On Reading Crowds and Power
1
Cloven, we are incorporate, our wounds
simple but mysterious. We have
some wherewithal to bide our time on earth.
Endurance is fantastic; ambulances
battling at intersections, the city
intolerably en fête. My reflexes
are words themselves rather than standard
flexures of civil power. In all of this
Cassiopeia's a blessing
as is steady Orion beloved of poets.
Quotidian natures ours for the time being
I do not know
how we should be absolved or what is fate.
2
Fame is not fastidious about the lips
which spread it. So long as there are mouths
to reiterate the one name it does not
matter whose they are.
The fact that to the seeker after fame
they are indistinguishable from each other
and are all counted as equal shows that this
passion has its origin in the experience
of crowd manipulation. Names collect
their own crowds. They are greedy, live their own
separate lives, hardly at all connected
with the real natures of the men who bear them.
3
But hear this: that which is difficult
preserves democracy; you pay respect
to the intelligence of the citizen.
Basics are not condescension. Some
tyrants make great patrons. Let us observe
this and pass on. Certain directives
parody at your own risk. Tread lightly
with personal dignity and public image.
Safeguard the image of the common man.
poem by Geoffrey Hill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Fame
As recorded by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over.
Fame, let's him lose, hard to swallow.
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow.
Fame.
Fame,
It's not your brain, it's just a flame,
That burns your change to keep you insane.
Fame.
Fame, what you like is in the limo.
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow.
Fame, what you need you have to borrow.
Fame.
Fame,
Now it's mine, it's just his line
To bind your time it drives you to crime.
Fame.
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame.
Is it any wonder
You are too cool to fool?
Fame.
Fame,
Bully for you,
Chilly for me,
Got to get a raincheck on pain.
Fame.
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, - fame.
What's your name?
(fame, fame)
(fame, fame)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame
As recorded by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over.
Fame, let's him lose, hard to swallow.
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow.
Fame.
Fame,
It's not your brain, it's just a flame,
That burns your change to keep you insane.
Fame.
Fame, what you like is in the limo.
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow.
Fame, what you need you have to borrow.
Fame.
Fame,
Now it's mine, it's just his line
To bind your time it drives you to crime.
Fame.
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame.
Is it any wonder
You are too cool to fool?
Fame.
Fame,
Bully for you,
Chilly for me,
Got to get a raincheck on pain.
Fame.
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, - fame.
What's your name?
(fame, fame)
(fame, fame)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame '90 (Gass Remix)
Fame 90
David Bowie
words and music by David Bowie, John Lennon and Carlos Alomar
Fame, makes a man take things over
Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow
Fame
Fame, it's not your brain, it's just the flame
That burns your change to keep you insane
Fame
Fame-f-fame
Fame, what you like is in the limo
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, what you need you have to borrow
Fame
Fame, "Nien! It's mine!" is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to crime
Fame
(What's your name?)
Fame
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it babe?
Really, really?
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
Fame
Fame-f-fame
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain check on pain
Fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame
Fame
What's your name?
(whispered)
Feeling so gay, feeling gay
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame
Fame, (fame) makes a man take things over
Fame, (fame) lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, (fame) puts you there where things are hollow
Fame (fame)
Fame, its not your brain, its just the flame
That burns your change to keep you insane (sane)
Fame (fame)
Fame, (fame) what you like is in the limo
Fame, (fame) what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, (fame) what you need you have to borrow
Fame (fame)
Fame, nien! its mine! is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to, crime
Fame (fame)
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it, babe?
Could it, babe? , could it, babe?
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
Fame (fame)
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain check on pain (pain)
(fame)
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame ,fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame
Whats your name?
Feeling so gay, feeling gay
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Windy Hope But Steady Vision
somethimes it seems to be shaking
sometimes it seems to be ruining
sometimes it seems to be happy
but
existence is not sometimes
it is so much quotidian that we don't even know it is quotidian.
non-homan experience
computational intelligence
cognitive unconsciousness
frame is already embodied
truth is public
public is no truth
alienation of quotation
otherness of quotation marks
quotationmarks in quotation marks
meaning is a ghost comiong back to primal origin
but originality is in the materiality of comptemplating mental formations embodied inside the body on the borderline
of spectcular mix-up of concepts and passion
meaning is just a part os participated reality
running away from culivation of wisdom literally called enlightened spirit
contemporary existence is quotidian forms of a multi-styled thought before events
The Minarets of Trebizond
I can still see though distantly
the soaring spires of Trebizond
I take my leave reluctantly
upon a quest which goes beyond.
The confines of my city state
where every street’s familiar
I am condemned by cruel fate
who chose me in particular
To cement alliances made
so long ago they need renewed
and so I lead a cavalcade
of fighting men. My attitude
at once humble and dignified.
Befitting an ambassador
who has the power to decide
Shall we make peace, prepare for war..
Why was I chosen for this task?
A question which I do not voice
I do not know who I should ask.
I only know I have no choice.
The powers that be selected me
for reasons I don’t understand
To be their sole emissary.
I am their servant to command.
If I succeed I will return
to adulation from the crowds
An honour I will have to earn
If fate decrees I am allowed.
But if I fail I shall not see
the spires of Trebizond again
I’ll be exiled permanently
such is the fate of broken men.
I’ll do my best I can but try.
Conduct my quest with courtesy
Renegotiate each treaty
in friendship not hostility.
My journey took me several years
Forgotten by the powers that be.
But I return to hearty cheers.
The people still had faith in me.
Oppressed by the dishonest men
who had seized power in my absence.
They looked to me to take again
the reins of power and commence.
the cleansing of our city state
So I took power reluctantly.
It seemed to be the will of fate
That I should rule with honesty.
And who am I to disagree.
What fate decides that she will do.
I will submit to her decree
I will the rule of law renew.
In my beloved Trebizond.
So that her fame will spread afar
beyond her borders far beyond.
She will become the guiding star.
For city states both far and near
They can observe and emulate
the simple laws are few and clear
in this successful city state.
Which fate has called on me to rule
against my wishes I confess.
I am aware I’m just a tool
a simple tool no more no less.
That fate can use for her purpose.
She knows I hate dishonesty,
that’s why she chose me I suppose.
To take responsibility
for Trebizond this fair city.
Which had been subject to misrule.
by men who lacked all honesty.
She chose a fool to be her tool
I am content it should be so
For Trebizond I gladly serve
until it is my time to go.
Then I will reap what I deserve.
But Trebizond continues on
if only in men’s memories.
A dream to pin your hopes upon
and visit in your fantasies.
7-Jun-07
poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Power And Fame
Great is your power.
Great is your fame.
But what do people
think of your name?
The power you have
what good has it done?
The fame you have
how did it come?
This you must ask
and answer with truth.
Did it come to you
in your innocent youth?
Or were you enticed
by the power for greed?
Did your love of ego
fulfill your need?
Do you use your power
to do good deeds?
Does the fame you have
fill others' needs?
Too many have fallen
into the trap
and drew for themselves
a fool's roadmap.
For only a fool
can think his fame
will immortalize
his earthly name.
For names are forgotten
by generations, new.
They don't remember
your fame or you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Just One More Dead Hero
So much about his courage we have heard of and read
So sad about the brave man so sad to hear he's dead
A decorated soldier from a war far away
The Reaper claimed the life from him suppose he had his day
One the nationalists and patriots used to celebrate
But with the coward and the traitor he shared a common fate
Not one to respect money or bravery or fame
To the Reaper the life of the coward and the hero are equal and the same
Though memories of the man he was will take some time to fade
Next year he won't be around to march in the war veterans parade
Ninety two when he died his best days long gone
Just one more dead hero and life does go on
The coward and the hero and those of wealth and fame
Are made equal by the Reaper he treats them as the same.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Things of great worth shall come to pass...
Things of great worth shall come to pass
By true foreknowledge and in fact,—
Names worthier than mine in fame
And words which earned me men's esteem.
Here breakers roar across the bay;
Wave follows wave unchangeably,
Their tracks, like letters traced in sand,
Erased by ebbing lines of foam.
So yet you're here at this resort.
I should have found you in this hall
At five, instead of vain small talk
I shared and wagging of my tongue.
I would have warned you, one so fair,
Mature, a woman brave and calm,
About the death in life-and bounds
No higher than the ant's low life.
Great poets, through experience,
Find words so simple and restrained
That in the end they can't do more
Than wait in silence and in awe.
In faith and kinship with real life
And with the future knit as one,
We're bound to find immortal words
Of unbelievable simplicity.
Yet keep them holy in your hearts
Or we shall not be spared at all.
Men quickly grasp the complex schemes
When simplicity's their greater need.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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The Image
Written by: richard marx & fee waybill
Hope you dont believe a word
Of all the things I know youve heard about me
Really just a pack of ies
You see the truth before your eyes around me
Hard to keep it straight
The real from the ruse
Probably way too late
What can I do, but its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
Would it be too much to ask
That you could just gvie me the chance to prove it
Or would it only be a waste of time
To try to make you change your mind and use it
What Ive been looking for
Isnt what I thought
Not behind the golden door
Youre all Ive got, and its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
What Ive been looking for
Isnt what I thought
Not behind the golden door
Youre all Ive got, and its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endured Through Tribulations
I respect and admire those,
Who have gone through a lot...
In their lives.
Whether they have gained names of fame...
Or remain unrecognized.
Especially there are those I appreciate,
Who have endured through tribulations.
And have stayed away from becoming judgemental.
Or self serving.
As if they had lived unneedlessly sacrificial.
And yet there are others who are blessed,
To remain uncentered expressing unhappiness.
Offering unsolicited opinions...
Dressed in digressive selfish shallowness.
With a controlling as if all knowing.
I respect and admire those,
Who have gone through a lot...
In their lives.
Whether they have gained names of fame...
Or remain unrecognized.
And I am not surprised at all,
To hear them say...
How they have managed to stand up straight,
To force themselves to walk tall.
People like this,
Get my respect unlimited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Use Of Law
What is the use of law
that is not obeyed by all.
The bird that does not fly
how can you say natures law.
When you are not free
When you are dependant
you are fit to serve others.
Tell me please
use of time and place
neither you nor I
know when to separate
neither you no I
know exactly fate.
The sea and the cloud
are one and the same
at the gate.
I see the light
I hear the sound
I feel you
And not defined.
I am within
You allot time
that is not my reach
I am outside.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Boredom
You will feel boredom
Even if u reach stardom
Is there any sense or wisdom?
If there is restriction and no freedom
Individuality will be on vane
Total eclipse on thoughts and on brain
Guided by others on important matters
Reading on doted line by merely looking at letters
You have everything at your disposal
Daily new suggestions and big proposals
Acting on device which is so mechanical
Time may come when need advices only medical
Time and tide wait for none
Fame may be enjoyed for self and alone
It has to come by dint of pure ability
Not by simple praise or enough publicity
Wise may absorb with all its ills
Strong will power may prevail and kill
Simple arrogance and false pride
Not allowing unnecessary things to ride
It is sign of simple maturity
Not even small age may need clarity
It is wisdom and clear long vision
That may bring fame with clear precision
Nothing to hide and nothing to seek
Look so powerful and not to look weak
Almighty may help to achieve the goal
As diamonds are dug from thick black coal
You are product of mighty bless
Whatever you get may not be less
You may have long followers and name in press
Simple fact may emerge and you can’t suppress
High rise or fame is matter of essence
You may feel rightly with HIS presence
All names and honour may be useless in his absence
False stardom or freedom may have no sense
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Why People Become Poets Poets Dreams
have you ever wondered why people become poets?
poets have been around since the beginning of time
and they have been mostly men, speaking of their loves, life
and emotions.
famous love stories, plays, movies, all seen thru a poets eyes.
just as the centuries have gone by and everything in life has changed
so have the poets.
there is now as many and if not more female poets
than male poets. why? because they are more sensitive to emotions
and are not afraid to show or speak of it, unlike men who want to
show the 'MACHO MAN IMAGE'
poets see life thru different eyes for different situations
and write about it in so many forms, and see the light and
the darkness in everything, including the good and bad.
it may be just one word, or a line, or verse
that enters their mind to start creating
what will become a poem,
what is the poets dream that you will create?
a love story, a sad story, one of fear or hate, or passion
one of beauty, or war.
so many things to choose from- but it doesn’t matter
what you may choose, you must take the first step.
just as reading this is the first step to start on your way to writing poetry
and opening up your mind and soul.
touching other people and receiving comments
and feedback on your writings will help you to improve
on your weak areas.
some people do it because they are looking for fortune and fame
while others want to communicate with others, and others
just to see their names on something other than
a bill being paid.
poem by Louis Rams
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For Government To Be Fair!
for any government to be fair,
every citizen has to be
just as important as every other.
every citizen has to have equal rights,
whether black or white,
rich or poor, gay or straight.
whether they believe in the same god,
in another, or in none.
whether they speak english,
or another language.
whether they are educated,
or not!
every citizen has to have an equal chance,
for employment, for education,
for housing, for love and happiness.
and every citizen has to respect,
both himself, and others...
this government should be
a government by the people...
any leader should be from among the people.
government, small in tether,
large in affirmation!
we're not anywhere close to this in America!
we have been sold out by our own greed,
and have chosen in our apathy to follow the lie.
now it's come to a head!
what we do next determines if democracy works.
what we do next defines our level of humanity.
call it democracy, call it socialism,
it doesnt matter what you call it.
what it has to be is redemption...
what it has to bring, is freedom!
finally!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Crystal Clear Man
In the poetry world,
I have been simple and humble,
Describing myself
In a few concise words
Letting my honest feelings go
Freely through my works...
Getting back up,
Every time I stumbled...
There has been the time
When I wrote a poem
Without any rhyme,
Getting nice comments
Or some no so kind...
Nevertheless, I realized that wisdom
No necessarily improve with age,
Specially, when one's image
Dangerously at stake,
However, some people are funny,
Some people are so obviously fake
That they are only good on stage...
With their signatures stamped
In the bottom of a lost page,
In the dark, they just remain...
Their limited knowledge
They can't expand,
Dying lonely, frustrated
And without fame
Since, in the real world,
Some people might look alike,
But they are not the same..
There are names in my mind
I can no longer record,
Names lost in time,
Names lost in space...
But, you will never succeed
In driving me insane,
That is the truth, indeed..
I am letting you know
How I really feel...
Now I am left alone
Without a choice,
But, to let the music plays...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Fame
(Van Morrison)
Oh fame, they've taken everything and twisted it
Oh fame they say
You never could have resisted it
What's in a name
And everybody's jaded by fame
Oh fame again
The press has gone and made another mess of it
Oh just because they got
So much invested in it
But they say you're to blame it's your own fault
'Cos you got mixed up in fame
Oh no don't believe all that old Andy Warhol guff
It takes a lot more than 10 or 15 minutes
That's just not enough
To qualify you for
Fame, you went beyond the boundries of sanity
And every day you defy
All the laws of gravity
You ain't got no shame
'Cos you're just addicted to fame
Oh no don't you buy none of that old Andy Warhol stuff
It takes a lot more than 10 or 15 minutes
That's just not enough
To qualify you for
Fame, they're already setting up your own Watergate
Oh fame, that stalker out there is just filled with hate
You'll never be the same
'Cos everyone's corrupted by fame
Oh fame, they took away all my humanity
Oh fame got to fight
Every second of the day for my dignity
It's a spectator's game
And there ain't nothing fair about fame
Oh fame, oh fame
Oh fame say it again, fame
They say you're to blame
'Cos you got mixed up in fame
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From A Dream, To A Reality
The time for fanciful fantasization has passed;
Our time has arrived, at long last-
Our future together may begin as you command-
Come to me my beloved, take my hand
And we shall learn to fly together
As we embrace what remains of forever!
Much thought has gone into this offer-
Be not, to this imagined miracle, a scoffer;
Before an answer may pass your lips,
Think of the potential of our unpursued relationship-
All that it may have been, if only we had tried;
Think of the magic we have, before you decide
To keep this inspired romance under continued coffer-
Think of this as your 'can't lose, can't refuse' offer!
We know how our hearts feel after our brief romance,
So why not allow each the benefit of a real chance
At love, unfettered by outside influence? !
Let us allow our souls their long-sought confluence!
I have closed mine eyes, in heightened mentation,
And used all the power of my imagination,
To conjure up the image of what a lady need be,
And time after time, you are all I ever see!
I implore you to do the very same:
Try to provide your ideal mate, a face and a name-
If indeed the answer is no surprise to me,
Then my beloved, allow our reprise, to be!
Our history provided us with much assurance,
Now with our ardor, we may begin a romance,
About which we have always dreamed!
Then only, may the mistake of our timing be redeemed;
Be not afeared my beloved, my friend-
No matter what, I will remain in the end,
Faithful, abiding, grateful and true-
I have no choice, I love you!
Maurice Harris,10 July 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Every Living Thing Barring Mother Nature
They may be very famous people and leave their footprints in the sands of time
And their legends may live on for centuries and even outlive the poet's rhyme
But their fame won't live on forever though them the masses celebrate
For every living thing barring Mother Nature has on it set a time date.
Every living thing barring Mother Nature will eventually go into decay
And even from history's pages be lost and forgotten one day
Suppose that's what makes all things equal and whether we are buried or burn
Mother Nature is there to receive us and to her bosom we'll return.
All of my best years behind me and I've lived most of my time span
Less than two years short of sixty soon I will be an old man
Every day nearer the last day that is the end for us all
To us then it will not matter if the living our names won't recall.
Every living thing barring Mother Nature must bow to old father time
And though the achievements of some great people may outlive the great poet's rhyme
Their fame has on it a time date it has often been said before
That only herself Mother Nature will live on forever more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Fun Or Fate Poetry Writing?
Poetry writing has become a matter of fun!
With play of words many indulge in this fun;
Fun without fact will make poetry quite inept.
Fun or fate, some write poetry with true fact!
There are many things for them to have fun,
But it has become easy to play in poetry sites.
Also there are comments, voting and ranking;
These make them play this game regularly!
Fact is some are born poets in these sites also!
It is quite true some become poets sooner here!
Also it happens that some are branded as poets!
So goes the survival of these sites by this fun!
No poetry can survive long without fun and fact;
Fun or fate, poetry has become a part of life ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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