En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Pooling From A Tank Of Picked Catches

Pooling from a tank of picked catches,
Examined and tested...
Eliminates second guesses.
And motivates with a boost what is expected,
From that which has been prime selected.

People wanting better know for them what is the best.
And there are those who refuse to accept,
With a getting for themselves...
What the rest can not get,
And...

They're not in line with the others behind the times.
They're not the ones choosing to complain and to whine.
They're not the ones who chose to get nothing done...
Like so many who just lived for fun!

They're not in line with the others behind the times.
They're not the ones choosing to complain and to whine.
They're not the ones who chose to get nothing done...
Like so many who just lived for fun!

Pooling from a tank of picked catches,
Examined and tested...
Eliminates second guesses.
And motivates with a boost what is expected,
From that which has been prime selected.

They're not in line with the others behind the times.
People wanting better know for them what is the best.

They're not the ones choosing to complain and to whine.
And there are those who refuse to accept,
With a getting for themselves...
What the rest can not get,
And...
They're not the ones who chose to get nothing done,
Just to kick around excuses.

They're not in line with the others behind the times.
They're not the ones choosing to complain and to whine.
They're not the ones who chose to get nothing done...
Like so many who just lived for fun.

Like so many who just lived for fun.
Like so many who just lived for fun.
There were others who chose to get things done.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Who Selected What It Was To Be Picked?

The one thing I dislike,
About those who say...
They don't have what they want.
Or have things their way!
When they always seem to be surrounded,
By what exists as they sit to complain about it!

These are my questions...
Who selected what it was to be picked?
And in the picking done...
How many were witnessed,
To be unconscious of this?

And no one wants to admit...
They chose with eyes opened,
The path selected and the consequences.
Unless that too was done,
With an overdoing of pretentiousness.
Many love in the doing but can't remember it.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Felt Inside, Known And Not Hiding

Wholesome expressions delivered,
May be great to hear from podiums raised...
By those speaking from prepared speeches.
To have those listening needing a boost,
With a lifting done coming from roaring cheers.

There is a truth that is lived,
And inescapable it is.
For those who know it is not in disguise,
To eliminate or compromise...
What is felt inside, known and not hiding.

A truth that is lived,
Isn't waiting for the next speech heard.
Or standing in line,
To select from a multitude of choices offered.
A truth lived and once picked becomes one's commitment.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Not Now Of Your Choosing

You can't accept my life is mine
And that those with whom i spend my time
Are now not of your choosing.

You can't accept that different ways
And different ways of spending days
Are not now of your choosing.

You can't accept its not a war
Not like it was those times before
And no-one now is losing.

poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Use To Scuttlebutt

Any time spent evaluating is beneficial.
And taking life for granted,
Is ultimately what one discovers...
During this process.

Time is not on hold and waiting for no one.
Or is it clipping fingernails to improve the look,
Of its hands!
They move forward,
That's it!

Many sit and wish their lives were different,
Than the ones they lived yesterday.
When they were sitting wishing their lives,
Were different than they were...
When those yesterdays came to then go away.

The problem with most people...
Being real with themselves!
And detest others who are!

Listen to those who complain closely.
It is either someone or something done...
That comes between them,
And what it is they wish to do.
Rarely is it that those who make attempts,
Have the time to whine or dine to then say to another...
'I know I shouldn't have done that!
I can't afford to gain one more pound.'

People lie to themselves.
And listening to those who complain closely...
They will excuse what they do to repeat what they've done.
And protest about it when they are denied.
To then get upset,
When someone chooses to walk away from them...
And the nonsense they have prioritized,
To use to scuttlebutt!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

If These Times Lived Did Not Exist

May these times lived,
Be those times we now live in...
With the acknowledgement,
That if these times lived did not exist...
There would be no other times like these,
Experienced to say...
They have come to us to be witnessed,
Like this.
To enjoy to disagree in argument.
Or observe the necessity of conflict.
If these times for us lived did not exist...
How many can honestly say,
They awaken each day prepared to resist...
Such a majestic blessing many do not appreciate.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Truths Dismissed

Chasing impossibilities.
Like a change to redo,
And replace yesterdays' activities.
Has come to be embraced,
By those retrieving memories...
With hopes to see them,
'Specifically' retraced...
To have the times from them now lived,
Erased!

Chasing impossibilities,
Are those in grief with disbelief...
Each moment existing,
Had approval as they witnessed...
The unfolding of reality.

And it is the reality many wish to change.
Many can not accept,
Expressions of indifference...
Delivers consequences.
No matter what is claimed.

That which is observed,
And passes an acceptance by silent lips...
Is not going to suddenly vanish,
Because some find a tolerance...
Over a time that has allowed its growth,
People then indifferent...
Now whine it upsets and makes them sick.

Chasing impossibilities.
Like a change to redo,
And replace yesterdays' activities.
Has come to be embraced,
By those retrieving memories...
With hopes to see them,
'Specifically' retraced...
To have the times from them now lived,
Erased!

Goodluck to those now awakening,
To truths dismissed.
And finding themselves upset by this.
Wanting answers to questions...
And more time to reminisce,
Those times gone never again for them to exist.

Goodluck to those now awakening,
To truths dismissed.
And finding themselves upset by this.
Wanting answers to questions...
And more time to reminisce,
Those times gone never again for them to exist.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

slUmdOg's cHase for liFe

Born with nothing, marked by poverty
Lived like a dog, treated impatiently and unhuman,
Discrimination received, mocks from the upper kind
Until when and where will they run?

Run, your kind, run!
Fill your stomach, battle hard for survival,
You, who's surrounded by other's greed
Whom you will seek for help?

Trusted no one but yourself
You chose to chase life on what you know is best,
The aftermath of what you chose will give you rest!

poem by InNer WhisPers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Publicity Given Some Wish Not To Receive

I'm not here to want or wish for less.
I am here to do those deeds I can.
And at my best.

I did not arrive to sit and wait to take.
I came to give and share.
With others who are tested,
Who choose not to feud.
Or 'do' something just to see what they get.

I'm not here to want or wish for less.
I am here to do those deeds I can.
And at my best.
With a desire to do this without protest.
Knowing I am not the only one,
Doing this alone.
Publicity given some wish not to receive.

Often those that do,
Whine and complain a lot too!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Alternatives

Wouldn't it be nice,
If others did what we liked.
With a taking of advice,
To do what it was.
We chose and approved.

No one then would be offended.
And everyone would live as we wished.
No one would have a need to defend,
A life like this,
In an unquestioned bliss.

But realities as they are,
Have many in conflict.
Those with certain beliefs,
Refuse to comprehend.
Why their perceptions are not adopted.

And those who express they accept alternatives,
Are the ones despised.
Because their lives lived like this,
Has delivered a happiness!
And for many that happiness for them does not exist.

Wouldn't it be nice,
If others did what we liked.
With a taking of advice,
To do what it was.
We chose and approved.
With a doing done we too.
Would not find the time to debate and argue.

Wouldn't it be nice,
If others did what we liked.
And isn't it wonderful.
To know we can be ignored.
To then share in the receiving.
Others exchange from their adventures explored.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

There Is a Felt Loneliness Connected

Too weak to weep again.
Or brave new insults made...
Heard before but nonetheless,
Can never replace a life lived dealt...
From a deck selected,
To represent the life I've been given.

There is a felt loneliness connected,
When it is expected one should accept...
Being in a public arena and getting little respect.

There is a felt neglect when one becomes an object.
And becomes subjected to negativity mentioned,
By those claiming to be close...
And those unsuspecting,
Very few come supportive with an emotional boost.

Too weak to weep again.
Or brave new insults made...
Heard before but nonetheless,
Can never replace a life lived dealt...
From a deck selected,
To represent the life I've been given.
But live I do and done at my best.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I am your Flower

a beautiful flower waved in the wind
bent with the breeze.
you came along, and, noticed it.
stooping down to kneel in the dirt,
you examined its petals
felt its delicate leaves.
you picked the flower,
broke its roots,
and placed its unchained stem into your clasped hand.

you carried the flower with you
showed it to friends, acquaintances,
made everyone take notice
of the beauty you found.
and strangely enough,
this flower did not wilt,
but remained strongly vibrant
in its glass of water
as you carefully attended to it.

yet as the year continued,
you worried and wondered
if maybe your choosing of this flower hurt it.
was it meant to be connected with the earth?
should you have stood and turned away
without choosing this flower
and picking it up for your own?
was your breaking of the stem a mistake?
should you have left it?

these questions filled your mind.
yet your flower remained vibrant and strong
in her glass of water.
confined, no, now free.
and freedom brings its own nourishment.
nourishment that cannot be found
attached to the ground.
you chose the flower above the rest,
and picked her to be yours.

will you keep me?
you have freed me.
my glass of water is refreshing.
your hand clasping my stem is enough
for me to stay and choose you
above the sun, more than the soil,
i cannot wilt if you take care of me as you have.
for a broken stem and a chosen flower
cannot be returned.

i must be kept or left to die.

poem by Lors Dilouley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In His Eyes! And Ours

Times then were lived,
Within our means.
We valued being clean.
Respected as expected.
This is what everyone did without neglect.
And embraced hygiene!
This was a fact of life known and seen!

Sold on concepts of a desire to learn.
Wanting to comprehend lessons taught...
That broadened our lives with a competitiveness.
With a fear of limits ignorance welcomed.
And we then wished no part of this.
We sought to grow.
And this assisted with an identity dignity presented.

Times then were lived within our means.
To deceive...
Was then thought to be despicable.
To cheat and lie about it,
Did not excite or sit well...
With those who suffered through the consequences,
Of their ways that dismayed.

Today...
People talk the 'walk' but do not walk the talk.
People say they have good intentions.
But leave no evidence of it seen.

Today...
People talk about their standards and values.
As if this is held in an exclusiveness.
And a membership is required for this to be addressed.

Today...
People are obsessed with their possessions.
Their good credit scores and loans they can obtain.
Because they have maintained status given,
Although they keep blemishes hidden...
That may reveal their tainted names.
And they cheat.
Lie.
And deceive!
With lifestyles lived well above their means.

And yet,
When suspected...
Nothing about them is respected.
Nor do the judgements they pass on others...
Keep tax collectors from locking them out,
From foreclosed homes they bragged about.
OR...
Do they 'today' have the means to feed, protect
Or shelter themselves,
In peace.

Times we lived then,
Were lived within our means.
And we were taught to be grateful.
To feel we were blessed.
And we should express this to God.
On a daily basis kept routined!
Like promises we made to ensure we had good hygiene.
And then God...
And only God,
Will make sure our lives lived were lived right!
In His eyes!
And ours.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Cherry, Cherry Coupe

Go cherry, cherry coupe now
The wildest short around is my cherry, cherry coupe
Its the sharpest thing in town and the envy of my group
Its one of its kind and it really looks good
Chopped nose and deck with louvers on the hood
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
Chrome reversed rims with whitewall slicks
And it turns a quarter mile in one oh six
Door handles are off but you know Ill never miss em
They open when I want with the cellunoid system
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
My coupes tuck and roll underneath the hood
And the rugs, seats, and panels now are looking good
When I go looking for something to do
Shes got enough room now to barely seat two
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Empty Handed

You chose to draw the line
And look where we landed
We had a pocket of full of sunshine
Yet, we came back
Empty handed

You and I,
We had our share,
The good times we had
Now it's time,
To let go,
Time to say goodbye
And the end always
Makes me sad

Why did you have to go?
That is something
I'm sure I can't ever know
Love got overshadowed,
As we fed our ego

You chose to draw the line
And look where we landed
We had a pocket full of sunshine
Yet, we came back
Empty handed

poem by Zubayer Zakir Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

We Complain

We complain
When in other countries people are in pain
We complain
And on the other side, conditions are inhumane
We complain
Many people want to ascertain

I don't eat cheese
While in other countries people die of disease
I don't want to clean my room
While many people starve just wanting food to consume
My mom just gave me 50 dollars and thats not enough
In different places people can't even pay for rent; life is tough

We complain
Many people, their life they can't sustain
Parents their kids they can't maintain
On Christmas people can't even buy a candy cane
People feeling like they're drowning in acid rain
And we complain

People out there who can't even afford to watch an ad campaign
People hiding on the streets because of shame
Because themselves are the ones to blame
Many things they detain
People out there who wish they were slain
People who wear the same clothes with the same little stain

People sleeping out in the rain
People who have given up and just start to cut their vein
When some people work and get their paycheck, they feel nothing they gain
Without insurance they gotta be careful because there's nothing they can sprain
Many people like in Africa have nothing to eat, not even a little grain...
And we complain

poem by Bianca Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Must I Complain, O God, I Pray?

When you made me by love thine,
And called me sweetly by my name,
And wrote it in your palm divine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?

When you chose me for job fine,
And gave me breath in special way,
And made me walk on earth, ravine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?

When you led me through hill, vale,
And desert, plain, seasons umptine,
And kept me safe through flood and hale,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?

When you watched o'er me night, day,
And fed, clothed, sheltered me all life,
And held me by right hand en way,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?

When you suffered, died on cross,
And resurrected on third day,
And wait for me with Father Boss,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?

When you are Almighty God,
And love to see my soul back pure,
And fair in judgment, just in rod,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Must I complain, O God, I pray?

Fondly dedicated to my dear elder sister,
Miss. Noeline Mary Clemencia BSc., B.T.,
On her birthday today
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-02-'12

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Whinin' Boy Moan

Van Morrison
Exile Publishing Ltd / Universal Music Publishing Ltd
Drop that coin right into the slot
Get it whether you're ready or not
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well they call him Mr. Jellyroll
It's just the way he rolls his dough
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Cos he can do it better, better than anyone else
Whine, whine, whine, whine
All the winos down on Market Street
Roll on over to old North Beach
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well he gonna sing and play for you
Exactly what he's s'pposed to do
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Whine, whine, whine
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Cos he can do it better, better than anyone else

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Choosing Losses As Their Gains

Too many...
People.
Too many...
Accept life to grieve.
Too many...
Wear their heartaches,
On wet sleeves.

Too many...
In anger.
Too many...
Show hurt and pain.
Too many...
Unsatisfied,
And complain.

Choosing losses as their gains.

And somewhere inside,
They have hidden all their pride.
And the tears flow like rain,
From their eyes.

The Sun comes to shine.
But it's blocked from their minds.
And they welcome the clouds,
Like lost friends.

And the storms on them descend!

Too many...
People.
Too many...
Accept life to grieve.
Too many...
Wear their heartaches,
On wet sleeves.

Too many...
In anger.
Too many...
Show hurt and pain.
Too many...
Unsatisfied,
And complain.

Choosing losses as their gains.

And somewhere inside,
They have hidden all their pride.
And the tears flow like rain,
From their eyes.

The Sun comes to shine.
But it's blocked from their minds.
And they welcome the clouds,
Like lost friends.
This has to end.

Since this,
Unhappiness...
Can't be a choice,
One lives!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

You Made Me Choose

it was a case of choosing
a stone, a snail, a hammer

i chose the hammer
just that
i never used it to drive a nail
to smash a snail
to break a stone

i chose the hammer and kept it
just that
i left it in the house
(bought a house five years ago)
i walked away
and then i whistled my way
in the woods

just that

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Chose Hope

I chose to hope again today
To believe in beauty,
In sunsets,
In the rain

I chose to laugh again
To dream,
To dance
And to sing with abandonment

I chose joy instead of despair
Smiles instead of many tears
Colors replaced the dull
And a rainbow filled my vision

When all around me I could not see
And when the coffee was toxin in my blood
When the world was full of trouble and nothing else
I chose hope

Hope discovered,
For a while undecided
Hope now declared
Hope

I chose to dream of a better day
To wish for things unseen
To search for the unimaginable

I chose to place my hope above
Hope not in mans strength or ability
Not in political systems,
in racial tribalisms,
in ethnic loyalties

Birthed out of a love that endures all things,
I chose hope that never fails
Hope for today and hope for tomorrow
I chose hope

poem by Jessica Nobubele Frame
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!