You Can't Get This From A Seminar
You can't get this,
From a seminar.
Or fit this quick,
In a seminar.
Or manifest,
To digest.
From notes to be tested.
In a seminar...
To piece together.
Or pick apart.
This has to be seasoned.
And marinate in love.
Ingredients must cement,
Intentions meant.
No you can't get this,
From a seminar.
Nor fit this quick,
In a seminar.
To piece together.
Or pick apart.
This has to be seasoned.
And marinate in love.
No you can't get this,
From a seminar.
Nor fit this quick,
In a seminar.
Ingredients must cement...
Intentions meant.
Ingredients must cement...
Intentions meant.
No you can't get this,
From a seminar.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
During one of my early seminars, there were a bunch of seminar junkies there.
quote by Leonard Orr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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During my early years at Minnesota I conducted an evening enzyme seminar.
quote by Paul D. Boyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's rather like attending a university seminar where you are talking to a few gifted specialists who deliver a paper to an audience of their peers. That's one way of making music.
quote by Gavin Bryars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I go to a seminar and someone like you or someone like him is talking, I'm never part of the group that rushes him directly afterward. I always wait in the back corner with my head down until everyone is gone, and then I go up and do my thing.
quote by Arthur Godfrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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RESEARCH ON RECURSIVE FUNCTIONS, LOGIC AND THEORY OF DEMONSTRATION - In 1927, the Romanian mathematician Gabriel Sudan (1899-1977), with his doctorate at David Hilbert, gave the first example of a recursive function that is not primitive recursive, before Wilhelm Ackermann ( 1928). Between 1934-1942, at the University of Iași, the mathematician Grigore C. Moisil (1906-1973) dealt with "Logic and the theory of demonstration" and aiming to "learn mathematics from the beginning", he studied at the "wonderful library" of the Mathematical Seminar in Iași, the book by Hilbert and Ackermann, but also the 3 volumes “Principia Mathematica” by Russel and Whitehead. Professor Moisil learned about Lukasiewicz's multi-valued logics in the spring of 1935, when T. Kotarbinski, a professor at the University of Warsaw, gave 3 public lectures and a short lecture at the Mathematical Seminar on Lukasiewicz's writing without parentheses. .
Marin Vlada in ROINFO Romanian Informatics 2018-2022
Submitted by Marin Vlada
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There is no support for love… as I have told you: to give one’s love, is very precisely and essentially to give as such nothing of what one has, because it is precisely in so far as one does not have it that there is a question of love.
Jacques Lacan in Seminar V, The Formations of the Unconscious (7 May 1958)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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The Caretaker of Unity
Things have changed?
I find that remarkable.
So much so...
That those responsible,
For the division inflicted years ago...
Are now claiming to be advocates,
For a much needed diversity.
And they 'selected' you to be who?
The 'Caretaker of Unity'?
Oh...
And this weekend,
They are coming in from suburbia...
To conduct their first seminar,
Based upon ethnic tolerance?
I do find that interesting!
But attending?
No!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Domestic Shades- 14
Fresh like the first ray
Freshened like the tickled lotus
She's in her school
Beguiled to feel joyfully secured
In the boat of same sailing kids..
They say freedom within limits..
My daughter says
'To learn to be obedient
To do all by themselves
To keep the shoes first thing in the stand'...
Back home
Happy birth day she sings
To everybody and Dhanam(maid)
Humming do..le...li...lo...le...
Hurling one shoe off there
Another one out through the window
Fifteen months old
My grand-daughter took me later
For a seminar class
To learn how to raise a baby
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A Poem For Prolix
Tediously wordy.
the Latin prolixus
(extended, poured) ,
from liquere (to flow) ,
the source of words such as liquid,
liquor,
licorice.
Now do you see the connection - why consuming lots of Tanduay 65
make the teachers of Cancainap
prolix?
Let me try using the word,
No one has ever called her prolix.
At a seminar sponsored by the DECS,
Miss Manolita mumbled a few introductory words
and then sat in silence,
eyebrows arched,
arms folded,
for the remaining two loveless days.
She misses someone
No, not the prolix poet
But the sylvan lover.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Miss my Spring
The spring takes leave as soon as it peeps
Says go, blooming flowers and giving sudden wind.
The spring comes only to maintain its rule, we cannot
Touch its deep. The spring did not sing the sky
Of the Bangladesh after the poet Rabindranath
These is no such noteworthy research is done in course
Of the short existence of spring. It is not discussed in
the seminar. Only a few poets wrote a few lines on some
poems of lamentations. We shall not get back
the spring as we the poet does. Only singing
(poet) song and seeing the yellow cloth
wearing women. We shall recollect it with
joy once the spring was in the royal throne
poem by Ravisankar Maitree
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Seminar
By a show of hands.
How many of you discovered,
You had increased difficulty...
Dealing with reality last year?
Excellent. Excellent.
The numbers are dwindling.
Now!
By a show of hands...
How many believed that having good credit,
Meant spending like there was no tomorrow?
I see!
We have some reluctant participants in the audience!
Did any of you think...
You were better off than those who could 'not' get credit?
AND bragged about the number of credit cards you had...
AND have maxed them to their limits?
Please...no crying!
Will someone pass tissue,
To those sobbing loudly in the back row!
I have a surprise for all of you!
Yes...
Please escort them in!
These people,
Ladies and gentlemen.
Are the very same people you had no problems laughing at...
Just 'months' ago!
See those smiles upon their faces?
Well...
In this seminar,
They are willing to prepare beans and franks.
AND lend you their can openers...
For one week to anyone of you,
Who agrees to clean their apartments.
By a show of hands...
How many wish to take them up on their offer?
Settle down. Settle down.
We will sign up as many of you as possible.
No need to rush them.
They have been known to be a patient group of people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Effects of Racism
I was once invited to participate,
In a seminar.
To discuss the effects of racism,
Conducted many miles away in an isolated
Remote area
Distanced from where the effects took place.
Near my home.
And I was to be the only Black to appear,
On this prestigious panel.
I declined the offer.
Since I felt it was ridiculous,
To remove myself away from those 'effects'
While in discussion with others,
Who kept perpetuated the acceptance
Of expressed indifferences.
Plus I had attended another affair,
At the same location...
As others listened intently,
While I explained reasons for wearing my hair
In dreads!
And if it had an affect on my identity.
I was then asked to come again,
Next time I was in the area.
As if these 'settings' would be missed,
In my life!
And those who 'sympathized' with my plight,
Would embrace my need to receive their acceptance.
With an understanding of my internal turmoil.
Which, of course, had to depress,
My sensibilities.
Yes!
Only an eyewitness experiencing this,
Would appreciate the sacrifices I make.
Living amongst those who have not been so 'chosen'
To escape from their deprived and substandard conditions.
Inflicted upon them by those less liberal of deed.
I feel so blessed to be honored,
By those 'willing' to share their comfort zones!
However...
There is something about my own environment,
That affords me the freedom to express less pretentiousness.
Although I must say this,
Being a 'victim' of those who are racists...
Has, at times, been to my benefit.
At least I know where they are coming from.
And I have been given opportunities to avoid them!
With a choice to leave them and their preceptions,
'Impressed' upon their limited consciousness.
And I,
Could leave them alone to glorify their intentions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exquisite B.S.
Exquisite B.S.
Finessed at its best.
This wont sit to become fossilized.
Maneuvered?
Yes!
The finest B.S.
Gets to be marketed.
Exquisite B.S.
Tested for perfection.
To leave no guessing game to correct.
As this exquisite B.S. is set...
To endure without stopping.
To ensure its success.
No remnants will be left,
To forge with a defense...
By those unconvinced,
It is solidly based in cement.
And will not ferment...
As circumvented intentions meant,
Are sent.
This is exquisite B.S. to document!
To subdue those who protest.
And addict those who confess...
A weakness they get.
As if to crave a feeding,
With a licking of lips with a wish...
For more of it.
To induce into seduction,
With an unlimited fix.
Until the power of thinking,
Independently...
Lifts from minds,
That are drugged to drift!
Exquisite B.S.
Yes!
Yes!
YESSSSS!
And as delicious to offset,
Any cure that should manifest...
With attempts to correct!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Lifting
Grounded, 5 a.m., the nightlite is comforting
But gravity is holding you.
Once settled into sleep,
You have watched
On repeat the story of your life
Across the ceiling
And in review.
Youve said the air was singing.
Its calling you, you dont believe.
These things youve never seen.
Good morning, how are you?
The weathers fine,
The sky is blue.
Its perfect for our seminar.
Now close your eyes and start to breathe,
Allow the noise to recede,
Allow yourself to drift and fly away.
But you just stay.
Youve said the air was singing,
Its calling you, you dont believe
These things youve never seen,
Never heard.
Did you hear these voices?
Did you hear these voices calling?
Did you hear these voices calling you?
Locked into a conference room,
Were only what our minds assume
And rationale is leaving you.
This conceit these systems of belief
Your counselor agrees
You always mark these boundaries now youre free
And with relief.
Youve said the air was singing,
Its calling you, you dont believe
These things youve never seen,
Never heard, never dreamed.
You said the air was singing,
Its calling you, you dont believe
These things youve never seen,
Never heard, never dreamed.
Never, never, never...
Once you had a dream
Of oceans and sunken cities,
Memories of things youve never known
And you have left alone.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An isolated shack beside the Railroad
Only after the last night's train passed
They get a proper sleep on the cracked floor?
And children get up early in the morning
to the train's annoyed hooting!
But none of them go to school
As the infectious rats were eaten
Their tattered certificates of birth?
Unlettered father and sympathetic mother
pacify them that they have planned
One day to go on a train journey
Somewhere around hill side
Where the diamond mountains touch
The sky & Heaven!
In their sugary dreams near by dawn
Children see the train goes faster
Passing the skyscrapers in the city.
And one pulled the chain merrily.
Train stopped and they woke up.
O they observed the barren sky
Through their holey thatched roof!
Rich trains go in the right time as usual
with the rowdy hoot!
And the shearing skinny children never grumble on picnics
Poor parents too won't discuss the planned trip often
Ultimately all in the shack got used to the life's boring excursion?
[Remember the Econ-teacher once asked me about the restricted word 'Exploitation' in a college seminar.Then I replied; 'Who's stolen the poor man's wealth and deposited in Swiss Banks? ]
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Virginia is no Place for Virgins
At William and Mary College will have a seminar,
Which will feature sex workers both near and afar,
It is a sort of ‘job career’ type of function I guess,
it’s not for prudish snobs,
The Sex Workers' Art Show will return to Virginia's College of William and Mary for the fourth straight year. Monday night's show features strippers, hookers and other sex workers performing and talking about their jobs.
There will be a pubic forum -check that, - a public forum
They will talk about real things, each one isn’t a fool,
For example, Jo Weldon shared her story of how a stripper job helped pay her way through college and graduate school.
A woman named Dirty Martini, who weighed more than 200 pounds, did a striptease in a G-string and pasties, while a woman named Cono Snatch Zubobinskaya gave an anti-war performance that included a dildo shaped like a gun, the newspaper said.
I wonder they will have stats that include people in the sex industry, who land up dead.
It will not hosted in a dorm,
Some people have complained a college is no place for sex workers to perform.
Most of it, I take it, will be for free,
As Yakov Smirnoff stated “What a country! ”
This will never happen at Texas A & M.
(3-23-09)
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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No Residency There Is Permanent
You have a bird's eye view...
With a crowing done you do.
To boast about nonstop.
From your position...
At the top.
And you believe to keep it,
Is an ease to block.
As you remain where you are...
Secured in a safety zone,
Kept locked with eyes on stars.
But like some others,
You can hit rock bottom.
And whether you like it or not...
It is recommended,
To stop and avoid your peacocking.
No residency there is permanent.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Odds you choose will lose.
Don't be that big a fool.
You have a bird's eye view...
Don't be that big a fool.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Someone's always there to circumvent.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.
And you believe to keep it,
Is an ease to block.
As you remain where you are...
Secured in a safety zone,
Kept locked.
But no...
Residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Odds you choose will lose.
Don't be that big a fool.
Today you've got that view...
Tomorrow you could lose!
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Today you've got that view...
Tomorrow you could lose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Read Between My Lines
I'm going to make it easier for you,
To read between my lines.
Since you are convinced...
You are aware of my intentions!
Ready?
------------?
------------
------------! !
And...
------------?
There!
Feel free to interpret my every word.
With specific intentions you believe I meant.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rick Frishman The Publicity Guru
Bestselling author and speaker is Rick Frishman,
he is an expert on teaching publicity first hand.
He has a great website for writers to boot,
www.rickfrishman.com and he shows writers how to toot.
Toot your own horn to get on radio or t.v.,
he promoted author Barbara De Angelis for all the world to see,
See how helpful her self-help books can really be.
Rick also does a seminar that helps authors go into print,
leading them away from "print on demand" to NYC giants.
Now I went to Las Vegas and met Rick Frishman there,
He is very personable and really does care.
I have couple of his books, "Show me about Book Publishing"
I bought this book last year,
"Author 101 Bestselling Book Publicity", which makes publicity very clear.
Very good resource books that I keep very near
Rick gives a lot of information in all his books I read,
I will reread all of them and take heed.
I now make my "silver bullet" or elevator speech,
to give my books a "hook" and make them succeed.
Thank you Rick Frishman for sharing your knowledge
with all new writers and me.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 23,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
www.suzaechevalier.com www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Say Something
Have you ever gotten tired of hearing,
From those who say...
'I have good intentions.'
As if that statement is up for debate.
If anyone had good intentions,
Wouldn't you think,
Those intentions clearly...
Would be done and not mentioned?
It's like someone who has an expectation.
And the rising of excitement,
That teases with anticipation.
A frustration enters,
When disappointment arrives.
And here it is...
Excuses and lies!
Have you ever gotten tired of hearing,
From those who say...
'I have good intentions.'
As if that statement is up for debate.
And you are left sitting to wonder,
Between hesitation and comments to make.
But your lips remain sealed.
However...
Your eyes are not connected,
To an expected acceptance of your patience.
'You look as if you can kill me!
Say something.
I meant to call you.
You know that.
Say something.
Say 'something'...
Anything! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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