The habit of building houses upon piles, which was first forced upon the people by the position they had chosen, was afterwards followed as a matter of taste, just as it is in Holland.
quote by Edward Burnett Tylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
No architect troubled to design houses that suited people who were to live in them, because that would have meant building a whole range of different houses. It was far cheaper and, above all, timesaving to make them identical.
quote by Michael Ende
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think decor says a lot about someone's social position, their taste, their sensibility, their work - and also about the aesthetic way I have chosen to tell their story.
quote by Pedro Almodovar
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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For Them It's Automatic
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
People lie out of habit,
Like a sport...
To play!
It is in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
And there are those people lieing to defy with denying.
People lie and they like it...
Everyday.
People lie out of habit,
And it's here to stay!
It's in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
And there are those people lieing defying to deny,
They are lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Everyday.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
It's in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and think,
They're in disguise.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and think,
They're in disguise.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Habit
Habit
I'm not going back the fact of bring in place with temptation all around, that shakes my body thee expressions on my face I don't won't to touch and taste but I do it anyway.
Can I say,
conviction took place on my inside and I'm feeling a little weak and I close my eyes to take sneak peek wants again at my habit. That stands in front it's like kryptonite crippling me, my heart and soul saying no, my flash saying yes! ! ! ! ! I need some help to get out of this mess my habit.
It became a test I was about to fell I was under it's spell to become slave to what I see, that habit that be calling me.
poem by Clarence Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Were So Close
(carly simon)
Ive lived in all of the houses hes built
The one in the air
The one underground
The one on the water
The one in the sand
He says: it doesnt matter how we live
He says: it doesnt matter where we live
Were so close we can dispense with houses
We dont need a home at all
Its come to be a habit with me to dine alone
Youre never home
And the evenings end so early
He says: we can be close from afar
He says: the closest people always are
Were so close that in our separation,
Theres no distance at all.
Sometimes I gout to the car,
Turn on the headlights
Intending to leave-
Sometimes I need to hear the words,
My imaginations not as strong as youd believe-
But Ive talked to you;
You havent listened at all.
Ive said Im numb,
I cant even cry,
Im stuck with acting out a part.
He says: what do words ever reveal?
He says: in speaking one can be so false-
Were so close we have a silent language,
We dont need words at all.
Theres a husky voice
That speaks to me in the dark
And on the phone from studios
And westside bars,
Through tunnels of long distance.
He says: were beyond flowers
He says: were beyond compliments-
Were so close we can dispense with love
We dont need love at all.
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change Of Habit
(words & music by b. kaye - b. weisman)
If youre in old habits
Set in your old ways
Changes are a-comin
For these are changing days
And if your head is in the sand
While things are goin on
What you need, what you need,
What you need is a change of habit
Now if youre in the habit
To let your temper fly
When you talk with people
Who dont see eye to eye
And if you dont believe it
Theres a newer world ahead
What you need, what you need,
What you need is a change of habit
A change of habit, a change of outlook
A change of heart, youll be all right
The halls of darkness
Have doors that open
Its never too late
To see the light
So if youre in the habit
Of putting people down
Just because theyre different
From the wrong side of town
Well, dont count on any medals son
Theyre pinning none on you
What you need, what you need,
What you need is a change of habit
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christina
It all began so easy
With bricks upon the floor
Building motley houses
And knocking down your houses
And always building more.
The doll was called Christina,
Her under-wear was lace,
She smiled while you dressed her
And when you then undressed her
She kept a smiling face.
Until the day she tumbled
And broke herself in two
And her legs and arms were hollow
And her yellow head was hollow
Behind her eyes of blue.
He went to bed with a lady
Somewhere seen before,
He heard the name Christina
And suddenly saw Christina
Dead on the nursery floor.
poem by Louis Macneice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work is of two kinds: first, altering the position of matter at or near the earth's surface relative to other matter; second, telling other people to do so.
quote by Bertrand Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen
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In A 'Not' Understanding Mood
What position do I hold?
Well...
That depends on the condition,
Of my sentiments.
The day of the week.
And the direction in which my attitude,
Is forced to take a shift.
It is impossible to remain in a good mood,
These days.
And...
In a good mood I am going to stay.
'No.
You have misunderstood me.
I refer to the position you hold,
As to how you rate yourself.
You know...
On a scale from one to ten? '
Oh!
You are right.
I did misunderstand you.
Well...
That depends on the condition,
Of my sentiments.
The day of the week.
And the direction in which my attitude,
Is forced to take a shift.
It is impossible to remain in a good mood,
These days.
And...
In a good mood I am going to stay.
'So...
The position you hold is pretty much a fixed on? '
Did I not say,
I 'did' misunderstand you?
'Yes.
Yes you did.'
Well,
To save you time and not to waste mine.
I just happen to be...
In a 'not' understanding mood.
You see those people over there?
'Yes.
They will fake anything you wish.
And make attempts to impress you too.
Don't take my word for it.
They will have you believe,
They are the cream of the crop.
You should have worn your boots.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Envy
People envy many
things
houses, lots
diamond rings.
Fancy clothes
takes their eye.
They sit, let
time go by.
Possession position,
earthly fame
Just to have a
well-known name.
These are nice I
agree
important things
aren't bought,
they're given free.
like people laughing,
people walking
sometimes holding
hands and talking.
poem by Heather Burns
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When Winter Comes
The leaves have finished their journey
The trees are naked now
As the first flake falls it flickers and sparkles
The clouds build piles of snow on the ground
Children jump up and down excitedly waiting to be freed
Dead frozen grass underneath the piles of snow waiting patiently for spring
Snowmen, snow angels were left alone to vanish with the winds and foot steps
Snowball fights had forced everyone to hide
When winter comes i want to stay under my blanket all day long
poem by Innocent Rose
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Cooking and taste
eating the same tasteless dinner at the only diner
the umpteenth time, a thought came to my mind
am i a guinea pig or one of its kind
or was there a conspiracy behind
has my taste buds gone out of date
why is all so tasteless, that is the food i ate
i dared to ask the manager why the taste is so bad
bang came a caustic reply, this is by the best cook he ever had
(insinuating a problem not with his cook but with my taste)
well then it has to be my taste buds i thought
directing all my efforts to the food i had bought
then came storming, the savior, inside the hall
in his hand was the same food for which i have taken the fall
indignanlty he shouted at the manager
this food is so bad that even his dog had refused to had
hell i thought even the dog has a better taste
why, why am i such a waste
the dog in me forced me to start cooking that very day
the dog in me does sometimes refuses to eat what i cook
the human in me requests him to hav another look
for, when people are struggling for one square meal a day
how can i keep the food i cooked at bay,
hence i eat, taste or no taste, everything i cook, every day.
In From The Cold
In from the cold.
They have not chosen me
they have chosen salami
for breakfast, only
because I’m a thin sliced
chicken breast.
Have they no taste!
Bread crumbs and spies
sitting outside eating salami
on crusty bread,
miles away from real butter.
While just around the corner
there is a deli
selling salt beef and pickles.
Have they no taste!
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Nibbles Abandoned On Picked Over Plates
Do people honestly care who initiated their ability,
To continue eating at a feast?
Since some who have come to munch,
Have desires to have their selections chosen...
By placing them out in front,
To 'try' to duplicate what others obviously appreciate.
The only time people express concern,
Is when it is believed...
Fewer people are eating up all the selected treats.
And it is assumed one chef has been favored...
Because it seems as if this one chef,
Has secret recipes that teases a choice for many to eat.
And it is suspected there is a cheating...
To make those unbeatable delicious treats,
The ones preferred by those who eat them.
No matter what the grade of taste the others are given.
Or the nibbles abandoned on picked over plates,
Given undeserved ratings for being great although mediocre.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I drive through Laingsburg
When I drive through Laingsburg
I wonder why people build houses
in a water-basin,
but who expects
a big cloudburst
with rain pouring down
in the middle of the Karoo?
The word murder now jumps
out of the names of residential areas
and insurers talk about a act of God
as if Laingsburg
is like Sodom and Gomorra
where God let out His judgement
when a flood swept building, houses
and squatter’s shacks
away with its waters
and caused people to drown
and if I would think similar
only the righteous stayed alive,
but it’s nonsense
as a disaster stays a disaster
and here nobody
preached for conversion
and our incompetence
to grasp it
far too easily lies the guilt
on Him from who all good things comes.
[Reference: Laingsburg 25 January 1981.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Matter as matter rather than matter as symbol is a conscious political position, essentially Marxist.
quote by Carl Andre
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Excuse I Am Making
There are many people who value their bad habits.
I know.
I am one of them.
But the ones who once had them to rid,
Are the people I dislike the most.
Especially the ones who brag,
About making up their minds to quit...
Anything that was habit forming but brought harm,
To their bodies.
How do they know my body isn't craving the taste,
For nicotine?
They don't know this.
AND...
It is 'not' an excuse I am making to continue to smoke!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wean And Break
In places,
Where most minds of people are stuck.
As if certain parts of their bodies,
Have been encased in braces.
With an aging done,
But no growing up is faced by anyone.
So much of what an adult does,
That goes sight unseen...
Is missed by the children.
And that which the children aren't made aware,
Reflects the despair.
In an uncaring, despair sharing environment.
And dependency becomes to be,
A difficult habit...
To wean and break away,
One's taste of it.
Ask any addict who has tried to resist.
In places,
Where most minds of people are stuck.
As if certain parts of their bodies,
Have been encased in braces.
With an aging done,
But no growing up is faced by anyone.
Dependency becomes to be,
A difficult habit...
To wean and break away,
One's taste of it.
Ask any addict who has tried to resist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Process of 'Misspeaking
Does the process of 'misspeaking'
Also include one's deliberate deceit.
To later excuse as misunderstood speech.
To then deny what has been videotaped...
As words heard but said by mistake.
And the person who expresses this,
Is one who holds a position...
That monitors the laws.
And brings those who breaks them,
To a 'legalized' and law abiding truthfulness...
That respects and honors justice.
However...
Given an interpretation that represents,
A point of view to dismiss honesty...
And the ability to know truth too!
Depends on one's position.
And people who have never known,
Truth to be what it is without deception.
'Some folks are just part of the fabric.
No matter what their flaws.
Or embarrassments that dropp jaws.
Or no matter who is used,
To promote and benefit themselves...
From their point of view.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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