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Quotes about deify

Deism

Deify Higgs-Boson in your minds,
temples, mosques and churches
and bury your religions
to prosper in Boson-Heaven.

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Money Signs

Money Signs

God is a dollar sign
A mark we truly believe in
Amen
But there are many gods
One bears the name of Euro
An arriviste
Given too much publicity
Loved by bankers
Cursed by the destitute
Who deify obsolete punts.

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Gods Are Light

Gods are light, then deify them until the day
We die, in a feud with them since death like I say.
Gaunt man of lower pain is again in advantage
From a disease to complain with foreknowledge;
He must be treated with too much pleasure
Like a man who is deified, due to a measure.
Must godly men called doctors understand?
Yes, their roots are built from a land,
The land of apes and men, the land of the country
Which lent a hand to the man or woman who was a genie.
Gods are of light, gods are brains and body
To enlighten the minds of men who are doctors or somebody.

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Sonnet 07

Grief dies like joy; the tears upon my cheek
Will disappear like dew. Dear God! I know
Thy kindly Providence hath made it so,
And thank thee for the law. I am too weak
To make a friend of Sorrow, or to wear,
With that dark angel ever by my side
(Though to thy heaven there be no better guide),
A front of manly calm. Yet, for I hear
How woe hath cleansed, how grief can deify,
So weak a thing it seems that grief should die,
And love and friendship with it, I could pray,
That if it might not gloom upon my brow,
Nor weigh upon my arm as it doth now,
No grief of mine should ever pass away.

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Money

Stolen by poverty
Let stolen by 'antipoverty'
Might of the mint is an effigy
Endorsed in life's kinetic journey

Rags to riches coiled in coinage
Birth to death in currency-appendage
Food, clothe, shelter hike
Varied labour-men when strike

Target is money-market
Goal is money-profit
Craze is gold locket
Racing in final syndromic silt

To be is to be knowledgeable
Enough is enough satiable
Fear is to fear avarice
Beware is beware of vice, malice
And

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Pyramid

You and I built a pyramid
Out of granite casing stone
(That we quarried across
A flooded river) .
We fastened the structure
Together with the sweat
Of our hands,
Fixedly spooling an organic
Glue that we believed was inseparable
When applied to the pieces
We mounted
And put on top of each other
In passionate labor.
We wanted to deify ourselves,
To create the demiurges that
Each other could worship—
Transfusing our souls in the moment—
But we were unsuccessful.
Perhaps we should not have constructed
Such a monument on the clouds,

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Teaching Is Best Left To Teachers

It is sad that so much teaching is now vocational
And that the gaining of real wisdom
Is seen as optional.

Once the sciences were lauded as mankind's pinnacle
Now it's all those business studies
And subjects practical.

Do we still look up to Einstein with those thoughtful staring eyes?
Or do we deify the businessman
And others of that kind?

What price the cost of knowledge when our future is at stake?
Now everything is measured
But the measures are quite fake.

We should take note of Heisenberg for things are not what they seem
Measurement changes what's measured
And certainty is but a dream.

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Sky gathered stratus

Your eyes are holding the rain, shy to explain,
our shore of Spring waited, dreams invaded.
Soul expiated eluded, accepting death pain,
spiraling in void, extending, in a feast equated..

Then it was a past to glean oceans of margin,
our reasons stayed on windy, gray thresholds,
to become dreams, skies of solitude to wean,
a flow of tears in causes dear and cast molds..

I bestow honors up where heaven's borders,
expected me to shelter, world of a dim decry,
gray clouds and a fire of soul, and embers,
disdaining parallel lives, my ancestry to deny..

My hymn of sky gathered stratus, and cumuli,
a route to testify, to cry, in rain, my dark bride,
flying sole nimbus, my strophes, rules to apply,
a lonely cause, a solemn ebb of ocean tide.

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On the Earl of Essex

Essex twice made unhappy by a Wife,
Yet Marry'd worse unto the Peoples strife:
He who by two Divorces did untie
His Bond of Wedlock and of Loyalty:
Who was by Easiness of Nature bred,
To lead that Tumult which first Him misled;
Yet had some glimm'ring Sparks of Virtue lent
To see (though late) his Errour, and Repent:
Essex lies here, like an inverted Flame,
Hid in the Ruins of his House and Name;
And as He, frailties sad Example, lies,
Warns the Survivours in his Exequies.
He shews what wretched bubbles Great Men are,
Through their Ambition grown too Popular:
For they Built up, from weak Opinion, stand
On Bases false as Water, loose as Sand;
Essex in differing Successes try'd
The fury and the falshood of each Side;
Now with applauses Deify'd, and then
Thrown down with spightfull infamy agen:

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On the Death of Mr. Crashaw

Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given
The two most sacred names of earth and heaven,
The hard and rarest union which can be
Next that of godhead with humanity.
Long did the Muses banish'd slaves abide,
And built vain pyramids to mortal pride;
Like Moses thou (though spells and charms withstand)
Hast brought them nobly home back to their Holy Land.

Ah wretched we, poets of earth! but thou
Wert living the same poet which thou'rt now.
Whilst angels sing to thee their airs divine,
And joy in an applause so great as thine,
Equal society with them to hold,
Thou need'st not make new songs, but say the old.
And they (kind spirits!) shall all rejoice to see
How little less than they exalted man may be.
Still the old heathen gods in numbers dwell,
The heavenliest thing on earth still keeps up Hell.
Nor have we yet quite purg'd the Christian land;

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