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Friday, December 31, 2010

2011 New Year’s Resolution, by Daniel Mulligan

 
And thus the New Year is upon us once again,
All the buzz, activities, motions, and cheerfulness,
Sitting in the cozy nook near the hearth,
I spell my New Year’s Resolution,

Novelty flows in the air, hostility, but rare,
As if the old globe has been replaced with a spare,

Dear universe, let me set my first desire,  
A world at peace and away from war’s fire,
The year that passed witnessed so much scourge and affright,
Let’s hope that the New Year will impel all that to expire,

 

Dear universe, let me instate my second wish,
Allow me to flow freely and autonomous akin to a fish,
Live free or die well, I heard them say, 
Hence I would play the role of a free man in this play, 


Dear universe, let me articulate my third hope,
Sweet happiness for the humanity to cope,
To live mirthfully, and to make others joyful,
To knot the people unitedly using this felicitous rope,  
 
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal,
That they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,
That among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,
These three wishes, also make the Declaration of Independence, 




May 2011 be a year of aliveness, autonomy, and contentment,
That is my sincere bid, resolution, and statement.


Thursday, September 2, 2010

A short story: “In Country” by James Ross

You seldom catch the opportunity to read a story that emanates nostalgia and hope at the same time. “In Country” is certainly one of those narratives that do just that. 

      A recently divorced dad and his son who have to leave their neighborhood for something of a "Bandit Country" presumably to forget about the bitter past and start a new life. 
 
      This short story shows clearly that while divorce can be very tough at times, the life could certainly move on even after such ordeals. Depicting the challenges of life after divorce are evened by the calmness of a one-on-one chat between a father and his eight-year-old son. 

 
      Once again, if you would like to taste nostalgia and hope simultaneously give this short story of three pages a try.


Access “In Country” by James Ross


(The story is 3 pages long)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Books about meaning of life


In our journey to self-discovery, there is no companion more essential than appropriate books.I recommend all of my students to examine these books and realize that while we can never grasp the truth as its entirety, being surrounded by possibilities, and living in mystery can award us a life full of excitement, variety, conscientiousness, research, and most of all happiness.


  
                                          Download the book now 
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                                    Download the book now 

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                                        Download the book now 
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                                        Download the book now

Monday, July 12, 2010

Heavenly Hands By Daniel Mulligan

As I leave behind the habitat that is humming with hyperactivity

As I leave behind the constant hearing of howdy hitting you like a hammer
 
As I leave behind the huge hub that houses hordes of humans
 
As I leave behind all the urban holders that hogtie your hands
 
As I leave behind the headachy hiss of the auto engines and the howls of the horns
 
As I leave behind the humorous remarks after having nothing but an honorable mention
 
As I leave behind the hasty hovering of the men and women who hope more than they work
 
As I leave behind the heartlessness of the metropolitan herd
 
As I leave behind the hideous highly-developed place for the ruck
 



As I head towards the hazy halo of my hushed home
 
As I head towards the hilarity that heightens my heady attitude
 
As I head towards the habit of hailing my hippy solitariness
 
As I head towards the higgledy-piggledy household appliances
 
As I head towards the cookware and have a hefty hamburger 
 
As I head towards the humble high definition TV that hues my hideout with colors
 
As I head towards the healthy pair of eyes that have waited for me the whole day


 That is when I realize that all those heavy hassles

Can be healed by the haven that is held by your heavenly hands my darling

Happiness is here with your help
    

Monday, June 28, 2010

Writing Formal Business Letters/Emails


In the concurrent business world, writing formal letters according to the widely accepted methods, is the number one priority. 
      
       At the same time, due to the fact that online communications and the internet have literally dominated all other manners of connection, conveying the formal letters through the format of email is far more common if not prerequisite.

       Talk Show 2.0 is privileged to present you with a short yet efficient guide concerning the way by which to write business letters and formal emails. Hope you would find it useful. 


 

Access the guide “Writing Formal Business Letters/Emails”


*PDF (18 pages long) stored on Google Documents ready to view,share, and print*

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Poems for Successes



We all need some motivational words to immerse our souls in as a means to continue on the sometimes seemingly mysterious road of life. In this section I have posted a selected few poems regarding success and achievement. 
 

MY COMFORT ZONE

I used to have a comfort zone where I knew I wouldn't fail.
The same four walls and busywork were really more like jail.
I longed so much to do the things I'd never done before,
But stayed inside my comfort zone and paced the same old floor.
I said it didn't matter that I wasn't doing much.
I said I didn't care for things like commission checks and such.
I claimed to be so busy with the things inside the zone,
But deep inside I longed for something special of my own.
I couldn't let my life go by just watching others win.
I held my breath; I stepped outside and let the change begin.
I took a step and with new strength I'd never felt before,
I kissed my comfort zone goodbye and closed and locked the door.
If you're in a comfort zone, afraid to venture out,
Remember that all winners were at one time filled with doubt.
A step or two and words of praise can make your dreams come true.
Reach for your future with a smile; success is there for you! 


BE THANKFUL
Be thankful that you don't already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?
Be thankful when you don't know something,
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.
Be thankful for the difficult times.
During those times you grow.
Be thankful for your limitations,
because they give you opportunities for improvement.
Be thankful for each new challenge,
because it will build your strength and character.
Be thankful for your mistakes. They will teach you valuable lessons.
Be thankful when you're tired and weary,
because it means you've made a difference.
It's easy to be thankful for the good things.
A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are also thankful for the setbacks.
Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive.
Find a way to be thankful for your troubles,
and they can become your blessings. 



DON'T QUIT
by Edgar A. Guest
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
when the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
when the funds are low and the debts are high,
and you want to smile but you have to sigh,
when care is pressing you down a bit - rest if you must,
but don't you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns.
As everyone of us sometimes learns.
And many a fellow turns about when he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow - you may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than it seems to a faint and faltering man;
often the struggler has given up when he might have captured the victor's cup;
and he learned too late when the night came down,
how close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out - the silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
and when you never can tell how close you are,
it may be near when it seems afar;
so stick to the fight when you're hardest hit - it's when things seem worst,
you must not quit. 





Saturday, June 12, 2010

"Numb" - LINKIN PARK

                                                            
Numb by LINKIN PARK

I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
I don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
[Caught in the undertones, just caught in the undertones]
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
[Caught in the undertones, just caught in the undertones]

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
Become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me, and be less like you

Can't you see that you're smothering me
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control
'Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you

[Caught in the undertones, just caught in the undertones]
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
[Caught in the undertones,just caught in the undertones]
And every second I waste is more than I can take

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
is be more like me, and be less like you

And I know I may end up failing too
But I know you were just like me
With someone disappointed in you

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
Become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me, and be less like you
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
[Tired of being what you want me to be]
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
[Tired of being what you want me to be]

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Brainy Quotes

I just received an email from Pegah, one of my students, regarding some brilliant quotes from few of the most prominent thinkers of the previous centuries. Hope these few citations help us to contemplate about life in a slightly different manner.


   

Friday, May 28, 2010

A Short Story: "Do You Speak English ?" by Simon Collings


Transparent discrepancies among the masses could be interpreted as : different languages equals different cultures, equals different perceptions. It’s these differences that benefits some and awes others. "Do you Speak English ?" is a short story about a young [presumably Latino]  boy from a piteous background who resorts to fishing as a means of making money, and whose actions eventually offend a passerby who happens to be an American tourist. 

      The story ,as a whole, is narrated from the perspective of Manuel, who is aware of the problems of the boy as he himself struggles with the sheer amount of issues of his own.
As the story unfolds, he watches the deception done by a young boy who takes advantage of the emotion of a tourist and ends up being paid for something he would not accomplish, and certainly does not merit.

      Throughout the tale, you are constantly fed by the notion of inevitable divergence as a result of varied background most of which are rooted in financial matters.
 

      The kind of departures that are only grasped thoroughly , within the concept of tourist gone appalled.
  
      The reader towards the closing of the story is obliged to ask themselves the authenticity of such significant diversity of opinions and philosophies in the real world caused by such fiddling, run-of-the-mill materialistic matters. 

      To put in a nut shell , "Do You Speak English ?" is all about differences.
 
You can read this brief story (4 pages long) here.    

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Longing to Return Home



By Mrs. Ella Goodwin, and Emilie Autumn


I'm homesick to-night, just homesick,
  O! how I long once more
Just to sit as of old in the twilight
    On the step of the old kitchen door
And watch the meek cows in the farmyard,
    And the colts in their frolicksome play
Or standing contentedly nibbling
    At the stacks of the sweet clover hay. 







In times of warmth when love and comfort dear
Have cast their blindless light upon my star,
How is it that I wish to disappear
And find myself again back where you are?
Is it that home is only home with you?
And how then did you earn your house that name
When judged by years it’s relatively new?
My home is not my home here just the same.
And so I will be happy as I must
Although without you sugar tastes as dust.


What sweetened torture I endure each day
When hour after hour passes by
And still I feel so very far away
From that which I desire - yes, thee and I
Yet rosey is my sadness, for ere now,
I never had pined after someone’s touch
Nor eyes, nor lips, nor hands, nor raven brow
And here I am missing almost too much.
My paradox is that I weep at this
While being glad I have a love to miss.


Heartsick I have been this long, long day
Heavy is my disposition, yet
I smile and try my best to hide away
The pain, the life, the love I can’t forget
Sorry am I for the ones I fool
They ask for nothing save my company
And yet I cannot seem to break the rule
That sayeth once I love twice bound I’ll be
Alas, I often slip and to them show
That far away my heart desires to go.




  I'm homesick to-night, oh so homesick, 
    Just to be there once more,
And stand where the golden sunshine
    Falleth across the floor;
Or to sit by the open window
    Where the breeze blows happy and free__
There isn't one spot in the old home
    But brings some tender mem'ry to me.

It seems only a moment past
I listened to the dulcet tone
Of thy too far off voice at last
But now I find myself alone
Yet, my eyes closed, I am not so
For underneath my fingertips
I feel your flesh, caressing slow,
And hold thy tongue between my lips
Past caring how forlorn it seems
I’ll sleep to meet you in my dreams.





 
























I'm homesick to-night, O how homesick,
    Never my tongue may tell,
Tho' my heart may break with longing
    For the scenes that I love so well;
But the dear old home in the valley
    Will be mine, O never again:
No more will its sunshine cheer me,
    And wishes and tears are in vain. .



A cold wind ravages my mind
As though I were a blade of grass
Which, rained upon, has been made blind
And waits now for the storm to pass
But, strange, the closer cometh I
To travel’s end and your embrace
The darker seems to go the sky
The further off seemeth your face
‘Tis trying, when in pain, to rhyme
‘Tis harder still to measure Time.

Friday, April 30, 2010

A Short Story: Gifts to the Dark Gods by Mary McCluskey


Addiction [to anything] regardless of its atrocity and immorality can degenerate even the healthiest and most qualified of life styles.

    While few forms of addiction such as drug abuse have always been taken seriously and confronted rigidly, other types ,however, have not.

    The compulsory desire to experience a supposedly normal physical or mental phenomenon repeatedly can prevent us from acquiring the basic fundamentals of living, let alone an irresistible impulse to perform something as fallacious as theft.

    Gifts to the Dark Gods narrates the story of a woman named Helen, who has everything and nothing. A family of virtue and wealth with happy children, and a husband who values morality and legality through his profession as a lawyer.
But perhaps one thing she lacks is independency from the hands of her husband who happens to be the bread winner of the household.

    Helen is simply addicted to shoplifting and stealing of goods; a rather strict rule regarding theft of three separate items a day governs this addiction to the point where she would suffer from panic attacks should she did not manage to steal the aforementioned tokens.

    The narrative more than anything transmits the grey sense of urgency for burgling something as utterly meaningless as a flower vase filled with water in order to quench the thirst for such addiction.

    This short story ends in a sensible yet predictable manner and serves as a reminder for all of us who may or may not find ourselves suffering from the predicaments of such.

You can read the story here .

Monday, April 19, 2010

The Traveler ,By Sohrab Sepehri


The table caught the traveler's eyes:

-"What lovely apples!
 
Life is high of the solitude."
 
The host asked:
 
"What does lovely mean?"
 
-"Lovely means an amorous interpretation of forms.
 
Love, and love only
 
Intimates you with the warmth of an apple
 
Love, and love only
 
Took me to the vast realm of lives' sorrow
 
And gave me the chance of becoming a bird.
 
-And the potion of sorrow?
 
The potion tastes like pure elixir.
 
-Why are you downhearted? You look lonely.
 
-And how lonely do I feel !
 
-I suppose
 
You are involved with the invisible vein of colors
 
-Involved means
 
In love.  
 
-And imagine how lonely would the fish feel
 
Were it involved with the blueness of the infinite sea.
 
-What sad delicate imagination! 

-Sadness is the hidden smile of plant look,
 
A faint indication to the negation of the unity of objects.

Friday, April 9, 2010

A Poem From A Friend #2

Are these idle whys indeed?
By Mack Moradi 


I’m just wondering,
Why you should give up everything,
Why you would ignore your own scarlet happiness,
                       Over my wilted blue consciousness,
Why you would captivate your ivory fondness,
                       In my blurred corpus,
Why you would touch your vivid lips,
                        On my drought and fidgety smiles,
Why your tender fluffy arms,
                         Embracing always my desperate presence,
Why you’d be shooting your twinkling passions,
                         To my castaway dimmed stars,
Why and why and more whys….
         
 I just know you’re the noble alchemist,
                                        With your celestial might,
                                  Turning my blues to a rainbow of love,                                                                                                   
          Still seeking desperately,
                         For the sense of all "whys",
                                               Hopping for revealing,                   
                                                                    All hints and signs, 

Thursday, April 1, 2010

A Short Story: The Card by James Ross


Childhood has always been conceived as the most crucial era of our lives, the period where our personalities are shaped and our minds molded.

Reading a short story about the short experience of childhood is similar to acknowledging the changes that we have gone through with the nostalgic sense of remembrance that evokes different emotions for different individuals.

Read this very short yet immersible story (5 pages long) here.

Reading 2.0 !!!



Nearly everybody agrees upon the fact that there is no better means to improve your language cognition than to study literature on a regular basis.

By studying literature we simply imply reading books as we are all aware, however due to the constant hum of our daily lives and its following lack of spare time coupled with the fiscal difficulties in regard to purchasing, carrying and maintaining actual books, the contemporary occupants of earth would find it rather inaccessible to read literary contents such as novels, poems, journals and so forth on occasion, let alone regular basis.

Although the modern people are blessed with the power of internet and as a result can obtain the aforementioned materials online, free of charge and within the comfort of their house or office.In fact online reading and e-books have proved a formidable opponent for the typographical and printing industry and more and more people embrace this style of reading every single day.

In this way I am more than gratified to present my students with but best short stories and literature both classic and modern in my blog so they can appreciate the seemingly flawless opportunity given to them by the internet.

It's also worth mentioning that my blog is equipped with the online version of Longman Dictionary and students can easily look up the difficult words in a matter of seconds.


Saturday, March 27, 2010

A Poem From A Friend




In the name of love and its creator

By
Mack Moradi





Leafing through my baffled liveliness,

Gazing into my indistinct novels,

In the course of times,

On my gloomy being,

Eroded presence,

Disillusionments,



Undiluted and unabashed,

Sensing only you tough,

Illuminating solely by me,

A little hazy though,



Rendering as a divine buxom fairy,

Flying through the poetic blue firmament,

A cordial silhouette, flowing in my wounded heart,



Always in my tranquility, in my aloofness,

Yearning your tenderness,

Sweet scented, rapturous,





A brisk little ray,

In my dejected little heart,

Casting endlessly tiny flowery lust;

Feeling so gracefully, being by your thought,



A true passion is,

An ethereal moment,

A shimmering crescent on earth,

A sheer depicted glowing beauty,

While befalling me as an angelic mass,

Descending to me with her exalting meekness,

Granting the merit, that is worth the toil in essence,



A true meaning of the celestial elegance,

Provocative of love and almighty’s praise;



I’ve been courting your finesse,

Caressing gracious delicacy,

Embracing your kindness,

Tasting your sweetness,

Your odorous absence;



Deeply saturating me with,

Your enchanted romance;



Soothing remedy on my past roaming essence,

Enticing me always with your heavenly scents,

As if I remain in love-induced daydreams;

Your pearl like entity, a sheer innocence,

Reclining on her angelic oyster sets,



The molded poems

With its eternal verse,

Whispering a sonnet,

Sounding so amorous,

Consoling my harp corpus,

My sullen one and tuneless;



You breathing blossoms,

In my nostalgic spring, an exalted spirit,

Blowing into my anguished gloomy essence;



Your rolling teardrops, a revival ecstasy,

Showering on my fidgety drought body;



I will comfort you,

Always caress you,

As your twinkling motion,

Constantly I sense,



You, my little gold fish,

You know you’re the warmth,

In my shivering introversive guts;



Whit my all affection, I do embrace,

I keep you in my arms,

You little precious,



My heart, I do realize, it is so worthless,

Comparing to your Loving eminence,



Valentine’s Day 1388