En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Dancing to Old Tunes

There are no ties I wish to keep,
With anyone seeking to enter playgrounds.
Wanting to reminisce a swinging on swings.
Or those seesawing near remembered sandboxes.

There is 'something' about living my life,
In the 'here' and 'now'...
That a yesterday that has gone,
I can not relive with a desire of dancing to old tunes.

And there is something to be said,
About those who enjoy...
Celebrating places that no longer exist.
As if their lives lived today comes as a surprise.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today No Comprehension Comes

My tomorrow,
Will come to me to exist.
And will become your yesterday...
I have already visited.

Today no comprehension comes.
The 'now' that should be lived...
Isn't done by everyone.
Some choose to sit,
And reminisce the past.
With hopes to grasp from time gone...
Something that will last,
To hold onto forever.
And forever is a myth.
Like wishing to breathe life...
Into that which has moved on!

But my tomorrow,
Will come to me to exist.
And will become your yesterday...
I have already visited.
That's why you think of me as a drifter.
And I must admit...
It would be useless to argue,
With you.
Since your point of view,
Is one I have left behind.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Recovery

That which occurred in our lives,
Does not return.
The 'now' is to be lived!
And with it lessons learned.

To wish for that which no longer exists,
Implies a resistence to what 'is'...
And the mentality associated with it.

A recovery is done when one moves on.
In acceptance of what has been lived,
Has to be let go...
Since it is gone.

There is nothing from yesterday,
That will be replayed again to stay.

To live life is a forward movement,
It is!
And for many in denial,
They refuse to see it that way.
Insisting on a revisit.
To relive what now isn't for them.

Remaining deluded,
Some do...
To addicting intoxications,
To redo and transfix...
That which has slipped from their grasp.
And traumatically faded away too fast!
Never to make a reappearance as it was.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home By The Sea

Creeping up the blind side, shinning up the wall
Stealing thru the dark of night
Climbing thru a window, stepping to the floor
Checking to the left and the right
Picking up the pieces, putting them away
Something doesnt feel quite right
Help me someone, let me out of here
Then out of the dark was suddenly heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Coming out the woodwork, thru the open door
Pushing from above and below
Shadows but no substance, in the shape of men
Round and down and sideways they go
Adrift without direction, eyes that hold despair
Then as one they sign and they moan
Help us someone, let us out of here
Living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Sit down sit down
Sit down sit down sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Images of sorrow, pictures of delight
Things that go to make up a life
Endless days of summer longer nights of gloom
Waiting for the morning light
Scenes of unimportance, photos in a frame
Things that go to make up a life
Help us someone, let us out of here
Cos living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Sit down sit down
Sit down sit down sit down sit down
As we relive out lives in what we tell you
Let us relive out lives in what we tell you
Sit down sit down sit down
Cos you wont get away
No with us you will stay
For the rest of your days - sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Let us relive our lives in what we tell you

song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who 'Is' and 'Is Not' For Real

He,
Has not forgotten...
Where he came from.
Or the place of his birth.
Nor the enjoyment of fun.

He,
Is just not there...
Trying to keep it alive and fresh.
Unchanged and remembered.
Since those places others keep traced...
Where his life was once lived,
No longer exist.
On steps and stoops...
Or in hallways where some still stay.
Left to play as if those days have not gone away.
In minds that time for them has betrayed.

He,
Is just not there to care...
To listen to them determine,
Who 'is' and 'is not'
For real!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Each Season Leaves

To say today no changes have been made,
Is to exist in a stagnant vacuum.

Yesterday is not today.
Nor was yesterday the day before.

Those who perceive life,
As an opportunity to leech...
Sit waiting for someone to knock,
With a proclamation...
That allows them to breathe.

When each season leaves,
Another takes its place.
When someone opens a door...
So much more can be observed,
If steps are made to go forward...
To feel a freshness of this upon one's face.

To say today no changes have been made,
Is to exist in a stagnant vacuum.

Yesterday is not today.
Nor was yesterday the day before.

To say today no changes have been made,
Are words spoken from those...
Who have chosen the boredom,
Of a monotony to daily experience.
With a keeping of this explored.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dry Day

Life as you know will end someday
Since every single day is never the same
Yesterday was a dark age following in today
What a surprise because today was a dry day

You got nothing to do but get wasted
Listen to me brother, don't get me arrested
We gotta break free from this stupid law
What a surprise because today was a dry day

All along as the clock ticked by I waited
It seemed as if the time was all destined
A moment of space without you I stay
What a surprise because today was dry day

Grieving low all past long when I'm high
Help me grace, love will relieve the pain
Let us explore the world as the drunk one said
What a surprise because today was dry day

As past enfolds into this mystery today
I look behind back in those days
Suck glorious moments filled us held today
What a surprise because today was dry day

poem by Siddharth Shah
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Live For Today

Show me the road and I will find my own
and you build the bridges and I'll burn them down.
So far away and all alone I roam
I'm taking chances in the here and now.
And all you wonder is who's for sale
but you won't know now and I won't tell.
You're always hiding, throwing up your hands
while heroes ride again.
God only knows all the places I've been
but I love this life that I'm live'n in and
I won't look back to regret yesterday.
We're not handed tomorrow
so I'll live for today.
Another day and yet another's done,
spending the life living within the past.
I'll take the chance before the chance has gone.
you never know when it will be your last
But still you wonder who's for sale
you won't know now and I won't tell.
You're always hiding, throwing up your hands
while heroes ride again.
God only knows all the places I've been
but I love this life that I'm live'n in.
I won't look back to regret yesterday.
We're not handed tomorrow
so I'll live for today.
We'll never know it When we run out of time until it's all over with
and there'll be nowhere to run.
We'll never say it but we're over our heads and we're drowning inside
all of these things we've said.
God only knws all the places I've been
but I love this life that I'm live'n in.
I won't look back to regret yesterday
cuz we're not handed tomorrow
so I'll live for today.
God only knows all the places I've been
but I love this life that I'm live'n in.
I won't look back to regret yesterday
cuz we're not handed tomorrow.
so I'll live for today.

song performed by by 3 Doors Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today....is

Today, today and today was like today, a remeberance of today won't feel like yesterday or it won't feel like tommorow but it feels like today and it will always feel like today no yesterday or tommorow will change today, oh today taking out days away like yesterday that's what today means it means no tommorow it means no yesterdays I will not dare to relive my past but stay in the present...stay in today that's what I want to do.......bc today is, and today was the day that I....yes I made a difference........L/S

poem by Luisa Sanchez
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Farewell to Those Times I Knew Too Well

Goodbye to those midnights,
And tears that came to fall.
No longer am I there.
No longer there am I,
At all.

So aware I am,
Where I am today.
No regrets have I saved.
Not from those days,
To relive and replay!

And with any midnight now,
That comes along.
I am not sitting with sorrows forlorn.

I have said my farewells,
To those times I knew well...
That held me,
To memories that saddened...
But have since gone!

I have grown more to want my life to live,
For me!
I have taken more time needed,
Just to grieve.
And when I sit at midnight now,
I'm not with yesterday.
I am here today to say,
Farewell...
To those times,
I knew too well!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lived To Witness

No longer do I awaken with questions,
To doubt yesterdays that have gone.
What benefit from this would I get,
If I allowed myself to sit...
And not appreciate each dawn,
Lived to witness that comes along.

Each moment I am given to move ahead,
I do!
And those who refuse truth to do as they choose,
Would not improve my outlook.
What will remaining fixed to reminisce prove?
I have no purpose to value or live 'today' as I exist?

No longer do I awaken with questions,
To doubt yesterdays that have gone.
What benefit from this would I get,
If I allowed myself to sit...
And not appreciate each dawn,
Lived to witness that comes along.

My purpose is to live.
Give.
And from the doing of it,
Receive blessings to me that benefit.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Bad Lighting From Oil Lamps

Applying today,
What worked yesterday...
And seemed a perfect fit.
May have lost its usefulness.
The benefits have been exhausted.
And yesterday for many has gone as lived.

Those living today,
Are not patiently awaiting...
For updated versions,
Of that which for them does not exist.
That kind of patience for them,
Is not authentic!

And those minds left to praise war,
As a cause to maintain an elusive peace...
Are as outdated as the typewriters they use,
To get their messages across.
Lost they are...
In the bad lighting from oil lamps of times passed.

'Do as I say.
And hand deliver those alerts,
To the town crier.
And if Paul is not available,
Hand them to someone else.
Or my suggestion would be...
Do it yourself.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Truth In Thomas Gray

Long years ago I had this dream of fame
That mine would live on as remembered name
That people would remember me and say
A legend once a legend still today.

But I think quite different now than I thought then
That I'd know fame and outlive other men
And now I know it matters none at all
Before we walk we have to learn to crawl.

And who could disagree with Thomas Gray
His elegy alive and well today
'Those paths of glory still lead to the grave'
And man to immortality still a slave.

It matters little to you when you die
Your fame that lives on you cannot enjoy
So enjoy life why worry about fame
And treat all people equal all the same.

Longfellow wrote 'It is not always May'
And the fairest rose in garden yesterday
Today it's petals scattered on the ground
And other roses blooming all around.

In my younger years just west of Millstreet Town
I yearned for fame and riches and renown
But now I see the truth in Thomas Gray
And I look at life in quite a different way.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Seeking Immortality

There is a redundancy reviewed.
And kept as fresh...
As if it is the next best thing!
Like the renewal of something staged and seen.
To keep those memories alive....
Of those times lived one survived.

There is a stale repeatedness,
Offering little originality.
As if a creativity...
Is feared by those seeking,
Immortality.
Hidden behind,
Quick touches for lust.

And the uselessness of reliving,
Times never to return.
May be one of the reasons why...
The thought of living in the 'now' as it is,
Leaves many hungering...
For clocks to stop.
And time backwards to turn,
Or cosmetically for some to want to try.

When they relied on others,
To be accountable in days long gone.
So they could live their lives,
As irresponsible kids.
With the innocence of chaos...
To inflict and carry on.

Like many immature today,
Still make attempts to do.
As they yesterday did when they hid...
In places to keep from facing the truth!
You know how children play peek-a-boo?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To feel today what one felt yesterday isn't to feel - it's to remember today what was felt yesterday, to be today's living corpse of what yesterday was lived and lost.

quote by Fernando Pessoa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Happened

Words no longer come to me
As easily as they once use to.
I'm not sure if it's from a lack of passion,
Or from a life that's caused exhaustion...
Yes,
I'm tired.
I'll admit it to you today.
I feel as if I've lived so many lives..
And carried the weight of them all
In
This
one
little
Life.
No,
I'm not saying it should be easy.
But,
Why does it have to be so difficult?
I don't fit... it seems anywhere.
I can no longer be excited by
Or
About
Anything.
Is
This
really
living?
I like taking pleasure in the simple things
But, life has become so complicated.
I just want to put on a sun dress and
Run in the grass.
How strange...
I look in the mirror and no longer recognize
Who have I become?
What do I wish for?
Somewhere on this green patch
There has to be a small piece of untouched land
My solace
My freedom
My soul
Somewhere where I can forget
And
Start
Over.
Though,
I hear you can never really start over.
Where
do
I
go
then?

poem by Rabia Minhas
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I Am No Longer

i am no longer the girl who sits alone
i am no longer the girl without a friend
i am no longer the girl with the knife
i am no longer the girl who looks at sorrow
i am no longer the girl seeking out missery
i am no longer the girl who hates her life
i am no longer the girl wanting everything to end
i am still the girl that is unknown
i am still the girl that follows
i am still the girl thats vile
i am no longer the girl without a smile
i am still the girl who seeks
i am no longer the girl making her life bleak
i am no longer the girl with depression
i am still the girl who seeks affection
i am no longer the girl whos not fun
i am no longer the girl who runs
but those who seek shall find

poem by Megan Watts
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Life

Living life
wondering if life exist
loving the volume of my sounds
today is the way it is
Today is the life to live
dont think of yesterday
Just live your life
and just forgive.... you can have it all
just think of all the things you did
I love my life and all the things I have
loving life
too bad its so short lived
everyday is a lifetime we dont have so much time
everyday you must live
Oh I love the life I live....
everyday is a chance to be
Loving you and all the challenges.....

poem by Sita Cabrera
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Some Men Will Do

The bad and evil that some men will do
Will follow them after they enter their grave
Their acts will become adages that others will view
And to those axioms, their memories will be a slave,
Those men will be remembered by their past deeds
Long after, they are dead and gone
Then their stories will grow wild, like garden weeds
As their past deeds will live and linger on,
They will be remembered long after they are dead
By the exploits they did while they were living
As one good act alone won't lead to a good life led
And they cannot erase those sins, and the misgiving,
So I will say this before I will enter my grave
With the life that I am living, just and true
I want to be thought of with the righteous and the brave
And I don't want to be remembered, by the evils some men do.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Devil's Call

the greatest spy of life is the inner passion
of desire that lives within every one's heart,
the captives that sacrifice the chance to escape
from the bondage of slavery of freedom
between good and bad of life

many times the vulture consume my body and
break every inch of my bones though I know
this worthless taste is nothing to believe than a
reality to come in my day of reckoning

time is just a theft of fashionable wanting of
what is today to touch, leaving all behind the
value of what meant to be happy at this very
moment, a matter of doing of which is not the
will of the heart

a deliverance of own death to the hands which
the soul wish not to deny the existence of
immortality of eternal life, all are just a spy of the
heaven above to where the distance is near to
come

whisper as you call, for the devil's voice lives
in every wish your heart enjoy, be dumped, for
the tongue sweeten the lies of the Devil sweat,
and brings the soul to believe the power of
joy in every suicidal heart that waits its answer
of what is dying of mercy in your life

always be steadfastly awake for the Devil's call
lives just a little a part from each wanting heart

poem by Antonio Liao
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