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SELFISH EDUCATION MINUS POETICAL WISDOM
MAKES THE WORLD LAME

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; aopicho@yahoo.com)

Nothing is wrong with selfish education;
Career is an important part of a good life
Much of human life over the years
Is devoted to career acquisition
In oblivion of poetical wisdom
Philosophy does not make it any easier,ok
For apothecaries to remove a prostate gland;
Apothecarical education is long, arduous and dear in cost
Never temper it with apparent irrelevance
But poetical wisdom soothes the tools
Helps apothecaries to volite in dilemma
Poetical wisdom is essential for apothecary’s work
Without it; apothecary tells a mother-to-be
Your baby will be a dwarf dwarfishly
The apothecary explains the mother’s options yet in fault
Since it takes more than just knowledge of genetics
Since it requires an understanding of suffering,
Of disappointment and puerperal attachment
Apothecary tell a daughter but in sham; that
Your mother’s life support needs to be removed
It takes more than just knowledge of physiology
It too requires an understanding of emotional loss
A casualty room apothecary goofs to avoid despair
When faced with a baby battered nearly to death
By its own zinjathropus father
Such horror requires a faith in humanity
That cannot be learned in the selfish education
It’s not just apothecaries absolute
To benefit from a broader learning
It is but entire humanity
Studying drama would no help financiers
Devise capricious financial parasites
That doomed the world into financial mire
But, if they were familiar with Faust,
They may have thought twice about
The consequences of their vice,
Being able to sing from Shelley’s poems
Will not help politicians get elected
Carousing Ozymandias might make them more humble
And thoughtful about their accomplishments
Rupert Murdoch might not now be shaking his head
And whining; how I wish I new
Instead, he were to echo Shakespeare’s words
About how easy it is to be; done to death by a slanderous tongue,
I sing this poem in a crouch in the twilight
Around the world as my audience
Behold poetic eyebrows of my comrades,

A generation of humanity familiar poetical kingdoms
Of history, philosophy and literature is a wonderful vision
Doubts not that reading Goethe
And Shelley and Shakespeare guarantees wisdom
You are correct, kudos to you,

Reading, by itself, won’t make anyone a sage
Experience is a pertinent Florence
As Odysseus learns on his journey back to Ithaca,
Important lessons can only be learned the hard way
Through bitter experience, perhaps has a change,

Youth start out with ***, drugs, rock and roll
With experience they eventually emotions decadence
In calm appreciation that; nothing to excess,

Tragic exceptions like poor Amy Wine house;
Only serve to prove the rule, there is a problem,

Ergo, Experience alone cannot guarantee wisdom
Any more than reading books can
The lessons of life are only available
To those who are ready to learn them
If wisdom is the goal, then humanity must walk 10,000 miles,
To read 10,000 books
Said 17th century Chinese philosopher, GU Yanwu
Becoming wise requires more than set of adventures
But a cultured mind that is open and liberal
Readily able to absorb the lessons that experience teaches
Pasteur famously said that; Chance favours the prepared mind
Our job as learning humanity is to take his words seriously
Prepare mankind to learn from experience,

Humanity is to go beyond selfish education
To learn colours of hope in the poetical wisdom;
Life, death, tragedy, love, beauty, courage, loyalty
All of these are omitted from selfish education
yet, when it comes time to sum up our lives,
They are the only things that ever go places,

Catholic priesthood ever admonishes the flocks;
Thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return
A salutary reminder of what we all have in waiting f
Like the Preacher in the Ecclesiastes;
We spend our years trying to find some meaning in our lives
It is easy to fall into the bottomless pit
Life is tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifying nothing
But before humanity reaches Macbeth’s conclusion,
We must provide with the poetical glory
Musing fortunately as all humanities is anxious
There is a thirsty for poetical wisdom
Which parochial selfish education cannot quench,

There ought to be a list of great poetical works
From east, west, north and south of the world
Globalectically Nursing poetic urge of the earth
With which every piece of humanity should suckle
In wisdom that Books have the power to convey wisdom,

From these poetical sources that humanity learn about love
And loss, about memory and desire,
About loyalty and duty,
About our world and love-bound universe
And about what it means to be a human being
homeland security
on these nuts
home land security
in your butts
home land security
look but don't touch
it's too much
for 'em to understand
***** jacker
**** in hand
hatin' big wacker
on tha attacker
i like 'em blacker
she's a ***** packer
don't like 'em battered
spell bound brain washed
what's tha matter?
Homeland Security Act
homeland security
tryin' ta scare
why can't tha government care?
socialist ideals
not tryin' to hear
hippie gal tryin' ta spread peace
until the cognizance cease
down with tha ****
come in your hair
tryin' ta do me long
they can't take it down
ya know they messin' around
neo-con trick
tryin' ta make brunette sick
don't they like the way i hold my ****?
maybe i wanna take a lick
lyin' *******' wichin' cryin'
like a man's supposed to be dyin'
look at 'em fryin'.
sorcery zap to the court-ordered goofs
snitchin'
doin' bad things
mad federal schemes
they all occultic fiends
with yo mama church
as the ball swings
** **** on me
mother **** the holy see
what ya tryin' to be
....holy?
goons, screws, pigs and spooks
sayin cognizance aint to use
poor court ordered goofs so-abused
papists vowed in their delusions of grandeur
all you supposed ta think
...is white cop
expendable masses they say aint allowed ta know
while they call the pope pop
guardian protectors of tha white bred
they wanna make tha people brain dead
feds frivolous threats
tha number on your badge says zero
what you tryin' to be?
A super hero?
http://chocolatefantasies.com/Dicky-Chug.jpg
Kyle Kulseth Sep 2014
Wake up laughing
cackle into the kitchen
9:15 a.m. on Sunday
cop-outs couched in cups of coffee
          Sofa King Redundant
Lock the door but no one's coming
          I'm the LORD OF ALL I SURVEY!

Survey says the pilot's out
sink is full and
blinds are drawn.
It smells like sweat and silence
and a mostly empty fridge.

"Everything the light touches is yours!"
Outstanding power bill
          bank statements
               unreconciled
unwashed clothes
and unsent thank-you notes.
Shrink-wrapped books on how to cope.

Maybe I'll ask for a raise...
Joshua Coffey Jun 2014
Do you think cavemen used to run through fields
feeling the rush of wind on their face
and the joy of being alive?

Do you think they jumped on each other's backs
And splashed each other with water?

Did they smile and glow just like we do
during a fit of tickles?

Or did they just **** mammoths
and draw cave art?
Andrew Rueter Apr 2018
To kiss someone's lips
Or grab them by the hips
One must enlist
In the power dynamic
Inside every relationship
There are surprises
Of different disguises
I must ignore the lies of
Reachers and settlers
Stalkers and meddlers
Those who are aloof
And those who are goofs
The process never foolproof
When animals hide their hooves

I took that dubious bet
I thought it'd be fun
A game of Russian roulette
With a fully loaded gun
There were unfair rules set
That's how you won
A one hundred percent threat
I'd be hurt a ton

It started effecting my health
When I couldn't be myself
Because my self emulation
Amounted to self immolation
So I sought your consultation
For the vacation
Of placation
But you took advantage
At least from my vantage
I could see your rampage
Straight from the Stone Age
Like a time traveling mage
That summoned a cage

There was a pattern
We kept going around
Like the rings of Saturn
Until I hit the ground
You made me foolishly wait to test me
And then hated when things got messy
Now you claim that you're a blessing
For what you do after *******
You must be jesting
Confidence cresting
Never confessing
Or addressing
The emotional underbelly
You just like to undersell me
Saying that I'm underwhelming
I'm talking to a tundra telling me
That it makes me a better me

Apologizing not part of your plan
You tell me you don't understand
You must think I'm stupid
To treat me so putrid
My patience you've used it
So the dead weight loosened
Once I let go of your noose hand

You come back begging
You incorrectly pegged me
As forgiving not petty
I guess you never met me
Or at least said goodbye to the best me
After never acting on the behest of me
And making me think less of me
You've become a pest to me
Not part of my destiny
Just part of the generic sea
Of those I let be
We were sleeping in our sleeping bags
as a noise like a finger snap
did wake us and break
our dreams into shreds
and someone did shout:
"This is the night the heater went out!"
And no time was wasted, it was a riot in fact
everybody was leaving
not leaving the place intact
the curtains blackened
and there were screams and tears and hours of horrors
all inside seconds
and apocalyptic schemes were suspected in every can
of canned beans
there were prophets and saviors falling from the ceiling
2 for every human being
shouting madly:
"The heater needs healing!"
But no one was listening
because the terror was whisteling
and walking very casually
with his hands in his pockets
ripping the copper wires
out of every socket
there were trains of doom
at the station
and a man with a silver harpoon did ask for your ticket
and if you didn't have one,the handcuffs clicked
and clacked and out-clocked
the time that made sense
There were houses in flames
and extended familys were just moving in
and the undead were asking the living:
"Where have you been,
i was worried sick,
now go ahead and die,
i want you at home before sundown kid!"
the tv's were glaring and swearing
"******* humanity, look what we found!
it is, yes, a heater and god the almighty, it went out!"
and evil thoughts went through your head
like swarms of bats
that flap their wings blindely
bounce of the walls
and fall
like leaves fall in fall
and only this one lonely boy, kept dribbling his basketball
in the schools abandoned gymnastic hall
getting his kicks from the imagened ghost cheerleader chicks
who were dumb, dead and gone
like weak old twiggs on a tree
when a heavy wind blows on
And the lions escaped from the local zoo
and were keen to know
what it would be like, to drink coffe from your cup
and take a bath inside your bathtub
and take your girlfriend to latest movie about cleopatra
in the next drive-in theatre
and the skip of a heartbeat was the longest unit to measure
and your in the mist of mystery lost love
was a grain of sand and even lesser
and you couldn't prove gravity
with the fall of an apple
it would float right up, explode
into razorblades that would settle
into the boiling water inside of your kettle
and the shocking shopping malls
were selling shock-collars and chopping knifes
and socks for the afterlife
And under your homes paranoid roof
you found goofs doing spoofs to proof
how bad you could rhyme
and they would always leave but never in time
the icecapes were melting like a single raindrop in hell
so that the turtles would jump right out of their shell
and fly like cannonballs that are as fast as no one could tell
and the bees were humming but only bluenotes
taking the honey and also your money
thinking it's funny
the highways were lowdown
and the deepsea was wadeable
and your one and only favorite thrill
would knock you right back and make you ill
your favorite song would disappear
in the cracks of your ceiling
and would leave you with only one feeling
none feeling
and your favorite word in your favorite sentence
of you favorite book
would jump right of your hook
ending up in the water
getting cought by a trout
that would finally end up inside a whales mouth
"why bother" you say to yourself, but you feel like a ghost
"why bother" you say
and those two words bother you the most
it was the heat of the moment
the beat of a fear that is still unexplained
that made the heater a mountain
of all that you dread
in your head, hands and heart
and now we shall part...
Paul Oct 2010
First:** Get mad when someone goofs up.
Take "overreaction", and add a half-cup.
Bottle the liquid anger up,
and store until it boils over...

Pop the cork at some bystander,
and It flows with a vengeance, past him or her,
and straight to the innocent; add just a little stir,
and thats miscommunication.

Caution: Don't drink in groups-- it's quite explosive
and the need for communication is just too massive.
No experiment shows the involved to be passive
It becomes aggression for aggression's sake.

Last: Toss the leftovers.  You don't want them anymore.
Everyone is a little less happy than they were before,
But fixing it is just too big a chore,
So the effects last about 4 hours.
Paul Langdon, copyright October 2010
Arry  Sep 2018
Geeks and Goofs
Arry Sep 2018
Maybe it’s beneficial to indulge in a relation
whether it be for your friends or for the nation
But still there’s something that helps in speculation
That ******* thing is called Isolation!

Don’t wanna stay alone? Wanna go make some friends?
Well, stop right there bro cuz you ain’t aware of their trends!
You meet them, they like you, well that feeling is untrue,
Cuz you text them, you call them, all your trust…upon them
They check it out, ignore, cuz you’re being such a bore!

Talk to you or call you back, depends on their funky mood,
You’re a geek, you’re a freak, you ain’t got no attitude!

They show up with some cool fellas who are the so-called savages,
Now you, unknown lame creature are useful in holding baggages!

You weep, you yell, you feel like being betrayed
But you’re such a misfit, so you don’t possess what you made!

So, let’s just think about it to help lay the foundation
To get rid off irritation, that collage-making application,
And put your concentration to the all curing Isolation! “Utkarsh Upadhyay”
Antimmm yadav Mar 2017
life is brutal, life is not about something to rest
yet the grave is not its goal
happiness is on the way at slowest
after a time it would heal your soul.

in the world's broad field of battle,
in the topsy-turvy of life
be not like dumb to down settle
be a super power in the strife

no one is perfect, no one is angelic
angels were much before turned into devils into Satan
filth of greed speaks over the truth,
hold on, the way to hell is far shorter than that of heaven.
it's not a race of being contented
but it's something that inner soul could bring up sanctity
be up and doing and stay adapted
for the sake of humanity.

sick of old memories,
grieving over that people left you away
give a shot and try some new self-developed theories
like a diamond in the rough, be at bay
from all filth, even the darkest hour has only sixty minutes
today is the day not yours
trust it, do not fix your limits
its yet to begin an era through life's hues

long for shadow in the dark
yearn for truth in the lies
hanker after love in the whirlpool of nights
all dreams are cryptically lingered in the eyes
sad for goofs resulted to what is been lost
be  remembered when you passed on cloud nine
be an initiator and life is fine.
be an initiator and life is fine...
Madelaine E Base Jul 2017
I don't think people realize how much I cry.
I cry over people,
I cry over feelings and emotions,
I cry over beautifully crafted films and wonderfully drafted pieces of music,
I cry over poems and long-hand written letters and the realistic qualities human hearts can have.
I cry over a lot stupid things.
I cry a lot, to be honest.
I've probably cried over you, too.

I love to write, write poetry, heck I'm even writing a book that will probably never be published and yet I dream for it.
I love to blare music and dance around in my bedroom even though I know I probably look stupid,
I love to watch movies that scare my mom and sisters, but thrill my father and I,
I love to take unnecessary car rides with my sisters and be goofs while music that is foreign to me pounds through the speakers,
I love to eat a whole pint of ice cream, even when I know it's going to make me so sick, but hey, it's worth it,
I love to lay in bed and night and just let my mind wander into the unknown, strange ideas forming in my head,
I love that I'm weird and quirky, and I love that I have a really weird dorky laugh,
I love that I can be extroverted but hey, I'm also an introvert so that makes me one of those special ambiverts, right?
I love going to concerts and jumping around and being crazy even though that really never happens, and now that I think about it, it only happens at church camp,
I love how I don't really do much, and yet I do everything all at once,
I love that I have dimples, especially because I have two,
I love the feeling of my friends who are all taller than me, just wrapping me up in their arms and hugging me,
I love to watch the sunrise, even if I'm a night owl, and I rarely see it anyways, but heck, it's beautiful and I can love that,
I love finding a new bookstore, the smell of fresh books or the scent of an ancient bound spine,
I love to dance around lazily, even if I probably look stupid, I'm in love with the fact that someone will love that about me one day,
I love to love
and I love to be happy.

But you know,
sometimes I feel so alienated,
so human.  
But all around me are faces that blur together in a line that goes down the same route of feigning whom they really are,
I've been lied to and lied about,
I see the seed of gossip and it's destruction in the form of a short two words,
I see the way the girls all fawn over the same guys, the one who destroy and break who they could be,
I see the way people fight for what they think is love and freedom but they're just pushing themselves down with the lie that their skin color makes them racist and they hate themselves for it,
I hate the way the world tells us to be,
I hate how it laughs in our faces, how all we do is try to please others and then begin to lose ourselves in favor of them.
I hate myself when I too try to be like everyone else,
I hate when I become vain or insecure, how sometimes I don't just love me for me,
I hate how judgmental I get because, hey, she said it so it must be true,
I hate how everyone replies with the same things, thinking their problems are exactly the same and can be solved equally, but they can't because they're not.

I hate this ideal of sameness,
this ideal of equality,
because if we're equal,
than doesn't that make us the same?
And doesn't that make us not us?
It's strange that we fight for everyone to have the same rights,
and yet scream for everyone to be individualistic when we can't even be real ourselves.

We're fighting for and against sameness all at once.
We're individuals,
we're people,
we're dying
and it's all because of sameness.

Where did you go Individuality?
Have you hidden underneath the deepest sea?
Do you float above the highest peak?
Maybe you've left our atmosphere,
reaching for the stars where they twinkle in your light.
But if you're really gone,
than is anyone real anymore?
thoughts at 1:32 am. also, i'm still pretty bitter.
© Madelaine E. Base 2017
neth jones  Jun 2021
the pines
neth jones Jun 2021
amongst the night scented pines
i register                
                 with an impish partner
     plugged from off a fancy tiered cake
      her school dance dress
                                       and me a lumberjack of fashion
new together
                   us toys two
splintered from our band of goofs

you are crow
                    I become antler crowned
a primer of pranky static
          amongst the wooded pines
                    roots and leaves
rhythm extant
                      and a flashlight
and slunken and bravado
and hip checks and embarrass
                        and mischief seek
and mischief applied
and bombast
                         stolen alcohol and torso
spatty wind and forrest
swig
mouth-to-mouth
                           and pines and dark
cloud covered stars and no moon new
all the time a thing impending
                             romance with exposed wrists
a sick excite
glassy glances into eyes                          
                and our mind could speed friction into flame
feel the spin of the earth
  it's all just speeding up
we clutch
the pine roots hold it all together
drawn silence....
...

and she laughs                                
              to unnerve the 'breath withheld'
then wind springs
                   and creaking and branches again
and we dance our feint  
                     we dub it 'the turpentine'
one flashlight
                       each takes turn and spotlights the other
drunken performances
                         hers a showy enchant      
                                   and baiting stumbles
                     discarded slippers
           earthy wet knees
                      through laddered tights
      playing meekish prey
i only take a quick awkward turn
(some tribal hunter mime)
           so she can clown once again

our spotlight scatters life
steals the nights light
strips auras from the trees
        and we fire out the beam
        in waste and hazard                
     as only courting humans would dare
Carmella Rose Sep 2020
let's start with a simple hi,
and end with a ferocious goodbye
do you remember the first night we've said i love you
that's like my taste of first kiss,
never thought i'd give my love so easily
just to be broken in a bliss..

i kept telling these tales inside my head
that this is only a phase, a nightmare someday i'd wake up to
but it's been almost 2 years and it still feels
like a storm and mess inside of my heart
and all those places, i see your ghost
and past laughs and goofs,

i don't wanna move on from the realest thing i've ever had,
i want you to call me by my name and tell me it'll be okay
and hold my hand again even for the last time,

i've tried playing fire, destroyed my memories with you
chose recreate it with others, failed as a failure like me,
i wanna scream at you, but really i just want you back..

why'd we end up here, can you please tell me why?
maybe i'll never get over, but i'll always love you like how rosie loved alex.
Daan  Jul 2016
The f word
Daan Jul 2016
Not shaken, endlessly, mistaken, dead.
In nature I am sly,
when thinking rather shy.
Decisions in less than a day,
like whether or not you're going to stay,
should all be made alone on roofs.

I am the one who goofs.
Now please don't run away.
I can also take the check and pay.
You think of saying bye,
your clock says time to go back to my
not taken, hopelessly, forsaken, bed.

— The End —