Blinded By The Kicking Up of Dust
You seek confirmation for yesterday's visions.
With an assistance sought,
For clarity and comprehension.
And the speed at which things change,
Has a need for passengers riding...
Who are more receptive.
That is why you remain out of touch.
You are hesitating to wait to aboard,
Something much slower than a bus.
And those days have long been gone.
You sought no rush!
Now you find you are blinded...
By the kicking up of dust.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
With Minted Sweeteners
When your booty banked has tanked,
Will you first think to give thanks?
Or will you think of breaking ranks...
Upon this dawning.
Will you be a grumpy crank?
Wishing for someone to spank.
Or will you decide to think,
This a warning?
Your pennies now make less cents.
Even if condensed to lint.
But they're kept as sentiments,
Like worthless pawnings.
But somehow you kept your faith,
A return to waste would take...
A slower pace believed?
Don't grieve!
How about a ha ha,
He he
Ho ho hum out to you?
Would you like that spread on cheese?
With a cup of tea with that too?
Since the ooo ooo
Of your boo hoo days are here.
And everything about them,
Neared.
But you sought clarity!
How about a ha ha,
He he
Ho ho hum out to you?
Would you like that spread on cheese?
With a cup of tea with that too?
Since the ooo ooo
Of your boo hoo days are here.
And everything about them,
Neared.
But you sought clarity!
With minted sweeteners.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: God Decides Our Earthly-life
I sought a dollar, got a penny just;
I sought a penny, found dollar instead;
I sought a lover, got a load of lust;
I sought but lust yet, got a soul to wed.
The things we seek, don't happen in our time;
The things we search are found neither our way;
The things we see, we cannot always mime;
The things we want, we get some other day.
Man's labour long and plans evade fruition;
God's blessings come just like a waterfall;
The ways of God defies any diction;
He cares for all creatures mighty and small.
Our patience gives us success or defeat,
A man who's blest can walk life-time bare-feet.
poem by John Celes
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Souvenirs
Meander without leaving a trail
Like how you cry without a wail
They come, they go, the beacons
Of this silently burdened quarters
Like how you shall when you seek,
When you are sought,
When you are found;
The tourists who wander and
The streetlamps at every dusk
They are the only things that pass
But still remains the same.
So, come and be sought,
So, come and seek,
And pick up the little souvenirs
Of the best pilfered time
But never leave one
Not even the memory
Of your taillights' waning.
It had been too good
To remain the same
Perhaps heaven lies within
The tranquility of beckoning
So tonight I shall wager
For the heaven in these souvenirs.
poem by Norman Santos
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Enclosed Within
So out of touch and numbed by bling,
Are those attached...
To images, symbols and material things.
And,
On the other side of a widening mind divide.
Sliding under what is believed,
Protective cloud cover.
It is as if exits have been closed.
And those who have escaped towards the light...
Can see clearly,
Without assistance or direction needed.
While those closed within,
Can not detect their points of view...
Continuing to dim.
There are too many of them,
Dancing in neglect and sweating expectedly...
In the corners of chosen dark shadows.
And they remain...
So out of touch.
And decisively free,
From reality.
A choice many sought successfully to seek.
With a love for scriptured darkness bought.
And preached with a delivery to suit acquired tastes.
So out of touch,
And numbed by bling.
Sliding,
Without denial...
Under what is believed,
Protective cloud cover.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Discernment
once it was the clarity that i sought
and there was none and all i had is doubt
once i was sure of myself
and believed it to be so such stuff that is stiff
until i became a river of stool
and everything in there is foul
and i slept and i wake up and i thought
about what are those that landed in my spout
perhaps clarity is not what must be sought
neither doubt
for who wants doubt to rule our lives
as though we do not live in a world of lies
upon some layers of
historical rocks and socks?
and then i simply look around me
simply describing what comes and what passes on a day
a bus loading passengers
hands waiving gears
a very calm sea
a wharf where boats are free
a house by the mountain
fireflies feasting on the rain
a tree crown at night
beside a river up tight
sounds of owls and
ghouls
a rain that starts
pouring
on the roof of the house
listening
simply listening
much about nothing
about these things
as they are
disregarding
who we are
every moment is an act to be done
spic and span
every hour
an spectator
every second simply
passing line
beyond the edge
of a clean page
i do not think for the future now
in the same manner that i let the past sleep like it were dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Recaptured
Recaptured,
From desires of wanting favorite seasons...
To remain unchanged.
Recaptured,
From seeking things to bring me happiness...
To last forever.
Realizing that would be a long wait,
Between each whim.
As boredom began to suddenly creep in.
Recaptured,
From beliefs that winning anything,
Brought a peace of mind.
When peace of any kind,
Is determined and defined...
By the one who finds it,
Without conditions sought.
Recaptured,
From thoughts that good sex...
Had to involve someone else.
Well...
I am recuperating,
From years spent in self contained confinement.
We all adapt to our own entrapments.
Nothing is perfect.
And besides...
My recovery may be a slower process than others.
And I am in no hurry,
To begin interviews with anyone...
Who may qualify to satisfy my needs.
Some abilities acquired,
Never leave one's memory.
And I am more than prepared,
To take matters into my own hands...
To rekindle anything that may have laid dormant,
From lack of internal activity.
I do have my memories.
And all of them did not end,
With gratifying pleasantries.
I've been recaptured!
Not retooled.
Note:
'Thank you, Herbert, for suggesting 'sought'.
That really strengthened the stanza,
and overall composition.'
Who is Herbert?
Why that is Mr. Herbert Nehrlich.
Johannesburg, South Africa. lol
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where Have I Been?
'Where have you been? '
Where have I been?
Giving myself the opportunity to grow.
Reflecting.
Dissecting.
And self examining.
With the doing of those things,
That will bring an understanding.
Knowledge obtained,
Needs the support from others...
For more of it to be gained.
And I embrace those,
Who have come face to face with change.
Those who comprehend,
Nothing accepted today will remain the same.
Where have I been?
Giving myself the opportunity to grow.
And 'that' which isn't doing it...
I have to let it go!
Without debate or loss of patience.
I am reaching for a seeking of clarity.
I've sought Sun.
I am not one comfortable in hiding...
When those cloudy days come,
To delight in disguise.
My vision needs to be freed of fog or smog.
Where have I been?
Giving myself the opportunity to grow.
And preparing for all kinds of weather.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Spirit of Elevation
What is it you wish...
You claim is there you wait for?
Hop aboard,
The Spirit of Elevation.
Separate yourself,
From those isolation days.
Get rid of devastating implementations.
Planted to erase,
The best of your well being...
Inside that's craved!
Hop aboard,
The Spirit of Elevation.
Replace your visions of limitation.
Remove any traces of it that sits.
To keep you in the midst of feared conflicts!
Get rid of it!
There is nothing to value,
To maintain such a grip.
Get rid of it!
Get rid of it!
There is nothing of it that benefits!
Get rid of it!
Get rid of it!
And delight in a higher consciousness.
Hop aboard,
The Spirit of Elevation.
Replace your visions of limitation.
Remove any traces of it that sits.
To keep you in the midst of feared conflicts!
Get rid of it!
There is nothing to value,
To maintain such a grip.
Get rid of it!
Get rid of it!
There is nothing of it that benefits!
Get rid of it!
Get rid of it!
And delight in a higher consciousness.
What is it you wish...
You claim is there you wait for?
Hop aboard,
The Spirit of Elevation.
Separate yourself,
From those isolation days.
Get rid of devastating implementations.
Planted to erase,
The best of your well being...
Inside that's craved!
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of better days.
Hop aboard...
The Spirit of Elevation!
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of better days.
You're more deserving of what has been served...
Get up the nerve.
Who's more deserving?
You're more deserving of better days.
Yes...
You're more deserving of better days.
Yes...
You're more deserving of better days.
Yes...
You're more deserving of better days.
YES
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today is better than Yesterday
Yesterday
Yesterday, I was running with to feet
Yesterday, I was playing with kids
Yesterday, I was kicking the ball
Yesterday, I had it all, all was mine.
Yesterday, I was growing well,
Yesterday, I had it all undercover
Yesterday was my day
Yesterday, my days were
Yesterday, I had a lover, ‘true lover’
Yesterday, promises were made
Yesterday, promises were not kept
Yesterday, I was happy.
Yesterday, I gave him everything
Yesterday, I sacrificed everything
Yesterday, I was a fool
Yesterday, I was dying
Today
Today, I am lying in bed
Today, I am watching hopeless kids
Today, I can hardly move
Today, everything is falling
Today, I am dying in bed
Today, it is all wrong
Today, is not my day
Today, my days are not
Today, I have no one
Today, promises are broken
Today, promises are not
Today, I have no hope
Today, I long for myself
Today, I cry over spilled milk
Today, I am wise
Today, I live
Whatever happened yesterday is not
Whatever was, is not
Whatever was broken can be fixed
Whatever wound are, can be healed
Just need the Perfect Healer
Jesus I know you are! ! !
poem by Sbonelo C Ngcobo
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Cant Wait
Ive been on this road a long time
Ive been travellin for days
But it seems Im getting nowhere
I just cant find my way
Ive been following directions
But they must be out of date
And I cant, and I cant, and I cant, no I cant
Decide which road to take
See Ive got to find my baby
Cause we need to work things out
Ive got to see that woman
I cannot do without her!
You know I cant wait, cant wait another moment
I cant wait, I cant wait another heartbeat
No I cant wait, cant wait another moment
I couldnt wait another heartbeat
I cant wait until midnight
And the nights go on forever
These days I get no sleep
And I miss her more than ever
Inside where love runs deep
Oh I know Im going to find her
Cause Im following this star
And I cant, and I cant, no I cant turn back
Oh lord, Ive come so far
And Ill know shell whisper in my ear
bout all the things Ive missed
Shes got that way about her now
I never could resist
And now I cant wait, cant wait another moment
No I cant wait, I cant wait another heartbeat
I cant wait, cant wait another moment
I couldnt wait another heartbeat
I cant wait until midnight
No I cant wait
I cant wait another moment
I couldnt wait another heartbeat
I cant wait until the midnight
Now I cant wait
No no no cant wait
No no no
Cant wait
No no no
Cant wait
(repeat and fade out)
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burdened By Delusions
And they arrived at their destination,
Avoiding a self examination...
All thought best not to seek.
Feelings of inferiority,
Made them feel weak.
Leaving them where they chose to be...
Surrounded by a rejection,
With an absence of comprehension none sought.
All claim no one professed to be blindfolded.
But 'what' and 'who' delivered them,
To an obvious dead end?
Where they find only themselves...
Burdened by delusions and in protest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Light Years From the Others
Your touch...
Light years from the others.
Sought and needed much.
Attentive you are!
What you deliver is attentiveness.
The ones i thought as lovers then...
I dare not now to mention.
Something new within me flourishes.
I feel encouraged and do my best,
To be receptive.
No matter what my mood,
My attitude has always been by you approved.
And improved too!
Your touch...
Is light years away from the others.
And smothered by your love I am spolied.
When your attentiveness is given,
I care less who expresses,
You have got me rotten!
Yes.
And it is my wish to stink with it.
That's how long this has been needed.
And you, Have succeeded...
Beyond my dreams.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gods of the East
Because I sought it far from men,
In deserts and alone,
I found it burning overhead,
The jewel of a Throne.
Because I sought--I sought it so
And spent my days to find--
It blazed one moment ere it left
The blacker night behind.
We be the Gods of the East--
Older than all--
Masters of Mourning and Feast--
How shall we fall?
* * * * *
This I saw when the rites were done,
And the lamps were dead and the Gods alone,
And the grey snake coiled on the altar stone--
Ere I fled from a Fear that I could not see,
And the Gods of the East made mouths at me.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Point Of View
Nothing is as it seems
No thing is as it is
We see nothing that we need to see
We see everything as they seem to be
Some things are as they're deemed
But really everything isn't what its
deemed to be
Sometimes no time seems the best time
But most times this time is the only time
'Be what you want to be', they say
Is what you want to be what you're
made to be?
Made to be? Huh?
'Aim for the sky and defy it'
A snail crawls his days and yet is what
he's made to be
What do you see when you look at me?
Wait, again I ask
What do you think you see when you
look at me?
That's true, you've never really looked at
me
I've never truly looked at you either
All that seems odd is even
Right is right, wrong is wrong, the
midway wrong
A suit and tie, a blouse and skirt
A shoulder broad, a smile broadened
To be like them, the greener grass
Things as they are, are not what they
are
All parade their lives allegedly being real
And alleging others fake
Give all a mask and they'll tell who
indeed they are
The past of a saint, the future of the
sinner
All evils hidden and intentions tucked in
He was a martyr and oh, a philanthropist
And seemed to all who saw all things
seemingly
A hero and a king
But from up above and from in within
Love was not in the mix
And all that really seemed something
Really, truly was nothing
'The building was on fire, my baby
inside
Where was God? , there is no God'
Inferences for the novice, truth founds
the wise
The night had fallen
All men stood with eyes sky-bound
Some adored the beauty of the stars
And some saw a full moon
A selected few a half-broken moon
While the rest cursed the darkness of
the night
It was the same night with the same
stars
One moon, one sky, all mortals, different
views
The pleasures of life swimming in
laughter
Are sought after in money
The treasures of life hidden in us
Are sought after in things
The marrow of life living in friendship
Is sought after in fame
The meaning of life glaring in love
Is sought after in questions
No one sees what is, we seek what
should be
Which being never made to be
Never will be.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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Passengers
The things we think that feel the best.
Most often cause us pain.
So we risk to seek the pleasure.
Again, and again and again.
This is for the ones we hurt the most.
They sit and watch us slowly die.
We sacrifice their little hearts.
We rarely bat an eye.
They are merely passengers.
Riding on our ship.
We unknowingly bring them along.
On our destruction trip.
When we feel the pain.
They feel it even more.
The quest to our destruction.
Lies just beyond the door.
We open it up and walk right in.
The pleasures make us blind.
The innocent little passengers.
They follow right behind.
A tear wells up in the little one’s eye.
And rolls down their little cheek.
But we journey down the road to hell.
Their pain is worth the peek.
Another door, another room.
Further in we go.
The passengers hurt and terrified.
As we continue on our show.
Then when it is all said and done.
And we admit our own defeat.
The innocent little passengers.
Stand behind us bruised and beat.
We turn around and there they are.
We see the damage we’ve done.
The pain for the innocent passengers.
Was not at all worth all our selfish fun.
We say we’re sorry, forgive me please.
Can we leave this all behind.
Not aware of all the scar tissues.
We’ve left in their little minds.
So chose your path so carefully.
With everything you say and do.
The pleasure we seek, it is all lies.
But to our passengers it’s the truth.
We hurt the ones we love the most.
Our actions lead the way.
Remember their tomorrows.
Lie within our todays.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Growth And Blooming Of Bright Flowers
Wanting to know,
And not willing to listen...
Does not fertilize,
One's comprehension to expand.
Enthralled one is by their own demands.
Those who seek to be understood,
But lack the patience to understand.
Has a fear to self assess themselves,
As close as one who self examines can.
Wanting to know,
And not willing to listen...
Does not fertilize,
One's comprehension to absorb clarity.
Unless that clarity has others to agree.
And one not comprehending,
Only wants to perceive from one point of view.
And if that point of view mentioned,
Has obstacles in its way blocking what is there to see...
Those obstacles will remain to stay where they are.
When a stubbornness is thick like a cemented brick wall.
And stuck with a holding onto the comfort of ignorance...
That appears from the outside to be permanently installed.
Wanting to know,
And not willing to listen...
Could be that one who believes the feeding of weeds,
Nourishes the growth and blooming of bright flowers.
With a giving of consideration to nothing else at all.
Even when the petals from them begin to prematurely fall.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until A Confirmation Comes
It becomes extremely difficult,
To eliminate...
Both waste 'and' B.S. from one's life.
No one realizes if the decision made to do it,
Is right...
Until a confirmation comes from someone.
Who then states,
Without hesitating to wait...
'If only I knew what to do,
To rid myself from the smelling of hell.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Riding With Cats Eyes Nine Lives
riding with cats eyes nine lives
riding in dark or moonlight
riding in cloud shadow or rain
riding with a lucky stars roll
riding at speed in night magic
hitting judder bars in darkness
hitting judder bars hard fast
hitting judder bars all alone
hitting judder bars straight on
hitting judder bars at speed
is heightened airborne rush
is riding racing death in night
is riding in night fed wonder
is heightened seconds flying
is ready road rocket launch pad
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Just As Perceptions Have No Clarity
If they were not as quick to attack,
And latch onto comprehension...
To understand their dissensions,
Without becoming offended
By its appearance.
To mend and end them.
There would be less conflict,
And more tolerance...
Of which they prove there is none.
Just as perceptions have no clarity of depth...
They are left believing,
Their self righteousness trimmed with arrogance...
Is sought instead of rejected!
And this is defended.
Until a quality of life with its isolated inequities,
Ends!
Without a shred of truth pursued!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ever have one of 'those' days
Did you ever have one of “those” days
A day at least twenty seven hours long
A day in which nothing much went right
Yet also, a day when… nothing went wrong
One of those days that does absolutely nothing’
One of those days that could have phoned itself in
One of those days you could’ve fit so much stuff in
But you didn’t…and ain’t that a sin.
A day… that had it gone any slower,
Would have started goin’ in reverse
until’ it turned into yesterday and..
What could possibly be worse?
Tomorrow would become today then
Well that’s what could go wrong!
And I’d have another one of “those” days
A day at least thirty hours long
poem by David Whalen
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