After the bare requisites of living and reproducing, man wants most to leave some record of himself, a proof, perhaps, that he has really existed. He leaves his proof on wood, on stone, or on the lives of other people. This deep desire exists in everyone, from the boy who scribbles on a wall to the Buddha who etches his image in the race mind. Life is so unreal. I think that we seriously doubt that we exist and go about trying to prove that we do.
John Steinbeck in The Pastures of Heaven
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovin Proof
(dianne warren)
I know some lovers would be satisfied
With sweet I love yous and some pretty lines
But that wont get you in this heart of mine
No, youll never steal my heart away
With just words, sweet words that you say
It is all in the things that you do
Im telling you
If you want me to believe
That Im the only one you need
I need lovin proof
I need lovin proof
Baby, hold me in your arms
And show me something from the heart
Give me lovin proof
I need lovin proof from you
And if the love you got is strong and true
And if you love me like you say you do
Your tender touch will tell the honest truth
And your kiss could never tell a lie
cause Id see it in your eyes
There is one way to ease any doubt
I tell you now
If you want me to believe
That Im the only one you need
I need lovin proof
I need lovin proof
Baby, I wont be impressed
Unless I get some tenderness
Give me lovin proof
I need lovin proof, oh, oh, from you, oh, oh
(I need lovin proof)
If the love is right
(I need lovin proof)
Prove it, prove it all night
(I need lovin proof)
From you
cause youll never steal my heart away
With just words, sweet words that you say
It is all in the things you do
Im telling you, telling you baby
If you want me to believe
That Im the only one you need
I need lovin proof
I need lovin proof
Baby, hold me in your arms
And tell me something from the heart
I need lovin proof
Give me lovin proof, oh, oh, from you
If you want me to believe
That Im the only one I need
I need lovin proof
Lovin proof
Baby, hold me in your arms
And show me, show me
Give me lovin proof
I need lovin proof
Ooh, baby, baby
Ooh, ooh
Give me, give me, give me
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Proof
Soon our fortunes will be made, my darling
And we will leave this loathsome little town
Silver bells jingling from your black lizard boots, my baby
Silver foil to trim your wedding gown
Its true the tools of love wear down
Time passes
A mind wanders
It seems mindless, but it does
Sometimes I see you face
As if through reading glasses
And your smile seems softer than it was
Proof
Some people gonna call you up
Tell you something that you already know
Proof
Sane people go crazy on you
Say no man, that was not
The deal we made
I got to go, I got to go
Faith
Faith is an island in the setting sun
But proof, yes
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
My face, my race
Dont matter anymore
My sex, my cheques
Accepted at the door
Proof
Some people gonna call you up
Tell you something that you already know
Proof
Sane people go crazy on you
Say no man, that was not
The deal we made
I got to, I got to go
Faith
Faith is an island in the setting sun
But proof, yes
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
Half moon hiding in the clouds, my darling
And the sky is flecked with signs of hope
Raise your weary wings against the rain, my baby
Wash your tangled curls with gamblers soap
Proof
Some people gonna call you up
Tell you something that you already know
Sane people go crazy on you
Say no man, that was not
The deal we made
I got to, I got to, I got to
Faith
Faith is an island in the setting sun
But proof, yes
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A proof is a proof. What kind of a proof? It's a proof. A proof is a proof. And when you have a good proof, it's because it's proven.
quote by Jean Chretien
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature
Nature is a purifier, a converting machine
If it's not so than life can't be seen
How dirty we are! Rivers are the proof
How selfish we are! Pollution is the proof
How ugly we are! Arms and ammunition is the proof
We are the destroyer a polluting ruffian
If it's not so than power strife can't be seen
How negligent we are! Water level is the proof
How foolish we are! Japan is the proof
How mad we are! War is the proof
O! Nature! Thou art divine providence
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
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When They Deny 'You
WHEN THEY DENY ‘YOU’
When they deny You
And indict You
And mock You
And prove You do not exist
I feel a certain despair
And pray to You with greater desperation.
Why don’t You give us simple proof?
Why do You allow so many horrors in the world
Which speak against You?
Why must I need You so much?
And why I must have to look
To the Beauty of this world and the goodness of my life
To strengthen my faith in You?
Why must I live too in question and doubt
Needing and loving You nonetheless
Fearing You too to the depth of my childhood?
Oh God
Give me more proof each day
With all the thousands and thousands of kindnesses
You have given
I ask for still more.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Bulletproof
Limb by limb and tooth by tooth
It's tearing up inside of me
Everyday, every hour wish that I
Was bullet proof
Wax me
Mould me
Heat the pins and stab them in
You have turned me into this
Just wish that it
Was bullet proof
Was bullet proof
So pay me money and take a shot
Lead-fill the hole in me
I could burst a million bubbles
All surrogate
And bullet proof
And bullet proof
And bullet proof
And bullet proof
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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60% Proof
alcoholic drinks
are measured by their
percent proof,
For example,
a 'six proof' beer
would have 3% alcohol,
barely any,
while a strong liqueur
that advertised it was 80 proof
would have
40% alcohol.
It isn't, however, quite that simple...
there are other
complications, but that
is not my point
here,
what about poetry?
what kind of
proof is this
poetry that makes
you drunk?
or do you want
something to make
you sober?
you get high?
you want to?
ah, try putting
alcohol in your
words,
give it the
kind of proof
needed,
then say, ahh,
this is real poetry
this certain relief
from the harsh
realities of our lives,
this ahhh,
ahhhh, ahhhh
oh God!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Absolute proof.
Absolute proof
Blood, sweat and tears don’t disappear
But always leave some trace behind.
Forensic science makes it clear
there’s always something we can find
A fibre here or just a hair.
A finger print that you have missed.
All tend to prove that you were there.
The smallest clue can still persist.
You’re sure; you’ll get away Scott free
The evidence says otherwise.
It will prove quite definitely.
Your alibi’s a pack of lies.
The final proof your DNA.
Will prove to you crime does not pay.
Wednesday,22 September 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I mean the word proof not in the sense of the lawyers, who set two half proofs equal to a whole one, but in the sense of a mathematician, where half proof = 0, and it is demanded for proof that every doubt becomes impossible.
quote by Carl Friedrich Gauss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Staring Them In the Face As Proof
To 'know' God is to be 'free' of inhibitions...
Pretensions and superstitions,
Those demonic live to identify.
To restrict consciousness to limits.
With attempts to keep what is valued unchanged.
And controlled
By delusion and the enforcement of conflict!
But then again...
Some folks are waiting for evidence that God exists.
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!
And the Earth,
The living reason that affords all to leech upon it...
Shakes everywhere beneath their fragile feet.
With the hope of awakening a broadened consciousness.
And the knowledge that man made time is not on their side,
Waiting in an understood patience...
For absent minds to decide,
Which 'fate' is more acceptable to take.
And which one should be left,
To address in debate!
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bleeding Edge (Death Poem)
Change is living every second.
For me, it is the spice of life,
Proof that I am not dead – yet,
Living on the bleeding edge today.
Changeless, death by boredom.
For some, it is the sea of tranquillity,
Proof alas, that dead can also be alive
Living, but dying by seconds daily.
poem by Ian Beckett
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There are such beings as vampires, some of us have evidence that they exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy experience, the teachings and the records of the past give proof enough for sane peoples.
quote by Bram Stoker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Manifesto [ORIGINAL & REVISED]
[REVISED]
Okay – I admit romance does not exist, at least
not in this quaint veracity which claims it has a
place somewhere but rarely ever here
I shall not cry about discovery of circumstance
that fact is non-existent in romance – reality a
chance one does not really have to see
Anyone can prove it lives eternally in dreams, a
never dying sustenance of many Worlds beliefs
with energies too dominant to ever die
If fantasy alive and well then I admit against my
better judgement I’ve been hurt; but add in haste
it does not matter since it truly breathes
In Worlds as infinite or parallel, I do not need the
proof of our reality – a mere perchance of it as
probability enough - the vastness of infinity
allows for every choice and dream or hope and
expectation to exist – I do not need accord to see
romance, or merely mention the ideal -
of fantasy, hopes, & dreams to make it true for me,
I shall avoid reality, live in dreams encompassing
imaginings I’ve always gladly had or harboured to
excess; therefore your attitude, and lack of feeling
means a blank to me; cannot kill the vision I shall
cherish from now on until eternity arrives…
[ORIGINAL]
Okay, I admit, romance does not exist – at least not
in this reality; but the fact that we can dream about
romance is proof it does exist somewhere
I shall not cry about my loss – discovering that
romance is non-existent – reality is only a mirage,
one parallel world amongst many – I do not need
Anyone to prove that romance lives on in our dreams,
nothing can kill it; no negative word, no pain, no dis-
illusionment, can kill the many worlds theory
Where fantasy is alive and well - I admit, against my
better judgement, I have been hurt; but hasten to add
it does not matter since romance is alive and well
In infinite parallel worlds - I do not need proof in our
little world of intersubjective reality – mere possibility
is probability enough - the vastness of infinity
Allows for every choice, dream, hope and expectation
to exist – I do not need you or anybody else to agree
to feel romance; merely mentioning the ideal -
- fantasy, hope and dream - makes it true for me, I shall
leave reality and live within a dream encompassing
every thought, hope and ideal
I have ever harboured; your attitude and being, your lack
of feeling, means nothing to me; cannot kill the vision
I cherish unto eternity…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Give Me Image
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
How else can it be expected,
I keep my pretensions alive and thriving?
Do not rid from me my freedom,
To exist living for images I see fit to project.
I can not bare the acceptance of the reality...
Thrown in my face I am suppose to respect!
Give me image!
Do not strip me of my need,
To seek quality delusions to please, eat and feed.
Give me image.
So that I may feel free,
To live in the midst of unending fantasies.
And aspects of threatening truth...
Disturbs my mentality!
As I witness it pursue the awakening of masses.
Pass me my rose colored glasses, please!
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
Let those images forever in my mind,
Find within me reason to exist!
Give me image.
And enough...
Enough of this,
Self righteous ambiguity.
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In my best friend's memory
Imagine, you alone know I exist
And I'm not sure you care enough
To pause and to imagine even this
My life-line, bonded in fragility
Together with the palpitating heart
Of worlds in which the living still persist
My dedicated number, postal box
E-mail address and names that keep
My last connections to the hosts remote
With no back-up, residual site
Except hard copy paper notes
You stuffed into the pocket of a winter coat
Imagine, I am known only by you
In this world, real and virtual alike
And I am weighed within your hands if not
Condemned already to your attic drawer
The tissues of a heart you left behind
A tiny scene in stories you forgot
However you erase or try to crush
The memories I scattered in this world
I will persist in calling you to find
These stubborn thoughts of me that will not die
That make my claim and furnish proof that I
Exist, or once existed in your mind.
poem by Frank Bana
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If You Don't Exist
then who will exist
for you?
who will record
who you are and what you
have done?
nobody.
nobody.
nobody
but you.
because just like you they also
think that they don't exist
come to think of it
if all of us do not exist at all
then who exists?
nothing
nothing
nothing
it is simply absurd when the world
moves and no one is
existing
i don't exist too.
because i have learned
to live.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Somebody, Somewhere Claims To Have Proof
Many with a minature flow grown old,
Have overblown and exposing bluff that disrupts.
Just to get the followers of doers to give up...
What they know effective and correct,
And not corrupt...
'Cause,
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof...
That the doers are the losers.
With lies they tell and try to hide.
Many with a minature flow grown old,
Have overblown and exposing bluff that disrupts.
Just to get the followers of doers to give up...
What they know effective and correct,
And not corrupt...
'Cause,
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof...
That the doers are the losers.
With lies they tell and try to hide.
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof...
But,
Where is it?
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof...
But,
Does it exist?
And...
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof...
That the doers are the losers.
Can a duck pass as a pheasant?
And...
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof.
But...
Where is it revealed?
And...
Somebody, somewhere claims to have proof,
Kept hidden and concealed.
Yet...
Somebody, somewhere confuses truth,
That those who 'Do' are not the losers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Proof Of Worth
Though victory's proof of the skill you possess,
Defeat is the proof of your grit;
A weakling can smile in his days of success,
But at trouble's first sign he will quit.
So the test of the heart and the test of your pluck
Isn't skies that are sunny and fair,
But how do you stand to the blow that is struck
And how do you battle despair?
A fool can seem wise when the pathway is clear
And it's easy to see the way out,
But the test of man's judgment is something to fear,
And what does he do when in doubt?
And the proof of his faith is the courage he shows
When sorrows lie deep in his breast;
It's the way that he suffers the griefs that he knows
That brings out his worst or his best.
The test of a man is how much he will bear
For a cause which he knows to be right,
How long will he stand in the depths of despair,
How much will he suffer and fight?
There are many to serve when the victory's near
And few are the hurts to be borne,
But it calls for a leader of courage to cheer
The men in a battle forlorn.
It's the way you hold out against odds that are great
That proves what your courage is worth,
It's the way that you stand to the bruises of fate
That shows up your stature and girth.
And victory's nothing but proof of your skill,
Veneered with a glory that's thin,
Unless it is proof of unfaltering will,
And unless you have suffered to win.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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Butterfly Pig
Butterfly Pig
by Ted L Glines
Ah, the strange and elusive
butterfly pig flapping
flapping swooping gliding
but where
we said
where dost fly that butterfly pig?
we searched the piney woods
the hidden mountain valleys
we searched the whole world over
but have not found
that cleverly hidden nest
of the mysterious
butterfly pig
but we will find it
mark my words
we will ne'er give up
this quest
(you think me obsessed)
for the hiding butterfly pig
for we have proof
beyond all shades of doubt
the butterfly pig exists
what proof you ask
you doubting thomas
but I will make you
eat your doubting words
for what do you see
right here
upon my kitchen counter
right there sitting on my counter
displayed so openly
see this package
all the proof you need
what does the label say?
read it you unbeliever
smirking lurking unbeliever
read that label and weep
for it plainly says
“Butterfly Pork Chops! ”
poem by Ted L Glines
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Medically Numbed
Where is the proof,
That there is a declining quality of life.
Where is the proof,
That minds have been affected...
By a relying on chemical diets.
And where is the proof...
Those depicted to be out of their minds,
Reflect a more accepted time...
Few have been too medically numbed to notice.
Or drugged to promote quick corner purchases.
'Pssst...
Yeah,
You.
How about getting that monkey off your back.
I've got a remedy for that.'
~That's MY SON,
Crack head.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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