Return To Youth
Return to the convenience of youth like me,
My enemies are absent, even in my dormitory.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Your Convenience At My Expense
Here!
I have decided it was easier for me,
To return this bucket with your miseries...
Than to keep you with beliefs,
You can come to me to add more to them...
At your convenience.
Well...
Your convenience at my expense,
Has ended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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(No More) Love At Your Convenience
Your childish game is over now.
Lost your power over night some how.
Better see it ain't gonna be like it used to be.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your command.
No more love at your convenience.
Lots of time late at night, I really needed you.
I'm telling you tonight's the night.
Close your mouth
Turn off the light.
Pull me babe.
Pull me down closer on you.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your command.
No more love at your convenience.
Lots of time late at night, I really needed you.
I really needed you.
I really needed you.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your command.
No more love at your convenience.
Quit your tears and dry your eyes.
You know I hate to see you cry.
Don't you see,
Things gotta be what they got to.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Absent Friends
We often speak about
the fun we used to have
whenever we retrace our memories,
remembering our absent friends.
We remember our growing years,
the smiles on our faces
and the funny things we did
with our absent friends.
As the years roll on their way
and age creeps up on us
we sometimes like to reflect
on our long gone absent friends.
The flower of youth has withered,
but the flower never died.
It is still locked in our memory
when we remember our absent friends.
1 July 2012
poem by David Harris
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Convenience
Needing!
And again I am from you...
Addiction free.
What you provided was not love.
What you provided,
Was a convenience to me.
A convenience to have someone there.
To hear breathing the air.
As if the company kept...
Communicated with chemistry.
Needing!
And again I am from you...
Addiction free.
It occurred to me,
To you I was just something to do.
And that wasn't done,
Seriously.
Even together,
You preferred to play hide and seek.
And I discovered,
I want and need love.
And when you left that feeling stayed.
Then I knew what you gave,
Was not love.
But a game to be played.
Needing!
And again I am from you...
Addiction free.
What you provided was not love.
What you provided,
Was a convenience to me.
A convenience that eventually,
Faded.
After the quick and ease of preparation,
Left immediately upon its release.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not There
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
He was the kind to prioritize
His own affairs.
Often he was defended...
By a mother who pretended,
He was just away on 'leave'
And will return when that purpose ended!
But those in his care,
Felt he was the one not aware.
He was not there...
And that is all they knew!
Unless he was a magician?
And 'that' he wasn't around,
To deny or prove!
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
To watch,
Or to lay...
A footprint down on the ground!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Absent From Routine
Absent but not of mind.
Too protective of precious consciousness,
Peace of mind and happiness.
Absent from nonsense.
Professed and not guessed.
And not seeking any to find.
To torment like the rest.
Absent from routine,
And thoughts of wasting time.
Absent from props used for chaos.
And those creating it to market!
As if this is a goldmine.
And the grease of sleaze,
Is there to slop it not stop it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Youth Youth Youth
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Don't wanna spend my life saving up for things
Don't wanna have what a steady job brings
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Don't wanna stay at home not making any noise
I've always got to be out
I've always got to have a choice
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Wearied
Return to me like a ghost, a wearied creature like a man
Who was so appalled by youth that he died and became as I can.
Return to me as if you know me from somewhere else,
The place is no secret from where you came, someone else.
Return now, return and frighten me as a good ghost
Frying bacon, working magic on a basis easternmost.
I seek refuge from you, for the returning is so secret,
I can not find a more evil man than you, a man to interpret.
poem by Naveed Akram
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This Kid Must Be Out Of His Mind
Strong I've been for so long.
And no sense enough to run,
When threats would come...
To frighten others to fear,
Their own shadows.
And scuttle them into huddles,
That protected in a security bubble...
I just did not have at my convenience.
I seem to have sweated my insecurities away.
My legs would stiffen and my feet would freeze.
And I believe I turned my shock into blocks of defense...
Leaving any enemies to believe,
I remained behind as a decoy just to tease.
But...
No!
Strong I've been for so long.
And no sense enough to run,
When threats would come...
To frighten others to fear,
Their own shadows.
And scuttle them into huddles,
That protected in a security bubble...
I just did not have at my convenience.
And...
I couldn't move or limp away in a faint.
I just stood with my eyes closed,
With fists balled.
As I would listen to the predators say,
'This kid must be out of his mind.
Maybe he's blind?
Or just crazed.'
And then without warning,
I'd hear them mumble to then walk away.
~Oh yeah?
Yeah?
You better go!
You don't know 'Who' I know!
God...
I thank you so much! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We're not children here. The law is-how should I put it? A convenience. Or a convenience for some people, and an inconvenience for other people.
quote by Paul Castellano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Age considers, youth ventures
Age considers, youth ventures
Age visualizes, youth dreams
Age makes theories, youth experiments
Age loves, youth longs
Age sees people, youth sees places
Age knows belongings, youth discovers them
Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain
Age has heart, youth has mind
Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful
Age ponders, youth wonders
Age recounts, youth counts
Age is experienced, youth is in experience
Age is cautious, youth dashes
Age floats, youth swims
Age lives, youth still making a living
Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination
Age is confident, youth is competent
Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living
Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future
Age is grown, youth is crown
Ageless is youth, youthless is age
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Marriage is irrevocable bond.[India]
Kovelon, in love and arts an acumen,
Had as consort, Kannakhi of his commune,
Won as beloved, Madhavi, a courtesan,
And left her, to return to pavilion.
Kannakhi’s love for him was devotional.
Kovelon’s in return was conventional.
His love for Madhavi was passion ridden.
Madhavi’s love in turn was emotional.
Madhavi was deserted and forgotten.
But she did not desert the ill gotten.
She stayed single against her frailties,
And surpassed Kannakhi in all chastity.
Love of passion and love of emotion
Are for harmony a better combination.
Love of convenience and of devotion
Hardly can contribute to its elevation.
What made Kovelon return to Kannakhi,
A woman with no art and romance?
The marriage is irredeemable bond
Above flesh, where return all prodigal men.
27.05.2001, Pmdi.
[This is the summery of a Tamil historical classic, Silappathikaram, written more than a millennium]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You Will Come To Know The Obvious
Why is that crowd over there...
Backed up into a corner.
Bickering.
AND pointing fingers at one another?
'Well...
As the story goes...
They had been the movers and shakers.
Determined many years ago,
That they would advance themselves...
By chosing people to depict as their enemies.'
Enemies?
'Yep!
As the story goes.
Now they have become a fixture around here,
As a reference to those days long gone.
And also...
Folks come from all over the globe,
To be entertained by their shananigans.'
That's amusing and quite interesting.
What has happened to those,
They once had depicted as their enemies?
Do you see the people walking up and down the street freely,
Appearing as happily and unconcerned as if nothing...
But the doing as they wish,
Is their utmost priority?
'No...
Don't tell me.
They are not the ones that had been depicted as enemies? '
Okay.
I wont tell you.
However...
If you prolong you visit,
You will come to know the obvious for yourself.
And they unconsciously,
Backed themselves up into that corner.
And everyday they return to the same place...
To argue about their version of unity,
And what is good for the community.
'Aren't their tactics a bit outdated? '
Sssshhh.
Someone will hear you.
And we've become quite satisfiied,
With the keeping of things...
Just the way they are.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For the Sake of Convenience
For the sake of convenience, we ignore
The epidemic of impertinence.
We don't abnegate from what we adore
For the sake of convenience.
We are taught to be obsessed. We have been
Educated by a standardized test,
That insinuates choice cannot happen.
We are taught be obsessed.
We distract our weary minds with the news,
Believing a culture that is designed—
Culture to consume in a single-use.
We distract our weary minds.
We learn what we are told—that we must
Cover any fresh perspective with mold.
For the sake of convenience, we have trust.
We learn what we are told.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Give Us Time
Give us,
Time to dignify our own insanities.
Give us...
More than seconds to reflect the steps taken.
And why they appear to be absent of benefit.
Are there hidden meanings,
As to why we break our necks...
Unimprovised?
Give us,
Purpose that is indepth.
And feeds a constant flow of energy.
One others detect...
Before we throw up our noses.
Give us,
Something else to think of,
Than a craving to hunt for enemies.
Give us,
Discipline within ourselves.
Bringing to us an inner peace.
Or something that is believable.
Give us,
Hope that satifies and stays,
Without the onset of customary regrets.
Give us,
Courage to postpone those noises in our heads...
To produce an increase of interest,
In excuses from us fading.
And...
Many of us had, at one time, easily implemented them.
With a joy and reverance.
Please return to us these values,
Since many of us are be suspected of treason.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Turkish Heritage Departing
To return at last from Turkey
with my memories safely stored
between thin clear plastic pages.
This is all I want from Turkey
where youth and beauty are bled
lifeblood devalues faster than wages.
This is all I take from Turkey
where youth and beauty were bet
and currency falls faster than wages.
To return at last from Turkey.
It is 1991 the Gulf War is done.
Oil oils profit wars under desert sun.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Solitude
Tim he was a good friend
Yea was a brother of mine
We were imaginary comic book superheroes
Kids wasting time
We were prisoners of our youth
We were growing up strong
til the day he was taken away
For something he did wrong
Tim came round just the other day
And boy he had some stories to tell
His mama kept him locked up in a rehab
Although the doctors said he was well
He said yeah I been through the anger
And the hatred towards my mom
And I put all that behind me
Just tell me what was it like to go to your prom
He said thank you mom for fixing
My clouded broken mind
But excuse me if I seem a little rude
While I was missing my childhood, my brother and my prime
You enjoyed the convenience of my solitude
Well growing up these days just aint easy
And the kids theyre doing the best that they can
So mama you better think twice
Before you lock your kid up and throw away the key
cause soon your little boy is gonna be a man
He said thank you mom for fixing
My clouded broken mind
But excuse me if I seem a little rude
While I was missing my childhood, my brother and my prime
You enjoyed the convenience of my solitude
Tim left town yesterday
He left me with these words
He said yeah I know this lifes got a lot to give
But my childhood is gone
And Im not afraid of dying
Im gonna grab the world by the horns and learn how to live
He said thank you mom for fixing
My clouded broken mind
But excuse me if I seem a little rude
While I was missing my childhood, my brother and my prime
You enjoyed the convenience of my solitude
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell Address at the Argyle Hall
Fellow Citizens of Dundee.
I now must bid farewell to ye.
For I am going to London far away.
But when I will return again I cannot say.
Farewell! Farewell! to the bonnie banks o' the Silvery Tay.
Also the beautiful Hill o' Balgay.
And the ill fated Bridge o' the Silvery Tay.
Which I will remember when I am far away.
Farewell! to my friends and, patrons all.
That rallied around me in the Music Hall.
And those that has rallied around me to night,
I shall not forget when out of sight.
And, if I ever return to Dundee again,
I hope it will be with the laurels of fame.
Plac'd on my brow by dame fortune that fickle Jade.
And, to Court her favour I am not afraid.
Farewell! to every one in the Argyle Hall.
That has Come to hear McGonagall.
Recite, and sing, his Songs to night.
Which I hope will long be rernember'd when I'm out of sight.
Adieu to all my enemies that want to mock me when passing by.
But I excuse them for their ignorance and leave them to the most high.
And, once again, my friends, and enemies. I bid ye all good bye.
And when I am gone ye will for me heave a sigh :-
I return my thanks to my Chairman and my Committee,
For the Kindness they have always shown to me.
I hope the Lord! will protect them when I am far away.
And prosper them in all their undertakings by night and by day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Return!
RETURN, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn--
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmed praying hands that meet and yearn--
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Naught but that votive sign for thy return--
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No wither'd welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famish'd fire that lived to burn--
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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