The Best Way To Avoid Publicity
The best way to avoid publicity in small towns,
Especially...
Where there are those who are quick to peek and probe.
Is to pretend to seek it!
That's right.
People living in small towns love to believe,
There are those living amongst them...
Who seek attention.
And there are very few people I know,
Who advocate the advertising for peace of mind.
People living in small towns,
Frown down upon others...
Just on general principle anyway.
Anything that does not conform to limitation,
Is ignored and left alone.
That's why many celebrities and other notables,
Choose these places to live to be shunned and go unnoticed.
And this feeling has a mutual understanding that is respected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Train Window
Small towns
Crawling out of their green shirts…
Tubercular towns
Coughing a little in the dawn…
And the church…
There is always a church
With its natty spire
And the vestibule—
That's where they whisper:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…
How many codes for a wireless whisper—
And corn flatter than it should be
And those chits of leaves
Gadding with every wind?
Small towns
From Connecticut to Maine:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…tzz-tzz…
poem by Lola Ridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is interesting to be here and to see that for certain actors they have to live in a way that you think of nobody living anymore except for in small towns. They have such elaborate double lives.
quote by Bill Condon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But instead of that stuff you get relationships with people and neighbors that you would never get in a city. People in small towns are a lot more open.
quote by Genevieve Gorder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Are We Really Living For?
What are we really living for?
If we don't seek love.
What are we living for?
If inside we can't be happy.
We're living for,
The pursuit of it...
And some people think,
It is a ship coming in.
And all they have to do is sit and giggle and grin.
What are we really living for?
Does it get to show.
What are we really living for?
Who on Earth knows.
What are we really living for?
Is it for upheavel.
What are we really living for?
Or a treated evil.
What are we really living for?
Deceit and disbelief.
What are we really living for?
Or for other people.
What are we really living for?
To meet and greet.
What are we really living for?
Does it get to show.
What are we really living for?
Who on Earth knows.
What are we really living for?
Is it for upheavel.
What are we really living for?
Or a treated evil.
What are we really living for?
Or, are we too blind...
What are we really living for?
To see we're here...
And are together on the right scene.
We just don't want to know what it means...
To Let go, Let God, and let happiness,
Be released!
What are we really living for?
If we don't seek love.
What are we really living for?
If inside,
We can't-be-happy.
Are we really living for,
The pursuit of it...
And some people think,
It is a ship coming in.
And all they have to do is sit and giggle and grin.
What are we really living for?
Not for snicks and giggles.
What are we really living for?
Not for snicks and giggles.
What are we really living for?
Not for snicks and giggles.
What are we really living for?
Not for snicks and giggles.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I meet a lot of young people in the Midwest, and I saw what a difference a show like In the Life can make to their lives in some of these small towns where, you know, there are probably two gay people in the whole damn town.
quote by Lesley Gore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I suppose more than anything, it's the way of life in this part of the country that influences my writing. In Eastern North Carolina, with the exception of Wilmington, most people live in small towns.
quote by Nicholas Sparks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If There Is A God That God
If there is a God That God is not for you and yours alone God is for everyone
And for every man and woman and their daughter and their son
When you say God is for you and all of your religion it shows how arrogant you must be
God is in every good living Human Being that's how it would seem to me
A true God would embrace good living people of all religions and all good living non believers as well
The people you have condemned in words to an afterlife of hell,
You do seem so judgemental and in your thinking you seem small
If there is not a God for every good Human Being there is not a God at all
People like you are not in minority and that does seem sad to say
And meeting you and your kind never seems to make my day
To the religious fundamentalists of the World you and your kind belong
But suppose if you think you must be right then you cannot be wrong
If there is a God that God does not live remote from the World of Humankind
And in every good living Human Being that God lives in their mind.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It's Either Crime or Evil
It's either crime or evil...
Those choices that are picked.
Done by certain people...
Living in despair!
And exposed to wickedness.
This is not rare.
Nor is it today considered sick.
These are the lives some have to survive.
And polluted is the air where this exists.
It's crime or evil...
That teaches people,
A collected sum done will never be equal.
And with wishes to prevent this,
Are those enforced to sit through sequals.
Understanding no one cares.
Or there to spare them from paying the fare.
Anywhere!
Hopeless and alone...
Many struggle groaning on their own.
Living in towns and cities without pity.
With drooping heads from being unfed.
And devoid of a nourishment,
That will inspire or encourage them.
Moping on the streets,
With a lost dignity that is preached.
And sleeping without shelter,
Through storms of emotion...
That drains them of faith,
And meaningless devotion...
That brings and creates for them torment,
Burdened by heartache.
It is either crime or evil,
For the people living in despair.
It's either crime or evil,
With no one there who cares.
It is either crime or evil,
For the people living everywhere.
It's either crime or evil,
That clouds the Sun...
With stinging winds that chill,
From a darkness of wilfull behavior done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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O Town And City To Down And Pity !
O TOWN AND CITY TO DOWN AND PITY
O towns and cities!
If anything goes amiss
In your arteries and veins
Town would tumble 'down'
And city would be a'pity'!
Even the winds have no knowledge
Of the lanes and by lanes
Of the labyrinthine towns!
Let me tell you,
It is no wonder;
The day is not far off
When city folks buy air in kilos
From supermarkets,
And in their living burrows
Churn it with their electric fans
All through the day
To collect every disease
Named and unnamed!
If you search their addresses,
Better approach the diseases
That would guide you in a flash
To their miserable homes!
Both their homes and minds,
Lo, have shrunk like small mustard!
The bit of the sky that they could see
Is just to the size of their plates!
If peace is the one they dream for
They would never get it even in death!
Oh, everything is topsy-turvy here!
They inhale carbon-di-oxide
And exhale their own life!
--S.CHANDRA KALAADHAR
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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One of the cries from the people was, don't forget us. They have a long road ahead of them. Operation Blessing has found those little fishing towns. They will not be getting what other towns are getting from the government.
quote by Connie Sellecca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The 'He-Said' 'She-Said' People
When one lives amongst the 'he-said' 'she-said' people,
Many will assume what that person does and do.
And who that person is.
But few,
Will actually speak or have a conversation...
To know what those shared interests are.
And...
No one really cares what they are.
Since it might bring logic to their gossiped innuendos.
And in small towns,
The 'he-said' 'she-said' people...
Take pride in all of the lies they create.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When news of the crash came, probably a lot of people in small towns and farms across America felt a sense of grim satisfaction that the sinners had finally been punished for their wicked ways.
quote by Ron Chernow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bosnia Tune
As you pour yourself a scotch
Crush a roach or check your watch
As your hands adjust your tie people die
In the towns with funny names
Hit by bullets, caught in flames
By and large not knowing why people die
And in small places you don't know of
Yet big for having no chance to scream
Or say good-bye people die
Chorus: La, la... Let me know
People die as you elect
New apostles of neglect, self restraint
Whereby people die Too far off to practice love
For thy neighbour, brother Slav
Where your cherubs dread to fly people die
Chorus...
While the statues disagree
Cain's version, history for its fuel tends to buy
Those who die
As you watch the athletes score
Or check your latest statement
Or sing your child a lullaby people die
Time, whose sharp, bloodthirsty quill
Parts the killed from those who kill
Will pronounce the latter tribe
As your type.
2nd Version:
As you pour yourself a scotch,
crush a roach, or scratch your crotch,
as your hand adjusts your tie,
people die.
In the towns with funny names,
hit by bullets, caught in flames,
by and large not knowing why,
people die.
In small places you don't know
of, yet big for having no
chance to scream or say good-bye,
people die.
People die as you elect
brand-new dudes who preach neglect,
self-restraint, etc. –whereby
people die.
Too far off to practice love
for thy neighbor/brother Slav,
where your cherubs dread to fly,
people die.
While the statues disagree,
Cain's version, history
for its fuel tends to buy
those who die.
As you watch the athletes score,
check your latest statement, or
sing your child a lullaby,
people die.
Time, whose sharp bloodthirsty quill
parts the killed from those who kill,
will pronounce the latter band
as your brand.
poem by Joseph Brodsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red, White, and Blue
brown and black,
red, and white...
old and young,
male and female.
tired and poor,
pushed too far!
too honest for
our own good...
small towns, big cities,
farms and factories...
hands that work
joined together...
we are a people
that believe in people...
the faces of freedom,
and we have names!
red, white, and blue!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Rough Carpenter...
i am only the rough carpenter
building a hapless shelter...
for strays, dogs and cats,
old people and young anarchists.
addicts, whores, ex-cons, and thieves.
street bums, farmers left homeless,
angry young students...
spiders, snails, ants, and moths.
out of work elephants,
turtles who have lost their shell.
small birds fallen from the nest,
both prodigals and dreamers.
third world refugees,
the blind, and the deaf.
sons and daughters,
mothers and fathers...
people bound by tears,
fears, and their own failures.
small people living small lives,
and renegade priests...
all those who doubt, question, and seek...
hearts that need hearts, hands that need hands.
those that need ears,
and human closeness.
pine trees fallen, and moonlight forgotten.
and that stranger the wind,
when she happens by!
a rough carpenter working and waiting,
for love to finish the job!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Our Small Town
Love going for walks around town
A small town a holler from the big city
The many old building lining the main street
Which by the way isn't main street that's a block away
From the small library to the high school a jot to get to
The sidewalks resemble the old boardwalks from yesteryear
The shops vary as the street winds to the highway
The country air blows thru the street full of manure
Good ole air, they say around here
The small diner with the local farmers dwell at
Talking of this year's events from farming to politics
The ladies at the sew shop talking gossip
It's amazing how time don't change as years pass
Every year the town picnic to the 4th July jamboree
To the harvest dance and everything in between
Small town people living the old time ways
Wishing every town was as good as it
Walking thru saying hey to neighbors all around
Can make everyday a good day
Seeing people in the park enjoying the kids play
The banner welcoming you to our small town
Small town America, loving it, living it
poem by Michael Peterson
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People Need Love
People need hope, people need loving
People need trust from a fellow man
People need love to make a good living
People need faith in a helping hand
Man has always wanted a woman by his side to keep him company
Women always knew that it takes a man to get matrimonial harmony
Everybody knows that a man whos feeling down wants some female sympathy
Gotta have love to carry on living
Gotta have love till eternity
People need hope, people need loving
People need trust from a fellow man
People need love to make a good living
People need faith in a helping hand
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la la
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la laa...
Flowers in the desert need a drop of rain like a woman needs her man
If a mans in love and his woman wants the moon
Then hell it down if he can
Somebody who loves you and somebody who cares
Isnt that what youd call a friend?
Gotta have love to carry on living
You can have peace if you understand
People need hope, people need loving
People need trust from a fellow man
People need love to make a good living
People need faith in a helping hand
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la la
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la laa...
People need hope, people need loving
People need trust from a fellow man
People need love to make a good living
People need faith in a helping hand
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la la
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la laa...
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la la
La la la la, la la la la-la, la la la la la la la-la la laa...
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Nothing Is Done
Do you get the feeling,
That it doesn't matter who says what...
About anyone or anything anymore.
This seems especially true...
In small towns with nohing but gossip,
For folks to value.
The more things change...
The less those who desperately need to change,
Do!
Even in big cities,
There are small minded folks!
And...
The mindsets of small town folks,
Will be guaranteed to be left reliably...
Small minded and uninvolved.
But yet upset with 'them'
Because 'they' don't 'act' like they care,
About their problems.
Those who sit on stoops...
And/or push baby carriages,
Around the blocks where their babies fathers,
Stand.
Seeking tips on good luck,
To dropp in their pockets!
They have suffered from under the rug swept stuff...
These folks!
With claims to have problems...
That have been historically ignored,
By those praying to God for solutions.
And when they come...
They don't like what has to be done!
So nothing is...
Done!
It just decays!
And folks find ways to celebrated it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Sea Loving People
The true sea loving people never live far from the sea
They pine if the ocean they can't hear or see
The feel of the sea spray where the wild breakers roar
Where huge waves pound the stony cliffs overlooking the shore.
They can only live near to where the surf waves roll
And to them the breath of the sea air is good for the soul
In towns by the ocean they grow old and gray
From salt-water they could not live far away.
The sea loving people enjoy the coastal sunshine
Inland from the ocean they surely would pine
To live two miles from the ocean for them does seem far
Though in distance that only a short drive by car.
The sea loving people love the rumble of the big surf waves
In cemetery close to the cliffs are their ancestors graves
They would pine if they could not hear the sea breakers roar
They only could live in towns near the Sea-shore.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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