Because we're actors we can pretend and fake it, but I'd rather the intimate investment was authentic.
quote by Keanu Reeves
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Fake People
All the time
I look in your eyes
But what I see
And what you say to me
Are two totally different things
You pretend you put on a façade
I only wish you knew that I'm not
The only one who sees it as odd
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Because of their own insecurities
They try to pass on to you their idiosyncrasies
Thinking they are your friends you let them into your lives
But then they turn around and about you tell nothing but lies
Jealousy is such an ugly thing
Almost as ugly as hypocrisy
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Fake people
Fake people
So now I must ask who are your friends
Are they really what they seem to be
Or are they just trying to hide from you their envy
Do your friends really have your back
Or is it that that's where by them you've been stabbed
I once had a friend
One I thought would be there for me till the end
Then one day my happiness ended and theirs began
And when I needed someone to lean on
Behind me did no one stand
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Because of their own insecurities
They try to pass on to you their idiosyncrasies
Thinking they are your friends you let them into your lives
But then they turn around and about you tell nothing but lies
Jealousy is such an ugly thing
Almost as ugly as hypocrisy
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Fake people
Fake people
Be careful who you let know your business
'Cause in the end
Rumors about you they could be spreadin'
Don't put your trust in people who don't trust you
There's no telling what they're liable to say or do
Grow smarter with each experience
And you'll see true friends
Are the friends who are their with and for you till the end
[...] Read more
poem by Dionne K. Kelly
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Fake Out In Buenos Aires
Fake out
Fake in
Fake it to me
What is fake?
Fake t.v.
Land of a thousand fake outs
Fake worse than death
In buenos aires
In buenos aires
Fake out
Fake in
Fakers delight
Fake your claim
Fake around the clock
Winner fake all
Three fakes, youre out
In buenos aires
In buenos aires
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Not To Fake To Give
People want to have,
Their...
Lives wrapped up in gladness.
People want to know,
What it's like to have a harmony.
And people want to see,
Their futures bright in the Sun...
Lighting up their faces.
Acknowledging their products of love.
People want to find,
Perfection here on Earth.
But...
People ought to know,
They can't get it freely.
And...
Only those with open hearts.
Also know they're here...
Not to fake to give.
People want to have,
Their...
Lives wrapped up in gladness.
People want to know,
What it's like to have a harmony.
And people want to see,
Their futures bright in the Sun...
Lighting up their faces.
Acknowledging their products of love.
And...
Not to fake to give.
And people want to see,
Their futures bright in the Sun...
Lighting up their faces.
Acknowledging their products of love,
And...
Not to fake to give.
Lighting up their faces.
Acknowledging their products of love,
And...
Not to fake to give.
Lighting up their faces.
Acknowledging their products of love,
And...
Not to fake to give.
Acknowledging that their products of love,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Love For One Another Done
Where do we masquerade now?
That dedicated faith we fake.
The one we parade,
When charades made take place.
And...
Where do we masquerade now?
That dedicated faith we fake.
The one we parade,
When charades made take place.
That love for one another done,
Real or fake.
The respect for our fathers,
Is it real or fake.
The honor for our mothers done,
Real or fake.
And that love for one another done...
Is it real or just for fun?
Concern for our sisters,
Is that real or fake.
And what about our brothers,
Do they hug and fake.
As they backstab each other,
Calling one another 'mothers'.
That feeling,
Is it real or fake.
That feeling,
Is it love or hate.
That feeling,
We all celebrate.
And what about the brothers,
Backstabbing one another.
That feeling,
Is it real or fake.
That feeling,
Is it love or hate.
That feeling,
We all celebrate.
And what about the brothers,
Calling one another 'mothers'.
And that love for one another done...
Is it real or just for fun?
That feeling,
Is it real or fake.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cushions
When my leaders
Sit in the assembly halls,
For legislation,
With fake brains, fake thoughts,
Fake eyes, fake looks,
Fake existence, fake appearance,
Fake education, fake degrees,
They seem to me
Fake, fake beings,
As if
Some one has placed cushions,
On the sofas and chairs;
Cushions stuffed
With rags of worn out jeans
Or old pieces of sacks
Made of jute.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Idea Track
Dear Hugh Miller
Ive thought it through for a while but it doesnt get any easier
And three months on in this bad design wont make it feel any easier
Your grave, its your grave
Dear Hugh Miller
Its four months now from when we started and nothing feels much easier.
I sit and stare in a cork tiled room and it doesnt get much easier.
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
Dear Hugh Miller,
its four months now from when we started and nothing feels much easier.
I sit and stare in a cork tiled room and it doesnt get much easier.
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
I dont care if I dont have an idea track, its an idea track, its an idea
I dont care if I dont have an idea track, its an idea track, its an idea
Your grave, its your grave.
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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The-Bad-Taste-It-Makes
When it comes,
It comes not to leave.
It seems to stay there eternally.
When it comes,
It's hard to breathe free.
Eventually it's shown on one's sleeve.
Heartbreak!
No fake the aching.
Or escape,
The wounds inflicted hard to shake.
Heartbreak!
No fake the chasing.
Or erase,
The bad taste it makes.
When it comes,
It's hard to breathe free.
Eventually it's shown on one's sleeve.
Heartbreak!
So hard it is to go away.
Heartbreak!
No fake the aching.
Or escape,
The bad taste it makes.
When it comes,
It comes not to leave.
It seems to stay there eternally.
Heartbreak!
No fake the chasing.
Or eliminate,
The-bad-taste-it-makes.
When it comes,
It comes not to leave.
Heartbreak!
No fake the aching.
Heartbreak!
No fake the chasing.
When it comes,
It comes not to leave.
Heartbreak!
No fake the aching.
Heartbreak!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stupid Girl
You pretend you're high
Pretend you're bored
Pretend you're anything
Just to be adored
And what you need
Is what you get
Don't believe in fear
Don't believe in faith
Don't believe in anything
That you can't break
You stupid girl
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
All you had you wasted
What drives you on
Can drive you mad
A million lies to sell yourself
Is all you ever had
Don't believe in love
Don't believe in hate
Don't believe in anything
That you can't waste
You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it
Don't believe in fear
Don't believe in pain
Don't believe in anyone
That you can't tame
You stupid girl
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
All you had you wasted
You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it
You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
[...] Read more
song performed by Garbage
Added by Lucian Velea
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Making Me Hate You
Cant simplify all the things that burn inside
But when you ask, Im fine but Im lying all the time
Its tough to say when you laugh at me this way
But in my mind Im crying, Im crying all the time
So pick up the vide, make me want to justify
Every word thats coming out your mouth
No looking back, you better choose a side
Im sinking within
You fake, you lie
Youre making me hate you
You fake, you lie
Youre making me want you even more
Cant see any good side of you
But I am trying, Im trying
I cant explain all the damage you can bring
But when Im blind
Im dying, Im dying all the time
So pick up the vibe, make me wanna justify
Every word thats coming out of your mouth
No lookin back, all I wanna see
Is that youre sinkin within
You fake, you lie
Youre making me hate you
You fake, you lie
Youre making me want you even more
Yes I will always be
Torn by what I see
Yes I will always be the same
Even though I stop thinking of you
Cant simplify all the things that burn inside
But when I try, Im dying, Im dying all the time
You fake, you lie
Youre making me hate you
You fake, you lie
Youre making me want you even moreyou fake, you lie
Youre making me hate you
You fake, you lie
song performed by Unloco
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lassie Come Home
Lonely boy
Gazing on the afternoon
People drifting cross the surface of the twilight day
Theres a little yellow man standing by the railway station
Painting portraits on the brickwalls of billie holloway
Lovely lady smile, dance, my dear, Im only operating on lassie come home
This was authentic you, she spoke, this was authentic you who blew me cold
She had no chance to realize, it hit her straight between the eyes, so Ive been told
In the park, shes giving out some photographs
On which shes giving out some photos of what she hands around
They videoed a ghost tonite, she said before I turned it off
It rode an orange paper bike and left without a sound
Keep on riding, sir, open up the door and shout it out
Lassie come home, come home
This was authentic you, she spoke, this was authentic you who blew, who blew me cold
I had no chance to realize, it hit her straight between the eyes, so Ive been told
Lonely girl
Dancing in a music hall
Lightning struck her silver starship and turned it into stone
And now shes falling all the time into that void beyond her grey eyes
Somewhere a telephone is ringing but nobodys at home
Hello, junkie sweetheart
Listen now, this is your captain calling
Your captain is dead
Keep on riding, sir, open up the door and shout it out, shout it out, shout it out shout it out
Lassie come home
This is your captain calling
Were falling all the time
All the time
Lassie come home
Gold/1982
song performed by Alphaville
Added by Lucian Velea
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Matins
i
The authentic! Shadows of it
sweep past in dreams, one could say imprecisely,
evoking the almost-silent
ripping apart of giant
sheets of cellophane. No.
It thrusts up close. Exactly in dreams
it has you off-guard, you
recognize it before you have time.
For a second before waking
the alarm bell is a red conical hat, it
takes form.
ii
The authentic! I said
rising from the toilet seat.
The radiator in rhythmic knockings
spoke of the rising steam.
The authentic, I said
breaking the handle of my hairbrush as I
brushed my hair in
rhythmic strokes: That’s it,
that’s joy, it’s always
a recognition, the known
appearing fully itself, and
more itself than one knew.
iii
The new day rises
as heat rises,
knocking in the pipes
with rhythms it seizes for its own
to speak of its invention—
the real, the new-laid
egg whose speckled shell
the poet fondles and must break
if he will be nourished.
iv
A shadow painted where
yes, a shadow must fall.
The cow’s breath
[...] Read more
poem by Denise Levertov
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Fake Friend(Revised, In Line Form, Oh and Viewable
The poison seeps from of your eyes.
I can read your lies.
Pure and innocent are dead and gone.
Fake it just fake it.
Pretending your some thing your not.
In the end I win cause I have had been in the alleys.
I've slept in a abandon home to keep from catching cold.
Where were you then my fake friend?
Who do think your fooling?
Do you stop and try to give a ride?
So how bout it my fake friend.
Such a beautiful sharlton.
When I was getting beat up in the courts by five guys for protecting a races rights.
Where were you then my fake friend?
When my house burnt before my very own eyes.
Where were you then?
Hiding behind closed doors like so many times before.
Every thing has been standing still.
I knew the time would come when I would be done with it.
You can't help those who lead.
They'll follow no ones' road but there own.
Judge me not cause don't know how much ambition I truly got.
My fake friend you will not make your failings my own.
For each man women child breaks free of such tyranny.
This is to you my fake friend.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Something Interseting Sestina #1
as long as you live, there is love
but in the recceses rise hate
all these words I draw with passion
with nothig to support me, except my faith
but to others my philosophy seems fake
so I go eat in a kitchen
build me a broken kitchen
that can be worsen by love
a kitchen that make all truth fake
one that is made whole with hate.
There I can vehemently laugh at those with faith,
there I have no time for passion
I have no time for you because you have no time for me dear passion
that's why you can't be a recipe in my kitchen
an the essence in my food is not threw faith
don't love
lie, loath, be livid, and hate
understand such rules with sincerity, don't be fake
yes I say that because the mind of the world is fake
no true passion
much mocked hate
but all is genuine and true in my kitchen
no false love
and lots of thrawted faith
tried faith
and to others this isn't fake
the situation is as real as love
and love as real as unforgiven passion
and both passion and love will destory my uncanny kitchen
which is established by raw hate
that word hate
miss understood by those that don't know the meaning of its faith
but all my creations thrives on it in my kitchen
and yes I will assure you no thing is fake
plus all creations are made without passon
and all creations in my kitchen are mained by love
So come in with hate, and finally take in all creation that's not fake
renew and change your faith, and here make lame all passion
in my kitchen, the place that no one love.
poem by Victoria Lee
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The Apology
ADDRESSED TO THE CRITICAL REVIEWERS.
Tristitiam et Metus.--HORACE.
Laughs not the heart when giants, big with pride,
Assume the pompous port, the martial stride;
O'er arm Herculean heave the enormous shield,
Vast as a weaver's beam the javelin wield;
With the loud voice of thundering Jove defy,
And dare to single combat--what?--A fly!
And laugh we less when giant names, which shine
Establish'd, as it were, by right divine;
Critics, whom every captive art adores,
To whom glad Science pours forth all her stores;
Who high in letter'd reputation sit,
And hold, Astraea-like, the scales of wit,
With partial rage rush forth--oh! shame to tell!--
To crush a bard just bursting from the shell?
Great are his perils in this stormy time
Who rashly ventures on a sea of rhyme:
Around vast surges roll, winds envious blow,
And jealous rocks and quicksands lurk below:
Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends;
He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Look through the world--in every other trade
The same employment's cause of kindness made,
At least appearance of good will creates,
And every fool puffs off the fool he hates:
Cobblers with cobblers smoke away the night,
And in the common cause e'en players unite;
Authors alone, with more than savage rage,
Unnatural war with brother authors wage.
The pride of Nature would as soon admit
Competitors in empire as in wit;
Onward they rush, at Fame's imperious call,
And, less than greatest, would not be at all.
Smit with the love of honour,--or the pence,--
O'errun with wit, and destitute of sense,
Should any novice in the rhyming trade
With lawless pen the realms of verse invade,
Forth from the court, where sceptred sages sit,
Abused with praise, and flatter'd into wit,
Where in lethargic majesty they reign,
And what they won by dulness, still maintain,
Legions of factious authors throng at once,
Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce.
To 'Hamilton's the ready lies repair--
Ne'er was lie made which was not welcome there--
Thence, on maturer judgment's anvil wrought,
The polish'd falsehood's into public brought.
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Churchill
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Imperial Bedroom
Everyone agreed that she looked delightful
Except for her sister, who was hateful and spiteful
Blushing bright red from her head to her feet
But rushing into her bridal suite
The imperial bedroom, the regal boudoir
This casual acquaintance led to an intimate bonsoir
Life turns out like a tv serial
A head full of daydreams, his hands full of material
She says its nothing, hes messing up her hair
And still he looks so neat
Stepping into the bridal suite
The imperial bedroom, the regal boudoir
This casual acquaintance led to an intimate bonsoir
So the best man will do his best again
Now theyre getting dressed again
Blushing bright red from her head to her feet
Sneaking out of the bridal suite
The imperial bedroom, the regal boudoir
This casual acquaintance led to an intimate bonsoir
We know who youre with and where you are
In the imperial bedroom, the regal boudoir
This casual acquaintance led to an intimate bonsoir
Two names under the register
In the imperial bedroom, the regal boudoir
This casual acquaintance led to an intimate bonsoir
Au revoir
song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Intimate Since We Met
Intimate since we met.
With no mention of it intended.
And feeling free not to defend it,
To experience this without regret.
It was as if this was meant to be.
A meeting of coincidence...
That began for us so innocent.
And intimate since we met.
A magnetic attraction we cemented.
First with our eyes,
Then to our surprise we kissed.
Feeling that tingle between us,
With a need to be together...
To explore more of it!
And we have been intimate,
Since we met.
With no mention of it intended.
And feeling free not to defend it!
To experience this without regret.
So blessed we are,
To share this added spice.
That increases in our happiness,
Each of us knew.
But did not expect...
Could reach and climb to further heights.
None that we dreamed of.
Or planned to invite.
Intimate since we met.
With no mention of it intended.
And feeling free not to defend it,
To experience this without regret.
It was as if this was meant to be.
A meeting of coincidence...
That began for us so innocent.
And did not expect...
When we met,
Could reach and climb to further heights.
Further with no intention...
To be this intimate,
Like this intimacy we have is meant.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Please Do Not Bring This to Their Attention
Hmmm,
Authentic?
About as authentic as false smiles will allow.
I guess.
Or one's depiction of those envied,
At best.
Who knows?
One's truth is in the acceptance of one's perception.
And the ability to entertain denial!
Stand where you are,
And observe this!
It's free.
One who embellishes without constraint,
Can damage the quality of a class act.
By going through the motions.
And not a growth shown from that...
Is attempted with or without requests.
Authentic?
Will put replicas to shame.
If recognized!
But those accustomed to mediocrity,
Would never know the difference between
What's genuine or fake.
Since much of their environment,
Is based on substitutes and other things demeaned.
Oh...stop that glaring at me!
Open your eyes and let that be seen.
I'm just your tour guide.
Not the creator of this BS!
However,
Please do not bring this to their attention.
We find their pretentions,
Priceless.
And...
Judging by your reaction,
You do as well.
At least your good tastes have not been wasted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Elegiac Feelings American
1
How inseparable you and the America you saw yet was never
there to see; you and America, like the tree and the
ground, are one the same; yet how like a palm tree
in the state of Oregon. . . dead ere it blossomed,
like a snow polar loping the
Miami—
How so that which you were or hoped to be, and the
America not, the America you saw yet could
not see
So like yet unlike the ground from which you stemmed;
you stood upon America like a rootless
Hat-bottomed tree; to the squirrel there was no
divorcement in its hop of ground to its climb of
tree. . . until it saw no acorn fall, then it knew
there was no marriage between the two; how
fruitless, how useless, the sad unnaturalness
of nature; no wonder the dawn ceased being
a joy. . . for what good the earth and sun when
the tree in between is good for nothing. . . the
inseparable trinity, once dissevered, becomes a
cold fruitless meaningless thrice-marked
deathlie in its awful amputation. . . O butcher
the pork-chop is not the pig—The American
alien in America is a bitter truncation; and even
this elegy, dear Jack, shall have a butchered
tree, a tree beaten to a pulp, upon which it'll be
contained—no wonder no good news can be
written on such bad news—
How alien the natural home, aye, aye, how dies the tree when
the ground is foreign, cold, unfree—The winds
know not to blow the seed of the Redwood where
none before stood; no palm is blown to Oregon,
how wise the wind—Wise
too the senders of the prophet. . . knowing the
fertility of the designated spot where suchmeant
prophecy be announced and answerable—the
sower of wheat does not sow in the fields of cane;
for the sender of the voice did also send the ear.
And were little Liechtenstein, and not America, the
designation. . . surely then we'd the tongues of
Liechtenstein—
Was not so much our finding America as it was America finding
its voice in us; many spoke to America as though
America by land-right was theirs by law-right
legislatively acquired by materialistic coups of
wealth and inheritance; like the citizen of society
believes himself the owner of society, and what he
makes of himself he makes of America and thus when
he speaks of America he speaks of himself, and quite
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Corso
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If You Ever Make a Mistake
If you make a mistake,
Admit it.
And get it right out of your way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape.
Believing what is done is okay!
If you ever make a mistake,
Just admit it!
And get it out of the way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape...
That mistake someday you'll repay!
There's no need for moaning or groaning,
Over what's been done.
No one lives a perfect life,
Under the Sun!
Alibis are like houseflies.
They begin to annoy.
And habits are like pests when invited...
They are hard to destroy.
Even if you hit 'em with a bat...
They come right back!
If you make a mistake,
Admit it.
And get it right out of your way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape.
Believing what is done is okay!
If you ever make a mistake,
Just admit it!
And get it out of the way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape...
That mistake someday you'll repay!
Strap in that saddle and take that ride.
Admit that mistake made,
And push it aside!
'Okay, okay, okay!
So I made a mistake.
So what's the big deal? '
~Getting you to admit it! ~
If you make a mistake,
Admit it.
And get it right out of your way.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some-Fake-A Baked Cake
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
A peaceless sleep...
Like many who walk 'mean' streets.
No I wont have,
None of that!
Strung out on dope,
Because I can't cope.
No I don't have,
None of that to keep me off track.
Or,
Make an impact.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
Psychotic I'm not...
Like the ones who worry a lot.
Or hooked on smoking pot.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have,
That which I don't!
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have,
That which I don't!
Even though...
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
And I wont have...
None of that.
Even though...
Some-fake-a baked cake.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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