Behind The Scenes
It never ceases to amaze me,
How those behind the scenes...
Continue to play their infantile games,
To create rivalries they wish to perceive.
And the only thing they do achieve,
Is to leave themselves looking stupid.
And unaware of what is and what isn't,
Kept significant...
In the minds of those who have accepted,
Maturity as a way to live their adult lives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When A Maturity Much Needed Is Sought And Begins
All foolishness started between us will end,
When a maturity much needed is sought and begins.
Those games chosen to play,
To protect insecurities...
Needing to be chased away,
Are nothing more than childish pranks.
Overdue for a ridding...
Instead of pursuing them to please,
A mental dysfunction to outdo and out rank.
I've lost all attraction to play games like that.
I will return your calls.
But a tolerance of a nonsense initiated,
I no longer accept at all.
What point is made,
By a charading done to masquerade?
And in these days we live call for a seriousness.
With my desire to continue on like this...
Leaving you behind with the times I will not miss.
All foolishness started between us will end,
When a maturity much needed is sought and begins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never Accepted What Their Eyes Have Shown
Something in their heads,
Have them programmed to believe...
They should not respect themselves.
Or expect they can and could achieve.
Something missing in their heads,
Should have connected them to a maturity.
Something that recognized,
Who should be responsible...
And accountable for their activities.
Something in their minds,
Should have made eye contact with themselves.
Something said or they did not see...
A reflection of themselves yet!
One accepted and believed.
Something has left.
And will never return.
Something that should have been taught.
But for them,
Never to be learned!
And that is why they hide from themselves.
They dislike and despise what they see!
And they have never accepted,
What their eyes have shown!
They are afraid to be who they are.
Even alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be a child-parent-adult
To the child, it is a day.
To the parent, it is a night.
To the adult both are inclusive.
The child lives in fantasy.
The parent lives in fallacy.
It is the adult that lives,
Where he is put, in ecstasy.
The child admires things.
The parent criticizes them.
The adult realizes them.
The child appreciates.
The parent deprecates.
The adult rationalizes.
The poet is the child in man.
The priest is the parent in man.
The logician is the adult in man.
Live a child to be youthful.
Live a parent to be awesome.
Live an adult to be credible.
27.01.2000, Kottayam
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It Never Ceases
It never ceases to amaze me,
How those who have freshly awakened...
To live their own lives after chasing rainbows,
Assume others are wasting theirs away...
By always having made those choices done,
To do what they like in spite of opposition,
By those arriving feeling freed of conflicting dispositions.
And after years spent in explorations others did not do,
There are those living lives to do it in peace and quietly...
In preferences chosen away from everyone's doings.
To be out of public sight day and night,
Doing those things chosen to do that is wished.
Because of a life it took time to find and like once dismissed,
Without the pressure of feeling to be accepted and quizzed.
I am older and wiser and much more peaceful.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Games People Play
(lead vocal - lenny zakatek)
Where do we go from here now that all other children are growin up
And how do we spend our lives if theres noone to lend us a hand
I dont wanna live here no more, I dont wanna stay
Aint gonna spend the rest of my life, quietly fading away
Games people play, you take it or you leave it
Things that they say, honor brite
If I promise you the moon and the stars, would you believe it
Games people play in the middle of the night
Where do we go from here now that all of the children have grown up
And how do we spend our lives knowin nobody gives us a damn
I dont wanna live here no more, I dont wanna stay
Aint gonna spend the rest of my life, quietly fading away
Games people play, you take it or you leave it
Things that they say, just dont make it right
If Im telling you the truth right now, do you believe it
Games people play in the middle of the night
Games people play, you take it or you leave it
Things that they say, honor brite
If I promise you the moon and the stars, would you believe it
Games people play in the middle of the night
Games people play, you take it or you leave it
Things that they say, just dont make it right
If Im telling you the truth right now, do you believe it
Games people play in the middle of the night
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Arrogance of Humanity.
Never ceases to amaze me.
The arrogance of people.
Listening to a woman speak
How important it is to
Bleat on about
Drinking whiskey neat.
The arrogance goes on unabated.
Drink loosens jowels but nothing
Fresh is stated.
Never ceases to amaze me.
The self importance of the ego.
Its lust for power is never satiated.
The life and times of the 'I', 'I', 'I'!
poem by Peter Vealey
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Baby vs Adult
Baby is dumb
Adult has wisdom
Babies are small and crawl
Adults are tall and fall
Baby demands
Adult commands
Baby yearns to walk
Adult learns to work
Baby weeps
Adult sleeps
You carry a baby
You marry an adult
Baby chokes
Adult smokes
Baby stays at home to play
Adult brings home the pay
Baby cries
Adult sighs
Baby spikes milk
Adults like silk
And I saved this for the last
Baby at birth
Adult at death
Baby vs Adult becomes a thing of the past
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Existing to Feed the Greed of Thieves
If the eyes of today,
Aren't opened as wide...
As the hole one feels in saddened hearts,
Or emptying pockets
Stripped
Of everything other than one's balled fists.
Those unaware...
And can not feel this,
Are either hopelessly smug.
Or drugged on crack!
People like these are addicted to being deceived.
And do not need to become awakened from their beliefs.
Leave them to be left...
Experiencing a slow painful death enjoyed!
Only a twisted mind will become annoyed,
If attempts are tried!
They are in denial!
They have accepted their lives have been lived well.
And all this time they are doing just fine!
With minds existing...
To feed the greed of thieves.
Choosing to perceive them,
As the ones who have been 'chosen'...
To lead them to abundance and victory!
And absolutely nothing anyone says,
Will close that hole in their hearts.
Or mend that space in their heads!
They are already...
Among the walking dead!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Becoming More Difficult To Achieve
When an immature mentality,
Becomes an accepted part of one's personality...
It stunts a growth process,
Observed in an environment...
Fed on the advantages of being irresponsible.
Where childish attitudes are fed and meant,
To circumvent adult behavior.
A behavior once accepted to respect,
But...
Becoming more difficult to achieve,
With not too many today willing to experience...
The affects of expressing a maturity,
From that point of view!
And 'who' but a few today...
Would admit to being 'that' accountable for their actions.
There is a difference in the doing of things,
Interpreted by others to be foolish.
And to know what is done.
Than to do childish things...
And have few notice,
That the age of the 'childish' doer...
Has no comprehension to mention.
And the fault is found to lay on the back,
Of one who 'portrays' to be a fool...
To fit into such a dysfunctional environment.
To be laughed at but has achieved...
Peace of mind others can't seem to find as accessible.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Evil Woman
I've seen a look of evil in your eyes
You've been filling me all full of lies
Sorrow will not change your shameful deeds
Do well best, someone else has better seen
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Now I know just what you're looking for
You want me to claim that child you bore
Well you know that it must he not be
And you know the way it got to be
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Wickedness lies in your moisten lips
Your body moves just like the crack of a whip
Blackness sleeps on top of your stray bed
Do you whish that you could see me dead
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I've Heard
I've heard the things you say.
Behind my back the games you play.
To my face the sweetest gaze.
When I'm gone a slanderess attack.
You think me stupid,
crazy and ugly too.
Laughing at me till your face is blue.
You make fun of the way I look at you.
Saying I'm awesomely creepy too.
It's just love I tried to share with you.
Obviously I'm a retarded fool.
When I ask you of these things you've said.
In angers rush you turn bright red.
Telling me what you really meant.
How I misunderstand in discontent.
Deep inside I see your lies.
Instead though I'll just play my bit.
Of the stupid fool who's messed it up.
I'm tired of drinking from this cup.
You did it before.
You did it again.
I'll just remain here in this jam.
I'll continue on through this trash,
because I'm lonley and I need a freind like grip.
poem by Michael McParland
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Played On
People of a certain mentality,
Have a commonness with each other...
And they play games.
The more they believe they are in demand,
They do this...
And the game remains the same.
They make promises they never keep.
They wish to make others wait...
While they deceive another,
Who is not aware they cheat.
And doing this preserving an innocence believed.
As they juggle several relationships,
Until their spouses find this out...
And from them they leave!
People of a certain mentality,
Have a commonness with each other...
And they play games.
Stupid ones!
But they don't know they are played on them,
Everyday!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Expect An Apology
I have not been a child for so long.
So if my offensive demeanor,
Comes from an adult mind...
Free to express itself from a hiding,
You have yet dealt with.
Don't be stunned.
Or run away in tears!
With a nose you sniff.
Perhaps you should leave the playground,
Of scraped knees, sandboxes
And petty childish gossip.
I have not been a child for so long.
My adventures have been aged on paths...
That have shown me a life,
To live as it is!
And to find myself alone,
Being accountable for my steps!
Sometimes I have experienced regret.
But like all things I have accepted...
I am blessed not to stay in one spot,
To complain of rain that got me wet!
Nor do I get upset...
If thunder, lightening and clouds,
Are temporarily above my head!
I have felt sunshine too many times...
To find a moment of whining as a means,
That have ever attracted my happiness!
A maturity with learning,
Has come to me it seems!
So if my offensive demeanor,
Comes from an adult mind...
Free to express itself from a hiding,
You have yet dealt with?
Don't expect an apology.
I only give those when they are meant!
And I feel that one should be given.
And 'that' no one else gives to me,
To determine!
I'm in this life to live it!
Not to split from it...
When my feelings are hurt!
Or to dig up dirt to spread.
Don't expect an apology!
You 'aint' gettin' one of those.
Not from me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Given to Entertaining
The novelty of the differentness has worn off.
Folks want to know,
What aspect of their lives will show significant gains,
That will reflect and be known!
Too much attention has been given to entertaining.
Racists quips from lipstick lips,
Will not solve the urgency...
That slips from the grip of those holding onto a seriousness.
Images that depict change with only more of the same remaining...
Squeezes patience from the minds of those,
Have chosen to collect their peace.
And leave behind those who have taken time,
To get wound up in such foolish scuttlebutt.
The issues are as clear as recently cleaned glass.
For those pretending not to see their demise,
Can only observe what is being done to the middle class.
Just open your eyes.
They are the ones being exhausted and drained!
While deceiving politicians say what folks want to hear.
Filling their pockets by telling lies,
And play the 'F. U.' games everyone endears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sees With A Desire Sought
Like my father.
And his father before him...
I was the eldest.
And made quick to grow.
With a teaching of life early.
And many times angry,
I had to let my childhood go.
Used to set examples.
And enforced to do chores I had to do...
Did not sit well with me at all,
As I saw other children playing games...
With a loving to do it too!
But as I grew older with skills I had been taught,
I still observe those 'children'...
Playing the same games with those teachings.
The very same games they have handed to their children...
With beliefs a maturity comes to one automatically.
Yet...
One does not achieve the meaning of responsibility,
Unless there is an influence one sees with a desire sought.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Depends On The Situation
In the playing of games,
There are those who are less experienced...
Decide without advice taken,
To play them indiscriminately.
Without thought of who the opponent may be.
Or if the one chosen to be exposed to playing,
Has not in fact...
Elected to do so to prevent total boredom,
To hop and take a ride on one's back...
In the playing of games.
And then,
In the playing of games...
It depends on the situation.
The environment is important as well.
However...
If the playing of the same games,
Gets too familiar...
It becomes very difficult to play them,
With the same exuberance...
As those enjoying to play them repetitiously,
Throughout their lives!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stupid
So sad to hear that you dont want to hang around with me
So lame to see you leave and to know that you believe that its over
Cause when your weak I feel the need to get underneith your skin
And when you start to tweak I find a way to get up beside you
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
In time youll learn to love me as much as you love yourself
Oh in time youll learn to hate me
Cause when I feel the need to have you back by my side
I am sweet it makes me sick to know that I can be so blind
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
song performed by by Oleander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without a Cycle Rinse
So addicted they are to playing childish games.
They believe their afflictions...
Are widespread.
And others who live have the same goals and aims.
With nothing more to live for...
But to play cat and mouse,
To entrap themselves.
They can not envision this as a poisoning done inside.
Their heads have been programmed to endorse denial.
And they teach these games without a cycle rinse.
Convinced they are above a rebirth of a cleansing.
They struggle to keep themselves dense...
In times reminisced when they did foolishness.
And make attempts to keep these cycles repreated.
And in these times...
What they present from stunted minds,
Does not wash with a preset that advances.
But leave behind in a grime undefined...
And confined!
That entwines to squeeze and keep them bundled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Play is an essential function of the passage from immaturity to emotional maturity. Any individual without the opportunities for adequate play in early life will go on seeking them in the stuff of adult life.
quote by Margaret Lowenfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Play the Games
In a special place, in peace they met, they met again.
Far, far from the curse of violence, a place of peace.
Cultivated to propagate comraderie,
Through peaceful competition, garnering good will.
They came to play, from all places, to play the games.
With outstretched hand, they met,
broad warm, warm open smiles.
Renewing memories, they embraced,
light hearts, of past fond rapport.
Renewed friendships, and welcoming new friends.
Shadows of animosity, none to be found.
For the games it was, they came to play.
In contention peaceful, winter, summer,
they would play the games.
In these games, races to be run.
Feats of strength and skill performed.
Team and individual challenges.
Competition always fierce, without question.
Still winners all, losers not accepted.
With heart ‘n’ soul, all would compete.
Yet competition, ever friendly, always fair.
Without malice, losses accepted, but with grin.
Mutual admiration competitors shared.
The dedication required to attain excellence, all aware.
For all must fall, before they excelled.
Winners, runner’s up, last to complete the task.
To all, applause awarded.
With mixed emotion the norm, awards accepted.
Pride, humility, honor, apparent in all.
Respect for homelands represented, manifest,
whenever, they played the games.
Came the day, the games ceased.
Judgments rendered, awards all claimed.
Time at last to tread the homeward path.
Fond farewells, smiles ‘n’ tears mixed.
‘Til to play the games, they meet once more.
20Feb10
poem by Kurt Hearth
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