How Bad Do You Want This?
How bad do you want this?
And are you willing to sacrifice,
Any and every benefit wished?
How bad do you want this?
And are you willing to sit,
Overwhelmed by critics...
Picking you apart as if you don't exist?
Just how bad do you want this?
Suppose it was revealed behind the scenes,
Sweat streams from those working?
With relentless hours were spent,
Redoing that which was done.
And with no guarantee an attention comes.
Suppose it was revealed behind the scenes,
Abuse is common for everyone.
Would you still be wanting with desire for it?
Just how bad do you want this?
Are you willing to sit through trials and tribulations?
Referred to being considered a misfit...
Stripped and bared?
Would you care?
How bad do you want this?
And are you willing to sit,
Overwhelmed by critics...
Picking you apart as if you don't exist?
Are you willing to crawl,
Until your hands from blisters split?
Then you are more than deserving...
To settle for no more or less than the best.
If what you wish is wanted that bad,
It can be tasted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Too Much Has Been Revealed
A renewal of beliefs to review to meet,
Ingredients now fed to eat is much needed.
An obscruity of that which had been valued,
Blocks steps on paved roads now used today.
Updating of standards is more specific than wished.
Too much has been revealed.
Too much has been revealed.
What was 'then' thought and taught as reality,
Has come to cast shadows on that which had existed.
Too much has been revealed.
Overwhelmed are those attempting to restrict themselves,
To lives lived in limitations.
Too much has been revealed.
A transformation is in progress.
And will not cease by those wishing with ease...
To have it swept away in defeat to critique it with ratings.
To place its significance with a label that stays.
Too much...
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Has Been Revealed
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with eyes tightly closed...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with an upturned nose...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with pretensions,
Left to charade.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with the cool-aid made...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with debates...
Created for more time to waste.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even those who protest,
Unaccepting with wishes to reject!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even the message,
And the messenger to detest!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Critics?
Critics?
They do what they do best...
Undress those who create.
It is easier for them to probe,
Than appreciate.
It is a frustration of sorts,
To be boxed within boundaries.
Not knowing or understanding...
What the force behind creativity means,
Or where it begins...
With perceptions taught and conceived.
They have an awareness of it.
Or so some believe.
Although a conformity upon them visits.
But to comprehend what it is...
And why some have it and they don't,
Really makes them pissed.
Although an 'intelligence'
Once applied can hide this.
Is that why they delight in being critics?
As creators sweat to expand their wits,
Critics enjoy deploying...
A complete misunderstanding of it!
As they assist others like themselves...
Attempting to expand minds of limited demands.
Hoping this attachment,
Delivers to them someone's attention span.
And they get it!
That is why there is so many critics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Underwhelmed
Keep expecting so much
Seeing little in return
Desperate for the deeper moments
Begin to see them slowly burning down
I see them slowly burning down
Needing meaning in this
Heavy day I seem to bear
Everything comes into question
Lessons learned just seem to tear apart
They seem to tear apart
And I am underwhelmed again
Wanting more than you are giving
Underwhelmed again
Is there more that I am seeing
You promised me so much when
We began to walk this way
You said we'd change the world together
But now it seems we're nowhere further on
It seems we're nowhere further on
There must be more
Much more than this
Please show me more
At the lowest low now
Thinking I should can it all
Needing breakthrough from the nothing
But remembering the call
Where it really started
Hearing fresh your voice again
Something calling me to press on
Seeing you again
I'm bowing down
I'm bowing down
And I am overwhelmed again
I hear your voice still calling for me
Overwhelmed again
Remembering all you've made for me
Overwhelmed again
Not deserving all you're giving
Overwhelmed again
Another chance at truly living
song performed by by Quench
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
All The Critics Love U In New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U don't have 2 keep the beat
They'll still think it's neat in New York
U can wear what U want 2
It doesn't matter in New York
U could cut off all your hair
I don't think they'd care in New York
All the critics love U in New York
Why U can play what U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
They won't say that U're naive
If U play what U believe in New York
Purple love-amour is all U're in it 4
But don't show it
The reason that U're cool
Is cuz U're from the old school and they know it
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
All the critics love U
song performed by by Prince from 1999
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Picking It Up
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up...
Like that does not ensure,
Self assurance to occur.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up...
Like that does not ensure,
Self assurance to occur.
It is a strategy that one should seek.
With satisfaction first examined.
To make sure that one increases harmony!
With a proactive way,
Of life to live.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
It is the heat that one releases.
When nothing satisfies to analyzing eyes...
Only seeing with a vision that's fixed.
As if in a tunnel,
To rip through quick.
It's not a riddle when one plays it second fiddle,
Oh...
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
With proactive actions to prevent blurs.
And...
Don't be vague!
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Oh...
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
One should think of self assurance that endures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Could Not Possibly Be Done Without Them
A persistent consistency isn't resistent to critique.
No!
Even though this may be believed.
There is a shared interdependency,
That benefits as a gift.
One who has been focused with purpose,
Has become accustomed to this deed.
And determined to use criticsm,
As a sign of something done...
That is appreciated but not by everyone.
And this continues with a seeking of critique one does,
As a method to keep critics feeling instrumental...
To what is needed to achieve what one does to do,
That could not possibly be done without them...
To ignite that inspiration kept and sought,
For a motivation that sparks one's drive to succeed.
'You could have used another line to rhyme with the other.
Why didn't you do it? '
~It's for the critics I exist.
But 'this' I keep them unaware of it.
I like to refer to this done,
As a mutual benefit of applied irritation.~
'But...
Does it work? '
~We've been irritating each other for years.
So I would think that it does.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Picking Up The Pieces
Take cover, young lovers,
fall apart at the seams
It's stainless steel, that's how I feel,
you're the girl of my dreams
Well I tried to call you on the phone,
your dad said that you weren't at home
But we are, picking up the pieces of our lovin'
over and over again
Picking up the pieces let's do it again
We're picking up the pieces,
picking up the pieces of our love
Well, I need your lovin'
to show me what I am
And I want your body
to make me feel like a man
You know that I'm down on my knees,
you know it's you that I want to please, please
Picking up the pieces of our lovin'
over and over again
Picking up the pieces let's do it again
We're picking up the pieces,
picking up the pieces of our love
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dream Land
Dream Land
Dream Land
What a wonderful place many have seen
But can’t be.
Dream Land
Dream Land
What a horrible place many have seen
And hoped never to be
Dream Land
Dream Land
Many who saw merriment in thy land
Wished never to wake
But wake they must
And when they do
They’re overwhelmed by
Such a sorrowful joy like never before
Dream Land
Dream Land
Struggling they do
Profusely they sweat
And “Jesus! ” they exclaim
When they finally turn their eyes
From the horrors they saw in thy land
Dream Land
Dream Land
What and where are you?
Some think you exist
While others hope you don’t
Do you really exist?
If you do
Where then are you?
If you don’t
Why then do you show thyself to us?
O Dream Land
While do you show thyself to us?
While we sleep
Can’t we see you with our eyes open?
Or are you a world for the blind?
Dream Land
Dream Land
O Dream Land
Where can we find you?
poem by YoungBen Ulebor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Truth I Weep
wondering in the maze of life
somewhere i stopped on a hyacinth
O' my hyacinth
picking it in my hands
the fragrance though spread
overwhelmed in the perfume of it
i wanted to admit
the beauty of love i had for it
with a pricking pain
i saw the thorns
never with a hyacinth
but there were they
to grin was my compulsion
to laugh was the only way
to not let the heart break
i know the pain
but cant let you suffer
O' my hyacinth
cant let you suffer
cant let you suffer
poem by Gule Rukhsar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
May I Have Another Helping of Those Delicious Critics, Please?
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I have been aware of them,
Since I began taking my first steps.
Since my first breath taken...
Was done independently.
I've heard it said,
My lifetime of actions...
By them has been disapproved.
And things I do have been ego led.
It's believed what I do,
Is done to seek attention.
Even those things I do to cleanse,
In privacy...
I care not mention.
We all have talents,
And those gifts that are given.
How I use the ones I have...
Aren't from a critic's invention.
Or maybe because of the creation of 'them'.
Who knows?
Perhaps that's what has them upset.
And if they have time like that to waste...
Don't hesitate in delay to say,
I am just getting started.
And what I've given to them to nibble...
Is just a little taste.
From a baking not completed,
Yet imaginations rate!
They have no idea,
Of who I am!
Or the making of 'me'.
And-what-that-takes!
Since I'm the cooker who does the feeding...
I know who eats!
And those served,
That ate.
Those who choose to regurgitate...
Do it without my decision given to make!
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I do admire their efforts,
But...
What's there is there for them to digest.
I'm not about to give up my peace,
Or my mind for them to test.
My eyes are clear,
And focused on my progress.
Not on things that I've done.
For purposes to keep manifested,
The days I spent in my youth...
Doing things to shock and stun,
Just for the 'hell' of having devilish fun.
Although I must admit,
There is 'something' about controversy...
That appetites my palate much more than just a bit.
'Excuse me...
I know I shouldn't.
Since I am here by invitation.
But,
May I have another helping of those delicious critics,
Please?
I can not believe they could be this delicious.
What have these critics been mixed with? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I suppose when I started out I would have liked to have been the darling of critics or something, but everybody wants to be loved and admired.
quote by John Milius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Who You Are
Someone's drinking all alone
Someone's left the TV on
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
Someone's sleeping in my bed
Someone's let the genie in
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
You know who you are
Who you are, who you are today
Baby's gone and died again
Taken by the tide again
And it's no surprise
She hates goodbyes
Someone's folding paper planes
Someone's on the line again
Someone's crying at the sonnet
Someone's hiding from someone
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
You know who you are
Who you are, who you are today
song performed by by Tears For Fears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
With A Picking Up Of Pieces
Betting to get even,
When the odds are not for all.
Makes not a bit of sense,
As many tears fall.
People wish to leap,
When sometimes it's best to crawl.
And a learning to make peace,
With a picking up of pieces.
People wish to win,
To go shopping at a mall.
Without a learning to make peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
People want to make their rules,
And break every law.
And not learn a single thing,
About the picking up of pieces.
Losers choose to keep their status as big fools.
With disturbing of the peace,
And a dropping of their pieces.
Losers choose to keep their status as big fools.
With disturbing of the peace,
And a dropping of their pieces.
With a boo hooing done,
Or a booing who they choose.
With a leaving of no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
With a boo hooing done,
And loudly done too!
With no peace released,
Or a picking up of pieces.
Boooo...
Boo hooing is what they do.
With no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
Boooo...
Boo hooing is what they choose.
With no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
People want to make their rules,
And break every law.
And not learn a single thing,
About the picking up of pieces.
Losers choose to keep their status as big fools.
With disturbing of the peace,
And a dropping of their pieces.
Boooo...
Boo hooing is what they do.
With no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
Boooo...
Boo hooing is what they choose.
With no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
People wish to leap,
When sometimes it is best to crawl.
And a learning to make peace,
With a picking up of pieces.
Boooo...
Boo hooing is what they do.
With no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
Boooo...
Boo hooing is what they choose.
With no peace.
Or a picking up of pieces.
Dismissing to be peaceful,
With a picking up of pieces.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Suppose to Be Vain
I am suppose to be vain.
You know...
Someone who loves to be on stage.
Because of an exterior presence.
I have been told I am handsome.
So naturally I want the attention.
I am suppose to be vain.
You know...
Someone who speaks, walks
And chew gum at the same time.
With a detectable intelligence too?
Seeking adulation,
That's all I am suppose to do.
I am suppose to be vain.
Because I choose to work hard.
And apply my abilities.
Since I am extremely dedicated,
To my capable creativity.
And it seems I do all of this effortlessly...
I am suppose to be vain!
'WELL...
Are you? '
I am biased!
Not vain.
There is a huge difference between the two.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Autumn Years
Picking up the pieces of my life
I wonder why the hell I ever came here
A man without a future left to face
And nothing but a memory to embrace
Holding on to threads of sanity
Imagining the roads I could have taken
It fills me with a deepening sense of shame
And outside I can hear the pouring rain
There is a place
Where in my mind I escape
And there I understand the way I feel
And deep in this world of make-believe
I will spend my autumn years with you
Sitting in this grey and sunless world
I try to come to terms with guilty feelings
A man about to pay the final price
And nothing but his breath to sacrifice
Therell be a time
When Ill be gone from your mind
A fading ghost that soon will disappear
And deep in my would of endless pain
I must face my autumn years
Im picking up the pieces, Im picking up the pieces
Im picking up the pieces, Im picking up the pieces
Picking up the pieces of my life
song performed by by Johnny Hates Jazz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Scrutinized For Their Blemishes
It is easy for many to sit back and critique,
With a judging done of those tasks...
Others produce with a doing to complete.
And if some people are prolific,
From experiences live that dictate this...
The critics are quick,
To stampede out from nowhere it seems...
With criticsms prepared,
Not to uplift or encourage...
But instead,
Demean.
But when given the opportunity to highlight their gifts,
Critics often spew excuses...
As those under microscope,
Are scrutinized for their blemishes.
Although,
Even those who enjoy themselves as critics...
Have moments they don't admit but wish,
An attention given to be critiqued...
Would validate a reason to rid their insecurities,
With a purpose in their minds that solidified their existence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Picking Teachers For Their Leader
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
My steps cease to seek a quickened pace.
There is no wish for leaving.
I am told in my mind I should stay.
Soft voices dance within rainbowed light!
Sparkling to convince...
I should pray with faith.
And they would make my life right!
Picking teachers for their Leader.
For the One never shown.
The One who through scriptures...
Repeated to make appear,
But left still for them to go unknown.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
How they do it like it's done...
When they come,
Nobody knows.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
They say He's number One.
Like none other like He,
Upon me with gifts bestowed!
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God demands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God Commands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
And I understand...
Something that I give,
Must be done with giving hands.
And instantly I'm comprehending...
My relationship with my fellowman.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader!
Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader
Picking teachers for their Leader.
Picking teachers for their Leader!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Suppose a smile.
Suppose a smile.
Suppose it always, with a smile.
Suppose the sun to shine,
shine with a smile;
suppose the rain to fall and smile
smile at the earth;
the snow, with gentle smile,
protecting tender shoots;
suppose the wind to smile
mysteriously, about its secretwork;
suppose – that’s easy – flowers
to open with a smile; and
smile as they fade and wave farewell,
a smile that says, that’s how it is…
suppose some patient smiles:
as rain-forests say to those who cut them down,
you’ll live to regret this; here’s
your chance to learn;
suppose the desert sand to smile
and say, you took the trees, and now
I’m here; plant, call down rain, store, irrigate…
suppose the ice-cap, melting with sad smile,
saying, I did not choose…
suppose that Abraham, Moses, Christ, Mohammed
spoke their uncompromising, uncomfortable truths
always with a smile; a gentle smile;
a smile to say, I'm here, you're here to learn...
suppose the spear to smile,
hammered into pruning-hook..
suppose smile met with smile.
Suppose.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!