What is the difference,
Asked the educator,
Between being skillful,
Such as a *******,
And being educated,
Such as a teacher?

*Well, replied a prostitue,
One educates skillfully,
The other skillfully educates.

Which is which?
The educator responded.

Depends, said the *******,
On the pay and benefits.

1975 Art Institute is tactic for Odysseus to put off dealing with real world also investigate range of visual techniques gay instructor fruitlessly endeavors to ****** him he enjoys several affairs with beautiful girls yet Bayli haunts him main building of school is connected behind Art Institute of Chicago Odysseus spends lots of time looking at paintings Edward Hopper’s “Nighthawks” Gustave Caillebotte’s “Paris Street Rainy Day” Ivan Albright’s “Portrait of Dorian Gray” Jackson *******’s “Greyed Rainbow” Georgia O’Keeffe’s “Black Cross New Mexico” Francis Bacon’s “Figure with Meat” Pablo Picasso’s “The Old Guitarist” Balthus’s “Solitaire” Claude Monet’s “Stacks of Wheat” Paul Cezanne’s “The Bathers” Vincent Van Gogh’s “Self-Portrait” Edouard Manet’s “The Mocking of Christ” Henri Toulouse-Lautrec’s “At the Moulin Rouge” Robert Rauschenberg’s “Photograph” Mary Cassatt’s “The Child’s Bath” Peter Blume’s “The Rock” Ed Paschke’s “Mid America” Grant Wood’s “American Gothic” Jasper John’s “Near the Lagoon” and John Singer Sargent James McNeill Whistler Diego Rivera Marsden Hartley Thomas Eakins Winslow Homer his 2nd year at Art Institute involves student teaching during day then at night working as waiter at Ivanhoe Restaurant and Theater gay managers teach him to make Caesar salad tableside and other flamboyant tasks wait staff are all gay men once more Odysseus experiences bias from homosexual regime he is assigned restaurant’s slowest sections it bothers him the way some gay men venomously condescend women and their bodies Odysseus loves women especially their bodies he thinks about how much easier his life would be if he was gay in 1976 the art world is managed by gay curators gay art dealers he wonders if he could be gay yet not realize it can a person be gay but not attracted to one’s own ***? Ivanhoe hires variety of night club acts one night he watches Tom Waits perform on piano in lounge Odysseus feels inspired in 1977 he graduates with teacher’s certification he considers all the sacrifices teachers make and humiliating salaries they put up with he does not want to teach candidly he feels he has nothing yet to teach teaching degree was Mom’s idea Odysseus wants to learn grow paint after Art Institute he flip-flops between styles his artwork suffers from too much schooling and scholastic practice it takes years to find his own voice he has tendency to be self-effacing put himself down often he will declare what do i know? i’m just a stupid painter one topic artists do not like talking about is their failures how much money they cost creation requires resource paint and canvas can be expensive how much money is spent on harebrained ideas that never pan out? most artists resort to cheap or used materials few can afford their dreams he gets job selling encyclopedias that job lasts about 5 weeks then he finds job selling posters at framing store on Broadway between Barry and Wellington Salvador Dali Escher Claude Monet prints are the rage his manager accuse him of lacking initiative being spacey after several months he gets laid off he finds job waiting tables during lunch shift at busy downtown restaurant other waiters are mostly old men from Europe they play cards with each other in between shifts teach Odysseus how to carry 6 hot plates on one arm and 2 in his other hand the job is hectic but money is good experience educates differently than books and college a university degree cannot teach what working in the real world confronts people learn most when they are nobodies he reads Sartre’s “Being And Nothingness” he wants to discover who he is by finding out who he is not often he rides bicycle along lakefront taking different routes sometimes following behind an anonymous bicyclist possibly to come across new way he does not know or to marvel at another person’s interest

truth is this life is too difficult for me the violence hatred turf wars tribalism laws judgments practices rules permits history i’m not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world i’m sorry am i repeating myself i apologize i’m not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world god please protect teach me strength courage fairness compassion wisdom love i’m not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world

buy divinity purchase devotion earn reward points own 4 bedroom loft with roof garden deck porch pool parking in paradise’s gated community pay for exclusive membership into sainthood become part of inner circle influence determine fate destiny of everything step up to the plate sign on the line immortalize yourself feel the privileges of eternal holiness i’m living inside a nightmare inside a nightmare inside a nightmare hello? i am dizzy in my own self-deceptions lost in my own self-deceptions alone in my own self-deceptions there was a time once but that time is gone there was a place once but that place has vanished there was a life once but that life is spent remember when things were different truth is i’m weak skittish anxious alienated paranoid scared to death pagan idiot stop

breath deeply push stale air out imagine kinder more respectful loving world please god do your stuff angels throw your weight around clean up this mess planets align stars shine ancient spirits raise your voices magic work there are words when spoken can change everything words rooted to spiritual nerves if voiced in  particular order secret passwords capable of setting off persuasions in the mind threads to the heart if a person can figure out which words what order tone of voice rate of pronunciation time of day then that person can summon powers of the supernatural Isis goddess of celestial sway of words whisper secret earth water fire air reveal your alchemy winter spring summer autumn teach about passages patterns sublime eastern western sun fickle moody moon unveil your heavenly equation north south east west  beat the drums blow winds show the path to healing path of the heart blood dirt hair *** bare the mystery of your trance dance the ghost dance sacred woman with ovaries cycles flow smell beautiful girl eyes sweetness strange awkward skinny scruffy boy great bear spirit bird jumping fish wise turtle where are you why is there no one to back me? jean paul sartre what was your last thought before you died? was it nausea? nothingness? or a wish?

I am surrounded by empty booths
& four sides clothed in beige,
highlighted by hanging globe- lanterns casting a serene aura.

The swing of the kitchen door
greets me, the lone patron
who has placed his order
for miso soup &
white sticky rice.

My placemat educates
me about the zodiac &
I can almost hear the
creaking of the bamboo
painted on the walls,
it leaves me
feeling nice
inside.

Strong in her confidence,
and confident in her strength,
she graces the world with **** wisdom.
The glow in her eyes matches the
simple beauty of a sunrise.
The art from her mouth
and the wisdom from her fingertips
educates my body and satisfies my mind.
We are an ******, philosophical collision,
as the world spins around us, blurry yet clear;
and the sacredness of the unknown shatters.
We are left breathing in beautiful, familiar air,
and with the touch of a kindred soul.

Amicable, the vibration,
Getting to the Eden.
Elements sanctify the hurt,
Bonded like super glue.
Educates the visualized future,
Symphonic orchestra at the concert.

Adjudicated, the sentiment,
Layering me luscious lucidity.
Evening the odds,
Fit for four hands.
Destiny decided to
Trade compassion and serenity.

Sincere, the revelation

Always and all ways.
Sorry is deeply sorry,
Even when mostly innocent.
Let me contribute to the

Symphonic orchestra at the concert.
Bond like super glue,
Cue my disclosure.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

(Originally written 12/9/10
Revised 10/2/14)

She takes me and shakes me,in contours she shapes me,subjugates me,sublimely educates me,
and I am free from the bonds that have shackled my mind,
in her warm embrace,
I come face to face
with myself.

When my' life educates it uses my mistakes.
So should I really call them mistakes?
Or are they rehearsals sent to make me stronger for the journey.

When my life teaches it uses my stitches.
So should I really call them stitches?
Or are they  relics, artistic memorials for lessons learned !

They say when it rains it pours
So Rain keep me drenched ;not just on me, but in me, in the depths of my soul. Let the flood compromise my  'trusted foundations' and my 'solid rocks'  so that it washes away the old and the weak in me, that I may be a new man that I may be defeated no more!

The perfect woman has the STRENGTH of a superhero
The power to make you over come fear

She speaks the truth even if it hurts
She Stands by you no matter what

Judging is not in her vocabulary
But correcting your mistakes is her goal

Her family is her pride
There is no limit to what she can do

She educates you for the real world &
Her ego never gets in the way

The perfect woman is so loyal it will amaze you


Every breath I take is because of her
She is my motivation & inspiration

My life became complete when god gave me this perfect woman as a MOTHER

I hear my heartbeat through these
Headphones
The ones I use to blast loud music
Through my ears.

I lie in bed awake
Scrolling through a book
That educates me
With its morbid writing style
And straight to the point attitude.

I like to be awake at this time
When it's quiet and the roads are free
When the birds are asleep
When the thoughts in my head
Become pulsating.

I write at this time
As my mind becomes a little less
Corroded
And a little more free.

As I look outside my window
The street lamps shine upon the
Unholy ground
And I take a picture
With this old camera
Of that house where she used
To live.

I've never been one for loving myself
Or stretching out to anyone
I've always kept my feelings inside
Trapping them
As my world collides
With obstacles.

I lie back down
The early hours are becoming my friend.

The television is a portal into another world.
Streaks and flashes of light form a "Crystal Ball"
that shows us the events and messages from afar.
The change of a channel and we go to another place.
Another time.
We see and discover what is behind another face.
Television is magic.
As it entertains
It educates
And it informs us of what events we need to be aware of
No matter how scary or tragic.
Don't got lost inside of this land.
Even through all of television's wonder
There is an equally amazing world, out there, which surrounds us.
Smells
Touch
Interactions of wildlife and people out on the streets that beat the "magic set" through all of this added splendor.

(2017)

How difficult to choose a job,
Some have made their way,
Some have moved a far degree,
And still a lot to pay!

Inquiry is not practised;
It ne'er be accurate
Without a stately door behind
That shuts who educates.



E.

Kurt Carman May 1985
A Rise on Neversink
NOTE: It's important for the reader to know that Theodore Gordon was an American writer who fished the Catskill region of New York State in the late 19th century through the early 20th century. Though he never published a book, Gordon is often called the "father of the American school of dry fly fishing. The poem " A Rise on Neversink" is about a boy and his Grandfather fishing on this famous river called Neversink. The spirit of Gordon, who now lives through nature, encourages and speaks to the boy through wind and water.


A RISE ON NEVERSINK

We head upstream past fallen Hemlocks,
Crawling recumbent through advancing grass.
Wetness prevails from the night before,
And seeing us, the Groundhog shakes his head in disbelief.

Sun perched on Doubletop Mountain,
Shown the rising Brown sip his prey.
I wait, another rise boils the riffle.
My eyes question when, Grandpa gives the nod.

The shooting line breaks the winds path,
Invisible leader curls resisting gravity.
The Skater finds its mark, spinning without authority,
Setting a course through the waters force.

Emerald moss, dripping wet jewels,
Deepens the blue-green pool,
Theodore Gordon's reflection shown now,
He smiles, the breeze whispers "tight lines".

Scrambling from my knees I find
the Brown makes his approach, only to show his back.
My heart pounds and only my gut tightens.
Disappointment whelms over, an encouraging nudge prods from behind.

Gordon's voice once again calls,
Performed by the spruce needles murmur,
Patience s s s s s s  
My hands begin to steady, premise clear.

Double hauling as if my life depended.
As beautiful an object of lavish nature produces,
From underneath the Brown assaults, Skater devoured, groping,
Grasped with bent snout, outmaneuvering his prey.

Tippet strained, reel whining fervent praise,
Moving for swift water, he surfaces briefly
Seeking the currents leverage.
He educates his pupil with the magical ploy.

A broken fly rod hangs down in contempt, against the tender Payne rod.
The evening hatch finds sanctuary,
And only the Catskills angling legend lingers in the air.
This lesson complete, the boy dreams.

                                        And Theodore awaits the mourning encore.

I do not hope for the moon and stars to notice my awe
I do not wish whether the oceans and seas consider my admiration
I do not aspire for gratitude from majestic mountains for my reverence
I do not prospect for the beauty of love and yearn for its care of me
Whether it be sweetness or lust, fondness or yearning, proposed or reciprocated
Whether I stand alone, solely with my hopes and dreams or graced in enchanted company
Whether my hands attempt offerings, or secure treasures deep within me
Whether rewarded for patience and effort, or only a gift fallen from the heavens
I do appreciate the chances, random yet destined
I do cherish the feelings and thoughts, flowing yet restful
I do enjoy the time, both eternal yet fleeting
I do welcome its permanence, both joyful and excruciating
It educates my soul and urges for my salvation
It holds eternal tenure in my dreams and memories
It leads me to conquer each day with immeasurable will
It lives and dies, both along and within me

The surging ocean ripped me from my feet
And from my face erased stupidity
For I was smashed into the ocean floor
And learned a lesson with rapidity

So whenst you step into the turbid sea
I beg attend the state of wind and swell
The ocean educates all people free
But some did not return their tales to tell

The ocean hides no secrets in her waves
To all who care to ask she tells the truth
To know her is to know how to be brave
And how to love a happy tumult, too

But waves are varied, never constant things
The winds that drive them often calm to sing

I could be the Next victim
Neck pressed on
as I smell the rubber of a cops tires
Forced to kiss the ground I walked on
As he expresses his power
He overdosed on anger  
A power trip with no sense of human decency
As he presses on my neck I start yelling “I can’t breath” !!!!!!
Me saying I can’t breath seems to be the words that comfort his heart, stroke his ego as he won’t let go
Like countless others he made it his duty to send me to my maker, to rid the world of my existence
Choking every ounce of air in my body
As he claims to protect and serve
Protecting his future and serving his needs
I just happened to be in the way of his agenda
Diabolical mindsets fornicate with his views
He births opinions of being the superior race
Encouraged by the media
He seeks to honor the heritage of his ancestors
Old time slave owners, it’s in his blood
A passage of hate, passed down to him by ignorant minds, he educates himself and his children, teaching hate no compassion, seek to **** with no solution,

What hurts the most is witnessing good cops sit in silence, muted in solidarity, silenced by unity
Standing and watching
for 8 minutes & 46 seconds
Let that sink in!!!!
Clock ticks as they result to their old antics
No accountability for their immoral actions
Which encourages them to keep killing and suffocating those with darker pigmentation

I could be the next victim, being black makes me a target, makes me a mark, makes me a reason for the graveyard never to remain empty
We all die, (I get that)
But he seeks to invite death to come meet me early

I could be the next victim
So before I become the next victim
I will fight and pursue justice
I will protest until my unborn child tastes freedom
I will honor my ancestors by my action
Resilient mindset, and dedication to create a better generation of leaders, supply love in a world where my worth is determined by my skin tone,
in this fight I know I am not alone
Looking at this crowd
I know we are together strong!!!
As we fight for my ancestors  
Their cries echo deep in our souls
Rooted deep in our veins is their pain  

I will know my rights, raise my voice, scratch and claw for equality, Until it becomes my reality
For 400 years of innocent blood is enough
Our voices can not be muted if we speak as one
Vote as one, fight as one, seek change and hold those in power accountable on all levels as one

I could be the next victim
but before I am next
I will ask justice to do its job and protect my last breath and heart beat

Please don’t let me become the next victim

When my' life educates it uses my mistakes.
So should I really call them mistakes?
Or are they rehearsals sent to make me stronger for the journey.

When my life teaches it uses my stitches.
So should I really call them stitches?
Or are they  relics, artistic memorials for lessons learned !

They say when it rains it pours
So Rain keep me drenched ;not just on me, but in me, in the depths of my soul. Let the flood compromise my  'trusted foundations' and my 'solid rocks'  so that it washes away the old and the weak in me, that I may be a new man that I may be defeated no more!

They say defeat should be avoided
So I pray that I only war against mighty men on chariots that defeat me in battle, that I may learn in the debrief, acclimatize to the tactics, and overcome to the oppressor, that I may be a new man that I may be defeated no more.

“Butterfly skin” they said.
2 words that shook me and tipped me into a dark depression.
My Margot, my special.. special.. don’t like that word.
All I know is that my life would never be the same again.
Parenthood, the hardest job in the world just tripled in weight.
Urgh, how selfish.

I couldn’t pull myself out of it.
I started a list, all the things she wouldn’t be able to do or would need support with...

Applying make up
Shaving her legs
Carrying heavy shopping bags
Running in the rain. Running in general
Ballet lessons
Tattoos and piercings
Skipping a bath for a couple of nights
Camping
Athletics
Wearing high heels
Intimacy, would she be able to... start a family?

And then I thought of all the...

Confused looks
Judgements from outsiders
Abuse?
Having to explain myself
Not going out or taking her out
Not being a good Mum
The teasing, bullying, the blame.

I’m comforted by these 4 walls. Our routine.

I run her an antiseptic bath, wash her, dry her and pat her down gently, apply her steroid cream, moisturise her, apply barrier cream, wrap her in her zinc dressings, cut her clinifast dressings to size and put them on her and then dress her in her suits. Where’s the time for adventure?
No, maintaining her skin and her health is the priority.

Just about getting by and the confidence to get her out and then the one time you venture out, “What’s that on her face? Do you know what works wonders? Coconut butter. My work mate’s Auntie’s daughter’s friend used it and it disappeared, no joke” and all I can think about through my assassin’s smile is carving off this nitwit’s skin and lobbing a jar of coconut butter at her ignorant face.

No you don’t ******* get it, it’s not eczema and yes she could have had it worse but can I just wallow in my own selfish bubble for a minute?

Should I just remove myself from her life so someone stronger can step in, man up and deal with this? Stop being stupid!

The “safe” bubble deforms, another gift from the mutation she inherited from me. It no longer has sides to **** and push, just a swamp of black.

Then one dark period, it came to me.

How about I change my list and write down everything she can do easily without me?

She makes me smile on cue
She never lets her condition get to her
She is as bright as a button and educates me daily
She is bossy beyond belief, if I ever get sidetracked with me drowning in my narcissism, she reminds me what to do and when to do it
She is beautiful and I mean breathtakingly beautiful
Her laugh, the kind of laugh where you know she’s been around many more years then the mere 4 she’s graced us with
She has the confidence to strike up a conversation with just about anybody
She slips and falls but after the initial trauma, she gets up and keeps going
She senses my neuroses and makes me laugh by pulling funny faces

It’s through thinking of these things that I realise that if anything or anyone tries to take any of these most natural things away from her, I will be here. I have to be here. And all of this extra time I have to spend looking after her is a blessing. I don’t have to spend extra time with her, I get to spend this time with her.

She’s... we’re going to be ok.


Emma Stewart

It is prolific
One who always writes so much
One who reads for understanding
In order to stay in touch
It is a nuance
A shade of meaning
One who educates themselves
In order to promote a good feeling

Does a fish ever see
the glint of the hook before
wrapping its mouth around the worm?
Is it a gnawing in the belly?
A taste for a thrill?
Ignorance of mortality?

Do I have an excuse?
There was no worm on your tongue.

What about a child’s inquisitive fingers
reaching for a stove-top glowing red?
Weren’t they already warned?
We are a stubborn creature but
pain educates--
some lessons  need taught only once.

Except some of us are slow.
My fingers reach out to you again.
How much of me must melt away
before I respect what’s left?

❤

By the time you realize the beauty of pain..

You will leave yourself to feel it and won't refrain..

The stab in the heart takes you to a deeper place that is dark but sane..

Where we break down and drain..

It educates us about life, what to give up and what to maintain..

We know how big is our love from what we endure and sustain..

Suddenly  we find love pumped in every vein..

We enjoy all the emotions it brings although we complain..

But definitely our heart is not the one to blame..

Feelings are felt, but hard to explain..

So, be true to yourself and you will always gain..

Even if you are still in love and waiting in the rain..

That is how we grow and refresh our brain..

Then eventually we will heal and all again fall in the love chain..

❤

Nermine Marei
22/6/2020

A good teacher first captures the soul of the child,
Then educates his mind.
5/9/2020