the drinks and crush the flowers
What have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
What have i, what have i, what have I ...
Since you went away Ive been hanging around
Ive been wondering why Im feeling down
You went away, it should make me feel better
But I dont know, oh
How Im gonna get through? (baby)
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
How Im gonna get through? (baby)
What have i, what have i, what have I done to deserve this?
How Im gonna get through? (baby)

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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Deserve

They got money, they got sun
They look like theyre havin fun
Dont it seem its so unfair
They know something you dont know
Theyve got a better place to go
Theyre thin and rich and they dont care
We get the dreams that we deserve
The magazines that we deserve
Page one and three that we deserve
The joy and the pain that we deserve
The sun and the rain that we deserve
The material gain that we deserve
We get what we deserve
They got tension, they got stress
They got their lives in the press
The whole world stares as they undress
Sold their friends to get ahead
They do therapy instead
Theyve got demons in their bed
We get the toys that we deserve
The quiet and the noise that we deserve
The girls and the boys that we deserve
We get what we want if we really want it
We get what we want if were really honest
You know what you are
You know what you want
You know what you deserve
We get the seas that we deserve
The flowers and the trees that we deserve
The spores on the breeze that we deserve
We get what we want if we really want it
We get what we want if were really honest
You know what you are
You know what you want
You know what you deserve
You deserve
We get what we deserve
We deserve

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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Epistle to an Orphan after William Mackworth Praed A Letter of Advice

They tell me you're promised a mother,
to cuddle, to cosset, to care.
Take care for she may try to smother,
to cover her inner despair.
The experts agree that another
could just as well clinch the affair, -
and beware that you never discover
the father who's no longer there.

(Parody William Mackworth PRAED - A Letter 31 October 1990)

A Letter to PH from a Disappointed Writer

Dear PH, I leave you this letter
after writing from ten until nine
for a site I'd delight to know better,
for a smile that my heart can't decline.
Yet one finds after wearily pacing,
for replies in the cold, for some sign,
that that heart which with hope had been racing
to darkest despair must incline.

Dear PH from twelve to eleven
each night I would knock at your door
in hope that an angel from heaven
could show me the light, - but no more
will I screed in my need if no answer
effective can echo joy's store -
I can't act as a puppet-stringed dancer,
not even for one I adore!

Dear PH the time have I waited
day in and day out by grief torn,
all write up down written, ill-fated
as my consonants vowed my vowels scorn.
The wonder my dunderhead brought you
tonight may steal thunder at morn,
but the blossoms whose beauty besought you
fade as fast as last season's drenched corn.

As on Thursday applauseless, defeated,
so on Friday all clauseless I'm spurned,
is the cycle of love thus completed,
is this all the thanks that I've earned?
It is hard for a fool to be taken -
its a sign that one's soft in the head, -
but the reason that slept must awaken,
and the spirit, restored, won't be lead!

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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War...

war creates fighting that kills everyone...
war creates hate where love should be...
war creates tears that will never dry away...
war creates pain that wont go away...
war creates sadness that wont feel better...
war creates destruction that will take too long to fix...
war blinds us of what’s right or wrong...
war steals us of the right to be happy...
war creates gaps that keep us apart...
war creates a fire you cant put out...
war drops bombs on our hopes and dreams...
war creates children without a father, no one to tuck them in at night...
war makes it hard for a parent to say “everything will be alright” when then don’t even have anyone that they can say “good night”.
war scars a child's mind with things they cant erase...
war makes a good nights sleep a living hell...
war creates nightmares that are never-ending dreams and then, just screams
war creates guilt that eats you alive inside...
war makes you see things that make you scream inside...
war creates scars when all you've seen is blood and more...
war only leaves death when every body drops to the floor...
war creates silence after it ends, so how long till it starts again?
and when all the willing that will fight, die and say their last good night
the war will end, the living will mourn, all for peace but what was it all for? For all those people who died, just so now everyone alive, can do nothing to cope but cry...

Age 14

poem by Alexander SaPonte
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It Makes More Sense

It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.

It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.

And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.

And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.

And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.

Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Something Special

SOMETHING SPECIAL
Chorus 1:
Theres something special about you
When it comes to you theres something special
Theres something special about love
I swear to God it comes from heaven up above
You make me feel like no one else before
You make me wonder how easy it is to love
You make me wonder how easy it is to love.
Theres something special about a kiss
It makes me want no other lover
Cause you make me feel like this
When youre away I want no other.
I never found what I was looking for
I got to wonder if no star would ever shine
I cant explain it but somehow deep inside
I always knew that when it did Id recognise you.
Chorus 2:
Theres something special about you
When it comes to you theres something special
Theres something special about love
I swear to God it comes from heaven up above.
Now I know what Ive been doing here
Now I know what its all about
Cause in your arms is where I wanna be
In your arms is where I always wanna be, cause.
Chorus 3:
Theres something special about you
When it comes to you theres something special
Theres something special about love
I swear to God it comes from heaven up above.
Theres something special about you
Theres something special about a kiss
Theres something special about love
I swear to God it comes from heaven up above
Theres something special about you
Theres something special about a kiss
Cause you make me feel like this
Something special Something special Special

song performed by Tina Turner
Added by Lucian Velea
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Special

I been trying for so long
To get you where I stand
Feel like I been climbing all my life
Everybody told me
I'd never ever get this far
I know I can make it if I try
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
(come to you, you too, to you, do to, be do, you)
Special things come to you
There's no sense in trying to fight it
When I want something so bad
No, it's not as easy as it seems
Simple things are the hardest
Of the things we do for love
And I won't give up cause I'm not just what it means
The special things you dream about
And the special things you're all about
Special things that somehow come to you
And it's the simple things to just believe
And the special things that you want to see
Special things somehow come to you
(come to you, doo doo doo, to you, doo doo doo)
Special things (doo, doo ahh, you doo)
Do do doo, on you, do do doo, to you
Do doo, ahh, do do doo, too
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
The special things you dream about
And the special things you're all about
Special things that somehow come to you
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
And it's the simple things to just believe
And the special things that you want to see
Special things somehow come to you

song performed by Vitamin C
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The Talented Man

Dear Alice! you'll laugh when you know it, --
Last week, at the Duchess's ball,
I danced with the clever new poet, --
You've heard of him, -- Tully St. Paul.
Miss Jonquil was perfectly frantic;
I wish you had seen Lady Anne!
It really was very romantic,
He is such a talanted man!

He came up from Brazenose College,
Just caught, as they call it, this spring;
And his head, love, is stuffed full of knowledge
Of every conceivable thing.
Of science and logic he chatters,
As fine and as fast as he can;
Though I am no judge of such matters,
I'm sure he's a talented man.

His stories and jests are delightful; --
Not stories or jests, dear, for you;
The jests are exceedingly spiteful,
The stories not always quite true.
Perhaps to be kind and veracious
May do pretty well at Lausanne;
But it never would answer, -- good gracious!
Chez nous -- in a talented man.

He sneers, -- how my Alice would scold him! --
At the bliss of a sigh or a tear;
He laughed -- only think! -- when I told him
How we cried o'er Trevelyan last year;
I vow I was quite in a passion;
I broke all the sticks of my fan;
But sentiment's quite out of fashion,
It seems, in a talented man.

Lady Bab, who is terribly moral,
Has told me that Tully is vain,
And apt -- which is silly -- to quarrel,
And fond -- which is sad -- of champagne.
I listened, and doubted, dear Alice,
For I saw, when my Lady began,
It was only the Dowager's malice; --
She does hate a talented man!

He's hideous, I own it. But fame, love,
Is all that these eyes can adore;
He's lame, -- but Lord Byron was lame, love,
And dumpy, -- but so is Tom Moore.
Then his voice, -- such a voice! my sweet creature,

[...] Read more

poem by Winthrop Mackworth Praed
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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,

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Somebody Special

(rod stewart, steve harley / chen, savigar, cregan, grainger)
How can you say lifes getting you down
Get yourself out go along with the crowd
Youre all dressed up got nowhere to go
You feel left out cause nobody showed
Listen babe
When you think youre the only one
Who cant find love in this world
Tell yourself theres another one
Whos waiting for you, somewhere
Somebody special is thinking of you
Somebody special is dreaming of you
Somebody special is longing for you
Somebody special, special
Magazine dreams are easy stuff
But heaven knows they aint good enough
Picture yourself from reel to reel
And get your hands on that driving wheel
And you know what
When its hard to satisfy
A simple simple fantasy
Somebody somewhere is on your side
Waiting for you, crying
Somebody special, is looking for you
Somebody special, is searching for you
Somebody special, is waiting for you
Somebody special, somebody special
Maybe your hearts tormenting you
Why should it have any reason to
Wipe off that negativity
Put on some positivity
And when you think youre the only one
Who cant find love in this world
Tell yourself theres another one
Whos waiting for you, somewhere
Somebody special, is dreaming of you
Somebody special, is looking for you
Somebody special, is waiting for you
Somebody special, somebody special

song performed by Rod Stewart
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There Are Those So Talented

There are those so talented
They inspire us-
So talented
We cannot understand how they manage to do what they do-
So talented
They bring us to a feeling of what a wonder and greatness the human being is -
So talented
They bring our souls to somewhere else beyond our loneliness and fears-
So talented
We wish to thank them –
So talented we feel
Humanity however only Human
Created in the Divine Image also.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Compassion and Understanding

Compassion and understanding may not remedy an inner city crisis or syndrome of poverty thus crime, divorce, single parent households and despair but it allows the church to not stereotype and judge in a false manner creating more alienation from the very ones we are trying to reach.
When our ideologies use simple maxims and platitudes that are subtly dismissive and condescending of a person a group of people we can actually insult them while we are trying to tell them about the love of Christ. The housing and ethnicity and immigrant levels are much different in a city like Lynn, Massachusetts then say Marblehead or Melrose, Massachusetts. Certain cities like Detroit, Michigan that were dependent on the automobile industry going through major lay offs will be different than other major cities not so affected; it is common sense in many ways. What is not common sense is the way the poverty and discrimination takes place and the way the politics deals with areas needing more help and better policies. Many of these people have lost their health care etc. Many who have lost their jobs by out sourcing are now almost looked at like leeches by the right wing. Many of these people are angry, frustrated and feel truly disenfranchised as they watch the rich given tax breaks and tax shelters. We need to hear them as we witness to them with love and compassion not label them or let superficial perspectives sum up their perspective and turn them away. They may have to forgive but we can't pretend there is nothing to forgive or their complaints and anger has no basis. So many of these people would never make it in a right wing church preaching the evil is over in the Islamic countries. I have been to these entrenched churches of right wing good and evil and they are so superficial. These churches will never preach the land Sabbaths and justice vision of the law of the Old Testament concerning poverty etc. They don't even support Health Care. They are loaded with nationalism and exalt capitalism and refuse to see the truth of Leviticus 25 and 26 and all the laws where a field could only be gleaned 1 time then the rest was for the poor. The laws that returned land back to the original families of the tribes of Israel every fifty years and who ever bought them had to return them to the family. No amassing of land etc. You'll never hear these sermons behind their pulpits. One recently called me a socialist for even talking about them but there in the Bible. Many of these churches say they love Israel but never tell you that the Israeli government of today has one of the best universal Health Care systems in the world. It really is a SHAME!
We actually used words like white trash when I was growing up with the innuendo that some groups of people don't want to better than themselves so this also was racist at times.
When we are closed to causes of how certain areas became poor with high crime rates and use superficial reasoning why we become less effective. When our ideology or politics refuses to understand reality and only see through our own politics etc we do not allow people to be fully understood or at times free to express themselves. When sociology and other view points of how areas and especially depressed urban areas got like they have are not looked at we cut ourselves off from understanding and compassion. The feeling of empathy has to be there but so does the intellect without barriers.
Slum landlords, changing laws that favor the wealthy and the influence of wealth on city, county and state councils all play apart in a persons story. Their anger, despair, fears and entire personality can be involved in the region they were raised in or come to and feel trapped in. The crime, the single mother raising the kids and many other factors factor in. Language and assimilating, housing in poor areas is much different than housing in neighborhoods not as affected so directly by poverty.
When plants leave a gap of money is gone in a poor area the situation can become desperate quickly. Some areas have 25% unemployment. The poverty, drugs and crime is off the chart. The single mother house holds is off the charts. If we were working with one of these women who has had children involved with crime and a daughter pregnant out of a relationship and she is bitter about the system and we try to throw at her nothing but rhetoric of individual responsibility and a right wing or left wing jargon we are wrong.
We may not be able to change the system around her but we can do our best to understand it. Right?
We are in changing times in the USA. Jobs have been out sourced for profit with out concern for sweat shops in other countries and environmental standards or USA workers. The victims are blamed. Many are called lazy and the new kind of white trash symbols and rhetoric emerges. The rich become richer and wage their class warfare. We are going to meet and work with more and more people in these kind of scenarios and we need to open our understanding and leave behind our stereotypes and perspectives that do not allow us to hear and see them and their situation for what it is. As the American dream for many diminishes the Gospel never does. We certainly do not need to preach nothing but a social Gospel or a socialist message of utopia as we near the Great Tribulation but we need to understand what so many of our brothers and sisters are going through and quit calling this understanding a false intellectualism. I see the Church of the Living God transcending politics and ideology in these last days while increasing in true brotherly love and compassion.

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Added by Poetry Lover
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You Deserve Better

Album: Eternal (2001)
Oh, oh I
(Hear me now, hear me now, hear me now)
Oh, oh I
Oh, oh I
(Hear me now, hear me now, hear me now)
Oh, oh I, yeah
He never took you to a picture show (Oh why)
He never took you to a carnival (Oh why)
You never had a picnic in the park (Oh why)
He never took you dancin' after dark
See you deserve better babe
[Chorus]
You deserve better babe
(Than the man that just don't care)
You deserve better babe
(Ain't no good if he ain't never there)
You deserve better babe
(Here me now, hear me now, hear me now)
You deserve better, better
Even better babe (Even better babe)
He never took you on a shopping spree (Oh why)
Just bought hisself another diamond ring (Oh why)
He never offered up to pay a bill (Oh why)
But 4 am, you know he wants it still
See you deserve better babe
[Chorus]
See every girl deserves a little wine and dine
Pop the Cristal cuz we gon' feel wild
So let me pour it out, I'll do it quick no doubt
Let me fill up your glass, I'm 'gona make it last
Any man that have you, he should blow your mind
Boom boom boom, your mind
So listen to me girl, don't waste no more time
Don't be wasting no time
See you deserver better babe
[Chorus]
See if it's loving you (I can do it better)
Or taking care of you (I can do it better)
Or being true to you (I can do it better)
I'll do whatever you want me to
See if it's loving you (I can do it better)
Or taking care of you (I can do it better)
Being true to you (I can do it better)
I'll do whatever you want me to (I can do it better)
You deserve better babe (Hear me now, hear me now)
You deserve better babe (Hear me now, hear me now)
You deserve better babe (Hear me now, hear me now)
You deserve better, better
Even better babe

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song performed by Isley Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love Creates

Love creates mysterious things,
Love creates beautiful expressions,
Love creates everything we need,
Love creates without a thought :)

Love creates no thinking mind,
Love expresses from hearts,
Love comes through effortlessly,
Love becomes the place we share :)

Love is our greatest gift,
Love shares our hearts as one,
Love is creation and our intentions,
Love knows our beauty without pretending :)

Love creates ABUNDANCE always,
LOVE CREATES OUR INTENTIONS,
Love creates our endless wants regardless,
Love is our self expression SHARED :)

poem by Paul Jensen Jr
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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