Sent to Do Post Graduate Work
Those allegations are preposterous.
I am not hear to spy on them.
And I was not aware of their land being fenced.
I am a student doing research.
That is my mission.
'But why the night goggles?
And the various listening devices,
Implanted around their bordered territory...
Designating this as private property.'
I have been sent to do post graduate work,
To study the affects of fireflies...
On the sounds of those made by crickets.
Here...
Please look at and review my passport.
I am clearly innocent of these charges.
'You could have informed the owners and occupants,
Of your task...
Prior to your arrest.'
I tried to apologize.
When I attempted to remove a listening device,
From their roof.
It slipped from my hand and hit their bedroom window.
And 'this' made them suspicious!
'What school do you represent? '
I've taken a few online courses.
All I need is one more to complete my studies.
'Explain this...
Why did you do cartwheels when you saw me approaching? '
I was trying to attract a firefly I thought was losing attention.
Plus I had just finished a 'joint' that gave me an added rush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
0008 A Ghazal
I lie awake as the light night-rain falls, listening
to its irregularities, listening
as the breeze blows it now and then
against the window and the curtain flutters; listening
and wondering if I can hear
the rain listening
to itself, as if – I sometimes think I hear this –
there’s a moment just before it stops as if listening
to its own decision to stop, as if it sighs,
thinks, that’s enough; it could be listening
to the gratitude of the closed flowers, the wet earth,
the ecstasy of roots which are themselves listening
to the flowers sleeping, sighing in their sleep.
But do you wonder why I’m listening
instead of sleeping, this warm rainy night?
What’s so important that it needs my listening?
It was the rain that woke me; and as I turned, sighed,
it was the thought of you last night here next to me, listening
not to me, but to your own dreams – which I may never share;
though I may share you in my listening
to your sweet sleep’s breath, felt faintly on my shoulder;
and so, there’s a question in my listening –
did you awake at the same night rain, you so far away,
awake, sigh, and in your half-awakened listening
know that I too, thought of you?
Sighed that sweet thought, of our shared, single listening? …
As the perfume of a rose may be more evocative than the rose,
So sweeter, steadier than thought, dream, memory – the listening!
[A ghazal has a rhyme scheme aa ba ca da >]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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If a student takes the whole series of my folklore courses including the graduate seminars, he or she should learn something about fieldwork, something about bibliography, something about how to carry out library research, and something about how to publish that research.
quote by Alan Dundes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0031 Check-off
'Who was listening
when I apologised
for my life? '
I jotted that down
in a moment of regret
over the wasted things
of life, that is, my life..
and thought, that
sounds a bit like dialogue
or rather monologue to audience
stage or stalls
in Chekhov
so if no-one was listening
well, that's that
but suppose that 'everything'
was listening, and made
changes so subtle that
they'll go unnoticed except
that I find I have
nothing to apologise for
even to myself
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Task
If I say that I can then I know that I will
Or I will do the best that I can
I will try to prevail, where others had fail
At the job or task that I had began.
The work that I do or the task I accept
It will become the job that must be done
It I will try to complete, as that of any job or feat
As I will always finish what I have begun.
I will not ignore the task that I have undertaken
It will become my objective and my pride
I will do my best, just like the rest
And from that work I shall never hide.
If I say that I can then I know that I must
As I have given my word and my oath
The task will be finished, my ethics replenished
And never will I brag or boast.
When finished I will move to my very next task
With a determination and a blistered hand
My mind will be ready, my nerves will be steady
Because if I know that I will, I know that I can.
RANDY L.McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
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With a Choice to Keep the Value
Why is it important to you now,
To hear my voice?
When it was you,
Who made not listening to me...
Your choice.
Why is my comprehension mentioned,
To be a priority of your concern?
I'm well aware of those lessons I've learned.
And few of them taught I seek to be repeated.
You brought to me then an acknowledgement.
And I did not hesitate,
To connect that to my common sense.
I received it and I heeded.
Why is it important to you now,
To hear my voice.
To review conversations,
I attempted to make...
That came to rest on deaf ears?
Perhaps there is a clarity,
Not understood before...
But overnight your eyes opened.
And a clarity that could have been yours...
Has now between your ears appeared?
Go ahead and say,
What you believe today is okay.
However,
If I should abruptly walk away...
Think of it as not being disrespectful.
But a sign of the times,
When one finds peace of mind.
With a choice to keep the value of it protected.
Think of my getting away from you,
In that perspective!
A treasured gift one gets...
To never be neglected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Listening Week
This is the listening week of the year
Listening-in.
A-cock and alert is the national ear
Listening-in.
All over the land in the country towns,
From the back of the Leeuwin to Darling Downs,
Layers of 'quids' or the odd half-crowns,
They are listening-in.
On the far-flung farms they are round each set,
Listening-in.
The work and the worry they all forget,
Listening-in.
Wherever an aerial soars in space
To the Cup, or the Oaks or the Steeplechase,
To the roar of the ring and the lure of the race
They are listening-in.
In the far outback there are sun-tanned men,
Listening-in.
Where the woolshed stands by the drafting pen
Listening-in.
Old Dad's come in from the Ninety Mile;
He scored on the Cup and he wears a smile,
And he 'reckons this game is well worth while'
So he's listening in.
To the edge of the desert the sound-waves go;
And, listening-in,
Ned of the Overland, Saltbush Joe
Listening-in
Recall the giants of years long past,
And the loneliness of these spaces vast;
But they reckon that life's worth living at last
With this listening-in.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Here We Go, Again!
Speak up I can't hear you,
With those mumbles done.
Do you seek my attention,
With those mumbles done.
And why is it you whisper,
With those mumbles done.
What is it that you're hiding...
And,
Who is it from.
What is it that you're hiding...
And,
Who is it from.
Speak up I can't hear you,
With those mumbles done.
Do you seek my attention,
With those mumbles done.
And why is it you whisper,
With those mumbles done.
What is it that you're hiding...
And,
Who is it from.
What is it that you're hiding...
And,
Who is it from.
You are getting on my nerves,
With those mumbles done.
Do you expect to be heard,
With those mumbles done.
Are you on the run,
With those mumbles done.
And if you're on the run,
Who is it from?
That marbled gobble sounds like garble.
With no listening done.
That marbled gobble sounds like garble.
With no listening done.
That marbled gobble sounds like garble.
With no listening done.
And I wont be the one to strain,
For what comes.
Here we go,
Again!
Speak up.
Speak out.
Here we go,
Again!
Speak up.
Speak out.
Here we go,
Again!
Speak up.
Speak out.
Here we go,
Again...
Speak up I can't hear you,
With those mumbles done.
Do you seek my attention,
With those mumbles done.
And why is it you whisper,
With those mumbles done.
What is it that you're hiding...
And,
Who is it from.
That marbled gobble sounds like garble.
With no listening done.
That marbled gobble sounds like garble.
With no listening done.
That marbled gobble sounds like garble.
With no listening done.
And I wont be the one to strain,
For what comes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Listening
Listening.
And being there for someone loved...
To do just that!
With a mind willing,
To be receptive and clear...
Of opinions sitting,
On the tip of one's tongue.
With a giving of attention,
And staying mum.
Listening to someone.
Listening is not easily done.
For those who have experienced...
A life in which peace of mind has come.
When a listening ear,
Had not been volunteered by no one.
And some who know this...
Do their best to sit with patience.
Listening with no other reason...
But to be there as is wished.
For someone who has selected you,
Just for this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Black Bruises II
I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?
poem by Norman Santos
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Shhh
(uh)
(mmm)
(mmm, oh)
Shhh - break it down (oh)
I dont want nobody else 2 hear the sounds
This love is a private affair
Interrupt the flow, they better not dare
Shhh - we gotta break it on down
In the daytime, ha, I think not!
Id rather do u after school like some homework
Ah... am I gettin u hot? (hot)
In my bedroom (no!) cuz then wed have 2 stop (please dont stop)
Id rather wait til everyones fast asleep
Then do it in the kitchen on the table top, oh!
We gotta break it on down (down, down, down)
Can u hear me girl?
Shhh - break it down
I dont want nobody else 2 hear the sounds
This love is a private affair
Interrupt the flow, they better not dare
Shhh (oh yeah) - we gotta break it on down
Can u hear me, babe?
Shhh - huh, we got 2 break it on down
Candle light - no (no), I dont think so!
The crackle of the flame will just spoil my flow
Besides, I can be your fire baby, yeah
Drippin all over u like a ball of wax, relax and let go!
Break it down
I dont want nobody else 2 hear the sounds
This love is a private affair
Interrupt the flow (they better not dare)
Shhh - yeah, we gotta break it on down (down, down, down)
Can we groove 2night?
Oh yeah, ah - we gotta break it on down (down, down, down)
Oh
Yeah
Thats it, baby
Ah, u say u wanna slow jam? (yes)
Then listen up girl, yeah
I wanna whisper music in your ear
Thatll rock your, rock your, rock your world, oh
Whats my name, baby? (I love u) yeah
2night Ill teach u baby, teach u baby, teach u baby
2 scream it and scream it and scream it and scream it! ow!
Break it down
I dont want nobody else 2 hear the sounds
This love (this love is a private affair)
Just me and u, baby (interrupt the flow, they better not dare)
Ooh, yeah yeah yeah (we gotta break it on down, down, down)
Are u listening, baby?
Ah hear me baby, hear me baby
(we gotta break it on down, down, down)
U makin me wanna ... oh!
Uh (uh)
There it is
Uh (uh)
Oh yeah
All night long
Are u diggin this, baby? (oh)
Break it down, break it down
(shhh - break it down) {x3}
Down, down, down, down {x4}
Sex is not all I think about
Its just all I think about u
Oh yeah
Sex is not all I think about
Its just all I think about ... u
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Balanced Life
Hello party person.
How’s your love life?
Still on honeymoon?
How goes de studies?
How goes de assessments?
How goes de courses?
Hello firefly.
You light in
and out a lot.
A balanced life.
Time for work.
Time for studies.
Time for leisure.
A time
and a season
for all things.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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School School School
Every school has a name but
school is so lame
school what can I say
school im there like every day
school is like a prison, you can nver escape
school is like having a detencion every day
school you tell us to do schoolwork and at home we have to do homework: (
school, school, school
work, work, work
study, study, study
test, test, test it all goes trough my mind
what else should i do
might the principle think; .
My school
My rules
My way or the hard way
This is what i think
Im
Victor Arambula
poem by Somebody U Will Never Know
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Cheating Online
My husband joined with Second Life,
An online interactive game.
I became the suspicious wife
When his being online became
More and more secretively sly.
So I joined up and found out how
To hire a game made private eye.
The Second Life rules did allow
The tracking of my husband's play,
Most of which was playing around
In computerized carnal way.
Such technology does astound!
It's infidelity of course.
I'm gonna get a real divorce.
Given the devaluation of literature and of the study of foreign languages per se in the United States, as well as the preponderance of theory over text in graduate literature studies, creative writing programs keep literature courses populated.
quote by Marilyn Hacker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Are You So Sensitive?
I did not say one thing about your diet.
Do not try to throw that guilt trip on me!
What I did say was 'perhaps'
The grass is not getting enough Sun.
And when we pass the flowers...
Had you noticed the petals folding inward,
As if night has fallen!
Why are you so sensitive?
All I asked you was 'if' you had heard,
The sounds being made by crickets?
I might be mistaken.
But you have to admit,
You do see the fireflies?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In A Small Moment
(carly simon)
In a small moment
She accepted credit for something she did not do
She said shed done the water color in her bedroom
But it was done by a friend from school
Just a little lie
No one would discover
At least not very soon
In a small moment
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it just slipped on by
In a small moment
In a restaurant where she worked the late night shift
She short changed a sailor and made five
You could never really call it a theft
Just a little lie
Swept up in her apron and kept as a well deserved gift
In a small moment
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it just slipped on by
In a small moment
She cheated on her lover and placed it in the back of her mind
As long as nobody knew the truth about her
It could never really be unkind
Just a little lie
That slipped beside her as she tossed and turned in her alibis
In a small moment
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it just slipped on by
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it jsut slipped on by
Slipped on by
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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S.O.S.
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
I'm shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'll be standing here and I'm miles away
Making signals hoping they'd save me
I lock myself inside these walls
'Cause out there I'm always wrong
I don't think I'm gonna make it
So while I'm sitting here
On the eve of my death bed
I'll write this letter and hope it saves me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm stuck in my own head and I'm oceans away
Would anybody notice if I chose to stay?
I'll send and SOS tonight
Wonder if I will survive
How in the hell did I get so far away this time
So now I'm sitting here
The time of my departure's near
I say a prayer
Please someone save me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm lost here
I can't make it on my own
I don't wanna die alone
I'm so scared
Drowning now
Reaching out
Holding on to everything I love
Crying out
Dying now
Need some help
Is anybody listening?
Can you hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening?
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take It Away
Take it away
Wanna hear you play til the lights go down
Take it away
Dont you wanna stay til theres no one else around
Lonely driver
Out on the road
With a hundred miles to go
Sole survivor
Carrying the load
Switches on his radio
Take it away
Wanna hear you play til the lights go down (down, down)
Take it away
Dont you wanna stay til theres no one else around
Take it away
Wanna hear you play til the lights go down
Take it away
Dont you wanna stay til theres no one else around
In the audience
Watching the show
With a paper in his hand (in his hand, in his hand)
Some important
Impresario
Has a message for the band
Take it away
Wanna hear you play til the lights go down (down, down)
Take it away
Dont you wanna stay til theres no one else around
Never that his
Baby listening to your
Never that his
Baby listening to your
Never that his
Baby listening to your
Take it away
Take it away
After hours
Late in the bar
By a darkened corner seat
Faded flowers
Wade in the jar
til the evening is complete
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Did We Get Here?
full moon, low hung...
bare branches brush
darkness wet skies.
listening, listening,
to the tin roof
rusting with the dew,
to the bricks groaning
and chipping with time,
to the brown grasses weeping
for a new start...
old cars that wont crank,
window screens duct taped.
the lie on the stove
smells like long ago supper,
the mail on the table unopened.
and the light in the bedroom
flickers, almost done.
who are we?
and how did we get here?
somewhere far off a baby cries,
a dog barks, a screen door slams.
here there is nothing left,
but the smell of old shoes,
and cardboard boxes no one dares
to look into!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You Make My Heart Happy
When you walk through the door
Every morning at eight
With a smile on your face,
You can make the day great.
You make my heart happy.
When I have your attention
And you do what I ask;
When you try your hardest
At every task.
You make my heart happy.
Every school day
You answer my prayer
When you help each other
And show that you care.
You make my heart happy.
When I have a conference
With your mom and dad;
Tell them how hard you've worked
And what fun we've had,
You make my heart happy.
Our few years together
Are finally through.
I gave you my best
And you gave me yours, too.
You made my heart happy.
On an evening in June,
A most important date;
While I watch with pride
As you graduate,
You make my heart happy.
When I meet you downtown
With your kids and your wife,
And you tell me how much
I've meant to your life,
YOU MAKE MY HEART HAPPY!
(Dedicated to Mrs. Cindy Womer, Life Skills Class,
Danville Middle School; Danville, PA)
poem by Rich Reitz
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