We are called to be architects of the future, not its victims.
quote by R. Buckminster Fuller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body Architects
i'm starting from scratch
i'm putting the pieces together
day by day.. one by one.. i'm the only one
my surroundings affect the structure.. of my state of mind
just when you think everything is fine
the foundation cracks... in a fraction of time
so look in the mirror.. it doesn't lie
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
i skipped the school of the learned for the... majority
but i figured it out the hard way.. my own way.. the only way
and it made me stronger... bigger than the rest
i'm the architect that knows my body best
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we rock the party that rocks the body!!
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
song performed by by Tommy Lee from Never A Dull Moment
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Features of the Future
I'm closer to the future
Than I was yesterday.
The highway of the future
Is in each break of day.
I frame my future
By the decisions I make.
I encounter the future
If diligent steps I take.
Plans for the future
I made in the past.
Today I face the future
Yet it won't last.
Depending on the future
Is so inefficient.
Because the so-called future
Is vague and transcient!
'you'll live well in the future
if the present is well lived! ! '
poem by Robert Reuben
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Who Are the Victims of This Misguidance?
They were not aware they were being treated special?
Like one who waves,
From the backseat of a limousine.
Did it occur to them...
As they passed those homeless,
Hungry and poor.
Their very presence had been considered obscene?
And why was it necessary...
To careen through lost and vacant dreams?
Who are the victims of this misguidance?
Who are the victims of this scene?
They were not aware they were being treated special?
Even when hints were dropped...
They should continue and not stop.
They should not ask any questions,
But proceed to throw bread...
Out of the window instead.
And consider those who ran after crumbs...
As birds without wings.
Since they do not like to be called bums.
Who are the victims of this misguidance?
Who are the victims of this scene?
And they were not aware they were being treated special?
Those who rode inside by a driver.
Nor did they who chased collecting another's waste.
Believing their needs were being met.
By someone who accepted them...
And left them to forget.
As those electing to choose values of poor taste.
Something neither chose...
As they ran or rode,
To remember or regret!
Who are the victims of this misguidance?
Who are the victims of this scene?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Architects today tend to depreciate themselves, to regard themselves as no more than just ordinary citizens without the power to reform the future.
quote by Kenzo Tange
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm often called an old-fashioned modernist. But the modernists had the absurd idea that architecture could heal the world. That's impossible. And today nobody expects architects to have these grand visions any more.
quote by Thom Mayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victims Of Circumstance
They stand bewildered by all that goes around them,
living within their own little worlds,
which we cannot even understand.
These victims of circumstance stand.
We all look on and bow our heads,
when they bury victims of war,
but turn away whenever we see
these poor lost souls.
Some are there because of defects at birth,
others the aftermath of disease,
while others involved in accidents,
and left to suffer humiliation.
The brain is a wonderful thing,
when it functions properly,
functioning wrong its host
is charged with insanity.
There are those who are violent,
and in institutions are the only life they will ever see.
Others have strange ways, and act in a childlike manner be.
While others need constant attention, because of hardly any brain activity.
All are victims of circumstance,
beyond anyone’s control.
They would live a normal life,
if they had a choice to be.
They are victims shunned by society,
who say they are a blight, on our lives,
and locked away out of sight,
every one of them should be.
No one wants to associate with them;
their only friends are of their own kind.
They look out with pleading eyes,
for someone who may be kind.
The names they are called are hurtful,
yet they do not understand.
These poor lost souls
only ask for a helping hand.
Those who have worked with the mentally ill,
will tell you, not all of them are stupid.
They can feel just like us, love, hurt and pain.
Some can do what we call menial tasks
and others look after themselves.
Sadly, some do need to be institutionalized
because they are dangers to themselves or others,
and some have to be there for the constant attention that they need.
Yet others because they look somewhat strange,
and do childish things at times.
They are all labelled under an umbrella,
and simply called insane.
But, for the grace of God,
we might have walked with them there,
these victims,
victims of circumstance.
18 - 19 May 2007
poem by David Harris
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So Long Frank Lloyd Wright
So long, Frank Lloyd Wright
I can't believe your song is gone so soon
I barely learned the tune
So soon
So soon
I'll remember Frank Lloyd Wright
All of the nights we'd harmonize till dawn
I never laughed so long
So long
So long
Architects may come and
Architects may go and
Never change your point of view
When I run dry
I stop a while and think of you
Architects may come and
Architects may go and
Never change your point of view
So long, Frank Lloyd Wright
All of the nights we'd harmonize till dawn
I never laughed so long
So long
So long
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victims No More
Victims No more on this Mother Earth,
No More killing of her
people, animals, mammals, fish and birds,
to them she has given birth.
Yes, victims no more,
For all of us as one,
what you do unto the innocent
with your weapons,
has devastating repercussions.
From a standpoint of victims you make us your slaves,
bringing all of us to an early grave.
No Victims of the Sea,
the sea creatures are meant to have a destiny,
and swim in an ocean that is clean.
No one is here to have their homes taken away from them,
be it through pollution of oil from which it stems.
This oil drilling has to end.
So put down your weapons.
Copyright 2010 Christina Surnise
www.purplepoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Victims No More
Victims No more on this Mother Earth,
No More killing of her
people, animals, mammals, fish and birds,
to them she has given birth.
Yes, victims no more,
For all of us as one,
what you do unto the innocent
with your weapons,
has devastating repercussions.
From a standpoint of victims you make us your slaves,
bringing all of us to an early grave.
No Victims of the Sea,
the sea creatures are meant to have a destiny,
and swim in an ocean that is clean.
No one is here to have their homes taken away from them,
be it through pollution of oil from which it stems.
This oil drilling has to end.
So put down your weapons.
Copyright 2010 Christina Surnise
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Abstrosophy
If echoes from the fitful past
Could rise to mental view,
Would all their fancied radiance last
Or would some odors from the blast,
Untouched by Time, accrue?
Is present pain a future bliss,
Or is it something worse?
For instance, take a case like this:
Is fancied kick a real kiss,
Or rather the reverse?
Is plenitude of passion palled
By poverty of scorn?
Does Fiction mend where Fact has mauled?
Has Death its wisest victims called
When idiots are born?
poem by Gelett Burgess
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Future Babies
A flower stands erect upon the stem.
Odd:
It bears the naked flesh of many men –
Pulsing, writhing, arteries humming;
Androgenic fluids chase their channels
To the ground, caking at a mound
Of naked girls, who pout in doubt and
Hurl their rabid glares from eyes
That catch the light of want
And desperation.
Sighs:
They know the separation
Stays their open legs
From bursting cocks.
Masturbation of the mind
Is all they need –
They’re in the docks of
Fate:
The evil Overpopulation’s out to feed
Their thund’rous urge to procreate!
Forget the conjugation, just for once?
Bag the bulbous tits in bras.
I know they want the tongue on c*nts;
But focus! Where’s the room to live?
And think about the future babies.
THINK:
You know they won’t forgive
Your selfish drive to suck, to shag.
The Dying Age of Man will drag
Him down to disappear.
So keep the girls away from sperm –
Don’t let the men up there!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Future future future future future future, where's the future?
Future future future future future future, where?
Future future future future future future,
Future future future future future future, where's the future?
Future future future future future future, HERE!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Victims
Who are those that stand by the pillars
Of stop signs or in front of liquor stores?
Are they the forgotten heroes who were once
Served and sent to wars for this country?
Or, are they the victims of social users incense
Of illegal drugs, alcohol, or sex for money?
Who are they?
Are they the victims of our country's economy,
Who lost their jobs outsourced by their company?
Or, are they the victims of love losing their sanity
By rape, battery, or purely the victims of poverty?
Who are they?
That I can no longer pull change from my coin tray;
That I can no longer look at them with eye to eye;
That I can no longer put faith or minute of honesty;
For I was also their victim of their luscious trickery.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Road to Success
The road to success is not straight,
There is a curve called FAILURE,
A loop called CONFUSION,
Speed bumps called FRIENDS,
Red light called ENEMIES and
caution lights called FAMILY.
But if you have a spare called
DETERMINATION,
An engine called PERSEVERANCE,
Insurance called FAITH and
A driver called JESUS (GOD, ALLAH, ISHVAR)
You will make it to a place called
SUCCESS
poem by Pratiksha Jain
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The Poor Children Of Iraq
They've never harmed anybody so why are they under attack
Born in the wrong Land at the wrong time the poor children of Iraq
For the crimes of other people why must they be made to pay
They are the innocent victims and why do it have to be this way?
Poor children are made to suffer pawns of a deadly war game
Left to live with horrific injuries this is to all of our shame
They have been robbed of a future war is so very unfair
Damage done to the minds of children in war zones time will not even repair,
Innocent Iraqi war children they deserve better than this
Why deprive them of a future rob them of any chance of happiness
Mothers weep for their dead and injured children war is a terrible thing
Though ballads of famous war victories the balladeers well may sing
But who will sing of the innocent war victims of every bombing and terrorist attack
Like the poor children living in war zones the innocent kids of Iraq.
poem by Francis Duggan
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When I can no longer bear to think of the victims of broken homes, I begin to think of the victims of intact ones.
quote by Peter De Vries
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The generosity of the American public toward the victims of Hurricane Katrina and the Tsunami has been reflected in the outpouring of support for the Pakistani earthquake victims.
quote by Jon Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accordingly
someday everyone will be wise in the future
everyone will be sensible and forward thinking
wear sensible shoes and act accordingly in the future
wise action according to everyone will be the act
of the future everyone will be futuristic someday
according to god according to everyone and their shoes
in the future everyone will be godless and free
act accordingly in the future or else
play accordions wisely in your godless future
in the future accordions will play themselves
act three in the future: there will be no accordions
everyone will get nostalgic for the accordion god
and act as if they were wise in the future
everyone will be according to god
in the future everyone will not act accordingly
wisdom is unholy in the future
to act accordingly is to stay out of trouble
in the future jails will be bigger and much better
everyone will need some punishment in the future
thinking of accordions will be a crime
lawrence welk is a revolutionary in the future
to act accordingly is to act with wisdom
everyone will act as one in the future
accordingly for everyone to act
in the future everyone will be discredited
everyone must act now to avoid the future
be wise and dont act accordingly
play accordions in the street the future cannot
wait for wisdom and forced accord
one chord might save the future
poem by Stephen Roxborough
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Thru These Architects Eyes
Stomping along on this big philips johnson
Is delay just wasting my time
Looking across at richard rogers
Scheming dreams to blow both their minds
Its difficult you see
To give up baby
To leave a job
When you know the moneys from day to day
All the majesty of a city landscape
All the soaring days of our lives
All the concrete dreams in my minds eye
All the joy I see thru these architects eyes
Cold winter bleeds on the girders of babel
This stone boy watching the crawling land
Rings of flesh and the towers of iron
The steaming caves and rocks and the sand
Stomping along on this big philips johnson
Is delay just wasting my time
Its difficult you see
To give up baby
These summer scumholes
This goddamned starving life
All the majesty of a city landscape
All the soaring days of our lives
All the concrete dreams in my minds eye
All the joy I see thru these architects eyes
Its difficult you see
Its difficult you see
All the majesty of a city landscape
All the soaring days in our lives
All the concrete dreams in my minds eye
All the joy I see thru these architects eyes
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Star 69
You dont have to take the bar exam to see
What you did is ignoramus 103
Where have I got to hang my hat
You dont have line to me
All this just to be your friend
I was there to tell you
Extortion and arson, petty larceny
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you hung up my line.
Star 69.
I know all about the warehouse fire.
I know squirrelies didnt chew the wire.
Three people have my number, the other two were with me.
I dont stand tall, but Im not your patsy.
This time you have gone too far with me.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you hung up my line.
Star 69.
Whyd you put your quarter down on me?
This reads like some dark inside edition, hard copy.
I cant be your character witness, I cant be your alibi.
Dont arrange the fbi, here this spy versus spy.
You my friend are guilty as can be.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I cant be your alibi.
Star 69.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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