Writing Evolution: From Mud To Cyberspace
ancient Sumerians Babylonians wrote in cuneiform on clay tablets
pictogram wedges scribe written with a reed stick or stylus
ancient Egyptians wrote in pictures of an object with hieroglyphs
representing a word idea or sound written on papyrus reeds...
ancient Greece wrote with hieroglyphs then sylabic alphabets
originating in Minoan culture Linear A to B on tablets or scrolls
ancient Rome wrote in Greek Latin on schoolboy wax tablets
using pointed metal stylus or literature propaganda on scrolls...
the Middle Ages used the codex books originating with the Romans
described in the 1st-century AD vellum hand written paper sheets
the Holy Roman Empire used printing on existing screw presses
German Johannes Gutenberg inks rapid metal movable-type faces...
newspapers telegraphs type writers fax email internet worldwide webs
hand phones personal computers achieving instant communications
now globally adults children write on hand phones learn computers
tablets to clothes comps then techno implanted communication devices
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
iPads And Android - Tablets!
iPads and Android - Tablets!
Downloaded;
Phases,
Faces,
From the original,
With the fake one around;
Like the story behind the story,
With the focus! !
And like a secret love affair.
Personal phones,
iPads and Android - Tablets;
One day in your life,
News!
Downloaded;
But, you need a helping hand always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Now that digital lifestyle devices, tablets, wireless phones, and other Internet appliances are beginning to come of age, we need to worry about presenting our content to these devices so that it is optimized for their display capabilities.
quote by Mike Davidson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scribal Culture
sheaves scribal pages
mountains of words
the man with words
is verse master of worlds
making a piece of men
primal transferable experience
so far we have come
from primeval soup existence
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
sheave - to gather, collect, or bind into a sheaf or sheaves.
scribal - (scribal culture) scribes who could read and write usually in several languages, were responsible for translating and accurately producing copies on manuscripts on papyri, parchment or vellum. Books of texts written by hand were extremely expensive, especially in the ancient world where scribes had a limited shelf life before the invention of glasses. In ancient illiterate civilizations writing, editing, copying, interpretation, and public reading were the work of a professional elite worth their literal weight in gold.
Vellum - (from the Old French Vélin, for 'calfskin') is mammal skin prepared for writing or printing on, to produce single pages, scrolls, codices or books.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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There Was Nothing Left To Write
THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO WRITE
There was nothing left to write
Everything had already been written
And was being written over again and again
By thousands elsewhere-
There was nothing left to write
And nothing new to say -
And no need for anything he had to give-
It was over for him as a writer
Whether he accepted it or not-
No one would ever need or want anything he could do again-
And so when he despite all this still wrote
It seemed to many simply pathetic-
The obsessive reflex of an already lost soul-
Who wrote and wrote and wrote
Who writes and writes and writes
Who cannot stop
However senseless all he does, is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Medical Terms Of Emancipation
funny but
they know how these medical terms
work
for an emancipation
plan
release from pain
and bigotry
and
anxiety
yak capsules
kisspirin tablets
and last night she prescribes
six tablets of Biogesex
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sand Writing
In the sand I wrote your name
on a bright and sunny morn.
And in the writing came the thrill
and in my hand was born
the memory of your hand in mine
and how that touch was you.
You who've never seen your name
written on sand so white
will understand as you look at it
that to me it's a wondrous sight.
Soon the tide will rise and flow
over your name my dear.
And the grains of sand will bubble
and your name will disappear.
But the memory of how my hand did feel
as I wrote your name that day
will linger for me forever
and never go away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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No More
I wrote my name on the seashore
The waves came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the air
The wind came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the sky
The clouds came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the puddles
The sun came and it was no more
i wrote my name in the dust
The rain came and it was no more
One day Gabriel wrote my name
and alas! i was no more
poem by Humna Hamid
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I Will Have Written Only One
I WILL HAVE WRITTEN ONLY ONE
I wrote another poem today
The poem that I wrote yesterday
Tomorrow I will write a poem
Whose meaning will not be unknown.
Again and again I continue to write
The single poem of my only life
When all my poems and writing are done
I will have written only one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Book of Romans
Romans was written for us by Paul, as he would heed The Lord’s call,
To be a light to each Gentile nation, beaming light of God’s Salvation,
Romans, was from Paul an epistle, to show to the Romans God’s will.
Paul wrote about God’s Righteousness, far exceeding man’s holiness,
A righteousness that men receive, when in the Savior, we truly believe.
Paul had made a personal choice, and by obedience he would rejoice,
Choosing to be a servant to Him, our Lord who saved him from all sin,
Through the Spirit, he’d receive, a letter he wrote, for all who’d believe,
The Good News of God’s Gospel, was explained by Paul the Apostle,
So the epistle was written to all, for inspiration, as we heed God’s call.
Written to the early Roman Church, some, maybe on a spiritual search,
Even for those who Paul had heard, were living a new life in The Word.
A church that truly found their place, as believers in this Age of Grace,
Living for God, they all had grown, and their faith by many was known,
And that great change in their life, was understood, to be Jesus Christ.
Written for encouragement to us, who in Christ, have placed their trust,
Penned to strengthen our foundation, and our knowledge of Salvation.
A challenge meant for you and me, men saved at the Cross of Calvary,
To be like those believers of Rome, pointing others to an eternal home,
Reaching out until all have heard, the Gospel Truth, out of God’s Word.
Helping believers to be zealous for, The Lord, Who reigns forevermore,
Who came into this world of strife, to grant all who believe Eternal Life,
Equipping all of the saints of God, to live out their faith upon this sod,
Living out everything that we learn, while we await Jesus Christ’s return,
When He will change believers instantly, to live with their God Eternally.
(Copyright ©01/2009)
Caves Of Altamira
I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
Id hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as i
Chorus:
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasnt even any hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood
Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun
Chorus
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Caves Of Altamira
I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
Id hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as i
Chorus:
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasnt even any hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood
Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun
Chorus
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cell Phone Mania
Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.
Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.
Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.
There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.
Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.
Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.
People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might
as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.
Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,
Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.
wrote 1-19-07
I have written a few children's books. The first book that I wrote was for children. It was called ""The Package"", and it was a mystery story in pictures. It had no words.
quote by Laurie Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Life
So mad am I,
people are always
walking all over me.
Children are always
marking up my face
with colored chalk.
They're hop scotch
freaks, always jumping
on me, all the time.
Even the day I
was born and still wet,
hand prints, and names they
wrote on me.
Now many years
have I been here
time is catching
up with me.
Cracks all over
my body, now today
given new life.
So many ages will
I be here for you
to walk on this sidewalk.
wrote 4-9-07
A Ode Poem To You
My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low
My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed
To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be
Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see
poem by Twilight Simmons
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It is not half cooked
Having heard and read, I wrote.
Having seen and felt, I wrote.
I wrote of love and romance
From experience and perception.
As I wrote I was soothed.
Don’t scorn my writings as half cooked.
10.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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why Socrates did not write....
he believes in what must be said
trusting in the recall of what is important
you should have paid more attention and
kept everything dear inside your heart
he never believes in the written word
he knows that time keeps on changing
and words in print do not, and like
Heraclitus, he had always invoked
that he can never step on the same river twice
i am no Socrates, neither am i Plato
i keep notes, and write, but i shall not always be understood.
i trust in the written word, and i must be foolish though.
i believe in epitaphs and tombstones, the tablets,
the bytes, those that i leave and soon may rise like the dead
must they redeem me soonest
that i can perhaps hope.
the words can go on, without me, i keep on murmuring
may my words protect me, may my letters make you believe my truths.
may i traverse the right path, and forever, not be punished
to be back, here, these valleys of tears, these thalwegs of no return.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Demand
When we were together I was blown away
Just like paper from a fan
But you would act like I was just a kid
Like we were never gonna last
Now Ive got someone who cares for me
He wrote my name in silver sands
I think you know youve lost the love of your life
(and you said) I was the best youve ever had
Because Im in demand
Youre thinking of the way you shoulda held my hand
And all the times you said you didnt understand
You never had our love written in your plans
But now Im in demand
Dont ever think you saw the best in me
Theres a side youll never know
Cos love and loving are too different things
Set your sites far too low
Now Ive got someone who cares for me
He wrote my name in silver sands
I think you know youve lost the love of your life
(and you said) I was the best youve ever had
Because Im in demand
Youre thinking of the way you shoulda held my hand
And all the times you said you didnt understand
You never had our love written in your plans
But now Im in demand
Youre thinking of the way you shoulda held my hand
And all the times you said you didnt understand
You never had our love written in your plans
But now Im in demand
Its only when I fall asleep
I see that winning smile
When my dreams just move along
Youve lost the race by miles
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(never had our love written in your plans)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Because Im in demand
Youre thinking of the way you shoulda held my hand
And all the times you said you didnt understand
You never had our love written in your plans
But now Im in demand
You know Im in demand
You see Im in demand
You know Im in demand
You know Im in demand
You never had our love written in your plans
You know Im in demand
You see Im in demand
You need me in demand
You want me in demand
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Would Like It Better If
If I wrote to be liked,
I would not be read.
And I do like that some read,
What I write!
But I would like it better,
If I was fed...
By what it is I've said that is written...
And read by those who read what I wrote!
Finding a nibble to afford,
Liked And nourishes...
To feed the reader something read,
Coming from this writer's head!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Write in Sand and Stone
Today, my friend yelled at me.
I wrote in sand my friend yelled at me.
Today, my friend punched me.
I wrote in sand my friend punched me.
Today, my friend cursed me.
I wrote in sand my friend cursed me.
Today, my friend abandoned me.
I wrote in sand my friend abandoned me.
Today, my friend insulted me.
I wrote in sand my friend insulted me.
Today, my friend asked me for forgiveness.
I wrote in stone my friend asked for forgiveness.
Today, my friend saved my life.
I wrote in stone my friend saved my life.
Today, my friend made me smile.
I wrote in stone my friend made me smile.
Today, my friend told me she cares for me.
I wrote in stone my friend cares for me.
Today, my friend was grateful for me.
I wrote in stone my friend was grateful for me.
I wrote in sand the bad things my friend did to me.
I wrote in stone the nice things did to me.
Winds will erase the bad things written in sand.
Nothing can erase the nice things written in stone.
Forgive and Forget
poem by Natalie Vail
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