Artist Oath
If to become a high minded, well respected
adult is to abandon the divine ideal
of universal kinship and good will in order to
maintain personal security,
I'll spend the entirety of my life
an irresponsible child of ignorance.
I'll run barefoot through the woods,
ignoring dinner bells,
oblivious to the darkening curfew hour of the street lamps
If profit and sales determine the merit of an artist
I shall forever define myself as dilettante
a dabbler, a hobbyist.
an amateur doing what he loves
in order to maintain personal sanity
After all, the purpose of an artist isn't
influence or profit,
it isn't to strike admiration or awe.
the aim isn't avant garde expression of emotion
or presenting a revolutionary idea that will change the world.
Art is simple encouragement,
no more than a smile,
encouraging people
to live out the ideals we all carry and know
in the most sure fire depths of our hearts to be true.
The ideals we forget lose abandon or are just too
afraid to act upon in life.
The ideals of 'the weak the senseless the naïve the eccentric
the quixotic the queer the fairy dusted bullshit'.
– its all just maya anyway
– were else can one live out ideals if not in dream?
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Existing As Ideals
Dreams need no corporeality, a
dream fulfilled becomes one-
dimensional reality without
power to draw desire and
passion through us
I love dreams as ideas, romance
as mirage, an image in the mind:
therein lies its power, a vision to
be filed for later use when it fails
to entice
Materialisation shrinks infinite
dimensions of enchanting
vision, I cherish dreams
until threadbare,
I love
Ethereal ideals as Quixotic
schemes fighting windmills:
idea reigns supreme, reality
is but weak reflection of
grand ideals
Lamenting impossibility of love
means we miss the joy of
illusion and dreams
inspirational only
if unexplained
We live life in little routines
while existing as ideals
within a holographic
universe…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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But the egoist has no ideals, for the knowledge that his ideals are only his ideals, frees him from their domination. He acts for his own interest, not for the interest of ideals.
quote by John Buchanan Robinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All musicians start out with ideals but hanging on to them in the face of media scrutiny takes real integrity. Tougher still is to live up to the ideals of your dedicated fans.
quote by Billy Bragg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat Of Feelings - Life's Vertices (Revised)
Life becomes senseless without dreams - the one
thing left, testing ideals by doing the opposite,
discovering alternatives that do not work, breaking
every rule to determine meaning
Pain for long-term gain is the only way to live happily;
humanity the sole religious authority whose embedded
ideals are fine as long as we're not forced to follow
teachings - I dream about miracles, read how
Quantum physics explains all forms of spiritualism,
how consciousness creates physical phenomena
supposedly only perceived, how a wise mind can
present inherently beautiful ideas conceptually
Cynicism kills optimism by abstract abhorrence; life's
value rides upon rays of insight colouring the world
with tinctures of feelings and emotions, created
intrigues, but won't change inner traits
Musing as I climb life's vertices, falling into ravines of
self-pity and failed self-esteem, trapped in the doldrums
of hum-drum routines eating my brain-circuits - only a
variety of constructed, carefully protected ideals
to keep me going….
[ORIGINAL: ]
Heat of Feelings
One thing left: the ideal tested by doing the
opposite, discovering alternative does not
work, breaking every rule to determine
meaning - life becomes senseless
without dreams
Sacrifice for long-term gain the only way to live
happily, humanity is the only religious authority
I love the ideals embedded therein as long as
we are not forced to follow their teaching, I
dream about
Miracles, read how quantum physics explains all
forms of spiritualism, how consciousness creates
physical phenomena supposedly only perceived,
a wise mind presents inherently beautiful ideas
wonderfully
A cynic destroys idealism by employing abhorrent
concepts; life's value depends upon light of insight
colouring the world with the heat of feelings and
emotions create intrigues but can't change
inner traits
Musing as I climb life's steep mountain, falling into
ravines of self-pity and fears of no self-esteem,
caught in the doldrums caused by never-ending
hum-drum routines which sabotage all my
brain-circuits
Only a variety of constructed, carefully protected
ideals to keep me going…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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But we can hold our spirits and our bodies so pure and high, we may cherish such thoughts and such ideals, and dream such dreams of lofty purpose, that we can determine and know what manner of men we will be, whenever and wherever the hour strikes and calls to noble action.
quote by Joshua Chamberlain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ice-Cold Preservation [REVISED]
PRESERVATION
Life is a marathon, not a short sprint,
spiritualists teach cold hearts are only
frozen in this universe without room for
high ideals & unconditional love chosen
when humanity dreamed noble ideals
Ice-cold life is preservation, has frozen
resolve to stay ethically true to dreams;
almost no amount of heat can melt
feelings frosted within us when we
were small
But joy is ice-covered only, underneath
is warmth & love, we're NOT made of
stone, by retaining an icy state we can
strive to live with integrity, try to be
true to our words
Though frozen we've the best intentions
which shall be realised at a future date -
in existence of a different sphere
[ORIGINAL: ]
ICE-COLD PRESERVATION
I see life as a marathon, not a short sprint,
spirituals teach cold hearts are only frozen
in this universe without room for the high
ideals and unconditional love chosen when
humanity dreamed of noble ideals
Being ice-cold is preservation, life requires
an ice-cold resolve to remain true to ideals
and dreams; almost no amount of heat can
melt the feelings frosted within us
when we were small
But our joy is only frozen, underneath all is
warmth and love, we are NOT made of stone,
by remaining in the frozen state we can strive
to live with integrity, trying to be true
to our words
Though frozen, we have the best of intentions
which shall be realised at a future date - in
a different sphere of existence
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Much time has passed since the first colonists came to rocky shores and dark forests of an unknown continent, much time since President Washington led a young people into the experience of nationhood, much time since President Lincoln saw the American nation through the ordeal of fraternal war — and in these years our population, our plenty and our power have all grown apace. … Yet, as our power has grown, so has our peril. Today we give our thanks, most of all, for the ideals of honor and faith we inherit from our forefathers — for the decency of purpose, steadfastness of resolve and strength of will, for the courage and the humility, which they possessed and which we must seek every day to emulate. As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words but to live by them. Let us therefore proclaim our gratitude to Providence for manifold blessings — let us be humbly thankful for inherited ideals — and let us resolve to share those blessings and those ideals with our fellow human beings throughout the world.
quote by John F. Kennedy
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Without The Influence Of Assistance
I am a poet.
Not a politician.
Priest or preacher.
Nor am I a connoisseur of etiquette...
Expert on fashion to determine what's hot or not!
Or do I wish to socialize with the elite.
Those snots are too pretentious,
And get on my nerves.
I could care less who is on the left or right.
Liberal, conservative, democrat or republican.
Black, white, gay, straight.
Or what criminal is being investigated,
For deceiving those greedy...
With too much on their plate.
I am a poet.
And often my point of view,
Is not that of others.
And I know it!
And when I discovered that writing was an art,
I didn't explore other 'artforms'...
To express what had been there already expressed,
To give it my twist to have my 'creations' accepted.
With ideals to plagiarize.
If my comments were embraced,
That was 'cool'.
If they weren't...
I was not about to take a survey,
To determine if my life was suitable to live!
Or change my sleeping habits.
So many trip on what others think.
I don't.
I am often amazed people do it.
think!
Without the influence of assistance.
Or some drug or medication,
That allows the tolerating of themselves.
I am a poet.
A writer.
Not a psychiatrist.
Or someone who can undo to fix,
Someone else's life.
Because in their mind the can't find the time,
To live or define their own.
I took that time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We know not of the future, and cannot plan for it much. But we can hold our spirits and our bodies so pure and high, we may cherish such thoughts and ideals, and dream such dreams of lofty purpose, that we can determine and know what manner of men we will be whenever and wherever the hour stricks that calls to noble action..., No man becomes suddenly different from his habit and cherished thought.
quote by Joshua L. Chamberlain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be connected to America’s causes — liberty, equal justice, respect for the dignity of all people — brings happiness more sublime than life’s fleeting pleasures. Our identities and sense of worth are not circumscribed but enlarged by serving good causes bigger than ourselves. "Fellow Americans" — that association has meant more to me than any other. I lived and died a proud American. We are citizens of the world’s greatest republic, a nation of ideals, not blood and soil. We are blessed and are a blessing to humanity when we uphold and advance those ideals at home and in the world. We have helped liberate more people from tyranny and poverty than ever before in history. We have acquired great wealth and power in the process. We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with tribal rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence in all the corners of the globe. We weaken it when we hide behind walls, rather than tear them down, when we doubt the power of our ideals, rather than trust them to be the great force for change they have always been.
quote by John McCain
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To Live In World
To live in world as man or woman
You can prove as true human
Who stops you from living as you like?
This idea must remain at heart and strike
Noble people are those who live on with ideals
Their life is simple but in fact very real
They have nothing to hide or make deal
It is always their endeavor to have sympathy and feel
Human race is not what we have made
We need enough of digging with spade
The earth can be made soft and fertile
The garden can boom in its own way with style
We have forgotten the basic values
Humanity is not realized with its dues
If we can’t give good or worthwhile to anyone
We are shame on earth and hence claim none
Not everybody can be assured of lovely life
As everybody is expected to walk on an of knife
It can be made rosy and worth to live
If we adhere to and respect the life of others and believe
If you bow your head with respect
No one may have any kind of grudges to react
You will be given due weight age and recognition
Your word may find right place with consideration
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Twixt And Between Ideals
Twixt and between ideals.
With a wish to select those most appealing.
And give a toss to the ones...
Many will not welcome to approve them done.
Some ideals are too complex.
Especially those that connect,
To self reflection and accountability.
They are the ones the most distasteful..
The ones more acceptable,
Are those with counterfeited empathy.
You know...that kind no one commits to,
But forges upon others to believe.
Twixt and between ideals.
With a wish to select those most appealing.
And give a toss to the ones...
Many will not welcome to approve them done.
At least not the ones,
Remotely associated with reality.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Messages
Must a poet's word bring forth
a liturgy of high ideals?
Or is it just as important
to speak of how one feels?
Ideals are what we reach for.
We mostly come up short,
but still the reaching's important
which we never should abort.
Still my poet's mind must care
and create the scenes I see,
the world in pain that's everywhere
must be penned by me.
All cannot be rosy
although I wish it were.
And so these words I offer you
make me a messenger.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Perpetuum Mobile
Between people's ideals and their fulfillment
There will always exist a difference in level,
Which surpasses the highest waterfall.
Nevertheless we can use rationally
This fall of expectations by building on it
Something like a hydroelectric power station.
With the energy obtained this way,
Even if we can't do more than light our cigarettes,
Still, this is quite something,
As while we smoke,
We can seriously
Think of even greater ideals.
poem by Marin Sorescu from The Youth of Don Quixote (1968), translated by Catalina Iliescu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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City Soul
I am the walking city
The breathing collective
The art of day and night
The ideals riding to work
Labyrinth filling minds
Streams of consciousness
Grief groups and AA clubs
Stores and sales
Crafts and precision
Schools and design
Immigrants and dialects
Rap, blues, jazz, classical
Colloquiums, technology
Invention, pollution
Tea and don’t forget coffee
The city needs artist
Beautiful mad city
Cavalier yellow gold morning
Paint your canvas with hope
Let your soul show feeling
Some ideals can only be expressed
Constituted by emotion
Color the mood of spirit
Conception the child of perception
Parabolic myth shared in symbols
Uniqueness in the related social sea
Creative biochemistry converts feelings
Talent coming from genetic mystery
Talent as spiritual as angels
Music as strange as exotic fruit
Poetry like wine from the mind
Architecture where monuments breathe
Old and new convergence
Hubs quell like tides
Styles in the collective unconscious
Museums with purple pageantry
Limestone and marble
Exchange and variety
Culinary cuisine and ethnic diversity
Parks and horticulture
History in sculpture
Bridges like Roman aqueducts
City lights along the river
Live music and ringing bells
Cathedrals and spirals
We live in ghettos
We live in mansions
I am the insane pace
I am the civil Good Samaritan
Strippers and pimps
Busses, cars, trucks and trains
Jets flying overhead
Traffic and home sweet home
I was born in the mad beautiful city
Time for the dogs walk
City soul out for a stroll
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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The great artist is a slave to his ideals.
quote by Christian Nestell Bovee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joy & Pain We Caused
Chapter nine: Cataclysm - reading with
bated breath, too many facts to take in,
storyline developing, who can ever prove
one hypothesis more true than another -
only matters that conjecture is presented
coherently
The single criterion is the quality of ideals
formulated by a civilisation; though attempts
to carry out dreams demeaned by avaricious
minds; wonderful that people of integrity still
chase ideals, wondering how these dreams
came into being
I think relativity - time & space interwoven,
divine supernatural intervention as natural
law in manifestation - a conscious energy,
aware of all simultaneously, scattered clues
picked up by receptive minds - I love all
forms of ideals
From the Mabhabarata's advice on living a
moral life - Buddha's reverie under a tree -
a Hindu revering a pantheon of gods; glad
to be introduced to many religions in all
their beauty; quantum physics explains
infinite possibility
Anything can be made true by faith, no more
angry, jealous gods - but benevolent energy
providing abundantly, free choice determines
what we accomplish, in life after death we
experience all the joy and pain we caused
unto others - and
That is quite enough…
Act of God - Tutankhamun, Moses & The Myth of Atlantis -
The True Story of The Greatest Cataclysm to shape
Civilisation - Graham Phillips, Pan Books,1998
p.207 - 298
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Well We Might
There once was time to sit and spin
The dream without, the light within
When young ideals like creed and rote
Would wreathe their blue tobacco smoke.
When wine was certain at each sip
When answers leapt at every lip,
Such were the days, when we all knew
If we were asked, what we would do.
But life began to call us in
And time, as such, has grown so thin,
We rush to do the things we must
While dreams, ideals, are things of dust.
And soon we turn our backs on them
Those shadows that were once young men
Who never dreamt hypocrisy
Would spill their dreams, philosophy;
And rule them with a rod of steel
And teach them well how not to feel,
And lead them blindly through their days –
They spare no thought for younger ways.
And where that dream, ideal, that once
Was held to spell deliverance?
Well we might ask, and well we might;
It’s life, not death, puts out the light.
26 September 1986
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Pure Imagination
Pure imagination succumbed to the broadcasters,
They were not so sleepy in their prime computing;
The extra sense of sound and light bore evil
And more polite sport and more underneath this.
One superb thinker established the help of someone
To order the ideals and then animosity.
The swish and ripple of a good night was glad
Of us when we wore the barrels of guns
That spun handsomely to wash away the rainy blood.
In a determined effort to be first place,
A less calm night ensued and threatened the ideals
Of an idyllic philosopher and scholar
Residing in the head and heart.
Do not be mean to my top chieftain,
Do strengthen yourself with your new weapons
Of stretching and twisting.
poem by Naveed Akram
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You Need to Write This Stuff Down
The state of all quality of life,
Has weakened in the face of greed...
Isolation and a dedication,
To advance the marketing of ignorance.
And a debate continues as to the experience,
Of a new leader who comes fresh with ideals.
And of this sacrifice he makes,
They have stated he will not maintain their values.
'LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL...'
St op!
None of this is funny!
'You have no idea how ridiculous this is!
This is hysterical stuff!
It is reminiscent of a sermon I heard.
Actually delivered from a pulpit.
And I sat in a pew...
Holding myself together.
Doing the best I could,
To keep my ass from laughing.
Man,
Just like I told that reverand...
You need to write this stuff down!
Or do 'stand up'.
Don't waste this stuff.
You might have found a new career.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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