Ambiance
Excited I glowed...
When with my uncles and aunts.
Feeling such a radiance,
In a sheltered ambiance.
When I became older...
My ties with them were cut!
As children we had nicknames then...
But as we grew we gave them up!
I long to be called, 'Bighead' again!
And running through the Maple trees,
Carefree and laughing with them!
Some of them have passed away.
Like my grandparents; mom and dad!
And yet that ambiance I remember...
Seems to sink like racing sand so fast.
With nothing to hold onto or grasp!
As my time passes quicker...
In this swift shifting hourglass!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Still With Them
I AM STILL WITH THEM
I am still with them
My parents and grandparents
My brother, uncles and aunts
The friends who have died-
I am still with them
I will never let them go
They come to my mind and heart
Many different times of each day
I miss and love them
I pray for them
I am still with them
And will be
So long as I have a mind and heart
That still works.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Fast Buck Freddie
He said hold a dollar bill up to the mirror
And Ill show you something funny
Its only a fast buck, but
Its so hard to make that kind of money.
Now its hard to get serious when the joker
Is laughing
And by now the joker is wild
Its hard to keep laughing when a rich mans
Reflection
Looks like a gun thats gonna smile
Whats going on, I ask you
Whats going on, can you see?
Whats going on, I ask you and
Whos coming on, is it you or me?
Coming on while its still soft and warm
Burn it dry before the fiery storm
Sing it now while you still have a song
Grab on now while youre still feeling strong.
How long, how long would you like it
How long, how long will it be
How long, how long can we take it?
How long before we take it back, you and me
Think fast.
I was thinking that I should be singing along
Think fast I think hes coming thru
Think fast, he thinks hes running you
I was thinking that I should be singing along
Think fast, he thinks hes coming in
Think fast, I think hes wearing thin
I was thinking that I should be singing along
Think fast, hes taking all your time
Think fast, you know hes out of line
But who cares, you know you can, you will, you
Know you can.
Sing it now while you still
Sing it now while you still
Sing it now while you still have a song.
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman threads
Maternal aunts over maternal uncles,
Paternal aunts over paternal uncles,
Sisters over brothers command more affinity.
Relation threads through women routs
13.05.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Poopey PooPoo
My grandmother,
Was not into calling her children
By nicknames.
In fact she once said to my sister...
'I gave my children the names they have!
Each was given with a special meaning.
To identify and dignify that which has been given.'
I often wondered...
Had my sister and I been,
The only ones listening?
With comprehension?
Over the years...
It just appears that way!
Today...
Grown folks are known better by their nicknames.
Than those names given.
Poopey PooPoo. BeBop. Slice and Dice...
BooBoo and Drooper!
What 'energies' have they called upon themselves?
And their children have no idea who their parents are.
Their real names.
Or their purposes.
I remembered when I began calling myself Lawrence...
My birth name.
Lawrence, Junior in fact.
Named after my father.
We were both called Larry at one time.
I decided I would become Lawrence S.
After discovering on my father's birth certificate,
His name was listed as Lawrence A.
And I wanted to be 'AS' much as Lawrence as possible!
Can you guess...
I am between poeticness.
As I share a bit of 'personal-ness'.
Folks got upset!
Guess who smiled?
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar.
She was very strong and dynamic.
She was pleased to know I was daring!
And the leaves upon the trees,
Begin to bloom in Spring.
As I reminisce those things I miss.
Taking trips back through time.
Those things impressed upon my mind.
And finding me feeling blessed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Distance
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do you remember
How you were gonna stay free?
But they had plans for you
And things to do
The same thing goes for me
Well well I never
Saw it coming to me
But when I turned around
To look at you
It was all that I could do
To see the distance
Everybody wants to run
And I'm no different
Feeling like the only one
In the beginning
Everything was so close
And it seemed that everywhere you go
Everybody knows
You don't remember
What you wanted to be
Well they went round the class
And you were last
The clock was fast
So no one asked
To see the distance
Everybody wants to run
And I'm no different
Feeling like the only one
Well how long can you run?
How far and what for?
How far will you run
To get whatever you're after
Year after year after year
Well I've been looking
But I still can't see
How we get from a to b to c
And feel like we should be
Well I've been running
But I've been running around
Now there's nothing left for me to do
But sit around and see the view
And see the distance
Everybody wants to run
And I'm no different
Feeling like the only one
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aunts and Uncles
Ladies and gentlemen...
My daddy Lawrence, Sr.
Is the eldest of twenty-one.
YES...21!
Born to Clara and Charles Pertillar.
And I remember the times
We would have great fun!
There is:
Jesse
Charles (Bey) , Jr.
Catherine
Clara, Jr.
Albert
Edward
Donald
Julius
Is abel
Emily
Edna Mae
Cecil
Leola Jean
Sandra
Gayhall
Overton
Virginia
Lorraine
And...
Anna
'Hey...
That's only 19!
Did you miss anyone,
In between? '
Well...
My grandmother said she had 21.
And my grandfather is proud...
He even remembered the names of everyone!
And I soon will be 61 myself.
Feeling blessed,
I was produced from this nest!
And we 'all' had nicknames too.
Some of us had more than one!
Many of us had quite a few.
And grandma made sure,
She fed her 'crew'!
Dedicated:
To my wonderful Aunts and Uncles.
Love you...nephew 'Larry'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until It Has Become Clear
Whenever your souls reside,
You are not forgeotten.
I keep you here,
Inside my heart.
Father and mother.
Son, grandparents and good friends.
Aunts and uncles...
Who have passed on to begin,
An existence in eternity that never ends!
And I am so blessed,
To have gotten you all.
In my life enriched...
By your memories I recall.
Sometimes I admit,
There are times I sit in sadness.
Wishing I could relive...
Those times together,
Emotions shared where there to give.
Wherever your sould reside,
You are not forgotten.
You will always be near and dear...
Until it has become crystal clear,
We are all back together again!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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She Walks Her Talk
Ruth is a nice woman
she does not climb the ladder
the ladder climbs for her
i remember how the ladder puts
her feet on the step
and the ladder keeps on carrying
her to the top
so that she can see what is wrong
with the plain
and she does what she is supposed to
do
trimming the stars
dimming the heavens sometimes
to create the ambiance of
an accommodation
she does what the gods tell her to do
down to the last detail
sacrificing sometimes what she thinks
is right from her own human perception
the trees love her
and so do the sand and grass
i am telling you i love the woman
you know it well
she walks her talk.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Might Find Me a Disappointment
You might find me a disappointment.
I'm one who could care less,
About gossip and that mess.
And people with titles...
I don't put on pedestals.
Being 'real' is difficult enough.
Without having to be burdened.
I got 'me' back!
Off track and spinning wheels'
Once done.
Runninf in fear of reality.
And feeling pressure to be measured...
Against a society bleeding,
Common sense.
You might find me a disappointment.
I question what I don't understand.
And on my own two feet I stand.
I remember my Uncle Julius,
Holding my arms up as I ran down a hill.
He was teaching me how to walk.
It was behind where my grandparents,
And my other aunts and uncles lived.
That was in Bellevue Square.
Nine months old I was.
It's like this...
You might find me a disappointment.
And I live a life already having experienced them.
I'm sure there will be some regrets made,
As I lay more footsteps down.
So don't be disappointed if I accept it.
And keep steppin'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Hourglass
The Hourglass
By: Adam M. Snow
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
For time will soon cease and end in fear;
for they would come and disappear.
The hourglass falls at the end;
for there will be no one left to befriend.
When the last sand falls;
the writings will be shown on the walls.
The hourglass shown thy pain;
for the light will soon rain.
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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I Get Excited
(tennant/lowe)
--------------
(excited)
(excited)
(excited excited excited excited)
(excited excited excited excited)
(i get excited)
(i get excited)
We're both in the gutter, that's no surprise
What does it matter, when i look in your eyes?
We've lost all our money, we're thrown out of bars
We're lying in the gutter, but we're looking at the stars
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I hear the sound of the subway, the sigh of the heat
The click of the visitors' heels on the street
The rattle of the taxi, the scream of the cars
The clatter of the dustbin and the beat of my heart
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why
(excited excited excited excited)
(excited excited excited excited)
You're in my soul
My body moves to your control
Baby, i've been thinking about you
All night long, and the neighbours are talking
I don't know why, i don't know why (excited) (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why
(excited) (i get excited)
We're both in the gutter, that's no surprise
What does it matter, when i look in your eyes?
We've lost all our money, we're thrown out of bars
We're lying in the gutter, but we're looking at the stars
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why
(excited excited excited excited)
(excited excited excited excited)
(ooooooooh)
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I get excited, you get excited too (excited) (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why (i get excited)
I don't know why, i don't know why (i get excited)
I get excited, you get excited too
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories of Summers Spent
For Faizil
I remember the sand dunes of Aniston
Eastwards on the south of the Western Cape coast
The blue skies hanging over
Illuminated by the burning sun
Within the sand dunes concealed
Lies the bones of shipwrecked sailors of yesteryear
Contrast of desert and ocean
Like two dimension woven in one
Dwarfed by the sands of time
I remember how we raced to the top of the dunes
Breathless without thought
Just the absolute carefree bliss of being children
The race down was a running and a tumbling
Our summers spent camping at Arniston
When finally at the bottom, we would lay exhausted
Panting, catching our breath
poem by Persian Khushi
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Hour Glass Man
Make the grade and fail the class
take the test and do your best
watch you burn you life away
buried in the hourglass
you can open up your mind
everybody's teaching you
trying to tell you what to do
if you listen you will find
that you can open up your mind
you can open up your mind
and I just can't wait for another day
and I can't sleep cause I'm to afraid
and I don't know where I'm gawn end up next
the hourglass man
has gone away
the hourglass man he's in the sand he's in the sand yeah
the hourglass man is buried in the hourglass
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd from Abrasive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Sonnet 154 Your Sweetness Calls To Me As Of Honey
Your sweetness calls to me as of honey,
Rightfully speaking for a thousand bees,
With ambiance that floral scents convey,
Or else, breeze, purified by leaves of trees;
As water gushing from rocks, crystal clear,
Having passed through grains, fine, of layered sand,
As gem from cutter's stone, priceless, so dear,
As coat of wool, virgin on every strand;
You could have thorns, inherent on a rose,
As with ants in fruits, that sweetness is proved,
But every night, as labors draw to close,
You are the thought to which my dreams have grooved;
......In clearest skies where countless stars abide,
......Your brightness stands out from the rest with pride.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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And We Shall Not Get Excited
And we shall not get excited. Because a translator
May not get excited. Calmly, we shall pass on
Words from man to son, from one tongue
To others' lips, un-
Knowingly, like a father who passes on
The features of his dead father's face
To his son, and he himself is like neither of them. Merely a mediator.
We shall remember the things we held in our hands
That slipped out.
What I have in my possesion and what I do not have in my possession.
We must not get excited.
Calls and their callers drowned. Or, my beloved
Gave me a few words before she left,
To bring up for her.
And no more shall we tell what we were told
To other tellers. Silence as admission. We must not
Get excited.
Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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The Grandad
I look over to my son laughing playing not a care,
Comes running when hurt or scared
running to me
But as time goes by I start to notice
His son running laughing not a care
Comes running to his dad my son when hurt or scared
into those same arms which were once wrapped around my legs
with full might which gave the feeling of father
Young working respected
But when i see that young boy i feel...
old useless the grandad
THE GRANDAD
poem by Donal Moran
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Who Is There Left to Remember?
WHO IS THERE LEFT TO REMEMBER?
Who is there left to remember?
My parents, my brother, all my aunts and uncles gone-
My sister in another world.
In our imagination and prayers
The sky opens and souls enter
Singing praise
Our loved ones are saved forever.
But on the ground
Where we are now
All that they have been-
Who is there left to remember
The lives the world we had?
I alone am left to remember
And I alone will never remember enough.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Burial in the Snow
How well do I remember
Of a burial in the snow,
On a winter's evening
Some fifteen years ago;
The ground was covered over
With the beautiful crystal snow,
And it glistened in the moonlight,
Like diamonds all aglow.
It was a pleasant evening,
That merry Christmas eve;
And I never can forget, how
The frost hung on the tree.
The moon was shining clearly,
And the sleigh-bells rang so sweet;
Ah, it was splendid sleighing,
The snow was two feet deep.
My grandparents were living
Some two miles then away,
My parents went to see them,
To spend the holiday.
I went with my kind parents,
For the evening was sublime,
To see dear aunts and uncles,
And have a merry time,
I saw the beaming faces
Of my grandparents dear,
As they met us on the door-step,
With welcome words of cheer.
In fancy I can see them
As in the days of yore,
When they welcome home their children
Through the old familiar door.
The banquet board that evening,
Was filled with cake and wine,
Delicious fruits and oysters
That came from foreign clime.
It was a merry party
That met once more to roam,
My grandparents were happy,
Their children were all home.
Grandpapa said, "dear children,
Lay the tea things aside,
And some of you get ready
To take a pleasant ride.
The moon is shining clearly,
The evening is sublime,
O'er the crystal snow we'll glide,
And have a jolly time."
Hats and cloaks were soon put on,
By those who wish to go,
They were wrapped up snug and warm,
For a sleigh ride o'er the snow.
Their hearts were light and gleeful,
They rode away with ease,
I never can forget them,
Or that merry Christmas eve.
On that beautiful evening,
They rode five miles away,
O'er hills, and dales, and frozen snow,
With prospects bright and gay.
They came to their journey's end,
And soon were homeward bound,
A more joyous, happy band
Was nowhere to be found,
The merry sleigh bells ringing
Out on the midnight air,
And merry voices singing
All "right side up with care! "
The horses were high-spirited,
They ran away, and lo!
Broke loose from the sleigh, and left
It buried in the snow.
The people of that party
Lay scattered all around,
Some were frightened, others laughed,
To think it happened so,
That the end of their sleigh ride
Was a burial in the snow.
Yet they were gay and happy,
The bright moon o'er them shone,
And laughing o'er their sleigh ride,
They all went trudging home.
Some of those friends are dead and gone,
That met in that old home,
And never will we meet again,
Around that dear hearth stone.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Reasons For My Depression
REASONS FOR MY DEPRESSION
I know this weight this inertia
I know this sense of being drawn down
I know this feeling that nothing can be done
That I can do nothing
I know this sense of threat
A war might come and the enemy missiles make our cities burn
My loved ones might be in danger
I know this fear of being abandoned
Of our people facing another disaster
Wandering in homelessness
I know this feeling of being able to go nowhere
I know this feeling of never being able to get out of it
I know the tiredness and the indifference
I know my sense that I have wasted my life and work is not worth anything
The taxman is coming
The money is running out
There are more unanticipated expenses
When I just do not have it
I have already spent more this month than I should have
My clothes are old and worn
So much about me is so shabby
I do not like other parents and grandparents
Have the money to really be of help
There are so many unfixed broken things in the house
That I should have fixed long ago
I have chronic pain now as never before
The blood pressure the prostate
Will I ever get out of it? I have not been able to yet
I have so many health problems now
Is the skin discoloration cancer?
We may have a visitor who is lost himself and needs help
I do not know how to give
How much of my time will he take?
I do not have the patience for anyone or anything
Please don't bother me but I can't get out of this myself
My wife is disappointed with me
My wife is not that well and I worry about her health
I worry about my children so much I undermine their confidence
So many of our friends are sick and dying
I am already old and only getting older
The next stage is the walker the wheelchair
Will I be surprised and have a stroke
And become the worst kind of burden?
I remember my mother eight years in a wheelchair unable to speak,
We all die and I have not bought a gravesite yet
I am older than I ever pictured myself as being
So many hate us on the basis of their own bigotry stupidity ignorance
there are so many bad people in the world
there is so much hatred
there are so many reasons for despair
there is no end of reasons
I can go on and on and on
The question is not why I despair
But how do I manage most of the time not to?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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