Egos Addicted
Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.
How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!
Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.
And those elected to protect their 'treats',
Find they've become accountable...
To ease a reality upon these minds.
Teasing them with beliefs of victory!
When deceit and defeat...
Has surrounded them for sometime!
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!
How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Greed and Selflessness
Greed indiscriminately penalizes,
Selflessness is the ultimate panacea; for uniting all
innocuously harmonious; for centuries immemorial and
alike….
Greed baselessly tyrannizes,
Selflessness is an Omnipotent fabric; which
irrefutably transcends you above the resplendent
heavens; to be the unequivocal favorite of the
divine….
Greed ruthlessly snatches,
Selflessness is the only road to everlasting
prosperity; coalescing even the most salaciously
treacherous with the scent of the bountifully
bestowing soil….
Greed manipulatively stagnates,
Selflessness is the most priceless core of enthralling
existence; enlightening unassailable beams of hope; in
all those dwellings miserably impoverished; without
optimism and light….
Greed horrendously massacres,
Selflessness is an Omnisciently miraculous ointment;
which heals the most bizarre wounds of the
overwhelming rich and pathetically destitute; alike…
Greed uncouthly divests,
Selflessness is a enchantingly silken flower; which
disseminates the true spirit of mankind; to even the
most infinitesimal parts; of this fathomless globe….
Greed lethally poisons,
Selflessness is a grandiloquently mesmerizing sky;
which relentlessly showers the blessings of the
Almighty; upon all philanthropically benign….
Greed pulverizes beyond recognition,
Selflessness is a unendingly radiating horizon; which
brilliantly sparkles all night and day; with the
rainbow of unconquerable righteousness….
Greed maliciously obfuscates all truth,
Selflessness is the most Omnipresent harbinger of
celestial peace; unstoppably heading towards the
paradise of scintillating success….
Greed insidiously cripples,
Selflessness is a majestically flapping bird that
[...] Read more
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Im Addicted
1, 2, 3, 4!
Look around this dirty town
Drink it up till we fall down
Dont want to live forever this way
But its gonna have to do for today
Oh, Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Before that hurried call
I had my back against the wall
No, dont want to be shown
Go out and learn your own
Oh, Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
1, 2, 3, 4!
Before that hurried call
I had my back against the wall
No, dont want to be shown
Go out and learn your own
Oh, Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
Im addicted - as I want to be
song performed by Goo Goo Dolls
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kahlo-Christ Conjunctions - Sacrificed Flesh, Broken Bread, Emmaus Vision
[The curious or, better, interested reader may view the images alluded to in this essay at this website: http: //falconwarren.blogspot.com/2011/01/kahlo-christ- conjunctions-sacrificed.html]
Kahlo Strophes
As with love, also the bellows.
Calavera*, the Future stands
hand to mouth, fingers to forehead
unfolding before still instatic shapes.
Hold desperately to frames before
these quaking perceptions.
She could not stop there,
had to flare out, dry paint,
and the dryer flesh peel down
to bone, a sexless esqueleto**,
skull no longer mustached,
a calavera, nothing more,
curved calcium reliant forever
upon canvas, what is congealed
there to fan and burn,
a 'cauda pavonis'***.
- the author, from the text below
*Skull
**Skeleton
***Peacock's Tail (an image in alchemy) .
'Poetry such as this attempts not just a new syntax of the word. Its revolution is aimed at the syntax of the mind itself. Its structuring of experience is purposive, not dreamlike. We are dealing with a self-induced, or naturally or mysteriously come by, creative state from which two of the most fundamental human activities diverge, the aesthetic and the mystic act. The creative matrix is the same in both, and it is that state of being that is most peculiarly and characteristically human, as the resulting aesthetic and mystic experience is the purist form of human act. There is a great deal of overlapping, today especially, when art is all the religion most people have and when they demand of it experiences that few people of the past demanded of religion....A visionary poem is not a vision. The religious experience is necessitated and ultimate.' - Kenneth Rexroth, World Outside the Window, the Selected Essays of Kenneth Rexroth, pg.255-256
Rexroth's words are pertinent to the images used in this essay, Kahlo's painting above is visionary, Grunewald's are religious, and several photos are both, and all are 'aimed at the syntax of the mind itself.. Its restructuring of experience is purposive, not dreamlike.' The images included in this essay, which is more a prose poem than regular prose, are meant to convey equally or more, at least as as much as, the words in their incantatory formations which may induce entrance into 'imaginal' spaces where word and image meet in a practical magic, inspire a felt understanding and perhaps gain a view or actual entrance into what ecstatic poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, calls 'the Greater Relation.'
I've decided to publish this piece-in-progress as it unwinds in spirals 'aimed at the syntax of the mind itself...its restructuring of experience' with the understanding that it may later appear in greatly altered form. In a real sense this writing writes itself; I try to heed, copy, then hone to the bone what might be wanting to be sung, for what is below, and often what I write, is more akin to music, a vocal/verbal lilt beyond a particular solid tilt of view of a world absolute, static logos.
Heraclitus noted thousands of years ago, 'All is flux.'
To this I would only add, and perhaps this is what all of my writing amounts to,
'All is reflux.'
Selah. WF
NYC,1/31/11
[...] Read more
poem by Warren Falcon
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We've All Been Greedy
Those peaceful nights for some have passed.
Those feeling safe...
In sheltered communities behind closed gates.
Are awakening.
But not to Robins singing.
To peer from behind French customed made doors.
Swinging out onto the patio.
Overlooking acres upon acres upon more acres,
Of freshly cut grass.
These awareness days have come upon us fast.
Who would believe such a quick erasing,
Of a way of life....
Would come to pass.
And leave those embittered with much grief,
With streaks of torment on twisted faces.
Disgraced and now nervously pacing.
In wait.
But for what?
When the 'why' of it has arrived too late!
We've been greedy.
See what gluttony does when it can't be overcomed.
We've been greedy,
And feeding on our selfishness.
While ripping the hearts out of those to sustain it.
Doing everything to gain more and maintain it.
We've been greedy!
And..
The stinging of the realness,
Persists.
And can not be contained.
Acts of civil madness...
Spreads fast!
Thousands go out of their minds.
Many more are trapped!
Something in their minds have snapped.
Only those exposed to fantasies,
Are observed doing that.
And a waste of explanation can not bring them back!
Their self delusions have attacked.
Leaving us all affected by that 'fat'!
Yes fat!
Undisciplined rascists...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Images
I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Addicted To Love
Your lights are on, but youre not home
Your mind is not your own
Your heart sweats, your body shakes
Another kiss is what it takes
You cant sleep, you cant eat
Theres no doubt, youre in deep
Your throat is tight, you cant breathe
Another kiss is all you need
Whoa, you like to think that youre immune to the stuff, oh
Yeah
Its closer to the truth to say you cant get enough, you
Know youre
Gonna have to face it, youre addicted to love
You see the signs, but you cant read
Youre runnin at a different speed
You heart beats in double time
Another kiss and youll be mine, a one track mind
You cant be saved
Oblivion is all you crave
If theres some left for you
You dont mind if you do
Whoa, you like to think that youre immune to the stuff, oh
Yeah
Its closer to the truth to say you cant get enough, you
Know youre
Gonna have to face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Guitar solo (once around)
Your lights are on, but youre not home
Your will is not your own
Youre heart sweats and teeth grind
Another kiss and youll be mine
Whoa, you like to think that youre immune to the stuff, oh
Yeah
Its closer to the truth to say you cant get enough, you
Know youre
Gonna have to face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
Might as well face it, youre addicted to love
song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It Was Love That We Needed
It was love that we needed
(Hmm, hmm)
We needed love (it was love)
It was love that we needed (oh, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah)
Love
It was love (it was love)
It was love (that we needed)
We needed love, darlin'
Yeah, yeah-eh
(We needed love)
Somewhat impossible
No idea what was happenin' to me
All of my life, things were cool till now
Then the feelin', the strangest feelin' came over me
(Ooh, oh, na, na, na, na, na, na, na)
My happiness just came with such surprise
The water just swelled up in my eyes
An all I could see was your pretty, pretty face (pretty face)
Jumpin' up and down
All around (round) the place
It was love (it was love)
It was love (that we needed) that we needed
It was love, it was love, it was love, it was love
We needed love
It was love (it was love)
It was love (that we needed) that we needed, oh, yeah
Yeah, yeah
We needed love
Never, never, never did I know till now
My deep, deep feelings for another
When just romancin' in the world
Dancin' with you, girl
I knew we'd soon discover, soon discover
(Ooh, oh, na, na, na, na, na, na, na)
My happiness just came with such surprise
The water just swelled up in my eyes
An all I could see was your pretty, pretty face (pretty face)
Jumpin' up and down
All around (round) the place
It was love (it was love)
It was love (that we needed) that we needed
It was love, it was love, it was love, it was love
We needed love
It was love (it was love)
It was love (that we needed) that we needed, yeah, yeah-eh
We needed love
Sing it, girl
Loves, merry go round, goes around and round (whoo, ooh)
Loves, merry go round, goes round (round)
[...] Read more
song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Map Of Culture
Culture
Contents
What is Culture?
The Importance of Culture
Culture Varies
Culture is Critical
The Sociobiology Debate
Values, Norms, and Social Control
Signs and Symbols
Language
Terms and Definitions
Approaches to the Study of Culture
Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?
What is Culture?
I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .
Back to Contents
[...] Read more
poem by Nyein Way
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The Ghetto
I
Cool, inaccessible air
Is floating in velvety blackness shot with steel-blue lights,
But no breath stirs the heat
Leaning its ponderous bulk upon the Ghetto
And most on Hester street…
The heat…
Nosing in the body's overflow,
Like a beast pressing its great steaming belly close,
Covering all avenues of air…
The heat in Hester street,
Heaped like a dray
With the garbage of the world.
Bodies dangle from the fire escapes
Or sprawl over the stoops…
Upturned faces glimmer pallidly -
Herring-yellow faces, spotted as with a mold,
And moist faces of girls
Like dank white lilies,
And infants' faces with open parched mouths that suck at the air
as at empty teats.
Young women pass in groups,
Converging to the forums and meeting halls,
Surging indomitable, slow
Through the gross underbrush of heat.
Their heads are uncovered to the stars,
And they call to the young men and to one another
With a free camaraderie.
Only their eyes are ancient and alone…
The street crawls undulant,
Like a river addled
With its hot tide of flesh
That ever thickens.
Heavy surges of flesh
Break over the pavements,
Clavering like a surf -
Flesh of this abiding
Brood of those ancient mothers who saw the dawn break over Egypt…
And turned their cakes upon the dry hot stones
And went on
Till the gold of the Egyptians fell down off their arms…
Fasting and athirst…
And yet on…
[...] Read more
poem by Lola Ridge
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Gee, Officer Krupkee
Salt-n-pepa, left eye, etc.
(appears on the songs of west side story)
Excuse me mr. officer
You think were bad, huh?
You wanna clean up the streets, huh?
Well you better put society in handcuffs
Ha ha, you got a hard job
Music by bernstein
Lyrics by sondheim
Im talkin bout west side story
Its before my time
Police sweat me like the sharks & the jets
Because I do what I does
So they wanna hit me
If you let me
Ill explain the game
Clear my name
And show you aint a damn thing changed
So dont criticize the way that I ball hey
This aint broadway
We learned it the hard way
Dear kindly sergeant krupke
You gotta understand
Its just our bringin upke
That gets us out of hand
Our mothers all are junkies
Our fathers all are drunks
Golly moses, naturally were punks
Gee, officer krupke
Were very upset
We never had the love
That every child oughta get
We aint no deliquents
Were misunderstood
Deep down inside us there is good
There is good!
There is good, there is good
There is untapped good
Like inside, the worst of us is good
You see, officer krupkee
You gotta have some compassion
You know, you always harrassin me
But what you dont understand is
I come from a broken home
My momma dont care about me
My daddy dont care about me
And you always gettin on my case
It aint me homeboy
Its society
Dear kindly judge, your honour
[...] Read more
song performed by TLC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Images Presented
The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fits Like A Glove
Aint a cardinal sin, baby lemme in, girl Im gonna treat you right
Well goodness sakes, my snakes alive and its ready to bite
Hornets nest, lay me down to rest, ooh I wanna shed my skin
I got the urge to merge, youre cold as ice, baby wont you lemme in
Night scenes, wet dreams, enough to make you drool
And fire, fire, fire for the fuel
Dont like to dress, talk too good, but I found my queen
Not too clean, know what I like, if you know what I mean
Baby, baby, guess you win the prize
Maybe, baby, where the sun never shines
This must be love, fits like a glove
Well it must be love, it must be love - fits like a glove - fits like a glove
Feel the heat, drivers seat, my blessing is my curse
Think Im gonna burst, a gonna burst, a gonna burst
Night scenes, wet dreams, enough to make you drool
And fire, fire, fire for the fuel
Ooh baby, babe - fits like a glove
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah - fits like a glove - fits like a glove
Cause when I go through her, its just like a hot knife through butter, ooh yeah
Baby, baby, guess you win the prize
Maybe, baby, where the sun never shines
Fits like a glove - well it must be love, it must be love - fits like a glove
Fits like a glove - well it must be love, it must be love
Fits like a glove
song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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Colour My Life
If youre wondering why Ive not been speaking my mind sir
It took so long since I could call this my home
My shapes of confusion fit holes of frustration
And theres nothing worse then being home on your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
Ive been wondering why youve not been speaking your mind sir
Ive coloured my life and Ill make no bones
My shapes of confusion fit holes of frustration
You can colour my life until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
You can colour my life
If youre wondering why Ive not been speaking my mind sir
It took so long since I could call this my home
My shapes of confusion fit holes of frustration
You can colour my life until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
Until it fits with your own
You can colour my life
You can colour my life
Colour my life
Colour my life
Colour my life
song performed by Oasis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Unfaithful To Myself (Beware. Beware!)
When I ran away,
I thought that I would stay...
Where it was,
I chose to be.
When I ran away,
It was from myself...
And,
I was not that able...
To remain unfaithful.
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
I saw the anger there.
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
Beware. Beware!
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
I saw the anger there.
And I knew,
It was me who had been untrue.
When I ran away,
It was from myself...
And,
I was not able...
To remain unfaithful.
Oh, when I ran away,
I thought that I would stay...
Where it was,
I chose to be.
But...
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
I saw the anger there.
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
Beware. Beware!
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
I saw the anger there.
And I knew,
It was me who had been untrue.
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
I saw the anger there.
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
Beware. Beware!
Yes,
I looked in the mirror and my heart stopped.
I saw the anger there.
With a feeding of myself wrong beliefs...
That other people made me bleed.
But it wasn't other people it was me.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth and Reality (Opinion)
Daily at the end of my "anusthaanam"-(spiritual ritual) ", I make a strong, fervent and sincere prayer to the Divinity that intellectuals and scholars in the world should be fearless and speak the truth without any inhibitions. This has been the tradition of our ancestors and speaking truth is essential for the benefit of the society and the society will be able to know the actualities and act on them.
Normally the rulers do not like the truth to be known. Also leaders of ideologies, religions, their supporters and the like also do not like the truth to be known to the ordinary people. The writers are normally and should be fearless such that the ills and evils in the society are exposed and remedial measures are taken. But what is truth?
Truth is what it is or as it is irrespective of perceptions of the individuals. Reality is what we see of truth; how much we see of truth. Reality is always dictated by our mental make-up, likes, dislikes, limitations in our ability and willingness to see, view, comprehend and accept the truth. Reality is individual's perception of the truth. Truth, most of the times, is only perceived and rarely understood or experienced. Thus reality is limited truth. Reality is either inability to be truthful or inability and limitations of the individual to see the truth unbiased. Also truth corresponds to the individual, about himself, his Self and the reality corresponds to the objective world within and without the body of the individual.
Real situations are compromised states of existence in the attempt of pursuit of the truth. We all talk about truth limited by our perception and not the truth most of the times. We have compulsions inbuilt, acquired or imagined not to accept the truth and allow truth to be spoken or spread through us. But truth is a flowing river. It may flood us but it never dries up. On the other the reality is like a stagnated lake. Our fear of repercussions taking place if we speak, accept or propagate truth, make us real and not truthful. We prefer peaceful and calm life. We call that realistic approach and adjust and compromise.
Thus, most of the times, we are not truthful. We are all limited and confined to our perceptions of truth. Truth is best revealed when understood or experienced. But we rarely get such insight. All our knowledge and information is hearsay through books, newspapers, magazines, radio and TV news channels, web sites etc, . We are all aware that these books and news items are filtered through the editors and owners of these media. Thus the perceptions of these responsible and financing individuals decide the truth content in the item. We pick up these as truth and argue or form our own perceptions. Sometimes the editorial policy of the editors or owners of these media do not allow truth as it is to reach us when they find it objectionable in that form. Thus truth is never completely known or allowed to be known and hence not completely comprehended. The fears, imaginations, illusions shape our perceptions and our comprehension of the truth. Many times it appears that no absolute truth exists or known, perceived or understood and experienced. Just as feelings and perceptions of good and bad and other qualities, truth is also relative as "truth to me", "truth to him", "truth to you", "truth to them" and a truth accepted by all is not possible and available to be expressed, accepted or spread and we all mistake our perceptions of truth as truth without understanding or experiencing the truth. But truth is like fire. It can not be hidden or held in hand.
the palm. Truth sneaks through our cautions and suppression and declares itself.
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Urgent
Urgent...
To leave philosophies,
That survival is a personal need to feed.
It's urgent...
That we all now see,
Dependency on others we must all heed.
Yes it's urgent...
That a greed and gluttony be released.
So urgent...
Is the writing on the wall,
No one must ignore at all!
It's urgent...
To leave philosophies,
That survival is a personal need to feed.
It's urgent...
That we all now see,
Dependency on others we must all heed.
So urgent...
That a greed and gluttony be released,
The writing's on the wall for all to see!
The writing's on the wall for all to see!
It's urgent...
To leave philosophies,
That survival is a personal need to feed.
It's urgent...
To leave philosophies,
That survival is a personal need to feed.
So urgent...
To leave philosophies,
That survival is a personal need to feed.
And we must leave philosphies,
That survival is a personal need to feed.
While others are starving as we feed greed.
While others are starving as we feed greed.
Thinking of others is the urgency!
Urgent IS the emergency,
That we START to think of others...
And STOP our greed.
Urgent IS the emergency,
That we START to think of others...
And STOP our greed.
Urgent IS the emergency,
That we START to think of others...
And STOP our greed.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Need And The Greed
Need is a desire; greed is a desire.
Desires denied, sufferings surface.
Need is met at ease but not the greed
Which is boundless with sufferings profound.
Need and greed aren’t in water tight cells.
Need might restrict to physical wants.
Greed is for ego’s gratification.
Possessiveness is the sign of the greed.
To earn by wrongful means is from greed.
To exploit and hoard is an act of greed.
To garner and flaunt all you have is greed.
Greedless, though penny-less, you’re loveable.
To sedate the pride is to tame the greed.
To kindle the pride is to fuel the greed.
Having got money, power and possession,
As the result of greed, you will lose peace.
Remove the greed; jealousy is gone.
Remove the greed; no feeling of revenge.
Hail the poor and condemn the greedy.
Then the tendency to grow rich will wane.
Live simple; live humble; then need is less.
Be proud to own a bicycle, not a car.
Value one who owns a bicycle, not a car.
You will have saved energy and the nature.
Don’t embrace comforts, which will weaken you.
Don’t enthuse with ego, which will make loss big.
Unlike the cheat, being poor is not a shame.
Less wants; less sufferings, more happiness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Just What I Needed
I dont mind you comin here
And wastin all my time
cause when youre standin oh so near
I kinda lose my mind
Its not the perfume that you wear
Its not the ribbons in your hair
I dont mind you comin here
And wastin all my time
I dont mind you hangin out
And talkin in your sleep
It doesnt matter where youve been
As long as it was deep, yeah
You always knew to wear it well and
You look so fancy I can tell
I dont mind you hangin out
And talkin in your sleep
I guess youre just what I needed
(just what I needed)
I needed someone to feed
I guess youre just what I needed
(just what I needed)
I needed someone to bleed
I dont mind you comin here
And wastin all my time time
cause when youre standin oh so near
I kinda lose my mind, yeah
Its not the perfume that you wear
Its not the ribbons in your hair
I dont mind you comin here
And wastin all my time
I guess youre just what I needed
(just what I needed)
I needed someone to feed
I guess youre just what I needed
(just what I needed)
I needed someone to bleed
I guess youre just what I needed
(just what I needed)
I needed someone to feed
I guess youre just what I needed
(just what I needed)
I needed someone to bleed
Yeah, yeah, so bleed me
Youre just what I needed
Youre just what I needed
Yeah, youre just what I needed
Yeah, yeah yeah
song performed by Cars
Added by Lucian Velea
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