Before Hints Of Appearances Of It
What we have here,
Is a tale of two mindsets.
One believes it can and will do,
What it chooses and pleases to.
While the other seeks to rule and dominate,
The fate of human existence.
Both have put the experience of consciousness,
At risk.
And both reside in the same brain,
That has welcomed insanity as a way of life.
Likened to the giving to kids,
Authority to play with matches...
In a warehouse full of dynamite.
With an accepted dichotomy,
That squeezes to eliminate...
Any remnants of common sense.
Before hints of appearances of it begin to threaten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Decide To Take Flight As An Aging Fugitive
When did a common sense,
Once adored find its end?
And when did insanity...
Become one's welcomed friend?
I remember the days,
Those crazed were ignored.
Never did I think...
Folks like this would be adored.
Enforced conflicts,
Have been admitted addictions...
Few can quit.
With no one self examining...
The cause and effect of any of this!
When did a common sense,
Once adored find its end?
And when did insanity...
Become one's welcomed friend?
'You,
Old man...
Have ideals that have hit the fan.
And gone away like every yesterday lived...
Leaving people like you,
To chose to be a captive hostage...
Or decide to take flight as an aging fugitive.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Common Sense Is Not Indexed
People believe intelligence comes from books they read.
As if to regurgitate another's observations,
Gives them an equal ability to 'see'.
But those who have wisdom,
Observe their environment...
And those who live in it.
The affects this creates.
And whose thoughts dominate them.
However...
Reading does achieve an expanded comprehension.
If one chooses to pursue a degree...
To produce heightened accepted limitations.
Although if one chooses to explore out of the box.
One has to do that on one's own.
Since detailed documentation for this,
Can be found not!
Common sense is not indexed.
And generally pioneered without standards to block.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Educating Ignorance
Educating ignorance
is a full on
lifetime task.
A joyous
not grave
responsibility
to raise
to expand the consciousness
of an entire world.
To perpetuate
human survival
on a higher
cosmic level
attaining joyous existence
sustainability.
Reverent
collective will
exalting
individual freedom
outgrow need to dominate
pristine nature.
Outgrowing need
to dominate
energy sources
all human incarnations
conceived revered as
sacred sites evolving.
Life a joyous exaltation
not a grave
restrained responsibility.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in September 1999 on the 30.9.99.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Unnecessary, Enemic, Worthless and Outdated
Answers to questions simply asked,
More often than not...
Make less sense.
With an uninvited complexity.
Than those questions revealed.
A basicness intended,
Most of the time uncovers a gross incompetence.
With a negligence that is accepted.
And by some rule of substandardization...
A preferred ritual of common practice.
Which can, if left unmonitored...
Eliminate correctness altogether.
And the time consuming affects,
A brain processing thought may endure.
Well...
At least one that has potential
To connect understanding with comprehension.
And ignore those who imply this as a wasted activity.
Regarded as unnecessary, enemic, worthless...
And outdated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lifted to a Fever Pitch
The sickness is being lifted to a fever pitch.
With none of it regarded as sensible,
To those of common sense.
As those of higher consciousness,
Have risen above and beyond this illness.
While those still stuck in mindsets...
Of throwing sticks and bricks,
Like 'kids' who seek attention...
By getting it with their tantrum fits.
Do not envision this chapter closing!
And this they perceive,
Will be tolerated and allowed...
With the same affect,
As expected by a spoiled child.
But the rod God uses upon them...
Comes.
And will be fierce to quiet all aggrevation.
With a welcome that stuns very soon.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If I Only Had A Brain
(from the soundtrack album the wizard of oz in concert: dreams do come true; performed by jackson browne backed by ry cooder & david sanborn)
See, I cant scare anybody.
They come from miles around
To laugh in my face and eat in my field.
Said a scarecrow swinging on a pole,
To some blackbirds sittin on a fence,
Oh, the lord gave me a soul,
But, forgot to give me common sense.
Said the blackbirds, well, well, well.
What the thunder would you do with common sense?
Said the scarecrow,would be pleasin
Just to reason out the reason
Of the wishes and the whyness and the whence
If I had an once of common sense...
(if he had an ounce of common sense)
(well, what would you do scarecrow? )
I would while away the hours
Conferin with the flowers
Consultin with the rain
And my head Id be scratchin
While my thoughts were busy hatchin
If I only had a brain.
Id unravel every riddle,
For every individle,
In trouble or in pain.
With the thoughts Id be thinkin,
I could be another lincoln,
If I only had a brain.
Oh i-- could tell you why,
The oceans near the shore.
I could think of things I never thought before,
Then Id sit-- and think some more.
I would not be just a nothin,
My head all full of stuffin,
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and by merry,
Life would be a dingle derry,
If I only had a brain.
If I only had a brain--
(if he only had a brain.)
I could tell you why
The oceans near the shore.
I could think of things I never thought before
And then Id sit-- and think some more.
Ya, it would be kind of pleasin
To reason out the reason,
For the things I cant explain.
Then perhaps Id deserve you,
And be even worthy of you,
If I only had a brain.
I could dance and by merry,
Life would be a dingle derry,
If I only had a brain.
If I only had a brain.
(if he only had a brain.)
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Only Had A Brain (feat. Jewel, Images, Ry Cooder & David Sanborn)
(from the soundtrack album The Wizard of Oz in Concert: Dreams Do Come True; performed by Jackson Browne backed by Ry Cooder & David Sanborn)
See, I can't scare anybody.
They come from miles around
To laugh in my face and eat in my field.
Said a scarecrow swinging on a pole,
To some blackbirds sittin' on a fence,
"Oh, the Lord gave me a soul,
But, forgot to give me common sense."
Said the blackbirds, "Well, well, well.
What the thunder would you do with common sense?"
Said the scarecrow,"Would be pleasin'
just to reason out the reason
of the wishes and the whyness and the whence"
If I had an once of common sense...
(If he had an ounce of common sense)
(Well, what would you do Scarecrow?")
I would while away the hours
Conferin' with the flowers
Consultin' with the rain
And my head I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain.
I'd unravel every riddle,
For every individle,
In trouble or in pain.
With the thoughts I'd be thinkin',
I could be another Lincoln,
If I only had a brain.
Oh I-- could tell you why,
The ocean's near the shore.
I could think of things I never thought before,
Then I'd sit-- and think some more.
I would not be just a nothin',
my head all full of stuffin',
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and be merry,
Life would be a dingle derry,
If I only had a brain.
If I only had a brain--
(If he only had a brain.)
I could tell you why
The ocean's near the shore.
I could think of things I never thought before
And then I'd sit-- and think some more.
Ya, it would be kind of pleasin'
To reason out the reason,
for the things I can't explain.
Then perhaps I'd deserve you,
and be even worthy of you,
If I only had a brain.
I could dance and by merry,
Life would be a dingle derry,
If I only had a brain.
If I only had a brain.
(If he only had a brain.)
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School days are the unhappiest in the whole span of human existence. They are full of dull, unintelligible tasks, new and unpleasant ordinances, with brutal violations of common sense and common decency.
quote by H.L. Mencken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Play
The challenge is bigger than I thought – playing
charades to make the world go round, playing
games to keep illusions alive, living within your
convictions, following your rules and regulations
Describing the world as you insist it should be
though the five senses reveal something which
is entirely different, not giving away I am aware
this is a play to reconcile conflicting situations
Wait - this is a comedy, once we know that deep
inside everybody chooses his life’s game to learn
spiritual greatness, staying calm, tackling the self-
created problem with resignation and fortitude
We shall all be winners together in this shadow
play, everybody does it, becomes reconciled to
their own choices, however imbecile – if they
can, so can I…
Refusing to move means being paralysed, refusing
to exercise means muscles atrophied, being left to
immobile fixation means frozen attitudes, people
who refuse to follow physiotherapists end up in
wheel-chairs
You take an interest and threaten with aggression
that someone given freedom to remain motionless
for three months must get up again – guess what,
she cannot; threats cannot replace intelligence
and common sense
I am completely at ease, following your decrees
and requirements, life is a game for learning so
here we go, let the games begin…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Accustomed To An Irrational Way Of Life
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
Especially when one's standing,
On debts owed.
Requires one to pay up,
For an out of control feasting to be paid.
As a 'sensible' way to pay for it with 'cash'.
Something demanded that one does not have.
And to state with a dignified presence,
That those awaiting to be paid for those losses generated.
Should be the ones already suffering,
From those mistakes made by those who fed at the feast.
To leave it in shambles,
And the ones left starving and homeless.
Are responsible and accountable to pay for a mess,
While those greedy keep.
Not only what they have hoarded,
But also the resources stuffed in their overflowing pockets.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
And
They have no intention to pay a cent,
For what has been spent.
To sustain their lofty positions,
Because they have been hypnotized.
On rights of their entitlements.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Is like introducing a reality never known.
Nor will that reality expressed be accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rewind
Resign my brain.
Knows bored, minds cored.
Your fate has come rewound.
I thought the day I'd die you'd rule.
Rewind my sense.
Range choice of live expense.
Days come, nights fall.
Fix all mistakes, rule all.
When is locked in.
Set back within your realm of violence.
If you see anything, soon we'll rise.
Resign, my brain.
Knows bored, minds cored.
Your fate has come, rewound.
I said the day I'd rule you'd die.
Resign my friend.
Knows bored, minds cored.
Your fate has come rewound.
I said the day I'd rule you'd die
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In It And Not Of It
Being in it and not of it,
Can still nibble away at one's gut.
Being distant and cut off from it,
May prevent one's suffering.
But...
Those memories have a way to linger.
And emotions felt deep,
Are never too far away.
One can choose to refuse to acknowledge them.
But how far away should one stay,
Without being followed...
By what has been experienced.
Or the degrading taking place,
Of that which has been observed.
And accepted by those,
Who have chosen to dance...
Effectively around its existence.
As if to glorify the remnants,
Of its staying power to remain unchanged...
To improve upon appearances,
With an approval that appeases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Consciousness
I am consciousness, existences and bliss.
Hold the light for everyone you do insist.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
bless the people you have on your list.
I am consciousness, existence bliss,
think a good thought to those that are missed.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
bless those you wouldn’t even kiss.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
heal relationships where anger exists.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
bless those you cherish.
Written By Christina Sunrise on February 4,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Physical Poetry
The physics of poetry
is best explained in a mind experiment
in the construction of this very poem.
As I write the question becomes
what is the word-next and its origins?
Now what word-next can be
is a question of probabilities;
since if I choose rhyme as my scheme
and since the words which will rhyme are finite
and not infinite
the only question then becomes
which one of these will I choose.
Now if I choose a word-next outside
rhyming
then I risk not making poetic sense
since writing a gibberish word,
or one not related to the whole,
would be judged word-next nonsense.
Now we ask who or what in the brain
is making these two decisions
is it me or is it something mysterious;
is it drawing upon the past and memory
or from an instantaneous present
or even perhaps from my future?
Or is it just random choices I make
without even understanding them?
But suppose it is something we call
consciousness which exists
in the brain-cloud of cells which
can with millions of possibilities
produce a entirely new idea
which by definition
can come to exist
like language itself
and produce something never before said;
and now is being compiled in the brain
in this very instant and brought into existence.
That is humans have with language
the ability to create sentences
which have never before existed,
spoken or written because some languages have
enough words in them to make these permutations
near infinite and hence new ideas possible therewith.
Suppose the same is true of the human mind
and human senses make possible from this
this exercise we call
the idea.
So beyond the physical aspects of the brain
there must be a non-physical aspect we call
consciousness, the spiritual, or whatever
word we choose as its name.
Now the other half of the transaction
is even more amazing:
I just made up a new idea
never been expressed before
and can talk to you about it
and given enough clues
it becomes something you understand
and you yourself can write
a poem about.
This must be trans-consciousness
which is now a double miracle
nobody understands.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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One Who Believes
One who believes
In Him
Is like a tree
Planted
By a stream,
Who gets replenished
When he
Runs out of steam.
An atheist
Is like a bush,
Growing
In a desert.
He believes
In himself
And chooses
To walk alone
But takes
The risk
Of withering,
As there is no oasis
From which
He can draw
Sustenance.
Thus ends up
Feeling forlorn.
if you get
into a patnership
with Him
you'll sail through
hardships with ease
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Never permit a dichotomy to rule your life, a dichotomy in which you hate what you do so you can have pleasure in your spare time. Look for a situation in which your work will give you as much happiness as your spare time.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Consciousness
I am consciousness, existences and bliss.
Hold the light for everyone you do insist.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
bless the people you have on your list.
I am consciousness, existence bliss,
think a good thought to those that are missed.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
bless those you wouldn’t even kiss.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
heal relationships where anger exists.
I am consciousness, existence, bliss,
bless those you cherish.
Written By Christina Sunrise on February 4,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The God Of Common-Sense
My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense:
"Its takes a hair-brush back," said he, "to teach kids common-sense."
And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face.
Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place.
For Dad declared with unction: "Spare the brush and spoil the brat."
The dear old man! What e'er his faults he never did do that;
And though a score of years have gone since he departed hence,
I still revere his deity, The God of Common-sense.
How often I have played the ass (Man's universal fate),
Yet always I have saved myself before it was too late;
How often tangled with a dame - you know how these things are,
Yet always had the gumption not to carry on too far;
Remembering that fancy skirts, however high they go,
Are not to be stacked up against a bunch of hard-earned dough;
And sentiment has little weight compared with pounds and pence,
According to the gospel of the God of Common-sense.
Oh blessing on that old hair-brush my Daddy used to whack
With such benign precision on the basement of my back.
Oh blessings on his wisdom, saying: "Son, don't play the fool,
Let prudence be your counselor and reason be your rule.
Don't get romantic notions, always act with judgment calm,
Poetical emotions ain't in practice worth a damn/
let solid comfort be your goal, self-interest your guide. . . ."
Then just as if to emphasize, whack! whack! the brush he plied.
And so I often wonder if my luck is Providence,
or just my humble tribute to the God of Common-sense.
poem by Robert William Service
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Hatred…kiss Me-kill Me
You stew with hatred and wonder why
A human mind has such capacity to hate
When common sense no longer does apply
Play you a silly game with destiny 'n fate
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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