Nostalgic Droppings
Surplus nonsense shoveled over,
To display another side of the same crap laid!
Pretending that it is different...
When someone else labels it grade A.
And it depends who they are to get that rating high!
But there's nothing new to that mess!
It's the same redundant BS that is fed and it's 'dry'!
No snap crackle or pop...
To these nostalgic droppings!
There's nothing fresh to this mix...
I'ts the same tired dressing,
Composed for the toppings!
Ugh!
And they wonder why,
Stagnation excites rebellion!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Im sick and tired(written on August 16,2008)
Im sick of pretending im happy
Im tired of pretending i care
all this pain ive been put through
Is too much for me to bare
Im sick of pretending i love life
im tired of living this lie
fed up with trying to hide my hurt
I just want to sit down and cry
Im sick of pretending i hate you
Imtired of pretending to know
The reasons why you left me
Oh why did you have to go
Im sick of trying
Im tired of crying
Yeah im smiling
But inside im dying
poem by Elizabeth Burnworth
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I’m Pretending
I’m pretending nothing happened,
that we are still together.
I’m pretending you never
went away with someone new.
I’m pretending we are still a couple,
that you are still nearby.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.
I’m pretending that our love
still shines brightly.
I’m pretending that you still care
and lying to myself each day.
I’m pretending that you just stepped out
and that you are not far away.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.
I’m pretending it always summer
and that winter never comes.
I’m pretending life is as it was
and I’m forever with you.
I’m pretending you are with me
and not in the arms of someone new.
I’m pretending that I am smiling
and that I’m not feeling blue.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.
20 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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ET Came To Breakfast (Fun Poem 10)
My breakfast was going snap, crackle and pop,
when suddenly in the chair opposite something went plop.
I looked across the table and was astonished to see,
a little green man looking at me.
I blinked a couple of times,
even pinched myself to make sure it was real.
He was, you can believe,
and my breakfast he was trying to steal.
We pulled at the bowl,
no one getting the upper hand,
and then he stuck his finger in the bowl,
and sucked out the blinking lot,
milk and my snap, crackle and pop.
The moral of this story.
If a little green man comes to breakfast,
Get an extra bowl.
28 April 2007
poem by David Harris
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Piece Of Crap (Eddie Vedder & Ministry) (White Label Demo)
Neil Young) (various dates)
Tried to save the trees, bought a plastic bag
The bottom fell out, it was a piece 'a crap...piece of crap...
Wanted an LP, only had CD's
Digitally clean, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Bought myself a can, thought it'd take me far
The dealer was a liar, he was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Got it from my friend, on him you can depend
I found out in the end, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
I'm trying to save the trees, I saw it on TV
They cut the forest down to build a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Picked up a magazine to read about the scene
It didn't tell me beans, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
I went back to the store, they gave me four more
The guy told me at the door it was a piece of crap...
It was a piece of crap
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh, Tinned or Frozen
Father was a snap bean,
that's all, Sis,
nothing more.
Fresh, tinned or frozen,
the greens of snap beans vary.
Neighbors in the yard,
clerks at the store,
folks at church,
you and me and bawling Ma,
for years we fed his strange chameleons
so we can swear, on the Bible,
Father was a snap bean,
that's all, Sis.
Nothing more.
Fresh, tinned or frozen.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Maintaining Standards.
To make the grade in Biggleswade.
Teatime is taken seriously.
The cake you serve must be home made
and rather plain not too fancy.
Of course the table must be laid
with your best china on display
A snow white cloth the finest made.
Things must be done the proper way.
The good ladies of Biggleswade.
Intent on keeping standards high,
will try their hardest to persuade
new ladies that they must not buy
Rich fresh cream cakes to serve for tea.
They must maintain tradition.
I’m not convinced too easily
and so I wait’ til they have gone.
My man and I prefer our tea.
Strong hot and sweet from half pint pots.
We eat while watching the TV.
We think they are a stuffy lot.
But we are not from Biggleswade
and we do things a different way.
More casual not stiff and staid.
More suited to the world today.
We don’t fit in, in Biggleswade,
we do not like formality
we never will I am afraid.
But we don’t care we’d rather be
allowed to live the way we choose.
And not by rules we must obey.
So quite politely we refuse
and send the ladies on their way.
The leading ladies of the town.
The great and good of Biggleswade.
I am quite sure have marked us down
Unsuitable to make the grade.
Sunday,13 June 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who's Taller?
Depends on if the judge is fair,
Depends how high the heels you wear,
Depends on if they count the hair,
Depends if they allow the chair.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Polluted With Deludedness
When I turned my back...
That's when I got attention.
They believe the held
Something that attracted.
And I had given up.
Divorced I was...
From that kind of stuff.
I tried to snap them back into reality.
Another insight,
That proved honest to me.
But they were polluted with deludedness.
And I had tired of the stench.
I left them in their designer trenches!
Shoveled and dugged,
Around them to protect.
They wanted to sell me...
Their used cesspool philosophies!
They believed I was crazed to leave their rage!
As they paraded their smells with a pulchritude.
That captivated their lack of comprehension,
With an apartheid pride they defended.
And I was out of their league.
Pleased was I to be out of step as well.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Using Up Some Valuable Time
It may be true.
There is two sides to a coin.
You don't understand...
I'm not asking you to flip it over.
I don't want to see the other side of it.
I have no interest.
What I've seen is enough.
And anything on the other side of that...
Needs to leave this one sided.
And I leave not curious at all.
When I expect someone to be upfront with me...
I only want to see one side.
The honest side!
All this 'two-sides-to-every-story' nonsense...
May work in Hollywood, Disneyland
Or any shopping mall!
However...
While you were collecting from me,
My benefits of doubt?
You were using up some valuable time!
Not mine!
Yours.
'Who' led you to believe,
I was that stupid?
Because I was 'there' for you...
Did not mean I was there to be used,
By you or played!
And that story you've been telling,
Needed new chapters added a long time ago.
I'm just speeding up the ending for the both of us.
I've decided I did not want to see repeated episodes,
This season.
Nor am I going to feel nostalgic,
Reviewing them with you either!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Personalized Garbage
What better day is it than today,
To trash and put out on the curb...
All disturbing nonsense.
Every single bit of it.
Without a need to start an argument.
Like a chore over time that has been ignored,
Sack all that crap stored...
To get rid of it.
And set it out to stay away permanently....
From your front door.
And if it should be passed as you leave,
To get some fresh air inhaled and exhaled to breathe...
Don't acknowledge you are familiar with it.
If you do recognize this as personalized garbage,
Again it will be yours to reluctantly admit.
What better day is it than today,
To trash and put out on the curb...
All disturbing nonsense.
Every single bit of it.
Without a need to start an argument.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Obnoxiously Blatant
You can never do what they do,
From an egotistical point of view.
It has to come through...
Naturally done...
To keep the substance one that's fun.
Those who force themselves like some,
To do what they believe is easily done
Discover in their repetition...
There is none for those not in competition!
Creativity isn't taught in schools.
Where some obtain the tools to try to fool!
There are those who are born that way.
Many attempt to copy their efforts!
But the 'originals' never cease,
To have something unique to say and display!
The one thing done folks do and wont tell,
Is lie, steal and cheat!
And for a while many did that well!
So someone had to teach them that.
To have it so obnoxiously blatant!
Repulsively redundant!
Without consideration of a single captured flourish!
And importantly...without hint of smoldering tact!
Where do they learn this crap?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blackberries
Blackberry big bulky
sophisticated prestigious high tech
hi-tech cell phone hand phone
cellular phone mobile phone
not being a businessman
many extras are surplus to me
systems unlearned are surplus to me
integrated circuits excite not surplus to me
chains of locations busted
ease of instant access
is sufficient service unto me
in times of intense
sun spot activity
all systems fail
poem by Terence George Craddock
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While You Skate
You can't break my heart and run,
Believing that will stimulate...
Since you've done it to invigorate,
While you skate.
Oh no!
No no.
No. No. No. No. No. No. Oh nooo!
You can't do what's been done before,
To pat and scratch like a puppy begging for more.
Ooo oh no.
No no.
No. No. No. No. No. No. Oh nooo!
Hold up on that locomotive.
With motives to bowl me all over...
Or roll in granola.
I'm much wiser...
Older.
Bolder.
And I don't cry on no one's shoulder!
Or weep for treats in tantrums to annoy.
Oh no.
No no.
No. No. No. No. No. No. Oh nooo!
Back up off that BS stuff.
I've had enough of all that crap you've laid!
I'm not a cuckoo.
Or your loose screw.
Ooooh back up off that BS stuff.
I've had enough of all that crap you've laid!
I'm not a cuckoo.
Or your loose screw.
You can't break my heart and run,
Believing that will stimulate...
Since you've done it to invigorate,
While you skate.
You can't do what's been done before,
To pat and scratch like a puppy begging for more.
Oh no.
No no.
No. No. No. No. No. No. Oh nooo!
Back up off that BS stuff.
I've had enough of all that crap you've laid!
I've said...
Back up off that BS stuff.
I've had enough of all that crap you've laid!
You can't break my heart and run,
Believing that will stimulate...
Since you've done it to invigorate,
While you skate.
No. No. No. No. No. No...
No!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sick And Tired
Im sick of pretending its all perfect
Tired of living a lie
Sick of loving you
Tired of the tears I cry
Im sick of giving you my love
Tired of getting nothing in return
Sick of all your other girls
Tired of being unable to learn
Im sick of running back to you
Tired of returning hurt
Sick of been laughed about
Tired of being treated like dirt
Im sick of living this life
Tired of being blue
Sick of thoughts about giving up
Tired of the stupid things I do
Im so sick of it all
So sick Im going do it
So tired of been stuck in the middle
So tired Im going to quit
Labels are for filing. Labels are for clothing. Labels are not for people.
quote by Martina Navratilova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick and Tired
Sick of you.
Sick of me.
Sick of this eternity.
Sick of asking what is wrong.
Sick of trying to get along.
Tired of smiling.
Tired of love.
Tired of pretending your from above.
Tired of chasing you around.
Tired of never making a sound.
I'm sick and tired,
and all worn out.
Please just hear me scream and shout;
'I'm done with you! '
This is the end
At least that's what I'm going to pretend.
poem by Brittany Graviet
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Motown (In Remembrance Of...)
Where are the sounds of Motown now?
That innovative and daring reach to be different!
Nothing today can captivate...
Except Beyoncé who tintillates imaginations!
Taking her creativity to fresh and new dimensions.
Blazing with excitement that awakens,
A dormant void of cookie cutter mass produced
Sameness that lacks snap and crackle!
Where are the sounds of Motown now?
There is no 'beat' today that repeats or come close,
To those Brewster Project folks...
Who toasted all of Detroit back then!
Every released song was a 'gem' it seemed.
Evoked from the mind of Berry Gordy's dream!
And today we listen to celebrated crap!
From 'ghetto stars' who make millions...
Lifting 'originality' tweaked off stolen tracks!
I wish that Motown could come back!
Inspiring with a motivation...
The writers, singers and producers
Holland-Dozier and Holland
Certainly did not lack!
When the sounds of Motown were around,
There seemed to be less crime to be found....
And more hand claps!
I wish that Motown could come back!
Like those things that brought good feelings...
Gone!
Never to be time-released,
But forever time-capsule trapped!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pretending
(by jerry lynn williams)
How many times must we tell the tale?
How many times must we fall?
Living in lost memory
You just recalled
Working on the sound of the band
Trying to get the music right
Two go out working
Three stay home at night
Thats when she said she was pretending
Like she knew the plan
Thats when I knew she was pretending
Pretending to understand
Pretending, pretending
Pretending, pretending
Satisfied but lost in love
Situations change
Youre never who you used to think you are
How strange
Chorus
I get lost in alibis
Sadness cant prevail
Everybody knows strong love
Cant fail
Dont be pretending about how you feel
Dont be pretending that your love is real
Dont be pretending about how you feel
Dont be pretending that your love is real
Pretending, pretending
Pretending, pretending
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On A Mission
Through the shopping Arcades
full of various trades.
Folk go on a mission
with just one ambition.
To find some great bargains
within some tight margins.
Funds are in a low state,
makes the poor heart deflate.
No designer labels
laid out on ‘posh’ tables,
will attract them to buy,
when the price is too high.
Window glancing today,
at what’s put on display.
Credit cards, they are bad.
Build arrears, so sad.
Save enough, pay your way.
Best advice to convey.
A much happier you,
when you’ve paid what is due.
What you’ve bought is now yours,
no account at the stores.
Why be saddled with debts,
loaded down with regrets.
If you reserve your cash,
don’t go spending slapdash.
Then the sum will be good,
to spend just as you would
For there’s offers out there,
on clothes ready to wear.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Miracles You do not have to look for them. They are there, 24 7, beaming like radio waves all around you. Put up the antenna, turn up the volume - snap... crackle... this just in, every person you talk to is a chance to change the world...
quote by Hugh Elliott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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