Stumps on Corner Dumps
If she wasn't working,
He wasn't there.
And 'if' he was there...
It was the first of every month.
Chumps and ball handlers.
Stumps on corner dumps.
To define them as punks...
Would defend them as spineless men.
She's been led to believe,
That man independent...
Not needing a woman to feed his needs,
Just has to be 'that way'.
You know...
Limped wrist and gay.
And she and her girlfriends,
When they sit at the bars...
Talking about themselves,
For hours and hours.
And who is not a man...
Doing what a man can!
They get up and leave...
To tweak each other's needs.
With a tweaking done to please.
She's been led to believe,
That man independent...
Not needing a woman to feed his needs,
Just has to be 'that way'.
You know...
Limped wrist and gay.
If she wasn't working,
He wasn't there.
And 'if' he was there...
It was the first of every month.
Chumps and ball handlers.
Stumps on corner dumps.
To define them as punks...
Would defend them as spineless men.
But who is left in the household...
To encourage, raise and discipline them?
And she and her girlfriends,
When they sit at the bars...
Talking about themselves,
For hours and hours.
And who is not a man...
Doing what a man can!
They get up and leave...
To tweak each other's needs.
With a tweaking done to please.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In the beginning, it wasn't even a question of deciding I'm going to do independent film and not commercial films - I wasn't being offered any commercial films, and there wasn't an independent scene.
quote by Steve Buscemi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is Not a Ride That Glides
Ceasing feasting that increased,
A decreasing of most things...
Meant to many giving up false bling!
And showy shining flashing flings.
Lucky people who've striked out,
From a crowning top that slipped to drop...
Have come to a screeching stop.
With designer boots now knocking rocks.
But life is not a ride that glides.
And those that recognize this,
Have not gone into tantrums.
Or thrown fits.
Life is not a ride that slides into a glide.
Some rumps fall onto bumps that stump.
With a struggle not for chumps,
That disguises getting over humps.
Lucky people who've striked out,
From a crowning top that slipped to drop...
Have come to a screeching stop.
With designer boots now knocking rocks.
Ceasing feasting that increased,
A decreasing of most things...
Meant to many giving up false bling!
And showy shining flashing flings.
But life is not a ride that glides.
And those that recognize this,
Have not gone into tantrums.
Or thrown fits.
No life is not a ride that slides into a glide.
Some rumps fall onto bumps that stump.
With a struggle not for chumps,
That disguises getting over humps.
Life is not a ride that slides into a glide.
Some rumps hit a bump that stumps...
And many get up and out of those dumps!
Life is not a ride that slides into a glide.
Some rumps hit a bump that stumps...
And many get up and out of those dumps!
Life is not a ride that slides into a glide.
Some rumps hit a bump that stumps...
And many get up and out of those dumps!
Life is not a ride that glides from side to side.
Some rumps hit a bump that stumps...
And many get up and out of those dumps!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Isa Nutter
Doc Meyers said I had satyriasis,
And Doc Hill called it leucaemia --
But I know what brought me here:
I was sixty-four but strong as a man
Of thirty-five or forty.
And it wasn't writing a letter a day,
And it wasn't late hours seven nights a week,
And it wasn't the strain of thinking of Minnie,
And it wasn't fear or a jealous dread,
Or the endless task of trying to fathom
Her wonderful mind, or sympathy
For the wretched life she led
With her first and second husband --
It was none of these that laid me low --
But the clamor of daughters and threats of sons,
And the sneers and curses of all my kin
Right up to the day I sneaked to Peoria
And married Minnie in spite of them --
And why do you wonder my will was made
For the best and purest of women?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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After a month or so in St. Louis, we were looking around desperately for a way to draw a few people into the ball park, it being perfectly clear by that time that the ball club wasn't going to do it unaided.
quote by Bill Veeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was younger, my whole sense of self-worth was based on whether or not I was working, which was awful. And I had a baby at 20 years old, so it wasn't just about me. At around the age of 30 there was a stretch where I wasn't working - certainly not on anything I liked, anyway - and I started to do other things.
quote by Kiefer Sutherland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Was How I Remember And That’s Not How It Was
It may have been Classic, yet not elegant
It may have been Love, yet not romantic
It may have been hidden, yet not unforeseen
Yet none came to you
It was my brother’s irreplaceable companion and his little sister
It was my brother’s incredulity and his greatest suspicion
It was my brother’s settlement and his authorization
Yet none came to you
It wasn’t my dream and it wasn’t my fantasy
It wasn’t my concern and it wasn’t my guarantee
It wasn’t my content and it wasn’t my sorrow
It may have been my mother’s hope, yet not her premonition
And now its my animosity
Last Dance
Wake up! its a monday morning
No time left to say goodbye
Cant breathe and the lights are changing.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
Headlights, make it home by sundown
Feeling that the day is through
Return back to where you come from
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
You wake up in the mornin
And the suns comin up.
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And hours and hours and hours
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And you light up the stove
And the coffee cup, its hot.
And the orange juice is cold, cold, cold
Monday morning,
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
Its time to go,
Time to go to work.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
No, no, no.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many What If’s And More
What if Cinderella wasn’t a princess
But the advertiser of a new flavored jellybean
What if Snow White wasn’t pretty
But the ugliest hag ever seen
What if soccer wasn’t a game
But a new kind of disease
What if an oven isn’t used for warming food
But to make them freeze
What if tom wasn’t a cartoon
But a new mechanical device
That help cats in catching mice
Get very quick and wise
What if Jerry wasn’t a mouse
But another name for cherry
What if a mountain wasn’t mountain
But a new kind of berry
What if shoes weren’t used on feet
But to help us see
What if I wasn’t myself
I wonder who’d write this instead of me!
poem by Risha Ahmed
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And You...?
every month
my womanhood gets
thrown into the dustbin
at the street corner
every month
my womanhood
gets flushed out
in the water closet
month after month
i revive as a woman
i'm re-born as a woman
to nourish and nurture you
you say i need
to be a woman
to understand
what a man feels
and you?
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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What Else Ahead of Us Is Next?
I wasn't looking for love.
I wasn't looking for 'you'...
That's for sure!
But...
When our eyes met,
In the way that 'our' eyes met...
We both knew what that feeling was between us.
We both knew what that feeling meant.
What Else Ahead Of Us Is Next?
And for seconds we let it linger.
As if 'forever' came to not forget.
I was not looking for love.
Especially at that time of the day.
And under the circumstances.
We were at work and not at play.
It wasn't a setting for where love should be.
The humidity was high...
And we both were inside,
Sitting amongst others...
Preparing to eat,
Escaping from a Summer heat.
You with other obligations.
And me...
Determined to stay single.
For the rest of my life...
I expected to be.
We were all talking!
And suddenly our eyes...
From opposite ends of a table,
It then 'happened' as if secretly.
THERE.
Our eyes met each other,
And 'there' those feelings we both had...
Knew what it was instantly.
I wasn't looking for love.
I wasn't looking for 'you'...
That's for sure!
But...
When our eyes met,
I did not regret it.
But...
When our eyes met,
There was love understood.
And you and I both let it...
Be!
With a knowing we,
Fell in love magically.
And now...
What on Earth will we choose,
To do...
Next?
Meet discreetly,
To share our passion and sex?
What Else Ahead Of Us Is Next?
I wasn't looking for love.
I wasn't looking for 'you'...
That's for sure!
But...
When our eyes met,
In the way that 'our' eyes met...
What else ahead of us is next?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Invitation To Tea (A Dark Comedy) Part 1
Charles Latimer visited the corner shop run by the Forbes sisters Charlotte and Grace almost every day. He could have collected his groceries in one visit, but the short intercourse of words they exchanged broke the emptiness in his life. As he entered the shop, the tiny bell above the door chimed.
Grace Forbes stood behind the counter. “Good morning Mr Latimer, ” she said. “What would you like today? ”
Good morning, Grace. I’ve written out a small list. My needs are not many as you know.” He replied and smiled.
“I’m surprised you never married. You would have made some lucky woman a wonderful husband.”
Charles Latimer felt his cheeks warm. “Would it be all right to leave the list and pick up my groceries later? ”
“Of course. Why, have you got a date with someone? ”
“In a manner of speaking. I feed the pigeons in the park every morning about this time. I must be going now.”
“We’ll have your groceries ready by the time you get back.”
“Thank you, ” he said, turned, and left.
Grace watched him leave. A sad unpretentious man whose clothes always seemed a size too large.
“Grace who were you talking to? ” Her sister asked entering the shop.
“Our Mr. Latimer, Charlotte. He has left a list.”
“It is a shame he never married.”
“Yes. He wasn’t fortunate to be blessed with a brother or sister neither. Such a same.”
“Maybe we should introduce him to Mr Potter.”
“I don’t think so. Not after the trouble we had with him after Mr Armad’s visit.”
“That is because he wasn’t English. Mr Potter doesn’t like foreigners. He found Mr Small and Mr Cummings quite agreeable, didn’t he? ”
“Yes.”
“He is bound to like Mr Latimer.” Charlotte smiled. “Now we must put up his groceries for him.”
To be continued…
poem by David Harris
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You saved me....
I walked down a endless black tunnel.
I gave up hope and I gave up looking.
I wasn't truly happy.
I wore fake smiles.
There wasn't much reason for me to go to school.
I would walk for hours.
Hours turned to days.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks turned to months of walking in my lonely despair.
After a few months I began to see light.
When i surfaced you were the first one to catch my attention.
You pulled me out.
You made me happy.
You gave me reason to go to school.
You brought me out of my lonely despair.
And for that I thank you, and I will love you till the end of time maybe even longer.
poem by Kendra Swan
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2 Weeks
14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone
poem by Marcellus Watts
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I Wasn't The One
Your eyes and my eyes haven't talked in quite a while
Seems like a lifetime since i walked beside your smile
There's a dark cloud that's hanging above
Memories never lie
Still we talk about the way that it was
And i think we both know the feeling hasn't died
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
And i won't be the one to say that we can't try
Da da
Your touch and my touch haven't spoken for some time
You say we've both changed and your always on my mind
I can tell you that it's over and done but i would only lose
Being close to the want that i want
So go on and ask me if i'm still in love with you
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
And i won't be the one to say that we can't try
Da da
There was no need for you to ask - please don't ask
You oughta know by now, ooo babe, i want you back
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fa
You too, rich enabler, have slid into the gray of memory
with no captions and no forwarding address
convincing us that most lives lived before the fall of such
are mere decorations of themselves and therefore waste;
that only in life lived 'round the corner, in vacuity,
is truth, (always what we define it) makeable, so valid,
anyway, and truly affordable.
Still and all, of legacies chary, we've got to pay the bills.
We are well-worn trails, drinking small, Dutch beers from
styrofoam cups one could have predicted. Now what is
Truth, ducky? And whose shall we moon-like, reflect-
decide after hours of thinking isn't? Gone enabler, I am
yours: was, wasn't, year by year, am and am not, taking and
forfeiting crystalline youth, so hail you, dear, and farewell.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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I Wasn't The One (Who Say Goodbye)
Your eyes and my eyes haven't talked in quite a while
Seems like a lifetime since I walked beside your smile
There's a dark cloud that's hanging above
Memories never lie
Still we talk about the way that it was
And I think we both know the feelings haven't died
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
And I won't be the one to say that we can't try
Da Da
Your touch and my touch haven't spoken for some time
You say we've both changed and your always on my mind
I can tell you that it's over and done but I would only lose
Being close to the one that I want
So go on and ask me if I'm still in love with you
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
And I won't be the one to say that we can't try
Da Da
There was no need for you to ask - please don't ask
You oughta know by now, ooo babe, I want you back
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
I wasn't the one who said goodbye, oh no
I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not There
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
He was the kind to prioritize
His own affairs.
Often he was defended...
By a mother who pretended,
He was just away on 'leave'
And will return when that purpose ended!
But those in his care,
Felt he was the one not aware.
He was not there...
And that is all they knew!
Unless he was a magician?
And 'that' he wasn't around,
To deny or prove!
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
To watch,
Or to lay...
A footprint down on the ground!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In the years since I worked with John Hughes, there were many years where I literally had hundred of doors slammed in my face because I wasn't that kid anymore, and I wasn't a character actor, and I wasn't a leading man, and I wasn't whatever Hollywood was looking for.
quote by Anthony Michael Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Moment Felt Kept Precious
In these hours now,
With every moment felt kept precious.
I've become more sensitive to your needs.
With a satisfaction I am able to feed them.
In these hours now.
In these hours now,
With every moment felt kept precious.
Simple talks and quiet walks I welcome.
Leaving complexities and what they could be,
Left...
Alone.
Wanting us to be more honest with an openness.
Are wishes like this I am glad we witness and condone.
To know our love has never roamed.
And just as strong as steel and stone!
In these hours now!
And every moment felt kept precious...
In a respectfulness that has survived,
Through sour times.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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