Every Aspect Of It!
Just because you do not see me driving,
Do not assume I am not licensed to drive.
Or that I do not 'think'...
Because I do not look the part.
You don't see half the things I do and have done.
Nor are you on my agenda.
And folks who focus their sights on others...
Are the first who find these times we live,
Difficult to adjust.
Even though they feel they 'must'...
Demand understanding,
Without participating in the development of it.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
With claims they don't know what is going on!
And rush they do to prevent,
The circumstances of truth.
Coming to bombard and overwhelm.
With the consequences of their ignorance.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
Yet conflict they are quick to define...
Instead of using their minds to take time,
Comprehending remedies.
To set aside a strategy...
To stop the havoc that has begun,
Happening in their own lives.
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
And this kind of mindset today,
Is reflected on a massive scale.
People into minding the business of others...
Have found their business in shambles.
Every aspect of it!
With shock and disbelief,
As a return for their 'investment'!
You know the kind...?
The ears closed, mouth open types!
The ones who rush to cover their butts,
With implusive mindless decisions!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
85
i wish i have a mouth that knows how to speak my love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish I Have A Mouth That Knows How To Speak My Love
i wish i have this kind of mouth that knows to speak
about my love
one that opens so easily and dashes with words like
you know i love you, tell me, do you love me too?
a candid mouth, like a shrew who gambles with words and
will not mind losing
a mouth who kisses your mouth without
shame and if shamed because you slap it
does not bother at all,
one who says, why hide love, why not pour love like a
strong wine to a chalice and let it warm
the glass and let the glass
be nothing but a glass
one that does not mind at all, one that loves and if not loved in
return takes the other possibilities
without regrets
or pain,
the mouth that i have is closed and will not open
afraid
i have kept the words
i love you only for you
like a worm inside my tongue,
wriggling
turning into a little butterfly
that never had the chance to see what is outside
and feel the freedom of air,
yesterday
it died and i keep it for the whole night
now, i spit it out
and my mouth closed again
eating only silence
while you just watch there
asking me
and i said there is nothing to worry
nothing at all
i just don't feel anything and there is nothing
worth saying, i look at you as you go, i hold only to your shadow
and you will never never never know,
this
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is Something Inside My Mouth (2)
there is something singing inside my mouth
but i keep my mouth closed
i decide when shall the opening be
when shall i hear this little thing sing again
in the open
for now i have closed whatever is it that opens
that sings
it is time to mourn
to be silent
to die
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Best To Be Prepared
Just because a mouth is constantly open...
Doesn't mean expectations should be raised,
That anything worthwhile comes out of it.
Would you trust one known to gossip...
With a secret,
You wished not have publicly exist?
Think about it!
Would you rely on someone,
Who has never committed to anything done?
But sit,
To give unsolicited opinions...
As if,
They have knowledge or wisdom you had not witnessed.
When someone like this gives you advice...
Don't be disrespectful by not listening.
Since you never know what is being said...
Will make you think about it more than twice.
Remember...
If you can tolerate BS?
Anything is possible.
Even a confession of ignorance.
I've done it!
And it is refreshing to become 'humblized'!
A process called 'growth' begins.
Just because a mouth is constantly open...
Doesn't mean expectations should be raised,
That anything worthwhile comes out of it.
But then again...
Never lower 'your' expectations,
That something coming out of a mouth like this...
Has not been visited by a thought process.
Connecting one day to make sense!
And you were blessed to have been made a gift of it!
The eyes and ears take over,
When the mouth is closed.
With observation and listening enhanced.
It is best to be prepared...
Anytime, any place, from anyone and anywhere!
Even birds don't fly seeking just a tree to land on.
Nor does wisdom exclusively come from those considered wise!
And 'that' took me a long time to realize,
My depth of comprehension...
Kept adding unto my understanding.
And at times my patience and tolerance I question.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without a Smidgen of Maliciousness
Like most people in the same mindset,
A belief is indoctrinated within them...
That whatever they do and wherever they go,
Their actions and deeds are 'always' correct.
With ears closed and mouths open,
A narrow mentality from them you can expect.
But don't rush to pass judgement on them.
These folks are without a smidgen of maliciousness.
Like all trained pets...
Doing nothing more nor nothing less,
Than what a limited vision accepts.
This is the existence for them that is best.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Your Box
Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Your Box
Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sunday Kind of Woman
I can only imagine for our worlds are far apart
How it would feel to hold this woman mouth to mouth heart to heart
I guess it's a good thing dreaming's free
What would a Sunday kind of woman
A Sunday kind of woman want an everyday man like me.
I've had lots of nightlife women you've seen one you've seen 'em all
And I wake up in the morning and I turn and face the wall
And long for someone special's company
But would a Sunday kind of woman
A Sunday kind of woman love an everyday man like me.
But would a Sunday kind of woman
A Sunday kind of woman love an everyday man like me.
song performed by by Charlie Rich, lyrics by Margaret Ann Rich from Behind Closed Doors (1973)
Submitted by Jeffrey Kosloske
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If You Don't From Them Leave!
When mouths are open and ears are closed...
Walk away from this.
Do not hesitate,
As if waiting for this to change.
Walk away from this.
People have been conditioned and trained,
Not to hear or further listen.
Pieces of what they miss is impatiently dismissed
Walk away from this.
When mouths are open and ears are closed...
People will choose ignorance to expose.
Since they have been conditioned to not listen.
And folks convinced like these...
Will bring you to your knees,
If you don't from them decide you should leave!
If you don't from them leave! ,
You're doomed to grieve.
Minds like these are locked without a key.
Walk away from this.
People have been conditioned and trained,
Not to hear or further listen.
Pieces of what they miss is impatiently dismissed
Walk away from this.
Before your life becomes a misery.
And choose to move and do it instantly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Know That They Don't Know
They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.
They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.
And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!
Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snorkling At Crocodile Island
you jump into the sea
with a wish
to sea the world of the fish
blue and green
and some bubbles
and slimy and slim
and slippery
to hold
you open your eyes
to the world of seaweeds
and sea urchins
you find something different now
the world where you do not utter a word
to describe
if something is beautiful
you find something's shut
up
your ears and nose and mouth
you open your eyes
to the possibility that in the world so beautiful
as inside the sea
you need not have a nose
a mouth, two ears
because beauty need not be said
they can only be
seen
and contemplated upon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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listening to the Heart Sutra in Mandarin
hands on the table
mouth closed
eyes focused on the
blank screen
ears wide open
the mind closes
the heart discloses
another form of joy
in Buddhist chant
my head sways
to the left and right
like a stalk of lotus
caressed by the wind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Minds, Eyes, Ears and 'Dialogue
Making attempts,
To reach back for times...
That should have long been lived,
And put into existence THEN...
Will not do a thing for you 'now'.
And you were told that,
When those times then...
Were behind the times!
Just like a season or a holiday missed,
That has gone...
Think of your mind like that.
Something once here...
But now has gone.
Remember when you were teaching me,
And others a lesson by ignoring our suggestions?
Remember you made it a point to tell your friends,
You wish I'd learned how to mind my business...
And live my life,
Since you knew more about yours?
Well...
You should have seen these days,
We now live.
You and others like you...
Are the only ones asking, 'What is happening? '
Open minds, eyes, ears and 'dialogue'...
Should have revealed that to you!
And you were right...
I have learned to mind my own business.
As The World Turns,
I have One Life To Live...
To remain Bold and Beautiful.
And no more will I be giving my time,
To those who are Young and Restless...
In their minds.
I am not living for that kind of drama!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleep II
She holds a soft cloth over my mouth
Whispers it will be alright-my nostrils burn
Her lips are on mine. Her embrace is so close,
Massive, dark as every dark, heavy with the weight of all things.
I am born down and down, ears,
Nostrils, throat, into each orifice she runs
Like the sea into the ruins of an antique city,
Eddies in my belly, relaxes my limbs,
Her ckeek is not rough, her hair smooth and mink-like.
I can see her heavy-lidded, half-closed eyes
My eyelids fall shut, my mouth falls open
My tongue falls to the back of my throat, everything falls,
I do not want her. I regret my huge obligation
Yet it is good to be held so, immobilized,
But strangely free to range, the night is for us.
What shall...
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Ears Don't Listen and Eyes Don't See
why we have two ears that can't be naturally closed
but we less listening than talking
why we have one mouth that technically is not locked
but we speak nothing less than complaint
why we have two hands that carved beautifully
but we use it to hurt someone we love
why we have two eyes that sparkling wide
but you only look at me from one side
are your hands made to close your ears
and your eyes are blind to see damage
are your hands made to lock your mouth
and you are scared to accept truth
why we have two legs that walk graciously
but you always step away from me when I try to get closer
why we have one heart that we keep sacredly
but we can't control to whom it belongs
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For about seven years. I really like it there. There are a lot of great musicians. The scene is very open. A lot of stuff going on. People's ears are really open, they are not closed. A lot of scenes here, people just get tunnel vision and are into one thing.
Without My Interference
Very early I was given one choice...
To listen.
OR...
Suffer through the consequences.
Of course,
I knew those consequences well.
With bruises on my head,
From knocking it up against brick walls.
But that was then.
Not only have I learned to listen...
I now have learned to pay attention.
With less from my mouth going out.
And more with my eyes and ears open,
To receive and allow what is coming in...
To make its own sense without my interference.
To learn 'something' I had not learned before.
And you know...
It is amazing how this works,
To obtain comprehension.
Who knew this approach,
Leads to a quickened understanding?
Who knew that's how this happens?
I still find myself scratching my head in disbelief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kalt
He spoke to me on a hill
My ears ringing with his voice
I had to make a choice
To hold the truth, or to spill
The barrel of the gun to my head
I tremble, eyes closed, mouth quivers
The air is cold, I have the shivers
I knew, he wanted me dead
I clench my eyes, tears pull away
His voice lowers, no louder than the wind
He knows I have sinned
There's nothing left to say
I open my eyes, the gun in my hand
The man is gone, like time in the sand
poem by Matthew Peel
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My Contention
My mouth is blocked,
My eyes are blindfolded and
My ears are closed.
But it is my contention
Perhaps mine alone…
Nobody is there with an ear that hears,
Nobody does anything that I can see and
Nobody says that I have to hear.
I too live a life of yours.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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