A Dishonesty Has Crept In Me
a dishonesty has crept in me
&
a dishonesty has crept in me.
designs a lie in my mouth
enacts dramas with encounters imaginary,
dreads its vulnerabilities,
writes more scripts to cover up,
and more rehearsals within myself,
restless rollings on a wakeful fear,
the loud hammering of sounds of seconds,
suspicions flood my aching eyes,
and the brain soaks in sweat,
my conscience exiting me punches me hard-
o what a life! a single lie has bled me pale
at last i accept my lie gathering all boldness
now peace floods me with grace
and sleep showers soft blossoms on my soul!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Related quotes
Dishonesty is being clever.
To know more is to do less.
Moderation betrays weakness.
Prudent delay is a cowardly act.
Reckless daring is loyalty.
Obedience is slavery.
Revenge is self destruction.
Cleverness is dishonesty.
Simplicity is helplessness.
Dishonesty succeeds;
Simplicity trails.
To heap pride from dishonesty
Is the dangerous end
The society is heading to.
29.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Western Eyes
Forgotten throes at anothers lie,
The heart of love is their only light,
Faithless greeds consolidating,
Holding down sweet charity,
With western eyes and serpent's breath,
We lay our own conscience to rest.
But i'll aching,
At the view,
Yes i'm breaking,
At the scenes just like you.
They have values of a certain taste,
The innocent they can hardly wait,
To crucify invalidating,
Turning to dishonesty.
With western eyes and serpent's breath
They lay their own conscience to rest.
But then they lie and then they dare to be,
Hidden heroes candidly.
So i'm aching,
At the view,
Yes i'm breaking,
At the scenes just like you.
I feel so cold,
On hookers and gin,
This mess we're in.
song performed by by Portishead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every act of dishonesty has at least two victims the one we think of as the victim, and the perpetrator as well. Each little dishonesty ... makes another little rotten spot somewhere in the perpetrator's psyche.
quote by Lesley Conger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Own Way
I sat down again, knowing the brightened sky,
Returning the exceptional wisdom to the grave;
Full of it I was, when this episode crept on the excitation,
Making it happy, in myself.
I sat at home before the medicine could arrive,
An ambulance adventured far too hard,
Into the territory of a sweet-tempered man,
His illness crept up on him, and took him away.
This sky was devilled, this ground decayed,
For we were in a hospital of disgrace and confinement,
The correcting happened, and we were away,
Like a happy soul my life became its own way.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Love You Out Loud
I sit in my living room thinking of you
And the feelings I fear are coming true
And everything about you is wrong I know it
But I still taste you on my tongue
And I still breathe you in my lungs
And I wish I could stop breaking down
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Don't make a sound
Don't tell a soul
It's 7:00am and I just want to call you
And tell you I'm falling in love
But, there's someone else inside these four walls
If she smells you on my skin
I can't let her know where I've been
I wish I could be with you now
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Wish I could love you out loud
Because I'm under your spell
Wish I could tell the whole world
But I'll just keep it to myself
Don't make a sound
Don't tell a soul
Don't tell them anything
And I won't let you go
Don't say a word
Don't tell a soul
And I shiver at the thought of you
I can't believe that you love me too
And we quiver when we touch
I can't believe I love you so much
And I hate it when you walk away
I know we can't go on this way
But there's magic when we touch
I can't believe I love you so much
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Wish I could love you out loud
Because I'm under your spell
Wish I could tell the whole world
But I'll just keep it to myself
Don't make a sound
Don't tell a soul
Don't tell them anything
And I won't let you go
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Wish I could love you out loud
Because I'm under your spell
Wish I could tell the whole world
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Your Soul
I'm feeling the stress
I'm feeling the pressure
It's setting in
It's breaking me down
I don't know how much longer I can take it
I don't know how much more I can take
I'm seeing the end of myself
I'm seeing that this is all I got
Man I'm depressed
Man I cant do this
I'd never say it out loud, but this is too much
My friend are great they help me forget
I turn to my sins, to my addictions
It's turning me into an empty person
This pressure will break me
I won't say it out loud but I can't take it anymore
I won't say it out loud but this is true horror
I dress it up, I put on a smile, I deaden the pain for awhile
But it's all an act
The pain is quite real
I say I'm tired
And yeah I got no rest
I say I'm sleep deprived, and believe me I don't sleep
But even in my quiet hours...
There is no peace
I say I'm sleep deprived, but it doesn't matter how much I sleep
I'm still tired
It's a never ending tiredness
The feeling is wearing me out
Wearing me out
Until I'm just
Weary
There is no sleep in sleeping
There is no rest and resting
I can't find peace in inner peace
I can't find peace in outer peace
A vacation won't do
So I tell you
It's your soul
The tiredness
It's your soul
The weariness
It's your soul
The depression and longing for more
It's your soul
The brokenness and stress
It's your soul
Feeling like you can't do it
It's your soul
Feeling overwhelmed because it's all too much to handle
It's your soul
The reason you're restless even in times of rest is because
It's your soul
The tiredness and brokenness is in your soul
So let go for once
So let God for once
This problem is deep inside
And no matter how hard you try to hide
You need help
Because it's your soul
So let Jesus restore your soul, because that's rest
So let God give you peace, because He's the only one who can
So let the Holy Spirit comfort you, because He'll mend your soul
It's funny that we always look forward to this vacation or the next
It's funny that we think there's an end to the stress
It's funny that we think we're tired because we don't sleep
It's funny we don't realize we're lost sheep
Because the problem is our soul
Go to Jesus because He promises
'Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden with burden and I will give you rest...'
poem by David Knox
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His Gippsland Girl
Now, money was scarce and work was slack
And love to his heart Crept in,
And he rode away on the Northern track
To war with the world and win;
And he vowed by the locket upon his breast
And its treasure, one red gold curl,
To work with with a will in the fartherest West
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
The hot wind blows on the dusty plain
And the red sun burns above,
But he sees her face at his side again,
And he strikes each blow for love.
He toils by the light of one far-off star
For the winning of one white pearl,
And the swinging pick and the driving bar
Strike home for the Gippsland girl.
With an aching wrist and a back that's bent,
With salt sweat blinding eyes,
'Tis little he'd reek if his life were spent
In the winning so grand a prize.
His shear blades flash and over his hand
The folds of the white fleece curl,
And all day long he sticks to his stand
For the love of his Gippsland girl.
When the shearing's done and the shed's cut out
On Barwon and Narran and Bree;
When the shearer mates with the rouseabout
And the Union man with the free;
When the doors of the shanty, open wide,
An uproarious welcome hurl,
He passes by on the other side
For the sake of his gippsland girl.
When summer lay brown on the Western Land
He rode once more to the South,
Athirst for the touch of a lily hand
And the kiss of a rosebud mouth;
And he sang the songs that shorten the way,
And he envied not king or earl,
And he spared not the spur in his dappled grey
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
At the garden gate when the shadows fell
His hopes in the dusk lay dead;
'Nelli? Oh! Surely you heard that Nell
Is married a month' they said.
He spoke no word; with a dull, dumb pain
At his heart, and his brain awhirl
He turned his grey to the North again
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
And he rung the board in a Paroo shed
By the sweat of his aching brow,
But he blued his cheque, for he grimly said,
'There is nothing to live for now.'
And out and away where the big floods start
And the Darling dust-showers swirl,
There's a drunken shearer who broke his heart
Over a Gippsland girl!
William H Ogilvie
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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I've Lived With It Too Long
My every thought you dispute.
As if my insights,
Were ignited by ego.
Little do you know,
How my life has been lived.
Or those experiences...
That once kept my eyes full of tears.
And those disappointments felt,
That brought the sounds of those who cheered.
As if their actions,
Would have me feel agony and fear.
Let me make this absolutely clear...
You are not the first,
To dispute my thoughts with such a thirst.
Nor will you be the last,
I tell to kiss my ass!
What I observe is a truth being mis-served.
With a dishonesty being done.
And I am not the one,
To easily have it shunned.
Nor do I care who despairs in its presence.
I've lived with it too long.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Truth: : Humour, Inspiration
Tell the truth, are you crazy, the truth is for fools
In my clever world it’s lying which rules
Why opt for something as silly as sincerity
When you can easily choose dishonesty
Then you can tell lies upon lies upon lies
So many out there for you to devise
And believe them yourself, very nearly, why not
You weaved such an interesting, exciting plot
The truth, big deal, the truth is nothing but lies
My truth’s so much better, at least in my eyes
My lies versus the truth, so easy to win
Because I can keep lying ad nauseum
I’ll just spout out a lie, how easy was that
Don’t look for the truth in my kind of chat
You think I’ll be discovered, I’m way too smart
I’ll never say what’s there in my heart
My heart was stunted a long time ago
All this lying stopped any chance it could grow
When you don’t speak from your heart, it’s hard to see
The difference between truth and dishonesty
(Sydney, Australia - 2006)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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I Thought You And I Had An Agreement?
It is not pretty,
When one shows an ugliness.
There is nothing appetizing that greets the eye,
When foam from both sides of the mouth...
Begin to drip from lips baring clenched teeth.
There is nothing inviting that says welcome.
'I'm here to provide you with hospitality galore.'
IF you are foolish enough,
To remain dishonesty when you've turned romance,
Into something by someone that threatens...
Your immediate peace,
This is no time to ask where the beauty is...
From this beast you helped release.
Beg forgiveness.
Especially if a peaceful sleep is wished.
Beg forgiveness.
If you don't,
Never will what you did be forgotten.
Beg forgiveness.
And 'hope'...
No hands approach your throat!
'You say you were...
Where?
Again.
You did not say you were,
There?
I know I did not hear you say that?
I thought,
You and I...
Had an agreement? '
~Uh...
Uh...why are your eyes changing?
Are those...
Fangs? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sunset
WHAT horror lurked within the First Man's brain
As downward to the West the Sun-god stepped,
And paused upon the hill-ridge, ere he leapt
Headlong into the night! What cold, dumb pain
He felt, as still he marked the twilight wane,
And on the dragon Darkness crept and crept,
While beating in his mind the question kept,
“Is this Earth's all? Can Day e'er come again?”
And yet, last night, one watched with listless eyes
The stricken Sun-god struggling in his gore,
With wasting red bedabbled, unto whom
Life's joyous sun shall nevermore uprise:
His dream of light has faded, gloried o'er;
His night has come—a night of endless gloom.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Hatred of dishonesty generally arises from fear of being deceived.
quote by Vauvenargues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Beau
Old age crept upon me
and I didn't notice it!
My hair turned white,
my skin to pale,
my eyes to dim,
I'd gotten frail!
Old age had kicked
me from behind!
So I dyed my hair,
put contacts in,
rouged my cheeks
and then
I took up
different hobbies
to keep my
brain in trim!
Now that I've saved
what little's left
there's a down
side even so!
Mr Wilkins
three doors up
intends to be
my beau!
poem by Ruth Walters
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Fear and Pleasure
pain is the residuals of fear, there is no fear in
the absent of acceptance, for only the mind
can rebuke the suffering of the heart
as the truth comes in a most awaited moment of
your life, the wisdom identify the soul of where
the conscience lives, it is the fear of the Lord where
the wisdom begins; a complete vow and obedient
to the giver of knowledge would guide every pleasure
to overcome fear
entangled between fear and pleasure destroyed the
unifying force that strengthen each aura to a seeking
soul to feel and accept pleasure without fear
make this fear a pleasure of strength, for what
ever encountered pleasure the one who give this
fear, be pleasured in His creation
be the pleasure be assured that what make best
for everybody may leads us to the unity of the soul
that lives in each conscience we possess
the fearless warriors has awaken the pleasure that
the Lord God bestowed, never fear of what pleasure
comes in your life, harmonize the soul with in your
conscience and live the body with the heart that exist
a fear that brings pleasure is a human impulse of
what to become worthy to the kingdom of the God, for
what ever is given, is a gift received and be shared
to all mankind..... and the acceptance brings us to
the pleasure without fear
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Promise of Sleep
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee--but thou shalt find
Thy rest
All day I could not work for woe,
I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro,
Like a leaf on the storm's breast.
Night came and saw my sorrow cease;
Sleep in the chamber stole;
Peace crept about my limbs, and peace
Fell on my stormy soul.
And now I think of only this,--
How I again may woo
The gentle sleep-- who promises
That death is gentle too.
What I crave for!
My heart holds like a lake
Sometimes real sometimes fake
True dreams keep me awake
Hope helps me to be alive
Love nourishes my life.
Memories make me cry
All gone in vain the efforts and try
Once a lie made my life a hell
How painful the story is to tell!
Benevolence increases my grace
Coveting is eating my soul's flesh
Fear is my real foe
Tear is not the weakness though
It is from the heart rainbow
To look afresh the life that follow.
Unwanted weeds grow very fast
So in me the greed and lust
Which make my life an intolerable mess.
Peace of the mind is at a stress.
I let loose my dishonesty
False pride- falsehood- sycophancy
All these are true enemies of my personality.
All around me there is gloom
To sweep away the vices I need a broom
And for the virtues a folder to save
In my heart I always pray and crave
I want to remain honest till I go to the grave.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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I Drove All Night
I had to escape
The city was sticky and cruel
Maybe I should have called you first
But I was dying to get to you
I was dreaming while I drove
The long straight road ahead, uh, huh
Could taste your sweet kisses
Your arms open wide
This fever for you is just burning me up inside
I drove all night to get to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
Crept in your room
Woke you from your sleep
To make love to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
What in this world
Keeps us from tearing apart
No matter where I go I hear
The beating of our one heart
I think about you
When the night is cold and dark
No one can move me
The way that you do
Nothing erases the feeling between me and you
I drove all night to get to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
Crept in your room
Woke you from your sleep
To make love to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
Could taste your sweet kisses
Your arms open wide
This fever for you is just burning me up inside
I drove all night to get to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
Crept in your room
Is that alright
I drove all night
I drove all night to get to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
Crept in your room
Woke you from your sleep
song performed by by Celine Dion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Rescue The Righteous of Hearts, O God!
Alone, ’lone in a sea vast of turmoil,
Where dishonesty has gained upper hand,
For what purpose, the righteous sweat and toil?
Mean-minded men just tend to rule the land.
There is no air of justice anyway;
There is no soul to ever encourage;
Just boredom but prevails by night and day;
Both vanished have the fear of God and age!
And men follow no norms of existence;
The wicked rule over the good of hearts;
Obedience to bosses- a mere pretence;
Good things are much delayed or done in parts.
Frustration fills the honest-most of hearts;
Inhumanly seem men, in fits and starts.
poem by John Celes
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The City of Sleep
Over the edge of the purple down,
Where the single lamplight gleams,
Know ye the road to the Merciful Town
That is hard by the Sea of Dreams--
Where the poor may lay their wrongs away,
And the sick may forget to weep?
But we--pity us! Oh, pity us!
We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We must go back with Policeman Day--
Back from the City of Sleep!
Weary they turn from the scroll and crown,
Fetter and prayer and plough--
They that go up to the Merciful Town,
For her gates are closing now.
It is their right in the Baths of Night
Body and soul to steep,
But we--pity us! ah, pity us!
We wakeful; oh, pity us!--
We must go back with Policeman Day--
Back from the City of Sleep!
Over the edge of the purple down,
Ere the tender dreams begin,
Look--we may look--at the Merciful Town,
But we may not enter in!
Outcasts all, from her guarded wall
Back to our watch we creep:
We--pity us! ah, pity us!
We wakeful; oh, pity us!--
We that go back with Policeman Day--
Back from the City of Sleep!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Once
Once a cheater always a cheat
While living a life just to deceive
To practice fraud, which no-one will applaud
And the truth no one will ever believe.
To be unfaithful or to go astray
Being a crook each and every day
Trying to evade, and then to escape
The evil tricks that you have made.
Once a liar always a liar
Dishonesty will become your empire
Your words will become colder, when you become older
And your only warmth will be hells fire.
The truth it will become your enemy
The words you speak will be your seeds
Truthfulness will be your foe, as your history will unfold
Then your words will be hewed away like weeds.
Once a user always a user
Then later on to become an abuser
That will be yourself, unto you and everyone else
Then lastly you will become a looser.
You take from anyone all you can
Whether they be either woman or man
You think you deserve, what they have earned
And for no one do you ever give a damn.
Once a thief always a thief
Bringing nothing but worries and its grief
To take what is not yours, your dignity is the lure
As dishonesty is all that you do seek.
You take and steal what you do not own
While believing it is yours and yours alone
Though you have no regret, and your never upset
But someday for your thievery you will atone.
Once a whore always a whore
Could any man or I say anymore
Giving away your dignity, with no shame or pity
As you always move to another mans door.
Your soul and body it will become stale
As on the marketplace you put your soul up for sale
But you have no regret, from the men you have kept
Maybe someday they too will hear your conscience wail.
Once a woman you once were
At least that is what I once had heard
You had virtue and pride, and dignity deep inside
But to all now that seems so absurd.
They say it was so very long ago
With a different person inside of you did grow
When you were devout, and sins you did with out
But that was before the real you we did know.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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