On a level plain, simple mounds look like hills; and the insipid flatness of our present bourgeoisie is to be measured by the altitude of its great intellects.
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Over The Hills And Far Away
A LITTLE bird flew my window by,
'Twixt the level street and the level sky,
The level rows of houses tall,
The long low sun on the level wall;
And all that the little bird did say
Was, 'Over the hills and far away.'
A little bird sang behind my chair,
From the level line of corn-fields fair,
The smooth green hedgerow's level bound
Not a furlong off--the horizon's bound,
And the level lawn where the sun all day
Burns:--'Over the hills and far away.'
A little bird sings above my bed,
And I know if I could but lift my head
I would see the sun set, round and grand,
Upon level sea and level sand,
While beyond the misty distance gray
Is 'Over the hills and far away.'
I think that a little bird will sing
Over a grassy mound, next spring,
Where something that once was me, ye'll leave
In the level sunshine, morn and eve:
But I shall be gone, past night, past day,
Over the hills and far away.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Success | Wisdom Prose
Success should not be measured
by how much political or corporate influence you wield,
by how much money you earn,
by the material goods you possess,
or by how popular you are.
Success should be measured
by the level of positive influence you have over others for good,
by the levels of contentment and peacefulness you enjoy—
regardless of circumstances,
by the level of simplicity in your lifestyle,
and by whether or not you are a person of high moral character.
poem by Anna Maria
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The bourgeoisie and the petty bourgeoisie have armed themselves against the rising proletariat with, among other things, 'culture.'
quote by George Grosz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Viewing Heaven's Gate Mountains
The River Chu cuts through the middle of heaven's gate,
The green water flowing east reaches here then swirls.
On either bank the blue hills face towards each other,
The flatness of a lonely sail comes from by of the sun.
The Aviation Company
Mr. Gregory Constantinapole
The Managing Director, Greek or Turkish
Who knows?
And his firm handshake is very painful.
'You're the person that I am looking for
And I heard your great grandfather
Who bombed Hiroshima or Nagasaki
If I am not mistaken,
Your Pilot's certificate or the License
I think you have an unlimited altitude
(Issued by Federation Aeronautique Internationale)
Anyway we do a checkride and here the keys.'
'Sir, this is a misunderstanding and I have applied for a porter.'
'Are you kidding or demeaning yourself, please go and start the engines.'
I was amazed looking through the porthole,
It's really complicated that I was in Mean Sea Level
Or Local Ground Level?
*The head learns new things, but the heart forevermore practices old experiences.
-Henry Ward Beecher
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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There are one-story intellects, two-story intellects, and three-story intellects with skylights. All fact collectors with no aim beyond their facts are one-story men. Two-story men compare reason and generalize, using labors of the fact collectors as well as their own. Three-story men idealize, imagine, and predict. Their best illuminations come from above through the skylight.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autobiograpical Poem
I am a simple poem,
It's plain for all to see.
No haiku, limerick or sonnet,
Just simple rhyme for me.
I'm on my second verse just now,
So soon it will be three.
Uncomplicated, very plain,
So easy, Oh! so free.
There are no causes I espouse,
For nothing I campaign,
I do not speak of love or lust,
I never speak of pain.
Some people say that I'm just words,
They don't know how I thrive.
I tell them I am born each day,
I'm very much alive.
I'm winding down towards the end,
Just another verse to go,
I've avoided all controversy,
I just went with the flow.
So here I am, sixth verse at last,
It's still plain for all to see
That if you keep it simple
You'd be a poem just like me!
poem by Joe Hughes
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It is the way of the superior man to prefer the concealment of his virtue, while it daily becomes more illustrious, and it is the way of the mean man to seek notoriety, while he daily goes more and more to ruin. It is characteristic of the superior man, appearing insipid, yet never to produce satiety; while showing a simple negligence, yet to have his accomplishments recognized; while seemingly plain, yet to be discriminating. He knows how what is distant lies in what is near. He knows where the wind proceeds from. He knows how what is minute becomes manifested. Such a one, we may be sure, will enter into virtue.
quote by Confucius
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Occupy MDP!
Occupy MDP!
that’s
mom’s and dad’s place -
you imbeciles!
Occupy
Mom’s and Dad’s place -
they’ve made too much money!
They’ve worked since
they were twenty
Looking after kids
and saving money –
being selfish
no charity!
just being plain greedy!
Occupy MDP!
Don’t you see?
Mom and Dad got too much money!
Look at me –
I’m twenty-eight
going on twenty-nine –
ain’t got a penny
ain’t got a honey
and Dad and Mom
got too much in the kitty
They put money in the bank!
Damn! Don’t you see?
Mom and Dad are capitalists!
Occupy MDP!
So Dad and Mom
thirty years
they worked
and raised kids
and they’ve paid every cent on the house!
Damn! Mom and Dad are capitalists!
Damn! – they’re bourgeoisie!
Occupy MDP!
Open their fridge– eat for free!
Watch TV, use their internet
and surf with glee –
Mom and Dad can pay every fee!
Cos they’re capitalists
and money pigs –
that’s what they are,
Mom and Dad
So Occupy MDP!
Lie in the couch
and get your friends
in the garden
and trample on the beds of flowers -
Damn! Can’t you see?
She goes to the hairdresser’s;
She goes to the pedicurist -
Mom’s a bourgeoisie!
Drive Dad’s car
while he snores
who cares if you burn the tiers
just drive at speed
for a good adrenalin police chase -
Old Dad will pay the fines anyway!
Damn – the police are capitalists!
Dad’s a capitalist!
Mum’s a bourgeoisie!
Come on - O youth of the World
It does not matter if you are past
twenty or thirty -
All youth unite at this cry:
Occupy MDP!
Occupy Mom’s and Dad’s!
O brave Youth of the World -
Occupy MDP!
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Presence...
Crystal clear gaze,
Radiant skin
Luminous face.
Flowing movement
Gliding steps
.alive in the present.
Compassionate,
Measured speech
Meditative state.
Simple vestments
Love,
ONLY adornment…
Persona arrests,
Only Enlightenment
TO MANIFEST.
24.10.2008
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Film editing is now something almost everyone can do at a simple level and enjoy it, but to take it to a higher level requires the same dedication and persistence that any art form does.
quote by Walter Murch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Verbal Tapestry
Such tapestries of magic wrought
by masters of their chosen art;
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
Within this place wizardry's taught
and each magician plays a part
in tapestries of magic wrought.
A diverse and bewitching lot,
some sassy, saucy, suave and smart;
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
Across the zones of time and thought
they serve poetic a-la-carte.
with tapestries of magic wrought.
With grace a moment can be caught
by artists of the quill and heart,
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
And with fresh, enchanting thought
this simple wizard makes a start
at tapestries of magic wrought.
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
poem by John Roche
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Now suddenly there was nothing but a world of cloud, and we three were there alone in the middle of a great white plain with snowy hills and mountains staring at us; and it was very still; but there were whispers.
Do you want to hear the hills groan
Do you want to hear the hills groan?
Have a walk along the uphill and downhill road
That zigzags around one hill and thenanother
Till it reaches you to an altitude of 11000 feet
All along the way you will see
The forest cover of the hills are being torn off
The stony bones of the hills are being hit hard by dynamite
And any one who has ears can hear the mountains
Writhing in silent pain
The p ilgrim walking along the winding road
Which mounts to the shrine of Lord Siva
Doesnot know that gods have taken flight
From hills and dales
Nature is being made a parking place
For pleasurehunting cars
They have not only made the tigers and the pythons homeless
They have made the gods flee
Hence out of the day and night
Ajoy has taken flight
With the surging pleasure seeking of man
And the diabolic brain of the scientists
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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In Flanders
I'm homesick for my hills again -
My hills again!
To see above the Severn plain,
Unscabbarded against the sky,
The blue high blade of Cotswold lie;
The giant clouds go royally
By jagged Malvern with a train
Of shadows. Where the land is low
Like a huge imprisoning O
I hear a heart that's sound and high,
I hear the heart within me cry:
'I'm homesick for my hills again -
My hills again!
Cotswold or Malvern, sun or rain!
My hills again!'
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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Artists, so they say, make fun of the bourgeoisie; me, I make fun of the bourgeoisie and the artists.
quote by Francis Picabia
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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27th January
The secret of your great strength,
The secret of your great love,
The secret of your great romance,
And like the seven braids of my head;
But to Edward the son of Louis i will write out my mind.
She fell in love and he fell in love,
And in the valley of romance they spent the night;
For he was a mighty man of valour!
To the plain of love and to the plain of aroma,
To the plain of passion and to the plain of romance,
And to wander on the hills of unity to see afar;
But she was a virgin with the muse of Mozart.
The bay of love and the muse of love,
To bewail her virginity in the name of peace;
And with 27th January to fulfil her dreams,
But the muse of marriage came into force.
Morrow, narrow, arrow, sparrow, borrow;
And like a message skin deep!
But she was a special treasure to him.
A cow, a bull, a lamb, a goat;
She was a virgin and he made love with her;
But she was very special to him.
Take up a work in the garden of love and go down deep!
And be joyful in the city of love;
For the swarm of the bees and honey are like,
The sweet songs of love heard on 27th January.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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After a dry spell
On the Katipunan plains
Between those
Mounds of mud
And plain sand
Just beginning to grow
Glimpses
Of green grass
The rain is giving
Like my love
For you
After a dry spell
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Satanic Power Ruled A Third Reich
In another age time another pyre place agonized
beyond measure-able distance far away stretched
crimes committed surpass comprehension civilized
forgiveness murdered discarded remains unquestioned
mounds of broken coke carbon fuel cooked oven bones
pre-cooked unto oblivion new dust cremated termite mounds
mounds lie piled still an aging testament to craven third Reich.
An extract from the poem ‘Stone Cross’.85? 87?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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On a level of simple personal survival, understanding and forgiveness are crucial... whether in an intimate personal relationship or on a global level.
quote by Edward Albert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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