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Their Teachers
Never do the same signs show their details,
Details are simply abandoning the very concept;
Signs fool the teachers of this era as we speak,
Details are against those who teach and display.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Women...
they quarrel over the official color
of their dresses in conventions,
scrutinize every rumor, confrontational
in the most irrelevant and unimportant details,
they talk much over nothing,
change dresses in almost every occasion,
they are given the chance to lead,
backbite, and lose themselves in much
ado's about nothings.
i watch all these chaos
trying to understand, and respond to all their confusions
in the secret silences of my smiles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poetry Of Registration Research In The Contemporary Culture
details
precisely
diversity
steps
mediation of reality
abstract realizations
details again
no I-iniciated discussion
I-Konw-it-Is-Difficult-To- Do is a challenged being, not the category
details agains repeated again
but-ness id gone forever
d-e-t-a-i-l-s
insight revisted and reconstructed after the deconstructions
of multiple-I analysis
Let's Be Honest About This
Let's be honest about this!
'No.
Why should we?
Look behind you.
The majority now follow us.
Plus it has stopped raining.
A rainbow appears.
And...
Who knows,
If we keep with our beliefs...
Soon we will be near the Emerald City.'
WHAT EMERALD CITY? ? ?
'Keep your voice down.
I said IF we keep our beliefs...
Soon we will be near the Emerald City.'
But that's lieing.
'Details.
Details, details, details.
So what?
Something will show up...
And we will call it the Emerald City.
You know how it works.
You've been playing this game longer than I have.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sending Those Mixed Messages
No!
My name is 'not' Angel.
Everybody's trying to get in a free 'cruise'.
And at my expense.
'Listen to Me!
You were specifically given an assignment.
When asked the 'code'...
You are to reply accordingly.
That's 'another' one you let escape.'
Ok ok ok.
I understand that, My Father.
But my name is not Angel.
I 'am' an angel.
And that is a tremendous difference.
The question I 'should be asked,
Is this...
Are you an 'angel'?
'Why is it,
You are the only one...
I find I 'have' to qualify My wishes.
Do you realize what time it is?
And I am on a schedule to raise conscious levels,
Around here.
DETAILS! Details.
Let ME worry about the details.
Is that clear? '
Sure!
Now...
What details do You refer to?
And how clear should I be?
'BOY!
Where on EARTH did you come from? '
Father...?
Aren't I 'not' Your creation?
There You go again.
Sending those mixed messages.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Eye For Details
details
are
everything
sometimes
details
are not just good
sometimes
details
are everything
an eye
for
detail
eye
mind
understood
heart hand
desire
to do good
patterns possibilities
dreams birth reality
perfection creativity
time to listen focus
hear earth cry
end abuse exploitation
nature models sustainability
ecosystems elastic diversity
interactive beautified energy
poem by Terence George Craddock
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One should absorb the colour of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One should absorb the colour of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One should absorb the colour of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The details are details. They make the product. The connections, the connections, the connections. It will in the end be these details that give the product its life.
quote by Charles Eames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The details are not the details. They make the design.
quote by Charles Eames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eye Of The Storm
look at you, the eye of the storm
looks at you
and you stand still
and the storm
winks about this game
and the storm
goes away it has no eye for you
who you? who are you?
you are nobody
the storm even detests you
finds you
irrelevant for its meaningful
destruction
you stand still
what do you feel? it is irrelevant
you are but
another eye eying another eye
destructive too
but silent.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Prayer and love^ t
Pray!
Whom? Immaterial.
If he hear? Irrelevant.
Will he reward? Inconsistent
Love
Whom? Immaterial.
If he/she knows? Irrelevant.
Will he/she yield? Inconsistent.
In prying you unload;
In loving you recharge.
In praying you beg;
In loving you offer.
The one who loves is superior.
02.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Try To Remember Some Details
Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing
of the one you love
so that on the day of loss you'll be able to say: last seen
wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat.
Try to remember some details. For they have no face
and their soul is hidden and their crying
is the same as their laughter,
and their silence and their shouting rise to one height
and their body temperature is between 98 and 104 degrees
and they have no life outside this narrow space
and they have no graven image, no likeness, no memory
and they have paper cups on the day of their rejoicing
and paper cups that are used once only.
Try to remember some details. For the world
is filled with people who were torn from their sleep
with no one to mend the tear,
and unlike wild beasts they live
each in his lonely hiding place and they die
together on battlefields
and in hospitals.
And the earth will swallow all of them,
good and evil together, like the followers of Korah,
all of them in thir rebellion against death,
their mouths open till the last moment,
praising and cursing in a single
howl. Try, try
to remember some details.
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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Time Rages At The Quiet Of My Soul
TIME RAGES AT THE QUIET OF MY SOUL
Time rages at the quiet of my soul-
My children are so busy now
With the errands of life
I cannot help much-
All my worry for them is irrelevant
They are deep in the duties of life
And I am old with retirement
Wishing I could help more-
And praying for their well- being with all my inquiet and irrelevant soul-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Changeable
he looks at the picture again
some details that used to attract him
he does not see anymore
the definition of love
even lust,
he looks at the sky again
thanking God
for this experience: nothing lasts forever
something frees us
after a time of blind love
you mourn only for a while
and then you find joy again in those other details
those that you have discarded
in fact
becomes more important
so you go over again
life and its basics
love and its reminisces
you move into another stage
of survival
now there is comfort in strangers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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a tribute to the Absurd
Happiness is a ballpoint pen
Happiness is irrelevant
Happiness is talk
Life is running out of ink
Life is waterfalls and irrelevance!
and Godot
Life is waiting
Life is post-modernism
Loneliness is too much
ink
is happiness it is falling water it is
irrelevant life is
unsensical but musical
abusical defensible
Someday I will write about relevance
someday someday someday
point: waterfalling ball___ pen = someday ink
someday ink is my lonely happy outness
Falling Short Of Words
from this window
glass i see narra trees
the leaves had fallen
it is cold
i am alone looking carefully at the details
of leafless twigs
branches are dry
barks are cracked
the grasses below are brown
beside the fence two boys are playing hide and seek
cars blue and white and black are parked
in one area like gossiping women
i am alone thinking about some details
falling short of words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Maureen
I pick her up outside the station
She's telling me about her spring vacation
She's not leaving much to the imagination
She's giving me way too much information
Maureen
You don't know what you do to me
I know you won't be true to me
The least that you can do for me
Is keep it to yourself
I'm so sorry I don't mean to shout
It's just that I can do without
The details of your days and nights and your thoughts and dreams
Maureen, Maureen, Maureen, Maureen, Maureen
Do you know what I mean
Do you know what I mean
Do you know what I mean
She calls me up at ten past midnight
'Cause she and some guy just had some big fight
And I say well maybe he's just not all that bright
She tells me it's not his brain that she likes
M-M-M-M-M-Maureen
You don't know what you do to me
I know you won't be true to me
The least that you can do for me
Is keep it to yourself
I'm so sorry I don't mean to shout
But really I can do without
The details of your days and nights and your thoughts and dreams
Maureen, Maureen, Maureen, Maureen
I know you think I'm just a friend
But can we please just put an end
To all the graphic imagery that you insist on feeding me
I can't accept I'm not the one
Who's getting to have all the fun
Maybe that's what friends are for
But I just can't take it any more
M-M-M-M-M-Maureen
You don't know what you do to me
I know you won't be true to me
The least that you can do for me
Is keep it to yourself
I'm so sorry I don't mean to shout
But really I can do without
The details of your days and nights and your thoughts and dreams
Can we keep it right
Can we keep it clean
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Rather Have My Heart Break
When we were attracted,
We sought to seek deep details.
After discovering the capture,
Lost the need to continue the hunt.
The details began to repeat themselves.
And the wish to be freed...
Became excuses we used,
To escape and breakaway...
From an attention no longer paid,
That once kept us enthusiastic.
Now we both feel entrapped!
Caged like blood thirsty opponents.
I rather have my heart break...
Than my blood to gush!
Or have you rushing away,
From a knock out punch attempted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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