Quicker Than Picked Bananas
Aging!
And showing it quicker than picked bananas,
Are those hanging onto their youthful hopes...
With an inability to disperse from an immaturity.
Clinging onto hopes a cuteness shown can be excused...
Isn't as sick as it looks,
By those exposed to it.
And for those choosing to dismiss this as an acceptance...
Can not one of them explain the presence of an ineptness.
With few people left having a capability to express intelligence.
Or can catch up to adulthood to reasonably be respected.
Since a maturity is nonexistent.
And what is left to spoil and rot quicker than picked bananas,
Is what many people possess and is seen quite a lot.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Bananas & Blow
Sancho brought a message from the Fat Man
"Sorry, boy, to leave you high and dry,
but I went to see my mom in Ensenada,
and I left a little something to help the time go by
Just a little something to help to keep you high"
Bananas & Blow (oh - oh), Bananas & Blow
Stuck in my cabana, living on Bananas & Blow
Now the rainy season reminds me of Maria
The way she danced, the color of her hair
Now I'm locked inside a stall at the cantina
Eating the bananas and the cocaine off the mirror
Looking for a ticket to take me away from here
Bananas & Blow (oh - oh), Bananas & Blow
Stuck in my cabana, living on Bananas & Blow
(guitar solo)
Bananas & Blow (oh - oh), Bananas & Blow
Stuck in my cabana, living on Bananas & Blow
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas And Cream
(Kinky Friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in Pittsburgh, P.A.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas & Cream
(kinky friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in pittsburgh, p.a.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Are Inclined To Split From It Quick
It's okay.
I am fine with it.
I know any intelligence expressed,
Offends quicker than an ignorance
Accepted and not addressed.
I also know that truth sickens and not mends.
A truth spoken for many is considered wicked.
Although deceiving anyone,
Gets a door to open.
And when that door opens with an allowance done,
People do not fear it.
But from the truth they run.
Leaving the one who comes to speak truth,
Ostracized and shunned because it stuns everyone.
It's okay.
I am fine with it.
I know any intelligence expressed,
Offends quicker than an ignorance.
Accepted and not addressed.
And an avoidance of it,
People are inclined to split from it quick.
Intelligence AND common sense?
Those are the two most forbidden mental elements,
People are taught early to be suspicious of their presence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thought And Intelligence
Unfortunately,
One's intelligence used as a means...
To prove a respecting of a thought process,
Would one day catch on as popular to manifest...
Has fizzled quicker than popcorn thrown to pigeons.
A society debating the importance of education...
But not employing the effects of prioritizing its benefits,
Leaves those with high expectations conflicted and confused.
Especially when those who express thought and intelligence,
Are mentally abused and 'accused' of 'thinking' they are 'smart'.
In fact,
There are more people encouraging the act of cheating today...
Just to prove being competent does not require common sense.
Not if the goal is to be seen as successful with abilities to impress.
Unfortunately,
One's intelligence used as a means...
To prove a respecting of a thought process,
Would one day catch on as popular to manifest...
Has fizzled quicker than popcorn thrown to pigeons.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Going Bananas
Hola! ese bato loco!
Im going bananas,
And I feel like my poor little mind is being devoured by piranhas,
For Im going bananas.
Im non compos mentes,
And I feel like a tooth being drilled, a nerve being killed by a dentist,
For Im non compos mentes.
Who knows?
Could be the tropic heat
Or something that I eat,
That makes me gonzo.
I do carry on so, for Im going bananas,
Someone book me a room in the hot haciendo with all my mananas
For Im going bananas.
Im going meshuga
All day long theres a man in my brain incessently playing booga wooga,
But Im going meshuga.
Theres bats in my belfry.
Wont you make sure this straightjackets tight,
Otherwise I might get myself free.
Yes, theres bats in my belfry.
Who knows?
Could be the wine I drink
Or its the way I think,
That makes me gonzo.
Oh, doctor alonzo says Im going bananas,
Someone get me a bed in the casa de loco for all my mananas,
For Im going bananas.
Yes, Im going bananas.
Si, Im going bananas.
song performed by by Madonna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas To The Beat
Chorus:
I go bananas
Bananas to the beat
Le le lee
I mono wayso jambo pe janga poje
Onte myo sobo jo maame jauo peijosau
Kokonipi jao sobo jambo, jambo pomi peso
(chorus)
Kokonipi ous tonko jado jo mousi nindu pou
O seeke ambo pelai kokonipi nai
Kokonipi ous, stono ambou
(chorus)
Eo-o show me ambo jambo, jaambo jomo jo eethu eat
(chorus)
Wojo bomo eso I jo pande beo bou
Sobo I jo postiau do peeta
(chorus)
Mo le le o posi jambo mo le le kompie
Bo le le, bo le le
(chorus)
I go banaanas, wo jo sombi jedo
Bananas to the beat, kwanto be pe io
To the beat
To the beat, cos lobo lobo le jo
To the beat
Bananas to the beat, e jo sambi ebo jo ame
Bananas to the beat
Bananas to the beat, wa pe o sio beo pe tojovlo peo
Bananas to the beat (3x)
Bananas to the beat, hugi oso pai
Bananas to the beat (3x)
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas To The Beat
Chorus:
I go bananas
Bananas to the beat
Le le lee
I mono wayso jambo pe janga poje
Onte myo sobo jo maame jauo peijosau
Kokonipi jao sobo jambo, jambo pomi peso
(chorus)
Kokonipi ous tonko jado jo mousi nindu pou
O seeke ambo pelai kokonipi nai
Kokonipi ous, stono ambou
(chorus)
Eo-o show me ambo jambo, jaambo jomo jo eethu eat
(chorus)
Wojo bomo eso I jo pande beo bou
Sobo I jo postiau do peeta
(chorus)
Mo le le o posi jambo mo le le kompie
Bo le le, bo le le
(chorus)
I go banaanas, wo jo sombi jedo
Bananas to the beat, kwanto be pe io
To the beat
To the beat, cos lobo lobo le jo
To the beat
Bananas to the beat, e jo sambi ebo jo ame
Bananas to the beat
Bananas to the beat, wa pe o sio beo pe tojovlo peo
Bananas to the beat (3x)
Bananas to the beat, hugi oso pai
Bananas to the beat (3x)
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Picked the Right Day for Torture
You picked the right day for torture.
It was too quiet and serene,
To be left untampered.
You wanted your presence felt...
And it was.
You picked the right day for torture
With or without a diet regimen
Or implementation of facts.
What you do behind one's back...
Is left to your interpretation.
Your rules and dispositions are taught!
Although not followed,
And neither held in high esteem.
You picked the right day for torture...
Perhaps now you can see in bright daylight,
The victims you continue to abuse
Are of your own kind.
And of them none can say you frighten.
Yet all have been too quick to say you are crazed!
And today you are here believing you will be praised,
And honored?
You picked the right day for torture!
And how much of it you take...
Will not leave a witness to feel remorse,
Or show heartbreak!
They have come to watch you exploit,
Your own pain!
You have picked the right day for torture!
Everyone came to give you the limelight,
And the fame you claim!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Aint Havana
I had no advantage over you.
There was troubles and I had em too.
Just cause youre so stung out.
Dont mean it cant work out.
Ba-ba-banana, this aint havana.
Do you like bananas, ba-ba-bananas.
Say youre a victim of society.
You ask them for your mercy.
Just like the cats in the garbage cans.
Whens their time coming, man.
You better offer some resistance.
You better give up on my insistence.
Things happen overnight.
You dont give up without a fight.
Ba-ba-banana, this aint havana.
Do yo like bananas, ba-ba-bananas.
You say youre poor and uneducated.
You aint gotta chance cause youre hated.
Youre on your way to lifes promotion.
You hinder it with emotion.
Ba-ba-banana, this aint havana.
Do yo like bananas, ba-ba-bananas.
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such a Massive Waste of Competence
If respect for intelligence,
Was in retrospect respected...
With an acceptance,
Would thoughtlessness...
Beset us with woes?
There is no further need,
To mention the affects of greed.
It is apparent in one's vision...
The precision done by ignorance.
Those who believed they had the answers,
And would not listen...
Have gained positions,
To affliliate themselves with quick fixes.
And decided a leadership,
Would be those hand picked and liked...
For their willingness to follow.
Allowing much grief and sorrow.
With a quickness done of their silent lips.
If respect for intelligence,
Was in retrospect respected...
With an acceptance,
Would thoughtlessness...
Beset us with woes?
Not if those stood strong and opposed...
Such a massive waste of competence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Comes A Time
There comes a time,
When something believed cute done...
Loses its cuteness and begins to irritate.
There comes a time,
When expectations rise above mediocrity.
And the acceptance of those who choose to do,
Mediocre things on a continuous basis...
With a losing of mediocrity as something 'cool'.
And from it there is a backing off,
With a recognition of it too!
There comes a time,
When a rudeness to another done...
Has to be confronted,
By the one who no longer finds this cute!
And a introducing to maturity,
From someone who knows it for what it is...
Does not hesitate to keep it patiently,
In a safe place without it being shown fact to face.
There comes a time,
When one who finds being mature...
Has to offend those who find immaturity,
Difficult for them to escape.
And...
There comes a time,
When those who have lost themselves...
Reciting nursery rhymes with comfort,
With a whining done from their limited minds...
Must be left behind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Procrastination Becomes A Worn Out Vice
There comes a time in everyone's life,
When procrastination becomes a worn out vice...
To depend on to conveniently use,
By those choosing to remain undecisive.
With every excuse to make to delay what is wished.
And aging has a lot to do with this.
Since a 'sunrise' taken for granted...
Seems to speed quicker towards the 'sunset'.
With a caring less who is left to procrastinate,
In a self indulging mental state of regret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bank On Your Love
One lonely eye faces the queen
How far she goes remains to be seen
She can be hard and she knows it
She plays her heart and doesnt show it
Cold night cold like me
No lov elost betting on the king
And its a hard unknown
Before the hand is showing
The con is out when the eagle flies
If you know the hand is quicker than the eye
Can I bank on your love
Hands down left high and dry
Games in the night are quicker than the eye
That aint love or affection
The dealer changed direction
Bets are high and Im losing enough
Wont anybody play fair with my love
cause its hard not knowing
And my heart is showing
The king is out and the eagle flies
Dont you know the hand is quicker than the eye
Can I bank on your love
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome Me, Adulthood
Welcome me, Adulthood, I have ventured
through childhood with all the wonders and dangers in it.
I have placed my childhood fantasies aside,
and picked up hopes of becoming who I want to be.
Embrace me knowledge,
I am ready to know more and add to what I know already.
I have conquered my fear of the night,
now I only fear of becoming nothing.
I have stopped pretending to be what I thought I was going to be,
and realized that I am only what I make of myself.
I have come down from the land of make-believe,
and I have found the strength to believe in me.
So when I come upon you, open your arms,
and welcome me, Adulthood,
for I am headed your way.
poem by Aashka Thakkar
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It Is a Quicker Game
I'm sorry.
But I've grown tired of playing,
Roll over and pretend I'm stupid with you.
Can we play,
Pin the tail on the jackass?
It is a quicker game.
And even blindfolded...
We could invite more people to play with us.
And your chances to always be picked,
Would be limited.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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5. My Bitten Finger
Much bolder than a lion
As crafty as a fox
That little furry hamster
I took home in a box
In the pet shop looking cuddly
Picked quickly didn’t linger
I should have seen the warning signs
When it bit my middle finger
I picked it for its cuteness
Dark brown with bright red eyes
I pointed out the one I’d picked
Imagine my surprise
It reared up where I pointed
Its whiskers started twitching
Then bit into my finger
For sure it needed stitching
The owner thought it funny
I tried to shake it free
This furry little ball of fluff
Had certainly picked me
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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To Pay Particular Attention
A spoiled mixed up brew.
Left to sit to boil hot!
That's what I thought,
Of myself...
A lot!
A life I randomly got.
And not selected.
Not one that was picked,
To witness experiences...
In time I would digest.
And as I grow older,
I am coming to grips with this...
On being 'picked' and 'selected' business.
Realizing a 'randomness' is not the lives we live.
And I am not going to lie...
I do often wonder 'why'?
Since I will admit,
I do test and try my Creator's patience.
In the hopes to be punished...
To pay particular attention,
As to how the Creator goes about...
Inflicting this,
Upon my more aware consciousness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tight Thigh Holders Strapped to Stomach Wraps
One 'chronologically' aging,
In years that clearly appear.
With a slow pacing done.
And the carrying of aches and pains...
As the usual 'identifying' suspects.
Reveals no aspects of an acceptance yet.
And the effects of this...
Has not yet affected a reflected maturity.
None to speak of nor that is obvious.
An awaiting presence of it will not surprise...
In an overnight appearance.
Or come in disguise as an adult,
With wisdom seen in experienced eyes.
Experience, adulthood and maturity...
Sometimes are in conflict.
Many on the threshold of chronologically aging,
With that rapid sagging muscle look...
Are in denial about the process.
And seek to have time stand still...
By displays of irresponsibility.
With needs of centerstage attention.
And praise accompanied by accolades.
'Don't you like attention,
No matter how old you are? '
~Sure.
But I don't crave it.
I just know how and when to get it.
That's the difference.
Some folks 'whine'.
But I don't need to do that to get mine.
I like to think my tactics have been refined.
Without the need for ointments, braces...
Or tight thigh holders strapped to stomach wraps.
Thank God I am still naturally attractive! !
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Extraterrestrials?
The man, in my infancy, who said there were people
on the moon, was laughed at; he was wrong, but not
wrong in thinking there was other life forms on remote
planets. Years ago a big plane got vanished and landed
on the back of the moon where temperature is an even
22 Celsius and there were an abundance of green fruit
that looked like, bananas and nutty tasting blue grass.
Adults missing meat ate each other till there was only
one left, the pilot, and dejected jumped off the moon.
The youthful passengers and children got used to their
surroundings and could cook bananas in fifty variations.
They built caves and decorated them with chairs from
the plane and as beds they used dried banana leaves….
And as time went by the earth became a myth an idea
of paradise lost. This generation of moon dwellers wore
no clothes, what´s point? Only women, on certain dates,
wore dried green skirts. So the man who believed there
was life on the moon may be right after all.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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