Relative and Irrelevant
It's all relative and irrelevant.
An acquired taste one prefers.
If something is disliked,
It will not be bought.
And if it is...
What business is it of others?
The only reason why variety has been made,
The spice of everyone's life...
Is a way created to pay more taxes.
Not to appease diversity.
If that was a priority,
Fewer would be seen homeless and hungry.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Whose design is this?
How, if food is without spice?
How, if life goes without spice?
Spice is variety.
Variety is option for change.
The left out one is cursed
And the one acquired is blessed.
The user is ever jubilant.
12.0.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dazzle To Daze Those Awakening
There is nothing like a dose of truth,
To awaken the stubbornness...
Of a sleeping done,
Wishing to snooze through life.
There is nothing like it.
There is nothing like a pinch of salt,
That comes to sting a wound...
Healing on the effects of sugar and spice.
And all things created 'should' be nice and sweet.
While those homeless and hungry suffer,
From visions of living their reality living in the streets.
As those of gluttony and greed tease others,
With a taste of their theft with an acquired laziness kept!
There is nothing like a dose of truth,
To awaken the stubbornness...
Of a sleeping done,
Wishing to snooze through life.
There is nothing like it.
There is nothing like witnessing,
The dawn come shining through to blaze...
And dazzle to daze those awakening.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only To Nibble A Bit To Then Spit
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
People get use to the familiar.
Although prior to it,
They had settled for the bland.
Until a spicing done to that blandness,
Made more of the spice...
Requested by demand.
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
A rejection of what had been once presented,
Now is refused as mediocrity.
And a closer inspection becomes harsely critiqued.
Critics come out of the woodwork,
To exclaim their findings weak.
And those who plagiarize,
Take credit for their additions done.
But the one who sweats with an innovation...
Never receives a just due that comes!
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
Only to nibble a bit to then spit,
That's it!
As if what is tasted is nothing but garbage.
Especially if a taste of it reminds one of the rest,
That has already bettered the betterment of one's best!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only That Which Is Nibbled With A Sniffing Wished
The relativity of one's acquired taste,
Is influenced by one's environment.
Subjected to an initiation.
And reflects a familiarity which comforts.
And...
Naturally,
That which is perceived not to comfort...
Will not be nibbled with a sniffing wished.
Only that which is nibbled with a sniffing wished,
Gets to become selected as one's acquired taste...
Relative to one's environment,
That initiates to establish what influences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVIII: Absolutely Relative
Expensive is absolute, cheap is relative
Far is absolute, near is relative
Ugly is absolute, beauty is relative
Weird is absolute, crazy is relative
Stubborn is absolute, brave is relative
Stupid is absolute, smart is relative
Weak is absolute, strong is relative
Old is absolute, mature is relative
Lose is absolute, win is relative
Rich is absolute, poor is relative
Sad is absolute, happy is relative
Misfortune is absolute, lucky is relative
Safe is absolute, fear is relative
Love is absolute, hate is relative
Important is absolute, forgotten is relative
Easy is absolute, difficult is relative
Wrong is absolute, right is relative
Bad is absolute, good is relative
Lie is absolute, truth is relative
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Displays Of Diversity
They insist they wish more displays,
Of diversity.
And less racism expressed.
To move forward their policies of democracy.
And yet with their attempts with incompetence made...
They find themselves disqualified.
Since in a suburbanite isolation...
Is the only progress shown they have ever made.
With feelings they know best,
How to save and protect their own interests!
And yet...
They insist they wish more displays of diversity!
As long as there are more of them...
And fewer minorities!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Variety in Life
If sweetened foods be taken on most days,
Until aversion takes the upper hand:
The buds of taste seek foods in hotter ways,
And sweetened stuff must be put to remand.
One cannot have the same things o’er again,
Man wants a change and variety in life;
We want the sun and in-between the rain;
We want our joys be followed by some strife.
When things are done in dull monotony,
Discontent fills the heart and mind of man;
No man can live with mere acrimony;
We shut the windows, sometimes switch on fan.
Variety is the spice of life all say,
And that is why God gave us night and day!
7-9-2001
poem by John Celes
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I am Not Homeless
I am not homeless
there is a number on my door
a room mate cat quilt desk sofa
spray bottles under the sink.
I am not homeless
on the train initiated
showing a monthly ticket to the guard
I am not homeless
at my desk in the office
expected to talk beg
bring in the business
give them the business
business as usual or get the hell out
I am not homeless
in a world of obligation
scrambling to pay rent
electricity gas oil phone commutation
food food food
I am not homeless —
unless I am expected
to feel at home.
poem by J. Barrett Wolf
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Poverty Is A Relative Thing
It is true poverty is a relative thing
A poor bloke buys his girlfriend a ten dollar ring
But to a pauper one with ten dollars is not poor at all
What to one seems big to another seems small,
That poverty is a relative thing seems so true
You may well be poor but many poorer than you
There are millions of homeless on Poverty Street
Searching in rubbish bins to find something to eat
And there are millions who lay down to rest hungry at night
And sleep in the open under the starlight
At least you have a roof over your head and a bed on which to lie
And it will not be of malnutrition that you will die
And of those down on their luck the singer may sing
But poverty can be a relative thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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No Freedom to Breathe-Entrapped Inside An Ego
If money was the answer,
To having that spice of life enriched.
Why do many who have 'everything'.
Decide there's nothing to live for...
Commit suicide?
As if God abides.
And the emptiness that is felt...
From within so many,
They successfully hide.
And the poor are despised!
For having hunger and homelessness,
On their side.
And teased by TV advertisements...
With infested garbage, decadence and lies.
The rich make claims to have all of it!
Success, yachts and homes with many rooms...
With no one in them to visit or sit.
While taking trips out of the minds.
And paying exorbitant fees to 'experts'...
To help them find time to waste.
Since they have developed an acquired,
An expensive taste...
To waste and waste!
Most of them pigs.
And have little attraction for hygiene.
Step inside the world of these creatures...
Few display discipline.
Even fewer will be seen as clean.
Those butts don't get washed.
Too many are seeking to impress...
Attending parties, premieres or drinking,
At exclusive bars.
Getting drugged and delusioned,
By wicked images!
Observe them nervously fidget,
As they make claims to have it ALL.
'Government and tax free? '
If money was the answer,
To having that spice of life enriched.
Why do many who have 'everything'.
Decide there's nothing to live for...
Commit suicide?
As if God abides.
And the emptiness that is felt...
From within so many,
They successfully hide.
And trying to find a reason WHY...
They have contracted to lease or sell their souls.
With no freedom to breathe publicly.
OR...
Happily,
Without being told if it is or not approved.
And many are entrapped inside an ego.
With no freedom to breathe.
Entrapped inside an ego.
With no freedom to breathe.
Entrapped inside an ego.
With no reason to be,
Entrapped inside an ego.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When The Money Is Right
Dollar profits gone.
And the purpose of one's life,
Goes misunderstood.
Or never comprehended,
As life should be...
A priority.
And on the top of one's agenda.
If lived and embraced.
When the money is right...
Everybody with it wants to play big shot,
All day!
All night!
When the money is right...
Everybody's ripe,
To splurge and feed their appetites.
When the money is right...
Nobody cares who's homeless or hungry,
With no where to sleep or eat at night.
When the money is right...
Those who have it,
Take delight to see others in blight.
When the money is right...
Greed is hard to fight.
And needs of the helpless,
Becomes an oversight.
Dollar profits gone.
And the purpose of one's life,
Goes misunderstood.
Or never comprehended,
As life should be...
A priority.
And on the top of one's agenda.
If lived and embraced.
But when it fades away,
People feel and looked disgraced.
As if embarrassed and filled with hate.
And with an emptiness inside that takes place...
They then create racist activities,
Seething to draw someone's blood to bleed.
With an irateness baited to please.
Shown with those of insecurities...
Without resources from others to squeeze!
When the money is right...
Everybody with it wants to play big shot,
All day!
All night!
When the money is right...
Everybody's ripe,
To splurge and feed their appetites.
When the money is right...
Nobody cares who's homeless or hungry,
With no where to sleep or eat at night.
When the money is right...
Those who have it,
Take delight to see others in blight.
When the money is right...
Greed is hard to fight.
And needs of the helpless,
Becomes an oversight.
A selfishness bites...
Whether money is right,
Or not!
Oh...oh!
Oh...oh!
When the money is right...
Everybody's ripe,
To splurge and feed their appetites.
When the money is right...
Nobody cares who's homeless or hungry,
With no where to sleep or eat at night.
When the money is right...
Those who have it,
Take delight to see others in blight.
When the money is right...
Greed is hard to fight.
Oh...oh...oh.
When the money is right...
Greed is hard to fight.
Oh...oh...oh.
When the money is right,
Few have sleepless nights!
With dreams of making,
And taking it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Battle.... (We Have Fought)
the battle we have fought for so long,
as a 'free' society...
in the name of justice, equality, diversity,
responsibility, and freedom...
has reached the point of decision.
we either move forward no matter
what the cost...
believing the dream is worth the price...
or we crawl back into the cave
of self-fulfillment at the cost of all others.
prejudice and discrimination have gone from color
to religion to sex and sexual orientation,
and now to those enslaved by poverty.
we cannot turn our backs on each other...
we cannot allow the few to destroy the world.
we are responsible, we are a part of each other.
when one is hungry, we are all hungry.
when one family is homeless, we are all homeless.
when one person is a victim
of prejudice, hatred, and injustice...
we all are!
when one eats, all should eat.
when one has a chance to work,
all should have that chance...
when one child gets an education,
all should have that right.
this is the time, and this is the place...
it is now that we must choose!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Am Not That Privileged
What is it you are thinking?
'I'm thinking of all the people,
Referred to as refugees.
When that hurricane Katrina,
Left 'those' people desperate...
Homeless and hungry.'
They were not 'refugees'.
They were citizens.
'Oh.
I see.
And why no mention of 'refugees' left,
Desperate, hungry and homeless...
By a wider devastation,
Created by the hurricane Sandy? '
A depiction of priorities have changed.
And obviously quite different.
'I see.'
Is there an implication you are trying to emphasize?
'Of course not.
I am not that privileged,
To pass judgements with prerogatives.
I've learned too many lessons too early.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stimulant Spice To Life
while cherishing variety
thy pen the origin becomes
inspiration is for several
simple poems I deeply love
for one who thinks dreams
in stratum layered words
inter-dimensions wonders
appreciation adored variety
is stimulant spice to life
(Inspired by the writer and poetess Miroslava Odalovic)
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Let me respond with a few points, the first being that all immigrants pay taxes, income taxes, property taxes, sales taxes, gasoline taxes, cigarette taxes, every tax when they make a purchase.
quote by Luis Gutierrez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prized And Welcomed Reward
After being exposed to diversity,
And the taste of its various flavors.
One who has lived to experience this,
Often chooses a life to live in quietness.
Away from those undecisive, undetermined...
And those who have never acquired a discipline.
Equivalent to receiving a prized and welcomed reward,
This is.
To anticipate with each Sunrise and Sunset that comes.
With a feeling of being blessed.
To express this when twenty-four hours of the day is done.
And achieving of a peace of mind one finds to confess it.
God I thank You for this glorious gift.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Forgotten Hungry And Homeless
The forgotten hungry and homeless nowadays to be found everywhere
There are millions of them close to a billion in the bigger World out there
The refugees of drought stricken Lands and of warlords and the homeless of Poverty Street
Basic human rights of them are denied shelter from the weather and enough for to eat
In a Human World where everyone is supposed to be equal after all we breathe in the same air
But the poor and the homeless and the hungry cannot feel that life is very fair
The minority those who are too wealthy people with too much of everything
Are people that many look up to though their praises I cannot sing,
In an egalatarian Human World everyone would have a home to live in
And nobody would be without food and well dressed and not ragged and thin
The poor by the day growing poorer and that does seem a sad thing to say
And the refugee camps of the World are all overcrowded today,
'Tis sad to think that from the poverty of many that a minority does stand to gain
And I with enough of food and shelter have no reason for to complain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
quote by William Cowper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The reality is that the workforce relative to the number of people retired has shrunk and today in America there are only 3.3 working Americans paying payroll taxes to support each individual currently retired and collecting Social Security taxes.
quote by John Shadegg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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