You 'Feelin' Me?
Look...
For the record!
I AM a writer.
It is much more than liking it!
I AM it!
I AM this creative being.
I was born this way.
You know how some folks,
Can't make up their minds from time to time?
I don't understand that.
I don't have that problem.
The problem I'm confronted with,
Are those who believe I seek their approval...
Or acceptance.
Or 'tolerance' for my behavior.
And it has taken me years to convince them...
Even 'if' they did not exist,
I'd still be doing 'this'!
Or finding time to compose, act or direct.
Sing or dance or just sit to reflect.
Or write my opinions to submit in response...
To some nonsense I've read in a local newspaper,
Feeding BS to dead heads.
To inject their community hostilities.
That 'game is played all over the place!
This 'business' about fitting 'in' to please...
Has never comforted me personally,
Or my needs, desires or wishes I dream.
I'm not focused into who did what to who...
And got mad as hell!
I thought eyes were meant to roll,
Until my mother said to me...
'Boy, you better stop rolling your eyes at me.
Before I pop 'em right out of your head!
AND look at me when I'm talking to you.'
My mom had a way of getting my sisters and I
To listen to her!
It was quite a different intimidation than my father's.
He would just fix his eyes on me and not move them,
At all.
Not even blink for minutes.
Or say a word.
He was 'extremely' convincing.
Look...
For the record!
I AM a writer.
It is much more than liking it!
I AM it!
I AM this creative being.
I was born this way.
My identity is intact!
And I thank God for that.
Because the 'normalcy' of 'your' world...
Leaves much to be questioned and debated,
For the reality of it that is 'suppose' to reflect truth.
Very little of that is expressed!
You 'feelin' me?
I AM a process of evolution.
A creative aspect of life.
Just like all of nature should be.
I am about growth and change.
And none of that I am asking for
From anyone's pocket to spare.
Or decide I qualify to be who I AM.
I don't play that!
It is not a condition of my mission.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Just For The Record
(fish, steve rothery, mark kelly, pete trewavas, ian mosley)
Manys the time Ive been thinking about changing my ways
But when it gets right down to it its the same drunken haze
Im serving a sentence to write lifes sentences
Its only when Im out of it I make sense of this
Just for the record Im gonna put it down, down
Just for the record Im gonna change my life around
Just a revolutionary with a pseudonym
Just a barroom dancer on my final fling
Just another writer paying off my dues
Just finding inspiration well thats my excuse
Just for the record Im gonna put it down, down
Just for the record Im gonna change my life around
Just another empty gesture with an empty glass
Just another comic actor behind a tragic mask
But Ive got no discipline got no self control
Just a little less painful here when my backs against the wall
Its too late, I found, its too far, Im in two minds
Both of them are out of it at the bar
When you say I got a problem thats a certainty
But I can put it all right down to eccentricity
Its just for the record its just a passing phase
Just for the record I can stop any day
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The creative and the receptive
To sing is creative; to listen is receptive.
To play is creative; to watch is receptive.
To write is creative; to read is receptive.
In sex, man is creative and woman, receptive.
21.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emphatically Expressed
A writer doesn't write to attract readers.
Maybe gossip columnists do.
To sell images and ruin a few.
But a writer who is true,
Writes because that is what writers do.
I wrote years before anything I wrote was read.
It wasn't to impress.
Those issues express about me,
Have long been put to rest in my head.
If something I write is read...
I hope a connection is made from what I've said.
Some also make claims they too like to write.
And I say to myself,
'Liking and loving are different appetites.'
No one who 'is' a writer takes it 'light'.
And those who feel this way...
May stay up night after night,
After many a sleepless night.
And it isn't for fame or money.
Trust me on that.
And I thank God what I do isn't done for the glory.
That's another story.
However,
When my contributions do become discovered...
It will be 'seen' there is some depthness meant.
Something within me that seems never to be solved.
Something with content I can not just dissolve.
And there is nothing to glorify,
When someone who writes for nourishment...
To feed others,
Do not think themselves to eat or drink.
Not when a thought comes to possess their minds,
With a desire to be completed.
Coming with a sensation one should heed.
And most of the time this is the writer's deed.
Whether the one who 'writes' gets a wink of sleep,
Or blinks.
And no matter if what is written is accepted,
Or thought to be rejected and stinks!
This kind of discipline...
Does not seek to reach for that attention!
Unless,
Money becomes mentioned.
And only then,
Of course...
What I have just emphatically expressed,
You have my permission to ignore.
Since my intention will take upon another direction,
To excite my need to explore...
With a more deepened Introspection.
I do write.
But biting into a good meal,
Intrigues!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am just a Child of Beloved nature!
I am not that,
I am not this,
I am that words can't say,
Just like unpredictable,
I Live like child of the nature,
Having sunshine in my mind,
Having cloudy sky too,
Just like a child playing with mother,
I see stars in her sky reflect in my eyes,
Those stars also brighten my dreams!
My need she fulfills,
For my questions she responds with great answers,
I am loving my mother,
I dance with her jumping with frogs and flying with butterflies,
Singing with birds,
mew with kittens, playing with puppy,
Seeing all of them as my own,
I am the child and never like to live more than that!
Life is not real for me,
Just flow of time make me sleep, dream and awake,
Work is my play, problems are quiz,
Whole life is not a puzzle,
Only wonderful play of rainbow of colourful light,
Pain or happiness are momentary,
I feel everything temporary,
Self is that playing with self alone,
Self is that ever like to live like a kid,
neither born nor die,
Never aging truth beyond time is me!
I am a part of its play,
I have to play a role,
I learn to act and play my role,
years after years roll,
I too roll life after life,
Yet remain as kid for ever!
I complain about my pain,
She has that ever soft hands to wipe tears!
When I am sad, she sends birds to sing for me,
when I am mad, she has that teacher to correct me,
She is my beloved mother, I am her loving kid!
I am learning what I am,
She teach me well with all love!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Are So Creative
When some folks begin...
To make excuses.
It is a process for them,
That never ends.
They keep making excuses,
To use and abuse their family and friends.
In an addicting process...
Predictable!
Eventually identified as lies.
And applied over and over again.
Some are so creative,
As to make people believe...
Those who can see through this,
Are wrong not to comprehend...
An obvious illness,
Hidden within!
And why excuses for them exist.
Going on in their minds,
Without the slightest resistance...
Time after time.
And then comes the campaign...
To discredit and bad mouth others.
Either stating someone believes,
They have opinions that are not concrete.
When anyone who has ever made contact with them...
Notices too late,
They too have been wrapped up in a waste of time...
Helping the excuse maker to defend!
Only to find themselves in public disagreements.
And having the innocent eyes of a pathological liar...
Gaining sympathy from those,
Who had not been over time exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being A Poet
I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.
Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.
At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.
If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.
There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.
I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.
Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.
In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.
With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.
Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Child Moves On
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
But in another town in another place
Another child is born to the human race
And another child moves on
We dream a little less each day
We suffer in some new way
Soon we discover a bright new lover
Then realize we were born for demise
As another child dances in front of our eyes
And another child moves on
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
but in another town, in another place, another child joins the human race
and another child moves on
And when another child moves on
Tell me what is gained when he's gone?
In the great green valley of life
Another death cuts us like a knife
We play baseball in the lights at the park
Discover a new kiss by the moonlit dark
Watch silly shows as the picture tube glows
edit our speech to soothe our friends
Knowing full well how this all ends
And then another child moves on
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
But in another town in some new place
Another child is born to the human race
And another child moves on
And another child moves on
Tell me who has lost whose won?
A mother sighs and a mother cries
A father merely lowers his eyes
And in another town in another place
A bright smiling child joins the human race
And the whole world smiles along
Beau Golden
1989
poem by Beau Golden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Diary Of Me
Umm pum-pum-pum
Pum-pum, pum-pum, pum-pum
Look behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be some things I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct all the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be some things I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
'Cause
Where I'm from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (a child was born) (ooh)
And raised without a man (without my... father, and wonder why he's in these streets) (ooh)
My mother's gone (mothers gone, yet still... found the strength to pray for me) (ooh)
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book (na-na-na-na-na-na)
Turn the pages of my life (na-na-na)
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from (ahh...)
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery (ahh...)
Look in my eyes (ahh...)
You'll see the diary of me (pum-pum-pum-pum-pum)
Where I'm from (where I'm from, who could believe) (ahh...)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see) (ahh...)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) my diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes (ahh...)
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) (ahh...)
(And you will see) yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...) (ahh...)
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My dad was the baby. When he was born they were already successful. They sent him to business school - he probably would have loved to have been a poet or a writer or something, and he was very creative.
quote by Bob Balaban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Move
Written by terry shaddick and steve kipner, 1983
Found on your move and the very best of america.
I don't understand it 'cause you won't say yes
But you don't say no
Sayin' no we shouldn't you keep holdin' out
But you don't let go
I'm givin' up on trying
To sell you things that you ain't buying
It's your move (your move)
I played all of mine
Time (ah) is running out
Make your move (your move)
Or we can't go on
Till (ah) you understand
It's all in your hands
It's your move
You're giving me the business with that old come on
But you don't come across
You get me so excited don't you know you're such a tease
When i think you're gettin' hot, you're not
(oo) so what's the problem, what's wrong
This kiss and miss you know it can't go on
It's your move (your move)
I played all of mine
Time (ah) is running out
Make your move (your move)
Or we can't go on
Till (ah) you understand
It's all in your hands
It's your move
(know it can't go on) go on
I'm givin' up on trying now it's (your move)
Girl, if you ain't buyin' now it's (your move)
I gave it all i got now it's (your move)
I thought you were hot but you're not so it's (your move, your move, your move)
It's your move (your move, ah)
I played all of mine
Time is running out
Make your move (ah, oh)
Or we can't go on
Till you understand
It's all in your hands
It's your move
It's your move (your move, ah)
I played all of mine
Time is running out
Make your move (ah, oh)
Or we can't go on
Till you understand
It's all in your hands
It's your move
It's your move (your move, ah)
I played all of mine
Time is running out
Make your move (your move, ah)
Or we can't go on
Till you understand
It's all in your hands
It's your move ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
But...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
And...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned.
No one questioned.
No one questioned the reek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfectionism is not a quest for the best. It is a pursuit of the worst in ourselves, the part that tells us that nothing we do will ever be good enough — that we should try again. No. We should not. Focused on process, our creative life retains a sense of adventure. Focused on product, the same creative life can feel foolish or barren.
quote by Julia Cameron
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lady Writer
Lady writer on the tv
Talk about the virgin mary
Reminded me of you
Expectation left to come up to yeah
Lady writer on the tv
She had another quality
The way you used to look
And I know you never read a book
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time, another place
Lady writer on the tv
She had all the brains and the beauty
The pictures does not fit
Youd talk to me when you felt like it
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place
Yes and your rich old man,
You know hed a call her a dead ringer
You got the same command
Plus your mother was a jazz singer
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place
Lady writer on the tv
She knew all about a history
You couldnt hardly write your name
I think I want it just the same as the ...
Lady writer on the tv
Talking about the virgin mary
You know Im talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the tv
Talking about the virgin mary
Yeah you know Im talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the tv
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creative Desires
Satisfy your creative desires into the world of my poems,
And be ready to learn from me;
Because as the poetry goes,
So is the state of my mind with the writer's pen.
A youthful love is the desire of my ink and,
The vibrant act of my muse is all about us;
But many people do have creativity as well.
The love of my words is from the literature of my pen,
And like cash and carry in the world of business;
But never be on my credit if you have no love.
Satisfy your creative desires into the world of my muse,
For a little success will surely breed more success!
Because i have a message for this world and,
My ink will keep on writing to touch you always over there.
Imaginations and love,
My poems are woven around a fascinating kernel of truth;
So cry your cry and paddle your own boat,
And be ready to learn from me as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Incredulous
It will sound incredulous to you but,
This is an incognito to their names!
For they are trying to put the earth into the state of malleable,
But i am still the sophomore student next door.
Are you talking of the sleeping beauty around you?
Then try to satisfy your creative deisre with the peace of nature;
For i am still the sophomore student next door,
And if you are incorrigible to yourself then think twice.
I thought it was a transient act,
But the very quiescent realms of the higher Spirits are now disturbed!
And, we have to cover our heads to see what is below us.
The quest of an identity and the quest for love,
Satisfy your creative desires with the peace of nature;
And like the erudite state of my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Igniting With a Fresh Incentive
The thing I enjoy most about writing...
Is the focus of intended content.
I may believe my creation heads one way.
With imagery I select.
Then someone decides,
What my thought process 'really'is.
And concludes my purpose is deeper,
Than my intended one meant.
With a dissecting of my original intention...
And an imposition of their own sentiments.
Am I not the writer?
Don't I have creative license?
Or at least be given the benefit of a doubt,
There is a 'root' of truth I do write about.
I 'use' to get bewildered about this!
But not anymore.
I submit my writings and patiently sit.
Reading comments from readers who 'insist'...
Upon probing further,
With 'their' interesting deepness.
Which then feeds my inspiration,
With an innovativeness that motivates...
A spark igniting with a fresh incentive.
Yes,
God does work in mysterious ways.
And in my case...
I hope this mysteriousness stays.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strictly Business
Verse 1:
Back in the days I made up my mind
That I would be a king, you know, genuine
Reign supreme at the top of the heap
And like working all day, no time to sleep
Destined to rise, in front of your eyes
So we surmise, it's time for the prize
The time has come, we gotta be number one
The world is full of power and we got to get some
No more beggin and useless teardrops
So I'm trading these teardrops for props
Goin' all the way and with my powerful team
Conquering the world and I'ma rise like cream
All out, putting heads to bed
Cause I'm a grown man and I hate to get spoon-fed
Wisdom, son, I rose in the east
Till we reach the top, won't be no peace, cause it's
Chorus:
Strictly business, strictly business
Ain't no way I'm gonna stop
Strictly business, ain't no time to get more
Gotta make it to the top
Verse 2:
Everything we do, gotta be brand new
The moves we make, gotta make the earth shake
Sitting at my desk, cause I manifest to my team
Big plans that'll make us the best
Cause we can rule this game we all play
Pop champagne and make everyday a holiday
Smooth as a rose but hard like steel
From now on, I'ma make my dreams real
On a mission, gotta get there
If you wanna rule, you gotta be in there
Our masterplan is the best
And ain't a man alive that'll beat us to a conquest
Cause this is the reason we was born
To rock on and on and on and on
Look at my eyes, it's hypnotizing
Word is bond, we gotta keep on rising
Chorus
Strictly business, life is hard to handle
Ain't no way I'm gonna stop
Strictly business, ain't no time to get more
Gotta make it to the top
song performed by by LL Cool J
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enjoy Your Day
You approached me to ask a question.
And taking my time to listen...
With a response I had hoped,
You would comprehend.
Not only did you not do that.
But you edited my answer...
To 'insert' what you thought,
For you did not offend.
Now you accuse me of not being direct.
You say my answer,
For you is not effective.
You inject words connected to my response,
To something you rather accept.
And I hear your attempts,
To try to comvince others...
What it is I really meant!
'Why are you leaving? '
You asked me a question.
I answered it.
Now I take my exit.
To that do you also object?
'But I think your response,
Should be open to debate.'
First of all...
You approached me.
And the time given...
I did not hesitate.
You wanted to hear something you formulate.
Something in your mind you hoped I would find.
And I'm not wasting any more of my time...
To play a game of ping pong,
With someone who has yet to learn...
The reason or the effective use of the paddle.
And besides,
If I did decide to play...
It would be with someone,
Who had something meaningful to say.
And all you wish to do is to occupy space,
In the hopes someone will come forward...
To assist you in the use of it!
'Don't you think your point of view is a bit arrogant? '
That depends!
Is that your second question?
Or should I be seeking your permission to leave?
And neither question,
Do I seek from you an answer.
But I will give you the benefit...
To decide for yourself,
Which one eventually applies!
How is that?
Enjoy your day.
'You will not be asked back here again! '
Was I not already here when you entered?
Again...
Enjoy your day!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inventive Thinking And Creative Ways
How can something so vital,
And necessary to the growth...
Of the minds to advance the education,
Needed for today's children to compete...
Be not a focus of those revealed,
To be graduating with degrees.
With a stimulation done to their imaginations.
But...
A stimulation needed,
Is said to be essential...
To their creative thinking process?
A cheating on tests,
Has yet to prove beneficial.
And today...
People find it difficult to address,
That those with performing arts as their background...
Are found flipping burgers,
Or waiting on tables.
When those discovered to be incompetent,
Irresponsible and lack accountablility...
Can not read nor write.
Or recite what has been written.
And yet...
Are hired to perform tasks for corporations,
That now confess...
They seek people who can read, write...
Do the math, entertain, produce AND direct.
But left to find this pool of talent,
Overseas.
What is missing in the minds of those,
Selected to have the qualities...
That determines they are qualified to lead?
Impressive looks?
Or is it image?
And everything created that has succeeded,
Has come from the minds of those...
Innovative enough,
To make lives more lazier today...
By their inventive thinking and creative ways.
And it is difficult to compete,
With those consistently keeping...
Their minds fixed upon staying in rhythm,
And in tune with the beat of things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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