A shocking occurrence ceases to be shocking when it occurs daily.
quote by Alexander Chase
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Related quotes
Some Prefer To Keep It Frozen
Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.
Unfortunately...
Not everyone welcomes this gift to receive.
With a keeping it under wraps.
To pack away in one's attic.
Or...
Stored in one's basement.
To leave it frozen in a freezer,
With a thawing no one will ever see at all.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.
Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.
But,
Left corrupted...
A shocking honesty can awe.
To be abducted.
Shocking honesty can awe.
With none conducted.
A shocking honesty can awe.
And...
Leaving it to freeze,
Never to thaw.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shudder/king Of Snake
Kkking of snake
King of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Snake
Snake
Snake
Snake
24 hours with the king of snake
Kkking of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
Im on a boast and the king of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
King of snake race
Im on a boast and the king of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
Im on a boast and the king of snake
24 hours with the king of snake
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink drink
And you go ping
Heat that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Snake
Drink that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enougha
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Right
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
[...] Read more
song performed by Underworld
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The Interpretation of Nature and
I.
MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.
II.
Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.
III.
Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.
IV.
Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.
V.
The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.
VI.
It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.
VII.
The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.
VIII.
Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.
IX.
The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.
X.
The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.
XI.
As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.
XII.
The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.
XIII.
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Daily Records
This could be suffering
This could be suffering
This could be pleasure
This could be pleasure
Im unaware of any difference
Im unaware of any difference
My head is aging
My head is aging
My balls are aching
My balls are aching
But Im not looking for deliverence
But Im not looking for deliverence
This could be letting on
This could be letting on
This could be highly cut
This could be highly cut
Im unaware of ~any difference
Im unaware of ~any difference
One says it cant be done
One says it cant be done
Then somebody does it - but
Then somebody does it - but
Im not watching for equivalents.
Im not watching for equivalents.
I just dont quite know how to wear my hair no more
I just dont quite know how to wear my hair no more
No sooner cut it than they cut it even more
No sooner cut it than they cut it even more
Got to admit that I created private worlds
Got to admit that I created private worlds
Cold sex and booze dont impress my little girls
Cold sex and booze dont impress my little girls
Daily records
Daily records
Just want to be making daily records
Just want to be making daily records
Try to avoid the bad news in the letters
Try to avoid the bad news in the letters
Just wanna be making records
Just wanna be making records
Play in - play out - fade in - fade out
Play in - play out - fade in - fade out
Making records day in - day out
Making records day in - day out
And they say its just a stage in life
And they say its just a stage in life
But I know by now the problem is a stage
But I know by now the problem is a stage
And they say just take your time and itll go away
And they say just take your time and itll go away
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
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So Shocking To Mourn
Can a tragedy expected,
Be one that's so shocking to mourn?
If signs and warnings go ignored,
To the point when its occurrence done...
Leave some numbed and forlorn.
When reality sits and it is scorned.
What is it that one must face,
To embrace truth for what it is?
What will it take for pretentions to stop.
With a chasing of a fakeness away.
A suffering done when it comes,
Should tire those parading their charades...
Everyday.
Can a tragedy expected,
Be one that's so shocking to mourn?
If signs and warnings go ignored,
To the point when its occurrence done...
Leave some numbed and forlorn.
When reality sits and it is scorned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Victories Of Love. Book II
I
From Jane To Her Mother
Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
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Canto the Second
I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.
II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.
III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.
IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.
V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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With A Push Afoot
Stampeded in a heated field,
And crushed by one's beliefs.
Eventually has shown to those,
A strong faith kept succeeds.
And...
Lessons taught,
Once hard to face...
Surfaces to show,
A Sunrise seen exposes...
Truth is not disposable.
Those burdens carried on one's back,
Fall off like a stunned rat trapped.
Stampeded in a heated field,
And crushed by one's beliefs.
Eventually has shown to those,
A strong faith kept succeeds.
And...
Lessons taught,
Once hard to face...
No longer face defeat.
With a push afoot,
All stampedes ceases.
All input,
Seeks honesty.
With a push afoot,
All stampedes ceases.
All input,
Seeks honesty.
Stampeded in a heated field,
And crushed by one's beliefs.
Eventually has shown to those,
A strong faith kept succeeds.
With a push afoot,
All stampedes ceases.
All input,
Seeks honesty.
With a push afoot,
All stampedes ceases.
All input,
Seeks honesty.
And...
Lessons taught,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Up Above The Daily Hum
Wondering at the scope of my experience
Cautious so not to be cold
Caught up in the comfort of what I once was
Lost in all the brand new possibility
Oh to be
In the middle
Happy on the pull of the past
Just before the future comes
Hoping for the rush of some experience
That could elevate me
Up above the daily hum
Up above the daily hum
Up above the daily hum
Up above the daily hum
When is this all over
When does the next one begin
Happy on the pull of the past
Just before the future comes
Hoping for the rush of some experience
That could elevate me
Up above the daily hum
Up above the daily hum
Up above the daily hum
Up above the daily hum
song performed by Flaming Lips
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Lord let it be so inspired by the Holy Bible
Lord let it be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
if Despair be our Our daily bread
No Lord let not be so
Examine me my Lord
And know my mind
Keep me on good ways to go
And Lord let it be so
Set me free from distress
Make me good and strong
For sinful gains i must long
No Lord let not be so
Lord listen to my call of help
And be always at my side
Be with me when i need you
And Lord let it be so
O'Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily bread
Lord let not be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily
Lord let not be so
And let it be so
Set me free from distress
Make me good and strong
[...] Read more
poem by Rehanayakoob Yakoob
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Culture Shock Thru Auto-Flash Toilet
culture shock
basically not from
shocking culture
for there is no
culture which is
literally shocking
it is just peculiar
unfit to ones
foreign test
this ''shocking'' thoughts
has popped up
before leaving
the censored auto-flash toilet
that's really shocking
leaving the waste unnoticed
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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The Daily Act of Presence
Eight hours at work, commuting sometimes two,
the daily act of presence is assigned
its p[l]ace, weak celebration paid in kind,
traced race to waste bereft, much left to do.
Eight hours abed, at table almost two,
the daily act of presence, daily grind,
few dare opt out of as life's clocks unwind, -
such haste to conquer Time, whose ride’s askew.
Three hours of leisure, then, without ado,
day's drive departs, leaves most deprived of breath.
Who'd buck luck's trend bends in the end to Death
whose lock mocks motto 'to thyself be true! '
Three hours for chat, sex, net or television,
no wonder Man’s case-study for derision.
16 May 2001 revised 18 December 2008
robi03_0936_robi03_0000 SXX_EJZ
for previous version see below
The Daily Act of Presence
Eight hours at work, in travel up to two,
the daily act of presence is assigned
and celebrated weakly, paid in kind, -
so much to waste, so little left to do.
Eight hours abed, at table almost two,
the daily act of presence, daily grind,
few dare opt out as life's clocks unwind, -
such haste to conquer Time, whose ride’s askew.
Three hours leisure, then, without ado,
the day departs, leaves most deprived of breath.
Who'd buck the trend bends in the end to Death -
what sense retains 'unto thyself be true'?
Three hours for music, films or television –
no wonder Man’s case-study for derision!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Anchorless and Engulfed
Two who each other barely knew -
though both drew down delinquency
some streets apart, are past, and few
shall etch sketch wretched memory.
Two travelled on lines parallel
while wheeled real reel of history,
banned reel ran out span's tocsin bell
tolled once to tell eternity
‘Bonjour, ma mie, je t'aime, adieu! '
The mocking bird of Destiny
nests but a moment. All falls through
before each earth-bound entity
grasp pain's pain glass a second, spell
life's sensitivity to see
things in perspective ere Death's knell
engulfs hopes in Styx misery.
Confined upon Earth's ark our zoo
builds up its bars too readily.
Why all the fuss and bother to
paint rosy hues enticingly
when threescore ten years pass pell-mell,
too few attain vain century,
and those that do weak souls would sell
for one more week's dichotomy.
Upon Life's cruise a motley crew
free choice demands, yet few feel free,
awash with superstitious spew,
how few refuse to bend the knee?
The ‘finger writes' and then farewell!
A door to which there is no key
was ever veiled when curtains fell,
'and then no more of thee and me.'
'Time out! ' Reflection's hard to chew
in context where modernity
accelerates change [st]range most rue,
soon redefines autonomy,
confines empowerment to brew
disinformation debility,
losing second thoughts' review
of truth till last breath's verity
renders verdict curlicue
on humankind's inanity.
Climate out of kilter new
climactic catastrophe
prepares, ice-melt sends shockwaves through
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I Should Be Allowed To Think
I saw the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I saw the worst bands of my generation
Applied by magic marker to dry wall
I should be allowed to shoot my mouth off
I should have a call in show
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I am not allowed
To ever come up with a single original thought
I am not allowed
To meet the criminal government agent who oppresses me
I was the worst hope of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to share my feelings
I should be allowed to feel
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim one occurs to me
But sadly, this can never be
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Captivated Is The Audience
Something occurs,
And from minds can not be excused.
Comments made by those thought elite...
Seem very disconnected from humanity.
'We're concerned about the little people.'
Says one sent to speak and represents sleaze.
'Those people' who initiate wickedness...
To leave it and deceive.
Those who use treachery to bleed the Earth.
And yacht about with venom dripping,
From privileged mouths.
Are about to be themselves seized with grief.
Something occurs,
And from minds can not be excused.
Comments made by those thought elite...
Seem very disconnected from humanity.
And this has been made clear,
To every aspect that makes life a possibility.
When leechers perceive and believe,
They are more powerful than that which has created them...
Captivated is the audience that witnesses their demise.
Something occurs,
And from minds can not be excused.
Comments made by those thought elite...
Seem very disconnected from humanity.
And captivated is the audience,
That witnesses their demise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Staying Swift On My Feet Keeps Me Peaceful
You snooze you lose,
That's it.
I'm no longer in the business,
In keeping you updated...
As to what occurs,
In front of your doorstep.
I've had to break away from that habit,
That addicted you...
To select which objections,
You preferred to accept.
When you allowed them to happen.
And I annoyed you as you slept!
Oh no...
Some things in my life,
I just had to let go!
You snooze you lose,
That's it.
I'm no longer in the business,
In keeping you updated...
As to what occurs,
In front of your doorstep.
And too tired have I become,
From excusing myself through it...
When from you I would leave.
Only to return.
To find you still unaware and fast asleep.
And getting disrespect,
Coming at me from both ends...
I could no longer justify.
You can close your eyes and keep them closed,
For all I care.
Today I don't have those concerns.
You snooze you lose,
That's it.
I'm no longer in the business,
In keeping you updated...
As to what occurs,
In front of your doorstep.
I have learned,
Staying swift on my feet keeps me peaceful.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poetic Standard
Poetic Standard
Poetic inspiration must supply
Open sourced resourcefulness, may not
Exist in half-light, cuts the gordian knot
That holds back harmony from inner eye.
Insidious compromise can't satisfy
Creative impulse that rejects as blot
Secondary lot where, half forgot,
Tired lines block, lock life's vista, dreams deny.
All hesitation acts out living lie
None should accept to temper daily rot,
Dread time-trap snapped shut once one bolt is shot.
Aloft soar, draw from intuitions, fly!
Read much, hunch heed, rise from rant's rubbish vent,
Dare to revise, creative dance invent.
Skein poetic weaves life's leaves. Flash wink
Turns think through ink to stage fulfilling page
As insight mixes music, words wild, sage.
No Tao is tainted that cues tone-true link
Descriptive and instructive, scanned in sync.
Although some self-styled poets feel form's cage,
Review Stravinsky's words, all doubts assuage.
Deny blank prose poetic rose crown. Drink
Pierian deep, sip not lip-service brink,
Or compensate for feelings trapped to wage
Ego war against injustice guaged,
To ease maimed spirit's claims of unfair stink.
Inside poetic process progress make,
Craft well, rewrite, reword from second take.
6 September 2009 robi3_1908_robi3_0845 ASX_IXX
Acrostic Sonnet POETIC STANDARD STANDARD POETIC
See notes and related poems below
__________________
Pierian Spring
The Pierian Spring from greek mythology is held the metaphorical source of knowledge about the arts and science. Pieria, ancient Macedonia, was the location of Mount Olympus, the seat of worship of Orpheus and the Muses. The spring is believed to be a fountain of knowledge that inspires whoever drinks from it.
Alexander Pope - Essay on Criticism
A little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring;
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Soul Searching
Everyday I stand before the mirror
gazing self
other side of mine croons,
"seven sins
have already taken toll of you
terrorism of every dimension
becoming the eight
what is to expect now
from you? "
It questions
simple and straight.
"Daily you are scarred
daily you are battered
daily you are raped
daily you are butchered
daily you are crossed
daily you are martyred.
So
Are you dead?
Nay, I dread
you are not yet, "
whispers my mirrored friend.
"Anarchy has no place
eight sin has no grace
let more sunshine be there
for everyone and everywhere
undo mean human mentality
let darkness not prevail
blinding us till eternity."
"Rise, rise, rise once again
showing your prowess
hold tightly drooping reins
humanity with humility breeds
great civilisations
don't dump into dustbin
God's own creations."
"Being humane you can't be dead
wake up and change the mindset
for the sake of humanity
violence you shed."
"Humanize me.
Your own ugly side
should also possess
heart and soul
[...] Read more
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Persuaded to Remember
Wouldn't it be a fantastic discovery,
If it was uncovered...
That the process of thought,
Was a natural occurrence.
And human beings could actually do this,
Independently.
To forget with a forgiveness!
And all bitterness,
Is dropped.
Without assistance to connect dots.
Or persuaded to remember,
Something in their minds to find...
With a need for recurring conflicts to stir,
Nonstop!
Wouldn't it be a fantastic discovery,
If it was uncovered...
That the process of thought,
Was a natural occurrence.
And human beings could actually do this,
Independently.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Earn Happiness, Get tuned to the fact 'This too shall pass
This too shall pass
Is the famous adage
And is inscribed on a golden finger ring
Which, when worn
Changes the mood of the person
He/she turns sad, if happy before wearing
He/she turns joyful, if in sorrow before wearing
The requirement is that
The wearer should read the inscription
Message is simple
And telling great many things
It says
Things are changing and always
Are in a passing mode to another phase
Examine your life
It should be having
Enough number of samples
Depicting this message
Your entire life has been
Only a passing of events
The day you were born
Was celebrated and it passed
You were a kid and brought
Happiness and joy to your elders
And those days to passed
Milestones in your life
Whether celebrated, suffered, or mourned
All passed
Events which were pleasant at the time of its occurrence
Turned otherwise with the change in time
And similarly sad events
Had reasons for your joy later
Do not get stuck to an emotional impact
Of an occurrence
As the same event
Will make you feel totally otherwise
As time passes
Check your emotions
Do not overindulge any emotion
Understand that
Over a period of time
Things shape up
[...] Read more
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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