The Last Beach
The last beach
the Colonel took
was concrete
and led
from his Caddy
to the Crystal Fountain Dining Lounge.
He bravely advanced
halfway
to his objective
under withering fire
from the
grenade-sized tumor
in his brain,
then collapsed.
Across the road
The Shellpoint Village Nursing Pavillion,
complete with hospice for the dying,
patiently awaited his arrival,
as manatees
calmly basked
in the Caloosahatchie.
His death now foretold
under the Florida sun,
he rose again,
commandeered
a wheeled dining chair,
took the objective,
and ate
like a man
with no tomorrows.
poem by Percy Dovetonsils
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Related quotes
We succeed only as we identify in life, or in war, or in anything else, a single overriding objective, and make all other considerations bend to that one objective.
quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower (2 April 1957)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We succeed only as we identify in life, or in war, or in anything else, a single overriding objective, and make all other considerations bend to that one objective.
quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't start with a design objective, I start with a communication objective. I feel my project is successful if it communicates what it is supposed to communicate.
quote by Mike Davidson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Difficult It Became To Be Objective
For many years I did my best,
To be objective.
With attempts to reject...
My own introspective thoughts.
Or be perceived as being,
Subjective in my perspective.
And yet be expected to accept.
But having experiences,
Kept me reflective.
And more difficult it became,
To be objective and remain...
Emotionally disconnected.
Especially when I became more affected,
By being the subject of much insensitivity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Priced to move quickly
This is an exclusive listing,
one of the nicer properties we've had.
If you like it, you should make an offer.
It won't stay on the market long.
They intended it as a retirement home.
The house itself is only five years old.
The kitchen is fully appliance,
everything in mint condition,
hardly used at all.
The dining area sits six.
If you remove this leaf,
it's perfect for two.
As we move into the living room
I should point out,
the larger sofa's a sleeper.
And look at this view!
You can walk across your lawn
and be at the beach.
They were married twenty-five years.
Notice that there are two full baths
with lots of counter space
and cupboards for storage.
The master bedroom gets sun all morning
and you have direct outside access
through these double doors.
The fence, streetside, and the trees in back
afford complete privacy.
There's a divorce involved.
They've attached a complete list
of everything that goes with the property.
It's all here, the dishes, pots and pans,
appliances, two sofas,
the dining set, the two canvas chairs
on the desk outside the master bedroom.
In fact, the form says it comes furnished
with everything but hope.
Would you like to make an offer?
©1993
poem by Lynn Cohen
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There is no longer a way out of our present situation except by forging a road toward our objective, violently and by force, over a sea of blood and under a horizon blazing with fire.
quote by Gamal Abdel Nasser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body & Soul
Man placed God’s Christ within the tomb –Mk.15: 42-47
Who’d died in awesome pain –Mk.15: 21-41
His grave a simile to the womb –Mt.12: 39-40
Gave birth to Christ again –Ro.6: 4
He left behind the clothes He wore –Jn.20: 6-7
To rise as Lord and King –Mt.19: 28
Enrobed in Glory’s Light once more –Rev.1: 13-18
His praises now we sing
The complete Christ had left the grave
No bones were found within
Revealing, bodies too He’ll save
That leaves behind their sin
Yet who’ll believe Salvation’s plan?
From death to birth anew!
Fulfilled in Christ, who proved to man
By dining with the few
Earth’s food, the spirit has no need
This truth God’s Lamb has shown
Dining on fish, God’s risen Seed –Lk.24: 42-43
Nourished His flesh and bone
Once Enoch, walked with God the earth
One day he was no more –Gen.5: 24
Quite whole to him who gave him birth
He entered Heaven’s door
With whirlwind sent from God on high –2Ki.2: 11
Came chariot, fire and steed
Bore whole Elijah in the sky
Alive, as God decreed
So offer God your body true –Ro.12: 1-5
Through Jesus, free of shame –1Co.6: 11
Quite reasonable in Christ to do
When baptised in His name…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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A Timbered Choir
Even while I dreamed I prayed that what I saw was only fear and no foretelling,
for I saw the last known landscape destroyed for the sake
of the objective, the soil bludgeoned, the rock blasted.
Those who had wanted to go home would never get there now.
I visited the offices where for the sake of the objective the planners planned
at blank desks set in rows. I visited the loud factories
where the machines were made that would drive ever forward
toward the objective. I saw the forest reduced to stumps and gullies; I saw
the poisoned river, the mountain cast into the valley;
I came to the city that nobody recognized because it looked like every other city.
I saw the passages worn by the unnumbered
footfalls of those whose eyes were fixed upon the objective.
Their passing had obliterated the graves and the monuments
of those who had died in pursuit of the objective
and who had long ago forever been forgotten, according
to the inevitable rule that those who have forgotten forget
that they have forgotten. Men, women, and children now pursued the objective
as if nobody ever had pursued it before.
The races and the sexes now intermingled perfectly in pursuit of the objective.
the once-enslaved, the once-oppressed were now free
to sell themselves to the highest bidder
and to enter the best paying prisons
in pursuit of the objective, which was the destruction of all enemies,
which was the destruction of all obstacles, which was the destruction of all objects,
which was to clear the way to victory, which was to clear the way to promotion, to salvation, to progress,
to the completed sale, to the signature
on the contract, which was to clear the way
to self-realization, to self-creation, from which nobody who ever wanted to go home
would ever get there now, for every remembered place
had been displaced; the signposts had been bent to the ground and covered over.
Every place had been displaced, every love
unloved, every vow unsworn, every word unmeant
to make way for the passage of the crowd
of the individuated, the autonomous, the self-actuated, the homeless
with their many eyes opened toward the objective
which they did not yet perceive in the far distance,
having never known where they were going,
having never known where they came from.
poem by Wendell Berry
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thank you Russell Edson... great poem
The house grows sick in its dining room and begins to vomit.
Father cries, the dining room is vomiting.
No wonder, the way you eat, it's enough to make anybody sick,
says his wife.
What shall we do? What shall we do? he cries.
Call the Vomit Doctor of course.
Yes, but all he does is vomit, sighs father.
If you were a vomit doctor you'd vomit too.
But isn't there enough vomit? sighs father.
There is never enough vomit.
Do I make everybody that sick, sighs father.
No no, everybody is born sick.
Born sick? cries father.
Of course, haven't you noticed how everybody eventually
dies? she says.
Is the dining room dying...?
... The way you eat, it's enough to make anyone sick,
she screams.
So I do make everybody that sick...
Excuse me, I think I'm going to be sick, she says.
Oh where is the Vomit Doctor? At least when he vomits one
knows one has it from high authority, screamed father.
Objective knowledge, the idea of unity included, belongs to objective consciousness. The forms which express this knowledge when perceived by subjective consciousness are inevitably distorted and, instead of truth, they create more and more delusions. With objective consciousness it is possible to see and feel the unity of everything. But for subjective consciousness the world is split up into millions of separate and unconnected phenomena. Attempts to connect these phenomena into some sort of system in a scientific or philosophical way lead to nothing because man cannot reconstruct the idea of the whole starting from separate facts and they cannot divine the principles of the division of the whole without knowing the laws upon which this division is based.
quote by G.I. Gurdjieff
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Conquest at the Hospice
For saying yes to be admitted
into the hospice, she has actually
accepted the seriousness of her
health case, that she is now
at the mouth of death.
She sends sms to dear friends
not telling that she is right at
the hospice but only wishing them
all the best in life that they
may keep their trust in God
to the very end of their days.
She knows how her daughters
have been saddened by her case
The medical treatment at the hospital,
taken so diligently each passing day,
has not really relieved her from
the agony in her mortal body.
And yet, during her last days,
as long as her lungs tolerate to breathe,
she uses the time to talk to friends,
sends them sms and wishes them all the best.
This hospice is her fortress of hope,
of courage to look at death face to face.
And we, who mourn over her last days,
realize how at this hospice, she has
vanquished the ugliness of death.
______________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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I was once ask if a big business man ever reached his objective. I replied that if a man ever reached his objective he was not a big business man.
quote by Charles M. Schwab
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is simply not true that war is solely a means to an end, nor do people necessarily fight in order to obtain this objective or that. In fact, the opposite is true: people very often take up one objective or another precisely in order that they may fight.
quote by Martin Van Creveld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Purple Rose Of Cairo
The purple rose of Cairo is in my vase
Blooming away
I am enjoying this rose
The purple rose of Cairo
I know it won’t last long
But that is the perfect gift you gave me
It brightens up my dining room table
Thanks once again for giving me the
Purple rose of Cairo
A rose is so beautiful
It is one of God’s creations
Nobody can make a rose bloom so beautiful than God can
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Quaaludes Again
She fumbles and stumbles
And falls down the stairs,
Makes love to the leg of the dining room chair.
She's ready for animals, women or men.
She's doing Quaaludes again.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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An Easy Dollar Nepotism Has Produced and Made
In the beginning,
Like all games played...
The motive is to undermine,
By an objective no one suspects.
The motive may be publicly announced,
To gain interest, funding and attention.
The objective is to discreetly deceive.
And if this is done with a few collectively...
An intention has succeeded and gains respect.
One can call an organization anything they wish.
With fanfare, music and drumming to assist.
Call it a collection of artists.
Since no one is left to become suspicious of this.
But an over-rated social agency...
To take advantage of one's ignorance,
Seems to have been for 'them'...
An easy dollar nepotism has produced and made.
'Those people know nothing about assembling talent.'
~That has never been their motive or objective.
They needed to find an easy way to feed themselves.
And declaring themselves knowledgeable of an industry,
Was all the proof they needed to bamboozle.
What have they done in the past fourty years?
Besides remodel kitchens and buy new cars.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Am I
I lost my name, I lost my faith.
I'm missing myself from the world I get.
Sometimes I found me in the burning fire,
And sometimes in the depth of the ocean.
The human being surrounds me are mostly unknown,
But the creatures for me are well known.
It's the dream or truth I dont knows,
But it's black and white were I goes.
The life is playing a game with me;
Were I have no objective complete to be.
It's a race were I am at last,
To make myself ready to go at the first.
You are thinking, I am telling you lie;
But truely-I dont know who am I..
poem by Kumarjeet Basu
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The Concrete and the Abstract
The concrete is visible,
the abstract is invisible.
The concrete is the outside,
the abstract is the inside.
The concrete is objective,
the abstract is subjective.
People go on searching for
God in the concrete.
'We would like to see God'
-they say.
But only the concrete can be seen;
the abstract has to be felt.
The concrete can be seen-
with the eyes open,
the abstract has to be seen-
with eyes closed.
God is inside you, as you.
You cannot stand outside God
and see Him;
you can see Him
only from the inside-
by being Him.
If you see a flower,
you can look at it scientifically.
You look at the chemistry of it,
You dissect it and
you come to know
about the components of it.
But something is missed
in that very analysis.
The beauty is missed,
because beauty is not a component.
If you ask the scientist -
'Where is the beauty that was in the flower? ’ he will say-
'That was not there,
it was just an illusion.'
'I have dissected it-
all and all,
and these are the things
that I have found.
These chemicals were there,
this matter was there,
these atoms, these molecules....
but there was no beauty.'
But when the scientist
gives the flower to his wife,
he knows deep within his heart
he is not giving her
something chemical,
He is giving to her
the beauty of the flower.
A poet said -
'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder',
But I say it lies in the heart of the lover.
That beauty is not be seen,
it has to be felt,
not from the outside,
but from the inside
by being the flower itself.
poem by Nazmul Haque
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Sauces In The Mouth
Satisfy us, the sauce is laid on the plate,
To sound like a train we munch on the crockery.
All of us are tame, men sweat due to food and water,
This ranch of dining musically swings with munching.
My food created the salmon in my mouth
To move in lovely rhythm with my tongue.
Its territory is tested, like all good men,
But the inner taste is subjected to the pleasures.
At the end of all this is bitter and sweet food
Being kept in batches for the stomach to design.
I have been satisfied by the ranch of food and dining,
The sauce is hot and sticky in the very district.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Early Morning Poetry
a gray cat so gentle
sleeping beside my easy chair
soft wind enters the window
from the far mountain
the white silky curtains
by the window
sway to the direction of the wind
a red rose blooms on the side
of the limestone wall
horse grazing on the grassy plain
a white dog runs toward a wooden gate
a car stops on the yard near the veranda of this old house
a brother from far announces his arrival
hot coffee and pancakes on the table
fumes of white rice and smoke from the grilled fish
faint classical Mozart music plays on the cassette
light from the sun penetrating the screen of the dining window
a black and white family picture on top of the family piano
grandpa on his military uniform as mother carries father on her arms
memories flood the room and words keep creeping like worms
i want to say that there are no termites on this house but that would be a lie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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