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Circumstantial Evidence

Defensive behavior,
Attributed to allegations raised...
That tarnishes one's integrity.
Implies an acknowledgement,
Of something known.
Something that has shown the doer,
Not able to perform the task of walking on water.
Without getting a dropp of torential rains...
Pounding down upon cresting waves,
Ten feet tall.

And co-incidentally,
Away from the scene of the 'crime' commited.
Appearing fresh and yet...
In a drenched tuxedo.
That is worn and dripping...
While holding a glass of champagne.

'I know...
I know what you all are thinking.
You all may have your suspicions.
And your thoughts are preposterous!
Adsurdly untrue.

But let me say this about that...
To squash idIe chittering chats behind my back.
I am appalled by those unmitigated accusations.
I am not a lowlife 'tweeter' as insinuated.
I have been followed with intention to defame.'

So...
You dispute this picture of you,
Appearing inebriated and naked?
Shouting out obscenities while using the internet?
Is not actually you at all?

'What you have is circumstantial evidence.
'Anyone' in the world could have done that.
I tell you,
Someone is out to smear my name...
AND prestige.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Us How You Plan To Walk On Water

Why should anyone today,
Turn away from controversy?
Or pretend they have super human powers.
And that urges within them do not exist!
With a haunting that stays to tease,
Hour upon hour after hour...
Once their needs have been released.

'These folks who creep out of cracks,
Are found to perform all kinds of despicable acts.
In or under or out of clothes disrobed.
Whether they are polished with graces or not...
When the flesh is heated,
Nothing in the mind is going to say, 'Stop! '

To hear a human being declaring an abstinence,
For a purpose made to raise their own consciousness...
Should be accepted and left to go uninspected.
And not begin suspicions mentioned and sent...
To send those self righteous,
Into downward spirals of denial and lament.

'I too have been weighted by the aspects of sin.'

However,
And this depends on the cleverness...
Of those who secretly indulge in lustfulness.
But somehow address allegations of their behavior,
That raises eyebrows...
As a tormenting way of life to lead.

And depending on the amount of damage control allowed.
With an invested integrity...
They will do the best they can,
To defeat the temptations of others that accuse them...
Of having pleasured their human needs.
And appearing less than the demands placed upon them,
Are from other expected.

'I too have been weighted by the aspects of sin.'

~Oh,
We don't care anything about that.
As long as you give us image!
And you do the best to keep that on track.
We will watch your back!
Now...
You go back out there and tell us,
How you plan to walk on water! ~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking Across The Atlantic

I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.

Soon I am walking across the Atlantic
thinking about Spain,
checking for whales, waterspouts.
I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.
Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface.

But for now I try to imagine what
this must look like to the fish below,
the bottoms of my feet appearing, disappearing.

poem by Billy Collins
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There Are Only Eyes Appearing Above The Surface

There are only eyes appearing above the surface
in the brown water of the river's pool
before they again disappear without a trace.
There are only eyes appearing above the surface
when it notices a prey, are covered by the water-curtain
where the crocodile hides in the depths of the river,
there are only eyes appearing above the surface
in the brown water of the river's pool.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Until They Research What They Hear

It doesn't matter to me,
What you now know...
And what you found out.

Am I to be impressed,
By your acknowledgement?
And the way you'd like that addressed?
Or the fact that your discovery,
Exposes your absence of respect...
We both know was never shown to me.

Are you expecting 'me' to change?
I am always going to think of you,
The way I've been thinking of you.

'How is that? '

Less!
Someone I've already identified,
As a pest to the human race.

But don't worry about it.
I keep things like that to myself.
That's why I am quite surprised,
That you would know anything about me at all.
Since the rumors I heard,
Had me quite appalled.
And the things you said I did with my mother?
Were never done.

Afterall...
Those comments you made about me,
And with others who were convinced they were true?
I've known of them myself for many years.
And I would never have an appreciation for you.
My sights are not on lowlife.

Well...
Congratulations on your discovery.
I hope we were able to share something...
That opened both of our eyes!

'There is nothing like hearing the truth,
Is there? '

Nothing like it.
But some folks don't realize that...
Until they research what they hear!
And then it takes time,
To put two and two together.
Doesn't it?

Enjoy your day!
Since you have no idea,
How much you have made mine.
And I thank you for that!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Didn't You Say This Before?

In the doing of what it takes to get things done,
By a doer...
Why is it,
There are those who do not know what a doer does...
Yet,
There they are...
Appearing from nowhere,
With their mouths opened...
Rattling off their unsolicited and nagging suggestions,
As to how anyone who does what they do...
Should do what they suggest while they,
Do absolutely nothing,
But argue with the doer of a doing that gets done.
With a wasting of that doer's time?

'Didn't you say this before?
This is sounding familiar.'

YES.
And somehow you just can not get the hint!

'Maybe because I have no clue what it is you are talking about.
And who is the dodoer not doing the dodo to the dude.'

HOPELESS I tell you.
It's a 'hope' that's getting 'less'.

'And now you want to change the subject.
And you always tell me,
I am the one not knowing how to communicate?
I am the only one who makes attempts to do it with you.
But NOOOO...
You want to talk about toilets and who uses them.
You've got a problem and you don't want to face it.'

I know.
You're right.
I do.
I agree.
I need some time alone.
Maybe that's what I need.
Some time to myself.
To get some rest.

'I understand.
Give me a call if you need me for anything.
You know I'm on your side.
You take it easy, okay?
Don't stress over it.
Let it go.
Forget it.'

I will.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On a stormy sea

When the waves of the sea
became bigger and the wind
started to blow at storm strength,
the boat didn’t sail anymore
and it rocked in the waves
bobbing up and down in the water.

The men were afraid of death
while the Christ
walked on the stormy sea between the waves,
scared to sink and afraid of drowning
and also of seeing a ghost
appearing on the water,

but His calm voice brought serenity
to the wind, waves, sea and men on the boat.

poem by Gert Strydom
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You Reflect the Neglect That Is Available

If you are not showing you have integrity.
Why are you expecting to have bestowed respect?
Especially from those you believe should think of you,
As a priority in 'their' lives.
You must be on 'crack' or something cheaper that addicts.
If you are walking around thinking that,
And believing it!

Some folks are raised with perceptions,
They own the Earth and they are center of this Universe.
And deceiving with dishonesty...
To cheat and lie is how it should be!
No one has to look for that to see the evidence.
It can smother observations.
Already it pollutes the air.

Some live their lives as if one continuous joke!
And perhaps for them it is.
Since nothing they do is taken seriously.
They are in constant denial.
Although seek a freedom to sit back and ask for handouts.
Not 'all'...
But many are taught to praise their laziness.
And quote from scriptures to convince...
They are going to inherit something from God.
In some 'afterlife'!
If they remain meek and on their knees!

Smoozed, deluded and crazed!
And they defend this way of life.

If you are not showing you have integrity.
Why are you expecting to have bestowed respect?
Especially from those you believe should think of you,
As a priority in 'their' lives.
You must be on 'crack' or something cheaper that addicts.
If you are walking around thinking that,
And believing it!

You reflect the neglect that is available...
If someone chooses to indulge in the offerings.
That's all!
Nothing more.
Unless you protect,
What you have yet to show!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet- Cinema These Days

Some weird disease afflicts filmdom today!
The craze for big-money and stardom stays;
The cheque decides how actors perform play;
‘Porno’ and obscenities only pays.

Sexuality is depicted threadbare!
Violence is shown much more than what’s real;
Vices when shown to youngsters, who does care?
Psychology is used to just crowd-pull.

The Censor-board has raised all its thresholds;
The ugliness of life is shown as such;
Producers care a hang for young or old;
Morality has touched a new low much.

All things are done in the name of acting!
Talking, kissing, loving, fighting, mating!

poem by John Celes
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Fresh Air and Clear Sunsets

I am the happiest,
Near you stripped.
Bare and naked,
With love exchanged from our lips.

I feel real joyous,
As if you are the prize.
Or a special gift...
Here in the midst,
We share.

Fresh air and clear Sunsets,
There appearing in your eyes.
And I love the dance I see...
Twinkling back at me like stars.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Precision

As all my words weave themselves together,
Every verse arrives on the scene.
Furnished and burnished to such perfection,
With punctuation in between.

Stories that are really a knock-out,
Lines flowing easily on course,
Could all these writes be worth shouting about,
Appearing from a well known source.

I try with precision to set their shape,
Appeal, in each poem to find.
Poetry that everyone can enjoy,
Things that can so surely spellbind.

These woven pieces are a joy to mould,
And when they’re finally complete.
A warm feeling enters my aging heart,
And so, I find a fresh blank sheet.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Monsoon Rains

The Monsoon rains have set at last,
A bit delayed than in the past!
The state is water-logged a lot;
The water-table, up somewhat!

No doubt, the rains are welcome but
Many have lost their lives and hut;
The torrent was sudden and big,
And left most people with no wig!

Many now suffer by the rains;
The water is from sky and drains;
It takes a month to settle down;
This is the scene in every town!

Yet, who does clean the cities’ dumps?
’Tis Nature cleaning dirt, clogs, sumps!
For, no one does this job so well,
Like rain from God that pours like hell!

Nevertheless, it does just good,
Though farmers lose their fields and food!
And roads and bridges get damaged,
They are the bad ones and the aged!

Thank God for Monsoon rains that came,
And give Him praises and not blame!
The world needs water that is fresh;
If not, no one can drink, refresh!

Oh, let the rains come in big way!
And let it rain by night and day!
Let’s face the strife those, come what may!
The Sun will shine when we make hay!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 26-11-11

poem by John Celes
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Dripping Water

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the horizon of heaven,
on the land, on the sand,
makes me happy, and so elated,

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the dark black clouds,
on the leaves, on the tress,
gives them a slow quick bath,

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the thunderstruck light,
on the eyes, on the cheeks,
makes everyone to turn the face up!

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the beauty of sky,
onthe mud, on the rivers,
makes musical splashes when gets strike,

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the love of vast scream,
to the beautiful murmors of land,
makes me sing, and dance.

poem by Tayyeba Mustafa
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Gummy The Gumshoe

There was a gumshoe named Gummy
Some people do not know what gumshoe is-a detective

Well, I will tell you a story
I was walking the streets lasrt night

I saw a shadow formed behind a street light
It did not scare me because I knew it was Gummy

Gummy was out trying to solve a crime
The crime was a murder

It was commited within a very rich family
Gummy searched for evidence and could find none and that is the end of the story

poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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Fabulously Smothered

Perfect.
It wasn't there to show anyone...
She knew.

It wasn't there to be shown,
She had a hint it had existed.

And many waiting for an expression,
Of it to be seen...
Didn't see a clue of it from her.
Or him!
Or anyone appearing in...
This dare to be different contest.
It is as if the concept of it appalled.

What a feast...
For anyone condoning cloning.

Totally absent of individual identity.
As if they had none at all.

Fabulously smothered,
Is a detected thought process.
So incredibly brilliant has been the conditioning.
What a magnificent display to witness.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cresting Wave

He decide the future was in his hands.
Elevating annoyance to fresh levels of disgust!
Hand picked by those loyal to falsehoods,
And rusting myths...
He insisted his vision would lift them to greatness.
To rule a world directed by his commanding insight!
Was he right?
Or were they all to scatter like frightened mice?
These episodes finally come to a close...
Exposing a greed that reveals insanity.
As those who chose to ride high on a cresting wave...
Come to realize,
This adventure is about to end with them...
Prepared to celebrate alone,
In isolation.
Without a dropp of champagne to quench their thirst!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without Feeling Guilt Or Appalled At All

It's just so sad...
To think that people don't get a bite to eat.
And it's just so sad...
These people aren't the only ones seen on the streets.
Some still live in homes,
While others condone roaming all alone.

Oh it's just too sad...
To know the ones who lead aren't leaders.
Although give they do nice and sweet speeches,
As if what will be done is prioritized...
And homelessness and hunger will soon meet defeat!

It's just so sad...
To witness people struggle to their feet.
And walk for miles to try to keep up...
Their heads as they seek dwindling opportunities.
As others pass them talking,
To leave them without greeting...
Or helping out to meet their needs.

People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled at all!
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled at all!

It's just so sad...
To think that people don't get a bite to eat.
And it's just so sad...
These people aren't the only ones seen on the streets.
Some still live in homes,
While others condone roaming all alone.

(It's just so...)
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled.
(It's just so...)
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled.
(It's just so...)
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ohh Annie...

Last night I had a dream
I was looking for my dog
Where is my beautiful yorkshire?
Tired and out of breath
Keep on walking and looking
In the nearby pond
I found a lot of dogs
Big dogs small dogs
All dead floating
I finally found Sinta
Down below by my feet
Almost invisible in the dirty pond
I picked her up very carefully
She was all brown like caramel
I was going to give up and cry
But instead I pumped her small chest
Really carefully not to hurt her
Then she coughed up water
After three or four times
Her color changed back
Black and gold
Her hair started to shine
And when I slightly caressed her hair
Mustard starts appearing
Underneath her wet hair
She was all covered with mustard!
I woke up
I was thinking “what a dream”
Then I looked for Sinta
She was lying down by my feet
Sleeping... Snoring...
And then I slightly caressed her hair
At Five o'clock
Still tired from walking all night I got up
Brushed my teeth and made some coffee
I checked my phone messages
This is bad news
My sister passed away

poem by Kay Barcelon
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The One Conscious

A conscious mind,
Showing up late and half dressed...
Will go much further.
Than the unconscious one,
Fully dressed...
In a tuxedo,
Not appearing to be there at all.
Even though physically present!
Both are scrutinized...
But the one conscious,
Is far more entertaining!
And eventually forgiven.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prayer Wheel

prayer wheel turning...
naming the nameless,
the forgotten, the
left behinds...

the throwaways.

counting every grain
of sand,
every dropp of water.

sweeping the inner rooms
of the self.
undressing the mind
and its passions.

holding the thorn
in an open hand.

diving naked and deeply
into life...
without holding back!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Murder Scene

Implements of a Murder:
The smoking gun,
the silken rope, and
other cliches
Watching a play
in which murder is
the motive for
carrying on w/
all manner of
bad behavior

A dinner party
where red wine is
served in crystal
glasses- light
caught within the
reddened spheres,
Casting the color
of the wine in
wide ovals
on the floor

The wine appearing
later in the part of
Bloodstains on the Carpet:
justifying its existence as
'Incriminating Evidence'

poem by Bryan P.T. Riley
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