That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Beating Around The Bush
Smiling face and loving eyes
But you keep on telling me all those lies
Howd you xpect me to believe?
Honey I aint that naive
Baby I got my eye on you
cause you do all the things I want you to
Stop your crying and dry your tears
I aint that wet behing the ears
Well you can throw me left
And you can throw me right
But where was you last night?
Beating around the bush
Wish I knew whats on your mind
Why you bein so unkind?
member those nights we spent alone
Talkin on the telephone
Thought of you go through my brain
Told me that you felt the same
Told me that you loved me too
Tell me, who would lie with you?
Well you can chew it up
And you can spit it out
Let it all hang out
Beating around the bush
Youre the meanest woman Ive ever known
Sticks and stones wont break my bones
I know what youre lookin for
You ate you cake, you want some more
Im gonna give you just a one more change
Try to save our romance
Thats all Im gonna do
The rest is up to you
You can chew it up
And you can spit it out
Let it all hang out
Beating around the bush
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Procrastinations Created to Make An Erasing
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
People like this are easily offended.
Believing their disrespect for others,
Should be condoned.
People like this,
Anticipate being appreciated!
For making mediocrity enforced upon others.
With a downgrading of their expectations.
And communicating that,
To entrap as this is shown!
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
And as incredible as this may be...
People extend to them patience,
With comprehension.
Instead of giving them a boot to the curb!
Asked for and deserved!
A lack of discipline should never be rewarded.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beating Song OF The Drums
The beating song of the drums
The beating song of a beating heart
The love lust of the beating blood
Overfills a dam just like a beating flood
Crashing through everything
Never ever beating apart
The beating love for a beating heart
Just like a beating heart
Always together never ever apart
We’re here for each other
Our beating hearts
Play the song of the beating drums
The song of the beating drums we’re never apart
The Song Of The Beating Drums We’re Never Apart
The song of the beating drums we’re never apart
Overfills a dam just like a beating flood
The beating love for a beating heart
The beating song of a beating heart
Play the song of the beating drums
The love lust of the beating blood
Always together never ever apart
The beating song of the drums
Crashing through everything
We’re here for each other
Never ever beating apart
Just like a beating heart
Our beating hearts
I mean, there's no arguing. There is no anything. There is no beating around the bush. ""You're fired"" is a very strong term.
quote by Donald Trump
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Bush Begins to Speak
They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Progress
THEY’VE builded wooden timber tracks,
And a trolly with screaming brakes
Noses into the secret bush,
Into the birdless brooding bush,
And the tall old gums it takes.
And down in the sunny valley,
The snorting saw screams slow;
O bush that nursed my people,
O bush that cursed my people,
That flayed and made my people,
I weep to watch you go
poem by Frank Wilmot
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The Circle
Of fog enchanted dawns
Starry nights alone
Of sunsets going on
Into forever
Lovers lying silent
Hearts beating together
Beating as one
....a poem is born
To have and to hold love
Fragile as the rose
To the past memories
On going thereof
Mothers holding babies
Hearts beating together
Beating as one
The circle is done
October 27,1996
poem by Midnights Voice
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Two Hearts Beating As One
Magical moments of pure sweet passion
Flutters within my hearts devotion
Two hearts beating they know it's just right
The beat grows stronger then fades in the night.
Hungry for your heart beating with mine
Longing to be with you all the time
The miracle of the beat drawing us closer
Two hearts beating within one another.
You saved me a place within your heart
Letting me stay never to part
Two hearts beating strong and true
Two hearts beating as one, not two.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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And it was, it was not beating George Bush, believe it or not, the bottom line as far as I was concerned was introducing to the public who Gerry Ferraro was.
quote by Geraldine Ferraro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Eenie Meenie Miney Moe Gotta Go
Quit your beating that you do around the bush.
Your looks are mushy,
And they're not that anonymous.
I like to get a rush to hold and touch.
A feeling in my heart,
That will gush with a blush.
That eenie meenie miney moe gotta go,
Oh oh.
It's got too much of your mind on a hold,
Oh oh.
I like to get a rush to hold and touch.
Oh oh.
A feeling in my heart,
That will gush with a blush.
Quit your beating that you do around the bush.
Your looks are mushy,
And they're not that anonymous.
I like to get a rush to hold and touch.
A feeling in my heart,
That will gush with a blush.
That eenie meenie miney moe gotta go,
Oh oh.
It's got too much of your mind on a hold,
Oh oh.
I like to get a rush to hold and touch.
Oh oh.
A feeling in my heart,
That will gush with a blush.
Oh oh.
That eenie meenie miney moe gotta go,
Oh oh.
It's got too much of your mind on a hold,
Oh oh.
Quit your beating that you do around the bush.
Your looks are mushy,
And they're not anonymous.
They're not anonymous.
That beating that you do around the bush...
Is not for me!
That eenie meenie miney moe gotta go,
Oh oh.
That eenie meenie miney moe gotta go,
Oh oh.
That eenie meenie miney moe that you hold,
Is not my cup of tea!
That eenie meenie miney moe that you hold.
That eenie meenie miney moe that you hold.
That eenie meenie miney moe's gotta go...
It's not my cup of tea!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Solar Maximum
events are happening
on global galactic scale
weather increasingly
more violent storms
solar maximum
is a natural cycle
solar flares flame
kinda hard to tell
when scientists
are telling the truth
beating around the Bush
had over a thousand
scientists in his pocket
stating crisis global warming
a false fantasy does not exist
so no expense carbon tax paid
or reduction in industrial profit
political climate
certainly got hotter
hurricane records
unprecedented judgement
in sharp shift weather patterns
deeming Bush disagreeable
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Left-To-Pout
I want to know what you want.
This beating around the bush skit,
Has played out.
From your lips to my ears...
I want to hear what this is about!
Come out with it!
You're gay?
Is that what you want to say?
Or is it,
You are cruiser friendly?
Don't claim you are a freak.
You'd be walking on the wrong turf,
In my territory.
On my streets.
What is it?
You're a lesbian in a borrowed body?
And you want to confess this to Oprah.
While the camera pans the audience...
To zoom and focus upon me,
Exposing my complete humiliation!
Has that been scheduled?
You know I need advance notification.
When is it?
Is that what this is?
And I am NOT delusional.
So don't look at me like that!
As if we are playing 'Jeopardy'...
And I haven't responded with the right question.
To deliver you from your game of 'Hide and Seek'.
Very soon you can STAY 'hidden'.
To play cat and mouse in an empty house.
I want to know what you want.
This beating around the bush skit,
Has played out.
From your lips to my ears...
I want to hear what this is about!
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
You're gay?
Is that what you want to say?
Or is it,
You are cruiser friendly?
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Don't claim you are a freak.
You'd be walking on the wrong turf,
In my territory.
And on my streets.
And that kind of competition,
Is beyond my seeking.
Come out with it!
Or-be-left-to-pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
Or-be-left-to-pout.
Come out with it!
Or be left to pout.
Come out with it!
OR-BE-LEFT-TO-POUT! .
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everywhere I Go
I hear your heart beating everywhere
When were apart I can hear you there
I hear your heart beating everywhere
Everywhere I go
People say that I must be in love
The way I forget what were speaking of
The way I stand there smiling straight ahead
And walk away without hearing a word they said
I hear your heart beating everywhere
When were apart I can close my eyes and hear you there
I hear your heart beating everywhere
Everywhere I go
In the middle of the football game
At the beach in the pouring rain
Standing on a hillside staring at the sun
People hurry by the unfortunate one
With the faraway eyes and the mystery smile
Moving my body in a ragamuffin style
I cant sit down when I hear it start
I hear you heart everywhere I go
People say that I must be a fool
Cause when Im near you I cannot be cool
I dont quite make sense when I talk to you
And when you smile I forget everything I knew
I hear your heart beating everywhere
When were apart I can close my eyes and hear you there
I hear your heart beating everywhere
Everywhere I go
Standing in the market where I buy my bread
With a hunger in my belly and a rhythm in my head
Looking all around for something good to eat
Between the butter and the beans and the mops and the meat
Coffee from the mountain, honey from the bee
Nothing tastes as good as you taste to me
Rocking in the aisle to my inside song
People staring at me think I got a walkman on
I hear your heart beating everywhere
I hear your heart
I hear your heart beating everywhere
I hear you heart
Beating everywhere I go
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I must go to the bush again
I must go to the bush again
and for a time be free,
from the inward chill
of the big city
and the emptiness
that life among strangers brings.
I must go to the bush again
and see the baobab trees,
frame against the setting sun
and know that somehow
the Almighty One
cares about everyone and me.
I must go to the bush again
and watch the wild buck,
drink from a stream
and see the crocodiles slide
into back into the water
and find the tranquillity
that nature brings.
I must go to the bush again
and give a prayer
and to find solace there,
from a world
that’s totally out of control.
poem by Gert Strydom
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27 Years In The Bush
27 years in the bush!
I am still finding my way through to reach to the city;
And i need a teacher on this issue to guid eme through this thick bush.
Life is very hard for me alone in this bush,
But i have to hide to save my name;
For the bombs are everywhere and many of my friends are dead already,
And i need a clever teacher who knows the bush very well to lead me on.
27 years in the bush!
Life in Africa does have many colours;
But my faith will surely lead me on till i reach to the city of love,
And i have to save myself from these bombs.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mine
O HOW my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
And I drink up joy like wine:
O how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
For the lovely girl is mine!
She's rich, she's fair, beyond compare,
Of noble mind, serene and kind--
And how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
For the lovely girl is mine!
O how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
In a music soft and fine;
O how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
For the girl I love is mine.
She owns no lands, has no white hands,
Her lot is poor, her life obscure;--
Yet how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
For the girl I love is mine!
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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With A Mouth Full Of Foot
Someone will be faulted,
For not beating around the bush.
Someone who recognizes demonic intentions...
Will identify it,
With a mouth full of foot.
Those who are bearers of false masks,
Seem always confronted...
By a lack of depth they have.
And with attempts to try to pass this,
As confidence...
There is no track record established,
To prove a sincerity has ever been shown...
From them as evidence that is meant.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Like the Sun, Moon and Stars
There always seems to be something relevent,
About the re-occurrence of facts.
They remain consistent.
No matter how many versions are told,
To manipulate them.
And each time they are used,
A beating around the bush...
Accompanies someone's lapse in memory.
But the facts have no lapses at all.
They are there and dependable.
Like the Sun, Moon and Stars.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Night Train
Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by?
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry;
Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky?
Have you heard the still voice calling – yet so warm, and yet so cold:
"I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come to me when you are old"?
Did you see the Bush below you sweeping darkly to the Range,
All unchanged and all unchanging, yet so very old and strange!
While you thought in softened anger of the things that did estrange?
(Did you hear the Bush a-calling, when your heart was young and bold:
"I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you; Come to me when you are old"?)
In the cutting or the tunnel, out of sight of stock or shed,
Did you hear the grey Bush calling from the pine-ridge overhead:
"You have seen the seas and cities – all is cold to you, or dead –
All seems done and all seems told, but the grey-light turns to gold!
I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you – come to me now you are old"?
poem by Henry Lawson
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