En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Such Compassionate Humility

'I admit to those times of being vane,
AND guilty.
But...
Not in recent memory.'

The same game played,
No matter what season it may be...
Will be played by the 'users'
Expressing the same mindless philosophy.
With only one agenda.
And that is to score!

With an intent,
To keep those prepared losing excuses...
At a hopeful distance.

Even the one who wins...
Has a determination,
From the beginning that does not end...
Speaks!
With such compassionate humility.

'Was it as good to you,
As it was for me...
To receive, give 'and' teach? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Have No Idea How Deeply I Love

I will give you the shirt off my back.
The shoes off my feet.
Even my last dollar,
I need desperately.
I am compassionate to a fault.

And I will be guilty,
That I admit.

But show me any indication,
You can treat me with continued...
Indignation.
And I will freeze up on you,
As if you have awakened for a long visit...
At the North Pole.

And I will be guilty,
That I admit.

If 'ever' you decide,
You want to test what I've got inside...
Be prepared to shiver.
Because to you will be a cold breeze,
From me I will be quick to deliver.
You have no idea how deeply I love!

And I will be guilty,
That I admit.

I have been taught,
By the best of teachers!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Users United

Played sensitivities,
Have played out...
For those who do it.

Users united,
Have become identified and busted.
And thrown out in the cold,
By those who have not been sold...
Such creatures who leech,
Are givers who reach out...
With unquestionable integrity.

Marketing that has been their difficulty.

Played sensitivities,
Have played out...
For those who do it.

Abusers who use others for what they have.
Appear upon the scene,
When something taken is to be had.

And caring less what is taken is the last thing left.
Users united,
Have become identified and busted.
Leaving nothing behind them but feelings of disgust.
And those who have been repeatedly stung...
Believing there is no one left on Earth for them to trust.

Played sensitivities,
Have played out...
For those who do it.

And those who do it,
Do it to satisfy their own selfish lusts!
Users united...
Have no rights to exercise.
Or lives lived to maximized,
Their sights upon others to deplete.

As if a completed act of leeching,
Is a bittersweet taste that is welcomed...
With open arms one seeks to greet and meet.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Distant friends

Once the friends we were,
We laughed together, we cried together,
We played together, we dreamt together,
We enjoyed good times together, we overcame the bad times together.

Now that we live miles away,
I think of you, think of our times together,
Should distance ever matter?
Because you are in my heart forever.

Sometimes when I feel lonely,
I get swept away by the memory of your friendship,
You were a friend in need, a friend indeed,
You made my nightmare and sorrows vanish with ease.

When you were near, I never said how good friend you were,
Even now from a distance, I don't need words to describe it,
The language of friendship is not words, but its meanings,
It is a feeling which does not require explaining.

poem by Jay P Narain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lame Game

It's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
It's all the same...
A lame game!

It's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
And the game
Being played...
Is so lame!

It's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
It's all the same.
A lame game!

It's all the same,
When a game is played lame,
And the game being played
By the players who play...
Is so tired and lame anyway!

And lame it will stay everyday!

'Cause they 'got no' shame
To play such tired games
Knowing it's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
And the game stays the same
'Cause no one wants to change
From a game that is lame..
And each day that lame game,
Stays the same!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Oldest Game Played

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

Initiating disturbances,
And claiming to be victimized...
Is decreasing in its effectiveness.
People finally are opening their eyes.

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

They begin with pretense to befriend someone.
Like the smile of a demon,
To ensure its welcome.
And then to make claims...
Of something despicable the innocent one has done,
To then defame and assassinate good character...
With a perception that success,
Is soon to be won!

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

Those 'Woe is me I don't know what happened' facades...
Are being stripped away for what they are.
Those who deceive and lie,
With pity party invitations...
Have devastated friendships and relationships,
Behind masqueraded false faces.

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

'Why would they lie like that?
Deceive and create conflict? '

~What is it that you have they might perceive,
As a value to them? ~

'Well...
Nothing I haven't with them shared.'

~They did not want it shared!
They wanted it theirs.~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I played in Joe Louis in a playoff game. I played there when the roof caved in for half a season. The facility is great for basketball because it goes straight up, so you feel like the fans are on top of you.

quote by Bill Laimbeer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hookey Rookie

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

I asked myself if that did...benefit?
What I did.
And who was with me.
Nothing that was done then was a fit.
No one would give.
And being played in the streets today...
Some say ain't easy!
I left it done and behind me, to forget.

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

Yes...
And you can teach me.
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

Just for nookie.
I played hookey!
Just a rookie,
Gettin' nookie!
Missing you...
My Cookie!

You can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in time before.

Said you can teach me...
Like I never ever had been taught in timebefore.
'Cause before I met you, baby...
I played hookey!

Just for nookie.
I played hookey!
Just a rookie.
Gettin' nookie!

Just a rookie.
Gettin' nookie!
A hookey rookie getting nookie,
Missing Cookie

Just rookie getting nookie,
Missing Cookie

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you played the game the right way, played the game for the team, good things would happen.

quote by Ryne Sandberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The one game we all play

The one game we all play

We play games
To show our valour
And mainly to win

We do not mind going for coaching
If we feel we do not have the
Required strength to win

We play games
Either as a team or individual
The attempt is to demonstrate
That we are better talented
Than the team or member
Against whom we play

Nations enthuse people to play games
So that they add pride

Some games are played with
Gadgets and protective accessories

We have spectators to watch
The way we play
We have umpires and referees
Who ensure rules of the games
Are strictly adhered
And it is all a fair play

We play games indoor or outdoor
We play games in daylight
Or under artificial illumination

We score while playing
And the score achieved by a team or individual
In a specific time
Decides the winner

We telecast the games
We comment on the strengths and weaknesses
Of a team or individual

We conduct national and international
Tournaments to declare a team or individual
As champion

Irrespective of skills, race, gender
We all play a game
Which is played mainly to lose
It is an individual game
With no specific rules
With no umpire
With no spectator
With no commentator
With no TV coverage
With no scores
With no trophies
With no victory stands
With no top scorer
With no “player of the match”
But we play

Most of us like to play this game
Indoor and in closed doors
Decency and civilized ways
Do not allow this game being played in the open

There is no season for this game
It can be played any part of the day
And any part of the year
Summer, winter, monsoon seasons
Have no bearing on this game

The one requirement in this game is
Complete transparency and intimacy

Rules for this game
Vary from individual to individual
Rules also get refined
With the experience of the players

There are no restrictions to employ
Any method as both the players
Are determined to be the loser

Duration of play depends again
On the individuals

The game ends
Most often to the satisfaction
Of the both the players

In other games players declare
That they are retiring from playing
There is no retirement in this game
As players advance in age
They understand it is more a mind game

Outcome of this game
Are further more players

You guessed it right
It is the game of love

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The reason I am here, they tell me, is that I played the game a certain way, that I played the game the way it was supposed to be played.

quote by Ryne Sandberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Play Entirely By Yourself

You've created a game you play entirely by yourself.
Is this something done consciously?
Is this a game played with me you believe I can't see?

You've created a game you play entirely by yourself.
At first I thought you were sincere and honest.
I did not suspect you to be,
Someone who played with others emotionally.
I did not detect this from you at all.
Until you would say disrespectful things,
When I would think of you and place a telephone call.

I did not suspect you to be,
Insensitive and distant when you chose to be.
And had no regard for the feelings of others...
Until I caught you embellishing,
Something you did for someone claimed...
When I was the one who did it,
And you didn't mention me by name.

You've created a game you play entirely by yourself.
Is this something done consciously?
Is this a game played with me you believe I can't see?
Or is it that you are that experienced,
And the game you play and have created...
Only to you when implemented makes sense.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Game

It is a game
Between you and me
And it is fact
We both loose
And admit defeat
And we both enjoy
by selfdeclaration
We won.

It is a game
And it can not be
Explained as before
We both responsible
For any loopholes
And become fools
It is a game
We are in shame
It is not being
Played and nobody
Can say successful.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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We Are That Game to Be Played

Against the tremendous magnitude,
Of 'this' part of the universe...
We will continuously pursue,
With persistence...
The insignificance of our existence.
To create a self importance.
Instead of enjoy with a caring,
What we now could share.
Before a nothingness of this experiment,
Goes away to replenish...
What was here before we came!
A feeding of a cosmos...
Determine to remain the same.
Allowing us to exist!
And not 'IT' as we insist!
We are that game to be played.
Not 'IT' to play to change.
No matter 'what' or 'who' we call upon to pray.
We are the game played!
And it is not the other way.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winners From The Very Beginning

They were all dealt from the same deck.
And played their cards,
Accordingly.
Doing those things they believed were correct.
And whispering over their shoulders,
How they would win over others.

None of the players suspected,
They were being played and used.
None of the players suspected,
They were being used and abused.

And thoese they 'assumed'
Had losing hands.
Because they seemed to have lives,
Bombarded with obstacles.
Actually were the winners from the very beginning,
Because they were the ones...
The dealer had chose.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I want my testimony to stand on that point. But I would point out that Zona Research Inc. showed we have increased market share among business users, educational users, and government users over the past several months - and that's more recent than the IDC report.

quote by Jim Barksdale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Weekend Blues Session

Three days and three nights
playing the guitar blues of life
my mind and body taken back

I can see
the old streets and the seats
where the blues players of old
used to meet

They'd sing of the pain
and the hate
and we'd respect what they
had to say

All these memories coming back
as we played for the times
when blues was our life

We played for the joy
we played for our minds
we played for our souls
we played until the monday morning blues

poem by Dave Alan Walker
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No Man No Cry

No man, no cry
No man, no cry
Ive had enough of all your lies
And all your silly games
Im running out
Cant you see what youre doing?
I never ever thought that youd treat me so cruel
But you proved me wrong and now you know Im just a fool
Dont keep me guessing always stressing all the time
You want a play this game, true love is hard to find
And if I walk there wont be no more comin back
In fact youll be missing this wish
You should be kissin this
Baby check my rhyme
No man, no cry
No man thats all right
No we wont be played
Listen all you ladies cos the babes are takin over this place
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
Were here to tell you fellas that the babes are takin over your place
Im feeling angry by the way you that you treat me lately
Do you see me as some fool, remember what Im worth boy
No disrespecting me or upsetting me with talk or this ladys gonna walk
And wile Im thinking baby, tell me what did you do
Just interrupt goof times that should have been with my crew
I bring you down when I tell your boys
I wont be sitting here now waiting for your call
I aint some littel girl baby you know the score
Dont want to feel like Im not the only one
Baby you did me wrong
Im not your bitch
Dont trip - Im movin on
No man, no cry
No man pass on by
No we wont be played
Listen all you ladies cos the babes are takin over this place
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
Were here to tell you fellas that the babes are takin over your place
Im movin on
I said Im movin on
Im movin on and on, on
Movin on, movin on, movin
On, on, on
Said Im movin on
No man, no cry
No man thats all right
No we wont be played
Listen all you ladies cos the babes are takin over this place
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
Were here to tell you fellas that the babes are takin over your place
No man, no cry
No man thats all right
No we wont be played, be played no more
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played

song performed by by Sugababes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once We Played

ONCE we played at love together--
Played it smartly, if you please;
Lightly, as a windblown feather,
Did we stake a heart apiece.

Oh, it was delicious fooling!
In the hottest of the game,
Without thought of future cooling,
All too quickly burned Life's flame.

In this give-and-take of glances,
Kisses sweet as honey dews,
When we played with equal chances,
Did you win, or did I lose?

Was your heart then hurt to bleeding,
In the ardour of the throw?
Was it then I lost, unheeding,
Lost my heart so long ago?

Who shall say? The game is over.
Of us two who loved in fun,
One lies low beneath the clover,
One lies lonely in the sun.

poem by Mathilde Blind
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We Teach Them Young

We teach them young,
What to dislike.
And...
To separate into divisons,
With preferences selected.

We teach them young,
How to hate and who to fight.
With weapons used to kill.
And incite with mindless deeds.
We...
Teach them this!

We teach them,
With a rehabilitation done...
To respect laws when broken.
With the best of pretentions kept.
We...
Teach them this!

We teach them young,
The art of deception.
Self righteousness and hypocriscy.
And then when they reflect these lessons taught...
We teach them denial to have others believe.

We teach them young with a doing done they do!
And yet we get upset with regrets to protest those tests,
They have passed.
With accusations directed at others to blame,
For implimenting those tasks we teach.

We...
Teach them young!
With a doing of this not to admit.
As we wish for escape from their commitments,
Made.

We...
Teach them young.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Evil Against The Good

The game unquestionably harsh
Started the day we were born
Out of me God created the best
Out of me evil wants
To recreate the worst
An infant between life and death
Not yet time to escape by losing breath
The game just began for the young one

The game unquestionably harsh
Dark streets and rough childhood
Experience of an adverse neighborhood
Got him trapped under the belly of the beast
Evil encounters sinking in the young head
Thoughts of the good lad decaying
The game heading for the climax

The game unquestionably harsh
Thought I would be good forever
Evil troops changed me for a sinner
Got addicted to the harmful world
Young days of ours full of madness
Got my own demons and so fearless
The game has ambushed us under stress

The game unquestionably harsh
Work of the young man is to daydream
Run the best imaginary world as possible
Managing mind tries the impossible
Fantasy world will never be reality
Perhaps the dream just a prophesy
The game plays tricks in the young mind

The game unquestionably harsh
It is play on the day we are born
Even before us it was playing
As we see more days we get played
Evil rules the planet earth
Good rules the purest heaven
The game is on until the end of times.

***The Book of End of Times

poem by Young Church
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