With Obstacles And Criticisms Expected
The success of my adventures,
Began when I became ignored.
When I began to explore my individuality,
With a sense not to pay attention...
To those who attempted,
To block this need I felt inside of me.
The success of my adventures,
Awakened with my curiosity.
I wanted to know how things in life connected.
And not too many explanations,
Did I accept.
I researched my own philosphies.
Although I've been close to breakiing my neck.
'Boy, do you think money grows on trees? '
My mother would say that to me early...
When she would buy my sister Mim and I,
Candy I didn't like!
And I wondered 'why' she kept saying 'that' to me.
Planting that seed to uncover,
WHERE did money grow?
If not from trees?
I had to know!
My mother 'hinted' there were other possibilities.
The success of my adventures,
Began when I became ignored.
When I began to explore my individuality,
With a sense not to pay attention...
To those who attempted,
To block this need I felt inside of me.
And I wanted to know...
If I couldn't do certain things,
Why was this told to me before I tried?
Why was this said to me,
As 'if' to deny?
And upon hearing 'that'...
I started to carve my own path.
And,
If I became lost...
It was something about 'that',
That became more attractive.
With obstacles and criticisms...
Expected!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Write you
It was a dark morning full off misty frost
I couldn't see through and I couldn't find the fire I lost
I was far too proud to shout for help
and I was too much of a coward to say how I really felt
I wanted to be friends with them all
where were they when I started to fall
you were my friend and you didn't even call
I walked into the party you stood on either side of the hall
I was in between and my back was up against the wall
I stopped being me, I stopped staying true
I started hating me when I should have been hating you
the path I walked turned out to be the wrong choice
I began hiding the pain I once had in my voice
I began speaking like you
I was you cause I didnt want to fight you
I wanted to write me I didn't want to write you.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Have You Ever Tried To Share Your Bliss?
Have you ever tried to share your bliss?
And someone questioned,
What you wanted in return for it?
And when you attempted to leave it with them...
A look of suspicion began to settle in.
They would not let you walk away.
An interrogation soon was relayed.
'Why you wanna give me this?
I don't want this mess!
This bliss you give!
Where you from anyway?
Do I look like I'm in need that way?
Do I look like I'm some tormented fool?
And why you lookin' all peaceful?
I didn't just graduate from nursery school.
Get that attitude away from me!
Screw you! '
Have you ever tried to share your bliss?
And someone questioned,
What you wanted in return for it?
And when you attempted to leave it with them...
A look of suspicion began to settle in.
They would not let you walk away.
An interrogation soon was relayed.
And when you left as they requested...
Did the next person you meet,
Look at you and cross the street?
Afraid of your clinched fist and bared teeth...
Was ready to pounce on them,
Ripping them apart like an angry beast?
Sometimes it is best...
To keep a bliss felt,
To oneself!
Some folks will never recognize,
A cheerfulness one has...
That another might despise!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Patient
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
That no longer exist.
I had placed people,
Who I considered friends on this list.
And for years they had been on it...
Doing and saying things to me as they wished.
Some don't speak to me.
But my name is on their lips.
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
That should not on my list exist!
Very few on my priority list,
Have me on their agenda.
And if they do,
I'm sure it's for fun, sport and gossip.
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
I couldn't not explain...
Why some names had hearts near them.
Did I do that?
Did I draw them in?
I use to dropp every and anything,
To be at someone's aide.
Some people I would call everyday...
Just to see if they were okay.
I've even allowed my own work to be submitted...
So folks could get their college degrees.
Joking about this,
I am not!
I have been the subject of innuendos and lies,
As if my life meant nothing at all.
To leave me to walk around with 'my' pain disguised.
Then I awakened and realized.
I am considered a fool!
Today...
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
That no longer exist.
And wondered to myself 'WHY'...
Is this stuff still 'there'.
Get rid of it!
This makes no sense.
Why do you have these people's lives,
Prioritized?
'That is being too patient!
Fix this and get this done quick! '
I have moments when I am completely rational.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is No Rest For Success
Success is a journey not a destination a year from
now you may wish you had started today.
Every beginner is a winner. Success is not escaping problems but facing them creatively.
There is no success without sacrifice.
Great success always calls for great sacrifice.
Even failure can become an important ingredient to success.
Failure just means that you have not yet succeeded.
I’d rather change my mind and succeed than have my own way and fail. Success without conflict is unrealistic.
Any person can be successful on smooth seas,
but it is the victory over the storm that gains true honor.
Success doesn’t come through the way you think it comes;
it comes through the way you think.
Never settle for less than success.
Success is doing something good.
When you can, where you can, while you can.
It’s better to attempt to do something great and fail,
than attempt to do nothing and succeed.
Success is not necessarily reaching your goal- but reaching the maximum possibilities in light of the opportunities that come your way.
To keep your values on target remember to live so that when you “arrive”, you’ll have pride behind you and hope ahead of you.
The success is truly the path to heaven.
Success is never ending, because success is like the process of seed planting. Every creative contribution like a seed planted may bear fruit.
Success finally is not what you have it is not what you do;
it is who you are, and what
you want to become of yourself.
poem by Felix Lugo
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What Defines Success
What is the journey to success?
Success is not gained by defeat
Success does not occur over night
Success can emerge at any age
Success is working to full potential
Success is courage
Success is lending a hand
Success is not listening to negativity
Success is being positive
Success is living your life instead of the life of others
Success is being proud
Success is overcoming obstacles
Success is striving
Success is listening to your heart
Most of all success is accepting
What you have accomplished
poem by Alisha Ricks
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Succes! !
It’s not a goal you seek
It’s not about getting money
It’s not to stay negative
It’s not all about you but other around you too
It’s not the end but the beginning of your life
To realizing and learning is what your success is
To try and want to improve is what your success is
To accomplish things by your own is what your success
To give or share is what your success is
To respect and believing in you is what your success is
To challenge yourself is what your success is
To work hard to reach your dreams you once believe is what your success is
Success is sweet and…. I believe it’s waiting for you to own it and hold it with your life.
poem by Angie Alphonce
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When It Began
It had begun,
When it began...
To make me pay attention.
To make me sit and listen.
Quietly...
And allow me to go within.
Without apprehension.
Until those 'thoughts' started to clear.
It had begun,
When it began...
To make me pay attention.
To make me sit and listen.
It had begun,
When it began...
And I was here.
It had begun,
When it began...
To click together and remove fear,
I had endeared.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The family that used to be
The family the used to be
There was once a happy family
Everything seem to be going right
Everybody was happy
There was no arguments or no fights
My mom and dad loved each other
Well at least I thought so
But after 2 years or so
All the love seemed to go
And disappear into the night
They began to argue
They began to fight
This hurted me inside
At night I cried
I hated for the family to fall apart
This truly broke my heart
When my father left the house
I didn’t care anymore
I wanted the family to be happy and full of love
But like my father that all went out the door
My heart felt so soar
I couldn’t love anymore
So I began to not care
Doing things I wouldn’t dare do
ONLY IF MY FATHER WAS HERE
My mom worries about me and wonder why I act this way
I never told her why
I just simply reply I’ll be ok
No one understands me
No one feels the pain I feel
When I think about how my family used to be
And how it is today
So a family the once used to be a family 3
Is now a family of 2
The house is quiet boring and blue
It’s not the same with out my dad here
But I can’t do nothing but cry (tear)
Signed a hurt child
By atiya
poem by Atiya Smith
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In Any Field of Endeavor
Achieving success in any field of endeavor,
Accomplishes two things...
Attention and distance!
Attention is generally given from those unknown.
With praise and curiosity shown.
While received from those who believe they know...
Is a growing attitude and distance bestowed.
Adding a touch of unflattering comments to defame.
With a mix of enforced delusional perceptions,
That have been unchanged, limited and misunderstood!
Since a success to them is more shocking than expected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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First Year Blues
Written by ernest tubb 1941. rec. by e.t. 11-17-41
Key d demo recorded by hank williams, probably 1949.
(d) now Ive been married about six months,
Only six (d7) months you (g) see,
The (a7) first three months, was all ok,
But the last three is killin (d) me,
My wife began her hissin, cut down on her kissin,
And then she failed to (d7) shine my (g) shoes,
My (a7) shirts they came up wrinkled,
My pants with dirt were sprinkled,
And then I took the first year (d) blues.
(d) well then she started naggin,
She left the sink asaggin,
With dishes (d7) piled up (g) high,
No (a7) food upon the table, she said if she was able,
Shed cook something bye and (d) bye,
Then I began to wonder, if I had made a blunder,
When I (d7) said I (g) do, she (a7) must have read my thinkin,
Her eyes began to blinkin and that gal broke in -(d) - to.
(d) well I heard the dishes crashin,
And I began to dashin, gettin (d7) out of (g) sight,
For (a7) right there was my honey,
On who Id spent my money, turnin into dy - na - (d) - mite,
Then after shed exploded, her meanness all unloaded,
And things began to (d7) simmer (g) down,
I (a7) found myself ableedin, and very much aneedin,
Of stitches taken all a - (d) - round.
(d) well then she started cryin, I felt myself asighin,
And then I took her (d7) in my (g) arms,
I (a7) was afraid to scold her, so I just gently told her,
She didnt do a bit of (d) harm,
Now the first six months is over, and I am much the older,
And experienced (d7) with a (g) wife,
If (a7) I can stand the next six, my friends all say Ill be fixed,
To take it the rest of my (d) life.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On What Is Success So Few Do Agree
On what is success so few do agree
The successful one to you may not be so to me
No two see things exactly the same as some like to say
We all look at life in a different way
Some people are not very hard to impress
They associate money and material things with success
Such as the value of your house and the value of your car
They never see you for the person you are,
The company you work for and your take home pay
Many look at success in this sort of a way
To them compassion and kindness to little amount
Though these things should be taken into account
When talking of success though it seems to me
That most of us look at things quite differently.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Shifting Sand
Do you see that post a-stickin in the sand?
Just the point of it a-poking thro' the sand?
Me and Madge put in that fence.
Yes! We should have had more sense!
We was young, you see, and didn't understand.
Twenty years come next November we began;
There was nothing here but scrub when we began --
Sold the farm on 'Dingo Flat,'
And put all we had in that!
Into blasted shifting sand and 'Take-all pan.'
This here paddick--which? Why where you're standing now
(Oh! it was one, tho' you wouldn't think so now!)
Well, we grubbed it, nice and neat,
And we gut it in with wheat;
And we didn't reap enough to feed the cow!
In the early spring the sand began to shift ---
In a 'Norther' have you ever seen it shift?
Well, it all went in a night,
Not a blade was left in sight
When we come to look next morning at the drift!
Round the back there, by them stunted pepper-trees;
Hardly anything will live here but them trees.
Madge is lying there, asleep,
With the sand above her, deep:
Deep and loose enough to sink you to the knees!
Many other things are buried on the land,
Things you can't get back from any kind of land,
Youth and hope, and tears and sweat,
Wasted work and vain regret,
In the sneaking, creeping, greedy, shifting sand!
poem by Charles Henry Souter
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The Borders
To say that she came into me,
from another world, is not true.
Nothing comes into the universe
and nothing leaves it.
My mother—I mean my daughter did not
enter me. She began to exist
inside me—she appeared within me.
And my mother did not enter me.
When she lay down, to pray, on me,
she was always ferociously courteous,
fastidious with Puritan fastidiousness,
but the barrier of my skin failed, the barrier of my
body fell, the barrier of my spirit.
She aroused and magnetized my skin, I wanted
ardently to please her, I would say to her
what she wanted to hear, as if I were hers.
I served her willingly, and then
became very much like her, fiercely
out for myself.
When my daughter was in me, I felt I had
a soul in me. But it was born with her.
But when she cried, one night, such pure crying,
I said I will take care of you, I will
put you first. I will not ever
have a daughter the way she had me,
I will not ever swim in you
the way my mother swam in me and I
felt myself swum in. I will never know anyone
again the way I knew my mother,
the gates of the human fallen.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
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Young And In Love
They said that we weren't old enough
and waiting five years would be better.
It was early morning on a wet June day
that we left our parents a letter.
We told them that we loved them,
but we also loved each other,
and the only way we could be happy
was to be as one, together.
So we left home and began our journey
as runaway lovers on a Barton bus.
We both felt dreadful to be leaving,
but our future depended on us.
Rented rooms and part time jobs
were all that we could find,
and being apart whilst being at work
wasn't what we had in mind.
We learned the hard way about living
and that love alone can't pay the rent.
We began to lose the 'being together' battle,
and like the money our love became spent.
We both hurt inside because of our failure
and that our love didn't conquer all.
Then we had our biggest decision to make,
Did we go on alone or give our parents a call?
poem by Orlando Belo
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Adventures In Paradise
We wanna be alone tonight
til early in the morning light
Exploring what the nature brings
Adventures in paradise
Adventures in paradise
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Oh, you know what I want tonight
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Adventures in paradise
We wanna be alone tonight
til early in the morning light
Exploring what the nature brings
Adventures in paradise
Adventures in paradise
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Oh, you know what I want tonight
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Adventures in paradise
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Oh, you know what I want tonight
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Adventures in paradise
When the moon is at its height
And nobody is in sight
Were hiding from the world we used to like
And will stories then be told
Of what we did here tonight
You will always be my number one
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Oh, you know what I want tonight
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Adventures in paradise
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Oh, you know what I want tonight
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Adventures in paradise
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Oh, you know what I want tonight
Oh, give me what I need tonight
Adventures in paradise
Oh, give me what I need tonight
song performed by by Ace Of Base
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No end to success
Success is not the triumph over regress,
Success is the power to suppress.
Success is not the money or the fame,
Success is, knowing you are still the same.
Success is not the power or the pride.
Success is the knowing how to hide.
Success is not a gift or gain,
Success is accepting and believing in your name.
Success is not a point or goal to seek,
Success is, believing you have never reached the peak.
Success is
poem by Jeff Rushton
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Always Wanted To Wear Your Shoes
o sister o sister
my beautiful and powerful big sister;
i wish i knew you like i once did
o sister o sister
my wise and worldly big sister;
i wish i knew the remedy for what has rent itself between us
a thousand hateful things i've said to you;
wish i knew how to soften those words
I don't know what you mean by formal, not sure how to be formal
I miss you
and dare I say you were right in many ways
are there amends for my intolerance of your menopause
which is when know that things began to really fall apart
and now, as i swallow black cohosh capsules
and find myself yet again in a back against the wall situation;
i'm wishing i'd ever learned to do things like you
learned to make the best of things,
find and develop my own creative spark
& now there is no you to run to
and i've yet again made choices without a backup plan.
this seems to have become the pattern of my life
never really finishing anything
testing the waters here and there
often trying to live up to you
there were times when i wished u were my mother
and even felt u were
and now as tears begin to well
i can't help wanting to reverse the clock
though I'm I'd just react the same way
so many little moments come flooding in
I sat,8ish months pregnant, at my midwife visit
staring at words on a memo she'd held in her hand
sister called, requests that we urge mother to consider adoption,
doesn't think she can handle motherhood
or is ready for mother hood
I don't remember the exact words.
I numbly said no, I didn't want adoption info
feeling very sad
feeling somehow rejected
and so it seems I couldn't handle motherhood
one of those midwives asked me, later, on my 6 week visit
'Are you starting to adjust to motherhood? '
What?
F*** no! I don't know what that means.
but i said neither, wanly exhaustedly said, yes.
no further questions.
And 12 years later, I've still not adjusted
and that doesn't mean I am not madly in love with my son.
But I know you know that
sister.
My heart feels so lost and yet there are moments
when I feel more powerful than I ever have.
I still keep feeling like I'm struggling to live up to you
still see your face when someone speaks of heroes
though I despise the word – and perhaps i've lived the reason why
I see other faces but yours the brightest
if not of late only because of my bitter anger
my self torturing sense of betrayal
just my feelings - not necessarily truth
Im sorry that I always wanted to be you
so much maybe that I even wanted to stamp you out.
©December 2008
poem by Pilar Mogollon
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Monkey money
When my son,
all blushing youth,
had a wish
I made it my adventure
to grant it.
When he wished for ice cream,
I got two scoops,
cold rounds of heaven,
so we could share the sweetness
because I like ice cream too.
When, eyes bright and innocent,
he wanted to play,
we'd explore Candyland together
and eat candy together
so that I could give him the full experience
of a world made of candy.
As he grew older,
he started wishing for money
even though he didn't know what it was,
and I convinced him
that the plastic monkeys
from the barrel were worth $10 apiece.
He always felt rich
and I got to keep my money
without being a disappointing parent
for a change.
poem by John W. McEwers
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Lily
Lily blossomed like any girl of sixteen
she was the prettiest flower ever seen.
She danced all day in the summer breeze
and gave off an aroma to attract the bees.
In the day she let all the visiting insects in,
then at night she closed her petals and slept within.
Having so much attention kept her happy and content
until she saw two snakes entwined, with loving intent.
Lily became sad and lonely swaying there,
she desired someone to be with her;
another flower that could move in rhythm and dance,
and much more than that she wanted romance.
As the days passed by she began to wilt and grow old,
she knew very soon that her life would fold.
Looking back at her life, it began so happily,
but then she yearned for what couldn't be.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Moon child
Bizarrely the moon fell pregnant and swelled in size,
She gave birth to a boy that grew up to be wise,
Although the child achieved much and gained great acclaim,
He felt too overshadowed by his mother's fame,
He'd always be asked about her by passersby,
As they admired how she lit up the night sky,
The boy struggled to light things that he looked upon,
And he was fed up of always being outshone,
So he went on a quest which would cost him dearly,
He tried eating fire but he was burnt severely,
He tried soaking up the sun's rays and scorched his skin,
Then thankfully his ideas began to run thin,
However he still had much determination,
And so he went off in search of inspiration,
On his travels he found someone who was lambent,
Who led him to a man that offered contentment,
The boy was told to sing spells as loud as he could,
But he had to move on as it did him no good,
Another man that said he could solve his problem,
Told him to say an incantation whilst solemn,
Sadly all that the act did was waste the boy's time,
Which is an annoyance for someone in their prime,
Regardless of the act not making that much sense,
He combined the advice to see what happened thence,
Lightning flashed and dark clouds turned the day into night,
And peculiarities were seen that caused fright,
But then his anxieties started to grow less,
For he was certain the charm had been a success,
As he noticed that he shone as he had hoped for,
But his light soon faded until it was no more,
Though that which he had hoped for hadn't been attained,
He was thankful since pride for his mother was gained.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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