An honor is not diminished for being shared.
Lois McMaster Bujold in Shards of Honor (1986)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An honor is not diminished for being shared.
quote by Lois McMaster Bujold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Recap:
Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
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Demographics had established,
The success and conditions...
Of a targeted marketing.
To direct effective hype,
Among those selected to be chosen.
Those days have faded away,
From the land of steady habits.
And drift as nomads depleted of funds,
Are those unable to repay for a credited feasting done.
And elimination of debits wished,
Increase and do not leave.
So those rush away in the kicking up of dust...
With tears from their eyes drippimg as they weep.
Recap:
Those enforced to be meek and weak,
Are solicited to exhaust their kept treasures.
In the hopes of prolonging,
The ones addicted to feeding themselves selfishly.
Recap:
Conditions for optimistic change gone ignored has past.
This can not be restored to those celebrating,
In the hopes to inflict upon others their will.
Closed are those doors.
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The ones found designing deceitful traps,
Have become entrapped.
Their ways have not a dividend saved...
For them to expect a profit that is returned.
Recap:
Within their own borders...
They become crazed!
Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
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But a tired retreading,
Just wont allow that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Finished I'm Not
I may now and then,
Step away for a minute.
To replenish my energy.
And to keep it from being diminished.
To consider myself finished,
Would be foolish to admit.
When so much I have not tapped,
To think to declare I have nothing there,
To give right back!
There's more!
And finished I'm not.
I am far from depleted...
Or diminished to stop.
I may now and then,
Step away for a minute,
To replenish my energy.
But to say its been diminished?
Diminished it's not!
There's more!
And finished I'm not.
I will not be depleted or diminished to stop!
I know,
There is more I've got!
I will not be depleted or diminished to stop!
To consider myself finished,
Would be foolish to admit.
When so much I have not tapped,
To think to declare I have nothing there,
To give right back!
There's more!
And finished I'm not.
I will not be depleted or diminished to stop!
I know,
There is more I've got!
I will not be depleted or diminished to stop!
There's more!
And finished I'm not.
I know,
There is more I've got!
There's more!
And finished I'm not.
I will not be depleted or diminished to stop!
I'll not be depleted or diminished to stop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Have Done This To Themselves
I miss sincerity.
And my friends and family members,
That shared theirs with me...
Who have moved on to other 'realms'.
I miss sincerity.
Too many today are so dishonest.
When someone opens their mouth,
My first reaction is to disbelieve.
People have done this to themselves.
Not to treasure one's integrity,
Is a sign an identity is lost.
And nothing is valued but delusion.
People have done this to themselves.
To express disrespect and receive it,
As if expected...
Is a quality of life lived not uplifted but diminished.
I miss sincerity.
And my friends and family members,
That shared theirs with me...
Who have moved on to other 'realms' of 'this' experience.
I miss sincerity.
Too many today are so dishonest.
When someone opens their mouth,
My first reaction is to disbelieve,
Not one word but every word said.
People have done this to themselves.
To express disrespect and receive it,
As if expected...
Is a quality of life lived not uplifted but diminished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Diminished
Diminished,
Pity,
Pretty,
Prey,
Satisfied! !
But, you are now surrounded with famine;
For, your ways are now crooked.
Ruin,
Repay,
Match,
Land,
Behold! !
According to your ways and according to your love;
For, the rod had now blossomed and,
Your pride has now budded!
And, you have been diminished in size.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Diminished
I watched you fall.
I think I pushed.
Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe diminished
Maybe I'm innocent
Maybe I'm finished
Maybe I blacked out.
How do I play this?
I will give my best today
I will give myself away
I have never hurt anything
Is the jury wavering?
Do they know I sing?
Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe diminished
How do I
song performed by by R.E.M. from Up
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burden Bearer
Shared Joy is double joy,
It keeps on multiplying.
Shared Sorrow is half a sorrow
In time will be decreasing.
Shared Hope is flaming hope
Ignites our inspiration
Shared prayer is sure answer
For God's our Burden Bearer.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Bench and the Blonde in Black
His Honor walked into the shop
For of shopping his Honor was fond.
Did she blush? Did her eyes indicate shy surprise
In that slim little, trim little blonde?
Did his bachelor heart miss a beat?
Did she flash him a smile as she turned?
Did his Honor smile back at this vision in black?
Said his Honor, 'The case is adjourned.'
His Honor walked into his court.
Said the advocate, 'Shop-ladies lack
Much appeal, I submit, when these dark frocks they fit -'
Said his Honor, 'I like 'em in black.
Yes, I like 'em in black when they're blonde.
And I am not concerned with the cost.
It's a question of taste; and I've no time to waste.'
Said his Honor, 'Your action is lost.'
His Honor walked into the church.
'I will,' breathed his Honor, and beamed
On his blonde who, alack, was no longer in black,
For in ivory satin she gleamed.
Said the clergyman, 'Say after me -'
Said his Honor, 'My true wedded wife. . .
Er - at - sickness and health....and - er - all worldly wealth....'
Said his Honor, 'The sentence is life.'
His Honor walked up and walked down,
Sobbed the blonde, 'But you don't seem to care!
Why, my grey, pink and green are not fit to be seen;
And I haven't a rag fit to wear!
And you always did say I looked nice
In black suits? Twenty guineas? What fun!'
Then she smiled, kissed his neck, as he wrote out the cheque.
Sighed his Honor, 'Your suit, dear, is won.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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As a privileged survivor of the First World War, I hope I may be allowed to interject here a deeply felt tribute to those who were not fortunate enough to succeed, but who shared the signal honor of trying to the last to salvage peace.
quote by Rene Cassin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Way That Honor Is
Honor, gold and praised
highlight of life
given to those raised
Honor struts about with the chest puffed out.
All of the achievements won
these past memories recalled and sway
Honor remembers what fun.
How fun it was to win the cause
to beat the challenge.
poem by Ryan Collins
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A Significance Diminished
A significance diminished,
Increases in its worthlessness.
And an attention given to prevent this...
Decreases the value of a usefulness.
Segmented divisions,
Introduced to initiate fences to separate...
Implemented a hatred to satiate.
And an accepted degrading of others...
Began an effectiveness.
And,
Those then blinded now see...
There is nothing of a nourishment left,
For them to eat.
A feeding on what had been valued,
Depletes in its neccessity!
A significance diminished,
Increases in its worthlessness.
And an attention given to prevent this...
Decreases the value of a usefulness.
And an abuse of respect remembered,
Is difficult to forgive and forget!
Negativity fed does not continue to feed.
A feeding on negativity eventually breeds regret!
And the breeding of regret...
Tarnishes for many what had been significant!
Leaving a significance diminished,
Soggy with tears wept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Missionary Skrefsrud In Santalistan
I honor you, who, though refused, affronted,
Have heard the voice, and victory have won;
I honor you, who still by malice hunted,
Show miracles of faith and power done.
I honor you, God-thirsting soul so driven,
'Mid scorn and need the spirit's war to wage;
I honor you, by Gudbrand's valley given,
And of her sons the foremost in this age.
I do not share your faith, your daring dreaming;
This parts us not, the spirit's paths are broad.
For, all things great and noble round us streaming,
I worship them, because I worship God.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Honor Among Scamps
We are the smirched. Queen Honor is the spotless.
We slept thro' wars where Honor could not sleep.
We were faint-hearted. Honor was full-valiant.
We kept a silence Honor could not keep.
Yet this late day we make a song to praise her.
We, codeless, will yet vindicate her code.
She who was mighty, walks with us, the beggars.
The merchants drive her out upon the road.
She makes a throne of sod beside our campfire.
We give the maiden-queen our rags and tears.
A battered, rascal guard have rallied round her,
To keep her safe until the better years.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Warchild ('78 Demo)
Warchild, your heart is broken
Your mind is breakin', it's such a shame
Warchild, your body's broken
Your woman's taken, it's not a game
People once shared your wisdom
Shared your memory, shared your dreams
Now your thoughts have all been shattered
What once was rhythm are now just screams
Warchild, I used to love you
The whole world loved you, we used to care
Warchild, your mind has been emptied
So all you do now is just sit n' stare
People once shared your wisdom
Shared your memory, shared your dreams
Now your thoughts have all been shattered
What once was rhythm are now just screams
Your lady's waiting, she's hesitating
Not knowing why
Warchild, the pain you're showing
The pain is knowing that you're gonna die
People once shared your wisdom
Shared your memory, shared your dreams
Now your thoughts have all been shattered
What once was rhythm are now just screams
song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do Whatever It Is You Wish
What you are trying to save,
Has already diminished in quality.
Whatever it is you are hoping to gain,
Has lost from you any integrity.
It is not about a disrespect anymore.
Or any signs I await to see...
What is prioritized in your life,
You'd like for me to believe.
What you are trying to save,
Has already diminished in quality.
Whatever it is you are hoping to gain,
Has lost from you any integrity.
Do whatever it is you wish!
But you have already revealed...
You are without a consciousness,
Of my wellbeing.
Do whatever it is you wish.
You have validated a selfishness,
That will never again,
Receive a respect from me to give.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Before Time Altered Them
They were full of sadness at their parting.
That wasn't what they themselves wanted: it was circumstances.
The need to earn a living forced one of them
to go far away—New York or Canada.
The love they felt wasn't, of course, what it once had been;
the attraction between them had gradually diminished,
the attraction had diminished a great deal.
But to be separated, that wasn't what they themselves wanted.
It was circumstances. Or maybe Fate
appeared as an artist and parted them now,
before their feeling died out completely, before Time altered them:
the one seeming to remain for the other always what he was,
the exquisite young man of twenty-four.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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The Expense Of Being Selective
It's not that I am negative.
It just seems too exhausting,
To have high expectations...
When those choices are diminished,
Within one's environment.
And the expense of being selective...
Is difficult if one is on a fixed income.
And so tiresome it becomes,
To have meaningless conversations...
With those who have chosen,
To stay mentally limited.
And threatened they are by anyone,
Who possesses a thought process.
It's not that I am negative.
It just seems too exhausting,
To have high expectations...
When those choices are diminished,
Within one's environment.
And a stretching of an imagination,
A painful undertaking whenever it is done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Same Mother
They each shared
the same mother
shared the same loss of her
when the time came
gave the same
last wave
when she was
driven off
to crematorium
and then grave
but each had
their own mother
whom they shared
with no other
one with whom
they shared
a particular time
or place
sitting quietly
face to face
sharing a secret
or confessing
a deed done
or just
the mother to child meeting
with just the two
at some given time
at some particular place
some given year
to share a problem
or tears or anxieties
or deeper fears
and knowing
she would listen
as only mother's can
or do
sharing the time and love
with each particular
person called you
whether daughter or son
she shared
her equal love and time
and yet each knew her
each thought
they knew her best
and carried away
their own best times
in her company
without the rest
their own moments shared
but deep down
they knew
she had her love for each
and each was equal
to the rest
for she never had
a favourite
nor considered
any one the best
so they all shared
the same mother
in the end
all grieved her going
each in their own way
hoping or believing
they would share her
once again
some better place
some future day.
poem by Terry Collett
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Give Me Honesty
She, she's been crying to me.
She, she's been trying.
She, she's been signing to me,
With words in her eyes, that says she means it!
We've often talked about the possibility
Of loving no more and setting each other free.
I can love you, just give me, honesty.
Don't take your love away from me.
We can try, we have necessities.
Chances are in our favor,
Open your heart, there it will occur.
Remember when the day was white
We shared the time, we shared the light.
Remember when the moon shone bright
We shared the time, we shared the night.
Give yourself to me and you will see,
One way to live just give me honesty.
poem by Ruben Tover
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Not Meant To Confuse
What I shared with them,
Was not meant for you.
The sharing that was done,
Was just for them.
With a doing I did,
That was not meant to confuse.
If a sharing done between you two,
Invited a confusion because you wanted it to...
Then,
How does that involve me?
What I shared with them,
Had nothing to do with you.
What I shared with them was not meant for you.
As to why you were included?
Shouldn't you be the one,
To ask them that question?
Since you believe there is something hidden,
That needs to be addressed and confessed.
However, I will make this suggestion...
Minding one's own business enhances one's happiness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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