Grown to Bloom
In the days gone,
When I took for granted...
My life.
And the ease of complicity,
I had accepted nature...
As it surrounded me.
I've grown to bloom!
I've grown to comprehend...
What begins ends soon.
To feed a process,
I am blessed to experience.
And...
I have learned to enjoy whatever it is,
I do!
More than any time before!
Now that I know I can open doors!
And not be concerned how it was done.
That task...
I leave in the hands of a mind,
Far greater than mine.
I've grown to bloom...
To wither.
To feed a process,
I am blessed to experience.
Until I have finally come to rest,
In the nest of eternity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Lord Has A Will
I need you lord; in all I do.
Youre always there to see me through.
I cant get by unless I lean on you, lord.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
Your love, lord, is in my heart.
You wrote it there; it wont depart.
It lights my way and keeps me out of the dark.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
I thank you, lord, your word is sown
Into my life, and there its grown;
Its roots go deep where living waters are known.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Able To See Yourself Reflected
To those who have never,
Come to experience...
A losing of their child's life.
Or know what it is like,
To grieve and suffer through...
This feeling known that never leaves.
It is not a headache that comes and goes away.
The feeling of the image can not be numbed.
And those who say...
'It will be okay.' It never is... okay!
To those who have never,
Come to experience...
A losing of their child's life.
Or know what it is like,
Feel blessed you have not yet...
Endured that process.
Be blessed to have children,
Who can come to pluck your last nerve.
Feel blessed you are able to see yourself reflected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Choice Is to Make History
I'm one to adventure life.
Accepting it as a process.
I feel blessed to be granted it to bloom, flourish and grow.
Seeking purpose.
And when that purpose is fulfilled,
It then is time to move on!
Like each season that acknowledges the next.
Never to overstay a visit!
I too have those same wishes.
To remain unchallenged,
I know is not my mission.
And as long as I am blessed with my life,
I will seek the unknown.
To uncover it.
To leave behind for someone to discover I existed.
My choice is to make history.
Not relive it!
At times it can become uncomfortable.
But no learning I've ever achieved,
Came easy.
Or resulted from a path cleared of obstacles.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is A Feeling Embedded In One's Mind
The memory of losing a child,
Never leaves.
It is a feeling embedded in one's mind,
To remain as if a hole unplugged...
Can not be fixed.
There is a feeling of guilt that revisits,
From time to time.
And those who have never had that experience,
Are blessed not to know it.
Although those who do know,
What that experience is like...
Can sympathize with those who say,
'You have no idea,
How these children of mine can get on my last nerve.
Ten minutes!
If I only had ten minutes to myself.
Without them constantly on my mind I'd be happy.'
~You are right.
I have not been blessed to have that experience.
However,
Once they arrive...
Your life is no longer yours.
They will be on your mind until your life is over.~
'Oh yeah?
How would you know? '
~It's a feeling I get.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Rush To Get Up And Leave
Fabulous and exquisite,
Stays a scent remembered as fresh.
Never to undo with the passing of time.
And embraced as if just yesterday,
Are those memories coming to linger...
Unannounced in a surprise visit.
One finds remaining to be unchanged.
But somehow enhanced the more as one ages.
Although delaying a reluctance,
To become overwhelmed by seduction.
Since one knows how much slower it is to lift,
What was done when younger...
In a process taken for granted and on demand.
Without a single thought given to it.
And this too,
Can be interpreted as fabulous and exquisite.
Depending on who has grown to appreciate,
The benefit of taking one's time to savor the experience.
With no rush to get up and leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If It Fits
I am going to be on your mind,
For entire lifetimes.
Your perceptions and mine
Are out of sync.
I don't share what I think!
These observations come from a 'knowing'.
A something existing.
With or without my experience in the mix.
However I got it like that...
That's the way it is!
I am going to be on your mind,
For entire lifetimes.
The basicness of thought,
You can not today comprehend.
You rather glide through life,
On just a piece of the puzzle.
I want to discover how those pieces fit.
And what the big picture looks that,
To get a sense of it!
I am going to be on your mind,
For entire lifetimes.
Because my curiosity,
Will not allow me to quit.
And God has granted me the gift to write...
And with that 'gift'
I choose to express my impressions.
And I am impressed not with pieces...
But the whole.
As it sits.
Using a bit of explored insight,
And an array of lessons learned.
Not one bit of them imagined,
To get the jest of it as a process to yearn...
For confirmation and less for shock.
Each time I perceive the evidence...
Someone tries to keep suspended in disbelief!
If it fits...
There is less to ponder!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Isn't That The Reason
Why should you undo what has been done?
And if you could...
Why would you?
Who learned from the experience?
Did the process make any sense?
And if it did not...
A thought upon a mind was dropped,
To be not forgotten!
And isn't that the reason,
Someone had to do something?
If it had not been you...
Would you have been left wishing,
For more or less understanding?
And who would be there to fully comprehend?
As long as the action was taken...
Let time clarify the motive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now I Am Old
Seems I have grown old and my belly pops out
although I'm strangely at ease
and find comfort in its wobbling.
Seems I've grown old and my body aches
in places that I never knew
and still I take pleasure in the aching.
To be this age and moan is what I fancy
and I moan a lot, to annoy my children
and my grandchildren and some.
What good is it to be old and silent,
to sit in a chair, rocking to and fro
without a gripe or a fart or both!
No, I like to let the world know I'm here,
and after all these years of staying quiet,
to argue my point and snarl a little.
Seems I've grown old and my skin has creases
where there used to be bloom and colour
and young men complimented me.
Seems only yesterday I held you close
let you suckle from my tiny breasts
that have also grown, now, that they are no use.
Men will say, 'look at the knockers on that'
as I lie on a beach bathing in the sunshine
with a newspaper over my head
and I'll cackle and laugh and swear at them,
throw my stick at them and tell them to
behave as - now - I am old.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Sonnet -On Experience
One cannot learn from experience always,
For Knowledge is a sea; experience, Lake;
Some learn the same in hours or weeks or days;
Some never do all life, forever fake.
Experience implies one had done mistakes;
It is much wiser to learn from others;
To forget knowledge too, experience makes;
A continued process, it is, brothers.
Experience can't vouchsafe a man is wise;
And wisdom comes to one who God well loves;
Too much of experience could turn a vice.
All need not see the burst of bombs or stoves.
By experience, no man should turn haughty,
Nor should he try to be with peers, naughty.
poem by John Celes
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Shaking To Re-Invent To Then Adjust
Never did I ever stand inflexibe.
To prove I had strength against opposing winds.
I remain open to comprehend with a listening.
Hoping that from the doing of this,
There is something I have learned...
That continues to assist my growth process.
And letting nothing stand in the way,
Of my quest to eliminate aged and rusting barriers.
My life is like an earthquake...
Shaking to re-invent to then adjust as a must.
With a removing of that which has grown old,
To then innovate that updates...
Over and over again with renewed appreciation.
Much like the coming and going of each season.
I am not one,
However...
To quote a few passages from a book,
To then believe this protects me...
With a keeping of an ignorance,
I am not ready to rid.
Because to do so would disappoint,
Those upholding fading and outdated traditions.
My life is like an earthquake...
Shaking to re-invent to then adjust as a must.
With a removing of that which has grown old,
To then innovate that updates...
Over and over again with renewed appreciation.
Much like the coming and going of each season.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Culture Flowers
We’re all lashed
to Cultural Helms
besodden
ingrained eyes
narrowed to squinty plane
seeing;
not seeing
only mine;
and not mine
blind.
Culture is the Gardener's Death
who’s kind to only one flower;
other's bloom in the garden darkened
by blindness over-powered.
Strain some may
against the mast
yet they most times
cultivate only their own gardens;
time and the past
cause other flowers
to bloom and wither
before our very countenance.
Tempted we may be
by soul's desire
to look beyond the garden walls:
But few cannot,
but lift the spade
and plow the same furrows,
which etch our brow
contain our lives
until our death
we having known
only one garden flower:
grown beautifully
in straight
and narrow furrows.
A few sometimes
smell other blooms
thereby open up
genius
which is
simply
being willing
to sip and know
Not Like We-Ness.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Home Grown Tomatoes
There aint nothin in the world that I like better than bacon n lettuce n
Home grown tomatoes up in the mornin, out in the garden
Get you a ripe one, dont pick a hard un plant em in the spring, eat em in
The summer all winter without em is a culinary bummer I forget all about the
Sweatinand the digginevery time I go out and pick me a big un home grown
Tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown
Tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes you can go out to eat an thats for
Sure but theres nothina home grown tomatoe wont cure put em in a salad, put
em in a stew
You can make your own tomatoe juice
You can eat em with eggs, eat em with gravy you can eat em with beans, pinto
Or navy put em on the side, put em in the middle home grown tomatoes on a hot
Cake griddle home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like
Without home grown tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes if is to change this life I lead
You could call me johnny tomatoe seed
cause I know what this country needs
Home grown tomatoes in every yard you see when I die dont bury me
In a box in a cold dark cemetery
Out in the garden would be much better
cause I could be pushin up a home grown tomatoe home grown tomatoes, home
Grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown tomatoes only two
Things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes
Words and music by guy clark
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know I've Grown
I know I've grown.
Had I not...
Mother Nature would not stop me,
Suddenly with her beauty.
And I now am aware,
Of what has been always there.
I know I've grown.
I'm fascinated by a walk in the rain.
If clouds are there,
I do not complain.
And when I get wet,
I get a sense of happiness.
Without feeling 'strange' at all!
I know I've grown.
When I think of obstacles as adjustments.
And it seems as if it was just yesterday,
I struggled against this!
Finding it unbearable to face another challenge.
Today...
I know I've grown.
Since I think of those who passed their judgements,
As gifts received.
And I am able to forgive and let live?
Believing what had been done has its meaning.
Something from that has been retrieved.
And I am relieved by it.
Oh, I know I have grown.
Especially if I can come to smile,
In the face of a known tormentor.
And observing a suspicion,
From them I get!
I am equally as amazed.
And yet...
Not forgetting what was done.
But knowing I have overcomed my anger.
To allow a peace of mind I have found!
And trust me...
The power of that can stun.
And that did not arrive...
As I sat trying to justify my bitterness.
That crap had to go!
And when that was decided,
I knew inside myself...
I had grown to appreciate,
My life with more of an awareness...
Of what Mother Nature shows.
And this has been a blessing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Mere
Long long time ago
Shake off your shoes
Kick off your boots
Heres what she said to me
The world is a possibility
And even though I grown old
I still believe in
Everything she told to me
Sometimes Im an invisible man
You cant see me
But can understand
Im just one grain in your pile of sand
I never fit in to your plan
My grandma said when she took me aside
Gonna make many many chances in life
Gonna make many mistakes in time
Just make sure you dont lose your mind
Even though Ive grown old
I still believe in
Everything she told to me
Find yourself and thats for sure
Whether youre rich
Or whether youre poor
When the handles broke
And open comes the door
Leave tonight, what ya waiting for?
My grandmom is dead and gone
Me Im still traveling on
Dark as night fades into dawn
Stars at night fade into morning time
Even though Ive grown old
Still believe in
Everything she told to me
Even though I still young
Still believe in everything Ive done
And even though Ive grown old
Still believe in
Everything she told to me
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Then Abandon Them
One day,
When the importance of being human...
Becomes thought of as a gift to share,
With others equally blessed and knowing it...
This experience called 'life',
Will become more than war and defeat of another...
To feed the greeding,
Of those insecure and barbaric.
Who are dependent upon those they kill.
And...
With a deceiving to manipulate their own kin.
Only to take what their own parents have to offer,
To then abandon them to die in convalescent homes.
One day,
When the importance of being human...
Becomes thought of as a gift to share,
With others equally blessed and knowing it...
This experience called 'life',
Will become more than war and defeat of another...
To feed the greeding,
Of those insecure and barbaric...
Who are dependent upon those they kill.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Same Old Song
And the band starts playing
The same old song again
The monks start praying
To the same God again
But He has grown,
He's grown tired
Maybe its time
That he retired
He's grown selfish,
He's grown Greedy
Bless the homeless
And the needy
And the band start playing
The same old song again
The old are still aging
Its new years eve again
But they've grown stupid,
They've grown lazy
They've grown senile,
and gone crazy
They've grown new cancers,
And suffer old ulcers
There are new medicines,
which might be the answer
And the band start playing
The same old song again
And here I am sitting
Back in that same chair again
You were cold,
and you were hearltless
Still you insist
that you are faultless
You are selfish
and you were cruel
How long must you torture
this young fool
And the band start playing
The same old song again
And when it ends
I press rewind again
I am drunk, and feel so sleepy
And in this room I'm feeling creepy
Maybe we sat here too long
Maybe I should stop listening
To our Old Song
poem by Niroda Abboud
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Blessed To Be Cursed
I awaken early,
With thoughts that seem...
Already out of date.
Already out of time.
Already...
I feel I am too late.
Bombarded I am,
With images that feed.
And some I feel,
I am not yet ready to taste.
Am I cursed or blessed?
At times I feel in between.
And aging hasn't made this attraction,
Any easier for me...
It seems.
Am I cursed or blessed?
OR blessed to be cursed?
Is it possible to enjoy something,
And not quench that thirst?
I awaken early,
With thoughts that seem...
Already out of date.
Already out of time.
Already...
I feel I am too late.
Bombarded I am,
With images that feed.
And some I feel,
I am not yet ready to taste...
Although I enjoy,
Achieving those impossible dreams.
Am I cursed or blessed?
OR blessed to be cursed?
Is it possible to enjoy something,
And not quench that thirst?
And I think to myself...
'What am I getting out of this?
How am I benefitting,
When I am the last to think of myself first! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Pansies
Day and night pass over, rounding,
Star and cloud and sun,
Things of drift and shadow, empty
Of my dearest one.
Soft as slumber was my baby,
Beaming bright and sweet;
Daintier than bloom or jewel
Were his hands and feet.
He was mine, mine all, mine only,
Mine and his the debt;
Earth and Life and Time are changers;
I shall not forget.
Pansies for my dear one--heartsease--
Set them gently so;
For his stainless lips and forehead,
Pansies white as snow.
Would that in the flower-grown little
Grave they dug so deep,
I might rest beside him, dreamless,
Smile no more, nor weep.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Many Ignore This Process To Forget
Not only are there differences in ages.
There are differences in experiences.
And those differences experienced...
Should be accepted to digest,
To progress one's comprehension.
But the similarities in not paying attention...
To comprehend with intention,
Between ages mentioned...
To insist one has a more indepth awareness,
Is often a sharing done that should be dismissed.
A learning done is a process one wins,
With a knowing of it won.
And many ignore this process to forget,
How and where an experience wishing to share...
Had been obtained to get.
And...
Remembering from 'whom' and when,
They received a message that began to deliver them...
To a wisdom.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Time In Exile
Used to worry for each other
No ones bothered like before
We sleep with each others friends
Sneak around, fall apart
And come back for more
We sit around drinking tables
Stabalized and keeping score
But my mind is somewhere out the door
Oh, we have grown
Maybe I've overstayed a while
In my time in exile
Oh, time has flown
And the only thing I've learned
I want a life now of my own
We go to clubs
The songs are old
The evening's blown
We go our ways
And take taxi's home
We talk of sunday outings
And medicate to fight the doubting
But we know
We'll always be
Alone
We have grown
I've overstayed a while
In my time in exile
Oh, time has flown
And the only thing I've learned
I want a life now of my own
Of my own
Well that's my years spent in exile
Second guessed and dressed up in tatters
My birth feet didn't take this path
And I'm still looking for a life that matters
More than chit-chat we listen to the streets
We're all dead beats
And these old habbits are starting to show through
Sorry I didn't get to know you
Oh, time has slown
I've overstayed a while
In my time in exile
Oh, well we have grown
The one thing that I've learned
I want a life now of my own
Bye bye
To the friends I've known
In my time in exile
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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