For Comments and Judgements
'This'...
Does not come as quick.
As picking up a pen.
To think of something that begins.
'This' is not how this 'process'
In the mind enters in!
'This'...
Some say is a gift.
Many with it,
Receive.
It is much more than collecting words,
And connecting then to sentences to breathe.
Becoming relieved...
While an ego is pleased.
'This'...
Comes as if,
Nothing else matters in the world.
A consciousness cleared is fed.
And the creator of 'this' is led.
And like all of those who read 'it'...
It amazes the writer too!
The outcome does not start as it begins.
And an explanation of 'this'...
May be attempted,
But that is hard to do!
'This'...
Does not come as quick,
As preparing a sandwich...
With mustard and mayo on fingers to lick!
'This' somehow knows when it is ready...
For the comments and judgements,
Of those who are critics!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When a Consciousness Begins to Lift
When a consciousness begins to lift...
To leave behind foolishness that exists.
There seems to be an acceptance of it.
As if one realizes,
A birth has been committed.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
A release of limitations,
Easily takes a shift.
No longer is one concerned,
About winning conflicts with enemies burned.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It becomes easier to observe,
Those disturbed and their afflictions addicted.
Enjoyed and unrestricted.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It is best to rest.
And let it accept the truth,
That comes with it.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Expect a shock and some loneliness.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Those experiencing this,
Are left to feel estranged!
Alienated,
From that...
Which one had thought,
Was sane!
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Enjoy it as a gift.
Unveiling an abundance of understanding.
Connecting a peace that can be reached.
With a wish to share and treat.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
From those taught they should live,
With lives accepted in self defeat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sea Of Words
he could have gone to the sea
and start collecting the shells again
bring each to his ear
to remember
he is stuck in this sea of words
picking some syllables
to hear a not so distinct sound and
to hear a song
from his youth
he arranges the words again
like some old furniture
in the home
in the sea of words
he splashes
drinks the salt of this earth
and begins
to drown himself
sooner shall he breathe again
and swallow
the whole of the sea
and the continents
of this world
as one of the atoms in this
vast expanse
of nothing but space
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quick
Quick to dismiss,
That which is misunderstood.
And quick to do this often.
Because one can and could.
Quick to define something wrong.
Quick to complain about it,
All day long.
Quick to sit to nitpick and pull apart.
As if this quickness was intended from the start.
Quick to resist a comprehension that exist.
Quick to allow a temper tantrum fit.
Quick to whip up excuses...
And split to disappear.
Quick to discover the nearest exit!
That's what troublemakers do...
When they stir up others in raging fits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Opposite Begins
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.
They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.
Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
They want it quick.
And...
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
To then see someone who genuinely fits,
Well...
The opposite begins pursued.
Oh yes it does.
An opposite begins pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgotten to Bring a Pad and Pen
With my writings...
I would love to communicate,
With a clarity comprehended.
But the levels of misunderstanding...
Have increased.
And concepts one chooses simplified...
Does not provide growth.
Even though ignorance,
Does seem to attract more attention!
And having conversations with myself...
Has not convinced one bystander,
That I was intelligent at all!
Not if I am the one witnessing
Any one of them on any given day...
Whispering in the ear of a policeman,
Who suspiciously glances my way!
And on those days,
Wouldn't you know it...
I had forgotten to bring a pad and pen?
And to memorize my thoughts,
Of course...
They had to be said over and over...
And over again!
'Yes officer...
I am a writer.
'Lick me quick! Lick me quick! '
Was not a reference made to that young lady at all!
You see...
I write in double entendres!
And I...'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking For Today
Its complete but obsolete
All tomorrows become yesterday
In demand but second hand
Its been heard before you even play
Up to date but came too late
Better get yourself another name
Youre so right but overnight
Youre the one who has to take the blame
Everyone just gets on top of you
The pain begins to eat your pride
You cant believe in anything you knew
When was the last time that you cried
Dont delay youre in today
But tomorrow is another dream
Sundays star is mondays scar
Out of date before youre even seen
At the top so quick to flop
Youre so new but rotting in decay
Like butterfly so quick to die
But youre only looking for today
Everyone just gets on top of you
The pain begins to eat your pride
You cant believe in anything you knew
When was the last time that you cried
Looking for today
Glamour trip so soon to slip
Easy come but oh how quick it goes
Ten foot tall but what to fall
Hard to open yet so easy to close
Front page news but so abused
You just want to hide yourself away
Over-paid, but soon you fade
Because youre only looking for today
Looking for today
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Creation
The whole goal of this world
Enters the mind of columns;
A universe has begun to resume,
So time is tempting us when we are old.
The telling of a statement by the creator
Of the universe is entering the soul
So that life begins to unfold,
Beauty is entering fully in our lives.
The sport of the stars in this creation
Sorts our southern and northern roofs;
The seas of the moon enter once again,
Rivers from the creator entice me.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Watch
I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent,
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick;
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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The Watch
I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent;
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick:
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick...
poem by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kick Start
We need a kick start
We need a quick solution
We need a next step
If we're really going
If we're really going
We sit on our couch
While we watch our TV
And the phone doesn't ring
And it's perfect
To be here playing house
Is no comfort to me
It's just more of the same
Again and again and again
We need a kick start
We need a quick solution
We need a next step
If we're really going
If we're really going
Trying so hard
To dig ourselves out
Cause we're stuck and we're scared
And we're thinking
Things have to change
It's the thoughts that don't count
Can something be done?
Don't let this decision drag on
We need a kick start
We need a quick solution
We need a next step
If we're really going
If we're really going
We need a big push
To reach the right conclusion
So we can get there
If we're really going
If we're really going
Let's go.
We need a quick solution
We need a next step
To reach the right conclusion
We need a kick start
We need a kick start
song performed by by Lisa Loeb from Cake & Pie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quick to Dump Their Junk
Some seem ready to jump into a garbage dump.
Quick to dump their junk,
And then start running.
Quicker to abuse their minds.
Quicker to find the time to whine.
And quick to say who's nuts...
And who ain't crazy.
It seems easier to walk away from people raging.
Easier to say who should be who they are.
Easier to start a fight.
Easier to say who's not living right.
And easier to be the one who sleeps at night.
Quick and easy it seems not to worry.
It appears some live lives free of mental strife.
Quick and easy it seems for them not to hurry.
When a life they choose to live,
Is not disguised by lies.
It seems some can take their lumps and not be moaning.
Or groan from Sunrise 'til that Sun goes down.
Whether they keep a faith.
Or pray every second of each day.
They don't walk around,
With a face to frown.
Why is it...
Some seem ready to jump into a garbage dump?
And why is it...
Some are quick to dump their junk,
And run?
Why are they...
Quicker to abuse their minds.
And why so quick are they to whine?
And quick they are to say who's nuts...
But they're not crazy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Until Veera Came Along
Life begins at forty to you and,
Life begins at one to me;
All the same, we have to learn from each other.
At one, i was lost in transit;
But at forty, you have tuned yourself into my life.
You can't believe it,
You can't say it,
Until Veera came along into my life to let me see clearly;
Now, the rain is gone.
Sitting here in my shadow with words,
I can now make a move on my life;
Yes, the dark clouds are really gone by.
To England with words,
To Finland with ideas,
Like the game of the big bang!
I've got the big deal of my life to share with you.
Some say life begins at forty and,
Others say life begins at one;
But, i will touch you with my abilities.
Life is like the world of attractions,
Growth is like the world of experiences,
As smooth as an accent to meet success;
But my words are read like needed accessories.
Until Veera came along,
To accommodate a level that calls for a view;
Who is she that comes with the contracts?
Who is he that comes with a message?
Being in one accord to make my dream come true,
Like Edward to London and Veera to Accra;
Owing to wonder the world sosweet with,
The alloted acts accredited to an ace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Stages
First of all...
I know it's not just all about me.
Only in my mind I am told.
And that seems to be aging rapidly!
As a glowing youth...
Dims to be conquered,
By an aging truth!
Overnight it seems.
Although many may refuse to agree with me.
Those into appearances and physicalities!
I am not one to be talking about looks...
But let me say this,
No pages flipped through books
Prepares anyone for the stages of aging.
Or when to apply a night cheek lift!
To become disappointed with the results,
That sit unresisting to stay for a long visit!
Compliments on maintaining a youthfulness,
Stirs those in doubt about what is really meant...
By those unsolicited comments sent!
But pleased to get them without resentment.
There are those who may defy this process.
But when it noticibly starts...
A feeling of achievement begins to arrive,
Or a time gone by so quickly is realized!
Which gets many into denial fits!
Horrified that the time has come...
And that they too can not escape from this!
When a passing glance in a mirror,
Becomes a lingering stare...
What is seen is obvious.
And we all must become aware...
An aging has taken place,
To stay on one's face...
Not to go anywhere,
But to etch and trace.
Hopefully some allow...
And undergo with grace.
That's the reality of these stages we go through!
At least 'some' do.
The ones who are not moisturizing...
To rid a wrinkle,
Or two.
OR...
Those of us who make a fuss,
About a delayed aging process ordered...
Taking too long to come and is much overdue!
A special delivery was paid to insure a rush!
To subdue those lines that accrue...
With the stages of age some welcome unphased!
Praying this amazement of a quick aging,
Fades away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Writing A Poem That You Can Understand So Easily
this is not to insult your intelligence
or your sensibility
your capacity for managing angst,
to see the wholeness
of the matter
in the eye of the needle
where the camel enters where you claim you have seen it,
this, this is it, the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river
do you not find wisdom in it, it is filled with questions to be answered:
why is the fox quick
why is it brown? why does it jump on a lazy dog? and is the dog really lazy? is this not offensive to the dogs in the royalty? and why should the river be near? and this bank of the river? is this where the dog lives? or the fox or the dog, do they relate to the word quick and lazy?
i tell you, there is wisdom in every word, no matter where you place it.
every verb serves its purpose in giving us action,
every question calls for an answer
and every period serves the purpose it is intended to be.
rest.
the purpose of an easy poem is to understand it, and so the poem is written in the most familiar language that you know and speak,
period.
i don't want to understand things really, there is no point there.
period.
some poems are not meant to be understood, they are only meant to be read.
period.
some poems are not meant to be digested, they are meant to make
us full, even only for a while.
period.
some poems are written by Someone Else, and this writer does not
even understand it.
period.
rest.......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jesus Is The Main Man
Jesus is the main man.
That's it.
No more comments!
Jesus is the main man.
You can zip your parted lips, now!
Jesus is the main man.
Forget those pity stops at pits.
Jesus is the main man.
This you 'must' admit, now!
Jesus is the main man.
That's it.
No more comments on it made...
To degrade or say what else may fit.
Jesus is the main man.
Know this,
And get lifted quick!
Jesus is the main man.
Understand this as best you can.
Jesus is the main man.
Commanded when you pray,
Now!
Jesus is the main man.
That's it...
No need for further comments on it!
Jesus is the main man.
He's like a gift one gets,
To share unlimited!
Jesus is the main man.
It's hard to sit still,
When something received
Is known
To be real!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Writers Block
The worst thing any writer can experience
is the most dreaded writers block.
Sitting in front of a blank sheet of paper
waiting and waiting for the words to come.
It is the curse of all writers
whether they are good or bad.
The frustration of trying to unblock their mind.
We try it with reading others words or soothing music
hoping to stimulate the little grey cells into working.
However it is never as easy as it sounds
as a writers block can sometimes last for years,
I know that from experience as
I have been down that road before.
Then the inexplicable happens and you pick up a pen
and that blank page is not blank anymore,
it is filled with words galore.
The torture is over and a new start begins.
You give a big sigh of relief as your writing begins again,
but being always weary in case that block comes back again.
14 January 2011
poem by David Harris
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Quick Is The Beat Of My Heart
Written by lewis mark
Lead vocals by james young
If its my time to die today
Please God oh make it fast
Balanced on this point for a year and half
I just dont think I can last
Theres a man whos laid to rest
The man who gave me my start
I wish I could quit but I cant and its rough
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
So please all you people
Dont you grieve for me
The blood in my veins is black and I cant bleed
Ive suffered the pain
And all I can face is the dark
Oh, lord, quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Now my bags are almost packed
The trains about to depart
I wish I could quit but I cant and its rough
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
If its my time to die...
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why?
Unaccountably, while I was making a liverwurst sandwich
(with mustard and cornichons on rye)
the poem took a dive
off the countertop, I don't know why,
onto the floor and burst into words
which can be either blunt or sharp, God knows.
There was nothing to do
but vacuum it up
eat the sandwich and, and,
put on shoes.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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