Selecting to Protect and Dissect
Objects to be used.
They view themselves this way.
In a perfected display...
Of a total loss of identity.
An empty falsity escaping by charade.
Facing this and coming to grips with it...
Establishes denial,
And masquerades that degrade.
Accustomed they are to be used...
As someone's trade!
As if a physicality and a plasticness,
Is all what they wish!
A hollow and fake nothingness!
Objects.
Selecting to protect and dissect,
From behind masks.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
On Display
When I first met denial,
It was masked as if casted from my face.
I looked into the mirror to evaluate its presence.
And on that particular day...
I stayed until denial from my face went away.
Self examination is at first excruciating.
Truth on display,
Doesn't fake to a fade or play charade.
Or masquerade its significance.
It comes too real to be felt and adorned.
When I first met denial,
It was masked as if casted from my face.
I looked into the mirror to evaluate its presence.
And on that particular day...
I stayed until denial from my face went away.
Self examination is at first excruciating.
Truth on display,
Doesn't fake to a fade or play charade.
Or masquerade its significance.
It comes too real with a feeling that's adorned!
And as often as I repeat this...
Truth as it was introduced to me,
Has not changed since its delivery.
In fact within me it remains on!
And the more I demand it around me,
The clearer I see the stronger its appearance gets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cooked
What's the use?
Give it best;
Cut her loose;
Have a rest.
Hope is dead;
Gloom collects,
Nuff is said
Cook objects.
Moth and rust
Hither lurk;
All is bust,
Knock off work.
Nation's great
Architects,
Clean the slate;
Cook objects.
Oh the schemes
That we planned!
Dreaming dreams
For the land.
All in vain.
Hope neglects
To remain;
Cook objects.
Navy; what?
Army too?
Blessed rot;
All is blue.
It's all one
Who protects.
dropp your gun;
Cook objects.
Let her rip,
All is up.
Have to sip
Bitter cup.
Tear your hair
Woe connects
With despair,
Cook objects.
Fellow Aust
Ralians,
Trouble's crossed
All our plans.
Seek the tomb;
Fate selects
Us for doom.
Cook objects.
Death marks us
For his own.
(Grisly cuss.)
Our head-tone,
With a laugh,
He erects.
Epitaph
'Cook objects.'
dropp a tear;
Heave a sigh;
End is near;
Say goodbye.
Sell up home
And effects.
(Dismal pome)
Cook objects.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Undress me! ! ! ! !
Living under a cover
Hiding me.....
Undress my emotions
I want to break free
The inside clown
Long left the stage
Under his mask
A human disguised
Friend, foe or love
This human decides
Changes identity
Changes faces
Amidst the crowd
Masks to change
How do i select? ? ?
When i've lost the clown......
Humans are not unique
Indeed not
Carrying their masks along
Identical and fake
My lost identity
Glued with masks
Shed me off this burden
Undress me
Undress me............
poem by Royston Serrao
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That is the great distinction between the sexes. Men see objects, women see the relationships between objects.
quote by John Fowles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mathematicians do not study objects, but relations between objects.
quote by Henri Poincare
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Faces Of Innocence On Them
'I have sinned.'
This confession has been given,
Over and over again.
An admission without end,
Coming from those who pretend...
To sit in high places,
With faces of innocence on them.
'I too have eluded the truth.'
Comments coming from those,
Who choose to wear sheepskin...
To cover their temptations,
And lust filled whims.
But wouldn't it be great,
For those to disrobe of their masquerades.
With attempts to prove that others,
Are living lives in the gutters.
And yet...
The ones who charade,
Say in their self righteous ways...
That 'they' have been called upon from God,
To save those walking on wrong paths...
And must be 'guided' from 'their' evil ways.
And 'they'...
With one eye open,
Request all to close their eyes to pray!
~Cut me some slack,
From these backsliders...
Riding high in denial and hiding,
Until caught.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fake Holiday
Cards
candies
stuffed animals
flowers
All of these are objects
objects that are bought
objects that are given
objects masking falsehood
Valentine's Day
it is suppose to be a holiday about love
about expressing that love
with things
Where is its background
what god/goddess inspired it
what event in history made this day
why do we celebrate Valentine's Day
Some say it is to celebrate love
I say that you should do that every day
love is a blessing
not an icon that gets only one day of worship
Valentine's Day
is about putting money in a salesmen's pocket
is about the false worship of love
is a holiday without foundation
Love should not be worshipped one day out of the year
love should be treasured everyday
you shouldn't need a holiday
to tell the one you love...
'I love you.'
poem by Kaysen Fraker
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A Scientific Approach
Certain perceived objects
conveyed convincingly
symbolize moment distilled images
culturally accepted objects
confirmative valid ideas.
Certain examined objects
recognized perceptively
observable phenomena splices
symbolize scientific defined data
tested rigorous repeated experiments
accepted principles proven perceptions
academic solid scientific fact affirmations.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It may be added, to prevent misunderstanding, that when I speak of contemplated objects in this last phrase as objects of contemplation, the act of contemplation itself is of course an enjoyment.
quote by Samuel Alexander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A good government implies two things; first, fidelity to the objects of the government; secondly, a knowledge of the means, by which those objects can be best attained.
quote by Joseph Story
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even Objects Around Me
I almost want to ask you to leave my head
Living without you makes me feel dead
The reminder that I'm alone with you is everywhere
It's the kinda that will tear
My mind into pieces, but slowly, painfully, and quietly
That's how it kills me
Because you're even in objects around me
You've been in this house, so you can see
How things all around remind me
About times we've had
Or maybe just time and isn't that sad?
That's all you gave me to cling to?
What were you
Thinking? !
And yet I'm sinking
Drowning in my memories of you, that remind me of desire and love
That remind of hurt and the one sided nature
Maybe it's time to be mature
And just grow up but all around me I'm reminded of you
Even objects speak to me about you, even places in my house too
I can't get you out of my head!
Is this love or something else? !
We barely have memories but I can't let go of you
We barely have memories together but that's all you've got of me too...
Do you think of me, it almost makes me cry
To wonder if you do because you probably don't, why can't my feelings die
Especially when you don't feed them
Especially when you seem to avoid me like a saint to sin
How can I get away from you when even objects cry out against me
They cause me to see
That either I really love you
Or I just can't think stop thinking about you...
The only conclusion I can come to
Is that even objects around me love you too
poem by David Knox
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Under Your Pillow Is...
Prior,
Precautions,
Enforce! !
Placed under your pillow is my picture;
But your neighbour is unauthorized to see it.
Of the hard objects and the sharp objects,
More and more with heavy metals to respect your muse!
But placed under your pillow is my image,
Because i am always on your mind! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Objects
Inanimate objects are always correct and cannot, unfortunately, be reproached with anything. I have never observed a chair shift from one foot to another, or a bed rear on its hind legs. And tables, even when they are tired, will not dare to bend their knees. I suspect that objects do this from pedagogical considerations, to reprove us constantly for our instability.
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Of and for interest
Some are objects of interest;
Some are objects for interest.
Women to men are both.
04.08.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Objects In The Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are
Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
The skies were pure and the fields were green
And the sun was brighter than its ever been
When I grew up with my best friend kenny
We were close as any brothers than you ever knew
It was always summer and the future called
We were ready for adventures and we wanted them all
And there was so much left to dream and so much time to make it real
But I can still recall the sting of all the tears when he was gone
They said he crashed and burned
I know Ill never learn why any boy should die so young
We were racing, we were soldiers of fortune
We got in trouble but we sure got around
There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark
I think hes right behind me now and hes gaining ground
But it was long ago and it was far away, oh God it seems so very far
And if life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And when the sun descended and the night arose
I heard my father cursing everyone he knows
He was dangerous and drunk and defeated
And corroded by failure and envy and hate
There were endless winters and the dreams would freeze
Nowhere to hide and no leaves on the trees
And my fathers eyes were blank as he hit me again and again and again
I know I still believe hed never let me leave, I had to run away alone
So many threats and fears, so many wasted years before my life became
My own
And though the nightmares should be over
Some of the terrors are still intact
Ill hear that ugly coarse and violent voice
And then he grabs me from behind and then he pulls me back
There was a beauty living on the edge of town
And she always put the top up and the hammer down
And she taught me everything Ill ever know
About the mystery and the muscle of love
The stars would glimmer and the moon would glow
Im in the back seat with my julie like a romeo
And the signs along the highway all said, caution! kids at play!
Those were the rights of spring and we did everything
There was salvation every night
We got our dreams reborn and our upholstery torn
But everything we tried was right
She used her body just like a bandage
She used my body just like a wound
Ill probably never know where she disappeared
But I can see her rising up out of the back seat now
Just like an angel rising up from a tomb
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
She used her body just like a bandage
She used my body just like a wound
Ill probably never know where she disappeared
But I can see her rising up out of the back seat now
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fake
I myself is fake and roaming
Here for your goodsake.
Have patience and understand
My word my emotion.
You are my surity
In this land of nothingness.
I am your security
In this world of happiness.
I am fake coming and going
With a purpose that is not known.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The pottery
In the common clay,
Transformed by modeling
I imprison my idea.
Every time you pass,
You stop to look
For a moment,
At my art objects,
Delicately modeled in shape.
They gain color in light.
Many potters expose objects
In that place,
But you know which are mine,
Even without my signature,
I think only of you
When I make them to appear real.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Realists versus the Rest (Artists)
realists look for the heart
and soul in their objects
to cloth them with colours
others pesevere to put their
heart and soul in their objects
so that they become a part of
their colourful selves
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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~Sit and Spin~
Sit and spin
Cut and bleed,
There is no loss
cause there's no need.
I'll try and make things
real for you,
Come step within
as I turn blue.
Can't make it work
it's never right,
As you let go
loss grips me tight...
There is no story
for me to tell,
Guess I'll fake it
Please wish me well.
11-22-07
poem by Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun
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