It could be true for M' lady Ernestine
Anselm the abbot avidly believed in bibliography.
He loved learning passionately and filled the abbey library
with scrolls and books of sacred lore and had scriveners by the score.
Who had the task of copying and reproducing everything.
Anselm decreed each monk must learn to read and write each in their turn
Although some monks were not impressed they had to learn at his behest.
Anselm the abbot’s word was law and soon the Abbey boasted more monks who were truly literate and able to communicate.
knowledge acquired painfully to other brothers easily.
Anselm had inadvertently created very probably
The very first religious school where love of learning was the rule
And so the abbey came to be more of a school than monastery
Anselm had realised his dream and risen high in the esteem
not only of the monarchy but of the church authority
The king decreed Anselm should be rewarded for his industry.
So he created Kings College where monks could pass on their knowledge.
And that’s how Oxford came to be in time a university
Where students came from far and wide to study by the riverside
A little bit of history not noted for its accuracy
I have no doubt you will agree it could well solve the mystery.
16-Dec-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But I believe above all that I wanted to build the palace of my memory, because my memory is my only homeland.
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John of Forde, his witness
John of Forde
Kneeling there, the candles living flame
in the darkened abbey, brother monks
still and silent at the golden altar rail,
kneeling there, clearing that inner space
into which may enter what God wills –
sometimes He takes me unawares;
murmurs like a gentle thunder
some clear message beyond words
yet winging into crystal sentences,
and that, a treasure-house of joy…
why do I call it sweet, this moment
savoured, indescribable? Because
there is no other word… why do I say,
ah, He has called me to the marriage feast..?
How else to tell you how, at that,
everything becomes delight,
everything becomes a glory?
and the glory is delight;
delight, in truth, the glory.
[adapted from Sermon 43 of Abbot John of Forde Abbey, c.1145-1214]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Secret Dreams
The abbot is a saintly man.
He praises me because I can
transcribe and illustrate the word.
So that the gospel may be heard
by other men on other lands,
He says that God has blessed my hands.
Although my frame is poor and weak
and that my talent is unique.
The holy books that I produce.
A bishop would be proud to use
From other duties I am free
save for my calligraphy.
But still pray to God each nigh
to heal my body set me right.
Because I would much rather be
outside and work laboriously.
But I must do as He commands
The abbot says he understands.
How very hard it is for me
to write of things I’ll never see.
Each man must serve as best
he can as soldier priest or husbandman.
To everyman God gave a skill
his part of Gods plan to fulfil.
We are all where we’re meant to be
and must accept this patiently.
I trust the Abbot he is wise
It’s not for us to criticise.
Where we are placed in the great scheme.
but still I am allowed to dream
and in my dreams I’m tall and strong
I need no crutch to get along.
but dreams are not reality.
I am not as I’d like to be.
So I will do the best I can.
As God expects from any man.
Although I sometimes wonder why
I must suffer from such frailty.
It is the cross I have to bear.
My faith in God I can declare
by copying his Holy Word
I wield my quill pen like a sword.
I am to frail and weak to fight
but I have strength and skill to write.
I transcribe and I illustrate
the word of God in copperplate,
in coloured inks of different hues.
My given task I can’t refuse.
The abbot says he can rely
upon my skill and my trained eye.
To train the younger monks to do
the work the way I’ve taught them to.
The time will come when I can’t see.
when old age catches up with me.
The copying will still go on
long after I am dead and gone.
Then I shall reap as I have sown.
My secret dreams to God are known.
I do not think he will condemn
my wish to be like other men.
28-Sep-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowledge Is Power
In the morning watch,
Into the midst of learning;
In the evening tide,
Out of the muse that muses;
A knowledge from a pavement made to achieve success,
Like the tune of a beautiful song.
Say it again,
Write it again,
Sing it again,
Play it again,
Come to ACTION SECONDARY TECHNICAL SCHOOL;
A learning environment with love and care.
I do remember, i do remember! !
Like the watchful minutes to the hour when,
I have this loving muse to all who want to learn.
Look!
Over there is ACTION SECONDARY TECHNICAL SCHOOL;
A place where knowledge gained is power to you!
I remember,
Like the open window;
With 'deep-green unifrom' to the vegetation.
Now i know,
'Knowledge is power'!
A peaceful atmosphere of love and care to share with you.
To learn,
To know,
Of a muse like rain drops;
With teachers dedicated to serve you all.
Go, tell it on the moutains;
A candle light from MADINA ESTATE where,
Knowledge is power.
Listen oh heavens,
Hear oh earth,
ACTION SECONDARY TECHNICAL SCHOOL is around you;
A place where knowledge is acquired through learning.
Of the 'grey-trousers' to the world so sweet,
A candle light of hope;
Of the muse that leads to love,
Like a pleasant wit at hand;
A timely success iy all that you need in life.
This is wher love is found,
This is where people learn to gain,
With hopeful years at school;
I remember,
I remember!
'Grey-trousers like grey hairs;
Where knoeledge abounds to the wise like,
The school itself.
Come to where ACTION SECONDARY TECHNICAL is,
Come to gain your knowledge as well;
Learning,
The day's fair face.
Say it again like,
ACTION SECONDARY TECHNICAL SCHOOL;
Like a muse to the world so sweet.
Write it again,
With love and care from the teachers;
Come to this atmosphere where,
Knowledge is power.
A learning place of joy,
To sing to it again and again;
With students and teachers to share their views in,
This royal place of knowledge.
This place of love and care,
This place of a muse that muses;
The day is done when,
You have gained your knowledge.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For I do not seek to understand in order to believe, but I believe in order to understand. For I believe this: unless I believe, I will not understand.
quote by Anselm of Canterbury
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Abbot Of Innisfallen
The Abbot of Innisfallen
awoke ere dawn of day;
Under the dewy green leaves
went he forth to pray.
The lake around his island
lay smooth and dark and deep,
And wrapt in a misty stillness
the mountains were all asleep.
Low kneel'd the Abbot Cormac
when the dawn was dim and gray;
The prayers of his holy office
he faithfully 'gan say.
Low kneel'd the Abbot Cormac
while the dawn was waxing red;
And for his sins' forgiveness
a solemn prayer he said:
Low kneel'd that holy Abbot
while the dawn was waxing clear;
And he pray'd with loving-kindness
for his convent-brethren dear.
Low kneel'd that blessed Abbot
while the dawn was waxing bright;
He pray'd a great prayer for Ireland,
he pray'd with all his might.
Low kneel'd that good old Father
while the sun began to dart;
He pray'd a prayer for all men,
he pray'd it from his heart.
His blissful soul was in Heaven,
tho' a breathing man was he;
He was out of time's dominion,
so far as the living may be.
The Abbot of Innisfallen
arose upon his feet;
He heard a small bird singing,
and O but it sung sweet!
It sung upon a holly-bush,
this little snow-white bird;
A song so full of gladness
he never before had heard.
It sung upon a hazel,
it sung upon a thorn;
He had never heard such music
since the hour that he was born.
It sung upon a sycamore,
it sung upon a briar;
To follow the song and hearken
this Abbot could never tire.
Till at last he well bethought him;
he might no longer stay;
So he bless'd the little white singing-bird,
and gladly went his way.
But, when he came to his Abbey,
he found a wondrous change;
He saw no friendly faces there,
for every face was strange.
The strange men spoke unto him;
and he heard from all and each
The foreign tongue of the Sassenach,
not wholesome Irish speech.
Then the oldest monk came forward,
in Irish tongue spake he:
'Thou wearest the holy Augustine's dress,
and who hath given it to thee?'
'I wear the Augustine's dress,
and Cormac is my name,
The Abbot of this good Abbey
by grace of God I am.
I went forth to pray, at the dawn of day;
and when my prayers were said,
I hearken'd awhile to a little bird,
that sung above my head.'
The monks to him made answer,
'Two hundred years have gone o'er,
Since our Abbot Cormac went through the gate,
and never was heard of more.
Matthias now is our Abbot,
and twenty have pass'd away.
The stranger is lord of Ireland;
we live in an evil day.'
'Days will come and go,' he said,
'and the world will pass away,
In Heaven a day is a thousand years,
a thousand years are a day.'
'Now give me absolution;
for my time is come,' said he.
And they gave him absolution,
as speedily as might be.
Then, close outside the window,
the sweetest song they heard
That ever yet since the world began
was utter'd by any bird.
The monks look'd out and saw the bird,
its feathers all white and clean;
And there in a moment, beside it,
another white bird was seen.
Those two they sang together,
waved their white wings, and fled;
Flew aloft, and vanish'd;
but the good old man was dead.
They buried his blessed body
where lake and green-sward meet;
A carven cross above his head,
a holly-bush at his feet;
Where spreads the beautiful water
to gay or cloudy skies,
And the purple peaks of Killarney
from ancient woods arise.
poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The School Of Life
The place were much was learned; The School Of Life.
A far different place than papers, books, and homework.
The School of Life, is a never ending, when it comes to lessons.
In The School Of Life, I have learned, that not
all, is ever learned, or comprehended.
The School Of Life, often teaches one, some bitter and
disappointing lessons.
This school, reveals much in the way of surprises. Many
that of a happy nature and some, devastating.
Somehow, The School Of Life, teaches one, to keep going.
To try...try and try again. We learn that much is gained
through tenacity. We learn it matters not how many times
one is knocked down, for it is how many times we get
up, that is the test in this school.
We learn of mans inhumanity to man. We learn that in
helping our fellow human beings, there is much reward.
We learn, that The School Of Life, has no graduating day.
We learn, that we remain, an ongoing student of education.
The School Of Life, does have its rewards; a diploma of
knowledge, understanding and wisdom.
The School Of Life, better than any college in the world.
The School of Life, where knowledge is ones ticket to
anyplace in the world.
Learn ye well, for in The School Of Life, one does not
have the opportunity to repeat a grade.
The School Of Life...
The place were much was learned; The School Of Life.
A far different place than papers, books, and homework.
The School of Life, is a never ending, when it comes to lessons.
In The School Of Life, I have learned, that not
all, is ever learned, or comprehended.
The School Of Life, often teaches one, some bitter and
disappointing lessons.
This school, reveals much in the way of surprises. Many
that of a happy nature and some, devastating.
Somehow, The School Of Life, teaches one, to keep going.
To try...try and try again. We learn that much is gained
through tenacity. We learn it matters not how many times
one is knocked down, for it is how many times we get
up, that is the test in this school.
We learn of mans inhumanity to man. We learn that in
helping our fellow human beings, there is much reward.
We learn, that The School Of Life, has no graduating day.
We learn, that we remain, an ongoing student of education.
The School Of Life, does have its rewards; a diploma of
knowledge, understanding and wisdom.
The School Of Life, better than any college in the world.
The School of Life, where knowledge is ones ticket to
anyplace in the world.
Learn ye well, for in The School Of Life, one does not
have the opportunity to repeat a grade.
Higher Education...
The place were much was learned; The School Of Life.
A far different place than papers, books, and homework.
The School of Life, is a never ending, when it comes to lessons.
In The School Of Life, I have learned, that not
all, is ever learned, or comprehended.
The School Of Life, often teaches one, some bitter and
disappointing lessons.
This school, reveals much in the way of surprises. Many
that of a happy nature and some, devastating.
Somehow, The School Of Life, teaches one, to keep going.
To try...try and try again. We learn that much is gained
through tenacity. We learn it matters not how many times
one is knocked down, for it is how many times we get
up, that is the test in this school.
We learn of mans inhumanity to man. We learn that in
helping our fellow human beings, there is much reward.
We learn, that The School Of Life, has no graduating day.
We learn, that we remain, an ongoing student of education.
The School Of Life, does have its rewards; a diploma of
knowledge, understanding and wisdom.
The School Of Life, better than any college in the world.
The School of Life, where knowledge is ones ticket to
anyplace in the world.
Learn ye well, for in The School Of Life, one does not
have the opportunity to repeat a grade.
A look at the state of education in our society today or The New 3 R's Of TodayLearning, Education, and School
Learning, Education, and School
Many years ago, education was much simpler, or so it seemed!
You had the Three R’s, a red brick school house, and it was clean!
Then we added courses like Latin and Greek- of how awful- hard to speak,
Never fear, let us add courses that will help art, shop and Home Ec- for something to eat.
That’s right, food for thought,
After all isn’t that is what school is all about.
For forty plus years we followed that rule,
We cooked up a great education until finally in the end we listened to the political correctness fools
We discarded the ingredients that made our school great only to add new programs and policies which promote racism and hate..
What happened to our vocational programs, places where we taught our students trades,
What happened to learning work as part of the dignity of man?
What happened to learning is easy to see, instead of learning correctly,
We are learning to fail because we are failing to read,
Sstudents are porous and need to be reached.
Essays, standard tests, and computer programs are great, but can they replace touch of loving parents?
Listen to me, just a cry in the dark, it’s not our schools that are falling apart.
We have lost our direction and maybe our focus.
For you see it not your test score that count one, two, and three
It simply must be the students who learn their A, B, and C’s
They apply what they learn, not with paper and pen,
but with hands, hearts, and mind and souls.
So we can all learn to live together happily once and again.
poem by Nadalia Bagratuni
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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School
Oh school, what is it?
The place that we go and acquire knowledge;
Oh school, what is it?
The place that we can easily gain dondoorlogy;
So boys and girls come out an d lets go to school.
The time is ripe to gain some knowledge,
The time is right to gain some wisdom,
The time is now to gain some understanding;
Forgetting that we learn to read and write first.
Oh school, what is it?
The knowledge gained to make us great one day!
Today, i ma what i am after schooling.
You may out me into another category but,
I am what i am today as a writer.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Domino College
By: jimmy buffett, dan fogelberg
1986
Found myself a matchbook
Beside some hotel bed
Opened it up and looked inside
And this is what it said
Chorus:
Get on back to school
Domino college, back to school
Boneyard full of knowledge
W-w-w-orking vacation in a third world nation
Back to school (going back to school, going back, back to school)
Fly down to miami
Get yourself a boat
Fill it full of suntan oil
And rent yourself a goat
Aint no registration
Aint no student loan
You may not learn to read or write
But you will surely learn to roll dem bones
Chorus:
Get on back to school
Domino college, back to school
Boneyard full of knowledge
W-w-w-orking vacation in a third world nation
Back to school (going back to school, going back, back to school)
They dont rap your knuckles
If you cut the class
They just track you through the jungle boy
Then they kick your ass
Its a different kind of domino theory
They teach you down in butler town
If you lose you buy the booze
And then the student body all falls down
Chorus:
They cant get back to school
Domino college, back to school
Fountain of knowledge
W-w-w-orking vacation in a third world nation
Back to school (going back, back to school)
Get on back
Make your parents hate you
Be a big disgrace
Act just like a domino
And fall on your face
Chorus:
You cant get back to school
Domino college, back to school
Fountain of knowledge
There aint no graduation from this kind of education
Back to school (going back, back to school)
W-w-w-orking vacation in a third world nation
Back to school (going back, back to school)
Be true to your school
-- spoken:
Oh, jan & dean be true to your school. big six, big six, whose got it? goddamn robert when you gonna play man, hey man, say, you know whose turn it is.
Coda:
Back to school (going back to school) repeat and fade
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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