Honest criticism is hard to take, particularly from a relative, a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger.
quote by Franklin P. Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVIII: Absolutely Relative
Expensive is absolute, cheap is relative
Far is absolute, near is relative
Ugly is absolute, beauty is relative
Weird is absolute, crazy is relative
Stubborn is absolute, brave is relative
Stupid is absolute, smart is relative
Weak is absolute, strong is relative
Old is absolute, mature is relative
Lose is absolute, win is relative
Rich is absolute, poor is relative
Sad is absolute, happy is relative
Misfortune is absolute, lucky is relative
Safe is absolute, fear is relative
Love is absolute, hate is relative
Important is absolute, forgotten is relative
Easy is absolute, difficult is relative
Wrong is absolute, right is relative
Bad is absolute, good is relative
Lie is absolute, truth is relative
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be able to cite three good qualities of every relative or acquaintance that you dislike.
quote by Marilyn vos Savant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Times For An Honest Man
One man does his work
Hes not satisfied not at all
Feels like that hes being used
His self respect starts to fall
His frustration
Runnin very very high he takes it out
On the ones he loves, because its safe
And who they gonna tell
And he hates that cold-bloodedness
That runs inside
Chorus:
Oh yes
Its hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Sister,
Shes got a lot of pride
You can see it when she walks into the room
But shes young
And shes unaware
Of what a brutal world can do to you
So she loves a man
He lies like a dog
Tears her little world all apart
So the walls go up
For the rest of her days
And there aint no man can touch this
Girls heart
Chorus:
Oh yes.
Its hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
So we walk
From the front porch to the back yard
Just to laugh and say hello and
Say goodbye
But some days are hard, like a
Soldiers steel-toed boots
And the rent we pay to stay here
Gets high
Chorus:
Oh yes.
Its hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If government, or those in positions of power and authority, can silence criticism by the argument that such criticism might be misunderstood somewhere, there is an end to all criticism, and perhaps an end to our kind of political system. For men in authority will always think that criticism of their policies is dangerous. They will always equate their policies with patriotism, and find criticism subversive.
quote by Henry Steele Commager
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I've had trouble with criticism, I guess. It's hard to know what role criticism plays in either encouraging poets or in getting other people to read them.
quote by Kenneth Koch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Readily Available to Bask In Whims
Now that the rush to acquire reality is 'on'...
There are many finding an unwelcomed kindred with it.
Like a long lost friend.
Or a relative once considered close...
But a day some time ago,
Too much truth was spoken!
And a closeness felt with others lost in a split!
And that friend and/or relative...
Said something shared,
And honest words were not spared.
Resulting in a stubbornness with feelings hurt,
Bared!
Sensitivities have their own consciousness.
These emotional scenes are dropping like frost on trees,
In most places these days.
And on more than a few faces.
People once caught up with themselves...
Have been struck by the effects of diminished delusions.
With the stunning sound of wake up calls.
Today in the now like 'now' has never been...
Truth has taken centerstage.
And many know 'not' was is next for them!
No one does.
But the chances for those,
Who have been dealing with life...
Away from alcoholic and designer drug devices.
Observing the moments free of escapades.
Will probably continue,
To live life less traumatized by denial.
A choice once accessed,
And readily available to bask in whims.
For the many now broken hearted without them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A stranger nearby is better than a far-away relative.
Stranger In The Wind...
Stranger in the wind...
Beckons at my door.
Stanger in the wind...
Wanting even more.
Stranger in the wind...
Hard to really ignore.
Stranger in the wind..
Making my heart ache, as sore.
Stranger in the wind...
Rapping at my door.
Stanger in the wind...
Who knows i am so poor.
Stranger in the wind...
My time here-has me bore...
Many aches and pains of a thirsting heart...
Can only be quenched by ye, your remembered part.
Stranger in the wind...
My heart, you'll win.
Stranger in the wind...
Yon soul so deep.
Stranger in the wind...
My heart you'll keep.
Stranger in the wind...
my soul you'll reap.
Stranger in the wind...
You make me weep.
poem by Michael Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stranger's Friend
The strangest things and the maddest things, that a man can do or say,
To the chaps and fellers and coves Out Back are matters of every day;
Maybe on account of the lives they lead, or the life that their hearts discard—
But never a fool can be too mad or a ‘hard case’ be too hard.
I met him in Bourke in the Union days—with which we have nought to do
(Their creed was narrow, their methods crude, but they stuck to ‘the cause’ like glue).
He came into town from the Lost Soul Run for his grim half-yearly ‘bend,’
And because of a curious hobby he had, he was known as ‘The Stranger’s Friend.’
It is true to the region of adjectives when I say that the spree was ‘grim,’
For to go on the spree was a sacred rite, or a heathen rite, to him,
To shout for the travellers passing through to the land where the lost soul bakes—
Till they all seemed devils of different breeds, and his pockets were filled with snakes.
In the joyful mood, in the solemn mood—in his cynical stages too—
In the maudlin stage, in the fighting stage, in the stage when all was blue—
From the joyful hour when his spree commenced, right through to the awful end,
He never lost grip of his ‘fixed idee’ that he was the Stranger’s Friend.
‘The feller as knows, he can battle around for his bloomin’ self,’ he’d say—
‘I don’t give a curse for the “blanks” I know the hard-up bloke this way;
‘Send the stranger round, and I’ll see him through,’ and, e’en as the bushman spoke,
The chaps and fellers would tip the wink to a casual, ‘hard-up bloke.’
And it wasn’t only a bushman’s ‘bluff’ to the fame of the Friend they scored,
For he’d shout the stranger a suit of clothes, and he’d pay for the stranger’s board—
The worst of it was that he’d skite all night on the edge of the stranger’s bunk,
And never got helplessly drunk himself till he’d got the stranger drunk.
And the chaps and the fellers would speculate—by way of a ghastly joke—
As to who’d be caught by the ‘jim-jams’ first—the Friend or the hard-up bloke?
And the ‘Joker’ would say that there wasn’t a doubt as to who’d be damned in the end,
When the Devil got hold of a hard-up bloke in the shape of the Stranger’s Friend.
It mattered not to the Stranger’s Friend what the rest might say or think,
He always held that the hard-up state was due to the curse of drink,
To the evils of cards, and of company: ‘But a young cove’s built that way,
‘And I was a bloomin’ fool meself when I started out,’ he’d say.
At the end of the spree, in clean white ‘moles,’ clean-shaven, and cool as ice,
He’d give the stranger a ‘bob’ or two, and some straight Out Back advice;
Then he’d tramp away for the Lost Soul Run, where the hot dust rose like smoke,
Having done his duty to all mankind, for he’d ‘stuck to a hard-up bloke.’
They’ll say ’tis a ‘song of a sot,’ perhaps, but the Song of a Sot is true.
I have ‘battled’ myself, and you know, you chaps, what a man in the bush goes through:
Let us hope when the last of his sprees is past, and his cheques and his strength are done,
That, amongst the sober and thrifty mates, the Stranger’s Friend has one.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Still Can Never Believe
I cannot believe,
I cannot believe,
That my relative's and kith's do me that,
Sincerely in all my awakening,
This temple was under attack,
Why lie?
Ever since I grew on earthly dwelling,
Realised all the hard lessons,
I cannot believe,
That my relative's could do me that,
I can never lie,
That they must be lyeing when they attacked me,
This is the glory never fading,
Let the law come by justice,
When I believe that my lover's could do me wrong,
Deliverance is awaiting me,
When I'm alone in the streets,
This is my definition in society,
That we got to kill these false spirits.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Cannot Believe
I cannot believe,
I cannot believe,
That my relative's and kith's do me that,
Sincerely in all my awakening,
This temple was under attack,
Why lie?
Ever since I grew on earthly dwelling,
Realised all the hard lessons,
I cannot believe,
That my relative's could do me that,
I can never lie,
That they must be lyeing when they attacked me,
This is the glory never fading,
Let the law come by justice,
When I believe that my lover's could do me wrong,
Deliverance is awaiting me,
When I'm alone in the streets,
This is my definition in society,
That we got to kill these false spirits.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Truth or Lie
The Truth
a word of respect
a word of courage at times
hard to define, hard to detect
Showing love
compassion and care
to be honest and humble
to be just and fair
To be right
to be honest above all
to tell the Truth at last
to tell the Truth over all
...But to lie
to show deceit
to be dishonest
or to tel incomplete
To hurt or harm
with words untrue
to say wrong things
that you will rue
To be honest
to tell the Truth always
no shame, no deceit
to be honest always
poem by Kellsey Hartmann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Self Portrait
My friend, leave before you fall into my trap
My friend, I’m not what I pretend to be
My friend, I’ll only scar you
My friend, you chose the wrong fiend to befriend
My friend, I backstab all who trust me
My friend, I lie to all who speak so fondly of my deeds
My friend, I’ll bring nothing more than trouble to your doorstep
My friend, I’ll never be there when you call
My friend, I’m addicted to this way of life
My friend, I only care for things that add to my pathetic ruin
My friend, I don’t care for anybody but myself
My friend, I’m what your mother said a devil might turn out to be
My friend, I’m not proud of all of this
My friend, I’m simply honest and indiscreet
My friend, I’m losing but I’m happy and relaxed
My friend, I think you should stick around for another night and try your luck
poem by Dmitriy Kokarev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A woman can only become a man’s friend in three stages: first, she’s an agreeable acquaintance, then a mistress, and only after that a friend.
Anton Chekhov in Uncle Vanya (1897)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Lets Shake Hands
Whenever you need a friend come to me and ill be there to hold your hand
Where the life takes us no one of us can guess
But as long as I'm here you can count on me Just call my name and ill be right there my friend
The life is meaningless without tight hugs of friends
The roads of the life are narrow and hard to walk alone. We are in need of the tenderful hands of friends
To real and sweet care of a friend that gives us the push to climb the highest moutains without looking back Without fear when u have honest friend by your side
So come to me my friend and let's shake hands
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Won't You Come Home
Well i was out a drinkin'
With a couple of friends of mine
When the bartender handed me the telephone
Says "there's a wife on the line."
I told her i was just a drinkin'
With a couple of buddies i knew
She told me in a few short words
Just a what she wanted me to do
She said "oh won't you come home and talk to a stranger.
Cause you might even make yourself a friend."
She said "won't you come home and talk to a stranger.
It's the only place in days you haven't been."
Well i sat there about an hour
Talkin' with the rest of the guys
When she walked through that front door
She had "get home" in her eyes
She said "you've danced and talked
With every woman in town but me.
And if you'd just come around the house
You might like my company."
She said "oh won't you come home and talk to a stranger.
Cause you might even make yourself a friend."
She said "won't you come home and talk to a stranger.
It's the only place in days you haven't been."
She said "oh won't you come home and talk to a stranger.
Cause you might even make yourself a friend."
She said "won't you come home and talk to a stranger.
It's the only place in days you haven't been.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Won't You Come Home (And Talk To A Stranger)
Well I was out a drinkin' with a couple of friends of mine
When the bartender handed me the telephone
Said there's a wife on the line
I told her I was just a drinkin' with a couple of buddies I knew
but she told me in a few short words
Just what she wanted me to do
She said won't you come home and talk to a stranger
You might even make yourself a friend
She said won't you come home and talk to a stranger
It's the only place in days you haven't been
Well I sat there about an hour talkin' with the rest of the guys
When she walked through that front door
She had get home in her eyes
She said you've danced and talked with every woman in town but me
And if you'd just come around the house you might like my company
She said won't you come home and talk to a stranger
You might even make yourself a friend
She said won't you come home and talk to a stranger
It's the only place in days you haven't been
She said won't you come home and talk to a stranger
You might even make yourself a friend
She said won't you come home and talk to a stranger
It's the only place in days you haven't been
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Probably Me
If the night turned cold and the stars looked down
And you hug yourself on the cold cold ground
You wake the morning in a stranger's coat
No one would you see
You ask yourself who'd watch for me
My only friend who could it be
It's hard to say it
I hate to say it but it's probably me
When you belly's empty and the hunger's so real
And you're too proud to beg and too dumb to steal
You search the city for your only friend
No one would you see
You ask yourself, who could it be
A solitary voice to speak out and set you free
I gate to say it
I gate to say it, but it's probably me
You're not the easiest person I ever got to know
And it's hard for us both to let our feelings show
Some would say I should let you go your way
You'll only make me cry
If there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
It's hard to say it
It's hard to say it, but it's probably me
When the world's gone crazy and it makes no sense
There's only one voice that comes to your defence
The jury's out and your eyes search the room
And one friendly face is all you need to see
If there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
It's hard to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The trite saying that honesty is the best policy has met with the just criticism that honesty is not policy. The real honest man is honest from conviction of what is right, not from policy.
quote by Robert E. Lee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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