Nature, when she invented, manufactured, and patented her authors, contrived to make critics out of the chips that were left.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
In a recent decision of the Supreme Court, not made, however, by the full court, and concurred in by only four justices, it was held that the seller of a patented mimeograph could bind the purchaser to use only his ink in the machine, though the ink was not patented.
quote by John Bates Clark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The progress
Cooking invented, I have lost my teeth.
Tools invented, I have lost my hands
Carts invented, I have lost my legs
Electricity invented, I have lost my sight.
Calculator invented, I have lost counting.
Computer invented, I have lost faculty
Internet come, I lost neigbours.
Is mankind on march to stability?
08.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The idea of copyright did not exist in ancient times, when authors frequently copied other authors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors' works have survived even in part.
quote by Richard Stallman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Critics Love U In New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U don't have 2 keep the beat
They'll still think it's neat in New York
U can wear what U want 2
It doesn't matter in New York
U could cut off all your hair
I don't think they'd care in New York
All the critics love U in New York
Why U can play what U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
They won't say that U're naive
If U play what U believe in New York
Purple love-amour is all U're in it 4
But don't show it
The reason that U're cool
Is cuz U're from the old school and they know it
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
All the critics love U
song performed by by Prince from 1999
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contrived
Contrived.
Heightened to spark controversy.
And to keep a creation,
False from the start...
But given,
Undercover...
The breath of life to breathe!
Contrived.
Molded from a choice to cheat...
With a substance complete to tease,
And sell!
This done well...
The 'pitch' believed!
Contrived.
What one is given...
And kept from another,
As a dangled carrot one seeks...
But will not ever reach!
As the interest of a peace...
Sought!
Is quietly murdered.
Contrived.
A marketing masked to solicit the masses.
A task addressed to spread an unrest.
Quenching the thirst for war that is fed!
Killing the young,
And breaking hearts of all!
Pushing backs against the wall.
Caring less who stumbles or falls!
Yet...
Honoring that sacrifice.
Honoring the vanity...
To stand valiant,
Against any opposition.
And not dare stumble or crawl!
Contrived.
Reasons to deplete and demolish...
With polished colloquial approaches done.
Increasing a misery!
Decreasing the fantasies of deceptions kept!
Leaving those weeping with intentions met!
To deprive.
As hunger and squalid images seep.
Delighting the wicked and those who leech!
Contrived with lies...
To stir up a racial division,
In a chaos that is meant...
To bleed resentment,
And spread contempt!
Contrived!
But those architects selected,
Are detected!
And all that has been done,
Is finally put to death!
With a taste of bitterness erased.
As unmarked graves are left.
And with time...
Forgotten!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fish ‘n Chips - Food of Life
Oh how I crave for fish ‘n chips:
Our fine cuisine of world renown.
I dined on such a subtle dish
When QEII received her crown.
Oh how I need some fish ‘n chips;
I'll queue in pouring rain or snow!
What better way to warm my hands,
As soggy chips make fingers glow.
We Brits are famed for culinary finesse,
Like steak ‘n kidney pud no less;
Wondrous tripe; cottage pie;
Bangers and egg in lard to fry!
But fish ‘n chips - the crowning glory -
A dish to trounce the great kebab!
You think I care for chicken masala?
It's cod and chips that grow my flab.
Oh how I yearn for fish ‘n chips,
All poshly wrapped in the Daily Star,
Then caked and drowned in salt ‘n vinegar -
And stinking out my brand new car!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Food food food food food food food of life
Food food food food food food food of life
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Muhammad Ali
A clerihew is a whimsical, four-line biographical poem invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley. The lines are comically irregular in length, and the rhymes, often contrived, are structured AABB.
Muhammad Ali
who stung like a mad bee
And floated like a butterfly;
then punched you in the eye.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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My country has contrived for me the most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived or his imagination conceived.
quote by John Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bohemia
Authors and actors and artists and such
Never know nothing, and never know much.
Sculptors and singers and those of their kidney
Tell their affairs from Seattle to Sydney.
Playwrights and poets and such horses' necks
Start off from anywhere, end up at sex.
Diarists, critics, and similar roe
Never say nothing, and never say no.
People Who Do Things exceed my endurance;
God, for a man that solicits insurance!
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Formula
A formula has been contrived for our benefit,
Once more the divisions can keep,
Reasons are for living, ones to admit.
May defenders arrive too early to befit,
A new religion contacts us asleep,
A formula has been contrived for our benefit.
What do we control when we backbit?
The whole collision concerns the cheap,
Reasons are for living, ones to admit.
Mastering our language is needed to baby-sit,
The adult who does this is no barkeep,
A formula has been contrived for our benefit.
Strange honesty is at the bottom of the bandit,
He who claims divinity, loving us so deep,
Reasons are for living, ones to admit.
Studying behaviour relies on the fit,
A man studies for the books to heap,
Reasons are for living, ones to admit,
A formula has been contrived for our benefit.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Let great authors have their due, as time, which is the author of authors, be not deprived of his due, which is, further and further to discover truth.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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If Mathematics were not, "nothing would have been" neither zero (Digits 0-9 was invented by Indians, no Arabs) nor Physics, Chemistry or Architecture, no wheel and no Computer, no Printing and no Phone, no Informatics or Cybernetics. But to all these material entities invented by man, mathematical helps man to think about life, create and imagine, to love nature and his fellows to be emotional and courageous, be consistent and orderly to dream and be happy.
Marin Vlada in ICVL Project - News Technologies in Education and Research (2015)
Submitted by Marin Vlada
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King For A Day
Blinded by the magenta spotlight
Stands a disposable commodity
Dont a high price ticket make a star shine so bright
A taste of immortality
And the critics tey call you the new boy wonder
And you know just how to make a young girl cry
The more you feed them the more they hunger
As you watch the money multiply
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be?
King ... for a day
You got the whole damn world spinning round your middle finger
Hey! shoot a little skeet with the president
And your mother loves you more for every dollar you bring her
And yor latest wife is worth every cent
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be?
King ... for a day
Blinded by the magenta spotlight
Stands a manufactured fantasy
Dont a high price ticket make a star
Shine so bright
And the people love you endlessly
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be?
King ... for a day
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be ... king
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the history of literature there are many great enduring works which were not published in the lifetimes of the authors. If the authors had not achieved self-affirmation while writing, how could they have continued to write?
quote by Gao Xingjian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard work 2
Games, television and radio,
Distracts me from my work.
Soon my mother caomes into the room,
'Have you done your homework? '
Talking over the telephone continuously,
Munching on the chips I have.
I do nothing but relax,
Sleep, eat and play.
Once all the work comes,
How do I manage them?
By chucking them into a dusty corner,
Or by doing in the time I have left.
poem by Otaku Nature Lover CSHY
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tortured Nature
Nature must be love
It is made by god above
Nature is in place
Nature is always with grace
The nature is green
It is colorful when seen
Nature is serene
It is peaceful ever seen
But people is bad
They make mother nature mad
When nature gets mad
It feels like the wrath of god
Disaster of nature
Is enough of your torture
Nature is flower
It gives love like a lover
poem by Ronald Jay Fiesta
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Critics?
Critics?
They do what they do best...
Undress those who create.
It is easier for them to probe,
Than appreciate.
It is a frustration of sorts,
To be boxed within boundaries.
Not knowing or understanding...
What the force behind creativity means,
Or where it begins...
With perceptions taught and conceived.
They have an awareness of it.
Or so some believe.
Although a conformity upon them visits.
But to comprehend what it is...
And why some have it and they don't,
Really makes them pissed.
Although an 'intelligence'
Once applied can hide this.
Is that why they delight in being critics?
As creators sweat to expand their wits,
Critics enjoy deploying...
A complete misunderstanding of it!
As they assist others like themselves...
Attempting to expand minds of limited demands.
Hoping this attachment,
Delivers to them someone's attention span.
And they get it!
That is why there is so many critics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Images
Images.
Images invented.
Images invented to cement.
Images invented to cement and limit,
To give images purpose and intent.
A reason to solidify limitations that prevent,
A bombardment of unrestricted imaginations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Garden
I have invented fine garden of grief,
But there true flowers blossomed...
From tears has raged pure azure lake,
Precisely such colour, as your eyes like
Warned to me, about the severe days
Scared the white butterflies of valley...
For the snowflakes is very lovely
But feelings him- left to heavens...
I have invented fine garden of grief.
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.
quote by Robertson Davies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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