Enjoying the Feast of It
Some write,
Showing an ineptness as an appetite.
Enjoying the feast of it.
Without a nibble digested.
Or a taste of it comprehended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Upon the Table of Fulfilled Wishes
Teach me not to nibble and feed,
On an appetite of my own selfish needs.
I am seeking a new diet,
That inspires a fresh insight.
With a brightness that incites,
A joyous excitement.
Teach me to appreciate all that I am.
Help me reach out to others...
To awaken that view,
Enabling them to see 'that' within them too!
If you've come to teach me greed.
Teach me to crave the gluttony of happiness.
Teach me to instruct others...
Deception is not a taste,
To welcome with an invitation...
At this grand feast to take place!
Teach me not to nibble and feed,
On an appetite of my own selfish needs.
Teach me to know that my happiness and joy...
Can only be fed,
If others are encouraged to also share.
Bringing with them a dish...
To spread upon the table of fulfilled wishes,
In this season of blessings to caress!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gonna Live My Life For The Love Of It
Not gonna deal with the BS no more.
Or with the dirt left at my front door.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
Not gonna fight against ignorance.
Or with conditions that present it.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
Without a bit of blight,
To nibble off a piece of it...
To satisfy my hungered sight!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
And spiced my way,
With a taste I can say is for me...
Done just right!
Not gonna fight against ignorance.
Or with conditions that present it.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
Without a bit of blight,
To nibble off a piece of it!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
With a taste I can say is for me...
Done just right!
No more, no more, no more...
Denying it.
No more, no more, no more...
Refusing it.
No more, no more, no more...
Unhappiness.
Gonna live my life for the love of it.
Today and always.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now I Nibble
Where are my feet?
Once placed on solid ground.
Why am I now unsure of my steps?
When my eyes were directed,
To fresh places I found.
Why do I question,
My place in this World?
Where are those faces...
Once full with life,
I knew!
What has happened overnight,
When I once felt safe and secure...
My dreams and wishes,
Would stay fixed and motivated.
Strong with appetite!
Now I nibble...
When once accustomed to huge bites.
Now I nibble without a taste that delights.
Now I nibble just to keep my eyes,
From shutting tight!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grew To Believe
I did not awaken with dreams to write.
Or decide I was creative.
I awakened each day trying to fight it,
This appetite I had.
Especially when I thought that I had,
Something I should not want to have.
Few people I knew were encouraged to express,
An acceptance of their gifts.
I grew up in the projects.
And those who were 'different' were made to feel it.
Few people I knew were encouraged to express,
A happiness with talents they possessed.
With a gladness from others...
Who did not address an envy with a jealousness.
But a showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
Yes,
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew!
A showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
Yes,
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew,
To believe.
I did not awaken with dreams to write.
Or decide I was creative.
I awakened each day trying to fight it,
This appetite I had.
But...
A showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
Yes,
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew,
To believe.
A showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew,
To believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Want To Know That You Will Munch
If it is going to be from me stated,
Not a syllable connected...
Has been chosen in haste.
I do not intend to waste time.
Neither yours or mine.
Throwing anything together,
To satisfy a taste.
I don't want you just to nibble.
I want to know that you will munch.
If I find there is something important to say,
And I regard you as an important receiver?
I am not going to select anything quickly,
To pick and appease what I believe,
Will be acceptable to your taste.
I am not that kind of chef.
To deliver less than my best
If what I say is important enough to say to you,
That importance I show to you I wish to keep.
I want you to expect each time a feast from me.
And if that is not believed...
I have no other way to convince.
Other than to ignore you.
And I perceive you have been already,
Accustomed to that.
Or you wouldn't be so offended,
By the closeness of my approach.
Or my willingness to remain attached.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nibble
Nibble...
The food and eat...
Nibble..
Food...
Little and little...
For your mouth...
Eat...slow...
Nibble...
Nib ble is
Not tasty bite...
A healthy bite...
For the stomach
With your body...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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My Desperation Fades
My desperation fades,
When my craving for you ends.
My appetite satisfied in small bites...
When I licked my wishes in nibbles.
I could not in patience wait to feast.
I could not...
When I hungered for you to eat.
I could not...
Fast
Or last that long!
I need to taste.
And that temptation was prolonged.
I thought I was strong.
But not having you near.
It became clear what I did was wrong!
I went on and on and on until...
No knocking from you came!
So I did.
My desperation fades,
When my craving for you ends.
My appetite satisfied in small bites...
When I licked my wishes in nibbles.
Exciting myself...
Like I do each night,
Whenever you call to say...
'Perhaps another time?
Perhaps another day? '
I then lay...
Wet!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ineptness
Carry a big stick,
To threaten from a distance.
Send me pictures of it...
To upset me quick,
With visions I'll be hit with it!
But you'll be wrong wrong.
And I'll be long gone!
Foot power...
Zip.
I like buttered biscuits,
Baked and fresh.
Heated from the oven,
And tasting their best!
You can bring that big stick,
To threaten me with it.
But when I've eaten buttered biscuits,
I'm prepared to split.
Humming a song...
With,
Foot power...zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Ineptness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Ballade Of The Average Reader
I try to touch the public taste,
For thus I earn my daily bread.
I try to write what folks will paste
In scrap books after I am dead.
By Public Craving I am led.
(I' sooth, a most despotic leader)
Yet, though I write for Tom and Ned,
I've never seen an average reader.
The Editor is good and chaste,
But says: (Above the public's head;
This is _too_ good; 'twill go to waste.
Write something commonplacer-
Ed.)
Write for the average reader, fed
By pre-digested near-food's feeder,
But though my high ideals have fled,
I've never _seen_ an average reader.
How many lines have been erased!
How many fancies have been shed!
How many failures might be traced
To this-this average-reader dread!
I've seen an average single bed;
I've seen an average garden-weeder;
I've seen an average cotton thread-
I've _never_ seen an average _reader_.
L'ENVOI
Most read of readers, if you've read
The works of any old succeeder,
You know that he, too, must have said:
'I've never seen an Average Reader.'
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Words As a Salad
Think of my words as a salad.
Sometimes it may nourish...
And sometimes it's not wanted,
Or thought to be valid.
I offer a taste of variety.
I don't expect everything sampled,
To have everyone leave pleased!
I'm a gourmet of sorts one might say.
Not a specialist of one dish...
But a cook of assortments on display.
If something is nibbled,
And the bite is not right...
That is the way I feel,
With my changing appetite!
When I prepare and complete a thought,
Sometimes it is revised...
To surprise,
And compliment others previously brought!
But if a word or two offends a point of view...
I'm not expecting you to sit,
In discomfort as you chew.
Unless something digested,
Adds meaning to your purpose.
As it did for me,
Before I exposed it to you...
Hoping you add dressing,
Delighting while you slurp it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only To Nibble A Bit To Then Spit
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
People get use to the familiar.
Although prior to it,
They had settled for the bland.
Until a spicing done to that blandness,
Made more of the spice...
Requested by demand.
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
A rejection of what had been once presented,
Now is refused as mediocrity.
And a closer inspection becomes harsely critiqued.
Critics come out of the woodwork,
To exclaim their findings weak.
And those who plagiarize,
Take credit for their additions done.
But the one who sweats with an innovation...
Never receives a just due that comes!
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
Only to nibble a bit to then spit,
That's it!
As if what is tasted is nothing but garbage.
Especially if a taste of it reminds one of the rest,
That has already bettered the betterment of one's best!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Reciprocate...Without the Need of Words
Sometimes I fail to respond,
To a request that has been made.
Often in my humility,
I'm left with nothing to say.
Or wish within myself,
I could communicate...
Without words to select from.
Or create a debate,
I did not intend.
And then I don't want to offend.
Anyone who is sensitive,
And may not comprehend...
What it is I am feeling then.
Sometimes I fail to respond,
To a request that has been made.
Often in my humility,
I'm left with nothing to say.
And I guess that is why I am blessed to write.
With a craving that feeds my appetite.
And learning from my own experiences,
I have preferences and things I like.
With a hope within me,
One day I might...
Share nibbles and bits of my life,
And to reciprocate...
Without the need of words,
Or one sound made.
And let our eyes just express,
What is digested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Write I Must
To write I am forced,
By an angel, sweet;
My blood fast coursed,
To give a treat.
To my dismay,
I found nought to write;
My mind in disarray,
Is drab downright.
But write, write I must,
For my daughter darling;
Let her savour the crust,
Lest she go starving.
I know her appetite,
This poesy would whet;
So a little bite,
Would not make her fret.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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A Famous Man
he was observing from the
upper part of his terrace
an old woman down the street
eating a ripe mango
without slicing them
using her bare hands
peeling it and sucking
the pulp
savoring every sap
she is enjoying it
she is enjoying it
she is enjoying it
that is what he says
he writes, she is enjoying it
and yet he is so famous
in this city
munching what fame is
there
tailored for him
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Approve With Each Nibble As You Taste It
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
What you choose for you and do,
Feel comfortable and live it.
No one but you can be you but you.
And make that choice to do what you choose.
With a taking of a bite out of life to taste.
Savoring it and enjoying this too!
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
What you choose for you to do,
Feel comfortable and live it.
No one but you can truly approve...
With each nibble as you taste it,
Without limits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Cheap And Cheesy
I am not a garbage creator.
But I do understand,
Those who have a taste for it
May rate it as great.
To satisfy that taste.
And I am far too original
To substitute what I do,
Just to get a cheap nibble or two.
I offer more to the menu,
From which to choose.
But just to throw together garbage
Is not what I choose to do.
That's too cheap and cheesy.
I am a chef.
Not just another cook on the pursuit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bullies On Vacation
A bully enjoying his vacation
Oblivious to all our confrontations
Speaking fondly of his junior years
When I was fighting tears
A bully enjoying his vacation
I can taste the anger and the hate
I have come to set the record straight
Twenty years seems long enough to wait
A bully enjoying his vacation
Cruising with my nemesis on high seas
Five drinks, he doesnt recognize me
Full of anticipation
I dont notice his depression
Cruising with my nemesis on high seas
My act of concern is just to tease
Im about to send him to his knees
So close to force him begging please
He mentions terminal disease
A bully enjoying his vacation
And how he feels someone is dangling
His vile existence on a string
And now the sea hes conquering
Knows he can conquer anything
A bully enjoying his vacation
Aware of his terminal condition
Frustrated by my indecision
Knowing Id regret this very day
I hit him anyway
Aware of his terminal condition
Once again, he got the best of me
I left him conquering the sea
A bully enjoying his vacation
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyday
Everyday...
There is some teasing temptation,
That comes along.
Something craved...
To test how strong,
The urge.
To unnerve any courage,
One believes is in reserve.
Everyday...
It becomes harder,
Just to stay away.
To stray from what is right...
Develops into a struggle,
That seems to delight an inner battle!
And the wrong thing provokes,
To please a 'demon' that jokes.
We trust something valued,
Comes to thrust us to wake up!
Before we take a bite...
To satisfy an increasing appetite!
We try to keep it hidden...
But then,
Everyday...
We try to leave whatever it is untouched.
Something inside of us,
Says it 'wants' very much!
We nibble until it is devoured.
And helplessly we sit...
Regretting every moment,
We allowed ourselves to be licked...
By 'it'!
And everyday that passes.
We try to get over it!
And we do...
To say,
'Never again! '
Until...
We are faced,
With that day...
It becomes easier to pray away,
Those cravings that come we taste.
And enjoy,
Everyday!
To ease away any annoyance,
That has been determined...
Came to be done!
Leaving us with a guilt,
We slowly let subdue us...
But not to completely overcome.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Appetite
I sometimes lose my appetite
and at times eat feverishly.
It's all connected to my outlook,
my emotionality.
For the want of food is augmented
by the peace that comes my way.
But let me see unpleasantness
and I cannot eat that day.
For the juice of a ripened apple
should be sweetened not by taste,
but by the mind that accepts it
and the sugar with which it's laced.
And the bitterness of the lemon
that makes me pucker and grimace
shuts my appetite right down
when my mind has gone amiss.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Glass Walls
Glass walls
Of the candy jar
Showing me the colors
Showing me the shapes
Just showing me...
Glass walls
Of the shopping mall
Showing me the colors
Showing me the shapes
Just showing me..
Glass walls
Of the computer screens
Showing me the colors
Showing me the smiles
Showing me the love
Even telling me... and nudging me...
It is only the glass... I can touch...!
poem by Rowving Smith
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