A Redundancy Enjoyed
'...i began to discover these scenes,
and repetitious themes in my mind.
as if there was a permanency i would miss,
if they did not exist!
i had to break away to find another way,
to revitalize misspent energies.
if i did not...
a darkness allowed would descend,
from clouds i seeded.
did i need that?
did i wish my steps to continue to wet,
and soak in rain?
or did i want to feel sunshine...
without complaints,
sitting quick to pick...
effortlessly...
with no achievement gained.
to leave me to sift through conflicts i'd woo! '
Many are still straddling the fence.
Trying to make sense,
Of relentless nonsense.
Easily found...
With an ignorance 'cloned',
And often clowned!
Of course,
This 'resourcefulness' has been there
For quite sometime.
Seeking explanations to define...
Why such stunted satisfactions,
Leaving the uninvolved feeling fine!
Many witness and approve...
Undo welcomed visits with grief.
As if in competition...
To seek a life that's 'pleathered',
And goldleaf!
Nothing genuine or original is sought.
Especially if it takes,
A mind that stretches with fresh thoughts!
There is a redundancy enjoyed...
Locked inside these shallow boxes.
Sitting or pacing in trots,
Are those daily out foxed.
Thrilled to hop scotch...
Through obnoxious pity plots!
There is a redundancy enjoyed...
Locked inside these shallow boxes.
And applying a fresh coat of pettiness,
In a cycle to achieve...
An exposed nothingness believed correct,
And perfected!
Many are still straddling the fence.
Trying to make sense,
Of relentless nonsense.
Easily found...
And with an ignorance 'cloned',
In a desperation clowned.
Joking until the last door to them is closed...
Knocking only then with a seriousness,
To begin again on paths chosen to walk.
With intention and not pretense,
That came and stalked.
Decades ago...
When these movements of purpose,
Should and did then
Without cloak or daggered mystery to expose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Exploring Your Options
What side do you stand on,
In the midst of change?
Or have you chosen a comfortable position,
In which to remain sitting on the fence.
In the hopes that doing so,
Will convince time to let you go...
Ignored.
There are clear divisions and splits,
Beginning to exist.
And a straddling of a fence,
Will not permit a sitting to stay comforted.
What side do you stand on,
In the midst of change?
Or have you chosen a comfortable position,
In which to remain sitting on the fence.
In the hopes that doing so,
Will convince time to let you go...
Ignored.
Without exploring your options.
And those you still have!
But not for too long.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Said Before To Say It Again
On my mind are these times.
And I do find these times on my mind,
Hard to define.
With a keeping of those,
Feeling these times have them boxed in.
And on my mind,
There is a reason to seek rhythm and rhyme.
With my visions set,
On what it would take...
To increase my happiness.
I've said this before to say it again.
I'm not looking for stoppers,
To block as obstacles to hop over.
Or the welcoming arms of acceptance.
With a hope that they will open,
The gates to a fence to feel I've been approved.
On my mind are these times.
And I do find these times on my mind,
Hard to define.
With a keeping of those,
Feeling these times have them boxed in.
Acceptance or not,
I'm not looking to get out of a box.
Too many have found themselves there,
To argue over space,
With little of it that to share.
I've said this before to say it again.
Those feeling trapped,
Like it exactly like that.
Fresh is the air,
One dares to breathe alone.
Revitalized is an atmosphere,
When the clearing of a sky,
Becomes recognized to the one who looks...
To discover the vastness of it to become known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fresh Blood
All the neighbours never see me
But they wonder why I walk around at night
He gets hungry - I go hunting
In the moonlit streets
For somebody that's right
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Showgirls, businessmen in suits in the midnight rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
In the paper, seems a florist
Found in Lincoln Park, died of some anemia
No one raped her, poor Doloris
Just detained her and drained her on the spot
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Old men, ladies of the night walking in the rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
No one calls and no one visits
We're like a couplet out of Desolation Row
We don't want them to want to know us
'Cause when they do, they get a little bit too close
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast is all I'm living for
And I crave it more and more
Bad girls, cops on the beat in the midnight rain
If they're out alone, are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh blood (Lyrics)
All the neighbours never see me
But they wonder why I walk around at night
he gets hungry - I go hunting
In the moonlit streets
For somebody that's right
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Showgirls, businessmen in suits in the midnight rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
In the paper, seems a florist
Found in Lincoln Park, died of some anemia
No one raped her, poor Doloris,
Just detained her and drained her on the spot
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Old men, ladies of the night walking in the rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
No one calls and no one visits
We're like a couplet out of Desolation Row
We don't want them to want to know us
'Cause when they do, they get a little bit too close
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast is all I'm living for
and I crave it more and more
Bad girls, cops on the beat in the midnight rain
If they're out alone, are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Locked
Children tattooed, pierced and studded, dreadlocked;
parents panicked, indecisive, deadlocked.
Mother to daughter: live as you must, if you must;
for just a bit longer, keep the door to your bed locked.
Son to father: teach me what you know,
but I won't agree to keep the door to my head locked.
Mother to father: where have you been, and where
have you kept your thoughts and all you might have said locked?
They'd come so far, and then she saw, in him,
the door to their life, their home, their daily bread locked.
One night in a fiery panic dream he ran
and found the door toward which he'd wildly fled locked.
Aging, but at long last ripe and ready,
she found the on-ramp to the road ahead locked.
They learned too late the cost of keeping that cellar
full of truths that could not be gainsaid locked.
The young return. Too many find the way back
to lives in the country for which they fought and bled locked.
Eric, old friend, as you try each door in the mind,
will you wake one day to find the heart instead locked?
poem by Eric Torgersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Welcomed Into the Family of Comprehension
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
What hand reaching out to shake,
Does not support that?
What prolonged heartbreak,
Would stay wallowing in sorrow?
To borrow an excuse,
Or a chance not to view agony?
Close up and into a tear stained face.
You should not want that reflecting...
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
No thing is detached,
That keeps an attraction from coming back.
Something is attached to that.
And seriously repeated.
When done,
The meaning of that purpose...
Should not go misunderstood!
Like selling one 'pot' who requested 'crack'.
An end should come to that.
When the mind gets that whacked out.
And chained to keep one remaining unchanged.
If it does because of ignorance declared delicious?
That can be forgiven, allowed and forgotten.
We all have had our cravings.
However...
If it does come from an intention reeking in deceit?
That can be considered a good cause,
Some some severe cussing out!
And some folks have earned their cussing out,
Those deserving it...
Rights!
And some folks can be sadistic about it!
You can not cuss them out enough!
There are a number of them to unionize.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
If it does come from an intention meant?
That can be shallow, obvious...
And an absence of common sense.
And an absence of it is more common than not!
If one ain't got it!
And an intention done lacking sense,
Wastes too much time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowledge Is There to Gain From This
It is difficult to escape the power held,
By those acknowledging a knowledge.
Once it is there and gets one wide awake...
All exits to get away from it,
Seem to be permanently closed.
There are no fences to jump,
Or keys to unlock gates.
Even the faking of not having it,
Is hard to do when ignorance approaches.
There have been cases,
In which attempts have been made...
To masquerade a wisdom,
For the sake of keeping peace.
Since all peace wishes to do is to live in it.
This can not be done.
It seems that ignorance becomes offended.
And conflicts begin!
The forces of ignorance struggle to win.
Leaving consequences for them to suffer!
And knowledge is there to gain from this.
But it is ignorance that is stubborn.
Wanting to prove without knowledge...
Alone it can exist in the spreading of its nonsense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sitting On A Fence
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees no sense in fighting
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees no sense at all
Sitting on a fence is a man who strokes his twenty beards
Sitting on a fence is a man who drink real ale
But the real problem with this man
Is he says he cant when he can
Hed rather not get his hands dirty
Hell still be there when hes thirty
I told myself to keep my mouth shut
But I still end up saying if and but
I lied to myself right from the start
And Ive just worked out that Im falling apart
Sitting on a fence
Sitting on a fence is a man who looks up to his guardian
Sitting on a fence is a man who swings from poll to poll
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees both sides of both sides
Sitting on a fence is a man who looks down on opinion
But the real problem with this man
Is he says he cant when he can
Hes rather not get his hands dirty
Hell still be there when he is thirty
I told myself to keep my mouth shut
But I still end up saying if and but
I lied to myself right from the start
And Ive just worked out that Im falling apart
Sitting on a fence
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seeking To Be Convinced
They will never find true happiness.
They have chosen to adorn their shells...
With visits welcomed by temptations.
And desperations...
Sought outside,
Instead of inside themselves!
Where this journey begins and ends.
But they spend their entire lives,
Seeking to be convinced!
And peering over the fence...
To compare whose grass,
Remains the greener!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1STP KLOSR ( One Step Closer )
Break...
I'm about to break!
I need room to breathe... (x3)
I cannot take this anymore
Saying everything Ive said before
All these words, they make no sense
I found bliss in ignorance
Less I hear, the less you say
But you'll find that out anyway
I find the answers aren't so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts, they make no sense
I found bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again (x5)
Just like before...
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
I'm about to break!
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
And I'm about to break!
Break!
These are the places where I can't feel
Torn from my body, my flesh it heals
During this ride we can cut up what we like
Waiting alone I can not resist
Feeling this hate I have never missed
Please someone give me a reason to rip off my face
Blood is a pouring and pouring and pouring..
Shut up when I'm talking to you!
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up when I'm talking to you!
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! (blood is pouring)
Shut up! Im about to break!
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
I'm about to break
Everything you say to me
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
And Im about to..
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to..
song performed by by Linkin Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Downhill Path
Life is never a flowering tree and a hurricane snatched some brutality away-
In one sense of the word freedom would rule and
In another, I can only see the rain. I foresee no future-
Only dandelions grow all summer long and
Leaves fall from the maple trees as autumn sets in.
I grew up in a home in which
I often believed I was living in purgatory-
Far away from stars in the sky, although overshadowed by clouds-
The sun always rose at dawn.
Today rain falls upon the essence of time and
I can feel the heat of the brushfires in hell below me
Searing the road I am trying to walk- all uphill with no direction-
I have yet to find my place in this world, in other words, reality-
It hardly matters because behind me exists a downhill path upon
Which I can turn back and walk back upon to the world of my thoughts;
Life has never been a flowering tree and although rain has been said to
Nourish trees and make them grow- fog is dense and I am locked inside
A chamber of madness where the only sounds I can hear and see are
Monstrous beings and voices that cannot be seen or heard by anyone else-
I would pick a bouquet of dandelions in the summer if I believed that
As a gift they could bring joy to somebody- but flowers die soon after they are
Plucked from their mother stems and when all of the flowers have been picked,
All I can see is rolling hills of grass, that is when cloud cover and fog
Become too impenetrable for me to foresee any destiny?
I often wonder if the stars so many speak of truly exist-
If they do so exist, they are many light years away-
Rain is pouring and I can hear the wind, as I walk down that hill where
The world of my fantasies awaits me- there I can find some freedom ruling.
Inside the world of my reverie I cannot fathom what the future holds-
This gives me hope that there is a chance I may someday sit peacefully
Beneath a flowering tree- at dusk looking up towards the sky seeing the stars, and
As past memories dissolve into nothingness and my future remains a mystery to me-
I shall just keep on watching the rain falling- but I am not without hope, as for
Some reason- I know that there is always an end to rain, I have created a world for myself,
And I am certain that the sun shall rise again- even after all of the flowers are gone…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Churning With Conflicts
There is an ignorance pervading,
Here to convince...
It's part of common sense.
An ignorance marketed and sold on all fronts,
To diminsh the mind with pointless events.
Intelligence offends,
The urban corridors.
Illiteracy is defended by the shallow!
And supported even more,
By those who have closed their doors...
To the poor we all pay for!
There is an acceptance in a decadence...
Defining a quality of life!
There is a blind eye turned on lessons learned.
And a pattern of strife...
Implemented by those with secrets
To keep this depleted way of life,
Churning with conflicts we are forced to fight!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Within Their Reach
Many living inside their boxes,
Peek.
Not realizing dust collects,
Under their feet.
Or there is fresh air outside,
To breathe.
Although they believe,
The sky above them...
Is only within their reach.
And they from within their boxes...
Have the right to dictate,
How high others should fly...
At what height and pace.
And which dreams those they choose,
Are approved to seek.
As well as the ones they can also deny.
Although they secretly wish,
Their insecurities would free them...
To experience such ambitions.
But fearing many living inside their boxes,
Peek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Euphorically Speaking
What strategies do I maintain,
To keep my peace of mind effortlessly kept?
Hmmm...
Good question!
I make sure praying all day is part of my routine.
You see...
I must beg forgiveness with a consistentness,
Continually.
If I sense I am going to be offended,
By redundancy that surrounds my steps.
I manage to somehow,
See those who do it stripped naked.
Yes!
I no longer feel then I tolerate my environment.
I look forward to seeing how much of it I can touch!
Euphorically speaking, of course.
And divorced I am from all disappointment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shriner's Park
I wonder what your doing
in the night out there
is a sad summer breath tangled in your hair
can you hear the lonely engines
screaming through the town
there's no where to run
when the darkness comes down
is there a song inside of you
that you tried to forget
like your fake id and your mom's cigarettes
does it take you back
is the vision intense
you and me in shriners park
trying to make some sense
you were just seventeen
but your laughter was mild
you liked my dreams you thought i was wild
is there a rythm in your step now
that reminds you of a dance
do you push it all away
cause you never took the chance
you'd sneak out your window
when i'd come for you
id be waiting in the street light on 8th Avenue
you'd slip into my car
we'd drive down past the fence
you and me in shriner's park
trying to make some sense
did you feel like you were crazy
when they sent you far away
did no one have the answers
when you hung your head to pray
you could not let yourself dream
never dare believe
you could ever be more
than you were born to be
do you lock up you house
like you locked up your past
if i were to call
could you free me at last
could you slip into my car
could we drive down past the fence
you and me in shriner's park
trying to make some sense
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Step Closer
I cannot take this anymore
I'm saying everything I've said before
All these words they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Less I hear the less you'll say
But you'll find that out anyway
Just like before...
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I find the answers aren't so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again
shut up when I'm talking to you
song performed by by Linkin Park from Hybrid Theory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out Of a Nothingness
Encouraged by a discouragement...
Seems to be the steps flights begin to take.
Like the discovery of a nothingness,
A non-entity ignored...
Sitting unexplored!
Until,
The realization that 'something' within it exists.
And a beginning one makes of it...
To create the break that forms its shape,
Taking place.
When one is told they are nothing...
Something 'clicks' within the mind.
And with that acknowledgement of a nothingness...
One embraces this to mold, shape and define!
Revealing a something out of a nothingness,
Where all of what 'is'...
Gets an assigned documented time of its find!
Showing a wealth of what is yet to be uncovered...
When possibilities like the life one knows,
Is given breath to breathe and eyes to probe...
A potential from a nothingness claimed,
To be named, linked and chained...
To all which had been suspended in space,
Before it too was exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On One Road
If people in places where jealousies exist,
Have no original thoughts of their own or common sense...
An attempt to dilute what is presented takes place.
With a making less effective,
Those benefits for all that could initiate...
A unified doing with a purpose that does not exclude.
Yet...
There are those who prefer,
A continued fast pace of the spreading of ignorance...
That eliminates an awakening to erase comprehension.
And ensuring minds confined are further left behind.
With a keeping of stereotypical images less difficult to find,
And easily found to adapt to definitions confusing the mission.
This is similar to establishing 'one' deity to worship,
But pleasing all who happen to see...
The 'pieces' instead of the whole.
And...
A way to worship this 'deity' differently to appease,
Those who will agree they have come to travel on one road.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ignorance Has Died
Why are they so gloomy?
Sitting and dressed as if for mourning?
'They have been there for a few days,
Sitting in a vigil.
Praying over the demise of ignorance.'
LOL...
You can not be serious.
Why don't you tell them,
Ignorance has yet to pass.
'Are you kidding?
Do you realize how long it took me,
To devise some kind of a plan...
That would keep them quiet.'
So how long you think they will sit like that?
'I don't know.
I paid some kids a few dollars,
If for two weeks they would walk up and down the streets...
Carrying school books and talking loudly,
About their Math and English classes.
I'm on a roll,
So I'm pulling out all stops to see what happens next.'
But it is still Summer.
All the kids are on vacation.
'When I told those children sitting in that room,
That 'ignorance' has died.
I was joking.
I thought they knew it was a joke.
They have been sitting like that for at least two days.'
And that's why you pay the other kids?
'Yeah.
Do you know how much I've spent on cellphones,
Video games, iPods and 3-D Tv's?
To get those kids nagging off my back.
And all I had to say...
Was 'ignorance' has died? '
I don't believe it!
'You?
I've been trying to find something totally ridiculous to say,
To get them to clean up their rooms.
I'm glad I don't drink or smoke crack.
I don't believe it either.
But you are my witness.'
And all you said was 'ignorance' has died?
'I swear to you.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Platitudinous Pleasures
I am not attached to platitudinous remarks.
As I reflect on particular abilities!
Really I am not.
Not on this journey I have embarked.
Do you honestly believe an ego is attached to this?
That some trite comments would give me a lift?
Do you realize how long this inside me has existed?
If you only knew...
More of a communication could have been pursued.
I have been on the pursuit of understanding...
For quite a few years.
Expressing these thoughts,
Is a gift to me God has chosen to give.
Inside of me still lives...
A craving to see others be and live as free!
I find that they are not.
No...
Especially after a glass or two of beer,
And/or wine...
With a shot of pepperment schnapps!
And perhaps...
A wee bit of blackberry brandy.
To give thoughts like these a start!
You see...
That's when a 'clarity' comes to visit me!
It seems only 'we' who know what this means...
Are connected to express,
A certain 'clearness' found to inspect.
Only to have those explain it as a creative process.
But not as a depthness coming from a heart,
That others feel free to critique...
And rip apart.
But not choosing to see or believe,
A bleeding of sorts is being done...
By those who neither find it a thrill or fun,
To have their guts poured to be ignored.
And evaluated as a tripping ego,
Wishing to be adored!
This is not that kind of discipline...
To have exposed on the surface,
Without 'something' being connected from deep within!
Who in their right minds,
Would spend their entire lives 'trying' to be defined.
If they did not already have definition?
That is not the journey...
Or the mission!
Or the condition of purpose meant.
Like the sipping of schnapps that are peppermint.
With a twist of lemon and maybe lime to add scent.
And losing an effectiveness earlier sent.
Now...
If that was known,
None of this would be necessary!
Or revealed as a gift...
Given to achieve 'something' believed.
Would it?
No need to respond.
I can handle this!
Could it be...
Just for useless platitudinous pleasures to receive?
And an overglorified ambition,
To mentally tease readers?
I think not!
Anyone who can make some kind of mind attachment...
To this rambling inebriated nonsense,
In which I am in no condition to repeat...
Is welcomed to the last of my brandy.
Sharing is one of my greatest talents.
And for that,
I seek no applause!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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