Everything is a rejection of you, not your product, or your script, or a cosmetic. It's you.
quote by Morgan Brittany
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Committing Suicide is a Fad
We have met the enemy, and they are us.
—Walt Kelley, Pogo
†
In major national newspapers
very soon, you will see my ad:
thanks to years of research
and cutting-edge technology
a wonderful product, I’ve made,
for committing suicide.
And I say
“Committing suicide is a fad.”
I’m Dr. Bulggard.
My idea’s going to shake the world.
Since many people seem to commit suicide
of one sort or another, I thought,
there must be a big demand out there.
So I commissioned a marketing survey
and the stats we got were astounding;
nothing fell within the gray.
And all companies in this business
had only but one thing in common:
ever-rising growth!
Cigarettes, junk food, or the like,
that makes them each multibillionaires.
I say my product compares,
at anytime is better than theirs!
I wonder in this rapid age of technology,
we do everything faster,
why then does suicide remain so neglected?
In the matter of efficiency and fastness,
it seems sheer carelessness!
Let’s examine the inefficient ways
of committing suicide we see at present.
People smoke,
and know they may get cancer.
They take drugs
and know they may end up worse than dead.
They eat junk food
and know they may have a heart attack.
They don’t walk or exercise
although they’re forty pounds overweight.
Just keep counting…
[...] Read more
poem by Amrit Rathi
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Perform to become a monk and yogi
We perform our duties
Assigned to us
More often than not
Either with anxiety or expectation
Over the rewards or otherwise
Of the product
This ends up with
Either not meeting the requirements
Of the beneficiaries or customers
Or in presenting them with a product
That is beyond their expectations
Both ways
The beneficiary or customer
Accepts the product of our efforts
With a certain bit of reluctance
Krishna talks about a performer
Who performs for the sake of
Performing only
With no anxiety or expectation
On the rewards or otherwise
Of the performance
He says such a performer can also be called
A monk, who, in fact, renounced all
Result-oriented action
And he is also a yogi
Well focused and involved
In what is being performed
Krishna further adds such a person
Should not be categorized as the one
With no fire of desire
For innovation, improvement and
Envisioning and for developing
Systems that will prevent possible
Deviations from the product quality
Such a performer
Should also be not categorized as the one
With no sensitivity
And reacting sense to
Take corrective actions
With regard to process flow
In case a beneficiary or customer comes up
With a complaint on the product
For its non performance
And for its non-conforming to
Specifications desired by him or her
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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I Dont Mind If You Forget Me
I dont mind
I dont mind if you forget me
Having learned my lesson
I never left an impression on anyone
So now you send me your hardened regards
When once youd send me love
Sincerely I must tell you
Your mild best wishes
They make me suspicious
I dont mind
I dont mind if you forget me
Having learned my lesson
I never left an impression on anyone
The pressure to change, to move on
Was strange
And very strong
So this is why I tell you
I really do understand
Bye bye
I dont mind if you forget me
No no no no no no no
You can only be strong for so long
It may not eat you but it will beat you
So this is why I tell you
I really dont understand
This time
Rejection is one thing
But rejection from a fool
Is cruel
Rejection is one thing
But rejection from a fool
Is cruel
And I dont mind if you forget me
I dont mind if you forget me
song performed by Morrissey
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A Paradelle Of A Poet (The Paradelle)
Of all the things I need to write
Of all the things I need to write
To spread my wings and be a poet
To spread my wings and be a poet
To write a spread and to be the things
I need all of my poet wings
A pen and paper in my hand
A pen and paper in my hand
I then begin to script the word
I then begin to script the word
Script to the paper I then begin
My word in hand and a pen
When I am finished with my work
When I am finished with my work
I'll grin and wrap the string on scroll
I'll grin and wrap the string on scroll
The work on my scroll I'll wrap when
I am fisnished with string and grin
To spread a write I need to begin
All of my work, hand and pen
I am a poet and I'll be the things
I script to paper with my wings.
Then the word on scroll...finished when
The wrap in string...and my grin
poem by Adam McKim
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Surreal Ballard Of Tahrir Square
script implausible was so bad surreal
a badly written distorted dream scene
by hack writer with his train off de track
a director still coupled to an antique
loose caboose directing a crummy
crew straight out of sad clown wagon
hear bark a doghouse glory wagon
nationalist saviour script monkey
wagon attack techniques yes these
lapdogs trained as running dogs were
about to be let loose from monkey
wagon many bused in especially for
lackey protest busting feature occasion
moral railroaded false charge imagery
“don’t fall asleep on trains coz trains run
over sleepers” view protesters in lime
light were about to be overwhelmed
ruthlessly crushed steamrolled to pave
one way for Mubarak to oh so smoothly
retain President power so run mad house
script bizarre surging footage shot real?
roll cameras action paid men came with
baseball bats pieces of broken window
frames machetes one homemade spear?
form a line a small group plainclothes
policemen block one broad boulevard
leading into Tahrir Square now symbolic
epicentre
of peaceful Egyptian
revolution
poor police publicly shamed had been
driven from streets so used to controlling
last Friday now had come to hero reclaim
what? A ruthless reputation, proud ego,
status regarded as rightfully lawfully
theirs? Police gathered on Qasr el-Aini
prepared themselves for confrontation
with brave protesters who had humiliated
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Wrinkles
Gettin out of the tub all drawn up like a raisin
Showed my fingers to my daddy while he was shavin
Said look at my toes dad whats wrong with my skin
Will this go away, will I be normal again
Well he picked me up and set me down on the hamper
Wiped off his face while he gave me the answer
For the first time I noticed the lines in his grin
As he dabbed a little foam on the end of my chin, he said
Chorus
Those wrinkles aint nothin to be scared of
Theyre just a product of time and true love
Some are gonna come and go
Some are gonna come and stay
Son, youre still young, youre gonna be ok
Well, I walked down the hall, saw my mom gettin ready
For a long over due date, dinner with daddy
She was cussin those crows feet, didnt know I was listenin
Started talkin bout her younger years
And how much she missed them and I said
2nd chorus
Those wrinkles aint nothin to be scared of
Theyre just a product of time and true love
Some are gonna come and go
Some are gonna come and stay
Mom you still look young, youre gonna be ok
As I get a little older, Im startin to get a few
And Im sure I gave mom and dad at least one or two
Were all gonna have em, there aint no doubt
But those wrinkles in life aint nothin you cant iron out
3rd chorus
Those wrinkles aint nothin to be scared of
Theyre just a product of time and true love
Some are gonna come and go
Some are gonna come and stay
I still feel young, Im gonna be ok
Bridge
Those wrinkles aint nothin to be scared of
Theyre just a product of time and true love
song performed by Diamond Rio
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Wonder Milky Bitch
This is the story of a country girl
Back in town from her country house
She came to me with her muddy boots
She destroyed all my carpet
You know how to do it
Wonder milky bitch
You never wear cosmetic
You dont like arithmetic
You know how to do it
Wonder milky bitch
Tasting,touching,swallowing me
Drinking me like bloody mary
You know how to do it
Wonder milky bitch
You dont wear cosmetic
You dont like arithmetic
You know how to do it
Wonder milky bitch
Tasting,touching,swallowing me
Drinking me like bloody mary
Wonder milky bitch
Wonder milky bitch
Wonder milky bitch
Wonder milky bitch
song performed by Air
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Wet Paint Is A Potential Miracle Cure?
Paint that is wet. Whatever.
But how can I best paint
any surface without leaving
thick ugly brushstrokes?
How can I best protect
beautify a surface in
multiple clear colours?
The fastest cheapest
utilization of time
resources would be?
A traditional wet painting
surface treatment method
to swiftly spray on pigment.
In any chosen colour
in a water based
or solvent based paint.
Onto a metal or non-metal
surface component
part of practically any shape.
Any professional worth their prized salt
will achieve very desirable cosmetic
appearances by employing this technique.
Rejuvenating spent living spaces
restoring to an original condition
making vigorous dynamic settings.
An architect maestro distinction famed
might bestow smooth mirror like finishes
incorporating high cosmetic appearances.
Artistic twists to accommodate many colors
frequent color interactive changes complex
shapes in thin film rendered stylish make over.
A renovator of any ability would smart use
a lick of paint to cat like perfect transform
past drab into the fab with purloined speed.
A miracle makeover bestowing pure joy to blessed
customers paying appropriate low material costs.
It is good to be an honest worker doing an honest job.
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Pause For Reflection
At times changes come on the scene, that can alter our daily routine,
As times change for you and I, we are left to question how and why?
A hopelessness can fill your heart; as yet one more day has its start.
Developing an unwanted attitude, and from within an empty solitude.
Your mind falls into subjection, of what seems like a subtle rejection,
However these feelings of rejection, could be just a time of reflection.
For maybe an unscheduled solitude, is for some a spiritual interlude,
A special time with God to discuss, deeper issues, God knows of us.
God can use this time of reflection, to give our heart a new direction.
You could find that your rejection, is not others, but is your selection.
Friend you may find the one ignored, is not a man, but it is The Lord.
It could very well be God’s Son, who those feelings are coming from.
We focus on what’s bothering us, instead on building upon our trust,
That trust we placed in Jesus Christ, the day we offered Him our life.
It just may be Christ the Lord, who is the one knocking on your door,
This to get back to that place again, that as your very special friend.
Share with Him what’s hurting you, and He will hold and comfort you.
Christ shall never leave your side, even though He is the one denied.
Our drifting heart must be secured, in Christ our never changing Lord,
So when those subtle changes occur, in the Solid Rock we can confer.
(Copyright ©06/2006)
poem by Bob Gotti
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Rejection
The fear of rejection-
Despite the sunshine
And
California, dreams-
This place where snow never falls, and
The ocean exists just outside my back door-
This fear and aloneness
Not even a prayer would
Alleviate,
Although one day I met you
Walking barefooted in
The sunlight’s shadows –
A child of God you said you were and
That we are all God’s children-
Your hand outstretched
Reaching for mine- although
With some trepidation
I walked the path towards heaven
By your side as the rain fell-
Laughter was infectious,
I could feel my bare feet sinking into the
Muddy water, as we grew closer
Sharing the secrets of our wounded hearts,
Life, laughter and these peace filled moments had
Me believing I had found a friend in you-
It hardly mattered that the rain was falling hard
In this place where it hardly ever rained-
I would never be alone again…
Inside my small cracker box home
I would wait for your arrival, though
My thoughts, abruptly interrupted by
The harsh ringing of the telephone-
Life, laughter and peace-filled moments
Transformed to shattered hopes and phony expectations-
The God you had told me that answered everybody’s prayers-
Had different plans for you and I-
The hand that had so gratefully reached out to touch your soul
Took the wound of rejection, anger and deep disappointment -
The profuse bleeding was not the bleeding
From nails pounded into the hands of Christ crucified –
This God that you claimed had made so many promises, but
Was the bleeding of my wounded heart and wrist-
From that day on, I would never again repeat the words
“In God we trust” as
I had been betrayed by your false promises and
Forsaken by the God who walked with you-
I see blood in a puddle upon the
Kitchen floor,
Red contrasting rudely with the tile, stark white-
Hardly diluted by the tears of rejection
[...] Read more
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Rejection's Ire
It is Rejection’s Ire which crouches beneath during the holidays
it is long lived and memory-filled and surfaces so easily,
belying my belief that it’s negativities had long since died;
unknowing it rushes back to me at odd times
especially during the holidays;
but I veteran that I now am
caught it creeping through
confronted it
boxed its ears
sending it back to it’s ugly hovel-
not to ruin this year-
this Season’s Cheer
and I, and my mind,
took
Silent Solace
renewing the Season’s Joy
which is to be
now and tomorrow,
Rejection Free;
self and others
allowing space all around
instead to be filled
with Forgiving
Love’s Herald
and Predecessor:
and for Truth
my Silent Secret Salvation.
My ringing toast, thus this year
will sound for itself much louder
for having drowned out
the clanging clatter
of Rejection's Cruel Ire.
And I shall be at my best
for all of it.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Crossfire
Cross, at peak, speaks persecution,
Refusing tempting devolution.
Once weak, seeks pardon's substitution,
Sources first calls for revolution -
Solution soon shed, styled faith pollution,
For pride before fall's retribution
IRE fires against true evolution.
Across span of two thousand years
stretches shameful vale of tears
which witchcraft crafted it appears
to warn sheep shorn who'd cross frontiers
that 'one true path' exists, fed fears
that sin soul's pardon disappears
when wayward heresy lies steers
to further lies, strange sects reveres.
To this add internecine strife
which separates man from his wife
or both from child who different life
welcomes outside intolerance's knife.
Who cares what label faith would tag
as 'Truth' unchallenged by time lag!
Crass prejudice deserves forthright rejection,
Refusal of 'dancing angels' vision blind,
One should duel dual heaven/hell choice - rejection
Seems due drawn through a juster introspection
Signalling this may not be judged direction
Fair despite the search for light, perfection,
IRrespectivE of the God/King need perception.
We seek some 'logical' justification
underpinning global domination
or compensating fears - thus veneration
of Marx, Religion, draws manipulation
towards brainwashing which protects each nation
from questions which discomfort spread. Creation
leads into death, thus, on examination
either all's vain or all's anticipation
awaiting for some 'awesome' revelation
to clarify 'why' 'wherefore' formulation,
or compensating threatening mutation -
acceleration where tradition's station
is overthrown, emotional deprivation
menacing mankind's self-celebration.
Can Man atop his food-chain learn to stop
Reading tea-leaves self-fulfilling, drop
Once and forever bubble pride whose pop
Shall blow both faith and lay away, though prop
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Clear Rejection
A moment
You said with pain and grief
If you are not there,
My Life stops
I have no demand
I need you to carry me
My soul was blended with your words
I felt my existence in your soul
A Moment
Suddenly you uttered
like a sharp sword
I am not interested in you
I want freedom from you
I am sick and tired of you
just go Away.................
Such a 'Clear Rejection' from You
A Moment
I realized clear rejection
upset mind for some time
but relives the heart for ever
Clear Rejection well in time
is appreciated at times........
poem by Seema Gupta
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I wrote the script of Patton. I had this very bizarre opening where he stands up in front of an American flag and gives this speech. Ultimately, I was fired. When the script was done, they hired another writer and that script was forgotten.
quote by Francis Ford Coppola
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Tale XXI
The Learned Boy
An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and
hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'
[...] Read more
poem by George Crabbe
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Marvel has put out good product. DC has put out good product. Even Image has put out good product, as far as I'm concerned... although it's few and far between. But it's not getting recognized, no matter who's doing it.
quote by Rob Walton
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Black Eyed
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Borderlining schizo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
I'm forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Borderline bipolar
Forever biting on your nuts
I was never grateful
That's why I spend my days alone
I'm forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home (Broken home)
Black-eyed [repeat]
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Borderlining schizo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
I'm forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home (Broken home)
Black-eyed [repeat]
song performed by Placebo from Reinventing The Steel
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Black-eyed
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline and skitzo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
Im forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline by polar
Forever biting your nuts
I was never grateful
Thats why I spent my days alone
Im forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
Broken home
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline and skitzo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
Im forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
Broken home
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
song performed by Placebo
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