Dense, Shallow and Dim
They may have graduated!
And may have been declared educated...
With top grades and honorable degrees.
They are taught to shake hands,
With poise as they stand.
And give sincere eye contact...
With the best of spoken English,
That identifies an ability
They have been groomed to regurgitate...
With assumed and unresearched facts.
They are challenged to do their best...
For purposes to produce for them big fat checks!
They are encouraged to socialize...
For an increase of status,
And a marketable name recognition that's prized!
But no one wants to criticize...
Their lack of common sense!
They seem not able to find it in books.
And for them a quality of life,
Grows more dense, shallow and dim!
For them who concentrate more on looks.
These are the future leaders now groomed...
By those with set values too long observed.
Those who prefer to sit and predict doom!
And not daring to teach or stretch these minds,
Beyond the 'hand-me-down' standards
Taught and confined,
In antiquated classrooms!
Leaving them with little...
Or nothing to use to successfully compete.
As they constantly compared themselves,
To people living in hunger...
Sympathized on TV,
Or ignored as they snob them on urban streets!
They may have graduated!
And may have been declared educated...
With top grades and honorable degrees.
But they are not the ones to lead,
With a wholesomeness needed to succeed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The most worthwhile form of education is the kind that puts the educator inside you, as it were, so that the appetite for learning persists long after the external pressure for grades and degrees has vanished. Otherwise you are not educated; you are merely trained.
quote by Sydney J. Harris
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Behind Podiums
Now that scholars have declared this crisis official,
They gather to discuss agendas to address it!
The same 'minds' who stood on the sidelines,
To watch the escalation with intellectual explanations!
Accustomed to debating from behind podiums...
They have long lost touch with the people on the streets.
And yet they feel they are qualified to find solutions!
They are the ones crazed...
Since the chaos uncontrolled,
Can not be discovered on studied pages
Of outdated books!
And degrees obtained alone,
Provide no respected conclusions!
Their speech is out of reach of those lost in translations!
It seems as though common sense...
Has been bartered for influence obtained,
But gains no respect from those neglected!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
I need contact.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Verbatim
With all of their 'knowledge'
And quick access to 'facts'.
Very few express wisdom.
With a common sense attached.
They can quote verbatim,
From anything.
And make one think,
Others lives are insignificant.
They will tell anyone they have graduated,
From three colleges and have five degrees.
And how they had job offers...
To teach at prestigious academies!
And I'm listening to this and wondering,
With their skills 'why' aren't they displayed?
There are more fools with noses in books today...
And those who brag about what they've got!
Some may have an understanding of humanity!
But most who are knowledgeable...
Have to be shown how to connect obvious dots!
Observing the results,
Of what has been accomplished.
I ask myself 'why' am I so astonished?
Why are my expectations so high,
For these imbeciles!
They're not wasting away my retirement funds!
'Cause I 'Ain't got none.
'That's right I said ain't!
Now turn around and mind your business...
And finish that comic book! '
Schools fill these minds with garbage,
To fulfill senseless needs of a failed society!
And building upon ignorance...
Provides the evidence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inventive Thinking And Creative Ways
How can something so vital,
And necessary to the growth...
Of the minds to advance the education,
Needed for today's children to compete...
Be not a focus of those revealed,
To be graduating with degrees.
With a stimulation done to their imaginations.
But...
A stimulation needed,
Is said to be essential...
To their creative thinking process?
A cheating on tests,
Has yet to prove beneficial.
And today...
People find it difficult to address,
That those with performing arts as their background...
Are found flipping burgers,
Or waiting on tables.
When those discovered to be incompetent,
Irresponsible and lack accountablility...
Can not read nor write.
Or recite what has been written.
And yet...
Are hired to perform tasks for corporations,
That now confess...
They seek people who can read, write...
Do the math, entertain, produce AND direct.
But left to find this pool of talent,
Overseas.
What is missing in the minds of those,
Selected to have the qualities...
That determines they are qualified to lead?
Impressive looks?
Or is it image?
And everything created that has succeeded,
Has come from the minds of those...
Innovative enough,
To make lives more lazier today...
By their inventive thinking and creative ways.
And it is difficult to compete,
With those consistently keeping...
Their minds fixed upon staying in rhythm,
And in tune with the beat of things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where they belonged
When I was in metric
(now grade twelve)
in the agricultural science class
an English girl took a chair
next to me
who had a secret crush
without getting
any attention from me.
I just wasn’t taken with her
and she was a little brash
and they lived
on the other side
of the railway tracks
and she had a reputation
of sleeping around.
When we studied
animal copulation
she acted as if
she didn’t really understand
and asked me some questions
which made me blush
and it was clear
that she had other plans instead.
Ignoring her didn’t help much
and heart broken she went to cry
on her sister’s shoulder
who was my class teacher
and taught me English
at the time.
We did an IQ test
(the first in my years at school)
and I scored only too well
and without really knowing
my personal circumstances
the teacher told the class
that I was lazy,
but much more than that
she marked my English grades down.
I didn’t know what had got into her
and in the second quarter
like a angel from heaven
a female inspector
(specializing in English)
visited the school.
She couldn’t understand
why my marks had slipped so much
and we had a very nice chat
where she demanded
all my English books and tests.
She graded everything again,
my grades took a hike,
the teacher was called in
and almost did the same
and after that
my grades were where
they belonged.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When Fixed Mindsets Have Been Focused
Common sense is not obtained,
Through an academic process.
Not any that reflects wisdom respected,
By the many earning college degrees.
If experience could be taught,
And brought to a mind fixed on 'things'...
All of life and the quality of it,
Would have had witnessed the benefits of this.
But too busy are those in mental modes,
Driven to succeed and address their greed.
And when fixed mindsets have been focused,
On acquiring attention freed of comprehension...
There is no peace or rest to get if not earned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Common Sense Is Not Indexed
People believe intelligence comes from books they read.
As if to regurgitate another's observations,
Gives them an equal ability to 'see'.
But those who have wisdom,
Observe their environment...
And those who live in it.
The affects this creates.
And whose thoughts dominate them.
However...
Reading does achieve an expanded comprehension.
If one chooses to pursue a degree...
To produce heightened accepted limitations.
Although if one chooses to explore out of the box.
One has to do that on one's own.
Since detailed documentation for this,
Can be found not!
Common sense is not indexed.
And generally pioneered without standards to block.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The grooming is the beauty.
A well groomed ass
Is nicer than a neglected horse
A well groomed lass,
regardless of her figure,
looks lustrous even to the elite.
Give a girl a good education
In good background.
She will have been a groomed mare.
02.06.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bleeds Through: Bringer of Modern Clarity
What has the world come to today?
Gas is four dollars a gallon
Inflation is on the increase
Housing markets down
The war continues
And teachers are suffering job loss!
In grade school,
I thought my teachers were evil
They slept inside coffins in the schools basement
Only to rise when they heard my name called
It was a hell for me
When I turned sixteen
I realized how hard it was to be a teacher
With several students under them, three-hundred or more
Makes you wonder why governments are making it harder for them
The classes I suffered through in college taught me the skills I needed
I learned how to apply them later while observing
I admit, I wasn't perfect my first year of teaching
But I learned quick
Why ruin education?
Harder classes for students and less teachers to help
Sure make the classes harder, challenge the students!
Why challenge the teachers?
Twenty-five was my size of classes all my years of learning
Thirty plus is too much to handle effectively
To watch the progress of each through grades in elementary school is unrealistic
It conflicts with my psychology courses with watching only grades
A dying profession the teacher is
Optimism is my muse and savior
To teach the future leaders and core of the worlds work force
Is the only thing keeping me going
Thank you my students
'Good morning class, lets turn to page twenty-four in our math books! '
March 14,2012
poem by Ryan Collins
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If you want to succeed
If you want to succeed, go to college and get a degree.
Study hard and make good grades, that is the key.
Nothing spells success like a good education.
You can be a doctor or President of a corporation.
If you want to be a success, an education is what you'll need.
A person who is educated will be far more likely to succeed.
poem by Randy Johnson
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The future I choose
My grades are something I take pride in. Like a religion I must follow.
They have to stay as high as possible. A's are what I want like a child
asking for ice cream. My GPA is the lightbof my life, the reason for my
hard working persistance. It means everything to me. It's what will
determine my future. The future I deserve, the future I desire. As I strive
and climb the trail of life it follows me through day and night. I can't get
rid of them no matter what. I want people to know me because of them,
like a infamous football player, someone to remember. Someone to look
up to, someone to respect. My grades determine my future of how people
partake me. This is the future I choose for it's my future to partake in.
poem by Fayeleesa Shropshire
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They Themselves Deceive
When people sell with a doing,
To those who become sold...
They themselves deceive.
With a doing done they say they do,
They themselves deceive.
They themselves deceive.
Since many possess college degrees....
In the hopes to receive achievement to get,
Competence with a common sense...
But they themselves deceive...
With minds feeding on 'bling' and greed.!
People like this are not taught how to feel,
A difference between what is fake and what's real.
They themselves deceive.
With a thinking they do this to other people,
They themselves deceive.
People like this are not taught to assess,
Correct ways to live and with honesty best.
People who cheat find it weak to confess.
They themselves deceive,
Unknowing it with doing!
They themselves deceive.
They themselves deceive!
With a making of lies to tell and sell.
They themselves deceive!
And a manifesting of this done too well.
They themselves deceive!
They themselves deceive!
They themselves deceive!
With a making of lies to tell and sell.
They themselves deceive.
With a manifesting of this done too well.
They themselves deceive.
With a growing of this to be known and shown.
They themselves deceive.
With a growing of this to be known and shown.
They themselves deceive.
They themselves deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I was educated at Bradfield College and Oxford, where I graduated in 1939.
quote by Martin Ryle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Was Early I Was Told
Happy I am,
To sit among those...
Of common faces.
No status have I ever wished,
To be a full fledged aristocrat...
With a flaunting strutted.
It was early I was told,
Don't spite my nose...
For a choice made to have another.
And any path that I chose,
To walk it the best I can.
Happy I am,
To be able to reflect...
With such great memories.
And daring to be challenged,
Was a gift and not a curse given to me.
I can see why today there are so many unhappy.
Those who wished to be kings and queens...
And referred to as someone's prince or princess,
Actually believed...
Themselves royalty.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter what they had or however looked like.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter where they lived.
Or impressions they 'gave'...
About how they lived their lives.
I was not raised to believe...
I was better than anyone to enable me,
To pass that kind of judgement.
And to have that encouraged,
To be welcomed or received as a belief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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6th Grade Poem
6th grade rushes on,
The work grows harder,
And the days grow longer,
But our friends help us on the way,
As do the teachers,
Mrs. Franklin (the project queen) ,
Mrs. Gunter (the expert experimenter) ,
Mrs. Floyd (the pop quiz thriller) ,
And Mrs. Adams (the homework-giving fanatic) ,
All friends together and together as one we stand,
The homework grows,
The dances come,
Grades rise and fall,
Yet it’s fun,
Fun to be educated by inspiring people,
And become inspiring as well,
The projects grow further apart,
As do the mistakes we make,
So let’s take a moment and think...
Think back on our past and recollect
the experiences we have had and will always cherish.
poem by Kathryn Miller
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A few Words to Malala of Pakistan
The world needs more young boys and girls like you.
I pray God to protect you, under his divine shield,
And to grant you a long life. You are among a few,
Who are not afraid to tell the truth. The field
Is in dire need of serious drops of rain.
Education is the key for a better life for all God's children.
Malala, you are the angel of hope,
That our world yearns for. You are brave,
And with the help of God, the brainless slave,
Who shot you, will not succeed. The Pope,
The silent majority, and many world leaders support you.
The world needs more young and fresh minds like you.
You are an inspiration to all people with common sense.
The force of darkness and evil cannot silence
Such a wonderful inspiring angel like you.
You are right, all young people need to be educated, not a very few.
The world needs more young boys and girls like you.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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