Who offends writes on sand; who is offended, on marble.
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The person who offends writes as if it was written on sand, and the person who is offended reads it as if it were written on marble.
The offender writes in dust, the offended writes in marble.
Must
She writes as if there’s not much time.
She writes to pain, to happiness,
She writes to every remote detailed thought.
She writes to the departed,
to the extant,
to poverty,
to wealth.
She writes to mourn, and grief.
She writes to the wind, the rain,
forest, the desert, and mountains.
She writes to her pouring tears,
to her grateful moments,
She writes because really what she has is time.
She has no little ones to feed, or bathe,
nor a husband to make happy. To write is
to escape- to her. Time is not a problem, time
is just a killing system, she needs to kill in many words.
She writes as if there’s not much time.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Friendships Do Not Begin That Way
What purpose is served by befriending someone,
With the giving of respect?
Who later offends with a comfort that generates,
A disrespecting with a belief what is done is okay?
It isn't!
If friendships do not begin that way,
More often than not...
That is usually the way they end!
With someone feeling highly offended.
And another comprehending the reason.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enjoyed The Most
To say we are the victims of our own actions,
Is to confess that whatever it is that offends...
Has had an invitation to irritate!
If not,
And there will be those who disagree...
Then we are all conscious of being offended,
By whatever we pretend does not exist.
While the delusional side of life,
Is enjoyed the most.
With a protesting done against reality,
Deemed as a protective act...
To keep truth from being faced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The hurt man writes with steel on a marble stone.
If One Smiling Looks out of Place
Why do you smile now all the time?
It looks out of place.
Especially around those,
Adorning exposed frowns on their faces.
'I've found a different approach to reveal my bitterness.
I have discovered this way expresses my agitation.
And if anyone is offended,
They would have to ask themselves why this offends? '
It does not offend as much as it just looks out of place.
'Well...
Don't you think that is a sad commentary to make?
If one smiling looks out of place...
That should irritate everyone as to what it is they find important.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For the couple to move closer
When he offends his kin,
His wife must defend them.
When she offends her kin,
Her spouse must defend them
Then both will move closer.
03.11.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Reflections 101
he writes not because
he wants to be read and
be understood
got him wrong really
he writes because he likes
to live
life writes upon himself
and so he writes upon life too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Writes The Pages Of These Scripted Fantasies?
What is it that people expect,
From those they have outwardly offended?
A warm and loving embrace...
And tears dripping from eyes,
From those finally getting a reception...
They have been secretly wishing?
Who writes the pages of these scripted fantasies?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The More This Truth Is Mentioned
If a people can not see,
Their own beliefs and activities...
Have been directly associated to their divisions,
With a making of decisions to consciously destruct.
As if in a competition to win a prize,
For the doing of it to prove themselves thoughtless.
And being with the times lived out of their touch.
What necessitates their calls for a unity to be believed?
To solicit more recruits in the doing of more conflicts?
Hasn't the effects been magnified enough?
When an awakening to self examine,
Is the ingredient that is missing.
But...
The more this truth is mention the more it offends.
And the more they feel offended,
The more they look for it to depend.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Book Of Suleika - The Loving One Again
WRITES he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Tali,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!--for he loves!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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We may live without her, and worship without her, but we cannot remember without her. How cold is all history, how lifeless all imagery, compared to that which the living nation writes, and the uncorrupted marble bears
quote by John Ruskin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wishing To Believe They Are Exempt
As a mere child,
I recognized racism existed.
And nothing has changed,
Regardless who interprets it.
Or those who remain in denial,
Of its growing existence...
Wishing to believe they are exempt?
Because they have done the best they can,
To become accepted by the ignorance.
And feel offended when they do not fit in?
Today...
Color is the least thing people can find,
To prioritize what offends them.
And with a dissecting of ignorance,
With an encouragment that evryone should participate...
The process to end all dilemmas would begin.
But then again,
Only fools find comfort in their own limitations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Write injuries in the sand, kindnesses in marble.
The Pot Of Gold At The End Of The Rainbow
tonight she takes us to Dubai
the place where new dreams are woven
from sand
they left the lands of their birth
to work in the land where
the color of gold is black
my friend writes:
the pot of gold is found right here
come, come and be with us
there is nothing in the land where you live
the promise is broken
there is no token
come, come and be with us
let us partake of this sadness
from the sand and sun of Dubai
you must say goodbye.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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419
tonight she takes us to Dubai
the place where new dreams are woven
from sand
they left the lands of their birth
to work in the land where
the color of gold is black
my friend writes:
the pot of gold is found right here
come, come and be with us
there is nothing in the land where you live
the promise is broken
there is no token
come, come and be with us
let us partake of this sadness
from the sand and sun of Dubai
you must say goodbye.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Things Others Do
YOU,
May tolerate your laziness.
But me?
I find it offends.
Perhaps,
I know what it takes to be disciplined.
And those accepting mediocrity with ease...
Is like hearing the screeching,
With chalk on a blackboard...
Intentionally begin.
YOU,
May tolerate your laziness.
But me?
I find it offends.
And I know I represent,
An older generation now!
However...
Some things others do,
I will not let go unmentioned.
It is wonderful to see someone attempting their best.
And that effort seems to grab my attention!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unaccustomed to Having An Identity
Have you ever been in a situation,
In which you insulted others...
When you had a preference,
To begin to use your own given name?
And others became offended by that?
Others became offended...
Because you announced a clarity of your identity.
AND...
This offended?
AND...
You then became so proud of who you were,
Your entire presence began to threaten?
Especially those unaccustomed to having an identity!
The ones from birth until death,
Are only known by their nicknames.
And they are related to people who will never know,
Their real names.
Ever!
Have you ever been in a situation,
In which you insulted others...
When you had a preference,
To begin to use your own given name?
And the next thing they want you to do,
Is to get 'right' with God.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Written in Black Ink
Upon
The tear-stained
Paper
She writes
Writes,
Her story
Her experiences
Her life
Written in
Black ink
Upon
The tear-stained
Paper
She writes
Writes,
Her sorrows
People she lost
People who are gone
Written in
Black ink
She writes for
Days and
Days
Until
At last
Her masterpiece
Is finished
Her eyes Begin to
Close and
Oblivion Takes hold
And when she
Awakens
Her story will be written
Written in black ink
poem by Autumn Winds
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