Sorry To Say
‘Sorry' is the easiest excuse
sometimes, deliberately misused
comes very handy, for unmindful lapses
saving both from an angry course, often.
there seems to be a misconception, that
seeking ‘sorry' has some limitations
as it is seldom heard or used
among family members, as hardly, I have seen.
All are respectable individuals
no bars, immunities, exclusions, age-division
upon commission or omission, we are bound to say sorry
with a genuine air of repentance, care and reverence
poem by Santhana Louis

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I Could Be Interrogated For the Rest of My Life
Hey...
What can I say?
I am not without,
My own severe limitations.
If breasts do not sit on the chest,
As my fantasies expect them...
I could be interrogated for the rest of my life,
If shown a face picture of my ex-wives.
I would not remember who they were,
Standing next to me covered in street clothes.
But I could tell you...
Which one had those that bounced.
And who had the ones that perked,
As if perched.
And how you have described them,
I can tell you too have no clue.
They remain as far as I know...
Respectable women.
Unless time has changed their points of view.
I know I have memory lapses.
And I am sure some sagging has occurred,
On those two!
Time has a way of changing definition.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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A man does not sin by commission only, but often by omission.
Marcus Aurelius in Meditations

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The omission of good is no less reprehensible than the commission of evil.
The Easiest Thing
Suddenly theres meaning
To all my hoping and dreaming
And joy I have never felt before
Suddenly theres a reason
Something I can believe in
And finally I know what my heart is for
This is the easiest thing to do
Yes the easiest thing to do
Its as simple and natural as
Breathing out and breathing in
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Suddenly Im weightless
Feel I could fly or walk on
With my feet never touching the ground
And I know Im not crazy
And now I know Im not sleeping
No the searching is over
And baby Ive found
This is the easiest thing to do
Its the easiest thing to do
Its as simple and as natural as
Breathing out and breathing in
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Suddenly the sadness is gone
And I dont have to tell myself
To struggle through
To carry on
This is the easiest thing to do
Its the easiest thing to do
Its as simple and as natural as
Breathing out and breathing in
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Written by stephanie lewis & rob mathes
song performed by by Vanessa Williams

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eastiest Thing
Suddenly theres a meaning
To all my hoping and dreaming
And joy I have never felt before
Suddenly theres a reason
Something I can believe in
And finally I know what my heart is for
This is the easiest thing to do
Yes the easiest thing to do
Its as simple and as natural as
Breathing out and breathing in
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Suddenly Im weightless
Feel I could fly or could walk on
With my feet never touching the ground
And I know Im not crazy
No the searching is over
And baby Ive found
This is the easiest thing to do
Its the easiest thing to do
Its as simple and as natural as
Breathing out and breathing in
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Suddenly the sadness is gone
And I dont have to tell myself
To struggle through
To carry on
This is the easiest thing to do
Its the easiest thing to do
Its as simple and as natural as
Breathing out and breathing in
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
Yes the easiest thing is loving you
song performed by by Vanessa Williams

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Respectable Street
Heard the neighbour slam his car door,
Don't he realise this is respectable street?
What d'you think he bought that car for?
'cause he realise this is respectable street
Now they talk about absorption,
In cosmopolitan proportions to their daughters,
As they speak of child prevention,
And immaculate receptions on their portable,
Sony entertainment centres.
Heard the neighbour slam his car door,
Don't he realise this is respectable street?
What d'you think he bought that car for?
'cause he realise this is respectable street
Now she speak about diseases,
And which proposition pleases best her old man,
Avon lady fills the creases,
When she manages to squeeze in past the caravans,
That never move from their front gardens.
It's in the order of their hedgerows,
It's in the way their curtains open and close,
It's in the look they give you down their nose,
All part of decency's jigsaw i suppose.
Sunday church and they look fetching,
Saturday night saw him stretching over our fence,
Bang the wall for me to turn down,
I can see them with their stern frown,
As they dispense the kind of look that says they're perfect.
Heard the neighbour slam his car door,
Don't he realise this is respectable street?
What d'you think he bought that car for?
'cause he realise this is respectable street
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is not a family
This is not a family...
No not to me... a family is people who are there for you they are the people that you trust to make sure your okay they are the people that believe in you and they are the people who will never lie to you and always be honest
This is not a family...
For a family its pretty sad to think we treat one another as nothing talk to eachother as if we dont care for one another and backstab and walk on one another because we can
This is not a family...
I use to think i had it good till i grew up and relized family shouldnt bring eachother down... family shouldnt make you cry... family shouldnt make you think you will be nothing and stay nothing for....
This is not a family...
Instead its just a sad excuse of people who put up with eachother not because they want to but because they have to... for this family that i have i hope that all of you will soon relize before its too late that i love my family... and i believe in my family... and that even though my household is not right at all... i know that i will become something... not because you make me think i cant... its because i believe in myself and with that i know i will someday do great things...
FOR this is not a family...
but it is my family
poem by Andrea Thanasas

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Which Way That Wind Actually Blew To Blow
Often complaints are heard,
From grown men and women...
Who they blame for their insecurities.
While they did nothing innocently,
To become tearfully mistreated.
Either it will be,
Parents or other family members.
Or friends that eventually leave them,
To discover they have had it seeking...
Ways to please the selfishness of whims.
Only to hear from the mouths of others,
How someone who had been used,
Is now accused of abandonment.
Leaving only those who came to know,
Which way that wind actually blew to blow.
With the ceasing of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Handy Dandy
Handy dandy, controversy surrounds him
He been around the world and back again
Something in the moonlight still hounds him
Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy dandy, if every bone in his body was broken he would never admit it
He got an all girl orchestra and when he says
Strike up the band, they hit it
Handy dandy, handy dandy
Bridge #1:
You say, what are ya made of?
He says, can you repeat what you said?
Youll say, what are you afraid of?
Hell say, nothin neither live nor dead.
Handy dandy, he got a stick in his hand and a pocket full of money
He says, darling, tell me the truth, how much time I got?
She says, you got all the time in the world, honey.
Handy dandy, handy dandy
Bridge #2:
Hes got that clear crystal fountain
Hes got that soft silky skin
Hes got that fortress on the mountain
With no doors, no windows, no thieves can break in
Handy dandy, sitting with a girl named nancy in a garden feelin kind of lazy
He says, ya want a gun? Ill give you one. she says, boy, you talking crazy.
Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy dandy, pour him another brandy
Handy dandy, he got a basket of flowers and a bag full or sorrow
He finishes his drink, he gets up from the table he says,
Okay, boys, Ill see you tomorrow.
Handy dandy, handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things They Never Told Me
They lied to me when I was young
(Or perhaps sinned by omission)
Never was there any mention made
Of a body’s loss of commission
Perhaps the flaw of foolish youth
I blocked their words and missed the truth
Yet I could swear I never heard them
(Though witnessed clues now and again)
Now I discover each day brings the chore
Of merely rising up and the daily bore
To deal with each bodily requirement
(Oh thank God for early retirement)
I forgive them for any oversight
It matters little when late at night
I recline in bed quite grateful for
Sleep I’ve learned to appreciate more
poem by Mary Havran

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Too Boundless Is The Universe
Too boundless without a sighted barrier,
Is the universe.
And you expect me to accept,
In agreement...
Your limitations?
I do.
I accept 'your' limitations.
But understand this,
If you can.
Those limits are yours.
However...
Within them,
Do not come looking for me.
I am not seeking to please your comforts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Saying the unspeakable
Such as President Obama
may not say it; but I
who am nobody, may speak it:
the God of many names and One
does not wish division;
you and I (there are no others?)
do not wish division;
who makes division?
Why do all seek an ‘enemy’?
The dispossessed invent an enemy
on whom to blame their plight;
the rich invent an enemy
to excuse their greed;
those who worship God under one name
make enemy of those who worship God
under another name;
even those who worship God under the same name
make sects in order to invent an enemy;
is it because it is easier
to make an enemy than a friend?
is it easier to fear
than to love?
is it easier to hate
than to love?
is it easier to count to two
than think of three or one?
do we feel more powerful
if we have an enemy?
and now we fire at enemies
invisible beyond the horizon..
are enemies more attractive
to our life than friends?
Tell me, poets, tell me, sages;
tell me, saints; oh tell me God;
tell me, arithmeticians:
when division multiplies
our enemies, why do we
so love division?
The God of many names and One
makes division in Himself
with love and without hate;
you and I (there are no others?)
love each other all the more
in the sameness of our differences;
does human kind
now hate itself so much?
who thinks division, loves division?
makes an enemy of otherness?
forgets that God is One?
poem by Michael Shepherd

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Periodic Appearances
I choose to keep my affairs,
To myself.
Not because I am discreet,
Deliberately.
I can be.
Since my privacy is cherished.
There are some matters,
That need to be kept left best...
In secret.
This freshens periodic appearances,
When one's business...
Is seldom heard whispered,
On the streets.
Whether imagined or creatively,
Embellished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Over the past year, several cases of human rights abuses, specifically sexual exploitation and abuse, by individuals involved in U.N. peacekeeping operations have raised the suspicions of many Members of Congress and members of the International Relations Committee.
quote by Michael McCaul

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before we as individuals are even conscious of our existence we have been profoundly influenced for a considerable time (since before birth) by our relationship to other individuals who have complicated histories, and are members of a society which has an infinitely more complicated and longer history than they do (and are members of it at a particular time and place in that history); and by the time we are able to make conscious choices we are already making use of categories in a language which has reached a particular degree of development through the lives of countless generations of human beings before us. . . . We are social creatures to the inmost centre of our being. The notion that one can begin anything at all from scratch, free from the past, or unindebted to others, could not conceivably be more wrong.
quote by Karl Popper

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man
It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts,
That all sin is divided into two parts.
One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important,
And it is what you are doing when you are doing something you ortant,
And the other kind of sin is just the opposite and is called a sin of omission
and is equally bad in the eyes of all right-thinking people, from
Billy Sunday to Buddha,
And it consists of not having done something you shuddha.
I might as well give you my opinion of these two kinds of sin as long as,
in a way, against each other we are pitting them,
And that is, don't bother your head about the sins of commission because
however sinful, they must at least be fun or else you wouldn't be
committing them.
It is the sin of omission, the second kind of sin,
That lays eggs under your skin.
The way you really get painfully bitten
Is by the insurance you haven't taken out and the checks you haven't added up
the stubs of and the appointments you haven't kept and the bills you
haven't paid and the letters you haven't written.
Also, about sins of omission there is one particularly painful lack of beauty,
Namely, it isn't as though it had been a riotous red-letter day or night every
time you neglected to do your duty;
You didn't get a wicked forbidden thrill
Every time you let a policy lapse or forget to pay a bill;
You didn't slap the lads in the tavern on the back and loudly cry Whee,
Let's all fail to write just one more letter before we go home, and this round
of unwritten letters is on me.
No, you never get any fun
Out of things you haven't done,
But they are the things that I do not like to be amid,
Because the suitable things you didn't do give you a lot more trouble than the
unsuitable things you did.
The moral is that it is probably better not to sin at all, but if some kind of
sin you must be pursuing,
Well, remember to do it by doing rather than by not doing.
poem by Ogden Nash

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O my God excuse me
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
Without borrowing and
Without stealing
It is quite impossible
To live with dignity
And what is dignity
I am unable to understand
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
Being human
I be committed to
Public cause
I am not able to do it
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
I am unable to practice
Tolerance and create
Nuisance
I am unable to understand
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
The mistake I have done
And the punishment
I have got
O God excuse me
Excuse me.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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A Rendezvous
Nightly I put up this humble petition:
'Forgive me, O Father of Glories,
My sins of commission, my sins of omission,
My sins of the Mission Dolores.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce

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The commission members themselves were never briefed on Able Danger.
quote by Curt Weldon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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