En.Citatepedia^®.ro

I Know I've Grown

I know I've grown.
Had I not...
Mother Nature would not stop me,
Suddenly with her beauty.
And I now am aware,
Of what has been always there.

I know I've grown.
I'm fascinated by a walk in the rain.
If clouds are there,
I do not complain.
And when I get wet,
I get a sense of happiness.
Without feeling 'strange' at all!

I know I've grown.
When I think of obstacles as adjustments.
And it seems as if it was just yesterday,
I struggled against this!
Finding it unbearable to face another challenge.

Today...
I know I've grown.
Since I think of those who passed their judgements,
As gifts received.
And I am able to forgive and let live?
Believing what had been done has its meaning.
Something from that has been retrieved.
And I am relieved by it.

Oh, I know I have grown.
Especially if I can come to smile,
In the face of a known tormentor.
And observing a suspicion,
From them I get!
I am equally as amazed.

And yet...
Not forgetting what was done.
But knowing I have overcomed my anger.
To allow a peace of mind I have found!
And trust me...
The power of that can stun.

And that did not arrive...
As I sat trying to justify my bitterness.
That crap had to go!
And when that was decided,
I knew inside myself...
I had grown to appreciate,
My life with more of an awareness...
Of what Mother Nature shows.
And this has been a blessing.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grown Men Dont Cry

(steve seskin, tom douglas)
I pulled into the shopping center
And saw a little boy wrapped around the legs of his mother
Like ice cream melting they embraced
Years of bad decisions runnin down her face
All mornin Id been thinkin my lifes so hard
And they wore everything they own, livin in a car
I wanted to tell him it would be ok
But I got just got in my suburban and I drove away
But I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
Keep having this dream about my old man
Im 10 years old, and hes holding my hand
Were talkin on the front porch watchin the sun go down
But it was just a dream he was a slave to his job and he couldnt be around
So many things I wanna say to him
But I just placed a rose on his grave, and I talk to the wind
But I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry, dont cry
Im sittin here with my kids and my wife
And everything that I hold dear in my life
We say grace and thank the lord
Got so much to be thankful for
Then its up the stairs and off to bed and my little girl says
I havent had my story yet.
And everything weighin on my mind disappears just like that
When she lifts her head off her pillow and says,
I love you dad
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
And I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry, dont cry

song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Grown Tomatoes

There aint nothin in the world that I like better than bacon n lettuce n
Home grown tomatoes up in the mornin, out in the garden
Get you a ripe one, dont pick a hard un plant em in the spring, eat em in
The summer all winter without em is a culinary bummer I forget all about the
Sweatinand the digginevery time I go out and pick me a big un home grown
Tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown
Tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes you can go out to eat an thats for
Sure but theres nothina home grown tomatoe wont cure put em in a salad, put
em in a stew
You can make your own tomatoe juice
You can eat em with eggs, eat em with gravy you can eat em with beans, pinto
Or navy put em on the side, put em in the middle home grown tomatoes on a hot
Cake griddle home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like
Without home grown tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes if is to change this life I lead
You could call me johnny tomatoe seed
cause I know what this country needs
Home grown tomatoes in every yard you see when I die dont bury me
In a box in a cold dark cemetery
Out in the garden would be much better
cause I could be pushin up a home grown tomatoe home grown tomatoes, home
Grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown tomatoes only two
Things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes
Words and music by guy clark

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Do Children Want To Grow

Why do Children
of now adays
Want to grow so fast
to look grown up
to think grown up
But still be a child at heart
I would live my childhood
OVER again just to be a child
to have pure heart
Pure minds, pure dreams
Instead of a childhood of distain
To play without a care
And see the magic of Mother Nature
And use imagination
To dance on rainbows
And white fluffy clouds
To play hide and seek
In the candy land of our dreams
To ride on unicorns
And sprinkle fair dust
To take a flight in
A midsummer dream
Why would children of today
Pass all this by
Just to be grown up
In a world like ours
Why lose the innocence
Of childhood sweet dreams
Just to rush into
The uncertainty of life
Why bypass your childhood
Just to be an adult of today
only to yearn the loss
of you childhood of yesterday

poem by Kaila George
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Same Old Song

And the band starts playing
The same old song again
The monks start praying
To the same God again

But He has grown,
He's grown tired
Maybe its time
That he retired

He's grown selfish,
He's grown Greedy
Bless the homeless
And the needy

And the band start playing
The same old song again
The old are still aging
Its new years eve again

But they've grown stupid,
They've grown lazy
They've grown senile,
and gone crazy

They've grown new cancers,
And suffer old ulcers
There are new medicines,
which might be the answer

And the band start playing
The same old song again
And here I am sitting
Back in that same chair again

You were cold,
and you were hearltless
Still you insist
that you are faultless

You are selfish
and you were cruel
How long must you torture
this young fool

And the band start playing
The same old song again
And when it ends
I press rewind again

I am drunk, and feel so sleepy
And in this room I'm feeling creepy
Maybe we sat here too long
Maybe I should stop listening

To our Old Song

poem by Niroda Abboud
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Tis the Season For Reflection

'Tis the season for reflection.
Let's reflect upon this year.
Was it one that you'll remember
all the good that did appear?

Or will the good be overshadowed
by the painful times that came?
Your attitude towards those around you,
was it different or the same?

We cannot change the sins of others
but we can if they're our own.
The year has come and gone so quickly.
Was it one in which you've grown?

Grown in spirit towards each other,
grown in tolerance for all men,
grown in peaceful ways of thinking,
grown in every way you can?

'Tis the season for the carolds
calling for good will towards men.
Let's be thankful for the singing
and reflect on this year again.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Going Nowhere

This is what you offer me,
A system of dishonesty,
Where life is measured, monetarily,
And I'm just another face.
Another man with the simple skills,
Of staying alive, and paying the bills
I'll Never amount to anything,
Live and die where I've always been.
This is where I'm at, the bills
Still come no matter what,
I'm all grown up, but still I'm going' nowhere
I'm all grown up, but still I'm going' nowhere
Uneducated, though I graduated,
Wish I would have been a little more dedicated,
And got something out of school,
Instead of always playing the fool.
But even if I did for just one day,
Had all the right words that I wanted to say,
It wouldn't make any difference anyway,
Cause no-one's listening
This is where I'm at, the bills
Still come no matter what,
I'm all grown up, but still I'm going' nowhere
I'm all grown up, but still I'm going' nowhere
So save your words,
Just save your words,
Cause I don't care anymore,
So save your words,
Just save your words,
Cause I don't care anymore,
So save your words,
Just save your words,
Cause I don't care anymore,
So save your words,
Just save your words,
Cause I don't care any-more,
My father worked his life away,
In all those years he never missed a day,
There isn't anybody that could say,
He didn't keep his bills paid.
All that time, he never got to do,
All the things in life that he wanted to,
He always kept his family fed,
With the blood and sweat he shed.
With the sacrifice he's made,
This is how he gets repaid,
I'm all grown up, but still I'm going' nowhere
I'm all grown up, but still I'm going' nowhere

song performed by by Zero Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Know Little

As knowledge goes I have a long way to go
So little of life and of Nature I know
I have not grown wiser but I have grown gray
And the clock on my life it is ticking away
The praises of Nature so many do sing
But the vastness of Nature is a humbling thing
Even the great whales are small in the vastness of the sea
The World we live in seems enormous to me
Of why the birds and of how the plants grow
The more we learn of life and Nature the less we know we know
Of the World around us we've been learning since before we learned how to crawl
But we realize as we learn we know little at all
Of life and of Nature you may be old and gray
But you never stop learning until your last day.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The hitch in wisdom

I have grown enough
To discard belief in God,
Faith in soul and hopes in rituals.
I haven’t grown enough
To disbelieve my mother’s spirit.
16.04.2004

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Grown to Bloom

In the days gone,
When I took for granted...
My life.
And the ease of complicity,
I had accepted nature...
As it surrounded me.
I've grown to bloom!

I've grown to comprehend...
What begins ends soon.
To feed a process,
I am blessed to experience.

And...
I have learned to enjoy whatever it is,
I do!
More than any time before!
Now that I know I can open doors!
And not be concerned how it was done.

That task...
I leave in the hands of a mind,
Far greater than mine.

I've grown to bloom...
To wither.
To feed a process,
I am blessed to experience.
Until I have finally come to rest,
In the nest of eternity!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As he had grown older, he found that he had grown away from his people. Their interests and his were far removed. They had not kept pace with him, nor could they understand aught of the many strange and wonderful dreams that passed through the active brain of their human king. So limited was their vocabulary that Tarzan could not even talk with them of the many new truths, and the great fields of thought that his reading had opened up before his longing eyes, or make known ambitions which stirred his soul. Among the tribe he no longer had friends as of old. A little child may find companionship in many strange and simple creatures, but to a grown man there must be some semblance of equality in intellect as the basis for agreeable association.

Edgar Rice Burroughs in Tarzan of the Apes (1912)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Now I Am Old

Seems I have grown old and my belly pops out
although I'm strangely at ease
and find comfort in its wobbling.

Seems I've grown old and my body aches
in places that I never knew
and still I take pleasure in the aching.

To be this age and moan is what I fancy
and I moan a lot, to annoy my children
and my grandchildren and some.

What good is it to be old and silent,
to sit in a chair, rocking to and fro
without a gripe or a fart or both!

No, I like to let the world know I'm here,
and after all these years of staying quiet,
to argue my point and snarl a little.

Seems I've grown old and my skin has creases
where there used to be bloom and colour
and young men complimented me.

Seems only yesterday I held you close
let you suckle from my tiny breasts
that have also grown, now, that they are no use.

Men will say, 'look at the knockers on that'
as I lie on a beach bathing in the sunshine
with a newspaper over my head

and I'll cackle and laugh and swear at them,
throw my stick at them and tell them to
behave as - now - I am old.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Our child once grown

What if my wife revealed that she was pregnant by me?
However, what if our child one day chose simply not to believe?
In nine months and eighteen years, I need to answer this question.
Nine months for God and my wife to give birth to the little one.
Eighteen year for us to train them in the way that they should go.
But, it is our child choice in whom to believe once grown and outside our front door.

At home, our child shall be instructed about the consequences of their sin.
Our child will understand the punishment of God for sin in the end.
I will train our child up in the Godly way that they should always go.
I will show them the love of the wonderful God I personally know.
Once grown, by us, our child shall be shown how to live life righteously.
Regardless in whom they believe, they will always be our child to me.

How would I feel if in spite of everything I taught and showed our child?
Our child decided, once grown, to take another way in life for a while.
Although taught while young not to steal; once grown they stole any way.
Although taught while young not to lie; once grown they lied every day.
Would I abandon them as quickly as the rest of the world?
Would they still be the prized apple of your heart and still be daddy’s little boy or girl?

Still, there is always a chance our child might choose in God not to believe.
If our child does, it is not because of the lack of the right instructions from me.
I will love our child even if by their life they chose not to follow God.
Because no matter what our child is an important part of my heart.
In who to continue to believe that major choice of life shall be their own.
But, they are still our child though they choose not to believe or act right once grown.

poem by Reginald Walker
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Every Bump of This Internal Ride

So much of myself has grown.
From depths of solitude known...
But left to go unquestioned.
Left to accept what had been said,
But never confirmed.
So much of myself has grown.
When on my own I sought to learn...
To face insecurities.
And not claim them as personal property,
To rid and live life with discovered excitement.
Freed...
To enjoy,
Every bump of this internal ride!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Little Big Man

I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
I shall tell him, " Do you not know I am as big as father? And
I must not have lessons any more."
My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he
likes, for he is grown up."
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is
thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get
lost, my boy; let me carry you."
I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father?
I must go to the fair alone."
Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is
grown up."
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my
nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?"
I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as
father, and I must give silver to my nurse."
Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he
likes, for he is grown up."
In the holiday time in October father will come home and,
thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town
little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, "Father, give them to my data, for I am as big
as you are."
Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he
likes, for he is grown up."

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Gonna Live My Life For The Love Of It

Not gonna deal with the BS no more.
Or with the dirt left at my front door.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
Not gonna fight against ignorance.
Or with conditions that present it.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!

I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
Without a bit of blight,
To nibble off a piece of it...
To satisfy my hungered sight!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
And spiced my way,
With a taste I can say is for me...
Done just right!

Not gonna fight against ignorance.
Or with conditions that present it.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
Without a bit of blight,
To nibble off a piece of it!

I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
With a taste I can say is for me...
Done just right!

No more, no more, no more...
Denying it.
No more, no more, no more...
Refusing it.
No more, no more, no more...
Unhappiness.
Gonna live my life for the love of it.
Today and always.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grown in Age and That's About It

Grown!
And still making immature comments.
Grown in body but not in mind.
Making comments about likes and dislikes.
And who it is they wish to beat and fight.
With the whipping done of someone's behind.

Inspite of the fact,
The one on their list for wishes to attack like that...
Has no idea these childminded creatures,
Stalk them near.

Grown in age and that's about it.
Expressing who they wish to 'get'.
And 'hit' over foolish and unbelievable nonsense.
Regardless if they are mothers and fathers with kids.
Ignorance is their policy AND initiative.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Charlene-n-Booker 4ever

And the old men, supervising grown grandsons, nephews,
any man a boy given this chance of making
a new sidewalk outside the apartment building where
some of them live, three old men and their wives,
the aging unmarrying children, and the child
who is a cousin, whose mother has sent her here
because she doesn't know what to do with her,
she's out of control, she wants to be a gangsta, and
the old folks talk to her as if she minds them
and already has that respect for their years her mother
finally grew into. The girl who does not look
like them eats and eats and sleeps late, sneaks away
when they are busy, and tonight will write herself
all over the sidewalk while it is still wet but
the old have gone inside, and the grown gone home,
and her mother who is somewhere overseas thinks of
writing her that long long letter, but decides not to.

poem by Forrest Hamer
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Paracelsus In Excelsis

‘Being no longer human, why should I
Pretend humanity or don the frail attire?
Men have I known and men, but never one
Was grown so free an essence, or become
So simply element as what I am.
The mist goes from the mirror and I see.
Behold! the world of forms is swept beneath-
Turmoil grown visible beneath our peace,
And we that are grown formless, rise above-
Fluids intangible that have been men,
We seem as statues round whose high-risen base
Some overflowing river is run mad,
In us alone the element of calm.'

poem by Ezra Pound
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I Wish My Heart To You Was Known

I wish my heart to you was known.
With emotions deep.
I do keep within reach.

I can be distant at times.
But my mind is aware.
Who approaches with sincerity.
And a return of it,
I can and will share.

Without defense or fences seen.
To pop up suddenly...
From nowhere.
To be rude, indignant or mean.

I'm here to care.
But not just for anyone.
Nor do I seek perfection.
Not with the flaws,
I've yet to overcome.

It is not often that I meet someone...
Who can accept with forgiveness,
The unconsciousness of others.
And allow them time...
To correct what they have done.

I try not to sit with bitterness inside.
Knowing my pride could be hard to handle.
Since I overly protect a sensitive side.

A peace of mind I have.
And it was not easily obtained.
It took years in development.
To keep as is.
Proudly maintained.

Many times I have sat alone.
Amazed in the ways that I have grown.
And wishing someone knew,
My life the way I do!

Perhaps that's why I wish...
My heart to you was known.
I recognize your thoughtfulness!
And that...
Not too many can express.
In the way to me you have shown!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Now You're Wishing For A Man You Never Had

Oh Boy,
Why did you do her wrong?
When you knew she had your back,
All day long.
You must be taking,
Some ill-advised medication to do that.

And Girl,
Why did you let him do it?
Aint that much love in the world,
To be taking that crap.
Don't let him lower your elevation.
You should have left him on the curb,
To trot his own tracks.

And Boy,
You better get your head together...
With a putting of those games you play,
Away...
Where you said you began to pack your toys.
If you wish back what you nearly destroyed.

'Do I wish you two back together? '

And Girl,
You wished with him kids?
You shouldn't have made a wish like that...
But you did.

Well...
You've got them!
And...
Alone on your own.

You wanted 'your' babies!
And a Boy that's not grown.

Well...
You've got them!
And...
Alone on your own,
Wishing for a man you never had.

You wanted 'your' babies!
And a Boy that's not grown.
Now you're wishing for a man you never had.

You wanted 'your' babies!
And a Boy that's not grown.
Now you're wishing for a man you never had.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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