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Simplicity should not be identified with bareness.

quote by Felix Adler
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A Fine Culture

They were indeed simple people
the people of the east
A FINE CULTURE they did have
the people of the east

A FINE CULTURE
the east should have given the rest
when the west brought out the 'machine'
the east brought out the 'human'

Today's world is not lacking in machine
Today's world is lacking in human

Today's east is sending 'productive men' all over
the east should have sent 'human men' all over
How did the east stray?
when did it loose it's way?

The east then found everything in simplicity
simplicity was it's strength and beauty
simplicity gave the east it's integrity
simplicity never ever gave the east an inferiority

Today the east mocks the west
the 'material' wealth of the west..has
put to rest...the
true spirit of the east

We blame it on simplicity
we say we were plundered due to our simplicity
a handed down book on simplicity
only became a liability..we say

What the west had gained
everybody did gain...the 'machine'
what the east had lost
everbody did loose...the 'human'

Today what are we in
an 'un human' man is managing a dangerous dumb 'machine'...and
THAT'S THE DANGER WE ARE IN...without
a fine culture

poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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The Higher Education

(Harvard's prestige in football is a leading factor. The best players in the leading preparatory schools prefer to study at Cambridge, where they can earn fame on the gridiron. They do not care to be identified with Yale and Princeton.--JOE VILA in the Evening Sun.)

"Father," began the growing youth,
"Your pleading finds me deaf;
Although I know you speak the truth
About the course at Shef.
But think you that I have no pride,
To follow such a trail?
I cannot be identified
With Princeton or with Yale."

"Father," began another lad,
Emerging from his prep;
"I know you are a Princeton grad,
But the coaches have no pep.
But though the Princeton profs provide
Fine courses to inhale;
I cannot be identified
With Princeton or with Yale."

"I know," he said, "that Learning helps
A lot of growing chaps;
That Yale has William Lyon Phelps,
And Princeton Edward Capps.
But while, within the Football Guide,
The Haughton hosts prevail,
I cannot be identified
With Princeton or with Yale."

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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When Obstacles Are Identified

When obstacles are identified in your life...
There is no need to keep them around as souvenirs.
They are obstacles.
Get rid of them.
Whether they are mental or physical.
Moving and breathing on two legs or not.
Tolerate them or keep them blocked out,
If you wish.
As if they did not exist!
And yet you allow them to persist.

When obstacles are identified in your life...
There is no need to keep them around as souvenirs.
Or classify them as friends.
Or habits you can not do without!
To keep you hemmed in with your life knocked out.
When obstacles are identified in your life...
Get rid of them.
Befriending them is not advisable.
Unless you suffer from a need to bleed?
And that's sad.

Not hopeless!
But still sad.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!

Henry David Thoreau in Walden, or Life in the woods
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Lisa

I admire you from afar
You've changed the way I see
I used to think that I
Should make you be like me
But after this short time
Watching what you do
I realise that I
Should strive to be like you

Whenever I am near you
I tread so awkwardly
Afraid someone may steal you
I guard you jealously

Then sing the world your praises
Let everybody know
That I just saw the future
A place I want to go

I admire you from afar
You've changed the way I see
I used to think that I
Should make you be like me
But after this short time
Watching what you do
I realise that I
Should strive to be like you

I hear you when you're talking
Untouched simplicity
Alive with expectations
In search of what might be

I admire you from afar
You've changed the way I see
I used to think that I
Should make you be like me
But after this short time
Watching what you do
I realise that I
Should strive to be like you

Then sing the world your praises
Let everybody know
That I just saw the future
A place I want to go

I hear you when you're talking
Untouched simplicity
Alive with expectations

[...] Read more

song performed by UB40 from Guns In The Ghetto
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Superlative Story

Superlative Story

I Syntaxical Sequence

II Strange Stanza Succession Starts

III Scenario Synopsis

IV Sensuality, sense, sensibility,

V Substitute Spousal Suggestions

VI Seesaw Simplicity: Seraglio Simularities Spurned

VII Solution

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I SYNTAXICAL SEQUENCE

Special scansion ‘S’ syllabic
specious solicisms scraps,
solo solving sounds strabismic,
syllogistic systole scraps.
Syllables spring, shuffle, scuttle,
skittle syntax, scintillate
syntonically sans snuffle, shuttle –
synonyms shake sides, spine straight.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding
senses sweeps, song swifter swims,
succulent succession seeding
substitutions, surface skims.
Scrupulous semantics subtle
switchback spiral, summarize,
seek solutions smart, scrolled, supple,
solve set spectrum's smallish size.

Synonymous synchronising
sympathetic symphony
scores - Socratic symbolizing –
swivelling sonority.
Scansion salvo salvo scansion
strong succeeds, succeeding sends
successors streamlined sampling surging –
sanction seems so slight, scourge spends.

Systematic symbol spreading
'sses something sacred, seeks, -

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Book Sixth [Cambridge and the Alps]

THE leaves were fading when to Esthwaite's banks
And the simplicities of cottage life
I bade farewell; and, one among the youth
Who, summoned by that season, reunite
As scattered birds troop to the fowler's lure,
Went back to Granta's cloisters, not so prompt
Or eager, though as gay and undepressed
In mind, as when I thence had taken flight
A few short months before. I turned my face
Without repining from the coves and heights
Clothed in the sunshine of the withering fern;
Quitted, not loth, the mild magnificence
Of calmer lakes and louder streams; and you,
Frank-hearted maids of rocky Cumberland,
You and your not unwelcome days of mirth,
Relinquished, and your nights of revelry,
And in my own unlovely cell sate down
In lightsome mood--such privilege has youth
That cannot take long leave of pleasant thoughts.

The bonds of indolent society
Relaxing in their hold, henceforth I lived
More to myself. Two winters may be passed
Without a separate notice: many books
Were skimmed, devoured, or studiously perused,
But with no settled plan. I was detached
Internally from academic cares;
Yet independent study seemed a course
Of hardy disobedience toward friends
And kindred, proud rebellion and unkind.
This spurious virtue, rather let it bear
A name it now deserves, this cowardice,
Gave treacherous sanction to that over-love
Of freedom which encouraged me to turn
From regulations even of my own
As from restraints and bonds. Yet who can tell--
Who knows what thus may have been gained, both then
And at a later season, or preserved;
What love of nature, what original strength
Of contemplation, what intuitive truths
The deepest and the best, what keen research,
Unbiassed, unbewildered, and unawed?

The Poet's soul was with me at that time;
Sweet meditations, the still overflow
Of present happiness, while future years
Lacked not anticipations, tender dreams,
No few of which have since been realised;
And some remain, hopes for my future life.
Four years and thirty, told this very week,

[...] Read more

poem by William Wordsworth
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'And yet,' demanded Councilor Barlow, 'what's he done Has he ever done a day's work in his life What great cause is he identified with' 'He's identified,' said the first speaker, 'with the great cause of cheering us all up.'

quote by Arnold Bennett
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Off Of a Blinded Rollercoaster Ride

It is a great feeling,
To live with peace of mind.
And not trying to find,
Either acceptance or approval.

When this blessing is identified...
Conflicts observed and heard,
Do not disturb!
Or come close to pinch a nerve.

When the blessing of peace of mind,
Becomes identified...
It solidifies one's right,
To get off of a blinded rollercoaster ride.

It is a great feeling,
To live with peace of mind.
And not trying to find,
Either acceptance or approval.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Definition Of Satisfaction

It can only be identified,
In this life...
As being what it is.

And many wish,
To re-label what exists...
As something different.
To perpetuate fresh arguments.

There will be debates updated.
With some left pouting,
To show a round of frowns...
Twisted down on poked out lips.

But...
It can only be identified,
In this life...
As beinf what it is!

And...
That is going to remain that way,
Until inventions are created and made...
To further confuse with dismay,
Our definition of satisfaction....
Some insist it fits and theirs to permanently stay.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Trash Can Hands

You think because you bought this record, you read a list of thanks you can judge our lives(you've identified)
You think because you bought the record, you read a list of thanks you've identified(you can judge out lives)
A favor we provide
Little forum boys with your polished cyber toys
I read your bucket comment
Your three piece bulletin
POUT POUT BOOO HOOO TALK TALK POUT BOO HOOO HOOO
How is out identity working out for you?
It's funny how you can justify me(us) on opinion
An idea that I do this for you
DXCBOY FIREKID
You know who you are(and what you do)
We wrote this song for you

song performed by Zao
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The Identity

Every flower that's ever lived
has had its bloom, then died.
The beauty was while blooming.
It's how it's identified.

Every love that's come about
has bloomed and never dies.
The beauty in this is the knowing
that it lasts after the goodbyes.

For love is stronger than 'death do us part.'
It stays with the one left behind.
And for the one that leaves and goes their way
You still are in their mind.

Only the body withers away.
It lived and than it died.
But like the flower that had its bloom,
Love is how it's identified.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Scripture of the Golden Eternity

1
Did I create that sky? Yes, for, if it was anything other than a conception in my mind I wouldnt have said 'Sky'-That is why I am the golden eternity. There are not two of us here, reader and writer, but one, one golden eternity, One-Which-It-Is, That-Which- Everything-Is.

2
The awakened Buddha to show the way, the chosen Messiah to die in the degradation of sentience, is the golden eternity. One that is what is, the golden eternity, or, God, or, Tathagata-the name. The Named One. The human God. Sentient Godhood. Animate Divine. The Deified One. The Verified One. The Free One. The Liberator. The Still One. The settled One. The Established One. Golden Eternity. All is Well. The Empty One. The Ready One. The Quitter. The Sitter. The Justified One. The Happy One.

3
That sky, if it was anything other than an illusion of my mortal mind I wouldnt have said 'that sky.' Thus I made that sky, I am the golden eternity. I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

4
I was awakened to show the way, chosen to die in the degradation of life, because I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

5
I am the golden eternity in mortal animate form.

6
Strictly speaking, there is no me, because all is emptiness. I am empty, I am non-existent. All is bliss.

7
This truth law has no more reality than the world.

8
You are the golden eternity because there is no me and no you, only one golden eternity.

9
The Realizer. Entertain no imaginations whatever, for the thing is a no-thing. Knowing this then is Human Godhood.

10
This world is the movie of what everything is, it is one movie, made of the same stuff throughout, belonging to nobody, which is what everything is.

11
If we were not all the golden eternity we wouldnt be here. Because we are here we cant help being pure. To tell man to be pure on account of the punishing angel that punishes the bad and the rewarding angel that rewards the good would be like telling the water 'Be Wet'-Never the less, all things depend on supreme reality, which is already established as the record of Karma earned-fate.

12
God is not outside us but is just us, the living and the dead, the never-lived and never-died. That we should learn it only now, is supreme reality, it was written a long time ago in the archives of universal mind, it is already done, there's no more to do.

13
This is the knowledge that sees the golden eternity in all things, which is us, you, me, and which is no longer us, you, me.

14
What name shall we give it which hath no name, the common eternal matter of the mind? If we were to call it essence, some might think it meant perfume, or gold, or honey. It is not even mind. It is not even discussible, groupable into words; it is not even endless, in fact it is not even mysterious or inscrutably inexplicable; it is what is; it is that; it is this. We could easily call the golden eternity 'This.' But 'what's in a name?' asked Shakespeare. The golden eternity by another name would be as sweet. A Tathagata, a God, a Buddha by another name, an Allah, a Sri Krishna, a Coyote, a Brahma, a Mazda, a Messiah, an Amida, an Aremedeia, a Maitreya, a Palalakonuh, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 would be as sweet. The golden eternity is X, the golden eternity is A, the golden eternity is /\, the golden eternity is O, the golden eternity is [ ], the golden eternity is t-h-e-g-o-l-d-e-n-e-t-e-r- n-i-t-y. In the beginning was the word; before the beginning, in the beginningless infinite neverendingness, was the essence. Both the word 'god' and the essence of the word, are emptiness. The form of emptiness which is emptiness having taken the form of form, is what you see and hear and feel right now, and what you taste and smell and think as you read this. Wait awhile, close your eyes, let your breathing stop three seconds or so, listen to the inside silence in the womb of the world, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, re-recognize the bliss you forgot, the emptiness and essence and ecstasy of ever having been and ever to be the golden eternity. This is the lesson you forgot.

15
The lesson was taught long ago in the other world systems that have naturally changed into the empty and awake, and are here now smiling in our smile and scowling in our scowl. It is only like the golden eternity pretending to be smiling and scowling to itself; like a ripple on the smooth ocean of knowing. The fate of humanity is to vanish into the golden eternity, return pouring into its hands which are not hands. The navel shall receive, invert, and take back what'd issued forth; the ring of flesh shall close; the personalities of long dead heroes are blank dirt.

16
The point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity.

17
It came on time.

[...] Read more

poem by Jack Kerouac
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Where woman lacks importance

Delivered and moulded by my mother,
I was identified with my father,
Who, delivered and moulded by mother,
Was identified with his father.

I go with my son; wife is an onlooker.
The son of my daughter I've no claim on.
In each generation, mother is removed
From the memory line of the family.

Let my name carry the name of mother
And of father behind it to the world.
Let me have the names of the grand mothers
And grandfathers on both sides in record.
14.10.2012

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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And...With The Secret Of Sins

It is unmistakably,
A feeling arriving from within.
When desires and wishes begin to connect,
And strongly identified...
With a drive that opens eyes wide,
To what 'has' to happen in discreetly taken steps...
That which only,
One's heart accepts.

And...
With the secret of sins,
Beginning untentionally implemented...
There is no stopping one craving and brave,
Having a taste that stays.
With employing deception...
If that's what it takes.

With the secret of sins committed,
And praying to be forgiven for them...
One acquires a thirst to achieve.
To sacrifice what is wrong or right.
And disregarding appearances of getting no rest...
On more than a few sleepless nights.

With a secret of sins committed,
And feeling guilt ridden within...
One knows a task has to be accomplished.
One so great the correctness of ways,
Must be forsaken.
To nibble on a wrong or two to chew...
The only thing felt one has to choose to do.

It is unmistakably,
A feeling arriving from within.
When desires and wishes begin to connect,
And strongly identified...
With a drive that opens eyes wide.

And it is with a secret of sins committed,
And feeling guilt ridden within...
One knows a task has to be accomplished.
One so great the correctness of ways,
Must be forsaken.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Betrayal of Humanity

One must be cautiously aware,
Of comments made...
In places infested with those who manifest,
A betrayal of humanity.

The people there are not easily identified.
Some use religious beliefs...
To deceive others to confide.
As pools of sincerity drenches their eyes.

One must be cautiously aware,
Of comments made...
In places infested with those who manifest,
A betrayal of humanity.

It is as if they plot against,
Those who express empathy.
And come to another's defense.
This they suspect as a leakage of weakness.
And they perceive a caring done,
From someone willing to expose...
Their heartfelt feelings.
And a campaign begins to ensure they are demeaned.

One must be cautiously aware,
Of comments made...
In places infested with those who manifest,
A betrayal of humanity.

The people there are not easily identified.
Some use religious beliefs...
To deceive others to confide.
As pools of sincerity drenches their eyes.
And a campaign begins to ensure they are demeaned.

Wizards of deception are trained.
And will do their best to protect delusions.
While attacks upon them,
Will be viciously claimed.
And a campaign begins to ensure they defame.

One must be cautiously aware,
Of comments made...
In places infested with those who manifest,
A betrayal of humanity.
These pests are all over the place.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Brilliance

Brilliance.
Some are told they have this,
When identified they may be different.
And then the pressure becomes theirs,
To make others believe and also be aware...
Of brilliance in their presence.
To stare but gone unshared.

Brilliance.
Some are told they have this,
When identified they may be different.
And then the pressure becomes theirs,
To make others believe and also be aware...
Of brilliance in their presence.
To stare but gone unshared.

'Please.
You have me subdued and I am not use to that.
Who are you someone new with no rules attached?

Is there someone here that can remove this person,
Out of my light?
Come show them their dimming significance,
Is not as brilliant as mine and what they do is not alright.
Not in my light!

Please.
You have me subdued and I am not use to that.
Who are you someone new with no rules attached? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Daring To Be Defeated

People refusing to listen,
Create their own dilemmas.
They believe an enforcement done,
Of their wishes...
Retrieves a satisfaction,
As expectations are identified.

They lie to themselves and expect understanding.
Foolish are their delusions.

But an acceptance to be corrected...
Is taken for criticisms refused to enhance a growth.
People like this want to feel protected,
Like a child caught in a lie.
With a tantrum to come that is provoked.

And the circumstances they must face,
They don't do that!
They rather run to hide inside their minds...
Where trappings of safety begin to take place.

'I don't care if you don't believe me.
I don't care...'
And alone they weep!

People refusing to listen,
Create their own dilemmas.
They believe an enforcement done,
Of their wishes...
Retrieves a satisfaction,
As expectations are identified.

A stripping to expose flaws,
Is difficult to do.
A willingness to be wounded...
Speeds up the advancing of a truth.

And when truth is denied,
For something less painful to receive and accept...
A maturity to gain becomes a stagnation repeated.
With a daring to be defeated...
Conquered by insecurities,
As a surrounding wall that falsely protects.

'I don't care if you don't believe me.
I don't care...'
And alone they weep!
Stubbornly affixed to their insecurities,
Keeping them appeased and weak!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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From Those Innocent Beginnings

My anger and how that is expressed,
Is inherited.
Yes!
From an initiation process.

My parents donated sperm and a womb.
With an implantation done.
Allowing my birth and breath to breathe.
With some uncomfortable yelling...
Heard by everyone.
So deliberate,
My lungs stunned!

And from those innocent beginnings,
I heard comments made...
About which side of the family I was most like.
From nose, to eye color...
And hair grade.

'...he's got 'good' hair like...? '

Who I reminded them of...
An uncle, or an aunt,
Or a relative held in 'Im not speaking to them'
Family capitivity!

With a temperment no one claimed.
Except bestowing upon me,
My father's first and last names!
With an understated but delared ownership.

I was 'his'...
When being 'hers'
Presented reasons to be pissed.
And, of course...
I was the receiver of those, 'If you weren't born comments.'
With an occasional running away from home added.
My sister and I were latchkey kids.
So we were the ones left...
Home alone sometimes.

To leave the required stamp of approval,
By a surrounding, dysfunctional environment.

Which upon reflection...
And observed after understanding,
That 'stirring up' of youthful independency...
Is the source of my success.
And I am happy as I age,
To confess it.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Remember Needs

Remember needs.
Focus not on familiar pleas of stress.
The ones identified as if invited guests.
Wish them away in mental protest.
Do not prioritize them as accepted.
They come to make their stay effective.

Remember your needs.
Place them on the top of your list,
As promises kept.
Reject those paces with routines met.
Reschedule all disappointments!
And have no regrets.

Don't be like the busiest of bees.
Taking opportunities,
To be stung and return stings!
Remove yourself from this living hell you dwell.
In spun hives you live to seek.
Feeling unrelaxed.
Without a deep breathing to release.
With a fear to do so...
Will eliminate a beating,
You secretly wish increased.

Just relax and live life.
Desiring to be free of grief.
Desire to be free and relieved.

Remove yourself from this living hell you dwell.
In spun hives you live to seek.
Feeling unrelaxed.
Without a deep breathing to release.
With a fear to do so...
Will eliminate a beating,
You secretly wish increased.

Remember needs.
Focus not on familiar pleas of stress.
The ones identified as if invited guests.
Wish them away in mental protest.
Do not prioritize them as accepted.
They come to make their stay effective.

Remember needs.
Relax and live life.
Desiring to be free of grief.
Desire to be free and relieved.
Remember needs.
Your needs.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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