A Pickbrain
What! imitate me, friend? Suppose that you
With agony and difficulty do
What I do easily-what then? You've got
A style I heartily wish _I_ had not.
If I from lack of sense and you from choice
Grieve the judicious and the unwise rejoice,
No equal censure our deserts will suit
We both are fools, but you're an ape to boot!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Louder Than Words
The wearing of a man's suit,
A little boy may easily imitate.
But a boy in a man's body,
Whether dressed in a suit or not...
Will still be seen,
As a little boy imitating.
Actions don't always speak,
Louder than the words heard imulated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take and be prepared for my friend C.P
The desert plains of ice and snow are not a place I’d choose to go.
Nor sandy wastes under the sun dry deserts don’t suit everyone.
The high plateaus of the Andes; I can assure you will not please.
Perhaps I’m choosy but I find such desert places most unkind.
I much prefer the moors I roam which welcome me. I feel at home.
Although they’re barren, wild and bleak I find the solitude I seek.
Each to his own I must suppose. My own high moors are what I chose.
I listen when they speak to me, I understand them easily.
They can be dangerous it’s true. You can take risks if you choose to.
I don’t take risks I know the rules. The high moors have no time for fools.
I have been sometimes weather bound by sudden mists which cloak the ground.
I have sufficient sense to see my moors are merely testing me.
Mistakes the moors will not forgive, I am prepared so I survive.
A wise man gives the moors respect but fools don not but they expect.
Tolerance for their carelessness their stupid unpreparedness.
The moors are not the enemy they judge all men impartially.
Some learn by hard experience there’s limits to their tolerance.
But others pay the penalty. Killed by their own stupidity.
06/09/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please youreslf
I think that ladies should ignore
The dictates of the fashion trade
The doubtful claims of haute couture
by so called experts often made.
A wise lady will choose her clothes
to show her assets at their best.
Not as the expert all suppose
to look exactly like the rest.
Dress to suit your face and figure
There is no need to buy in haste
clothes which make your rivals snigger.
Have faith in your own good taste.
Women come in many shades
different shapes and different sizes.
Mature matrons and slim young maids.
Every one that some man prizes.
A well dressed women who stands out.
Knows full well what she’s about.
She won’t let the experts tell her
how to dress to please her feller.
Some women have good fashion sense
but many lack the confidence
to tell the experts to get lost.
They can dress well at half the cost.
Fashion labels may sell clothes
but only silly girls suppose.
Only the latest style will do.
When obviously it is not true.
Suit yourself in the way you dress.
Choose the clothes that will suit you
If you do you will impress
in the way you ought to do.
Let all the fashion gurus prate
But don’t believe a word they say.
You know that you will look great
when you dress in your own way
Fashions come and fashions go.
You know when you’re looking good
What do the so called experts know? .
Ignore them as you know you should.
8-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Agnostic
The chapel looms against the sky,
Above the vine-clad shelves,
And as the peasants pass it by
They cross themselves.
But I alone, I grieve to state,
Lack sentiment divine:
A citified sophisticate,
I make no sign.
Their gesture may a habit be,
Mechanic in a sense,
Yet somehow it awakes in me
Strange reverence.
And though from ignorance it stem,
Somehow I deeply grieve,
And wish down in my heart like them
I could believe.
Suppose a cottage I should buy,
And little patch of vine,
With pure and humble spirit I
Might make the Sign.
Aye, though I godless way I go,
And sceptic in my trend,
A faith in something I don't know
Might save me in the end.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Testing In a Marketed Ghetto
Style to address.
Style to impress,
Style.
Style to originate.
Update and/or replace.
To modify what has been done.
Refreshing an existence for everyone.
Whether or not,
It may irritate some.
While others may imitate it.
Style is what it takes,
To shape and remake to satisfy...
The taste of those who claim they know what it is!
After testing in a marketed ghetto.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ain't Gonna Grieve
by Bob Dylan
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Come on brother, join the band,
Come on sisters, clap your hands,
Tell everybody that's in the land,
You ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Brown and blue and white and black,
All one color on the one-way track,
We got this far and ain't a-goin' back
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
We're gonna notify your next of kin,
You're gonna raise the roof until the house falls in.
If you get knocked down get up again,
We ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
We'll sing this song all night long,
Sing it to my baby from midnight on.
She'll sing it to you when I'm dead and gone,
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In that sense, film is superior, but the difficulty is your lack of control as a writer.
quote by Terry Southern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Not Choose
i made my choice
and my choice was to not choose
what happens next
is not of my choosing
but merely a consequence
of my indecision
so be kind to my lack of choice
it was the only way
to not be forced between two goods
and instead be made to have ONE
and in that one, is my future
my future of wellbeing
and knowing that
i did not choose wrongly
(heh, i don't know what's up with my writing style lately... it's very much NOT structured... or rhyming all that much... hmm...)
poem by Something Changing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be what you are
Cats don’t imitate tigers;
Ducks don’t imitate swans;
Cocks don’t imitate peacocks.
Must you imitate to live up?
28.08.2000, Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Merciful Release?
Merciful Release.
The mist descended suddenly.
Totally unexpectedly.
I could not see to find my way
So I decided I should stay
Just where I was. It seemed to be.
The wisest choice
I’m not so certain that it was
I think perhaps that is because.
The clammy fog embraces me
And whispers to me quietly
You have no choice.
If I decide to let you go
I am quite certain you will know.
Not to brave the moors alone
These moors are mine all that I own
and I rejoice.
I have the power to heal or kill
I always had and always will.
These moors are worthy of respect
It is mission to protect.
It whispered sotto voice.
I will remember till I die.
There is no reason I should lie
The day the mist enveloped me
and whispered to me quietly
I hear that voice.
In nightmares to this very day.
Although it let me go my way.
I still retain the memory
Of the lesson taught to me.
The moors own voice.
Although it spoke so quietly
Is etched deep in my memory
I can’t forget although I try
And to this day I wonder why.
It made the choice
To set me free as suddenly
as the mist had captured me.
I don’t suppose I’ll ever know
Why it chose to let me go
I had no choice.
The moors have little time for fools
They can and will enforce their rules
I'm forced to take it seriously
Or pay the price
Tuesday,15 November 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wise men profit more from fools than fools from wise men for the wise men shun the mistakes of fools, but fools do not imitate the successes of the wise.
quote by Cato the Elder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Help Him Celebrate
I stood at the gate of our boot hill,
where the ashes of a friend now lay.
I said a silent prayer,
while I was standing there.
I prayed to God to watch over him.
It was another friend’s 80th birthday.
He wanted his old friend
to celebrate with him;
he had a bottle of his favourite tipple,
and poured it on the boot hill ground.
He was smiling as he did it,
maybe he wasn’t there in person,
but that didn’t bother him.
As far as he was concerned,
the old friend was having a drink on him.
This actually happened at a friends 80th birthday party yesterday.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yo' Bootay to Hoottang Boot
Youcanbuttonupyourcollarfromthebottomtothetop.
So-no-onebothersyouforwhatyou'vegot.
Pretendi ngyou'vegotsomethingyouhavenot.
Or-youcoul dchoosetokeepitlockeduptight.
So-youdon'thavet odropittofeedanappetite.
It's-yo'bootayhoottan gtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
It's yo'bootayhoottangtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
Letothersm isunderstandyourstimulationindebate.
Inplayerh atecasestheywannamandate.
Letothersdecidewhosi detoride...
Withwideyedliestheytrytohide.
I t's-yo'bootayhoottangtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
It's yo'bootayhoottangtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
It's-yo'bo otaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
It's-yo'bootaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
Youcanbuttonupyourcollarfromthebottomtoth etop.
So-no-onebothersyouforwhatyou'vegot.
Pretendingyou'vegotsomethingyouhavenot.
It 's-yo'bootaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
It's-yo'bootaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
Letothersmisunderstandyourstimulationinde bate.
Inplayerhatecasestheywannamandate.
Le tothersdecidewhosidetoride...
Withwideyedliest heytrytohide.
It's-yo'bootayhoottangtopoot ang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Style
Style must not be underrated
Style is often overlooked
Style is never in the papers
I read it like an open book
Style
If you cant see the substance
Style shows how its organized
Style is looking for your money
Its in the way you paint your eyes
There is always a way
A way things are done
Ive been learning my abcs
I know what is 10, I know what is 1 in
Style is a naked look
Underneath your style
Style of a different place
Talking through your style
Even the way you hide it
Reveals the thing you hide
Your style may never cause a riot
Its still a style to have no style
There is always a way
To light up a lamp
Its been a crazy year all around
The check never came
I cant let it cramp my
Style is a world for sale
You cant buy this style
Style that you cant resist
You wont cramp my style
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fools haven
The haven of fools
This is the haven fools
Fools do not like greatness
So they hate to progress
Fools lack wisdom
They are far from freedom
Their heart attaineth riches
But they don't have riches
Fools will perish
But the upright will flourish
He will nourish
Has anybody seen
The end of the foolish
Think for wisdom excelleth folly
Whom will you like to be
The end of the upright
Is everlasting life
Like a tree
Planted by the river side
Marry it, let it be your bride
Keep it as your pride
Do away with ignorant
For the truth is important
Fools has pleasure in vanity
But the happiness
Of the wise is in eternity
poem by Matt Ancient
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boot and Saddle
I
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
Chorus. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
III
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
IV
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Bloomfield from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Leave off the Agony in Style
Come all ye good people, listen to me, pray,
While I speak of fashion and style of today;
If you will notice, kind hearts it will beguile,
To keep in fashion and putting on style.
Chorus --
Leave off the agony, leave off style,
Unless you've got money by you all the while,
If you'll look about you you'll often have to smile,
To see so many people putting on style.
People in this country they think it is the best;
They work hard for money and lay it out in dress;
They think of the future with a pleasant smile,
And lay by no money while putting on style.
Chorus --
Some of the people will dress up so fine,
Will go out in company and have a pleasant time.
Will rob themselves of food, perhaps, all the while,
Sake of following fashions and putting on style.
Chorus --
I love to see the people dress neat and clean,
Likewise follow fashions, but not extremes;
Some friends will find it better in future awhile,
To lay by some money while putting on style.
Chorus --
Gentlemen on the jury decides the criminal's fate;
I pray you turn from wickedness before it is too late;
Sad, indeed, would be your friends to hear your name reviled,
Better be truly honest though putting on style.
Chorus --
Leave off the agony, leave off style,
Unless you've got money by you all the while.
If you look about you you'll often have to smile,
To see so many poor people putting on style.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Devoted and Truer Fools
Those who 'use' to be the ones,
Depicted as fools.
With a diminishing done,
To any influence they might have had...
Have not been the fools,
Many were led to believe.
With a choice to ruin their integrity!
It seems those fools,
Had always worn tailored made suits.
And deceived with fake impressions.
Diluting those minds without a conscious.
And it seems as though,
Those who have followed the ones...
Impressing with dress and promises,
Have been made devoted and truer fools.
And today they know this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If 1 And 2 Were Equal
If 1 and 2 were equal
we'd have as many hearts as fists
If 1 and 2 were equal
we'd have confused shopping lists
If 1 and 2 were equal
there'd be less phone numbers to dial
If 1 and 2 were equal
noon would surely last a while
If 1 and 2 were equal
there'd be a nose under each eye
If 1 and 2 were equal
you couldn't say no to 'you and I? '
If 1 and 2 were equal
I think I'd be much more happy
'cause if 1 and 2 were equal
I would not be so lonely
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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