En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Applied Psychology for M Lady Ernestine

When I was just a little lad
sometimes I used to hate my dad.
It was his job so he taught me.
I must pay for being naughty
He took his slipper to my bum
and beat me like kettle drum.

He taught me there was a price to pay
each time I chanced to go astray.
He was determined to teach me
that I could not go scot free.
He was responsible for m
and took his duty seriously.

Unlike the spoilt brats of today
who simply go their own sweet way.
Now Dads are not allowed to tan
their backsides. So they think they can
misbehave with impunity
Upset the whole community.

Todays child care experts advise
you cannot physically chastise
For they see this as child abuse.
The experts say you cannot use.
My Das applied psychology
involving slippers bums and knees

I general I obey the law
but I believe they should restore.
A fathers right to teach his kid
In the way my father did.
I still remember easily
the lessons I learned painfully.

16-Jan-09
http: // blog myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Tough Love

Tough love

Rebecca was a horrid child.
Her antics drove her mother wild..
Child experts offered their advice
but seldom came to visit twice.

Although her mother tried her best
Rebecca outdid all the rest.
She was unpleasant rude and crude.
An anti social attitude.

She seldom did as she was told
and thought she had the right to scold.
Her mother’s efforts at control
She seemed to have no other goal.

Than making life a misery
for members of her family.
But then her grandma came to stay.
Rebecca came to rue the day.

Grandma applied psychology
Rebecca placed across her knee
She tanned her little bottom hard.
Grandma had but scant regard.

For what the experts had to say
She raised her kids in the old way.
A firm hand lovingly applied
across Rebecca’s small backside.

Quickly changed her attitude.
Because her Grandma understood.
That little girls should never be
allowed to think that they were free.

To act and speak unpleasantly
without they paid the penalty.
Rebecca very swiftly learned
she got exactly what she earned..

She soon became a paragon.
Her bad behaviour was all gone.
Which demonstrates that Grandma knew
exactly what she had to do.

To make Rebecca toe the line
applied a little discipline.
In her own old fashioned way.
It worked a treat I have to say.

She changed Rebecca’s attitude
and earned her mothers gratitude.
Old fashioned ways had proved the best
to change Rebecca from a pest.

Into a most delightful child.
Although the experts all reviled
her methods. They could not deny
they were effective.I wonder why.

Perhaps they lack experience
as well as simple common sense.
Until they’ve raised a family
I doubt if they will ever see.

That discipline lovingly applied
beats everything which they have tried.
A child must know her boundaries
She cannot do as she pleases.

I think this story serves to show.
Although the experts think they know.
Experience will always win
when teaching children discipline.

20/05/2009

http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The teen age Myth

Adolescent anxiety
never really bothered me
When I was young there were no teens
Just men and boys no in betweens.

You started work when you left school
this was accepted as the rule.
The good old days or so they say
when things were done a different way

Teen agers were not invented then.
Perhaps its time to think again
Reintroduce some discipline
to whip the youngster into line.

Ignore the experts who advise
because they lack the expertise.
In raising children of their own
experience they’ve never known.

Adolescents of today
must learn there is no easy way.
They have to work to earn respect.
I am not sure but I suspect.

That most of you agree with me
that nothing in this life is free.
It’s our responsibility
to raise our children properly.

To teach them what they need to know
and yet allow them room to grow.
Though you may think I’m prejudiced
I have the right and I insist

That children should be taught values
before they’re old enough to choose.
To obey the rules or to refuse
After all what can we lose.
28-Feb-09 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Freethinker for J.T.Ellison

Freethinker

I do believe that memory can be passed down genetically
Encoded in our D.N.A Although I know the experts say
My theory’s unsustainable, there is no proof obtainable.
For all their professed expertise. My theory causes them unease.
They are afraid I might be right. It could explain why men take fright.
When darkness falls and they can’t see, arousing repressed memories
Of long ago when men were prey which linger to the present day
Although the experts can’t explain the workings of the human brain.
The experts say it can’t be so: They know less than they think they know.
I don’t accept the experts view I see no reason I should do
I still believe that memory can be passed down genetically.
Encoded in our D.N.A. No matter what the experts say.
They cannot force me to agree for I think independently

31/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Knock.knock who's there for M 'ladyErnestine

The poltergeist, mischievous sprite
who taps and knocks to cause alarm
and can move things about by night.
A nuisance but does little harm.

It is to be found most commonly
up to his scalliwaggery.
Where one approaching puberty
creates him quite unconsciously.

He’s not a separate entity
but an extension of the mind.
Which can act independently
in some way as yet undefined.

Or so psychiatrists believe
and who can prove their words untrue
Their explanations don’t achieve
an end to what is troubling you.

A poltergeist a noisy ghost
does little harm to anyone
. His mostly unsuspecting host
often a girl sometimes a boy.

A child who quite unconsciously
expresses feelings they can’t show
with openness and honesty.
When they mature the ghost will go.

There are some things you can’t explain
no matter how hard you may try.
The experts need to think again
if they’re to solve this mystery.

But they maintain as experts do
that their opinions are correct.
Although sometimes this may be true.
Some times it is not I suspect.

For Poltergeists obey no rules
Although the experts think they do
Just self opinionated fools
who know less than they think they do.

14-Sep-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Object Lesson

Nobody cares, nobody dares.
Show sympathy to such as me.
I’m just a bum, an unwelcome
reminder that you too may com.

to know the depths of misery.
Although you do not want to see,
avert your eyes as you pass by.
You can ignore my plaintive cry.

I too was rich and would not see
that bums deserved some sympathy.
But fate stepped in and fate taught me.
Disaster can strike suddenly.

Reducing men to penury.
From great success to poverty.
Remember this it could be you
here begging for a buck or two.

Just pocket change you can well spare
Can make my life easier to bear
I’m still a man who needs to eat
although I’m living on the street.

You can pass by disdainfully
I learnt my lesson painfully
and so in time my friend could you
in the same way that I had to.

I would much rather earn my way
But fate took all I had away.
She sprang it on me by surprise
perhaps in order to chastise.

me for my inability.
To show a little charity.
to those who had much less than me
I suffered enforced bankruptcy.

I’m not the bum you choose to see.
Today you can look down on me
in the same way I chose to do.
when I was as blind as you.

14-Nov-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Pecadillo fo Friend Thad

My Guardian Angel is a prude
she has a pious attitude.
I have a little devil too
who tries to persuade me to do.
The naughty things which are more fun.
But when all is said and done
it’s up to me I have free will.
And in the end I’ll foot the bill.
If I should choose to go astray
I know there’ll be a price to pay.
But some sins are well worth the price
a small foretaste of paradise.
You know what I’m referring to.
I am quite certain that you do.

28-Apr-08
http: //blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Que Sera, Sera

Que Sera, Sera

A New Year lies ahead of us. I must admit I’m curious.
to see if experts prophecies will turn out to be theories.
Which passing time will not sustain and leave the experts to explain.
Just how and why they got it wrong I’m sure they’ll sing the same old song.
We’re only men what we express is just an educated guess.
You have to place it in context. They do not know what will come next.
No more than any other man.Although they all profess they can
interpret the faint signs they see and can predict with accuracy.
What events will come to be but get it wrong consistently
That’s why I listen cynically and mostly unbelievingly.
When experts choose to air their views, I find their words of little use.
I much prefer to wait and see: What fate decrees will come to be..

1-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

I wish you all a happy and peaceful 2009

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Dad's Lessons Passed On

He was not filthy rich
But had the depth of knowledge
That he had blessed me with
To face my trials with great courage.

Dad taught me the love for books
A quiet spirit in times of strife
All those years his lesson took
Me through the hardships of my life.

Teach a child the wealth of reading
To feed his mind, keep him from trouble
Values learned he will be using
To grow up wise and be responsible.

Dad's lessons I now try to teach
On the next in line there to impart
My children know their goals to reach
By keeping his lessons in their heart.

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I refuse to be a clone.

From birth to death it seems to me.
That we are never truly free.
To be what we would like to be.
We are expected to conform
to what’s accepted as the norm.
Dictated by society.

WE go to school where we are taught.
To memorise the things we ought.
But no one spares a single thought.
About what we would like to be.
They do not care apparently.
We can’t escape too firmly caught.

Though some of us a very few.
Rebel and we refuse to do
What the system wants us to.
But most accept the status quo.
Because they aren’t allowed to know.
That they are entitled to pursue.

Their cherished dreams in their own way
and no one has the right to say.
That they cannot but they will pay.
The price for their rebellion
against the states opinion.
But some. still do it anyway.

I’m happy to defy the state
and take control of my own fate.
Because I don’t appreciate
being told I must obey
When I can see a better way
than that dictated by the state.

Sunday,09 January 2011
http: ’’ blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Proof positive 2011

Proof positive 2011

This tree is where no tree should be.
It clings to life precariously.
From whence it cam nobody knows.
All that we know is that it grows.
Although it’s stunted gnarled and bent.
It has survived that’s evident.

Perchance it’s where it should not be.
It does not matter to the tree.
This is the only place it knows
and so it very slowly grows.
Defying rules conceived by men
It forces them to think again.

Although the experts all agree.
It’s an impossibility
The tree discounts the experts view
A seed took root and simply grew.
That’s all seeds know how to do.
Its mere existence proves it’s true.

Tuesday,27 December 2011 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Sent My Child To School Today

I sent my child to school today
With his little lunch box

When he came home he said his friend
Had gotten the chickenpox,

I sent my child to school today
And asked him what he learned

He told me about firemen
They taught him how not to get burned,

I sent my child to school today
He said, 'Do you know what they taught me? '

He told me they taught him numbers
As well as his ABC’s,

I sent my child to school today
A smile on his face

I gave him a kiss and a hug
And said, 'See ya funny face! ',

I sent my child to school today
His smile bright and wide

But an older child brought in a gun
How did he get it inside? ,

I sent my child to school today
As in every day

But the child with the gun started shooting
The reason? No one could say,

I buried my child after school today
All I can do is cry

I lost my child at school today
And nobody can tell me why.

poem by Doug Hollywood Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Gunface

Gonna go downtown
Gonna get my gun
Gonna dress real sharp
Gonna beat my drum
I ain't gonna lie

Gonna walk so slow
Gonna talk just right
And my diamond ring
Gonna shine so bright
I ain't gonna lie

I've got a debt to repay
I ain't gonna cry
I put a gun in your face
You'll pay with your life

And I got my ears
And I got my eyes
And I got my narks
And my alibis
I won't waste your time

You made one false move
You made one mistake
When the juice is squeezed
That's the way it breaks
You'll pay for your crime

Your tongue lickin' way out of place
I'll rip it out
I'll stick a gun in your face
You'll pay with your life

I taught her everything I taught her how to dream
I taught her everything
I'm gonna teach her how to scream
I taught her all she knows
I taught her how to lie
I taught her everything
I'm gonna teach her how to cry

And you cause me hurt
And you cause me pain
And you turned the tap
On my burning rage
And I can't put it out

Gonna leave no sign
Gonna leave no trace
Gonna leave this town
In a state of grace
Give me the power

I got a debt to repay
I ain't gonna lie
I put a gun in your face
You'll pay for the crime

I taught her everything
I taught her how to speak
I taught her all she knows
I taught her how to eat
I half invented her
And now she acts so chic
I taught her everything
But now she's obselete

I taught her everything
How to read and write
I taught her all she knows
She was a neophyte
I taught her everything
I loved to watch her grow
I taught her everything
And now I want to see her go

I taught her everything
I got a debt to repay
I ain't gonna cry
I'll put a gun in your face
You're playing with your life

I taught her everything
I taught her how to cheat
I taught her all she knows
She was so indiscreet
I taught her everything
I taught her how to lie
I taught her everything
I'm gonna teach her how to cry

song performed by by Rolling Stones from Bridges To Babylon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Wondering for M 'lady Tara

.

Today I saw a winsome Nun.
A negative in black and white.
I wondered if she had begun
to question if her choice was right.
And was she really positive
a life of prayer would satisfy
When she had so much more to give,
given the opportunity
Had her choice been freely made?
Or was she merely dutiful?
Had she been promised as a child?
It’s not at all unusual
to be denied the right to choose.
A subtle form of child abuse.

19-May-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Let a child smile

Let a child blissfully grow,
Don’t try and obstruct his natural flow.
Let a child sleep,
Don’t try and break his dreams.
Let a child run,
Don’t try and smack his ear-drum.
Let a child confidently walk,
Don’t try and lure him with your talk.
Let a child create,
Don’t try and teach him to hate.
Let a child be innocent,
Don’t try and show him the art of disguise.
Let a child be naughty,
Don’t try and instruct him to be haughty.
Let a child play,
Don’t try and intentionally spoil his day.
Let a child make mistakes,
Don’t try and show him the stick.
Let a child roam in Sunlight,
Don’t try and hide him from the bright.
Let a child express his thoughts,
Don’t try and be a mental block.
And let a child prosper and SMILE,
Don’t try and expose him to worldly guiles.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Faith the Facts

Search out all things of good report.
Consider each one carefully,
things are not always as you thought.
As you will find most probably.

What you were taught to be the truth
is very often far from true.
Lessons taught you in your youth
by those you thought knew more than you.

As you mature you learn to see.
They taught you their own biased view
Which you examine critically
And then discard most as untrue.

Your old beliefs grow obsolete.
Examine all the evidence
New facts emerge though incomplete,
you then accept what makes most sense.

What you were taught no longer true.
You can’t rely on faith alone.
Although the clergy urge you to
Because too much remains unknown

Wednesday,25 November 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

This crazy country

I’m in this crazy country
If I could leave I would go tomorrow never to return
Oh Allah how can I go
From this crazy country
When I do what I do for the sake of Allah
My 1st Daughter
The strong & the brave
She was physically & emotionally abused
Some years ago
Taken from me brought up by another
No one knows why
But
Daughter no.2
She was allowed to stay
To be abused
Physically, emotionally & attempted sexually
With emotional problems
No fear of danger
Her father still free
To abuse another
1son & twin daughters the pain still goes on
He is still free
As free as can be
Daughter no 2 went to a special school
She learned to survive
Not wanting to become a woman
She was ready to come home
Her room was made nice
The sisters helped to decorate
Ready for her return
You made new friends
In your white community
They told you that you are British
Me myself I’m not proud to be half British
I’m ashamed you see at what they do to my family
I am a Muslim from Islam
That’s what maters to me
What happened to what I taught you to believe.
You come from a multi-cultural family
You decided to stay
Not come home how can this be
My child needs her mom
I’m told the law gives her the right to choose in this country
So you god fearing mom’s beware when your child goes to school
In this crazy country
As children suffer & even die
There parents free
Free as can be
Then there is my son child no.3
Taken from me
He is with his father you see
In this crazy country
My son runs to be with me
Now he needs therapy
Just for wanting me
I am a God fearing mom doing all I can for my family
In this crazy country
As I see with my eyes
Hear with my ears
What you do to my Brothers & Sisters in this country
I want to leave & go some place where I can be free
As free as can be
To give my all to people who need me
Oh Allah how can I leave this crazy country
When I do what I do for the sake of Allah
To be there for my family
People try to bring me down for I’m a God fearing mom
Before I go
Leave this crazy country
Remember this
You might be free as free as can be
In this crazy country
But when judgment day comes
Who will be free
As free as can be
Will it be you
Or will it be me?

poem by mariam khan Farah Abdulahi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hookey Rookie

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

I asked myself if that did...benefit?
What I did.
And who was with me.
Nothing that was done then was a fit.
No one would give.
And being played in the streets today...
Some say ain't easy!
I left it done and behind me, to forget.

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

Yes...
And you can teach me.
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

Just for nookie.
I played hookey!
Just a rookie,
Gettin' nookie!
Missing you...
My Cookie!

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in timebefore.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

Just for nookie.
I played hookey!
Just a rookie.
Gettin' nookie!

Just a rookie.
Gettin' nookie!
A hookey rookie getting nookie,
Missing Cookie

Just rookie getting nookie,
Missing Cookie

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To Nurture An Insight

He learned to walk in his baby shoes.
And taught not to touch things
Easily reached
Yet laying teasing him to abuse.
Manipulating with eyes
Only a child often can use...
Slick and mixed from a bag of tricks,
He pulls each to see who becomes fooled.

Quick with lessons taught...
In new shoes he now has bought,
Armed with charm and mannerisms maintained...
A little boy no more he is,
Free now to select his own aches and pains!

To achieve aims and a wealth of assorted gains.
Games he can play...
If he chooses to go that way!
That depends on strengths encouraged,
And who followed through to nurture
An insight that can flourish!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Want To Say Thanks For My Mother

I want to say Thanks for my Mother,

To me she taught how to Love one another;

With only one hand, to do the work she had to do,

But; she worked as if it was more hands than two.

She took us each Sunday to church and Sunday school,

And really cared to teach us children, the golden Rule;

That we need to Love God, and obey and Trust Him too,

Yes, if only she were here right now, I'd say to her thankyou.

My Mother taught us girls to learn, how to be truthful, also,

And how to read and also to Pray, and to others love to show;

She also taught us how to cook, to sew and knit as well,

These things is a lot for one hand lady, is what I can tell.

She was a foster Mother to many a child and baby, it's true,

Some with health problems, and that couldn't say thankyou;

Some had other difficulties, some were very bad as well,

But Mum certainly showed she loved them, oh yes! We could tell.

So Mum if you could have been here today, and read this now,

It tells you thanks for everything, I love you any how;

Sometimes we were naughty, played up when you were tired too,

So! Mum, I'm sorry for those times, and Mum I say Thankyou.

poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!