Exposed Fangs
When any novelty begins to overstay its visit,
The joy of having it around...
Quickly becomes,
An abusive attempt to get rid of it.
Especially if a tune sung changes in key.
People expect the wounds they've picked,
To be healed overnight...
By someone declaring to have a remedy.
And a cure producing miracles many can see,
With lightening speed that allows a return to routines.
But if it becomes suggested,
An assistance from them is expected...
What is welcomed begins to irritate.
With a pouting that makes once smiling faces,
Drip foam from exposed fangs all over the place.
No one wants to be told,
They must pay a price to heal.
Fresh faces prepared to replace the old,
Will never admit what has been omitted...
From their enthusiastic speeches given to later reveal,
The unpleasantness in making unpopular decisons.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
If One Smiling Looks out of Place
Why do you smile now all the time?
It looks out of place.
Especially around those,
Adorning exposed frowns on their faces.
'I've found a different approach to reveal my bitterness.
I have discovered this way expresses my agitation.
And if anyone is offended,
They would have to ask themselves why this offends? '
It does not offend as much as it just looks out of place.
'Well...
Don't you think that is a sad commentary to make?
If one smiling looks out of place...
That should irritate everyone as to what it is they find important.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Journey
when you can look
in the mirror,
and see your self naked
without running like hell...
the journey begins!
when you can look
at your every action,
judging your self honestly
by motive and intent...
the journey begins!
when you can give away
all that you cling to
without asking for anything
in return...
the journey begins!
when you can do the right thing
irregardless of the cost,
not caring what anyone says
or thinks...
the journey begins!
when you can see the faces
of God in the people you
despise the most, the ones
who've hurt you the most...
the journey begins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hoodwinked To Be Used
Divisions and indecisions,
Blatant and admitted.
Does not heal with a mending wished,
By those who claim they represent...
The best reflection of a people's interests.
Aging routines used to demean and defeat,
Only leaves a taste of bitterness...
With a craving for more it,
Obviously seen.
And that which cracks and falls apart,
Has proven to be cost effective...
For those making their quick dashes,
With hopes to lay the blame on those...
To exit fast from trash they've left exposed.
Aging routines used to demean and defeat,
Only leaves a taste of bitterness...
With a craving for more it,
Obviously seen...
On faces expected to clean up these scenes.
Unbelieving they've been hoodwinked to be used.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
They Too Can Make Thunder Roll
Once it is observed,
And perceived to be easy...
Everyone begins making claims,
They too can make thunder roll.
Lightening strike.
And make snowballs in 80 degree heat.
Everyone wants to shine,
If it means taking less time...
To learn how to do it.
They wish to solicit an assistance,
To reach heights!
With a minimal amount of require effort.
Once it is observed,
And perceived to be easy...
Everyone begins making claims,
They too can make thunder roll.
Lightening strike.
And make snowballs in 80 degree heat.
Everyone believes,
A success achieved can be wished.
While a sitting back to do nothing,
Is a prerequisite.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When the Pain Begun Begins to Mend
When the pain begun begins to mend,
The sky is brighter.
The clouds then start to drift.
The rain dries and the thunder stops.
When the pain begun begins to mend,
A freshness occurs.
The Sun invites a rendezvous.
Just to sit with it,
And feel...
A soothing come over you.
When the pain begun begins to mend,
And you are there...
Ready to be healed,
Feeling a once broken heart...
Being pieced back together,
Completely.
When the pain begun begins to mend,
You are prepared to forget.
Wanting to forgive.
And wishing to be forgiven.
When the pain begun begins to mend!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hypnotism At Its Best
Some will say,
There is no magic...
In the tragedy of things.
However...
I beg to differ with this assessment.
Yes!
It seems that the tragedy has occurred,
Under the noses of everyone.
And no one will admit to noticing anything.
If that is not magic,
I don't know what else is.
And to have everyone awakening,
To what has been there staring in their faces.
Declaring they did not see what has been observed?
While others they have shunned to ostracize,
Have been pointing these observations out for years?
This is hypnotism at its best as seen reflected.
And 'now' people are protesting,
What they had digested to accept.
To declare themselves unwilling victims?
Who amongst 'them' has implemented this brilliance?
And...
To get everyone's focus on pointless rascist issues?
Tragic has been this magic.
Brilliant in its deception.
And hypnotism at its best.
Now will those awakening take steps,
To mend to heal from their self inflicted wounds?
Or...
Will they continue to accuse each other for being human?
Once this has been noticed to be seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
See All Her Faces
(jim stratton / alexander ryan)
Here she comes
Here she comes
Ribbons flying from her half-forgotten hair
Look at her run
See what the world and love have done
See all her faces
See all her faces
Look in my eyes
That she is me
I cant disguise
See all her faces
Ah, ha, see all her faces
Im looking for someone
Of the gentle kind
Knowing that looks can lie
Looking for someone
Is he there to find?
Or should I run on by, ah, ha
Here she comes
Here she comes
Shadows sadly chasing
Every step she takes
Look at her now
She needs love so much more somehow
See all her faces
See all her faces
Look at my life
The wasted years
Each a knife
See all her faces, ah-ha
See all her faces
Waiting for someone
Who will set me free
Passing the time too fast
Waiting for someone
Is that where hell be?
Or should I run right past? , hmm
There she goes
There she goes
Somehow making me and all her faces sad, oh, oh
Ba, da, ba, da, ba, da, ba, da......
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Imprisoned
Imprisoned.
By something.
If I was committed to another,
You would express more interest.
If I told you I was not...
You would want to know why.
And If I lied,
You'd find me more attractive.
If I dared to be honest...
You would become suspicous.
Taking that to represent,
A directness...
In your mind you'd resent.
And that is not what I would present.
Imprisoned.
By something.
The fear of rejection.
Or too close of an inspection.
The smothering of love done by another.
Or the lack of the expression of it.
Wanting to be alone,
After declaring the wish for more space.
And when that is given...
One begins to feel imprisoned,
By doubt.
Or something not figured out!
Something faced...
One wishes to quickly replace.
Or erased to wish back again.
To leave one feeling a need,
Of some kind of belonging that entraps.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Thin Threading Done
Desperate measures taken,
To improve what one has neglected...
Only reflects upon one's incompetence,
One has refused to accept...
In the strictest of a private confidence.
And a downward spiral,
That begins to gather steam...
Makes the blaming and excuses done,
Show one who lacks in self esteem.
Yet if nothing at all is done,
Chaos and confusion is then welcomed.
And when a fabric once tightened,
Appearing as one cohesive scene...
Begins to unravel,
To expose a thin threading done of its seams...
Divisions created can not replace,
A complete and total reconfiguration...
Of what took years to admire,
But updated to appear as a second rated fake.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Professor Slamdunk
In those lands we've discussed,
Where people grow older...
But not 'up'.
Minds that do become wisened in time,
Are stuck...
If choosing to live in such environments.
People restricted to limits are convinced,
Their immature activities make sense.
And going through the motions,
Inflicted upon them by traditional routines...
Become as ritualized duties,
That leaves them unthreatened...
Yet suspicious of a thought process,
Not authorized by someone selected.
Impressed by those they respect who suppress.
With an oppressing done that beats their brows.
And,
Of course...
Denials run rampant,
To protect the ignorant.
'Whew!
Professor Slamdunk,
May we request a timeout?
You are all up in our faces,
With these shots you've taken!
And we need a breather to regroup.'
What's the matter?
I didn't select this field trip.
All of you decided,
To travel into this neck of the woods!
Who warned you that the heat would be hot?
And I,
Hopefully...
Delivered what the team expected!
You suggested something provocative,
And off the beatened path.
Well...
I am only here to give those requests,
Whenever the need arises.
You get two minutes that's it.
I'm not here to distribute handicaps,
For excuses to make.
Or issue tissue for tears.
Who warned you that the heat would be hot?
And I may be referring to 'Miami'.
So stay on your toes.
You suggested something provocative,
And off the beatened path.
Well...
I am only here to give those requests,
Whenever the need arises.
At least you will be exposed to alternatives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Faces
Key:-a - anita r - ray
A: look around you
What do those faces tell you?
R: faces, joy and pain
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: people, people all over town
Some of them are poor and others wear a crown
Ive seen alot of many faces
Joy and pain in different places
Open your mind, set yourself free
Figure it out, what could it be?
Sympathise, understand
Give love and peace to the other fellow man
A: faces
R: faces, joy and pain
A: look around you
Do you see those faces
What do those faces tell you
A: everywhere I go, different faces I see
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: playing with your life, playing with your soul
You all scream out Im the one in control
Killing of the colours, silly stupid games
You know who you are without no names
Dont mess the world cause that the sequal
Open your mind cause we talking about the people
In the world, all kind of places
Different races, different faces
A: different faces
Everywhere
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Unrequited Love
In between another heartache faked.
It can be seen and felt although not faced.
But too proud to admit of unrequited love.
Nothing reciprocated from it can be claim...
But pain!
In between lips unkissed and missed.
With a proclamation of strength...
As tears drip from eyes like a typhoon,
Has hit an unexpected wall of sobs.
Someone has been robbed of a trusting job held.
Remembering the region of the Philippines.
Or the China sea.
And the cyclone winds dramatized...
To validate images created,
To compare with the whirlwind within.
In between another heartache faked.
It can be seen and felt.
But too proud to admit of unrequited love.
Nothing reciprocated from it can be claim...
But pain!
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
Again.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
But...
Too proud am I to admit of,
Unrequited love.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
Again.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
But...
Too proud am I to admit of,
Unrequited love.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Those Days One Prays
When one prays,
A seeking from the outside...
Begins within!
To identify miracles,
One must sit in a quietness...
That has come to visit upon request.
When one prays...
The mind should be at rest.
When one prays,
A thankfulness should be first expressed.
With an appreciation for those blessings,
One sometimes ignores but gets!
When one prays.
When one prays,
A seeking from the outside...
Begins within!
To identify miracles,
One must sit in a quietness...
That has come to visit upon request.
When one prays...
The mind should be at rest.
With a confession professed,
As a thankfulness one expresses.
On those days one prays.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Trunks Of Pain
Under different masks their faces are hidden
With different colors their faces are drawn
As my dearest ones they're known
Ah dearest ones still my heart with your love is drawn
While I forgive
While I forget
I deny to see the facts
Though I know colored are their faces
Yet they are as precious as my pride
Those who were like my breathe
Took away my heart beat
They were most savage
Most unfair
They made me learn what's the meaning of the pain
How it hurts
How long it lasts
Sometimes never ends
Even when the wounds are healed
The pain overcomes again and again
The memory of pain
Always hurts the same
With the changing of the seasons memories come my way
They gave me trunks of pain
And told me hold on to your pain
That's your destiny
You don't have the right to suffer of your pain
You don't have the right to complain
Hold on to your pain.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Black Curtain
They walk with the black curtain over their faces
They gather others with the pain it leaves behind
The people live in darkness nothing in their minds
Their faces are blank no expresion no feeling
Those who have seen know what it does
Those who know weep in solitude and sorrow
They don't look forward to today or tomorrow
They know everything yet they know nothing
The peoples skin all white and sickened
Their voices a raspy mist
All they look for all they long for is peace and bliss
Their cloths worn and tattered
They know there is no cure
They know there is no hope, no place for them to rest
For they know they will soon be one less
They know there is no cure they know they will rot away
They walk through this aweful place
With dread and dispare
Everyone knows, and try not to stare
Yet it is so hard to sheild your eyes, to hold back the tears
The black curtain lays over their eyes
The cloth that shall never be lifted
For it is too far they have drifted
The curtain falls over their faces
The darkness sets in
They know the time has come for them to leave this place
There is no expresion on their faces
As the curtian and sickness leaves
They will suffer no more
They will go home
And will never be alone
For the curtain is lifted and they are in the light once more
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
None of That Sounded Like Sex to Me
~Noticing begins to open the mind.
Much like what Sunrise does upon the horizon...
When its light etches the darkness away from night,
With definition seen to highlight one's assisted vision.
And the brighter that light becomes,
An object begins to develop identity and cast a shadow.
As if attached to aid its meaning.
However...
When those clouds come,
And sometimes they do.
Expect some confusion to be done.
Since it will be difficult to determine,
If it will rain.
And...
That just may happen with or without lightening.
And/or no doubt with thunder.~
'With or without...
And slash or no doubt?
Don't they mean almost the same thing? '
~Huh?
What are you talking about? ~
'The lightening and thunder...
If it should come with clouds? '
~WHAT?
What does lightening and thunder have to do with it?
You kids don't listen with your ears or pay attention.
I'm talking about the birth of comprehension.
None of that has to do with lightening.
Maybe a bit of 'thunder' but rarely with lightening.~
'The birth of what?
None of that sounded like sex to me.'
~Your Honor...
If I may have a few words in my defense.
I need to explain why I stand before you today.
You see...
One of us had to be locked up.
So I knew If I 'tried' to knock some sense in his head...
It would be me found guilty! ~
'And Daddy...
That's why it's hard to listen to you at times.
Because you jump from subject to subject!
AND...
Don't worry about going to prison.
I'm going to volunteer to runaway.'
~When? How soon?
You need some money?
How much? ~
'See. See?
That's exactly what I'm talking about.
You're always joking.'
~Son...
Please take me seriously.
That's all I ask.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Backfire
It only begins to hurt those,
Who applied misdeeds...
'Now' feeling themselves bleeding.
It only begins to hurt...
When the dirt unearths,
To reveal a stinging pain.
It only begins then...
To remove the shadows,
They've cloaked themselves within.
It only begins to hurt those,
Who applied misdeeds...
Far worse than those,
They have manipulated and deceived!
And when pain is felt like that...
A haunting from it,
Will not relieve!
The suffering torments,
And from them does not leave!
Inflicting tragedies on others...
Backfires upon them relentlessly.
Exposing their darkened ways that crushes!
With a burden they bare eternally to carry.
And there is no escaping.
What has been wished upon others,
Without a consciousness...
Comes to arrest them as they attempt to sleep.
And 'that' they no longer can do successfully!
A backfire unexpected visits.
Mentally squeezing any comforts from them known.
Increasingly as they continue to breathe!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Those Who Leave First Really Leave Us
let us start with an empty bed
they leave us
warmth there
one that has
heat in our palms
so hard to forgo
to forget
and they leave us
black and white
pictures of their
faces, not ghostly
but lovely faces
of those we still
love
they never want
to leave us
in the first place
they really want
to stay, but they
were taken just
the same
and that makes
us sadder really
then the cabinet
where their clothes
are: silent and you
smell them and closer
closer you touch them
and feel them in
your heart: pain seeps
a little closer
and then you walk
through the door that
you just closed and the
windows that still refused
to admit the fresh air
in the morning: you are
still mourning in black
and not talking much
and on and on
to the backyard the flowers
wilting and to the comfort room
where their sweats still
linger: figments of mildew
sketches of their faces
still there
some finger
prints on the mirror when
they were still brushing
their teeth
after all these
we ask again
what are these people really leaving us?
come to think of it
they are still here and they haven't really
left us yet
the love is still in our hearts
come to think about all these again
is there really leaving?
i guess, there is none because for a person
who really loves
no one leaves
everyone stays together like eternity
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Anodyne
Unmasked inside,
we play the games of a torch
the living legend,
great beauty of dirty thoughts.
A twin drama unfolds.
the icon burns and a wealth
of praise drowns the priest.
Now death dance begins.
Neither immersion nor
the float ends the relationship.
The hunger leaps
to death from top floor.
Life is ripped apart.
The swarm of vultures descends,
mating of news begins.
The anodyne is spread on the wounds.
Room to room,
the liquidation begins; of faces, of spots.
A cruel joke is repeated
every day relentlessly,
I wait for the transformation of beginning,
of the ending.
The light to fade and
god to taste like a hot bun.
The dangling doors must close,
for a while to motivate the dreams.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The speech of the world/Govor svijeta
At sunset when cities dive
into the wells made silent by faces
there begins the creation of the world
The sky of sparkling stars
written by Chaos onto the blackness
the emnrace of the midnight swallows
whatever is made silent by the faces
there begins the longing of the world
The first whispers burning at dawn
beyond the streams of wonder
encaged images are set free
being made silent by faces
within the light
there begins the speech of the world
Govor svijeta
U predvecerja kad gradovi utihnu
u bezdane sto ih je licem cutati
pocinje stvaranje svijeta
nebo rasprslih zvijezda
na crnom ispisuje haos
rasirenih ruku ponoc guta
sto licem je cutati
pocinje teznja svijeta
Zorom usplamtjeli prvi zamori
nad potocima cudjenja
iz kaveza izlaze slike
sto ih je licem cutati
na svjetlosti
pocinje govor svijeta
2007.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!