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Any subject can be made interesting, and therefore any subject can be made boring.

quote by Hilaire Belloc
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'm Boring

I like you and we get along great.
Like a little bit of pepper with salt for taste.
And I don't want you thinking I'm snooping just to peek,
But I got to use this minute quick to make sure this is it.
I'm boring,
Deeper into you I feel it needed.
I'm boring,
'Cause of possibilities I see.
I'm boring...
Way beyond the meeting of the greeting,
'Cause I see right now you are meant for me.

I'm boring,
Deeper into you I feel it needed.
I'm boring,
'Cause of possibilities I see.
I'm boring...
Way beyond the meeting of the greeting,
'Cause I see right now you are meant for me.

Deeper,
Are the questions of you that I ask.
Deeper,
Are your answers given back to me.
And deeper,
Into ourselves we get...
And this deepness makes us happy.

Deeper,
Are the questions of you that I ask.
Deeper,
Are your answers given back to me.
And deeper,
Into ourselves we get...
And this deepness makes us happy.

I'm boring,
Deeper into you I feel it needed.
I'm boring,
'Cause of possibilities I see.
I'm boring...
Way beyond the meeting of the greeting,
'Cause I see right now you are meant for me.

I like you and we get along great.
Like a little bit of pepper with salt for taste.

Deeper,
Are the questions of you that I ask.
Deeper,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being Boring

(tennant/lowe)
---------------
I came across a cache of old photos
And invitations to teenage parties
Dress in white one said, with quotations
From someones wife, a famous writer
In the nineteen-twenties
When youre young you find inspiration
In anyone whos ever gone
And opened up a closing door
She said: we were never feeling bored
cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves
And we were never being boring
We dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
When I went I left from the station
With a haversack and some trepidation
Someone said: if youre not careful
Youll have nothing left and nothing to care for
In the nineteen-seventies
But I sat back and looking forward
My shoes were high and I had scored
Id bolted through a closing door
I would never find myself feeling bored
cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves
And we were never being boring
We dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
We were always hoping that, looking back
You could always rely on a friend
Now I sit with different faces
In rented rooms and foreign places
All the people I was kissing
Some are here and some are missing
In the nineteen-nineties
I never dreamt that I would get to be
The creature that I always meant to be
But I thought in spite of dreams
Youd be sitting somewhere here with me
cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves
And we were never being boring
We dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
We were always hoping that, looking back

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Subject On This Love

The subject on this love is an object,
And the object is very sound and beautiful;
The subject on this love is a valley,
And the valley is very quiet and lovely;
The subject on this love is a fruit,
And the fruit is very sound and attractive;
The subject on this love is a mountain,
And the mountain is very high and lonely;
The subject on this love is a river,
And the river is very smooth and slippery;
The subject on this love is a seed,
And the seed is very fruitful and sweet;
The subject on this love is your milk,
And your milk is very thick and sweet;
The subject on this love is your lake,
And your lake is very fresh and aromantic;
The subject on this love is a garden,
And the garden is very thick and bushy;
The subject on this love is a room,
And that room is very romantic and peaceful;
The subject on this love is your apples,
And your apples are very passinate and emotional;
The subject on this love is a tree,
And that tree is very tall and bushy;
But the peace of this subject brings is like,
Two lovers swimming across the blue sea of love and blues.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Boring Lonely Day

What to do
On a boring lonely day?
How to have something to do
To keep the blues away?

I have got my papers sorted
And I am faced with a lonely boring day.
I cleaned my home yesterday.
From having a good and fun day,
I am thwarted.

The songs only make me sadder
I am having a boring lonely day.
All my games bore me now
Even when I win, it is a lonely boring day.

Having nothing to do
Makes for a boring lonely day.
And no one to do nothing with
That's the cause of the lonely boring day.

Now that I know the cause
Of my lonely boring days,
I can do something without pause
To cure my boring lonely days.

poem by Lonely People Champion
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Taming The Tiger

I stepped outside to breathe the air
And stare up at the stars
Big dipper hanging there
Over the rented car
Over the rented car
Im a runaway from the record biz
From the hoods in the hood and the whiny white kids
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Sophia says its hard to catch
And harder still to ride
The time to watch the beast the best
Is when its purring at your side
Purring at your side
Accolades and honors
One false move and youre a goner
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forest of the night
The moon shed light
On my hopeless plight
As the radio blared so bland
Every disc, a poker chip
Every song just a one night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junkfood for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style
I watched the stars chuck down their spears
And a plane went blinking by
And I thought of anna
Wild and dear
Like fireworks in the sky
Fireworks in the sky
Im so sick of this game
Its hip, its hot
Lifes too short, the whole things gotten
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger

[...] Read more

song performed by Joni Mitchell
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bordom

Sitting
Nothing
No sound
Not even the dog in the back
Then a song comes up
Same ol song
Never ending
I just keep pushing play
Thinking
What will tomarrow be like
Nothing
Same ol life
Same ol thing
Nothing changing
Not even the song
Not the dog barking
Not the creaks and cracks of the haunted floor
Not the feel of someone watching
Not the wish of something else
Nothing changeing ever
I guess nothing silent
Just every same thing
Boring
Im lost in bordom
Ready lets push play

dododo

Same ol song
Nothing changeing
Everything the same
Boring life
No Change
Rarely ever
Boring life
click clack
same ol anoying keyboard
Sound coming barely over that boring song
Does anything change
Or is life ment to be Boring
Dull
Nothing life
Was that a sound?
Phone ring?
Some one home?
Or is the nothing boring life getting to me?
Am I going insane?
Still no change
Nothing at all
Push play again

[...] Read more

poem by Jessie Li here
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Mister Fix It

I need to be there.
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And put to rest...
My need to split!

I...
Need,
To be there!
And not subject myself to riddles.
Or feel I'm in the middle of something misfit!

I need to be there.
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And put to rest...
My need to split!

I...
Need,
To be there!
And not subject myself to riddles.
Or feel I'm in the middle of something misfit!

Whenever I am called to play Mister Fix-It...
I need to be there.
To give time to it.

Whenever I am called to play Mister Fix-It...
I need to be there.
To give time to it.

I've never give up on a love,
I could not keep before we split.
It seems as if we've gotten use to getting a bit!
I need to be there.

Never give up on loving it,
Once a week.
Just...
To keep it secret!

B-b-b-be there.
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And put to rest...
My need to split!

Just be there,
Whenever I am called to play Fix-It Quick.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Roots Of Creation

One two three four!
Pull up here honey, if ya got a pussy and
Shake your ass like your ready to sing
Well, something muy high
Something muy low
When me ready limo then they follow me home like a
Roots of creation
I am living in a boring nation
I pull up my hands and I look at my feet
The reggae music make me sound so sweet
Cause we play it morning evening and all of the day
It's the sweet kinda music makes me feel O.K.
The roots of creation
Said I am living in a plastic nation
I pull up my hat
My coat is so wide
Sometimes, sometimes I feel so high
But all the time I feel airie
I feel airie when I'm down with the scene called
Roots of creation
I am living in a plastic nation
One more time!
Well, pull up here honey like you got limbo
Well pull up your fingers like you're ready to go
Give me
Give me something high
Give me something slow
Give me something I can use
Give me something I can know
Your the body and the mind one
Part of soul or two
I feel a different person to be a different place
I'm living in a different place
Sometime I feel although its fin
Pull up your style make it sound so fine
With ah
Pull up hands with me
Roots of creation
I am living in a boring nation
A pull up sound with Mike Happoldt at my left
I got Eric at my right
We rock the reggae music every day and night
We rock the reggae music say it's right on time
Cause you're down with the music that they call Sublime
I'm living in a different nation
Reggae style again!
Gonna win me back gonna feel so fine
Bring me down to the place so right
We rock the music so late at night
With a guitar pick in my hand

[...] Read more

song performed by Sublime
Added by Lucian Velea
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Schooling Relationship

you are the subject which i study
understanding and getting to know you psychologically
learning new ways to do right
ways to out do the wrong
you are the subject which i study
practicing and testing the goods and bads
you are the subject which i study
the time has come graduation is here
learn the subject by studing its psychology
understanding is the only way for success
now we move on to the next step
you are the subject which i study to major
as i take hold of your hand
guide you through rough times throughout this life
you are the subject which i study to major
as time goes by ticking away
i studied you all those days
i understand your past history life
your psychology means alot to me
mentally physically emotionally speaking
you are the subject which i study to major...

poem by Diara Armstead
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My World Is Not Interesting After All

what you do not know yet
of course
is interesting and so
since you have not known
much of me
you find me
a subject
of interest

you keep on tracking me
like a path
that may lead you to
a certain
discovery, and you followed
me
religiously, and i
did not ask you to stop
or refuse
your insistence,

i have nothing to hide
somehow
you have only to know
every part
of me and then
you have reached
my world

surveyed every word
object, thought,
aspirations,
dreams

yes even my dreams
and
you figure out
some possibilities
in symbols
like a dot
or a scribble in stones
or veins
on leaves
and their meanings
and hear
all their claims for
a certain nuance

and then
you finally find that
there is nothing

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poetry

Why is poetry so boring?
Everytime I read it,
It leaves me snoring,
Why is poetry so boring?

Some thing it's the art,
But it's an art how?
Poetry comes from the heart,
No wonder boys frown.

Some this it's the words,
With their displeasure,
They are like sour milk curds,
Which are too big to measure.

Poetry is boring,
Everytime I read it,
It leaves me snoring,
That's why poetry is boring.

poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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So Beautiful

I was listening to this conversation
Noticing my daydream stimulated me more
I was crumbling with anticipation
You better send me home before I tumble down to the floor
Youre so beautiful but oh so boring
Im wondering what am I doing here
So beautiful but oh so boring Im wondering
If anyone out there really cares
About the curlers in your hair
My little golden baby where have all your birds flown now
Somethings glistening in my imagination
Motivating something close to breaking the law
Wait a mo before you take me down to the station
Ive never known a one whod make me suicidal before
She was so beautiful but oh so boring
Im wondering what was I doing there
So beautiful but oh so boring Im wondering
If anyone out there really cares
About the colour of your hair
My little golden baby where have all your birds flown now

song performed by Simply Red
Added by Lucian Velea
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So Beautifui

I was listening to this conversation
Noticing my daydream stimulated me more
I was crumbling with anticipation
You better send me home before I tumble down to the
Floor
Youre so beautiful but oh so boring
Im wondering what am I doing here
So beautiful but oh so boring, Im wondering
If anyone out there really cares
About the curlers in your hair
My little golden baby, where have all your birds flown
Now?
Somethings glistening in my imagination
Motivating something close to breaking the law
Wait a mo before you take me down to the station
Ive never known a one whod make me suicidal before
She was so beautiful but oh so boring
Im wondering what was I doing there
So beautiful but oh so boring, Im wondering
If anyone out there really cares
About the colour of your hair
My little golden baby, where have all your birds flown
Now?
Text und musik: mick hucknall
Aus dem album life

song performed by Simply Red
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beauty and Magic

Totally bemused I followed the raging debate
between Sitchin’s followers and his detractors,
I realise everybody has a place to be right in
quantum physics’ infinite universe, therefore

Impossible to choose between the claims of
veracity; I chose to use the only criterion that
has meaning - Feeling – how do Sitchin’s
theories make me feel in comparison with

The rendition of scholars claiming Tiamat a
real person and everything about cosmic
cataclysm just a myth by ignorants writing
poetic renditions for unknown purposes

Reading Zecharia Sitchin’s books make me
feel good - I have fun and am entertained
while the raging debate makes me feel
bad – even sad – that others feel

They should destroy the beautiful images he
created, pointing out flaws in every enchanting
creation he constructed from the same building
blocks used by his commentators to attack him

Learned scholars only manage to make previously
interesting things seem boring - when I look at the
shining images Sitchin created in my mind versus
the boring grey pictures drawn by his critics

I turn away from what they tote as reality and enjoy
the beauty of Sitchin’s surmises without bothering
to say anything about veracity – who cares when
Beauty and Magic are the only criteria?

1, Zecharia Sitchin – “Genesis Revisted”

2. Internet Debates

[A poet’s viewpoint differs from that of the pedantic
scholar and pedagogic instructor – I cannot accept
that being grey, boring and depressed is the right
way to survive life – I want to have fun, dream of
great things, sing a song, jump in the air, shout
and yodel and stick out my tongue at everything
that bores me to death! ]

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Anna Questions Razel puppet

Anna Likes Razel puppet
who has no pupils in her dark eyes
Razel has dark hair and can turn dolls to ice.
Anna is happy to see me and play pretend games
Anna waited for me and Razel puppet to play.
Once play acting Anna would change Razel's name
to a character in her fantasy game.
Anna was the director and would tell Razel what to say
Razel would be instructed to use certain powers
to overcome the villain of the day.
We would act out her Pokeman character
and then we would stop playing for a while-
Anna would ask Razel questions like
'Razel why don't you smile? '
Even Razel puppet was amazed-
as Anna asked questions with a inquisitive gaze.
Another questions Anna asked is-
'Razel why don't you like Birthdays? '
Razel of course replied a sqinting evil eye-
I'm sorry to say, because my mother died.
She died on my birthday when I was a little girl
it changed the way I thought about birthdays
in my world.'
Of course every villain has a back story
Razel puppet's is drama filled not gory.
Then we would go to the outside playground
where play equipment was all around.
Anna asked me to talk Razel
with Razel not on my hand
I said I couldn't but now today I can.
Razel says 'Hi, Anna how have you been?
It was fun playing with you in 'let's pretend'
I am still an evil puppet, but that's what I want to be-
There would be no interesting story to act out for you & me.
The story would be boring if you didn't have to find interesting clues-
Clues to unfreeze the missing character friend who I turned blue.
Where do we find them and what really happened-
are questions asked in this land of pretend.
'So Thank You Anna for finding me interesting-
and playing pretend once so long ago with me.'

Written By Suzae Chevalier on February 21,2011

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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In this business, my business, I get to meet all kinds of incredible people, fascinating people, glamorous people and sexy people and highly intellectual people. And you meet them and you go 'interesting, interesting, interesting'. They're interesting, but not very many people stop you in your tracks.

quote by Madonna Ciccone
Added by Lucian Velea
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Echo

Theres something about
The look in your eyes
Something I noticed when
The light was just right
It reminded me twice
That I was alive
And it reminded me that
Youre so worth the fight
My biggest fear will be
The rescue of me
Strange how it turns out
That way, yeah
Could you show me dear?
Something Im not seeing
Something infinitely interesting
Could you show me dear?
Something Im not seeing
Something infinitely interesting
Theres something about
The way you move
I see your mouth in slow motion
When you sing
More subtle than something
Someone contrives
Your movements echo that
I have seen the real thing
Your biggest fear will be
The rescue of you
Strange how it turns out
That way, yeah
Could you show me dear?
Something Im not seeing
Something infinitely interesting
Could you show me dear?
Something Im not seeing
Something infinitely interesting

song performed by Incubus
Added by Lucian Velea
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Interesting Drug

There are some bad people on the rise
There are some bad people on the rise
Theyre saving their own skins by
Ruining other peoples lives
Bad, bad people on the rise
Young married couple in debt
- ever felt had ?
Young married couple in debt
- ever felt had ?
On a government scheme
Designed to kill your dream
Oh mum, oh dad
Once poor, always poor
La la la la la
Interesting drug
The one that you took
Tell the truth - it really helped you
An interesting drug
The one that you took
God, it really really helped you
You wonder why were only half-ashamed ?
Because enough is too much!
...and look around ...
...can you blame us ? can you blame us ?
On a government scheme
Designed to kill your dream
Oh mum, oh dad
Once poor, always poor
La la la la la
Interesting drug
The one that you took
Tell the truth - it really helped you
An interesting drug
The one that you took
God, it really really helped you
You wonder why were only half-ashamed ?
Because enough is too much!
...and look around ...
...can you blame us ? can you blame us ?

song performed by Morrissey
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Romance Of A Book

Reading a book, you're hit by romance,
No matter the subject matter,
You can read and read,
And every book is different,
Some stories are more pleasant than others,
While some are funny, but most are serious,
For the romance of a book,
Is in everyone's heart,
No matter their age or height,
Whether male or female:
It is all relative and I devour,
Each and every book,
I can read the classics,
Or even a heart-warming romance,
I just get through so many books,
I love every storyline,
Not so much the gory parts,
But the cleverness of the fictional detectives,
And those rock stars that roam the stage,
For a book is something that will never age,
No matter how many years on the shelf,
And stories can be shared with everyone else,
Yet everyone has their own views,
And books can be lifting when they're feeling blue,
For people have been reading fiction for centuries,
But, of course, not all books are fictional:
There're the historical books, interesting,
Even if a reader is just passing through,
And we can all learn something from the history books,
And let's not forget the autobiographies:
Many a man and woman fascinating,
Having lead unique lives and having had special loves,
And there is a romance to these people,
For they walked the same earth as everyone else,
Yet brought something strange and special to the world,
Like a scientist making a new discovery,
Or a rock star penning a hit song,
And all these things are which make books belong,
I haven't met anyone yet who finds books boring,
Because books are not boring: they are fascinating,
Unique, special, strange, romantic and enjoyable,
And every reader's dream: like hitting 'play' on a record,
For this is the romance of a book.

poem by Paula Glynn
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Subject - 731

Flickering bulbs, pass a narrowing hall
Where the conscience ape still glimmers
His breath percolates, as he's held to the bed
Straps tugging away at his femur

Fear escalates, as the wheals nimbly turn
Boldly, towards the screaming tomb
For the ape is aware: that no one returns
Exactly intact from that room

Closer and closer, the ape slowly goes
Down to the jaws of the abyss
Where brothers now lay, mementoes for worms
Indiscriminately erased

Squirming with effort, he puts up a struggle
While white coats plant him a needle
Weight grows unsteady, the light becomes vague
Chemically, enabled feeble

As he enter the doors, the ape is aware
He's now subject 731#
An expendable study, a technician spare
With equivalent rights of a sponge

Inside's a lab, baring horrendous emanations
With tools the experiment shivers
It's a Mangles' study, and Ishii's vocation
The proud medicine of butchers

Nearby is a tray; arranged instruments
Precisely, sharpened and lethal
Eyes bulge in terror, as the subject experiment
Howls to the scalpel pierced navel

Cold hands neatly brush, liquid gel to his brow
As electrodes are strapped to his temples
Lips shyly quiver, apprehension out loud
To incremental series of voltage

A lamp hits his face, obscuring the sight
While figures converge in union
One injects a syringe, near his right eye
Exploding fresh bodily torture

It burns like napalm, shredding his lungs
Into a fiery chasm
Abscess engorge, ripping cutaneous pus
Causing involuntary spasms

[...] Read more

poem by Kevin Patrick
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