Bogus Floaters
Bogus floaters rise like puff pastry.
The texture is a bit flaky and overdone with yeast.
But as long as the center sustains a sweetness,
Who today would care there is a lacking of substance?
None at its core to eat that keeps this stuff puffed up,
And above that which does maintain a taste...
To be acclaimed as credible.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pipe Song
Care is all stuff:--
Puff! Puff!
To puff is enough:--
Puff! Puff
More musky than snuff,
And warm is a puff:--
Puff! Puff
Here we sit mid our puffs,
Like old lords in their ruffs,
Snug as bears in their muffs:--
Puff! Puff
Then puff, puff, puff,
For care is all stuff,
Puffed off in a puff--
Puff! Puff!
poem by Herman Melville
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Mr.Puff
My dog Mr.Puff,
Mr. Puff has got the stuff,
He's white and fluffy,
And full of glee,
He's very cute and always happy,
Mr. Puff is a ladies man,
He's a ladies man with a plan,
He goes and sits on the street,
And all the ladies come at his feet,
Mr. Puff knows the game,
He has three females whos owner is the same,
He sleeps with the three every night,
And makes sure to keep them in his sight,
Mr. Puff is a dog many has dreamed of,
Mr. Puff is my dog and he knows he's loved.
poem by Shutter Queen
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Caricatures
Bad mouthing others,
Seems to be always done by those...
Who believe they are on the rise,
Of some social circuit acceptance.
Until they realize,
They have become caricatures...
In an environment of people,
Seeking only to be entertained.
No interest is given,
To create or leave anything that sustains...
Or maintains an historic substance.
Unless what is being created,
'Is' historic and valued as having substance.
And that usually is not determined,
By those staring at entrances and exits...
To approve the arrival of who enters.
With a glance of a nearby clock to acknowledge,
The exact time someone who is talked about...
Leaves and with whom,
If not alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Memory.
Memory of your mother
rolling pastry
and you watching
her hands
and the rolling pin
and the way the pastry
was pushed down
and out
and then she took
the pastry
and put it over a dish
and spooned in
the cooked beef
and onions
and then placed another
rolled out piece
of pastry on top
and forked down
the edges of the pastry
and she said
do you want
the end clippings?
and you said
sure why not
and she gave you
the clipped off pasty
raw in your hands
and you began to eat
noticing how red
and raw and worn
her fingers
and hands were
and how tired
her eyes looked
and wiping hair
from her eyes
with the back
of her floured hand
she pushed out a sigh
and you saw there
how a thousand dreams
of young girls die.
poem by Terry Collett
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We Are All Lost In Our Own Small Lives
WE ARE ALL LOST IN OUR OWN SMALL LIVES
We are all lost in our own small lives
Which seem to be the world to us
But which are for the Universe
A grain of a grain of a grain of sand
So so so so nothing at all –
We are all here at the center
So serious about what we are
And we ultimately are
What every unnamed atom will never see
Oh small is not the word
And nothing either
We puffed puffed puffed up fools
Mostly me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We Pray for you Mother Earth
I pray for you Mother Earth right down to your center core,
I will fill your heart with light pink to know that you are loved,
From all the living creatures from up above
Yes, we all need to hold hands and send love your way
We pray for you each and every day.
Yes, we all pray for you that you feel our love,
We know you have the power to make hurricanes, tsunamis,
tornadoes
I hope you hear our prayers right down to your soul
And it makes you happy that we all love you…
And appreciate the world you have given us,
We are grateful and I hope you can trust that we
Will take care from above as well as below,
For we pray for you right down to the center core.
Copyright August 8,2010 Sue Chevalier
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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We Pray for you Mother Earth
I pray for you Mother Earth right down to your center core,
I will fill your heart with light pink to know that you are loved,
From all the living creatures from up above
Yes, we all need to hold hands and send love your way
We pray for you each and every day.
Yes, we all pray for you that you feel our love,
We know you have the power to make hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes
I hope you hear our prayers right down to your soul
And it makes you happy that we all love you…
And appreciate the world you have given us,
We are grateful and I hope you can trust that we
Will take care from above as well as below,
For we pray for you right down to the center core.
Copyright August 8,2010 Suzae Chevalier
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Rise Up
rise up and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
we've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Everybody's come a long long way
such a long way ,to be here today
we're going hard ,giving it all
we've been knocking on wood with our backs to the walls
we've been working every day and night
waiting for the chance for the day to arrive
and now we've all got something to prove
win or lose, there's only one thing to do
We've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Inside the sweat, inside the heat
in each and every heart there's a pounding beat
to do it wrong, to do it right
each of us has put up, one hell of a fight
and as we face the final test
all that we can do is to do our best
and as we're making time stand still
to get to the top you've got to give all you've got
You've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up
Shine a light and let them see
everything you want to be
Shine a light and let them know
you are never letting go
Rise up... win or lose there's only one thing to do
We've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Rise, and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up, rise up,
over higher mountains, rise,
We've got to rise up.
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bogus Doses
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
To keep them away from a 'vision'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
To keep them away from a 'vision'.
Don't leave with a notion to soak,
Your bogus doses will get any info from me.
To keep me away from what's been 'visioned'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
Not deep enough to cloud...
A 'vision'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep,
To keep them away from the 'vision'.
Whatever that you do,
Has been done and 'thunked! '
With a doing of it in most eyes like a basketball dunked.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
You can't exchange the truth for a dollar.
Or change its appearance to ensure it fits.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Take your bogus doses.
People who have seen this have a 'vision'.
And to witness focused.
Whatever that you do,
Has been done and 'thunked! '
With a doing of it in most eyes like a basketball dunked.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Now take your bogus doses.
Take your bogus doses.
Now take your bogus doses...
Away, away!
Now take your bogus doses.
Take your bogus doses.
Now take your bogus doses...
Away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wordplay With Marshmallows
Some days are meant for marshmallows
Such light and puffy stuff
Time for tossing words about
For phenomenal fun with fluff
Infinite interludes for introspection
Imbue innumerable another day
However a taste for marshmallows
Suddenly insinuated itself today
No harm ensues from marshmallows
(No eye need be put out)
As long as one practices prudence
While tossing them about
As with all sugary self indulgence
Some control needs be employed
But no call for complete capitulation
(Marshmallows won’t be denied)
Like clouds they are in substance
(Or at least they so compare)
This froth of egg whites and sugar
When fully whipped with air
Though sticky at inception
Once given a chance to chill
Then danced through dusting of powder
They proceed to a benign thrill
One cannot subsist on marshmallows
(I do concede that singularity)
And some don’t relish their taste
(So I embrace such peculiarity)
But allow me this indulgence
On this extraordinary day
While a penchant for marshmallows
Occupies my wordplay
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bitten By Drive And Ambition
When one's cup fills to the brim...
With a spilling over that begins.
Would it be advantageous,
To secure another cup?
Or should a sacrifice,
That has been satisfied...
Be enough,
For one bitten by drive...
And ambition.
Or...
Does a success achieved,
Begin to breed the feeding...
Of an unstoppable greed.
Only one familiar with the taste of poverty,
Can truthfully say...
What sustains a need,
To maintain a craving done selfishly!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shall I care?
Shall I care at all, that in the dreams and in the languor of time
My poetry does not show me and my inner most being and prime
For my poems are fragrance, and not a credible reflection
Words like shadows in disharmony dance and daunt imagination
But I do care, for life will be over so soon,
And I will be lost, forgotten as my being never happen
Like a small candle in mid day bright noon
And my quill idle, blunt and not sharpen
yet, like barley bending in harsh summer winds throng
And rising again and again
So would I, free and unbroken rise from agony and pain
Day long, night long change my sorrow into words of song
Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved
There Is A Distinction Between You And Me
It is a basic
classic distinction
between you and me
is a big chasm
a black space
they call it a hole
of a doughnut
no one understands it
completely
except myself
that center of understanding
that which accepts us
for what we are
that on the circular edge
of substance and sweetness
chocolate or orange
there is a place i call
i own
that domain of having known
nothing
between me and you
lies my own acceptance of my own
ignorance
that is where i start
my birth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Live for Bread
Save all Hope and give in to Joy,
Peace is above the reasonable boy,
The one who lives forever and away,
Yeast being the substance I obey.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Who can weigh love?
Light. Lightness. Light-heartedness.
Who can measure their measureless weight?
On the kitchen scales, we balance
weight against weight; but how different
the substances - on the one scale,
iron weights with their iron discipline
maintain like monks and nuns their constancy;
on the other scale, perhaps fine flour,
poured as bakers recommend, from a height
to catch the air between the grains; a foretaste
of that greater levity that yeast will bring;
Lorenzo de’ Medici, praising publicly his tutor,
Marsilio Ficino, said of him, that one thing in him which he loved
was that in his speech, gravity was mixed with levity,
and levity, with gravity;
what then, of our substance? In the lightness
of our being, then how bright the light! And in
the dark and heavy days, what lightness of the light may lurk
in melancholia – a yeast of wisdom yet to act?
And then – there’s love…its golden weightiness
so full of light; and hammered out and spread,
the brighter then…oh, who can measure out
the lightness, brightness, of our joy? What golden scales
of justice, mercy, grace,
may weigh the shining of a shining face?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Suppose I Could Hoax
With a splattering of spoofs,
I suppose I could hoax...
If that was what I chose to do.
So many folks,
Seem caught up...
In the promotion of pretense.
And with a hollowed puffed up chest,
I would strut like a Rooster...
Or a Peacock doing that as my best.
But I enjoy a peacefulness...
Undisturbed by a prioritized nonsense.
Since I've chosen to be true,
With a detesting done by those who fool...
As a way to identify themselves with substance!
And substance is difficult to fake and present,
To those who know the difference between content and waste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Compassion
It is one's compassion,
And beliefs...
To alleviate a grief felt.
With a bringing to others...
A feeling of relief,
That is received and released.
To asist in the melting...
With a helping of it to go away.
Distress seems to be left,
Everywhere on one's path today.
Another who cares,
Isn't 'asked' to be there...
But is there,
Anyway.
That is compassion,
Fashioned...
From understanding another's pain.
Compassion that is fashioned,
From a mode of action...
That one sustains.
It is not a style to maintain,
When the mood of it goes.
It is there to show,
With sincerity...
As it's received.
That is compassion,
Fashioned...
From understanding another's pain.
Compassion that is fashioned,
From a mode of action...
That one sustains.
Distress seems to be left,
Everywhere on one's path today.
Another who cares,
Isn't 'asked' to be there...
But is there,
Anyway.
And if asked to stay,
That one with compassion...
Will!
That one,
That comes with compassion...
Will.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Beaten Into Sweetness
Beaten into sweetness.
Like grapes to produce,
A fine wine sipped.
Beaten into sweetness.
To allure and maintain,
A sizable profit held in a firm fist.
And every whiff of it sniffed,
Satisfied to the very last drop.
Beaten into sweetness.
Although a sadness carried,
Inside would not stop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Bogus Man
(ferry)
The bogus man is on his way
As fast as he can run
Hes tired but hell get to you
And shoot you with his gun
Focussed his mind
On something he cared about
But it came out a shout
Just like before
The bogus man is at your heels
Now clutching at your coat
You must be quick now hurry up
Hes scratching at your throat
Concealed his doubt
By skilful evasion
But he couldnt find out
About deception
The bogus man is on his way
As fast as he can run
Hes tired but hell get to you
And show you lots of fun
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Do Folks Just Make Up Stuff?
Why do folks just make up stuff?
Even those who traditionally lie professionally,
And have kept it this way for centuries...
Can be noticed becoming increasingly appalled,
By this relatively new trend in communication.
Their lies are being amended,
By the telling of lies more outrageously told.
And to say they are offended,
Is an understatement.
They can be seen blowing off steam.
Why do folks just make up stuff?
Not even good made up stuff at that.
There is weak made up stuff being made.
Low grade although acceptable.
And this can be seen,
As a detriment to standards kept...
That has begun to threaten values,
Being questioned by the youth...
Graduating with degrees of higher learning,
With no where to apply their lessons learned.
As those who just make up stuff,
Are making themselves more credible.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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