The Professor

The Professor and The Monkey are intended to be used as tool to teach children lessons in mathematics, language, and moral studies. If anybody is an aspiring cartoonist, or wants to draw cartoons for children's books please contact me.

A thought: II

Self indulgence is the secret of poetry. Pain and pleasure, mostly pain scratched on papyrus for others to read. The others will read your words, probably admire them, congratulate you, and leave a note of appreciation for you have successfully publicized that common gash. Poetry tries to beautify the pus. I am culprit to such foolishness. Why should I consider pain any different from pleasure? Why should I understand pleasure to be good? Should there be pain or pleasure for that matter? At the fair I shot a pellet and burst a balloon. It was my pleasure. When a similar projectile hits me, I give a name, "pain" and try to kill it by suffocating it in my poetry. I am a coward to do so. Face it. Do not hide it. Live it. Do not kill it. And if you survive...then write a verse in honor of the experience. Following this logic, poetry is a parable (in verse) narrating an experience, your experience. Poetry ought to be humanized then. Give it a life, and let it live inside you, as you. It will grow flagella, and eventually acquire perception and understand morals. If it does, you will benefit...becoming more moral. Only then will poetry be honest and useful. Cherish what you have. Do not waste it. Preserve it. You might lose it any day. Do not mourn when it is lost. It was meant to disappear. Before it is gone make poetry a brother. Give it respect. Question it when it sways from course. Learn from its answers. And share bread. You are sons of the same mother- nature that is.

A thought: I

Man is passing. So are his deeds. We fight for a legacy. But those who might remember us will eventually become null. Legacy is lost. Should remembrance be our purpose? Or should men strive to live as men, work as men, live, and then die, knowing that they have achieved completion at the ultimatum? What should our philosophy be? Not comfort. For comfort is not more than self indulgent fashion, and fashion is petty. Not beautification as the rose has to wilt one day. And not many of us can compare to the candor of a flower. I do not know what the purpose of my existence is. I will not pretend to harbor such knowledge. Although intuition tells me, life is not for a greater purpose but for living with honesty and belief in what is greater than us, creator...and let our actions be the fruit of our years. A woman gives birth. She raises the child- raising the child is her reward. She is content. So should I with my life at this moment. If satisfaction is not harnessed in the present it might never show its face in the future. Go on...as you should...and eventually turn into shadow, stone, dust, fire and return to the elements which make us.