I'm not that fashion-conscious. A lot of times, when women are appearing to be so perfect, it's because they're a mess underneath.
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The One Conscious
A conscious mind,
Showing up late and half dressed...
Will go much further.
Than the unconscious one,
Fully dressed...
In a tuxedo,
Not appearing to be there at all.
Even though physically present!
Both are scrutinized...
But the one conscious,
Is far more entertaining!
And eventually forgiven.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I like to think of myself as being fashion-conscious without being a slave to fashion.
quote by Annni-Frid Lyngstad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorry I Am Not Perfect
I'm sorry for lying
I'm sorry for trying
I'm sorry for crying
I'm sorry for dying
I'm sorry Mom
I'm sorry Dad
I'm sorry for being bad.
I'm sorry not being a good lad.
I'm sorry for disobeying
I'm sorry for being dishonest
I'm sorry for being so churlish
Although I never said sorry
This is one way for being so naughty.
I may not be the perfect daughter.
I may not be the perfect sister.
I may not be even a perfect friend.
But I am not a perfect women.
My body isn't perfect.
My speech isn't perfect..
My work isn't perfect...
Why aren't I perfect?
poem by Monica Rose
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In My Fashion
In my fashion I have been a good man
I have loved and I have lost
Ever after I will be remembered
In my fashion, in my way
There have been times, I have seen the reaper
In the bad times, and in the good
I have bent down, I have touched the ground
Saying prayers and touching wood
In my fashion, I have been a father
I have loved and been loved in return
From the ashes, I have kept the homefires
Burning after all was said and done
Now take a look at me
Do I look like the kind of guy
The kinda fool who went to school
And had to stand on a stool,
Because he couldnt come t terms with a slide rule
Take a look around again
Is it any different now than it was then
In my fashion I have been a good man
I have loved and I have lost
And ever after I will be remembered
In my fashion, in my way
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is Not
Conscious of structure.
Conscious of order, law and discipline.
Conscious of those to whom is given respect.
Conscious of tradition and ideals...
And the effect this has on one's mindset.
Conscious of a faith that goes much deeper,
Than the faking of an acceptance of rituals.
Conscious of life,
And the limits of it lived.
Conscious are those,
Who are aware that this life...
Is much more than it is perceived,
It is!
Since it is not what we have been led to believe.
And a consciousness of those conscious of this,
Is what has been received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dirty Women
The neon lights are shining on me again
I walk the lonely streets in search of a friend
I need a lady to help me to get through the night
If I could find one then everything would be alright
The sleepy city is dreaming the nigh time away
Out on the street I watch tomorrow becoming today
I see a man,hes got take away women for sale
Yes for sale
Guess thats the answer
cos take away women dont fail...
Oh dirty women,they dont mess around
Oh dirty women,they dont mess around
Youve got me coming
Youve got me going around
Oh dirty women,
They dont mess around
Walking the streets I wonder will it ever happen
Gotta be good then everyting will be o.k.
If I could score tonight then I will end up happy
A woman for sale is gonna help me save my day...
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Many Times Have You Asked Yourself
Finally...
You reach home.
Believing you are sheltered.
And will get deserving rest!
Then suddenly the phone rings.
To leave you wondering,
If the caller is someone you should address.
And with unanswered questions,
You unleash from your mind...
What should be done next!
You want to know...
How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!
How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!
When you have issues you have not yet to address.
How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!
Relax?
You can't!
A tension is enhanced.
The phone keeps ringing to erase the chance.
And...
How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!
When you have issues you have not yet to address.
And that somebody wants to disturb your rest.
And with unanswered questions,
You unleash from your mind...
What should be done next!
You want to know...
How many times,
Have you...
Asked yourself,
How many times...
You've asked yourself,
How could you find...
Yourself in the middle of somebody else's mess!
When you have issues you have not yet to address.
And that somebody wants to disturb your rest.
How many times,
Have you asked yourself...
How many times,
You've asked yourself....
How many times have you done this and did nothing else?
To be there to please somebody else...
And not yourself!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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""Women's fashion"" is a euphemism for fashion created by men for women.
quote by Andrea Dworkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't look so closely at women's fashion, but from the 20th century on, people have had the freedom to express themselves and their individualities, and fashion is one of the most fundamental ways in which they do this, men and women are equally able to express themselves.
quote by Tadao Ando
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Times Like This
You're the song that's stuck in my head
I try to think of something else
It keeps coming back again
Says she wants to end it
I'll just keep pretending
And there you go
Turning up again
Its times like this I need a friend
I'll take a hit and hold u in
Cant live, cant breathe, I'm underneath
Its times like this I need
You here with me, with me
There's a stranger here in my bed
I try to think of something else
All I see is you instead
Says she wants to hang out
I'm just trying to break out
And there you go
Turning up again
Its times like this I need a friend
I'll take a hit and hold u in
Cant live, cant breathe, I'm underneath
Its times like this I need
You here with me, with me
And here I go
Turning up again
Its times like this I need a friend
I'll take a hint and hold u in
Cant live, cant breathe, I'm underneath
Its times like this I want you here
Its times like this I need you here with me, with me
song performed by by Lit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Conscious Of Its Acceptance
I have an idea!
Let's all pretend,
What is happening,
Isn't.
'Is that the best you can do?
We've been doing that for years.
That's how we got into this mess.'
Well...
Let's all pretend,
To be disconnected from it.
The mess.
'There is just one problem.'
What is it?
'How can we excuse our involvement,
Without acknowledging...
We were not conscious of its acceptance? '
I have another idea.
'What is it? '
We can always say,
We didn't exist when the 'mess' was implemented.
'I have an idea.'
Good!
Let's hear it.
'Why don't you keep your ideas to yourself.
And implement a nonthinking process.
I'm willing to bet,
'That' will be accepted.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fallen On Hard Times?
Fallen on hard times?
Harder than those times,
You have fallen on before?
And with more stinging to the knees?
Think of it as a rehearsal to perfect,
A happiness to look forward to.
Since eventually behind you,
Will be left this mess to forget.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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MUSTY WOMEN...by Talile Ali
I SURE DO LOVE ME SOME
MUSTY WOMEN
TIE ME UP AND
DUST ME WOMEN
DON'T WANT NO GRANDMA'S
THO THERE ARE THOSE WHO DO
JUST WANT TO MAKE SOME LOVIN
TO SOMEONE NOT TOO DAMN OLD TO WOO
I DIG MUSTY WOMEN
AS THEY WORK OR PLAY
I LIKE MY MUSTY WOMEN
EVERY NIGHT, EVERY DAY
DOWN AT THE BEACH
BAKING IN THE SUN
WANNA PICK THEM UP
AND HAVE SOME FUN
I HAVE A NEED TO BE RECOGNIZED
BY THE SOME OF THOSE LIPS
AND THE SHAPE OF THOSE THIGHS
COME AND DANCE WITH ME AND ABANDON THOSE TIES
HERE I AM
LET ME COME TO YOU HERE
TO YOU, MUSTY BABES
GIVE YOU SOME OR MY CHEER
AT THE OFFICE
IN THE HALL
KEEP ME LEAD YOU
AS YOU SCRAWL
SOMETHING STICKY
OH SO ITCHY
MUSTY WOMEN DO IT ALL
AS WE EMBRACE THEIR ALL
DANCE AND SWING AND MAKE A TUSSLE
WIGGLING AND JIGGLING AND DOING MORE THAN A COUPLE
HAVING TO STEAL A LITTLE HERE AND A LITTLE THERE
FUN TO BE NAKED AND DOING IT, I SWEAR
OH MY GOODNESS
I AM A MESS
MUSTY WOMEN
AND GARGANTUAN BREAST
I CONFESS
I'M A MESS OVER
BUSTY, CRUSTY, NEVER TO DUSTY
LUSTY, MUSTY WOMEN
poem by Talile Ali
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Sonnet: Each One is Strong However Weak
The Lion thinks ‘tis meant for tougher tasks;
And spares the Lioness and cubs hard works;
The Lioness is tough too though it masks;
Appearing gentle while it lurks.
Man keeps all tougher jobs in his purview,
And spares women and children from much risk;
Yet, when ‘tis time, women too change their hue,
And children too don’t always like lambs frisk.
The weaker creatures have their tougher side,
That is brought out in times of dangers, need;
One’s toughness is something, we wish to hide,
Don’t underestimate even a weed.
Each creature has innate strengths well-concealed;
In times of need, this gets sometimes revealed.
poem by John Celes
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A Woman´s World
It is a woman´s world
The new sex symbols are men they want to look like
muscular heroes seen on TV and on films.
They train several times a day to get a perfect body
other men have, thinking they must to attract women,
but all they attract are other men who fall into
the same trap what a beautiful body is the beginning
and a goal by itself. Why is it that men have been
reduced to think of their body must be perfect when
it by itself has little value? In a world where women
are equal; men subconsciously think they have in order
to attract women must look nice and attractive.
But women are not stupid they may adore a beautiful
Body, but they prefer, after having a fling with a body
builder, marry a man with prospects who can give
them security and economic stability. Women are not
romantic, they pretend to be, but prefer to marry
a man who can look after their children regardless if
the man are the real fathers or not, because a man
will accept a foundling in the name of love.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Beauty is holistic
Be clean; you are conscious of skin.
Do yoga; you are conscious of body.
Do prnayama; you are conscious of energy.
Do meditation; you are conscious of mind.
Being conscious of it is strengthening of it.
Then which woman can resist you?
12.08.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Peek In, Sneak About
Theres times where I want something more
Someone more like me
Theres times when this dress rehearsal
Seems incomplete
But, you see the colors in me like no one else
And behind your dark glasses youre...
Youre something else
Chorus:
Youre really lovely
Underneath it all
You want to love me
Underneath it all
Im really lucky
Underneath it all
Youre really lovely
You know some real bad tricks
And you need some discipline
But, lately youve been trying real hard
And giving me your best
And, you give me the most gorgeous sleep
That Ive ever had
And when its really bad
I guess its not that bad
(repeat chorus)
So many moons that we have seen
Stumbling back next to me
Ive seen right through and underneath
And you make me better
Ive seen right through and underneath
And you make me better
Better... better...
Lady saw:
You are my real prince charmin
Like the heat from the fire
You were always burnin
And each time youre around
My body keeps stalin
For your touch
Your kisses and your sweet romancin
Theres an underside to you
That so many adore
Aside from your temper
Everything else secure
Youre good for me, baby
Oh that, Im sure
Over and over again
I want more
Gwen:
Youve used up all your coupons
And all youve got left is me
And somehow Im full of forgiveness
I guess its meant to be
(repeat chorus)
Youre really lovely
Underneath it all
You want to love me
Underneath it all
Im really lovely
Underneath it all
And youre really lovely
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet -All Men Are Imperfect, Poets Too
Why blame the Poet for the mess he writes;
All flowers bloom from stage of bud only;
Why blame the priest for poor funeral rites?
That is the way we do pray, sing, may be;
No one is perfect in his work at first;
Hard-work and time and luck, his mettle tells;
None have always the same hunger and thirst;
Nothing on earth quite uniformly sells.
By training much, one can become perfect;
Not all are geniuses, born or made;
The most perfect at times has some defect;
We don't know if our glory shall fade.
But Poets write just for the sake of it;
And very soon, they write out of habit.
poem by John Celes
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Underneath The Clouds
Broken adventures moving against the
Stream:
This is my family,
And these are the few words I know-
And none of it belongs here:
These yards and houses do not belong,
Nor the airplanes leaping over them,
Nor the girls here
Who are shortly to be women: women,
Long-legged,
Bronzed women of a special cast-
They who will know their families like fishing
Leaping
Fast- fast:
Women of the year: women of a single snowflake
Evaporating underneath a single sun:
My words are just for her,
Women- my words are meant to be the flower
That signifies the metamorphosis of
Everything,
And casts its perfumes into the aqueducts of
The beating heart of her truancies,
While she goes out all night long-
This is the staple of my belonging handed out readily
Upon the highway-
A broadside for the busy avenues all headed to
See her being,
As she goes back to school again, as the airplanes
Fall asleep underneath the clouds.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Lament
Today there was a tragedy
Underneath the bridge
A man lamented
Cold and blue
Into la ment
The sky coloured perfect
As the man slipped away
Waving with a last vanilla smile
Somewhere at a table
Two drowned fools
Smoking
Drinking water as they talked
Of how they loved our lady
And oh the smell as candles die
One more ice cream river body
Flowed underneath the bridge
Underneath the bridge
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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