Harrison Bergeron

    Personally this story was kind of eerie. I mean, could you imagine being "corrected for any fault or mental flaw that the government sees unfit. Honestly, it was kindof sad at the fact that harrison's dad basicaly strided to communicate emotion but was told he was off. I dont know.. This book although it had a good sci fi vibe.. It depressed me.

Luis's Reviews: Susan Cain, The Power Of Introvers

This Ted talk is personally, one of my favorite TED talks ever. It shows the power of introverts and how sometimes, solitude is the best method of thought process. I feel as if I could relate to this reading myself because I consider myself a bit of an introvert. I always tend to work best if i'm in the corner just minding my own. It definitely apply that ethic to my drawing hobbies. I like how this talk also explains how to not underestimate introverts. I know my fair share of extroverts, and in some cases really obnoxious extroverts. They seem to always try to make the idealism that introverts have no life and that all we do is work. Honestly, I believe introverts have an amazing life. We tend to get things done faster because we have the time and silence to execute them, and we have fun just not in the over the top sociable party way that most extroverts have. I think Susan did a great job of finding a way to bridge that medium and make it something special.

Glass Menagerre Questions

1. Where is Laura supossidley enrolled to: A) Triton College, B) Dorthia Heffburn's beauty school, C) Rubicam's business college (Luis Carrasco)
2. True or False: Laura's instructor told Amanda that Laura had been missing classes >true (Luis Carrasco)
3. Tom is enraged at Amanda because..: A) she hits him, B) she gives him no space C) she kicks him out (Luis Carrasco)
4. Tom calls Amanda a(n) : A) Babbling old which B) Old stupid bat, C) obnoxious swine (Luis Carrasco)
5. Tom enters the house drunk one night through..: A) the fire escape B) the front door C) the elivator shaft in their appartment complex
6. What phrase can't Tom stand from Amanda: A) AY YO HOMEBOY! WAKE UP B) Rise and shine C) Wake up, your not gettin any younger
7. What is the Name of Laura's gentleman caller: A) Brad Buchanan B) Chett Fisher C) Jim O'conner 
8. TorF: Jim O'Connor is a Debeter > T
9. TorF: Is Jim Someone whom Laura New in Highschool > F
10. What happens to Laura when she finally sees her gentleman caller A) She gets ill B) She finds out shes pregnate and shes four months along C) She announces shes moving out

Steve Jobs Speach

Steve Jobs: A man who's brilliance has not only evolved the way we use technology, but also evolved the entertainment industry with his invention on music sharing and buying. However his speech was focusing on his trials and errors through life rather than his remarkable outcomes. However, his speech was moving, He told the college students how his error in college, and financing apple, lead to his large success in his apple enterprise. However, his speech was rather grim to me. Seeing how he said he hoped he had at least 10  more years to an eternity to benefit society when he died as of recent gives me this feeling of how he never fulfilled his goals. All and all, i hope this speech and his real life affairs sets an example that you never know when you're gonna go, so make sure you've lived your life to the fullest.

Speech on the Eisner Award year 2021

To my fellow comic artists, novelists and graphic artists, I am honored today to take the Eisner Award for best comic book artist. You all have no idea how what this award means to me.  More importantly, you have no idea of the accomplishment I feel for this award. On the surface, one might feel that this award should be taken as only an accomplishment to your writing skills in a graphic novel. Although I do feel that the public has recognized the quality in my writing whole, even more so, I do feel that comic readers everywhere have recognized a certain science in my comic writing; A certain science that reaches out to not just the avid comic book reader but to any comic book reader. I know that you’re probably wondering what exactly I am talking about in terms of science. Well it cannot be defined in any literal sense, it can only be defined in the reaction that my reader gets, and whether it is the first or fiftieth time my reader reads my novel. The reaction my reader gets should be one of feeling a certain connection to the characters as their flipping through the pages. I most certainly aim to create a relation with my fans in a way that seems unintentional. I feel like that is the down fall of most comic book writers today.

The downfall of a majority of main stream comic books is simply, the fact that they can’t connect to their readers. Sure there are superheroes who have human characteristics or humans that have superhero characteristics. How are readers ever going to find a certain relation with knowing that these characters achieve unrealistic goals that most humans cannot achieve? Even the more grounded comics have unrealistic expectations. Last time I checked, not everyone is a loner, not everyone is popular, and not everyone is a nerd. I’d like to think that everyone has all those qualities built in to one dimensional and stereotypical characters, they just haven’t realized them. I do my best to try to make sure that the humble nerd has some arrogant characteristics, or the blunt and straight forward Goth has tendencies to bend her opinions for the ones she loves.

When thinking of people who have defied the cookie cutter outline of all forms of media adaptations, I’d like to think of Stan Lee. As much as I’d like to acknowledge Stan Lee, I’d also like to thank him for changing the traditional mold for comics. Stan lee was known to completely disregard the formula that basic superhero comics had. He made it possible for superheroes to have moral weakness like humiliation as oppose to unrealistic weaknesses like Kryptonite. He made it possible to break out of the youth demographic by axing the idea of sidekicks. For decades, major comic labels have tried to “relate” to the youth demographic by introducing sidekicks or kid superhero accomplices. Stan Lee felt that there can be other ways to instill a sense of optimism in a child. He felt that a young hero doesn’t have to be second in command to a major hero; they can instead be their own hero. Since then characters have symbolized independence to youth like Spiderman, a 16 year old teen who faces the challenge of fighting crime while being a highschooler.  It was concepts like these that made me think that I could shape my characters in ways that gave them all the sense of maturity and roundedness. Making that present in my comics was the real task in my writing. I feel like that is truly the personal accomplishment I am achieving for this award and I’d like to thank everyone who read and had faith in my stories.,                                                 Thank you

Great Gatsby Movie Review

Stunned, that is the only word I have to describe this movie. From the artistic direction, to the pinpoint accuracy of the characters, this movie not only showed a vivid display of the book but also a fresh new take on the classic story. By fresh new take, I mean the modern elements that have been added to this period piece. With Jay-Z as the executive producer of the album, the movie's sound track received a rather modern day hip hop influenced sound which could affect the movie in a good way or a bad way. It all depends on how the new music captures the mood of the film. In my opinion, the soundtrack captured the movie amazingly. Even better, they chose artists to do the soundtrack that i could clearly recognize such as Fergie and Lana del Rey.!

An aspect that was heavily put under fire by not only critics, but my piers was the heavy CG influenced. Many people thought it took away from the realistic setting that the book projected. Honestly, I think that the CG in this film was perfectly suiting for the tone, which in this movie, the tone was OVER THE TOP, LARGER THAN LIFE. From the giant mansion landscape to the almost surreal gloomy atmosphere of the valley of ashes, this movie made a rather lively and colorful backdrop to the story. CG just helped to make the setting look amazing on a larger scale, what else can you expect from the guy who made Moulin Rouge.

In terms of the story line, this movie was for the most part, accurate with the majority of the elements in this story. I feel the only character they did not do justice to was Jordan Baker. For starters, they didn't even mention her relationship with Nick Carraway. She is my favorite character in the novel, at least it's a good thing that they kept her personality in check. Another thing changed was the event in which Gatsby's Funeral was held. His father was not in attendance at the ceremony. That although small was a large part in the story. I feel that was the only routine flaw pattern in the film.. All and all, the movie had great visuals, a great story line and great character development

5 out of 5

PS............it had terrible voice overs :)

Tommy Robbins: Why we do what we do

This man is a very brash speaker, he strikes me as the type of person that just takes charge of his career and actions. Coincidentally, that is the point he is trying to convey in this Ted Talk. He is saying that there is more than just a motivational drive to do things but just the act of achieving our goals in life will settle.I feel like he kept saying that he is not a motivational speaker, but he is trying to persuade everyone in the audience to achieve their goals. If that's not the qualities of a motivational speaker, than what is.

David Blaine: How I Held My Breath for 17 Minutes

I'm pretty sure this Ted Talk video took a big interest in me because i knew who David Blaine was prior to this video. I found it amazing how he was able to drop over 80 lbs over a course of 3 to 4 months. He almost died on numerous occasions. However, he managed to either let someone save him or save himself on numerous occasions. What I don;t understand is the quote "magic trick in all of this, really he is just a challenge breaker rather than a magician. The only real trick to surviving these challenges is training physically, there is no secret motive to make his tricks appear to be difficult when in reality he's barley trying. Very confusing.....

Samus Aran by Unknown (The Tag fell off)

    If you know me to some degree or capacity, I am the biggest Metroid fan in the history of the Universe. What I liked about this photo the most was the amount of gradient shading that went into the design of it. It looks as if it was hand done. However, my friend who was in Graphic Design spoiled to me that they put the words over the picture. What really impress me was all the words used to describe her, how do they think of so many words.

  

The Plankton Pancake Clown by Remy Spamieman

I didn't know what else to say by this but it was odd. Its a contradiction of two things i like and one thing i hate. I like Plankton, I love pancakes but I HATE CLOWNS. It was definitely one that caught my eye. I really don't know what else to say about it. It's one of those that caught my eye as interesting  I like the terror in his eyes as hes going to be eaten.

Top 10 Poems

• The Raven- Edgar Allen Poe
• Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
  Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
  While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
  As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
  `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
  Only this, and nothing more.'
  
  Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
  And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
  Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
  From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
  For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
  Nameless here for evermore.
  
  And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
  Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
  So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
  `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
  Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
  This it is, and nothing more,'
  
  Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
  `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
  But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
  And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
  That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
  Darkness there, and nothing more.
  
  Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
  Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
  But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
  And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
  This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
  Merely this and nothing more.
  
  Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
  Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
  `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
  Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
  Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
  'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
  
  Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
  In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
  Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
  But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
  Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
  Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
  
  Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
  By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
  `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
  Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
  Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
  Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
  
  Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
  Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
  For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
  Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
  Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
  With such name as `Nevermore.'
  
  But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
  That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
  Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
  Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
  On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
  Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
  
  Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
  `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
  Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
  Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
  Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
  Of "Never-nevermore."'
  
  But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
  Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
  Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
  Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
  What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
  Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
  
  This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
  To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
  This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
  On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
  But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
  She shall press, ah, nevermore!
  
  Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
  Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
  `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
  Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
  Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
  Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
  
  `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
  Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
  Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
  On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
  Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
  Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
  
  `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
  By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
  Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
  It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
  Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
  Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
  
  `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
  `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
  Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
  Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
  Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
  Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
  
  And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
  On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
  And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
  And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
  And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
  Shall be lifted - nevermore!
• Vincent- Tim Burton
• Vincent Malloy is seven years old
  He’s always polite and does what he’s told
  For a boy his age, he’s considerate and nice
  But he wants to be just like Vincent Price
  
  He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats
  Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats
  There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented
  And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented
  
  Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him
  But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum
  
  He likes to experiment on his dog Abercrombie
  In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie
  So he and his horrible zombie dog
  Could go searching for victims in the London fog
  
  His thoughts, though, aren’t only of ghoulish crimes
  He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times
  While other kids read books like Go, Jane, Go!
  Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allen Poe
  
  One night, while reading a gruesome tale
  He read a passage that made him turn pale
  
  Such horrible news he could not survive
  For his beautiful wife had been buried alive!
  He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead
  Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flower bed
  
  His mother sent Vincent off to his room
  He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom
  Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life
  Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife
  
  While alone and insane encased in his tomb
  Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room
  She said: “If you want to, you can go out and play
  It’s sunny outside, and a beautiful day”
  
  Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak
  The years of isolation had made him quite weak
  So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen:
  “I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again”
  His mother said: “You’re not possessed, and you’re not almost dead
  These games that you play are all in your head
  You’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent Malloy
  You’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boy
  You’re seven years old and you are my son
  I want you to get outside and have some real fun.”
  
  Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall
  And while Vincent backed slowly against the wall
  The room started to swell, to shiver and creak
  His horrid insanity had reached its peak
  
  He saw Abercrombie, his zombie slave
  And heard his wife call from beyond the grave
  She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands
  While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands
  
  Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams
  Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams!
  To escape the madness, he reached for the door
  But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor
  
  His voice was soft and very slow
  As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe:
  
  “and my soul from out that shadow
  that lies floating on the floor
  shall be lifted?
  Nevermore…”
• Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening- Robert Frost
• Whose woods these are I think I know.   
  His house is in the village though;   
  He will not see me stopping here   
  To watch his woods fill up with snow.   
  
  
  My little horse must think it queer   
  To stop without a farmhouse near   
  Between the woods and frozen lake   
  The darkest evening of the year.   
  
  
  He gives his harness bells a shake   
  To ask if there is some mistake.   
  The only other sound’s the sweep   
  Of easy wind and downy flake.   
  
  
  The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   
  But I have promises to keep,   
  And miles to go before I sleep,   
  And miles to go before I sleep.
• Madness is the divinest sense- Emily Dickenson
• Much Madness is divinest Sense -
  To a discerning Eye -
  Much Sense - the starkest Madness -
  ’Tis the Majority
  In this, as all, prevail -
  Assent - and you are sane -
  Demur - you’re straightway dangerous -
  And handled with a Chain -
  
  
• Mirror Mirror- Shel Silverstein 
• QUEEN:
  Mirror, mirror on the wall.
  Who is the fairest of them all?
  
  MIRROR:
  Snow White, Snow White, snow white--
  I’ve told you a million times tonight.
  
  QUEEN:
  Mirror, mirror on the wall,
  What would happen if I let you fall?
  You’d shatter to bit with a clang and a crash,
  Your glass would be splintered--swept out with the trash,
  Your frame would be bent, lying here on the floor--
  
  MIRROR:
  Hey … go ahead, ask me just once more.
  
  QUEEN:
  Mirror, mirror on the wall.
  Who is the fairest of them all?
  
  MIRROR:
  You--you--It’s true
  The fairest of all is you--you--you.
  (Whew!)
• Voodoo Girl- Tim Burton
• Her skin is white cloth,
  and she's all sewn apart
  and she has many colored pins
  sticking out of her heart.
  She has many different zombies
  who are deeply in her trance.
  She even has a zombie
  who was originally from France.
• Iv'e Heard There Are Troubles- Dr. Seuss

• I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!

• God Woke- Stan Lee
• God woke
  He stretched and yawned and looked around
  Haunted by a thought unfound
  A vagrant thought that would not die
  He rose and scanned the endless sky
  He probed the is, he traced the was
  He sought the yet to be
  And then he found the planet Earth, the half remembered planet Earth
  Steeped in pain and tragedy
  And all at once he knew
  He saw the world that he had wrought to suit his master plan
  And then he saw the changes brought by the heedless hand of man
  Man, so frail, so small
  Yet lord of all
  Striving, thriving
  Hustling, bustling
  Sowing, growing, ever going
  Ever learning, never knowing
  Less than righteous, less than just
  And in the end condemned to dust
  He heard the man-sounds everywhere
  The shots, the clangs, the roars, the bangs
  The clatter, clammer, guns and hammer
  And then he found to his despair
  The haunting hollow sound of prayer
  A billion bodies ever bending
  A billion voices never ending
  “Give me…”, “Get me…”
  “Grant me…”, “Let me…”
  “Love me”, “Free me”
  “Hear me”, “See me”
  While he pondered, watched and waited
  Endlessly they supplicated
  Chanting, ranting
  Moaning, groaning
  Sighing, crying
  Cheating, lying
  But towards what goal? What grand direction?
  This pious tide of genuflection
  To please their lord, to please their god
  He raised his head and laughed, laughed hard
  At man, the enigma, calling for aid
  Ever demanding, ever afraid
  Man, the enigma, bewailing his fate
  Yet plagued by inaction till ever too late
  Paradoxical man, so fearful of death
  Yet squandering life and lavishing breath
  Wasting his hours, diluting his days
  Accomplishing nothing while he prays and he prays
  Hypocritical man, pompous and preening
  Mouthing his rote
  Just from the throat
  Words without feeling
  Sound without meaning
  Such arrogance, such grand conceit
  To think one’s self somehow elite
  To demand each prayer be heard with care
  While painfully, vainfully all unaware
  One’s omnipotent, infinite, absolute lord
  Is bored
  God frowned
  How dare they believe that The Way and The Light
  Can be constantly badgered from morning till night?
  By what senseless standard? By what senseless rule?
  Do they treat their creator as if he’s their tool
  While proclaiming his glory, do they think him a fool?
  Who else but a fool with a cosmos to savour
  Would be bound just to Earth granting boon, granting favour
  Who else but a fool with a cosmos unfolding
  Would linger with man ever praising and scolding
  Who else but a fool with a cosmos to stray in
  Would conceive him an ant-hill and like a prisoner stay in
  Who else but a fool would create mortal men
  And then be expected to tend them, mend them,
  Cry for them, die for them over and over and over again
  God sighed
  I gave them minds as I recall, it was so long ago
  I gave them minds that they might use to choose, to think, to know
  For the hapless weak, must needs be wise, if they would prove their worth
  And then I gave them paradise, the fertile verdant Earth
  At first I found the plan was sound and somewhat entertaining
  But once begun, the deed now done, my interest started waning
  The seed thus sown
  The twig now grown
  I left them there
  Alone
  Alone, among the planets and the stars
  And the endless fathomless all
  Alone, bathed by light and clothed by dark
  Midst the vague and the vast and the small
  Alone
  Alone as I have ever been, as I shall ever be
  Why do they not accept it? How else can they be free?
  Why do they not accept it? Why do they search for me?
  Why?
  When their own little lives are so barren and brief
  When all of their pleasures are tarnished by grief
  In the space of a heartbeat their present is past
  They cling to each moment, but no moment can last
  When the end comes so quickly and they soon are forgot
  Why do they search for that which is not?
  Like unto children lost in the night
  They search for a God to guide them
  Like unto children huddled in fright
  They must have their God beside them
  But what sort of children, from cradle to grave
  Would grant him obiance and yet make him their slave?
  They have conjured a heaven and there he must stay
  Ever responsive, be it night, be it day
  He must love and forgive them and comply when they pray
  Ever attentive, never to stray
  And like unto children in their childish zeal
  They worship their dream thinking fantasy real
  God pondered
  He, The Be All, The End All, The Will and The Way
  The Power, The Glory, The Night and The Day
  The Word and The Law, The Fount and The Plan
  Lord God Almighty, was baffled by man
  He was puzzled by the paradox
  By the irony there in
  If only he could show them
  But where would he begin?
  How to make them understand, how to make them see
  How to make them recognize their own insanity
  They live for gain and they strive in vain
  To circumvent their death
  But all the gold and wealth untold
  Won’t buy an extra breath
  They bestow acclaim and they shower fame
  On those who rise to power
  But those who care, who love and share
  Are forgot within the hour
  They’re prone to fight, to use their might
  For whatever flag they cherish
  But those who cry “To arms” don’t die
  Their young are sent to perish
  Yes, all unsung, they kill their young
  Who fall and die and then they cry
  But why?
  A different house of worship? A different colour skin?
  A piece of land that’s coveted and the drums of war begin
  Only death can triumph, there’s no place left to hide
  And still the madmen ply their trade claiming God is on their side
  Of all who live, who crawl and creep
  Who take and give, who wake and sleep
  Who run, who stand, who dot the land from shore to shore
  Man, only man, none but man, wages war
  Only man, eternally killing
  Only man, infernally willing
  To concede himself grace
  To bury his race
  Only man, earnestly praying to his god as he’s slaying and piously saying
  As the battles increase
  He does what he must for his motives are just
  The mayhem, the carnage, the slaughter won’t cease
  But no need to worry, God’s in his corner, he’s killing for peace
  Man
  His greed, his hate, his crime, his war
  The Lord, our God, could bear no more
  He looked his last at man so small
  So lately risen, so soon to fall
  He looked his last and had to know
  Whose fault this anguish, this mortal woe?
  Had man failed maker? Or maker, man?
  Who was the planner? And whose the plan?
  He looked his last then turned aside
  He knew the answer, that’s why God cried
• A Dream Within a Dream- Edgar Allen Poe
• Take this kiss upon the brow!
  And, in parting from you now,
  Thus much let me avow-
  You are not wrong, who deem
  That my days have been a dream;
  Yet if hope has flown away
  In a night, or in a day,
  In a vision, or in none,
  Is it therefore the less gone?
  All that we see or seem
  Is but a dream within a dream.
  
  I stand amid the roar
  Of a surf-tormented shore,
  And I hold within my hand
  Grains of the golden sand-
  How few! yet how they creep
  Through my fingers to the deep,
  While I weep- while I weep!
  O God! can I not grasp
  Them with a tighter clasp?
  O God! can I not save
  One from the pitiless wave?
  Is all that we see or seem
  But a dream within a dream? 
• The Jabbawokke- Lewis Carol
• "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
    The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
  Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
    The frumious Bandersnatch!"
  He took his vorpal sword in hand:
    Long time the manxome foe he sought --
  So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
    And stood awhile in thought.
  And, as in uffish thought he stood,
    The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
  Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
    And burbled as it came!
  One, two! One, two! And through and through
    The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
  He left it dead, and with its head
    He went galumphing back.
  "And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
    Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
  O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
    He chortled in his joy.
  
  
  `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
  All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.