I think I've finally proven something to people who were cynical about me. Because they were cruel.
quote by Nancy Sinatra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cynical Days
Another years gone by,
The worlds grown older,
Sometimes I heave a sigh,
People grow colder.
Every day I do my best to show,
I can make it in this world I know,
But all the bad thoughts that people bring,
My faith in human natures
Getting pretty thin.
Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through, these cynical days.
Another see through scheme,
People are shallow.
The dark nights closing in,
My dark thoughts follow.
I try and make my world a better place,
(my efforts seem in vain),
But Im competing in a human race,
(falling deeper down the drain),
That value things that just dont count,
Makes me wonder what its all about.
Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Cynical days.
Cynical days.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today, I want to be cynical!
Today, I want to be cynical
I won’t listen those long lyrical
I don’t care people’s opinion
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll be the sour vinegar
On the tip of your tongue
I’ll quench my cold blood
I’ll shut my crying heart
Today, I want to be cynical
I deny false sympathy
I believe world’s hypocrisy
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll burn your comical face
With acid glance’s attack
I’ll breed my poisonous words
I’ll carve my sadistic smile
Today, I want to be cynical
I shame self pity
I laugh at naivety
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll be the sound of thunder
Shake often your bright day
I’ll know your hidden mistake
I’ll close your chance to break
Today, I want to be cynical!
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Cynical Baby Downtown
'Soothing voices are announcing,
cynical baby downtown,
another suppression of hope,
a day of compulsory dancing,
cynical baby downtown,
and subliminal sex, guns and dope.
The mistress of rude assumptions,
cynical baby downtown,
is trying to give us a clue,
displaying the bodily functions,
cynical baby downtown,
of what I might mean to you.
Old men are showing photographs,
cynical baby downtown,
of some of the targets we hit;
I guess the animal that laughs,
cynical baby downtown,
has had a testosterone fit.
And the party went ballistic,
cynical baby downtown,
but no one was to blame;
it was your explosive lipstick,
cynical baby downtown,
that had just spoken my name.'
poem by Nancy Ames
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Diamond
OK, be cynical – say,
why, it’s only a piece of dead wood
that found itself trapped when
the earth’s crust heaved a sigh…
be cynical - say,
it didn’t ask for you to
dig it up - buried there
recovering from the shock…
be cynical - say,
anyway, it looked like a pebble then
until a man so cleverly polished it..
be cynical – say,
it’s nothing of itself – all it does
is to reflect the light that’s always all around..
be cynical – say,
we’d only value it as a piece of glass,
if smart guys didn’t fix it for them to seem rare,
and silly girls say, look, it proves he loves me…
now just look at this diamond..
what use is your mind
when your eye and your heart
get on so well without it?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In a cruel and evil world, being cynical can allow you to get some entertainment out of it.
quote by Daniel Waters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cruel Summer
Dans la chaleur de la nuit qui s'enroule tout autour de moi
Je marche seule sans savoir pourquoi tu n'es plus l
Ca tourne dans ma tte
Et tout s'arrte
Ta voix me parle tout bas
Je ne sais plus o j'en suis, je ne vois plus que toi
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
The city is crowed
My friends are away
And I'm on my own
It's too handle
So I've got to get up and go
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
It's a crue , cruel summer, c'est fini
song performed by by Ace Of Base
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Cruel the World Can Be
How cruel the world can be at times,
too cruel to think upon.
For the pain and suffering that visits us
is a lingering marathon.
We pray that when it is our time
to welcome something new
that the parting from the life we know
will be a quick adieu.
Somehow we gather strength to face
what comes to us tomorrow.
And on the day before that
we must not dwell on sorrow.
For surely all the pain we've known
will be left to this cruel world.
And the quiet peaceful sleep we need
will finally be unfurled.
How cruel the world can be at times,
too cruel to think upon.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I'm Dreaming Of A Cynical Christmas
I'm dreaming of a cynical christmas,
Just like the ones we used to know,
Where us sarcastic blighters,
And RAF fighters,
Could deliver witty statements on the go.
I'm dreaming of a cynical christmas,
Just like the ones we used to know,
Where we take the mickey,
When the situations stickey,
And end up thrown out in the snow.
I'm dreaming of a cynical christmas,
Just like the ones we used to know,
We can laugh at him 'til he dies,
Chokes to death of one of our mincepies,
And our happiness never be low!
poem by Nick Hilton
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Unlimited Treasure Trove
If I had been obvious...
You'd be deplete of imagination.
At the lost of benefit,
And at your expense!
However...
In your uncleverness,
It is you...
Not me,
That provides me a motivation!
No matter how ridiculous you expound upon it.
Offering an unlimited treasure trove,
Of refuted nonsense...
Proven!
And I have turned that into a career.
I would thank you!
But you might interpret my comments,
As being cynical.
When I am actually wanting to be sarcastic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The effect matters
An action is proven right
Only after its effects.
A path is proven good
Only after the travel.
An egg is proven good
Only after its hatch.
Every step is a bet.
25.07.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Freedom For Palestine! ...
My country, my people, my land
Oh do I wish to be with my people hand in hand
With all wars abolished and all pain gone
With death and pain vanished that has been accepted for very long
Oh do I hope for my country’s independence and self-rule
Oh do I wish to destroy my enemies that have been and are still cruel
With all this evil destroyed and finally stopped
Then no more dreadful missiles could be dropped
Where finally a child can sleep silently in his bed
Not worrying about the next day if he’ll be dead
Where children are happy and finally sense the feeling of fun
Where a father could finally live in peace with his son
Yes, it’s my country Palestine
A country that will always stay mine
Oh do I wish the world could just for once say no and mean it
Oh do I wish the people in this universe could just admit
That what’s going on in Palestine is totally wrong
Then the war that’s still happening would’ve not stayed for so long
I don’t see the reason on why an innocent child deserves to die
I don’t see why a mother should look at her dead children and cry
We are all people...Our differences doesn’t matter anymore
Freedom and peace is what we all should be looking for
May the Palestinian pain and misery just fade away
That’s all I pray for every single day.
poem by Marria Attar
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Senselessly Cruel
When I was a poor young boy at school
Girls like you always played me for a fool
But now, a time has come to lay to waste
The theory people have of getting an acquired taste
You treated me -
Oh, so, so senselessly cruel
Oh baby, you were so senselessly cruel
From the beginnings I suspected the worst
And you didnt disappoint me
It was just that you were the first
But now, I wouldnt let you touch me
If you were within a foot
And girl, Im never ever gonna get hurt
cause you treated me -
Oh, so senselessly cruel
Oh now, so senselessly cruel
(oh, so senselessly cruel)
(oh, so senselessly cruel)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There As Protection
What do you know about liars?
'It seems they are inconvenienced,
By the truth! '
And,
How about those who are honest and truthful?
'Well,
It appears not many are defended or befriended.
And popular they are not.'
Don't you think you are being a bit cynical?
'You get to be my age...
You call it as you see.
And can afford to leave these things,
To manifest on its own.'
Whose side are you on?
Where do you stand?
'You see the Sun?
That's the side I am on.
And in a few moments,
You are going to witness...
Me getting to my feet from a sitting position.
And moving as far away from you as possible.
Even with peace of mind,
You have proven...
Nothing one has is kept and guaranteed,
To be there as protection 'all' the time! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Condition Critical
Oh the tension's mounting
The pressure starts to show
All the men in haunting
Please don't let me go
(Don't go)
Try to free my body
(Don't go)
Try to strap me down
(Don't go)
These'll never break me
(Don't go)
Free wheel to look at me
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
The bells they are ringing
Or is it in my head
My nerves numb understanding
I'm falling out of bed
(Don't go)
So call it paranoia
(Don't go)
I don't see it that way
(Let's go)
You say I adore ya
(Hell no)
We're gonna rock they way
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
Ooh ooh
Whips and chains
Don't feel no pain
What's so wrong
I think I'm going out of my head
Over heels
I can't feel
No pain, only pleasure
Get me out
Take me home
Can't you see my condition
Woo-woo-woo
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical (Cynical)
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition-aca
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh What A Relief Appears
Ironically enough,
The ones who had criticized...
The others tiredlessly exhausting themselves,
From Sunrise until night.
For all to acknowledge and recognize,
Something done has been finally done right...
Have yet to be the ones to produce.
But instead have proven,
Their enthusiasm to critique is what they best do.
Leaving those who have had judgements upon them passed,
To live happily and distanced...
From people like this who insist they have a better prescription,
With a dropping of their actions to start...
A happiness that is!
And oh...
What a relief appears,
Without a plopping to flop to fizz.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The documents have not been conclusively proven false. Neither have they been proven authentic.
quote by Bill Burkett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm sure some cynical people would point to that as the main reason for doing it for a lot of people.
For Lisbeth...
she surrenders finally
to the hands of marriage
forgetting finally her
disappointing struggles with
books and
peers and scales and
a litany of human cases
and supreme court decisions on the matter
'what is justice all about? ' her first question
who dares an answer that satiates her thirst for it?
no one.
the legal room finally ejects her
she is a plate of vomit
and she ultimately confesses
she misses
those nooks where people are
too serious
to be really true to themselves
for they must appear
like dead pillars
unswayed
to discomfort and
unconvinced about the power
of emotions
those flitting feelings are not
welcome here
sorry
so sorry to tell her that
she who cries
and grieves
and says this is a cruel world
where the fittest
too shall suffer
this is where people become stuffed animals
honored somehow for their
sacrifices
their frozen sweat and tears
eyes have no time for blinking
people's minds are sculpted
to objectivity
like stone or marble slabs
into pieces
of davids
she goes back to the door of the family
enters it and locks the door behind her
it is raining that time
and people have to shout to be heard
hugs her two kids
her mirror to her new world
a confirmation of her untapped genius
what a flattery!
I'll make a lie and tell her
you finally find bliss!
deep within me i am not at all impressed
this is the best world i got
and she is never a part of it
i will let her think
about something that makes her happy
i will not let her ask
if i am telling the truth
i don't have the time
neither does she.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Question
1916
Brethren, how shall it fare with me
When the war is laid aside,
If it be proven that I am he
For whom a world has died?
If it be proven that all my good,
And the greater good I will make,
Were purchased me by a multitude
Who suffered for my sake?
That I was delivered by mere mankind
Vowed to one sacrifice,
And not, as I hold them, battle-blind,
But dying with open eyes?
That they did not ask me to draw the sword
When they stood to endure their lot --
That they only looked to me for a word,
And I answered I knew them not?
If it be found, when the battle clears,
Their death has set me free,
Then how shall I live with myself through the years
Which they have bought for me?
Brethren, how must it fare with me,
Or how am I justified,
If it be proven that I am he
For whom mankind has died --
If it be proven that I am he
Who, being questioned, denied?
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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People Always Talking
People always talking, voices never quiet,
Talking over beauty, messing with delight,
Gossiping their lives away, caught up in the lies-
People talking years and years, until they finally die.
People always fighting, people never still,
People never happy; going at it with a will.
Never satisfaction, or noting what they feel,
Taking what is not theirs, compunctionless to steal.
People in the graveyards, finally at rest,
Never realizing, that it was for the best;
People with no destiny, done with all their tests-
People with their last breath, that never could confess.
poem by Patti Masterman
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