If I am no longer disturbed myself, I will deal less with disturbed people, but I don't regret having concerned myself with them because I think most of us are disturbed.
quote by Tennessee Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do You Want To Be Disturbed?
Do you want to be disturbed?
By your family
By your friend
By your relation
By unknown people
Do you want to be disturbed?
With their problem
With their need
With their worry
With their temptation
Do you want to be disturbed?
In inconvenient place
In unexpected moment
In weary condition
In mixed emotion
Do you want to be disturbed?
And will you be glad
And will you grumble
And will you ignore
And will you be generous
Do you want to be disturbed?
And still give your ears
And still give your hands
And still give your smile
And still give your hour
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Close The Door
cos I'm the one who knows everyone bar ber que lungs
none of you know what I'm thinking
who on earth would believe a word that you say
your disturbed in a strange facinated way
your disturbed, I think your disturbed
I've told you once
to switch all the lights off
you never believe that
stay near the windowthe window
phone me at 3 or 4
close the door (1, 2, 3, 4)
phone me at 3 or 4
time for the math test
I come over to you, at your chair you face up
I reply politely stare back
back
I'm so backward
I almost forgot
why I'm sitting
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be not disturbed at being misunderstood; be disturbed rather at not being understanding.
Be not disturbed at being misunderstood; be disturbed at not understanding.
It Is Just A Poem
what i write is just a poem
do not let it disturb you, they are just letters forming words
words forming a phrase
forming an idea to your mind as you read them
it is just a poem, it is just like a movie
let it not disturb you then, sleep and dream
but somehow if it has disturbed you, and you cannot stop it from
disturding you, then let yourself be disturbed and let yourself think
about it:
why are you disturbed?
now, it is not just a poem
it is me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Without being disturbed
Without being disturbed
You are here
You appeared and you disappeared
You are not here to know
Summer winter happiness disaster.
Without being disturbed
You are here
Nobody is there to kill you
Nobody can kill you
The word kill is but a chill.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I Want You To Go, Please Go
please go now
it is dark and you need sleep
you are tired, you are disturbed, and i do not want to be the reason
for your disturbed feelings
leave me alone
i always have to suffer alone
it is my season of pain, it my turn to be miserable
i will be alone in this and you cannot be of help
no one can
it is me finally caught in my own world of loneliness
the world that i write about so many times described in all
my poems
please go now, i do not want to see a beautiful person like you crying
let there be no tears
and sobs
a gentleman like me still has dignity
let me have the honor, the opportunity to go in peace
to the world that i can no longer write and talk about
because it will be indescribable
because there i am no longer myself
but another being
perhaps with wings and with feelings which are so light
like floating and drifting clouds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love Of Pity Soars
When my wife interrupts
I get disturbed with irks.
When my child interrupts
I get disturbed for joy.
Love born of pity soars
Unlike love of commitment.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I have a lot of sympathy for young people because I realize how disturbed I was. How would I deal with life in the future? What would I do for a living?
quote by Clyde Tombaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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12 Years later In The Land Of Joy
The arrows of war!
12 years later in the land of joy!
But my red-burry nights are now disturbed by the bombs.
Where are the tombs to bury all these people? !
For this war is like my loneliness with my blue-burry nights;
But i was disturbed by the stray bullets! !
In the land of joy and in the land of love,
The land of joy is now bombarded here and there! !
And this looks like a hole where the lions went in,
But my mind still rests on all those years gone by.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Animals Aren’t Criminals
Animals strike men when disturbed.
Men strike animals before disturbed.
Animals kill for food; men for sports too.
Among animals there is no criminal.
18.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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People are not disturbed by things, but by the view they take of them.
Been and Are Disturbed
Let's make a pact...
To announce our delusions
As reality,
And never look back!
At least we can keep in our minds,
Visions that will never have to deal with truth!
Or the fact that we have been...
And are,
Mentally affected and obviously disturbed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Snippy To A Snap Dragon
On my door,
Before the dawn awakens the dew...
You knock.
As if to be anticipated.
And I creep up to the window.
To take a peek at the creep,
Who disturbed my few hours of sleep.
And discover...
That 'creep' is you!
And sneaky with my peeking too,
Because I don't want to open my door...
To allow us to even speak.
My cup has runneth over...
From your drama you wish me to include.
You made it easy to stay away from you.
And not have my peace disturbed on purpose.
You made it easy to stay away from you.
And the conflicts you initiate to agitate.
But at this hour you have chosen,
I nor it...
Will be used to bait me to let you in,
To begin any scenes.
Especially the ones you choose to react,
As the main character.
With you biting off the head,
Of anyone who has had it.
And becomes,
Just a bit too snippy to a snap dragon.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A disturbed child
For hours and days we talked, and there was that portion
Of that honest conversation when he opened a certain
Cabinet where a black-covered diary contains a page of the story
About a disturbed child,
A confused child, not because he was not born like
Any other new born child, on a package-deal of innocence
For a start of his existence,
A happy child, a normal child with a
Loving and caring ma and pa and excited siblings
To receive him as another playmate added to their house,
At most, the conversation changed to a slow motion
In that portion,
He showed some serious indications, a gaze of a man,
Undistracted by her poise for casualness and
A consideration that this is nothing but another kind
Of a light conversation unlike no other,
It is not, this is serious, he said, because this is true and this really
Happened, the cabinet and the diary are nothing but
Fronts to fictional realities,
He was the disturbed child, and he is going to tell her about it,
Today,
He did not have a happy childhood, as he once told the Jesuits,
Who accepted him to their fold,
And for which he, of course took his graceful exit,
Because he is a liar,
He began talking about some bamboo sticks which hit him,
The sack which enclosed him, the rope which hanged him
On the kitchen beam,
The ants that bit him while he
Kneeled on mongo beans under a scorching sun, and the mother
He still very well remembers,
She was not able to do anything to save him.
She too was part of
That disturbance, the slap that still left a mark of humiliation on his
Left cheek,
A scar on his childhood, forever. She died earlier than expected.
He, the villain, did not.
Not the child, who later escaped from hell.
that child though disturbed by his past, is now given the right to speak.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Egos Addicted
Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.
How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!
Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.
And those elected to protect their 'treats',
Find they've become accountable...
To ease a reality upon these minds.
Teasing them with beliefs of victory!
When deceit and defeat...
Has surrounded them for sometime!
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!
How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Song Of The Broken Man
I am a broken man
With a broken thought
Nobody likes me
Even the world hates me
I am nothing but useless
With my whole life
For when I was a child
My life is already dead
I am sorry to those people
That I hurt
To those people
That I disturbed
When I am gone
Nobody will care
On my precious grave
You will no longer remember me
For I am an ash
Farewell my greatest enemies
For I will no longer exist
The shadows of darkness
Will guide me through hell
Farewell! Farewell!
And when I am gone
Celebrate my greatest defeat!
poem by Rey Benipayo
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This Living Earth Is Sick of Conflicts
There is going to be an end of violence.
With a silencing of disturbed minds burned.
Increased mental illnesses will afflict.
Evidence of that,
Now exists.
This living Earth is sick of conflicts.
And those 'experiments' that leech upon it!
Many are trying to find signs to depict the end.
And the ones in worship of the falsities of deities...
Have symbolized them in flesh,
And not in 'spirits' that oversees all of their misdeeds!
There is going to be an end of violence.
With a silencing of disturbed minds burned.
Increased mental illnesses will afflict.
Evidence of that,
Now exists.
And yet there are those...
Believing they command and control,
The outcome!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If I was in a room with a bunch of skinheads talking about racism, then I would be disturbed, but after we finished a take, we were normal people again.
quote by Edward Furlong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Have Nothing To Say Today
I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY TODAY
I have nothing to say today-
And what I said yesterday,
No longer means much-
What I say tomorrow too,
Will not resound throughout the universe.
All that these endless words have given
Is one long silence-
Which should have disturbed less.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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