Guilt That Stalks
No mascara or masquerades,
Can hide this trash.
No close ups or switched commercial fades...
Can unblemish the flaunted
Rough flawed edges,
In 'light'...
Now made.
Two countries vowed to invade,
With a plan!
Now each man grandstands,
To excuse devastation by their hands!
No camera angles or shadowed profiles,
Can disguise the bile of demonic smiles!
They make when 'Breaking News'
And strategies of success...
Are looking dimmer crushed by a mess!
Leaving souls of lost lives,
To return to their nests armed...
With a message received!
God has chosen them now to deliver!
Haunting those who chose greed and death
Followed by a guilt that stalks those who quiver.
To frighten and surround them in their shivers!
Exposed and disposed,
As the givers who forced...
Humanity's destruction!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Morning Innocence
Morning Innocence
We’re all born with it
As children, its what we live on
Screw death and destruction
Its only life and love that
we want to know about
For that’s all we should know
Contemplations of death and destruction
Is just a waste of our breath
and a waste of our tears
Yet some may still wonder
'What is `Morning Innocence`? '
It’s the knowledge of knowing nothing
As children or as we wake up
Death, pain, and hatred are never
the first thing on our minds
This is Morning Innocence
Be it the beginning of our lives
or the beginning of our day
We know nothing...
Yet time passes we lose this
Morning Innocence
Even if it’s hours or years
We start to realize
All the death, pain, and destruction
That shall one day consume our lives
However, to the end of our day(s)
as a reflection of our souls
We accept it as it comes along
We’re brilliant...
We know everything there is to know
We know what is soon to come
Because this Morning Innocence
is no longer a factor in our lives
No more knowledge...
We’ve been exposed to it all
and yet we’re still being exposed
There’s ten million ways to die
and the number keeps growing
and now - we no longer have
our Morning Innocence
to protect us.
poem by Joseph Anthony Montefusco
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stop The World I Want To Get Off
I've had enough, why we cannot get on with each other
I've never known times so rough,
Where ‘o' where has all the love gone
Why show the hate with a roadside bomb,
Freedom riots crushed with tanks,
Write about flowers and beautiful nature? No thanks
Stop the World I Want to Get Off!
Countries with no one to kill rape the earth
Destroying forests so fast leaving nothing but dearth,
Then boffins who can't make a car that can go slow
That so many road victims so early to heaven must go.
To top the hate cake 911 shook the world
As the news and horror unfurled,
Stop the World I Want to Get Off!
I've booked a flight on the first shuttle leaving soon
To live with that loving man who lives on the moon,
I know those with love who are left will win in the end, but
I must leave now or I'll go round the bend.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stop the World I Want to Get Off
I've had enough, why we cannot get on with each other
I've never known times so rough,
Where ‘o' where has all the love gone
Why show the hate with a roadside bomb,
Freedom riots crushed with tanks,
Write about flowers and beautiful nature? No thanks
Stop the World I Want to Get Off!
Countries with no one to kill rape the earth
Destroying forests so fast leaving nothing but dearth,
Then boffins who can't make a car that can go slow
That so many road victims so early to heaven must go.
To top the hate cake 911 shook the world
As the news and horror unfurled,
Stop the World I Want to Get Off!
I've booked a flight on the first shuttle leaving soon
To live with that loving man who lives on the moon,
I know those with love who are left will win in the end, but
I must leave now or I'll go round the bend.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finding Life In Death
I spend so much time doting on earth and what it has,
Enjoying what's mine to use, to take, to squander.
I keep modeling myself to what I think will work,
But for my mistakes there is no remedy.
All my light, no matter how hard I shine,
Cannot overcome these stains of dark, of perversion, of guilt.
I look around and am without excuse, there is success, there is right,
But where does this over powering light, that is not subdued by death come from?
Nothing I have within me can overcome me,
Who is this intercessor that magnetically pulls me towards him?
This light, somehow familiar with death, a death, many deaths,
my death.
How is his death on my hands because of my death?
My death, my dying, my deeds deserving death...
For my death he died?
How redemption suddenly eclipses all other pursuits,
I switch from seeking sin to seeking salvation.
And it is found.
poem by Benjamin Feliciano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deliver Me
deliver me...
from the fury, the noise,
and the roar of the wheel...
deliver me...
from my own insecurities,
my unconscious greed,
and my self driven fears.
deliver me...
from my conceptual understanding,
my limited knowledge,
and my worship of knowledge.
deliver me...
from all anger and hatred
in whatever disguise...
deliver me...
from being driven by
mouth and stomach unchecked,
from what i think i need.
deliver me..
from my countless mistakes,
and the excuses i make!
deliver me...
from any kind of pride
that closes the open hand!
deliver me...
from any sense of self
that would seperate and divide.
deliver me...
from laziness and tiredness,
from bitterness and lonliness.
deliver me...
from all forms of apathy,
and the want to possess...
deliver me...
and bring me to realize myself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Chose to Like My Own Life
I chose to like my own life.
It wasn't easy then to do it.
Since many then pretended,
With no identifiable dignity.
Or a pride that had reality.
I chose to live my life right.
Free of masquerades,
And...
Those days I spent charading.
With dim light to pass.
I chose to greet the morning Sun.
Feeling a freedom at last.
Like never before I felt could be done.
I opened the door inside of me once closed.
And released my own mind...
To find a truth I could believe,
See and daily breathe.
And wanting more of 'me' exposed.
And I chose to like my own life.
Not finding fault or wrong with it.
Or defending what for me felt right.
What for me I knew existed.
I chose to like my own life to live,
As I do...
To prove,
It is mine to live it as I choose.
And this day I choose to live my life!
And so peaceful do I sleep at night.
Free of masquerades,
And...
Those days I spent charading,
Behind an assortment of masks.
With no direction on my path,
Cemented and paved.
I chose to like my own life.
It wasn't easy then.
Since many then pretended.
As if that was their task.
And pretending for me,
Has ended.
As clear as unstained glass,
Allows light to pass through it brighter...
With no intention to leave a blemish.
Coming as it does,
To radiate that which lives.
And this day I choose to live my life!
For me...and you too.
To get those deeds we need to do,
Done.
Knowing now we have identified,
And overcomed the fear...
Of liking one another like we like ourselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Left to Play the Blame Game
Conditioned to discredit their own kind.
In neighborhoods...
Where one has said,
Folks have lost their moral fiber.
Others who have come to witness this...
Have come to realize,
Those folks have also lost their minds.
Unfortunately...
They have been encourage,
To lose their identity as well.
Their ambitions have been to flaunt,
A foolishness dressed to impress!
In a collected unified distrust of one another.
Not realizing this would lead to communities,
Under duress.
And stressed in their own distress.
With no one left to care,
How or if they correct such a mess.
Since this has been their wish!
Bestowing a self destruction done at its best.
Left to play the blame game...
With no one but themselves.
Pointing fingers!
And leaving them to thrive...
In conditions they've imposed,
But have chosen to see it with eyes...
In blind defiance.
Despising truth,
That confronts them exposed.
But this and who they are goes denied!
No matter who comes qualified...
To tell them about themselves.
Or tries to correct their ignorant lives.
Whether dressed in street clothes...
Or suited up with bowties!
'They just do not get it! '
A mindset this shallow...
Although recognized,
Is best to leave in the hands of those who defend it.
Since those who criticize and become offended,
Are the ones that are ostracized!
The ones trying to mend it!
Finding they are living much happier lives...
Divorced from such division.
Divorced from those in constant criticsms.
And observing this nonsense from the outside.
Living with a peace of mind...
As a decision made.
And feeling grateful and blessed,
In confessions they profess...
They were able to find,
With a welcomed rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Rejection Poem) Angel Of Death
The blood is rushing through my veins.
Breaking free of the shackles and chains.
Being pulled away.
I want to stay but I must go.
Oh hell, no.
It wont happen.
I killed all the passion.
Its over.
Done, sorry but this game can never be won.
The angel of death has come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I got to just walk away.
Its no longer my mistake.
I must take control.
Pulling the reins trying to drive me insane.
Patience, is no longer in my best interest.
Just leave me alone.
Let me be calm.
Probably should get stoned.
A unending high in this life.
A dream being destroyed.
But I must let go.
For the angel of death has come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I must take control.
A choice has been made.
As the day fades.
Win or lose it no longer matter anyways.
I'm not playing.
I'm not staying.
So let the angel of death come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I must take control.
I was the fool.
I was the fool.
A life so cruel.
I'll watch from afar.
Like a distant star.
You can no longer reach me.
You can no longer b*tch to me.
The line has been written in the sand.
Everyone one on that side is damned.
So let the angel of death come.
Reaping the lost souls
oh reaping the lost souls.
I must take control.
By saying no,
i will not follow a heart so hollow.
I'm not blinded by the sickness.
No oh no.
So let the angel of death come.
Just let her come.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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It's Out Of My Hands
I'll just turn away, there's not need to watch her leaving
I don't want to let her see me cry
And the part of me that's breaking
Is The part that has been taking her for granted
And that's why she said goodbye
I twas me that let her down and left her lonely
But her leaving me was never in my plan
It started with my lying
And it ended with me crying
And she's taken all the lonely she can stand
It's out of my hands now
It's over and done
She's made her choice now
And I'm not the one
She'll find her future with some other man
It was all up to me but I just couldn't see
Now it's out of my hands.
She tried every way she knew to make me happy
She was more than just a lover and a friend
I was just too blind to see
And now she set me free
So it's best to walk away and let it end
It's out of my hands now
It's over and done
She's made her choice now
And I'm not the one
She'll find her future with some other man
It was all up to me but I just couldn't see
Now it's out of my hands.
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devotion and Persistence
A warm welcome of deeds performed,
Aren't always received with standing ovation.
Sometimes what is done is not even noticed.
So what does one do?
Break down in devastation?
Those who give from the heart,
Are not that small in number.
They are not out seeking applause,
Like many false givers do!
It isn't rare that there are those sincere.
They do not appear with banners adorned.
Wanting their accomplishments,
To be heard going on and on.
By someone else who may be impressed.
Someone else who may or may not express envy.
A warm welcome of deeds performed,
Aren't always received with standing ovation.
Sometimes what is done is not even noticed.
So what does one do?
Break down in devastation?
Or make proclamations,
Of how long their 'sacrifices' have been in place!
And those social butterflies,
Are never without their resumés.
Or hints of reminders of those deeds done they do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even if desired
Oh lord, help only those hands
Those are going to deliver good at the end
Don’t stop the destructive hands either
As they may also be seen as little spot in feather
No sound can be made without clapping
No message can be conveyed without gentle tapping
It is universal truth and must be realized soon
Hands may be placed on head to escape blazing sun
Lord, you only directed us to do something
We were little ignorant not to know anything
It never occurred to our fragile mind
Those hands are needed to deliver the kind
Number of times they have been raised to seek blessings
It may be wanted for material gain with some misgivings
Yet they were inspired to seek from heavenly crown
We have always prayed and asked for pardon
We have done it with unknown fear
So much pain and agony was forced to bear
We did it for the want of compelling situation
We apolized and sought for its discontinuation
The hands can do no wrong even if desired to
They are meant to create path to pass through
Hands must feel little hitch in doing wrong
They shall be condemned later from the circle or among
You are reflected in all of our actions
They may be taken note of as true reaction
It may be spoken badly or praised for work
It is seen as disguise with your final masterly stroke
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Sunshine
Sometimes I can't get enough
Ooh, of you
This friendly game keeps getting rough
Think I'm breaking through
I cannot hide this well
This well as I should
There's always something left to tell
Tell me is it good?
I see you
Do you see me too?
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine
Come on through
I will find you
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine
I guess you chose a different road
I am not aware
I got the one that's been closed
Shut down for repair
I hold a highway in my head
Ruling of a king
Driving away the things I've said
And I've said everything
I see you
Do you see me too?
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine
Come on through
I will find you
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine
Meet me in the sunshine
Meet me in the... sunshine
There's something better in this heat
Getting it on
I feel the warmth, I feel the greed
And I fear the fall
I hold this window wide enough
To keep the whole world
I want to spit out all this stuff
And keep the girl
I see you
Do you see me too?
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine
Come on through
I will find you
Close your eyes and meet me in the sunshine
Meet me in the sunshine
Meet me in the sunshine
song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cupid's Funeral
BY his side, whose days are past,
Lay bow and quiver!
And his eyes that stare aghast
Close, with a shiver.
God nor man from Death, at last,
Love may deliver.
Though—of old—we vowed, my dear,
Death should not take him;
Mourn not thou that we must here
Coldly forsake him;
Shed above his grave no tear—
Tears will not wake him.
Cupid lieth cold and dead—
Ended his flying,
Pale his lips, once rosy-red,
Swift was his dying.
Place a stone above his head,
Turn away, sighing.
poem by Victor James Daley
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Gaza
There is no God in the death camps of Gaza
God has chosen to ignore the genocide
There are no NEWS cameras of the big three
None speak disparaging remarks
against the holy state of Israel
In the center of Gaza is the army of the beast
against people ravaged by scarcity, hunger and thirst
and missiles made of match sticks
Caged in the bordered land of Gaza
captives of the Chosen Few
“Show me the Devil “ Tzipi says
They had open hands to show them
“Then show me your cards”
“We will beat you every time “ she adds
“We will beat you down like
Germany beat us, without considering humanity”.
“Like it says, we’re the chosen people”
She laid down the flush
Of raw sewage and blood
Of screaming babies, motherless and lost
“No one will see this “she says
“You are invisible to the world”.
poem by George Murdock
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Spirits Of The Dead
As the spirits of the dead
Rise from the fires of death
I feel a presence
In my minds eye
Of all the lost souls
Fighting for their lives
I hear a voice
In my head
Telling me they are dead
But then I hear
The shadowed souls
It is we who have lived
It is you who is lost
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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From The Desk Of A Renegade Socialist... (Chapter 33)
morning breaks, that they have not taken
from us, for they do not know how.
and all the weary stripes of the night,
the marks of turmoil, the blood stained
sweat, the blow of grieving spirits, and
the weight of the anger, are for a moment
lifted. yet the scars remain.
coffee makes in small apartments, in trailer
parks, in welfare housing, in soon to be
foreclosed houses, in run down diners, in
farm houses, in alone, stinking alone, wanting,
needing, hoping against hope dwellings of the
common all across America.
teachers laid off, or underpaid, in book burning
banning ignorance.... firefighters who cant make
it on what they make. minimum wage cashiers,
nurse's aides, trash collectors..... without a chance.
angry lost kids who need education forced into
military service or prison.
human rights violated, or taken. free speech an
illusion. and the hatred, always the fearing,
discriminating, condemning hatred that they push,
on tv, in the news, propaganda, clothed often in religion
or morality... all to keep us divided, and so not a
threat to their kingdom.
the drug of distant success, keep your eyes on your wants,
what we tell you you should want... turn your face
from your neighbor, take care of yourself.
but our consciences know better. our hearts know
differently. our souls demand the truth. and the truth
is we are one!
one race, the human race. one family, humanity. equal
in the need for dignity, for respect. equal in sacredness.
men and women equal in value. all religions, all languages,
all colors of skin, equal!
and now begins the work of breaking down the barriers,
of extending hands, of breaking the glass of ignorance,
of getting involved.
of assuming the responsibility that is already ours. of
walking naked in the light. of being human. of listening,
and daring to learn from each other. of exploring doubt
in search of the truth. of admitting i dont understand,
the first step of understanding. of knowing the face of
god in every living being. for there is no deeper holiness.
again, of being human.
stand up, and walk! wake up, and live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stuck On Themselves
Those seeking to be understood,
Are stuck on themselves.
Instead of living lives like they should,
Their flaws become someone else's fault.
And quick they are to hide their blunders,
In a charade of masquerades.
Only to say how strong their faith is!
To deliver their best of repeated hypocrisies.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I am not all that i am supposed to be
A cry a sigh a reason why
this world should be for me
No sanity, humanity
Can ever let me be
I close my eyes from troubled skies
Pretend I am elsewhere
But all around the folk I've found
Would rather I'm not there.
From days alone in mortgaged home
To Nights where sleep was lost
A price to pay for every day
It all comes down to cost.
The single tear then born from fear
Exposed your weaker side
A striking pose with runny nose
Your feelings you can't hide.
Confidence or on the fence
Our very soul at risk
No in-between for troubled teen
The punishment as brisk
So don't let bile turn people vile
Just be the friend you can
No medals earned for people spurned
Just love your fellow man.
poem by Dave James
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How Do I Get Close
Living in a world where the flesh is cheap.
Body touches body but its only skin deep.
I can hold you in my arms every time that you weep
But weve lost that emotional flow.
Living on a planet full of emptiness
With maximum exposure full of sleaziness
But the make up on your face cant disguise loneliness
Where designer feelings are in vogue, what do they know?
Darlin darlin how do I get close to you when im
Trying, trying my heart is reaching out to you
How do I get close to you?
In this world without feeling,
Where words have no meaning,
If I were lying, lying,
Id have more chance of reaching you but im,
Crying, crying, but I cant get my message through,
How do I get close to you?
Get close to the sinners trying hard to repent
Get close to the homeless wasters and the innocent
Get close to the souls ignored and forgotten by the
Establishment.
People get afraid to touch in case it rubs off on them
Gotta get close, yeah people gotta stay close, close.
People gotta stay close.
Though we seem together, its breaking my heart.
This world is full of barriers that keep us apart.
Keep it superficial before feelings can start
In a world thats all glitter and glow, what do they know?
Darlin, darlin, I cant communicate to you without
Crying, crying, I cant get a message through
How do I get close to you?
How can I get close?
How can I get close?
Darlin, darlin, how do I get close to you when youre
Surviving surviving in a world thats making us confused
Guess Im afraid of losing you.
In this world without feeling.
Somehow we gotta stay close.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High Profile
They came to socialize,
In the best of their wardrobes...
And the least of their concerns.
They mingle and flutter around
On 'A' lists
Taking little risks to campaign
For those in need.
Even though they may be constituents...
These 'representators' have other priorities,
To line their pockets to feed more greed.
They have scrubbed faces...
And credentials to impress!
Photo op name droppers,
Who give interviews to the local press.
Sharing strategies to keep
Building upon their golden nests.
And those that they use,
Will continue to be abused.
Until they who leech upon them,
Have been exposed without question...
As high profile pests!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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