Listening is the only way to entertain some folks.
quote by Kin Hubbard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The only way to entertain some folks is to listen to them.
quote by Kin Hubbard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Can Not Call These Folks Mentally Sick
They can not get enough,
Of being in someone else's business.
And since they evade truth...
They create their own.
With initiated lies they are quick to tell.
Seeped within embellishment,
To entertain anyone listening.
And they wonder why their children...
Occupy jail cells and juvenile detention homes.
These folks are never home,
Building anything on foundations of strength.
They are too busy seeking to destroy and destruct.
And with 'that' they have found success!
Then they campaign to gather loudly...
To strain the ears of anyone,
Who will give them time.
To hear their voices wail and cry!
That a unity is dieing.
And this has been done...
By those trying to keep them divided!
You can not call these folks mentally sick!
Their addictions to this has been historic.
And they take what is said,
To become offended by it!
Debating amongst themselves...
In churches that surround them,
Praying for a fix as they sit...
Dressed in their Sunday best!
And passing out judgements.
It is there to be observed!
In all its franchised splendor.
'I smell a conspiracy! '
As long as you do not satisfy a craving to taste it,
You will be just fine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Bruises II
I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?
poem by Norman Santos
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What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As my career has progressed, I've had the pleasure of playing with the baddest jazz cats on the planet. But that doesn't change my desire to entertain folks. That's really who I am.
quote by George Benson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Listening Week
This is the listening week of the year
Listening-in.
A-cock and alert is the national ear
Listening-in.
All over the land in the country towns,
From the back of the Leeuwin to Darling Downs,
Layers of 'quids' or the odd half-crowns,
They are listening-in.
On the far-flung farms they are round each set,
Listening-in.
The work and the worry they all forget,
Listening-in.
Wherever an aerial soars in space
To the Cup, or the Oaks or the Steeplechase,
To the roar of the ring and the lure of the race
They are listening-in.
In the far outback there are sun-tanned men,
Listening-in.
Where the woolshed stands by the drafting pen
Listening-in.
Old Dad's come in from the Ninety Mile;
He scored on the Cup and he wears a smile,
And he 'reckons this game is well worth while'
So he's listening in.
To the edge of the desert the sound-waves go;
And, listening-in,
Ned of the Overland, Saltbush Joe
Listening-in
Recall the giants of years long past,
And the loneliness of these spaces vast;
But they reckon that life's worth living at last
With this listening-in.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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I'm more influenced by my own interests than anyone else's. Writers have to entertain themselves, or they can't entertain anyone else.
quote by Laurell K. Hamilton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tales of Those Now Listening
Folks now gone.
With advice given ignored but shared...
Surfacing upon once deaf ears,
Suddenly heard...
As if from no where!
Those maturing with a wisdom,
Brought upon by age and reflecting...
Leave some to ask,
'Mama 'why' did I not listen then?
Daddy, we had our differences...
But what you tried to express,
I confess...
Seemed so old fashion and useless.
And when the two of you restricted me,
From doing things that would bring harm...
I thought my world would end.'
And the tales of those now listening...
Are as old although they remain ever so fresh.
And the listening somehow is heard,
Clearer now than it has ever been.
Some are spoken to their hard headed children.
With a hope 'something' learned,
Will sink into their thick and disrespecting skins.
But these tales of those now listening,
And delivered...
Seem to breathe new life,
As each generation applies an innovative affliction.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Listening
Listening.
And being there for someone loved...
To do just that!
With a mind willing,
To be receptive and clear...
Of opinions sitting,
On the tip of one's tongue.
With a giving of attention,
And staying mum.
Listening to someone.
Listening is not easily done.
For those who have experienced...
A life in which peace of mind has come.
When a listening ear,
Had not been volunteered by no one.
And some who know this...
Do their best to sit with patience.
Listening with no other reason...
But to be there as is wished.
For someone who has selected you,
Just for this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Much Rest They Get
There are those who entertain themselves,
By bed hopping and dropping lies on folks.
And claiming to be what they are not!
For purposes to keep their deceit flowing...
And nonstop!
There are those who gratify themselves,
By passing judgement.
Especially in groups...
Who do it to each other,
To dupe one another.
And there are those who prefer to be alone.
Doing what they choose to do best!
Minding their own business...
At home.
Whether alone or not.
But with a peace of mind,
And...
Much rest,
They get!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some folks rail against other folks, because other folks have what some folks would be glad of.
quote by Henry Fielding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Up In the Projects
You want to know what it's like,
To grow up in the projects?
Being different and taking risks?
'Can't be that bad! '
Follow me.
'Where are we going? '
Up to the roof.
'To the roof? '
Yeah.
I want to show you something from my point of view.
Now...
Turnaround.
Put your hands behind your back.
'Why? '
I'm going to tie your hands behind your back.
Then I'm going to blindfold you before I leave you alone.
'But...
I might fall off the roof.
Aren't you concerned about that? '
You'll learn to adjust.
If you want to survive.
And...
If you can not get up from a fall?
Maybe you were too blind not to pay attention.
Some steps some folks shouldn't take.
Listening and observation is key.
Common sense is precious.
You be surprise how many lessons one learns,
Growing up in the projects.
'But my hands are tied.
And I can't see.'
I use to hear that all the time!
~Boy! Can't you see my hands are tied?
I can't see where the next dime is coming from.
And all I get from you is lip! ~
Note:
Not too many folks I knew who grew up
in the projects became victims from the experience.
In fact, most of the folks became very successful people.
But...that was a time when expectations were high.
And many years ago when folks chose to have 'some' identity
and dignity connected to the 'self' and a growth process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Drugged Up and Prescribed Medicated Existences Limited
If folks think I'm a homo?
I'm gonna give them that,
And something more than homo.
If they think of me as straight?
They will get that too,
On their dinner plate.
People finding slots to lock,
Names and tags on one another...
Have done themselves the injustice.
And grounded, they are, in cemented ignorance.
Trying to find themselves in religions,
Where those 'church' addicted commit most the sins.
Is a programming of the mind that's done.
To have those in need be controlled by someone.
And me,
My life will be loved.
Independently to breathe as it was given to me.
And if another human being wishes to hug me with love,
They will get that received.
Just how it was given to me.
But I do have my preferences.
If you get my drift!
So if folks think I'm a homo?
I'm gonna give them that,
And something more than homo.
If they think of me as straight?
They will get that too,
On their dinner plate.
I do not spend my time,
With folks seeking to find a hole
To bury their brains including their minds.
Is there anything else folks can do?
Than to entertain their empty lives,
With who screwing and doing 'who'.
This is all so immature and foolish.
I'm going to live my life as the gift it is.
And leave those who are self righteous about theirs,
To their own drugged up and prescribed medicated existences limited.
'I bet you can't say that five times fast? '
What? 'drugged up and prescribed medicated existences limited'?
You're right!
I had trouble saying it 'that' time and the first as slow as possible.
I am the author.
So...
I don't have to say it at all.
It's written and for that purpose intended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Merciless men
No bulls! All bullocks!
All castrated, libido arrested,
They toil for their men-folks.
All cows! Only to yield calves,
With no bulls to mate them,
Or to beat cows’ heat.
Just to milk for the folks!
Bulls no more masculine
To fall in love with cow;
Cows, though fully feminine,
Excite no male to copulate.
Cows are delivered of their calves,
Having never gone to sex,
By seminal injections.
Bullocks are stripped of peak of sex..
Creations go without lovemaking.
Men and women of all walks,
From sixteen to sixty or more,
Learn to groom their passion,
With hormones and fashion,
To entertain their orgasm,
By nature way or manipulation,
As often as they desired,
In multitudes and with multitudes,
Whether for a child or not,
More often for no procreation.
Devices are found against confinement
And for a high erotic enjoyment.
Lovemaking goes without creation.
Animals are killed of sexual joy
To multiple the race.
Men-folks are filled of erotic joy
To limit the race.
05.02.99, Dindukal
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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That Voice Of Choice Is Their Own
When a game of catch up,
Believed can be played to be done...
Is initiated by some who think,
This battle against time can be won...
Is a matter of choice?
Their minds are stuck!
Listening to one voice.
And that voice of choice is their own.
And there is nothing in this world,
To convince people like this...
That their resistance in a stubbornness,
Has nothing to do with enemies or terrorists.
The ones witnessed being victimized,
Are they who perceive doing what they please...
Ultimately results to their benefit.
And there is a mindset of folks who think life is a joke!
With a listening done to one voice!
Not yours or mine,
By choice.
Just one voice and that is their own.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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More than their dues
Artists entertain the mass.
God men entertain the mass.
Both get their wages and praises
More than their dues and toils
From us who pay them with wills.
23.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smell Like Teen Spirt
Load up on guns and bring your friends
its fun to lose and to pretend
She's over bored and self assured
oh ,no ,I know a dirty word
(chorus)
hello ,hello,hello,how low
hello,hello, hello,how low
hello,hello,hello,how low
hello,hello,hello.....
with the lights out its less dangerous
here,we are now ,entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
here,we are now entertain us
A malotto,An albino,A mosquito
My libido
Yay.......yay
I'm worse at what I do best
And for this gift i feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end
(chorus)
And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah,I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard its hard to find
Oh well,whatever, nevermind
(chorus)
(chorus)
hello ,hello,hello,how low?
hello,hello, hello,how low?
hello,hello,hello,how low?
hello,hello,hello.....
with the lights out its less dangerous
here,we are now ,entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
here,we are now entertain us
A mulatto,An albino,A mosquito
My libido
A denial (9x)
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I try to find what is closest to me in the character. There's many sides to personality, but it's a matter of, do you entertain those specific areas of your personality, or are you afraid to entertain them?
quote by Corin Nemec
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, I'll tell you something, this wedding is something that I will always, always cherish. It was a show of love and support and kindness like I'd never seen from the people, and that's who I entertain. I entertain the people.
quote by Liza Minnelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Ain't Mad Atcha!
Sorry...
I'm not here to provide,
A lesser intelligence.
One that establishes an ignorance,
You will be at ease to welcome.
Sorry...
I ain't about that.
And I've just stop apologizing,
For my talents and gifts.
Yeah I got 'em and their enjoyed.
Everyone of them.
Hey,
If folks don't appreciate where my head is at...
I still have to pay my own bills.
And pray to God to keep my head above water.
Cook, eat and chill!
That's what I do when I entertain a meal!
And I ain't 'fellin' no BS in my life!
I ain't about that.
If you are?
I ain't mad atcha!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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