Quite Clever But Not Unique
With no thought to think,
Those who cut and paste...
Assume a creativity is taking place.
With a re-arrangement done,
As if an innovation from them comes.
Quite clever but not unique,
Is their technique.
With hopes what they do...
Is sought by others with depth to teach.
As they cut, paste and leech.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
We play at paste,
We play at paste,
Till qualified for pearl,
Then drop the paste,
And deem ourself a fool.
The shapes, though, were similar,
And our new hands
Learned gem-tactics
Practising sands.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The bean paste that smells like bean paste is not the best quality.
Copy & Paste
Of course it was copy and paste like honey and lemon drop.
A gleam of humor coming from skies to my beloved eden.
Assure that stich coming from a different heaven.
Of course it is not copy nor paste like lime and linden tea.
poem by Tansel Bozkurt
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Nail-Pierced Hands
Cut and Paste My Love:
As I rise from the
Gutter's darkness-blind
But the strong nail-pierced
Hands grip mine and pull -
Then wash me by Blood
Copy-Paste My Mercy:
As I lean forward
To that gutter again -
See the nail-piercings'
Shadows on my hands
As I reach out to you
By that same flood of love
Paste and Save My Heart:
As we walk each day
Together side by side
Closer to Your glory
Step by step toward Home -
Rooms Built by Nail-Pierced Hands
poem by Frederick Kesner
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The Echo Of The Words
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
but i am ok, i am ok, i am ok.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cut & Paste
you surf tonight
you see a bungalow beside a lake
abandoned
you do not like what is happening there
the birds are mute
and the ants cannot climb the
star apple tree
so to change at least some things
you cut
the bungalow and place it beside
a rail way where a train moves
to another new destination
you want motion and
a song
you cut some notes from a music website
and put them
inside the throat of the mute bird
and so it begins
to sing
for all the lonely ants in there
and they too, begin to dance and build
their little kingdom
the bungalow appears like a some pieces
of assembled wood
dead
you paste some smoke from a busy chimney
you put some live fishes on the lake
and you look at what you have done
you smile
you are putting life to everything
and finally
you copy a picture of yourself, you cut
and then
paste it there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Jailers Door
My blood pressure went up today
When the jailer said walk this way
It wasn’t his tone of voice you see
Rather the steel door that closed
Behind me
An impromptu visit it would be
To see a brother of the Cree
Incarcerated for living mischievously
40 ounces and a stolen car
Won’t get you very far
The police in hot pursuit
Didn’t give a hoot
That Victor did not steel the car
He said the ride was all he took
Now that’s enough for the lawman’s hook
He’ll do two year for this silly charge
Because the driver made them chase
Its jail house tooth paste
That subs for paste
I still think this is a real waste
A classic case of
Lawman’s employment security
poem by Nick krakana
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It Is A Leech
A leech feeding,
Could care less off of what it feeds.
It is a leech.
Feeding to satisfy its own need.
To do what it pleases...
Eat to feed itself to then move on.
And anyone observing a leech in action,
Is not going to convince that leech to share.
The awareness of the leech doing that is not there.
A leech feeding,
Could care less off of what it feeds.
It is a leech.
Feeding to satisfy its own need.
To do what it pleases...
Eat to feed itself to then move on.
It is a leech!
Born and taught to exist for what it is!
It is not a care provider.
Or a nourishing vegetable,
Loaded with beneficial vitamins...
Benefiting the mind and physical wellbeing of mankind.
No,
It is not!
It is a leech.
That's it.
Defined by its own circumstances.
And programmed to identify,
What it has to do to survive.
And once it knows what it is,
It is not going to be anything else.
No matter how lengthy the therapy sessions.
Or the sacrifices others make...
When the activities of the leech begins to become outsourced.
A leech is a leech!
Nothing more.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Peace A Chance
give peace a chance
lets make love
clothe me in white
the colour of peace
paste hope in ur soul
paste love in ur heart
whisper words of love
respect words of freedom
follow ur heart
follow ur dreams
follow ur happiness
give peace a chance make love not war
nothing to kill or die for
give people a chance
to live life in peace
u may say im a dreamer but IM NOT THE ONLY ONE!
poem by Annamaria Stylianidou Or Stylianides
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A Sweet Man (two poems)
A Sweet Man
Wistfully, our noses pressed against the window
we'd watch the man rolling and kneading,
kneading sweet paste into a long, twisted snake.
His big strong hands worked adeptly
as the smell wafted from the door.
Our mouths watered, our eyes grew big.
Every now and then he'd look up and wink.
Sometimes he'd beckon us to come in
and we'd ask him lots of questions.
'What are those? ' 'What flavour are they? '
'Can we buy one for a penny? '
He'd never answer, he'd just carry on.
On good days, without saying a word,
he'd bag up some scraps and give us all a treat.
'How much, mister? ' We'd ask.
'Get out of it' he'd say and hand us each a bag
with a warning about our teeth
and 'I'll never make a bloody living like this'.
Sweet Man
Kneading and rolling, rolling and kneading
sweet sticky paste beneath hard hands clinging
we watched mesmerized with taste buds tingling,
our pockets empty, no pennies jingling.
Nowadays sweets come in packets, no mess,
just pretty wrappers and advertisements
I miss those days of hunger I confess,
those days of dreams and youthful wonderment.
Twisting and turning the long sausage paste
all cough candy flavoured that in its way
not only showed off his handsome, strong face
but also his softer, fatherly ways
Oh sweet, sweet man do you still knead and roll
You're sweets never so sweet as your sweet soul.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Do You Feel Anything Loose?
You relied on intuition,
Which through perception...
You sought out to teach,
One you believed with ego...
A lesson.
And after doing so...
The one perceived with ego,
Had lessons to teach as well.
Inspired by those,
With similar quests to prove.
And the one lesson,
That has to remain on your mind...
As constant as your knack to judge a book,
By the appearance of its cover.
And...
The one lesson learned you recently was taught!
I can tell this by your lack of motivation to talk.
Someone you thought shallow...
Proved to you to be deep under the surface.
~Never assume you can feed yourself on perceptions.
You will die from starvation.~
You must enjoy knocking your head up against walls?
Do you feel anything loose?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Romance Point [5]
ROMANCE POINT [5]
esspeecee …11.06.09.
Why browse
Thro’ eyes
Why not open file?
And save as
‘Save as…’
Cut and paste
You can do
But it’s not
Aye: To love.
Copy and paste
Still not
Aye: To love.
Open the file
Fiddle and fondle me
I can’t be hidden file
If saved as
‘Save as…’
Browsing thro’ heart,
Bring me near
To your
Tremulous heart
I’ll be with you too in
Choreographic synchrony.
.
Make a virus check
To prevent goofing
Love is:
Dewy drops of rapture
Get coalesced effortlessly.
When saved
Send the love
To me by
E-mail with correct ID.
I’ll save
It, as save as…
No, save into
My breast silhouette
Where plays cosmetic
Red, blue, green &c
A designer
Canopy of
My Romance Point.
Copyright reserved by the Author
.
.
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
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Consistency is the paste jewel that only cheap men cherish.
quote by William Allen White
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worthless and Trifling
Forgers.
Circumventers.
Thieves.
Call them what you will.
Ambassadors of Cut and Paste.
Plagiarists with no taste.
Crooks.
Or folks no one should trust.
They are all over the place...
Doing their best to crush,
Someone else's good luck.
And they will use any scheme,
To demeam from their low self esteem.
And in their haste to do so...
They prove and show themselves to be,
Worthless and trifling human beings.
Who believe their actions,
Are not obviously seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Innovation is creativity with a job to do.
quote by John Emmerling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Into Spinning Cut Paste Conversations
Just one soul,
Sincere!
And not into spinning,
Cut paste conversations...
Clipped from over usaged,
With what is expected...
Another wants to hear.
Those with approaches,
Whether coached or surfaced tapped...
Seem to lack originality.
With a rehearsed premeditation attached.
A socialized conditioning,
Overdone and redundant trapped...
Begins with meaningless trite expressions.
With an emptiness that packs...
Every reason to deliver,
A yawn or two that attracts a catnap.
Just one soul,
Sincere!
And not into spinning,
Cut paste conversations.
Clipped from over usaged,
With what is expected...
Another wants to hear,
That would give a person purpose,
And a reason to chat...
With a comprehension to match.
'If I wasn't horny,
I wouldn't be here seeking a mate.'
~If I didn't have preferences,
You would be ideal.~
'Well,
At least we've got 'that' out of the way.
Have a good evening.'
~You too!
And by the way...
Here is my number.
I will be expecting your call.
For some reason,
My preference list just got a bit shorter.
Who knew I'd meet someone like you? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It may not be possible to get rare roast beef but if you're willing to settle for well done, ask them to hold the sweetened library paste that passes for gravy.
quote by Marian Burros
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That's my dream job, to be able to mail songs out to people who want to hear them. Paste my face on them and not travel all over the world trying to sell them.
quote by Kristin Hersh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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