Soulless In Suburban Place
A defensive attitude
with an aggrieved tone
a manifestation of doubt
leaves me a feeling of gnawing
a fragile bone
too obsessed
to leave it alone.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Related quotes
Attitude
You go down the pub
You wear make up
And old dads trousers
Why dont you tidy up
You talk like a docker but you act like a queer
You drink champagne then complain its too dear
You try so hard not to follow any trends
Then you cry in your beer and say youve got no friends
But is it any wonder that youve got no friends
But its not the make up
Or the way you dress
Its not your appearance, that they all detest
Its not your manners, that you gotta improve
Ooooo--its your attitude.
Chorus
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
Take off your head phones
Hear whats going on
You cant live in a time zone
Youve gotta move on
But before you get there
Theres one thing youve gotta do
Oh change your attitude
Its your attitude
Its your attitude
Chorus
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
The 80s are here, I know cuz Im staring right at them
But youre still waiting for 1960 to happen
You might have the illness, but youve got the cure
Youve got the answer, you will endure
Youre the only person thats gonna pull you through
Ooh, with your attitude
Chorus
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
You gotta learn to be positive, its your only chance
You mustnt be so defensive, you gotta join in the dance
But it isnt your dancing that youve gotta improve
Ooh, its your attitude.
Chorus
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
Attitude, oo oo oo
Your attitude
Its all the music
Its all in your brain
Youve used all the old licks
Now its all gotta change.
Change your attitude
Its your attitude
Attitude
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As a Democrat in this Senate, I felt aggrieved by some things the other side has done. I have no doubt they feel aggrieved about some of the things we have done.
quote by Mark Pryor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I obsessed with death?
Stroking a head of a snake
Feeling a tiger’s breath
Am I obsessed with death?
Am I obsessed with death?
Daydreaming while crossing a street
of life that I want to have
Am I obsessed with death?
Am I obsessed with death?
When shit start hitting fans
at results I will quietly laugh
Am I obsessed with death?
Am I obsessed with death?
Laying sick on a bed of death
I will cling to what I still have
I simply enjoy the life
Don’t care about death
Jan 12,2010
poem by Slava Olchevski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Are So Fragile
We are so fragile
Advertising lies that are whiter than yours
We are so fragile
They could give us a war just to keep us amused
We are so fragile
I could stay here inside and say its all been done
We are so fragile
Just pretend I never tried, Ill leave it up to you
We are still so young
And it must be wrong but Id do it all the same
We are really so shy
Theres nothing I can do except believe in you
We could always go home
But everyone says this is the place to be
We are so unnatural
But you wouldnt understand, you only deal with men
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Attitude Dancing
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
Theres a new kind of dancing
Thats gonna be the rage
You just leave yourself behind
Like an actor on a stage
Cop a different pose
>from the pose youre in
Shine a different attitude
>from underneath your skin
Attitude dancing
Strut around the floor in a different attitide
Attitude dancing
Any attitude is the proper attitude
Attitude dancing
Dont be afraid to change your attitude
Attitude dancing
Free up your spirit with a new attitude
It dont even matter
If you stretch or shake
And it dont really matter
What moves your body makes
And it dont really matter
What steps you choose to do
Only one thing matters:
Thats your attitude
Your attitude, attitude dancing
Attitude dancing
Strut around the floor in a different attitide
Attitude dancing
Learn to move in another attitude
Attitude dancing
Find the groove in a new attitude
Attitude dancing
Dont be afraid of a new attitude
It dont really matter
What steps you choose to do
Only one thing matters:
Is your attitude
Your attitude, attitude dancing
Strut around the floor in a new attitude
Do the locomotion in a new attitude
Do the mashed potato in a new attitude
Do the hully gully in a new attitude
Find a role you like
Capture it and freeze
Then turn it around
A hundred and eighty degrees
Or if youre at a loss
Observe some natural dude
And turn into a mirror of his attitude
Attitude, attitude, attitude
Dancing
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funky Attitude
You don't have to 'cover' for him.
I know when I am being avoided.
I'm not 'that' slow.
I'm know what's going on.
'Why do you say that? '
Everytime I call...
He says,
'Hello. Leave a message.
And then I hear this tone.
Waiting for the message he leaves.
Then...
For no reason at all,
He hangs up the phone.
'And...uh...
Just how long have you been doing this? '
For at least a month.
Why?
Why are you looking at me like that?
'I agree.
He probaby is avoiding you.
The next time I see him.
I will ask him what you have or have not done.'
Yeah.
Please do.
Because if there is something I've done,
He should at least tell me about it.
'Oh,
I'm sure he will tell you.
Hopefully what he says,
Will not offend.'
It's not me!
I know that.
Everytime 'he' is around 'me...
I've noticed he gets into this,
Funky attitude!
And I am not a mind reader.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Minor Breathing
If only you could see.
What lies behind these fragile eyes.
The knowledge of these tears.
The reason I seem malign.
See, I was never prideful.
And forever, I felt scorned.
One's silence may seem frightful.
When he bows his head forlorn.
Knowing I've never fully triumphed.
Any chaos I have fought.
I cracked my blade in battle.
A repair that can't be bought.
Not pessimistic, nor of naught.
I just see things as they are.
That's probably why I can't believe.
How I've made it this far.
For, every path I trot.
I hear that wretched lonely tone.
And every breath exhaled.
I hear that solemn minor tone.
If only you could feel.
This fixated and tender heart.
These weakening hands still claw.
At it's reflective, fallen shards.
And in my somber dreams.
A cacophony of screams.
This madness, I can take.
Until that melody awakes.
For every move I make.
I hear that wretched lonely tone.
And every vein that pumps.
I hear that solemn minor tone.
That savage, painful tone.
Embedded in my flesh and bone.
The melodic burden drones.
My soul echoes it's metronome.
poem by Aaron Lynn
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Her Laugh Divine
Ah, her laughter known to many
Though they know not what it is
to hear it by the innocent suitor
Happiness never known before
Till she laughs in her tone
the tone of her laugh divine
It's the tone of the lovers happy in life
it's the tone of the angel who passed from mankind
It's the tone of nature in the fall and the spring
It's the tone of perfection known only to those
who's heard her laugh divine
If only but a light chuckle
if only a quiet laugh
if only heard but a moment
joy for life obtained
the joyous feeling of her laugh divine
It's the joy of those engaged to be wed
it's the joy of a life once saved
it's the joy of the parents of a newborn babe
it's the joy of the men knowing the light
it's the joy of her laugh divine
So this is the feeling
nearly an obsession
this is the feeling of love
the love known to those
those only who's heard
Who's heard her laugh divine.
The Art Of Rejection
There is an Art to 'rejection'
First they 'hook you in'
With tales of love and words of 'I love you'
The sugary sweet pill of flattery
Of making coral shine from broken shells
Knowing all to well
Such fragile beauty
Could not bear the lightening breakers
Mountain storms
Until tempest tossed
You lie on stony shores
Bone on bone
salt ravished flesh
Your dry lung cannot breath without the 'other'
There is an 'Art to rejection'
First they hook you in
with soft bait
And looks that catches your approval
Knowing your fragile beauty
Cannot withstand
The windswept mouth of deserts
The hundred clasping hands and tiny mouths
That drink you dry
Until
Bone on bone you lie
yvette m smith dec 08
poem by Yvette Smith
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Fragile (demo 1998)
Four o'clock in the morning
I close my eyes and consider you
Is this some kind of warning
To let me know you're just passing through my life?
It's a good place to be
For someone like you to take solace in me
This is my fragile reality
For someone as eager as you
Can break me in threes
And break through my needs
To get to the dirt
You learned how to hurt... me
Six o'clock in the evening
I brush my hair and will you to know
Is this some kind of teasing?
And are you prepared to be half as true as you try,
As you try hard to be?
Someone so cautious and careful and free
And why are you waiting for me?
You're steady and stable and able to be close to me
I'm strapped to my seat
The tables have turned
You know how they burn right through me
Why do you wrestle with my right to be different from you?
Why do you settle for me if it's not what you wanted to do?
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
Only with you
Four o'clock in the morning
I hold your head and take care of you
Are these symptoms of touring?
Did someone you love leave you black and blue?
Sometime, somewhere I'll never be
Aware of misfortunes and torture and grief
This life is a good place to be
For someone as fragile as you
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you
I'm fragile too (7x)
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you.
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dare I Hope?
Dare I hope to hope?
Is it safe? Is it right?
Am I hoping for nothing
But a black and empty night?
Hope should make me happy.
I should laugh, sing, and dance
Because I am hoping. Right?
Ha! Not a chance.
How is it that hope can leave me
Trembling in the darkness?
How is it that something so “good”
Should leave me feeling helpless?
Dare I hope to hope?
What difference does it make?
Fate will be fate in the end,
It will either “make or break.”
Does Fate regard my hope?
Does She listen? Or care?
Am I shooting for a star that
Simply isn’t there?
I cannot know! Oh, God
Why must I struggle with
This doubt that pulls at me
Rends me, limb from limb?
What sort of hope leaves pain
Where it should instead leave joy?
Is this hope at all? Or perhaps
Some wicked demon’s ploy?
I cannot know! Dear heaven!
How can I even begin to dare
To hope for something – anything?
Is no assurance there?
No promise? No guarantee?
I cannot stand it! I cannot!
The doubt is a plague
In my every thought.
Dare I hope to hope
In a hope that leaves me dry
And lost? How can I dare
To hope in hope? How can I?
poem by Sophia White
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Count Me Out
What kind of love is this that leaves me feeling cold
You look right through me what see nobody knows
Youre in a world all by yourself - needing no one else
Feeling so secure
Youre on the road to nowhere, left your past behind
Whats to become of me, should feelings be denied
Another time another place, would I be the same old face
For you to have around
Theres no way in, theres no way out Im caught in the middle
Why must you leave my heart in doubt
We have a one way love that flows from me to you
Theres nothing more for me to lose
Were through with talking now we know that its the end
Weve played our foolish games amd its useless to pretend
It seems like only yesterday, that love had come to stay
How could we be so blind
Theres no way in, theres no way out Im caught in the middle
Why must you leave my heart in doubt
We have a one way love that flows from me to you
Theres nothing more for me to lose
I dont know where your heart is or whats inside your head
If this is love you said it, if this is love forget it
If this is love then count me out
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dare I Hope?
Dare I hope to hope?
Is it safe? Is it right?
Am I hoping for nothing
But a black and empty night?
Hope should make me happy.
I should laugh, sing, and dance
Because I am hoping. Right?
Ha! Not a chance.
How is it that hope can leave me
Trembling in the darkness?
How is it that something so 'good'
Should leave me feeling helpless?
Dare I hope to hope?
What difference does it make?
Fate will be fate in the end,
It will either 'make or break.'
Does Fate regard my hope?
Does She listen? Or care?
Am I shooting for a star that
Simply isn't there?
I cannot know! Oh, God
Why must I struggle with
This doubt that pulls at me
Rends me, limb from limb?
What sort of hope leaves pain
Where it should instead leave joy?
Is this hope at all? Or perhaps
Some wicked demon's ploy?
I cannot know! Dear heaven!
How can I even begin to dare
To hope for something – anything?
Is no assurance there?
No promise? No guarantee?
I cannot stand it! I cannot!
The doubt is a plague
In my every thought.
Dare I hope to hope
In a hope that leaves me dry
And lost? How can I dare
To hope in hope? How can I?
Sophia White
poem by Lolita Hiroshi
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Beauty Contest
Damsel in distress is quite submissive
Look how somber my vanity is
A feminine human creature
Superficial, seducing detour
Im going to the mall for the cookie cutter
The ugly duckling will always suffer
Contaminated standards, I try to fight it
I better get back on my diet
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Beauty contest
Howd my vanity get such a mess?
Beauty contest
Im obsessed
Reduce myself, I got the strict restrictions
Not sexy enough without the regulations
A melting point countdown the fading features
Born to blossom and bloom to perish
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Beauty contest
Oh, Ive got to get out of this mess
Beauty contest
Im obsessed
And Ive fallen, I cant help myself
Im feeling envious of all the rest
Youre bringing out the lemming in me
A victim of the cattle call disease
Not easy to be me
I feel swollen
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Beauty contest
Howd my vanity get such a mess?
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Beauty contest
Ive got to get out of this mess
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Obsessed with the beauty contest
Beauty contest
Howd my vanity get such a mess?
Caught up in the beauty contest
Caught up in the beauty contest
Caught up in the beauty contest
Caught up in the beauty contest
Caught up in the beauty contest
And I feel swollen
Howd my vanity get such a mess?
My vanitys a mess
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speculation
The right things done by some...
Does not right things done,
By everyone.
Rituals performed...
May leave a feeling of forlorn,
Adorned by those addicted to agitation.
Especially In situations accepted as an adulation!
'Adulation?
What is there to admire,
In this mental infestation?
This dismiss of motivation...
Should have long expired.
Examined for its faults and left retired!
Many see this as a manifestation!
A certain suffering,
That brings 'closure' to most things.
It's the opposite of expecting blessings and gifts!
To be denied in some eyes...
Brings about a restoration,
And leaves one rejuvenized!
'Like a holding onto a stubborness...
By someone who knows this isn't the best,
Yet sits unresisting
In some kind of personal conquest? '
The right things done by some...
Does not right things done,
By everyone.
Rituals performed...
May leave a feeling of forlorn,
Adorned by those addicted to agitation.
Especially In situations accepted as an adulation!
In speculation this will solve all situations!
And a praise will be bestowed,
Since this disposition is the one they chose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am No Longer A Puppy
You are correct.
No I don't know you.
Nor am I obsessed,
With the thought...
That leaves me guessing,
Which identity I've witnessed...
Is the one that is the basic you.
You seem to believe a game of hide and seek,
Adds to your allure and captivates with mystique.
But those games you play of fake the chaser,
Hard to get and guess 'my' mood...
Is pushing me towards the exit.
To leave you and have no regrets.
You are correct.
No I don't know you.
Nor am I obsessed,
With the thought...
That leaves me guessing,
Which identity I've witnessed...
Is the one that is the basic you.
If you haven't noticed,
I am no longer a puppy.
But I can be a fulltime dog...
In a wide opened field,
I can cruise if I choose to occupy my day.
I am with you because of an interest.
Not to be tested for a patience endured.
If you seek a playmate to exchange,
In the playing of games...
I suggest you select someone,
On your level and equally immature.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Her Laughter (Revision of Her Laugh Divine)
Ah... her laughter,
Known to many, though they know not
That which is heard by the innocent suitor;
Happiness, never known before,
'Til she laughs in cadence divine:
The tone of lovers, happy in life,
The tone of angels who have passed from mankind
To glorious heaven;
The tone of nature in autumn and spring;
If only a light titter;
A quiet chortle;
Only heard a moment,
Still for life obtained:
The joy of her laughter
The joy of those soon to be wed;
The joy of life once saved;
The joy of parent's newborn;
The joy of men who know the light
The joyous tone of perfection....
This feeling, nearly an obsession;
This feeling of love,
Known only to those who have heard her laugh.
People can get obsessed with romance, they can get obsessed with political paranoia, they can get obsessed with horror. It's isn't the fault of the subject matter that creates the obsession, I don't think.
quote by Adam Arkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They only feel real when...
‘they only feel real when
pretending to be themselves…’
sometimes, psychology and poetry and philosophy
come close together; and like a dog
meeting another dog for the first time,
we’re cautious – that statement has legs
and claws and teeth … do we want to meet it,
might it be more fierce than it looks,
is it that ‘too much truth’ which mankind - says poor Tom -
cannot bear?
our tails quarter-wag, wag and stop,
our weight’s on our back legs,
caution is advised..
we’ll back away right now,
wait for the next meeting;
meanwhile, there’s always the tree to sniff,
a sharp reminder of the bone we’ll gnaw,
hide, dig up yet again, and gnaw…
gnawing on our own blood not the bone,
living a dog’s life, a dogged life,
mongrel, thoroughbred, alike:
.
only feeling real, when
pretending to be ourselves.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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