Highly Suspicious Of The Lack Of Authenticity
How can a lie lived by anyone protect?
Or mosquito netting adorned by a mosquito...
Keep one from being bitten,
If already living in a nest of them.
Someone is not accepting,
What to me should have been confessed.
'You...
And the rest of us,
ARE...
In fact,
Mosquitoes.
Yes!
It is true.
That overdressing you do overkills.
From it you should undo.
Weep 'not' my child!
Look around you.
There's not a fly in the bunch! '
I never understood those who choose,
To walk on paths in a forest...
And afraid to confront insects.
Or build fabulous homes where no one roams,
Yet they brag about having an arsenal of weapons...
To feel safe and protected.
From what...
Common sense?
One drenched in trinkets,
And smothered by coverings of plastic...
Does not hide behind masks that crack.
But no one using a mind to think,
Can approach them to tell them that.
Or show them that a wear and tear from usage...
Produces signs of overindulgence.
How can a lie lived by anyone protect?
And from what?
Others also spicing a life lived in deception mode?
Those blinded by the shining of rusting bling?
THINGS that dust untouched and from them no love...
Is heard to be stated,
Much!
Or at all.
A lie eventually exposes everything.
And if one is connected to Mother Nature,
Like we all are...
Since there is no escaping from Her.
Who amongst any of us,
Can successfully masquerade as a tree?
Without another tree knowing?
OR being highly suspicious,
Of the lack of authenticity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Life Alone
How does one justify a life lived alone
How does one love if they have never been shown
A life lived alone is a life lived in vain
A life lived alone has very little to gain
Why would anyone choose to live this way
Why would anyone choose to be alone everyday
Is it living alone a shy reality to blame
Is it living alone yet another of societys shame
I stand here alone with a tear in my eye
I stand here alone and wish to understand why.
'closing thought'
A singles life can have its moments of pleasure
But a family life is filled with memories to treasure
poem by Gordon Jerome
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Child Asked
A child asked 'Why am I here? '
with eyes as bright as a star.
The answer was given and understood.
'To be just who you are.'
Content with what she heard that day,
she lived her life and knew
that everything she wanted in life
is what she would try to do.
A child asked 'Why am I here? '
with hesitant eyes so sad.
The answer was given but not understood.
'To try to never be bad.'
Upset with what he heard that day
he lived his life in fear,
afraid that whatever he did in life
would always bring a tear.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Even In Their Places Kept Secret
Remember when you thought it fun,
To dump on those
You believed had no allies to come?
And you did this,
With abandonment.
Blinded with merriment,
To pick and choose who to inflict.
Well,
As you enjoyed those moments with glee...
Those you depicted as your enemies,
Never considered to employ the use weapons...
To release upon you their grief!
There is no revengeful need to approach you in that way.
Not when truth produces such power...
That reveals and exposes,
Minds like yours devoured by their own deceit.
They will not have anywhere to rest in peace.
Not even in their places kept secret!
Not even if a return to the cracks and crevices,
From where they crawled...
Should smothered them in darkness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mosquito
Un mosquito
Cest un moustique en colre
Un mosquito
Pique et pique et pique dans la chair
Un mosquito
a pond ses oeufs dans nous rivires
Un mosquito
a vit au milieu de ses frres... un mosquito
Un mosquito
a rve loin de nos rizires
Un mosquito
a prfre la chaleur
Un mosquito
a frappe la tte la premire
Un mosquito
a boit du sang chaud ordinaire... un mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les modestes et les beaux
Mosquito
a pique chaud
Mosquito
Chez les bonzs, les plots
Un mosquito
Cest un moustique qui galre
Un mosquito
Pique et pique et pique dans ta chair
Un mosquito
Cest un mchant hlicoptre
Un mosquito
a vit du sang chaud des baigneurs... un mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les gentils les salauds
Mosquito
Et a pique chaud
Mosquito
Mme le chiens et les oiseaux
Mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les modestes et les beaux
Mosquito
a pique chaud
Mosquito
Chez les bronzs, les plots
Mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les gentils les salauds
Mosquito
a pique chaud
Mosquito
Mme les chiens et les oiseaux
song performed by by Vanessa Paradis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem Tree
The poem tree is a very safe haven,
for birds and fowl, a hawk, a raven, or
a little barn owl.The tree could be a
silhouette, or the finest place to raise
your pet.The poem tree could bear
the fruit of life.Such as apples and
pears, with morning dew.A wonderful
place to play the flute.The poem tree
could have a nest.Giving birds with
eggs, a place to rest.It could capture
a kite who someone lost, or be bitten
by the morning frost.It could capture
a balloon, which went astray, or drop
all its leaflets by the bay.The poem
tree could have a lollipop, or maybe
a candycane, umbrella branches, to
stop the rain.The tree could protect
all animals, from an oncoming flood,
and keep all the tree bugs out of the
mud.Above the tree the sun will shine.
Home for a raccoon, or a porcupine..
The Poem Tree by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011.All rights reserved.
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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How Far Above It Can Not Being Of It Be?
After many decades spent,
Living lives on dwindling cash...
And value placed on cards,
Made of plastic...
Senses seem to be coming back,
To minds lost...
In luxurized strife and hustle.
People are finding,
That a basic life can be lived happily.
And detached from rusting things,
Overtaxed!
To come back to oneself,
With renewed understanding...
Is a gift!
People are finding,
A walk through nature...
Can be relaxing.
A quiet park visited...
Can be more welcomed,
Than the constant sounds of flapping lips.
And people arguing over redundant nonsense.
As if attached to habits no one wishes to break.
People are finding themselves.
Realizing crack addicts,
Dope fiends...
And other reflections of their environments,
Had only been an elevator ride away.
As they tried to rise above it.
But...
How far above it,
Can not being of it be?
And...
How far into the woods,
Can one breathe without a tree?
How far away...
How far above...
How deep below...
Can one go,
To be in this 'experience'...
And not of it be?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today I Had to Forgive Myself (My Life Is Meant to be Lived)
I saw something I had never seen before,
Once I looked beyond my own sorrows.
I lifted my head and saw an open door.
A light was shining through,
To show me tomorrow.
With promises I once wished,
But had not pursued.
I lived with a stagnation...
That came and overstayed,
A temporary reservation...
I made when feeling down,
And knocked out!
Drugged on self debasement.
Feeling nothing could replace...
This empty space within me.
And I knew then...
If I was to walk through that door,
Today I had to forgive myself...
And not let my burdens feel too welcomed.
As I had done countless times before.
Tossing my pain and self doubt about!
They could stay for as long as they wanted!
And entertain grief that came to visit.
But I had no intentions to remain with them,
Sustaining their attention or their comfort.
I kept deep within to repeat again and again.
A hollow search I felt had no end.
My life is meant to be lived.
Not to sit and forget to refresh my perceptions.
My life is meant to be lived.
And when I made up my mind,
I knew I would find...
A release of darkness that would diminish.
Once I allowed my guilt to deplenish,
I prepared to say goodbye to despair!
Knowing to leave that behind me to become fully aware...
My life is meant to be lived.
My life is meant to be lived.
My life...
Is meant to be lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God's Christmas Tree
The traveler told me,
That He had walked far.
And He knew,
He had not much father to go,
Than He asked me,
Did I see the Christmas tree,
With a bright star,
covered in blankets of snow,
Fighting for life,
against nature and man's war.
Needing to find peace for the soul,
Touched by a angel's tear.
Standing alone out in the cold.
Once there was a little Christmas tree,
Adorned with a heavenly star,
Covered with soft blankets of snow,
every year,
The little tree would grow.
Sometime someone would come along.
Leaving footprints in the falling snow,
When they are far from home,
Somewhere out in the cold.
They could see the star on the tree,
Covered with soft blankets of snow.
The little Christmas tree seems to glow.
Decorated By God's hand.
A gift for every man.
A soft light,
in the dark night,
Offering peace for the soul.
See God's Christmas tree,
Adorned with a heavenly star,
A reminder of love,
A star from above,
For the world to see.
God's Christmas tree.
He didn't choose the tallest.
tree in the forest.
He saw that little tree stand alone.
A place where the soul can rest,
While the traveler walks home.
Did you see?
God's Christmas tree.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bling Obsessed
If people were not intentionally programmed,
To be envious...
Manipulating them would not be so easily effective.
Even those budding to branch out from one tree,
Choose to flaunt the artificialness of their possessions.
And for what purpose to obtain?
Seconds under spotlight with no lasting flame,
Before its over?
Show me something that strengthens the tree,
Not weaken it.
And 'you'?
Yes you...
You have every right to flaunt as much as you want.
Knowing there were good deeds done you did.
However...
Many environments are nests for bling obsessed fools,
Pre-occupied with the making of false impressions.
Without one investment made to claim turf where they leech.
To voice the shallowness of their quick lived dreams.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freed of the Thought of Foreclosure
Look...
It is what it is!
When did you begin,
To acknowledge that fact?
When did you begin,
To focus your sights on that?
If things are seen as whacked.
And way off track.
It is what it is!
Perhaps for you,
All of this has been a quiz!
You just didn't want to see it,
As it is.
You wished to see it,
As an affliction affecting...
Others you were taught to detest.
Now that 'mess' you ignored...
Has come to lay upon your own doorstep,
To comfortably rest.
Look...
It is what it is!
When did you begin,
To acknowledge that fact?
When did you begin,
To believe your ideals were being attacked?
Now you find yourself sleeping with a weapon.
Feeling safe and secured.
Keeping sure you are protected...
In a neighborhood free of enemies.
Enduring agonies.
Knowing you can not trust who lives next door!
Who's life are you living?
And what is your life lived for?
When you just might kill yourself...
To escape from your own safety zone!
Freed of the thought of foreclosure.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before Your Love
I wonder how I ever made it through a day
How did I settle for a world with shades of gray?
When you go in circles all the scenery looks the same
And you don't know why
Then I looked into your eyes
And the road stretched out in front of me
And I realized
Chorus:
I never lived
Before your love
I never felt
Before your touch
I never needed anyone to make me feel alive
But then again
I wasn't really living
I never lived
Before your love
I wanted more than just an ordinary life
All of my dreams seemed like castles in the sky
I stand before you and my heart is in your hands
And I don't know how
I survived without your kiss
Cause you've given me a reason to exist
Chorus
I never lived before your love
And I don't know why
Why the sun decides to shine
But you breathed your love into just in time
I never lived
Before your love
I never felt
Before your touch
I never needed anyone to make me feel alive
But then again
I wasn't really living
I never lived
I never lived
Before your love
song performed by by Kelly Clarkson from American Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Lived One More LIfe... I Would
If I lived one more life
I would melt by the gentle sight of you
I would believe that your love is true
I would erase my fake intention
I would hold back all my foolish emotion
If I lived one more life
I would read all yr colorful envelopes
I would never burn your words of hopes
I would cherish your banner on the wall
I would make sure it will never fall
If I lived one more life
I would pick up your call night & days
I would guarantee your mind not decays
I would let my door open at all time
I would safe your sanity to prevent any crime
If I lived one more life
I would stand before you on my knee
I would beg your family to forgive me
I would plead to share your torture
I would fight to bring back your future
If I lived one more life
I would endure all your hate
I would accept you as my fate
I would strive to give you the best of me
I would die in your arms and be happy
If I lived one more life … I would
Dedicated to D.N.R – It’s been 14 years… This is my apology, I mean every word.
poem by Niken Kusuma Wardani
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The Givers
Snip it.
What complaint would you have,
IF you had a heart that gave?
Quit it?
You are just part of this experience,
Life!
It is not about you or your whims!
The givers receive no attention at all.
And there you are falling down with tantrums!
Going ignored are your calls.
Snip it quick.
Shut your lips.
No tree grows from a branch.
When a leaf is released from it,
It dies, to wither and rust from its visit.
Connected are we all to this,
Life!
All your needs could be met...
IF your greed did not set things,
Off balance.
With needs you only feed.
One day you will learn,
All your suffering has been well earned...
By you!
Feeling screwed by the things you do?
You wouldn't feel this way,
IF you lived each day to 'give'!
You look for ways to take, use and squander!
That's why you wonder and wander...
Seeking to reap from life what is good!
What have you done?
Are you looking for ways to give to anyone?
Or are you here just to take?
Well...
Take this!
Shut your lips,
And learn what it is to give!
And all that this life is,
Can be yours.
You will receive what is deserved.
The givers serve without a mumbling word!
And all that is heard from you...
Are offers to undo what is done.
Takers get back,
That which has been given...
And comes to them in abundance!
A rusting of a nothingness achieved.
Leaving them with the results,
Of their selfish and hoarded greed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Those Who Choose to Be Connected That Way!
Trying to enforce one's point of view,
In someone else's home...
In their backyard and on their land,
Ultimately achieves unexpected defeat.
For those who believe it is easy to deceive.
Especially if old tactics have proven successful,
In the past!
Today...
Those of higher consciousness are spiritually connected.
In ways understood that deception and use of weapons,
Are as worthless as a car in need of gas to get it started.
Or whatever method today is used that one finds depleted.
It's very much like this in a basic scenerio...
~Arrogance and high expectations,
Is commendable for one attempting to achieve goals set
For oneself.
However...
Danger lurks,
If one perceives another to be so naive
Not to eventually tire of one's deception.
Especially when nothing genuine has been exchanged,
For a show of hospitality that is expressed.
And has been accepted by those understanding this,
For generations.
Someone can expect an eventual rude awakening.~
And that's just a part of human nature.
For those who choose to be connected that way!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In His Eyes! And Ours
Times then were lived,
Within our means.
We valued being clean.
Respected as expected.
This is what everyone did without neglect.
And embraced hygiene!
This was a fact of life known and seen!
Sold on concepts of a desire to learn.
Wanting to comprehend lessons taught...
That broadened our lives with a competitiveness.
With a fear of limits ignorance welcomed.
And we then wished no part of this.
We sought to grow.
And this assisted with an identity dignity presented.
Times then were lived within our means.
To deceive...
Was then thought to be despicable.
To cheat and lie about it,
Did not excite or sit well...
With those who suffered through the consequences,
Of their ways that dismayed.
Today...
People talk the 'walk' but do not walk the talk.
People say they have good intentions.
But leave no evidence of it seen.
Today...
People talk about their standards and values.
As if this is held in an exclusiveness.
And a membership is required for this to be addressed.
Today...
People are obsessed with their possessions.
Their good credit scores and loans they can obtain.
Because they have maintained status given,
Although they keep blemishes hidden...
That may reveal their tainted names.
And they cheat.
Lie.
And deceive!
With lifestyles lived well above their means.
And yet,
When suspected...
Nothing about them is respected.
Nor do the judgements they pass on others...
Keep tax collectors from locking them out,
From foreclosed homes they bragged about.
OR...
Do they 'today' have the means to feed, protect
Or shelter themselves,
In peace.
Times we lived then,
Were lived within our means.
And we were taught to be grateful.
To feel we were blessed.
And we should express this to God.
On a daily basis kept routined!
Like promises we made to ensure we had good hygiene.
And then God...
And only God,
Will make sure our lives lived were lived right!
In His eyes!
And ours.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Connected To Humanity
Too connected to humanity,
To feel completely free.
Although I am committed,
To have my own peace of mind...
I still find I am happiest,
When near and close to those I love.
Too connected I am to those I care about.
Even those I see on a daily basis I don't know...
I give and show respect I don't in return get.
And yet,
I am not expecting it...
In wishes it to be given.
Too connected to humanity and accepting it.
With each moment lived to express gratefulness.
And to do that with the acknowledgement,
I can only be free to observe and learn.
Not be isolated with a freedom earned...
Yet to become upset,
Since my senses are not satisfied by my yearning...
To be held and touched.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muscoviet Musquito
I must write a letter to you
I must make myself clear
It is spot on time, right on cue
I am a clam, somebody said to me
Its obscene, there must be a motive behind
Its obscure. there must be someone behind
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A vivid image anyway
Someone said, youre a clam,
Consider this !
Mmm, listen oh, listen to me, youre far
A thousand miles away from here
I am here, I am here in this ooze through country
Trampled down by mega people
A dispute will never end
A retrospection ,it sounds obscene
A disconnection,
A final balance sheet for muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito, it sound obscene
It sound so obscure, for muscovite mosquito
My final balance sheet is gone...... for
Muscovite mosquito, muscovite mosquito
Its spot on time, right on cue
You missed the chance, somebody vexedly said
Its obscene, there must be motives behind
Its obscure, there must be someone behind
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fruits of Mankind
Taste the bitterness of the fruits
that grow and rot within.
They lack the kindness that erupts
and oozes out as sin.
These fruits are part of every tree,
the tree from which they've grown.
They look like all the other fruit
but are different and they've known.
what lies within them is not right
and still they do conceal,
hoping to blend in with all the rest
until the skin does peel.
The tree cannot be blamed for this.
It's just the way things are.
We must discard these fruits to protect the rest
or they will leave their scar.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Treecreepers
Elusive birds them one don't often see
Treecreepers build their cup shaped nest of bark behind loose bark of tree
From predators concealed and hidden away
And pinkish spotted eggs the female lay.
Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear
They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near
Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side
Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.
They will never be renowned as birds of song
Though their familiar chirps one hardly could get wrong
The ornithologists and bird watchers on studying them don't spend much of their time
And they seldom have inspired the poets to rhyme.
From the day they leave the nest until the day they die
From ground up they climb the tree and then to the next tree fly
To climb again in search of invertebrates such things they like to eat
They must have great strength in their tiny feet
In wooded places they like to reside
And from predators their cup shaped nest they hide
Shy little birds when human to them venture near
To the other side of the tree trunk they disappear.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Came
You Came
I remained before you came
After your arrival I remain also
Ballie bloomed before you came
Crow used to cawing at dawn
The barking dog used to embrace me
As soon as I reached to it
Some feature after your arrival
But amongst this something differ
What is that something?
I asked it to a street boy-
He replied, how can I answer-
This footpath was bedroom of my grand father
That was before 1947
Grand father could not sleep because of British mosquito
My father’s expression was same
He was destroyed due to Pakistani mosquito
And what’s about-
The mosquito grew up socking blood of me
Grand father and father- Will let me off?
But I have heard, If this government
May come for next term-
Government will give us mosquito curtain each.
In the previous periods none gave this commitment.
If really I get the mosquito curtain
Then, like my life
Answer of your `something’ will get.
--0--
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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