You can't teach the old maestro a new tune.
quote by Jack Kerouac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teach Me How to Eat
If you notice I stay hungry,
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice no baloney,
Teach me how to eat.
More discipline I may be needing.
Teach me how to eat.
More seriousness I may yet miss.
Teach me how to eat.
No medications do I take,
To keep a pace that irritates.
No longer young with dumb ideals.
Teach me how to eat.
I wish a peace that keeps me feeding.
So teach me how to eat.
I see in you more than in some.
The ones who can not overcome.
I see some stumble as others run.
But you,
Know how to eat.
Success you've reached and still you seek.
Teach me how to eat...
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
Success you've reached and still you seek.
Teach me how to eat...
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice I stay hungry,
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice no baloney,
Teach me how to eat.
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
Teach me how to eat.
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Teach Them Young
We teach them young,
What to dislike.
And...
To separate into divisons,
With preferences selected.
We teach them young,
How to hate and who to fight.
With weapons used to kill.
And incite with mindless deeds.
We...
Teach them this!
We teach them,
With a rehabilitation done...
To respect laws when broken.
With the best of pretentions kept.
We...
Teach them this!
We teach them young,
The art of deception.
Self righteousness and hypocriscy.
And then when they reflect these lessons taught...
We teach them denial to have others believe.
We teach them young with a doing done they do!
And yet we get upset with regrets to protest those tests,
They have passed.
With accusations directed at others to blame,
For implimenting those tasks we teach.
We...
Teach them young!
With a doing of this not to admit.
As we wish for escape from their commitments,
Made.
We...
Teach them young.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To ward of anarchy.
You teach me not to steal.
Can you teach the rodent?
You teach me not to kill.
Can you teach the cat?
You teach me not to cuckold.
Can you teach the street dog?
None of them obey;
Nor are they away from God.
I obey; not to please the God
But to ward off anarchy.
03.02.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Maestro
Why is that guy back again to play the Flute?
He was among the French Horn players,
For many years.
Back then he was hotly pursued.
What is this all about?
The audience stirs with curiosity.
I admit...
I too am inquisitive.
'Perhaps it has all been orchestrated.
I've noticed this new 'maestro'...
Has a unique approach to sound.
And how that sound is produced.
He certainly uses that baton,
Like one no one has ever seen before.'
I've begun to notice,
How his footprint is being implemented...
Quite effectively.
To leave 'this' orchestration,
One to be forever remembered.
And with hardly any opposition.
What is the title of this new composition,
Arranged by this young maestro.
'Let The Sun Rise And Set Over Hawaii'
Interesting.
Very, very interesting.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Teach The Gifted Children
Teach the gifted children
Teach them to have mercy
Teach them about sunsets
Teach them about moonrise
Teach them about anger
The sin that comes with dawning
Teach them about flowers
And the beauty of forgetfulness
Then take me to the river (take me to the river)
And put me in the water (and put me in the water)
Bless them and forgive them (take me to the river)
Father cause they just dont know (take me to the river)
All the gifted children
Teach the gifted children
The way of men and animals
Teach them about cities
The history of the mysteries
Their vice and their virtues
About branches that blow in the wind
On the wages of their sins
Teach them of forgiveness
Teach them about mercy
Teach them about music
And the cool and cleansing waters
What do they say, take me to the river (take me to the river)
Take me to the river (take me to the river)
Put me in the water (take me to the river)
And teach the gifted children (take me to the river)
All the gifted children (take me to the river)
(take me to the river)
(take me to the river)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How To Train A Snake
How To Train A Snake
Date: August 22,2012
Teach me not to suffer, dear
To rise up from the fall
Teach me to feel the sunshine
And to understand the call
Teach my heart, to be as stone
Numbed against the sting
Teach me how to shed my skin
And never feel a thing
Teach me how to carry on
To close the open doors
Teach me to darken every page
And never yearn for more
Teach me all, you know so well
To search for prey, as you
Teach me how to slither by
Still smiling when I'm through
********************************** ***********
Copyright © 2012 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins
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Knock It Up a Notch
Teach me...
How to knock it up a notch.
Teach me...
What it is that you've got!
Teach me.
I'm willing and able.
Teach me.
Don't you want my help,
To fulfill your need.
Teach me...
How to knock it up a notch.
Teach me...
What it is that you've got!
Will you teach me.
When you want that bop to stop.
Teach me...
And I promise you one day I'll want to 'eatcha'.
And there will be a need for slower speed,
When I begin to heat the teacher.
Um-um,
Mama teach me...
How to knock it up a notch.
Oh Mama teach me...
What it is that you've got!
Give me what it is until I like it more than not!
Teach me...
How to knock it up a notch.
Teach me...
What it is that you've got!
Will you teach me.
When you want that bop to stop.
Teach me...
And I'll promise you'll,
We'll switch up when you want me as your teacher.
We'll switch up when you want me as your teacher.
Switch up when you want me as your teacher.
We'll switch up when you want me as your teacher.
Switch up when you want me as your teacher.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Teach Me How To Fly
It's never to late to open the gate.
'Teach me.
Teach me.'
Age is nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me to free myself.
Teach me like no one else.'
Moons come and those Summers go.
It's never too late to open the gate.
Minds in fear keep those dreams slowed.
Age aint nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
It's never too late to open the gate.
'Teach me,
I'd like to try.'
You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.
'Why can't you reach me to teach me,
To break away from those limits made? '
You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
I can't.
It was something I desired.
And with that desire...
I found it could be done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Of The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
So I Ask You...What Of The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the corner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Who Will Teach The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
WHO WILL TEACH THE CHILDREN? (rated 24)
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Teach Me O Moon
Teach me O moon to be just like you
Teach me O moon to glow brightly as you do
To glow so strongly more than any shiny star
Teach me O moon to be so beautiful as you are
To be an example of the ultimate talking beauty
Teach me O moon to perform well my duty
As thou always do when you show up every night
And spread to the whole dark world thy shy light
Teach me O moon to always rise whenever I fall
And to break with the hammer of determination that wall
The wall of hardships, sorrows, despair and darkness
The wall of ignorance, pessimism, weakness and sadness
Teach me O moon to always return for the beloved ones
And to be like a tender mother to her sons
Teach me O moon to soar up in the vast sky
So that people shall raise their heads to see me flying high
Teach me O moon to be always so peaceful and calm
And teach me O moon to be always better than I am
poem by Jawad Al Harake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upon the Table of Fulfilled Wishes
Teach me not to nibble and feed,
On an appetite of my own selfish needs.
I am seeking a new diet,
That inspires a fresh insight.
With a brightness that incites,
A joyous excitement.
Teach me to appreciate all that I am.
Help me reach out to others...
To awaken that view,
Enabling them to see 'that' within them too!
If you've come to teach me greed.
Teach me to crave the gluttony of happiness.
Teach me to instruct others...
Deception is not a taste,
To welcome with an invitation...
At this grand feast to take place!
Teach me not to nibble and feed,
On an appetite of my own selfish needs.
Teach me to know that my happiness and joy...
Can only be fed,
If others are encouraged to also share.
Bringing with them a dish...
To spread upon the table of fulfilled wishes,
In this season of blessings to caress!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Teach Me Not Because
teach me not
of hatred.my heart
cries for love true and pure
teach, me not of wars
my mind had not come across
what is meant of prison cells
i do not wish to chase white doves
and put them in a cage
die of hunger
i want them to live peacefully
freely...dance with the wind
rest on white clouds
for they are the keeper of peace
not just on earth but also in heaven.
teach me not
of isolation and despair
i want to live among men
care for their plight
sing for them the songs of the lark
and their dreams be of a place
where sadness is but a dream
and not a stark reality..
teach me not to hate silence
for it is a virtue and a medium
to know better the beats from within
for i know that noisines drives
away the goodnesss of the heart
and the beauty of the soul..
teach me not to hate
teach me not of wars
teach me not of despair
teach me not of isolation
but..
teach me how to appreciate peace
teach me how to love
teach me how to care
teach me how to share
because i only wanted
to be an instrument of peace
of love
of care
of compassion
of serenity
because
i am
a man
a loving creature
of....
God
poem by Villiamor Calventas
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Hollywood is kind of a bad world.
quote by Mia Maestro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If something's important to you, you make time for it.
quote by Mia Maestro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Forget Them...
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Untitled
Sure/go to cali/have fun/bring me back/a silver gun/
let me shoot/a hole in the sky/give the moon/another
eye/so I can see/deep inside/in the place/where all
time hides/where people go/after their gone/and love
without love/still marches on/to the tune of a different song/
to the tune of a different song/miss me when your gone/
to the tune of a different song
you left your heart/in san francisco/getting down at the
disco/when she walked up/too your hand/danced you
down/danced you down/when you land/land on me/you see me/
I'm off the wall/against the wall/I can't call/you can't hear/above the
noise/above the sound/she dances you up/she dances you down/
I grab my coat/and then I'm gone/ to the tune of a different song/
to the tune of a different song/miss me when I'm gone/to the tune
of a different song
the holiday covered in snow/now you're back/where'd you go? /
you got a number/she give you her's/was it hot/ what've you got/
did she take your breath away/what have you got to say/did she take your
breath away/on the beach/in the sun/on the sand/on the run/ in the heat/
in the cold/what have you got left to hold/she took your hand/but now she's gone/
and here I stand/life goes on/to the tune of a different song/to the tune of a different
song/miss me when I'm gone/to the tune of a different song
Catatonica
As our duet of love, a performance shown, is put upon display for vulgar eyes on the floor; the lights change with painted overlooks splashing their palette of watercolours over our moving bodies.
To the beat we dance, our tune a virgin, for the tune's beat that we dance to is no longer a mere dance away, our dance must fly with this tune in time with the tune's beat and in beat with our dance that we synced to this tune.
We tune our bodies in, tune them perfectly together with not just the beat and our dance, but with each other's minds and each other's hearts.
Within our thin, weak, skinny minds our thoughts think their own thoughts, deeper within our thought's tune and beat it dances inside a caved-in thought of the thinking tune's rhythmic beat timing itself to our dance.
Matching in the sky, our steps amaze, no tune can support us on its waves of notes and colons and no beat can out-beat us in it's own tragedy of percussion.
Our dance is a shaman of ritual love, packaged under the moon's eye for all to see and admire in its own tunefully-beating-dancing light.
We are going to dance forever, dance until there's no dance left in us, dance until our blood mixes with each others and our soul's diseases decay with one another's and we become the dance.
The tune we create in our minds is that of purity, no one will hear this tune except for us. Me and You.
The beats will never fade, no stamp stopped too sincerely, no stomp slacking too slowly.
We're going to dance, we're going to dance, we're going to dance. We're going to dance to our own beat, to our own tune, and to our own love.
poem by April Abigail
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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