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Dinky Stinks

With all of their 'intelligence'
Little of it is spent...
In a display of common sense.
And 'whatever' they display...
None of it makes sense anyway!

Why is it they believe,
Most people aren't aware,
And many of those who are aware...
Protect it from them,
With such absolute care?

And those who pretend,
It is 'all' about them...
Think without them we would sink!
Or be brought to the brink!
But strip them of their trinkets...
They are just dinky stinks!
And as soon as their turmoil,
Is removed from the air...
This atmosphere,
Will begin to quickly clear!

'Whew...
Stay away.
You need to pray.
Everyday!
But...way over there.
No! Not here.
And not just on Sunday! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Common sense invents and constructs no less than its own field than science does in its domain. It is, however, in the nature of common sense not to be aware of this situation.

quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Common Sense Is Missing

Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!

Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!

And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!

And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Kids Are Something Else Today

Why are you rambling?

'Why is that your concern? '

It isn't.
Although I am aware you make no sense.

'That's why it is called rambling.
I'm not trying to make any sense.'

You should.
Do you know how many people today,
Make no sense at all?

'No.
But I'm sure you do?
Come to think of it,
There is one fool...
Who begs to be cussed out.
Right now! '

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to offend.
I'm just curious that's all.

'Oh...
I aint talking about you.
I'm talking about that kid over there,
Trying to break into my car.'

I don't believe it!
That's my son.
We're shopping for new videos.
He's good with his hands.
He wants to be a mechanic.
These kids are something else today,
Aren't they?

'What are you going to say to him? '

What do you want me to say?
He never pays me any attention.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Making sense

No sense in it if you act non-sense
People may push you away with sense
You may think why people are utterly non-sense?
When you are perfectly ok and act wit sense

You may fail in your love attempts
Some thing may force you or to act prompt
Still you act with sense and avoid
You may face difficulties which are self maid

You may act wise with change of scene
Gentleman like approach when publicly seen
Is it not the humanly act minus sin?
When one tries to project what he has been?

What comes to your help or rescue?
You may be wondering without any clue
You may blink and face may turn blue
When projection makes no sense for you

Sense is third eye for human being
Timely act may make him king
Opponent may face defeat in the ring
You may survive……………..

What, if nothing suggests or paves the way?
Your voice may not be heard or have the say
You may stick to position and bat for long
Still it makes sense that you are not always wrong

You will know what lies ahead?
Common sense may stop you to be mislead
So even if you are worried or so tense
You may act wise and come out with sense

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Implemented Craziness

It seems as though the more I age,
The less I care about those who address pettiness.
And their hollowed professed confessions...
Of having beliefs in God.
And afraid to step out on their faith.
What sense does that make?

People 'say' they pray for peace!
And as soon as they are 'released'
From their places of worship...
I overhear them passing judgements.
And condoning needless wars.

People 'say' they pray for unity,
And brotherhood.
And in most neighborhoods,
There is conflict of some kind.

People 'say' they pray for racial equality.
As long as they are made to feel superior,
Over others of color.
And they are restricted from a quality of life,
That is diminishing rapidly in quality...
And those 'values' they uphold,
Are materialistic and has devastated the economy!

It seems as though the more I age,
The less I care about those who address pettiness.
And their hollowed professed confessions...
Of having beliefs in God.
And afraid to step out on their faith.
What sense does that make?

It seems as though the more I age,
Those who take offense
To an obvious display of implemented craziness,
Are quicker to defend this mess...
As if it is tradition.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Riches Are Hand-Me-Down

If looks and appearance,
Were an indicator that ensured one's wisdom...
There would be very few,
Suited and tied with careful images...
Dressed to impress.

There is a difference between,
Researching with studying to produce an effect.
Than having an ability to quickly purchase,
An etiquette to reproduce an elegance...
That is far removed from an intelligence...
Assumed to be obtained but nonexistent.

And when riches are hand-me-down,
Homelessness and poverty...
Gives a boost to those who believe,
Everything they have has been earned...
Like others reflecting their quality of life,
With a doing of it to be amongst the thieves.
And concentrating on this...
Can be interpreted as having intelligence.
But common sense is rarely an ingredient in the mix.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mind Fed Rituals

When determined people,
Pray to God to have their way...
And God sends to them messengers,
To scream from bullhorns...
This is not going to happen.

Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.

Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.

People like this will make their mission,
To enlist others to value their point of view.
Even to select and depict those unknowing,
They have been chosen as culprits...
By someone who did not like,
How they were told...
To remove their rose colored glasses!

Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.

Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
And the 'spiritual' side of it...
Is a routine of mind fed rituals,
Outdated by a lack indepth perception.

Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
A common sense for many,
That has been diluted.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Least Pretend We Are Aware

Aching to close the shutters.
The view outside holds less surprises.
Although the Sun is shining bright...
The faces reflect,
A lost appetite for joy!
They seem to have no cheer on them...
Without the appearance of new 'things'
Near!
Or something quick...
To surround themselves to begin,
Then set aside and forget!

And it has not been made clear,
To them at all.
It was never what they had,
But who they were with it.
And without those 'things'...
Isn't the Sun still going to shine?
If 'it' did not...
We would also stop existing!
I 'think' there is 'something' far greater,
We should be thankful for!
Or at least 'pretend' we are aware of IT!
Since I 'sense' IT feels ignored!
AND...
IT has the power to close 'all' doors,
Permanently!
Like giving 'that' a forever status!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is no longer as common as it use to be

In times when forgetting is instant.
And encouraged.
There are still some places,
In which to have a good memory poses a threat.
People with them are disrespected.

Only those who stay angry for the pettiest of reasons,
Are the ones who can claim those reasons...
To be what they say they are,
Without anyone disagreeing or caring why they are angry.

And making sense?
It is no longer as common as it use to be.
Therefore,
Very few pretend to know what it is to pretend they have it.
While those who pretend seem to impress with their imaginations,
More and more people as deceit becomes the rage.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Me Or Leave

Take me or leave,
Where found upon your discovery.
Emotions quickly rushing to attach...
I have been through that,
With far less teasing.

Take me or leave,
Without a display of interest...
With lingering eye contact.
Nothing about it can again entrap.
Unless you reveal a true feeling of affection.

Too old am I getting,
For a slow process of baiting.
Too aware of my senses,
To allow them to dance unconvinced.
And sitting on a fence in suspense,
No longer satisfies an anticipation.

Take me or leave,
Without a display of interest...
With lingering eye contact.
Nothing about it can again entrap.
Unless you reveal a true feeling of affection.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Saw Red

Sublime-Robbin' The Hood
Saw Red
Girls don't go crazy
Woman, hold your man tight
Every day I love him just a little bit more,
a little bit more, a little bit more
Everyday I love him just a little bit more
and he loves me the same
Every day I love her just a little bit more,
a little bit more, little bit more
Everyday I love her just a little bit more
and she loves me the same
Baby if you wanna get on
Oh baby if you wanna get off
It makes no sense at all
I saw red
I saw red, I saw red, one more sacred lover that
I shot dead
Everyday I wake up just a little bit more
feelin' like a dog out on the yard
because that's just how we are
Everyday I wonder if it's over
when I wake up realizin' that we hate
and brake down the war
You say it's black, but I can't believe you
And if you say it's white,
you say I'm tryin to deceive you
and I'm aware of the high and the low,
and I'd be waiting for you in the middle but I just lack control
Baby if you wanna get low
Oh baby if you wanna get high
It makes no sense at all
I saw red
I saw red, I saw red, one more sacred lover that
I shot dead
Girls, don't go crazy,
Girls, don't go crazy,
Oh girls, don't go crazy when the men use you, oh
Oh, woman hold your man tight
if it makes you feel right, it's your own life

song performed by by Sublime
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bride and groom

With wonder and joy, like two gods
they are smitten with each other
at the new discoveries
of body, of soul and of happiness,
as they are the first to find
each other in this way

sprawling together, they get more intimate,
more intense, but with full sense
and while the days draw out
stretching in length
they take infinite care,

to be aware of each other,
in every detail and need
with every sense
as if tomorrow this feelings
may be lost.

poem by Gert Strydom
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It Isn't Melting Is It?

I don't try to hide who I am...
Because some say I must!
To secure employment?
Surrounded by those
Who hold onto a certain distrust!
I'm not here trying to disguise
An identity I pride!
I am black!
Damnit!
And that's a fact!
With an aware acceptance
That I truly pride!

Those who are not like me...
Try all their lives to defend.
A connection they have,
With the color of their skin!
That IS them!
That is NOT me!

I am proud of who I am.
I don't walk around insecure...
Because I'm not greeted with smiles
Or grins!
I am very comfortable to announce too,
If those conversations begin!
But many today are casting that nonsense away!
By getting things done...
And letting that petty BS end!
It's ignorant when that comes from someone!

Oh...
Yes! To answer your question.
I will still have a slice of the German Chocolate Cake,
With the vanilla icecream topping!
It isn't melting is it?

'No sir, it is not!
And we all appreciate
Your assessment of race relations!
However some of the people in your party,
Are looking a little annoyed.
And I don't think it's the roast beef on the buffét.
We do have others to serve in line, sir! '

And I'm not aware of that! ?
I just wanted to make a 'few' observations!
No need for a display of testiness!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saw Red

Girls dont go crazy
Woman, hold your man tight
Every day I love him just a little bit more,
A little bit more, a little bit more
Everyday I love him just a little bit more
And he loves me the same
Every day I love her just a little bit more,
A little bit more, little bit more
Everyday I love her just a little bit more
And she loves me the same
Baby if you wanna get on
Oh baby if you wanna get off
It makes no sense at all
I saw red
I saw red, I saw red, one more sacred lover that
I shot dead
Everyday I wake up just a little bit more
Feelin like a dog out on the yard
Because thats just how we are
Everyday I wonder if its over
When I wake up realizin that we hate
And brake down the war
You say its black, but I cant believe you
And if you say its white,
You say Im tryin to deceive you
And Im aware of the high and the low,
And Id be waiting for you in the middle but I just lack control
Baby if you wanna get low
Oh baby if you wanna get high
It makes no sense at all
I saw red
I saw red, I saw red, one more sacred lover that
I shot dead
Girls, dont go crazy,
Girls, dont go crazy,
Oh girls, dont go crazy when the men use you, oh
Oh, woman hold your man tight
If it makes you feel right, its your own life

song performed by by Sublime
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Big Bang

They had waited on blankets, in cars,
to view the Chrysanthemum stars.
Instead of a pyrotechnic display,
The authorities sent them away.
A brief blast of frightening power
consumed at once many a flower.
It appears a computer malfunction
was the cause of the mini eruption.
The engineered boom had gone bust.
Makes you wonder- now who can you trust?
In the desert that night 'neath the stars
Jupiter, Venus and Mars
put on their free, nightly, display.
People on blankets, in cars
very seldom look up to the stars.
There a bowlful of wonder and light
goes sight unseen most every night.
The gift of a child's sense of wonder
goes unwrapped by these mortals down under.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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From A Through Z

Any emotion you want.
Anything read you'd like to experience,
And/or see!
I've got it here for you...
From A...all the way through to Z!
I've been watching you,
And you have had your eye on me.
You should know I enjoy to thrill your mind...
With something you can find,
For these days and times!

You like to eat?
I've got recipes.
Suspense?
I have a few 'pieces' that will tease.
What about sex and violence?
The most disgusting of those,
Of these will please!

Are you into the church,
And love to pray?
I love God myself...
And I pray everyday!
How about just silly stuff,
That makes no sense at all?
I have a sense of humor...
Sometimes I laugh until onto the floor I crawl!

Sweet love poems about broken hearts?
Some of my best,
Have left my keyboard wet!
Trying to write tearjerkers takes a lot of sweat!
Writing that stuff ain't easy!

Seasonal outlooks and holiday greetings?
I love the freshness of Spring.
Summer activities...
And Fall and Winter scenes!
And in New England?
What majestical offerings these seasons bring!
A tasty treat of eyepoppers.

I've got conflicts and gossip and pointless war.
With racist visions too!
If you those you choose to explore.
And children's lullabys with topics to make you cry!
Whatever you decide,
And whatever it may be.

I wish to please with an understanding.
And from A through Z...
I hope you will find 'something' there.
Something you weren't aware of...
That now makes you see.
And turn your frown into a smile...
With a touch of happiness,
And perhaps some glee!

I'd like to share with you my understanding!
Not necessarily have you agree,
With me...
At all!
But,
I am hopeful!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calculated With 'Come-Hither' Stares

Aligning and finding the mind is attached,
To that Great One who knows...
All that we sow and reap to adapt,
More than we should carry on our backs.
But...
We do because it is what 'we' choose.
Believing our shoulders are for this to be used.
The Great One has nothing to do with that!

Learn to remove those unconscious traps.
Calculated with 'come-hither' stares,
Alluring to seduce with temptations to induce...
Senses of despair to bear,
More than we should carry on our backs.
But do because it is what 'we' choose.
The Great One has nothing to do with that!

Be aware,
Of those calculated with 'come-hither' stares.
Be aware of them.
Be aware of them.
Be aware.

Be aware,
Of those calculated with 'come-hither' stares.
Be aware of them.
Be aware of them.
Be aware!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When all previous loves are lost

When all previous loves are lost
and I hesitate about the sense of my existence,
I become aware about the fatality of life

while time passes me too quickly
and in the darkness I am alone
and I hesitate about the sense of my existence

and at times it feels as if I am the only one
on this planet, as if the loss of intimacy
folds night after night around me and in the darkness I am alone,

the night gets a own reality, my own actuality
as if only I am isolated
on this planet, as if the loss of intimacy

lets me wonder over being human and about God,
without being able to embrace anybody
as if only I am isolated

still holding stunned to hope.
When all previous loves are lost
without being able to embrace anybody
I become aware about the fatality of life.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Championship Games

Intelligence?
That has been outlawed
With common sense,
And accountability...
Years ago!
Who are you?
Are you looking for that here?
Those refunds have long been spent!
You might want to try the next town over.
These folks are still discussing the last
Championship games!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Market Of Ideas...

in the market there are good apples,
luscious ones and we buy them and we do not regret
the money that we part with,

there are rotten ones, who buys them must be fools

ditto with our creations,
we think what we make are the best
in the market of ideas
we rely on the proof of the goodness when others begin to buy
what we display

we think they are best
but look at the flies, look at the the emptiness of the market place
smell the stink,

then we decide not to display at all
we keep what we make as our own
after all, it is ours, and we protect them in our homes
not for sale
but for domestic consumption

we do not wish to compete
we are home now and then we are happier this way.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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