The Natural Resound- Born Ear to Sound

I would be your slave Till you rest in your grave Kneel before you Know when to pray It is your heart that starts And winds me up this way Not so inclusive The feeling's exclusive I pull apart the pieces Based on what you say I'd believe in Jesus If you led the way If it would only please us That something redeem us A hand to hold To secure me when I’m old How do I wake? Alone and so cold! Defend my own ears From ever being told Any of the wrong things It’s what you might say! Hope can linger As I live for the day Never do I find you Though I try to be whole If love burns inside I would cherish your soul Give me one chance It’s all that I need I’ll make an impression That you won’t believe

If the heart and the mind Were in a conjoined state, Substance's core Would radiantly wait And propel forward As a furnace and hearth, Time in motion Sustaining the earth Giving life breathe, Pushing winds and seas, Fish begin to crawl Then soar above the trees But what is at core To the world we are in? Is it nature or society? Or the relevance of kin? Things we might cherish Or revel on their own From an unknown pending Do we wait to be shown? A clue if you take What then do you make? A promise is happening As if lead by fate Brightly awaken To the grim suspense Haunted doorways Engrossing silence Was that a bang? A whimper? Caught off guard How can it be bleak Seeing so many stars Cold counting clock We revel in soul Around a current The fusion has stole Creeping by It takes you away Life is pure theft Until you break the day

A lot of people who live in Quebec have stated that you won't make it by in this province unless you learn or speak French.  Included there are exceptions; some tight-knit communities, reclusive as they may be, that differentiate from the French-Canadian mainstream have made it through family employment or labor jobs that do not require french communication.  In these employment area's there is usually at least one person who can speak the native language relative to the mentioned minority's mother tongue.  This is a primary reason for why minorities who do not speak the relative language to Quebecors, the French Canadian language, can be a part of the economy while so pertinently avoiding the vast society that promotes itself as culturally significant.  Cultural Minorities are more common, and to some degree, increasingly integrating into the French Canadian society while giving off an impression of their own culture at the same time....

How many people in society have landed jobs respectively, in the field of study or education they pursued after high school? I am guessing it's not a very reassuring statistic you want to use in taking the realistic success rate of the post-secondary system. But to some degree, we still hold back our judgment and remain to our convictions that the education system is a beneficial aspect of our society. How could it be doing anything wrong? People are using their time productively and working, and learning. They are learning well. Or more exactly, their senses are being stimulated conductively to the coordination of their memories, and they are paying a lot of money to be responsible for anything they perceive. Of special consideration to keep their theory and practice within the moral high ground of the instructor. Regardless, a university is an icon representing values and virtues, that are seamlessly integrated into our perception of society. We learn history, how to be ...

Winds cool us Over miles travelled Dust never settles On scorched earth Eyes change As the face shifts Alone in time As thoughts drift Anyone is a stranger On the desert plain Except for the devil Who hides within Rising in dust Distant to fame Spiraling closer Knowing your name It speaks up You close your eyes Raise speculation Then look to the sky Silence.. Holds the ground A moment so precious You are waiting to be found

Welcome to The Dominion Tavern Darkness lives In this gloomy cavern Chicks with bics Craving tattooed dicks A heroine to hold me over I might just hold her too Scrounging and lounging In this make-shift den Might eat a cow tongue Will I end up dead? The place is called The dominion tavern Sit down to a brew Something will happen The urinal smells Of evergreen booze The floors full of shit That sticks to my shoes Goths and punks, Metal heads, Priests of sloth, Some newly weds We're havin' a time At the dominion tavern It's a total dive Though people keep gathering Play some darts Let out some farts A go at pool Try not to drool At the chick that just entered She's busty and cute Semi-dismembered No man would refute Goin' to make a go Cause I know I rule Or maybe it's the beer Makes me think I am cool Ohh! What a night! At the dominion tavern I'm taking her home Like her name even matters!

Pitied By pity itself Lots of heart With little to no wealth The midgets laugh Yes, at me They scoff and they beckon For more laughter, I reckon The charlottes smile Though I hate their style The handicapped boy Swears and gets annoyed I am pitied By pity itself Look no deeper It's off the shelf I shake, tremble And feel alone I belong to a time Where I'll never be known The women fear I break to a tear The children kick I fall sick The elderly hate For justice, they wait Faced with exile I'm on my last mile I am Pitied by pity itself Death lingers' And he rides my health Can this be you? The answer is no Unless you're a genius Amongst the lowest of the low Born to no class Faced with submission They make you their ass Like God gave them a mission What did I do? Or am I capable of? Went from plenty to empty And they pissed on my love I starred in a play Was all that I did! Played my 4 parts And they tried to b...

In courtesy I find What most people define Something about love That doesn’t seem kind Perhaps a disjunction Of thoughts and prayers Grand assumptions Of how you got there And I’ll always remember That kind of smile She eventually looks back It takes awhile. It takes some space Having time in between Get with the reason Forget being mean And make a taboo A sincere ultimatum I can only bear look down As I am masking frustration What is behind me And what is my ode? Starless nights Amidst a moral code I can see all my time I was desperately there Never had a sex life As I stayed very square Too frequent to say I don't really know Being squeamish When accompanied by hoes And I'll never find one I have too many fears I look back Drifting through the years What can I say For feelings I miss Loveless sex Without intimateness Or do I not give in To bare temptation? If shyness implores me I stick with masturbation The humble depths...

When the Bacchus players were formed in 2001, the idea of having a consistent performing drama club was the proposed ideal, though underlying the apparent goodwill, was the groups reckless motive to find a source of income or monetary gain through engaging the community on a charitable front. To use the term philanthropist is to wander far away from understanding the infrastructure of this theatre group, as one would only fail to realize that this club’s integrity is compromised by its involvement with monetary exploitation, on several fronts, primarily enslaving student labor. Mind you, there is some good will in this organization, derived from the sacrifice the students make in assuming a professional position in this theatre group. By important consideration, that has been overlooked since the groups conception, that is the understanding that these student/actors are being employed by the school, without being given a choice of a union, self-representation, and fair standard of...