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I resent limitations. I'm going to be this way for a while.

quote by Fiona Apple
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yes I Am

I resent you calling
I resent your voice
I resent that I
Don't have a choice

Anywhere I go
You are always there
Outside the car
Or in my hair

I think I've been here before
Yes I've been here before
The last time you locked
All the doors

And I resent you calling
I resent your voice
I resent that I
Don't have a choice

And yes I am wary
Yes I am

song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Property Of Jesus

Go ahead and talk about him because he makes you doubt,
Because he has denied himself the things that you cant live without.
Laugh at him behind his back just like the others do,
Remind him of what he used to be when he comes walkin through.
Hes the property of jesus
Resent him to the bone
You got something better
Youve got a heart of stone
Stop your conversation when he passes on the street,
Hope he falls upon himself, oh, wont that be sweet
Because he cant be exploited by superstition anymore
Because he cant be bribed or bought by the things that you adore.
Hes the property of jesus
Resent him to the bone
You got something better
Youve got a heart of stone
When the whip thats keeping you in line doesnt make him jump,
Say hes hard-of-hearin, say that hes a chump.
Say hes out of step with reality as you try to test his nerve
Because he doesnt pay no tribute to the king that you serve.
Hes the property of jesus
Resent him to the bone
You got something better
Youve got a heart of stone
Say that hes a loser cause he got no common sense
Because he dont increase his worth at someone elses expense.
Because hes not afraid of trying, cause he dont look at you and smile,
cause he doesnt tell you jokes or fairy tales, say hes got no style.
Hes the property of jesus
Resent him to the bone
You got something better
Youve got a heart of stone
You can laugh at salvation, you can play olympic games,
You think that when you rest at last youll go back from where you came.
But youve picked up quite a story and youve changed since the womb.
What happened to the real you, youve been captured but by whom?
Hes the property of jesus
Resent him to the bone
You got something better
Youve got a heart of stone

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Candied Kisses

She wants it sugar coated.
To clip and paste...
Upon her fragile reality.

He wants to be her superman.
Although he flies into brick walls.
And he can't quite come to his feet to stand.
He is human afterall.
Stumbling from a crawl.
To get up again...
Proving he has the balls to win.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

She wants it sugar coated.
To clip and paste...
Upon her fragile reality.

He wants to be her superman.
Although he flies into brick walls.
And he can't quite come to his feet to stand.
He is human afterall.
Stumbling from a crawl.
To get up again...
Proving he has the balls to win.
Time and again to defend,
If he doesn't.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why Do Some Live Without A Giving

I've been living in a world,
Many show they do resent...
To be living without giving but expecting they should get.

I've been living in a world,
Many show they do resent...
To be living without giving but expecting they should get.

Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do I?

I've been living in a world,
Many show they do resent...
To be living without giving but expecting they should get.

I've been living in a world,
Many show they do resent...
To be living without giving but expecting they should get.

Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do I?

And they're quick to get the pity.
And this seems to benefit.
And they're quick to get the pity.
And this seems to benefit.

Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do some live without a giving.
Oh why...
Do I?

Oh why...
Do some people get the pity.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What is loss?

I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents

So what’s the fuss about loss?

Waiting!
Debating!
Contemplating!

What is loss?
Something you care about
Taken away from you by force
Creating total unforgivable chaos

Thinking!
Blinking!
Seeking!

What is loss
It is a minus instead of a plus
Hence the unmistakable fuss
Death and sickness build up great grief
Loss brings despair instead of relief
And in loss itself I have no belief

I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents

Loss! An inequitable cause
Thrown on you without a toss
So you become very cross
Because in your life you realize, you are never the only boss!

Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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So-called Chaos

Deadlines, meetings and contracts all breached
D-days and structure responsibility
Have-to's and need-to's and get-to's by three
Eleventh hours and upset employees
I want to be naked, running through the streets
I want to invite this so called chaos, that youd think I dare not be
I want to be weightless, flying through the air
I want to drop all these limitations and return to who I was meant to be
Heartburn and headaches and soon-to-be ulcers
Compulsive yearnings non-stop to please others
I want to be naked, running through the streets
I want to invite this so called chaos, that youd think I dare not be
I want to be weightless, flying through the air
I want to drop all these limitations at the shoes upon my feet
All wont be lost if Im governed by my own uniqueness
Stop lights won't work I'll get home sound and safe regardless
Wont deem me had if I'm led by my own rulelessness
My fire wont quell and Ill be harm-free and distressless
Trust me
Line towing, and helping, expectations up to living
Inside box obeying, inside line cutting
I want to be naked, running through the streets
I want to invite this so called chaos, that youd think I dare not be
I want to be weightless, flying through the air
I want to drop all these limitations at the shoes upon my feet
I want to be naked, running through the streets
I want to invite this so called chaos, that youd think I dare not be
I want to be weightless, flying through the air
I want to drop all these limitations and return to who I was meant to be

song performed by Alanis Morissette
Added by Lucian Velea
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Blissfulness

As I watch beliefs you hold,
Crumble and fall.
It saddens me to know,
Your madness stored
Continues to show!

Let go of limitations!
Let go of situations!
Let go of contemplations...
That keep you stalled and undernourished!

As I observe you praying for release from 'sins'...
I think to myself,
'How did these fears begin? '
Hypocrisies committed is all I see,
By those entrusted but dismiss honesty!

As I watch beliefs you hold,
Crumble and fall.
It saddens me to know,
Your madness stored
Continues to show!

A growth and appreciation of self has gone!
As you carry on looking hopeless and forelorn!
And all that needs to be done,
Is an opening of your eyes!
Cease fulfilling your life with alibis...
Shared without vision with those who lie.

Let go of limitations!
Let go of situations!
Let go of contemplations...
That keep you stalled and undernourished!

What do you believe will encourage you to flourish?
Without 'things' to feed,
Temporary desires bleeding your needs!
This is not pleasing to you at all!
Shopping for enlightenment,
Can not be found in crowded malls!
Tempting with teases to empty your pockets!
Leaving you to remorse habits you can drop...
By stopping it!

Let go of limitations!
Let go of situations!
Let go of contemplations...
That keep you stalled and undernourished!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Unlike An Image To Fit

Unlike,
An image to fit.

Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.

Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.

I've received my independence,
With...
No problem with it.
And I've learned to not to resent,
Changes...
Manifested.
With,
No intercept...
To agree or, not to accept.

And I've learned to not to resent,
Changes...
Manifested.
With,
No intercept...
To agree or, not to accept.

Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.

Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.

I've received my independence,
With...
No problem with it.
And I've learned to not to resent,
Changes...
Manifested.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You've got to know your limitations. I don't know what your limitations are. I found out what mine were when I was twelve. I found out that there weren't too many limitations, if I did it my way.

classic quote by Johnny Cash
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Situation comedies are old-fashioned - they stick to formulas. I resent their music which is old fashioned. I resent the use of a laugh track.

quote by Bill Bixby
Added by Lucian Velea
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It's not people who resent successful people; it's resentful people who resent successful people.

quote by Bo Bennett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Joy on face

Did you ever notice joy on my face?
When I went near to her and made no chase
I used to keep her happy all the time and showered the love
Met all the demands and generally agreed to believe

When ever I ask something she will feel shy
If ask more or insist then she will lower the eyes
She will never raise the head and answer
She had distinct way to obey and surrender

I have seen special qualities in children
They will want nothing in return
Only love and little warmth with favor
Stay at home with security and without fear

I used to sink in my old childhood days
How kind was my parent in their ways?
No sweets offer of any kind but sweet words
Some sort of happiness and hand over head

How could we forget those memorable moments?
With meager income and still no words to resent
Always eager to meet to ends with no more expectation
That was how bridge was built with strong bond and relation

I never miss them for a single moment and sometimes cry
Every demand was met without a single question or asking why
Even though they were not schooled but had sense of fulfillment
They really moved with us in each occasion and remained present

I find lords blessings in child’s presence
They are called messenger of God hence
I wish to remain them with innocence for some more time
Till they attain maturity for appropriate time

You see the reflection and happiness
No one may have any reason to complain in any case
In real sense they are another name for almighty
The creator of different flowers with lots of variety

I loose presence of mind in their sweet talks
What an elegant way of putting steps while they walk
No worry and fear when we are around and present
Get everything in time and no room to complain or resent

I am so much lucky to be father of such a lovely child
Where else you can pray and find?
Lucky are those who have nothing on hand
Yet enjoy rich world with children as friends

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I Hate Schizophrenia

I hate schizophrenia-
Spending months in a locked ward,
Pacing up and down low piled carpeted halls
Between therapy groups, and those nothing to do weekends.
Oh, how I hate schizophrenia.

I hate having schizophrenia,
Having to take at least seven medications
To get me through the day, and to take Ativan
To assure me a normal night’s sleep.
I hate having schizophrenia.

I hate this illness I have called schizophrenia.
Taking the Seroquel and Abilfy that make me ravenous so
I feel that I must spend the day vigorously exercising to
Keep my weight at a normal range, and to live on rabbit food.
How I hate this illness called schizophrenia.

I hate my terrible illness, schizophrenia.
If I don’t take multiple medications,
I hallucinate, get paranoid and delusional,
Have sleepless nights after nights, and
I have no motivation.

I have schizophrenia and how angry it makes me feel.
Nurses, so called friends and therapists half my age
Treat me as if I were a child.
I am ill so I cannot be trusted.
I have schizophrenia and how angry it makes me feel.

I hate schizophrenia.
It is an illness that has a stigma attached to it, and
It has a grip on me.
It impairs my functioning and
It mars my relationships.
I hate schizophrenia.

I despise and resent having this terrible illness.
All of my relatives are well adjusted and highly functional.
I was born the black sheep; Why am I this way?
It’s so unfair!
When I think of it tears stream down my face.
I must have removed my glasses a hundred times today to
Wipe the tears away, yet
They keep on flowing.
I despise and resent having this terrible illness.

I don’t like being diagnosed with schizophrenia.
Even in the darkness of the night on heavy medications
Voices haunt me.

[...] Read more

poem by Claudia Krizay
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A thief in one's own house

‘To steal’, the sage declares, ‘is to take things
not given consciously with pleasure’.

Several times my eye has skimmed over this,
with thoughtless affirmation; then today
it hit me like a burst of consciousness.. for

yesterday the hairdresser made her regular visit
for which I’m enormously grateful; yet,
I resent her presence in the house:

sharply scorning all my attempts
at friendly small talk (what a payback
for those sessions of ‘Doing anything special
this weekend, Sir? ’ ‘Going away this year? ’
which I in turn, used to resent..)

Last year she was happy to talk about her teenage son,
ice-hockey wizard; now she slaps any such questions
back in my face… “ ‘ee’s at school now innee? ”

But now my resentment has been named:
hoping to treat every visitor as an honoured guest,
I feel instead a thief in my own house..

How different from the weekly visit of
Mr. Organic Fruit and Veg –
product of three different races, so he tells me -
whose smile lights up a week of days in memory..

Just suppose that we could choose to avoid
all those who do no more than exchange
their ‘goods and services’ without a smile..
who do not see their job as
‘giving consciously with pleasure’..

Gone the days of cheeky, chirpy,
cheerful, cocky Cockney ticket collectors
who turned a busload of passengers
into a performance art.. giving
their service consciously with pleasure
and returned by all..

In my first philosophy class,
seeking to position myself as the class joker,
(in the days when ‘waking up’ was our first task)
I smugged this observation about being so ‘asleep’
that in the morning at the tube station,
I said thank you to the ticket machine…
Maybe I was onto something there.

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Declaration of Love Revealed

Know that if anything happened to you then I would die an eternity in an instant,
I can picture now the deconstruction of my faith in the world and I know that all
That I could dream of was hearing your voice upon the wind. I have full faith in
Fate and that those who wish for a love of life will have the universe conspire for them.
I know you shall be fine, I know you will have the time of your life but this will never stop me worrying for so deep is the grandeur of my emotion, I understand however that you may feel strange, and at times that I myself am a little deranged but know that my heart is constantly calling out your name and though it could
Never be you who made me blue, it is my inability to cope with my feelings for you,
For I know that no commitments are to be made and I know that perhaps that you are to
Meet the love of your life upon your travels but I need you to know that at this time I can not comprehend that fate could throw my way such a soul of beauty without reason.

Know that at I am an appreciator of all, and that I have fallen for you, if you can not return affection I beg you know the honor I bestow upon you in holding you in the light I do. Know that I’ll always be there to comfort you, in and out of my own blues, I’ll be there. I can be happy in the knowledge that you will be happy with or without me
Yet I can not be free until I have spoken of the feelings that leave me unreal and broken.
Here is my heart, take it, you don’t have to give me yours.

Through knowing you I have been shown that there is beauty beyond the curtains sewn.
You have given me a new faith in man, something that I would never have known to ring
True again. I hold you in the highest of esteem, I deem you an embodiment of the goddess and though I know I may appear a mess, and though I know you would never wish me undressed I still need to let you know so that you can go and flow and show the world the love I perceive gleaming through the windows to your soul.

Perhaps now was not the time for us but I can’t help feeling that I’m at times in need of healing for I feel love sick beyond repair, I don’t know whether or not it was best to share
These cares of mine but I feel by rights that you should know, and though I have told you
Once before, I live in the shadow of the thought of you walking out the doorway.
I feel at times that if only I had the words to say I could let you know for sure
That you are the cure I seek. I would not ever wish to weaken the hope for happiness you
Carry so merrily in your stride. At times I envy you, still I know it’s wrong, but the green
Eyed monster rears his ugly head and at times I feel half dead, though I may be singing
The happiest of songs.

I feel perhaps as though I am too selfish in burdening your day
With all the thoughts within my head, with every word I say
Yet know that I shall be praying for you, towards unity, towards clarity
I shall pray for you and will always welcome you with open arms
If you are willing to receive me. Be free of commitment, be happy
Be all you know you can be and I will never resent you, I may simply
Resent myself at times for allowing to be swallowed by the blues.
For outside there is a world a splendor, blooming as it swoons
Inside at times I stay too long upon the dark side of the moon.

Sorry about that but you know it’s been getting to me for a while
So much that at times I find it hard to smile, but then I realize that
I should embrace the blue skies of your company for we each are upon
Our paths and I am purely grateful and full of appreciation for
Meeting someone as such as yourself, and in us both taking the time to relax
Beside one another.

I feel like I’m repeating myself
At times I feel like I’m walking in setting concrete
Yet fear shall not defeat me
For I have a wish alike you to be free
To be happy
And to be all I could be

[...] Read more

poem by David Lacey
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Ryan's Journey

There cannot be something bigger than me.
My body and mind it would say.
The things I see and the things I hear.
They must be the only way.

For years I truly believed this.
And then one day I did fall.
The things that I thought were the truth and were right.
It wasn’t the truth at all.

I then set out on a journey.
To places that I’d never known.
It was a journey to go in my mind and my heart.
And to soften my heart made of stone.

I was given a book and some angels.
To lead me on my new quest.
My old journey it brought the worst out of me.
I hoped this new one could bring out the best.

The journey began dark and was painful.
The hurts that were hidden inside.
It was then I reached the first destination.
This place it was called “Ryan’s Pride”.

I thought I was bigger then everything.
But something was bigger than me.
As I walked through the town that was called Ryan’s pride.
I thought to myself how could this be?

In this town I saw so many people.
And they all looked just like myself.
Everything they said they were right, I was wrong.
Time to put this town up on a shelf.

I said farewell to this town.
Down another path is where I went.
It was then I came across another big town.
This town it was called “I Resent”.

Everyone in this town was so bitter.
And the language they spoke was called hate.
They carried these things they called “grudges”.
On a dirty and tarnished old slate.

So I went and I purchased some “grudges”.
Saw the dirtiest slate I’d ever seen.
Then I went and purchased some bleach and some cloths.
And I wiped my dirty slate clean.

[...] Read more

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter IV

How shall I take up this vain parable
And ravel out its issue? Heaven and Hell,
The principles of good and evil thought,
Embodied in our lives, have blindly fought
Too long for empire in my soul to leave
Much for its utterance, much that it can grieve.
A soldier on the battlefield of life,
I have grown callous to the signs of strife,
And feel the wounds of others and my own
With scarce a tremor and without a groan.
I have seen many perish in their sins,
Known much of frailty and inconsequence,
And if I laughed once, now I dare not be
Other than sad at man's insanity.
Therefore, in all humility of years,
Colder and wiser for hopes drowned in tears,
And seeking no more quarries for my mirth,
Who most need pity of the sons of earth,
I dip in kindlier ink my chastened pen,
And fill of my lost tale what leaves remain.

Years passed. Griselda from my wandering sight
Had waned and vanished, like a meteor bright,
Leaving no pathway in my manhood's heaven
Save only memories vaguely unforgiven
Of something fair and sad, which for a day
Had lit its zenith and had gone its way.
Rome and the Prince, the tale that I had heard,
Griselda's beauty--all that once had stirred
My curious thought to wonder and regret,
In the vexed problem of her woman's fate,
Had yielded place to the world's work--day cares,
The wealth it covets and the toil it dares.
I was no more a boy, when idle chance
And that light favour which attends romance
Brought me once more within the transient spell
Of other days, and dreams of Lady L.

'Twas in September--(I have always found
That month in my life's record dangerous ground,
Whether it be due to some unreasoned stress
Of the mad stars which dog our happiness,
Or whether, since in truth most things are due
To natural causes, if our blindness knew,
To the strong law of Nature's first decay,
Warning betimes of time that cannot stay,
And summer perishing, and hours to come,
Lit by less hope in the year's martyrdom;
And so we needs must seize at any cost
Fleet pleasure's hem lest all our day be lost)--

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Defend other mothers

Oh, dear angel and my only daughter
You may be cursing me as your most hated mother
But dear daughter I was left with no other
Your birth pushed me in dark with lot more to bother

No mother on earth may leave the child behind
For someone else to see and find
What a shame on her to be unkind!
Yet in large interest she has to turn blind

Don't you think today I was reasonable?
When took decision amidst lots of troubles
Everybody was against your arrival in this world
It was unnatural on my part to develop cold

I know how painful it may be to miss on mother's day
When all beautiful mothers are on their way
To see and meet their beloved sons and daughters
I am only one crying behind curtain and closing the shutters

Dear daughter, you could have not seen this bright day
You are alive because I took fateful decision to keep you away
Which mother will think of leaving baby in desert place?
Where wolves are ready to pounce upon pry and eat the flash

You are never forgotten and it may never happen so
Only thing I am not permitted to open old chapter and go
The social walls are difficult to scale and escape
Since I was mercilessly assaulted and subjected to rape

Life for me is no less than hell
Nothing is going on as per wish or turning well
Think of living hell and you will forgive
I have nothing more to give

You be blessed and stay wherever you are
I shall never be able to return as gone very far
Your lovely face comes before my fading eyes
I turn head down, feel guilty and shy off

Not a day is passing off without your name
My angel, you are in my memory and mind frame
You always hang there and remind me of cowardice
That as mother I failed in each promises

I am woman too and have some limitations
It is not only bond by flash and blood relations
But attached with beautiful moments
Now they have turned against me to resent

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Pseudo-Romanticism

If lips shall lock,
hands be bolted,
should eyes be closed?
Should souls be soused
in ice, in fire, in electric shivers?

The scintillating intermingling
would linger deep
etched to never cease
like how poetries seal
the bashful emotions,
the reticent desires,
and the feral suffering

Teach me how
to lull your tremors;
what scull your waves
and funnels your vertigo?

Teach me how
to paint your bliss
and erode your malaise
for I know nothing
but the honesty in
entangling strings,
and eloquent attraction

Teach me how to pry
behind your perfumes
and the buds of your
daffodils and carnations

The mellifluous quartz
would recognize my weight
if I can carry you
as I trespass shadows,
chase vicissitude and
molest limitations

But you have to teach me -
Instill knowledge in my
deterred incarceration
if knowledge is important
in romanticism

Or perhaps
all you need is
to unfurl a face,
your empty hands,
your crimson lips

[...] Read more

poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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