Frightened When Alone
Believe it or not...
I walk a path,
On a journey...
I have never taken before.
And I am not one to assume it will last,
On an everlasting tour.
I am sure about the process.
But the end result of it my mind ignores.
I have selected a direction,
That to me feels right.
And sometimes I admit,
I do get uneasy but with no thoughts to quit.
I am the type that often wishes,
To have someone to share my life with.
And so far I have not known,
What the meaning of that is.
And frightened when alone,
When I think about this
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Consumed Within the Process
Consumed within the process
That process we call life.
Immuned? Not from this process.
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed within the process.
That process we call life.
Immuned?
Not from this process!
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Closing its eyes only when it wishes,
To call itself out!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
Just consumed.
Within the process this process.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Deterred By Your Point Of View
It is not my purpose in life,
To advise you on 'your' direction.
Or suggest which path to take,
On your journey.
Nor from me will there be recommendations.
If it should upset you,
That my vision remains focused...
And not deterred by your point of view,
Keep this in mind...
You are not my destination.
However...
It does appear that you are an obstacle,
That wishes to block my mission...
With a stirring up of my feelings of guilt,
With a delay of an empathy you await to be given.
You've done a good job.
All is not lost.
I passed a few procrastinators,
Along on my journey.
Be patient.
Someone will eventually buy your nonsense.
As for me...
Your routine is too familiar.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still I Walk
I walk this road alone, I fear
Route unknown but my end is clear
Still I walk with determined stride
No place to rest, no stars to guide
Another fork, more twists and turns
Each fork a test and lessons learned
Still I walk, thru sheer strength and will
Though my journey lies all uphill
How queer it is, this path I take
My shoes are worn, my feet do ache
Still I walk with unchanging gait
To meet the end, we all call fate
We all share such similar paths
To all an end by nature's wrath
Still I walk with unyeilding grit
Hope guides me, never shall I quit
From start to finish, from womb to rest
Cherish the Journey, for we all are blessed
I'm the type of girl
Im the type of girl that will hang on.
And never let go.
I'm the type of girl whose always hyper.
The one you wanna know.
Im the type of girl you wont wanna date.
But would love to be just friends.
I'm the type of girl who knows the killer.
Long before it ends.
I'm the type of girl whose rooms a mess.
But whose desk is always neat.
I'm the type of girl who is slightly weird.
But you really wanna meet.
I'm the type of girl that holds her tounge.
But never says whats right.
I'm the type of girl who loves to sleep.
But reads all through the night.
I'm the type of girls who fails at sports.
But wins at every game.
I'm the type of girl that always cries.
But covers all the pain.
I'm the type of girl that falls inlove.
With all the wrong guys.
I'm the type of girl thats ready to believe.
In all your pathetic lies.
I'm the type of girl that hates Taylor Lautner.
And all those other teens.
I'm the type of girl who sits alone.
But chases every dream.
I'm the type of girl you can't forget.
Or get out of your head.
I'm the type of girl who'll stick by your side.
Even when your dead.
I'm the type of girl who says what she feels.
And means every single words.
I'm the type of girl that falls up stairs.
And sings songs you've never heard.
I'm the type of girl who spends her life.
Writing depressing poems.
I'm the type of girl who loves to walk.
'Cause she likes to be alone.
I'm the type of girl that begs for love.
But is too afraid to fall.
I'm the type of girl who feels so short.
Even though shes tall.
I'm the type of girl that's to unique to fit in.
But doesn't mind either way.
I'm the type of girl that will love her ex.
Until the feelings fade.
I'm the type of girl you'll never know.
But would have to just meet.
I'm the type of girl who can never decide.
On what she wants to eat.
I'm the type of girl who can rhyme in a second.
But is always slow to catch on.
I'm the type of girl whose had her heart broken.
And wonders what went wrong?
I'm the type of girl you can't understand.
For I'm a type too rare to know.
I'm the type of girl who keeps hanging on.
Long after you've letten go.
I'm the type of girl who writes for hours.
And dreams of what she'll never be.
I'm the type of girl who can only be defined.
As different, complicated, and unique.
poem by Silence Dogood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once he had selected the path he was going down he really had to stick with it in a 16 game match. He had to try and hit in the one direction but unfortunately for him - though fortunately for me! - he hit in the wrong direction.
quote by Vladimir Kramnik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes Mentally Therapeutic
With a call to respond,
I imagine that is what a writer...
Of poetic verse does.
Something said that is received,
By another who thinks...
A delivery of words written,
Opens doors to communicate...
An attention the author seeks.
Part of this is true.
A writer wishes minds,
To review a thought process too!
But words selected to express,
Those life experiences one gets.
Is sometimes mentally therapeutic,
To get what one feels off of one's chest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Selected What It Was To Be Picked?
The one thing I dislike,
About those who say...
They don't have what they want.
Or have things their way!
When they always seem to be surrounded,
By what exists as they sit to complain about it!
These are my questions...
Who selected what it was to be picked?
And in the picking done...
How many were witnessed,
To be unconscious of this?
And no one wants to admit...
They chose with eyes opened,
The path selected and the consequences.
Unless that too was done,
With an overdoing of pretentiousness.
Many love in the doing but can't remember it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Witnessing As I Live
I have never before been given the opportunity,
To rehearse the process of aging.
Some would have others believe,
They are gifted with the expertise.
And already know what it is like.
I don't.
I am witnessing as I live my life...
With a wisdom I have never known.
And mysterious aches I feel in my bones,
As if done to remind me...
'Something' seeks attention and wishes it shown.
I have never before been given the opportunity,
To rehearse the process of aging.
But I must admit,
The process is interesting.
Although...
Being around those who announce their pains,
Is more aggravating than anything else.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Else Have You Selected?
Who else will I face,
To come into my life...
My Father?
Who else have You selected?
For me to share,
As we together...
Within Your vision please.
Who else comes to teach...
Lessons taught to instill,
For me to learn?
Who will You deem to be qualified...
To ignite that spark I yearn?
Who comes to confess,
The void in my emptiness they can fulfill.
Who will that be coming not to exhaust,
My patience
To recognize from my eyes...
They have come with God given skills.
Who else will I face,
To come into my life...
My Father?
Who else have You selected?
For me to share,
As we together...
Within Your vision please.
Others have come for shortened visits.
Will You pick someone admired for Yourself?
To have me grieve upon their leaving...
As it seems You have done,
With everyone else.
To see how quickly I can heal...
With just You to turn to,
For a comforting you know appeals!
And after testing my loyalty...
Will You again,
Introduce another someone...
You will have me meet,
Just for me?
Or will You throw upon my path another test?
Just to tease to see if I love You best?
Who else have You selected?
For me to share,
As we together...
Within Your vision please?
And 'why' do You do this,
To me My Father?
Don't You believe,
I'm deserving of someone...
Not for You to scrutinize.
But a companion who is special...
To meet and satisfy our human needs.
Before You put me through another test,
Who else have You detected...
That I might select,
Just for me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Type Of Man
What kind of a man goes after a married woman
What kind of a man does it and proclaims his faith in GOD
What kind of man does the things that he shouldn't
Does that type of man think that he will never be caught.
What type of man leaves his children and his wife
What type of man puts his needs and his wants first
What type of a man is scared to fight his own fights
Does that type of man cares whose soul that he hurts.
What type of man talks behind other peoples backs
What type of man lies to make himself look tall in front of others
What type of man is scared to admit the guilt that he has done
Does that type of man think that we are his brothers.
What type of man will not work for a living
What type of man wants others to take care of him
What type of man thinks he is something but he's not
Does that type of man thinks that manhood is his friend.
What type of man cannot be used as an example
What type of man does not keep promises that he's made
What type of man should not be father to any child
Does that type of man know the price that a real man has paid.
What type of man thinks but he cannot think
What type of man looks but he truly does not see
What type of man hears but he does not listen
Does that type of man know that he could never be me.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Got You
I've got you, and that's all I want.
I won't forget, 'cause that's a whole lot.
When something's wrong, I feel uneasy.
You show me, tell me you're not teasin'.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
Look at you, you're a pageant.
You're everything that I've imagined.
I don't go out, now that you're here.
Sometimes we shout, but that's no problem.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
There's no doubt, but when I'm with you.
When I'm without, I stay in my room.
Where do you go? I get no answer.
You're always out, it gets on my nerves...
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying.
I don't know why sometimes I get frightened.
You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollow Wishes
I am without sleep...
Most times.
Not from an unrest,
I can not explain.
But from a creative process...
Absorbing my mind,
Where these thoughts are contained.
If I am not there to please your needs...
Know that my desires are there.
There is this 'thing' that takes hold of me.
And I become hypnotized,
Like a victim undeclared.
Know that I want to share with you,
I do.
But I am committed to gifts,
I can not ignore.
And the seriousness of this affliction...
I was born with and do adore.
Even though I am without sleep...
Most times.
At all times,
I am not without gratitude.
So forgive me if it seems,
You are not included...
In those dreams I must make real.
Please do not feel neglected.
I must reveal the me reflected.
And if I don't produce...
My life would be reduced,
To hollow wishes.
And those I can not validate...
Creatively enough to share,
As evidence of my presence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Will Judge
I came upon a fork in the road
And I didn't know which path to take
Should I take the path most traveled upon
As that decision I just have to make.
So I ponder the decision for a while
Till an outcome came to my mind
I would take the one that was less traveled
And truthfully I still know not why.
I started my journey down that path
As down that road I began to walk
I then began to think the thoughts to myself
And also to myself I began to talk.
I came upon two men and a woman arguing
Screaming back and forth about hate and love
I bowed my head and then I walked away
And I said to them, one day GOD he will judge.
I walked down the road a little bit further
Then I noticed water upon the path
It formed a pond which became my mirror
Then I saw myself looking in, so I had to laugh.
I looked so sad and I look so confused
As at first I didn't think that it was me
But they say with age comes wisdom and sadness
So maybe that really was myself looking back at me.
I continued my journey down the path
Just seeing were it was going to take me next
Or will the road just end like how it began
So later in the day I might sit back and reflect.
I then came across some people stealing and fighting
While an innocent man was screaming that's enough
Then like cowards I saw them all just run away
Then I said to the innocent, one day GOD he will judge.
So I continued my journey down that path
Out of curiosity to see where It would take me then
But it took me back to that same fork in the road
My ending was also where my journey did begin.
Then suddenly I had awaken from that dream
My journey was really a dream that I just had
And was it a dream about my very own circle of life
Especially my pain and suffering and what made me sad.
So I sat up in my bed and started reflecting back
Into my soul which is full of sadness of love
I think the dream was telling me do not ever forget
And that also in time to all, GOD He will judge.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Journey I and II
A journey that's made for the last time
Is poignant with thoughts of time past
Of people of moments of pictures
Sad to think this time is the last
A journey that's made for the first time
Is of scenes that pass by in a rush
No background, no substance, no meaning
Quick sketches with a broad brush
A journey that's made in the middle
Is tedium where the views are unseen
To get on, to pass by, to ignore
Insignificance born of routine
A journey that's made in the end
Is a trial borne day after day
To accept, to assist, to politely endure
Wasting one's interest away
A journey's that only made once
Is a privilege, not labour of love
To record, to appreciate, to absorb
And all of those verses above
----------
Journeys made by design
Are private attempts at fulfilment
To seek, to acquire, to perspire
At a painful pace of achievement
Journeys made in your mind
Are vital to real life success
To invent, to dispute, to evolve
Make our thinking progress
Journeys made in your soul
Result in new ways of seeing
Listening, guessing and smelling
Add body to your method of being.
I think essentially the meaning of life is probably the journey and not really any one thing or an outcome or a result.
quote by Charisma Carpenter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joyfully Serve
I prefer not to walk alone
As the journey may be considered as half gone
Enjoyed by one and shared by none
So it must be accompanied by someone
Not that it is must and necessary
Yet everybody wants to marry
Willing to share the burden and carry
Enjoy it with responsibility and remain merry
Stay as near as possible
Nothing to worry about troubles
As they may come and go
But we may certainly grow
No liability as has been put
As life is no short cut
Love is to rule and affection is to take over
Both may work as one and provide cover
It is not the quest for gain
It is to develop bond and remain
Together for life and share
The fruits of journey and dare
You may depart one day
But to show others the way
Presence may not be that important
Yet the result may be seen instant
Did you even see old couples?
Walking with sticks among people
No worry for death to take over
Yet with so much happiness there
I request all to shed differences, if any
Make it fine resolve to carry
Life till the end of curve
Beautiful end and joyfully serve
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Girl
'New Girl',
call 411,
she's here,
and she's being impressed,
by everyone.
Most girls are jealus.
Most boys just glare.
The 'New Girl',
is alone,
and has no one to talk with,
walk with,
share secrets with,
or have fun with.
The new girl,
is alone.
Let's talk,
let's walk,
lets share secrets with,
lets have fun.
No.
She's the ' New Girl '.
Let's make her feel welcomed,
by laughing,
stocking,
blocking her way,
let's make her get lost,
don't worry,
she'll find her way.
The ' New Girl '
is just a girl,
she's nothing more,
than a ' New Girl ',
nobody likes her,
nobody cares,
everyone just stares,
and the boys,
just glare.
She's the ' New Girl ',
we assume she's mean,
we assume she's naughty,
we assume she's clean.
We think she's snobby,
we think she's weird,
we think she's a nobody,
but that ' New Girl ',
was me.
poem by Jasmine Aira
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The Life that we are part of
one life
one soul
shared by
entities
all added
up to one
larger life
the river
freezes
because it
it is telling
the sun
not to go
too far
the moon
hangs out
in the night
because
it wishes
to share
the secrets
of the sun
the cloud
comes down
as rain
because
it wishes to
share with
all the glory
of the sky
the trees
bear fruits
because
it wishes
to thank all
for giving air
as well as
hellp spread
their kinds
the sky is
thunder and
lightning
because
it wishes
to throw
a balance
between earth
and sky
the world is
getting hotter
because
it wishes
to tell us
we have gone
against its order
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Altogether, It is a Different Journey
Altogether, it is a different journey
It is not indeed a usual journey
No flight can reach you
No train runs to that destination
Not a bus
Not a car
You cannot walk to that place
Google earth cannot locate it
GPS does not know this
You do not have an idea as to
How far you need to travel
How much time it will take
How soon or late you will reach
But one thing is sure
You can be back in no time
In your starting point
To be back at your place
And in the middle your regular chores
It is not tourism
Not a sight seeing affair
Not even a pilgrimage
It may not be entertaining too
Path can be enjoyable
It can be painful
But you will only know it
Very importantly you will travel all alone
No one, including your dearest one,
Can accompany you
You are left with yourself only
It is all a free lancing exercise
You will not get tired of this journey
Provided you are determined to be so
Your place of interest
Can be far beyond the sun
And it can be very close and within you
What all you can do is
To visualize
To understand
To comprehend
To consolidate
To get focused
You may get clarity
Of your thoughts
Of your vision
Of what you want to be
Of how to end this issues ridden life path
It is nothing but the journey within you
Which is unique to yourself
And which will be an altogether different journey
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Saddled
No one consciously wishes to admit it.
Not publicly anyway.
That many today appear sane and normal.
While taking doses of medication,
That is difficult to detect...
When one is effectively expressing.
Yet hidden is a mind defective.
Mentally crippled and stressed.
Unnoticed but spilled from sick lips,
Are accusations against those innocent.
With wishes to dismiss their own afflictions...
Although seeking to be accepted openly,
While in the process of sharing...
Their saddled addictions.
And soliciting to do this...
As if everyone should agree!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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