A Suffering Endured Has Ended
After many years,
A suffering endured has ended.
And you expect my empathetic participation,
With yours?
I don't think so!
I managed to jump through hoops,
To become cured.
And you complain when it rains.
Or from the sight of it,
Inside the comfort of your shelter.
My healing had occurred when fully exposed.
With challenges and obstacles still to overcome.
Only God once allowed can undo what has been done!
And that I discovered after having my own one on one.
In a reality I will describe,
As not being scipted...
For my enjoyment nor for my fun.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Exceptions Made
And now...
The clean up!
Like none ever done.
Some will not be in it for the healing of it!
Many will sit in bitterness.
In divisions that they are accustomed.
They will not accept,
A participation without choice.
There is a clean up that is going to be done!
By everyone.
There will be no exceptions made!
All of those you see,
Looking from the windows,
Inside the house?
If they wish to eat and sleep in comfort...
They will work the fields,
And yield to discipline!
They, them, those and others...
Will sweep the dirt,
Everyone let collect.
'This' will become your reality!
'He will never be 'my' president! '
I doubt if that is a concern of his.
He prefers the title...
Chief Delegator!
What is his concern...?
Everyone will do their chores!
Complete assignments.
And 'earn' their right to complain.
Including you!
You see those obstacles?
Those hurdles to be jumped?
Those problems to be solved!
They are tremendous.
Embrace them!
Consider them yours!
The best way to get familiar...
I suggest?
Less protest.
This is the 'change' you can believe in!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You are the most beautiful
The beauty just for you,
I can't describe your beauty from inside and outside,
Your beauty made the people surprised on it,
Your beauty overcome on the beauty of moon,
Your beauty overcome on the beautiful nature,
I can't describe your beauty on the paper,
Because it's overcome to the world,
Because broken whole the rules,
Because made me busy,
In your eyes, check, lips, chest, , , etc,
Your beauty surpassed description,
Tell me how can I describe your beauty,
poem by Omar Khalid Hashim
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There IS Something About Living It
I know how life works.
There is something about living it,
Away from the sidelines in full participation...
That gives one the experience,
To speak on some matters with familiar authority.
I know how life works.
And from connecting 'that' which is observed,
To what's been heard to the ears...
Produces a clarity.
And reduces assumptions to be deduce from reality.
I know how life works.
There is something about living it,
Away from the sidelines in full participation...
That gives one the experience,
To speak on some matters with familiar authority.
And when people say they will do one thing,
But actually do another as was intended to do.
Or those who claim actions done to them happened,
But never occurred as they describe?
They know little about how life works.
And who from a distance has them observed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Childlike Clubhouse Mentality
Let me set the record straight,
Before some other novice initiates...
Another round of ignorance,
For immature fools to immulate.
There are those who enjoy what they do.
They are driven by an appetite,
To walk on a path and see their way through.
Few on a mission are not seeking competition.
There are those who recognize challenges.
Not challengers but challenges...
With the jumping over hurdles,
And unforeseen obstacles too!
Many have matured beyond,
That childlike clubhouse mentality.
Many have been healed and cured,
From comments dosed in created insensitivities.
And yet there are some who will never overcome,
Wanting to expose their youthful stupidities.
And seek they do...
To play the role of kids in school.
Let me set the record straight,
Before some other novice initiates...
Another round of ignorance,
For immature fools to immulate.
Grow up!
Or...
Get out of the way of those who are,
Adults who have had enough of your stuff!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Cries For The Little Girl? (A Ballad For The Abused)
Who cries for the little girl, lost and all alone?
Who for the little girl, now fully-grown?
Who mourns for the little girl, not allowed to be one?
Who grieves for the little girl, whose pain is never done?
Who comforts the little girl, left to comfort her Sister?
Who consoles the other two, who have really missed her?
Who speaks for the little girl, left without a voice?
Who chooses for the little girl, never given a choice?
For these little girls, there is naught I would not do
To lessen the torment that they have so bravely fought through.
It is I, who cries when empathetic tears need be shed;
It is I, who apologizes for a 'wrong', long-since dead;
It is I, who would have ended the pain-had I only known-
So the little girls left as such, were never lost and all alone!
*Inspired by the poem: Who Cries For The Little Boy? , from the movie: Antwone Fisher
-Maurice Harris,19 February 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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I might go on discussing this subject at great length, but after all is said, done, and written, my own book of experiences will best show what these obstacles are, and how I managed to overcome them to some extent.
quote by Major Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under The Safety Net Of Your Love
I was 6 years old when it occurred to me,
I was 10 years old when it occurred to me,
I was 12 years old when it occurred to me,
I was 20 years old when it occurred to me,
And like my other expereinces in life!
But, thkis whole story is all about my life;
And today, i am living under the safety net of your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I May Play Aound With My Own Gifts
I remember once,
Of having the nature of giving.
And enthusiastic,
By the mere participation...
In the doing of it.
But when I heard from others' lips,
I should not expect most...
To feel that same way.
And there I was in heated sweat...
With the giving of myself,
Assisting them?
With the expanding,
Of their expressed creativeness.
Someone wasn't getting what I had attempted,
To enlist.
Someone attempted to take my experiences,
And make a mockery of it.
And when I discovered being looked upon,
As a fool for doing this! ?
There were no long goodbyes with sighs.
My eyes I placed on an exit.
And I through that exit I went quick.
I may play aound with my own gifts.
But for others to do it?
That's not allowed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Im Only Happy When It Rains
Im only happy when it rains
Im only happy when its complicated
And though I know you cant appreciate it
Im only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
Im only happy when it rains
I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didnt accidentally tell you that
Im only happy when it rains
Youll get the message by the time Im through
When I complain about me and you
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down
You can keep me company
As long as you dont care
Im only happy when it rains
You wanna hear about my new obsession?
Im riding high upon a deep depression
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me ...
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Word “Wisdom”
Words can not construe apt wisdom
For that amount of pain, those suffered feelings.
Inside me, the very inner being, there is gladdening,
More than that not, just too much emotion.
Felt by some, known as if, the acts of our age
Are managed in their entirety, fully forming since daybreak.
A night shall pass, forcing mind and body into darkness,
Congratulating us afterwards, as the daylight shows.
May words and spells undo themselves somehow,
Since somehow the meaning assigned to them is inapt.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Cakewalk
I admit my life has been a cakewalk.
And every beating I've endured,
That has scraped my knees...
As I fell to awaiting pavement,
And knocking my head against obstacles...
I can say today,
After experiencing the heat of it...
And tasting every bit of the mixture made,
I have grown to enjoy in my progressing years...
The addition of the delicious frosting I did not expect.
After developing my patience and eliminating regrets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Has Been Distorted
Don't 'ask' that your sorrows be removed from you.
Demand that they be removed!
Don't look at your obstacles as if they are impossible.
Remove them from your mind.
Or they will stay.
Believing you want it that way!
If you believe you are here to suffer...
Why complain about it.
As if this was a gift from God.
You 'are' a gift from God!
You are.
You are a part of the Oneness God is!
The Kingdom that is His 'is' yours!
You've been told this.
Don't 'ask' that your sorrows be removed from you.
Demand that they be removed!
Don't look at your obstacles as if they are impossible.
Remove them from your mind.
Or they will stay.
Believing you want it that way!
If you believe you are here to suffer...
Why complain about it.
As if this was a gift from God.
And this is not God's wish!
Somewhere, somehow in your mind...
This has been distorted.
You allowed your faith to be aborted!
The Earth, Moon and Sun...
All belong to the One.
How and 'why' and WHEN...
Did you allow your separateness to begin?
If you believe you are here to suffer...
Why complain about it.
As if this was a gift from God.
What else in your life is faked?
If you say you love God...
Why can't you accept God as your Lover?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thawed Out Meat Left to Sit
I've got to jump out of this box,
And detox.
Without stopping!
As I dropp those things I like a lot!
To explore something new.
That for me would be eye popping.
I've got to jump out of this box,
And detox.
From a groping overdose,
I've allowed to turn to slop!
Comfort zones I must leave alone.
With values condoned...
Rusting into a dust.
I must seek out what I have not!
I must have forgotten...
Thawed out meat left to sit,
Can become rancid.
Offensive!
Leaving a taste on tongues,
Not accustomed to what is decisively rotten!
I've got to jump out of this box.
And detox.
From a groping overdose,
I've allowed to turn to slop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only Happy Whem It Rains
Im only happy when it rains
Im only happy when its complicated
And though I know you cant appreciate it Im only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad sad songs
Im only happy when it rains
I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didnt accidentally tell you that
Im only happy when it rains
Youll get the message by the time Im through when I complain about me and you
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
You can keep me company as long as you dont care
Im only happy when it rains
You wanna hear about my new obsession
Im riding high upon a deep depression
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under Scorned and Surprised Prying Eyes
For years what was done,
Was done in their faces.
All of it done that way.
Like branches extended from a tree...
With each leaf examined.
Each look was allowed a closeup.
Every annoying touch was endured.
Some even snatched twigs off to use...
To mock and abuse the growth.
In hopes the wounds would scar!
And so they did,
Scar!
With bitter pain felt,
And buried underneath thick skin!
The cries were kept within!
And at the end of sacrifices known...
A greatness reaped from sorrows sewn,
Was revealed to show a brilliant luster!
Glowing from a light,
Illuminating bright from inside.
Sharing a radiance denied yet sparkling.
But still,
Unbelieved!
And what was done...
Had occurred under,
Scorned and surprised prying eyes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blue Moon
There’ll be a blue moon on the last day
of two-thousand-nine. The fast day
that preceded it, Asarah
B’Tevet acting as a thorough
preparation for it revel-
ation, giving us a devil-
may-care attitude to what
we might expect next year, or not
expect, depending if the moon
makes us as blue as it as soon
as New Year which will surely wane
like all years of which we complain.
Revelers ringing in 2010 will be treated to a so-called blue moon. According to popular definition, a blue moon is the second full moon in a month. But don't expect it to be blue — the name has nothing to do with the color of our closest celestial neighbor. A full moon occurred on Dec.2. It will appear again on Thursday in time for the New Year's countdown.
12/29/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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A Quest to Undo Obstacles
If those faced with daily challenges,
Had their lives made easier...
Their acquired gifts and talents,
Would become less impressive.
And a quest to undo obstacles,
Would be left as they rested.
And a faith that had been tested,
To waste and upset...
The best of what The Creator expects,
Would not please.
Since The Almighty despises mediocrity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Plenty
memories pour out like
the rains of july
you are drenched
fully wet
you stay put and feel the cold
you do not run away for shelter
cars are blowing their horns
you are in the middle of the traffic
people look at you
with horror
do not expect pity
or concern
there is no sympathy available in the middle
of a very busy road in the city
there is nothing that stays focused on you
on a heavy downpour
memories keep falling
and you are carried away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mamunia
Mamunia mamunia mamunia
Oh oh oh
Mamunia mamunia oh oh oh oh
The rain comes falling from the sky,
To fill the stream that fills the sea
And thats where life began for you and me
So the next time you see rain it aint bad,
Dont complain it rains for you,
The next time you see l.a. rainclouds,
Dont complain it rains for you and me
Mamunia...
It might have been a bright blue day
But rainclouds had to come this way
Theyre watering everything that they can see.
A seed is waiting in the earth
For rain to come and give him free,
So the next time you see l.a. rainclouds
Dont complain, it rains for you.
So lay down your umbrellas
Strip off your plastic macs.
Youve never felt the rain my friend,
Till youve felt it running down your back
So the next time you see rain, it aint bad
Dont complain, it rains for you.
The next time you see l.a. rainclouds
Dont complain it rains for you and me.
Mamunia...
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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