I think I ran so hard and so fast, in a lot of ways, from my life and I kind of took a fall. It was like - what do they call it? - post-traumatic stress syndrome.
quote by Rose McGowan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have this helicopter crash, and I fall in love with this man who was in the crash with me. I must have been suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.
quote by Christie Brinkley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I mean, they call it Stockholm Syndrome and post traumatic stress disorder. And, you know, I had no free will. I had virtually no free will until I was separated from them for about two weeks.
quote by Patty Hearst
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Speed
You need lovin', you're lookin' out for new romances
Yeah, it's true, you know you've got to take your chances
When i laugh, well baby don't you know you can cry
'cause you ain't enough lady, to keep the master satisfied, yeah
Well, you know, i got the kind of lovin' that you need
The kind of lovin' that you need
I'm so fast, that's why the ladies call me mr. speed
They call me mr. speed
You try pleasin', but gettin' on your knees don't make it
You try teasin', but baby you can't even fake it, no
Made it clear, but baby you can't even see me
So stop those tears 'cause baby you can't even deceive, ah, ah
Yeah, you know, i got the kind of lovin' that you need
The kind of lovin' that you need
I'm so fast, that's why the ladies call me mr. speed
Look out
Ow, i don't care
Yeah, you know, i got the kind of lovin' that you need
The kind of lovin' that you need
I'm so fast, that's why the ladies call me mr. speed
Mr. speed
Yeah, you know, i got the kind of lovin' that you need
The kind of lovin' that you need
I'm so fast, that's why the ladies call me mr. speed
Mr. speed
Yeah, you know, i got the kind of lovin' that you need
The kind of lovin' that you need
I'm so fast
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Your Own Ways
You are smart in your own ways
you are lovely in your own ways
you are beautiful in your own ways
You smile in your own ways
So crazy in your own ways
The madness of your own ways
such mysterious in your own ways
Those eyes of your own ways
You inspire me in your own ways
You talk in you own ways
you love me in your own ways
You suprise me in your own ways
Your kindness of its own kind
Your love of its own loveliness
your touch of its own comfort
And your kisses of its own sweetness
There is nothing so much worth to
treasure in my own ways than the
sweet memories of your own ways
Your life in your own ways
changes mine in its own way
God must have taken His own time
for sush a creation of its own kind
With everything in its own way
I must live your way.
poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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Passing The Night
The night passes in different ways,
I shall call them in other ways.
Thinking of my pride, the state of it is kind,
In your heart is a beating, and all away.
In your heart is hard beating from afar,
Like the night that passes from too much work.
A fast day is about for all to rise to,
Like the only fist of truth, only you.
Of us there are few who matter
Compared to the ones with hearts too successful.
poem by Naveed Akram
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How Did I Fall In Love With You
How did I fall in love with you
Remember when, we never needed each other
The best of friends like
Sister and brother
We understood, wed never be,
Alone
Those days are gone, and I want so much
The night is long and I need your touch
Dont know what to say
I never meant to feel this way
Dont want to be
Alone tonight
Chorus:
What can I do, to make you mine
Falling so hard so fast this time
What did I say, what did you do?
How did I fall in love with you?
I hear your voice
And I start to tremble
Brings back the child that, I resemble
I cannot pretend, that we can still be friends
Dont want to be,
Alone tonight
Chorus:
What can I do, to make you mine
Falling so hard so fast this time
What did I say, what did you do?
How did I fall in love with you?
Bridge:
Oh I want to say this right
And it has to be tonight
Just need you to know, oh yeah
I dont want to live this life
I dont want to say goodbye
With you I wanna spend
The rest of my life
Chorus:
What can I do, to make you mine
Falling so hard so fast this time
What did I say, what did you do?
How did I fall in love with you?
What can I do, to make you mine
Falling so hard so fast this time
Everythings changed, we never knew
How did I fall, in love, with you?
song performed by by Backstreet Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Ways
Old ways, it sure is hard to change em
Come what may
Its hard to teach a dinosaur a new trick
Lately Ive been finding out
Im set in my ways
Old ways, can be your ball and chain.
Oh, Im gonna stop that grass
And give up all this drinking
Really gonna make my life last
Clean up my whole way of living
Up until the party last night
I was a different man
But old ways got their way again.
The economy was getting so bad
I had to lay myself off
Well, working was a habit I had
So I kept showin up anyway
Then one day things turned around
I got my back pay
Old ways comin through again.
I got old ways.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cries of Anguish Sighed
One day,
You will say what you mean.
Without post-traumatic stress,
Coming to exist from a premeditative visit.
In preparation for your defense...
To have others see you as the one victimized.
The one picked upon...
As you sweeten with innocence.
And disgusting those not 'smoozed' by your pretense.
Beginning as it does to get sickening to witness.
Cries of anguish sighed are kicked to the side.
After a noticeable pattern of this,
Starts to affect too many lives.
And those entertained by it have been satisfied.
You hide behind deceit and embellished lies.
A disguise you have worn too long.
Smothering to mask insecurities and incompetence.
And instead of ending your charade,
You wish to enforce you way...
To have this maladjustment accepted.
Making it increasingly difficult,
For you to ever know reality...
Without peeking at it from a distance.
And complaining how 'mean' it seems!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Red book - The Rule Is You Must Say How You Really Feel.
Reading the red book. It tries to explain the rules of life. Never too fast, never too fast, it says it won't last. Burnt by the past. Some new so close to you. You must get to know them. Its a game you can slowly win. Bury your true feelings.
Reading the read book. It tries to explain the rules of life. Never to fast, never too fast. It says it won't last burnt by the past. We are all wearing masks. Time to take them off. Stop hiding behind your walls. It cost us all. It will be your down fall. Just another phone call. Meeting the face behind this stall. It has come to a sudden halt.
Reading the read book. It tries to explain the rules of life. Never too fast, never too fast. It says it won't last. Burnt by the past. Are we trying to hard? Are we faking this march? Are you trying to hide something underneath? Are you look for a little relief? Do you want me, and are afraid to say it? Denying our insides. They can't be alive. They just can't. And go back to the old dance.
Reading the red book. It tries to explain the rules of life. Never too fast, never too fast. It says it won't last. Burnt by the past. Memories ignite, previous passions locked up so tight. Are you willing? Are you giving in to obvious feelings. Let me know. And I won't go. Please stop the fruadlent show. Its faking thats so heart breaking. Is your heart aching? How can I make you understand this is your one and only chance. So please lets dance.
Reading the red book. It tries to explain the rules of the past. Never too fast, never too fast. It says it won't last. Burnt by the past. I have been burnt by the past.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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It's Kind of Funny
It's kind of funny how those who want life get it taken away,
while those who loathe it wander around.
Almost as if a waste.
It's kind of funny how those who try to do right get it spit back in their face.
The bad walk among us as if to be common people.
They, they get your respect.
It's kind of funny the people you love, they're usually the fall of you.
They say they're there for you but always somehow make you feel worthless.
It's kind of funny how everything can end so fast.
Everything can just disappear.
It's kind of funny how I wish I never met you.
I wish I could tell you.
I wish we could be.
And I wish that everything wasn't so funny and that everything could be what it is.
It's kind of funny how me and you,
we don't matter.
What I say and do will always be funny to you.
It's no longer funny.
poem by Elina Fields
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We All Have Different Approaches
Why do you climb the stairs,
To then intentionally fall down them.
To repeat that over again?
'I am practicing rejection.
I like to believe I am being pro-active,
About these things.
You know...
Reaching the top!
To then fall down.
Well...
Perhaps it was best,
You did not seek from anyone their advice.
'I want to learn from my own experiences.'
I took a different route.
But we all have different approaches,
To achieve similar results in the end.
I use to bang my head up against the walls.
'I'm not into that kind of pain.
That's too melodramatic.
I don't wont to be emotionally attached,
To my rejection.
That's why I am practicing not to be involved.
Hopefully I will experience less traumatic affects.'
Well...
Keep practicing.
I'm sure you will learn something,
That will eventually be suitable and life changing for you.
If you should live through your 'rehearsals',
Without breaking your neck.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My buddies (a reply to Boris Slutsky)
All young white men at a time
was forced into the military, into war
or had to serve a three year jail term
and most of my buddies came home,
but some did not:
Parachuting into a enemy camp
there was one close friend that died,
the other three I hardly knew
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
seven hundred and fifty
enemy SWAPO and Cuban casualties
and on one patrol one close buddy
stepped on a landmine
were blown up and no one else was hurt,
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
the enemy that had lost
little lest than a full platoon.
In Angola when we met enemy armour,
turned FAPLA / Cuban divisions
under Soviet leadership into junk
I saw a Ratel armoured car
that was trapped in a landmine field
that had been shot out
with the holes
were enemy tank projectiles went in
and every one inside was burnt, incinerated
if not blown to bits, turned into ash
and it had been only one of eleven
armoured cars
and troop carriers that was lost
some of only thirty-one soldiers dead
but there was pain that flashed through me
when I saw it
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
four thousand seven hundred and eighty five killed
on the Cuban/FAPLAN side,94 tanks
and hundreds of enemy combat vehicles destroyed
and now no one thinks
of the sacrifice that all of these soldiers made,
of the hundreds of thousands
of returning citizen force soldiers
who were nuts, bomb happy
with post traumatic stress syndrome
or whatever you want to call it
as to the government it is
an incidental small thing,
that happened in a distant past
as if the ex-soldiers are non-existing,
even seen as apartheid criminals by some.
[References: Buddies here used as name used in the South African Defence Force for comrades. Ex-soldiers here used instead of war veterans, as in African circles the word war veterans has got a new derogatory meaning connected to it. My Comrades by Boris Slutsky.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Stress removes stress
Stress your eyes to stare;
Stress your ears to listen;
Stress your brain to think;
Stress your belly to secrete.
Then they grow out of stress.
04.03.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To Be (Love Poem)
Sometimes it’s hard to be apart
Sometimes it’s hard to be brave
Sometimes it’s hard to be cold
Sometimes it’s hard to be daring
Sometimes it’s hard to be early
Sometimes it’s hard to be friends
Sometimes it’s hard to be good
Sometimes it’s hard to be happy
Sometimes it’s hard to be in-love
Sometimes it’s hard to be just
Sometimes it’s hard to be kind
Sometimes it’s hard to be lovely
Sometimes it’s hard to be mellow
Sometimes it’s hard to be nasty
Sometimes it’s hard to be out
Sometimes it’s hard to be poor
Sometimes it’s hard to be quiet
Sometimes it’s hard to be ready
Sometimes it’s hard to be simple
Sometimes it’s hard to be together
poem by Ian Beckett
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Hips got Soul
You can still be healthy and be a Super Model
with thick wide hips.
Not like your predecessor showing up in Cosmo
or on television with skinny legs and
dehydrated lips.
Television and magazines persuade you
to gag up your inner beauty.
Until you suffer from post-traumatic stress,
feel pity and then gain a small booty.
The reality of real sexy thick mamas still
live on from Marilyn Monroe, Pam Grier and
even Whoopi Goldberg and they all have and had soul.
Bringing entertainment with a bang, beauty and thick hips
looking like solid gold.
So never lose your inner beauty because of someone else
that isn't comfortable with the way that you look.
Because some day you may rise to the occasion, with your hips
that got soul and pose inside the Jet Magazine book.
poem by Ranis Thomas III
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Steel Citizen
Steel Citizen disappeared on the other side
of the border
and some people thought,
that he was shot to pieces
on the other side of the chop line,
but Steel Citizen was an unconquerable man
and strong like his name
and one day
he just took the road home.
He walked hundreds of kilometres
through the field
and lived from the bush
and didn’t set any landmines off
and one day a hardened man
with a LMG in his hands
and a knife in one of his boots
and a savage beard
walked past me
and his eyes were dead
without any life
and he didn’t want to talk
or wanted anything from me
and just walked on
with bigger steps into the distance.
It was clear that it was Steel Citizen
and that he was fed up with war and death
and more bomb happy than most
and I hope,
that he found his rest somewhere
and are not still
walking along.
[Reference: Chop line= Cleared border line. LMG=> Light machine gun. Bomb happy=> Post traumatic stress disorder.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ex Post Facto
i. Prologue Ex
This forever war is flowing somewhere…
A ballad of the blues over sanguine seas.
The baghdad blues:
a man in a corner does not move.
His wife and children, strewn: lost love-letters of blood.
Beneath the veil of a willowy dream,
as if the world shall absolve you with buttery palms.
God is watching you, sad soldier,
dragging the landing gear of prosthetics.
ii. Post En Medias Res
In this land of no escape,
Take me to Walter Reed,
The privatized foothold of rats,
Birthing future breeders
Of post traumatic stress,
Oil oligarchy disorder.
To spend limbless days,
basking in the sun’s rays, enlivened
with particles of biochemical warfare.
iii Facto Epilogue
I hear America crying:
politicians as war heroes,
priests as common criminals,
bards at the podium.
And where are the philosophers?
Destined to the peeling wail
of a teetering helicopter,
Small mosquito in the eye of God?
Listen, America, dry your tears,
don’t bask in the permanent grandeur
of abandoned radio halls
As we walk on water like Jesus,
Apprenticed for Armageddon.
poem by Marina Gipps
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Looking Back
As I look back upon my life, through all the toil, pain and strife,
Hard times were sprinkled still, with a joy of being in God’s will.
Joy that helped me be strong, when all seemed to be so wrong,
With a peace in the dark of day, as He stood by me all the way.
Even in the darkest of night, the Spirit let me know all was right,
Not because of what I knew, but, because He’d see me through.
I’ve seen moves by God’s hand, in ways I could not understand,
Moving through this life for me, in ways that I could not foresee.
However, there was a time, when Christ the Savior was not mine,
Though religious, not knowing Him, I was but a sinner lost in sin.
And Christ was only my judge, a thought that I’d only begrudge,
As I lived my life as I saw fit, for the Truths of God I did not get.
But then He was patient with me, guiding me so that I could see,
The need for God within my life, through the witness of my wife.
Not only did He help me see, but He blessed my life abundantly,
And through my Savior Jesus Christ, I’ve been given Eternal Life.
He wants to do for you the same, if you’ll call on the Only Name,
Given to men for all to be saved, no matter how old or depraved,
And since every knee shall bow, why not call upon Him right now,
Confess the name of Jesus Christ, who shall give to you new life.
(Copyright ©06/2008)
Fast or Slow.
There are two kinds of people to this existence,
One is fast, stressed out, full of fear in all performance.
Want to prove that he/she is better then the rest,
Ambition, pushiness, mostly ruthlessness is their quest.
Then, there are the slow ones who are careful,
Thinking over things, calm and cheerful,
Because they learned on the hard way,
It do not worth to be stressed out in any day.
You can choose which life for you is important,
Rushing through life, suffer a lot or live life pleasant.
Just let go and let God direct your steps,
Believe that He already do and you will never have any stress.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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Fast Buck Freddie
He said hold a dollar bill up to the mirror
And Ill show you something funny
Its only a fast buck, but
Its so hard to make that kind of money.
Now its hard to get serious when the joker
Is laughing
And by now the joker is wild
Its hard to keep laughing when a rich mans
Reflection
Looks like a gun thats gonna smile
Whats going on, I ask you
Whats going on, can you see?
Whats going on, I ask you and
Whos coming on, is it you or me?
Coming on while its still soft and warm
Burn it dry before the fiery storm
Sing it now while you still have a song
Grab on now while youre still feeling strong.
How long, how long would you like it
How long, how long will it be
How long, how long can we take it?
How long before we take it back, you and me
Think fast.
I was thinking that I should be singing along
Think fast I think hes coming thru
Think fast, he thinks hes running you
I was thinking that I should be singing along
Think fast, he thinks hes coming in
Think fast, I think hes wearing thin
I was thinking that I should be singing along
Think fast, hes taking all your time
Think fast, you know hes out of line
But who cares, you know you can, you will, you
Know you can.
Sing it now while you still
Sing it now while you still
Sing it now while you still have a song.
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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