Quotes about formulated, page 3
Lotto Life Spin
Addict rue bought
in check out line motion
five dollars worth
of elixir dreamtime potion.
Absorbent sacred numbered ball spinning...
purchased from holy grail line magic machine;
state blueprint sly sucker pantomime taxation...
proliferating pie in sky get rich quick dreams.
Attendant shop priestesses
minimal menial minions pillage;
operating lotto outlet shrines
serve worshipers paying hopeless homage.
Apollo’s oracle precisely programmed
speaks chosen erratic prophesy package;
in electronic statistical lines formulated
randomly selected spun ball bondage.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A modern theory of knowledge which takes account of the relational as distinct from the merely relative character of all historical knowledge must start with the assumption that there are spheres of thought in which it is impossible to conceive of absolute truth existing independently of the values and position of the subject and unrelated to the social context. Even a god could not formulate a proposition on historical subjects like 2 x 2 = 4, for what is intelligible in history can be formulated only with reference to problems and conceptual constructions which themselves arise in the flux of historical experience.
quote by Karl Mannheim
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Reason For Speech
Homo-sapiens aspiring humans
have always sought to imbue
to worship honour appease
conceived our God conceptions
through embellished words.
Since first ritually
we group grunted
guttural forth
our first few animated
formulated syllables.
Theme forced voiced dramatically
our first vocal thematic
interchanges with God
culminating in constructing
Tower of theological Babel.
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Marketed As Good Business
Denials cost a fortune.
A policy grasped...
Although uninsured.
And yet...
If truth was the catalyst for happiness,
Few would be popping pills...
To numb the realities of their existence.
We depend on conflict,
To endorse adopted grief.
If we were pleased with ourselves...
There would be no need to medicate.
And an entire industry based on health solutions,
Formulated on lies and alibis...
Hosted by delusions and experiments,
Would have to develop another way
To patiently doctor itself...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rulers of The Heavens
Definite and distinct is the trail,
Pioneered by a preservative persistence...
Often followed to replicate,
In hushed formulated seductions.
Conveniently renamed and claimed,
As fresh productions.
To triumph a hollow gain of fame...
Within diminished mindsets obtained.
And just specks are we,
In a massive Universe existing.
Left to be defined by scientists renown...
To announce their latest discoveries found.
Sit we do in a stew swirling majestically.
Undoubtedly a phenomenon...
Beyond depictions of eternity,
Limited by time the human mind can see.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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~ Pero Yo Te Saludo Madre ~
Since there can be no cozy place
God devised womb in Mothers.
Since no first immunization can be synthesized
God created colostrums in Mothers.
Since no nutrient can be ever chemicalized
God sprung nectarine spring in Mother.
Since no freshener can be so allayer
God formulated corpusfreshener in Mothers.
Since no smile can be so captivating
God designed smiles in Mothers.
Since no toy gizmo ever give comfy
God crafted caresses in Mothers.
Since there is no better soother
God voxed berceuse in Mother.
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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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A Killing, Its Not Love
Talk less and stand quiet
Your lamentation has lost its viability
And when you tried much to touch
I was with your touch
But now its a legend
Nowhere to keep your own soul
Nowhere to fly your extended dream
Now an alone nestler just listen the sound of dripping
A bitter hangover just splashing our feathers
The broken mast some formulated mutants
Trying to catch the serenity....ha......
The bogus doctrine-supplier simply... your brain
Every moment you suck the shackles of eternity
Go beyond all origins of morality and find
A dream-breaker shouts loud to strangle your death
To life again with hostile manifesto which hangs
from the high of negative positivity.....
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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The Dancing Maidens for M'lady Tara
Tall standing stones still mark the spot.
Where Sunday dancers turned to stone.
You may believe or you may not
But sometimes standing there alone.
I try to solve the mystery.
All legends hold a grain of truth.
lost in the mists of history.
It may be just a tale to soothe.
The anger of those pious fools
who thought enjoyment was a sin
and formulated their strict rules.
That may have been the origin
But I think that the stones date back
since before Christianity.
Before the churchmen could attack
the dreadful sin of gaiety…
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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0007 I thought of her
and suddenly this morning, I thought of her;
not in the Christmas way -
thinking of you at this time,
we must meet, sometime in the New Year…
but with the sense of loss
and the sense of gratitude
so strongly present together
that there’s no point
in balancing the two; they live in
two different worlds;
remembering how I would phone you
who had time for everybody
and never looked at the clock or watch
as we talked about ourself until time itself were weary..
(then came the pointed, quiet alignment...)
knowing what a treat it was going to be
but I’d have to be on my mettle..
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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Joy & Pain We Caused
Chapter nine: Cataclysm - reading with
bated breath, too many facts to take in,
storyline developing, who can ever prove
one hypothesis more true than another -
only matters that conjecture is presented
coherently
The single criterion is the quality of ideals
formulated by a civilisation; though attempts
to carry out dreams demeaned by avaricious
minds; wonderful that people of integrity still
chase ideals, wondering how these dreams
came into being
I think relativity - time & space interwoven,
divine supernatural intervention as natural
law in manifestation - a conscious energy,
aware of all simultaneously, scattered clues
picked up by receptive minds - I love all
forms of ideals
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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