To Correct An Error
an error is an error
and errors exist for the main reason that
they are meant to be corrected
it takes the eyes of the loving person
to correct the errors
of his beloved
gently and
carefully away from the mob
and the crowd that love
the mockery
of errors corrected in the middle
of the public halls
inside a closed door
i hold your hand
caress your face
and your hair
and kiss you and then tell you
you taste like a rotten apple.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Printer's Error
Fellow compositors
and pressworkers!
I, Chief Printer
Frank Steinman,
having worked fifty-
seven years at my trade,
and served five years
as president
of the Holliston
Printer's Council,
being of sound mind
though near death,
leave this testimonial
concerning the nature
of printers' errors.
First: I hold that all books
and all printed
matter have
errors, obvious or no,
and that these are their
most significant moments,
not to be tampered with
by the vanity and folly
of ignorant, academic
textual editors.
Second: I hold that there are
three types of errors, in ascending
order of importance:
One: chance errors
of the printer's trembling hand
not to be corrected incautiously
by foolish professors
and other such rabble
because trembling is part
of divine creation itself.
Two: silent, cool sabotage
by the printer,
the manual laborer
whose protests
have at times taken this
historical form,
covert interferences
not to be corrected
censoriously by the hand
of the second and far
more ignorant saboteur,
the textual editor.
Three: errors
from the touch of God,
divine and often
obscure corrections
of whole books by
nearly unnoticed changes
of single letters
sometimes meaningful but
about which the less said
by preemptive commentary
the better.
Third: I hold that all three
sorts of error,
errors by chance,
errors by workers' protest,
and errors by
God's touch,
are in practice the
same and indistinguishable.
Therefore I,
Frank Steinman,
typographer
for thirty-seven years,
and cooperative Master
of the Holliston Guild
eight years,
being of sound mind and body
though near death
urge the abolition
of all editorial work
whatsoever
and manumission
from all textual editing
to leave what was
as it was, and
as it became,
except insofar as editing
is itself an error, and
therefore also divine.
poem by Aaron Fogel
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Errors
there will be always errors
my errors
not yours, even your errors
shall be mine
for there will always be errors
that is too normal
for our lifetime
too short to be erroneous
but always real
too real to be touched
too exciting
to be always noticed
and too numb to be affected
by their
hypocrisies
you too? oh my, why?
don't you like to be the most normal
bird with only two wings
to fly?
how can you use a third wing?
to see with the third eye
aren't you funny to see
on this third
excess?
come, let us feast on these errors
drink these glasses of errors
be filled and vomit with errors
defecate these errors
and be empty again
after having learned so much
to become the
newest genius in this town
of errors.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Errors Are My Sin
ERRORS ARE MY SIN
Errrors are my sin
Carelessness my vice-
I have written too many un-blotted lines
I will never be able to reread
And correct them all again.
Can I now in my old age
At least do this,
Make certain
That any new line
Is without error?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Rectification
the randomness of them all
entering your mind too preoccupied
with what must be
and what ougth to be,
the mind blunders
with timorous thunders,
and what becomes so evident
is this error protruding like
a tail from a body
like rabbit ears from your face
you feel like a fraction reduced
to its lowest terms
but you cannot be subdued by the
urge of sweet dishonesty
the self pretending to be right always?
to err is to be human
and to be most human is to accept
the errors of all errors,
yourself....
you take the correct decision
you expose your tongue and show
them your rabbit ears that
you have such a funny long tail
you laugh at yourself and you laugh
with all of them
the room is filled with laughter
there is no chatter
and they all clap at you
for on this day
you have become a great man.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Are They Mistakes?
Mistakes are not mistakes till noticed.
Errors are not errors till corrected.
Wrongs are not wrongs till realized.
Sins are not sins till repented.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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While I have corrected agreed factual errors, I have not been inhibited from writing what I felt to be the truth about The Prince of Wales.
quote by Jonathan Dimbleby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Do Not Correct Mistakes … I Play
it so happens that
i post a poem with some errors
not of feeling but of
grammatical lapses and she is afraid
that people may begin to belittle me for such
unforgivable simplicities of
mistakes unaccounted
but i tell her even beforehand that i am
always unapologetic
even unkind
or indifferent
i am a person who does not go back
to review
and correct errors
i laugh at them knowing that they have deceived
me into such a corruption
somehow life is like that
we rush to get out of a door only
to find the wrong key in our hand
and we are having a hard time
opening that
which we closed
and we cannot enter anymore
except when when we break the door &
open it forcefully
with a hammer
the noise is painful
having to break in
your own room with locks forced open
like an invasion of your own
body destroying it
breaking your heart or
bones
tearing your skins apart
or slicing some flesh
because you made a mistake
i like lapses,
errors are not supposed to be
minded at
life is like that
no crying for what is there already
sometimes
i don't even solve puzzles
i let them be their own problems
as i sit on the sands
watching the sun
set
feeling the cool winds when the
world starts to lose
its light
and surrender all its arms
to the power of
darkness
and when it gets too dark
i begin to play again
like a child left by mother
abandoned
by father
under the moon under the rain
and all alone.
i like it when i listen
to the bliss of my own wild
laughter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Intended With Love
I've made so many errors and typos in my work,
To leave uncorrected.
They've become looked upon,
As clarifying those suspicious about this...
That I am not perfect.
And...
If I should correct those errors and typos,
The attention intended to give the message...
A comprehensive clarity,
Gives one then an opportunity...
To see something more between the lines,
Not there as had been intended.
This writing business,
Becomes more theraputic than one can believe.
Self analysis AND with feedback?
It just seems convenient to leave typos where they are,
And errors in language useage alone.
I find this procedure more effective.
It gives the reader a chance to bestow empathy.
Believing what is observed is unintended.
However...
The writer knows typos like fingers and toes.
If there are many as it is to be noticed.
And,
It is...
Intended,
With love.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If the individual, or heretic, gets hold of some essential truth, or sees some error in the system being practiced, he commits so many marginal errors himself that he is worn out before he can establish his point.
quote by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The classics of Marxism, while fully appreciating the significance of the Darwinian theory, pointed out the errors of which Darwin was guilty. Darwin's theory, though unquestionably materialist in its main features, is not free from some serious errors.
quote by Trofim Lysenko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In his errors a man is true to type. Observe the errors and you will know the man.
If error is corrected whenever it is recognized as such, the path of error is the path of truth.
quote by Hans Reichenbach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Attributes of Planets in Our Solar System
Do not aspire to achieve heights of greatness,
And be prone to make typographical errors...
Of words used,
Without knowing definitions.
Or content of a purpose meant,
That may not produce the expected outcome...
Desired.
For example...
A name affixed to the planet Uranus,
May imply for some...
That you refer to manure.
And the use of it...
To encourage organic growth.
Some are not so sure,
If the usage of manure for this endures.
Especially,
When you are actually telling them where on a map to lick,
To help them to remember...
The attributes of planets in our solar system.
Learning is done by the application of tricks,
Sometimes.
When some minds decline behind the times.
Although there may be a few,
Who would rather kiss these aspirations.
And with them,
When they do...
The purpose meant and intent has more meaning.
'THIS has 'nothing' to do with typographical errors.'
I know.
As you can see...
I've done my best to correct any,
One may be inclined to find.
'And...
What about the attributes of planets in our solar system? '
That's not my interest.
Although Uranus is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Error
this is not an ordinary error that one corrects
like a grammatical mistake
that with a slight stroke of the pen
everything becomes correct
and acceptable
this is repeated error
one knows it is an error but one does not correct it
it plunges and pushes and pulls
back to the same error again
something delicious
so sweet to the tongue
the mouth salivates
and the heart pounces upon
a thousand breathings
this is the error that one always looks forward to see
one evening and another
in a room the two of you sharing it
you kneel and pray and soar to heights
without so many words wasted
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Darwin himself, in his day, was unable to fight free of the theoretical errors of which he was guilty. It was the classics of Marxism that revealed those errors and pointed them out.
quote by Trofim Lysenko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Each generation writes off earlier errors as the result of bad thinking, of less able minds--and then confidently embarks on making fresh errors of its own.
Michael Crichton in Prey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LVI: As to the Roman
As to the Roman that would free his land,
His error was his honor and renown
And more the fame of his mistaking hand
Than if he had the tyrant overthrown,
So, Delia, hath mine error made me known,
And deceiv'd attempt deserv'd more fame
Than if I had the victory mine own,
And thy hard heart had yielded up the same.
And so, likewise, renowned is thy blame,
Thy cruelty, thy glory; O strange case,
That errors should be grac'd that merit shame
And sin of frowns bring honor to thy face.
Yet happy, Delia, that thou wast unkind,
But happier yet, if thou wouldst change thy mind.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Did You Understand It?
You've written something with several typographical errors.
And I question the correctness of your language usage.
Plus it had been written in mixed tenses.
I read it more than once.
And after the third reading it finally dawned on me,
You may have done this intentionally.
'Did you understand it?
What it was I tried to do? '
I'm not sure.
'How would you critique it? '
I don't know if I can.
'And you read it three times? '
At least.
'Why should I bother to correct it?
If 'you' read something I wrote...
THREE times?
And you have never expressed any interest before?
In anything I've ever done?
Why should I correct it?
This is the first time you and I have communicated,
In years.
Who knew...
All it took was a few errors,
To get you to give me what I have been wanting.
Here...
Read this! '
Your first and third lines rhyme.
But the rest of it...
Well,
I think this is a bunch of garbage.
'Thank you.
And all this time,
You had me believing...
You didn't care.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Typographical Errors
Typographical errors,
I try to avoid.
Some I leave,
To create their own noise.
And something suspected,
To be out of place...
Usually gets more attention,
Than something correct...
One wishes to say.
And there are times it takes me,
All day to imperfect what is correct.
Especially if I want to emphasize,
My own perfection has defects.
I know! I know, that's hard to believe...
That I would take 'all' day to imperfect what is correct.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The error was erred
A batsman was given out.
The umpire felt his error.
The next one was not given out
Though he was to be so.
The umpire knowingly did so.
He had made two errors
But his conscience became clear.
08.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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