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I admire anyone who rids himself of an addiction.

quote by Gene Tierney
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The Most Powerful Living Force

i admire islam
that distils the most
powerful living force
into one distinct entity

and i admire the
followers who pray
five times every day
to him to secure
blessings straight
from his hands

i admire too the
Christians who could
every week take part
in the feast of the body
and blood of a part of
the living God - Christ
and be eternally saved

i admire the Hindus
who have a million celestial
beings to help them work
their karma this life and
next and the next until
they are pure enough,
spotlessly clean to merge
with the Living God

I admire the Buddhists who
could live and pray throughout
their life for none other than
a state of nothingness
free from desires of all kinds

the admire the Jews too
who though thrown into fire
(holocaust) , made stateless
and subservient, with
steadfastness cling
to Yahweh believing
he meant only the
best for them

i admire all the world's
great religions which
through thick and thin
try to guide men to
Almighty, to love and love
like him despite all the

[...] Read more

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I Admire Those Brave

I admire those brave,
And unafraid of their own shadows.

I admire those,
Whose lives have been enhanced...
By the act of taking chances.

I respect those who anticipate,
Their tomorrows with expectations.
And not spending a moment drifting,
Into a yesterday for a purpose to waste.

I admire the ones who inspire.
And they always seem to be...
Those recovering from despair.
And doing that successfully.

I admire those brave,
And unafraid of their own shadows.
The ones able to cover their bruises well.
The ones willing to listen.
Without sob stories to tell.

I also admire an acquaintance I knew,
Who had been penniless.
And yet in dire circumstances...
Managed to offer a bright eyed smile.

I admire the ones who inspire.
And they always seem to be...
Those recovering from despair.
And doing that successfully.

I admire those brave.
They assist unknowingly,
In maintaining my faith.
And everyday my steps are paced,
To lay down even stronger than before.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Envy and Admiration

Oh how I envy my sister
Every time she talks
Every time she walks
Every time she goes somewhere
I envy my sister every minute of the day

She talks like there’s no stopping her
She owns her walk all the time
She gets to have freedom to go wherever she wants
She gets to drive when she wants to
She is the lucky sister that I very much envy

But yet I still admire her with all of my heart
I admire her for her strength
I admire her for her willingness to speak out
I admire her for her ability to stand out in the crowd
She is the sister that I admire every minute of the day

How can I envy and admire her both?
She makes my insides fill with jealousy
But yet she fills my heart and brain with admiration
After confessing this, I still feel envy and admiration for my older sister…will it ever end? ? ?

poem by Casey Lyon
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Affluent In Rituals

In places that sedates and rids those of fears,
I observe the pretense of those convinced...
They have found santuaries void of deceptions.

Viewed they are praying in worship,
Passing notes to provoke those there
In true devotion and unaware...
They have become subjects of gossip shared,
And whispered between psalms!

In places that sedates and rids those of fears,
Hypocrites of faith are seen wiping tears!
And as soon as dried eyes are cleared temporarily...
A sermon that teaches is lost!

Those that come with souls deceiving...
Are affluent in rituals.
And in gold leaf crosses embossed.
Tossing images of sacrifice.
Vowing they themselves are Christ-like beings,
Duplicating these scenes in pristine temples!

Appearing as they do to be high maintenanced,
To leave pews packed and congregated...
For an awaiting world,
Corrupted by their misunderstanding!
As they invoke words of God 'spoken'...
Although nothing done reflects anything,
Of what has been taught, heard and digested!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Have I Not To You Lifted...Up!

Am I not,
Deserving of the love you give.
Oh,
Am I not.

And,
Am I not...
The one that rids your fears.
Oh,
Am I not?

Have I not,
To you gifted?
Have I not to you,
Lifted...
Up!

Am I not,
The one that you wish to kiss.
Oh,
Am I not.

And,
Am I not...
The one that you really miss.
Oh,
Have I not,
To you gifted?
Have I not to you,
Lifted...
Up!

Everyday I come to give you a gift.
And everyday I want you lifted.
Everyday I come to give you a gift.
And everyday I want you lifted...
And not,
Bottled up.

Am I not,
Deserving of the love you give.
Oh,
Am I not.

And,
Am I not...
The one that rids your fears.
Oh,
Have I not to you gifted.
Have I not to you lifted,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Traces Of Sadness

Verse 1:
He walked through the neon light
His future's 'bout to burn
His face was a mask of violence
He'd just reached the bitter end -
That point of no return
There was nothing left to reach
Chorus:
Just traces of sadness
(All the tears remained uncried)
Just echoes of madness
(All his fantasies had died)
He buried his daydreams
(But the nightmares stayed alive)
(Addiction's like a fence)
(That keeps away your second chance)
When the road to freedom ends
Verse 2:
Drinks and drugs and all the rest
He walked that one way street
That leads into desperation
And he learned the hardest way
To steal and fight and cheat
There was nothing left to learn
Chorus:
Just traces of sadness
(All the tears remained uncried)
Just echoes of madness
(All his fantasies had died)
He buried his daydreams
(But the nightmares stayed alive)
(Addiction's like a fence)
(That keeps away your second chance)
When the road to freedom ends
Bridge:
Deep down in his soul he found
The words he had to learn:
There is no way to return
Chorus:
Just traces of sadness
(All the tears remained uncried)
Just echoes of madness
(All his fantasies had died)
He buried his daydreams
(But the nightmares stayed alive)
(Addiction's like a fence)
(That keeps away your second chance)
When the road to freedom ends
When the road to freedom ends
(The traces of sadness)

[...] Read more

song performed by Vanilla Ninja
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Tied By The Wrists To A Pity Pit

Down, down feeling gagged and bound.
And tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
Convicted with an accepting addiction of it.

Stretched beyond imagination,
People wish they could elope with their hopes.
At the end of slipping twisting ropes...
And blowing in a wind that shifts.

Picked and tossed across a river like a pebble.
And not making a ripple or a dent.
Hoping that a simple skip will give them a lift.
But that lift to them aint been sent to benefit.

People feel today they are weak and feeble.
With down cast eyes in cracks and ruts.
And no one seems to want to give that up!
But...
Down, down feeling gagged and bound.
Tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
And...
Convicted with an accepting addiction of it.
Oh...
Down, down feeling gagged and bound.
And tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
And...
Convicted with an accepting addiction of it.
Existing everyday to be defeated and licked.

Down, down feeling gagged and bound.
And tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
Convicted with an accepting addiction of it.

Doo doo doo doo doo down down,
Doo doo doo down down...
And tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
Doo doo doo doo doo down down,
Doo doo doo down down...
And tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
Doo doo doo doo doo down down,
Doo doo doo down down...
And tied by the wrists to a pity pit.
As if convicted accepting of it.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The addiction

The addiction to writing
Is worse than drug
Addiction to
shabu
Or marijuana

You want solitude
You do not talk
You shy away from friends
And your wife
Misunderstands your silence
As coldness of a lover

“Do you still love me? ”

it is worse
there is no hospital for writers
there are no rehabilitation centers
where they diagnose
you for an addiction for a certain
precise disease

why this man prefers solitude
why he does not dance
why he does not talk anymore

there is no drug prescribable
to this addiction
there is no doctor
there is no cure

meanwhile the symptoms keep
manifesting

looking beyond the window in deep thought
sleeping late and waking earlier than usual

He lives too far from everybody
Kin, friends, lovers, and country

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Addiction

My addiction
It is a story of my addiction
Loved her a lot
Cared a lot
However, everything I do for her, never seems perfect
I am truly alone and not even my addiction is with me anymore
She is so far away, that her presence I cannot even feel
I am addicted to her
However, she is not addicted to me
Since, she can live without me
Love, seems good in stories
Although, in reality love pains and does make one bleed
Tears of joy always fade away
Sorrow creeps in life
To be honest I feel so empty without you
Although, reaching out to you is impossible
Earlier, I tried my best
To impress you, I did everything
However, you are my addiction, which is out of my reach
All that I can do is weep and weep
Even then, you will never be mine.

poem by Rohit Sapra
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An Essay on Criticism

Part I

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.

'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?

Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.

Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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Paradise Regained

THE FIRST BOOK

I, WHO erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
By one man's firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in the waste Wilderness.
Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite
Into the desert, his victorious field
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence 10
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of Nature's bounds,
With prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds
Above heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left through many an age:
Worthy to have not remained so long unsung.
Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried
Repentance, and Heaven's kingdom nigh at hand 20
To all baptized. To his great baptism flocked
With awe the regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deemed
To the flood Jordan--came as then obscure,
Unmarked, unknown. But him the Baptist soon
Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resigned
To him his heavenly office. Nor was long
His witness unconfirmed: on him baptized
Heaven opened, and in likeness of a Dove 30
The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice
From Heaven pronounced him his beloved Son.
That heard the Adversary, who, roving still
About the world, at that assembly famed
Would not be last, and, with the voice divine
Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man to whom
Such high attest was given a while surveyed
With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage,
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
To council summons all his mighty Peers, 40
Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved,
A gloomy consistory; and them amidst,
With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake:--
"O ancient Powers of Air and this wide World
(For much more willingly I mention Air,
This our old conquest, than remember Hell,
Our hated habitation), well ye know
How many ages, as the years of men,

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Just Like That

All of my life I had observed those,
Who sacrificed...
In the pursuit of their dreams.
And doing what it took,
It seemed.
Even if that meant forever...
Holding onto that,
Wish
In the hope that it would happen!

Up for days and nights.
Sometimes not having a bite to eat.
Some I knew,
Even slept on streets.
Back then when they had them so strong!

And I have come to admire people like that!
People who attacked their obstacles.
People who aren't seeking standing ovations.
People who aren't seeking a title to bear.
People who wear their dignity and pride.
People who keep their dreams alive inside themselves!
People who may cry and hide their tears.
People who for many years...
Hold on to dreams with a smile!
And I have come to admire people like that.

I have come to admire people like that!
People who care sincerely for others.
And sometimes disregarding their own needs.
Sparing their own they could easily declare.
People like that are not everywhere.
And I have come to admire people like that!

Despite their sacrifices.
Inspite of the fact...
That may have gotten themselves off track.
Inspite of that...
They would fight and struggle,
To get themselves right back to continue...
To shuffle or maintain a bustle to hustle on!

I've come to admire them!
And I aspire to be...
Just like that!
Despite any setbacks,
My dreams should be kept alive!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All That Really Matters

R.sambora
When I look at you
Youre beautiful
There comes a time in someones life
When you find things that matter
And every time we touch
The love runs deep
We realize its our to keep
And thats all that really matters.
Youll always be my sweet addiction
In this life my saving grace
Youre all that really matters
You know its true
Aint no me without you.
When youre in the dark
Baby dont despair
Im just a spark away
I will be there
And thats all that matters.
Youll always be my sweet addiction
In this life my saving grace
Youre all that really matters
You know its true
Aint no me without you.
Well share our lives together
Yes our flame burns on forever
And at the final curtain call
We can say we did it all.
Solo
Youll always be my sweet addiction
In this life my saving grace
Youre all that really matters
You know its true
Aint no me without you.
And when we turns to dust
And we fly away
Therell be a light stil burning bright
And thats all that really matters.

song performed by Bon Jovi
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Broken Butterfly

Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious?

An addiction to equally distribute a common affliction.
Enjoying the show.
Watching them suffer.
If it is for your entertainment does that make it any different?

Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious?

Here's a lullaby go to asleep now.
It was only a dream.
Then why is their so much pain?
A rag is being held over the wound.
And now I know things won't be the same.
The consequences when good men do nothing.

Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious?

An addiction to equally distribute a common affliction.
Enjoying the show.
Watching them suffer.
If it is for your entertainment does that make it any different?

Proud of who we are.
But who is that exactly?
A power driven society who tying to live high in the clouds.
Well eventually we must all come down.
Facing so many horrible realities.

Which will be our first?
Which one will be our last?
Is this what we are going to say was our greatest accomplishment.
We let millions suffer so we could live the easy life.
I can here the voices that have yet to speak.
Miles away in another world.
In a war torn country.
Don't drink the water or you'll get sick.
If you don't want to starve you'll have to kill for it.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Addiction

I have an addiction
that eats away at me
sadly there is no medical cure
for the habit that I have.
I have to feed its hunger everyday,
I tried to go cold turkey
and almost succeeded once
and stopped for almost seven years,
but its hunger kept breaking through.
Finally, I got to grips with myself
and said enough is enough
I am going to let my addiction go.
It was not that easy to break free
of something you have had
for almost half a century.
I had to try I said to myself
before it takes over my life itself.
Just as I was about to put
the last nail in its coffin
it escaped and got free.
Free to enslave me once again
to do its bidding.
I have given up now
to its craving of paper and pen
and to do its dance again and again.
What am I addicted too?
If by now you have not guessed,
my addiction must be pretty weak
as I am addicted to writing
at least one thing everyday.

poem by David Harris
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The Thoughts Unsaid (A screamo song)

You don't have to say it it's already a scar
You don't have to hear in your mind or your soul
Because these are: THESE ARE
The thoughts unsaid
The thoughts in all our
The thoughts that are (high voice)
In our head in our head!
This is the global addiction
This is the human condition
This is the global addiction
This is the human condition

Chorus
Give me the rush, make me feel alive
Gimme the rush, make me feel alive
Gimme the rush as I slowly die
Deaden my pain
Drum solo (3 seconds)
Deaden my pain
Drums + Electric guitar (3 seconds different)
Deaden my pain... With a greater pain!

Heal my heart with a bigger scar
Cause I like the way it hurts, (shouting) IT'S HOW WE ALL ARE
This is the global addiction x 2
This is the human condition x 2
Cause our actions prove our real thoughts, THE THOUGHTS UNSAID
Repeat chorus

(We don't want a cure
We don't want to be pure) x3

Shouting: We need a savior but we forsook Him (in one word increments)

poem by David Knox
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What Makes Life Miserable!

What makes our life miserable?
Is it foot habits, or thought’s trouble?
Unhygienic food, sleepless nights or tiresome life
Or poverty, undernourishment or life riddled with strife

Even tree leaves fall in due process
Any business may fail if have no good access
Life may even end if not provided happiness
No shine can appear simply on face

Some of the good things can happen with little care
Addiction to any bad things can lead us no where
It will not only spoil good health but lave no room to spare
Death will be hastened and put whole family to scare

We have seen disastrous results from polluted air
It may have slow poison effect even on hair
The deadly smoke from puffs may dull the lungs
Life will be imbalanced and simply hung

All habits are good for leading a descent way
That may help you to stay within and not drag you away
Reasonable accommodation with good behavior is lovely example
Happy leading and joyous life can make it memorable

You be addicts to natural things
Think of birds with strong wings
Look at sky and stars with their greatness
How much good feeling we have at their vastness

We should not limit or curtail ourselves
Attempt should not be made to aggravate the health with stress
What would happen if you remain addiction free?
Life will grow with all green branches like tree

Not only life will be made comfortable to family members
Your contribution and care will be remembered
Addiction may not only spoil the cord of family bond
But dry up every resources that is within like pond

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Addiction Free

Don't come to me when you aint got nothing.
Begging for something from me.
I've given you too many shirts off my back.
Now I'm going to help you,
Get addiction free.

What you expect has been to my expense.
Both physical and spiritually.
My goodwill and nature you've taken.
And not a worthless dime,
Have you offer to give...
Or attempted to leave.

Don't come to me when you aint got nothing.
Begging for something from me.
I've given you too many shirts off my back.
Now I'm going to help you,
Get addiction free.

What you expect has been to my expense.
Both physical and spiritually.
My goodwill and nature you've taken.
And not a worthless dime,
Have you offer to give...
Or attempted to leave.

What I mean and what was meant,
Are conditions that inspired past arguments.

But now I'm heated and there's no need,
For us to discuss anything any longer.
There's been too much blood shed.
And your empathy bleeding ways,
I've seen more than I wish to see.

What I know and expect from you,
Is more of the same game...
With nothing changed,
And too redundant to believe.

What you expect has been to my expense.
Both physical and spiritually.
My goodwill and nature you've taken.
And not a worthless dime,
Have you offer to give...
Or attempted to leave.

Don't come to me when you aint got nothing.
Begging for something from me.
I've given you too many shirts off my back.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Convenience

Needing!
And again I am from you...
Addiction free.
What you provided was not love.
What you provided,
Was a convenience to me.
A convenience to have someone there.
To hear breathing the air.
As if the company kept...
Communicated with chemistry.

Needing!
And again I am from you...
Addiction free.
It occurred to me,
To you I was just something to do.
And that wasn't done,
Seriously.
Even together,
You preferred to play hide and seek.

And I discovered,
I want and need love.
And when you left that feeling stayed.
Then I knew what you gave,
Was not love.
But a game to be played.

Needing!
And again I am from you...
Addiction free.
What you provided was not love.
What you provided,
Was a convenience to me.
A convenience that eventually,
Faded.
After the quick and ease of preparation,
Left immediately upon its release.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thank You Father - Prayer For A Healing

Father, first of all know how much I love you and appreciate you
in my life. Father you never leave me, always there to see me
through. This week Father you were ever present in not only my
life but that of my daughter and I thank you for what you did for
her this week. She now understands what I’ve been telling her
for quite sometime. There you were Father showing her what she
needed to see, giving her the inspiration she needed and filling
her with positive energy enabling her to go after her dream with
the gifts that you gave her so long ago. Thank you Father God for
always being present in my life.

Father I ask you to touch the life of a sister poet and her husband.
I know you know who I’m speaking of Father, so I won’t mention
any names. I speak of a sister poet who lives a difficult life dealing with an alcoholic husband, but you know Father she is
standing by her husband, taking one day at a time.

Today Father I pray for a healing for this man, help him to give up this addiction in his life, help him to see the light, to realize
what is happening to his wife, to know that he is going down hill
and needs to fight his way back into the real world. This man
Father God is living as you know, in a haze, so I pray for a healing.
I pray that you step into their lives and show them your power.
I know there isn’t anything that you can’t do, you’ve showed me
that over and over Lord, now I ask that you do the same thing for
this couple. She is tired Lord, tired of looking at her husband,
asking herself-why-. I’m sure this man wants to give up this
habit, but he doesn’t know how Lord, but Father with your help, he can do it. Father God he needs a helping hand. He has the
support of his wife and with your divine power and the blood of
Jesus covering them, they will find the strength to move on and
leave this alcoholic addiction behind them.
Father I ask that you talk to him, show him the way, inspire him to
want Jesus to be the center of their lives and to have a wonderful
relationship with you Father God. Only you can help these people Father, only you can tear away the dark covering and shed a bright
light within their lives. Father God, I pray for all others that may be suffering from this addiction, I pray that you enter their lives and give them a healing as well. I know you know best Father and
I leave this with you for you are the all powerful, the all knowing
and the master of the universe.

Thank you Father for everything you do, I thank you in the name of your son Jesus-Amen

Written: Sept.21/2007

poem by Melvina Germain
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