Not a Bourgy Doer
I use to have issues with being emotionally needy.
Feeling I had to achieve to appease and please.
While experiencing a sense of abandonment...
And no one cared what was happening inside of me.
I use to be moody with a quick lip and attitude.
I knew as a child I had responsibilities.
And those children I knew had none or few.
As I grew older and more rebellious in mind,
I became more independent and less forgiving...
Of those who had direction in their lives of some kind.
Although I am no longer there where I had been...
Emotionally I remain protective,
And free to speak without a need to be touched.
'Too bourgy and aloof,
Using that as an excuse to feed.'
Who me?
'Yes you!
Just too bourgy and aloof,
Out to prove that you can do and succeed.'
Not me...
I'm not a bourgy doer.
'But you're bourgy and aloof,
Using that as an excuse to feed.'
Who me?
'Yes you!
You're out to prove.
You're bourgy and aloof.
Out to prove that you can do and succeed.'
Not me...
I'm not a bourgy doer.
Or out to prove a thing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
In That Mood To Pursue
I'm in that mood.
In that mood.
To pursue,
And do...
Just for me and not a thing to prove.
I'm in that mood.
In that mood.
To pursue,
And do...
Just for me,
And not a thing to prove.
I woke up in attitude I knew.
Arrogant but more...
Determinance.
Like a man standing in defense...
Of what I have now with confidence.
And no one's gona try to say I make no sense.
I'm in that mood.
In that mood.
To pursue,
And do...
Just for me and not a thing to prove.
I'm in that mood.
In that mood.
To pursue,
And do...
Just for me,
And not a thing to prove.
I woke up in attitude I knew.
Arrogant,
With a meaning intent.
And a mind tracked on common sense.
I'm in that mood.
In that mood.
To pursue,
And do...
Just for me,
And not a thing to prove.
I feel there's nothing now that I can't do.
I'm in that mood,
For me.
No one has to agree.
I'm up,
And ready to fulfill my needs.
I said I'm up...
And ready to fulfill my needs.
I'm in that mood.
In that mood.
To pursue,
And do...
Just for me and not a thing to prove,
To you or nobody in that groove...
Who aint got it goin' and movin'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whose Issues Are These?
The fact that I can change my mind,
Anytime I want to and be committed
To proving I can be unstable,
Should prove to anyone else
I have faced my issues.
And.
I am entitled to be just as aloof,
As the next person.
So don't hand me that nonsense,
About me being unaccountable.
When did accountability,
Ever become a priority?
And
Who is to judge to what degree,
My known issues
That are my right to have,
Aren't done with the best of my ability?
Whose issues are these?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aloof
i am
Aloof
because you are
Aloof
and Aloof are we
in this
World that is Aloof too
because we are Aloof
because we think that this world is Aloof
and the World thinks too that it is Aloof because we are Aloof.
and so on
and so
Forth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Aloof
THE irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof, bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seem'd not so far to seek,
And all the world and I seem'd much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong, and life itself not weak.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Stardom or Boredom! A LONELY RED BIRD Flies in My Natural Kingdom!
I am eight and twenty, a lonely rose – no one close to sit with;
Here are no companions nor kin and kith, I live in lonely myth!
Sitting in the empty hall by myself at the day dawn in the white;
I feel awful – awful beyond all – crying gently dusk in the night.
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am, sitting in the dark; aloof I am, with my lonely bark;
Aloof I am, butterflies helter-skelter in me at lonely gaze!
Aloof I am, there is a void; there is a vacuum in my lonely daze;
Aloof I am sitting with empty ache; aloof I am – a lonely lark.
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am, these many shocks, lonely talks only for me, tell me why?
Aloof I am, I beg thee – don’t enter my only soul everyday, I say....
Aloof I am, I don’t want to be aloof in anyway – even on holiday;
Aloof I am, I say thee – I don't want to live, I want to die for lonely sigh!
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am – a sole flower in a field; a sole child does not shield;
Aloof I am – a moonless night, stormy weather sets the tone…….
Aloof I am in turbulent weather, me a solo feather in deserted scene;
Aloof I am, in lonely battle, with a fresh cut I gave up! I yield!
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Aloof I AM – I Met A LONELY GOOF on my Only Roof! Woof! Woof!
Among the pride of lions – shudders a lonely deer, a cute one;
Along bowfins and dolphins fumbles a fingerling – a little one,
I'm a waxing gibbous moon riding in the lonely sky.....
I'm a crackpot – always under the lonely cloud, I don’t why!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
Aloof I am, a lone blue bird hopped up– my blood red ran cold!
Aloof I am, a lone red bird popped up – fear returned me in letters bold!
Aloof I am – hugged aloneness; aloof I am – aloneness bugged me;
Aloof I am – invited aloneness; aloof I am – lonely bug has bitten me.
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
Aloof I am, sitting in my corridor, I invited aloneness for a treat;
Aloof I am, walking on the barren moor, loneliness lurked to beat;
Aloof I am, I felt a stab in my heart, my skin turned blue by lonely heat;
Aloof I am, oh my god! Aloneness is butchering me for my meat!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
Where do you come from? Did I mail thee? Oh! Lonely emperor;
What is your name? Why do you tame me? I fear your lonely roar;
I hail thee; I surrender thee; I pray thee; oh lonely prince of honor;
Don’t nail me for I know you before, I can’t bear thee – oh no more!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Prove Your Love
Written by christine mcvie.
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooooh...
I want to be, inside your heart
Thats place, the place for me
But I could understand, it wont be easy
Youve got to prove, prove your love to me
Youve got to prove, prove your love to me
Like I say it aint easy
To let your heart run wild
So if you want to please me baby
Then dont act like a child
But I can understand, it won t be easy
Youve got to prove, prove your love to me
Youve got to prove, prove your love to me
It doesnt matter if youre far away
Or right here by my side
Thats the way I feel about it
We cant let the whole thing slide...
So if you cant see me
Right where you are
They why dont you send for me baby
By the nearest star
It wont be easy, and youve got to prove
Youve got to prove, prove your love to me
Youve got to prove, prove your love to me
Ooooohhhh, oooooohh, ooooooh...
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Feel Me?
Everything and everyone under the Sun,
Seeks to be closer to something...
Or someone.
Rarely are there exceptions to this.
Unless someone has been taught,
To forget this closeness nonsense...
And wont have none of it.
Still there can be seen trees growing majestically.
Even someone or some 'thing',
That stands out to get attention it brings.
But when it comes to hearts, eyes and ears...
It becomes difficult to separate them,
From the touch of emotions.
I'm not going to admit I know a thing about this,
Since I am suppose to be aloof, cold and indifferent.
To those I choose to be aloof, cold and indifferent to!
I am not experiencing my life,
Just to be used to benefit someone else's pleasures.
I have my own I'd like to 'share' to get 'there'.
You feel me?
I wish you could!
Everything and everyone under the Sun,
Seeks to be closer to something...
Or someone.
And when it comes to hearts, eyes and ears...
It becomes difficult to separate them,
From the touch of emotions.
I'm not going to admit I know a thing about this,
Since I am suppose to be aloof, cold and indifferent.
To those I choose to be aloof, cold and indifferent to!
You feel me?
No not you.
The other one to the left of you and looking away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I was working on Eye of the Beholder, I played a character who is so aloof that my whole lifestyle became very aloof. If someone knocked on my door, there was a part of me that went into a rage, because I wanted to be isolated and alone.
quote by Ashley Judd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here's to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen
Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
Here's to the widow of fifty;
Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean,
And here's to the housewife that's thrifty.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize;
Now to the maid who has none, sir:
Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow;
Now to her that's as brown as a berry:
Here's to the wife with her face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that's merry.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a feather;
So fill a pint bumper quite up to the brim,
And let us e'en toast them together.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
poem by Richard Brinsley Sheridan
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Freebies Bring No Smile
Our politicians used to say,
Let us see the God,
in the smiles of poor and destitute.
I ask them a simple question,
How long we have to be poor,
to see our Gods in our smiles.
We do not need subsidies,
we want opportunities,
to prove ourselves,
to prove our qualification,
to prove that we are human,
to feed our children,
to provide our families.
Take away the subsidies,
Give us the opportunities,
to toil on our own soil,
instead of digging,
the opportunity of another,
Who may be as poor as we are.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Dogma in My Hymn
Dogma in my hymn: I am God
Dog, as a devil deified; deified, lived as a dog
Dog sex, even if fine, vexes God.
Dog's a fool: aloof as God.
Senile felines-
Was it a car or a cat I saw?
Stack cats;
Step on no pets
Drab as a fool, aloof as a bard.
poem by Patti Masterman
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The Sanctuary
If I could keep my innermost Me
Fearless, aloof and free
Of the least breath of love or hate,
And not disconsolate
At the sick load of sorrow laid on men;
If I could keep a sanctuary there
Free even of prayer,
If I could do this, then,
With quiet candor as I grew more wise
I could look even at God with grave forgiving eyes.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Prove that He is not God
Why should I prove that
I am nothing but a slave to Almighty?
First thou prove that the sky,
the planets,
the earth,
And the whole universe
do not belong to Him.
Prove that He is not the creator,
the cherisher,
the sustainer,
And I will prove that I am His slave.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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With A Pity That You Want
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
To realize...
A pain you keep.
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And your wants are weak.
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
Oh...
But you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want,
To show you're one of those...
With a pity that you want,
To show exposed.
With a pity that you want,
To be one of those!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Forbidden To See
We see it clearly yet forbidden to see
Feel bondage and not free
Wants to get rid off or cross
But find confusion and at loss,
Always inwardly feel
But no powerful will
Instinct to kill
But unable to fill
Near to truth
But still wants proof
With shelter and roof
Yet feels very lonely and aloof
It is inside strength
Match with full wave length
Soul revolts and ignorance melts
Wisdom prevails and divinity is felt
No drams but with reality
Prove as human being with good quality
Inhuman in approach yet close to humanity
Strong resolve despite known inability
Still more is needed
Advice is heeded
Path is searched
Goal is reached
What is to be left behind?
No one knows how to find
Yet at heart we are kind
Little upset compels us to mind
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Thread of Life
I
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?--
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seemed not so far to seek
And all the world and I seemed much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.
II
Thus am I mine own prison. Everything
Around me free and sunny and at ease:
Or if in shadow, in a shade of trees
Which the sun kisses, where the gay birds sing
And where all winds make various murmuring;
Where bees are found, with honey for the bees;
Where sounds are music, and where silences
Are music of an unlike fashioning.
Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew,
And smile a moment and a moment sigh
Thinking: Why can I not rejoice with you?
But soon I put the foolish fancy by:
I am not what I have nor what I do;
But what I was I am, I am even I.
III
Therefore myself is that one only thing
I hold to use or waste, to keep or give;
My sole possession every day I live,
And still mine own despite Time's winnowing.
Ever mine own, while moons and seasons bring
From crudeness ripeness mellow and sanitive;
Ever mine own, till Death shall ply his sieve;
And still mine own, when saints break grave and sing.
And this myself as king unto my King
I give, to Him Who gave Himself for me;
Who gives Himself to me, and bids me sing
A sweet new song of His redeemed set free;
he bids me sing: O death, where is thy sting?
And sing: O grave, where is thy victory?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Twisted Rhetoric
You can not tell folks they are nuts!
Not today.
Although their numbers growth,
To be observed in action.
They would rather take opportunities to prove it.
And do it as if someone has turned off their switch.
To leave those impulses once going to the brain...
Detoured to escape out of the ears to go ignored.
And taking that away from them...
The chance for them to prove themselves nuts,
Leaves them to sit longer in denial.
While dropping signs everywhere they can excuse,
With evasive and twisted rhetoric!
And other nonsense that exposes them,
For the morons they are.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without Regret
Saddened memories,
I once held as property.
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
I now reflect,
Without regret.
I know now
Defeats I've met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Those times
Stayed on my mind
For days at a time.
I used that to feed,
My own desperate needing.
I lived with anger and deceit!
I felt those feelings deep,
Within me!
Defeats I have met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
But...
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Who knew,
Like I do now...
When they grew,
Somehow
They would go...
From inside of me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chatterbox
Many say they can deliver,
But only few can receive.
Lips flapping nonstop...
Don't believe!
Ears may be wide open,
But the brain is shut closed.
Ignorance exposed...
Is there to show!
People think they get their blessings,
By listening to a preacher.
Fidgeting and sitting,
While nothing's sinking in.
Schools may hire teachers,
To give lessons to the kids.
But nobody cares,
What's in these quick heads of kids.
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
And 'this' is apparent.
Absent parents on the scene,
Pretending caring done is...their 'thing'.
With chatterbox nonstop...
As if a corn popping machine.
And that caring's not there,
Anywhere to be seen.
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
Chatterbox!
'I do.'
Chatterbox!
'Me too.'
Chatterbox!
'We do...
And, so do you! '
Chatterbox!
'I do.'
Chatterbox!
'Me too.'
Chatterbox!
'We do...
And, so do you! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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