"pretenders" poems
1»When a woman love you, she will do anything possible to be with you.
2»When a woman loves you, she will sacrifice her happiness to make you smile.
3»When a woman loves you, she will not delay accepting you as a lover, when she haz accepted you,she will show you care and give you attention needed in relationship or marriage.
4»When a woman loves you bro, she will do things that make your friends and you thinks she is throwing herself on you. Bro! She truly lovez you so much, don't take her love for granted.
5»When a woman loves a man, she will call the guy on phone more than the guy calls her everyday.
6»When a woman truly loves a man, she will visit you all the time, calls you, helps you,care and give you attention more than she gives herself and family.
7»When a woman loves a man, she will do what she vows not to do in this life. She will do it for you and for love but women always end up regretting for doing undo things because many men are deceivers and pretenders.
8»When a woman truly loves a man, she will turn down serious men ready to marry her whereby she is not even sure if the guy will marry her in the future. funny_people.
9»When a woman truly loves you, she gonna be romantic, care for you, respect you, encourage and support your dreams in this life, she will do anything possible to assist you achieve it.
10» When a woman truly loves you, she will surely want the best for you, she will not cheat on you or hurt you, she will let everybody know that she loves you, she will be proud of you bro , she will not find it hard to forgive your imperfection but not when you cheated, she will love you sincerely and ready to die because of your love, BRO when she truly loves you,she want nothing but marriage.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 1:03 AM UTC
To know just where your're going
You must know where you've been
You must respect the history
The things others have seen
It's true in all things relative
Be it music, sports or life
If you don't know where you came from
You're just dancing on a knife
Gherig, Ruth and Robinson
May, and Mantle, Seaver too
Respect their contributions
And don't just say Ruth who?
Respect where things have come from
And the players of the past
Because you learn and make things better
It's what makes the **** game last
Jimmy Foxx, Bob Gibson, Kaline
Nestor Chylak and The Goose
They made baseball special
They gave the game a little juice
Orr, Richard and Gretzky
Gordie Howe and Howie Morenz
You have to know about them
You need the beginning to your ends
Bob Baun and Bill Barilko
Connie Smythe and yeah...the Chief
You have to know their history
They're what it is to be a Leaf
The game has changed immensely
Things can not go back in time
But to me...the old alumni
Made the game I know as mine
Respect the ones before you
The ones who laid the groundwork down
The ones who made it special
The non-pretenders to the crown
Elvis, Buddy, Harrison
Played the songs inside their heart
Lennon, Wilson and the rest
They all played a real big part
Every single generation
should learn from the one before
For if they don't know where they've come from
Then what has it all been for?
Nicklaus, Palmer, Bobby Jones
Sarazen and Hogan too
They pushed the gameright to it's limits
Now the pressure's upon you
The new breed are the teachers now
They're the ones to lead the way
When twenty or so years from now
You'll hear somebody say
"Respect who came before you
The ones who made us so **** proud
LIke Nash and , Perry and Taylor Hall
They played the game so loud
Pudge, Jeter, and Verlander
they brought it up a notch
They were there to stretch the limits
Not to just sit by and watch
Rory, Justin Rose and Mahan
Bubba, Dustin and the rest
They are the players of the future
They all respected the games best
So, to know where you are going
You must know where you have been
Respect, past through the future
And all that's happened in between.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
Dear fifteen year old self,
I know you have never met me.
And you never will, for I took over...
Grew from your essence.
But I just wanted to let you know a few things.
See that face of yours? The one you cry in front of in the mirror? You're beautiful. You're changing from a cute awkward little kid into a strong wonderful, inspiringly beautiful woman. Trust nature. Wipe your tears, and believe that it's okay. You're 15. Relax. You're pretty. Those big brown eyes will get you anything you wish for. Trust me. I know.
Next, see that boy? The cute one who knows how to talk a little bit too smoothly... Who's a little bit too cheeky.... There's no point in me telling you to stay away because we both know that doesn't work. We are the same person after all... Just be careful...... And whatever you do, DO NOT sleep with him. You're too young. You're gonna have your first kiss, and he's gonna make you feel like you're flying and falling and being caught all at the one time.... But you're not. You're going to kiss people 1000 times better than that, you'll realise it was sloppy and kind of a waste of eight months.
But the heartbreak. When he leaves you for your best friend.. When you're left without anyone beside you. That will honestly almost **** you. But you'll be okay. The fact that you feel this way makes you become the strong beautiful woman you are today. You can get through it, all of it, even the **** that's not about the guy. The **** that is going on inside your head, inside your home.... You'll survive. And you'll write.
One last thing, I'm sure I'm missing a few things, maybe I'll realise them when I'm a little bit older...... But that musical talent you've got, it's there.... It's in your ears... And possibly your voice. That's a grey area at the moment. You're going to find your way. And musicians should come with warning signs..... danger sheer drop ahead like at the end of the road in a cartoon where the path turns into a cliff....... Because you'll fall, when you're around my age. And they are very good pretenders. Be careful sweetheart.
It's never too late.
You're growing up so beautifully.
Be proud.
And try not to be too sad........
Love,
18 year old you...
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
reverence in poetry. everything to every person.
reader claims they can a necessary skill for
uncover the reverence. successful hypothecating and
in the scripts that (buying)poetry-creation outta nothing,
life straight hands me, tell them what thy want to hear,
for collection & correction, and they’ll call you laureate,
secretarial transcribing, instead of good listener
binding, typo correction or just a keen observer-fakir
mundane are the tasks, just take what they give ya,
that’s all them muses ask, dress it like Joseph in a
don’t interfere, taken what’s given, coat of many colors,
bow, curtsy, show respect, don’t let on your plagiarism
treat its aspects/instincts correctly is all them, redressed legally
you’re just the pass through agent, true you, gotta be smart about it,
patient for no payment expected, variant spellings, swinging verbs,
be our adherent, not our truant, be discreet, they’ll call your script
we appoint don’t disappoint, a real keeper and give love or sun,
accept our patent, render legit mucho poem emojis accoladeya
as for this reverence thinge devil in a blue dress, walk the streets
if I do my job ok, on any day, grabbing snatches of overhearings,
any poem could save a life, pressed into a single tunic, you think,
if I get the commas placed, he a genius, knows my thinking,
just right, the periods period, exactly, what a great poet and
while obeying the speed limit con/hu-man par excellent
them muses so **** pleased even fool muses, too full themselves,
by this true confession released, muses who think we stink and
and self deprecation, couldn’t do it without them
they call me reverend, great pretenders by stealing
imagine them silly folk, everything in everybody and
calling a big fat liar. all thieves and cape riders,
reverend, duh, the end original liars, pants on fire
before midnight and after 3:20am April 7~8, two oh nineteen
any message you send becomes my intellectual property, fool....
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC
the night sweeps in with its great, black wings.
rustling, silk feathers.
i'm caught in the envelope, suffocated in midnight down.
i lay next to a man who is not mine and i am not his.
handsome. nice. respectable.
everything that good for me, being chaos, and he is warm.
i can feel his heart beside me. pulse. pulse. pulse.
heartbeat that is not my own. some kind of security 've missed.
but i don't feel secure.
the rhythm is not the one i love.
i lay next to a man who is not mine and i am not his.
we could label ourselves pretenders, but wed know anyways.
eyes flutter, a shiver runs through me.
braille. braille. braille flesh.
i am the pretender, creating my world as i go along.
this world is bleak in the winter. forced by the earth to be patient.
he isn't you. doesn't think. doesn't look. doesn't feel like you.
i turn over, away, stare out the window.
imagine you somewhere else, imagine you with me.
you sit in your chair, watching me. candlelight flickers.
dances over our faces, spills over the walls and settles between us.
megan. megan. are you asleep?
what? oh. he was talking to me.
back to reality.
i lay next to a man who isn't mine, and i am not his to love.
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 12:06 PM UTC
7/12/12 16:25pm
At what price does man find favour with God?
Down through the roiling clouds, from heavenly heights to earthly clay,
where scribes had written scrolls of doctrines;
down through old crumbling architraves, temples of cold ideals,
man spawned the Vengeful Word.
With rage of angels,
like effigies of gods, there sprang forth lords and hypocrites;
all claimed to speak for God.
Then, in the maelstrom,
came genocide of innocents, and hellfire fell like rain.
When does a tower become too tall for God?
Out of a clear blue sky came silver harbingers of doom,
where men were writing drafts and spreadsheets;
now crumbling down around them, swathed in hate-begotten fire;
spawned from a vengeful god.
No mortal angels
could save the ones who perished, caught above the line of flame;
while some below survived.
Yet, in the chaos,
sworn enemies in faith came out to save each other's fall.
At what price can man enter Paradise?
High above the minarets, the veiled dome of the sky
students look up with wistful longing;
yearning to be good radicals and cross the lines of fire
to reap heaven's reward.
Hate's vengeful angels
pretenders to the throne of God take many shapes and forms,
while moderates stay quiet;
and with their silence
give passive leave for lunatics to prate at heaven's door.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 11:28 AM UTC
Concinnity of rapid motion in balance and proportion,
round the ballroom, like the synchronized frequency
of vibration in a crystal quartz. Whirling contortion
of bodies embraced in movement's revealing intimacy.
They are partners. They are dancers. They are lovers
wantonly stoking libido's hot glowing embers;
promenade affirming keen awareness to the vigors
of the steps, footfalls and technique of its pretenders.
Gown and tux attired, passionate accessories to the cult;
merengue, fox-trot, rhumba, abandonment's fertility rites
to gods and goddesses, danced with such elegant result,
they are immortalized in time --- divine service to the night.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
In the shade of the freeway
The pretenders stalks his prey
Innocence quite uncorrupted
Until today.
In the shade of the willow tree
You lay here next to me
Draped in Spanish moss
Cicada symphony.
In the shade of the old motel
Feels like she's got to sell
Cigarette lights up the night
Sees a face she knows too well.
Jul 22, 2011
Jul 22, 2011 at 6:43 AM UTC
an intergalactic being of the static
trying not to panic
in the sporadic antics
of a frantic romantic
manic freak
bobbing to the beat
of drones and sheep
as the storms seep
from the more discrete
holes in my heart
render me obsolete
and deplete me from afar
weave me the dreams of delicate surrender
cleave me at the seams in vicious splendor
deceive me in the memes of malicious pretenders
and take me to never was
tell me of the ridiculous
the insidious
the belligerence of thugs
the deliverance of slugs
the hideous
wrap me in a rug
with no love
*****
drugs
and a mean mug
peacefully pitiful
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
I only pretend with pretenders
And contend with contenders
I'm only giving to the givers
And forgiving to forgivers
I'm only strange with strangers
And dangerous with dangers
I'm only hateful to the haters
And traitorous to traitors
©
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
Some go out in a blaze of glory, some with a crazy, sad story.
I am not sure which I have chosen but it may get very gory.
I don’t care any longer about the skies I see
Or the dreams I’ve had that cease to be.
I am tired, sore and I hurt in mind and in the fairy soul
I know at this late stage I never will be whole.
I do not want to urge it on but simply to not worry
I want those who give a **** to know there was no hurry.
Music sounds dull, words are boring, what’s left to say
all that’s left is for a fool like me to pick a day.
No more pills, no checking, no pecking no heeding
no worrying, no trying and paining when you stop succeeding.
There are no magic cures for us, just pretenders selling dreams
and the rest get rich selling us on their schemes.
I will go when I go, doing just what I choose to do
Then the task of being someone special will suddenly be through.
Copyright/1/2014
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
Clash against the norm
Silence the pretenders
Protest the unbridled hypocrisy
Tear it down
Spit in the face of denial
Trample your offenders
Give no mercy
For they have no compassion
In the face of adversity
Be a force of reckoning
Or die with a knife in your back
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
*We lose so much talent to addiction
Some of you may not care, but I do
This is my tribute to them*
**Alan Wilson
Canned Heat
Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Janis Joplin
Jim Morrison
The Doors
Brian Cole
The Association
Billy Murcia
New York Dolls
Danny Whitten
Crazy Horse
Gram Parsons
The Stooges
Gary Thain
Uriah Heep
Elvis Presley
Gregory Herbert
Blood, Sweat & Tears
Keith Moon
The Who
Sid Vicious
*** Pistols
Lowell George
Little Feat
Jimmy McCulloch
Wings
John Bonham
Led Zeppelin
Darby Crash
Germs
James Honeyman-Scott
Pretenders
Pete Farndon
Pretenders
Paul Gardiner
Tubeway Army
Gary Holton
Heavy Metal Kids
Phil Lynott
Thin Lizzy
Andrew Wood
Mother Love Bone
Brent Mydland
Grateful Dead
Steve Clark
Def Leppard
Johnny Thunders
New York Dolls
David Ruffin
The Temptations
Kristen Pfaff
Hole
Shannon Hoon
Blind Melon
Bradley Nowell
Sublime
John Kahn
Jerry Garcia Band
Jonathan Melvoin
The Smashing Pumpkins
Billy Mackenzie
Associates
West Arkeen
The Outpatience
Nick Traina
Link 80
John Baker Saunders
Mad Season
Bobby Sheehan
Blues Traveler
Wes Berggren
Tripping Daisy
Allen Woody
The Allman Brothers Band
Carl Crack
Atari Teenage Riot
Layne Staley
Alice in Chains/Mad Seasons
Kurt Cobain
Nirvana
Dee Dee
Ramones
Robbin Crosby
Ratt
John Entwistle
The Who
Howie Epstein
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Jeremy Michael Ward
De Facto
Tim Hemensley
GOD
Dave Schulthise
The Dead Milkmen
Rick James
Kevin DuBrow
Quiet Riot
Ike Turner
Gidget Gein
Marilyn Manson
Jay Bennett
Wilco
Michael Jackson
The Rev
Avenged Sevenfold
Paul Gray
Slipknot
Mike Starr
Alice in Chains
Amy Winehouse**
*We are not bad people, we just have bad ways
Yet, not many understand*
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
The best actors, with the best directors and producers are in church.
We just play along to make it work.
We all have sinned during the week.
Then get in church and pray for a change.
Just to get out and do it again.
Only fooling ourselves and a few others.,
But not fooling God.
Scams and schemes he plays no part.
We all know those that holds position within church.
Mainly because others don't want the pressure.
Comedians jokes about them.
And we laugh.
Especially when they talk about the ministers ,sisters, elders and deacons.
Even the rabbi and the priest.
We all are actors of this earth.
Pushing on an image to please others.
The only real ones within the church, are the children.
After all, God has stated a child should lead us.
And they are the ones not to be called pretenders.
We have various actors ready to jump.
And claim they doing it in the name of the lord.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
I have nothing with or against you
and this really means nothing
but the fact that I am free
the world is full of love-slaves
illusionists and pretenders
politicals or apoliticals
atheists or christians
each one is only saving his appearance
tell these thieves to **** off
and let us be kidnapped by The Circus
let us be made Princes and Frogs
in this ********* happy end
of the world
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 9:22 AM UTC
the towers have fallen
there is only homeland security
there is only the c.i.a.
watching us now
and you!
so lovely!
and you!
so holy,
sensuous, free!
so truly feared
by the alien pretenders
so truly hated
(just like he, just like she,
just like me)
the towers have fallen
the foundations are shattered
there is only
you, he, she, and me
homeland security
and the c.i.a.
Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 4:19 PM UTC
We've been this way for a very long time, we've been together for more time than you can imagine. Little weary chains link our minds, looping in and out and up and down. We're this tangled mess of synced thoughts and synced dreams, and sinking syllables.
Every sigh that you let slip from your tired lips is an indication of my exhaustion, because you and I, we lie in comfortable tessellation.
You and I, we've been through magical realism, and the romantics, and the surrealists, the grammar nazis and the pretenders.
You and I, we've etched each other in shifting sands, in clumsy waves.
You and I, we know each other's movements across a blank sheet of paper.
You waltz onto empty pages with constellations for punctuation. Screens may read verbose sacrifices to the patron saint of inspiration, but you, you don't stop or pause to check for abbreviation.
You take half hearted syllables and turn them into poetic nations, you build monuments to love but you neglect infatuation.
You try to touch every single figment of my overactive imagination but then you shuffle away so as not to cause complete annihilation.
You speak lucid languages in times of complete inebriation and you continue this slurred speech against all drunk invitations.
You try to write me down in moments of utter desperation but the grip of your words falter as I run to my wild desolation.
You and I, we've run across clouds, left our footprints in the wake of comets.
You and I, we've sailed all the seas of consciousness, those that can be fathomed, and otherwise.
Slowly, your step exceeded mine, and your stride was longer, so I struggled to keep time. Slowly, I felt our tangles unwind. Slowly, our roots straightened out in a single line and you crossed it.
You crossed it.
Un Saut dans le vide, a leap into the dark, and you were up, up and away. I wanted to trap you in cunning similes, but you were running as fast as the wind.
Little weary chains that linked our minds now struggle at the seams, tiny links begin to
unlink,
unlink,
unlink.
one
by
one
by
one.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
Why do I safeguard around words that don't satisfy
It has no meaning to even exist in such a one set mind world you can't even ask to be relevant it's a shame that realism is wasted in the pretenders but those who have streamed in the main often suffer less
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 2:39 AM UTC
Dressed as humans, we pretend to be civilized,
glib talk, fine clothes, all smiles;
conceal the naked ape, trying our best, with pretenses,
but, it bares its teeth, at the first chance.
we know its a game of concealment and camouflage,
still we pretend everything is hunky- dory,
I am a military strategist who loves that art,
sweetheart, you a con artist par excellence,
we are the best of this species,
we thrive, prosper and proliferate.
come, let's dance, dance in this unholy hour.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 4:55 AM UTC
Pearls
Crystals
Precious stones
or even just
paste pretenders
threaded through
polished perfection
sunlight kept hostage
mirrored moon glow
tiny shiny planets draw
foreign bodies into orbits
while blinking stars
frame infinity
on fragile human canvas
spilling faceted
rainbows
upon even dullest of
days
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
*They pretend
That they don't see
What's going on...
They pretend
That there's no bully
And that the girl
She did just fall...
They pretend
That there's no cuts
On her wrists...
They pretend
That she isn't crying
Or feeling alone...
They pretend
That there was nothing
Which they could have done
To change what happened...
They pretend
That it wasn't their ignorance
Which killed her
In the end...
These pretenders
Keeps lying
To themselves*
**It's time to wake up
And
Stop to pretend...**
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
We all are actors.
Pretenders in life.
Directed by circumstances that come before us.
We, also are life's producers.
Before spouses, we act out apart.
Before bosses, we pretend to be so involved.
Especially in church, where we know what expected of us?
Yes, we all are actors.
Just mainly unpaid.
We , write our own scripts and even edited it.
We also add more to it.
Pretend when required.
Be true to inspire.
We are actors nominated many of times
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
She was smoked
salmon so spread
Like his creme of
the crop
Smoking hot circles
0-0 0______No-No
The points... Dots
And shoe size petite___-
The whole website
To love and honor
Whats in her moves
The private Dancer
May I never be dropped
To be overly loved
I am not asking for more
The score more or less
can be
The greatest dancer
O yes, so many pretenders?
More spread like_______
Mr ((Mayonaise__meeting
Handsomely Hellman
Falling into your
embrace Tango-Tie
I- Apple creme pie
to phone U
May I tango 4-U
Sweet lips of mango
Don't shed one tear
Listen to what is said?
How her dance step
to be read
next year to be wed
Like your hot rods
and hubcaps near
your bed choices
To sweep me off my
feet well said
The tango soprano voices
The Hub
Rubbing my
dancer's feet his treat
Wildflower Salsa beat
Emotional dance
The Tango
Graphically
Cool______ design
Contacts to sign
To his excitement
Steps are well
worth
the dividends
Drinking tapas
The fine tip of gratis
Sign sealed and
dance delivered
In an instant
dancing contract
Two bodies dance
as one__________*
Flaming intertwined
Brazilian Silky- hair
Mr. May-0 tango pair
Mr. Hellman
merci beaucoup
His desires came with the loop
The mixture mango scoop
May-0, not the May Day
No clouds passing
in grays
So festive never passive
Well made beaded
Peacock Miss Marrietta
The Birds of the feather
Expression of sensual faces
To impress the right man
Distinctly dressed
Explanation point
May I interject my
point______________
Tropical sandals high-point
Tango dancers have a
the certain way
The lovely maiden
Names day and age
Eyes engage contest page
He to her side fancy
May- 0 in her Prime
(Hello)
Another Day-Oh!
Don't move her dancer
days to sail away
Sea breeze perfect per day
Her fancy dancer
shoes not on
layaway
* * * * *
In the now a dancer
nowadays taking flight
Every day always
the dancer's way
You Amaze so blessed
Like your possessed
* * * *
Titans in a blaze
How it may arise
He was dancing to her
movement ****** salsa
To her toes up to her
Tango lips amazing dips
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC