Fashions, after all, are only induced epidemics.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
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Fashions are the only induced epidemics, proving that epidemics can be induced by tradesmen.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
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Alternating Time-Scales
alternating time-scales
impose creeping ultra realities
upon narcotic selected dreams
socially construed realities
suddenly material plane
is as instant immaterial
as a universe of atoms
containing dimensional illusion
of solidity inherent
in each specific object
defined in nature's webs
all life indeed is but a dream
until the nightmare comes
on earth fear four horsemen
ride pitilessly over dark third
world catastrophe countries
dreams perish within war realms
perish in hungry mouths
death starved flesh minds
famine reinforced
with cholera,
malaria, diarrhea, typhoid,
scarlet fever, measles
compete as cyclic epidemics
epidemics sweep across aids
ravished infected Africa weeps;
remorseless west television watches
skulls gleam inanimate
in sunlight unseen by lost legions
already needlessly dead;
unmoved west television watches
when will humanity
pass a compassion
law forbidding indifference?
instead of deleting differences
ethnic groups religions
due to traditional values
of rage, anger, hate, greed,
coveting land resources
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Dog
THE key, which opes the chest of hoarded gold.
Unlocks the heart that favours would withhold.
To this the god of love has oft recourse,
When arrows fail to reach the secret source,
And I'll maintain he's right, for, 'mong mankind,
Nice presents ev'ry where we pleasing find;
Kings, princes, potentates, receive the same,
And when a lady thinks she's not to blame,
To do what custom tolerates around;
When Venus' acts are only Themis' found,
I'll nothing 'gainst her say; more faults than one,
Besides the present, have their course begun.
A MANTUAN judge espoused a beauteous fair:
Her name was Argia:--Anselm was her care,
An aged dotard, trembling with alarms,
While she was young, and blessed with seraph charms.
But, not content with such a pleasing prize,
His jealousy appeared without disguise,
Which greater admiration round her drew,
Who doubtless merited, in ev'ry view,
Attention from the first in rank or place
So elegant her form, so fine her face.
'TWOULD endless prove, and nothing would avail,
Each lover's pain minutely to detail:
Their arts and wiles; enough 'twill be no doubt,
To say the lady's heart was found so stout,
She let them sigh their precious hours away,
And scarcely seemed emotion to betray.
WHILE at the judge's, Cupid was employed,
Some weighty things the Mantuan state annoyed,
Of such importance, that the rulers meant,
An embassy should to the Pope be sent.
As Anselm was a judge of high degree,
No one so well embassador could be.
'TWAS with reluctance he agreed to go,
And be at Rome their mighty Plenipo';
The business would be long, and he must dwell
Six months or more abroad, he could not tell.
Though great the honour, he should leave his dove,
Which would be painful to connubial love.
Long embassies and journeys far from home
Oft cuckoldom around induce to roam.
THE husband, full of fears about his wife;
Exclaimed--my ever--darling, precious life,
I must away; adieu, be faithful pray,
[...] Read more
poem by La Fontaine
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Indulged By Extravagance
With a dose of sugar.
And lots of forget-me-nots...
Haven't we all been induced with fantasy?
Feeling 'exclusive'
And detriment free!
Able to do what we wish and please.
While feeding on an ignorance,
Indulged by extravagance.
As we pass judgements with glee.
Haven't we all been hypnotized,
By a way of life,
We believe produces jealousy.
And now we find we are behind the times.
With a feasting of our gluttony...
Causing a democracy,
To bleed from an endless greed.
With a desire that reality,
Is a delusion someday will go away!
With a dose of sugar.
And lots of forget-me-nots...
Haven't we all been induced,
With fantasy?
Feeling 'exclusive'
That our needs we feed,
Are detriment free!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No One Seems To Be Pretending
Quietly,
A legitimized insanity...
Has been secretly induced.
It has to be.
Since there is nothing else left,
To explain the rise of stupidity.
Has there been an innoculation performed,
To reduce the appearance of common sense?
A poisoning done of logic has taken place.
And is obvious as an abundance of nonsense...
Has clearly arrived,
And making felt its presence.
Remember those days,
When calling anyone ignorant would offend?
The joys of those days have gone.
Ignorance is 'in' and quite fashionable.
And marketed as a prized possession.
No one dares to leave their home,
Without displaying they are equipped with it.
Quietly,
A legitimized insanity...
Has been secretly induced.
It has to be.
Since there is nothing else left,
To explain the rise of stupidity.
And no one seems to be pretending,
That a loss of a thinking process is temporary.
To scream something profoundly intelligent,
That reeks with absolute truth...
Today,
Would land on deaf ears...
Plugged permanently into listening to rap music.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Bagman's Dog, : Mr. Peters's Story
Stant littore Puppies!-- Virgil.
It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.
The Bagman taught him many a trick;
He would carry and fetch, and run after a stick,
Could well understand
The word of command,
And appear to doze
With a crust on his nose,
Till the Bagman permissively waved his hand:
Then to throw up and catch it he never would fail,
As he sat up on end, on his little cock-tail.
Never was puppy so bien instruit,
Or possess'd of such natural talent as he;
And as he grew older,
Every beholder
Agreed he grew handsomer, sleeker, and bolder.--
Time, however, his wheels we may clog,
Wends steadily still with onward jog,
And the cock-tail'd puppy's a curly-tail'd dog!
When just at the time,
He was reaching his prime,
And all thought he'd be turning out something sublime,
One unlucky day,
How, no one could say,
Whether some soft liaison induced him to stray,
Or some kidnapping vagabond coax'd him away,
He was lost to the view
Like the morning dew;
He had been, and was not -- that's all that they knew;
And the Bagman storm'd, and the Bagman swore,
As never a Bagman had sworn before;
But storming or swearing but little avails,
To recover lost dogs with great curly tails.--
In a large paved court, close by Billiter Square,
Stands a mansion old, but in thorough repair,
The only strange thing, from the general air
Of its size and appearance, is, how it got there;
In front is a short semicircular stair
Of stone steps,-- some half score,--
Then you reach the ground floor,
With a shell-pattern'd architrave over the door.
[...] Read more
poem by Richard Harris Barham
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Men More A Fool Than Beasts
Whenever the food was served to a dog,
It was done after a stroke of the bell.
The sight of the food induced its saliva.
The sound of the bell induced the saliva.
When the bell rang with no food to follow
Then too came out the saliva from it.
Women excite men; things they wear excite.
Names they bear excite; so do female voice.
Man is conditioned by sex perversion.
Women not in sight, then too will excite
Him anything that sounds feminine.
More a fool than a dog is the learned man.
12.09.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ugly Truth
The ugly truth, the shadow that wonders alone,
It’s the dark space in the corner of the room where love isn’t shown,
The ignored people whose personality is ignored and unknown,
It’s the face in the mirror that cracks on sight,
The same mirror where society reflects beauty and glamour where self loathing ignites,
Anorexia, plastic surgeries, implants, anabolic steroids, self destruction, and despite,
The natural beauty of humankind destroyed by artificial cosmetics,
Similar to drugs that induces the nonexistent pain from anesthetics,
It’s the poisonous salt induced in self healing known as tartar emetic,
Invisible, pain underlined the surface to project beauty from self destruction inside to route the beauty out,
But the ugly truth is, cosmetics is the bud in plants that doesn’t sprout,
It’s the mirror that humanity looks into every day with doubt,
The doubt that induces perfection from the outside,
It’s the disease inducing shallow emotions from humans worldwide,
Victimized is the people who will never know the pleasure of someday being a groom or bride,
It’s that same cracked mirror that reflects self loathing and the tears we cry,
It’s the anxiety induced from outside the mirror in the room where in the corner we hide,
The smile that is looked as a broken masterpiece from the finest art,
The ugly truth, where beauty from inside the heart is ignored from the start,
It’s the puzzle of human life, where natural beauty of personality is ripped apart,
Embarrassed to be seen by others all they see is broken reflection of self,
In a glass of bottled that they store on the shelf,
Even through glass the reflection stands still where they can see themselves,
Through the smile beyond the face it’s a silent weep of pain and fear,
From the eyes to their ears every night they shed bloody tears,
Not the typical blood made of red matter, it’s the tears bottled up in emotion that’s crystal clear,
The self loathing from the inability to find love, the cause when the end draws near,
Can’t escape the matrix of cosmetic pain, every waking minute outside with others they experience fear,
Unable to identify how to look human, Halloween is every day,
Awaking out of a dream to be perfect, the costume of that beautiful angel in the dream they put on with a closed mind they display,
Where the reality results in a drought in from mixing a blowtorch and hair spray,
The event that causes a ring of fire around the Earth burning everything in sight,
The manifest of when the walls close in, but the mirror stands still cracked but upright,
A masquerade ruined by the drought caused by spite,
The parade rained on by the precipitation of lightning and fire combined,
But forever the broken mirror inside the closing rings stands inclined,
The broken cracks in the same shape as the lightning in the night,
The ugly truth, bottled emotion correlated with the mirror that’s upright
Self esteem is the iron grip that can twist off the top of the bottle,
We dig down deep and can’t project the good inside even with momentum in full throttle,
Even still the personality inside is covered by a towel,
Where the ugly truth lies within an open mind,
The mirror will set fire forever within due time,
And the ugly truth through personality will turn beautiful and shine,
The broken cracked mirror will rebuild itself into a reflection clear like waters in the most beautiful stream,
Our mouths open with the most beautiful voice that we sing,
As opposed to opening the bottle of emotion through hoarse screams,
The same waters that carries the world once set fire moves upstream,
Something as an epiphany is what it seems,
Beauty projected through inner beauty with self esteem it brings,
[...] Read more
poem by Kurt Kacich
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A human being fashions his consequences as surely as he fashions his goods or his dwelling his goods or his dwelling. Nothing that he says, thinks or does is without consequences.
quote by Norman Cousins
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The Nakedness
Why should i see the nakedness of my people in the name of modern fashions?
For the 'Acapulco acts of fashions' had enhanced immorality;
But, they are too blind to see.
They do have mirrors in their dressing rooms but,
They always come out dressed almost naked to the public! !
And now you understand what i am saying.
Yes, everybody knows the message!
But they are too blind to practise what is right;
And the whole world is now deceived in the name of naked fashion.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Girls Were Made To Take Care Of Boys
Ralph blane
Girls were made to take care of boys
To be kind and dutiful
Hmmm...
Girls were made to take care of boys
Made to share their sorrows
Made to share their joys
Made to help and guide them
With ever a patient hand
Made to give affection
In the right direction
(always understand)
Now boys may think they take care of girls
Just because they pass on their fashions and their curls
But Ive always found
Its just the other way around
(other way around)
If you need the girl
And declare you do
(tell her that you need her)
Shell be there
To take care of you
(shell be there)
(now boys may think they take care of girls
Just because theyre clever with their fashions and their curls)
But Ive always found
Its just the other way around
song performed by Billie Holiday
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Heart & Soul
(charlie skarbek / rick blaskey)
Duet with cilla black
Ooh, hoo
It was back in sixty-three
We were young and we were free
Thought the world was really ours for the taking
We had heart and we had soul
Ooh, we lived for rock and roll
And didnt we, didnt we, didnt we do it?
Fashions come and fashions go
We were there so we should know
I sometimes smile when I think of how I looked then
Burning candles at both ends
Hoping time would make amends
And didnt we, didnt we, didnt we do it?
With heart and soul
The world is yours, the stars are too
If you bring out the best in you
With heart and soul
Whatever youve been wantin to do
Heart and soul will see it through, oh, ho
Now were older nothings changed
Just some things are rearranged
But the message is the same as when we started
Were gettin stronger everyday
Looking back now we can say
Didnt we, didnt we, didnt we do it? , ahh
With heart and soul
The world is yours, the stars are too
If you bring out the best in you
With heart and soul
Whatever youve been wantin to do
Heart and soul will see it through, ahh
See it through, see it through, ooh, hoo
Ooh, hoo, sing it, sing it, sing it, oh, yeah
With heart and soul
The world is yours, the stars are too
If you bring out the best in you
With heart and soul
Whatever youve been wantin to do
Heart and soul will see it through
Oh, ho, it will see, will see, will see it through, ooh, hoo
You can see it, you can see it, see it, see it through
You can see it, you can see it
song performed by Dusty Springfield
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She Gives Me Religion
Down the mystic avenue I walk again
Remembering the days gone by
And Im knocking with my heart
And all the girls walk by
In all their summer fashions
And the churchbells chime
On a summer sunday afternoon
She gives me religion
She gives me religion
And the angel of imagination
Opened up my gate
She said come right in
I saw you knocking with your heart.
And the angel of imagination
She lit your fiery vision bright
Let your flame burn into the night
I saw you knocking with your heart
She gives me religion
She gives me religion
Its all right
And all the girls walk by
In all their summer fashions
And the churchbells chime
On a summer sunday afternoon
Its all right
She gives me religion
I said she gives me religion
And Im knocking and Im knocking with my heart
And Im knocking, knocking with my heart
And Im knocking with my heart
song performed by Van Morrison
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Ive Had Enough
You were under the impression
You were under the impression
That when you were walking forward
That when you were walking forward
Youd end up further onward
Youd end up further onward
But things aint quite that simple.
But things aint quite that simple.
You got altered information
You got altered information
You were told to not take chances
You were told to not take chances
You missed out on new dances
You missed out on new dances
Now youre losing all your dimples.
Now youre losing all your dimples.
My jackets gonna be cut and slim and checked,
My jackets gonna be cut and slim and checked,
Maybe a touch of seersucker, with an open neck.
Maybe a touch of seersucker, with an open neck.
I ride a g.s. scooter with my hair cut neat,
I ride a g.s. scooter with my hair cut neat,
Wear my wartime coat in the wind and sleet.
Wear my wartime coat in the wind and sleet.
Love reign oer me.
Love reign oer me.
Love reign oer me.
Love reign oer me.
Love.
Love.
Ive had enough of living
Ive had enough of living
Ive had enough of dying
Ive had enough of dying
Ive had enough of smiling
Ive had enough of smiling
Ive had enough of crying
Ive had enough of crying
Ive taken all the high roads
Ive taken all the high roads
Ive squandered and Ive saved
Ive squandered and Ive saved
Ive had enough of childhood
Ive had enough of childhood
Ive had enough of graves...
Ive had enough of graves...
Get a job and fight to keep it,
Get a job and fight to keep it,
Strike out to reach a mountain.
Strike out to reach a mountain.
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
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Cut My Hair
Why should I care
Why should I care
If I have to cut my hair?
If I have to cut my hair?
Ive got to move with the fashions
Ive got to move with the fashions
Or be outcast.
Or be outcast.
I know I should fight
I know I should fight
But my old man hes really alright,
But my old man hes really alright,
And Im still living at home
And Im still living at home
Even though it wont last.
Even though it wont last.
Zoot suit, white jacket with side vents
Zoot suit, white jacket with side vents
Five inches long.
Five inches long.
Im out on the street again
Im out on the street again
And Im leaping along.
And Im leaping along.
Im dressed right for a beach fight,
Im dressed right for a beach fight,
But I just cant explain
But I just cant explain
Why that uncertain feeling is still
Why that uncertain feeling is still
Here in my brain.
Here in my brain.
The kids at school
The kids at school
Have parents that seem so cool.
Have parents that seem so cool.
And though I dont want to hurt them
And though I dont want to hurt them
Mine want me their way.
Mine want me their way.
I clean my room and my shoes
I clean my room and my shoes
But my mother found a box of blues,
But my mother found a box of blues,
And there doesnt seem much hope
And there doesnt seem much hope
Theyll let me stay.
Theyll let me stay.
Zoot suit, etc.
Zoot suit, etc.
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
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O’Grady’s Little Girl
Her hair was dark and curly, floatin’ to the saddle bow,
Her laugh was frank and girlish, and her voice was sweet and low;
When I was one-and-twenty, sure my heart was in a whirl,
Ridin’ neath the blossomed gum-trees with O’Grady’s little girl.
And ah! The dear grey eyes of her all truth and purity
What a beacon-light to goodness, such a colleen’s eyes can be!
The blazed a track to Heaven for me an’ it struck me like a blow
When O’Grady left the township, just twenty years ago.
In those years I’ve grown and prospered-sure the township’s half me own-
But my heart’s been empty-aching-since she left me all alone.
Now we’ve got a “Back-to-She-Oak’ week, celebratin’ royally,
And Nora’s coming home again, to join the revelry.
I’ll know her by here wild-rose face, her floatin’ curling hair,
By the neat black skirt and frilly blouse she always loved to wear,
I’ve never looked at wimmin since, but at the township ball
I’ll tell her all my faithful love-my hopes, and dreams and all.
Oh! the band is playing gaily, but alone I sit apart,
Watching all the merry dancers, with a sore and aching heart;
Gaily old friends greet each other, but my head is in a whirl,
As I watcher her twirling past me-Dan O’Grady’s little girl.
She’s grown stout-she’s got a shingle-and her skirt’s just on her knee
Sure the girl that I remember’s not the girl she used to be,
And the merry lilting music ringing out into the night,
Seems to mock my dying fancies and my dream of lost delight.
Now the band is playing softly-‘tis the waltz we used to know,
And I’ll have to ask her for it, for the sake of long ago,
But ah! The dear grey eyes of her, uplifted now to me,
And the unchanged heart beneath them, full of truth and purity.
‘Tis a woman’s heart that matters, fashions come and fashions go,
And what signifies a shingle, for a shingle sure can grow,
All my lonely years are over, I’m as happy as an earl,
Looking forward to the future with O’Grady’s little girl.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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Please youreslf
I think that ladies should ignore
The dictates of the fashion trade
The doubtful claims of haute couture
by so called experts often made.
A wise lady will choose her clothes
to show her assets at their best.
Not as the expert all suppose
to look exactly like the rest.
Dress to suit your face and figure
There is no need to buy in haste
clothes which make your rivals snigger.
Have faith in your own good taste.
Women come in many shades
different shapes and different sizes.
Mature matrons and slim young maids.
Every one that some man prizes.
A well dressed women who stands out.
Knows full well what she’s about.
She won’t let the experts tell her
how to dress to please her feller.
Some women have good fashion sense
but many lack the confidence
to tell the experts to get lost.
They can dress well at half the cost.
Fashion labels may sell clothes
but only silly girls suppose.
Only the latest style will do.
When obviously it is not true.
Suit yourself in the way you dress.
Choose the clothes that will suit you
If you do you will impress
in the way you ought to do.
Let all the fashion gurus prate
But don’t believe a word they say.
You know that you will look great
when you dress in your own way
Fashions come and fashions go.
You know when you’re looking good
What do the so called experts know? .
Ignore them as you know you should.
[...] Read more
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Strategian
He was a military man
who waxed the ends of his moustache
A man must look the best he can.
He thought it added real panache.
He always kept his hair quite short,
his lantern jaw shaved to the bone.
But his moustache or so he thought
was at its best when left alone.
It was his greatest pride and joy
It added something to his face.
He thought the ladies might enjoy.
With every whisker kept in place.
With moustache wax freshly applied
and just a hint of fine cologne.
He was completely satisfied
with what he tried and what he’d done.
The ladies did not seem to care.
About his well dressed upper lip
It seemed they would prefer it bare
for all his clever showman ship
Clean shaven men were all the rage.
The fair sex had the final say
So he shaved off his appendage.
The ladies always get their way.
A soldier knows when to retreat
and make a change to his campaign.
More preferable than face defeat.
it will always grow again.
When fashions change as fashions do.
He is a military man
But he can change his point of view
as quickly as the ladies can.
.07/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Leave off the Agony in Style
Come all ye good people, listen to me, pray,
While I speak of fashion and style of today;
If you will notice, kind hearts it will beguile,
To keep in fashion and putting on style.
Chorus --
Leave off the agony, leave off style,
Unless you've got money by you all the while,
If you'll look about you you'll often have to smile,
To see so many people putting on style.
People in this country they think it is the best;
They work hard for money and lay it out in dress;
They think of the future with a pleasant smile,
And lay by no money while putting on style.
Chorus --
Some of the people will dress up so fine,
Will go out in company and have a pleasant time.
Will rob themselves of food, perhaps, all the while,
Sake of following fashions and putting on style.
Chorus --
I love to see the people dress neat and clean,
Likewise follow fashions, but not extremes;
Some friends will find it better in future awhile,
To lay by some money while putting on style.
Chorus --
Gentlemen on the jury decides the criminal's fate;
I pray you turn from wickedness before it is too late;
Sad, indeed, would be your friends to hear your name reviled,
Better be truly honest though putting on style.
Chorus --
Leave off the agony, leave off style,
Unless you've got money by you all the while.
If you look about you you'll often have to smile,
To see so many poor people putting on style.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Die Hard Valley Girls
The comet came and almost everybody died
Leaving cannibals and angry red skies
Two valley girls survived, hiding behind steal
Now their kicking ass wearing Prada high heals
They have no school but they have no dates
There's only one guy and he might be gay
Fortunately for them the malls are unlocked
And Bloomingdales has super killer mark offs
Explosions fly
Zombies die,
the girls score pastime
Cause nothing's going to stop
Die hard Valley Girls
Now they dance to the swing of Cindi Lauper
Trying on outfits for Heather Locklear
Cause their trapped in the past with 80's fashions
Looking like victims from a Hair Metal album
In between the lipstick and free mascara
Zombie stalk boys try to shoot their derrieres
It becomes a killing zone in the women's section
A bullet feast opera ripping last season's fashions
Explosions fly
Zombies die,
the girls score pastime
Cause nothing's going to stop
Die hard Valley Girls
Sam's got shoes and Regie has a Mac
but everybody knows Uzis are the best
And when you're up against zombie hormonal issues
The best offence is hot girls who like to make blisters
Now crazy scientists want to suck their blood
Trying to save their lives with a magic serum
But fortunately for them that boy wasn't gay
And now he's gonna help them save the human race
[...] Read more
poem by Kevin Patrick
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