En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Mime May Mimic

A mime may mimic in a manner to entertain.
To connect the reason for a rhyme to make clear.
But one who impersonates to charade,
Does not intend to flatter another with praise.
Not when a stealing from one done,
To gain attention is meant.
With a masquerading of a deception to perfection,
To influence those transfixed by it.
Who 'assume' they witness originality presented.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Want to Gain...What?

You want to gain...
What?
Fame, fortune and wealth?
To feel you are above everyone else?
To deal them with teases...
Just to please yourself?

You want to gain...
What?
Attention you insist belongs to you?
To set pretensions upon their point of view.
What does this 'really' do for you?
Would this erase your insecurities...
And those obscenities that you spew?

You want to gain...
What?
A dignity and pride...
With 'things' and objects,
You believe holds a head high.
Or eyes on you!
To be awed by a fake persona.
And left transfixed...
By your masquerading of it!

You clearly feel an emptiness.
And this you keep inside.
Nothing you choose to express to impress...
Will ever address what you deny!
And an identity unknown...
Seems to leave you depressed,
With regrets.
This is shown!

And moving forward beyond this...
With determined steps,
Will not gain you what you wish.
If you are too afraid...
To expose and admit,
Mistakes you've made!

But you insist...
None are there to fix.

You want to gain...
What?
A way to disguise your blemishes,
There and appearing.
Or a way to escape from your flaws?
No one finds endearing.

Which of these do you believe can not be seen?

You want to gain...
What?
Another life?
One you don't find,
So disgusting?
To live one that is lived perfectly right!
One you wished you had lived less distrusting.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is A Reason And Rhyme That Connects

No one should assume,
They know someone so well...
As to take their expression of concern,
For granted.
Or believe they have stopped doing it,
Because that person is in an attitude...
And has exclusively to them shown this.
For no apparent reason.
And they have expressed this 'moodiness',
Before in the past to them.

If someone is taken for granted like that,
With beliefs that have not been validated.
But has been treated indifferently as time progresses,
By those with unfounded beliefs they hold onto...
They can also assume,
That a concern once expressed...
Will not again be addressed,
By someone who has stopped caring...
Less,
What it is that they believe.

Eventually those assumptions held in their minds,
Will connect to find...
Someone that has been dismissed,
To them has been genuine.
There is a reason and rhyme that connects,
To everything with time given it that takes place.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Images Presented

The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.

Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!

Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!

Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.

Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.

Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.

Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rhetorical

I would like to know
What is a wife?
What is a companion?
What is a friend?

I do not know
What a husband is.
I do know
What I am

I have some understanding
Concerning a companion

In either situation
Concern for the other...
A cascade never ending.
On one/another we are depending

Equilibrium is always first.
Love means nothing
Without consideration

Neither is friendship.
Something even when you are hurting
A grave sacrifice...
Forbearance is a required act.

Exploring outside of you
Without sealing off the rest of you...
In a true relationship there is no boss

Passing the cup to the one capable
Unite that decision...
No defense needed.

Not to make a pledge
But a certain maturing from the ledge
Perfection can always be...considered.

Love has many levels
A wife has many levels
A friend has many levels...
A mask has no levels,

Trickology is what it is...
Deception no matter what level,
It is deception.

No good can come from it
No matter what it's true is.

I am in battle with myself
A battle I intend to win...
Once I understand

A comparison now and again
A place or time now and again
I would like to know;

Is that a reason to grow
I understand friendship?
But who am I any/way?

Am I friend or foe?

poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Has Been Done Successfully

If all that he does,
Is just mimic my steps.
And whines pathetically,
In a manner to get attention...
With a bit of empathy.
He succeeds,
With this procedure.

What has been done successfully,
Is his ability to prove,
A need...
From an inexperienced heart.
And innovation with originality...
Has not begun to play a major part,
In his dependent personality.

He currently suffers from issues,
With a wish to impress.
And not yet ready to lift his head,
From a soft welcoming breast.
That patronizes his insecurities.
As he sucks his thumb!
While revelling in a protection,
He temporarily has won!

And my steps laid,
Required some bravery witnessed...
In the midst of everyone.
Without benefit,
Of applause or encouragement.
And this is what he believes,
Feeds success and not its quality.
Or the bleeding done,
He does not see!
Hidden from eyes to do privately.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Charade

The ivory glow of the house lights dim
then come alive again.
A signal to the audience
their journey is about to begin.

The lights go down darkness prevails.
Subdued idle conversation ceases.
The anticipative silence broken
only by a muffled unintentional cough.

Closed ornate curtains shield the stage.
Concealing from the spectators
all clues to upcoming events.
A calculated pause focuses their attention.

As though on their own the curtains part.
Revealing the setting designed to weave
spectators from the humdrum of reality.
Into the mystical world of make believe.

The cast in the order of their appearance
ply well their skills rousing all’s imagination.
So well they seem to have become the roles they play.
Masters of deception they truly are.

Tempting drawing and holding the audience
in the web of the masquerade.
To fool and entertain them
will be the successful completion of the charade.

(17JUN95)

poem by Kurt Hearth
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Debilitating Limits Of Applied Suppression

Silly are the myths kept.
With all that is being revealed...
About truth.
And the deception...
To diminish the use of it.

Since this might stir a reason...
That pauses to connect 'cause',
Blinded by neglect that effects...
The advancement of a kept ignorance.

And having an absence of reality...
One is never introduced,
To witness its productive use.
And if a meeting should take place...
An enticement to express more respect,
That affects others would be accepted.

However...
One's mental growth that isn't controlled,
May become unleashed...
If truth should be released.
To benefit those freed...
From the debilitating limits of applied suppression,
Not even those oppressing it can look forward to escape.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Self Praise Stages

When people are in their self praise stages...
They should be given the attention.
Today...
Very few people have hobbies,
Or interests that makes them feel proud.

When people are in their self praise stages...
They should be given the attention.
There is something about people like this,
Others would say are egotistical.
I find them to be inspirational.

So many of the others are caught up,
In backstabbings, defamation of character...
And deep they are in self deception.
So whenever I am around those,
Who are in their self praise stages...
I am amazed they are not professing a self hate.
Or in the reception of doubts and complaints.

However...
Those on stages self praising themselves,
Is a different perspective.
These folks don't have time to be introspective.
Self praising from stages most get paid to do.
This can be compared to individuals,
Who have been 'called' to administer...
A self righteousness affixed to wholesome boredom.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is A Needed Reason

There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason to keep your attention involved.
There is a needed reason!
A needed reason.

There is a...
Needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason to keep your attention involved.
There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason.
A needed reason.

If your mind is not here,
It may be focused somewhere else.
If your mind is not on fear...
It poses threats,
To those...
Who want it for themselves.

And if its too clear...
Fear will disappear!

There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason.
A needed reason.

If your mind is not here,
It may be focused somewhere else.
If your mind is not on fear...
It poses threats,
To those...
Who want it for themselves.

And if its too clear...
Fear will disappear!

There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
There is a needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason to keep your attention involved.
A needed reason.
A needed reason.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transformation

Come with me, I'll take you now
To a place that you fear
For no reason why
Your heart has turned away from me
And I will make you understand
Everything will become clear to you
When you see things through
another's eyes
Everything will become clear to you
Whatever's meant for you, you will find
Come with me, I'll take you there
To a place where you'll see
Everything you need to be the one
you need to be
And all of those things that you feared
Will disappear from you in time
Everything will become clear to you
When you see things through
another's eyes
Everything will become clear to you
Whatever's meant for you, you will find

song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mimic

A mimic is like a parrot
and likes to repeat words.
They will take words or a phrase
that you have spoken once
and make it sound like
that is all you can say.
A suggestion of a quick snack
is then used for every meal
that you want to have.
“Oh, I thought you wanted…”
and so it goes on and on.
In the end, you make it clear
you have your own mind
and hope that will sink in.
However, you know it won’t
and the mimic starts all over again.

26 September 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Premeditated And Done To Do

People are most impressed,
By that which is visible.
Material and physical.
Since whatever it is,
Will have a guarantee of being addressed.
With a getting of much attention.
As meant and intended.

Although it is that which is invisible...
And directed from behind the scenes,
That influences with great visibility.
With a selling of that which is proposed,
Without a sight of 'who' or what that is...
Having a need or desire to be seen.
To be bombarded by questions of authority.
Or debated as to what is created to take shape,
To effect anticipated expectations.

Since whatever it is to be presented,
Will have a guarantee of being addressed.
With a getting of much attention.
And...
With a reaction already determined,
By a decision premeditated and done to do...
With a doing made to make to implement.

Those who go ignored,
Are seldom struggling with boredom.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Never Told Me She Was A Mime

When we first met she seemed perfectly normal
I never dreamed shed make my life so hard
You see, my baby, she started to change
Started lookin kinda strange
Wearin all that white makeup and those black leotards
Well, I guess she kept her little secret pretty well
Now, ever since I learned the horrible truth, you know my life has been a living hell
Thats right, you see...
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the time
She never told me, she never told me whe was a...
Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-mime
I wish we both could just talk it all over
But my baby wont even make a sound
Now she makes everybody sick
Doin that pantomime shtick
Even our old friends have stopped coming around
Well, mmy parents cant stand her and our neighbors hate her guts
Shes really, really embarrassing me... this silent treatments driving me nuts
You see...
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Now shes actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the time... what a crime
She never told me (she never told me) she never told me she was a mime
She walks against the wind everywhere we go
Stops at every corner, gotta put on a show
Carries round a picture of marcel marceau
Always the wuiet type, but how was I know to know?
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the ti-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yime
She never told me, she never told me whe was a mime

song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Façade

Success had meant for many,
The acquiring of things.
And a dress to impress façade.
To gain attention and enhance,
A presence others would give approval...
And meaning.

But today a substance is more in demand.
A quality that expresses a genuine-ness...
Is a preference wished on fading deceiving scenes.

A success that impresses is slowly detected.
Folks today are seeking basic ways to live.
Finding themselves to be happier...
In participating in donating their deeds.
When that is done they quietly leave,
Without a need to make pronouncements.

Success had meant for many,
The acquiring of things.
And a dress to impress façade.
To gain attention and enhance,
A presence others would give approval...
And meaning.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intention

Important intention
Intention important.
I intend to work for you
You banyan tree intend to
Provide shade.
Everybody here get
Tranguility peace perfection.

Intention important
Important intention.
I relinguish all
All fruits all hopes
All desires
And intend to remain
With you all day long.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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In a Manner of Speaking

In a manner of speaking, I want to kill you,
said the drunk redneck to his wife,
In a manner of speaking, I don't love you,
said my ex (turned vegan) to me,
as I returned from a psych ward, hoping for
some sort of reconciliation,
And in a manner of speaking, the whole
world has gone to shit, that no mentally
unbalanced poet can improve upon,
In a manner of speaking, I was just a haiku
before I birthed an epic poem in 2008
and it went something like:
In a manner of speaking…

In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
beer and loose women,
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
internet journals with useless information,
In a manner of speaking, there are plenty of
assholes writing about getting laid and anal sex
on MySpace,
In a manner of speaking, my friend got raped
a few years ago and now has occasional herpes
outbreaks, which are quite disturbing
to her husband,
In a manner of speaking, I'm losing faith in humanity
and love at times,
In a manner of speaking, we just go through the motions,
hoping for something to change or something
spectacular to happen.

But I don't really know any more,
trying to make sense of it all, screaming for some sort of
sanity that eludes me,
In a manner of speaking, I feel alone here,
unable to connect to what's around me-
I just told some guy at a bar that I was a Dallas Cowboys
fan and I don't even watch football,
and he told me to come in my 'gear' on Sunday,
In a manner of speaking, I feel somewhat liberated
because I have no clue as to what I'm doing,
knowing that there is really no escape.

January 8,2008
-Alexander Shaumyan

poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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If In The Acquisition Made

What benefit is there to things,
If in the acquisition made...
Not one touch from them they bring.
Or a pair of eyes caught,
Making a passing glance.

What benefit is there to flaunt,
That which one has...
Believed others want.
Although dauntless in appearance,
Is the the one who flaunts unnoticed.

And if one has tired of a charade,
Where does one go...
To validate satisfaction done,
From a masquerading others shun.
Although impeccably dressed to impress.

What benefit is there to things,
If in the acquisition made...
Not one touch from them they bring.
And no caring is there to share,
Romanced to be enhanced from anyone anywhere.

What benefit is there?
When the expense of getting attention,
Doesn't make sense without a dividend to please.
Or noticed received by someone teased.
Or at least pretending to be caught up in the moment.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mute Witness

Your poor witness
Crying so loudly on the floor
Oh, well, shes only trying to tell you
What it was that she saw
She is only trying to tell you
What it was that she saw
Now see her standing on the table
With her small arms flailing
And you feel such compassion
In your soul for
Your mute witness
Still testing the strength
Of our patience
Oh, well shes only trying to tell you
What it was that she saw
She is only trying to tell you
What it was that she saw
Now see her pointing to the frisbee
With a memory so fuzzy
And her silent words
Describing the sight of last night
4 a.m. northside, clapham common
Oh, god, what was she doing there ?
Will she sketch the answer later ?
Well, I will ask her
Now dry your tears, my dear
Now see her mime in time so nicely
It would all have been so clear
If only she had never volunteered
Your taxi is here, my dear
La, la, la-la...

song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Don't Believe

You don't believe -- I won't attempt to make ye:
You are asleep -- I won't attempt to wake ye.
Sleep on! sleep on! while in your pleasant dreams
Of Reason you may drink of Life's clear streams.
Reason and Newton, they are quite two things;
For so the swallow and the sparrow sings.

Reason says `Miracle': Newton says `Doubt.'
Aye! that's the way to make all Nature out.
`Doubt, doubt, and don't believe without experiment':
That is the very thing that Jesus meant,
When He said `Only believe! believe and try!
Try, try, and never mind the reason why!'

poem by William Blake
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Without Exception

You wanna get close,
So you can set me up?
Well don't do it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.

You wanna pretend,
We're friends until the very end...
Well don't don't it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.

You see...
My eyes are open so wide,
They can see...
A deception!
Without exception.

And...
I am not that blind,
Not to see you from behind...
With a deception!
You're no exception.

You wanna play games,
To entertain then frame...
Well,
Don't do it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.

You see...
My eyes are open so wide,
They can see...
A deception!
Without exception.

And...
I am not that blind,
Not to see you from behind...
With a deception!
You are no exception,
To accept.

You wanna get close,
So you can set me up?
Well don't do it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.
There's nothing to prove.

You wanna pretend,
We're friends until the very end...
Well don't don't it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.

You see...
My eyes are open so wide,
They can see...
A deception!
Without exception.

My eyes can see,
A deception!
Without exception.

My eyes can see,
A deception!
Without exception.

Listen to me.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
There's no exception.

Listen to me.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
There's no exception.

My eyes can see,
A deception!
Without exception.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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