Those' Images Made
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made.
People love to treasure those images made.
The ones flowered to sugar without a bitter taste.
Those images glammed up to spotlight,
On a public stage.
But behind the scenes indignities can be mean.
Yet...
People love to treasure those images made.
And their minds are affixed to them to defend...
Every blemish that is openly seen.
Since people who love their images made...
Have not been conditioned on reality to feast.
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made,
With an excusing of detrimental flaws and pain shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Images of Time
The images in my mind is like my thoughts.
Expressing my thoughts is like expressing my feelings.
Words are spoken.All my images are broken.
Broken down into pieces, which can never be made into new dishes.
Those images of past.It takes time to last.
It will last forever for met to take over.
All those images wore my past life.
But it has nothing to do with my past life.
Those images can be forgotten.But not those people.
Those people who are in your images.Can be in a real image.
When you see those people in front of you.
You like to say 'How are you'?
If they say I am fine.Then you will think of those time.
poem by Yash Pradhan
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Images
I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indelible Images
Idelible Images
That first day of school
That first friend
Indelible Images
That first play
That first fight
Idelible Images
That first graduation
That first car
Idelible Images
That first drunk
That first sober
Idelible Images
That first love
That first forget
Idelible Images
That first death
That first realization
Indelible Images
poem by Scott Tetreault
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Although images of perfection in people's personal lives can cause unhappiness, images of perfect societies - utopian images - can cause monstrous evil. In fact, forcefully changing society to conform to societal images was the greatest cause of evil in the twentieth century.
quote by Dennis Prager
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Culprits Of Upheaval
People want their images to be left alone.
Even if those images created,
Have nothing to do with reality.
And only with reality do people have their conflicts.
To despise the truth as it is presented,
With a seeking to deem those who represent it...
As troublemakers.
While those who deceive them,
Are perceived as being misunderstood.
And 'if' given more chances...
They would bring more clarity to their nonsense.
As those who are the true trouble makers,
Will be revealed as the culprits of upheaval.
But what is needed to prove this,
Is more money to finance evil campaigns.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Images
Images.
Images invented.
Images invented to cement.
Images invented to cement and limit,
To give images purpose and intent.
A reason to solidify limitations that prevent,
A bombardment of unrestricted imaginations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Given To Be Myth-ed
Messengers with messages sent,
Has been done.
Yet...
Many await the evidence brought to them,
By images they have created...
To make the seriousness of the messages,
Worthy of them to pay attention.
And unfortunately...
Physical images given to be myth-ed,
To have people convinced to believe...
Have never existed in reality.
Especially when truth,
Has been easily distorted and fed to deceive.
And 'THAT' which 'IS' is aware of this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Robert II
Your love to me was like the ways of interpreting reality,
And with images so close to my eyes at times;
But i will live on to call your name always,
For Robert is your sweet name on this muse of love.
Where are the birds that flew over us yesterday?
For my love will last forever with you,
And like the images of love that you introduced me to.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Images Presented
The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The desired one is not desired.
Those days’ actresses whose images once
Captivated you, will fail to do now.
The frame in the brain holding those images
Had changed to hold the images of new ones.’.
25.02.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Images
All the images that occur in my mind
have had me think of places.
I may not have seen them in this life
But then again my memory erases
where they are from or why they are seen.
Could they be from another time?
They seem to haunt my being.
Oh that I could remember
what it is I'm seeing?
They're all mixed up with love and death
and I confess my need to know
why they've surfaced in my mind
and why they never let go.
I remember the images mostly at night
right before I sleep.
They form water-colored pictures
and sometimes make me weep.
not from sadness, but from joy.
For the images have made me think
that they have surfaced for some reason.
So from them I do not shrink.
I want them to stay. I really do.
For they connect to who I am.
For I've known since I was very young
that life after death comes again.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Trapped Satisfaction
When people thoughtlessly,
Trash their own streets.
And speak from mouths filled,
With garbage...
I don't want to know or wish to discover,
'Where' their minds are at!
Nor do I desire to know 'why'...
They are socially dysfunctional.
These images were purposely invented.
Too many have latched onto a batch of lies.
If this is the life they have chosen to live...
'Some thing' or someone,
Much more influential than me...
Created a reality for them,
They have found acceptable...
To neglect AND defend as if treasured.
I am just grateful to be blessed,
My treasure chest...
Is not packed with that kind of trapped satisfaction.
Or bestowed with delusions I could not undo.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I have wanted to be a fine artist painter, and I reached the point in art schools were I'd like to understand more about images and how images communicate information to people. And I was not getting very far in that from my professors.
quote by John Hench
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Images
'Santa Sindone'! !
And the people worshipped images;
Of paintings, sculptures, status and materials!
Yet still, they forget to read Exodus Chapter 20.
'La Consolata'! !
And the people worshipped images everywhere;
And now they claim to have the truth!
But a day comes when they will know that they are lost.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The essence of cinema is editing. It's the combination of what can be extraordinary images of people during emotional moments, or images in a general sense, put together in a kind of alchemy.
quote by Francis Ford Coppola
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dark Cloud
You exist only in your light that you created. And here the sound of your sadness cry aloud in your dark space, the shadows of witch you bare witness are people like images of the pain that exist on thee inside of you, and there you smile at thee image and call it a her, and when you get a clear view it's really images of your hurt.
poem by Clarence Williams
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Little black box called Television!
I watch it
Morning, day and night
The plasma screens are quite a sight
Soap Operas, Reality Shows, Movies
I watch anything there is to see
But the little black box called Television
Gets on my nerves
Images of other people’s life it serves
As a daily dish to my vision
Even my own ideas about fashion
Are ruthlessly destroyed in its mission
To impose on me of how to live
But I love Television
I am addicted to Television
Like glue is to paper
Or love making is to a beginner
I am its concubine with my permission
Please at me, don't point a finger
When I am lonely
It is easier to pretend
The images presented by TV
Are my friends
When I am horny
Without sounding funny
I can make love in my bed
After breakfast in bed
To anyone from the TVs images
Now endorsed into my head
That little black box
Sucks, it really sucks
It is just a vicious circle
Bed, Work, Television and Bed
Bed, Work, Television and Bed
Bed, Work, Television and Bed
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Images Birth Wet Paint Born
wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
images birth wet paint born
images born in liquid imagination
images born in landscape infinity
images born in individual creativity
images born in artistic genius ability
images born in limitless multiplicity
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Layers Of Wet Paint Applied’ and ‘Interactions Invoke Imagination Entrances’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.
Padlocked In A Box To Stop Further Production
No,
I would not say I could ever be an image maker.
That kind of responsibility should require tact.
At least 'some' of it with no holding back.
However,
I can say I am an observer of those images made.
With a wish I had been consulted,
Prior to their creations.
Since many rear-ends seen today seem on purpose to offend.
And it is impossible for me to be the only one insulted by them.
With the brimming to the rim to spill such disgusting 'butts'.
And a freedom given to have some of them I've seen,
Exposed like they are to parade publicly on the streets.
My vision increasingly has become demeaned.
No,
I would not say I could ever be an image maker.
However,
I can say I am an observer of those images made.
With a wish I had been consulted,
Prior to their creations.
Padlocked in a box to stop further production.
With a key to bury never to be found.
That's how I would have handled...
Many of today's images that have gotten out of hand.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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