In any type of pc, motherboard may be the key ingredient, that retains many crucial portions of the system and connections to many other peripheral devices. It provides a communicating highway. Each individual the main laptop or computer conveys to each other over the motherboard. The purpose of this mother board is usually produce a connection direct for all additional add-ons along with aspects of laptop method.

Small Past of System board
In the instances when laptop had been invented, it once were inbuilt your figure or simply a scenario by using sections connected through a backplane. This backplane made up a couple of slots interlocked by electrical wires. Once the arrival involving produced enterprise forums, the computer, study solely ram, random access memory, add-ons were being attached to this Printed circuit boards. As time passed by in the 70s plus Eighties, a growing number of degrees of parts started out having kept around the mother board caused by reasonable causes. In the Nineteen nineties, your motherboards grew to become capable of doing video,sound recording,web 2 . and visuals capabilities.

Breakdown of System board
Commonly your personal computer motherboard features micro-processor, primary ram along with vital factors, mounted on this. Other parts including training video plus noise remotes, outside storage area in addition to peripheral devices usually are linked with motherboards via plug-in charge cards. In the most recent motherboards, every one of these elements will be attached straight.

Mother board Chipset
Essentially the most crucial piece of motherboard will be chipset. Them settings your data movement throughout the details tour bus of your motherboard. Channelizing the info to the accurate ingredient would be the principal purpose of the actual chipset.

System board Factors
This system board includes ties for those pieces. Growth slot machine games regarding PCI,ISA,AGP,DIMM as well as exterior cable connections pertaining to serial as well as multiple locations,Universal serial bus slots,seem minute card,mouse and keyboard tend to be attached to them.

Key pad & Computer mouse button Connectors
Many occupation key board locations linked to the motherboard. A couple of most frequently employed plug sorts are usually DIN and AT. At present smaller Noise PS/2types with band are generally swapping ST kinds of band. PS/2 model sockets could be utilized on From types simply using a air compressor. Universal serial bus fittings also are located in several Desktops.

Concurrent Interface
Multiple locations are utilized simply by photo printers. On multiple slot, various wiring can be used carrying details information. Any 20 flag feminine DB plug is utilized within concurrent slot. Motherboards straight help parallel plug-ins via immediate link or dongle.

Cpu
The actual ingredient can also be often known as Pc. The item settings most businesses that happen to be conducted in a very computer system. CPUs are just massive scale incorporated tour in block small packages with various relating pins. Central processing unit consists of generally 2 pieces,specifically Maths Plausible Product(ALU) and Control Component(CU). ALU executes math as well as realistic surgical procedures in addition to CU brings information via memory space in addition to carry out these folks.

Browse
Hardware or Universal serial bus is definitely an field regular association pertaining to Personal computer. The velocity of Hardware 3.2, up to date standard involving Hardware, is definitely Five Gbits/second.

Standard Suggestions Production System- Study Merely Storage(BIOS ROM)
A BIOS Range of motion processor, the industry long term memory space,delivers the software program which usually functions the fundamental procedures if your pc is started. In the event the computer system is power upward, the micro-processor seeks fundamental analytical facts within BIOS ROM., for example, what amount ram can be acquired, whether virtually all add-ons operate properly, now of course external drive will be related,and many others. Any time diagnostic information is found to be Alright, in that case only the personal computer commences the operation.

Ram(RAM)
RAM is a non permanent recollection. It truly is employed to shop info any time laptop or computer is definitely driven upward. When the laptop or computer is usually switched off, this specific reminiscence username wiped.

Electronically Erasable Programmable Go through Merely Ram(EEPROM)
EEPROM can be erasable programmable examine simply memory. It is possible to read out of along with write to this kind of memory space. After the computer system is actually turned off, data held in EEPROM is actually held on to.

Slot machines
Normally 2 types of video poker machines can be found with motherboard, specifically AGP slot machines along with PCI spots. AGP slots are utilized for illustrations or photos cards, while devices like locations, circle credit cards as well as noise charge cards work with PCI slot machine games.

IDE Connector
This connection is needed in order to connect devices, CD and DVD.

Weak Connection
The computer's floppy commute is linked by that connection.

Laptop Support
Since system board is made up of countless components, any kind of bad element can make laptop computer nonfunctional. Many on the net network support services are generally portrayal round the clock aid pertaining to motherboards. When the customer faces any issue related to system board, immediately help from PC service suppliers must be needed to be able to abate the issue.

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Remember that guy,
Yea the one who I said made me feel all this love inside;
Well he ******* lied,
He played with my mind,
I should of known after seeing several bad signs;
Never did I ever think he would or could do that to me,
He ******* cheating on me,
He thought I wouldn't see;
I'm too smart to not have found out,
He thought I would believe his words without a doubt?
Nah my intuition
is far beyond his cognition;
So I got up and did better,
To not value me is something I won't except, never;
So **** his love,
**** all those fake hugs;
They mean nothing now,
What he did to me was ******* foul;
I have no losses,
because in this situation I was faultless;
I just hope I'm not having his baby,
Because to have two ******* pregnant now that ***** crazy;
It's too bad
he lost the best life he could of had;
As for me I'm unbreakable,
And he's now erasable.
-E.G

Poetry moves from within our souls,
It's emotions pouring out
Covering us in rhymes and flow,
Like rain from the clouds

Infinite letters, words and phrases
In various permutations we play
Collaboration between heart and mind
Breathed into these pieces that we lay

Touching lives with our written form
Healing with words, what's poetically true
Freedom of expression, thoughts and ideals
Crying out in ink, until our sadness is through

Similar in thoughts but meander through individual routes
We all sing the same but to different rhythm and tunes
Inscribe our innermost but to varying worthy causes
We all draw inspiration but from the same loyal moon

A different form of art, yet art none the same
It's in the eye of the beholder, so they say
Poetry is life drawn in pen, it's not an erasable game
It truly breathes life, looking forward to each new day

**We proudly fly our diverse flags
United under one banner
We revel in words of poetry
In the hopes they'd last forever

I think in statistics,
and you in heartbeats.

I am. You are. I am. You are.
I am chemical-based, you are a meaningful scar.

You explore,
covet,
and hoard,
anything near you.

While I am
stuck,
looking at my addiction,
through a lens.

I am forever cursed:
to skim for importance,
to look only at the bigger picture,
to glance only with logic's borrowed eye,

but you are here beside me, and you take in every little detail.

To me, blood is but a fluid,
yet in your eyes,
it is the fuel for lovers and the ink for poetry.

You are feather pens, I am erasable chalk.

The insomniac that is so filled with dreamer-talk.
So enticed by the world, that you couldn’t close an eye.

My mind is logic, reasoning, and your complete opposite.
Every word has a different meaning in your perspective
and every syllable holds a secret—
     one you must find out.

I am textbooks and punctuality and schedules.
But you, you are the only person I can wait on.

This is a cycle with ragged edges, bizarre.
I am. You are. I am. You are.

We are combined; a marvelous oxymoron.

What's up, Chicken Little? Whatchu think you know?
The sky is fallin', Skittles droppin’ out the rainbow.
Don’t hate me cuz I’m fast. Don’t hate me cuz I’m keen.
Hate me cuz I got more tiger’s blood than Charlie Sheen.

My rappin’ is a skill, wait, matter fact a habit.
This rhyme is so rare I threw a Masterball at it.
Ima get you to the point when you done think you had it
then keep on chuggin’ through like the Energizer Rabbit.

Runnin’ this game since I was born in 1990.
Ball so hard like Waldo everybody wants to find me.
Watch me as I fly free, practicing my Tai Chi,
soarin’ through the sky like Ben Franklin with his kite key.

I slay wicked verses like they fire breathin’ dragons.
Always down for an adventure so they call me Bilbo Baggins.
You got your feet draggin’ from all your pithy laggin’.
Chokin’ on my farts, left you in my dust gaggin’.

My girls be elegant while yours be nothing but ******.
No diamonds in my ears cuz I don’t like to be flashy.
You just can’t get past me, kilo in the backseat.
NOS tank in the front so them piggies can’t get at me.

Lyrics like the plague so they call my **** Bubonic.
Sittin’ at the bar gettin’ drunk on gin and tonic.
Blowin’ on that chronic, so fast they call me Sonic.
Watch me transform as I go Megatronic.

Is my **** too fast? You need to stop and smell the flowers?
I am just a human, I ain't got no special powers.
I could go for hours. The rap game I devour.
Like Frodo with the ring takin’ down the Two Towers.

My rhymes are heavy duty while yours be made of plastic.
Better call the Doctor cuz this **** is getting’ drastic.
Snap back like elastic, I made an instant classic.
Light the roof on fire with a flick of my matchstick.

I’m tellin’ all them haters that I’m wicked sick nasty.
Dissin’ all they want to but they too scared to come at me.
I go where the cash be, rappin’ makes me happy.
Don’t wash my hair for days cuz I like that **** *****.

All I really wanna do is have a rap battle
cuz my rhymes are so disgusting they’ll make your head rattle.
You’re in a boat with no paddle, on a horse with no saddle.
It’s lookin like you’re gonna hafta ******* straddle.

I know I have the sickest flow that you have ever felt.
There’s nothin’ you can do it’s just the hand that I was dealt.
Killa Kraig will make you melt, yes it matters how it’s spelt.
Get it right the first time or I’ll leave you with a ******' welt.

My game will give you chills from your head down to your feet.
Sittin’ on the couch cuz I love to chill with Pete.
I’m the man to beat cuz I bring all the heat.
Grew up in the burbs, didn’t grow up on the street.

They gave me a gold medal when I scored a perfect 10
cuz I got the versatility of an erasable pen.
Singin’ like a ren, no need to pretend.
Murkin’ rhymes like zombies like my Asian friend Glenn.

Honesty’s a virtue so you know I never front it.
Always swingin’ for a homer, ain’t no need to ever bunt it.
Now you really done it, watch me as I run it.
I made it to the center of the Tootsie Pop in one lick.

Crusin’ round town in my green 6-4 Impala.
Drop so many bombs that you think I worship Allah.
Dolla’ after dolla’, cute as a koala,
but ruthless as a renegade Viking in Valhalla.

My lyrics kick you in the nuts now you talkin’ like a munchkin.
Drop you to the floor like some Mohammed Ali punchin’.
Where is Conjunction Junction? Do the number crunchin’.
Get you home by midnight so you don’t turn into a pumpkin.

Stickin’ to the game like some universal duct tape.
Give you three tries while I nail it in one take.
I'm the sugar on the cornflake, the reason for an earthquake.
I'll toss you like a salad or a chicken in some Shake n’ Bake.

Now grab a pen a paper cuz here’s the final lesson.
I know who’s on first so now tell me what’s on second.
I did the number checkin’, I’m the best I reckon.
While you standin’ at the wrong end of my ******’ Smith & Wesson.

I want to be super me

Shave off my eyebrows
as an act of demolition
leave no roots to grow
let sweat beads know
this is a law of prohibition
against the curse
I want to be the last one on earth
and yet the first
to birth a warrior generation
all colors
all sizes
all shapes
and variations
of a people whose DNA serves as an abbreviation
of perfect

Simply

I want to love without working

I want to kiss the thickly oiled
pus inhabitating pimpled t-zones of anglo saxon adolescent girls
and tell them they’re beautiful
just after they’ve reached out and grabbed one of my locs
only to ask me if my natural hair is artificial

I want to eat lunch with the friendless 14 year old boy
caged in elementary special ed class
Immediately following him walking me
arms pinned
in front of the boys during recess
asking them how should he **** my ***

I want to tell him of a Savior
That can mold him greater than his absentee father
or molesting godmother that has affected his behavior

I want to wrap my arms of comfort around the shoulders of every insecure woman
that was confident enough to tell me
men would only see me as ***
but never as beautiful
I want to reach my go-go-super me hand in
and choke the life out of the wormy wretched murderous spirit
that eats their lives
I want to starve its lies
leaving it to die by granting the grace of a new name
befriend them with but a call and response game-

Me: “those who look to HIM are radiant!”
Them: “their faces are never covered with shame!”


I want to sound the finger snap
hand clap heard round the world
while giving a standing ovation
to all of the open mic night writers that hid their jagged daggers in a cloak of being truthful
saying my words and antics scored high for the stage
But for the page
this thing I should think twice about calling poetry
would never ever be suitable

I want to carry the little white boy on my hip while singing
The rendition of “You Are My Sunshine” that I sing to my kids
just after he hurls “******” in my direction
in a vile attempt to reduce me from perfection
I’ll teach him that the coned sheet his father keeps neat
and breaks out for story time at night is but a cry for help
that the most important thing he could ever do with his life
is to recognize others as his brothers and sisters
and to love them even as he would love himself
I’ll tell him communication isn’t erasable
and before he speaks he should remember to care
I’ll give him a lollipop
then fly through the galaxy to land on a planet
where I’ll purchase every CD created featuring John Mayer

I’ll speak and smile at every cop
That’s harassed brown people

I’ll drop an offering in the basket of preachers
that think I can’t deliver the Word
because as a woman in ministry
I’m not equal

If mine eyes can see my shell’s end
I’ll make love to my husband
in a way his second wife would never be able to transcend
even if earlier it was his day off
but instead of living it with me
he chose to leave me alone with our kids

If loving without working is tough as a glass jar of vlasic dill pickles
I want to pop the lid

As soon as offenses are committed
my earnest desire is to be super me

I want simply

to easily


FORGIVE.

my winter eyes are epic
emptied of the seduction
of never dying days
for now
but
still looking for an incantation:
this field this wave this sway
this maze this daze
the soul's substance
untranslatable
allusive
perfumed

some find it in the dark recesses
some insist it doesnt't exist
I contemplate blankness inside
my skin
my mind just a dream catcher
for illusions
a suspended note
an erasable tape
a network for the delicate architecture of moss
or was it mold?
some words have no heart at all
and we need canyons of tenderness, paths of joy
is it time that is dripping its imagination
in this turmoil?

the irrationality of mornings of violins of drums
strikes a chord inside
what is the basis of harmony?
so many shapes of wonder
on bridges, shores, sidewalks and hills
and valleys of the unknown
full of space atoms

a spirit of a shaman sits beside me
she calls me soul surfer
perhaps
god is
part violence
part beauty
part wonder
and I fall for it
when I find it
in the flesh
of the heart
only

Words hurt they say,
but the feeling of them being etched
is akin to new found pain
a pen would be easier,
staining my skin, in-erasable
the pencil is more dull
perhaps then will I finally feel smart
it feels like an unwanted tattoo.

An empty drinking glass is pressed against a wall; amplifying the voices on the other side. My ear is pressed to the words, ”outside is a secret key” - I can honestly say, “I hear…" Your words, idealizations, sentiments, selected scrawls of graffiti-type promise and viewpoints echo through the wall. Over and over. Championing outsiders…

Are there WALLS WITHIN WALLS? Can we walk through them? ARE THE WALLS ERASABLE? Will the walls tumble down? Will the walls polarize? WHAT ABOUT CRACKS IN THE WALLS? Can they hear? Can we leap over them?

DO WE build them where everything and anything follows and flows?
DO WE build them where something's nothingness tethers vapors with souls?
DO WE build them so molecular melodies of light and dark can collide unopposed?

Are these word walls of dust?  Can we move them? Can you angle between these walls? Will the walls speak a wealth of quiet surprises, poems, and meditations? Do walls give birth to improvisation?

Now some of these walls, in their moment are with no rules, self-constructed, circling dramatically, and might prove more resistant to erosion.  These are often troubling walls, no voice, no strength of decency, no laughter, which place freedom at stake. That and survival. One can be easily manipulated or yanked by an image of the truth swirling in the brick blackness of the wall. Discomforts relish now. Walls such as these are very deep-rooted and passed on for generations. Yet even those barriers eventually give way once we read the super fine print etched into the wall - a word salad of B.S., idiocy and hypocrisy.

Reach for spray-paint and enlarge your wall… maybe it enhances your world now with colored aerosols of wall portraiture's that capture rebellion and mirth. So many Walls, AND SO MANY QUERIES…

I heard a poem say, “Step out from behind one (wall) and FIND YOUR REAL SELF” – or maybe it whispered “jus walk through that door in the wall.”
Your tightly strung trampoline of words has provided a springboard for me to bounce freely over the many walls we build around ourselves.


by "ooznozz"

Your actions
Are like a bold pen.
Never erasable.
Always visible.

Do I disgust you because I want ***?
The hypothetical argument already slides as
graceful as tourettes, and I can
feel imaginary bile and panic creeping up my throat
and into my
mouth as I attempt to talk 'south'
Talk '*****' to you
Talk '*****' to me, 'baby'
I'm silently wishing you'd save me from the
awkwardness of this talk, wish you'd take me by the breast
and walk me through the rest of your likes
and dislikes
Because, I want to make you feel higher than a kite
or ******, or crack, or smack,
I want to stop endlessly repeating all the things
that I might lack
Because, you don't seem to want me anymore
No matter how much you adore who I am
Can you fill me in on the gaps please, I want
to know if you feel that you can have same aching need that I do
My sexuality is like an un-erasable tattoo
I don't take strives to hide it
I don't feel that I need to
But am I deranged in thinking
that you think I should be ashamed to?

Darling, I want to *******.
I wish I didn't think that this
might be an issue.

Correct me,

A few years ago
Writers were chained
To typewriters.
Imprisoned by words.
Filling rolled white pages,
Onion-skinned and erasable.
They knew where
Their chains ended.
Today, I'm tethered
To a satelite,
Linked,
With no end
In sight.

because i lost touch with reality,
ventured in my brain a little.
got rid of all the dust, mentally,
and it was the opposite of brittle.
infact theres a whole other world in there,
just for me to vision.
and to be honestly completely fair,
it was always made of indecision.
coming back to the world is like a resurface
but not exactly to breathe air.
my source of survival stays to my own mind, versus,
daily affairs who need my care.
so there,
you see a flare?
of a feeling irreplacable?
untraceable, not erasable.
creative minds dont survive near me,
as my heart has her own philosophy.
even though i do produce cobwebs from time to time,
i have sights to see, places to go and heights to climb.
still, i was never one to fully mime.
im all mine to find, envision and be,
faceless, frenzied, fallible but... free.

(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 12, 2019)

“The daughter made herself
an expert in the illness, to erase it
on its own terms: still it stayed, it grew, and as you know
the eraser soon starts disappearing.”
-- Albert Goldbarth from “Not Sumerian”



Years ago I began an eraser manifesto
for a collection of my erasers,
all with their soft curves and rolling debris,
all kinds of shapes and function,
those perched atop pencils
and novel, freestanding monuments.

The manifesto is short enough
to be erasable and reads as follows:

Erasers acknowledge, accept and accommodate the idea of failure.

Erasing destroys the eraser.
This has ramifications in social relations.

Corollary of above: to love an object too much
renders it un-usable.

It’s fun to erase but also fun to resist erasing.
And this too has ramifications in social relations.

When I was little I would always
Draw my mother’s hair with a yellow crayon
And my father’s with an orange one.
I would use both to color in my own hair
And we looked like the most colorful family
In poorly scribbled blue pants and ugly brown shoes.

As I got older
My mother’s hair turned less yellow
She started drinking
My father’s hair grew redder with anger
I turned indigo
And I learned to draw us always
With pencil
Sloppily scrawled
And easily
Erasable

Someone
is lifting people from my life
between blinks,
stripping familial faces from earth
as erasable ink images,
one
by
one---
gum drops plucked,
as soulless grapes

no longer fruitful,
absence multiplies---
divided by youthful apparitions,
stunted ambitions,
and
sorrow

Someone
is whittling my family tree
with tomorrow’s steady hands
so quickly my name rises to the top,
as cream
scraping heaven with barefoot screams

while innocence weeps

I used to say I wore my heart on my sleeve,
I wanted it tattooed on my left arm, permanent and in-erasable.
I said it out loud, and to myself.
Who was I kidding?
It's hidden and held.

He cries himself to sleep, he grieves for my reply,
I know he needs help, it's beating gives him away every time.
I don't think he's depressed, I reckon he's scared.
And how could he not be?
We cruise this mad world.

He's scared of the dark, from life and from death.
He's a paradox I know, by his arrhythmia I tell.
Dogs freak him out, he's scared of their bite
Those teeth can't be trusted, they carve like a knife
He's scared of the love he's never experienced,
how could someone love him all wounded and delirious?
Planes are far from his favourites, also anything contagious,
pilots and doctors all shiver his cages.

He's the king of disguise,
sheltered behind humour,
sometimes he genuinely doesn't care,
others he cries upon a rumour.
People think he's crazy, I do myself,
he's treated as obsessive, old soul and ******.

His cuirass seems tough and unbreakable,
but really he's shy and mistakable.
He has the appearance of mean and despiteful,
he won't give in to show himself vulnerable and frightful.

He trusts no one,
he lets no one in.
His problems are his,
someone interfering would be a sin.

I'm sorry dear heart, I know it's my fault.
I've damaged and wrecked you,
with flaws and toxic loves.
Now you seem lost, you're head looking down,
please don't give up, it's not over now.
I can't promise I'll fix you, but yes I will try,
at the end no one saves you,
you're alone to die.

I want to put you in front of a mirror
And watch you watch yourself
But if you asked me to take your place,
I'd refuse.
I've got too many flaws; most you've no idea of.
And if you put me under that light,
you'd turn away.
Disgusting.
You think you know me, but I don't even know me.
Every single day
I find another flaw in that mirror.
Some are non erasable.
Others are changeable.
I'm terrified one day I'll step in front of that mirror
and fall to the ground.
I never cease to surprise myself,
But an even greater fear-
surprising you.

I got unruly hair,
And I got a blank-slate stare.
I got electricity running through my veins,
Trying to make a break for my remains.

I got a heart falling out of my chest
And I got a night lacking of rest.
I got a paper full of erasable feelings,
Trying to break the glass ceilings.

I got spiders climbing up my walls,
And I'm making circles round these square halls.
I got a hazy, crazy memory
Trying to set the beast within me free.

Yet, I can't remember
What happened yesterday or last December.
All I got to my name
Are my words--which are all the same.

I write soundlessly
My message to students
erasable
words the color of night

that cloaks still the marching band
practicing and
hiding loudly in the moments before dawn
awakening the day
calling forth the sun and
students--

rise and
greet one another with kindness
the message the color of night.

Thinking of you makes me remember
and wish that I could forget.
I stare at your picture
and wonder if you’re sorry.
If you still think of me.
If you miss me,
so much that it feels like
you’ve burned a hole
in that part of your heart
you didn’t know existed
until you met me.
I wonder if you laugh the same way.
I wonder if you regret
all the things you did
and all the things you said
that made you erasable to me.
I wonder if you wonder
if you’ll ever get over me
the same way I wonder that
about you.
I think about how much I loved you.
It was a love that overcame all,
but you didn’t want it.
You didn’t know just how deep it went.
*I *didn’t know just how deep it went.
I wonder if you remember
how it felt
to slow dance with everyone watching.
If you remember the glow
of the bright lights on the stage
as we played the parts
that I wished we played in real life.
And how it felt to be the only person I could talk to for a while.
I remember everything, and I wish I didn’t.
I wonder if you stare at my picture
and know that you’re sorry.

i.
your prose ache for company, a set of romantic ideals long bound in a strongbox labeled socially discouraged. you dont understand why they want you to treat her like some flower when she is one of those old-growth firs who has a soul older than you have ever lived and who will still be standing long after you are gone. you do not see the sense in treating her like glass when she is a steel-forged blade.

ii.
even still, you suppose you are a hopeless romantic, only you wish the roles could be reversed. you are weaker than her by far, and the both of you know it, so why must the prince save the princess from the dragon? (my thoughts are dragons, you write in black, erasable ink. dragons and fire.) you think that if you were to face down a dragon, whether or not there is a princess to save, it would swallow you whole.

iii.
flowers and chocolate and love poems are all part of the stereotypical romantic cliche, but youve never received any yourself. you wonder if you even deserve any

iv.
but listen, listen, little whiteboard poet. she may be strong and she may be sharp and she may have depths you could never hope to search, but just like you trace temporary words when no one is around, ive seen the way she looks at you when you arent paying attention. worry not, scholarly prince, your warrior princess is coming.

h.f.m.

sand castles
& autumn leaves,
bygones
on yester
& days never to come

- none of that.

but
to grow back
where to
you never belonged,

wordless,

'cause you see it
clearly, now,

- that forgettable,
erasable you.
deleteable,
not delectable.

oh terminators
of seek and hope...

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 11/1/2019

Be strong, o brother! And with your eagle wings
whip the clouds, that clouds which threaten you with a storm...
We were born by days so sad and so hard
that great strength is needed not to die out
at some early, lonely grave like a blood-red lightning bolt,
but to live bravely on earth full of tears.

Be strong! Let your young arms
bear the burdens, worthy of your efforts...
Let brotherly love fill your chest...
For as long as at least one spirit in darkness dwells,
as long as at least one heart doesn't know
to what should it devote itself with persistence,
no swordsman should ever rest
in the silence of his own existence.

Be strong! Life overwhelms with its weight
those who, without the helm, will and power,
among the multitude of world's phenomena and contradictions,
err, unwillingly carried by the current of events,
absent-minded and not conscious of their own actions,
like a somnambulist sleep-walking through the night...
The Earth won't lean on them for sure!
And Humanity, in its triumphal march, never takes into account
those who having retreated before the battle - die.
And outside the persistent Spirit Realm
they won't exist, nor will this mysterious shadow,
which disappears when the immaculate sun rises in the sky.

A handful of noble men that are conquering
the future are like loose, solar links,
which are unable into one whole unite...
And maybe it's your spirit they lack
to close the circles of the big chain,
that will engird the globe and push it with might to a new path.

Be strong, o brother! ... ah, your proud chest
I would like to clad in a diamond breastplate,
against the burning breath of carnal lust
that takes you on a journey full of temptations,
against poisoned arrows of doubt
that strike you as bolts of lightning...
But I'm weak myself, and I cannot be your shield,
though I'm standing by your side
like a sister, outstretching my hands,
and I look at light slowly dying in your eyes,
and at your lips, which with a smile
blaspheme to the secret mournings of your soul,
like blasphemous would be a rose adorning orphans' black robes;
And in vain I want to protect you with my tears
against the scorching sun of life that dries up your chest;
And helplessly looking as your soul is dying,
I am calling: o brother, be strong! ...

The ground is shaking under your feet, but you must stay strong!
You have to remain at your post with courage undaunted in the storm.
He who carries the Torch of Hope and hoists
the Victory Standard at the summits of spirituality,
whoever imprints himself with lion's strength
on his own Age, the one to whom the Earth
is like a non-solidfied block,
that his divine mark awaits,
- only he the name of a "Man" shall gain
in the non-erasable annals of immortality!

Maria Konopnicka (1842-1910)

I like to write everything in erasable pen
Because someday it'll disappear like me

A wand that can change the future
Without any magical power
A simple swish and flick on the board
A magical sentence has been formed.

Morning, afternoon and evening, this is what we need to hold
For us to help our students to be bold
This is something that is erasable
But surely will be memorable.

Non erasable, maligned
"sin"...light ****** by
the darkened contours
of a face.
Providence spotlit on
sight...sun...daily bread
rising.

Why did the light go out inside your eyes?
Why did the music stop, and in it's place you only found
Deafening silence, why didn't you make one single sound
Telling anyone that you needed help, you ended your life in violence
Left a little girl scarred, when she found you swinging there
You had to know that she would forever be altered, never the same
Yet you went on anyway
Is it because you were sick, did you just not really care?
When you left your body swinging in the shadows in the middle of despair
So maybe it's not fair,  It wasn't to others
Not your wife or your daughter or your two older brothers
Who still wake up thinking of your green eyes, but remember them being nothing but grey
Filled with a pain you couldn't shake that let you take yourself away
When you were tying the final knot, did you think of the boy scouts?
About how you felt completely alone but kept a smile on your mouth
Because you knew what you were learning was something that would one day
Allow you to escape from the discolored family photo that you left framed
Hanging on the wall, though everyone told you that you should just throw it away
Escape, and a self hate to which I can very much relate
No, it isn't you, it's your illness that is to blame
Not that it makes it any easier for her to deal with her pain
Can you imagine, the sight of your indestructible father at the end of a rope?
"One day he was here", she whispered, "and the next was just a ghost"
And so she sits there, with tears streaming down her face
As blank stare after blank stare tell her everything will be okay
But that memory is not erasable, that torture inescapable
And she feels, just like you did, like no one really understands her at all