Your outlook upon life, your estimate of yourself, your estimate of your value are largely colored by your environment. Your whole career will be modified, shaped, molded by your surroundings, by the character of the people with whom you come in contact every day.
quote by Orison Swett Marden
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Related quotes
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:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people, I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion, do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Only, only
Wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake hands, shake hands.
Any social occasion, hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Only, only
Wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, the tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back, but nothing seems to please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
Tac-tacatac, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
Tac-tacatac, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Ah, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
[...] Read more
song performed by Heather Nova
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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
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Points of contact
We travel and keep moving
Each time you move ahead
You should have stepped at a point
Ensuring the grip of the point
You might have pushed ahead
And you make your next step
After reaching the next point of contact
You push ahead
Exerting the force of the push
On the point of contact
The more frequently you
Meet the points of contact
The faster is your movement and going ahead
The point of contact acts as fulcrum
That ensures your push becomes a movement
Thus, you will agree,
Points of contact
Help you move
Regardless of the direction
And regardless of the destination
Quality of your movement
Depends a lot on the
Quality of the points of contact
A slippery, less firm point of contact
Makes you slip
And end up with failure
Your journey terminating not
Helping you reach the destination
Despite all your skills
And efforts towards pushing ahead
You understand that
Points of contact need your attention
They need nourishment
Maintenance and care
The Point of contact need not be
Just a material or stone
Or a step in a ladder or staircase
It can also be a person
Who helped you in your movement
Some time, some where and some how
It is also a requirement
That you be in touch with them
Demonstrating your care and love for them
[...] Read more
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Bishop Blougram's Apology
No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.
So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
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Three Women
My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.
Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.
Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.
Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.
1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.
Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,
[...] Read more
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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My Father Is A Retired Magician
(for ifa, p.t., & bisa)
my father is a retired magician
which accounts for my irregular behavior
everythin comes outta magic hats
or bottles wit no bottoms & parakeets
are as easy to get as a couple a rabbits
or 3 fifty cent pieces/ 1958
my daddy retired from magic & took
up another trade cuz this friend of mine
from the 3rd grade asked to be made white
on the spot
what cd any self-respectin colored american magician
do wit such a outlandish request/ cept
put all them razzamatazz hocus pocus zippity-do-dah
thingamajigs away cuz
colored chirren believin in magic
waz becomin politically dangerous for the race
& waznt nobody gonna be made white
on the spot just
from a clap of my daddy's hands
& the reason i'm so peculiar's
cuz i been studyin up on my daddy's technique
& everythin i do is magic these days
& it's very colored
very now you see it/ now you
dont mess wit me
i come from a family of retired
sorcerers/ active houngans & pennyante fortune tellers
wit 41 million spirits critturs & celestial bodies
on our side
i'll listen to yr problems
help wit yr career yr lover yr wanderin spouse
make yr grandma's stay in heaven more gratifyin
ease yr mother thru menopause & show yr son
how to clean his room
YES YES YES 3 wishes is all you get
scarlet ribbons for yr hair
benwa balls via hong kong
a miniature of machu picchu
all things are possible
but aint no colored magician in her right mind
gonna make you white
i mean
this is blk magic
[...] Read more
poem by Ntozake Shange
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Wind-Clouds And Star-Drifts
FROM THE YOUNG ASTRONOMER'S POEM
I.
AMBITION
ANOTHER clouded night; the stars are hid,
The orb that waits my search is hid with them.
Patience! Why grudge an hour, a month, a year,
To plant my ladder and to gain the round
That leads my footsteps to the heaven of fame,
Where waits the wreath my sleepless midnights won?
Not the stained laurel such as heroes wear
That withers when some stronger conqueror's heel
Treads down their shrivelling trophies in the dust;
But the fair garland whose undying green
Not time can change, nor wrath of gods or men!
With quickened heart-beats I shall hear tongues
That speak my praise; but better far the sense
That in the unshaped ages, buried deep
In the dark mines of unaccomplished time
Yet to be stamped with morning's royal die
And coined in golden days,--in those dim years
I shall be reckoned with the undying dead,
My name emblazoned on the fiery arch,
Unfading till the stars themselves shall fade.
Then, as they call the roll of shining worlds,
Sages of race unborn in accents new
Shall count me with the Olympian ones of old,
Whose glories kindle through the midnight sky
Here glows the God of Battles; this recalls
The Lord of Ocean, and yon far-off sphere
The Sire of Him who gave his ancient name
To the dim planet with the wondrous rings;
Here flames the Queen of Beauty's silver lamp,
And there the moon-girt orb of mighty Jove;
But this, unseen through all earth's ions past,
A youth who watched beneath the western star
Sought in the darkness, found, and shewed to men;
Linked with his name thenceforth and evermore
So shall that name be syllabled anew
In all the tongues of all the tribes of men:
I that have been through immemorial years
Dust in the dust of my forgotten time
Shall live in accents shaped of blood-warm breath,
Yea, rise in mortal semblance, newly born
In shining stone, in undecaying bronze,
And stand on high, and look serenely down
On the new race that calls the earth its own.
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poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people - I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion - do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Any social occasion, its hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back - but nothing seems
To please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
song performed by Peter Gabriel
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks
1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,
That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass
Under the old trees with rosy fruit.
In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a
basket,
The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.
Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.
Fayne snatched for it and missed;
Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small
Finely cut features in a dance of delight;
Fayne with one sweep flung at his face
All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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I Don't Have The Map
When it happens
Youll feel like an islander
Youll see ships and theyll be reminders
That youre on an island
Im on an island
The chances are theres a reason weve been left here
But Im not disappointed
The chances are theres a reason weve been left
The chances are, the chances are
You cant contact, you cant contact
You cant cope without the contact
As it happens
Theres a city in sight
Youre getting confused by local lamplight
By local lamplight
Dont buy local lamplights
The chances are theres a reason weve been left here
But Im not disappointed
The chances are theres a reason weve been left here
The chances are, the chances are
You cant contact, you cant contact
You cant cope without the contact
But what a situation to be in
You and me are keeping in time with my ideas
Keeping in time with my ideas
You cant stop keeping in time
You cant contact, you cant contact
You cant cope without the contact
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Molded Goals
Give me my right to have a life of variety.
With a choice I decide in my mind,
Who and what I will be as I define.
People live to breathe in sequels.
And leeching to squeeze,
From an opportunistic vision.
But too afraid to plant their own footsteps,
If others are not pleased.
People are not free,
Or encouraged to be themselves.
And directed from their births,
To seek acceptance...
From others who have molded goals,
And know what is perfectness.
Give me my right to have a life of variety.
With a choice I decide in my mind,
Who and what I will be as I define.
People are not free,
Or encouraged to be themselves.
And directed from their births,
To seek acceptance...
From others who have molded goals,
And know what is perfectness.
Molded goals grow old to corrode.
And find a staleness solid...
Rusted with rot and dropped forgotten.
People live and breathe in sequels.
Too afraid to make fresh steps.
People live to please other people,
And get upset when nothing is correct!
Molded goals.
Molded goals.
Rusted with rot,
And soon dropped forgotten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Through the eyes of a Field Coronet (Epic)
Introduction
In the kaki coloured tent in Umbilo he writes
his life’s story while women, children and babies are dying,
slowly but surely are obliterated, he see how his nation is suffering
while the events are notched into his mind.
Lying even heavier on him is the treason
of some other Afrikaners who for own gain
have delivered him, to imprisonment in this place of hatred
and thoughts go through him to write a book.
Prologue
The Afrikaner nation sprouted
from Dutchmen,
who fought decades without defeat
against the super power Spain
mixed with French Huguenots
who left their homes and belongings,
with the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Associate this then with the fact
that these people fought formidable
for seven generations
against every onslaught that they got
from savages en wild animals
becoming marksmen, riding
and taming wild horses
with one bullet per day
to hunt a wild antelope,
who migrated right across the country
over hills in mass protest
and then you have
the most formidable adversary
and then let them fight
in a natural wilderness
where the hunter,
the sniper and horseman excels
and any enemy is at a lost.
Let them then also be patriotic
into their souls,
believe in and read
out of the word of God
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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Na Tian Piet's Sha'er Of The Late Sultan Abu Bakar Of Johor
In the name of God, let his word begin:
Praise be to God, let praises clear ring;
May our Lord, Jesus Christ's[8] blessings
Guide my pen through these poetizings!
This sha'er is an entirely new composition
Composed by myself, no fear of imitation.
It's Allah's name, I will keep calling out
While creating this poem to avoid confusion.
This story I'm relating at the present moment
I copy not, nor is it by other hands wrought;
Nothing whatsoever is here laid out
That hereunder is not clearly put forth.
Not that I am able to create with much ease,
To all that's to come I'm yet not accustomed;
Why, this sha'er at this time is being composed
Only to console my heart which is heavily laden.
I'm a peranakan[9], of Chinese origin,
Hardly perfect in character and mind;
I find much that I can not comprehend,
I'm not a man given to much wisdom.
Na Tian Piet[10] is what I go by name
I have in the past composed stories and poems;
Even when explained to - most stupid I remain
The more I keep talking the less I understand.
I was born in times gone by
In the country known as Bencoolen[11];
Indeed, I am more than stupid:
Ashamed am I composing this lay.
Twenty-four years have gone by
Since I moved to the island of Singapore;
My wife and children accompanied me
To Singapore, a most lovely country.
I stayed in Riau[12] for some time
Together with my wife and children;
Two full years in Riau territory,
Back to Singapore my legs carried me.
At the time when Acheh[13] was waging war
I went there with goods to trade,
I managed to sell them at exhorbitant prices:
Great indeed were the profits I made.
[...] Read more
poem by T. Wignesan
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.
Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,
[...] Read more
poem by John Dryden
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Light Burst, Confusion, First Thirst, Then Fusion, Flight
As nature hates a vacuum NOTHING can
be but a figment fragment second-guessed.
Reality and dreams combine, their quest
is thus to banish NOTHING then to span
creation’s vastness, scanning big bang's van,
from tao trip evolution's also-ran
to space displacement through one thousandth dan,
to Time condensing on initial jest
when request and inquest converge in gest.
Atoms void avoid, spin tails till trail's lost, rest
contest, contestants, distance, über plan,
arresting surface difference with zest.
From mess congestive to suggestive test
of chaos, universal fractal fest
patterns pitter patter, matter must
invent itself from, to, through, into dust.
./.
Before big bang rang change strange, range remaining still in flux
electrons once were strangers all to call of ‘fiat lux’.
Along came fission’s fusion, confusion first, then light
bequeathing mission’s clues upon delusion and delight.
This led to fate's conclusion, caused atoms to unite
the which, in turn, illusion lent woe_man - sum mum quite!
From chaos sprung our meeting, a marriage of convenience,
the which our rhymes are sweeting so judge linked lines with lenience.
When I was oxygenic and you two hydro genes
as dry as dust hygenic remained both Ways and Means,
as lonely and divided you me me…anderings,
unknown were helix he licks, and protoplasmic strings.
Unknown were then amoebae, or cells life's spells now bring,
like wise unfixed stoned genes' screen sticks, where species do their thing,
Thus life reached out, leached in for years before the Christian Right
decided seven days were all transforming night to right.
The Kansas Education Board's creation tale lies scored,
for aeons spun, together run, provided bread and board
for creatures wild - those really mild encountered some predators
before blind humankind assigned their carbon half-life daters.
Without our tryst few formal life forms on earth could ever
pursue existence ‘normal’, act out silly or feel clever.
When I was young and ignorant unknown to hair twins hydro
few days were spent in versing chant, reversing carbohydro
none fought for life on food chain link, existence ungalactic
they were a simple pair I think, electrons unclimactic.
But now beneath, above, beyond it is our joy to bond -
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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