Immediately Connected
My eyes have laid on the Sun,
For many moons.
And for most of my life,
I have been creatively active.
Both on and off stage...
I've gone through many phases.
And I am blessed to be able to address it,
In this manner.
From writing on walls...
To having my writings read on the internet,
I must confess...
Amazes me.
IF I had 'just' developed this interest...
I wouldn't be that impressed.
Or feel a sense of accomplishment.
And I still use a pad and pen,
To keep this discipline as fresh as possible.
Since electricity isn't as dependable,
When I have a need...
To be immediately connected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Guess Who Will Be Still Writing?
You say to me,
You can not read 'all' of my poems.
As if your comments will stop my productivity!
And this process I am blessed to have and given to me.
There are writings of mine no one has yet to read.
But they will seem just as fresh...
As if you can feel the heat of my breath,
Whatever poem of mine you decide to read.
And even if you decide not to bother...
Guess who will be still writing?
Attempting to find different ways to express!
Guess.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In a Manner of Speaking
In a manner of speaking, I want to kill you,
said the drunk redneck to his wife,
In a manner of speaking, I don't love you,
said my ex (turned vegan) to me,
as I returned from a psych ward, hoping for
some sort of reconciliation,
And in a manner of speaking, the whole
world has gone to shit, that no mentally
unbalanced poet can improve upon,
In a manner of speaking, I was just a haiku
before I birthed an epic poem in 2008
and it went something like:
In a manner of speaking…
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
beer and loose women,
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
internet journals with useless information,
In a manner of speaking, there are plenty of
assholes writing about getting laid and anal sex
on MySpace,
In a manner of speaking, my friend got raped
a few years ago and now has occasional herpes
outbreaks, which are quite disturbing
to her husband,
In a manner of speaking, I'm losing faith in humanity
and love at times,
In a manner of speaking, we just go through the motions,
hoping for something to change or something
spectacular to happen.
But I don't really know any more,
trying to make sense of it all, screaming for some sort of
sanity that eludes me,
In a manner of speaking, I feel alone here,
unable to connect to what's around me-
I just told some guy at a bar that I was a Dallas Cowboys
fan and I don't even watch football,
and he told me to come in my 'gear' on Sunday,
In a manner of speaking, I feel somewhat liberated
because I have no clue as to what I'm doing,
knowing that there is really no escape.
January 8,2008
-Alexander Shaumyan
poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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Give Me A Reason To Address The Same Enthusiasm
I have no need to have anyone,
Show me the evidence...
That identifies my own footprints.
From where I have been.
I need not to be convinced,
They have been cemented.
I am the experience of them.
I did not initially lay them to trace.
I am conscious!
But not self obsessed.
It is a new day with a fresh dawn.
My feet with eyes on a path I walk,
Moves forward.
And I move on!
Now...
If you are watching me,
With any degree of interest...
I suggest,
You begin to establish your own impressions.
And do that at 'your' best.
I am happy you are impressed with those of mine.
However...
Make those you can say you have made,
To enable us both to be equally impressed!
Give me a reason to address the same enthusiasm.
I also seek to be entertained as well.
And that means...
You must be constantly in the business of doing it.
To get any attention from me expected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Must Confess
Today I confess to you
one of my biggest fears
That you don’t feel the same as I do.
Today I confess to you
one of my greatest joys
For this feeling gives me great happiness.
Today I confess to you
my grandest accomplishment
To be able to have this feeling.
Today I must confess to you
That seeing you
Makes me feel complete.
Today I must confess to you
That your touch
Heals all my pain.
Today I must confess to you
what I feel is painful
And it makes it more grand.
Today I must confess to you
That no one shares
What my heart feels for you.
Today I must confess to you
My deepest feeling,
I love you!
poem by Maria Segura
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Scribbles Transcribed
Some write for glory and for fame.
I write because I am obsessed
and wordplay is my favourite game.
I concentrate on poetry
Because I find it to my taste
and pass my time creatively.
I could not sit and watch T.V
and live my life vicariously.
That would drive me to insanity.
I have a wide vocabulary
which I love to exercise
Harmless but it amuses me.
What better way to pass the time
than writing formal poetry
I do not find it hard to rhyme
I’ll never be a household name
Which does not bother me at all.
I write for fun and not for fame.
My writing will not make me rich
I very rarely publish it
I merely write to scratch my itch.
My pad and pen accompany me
No matter where I choose to go
Though I scribble illegibly.
Record what takes my interest
and jot down anything I see.
When I get home I do my best.
To read the jottings I have made
which is sometimes difficult
as pencilled words tend to fade.
I find that if I persevere
for long enough I understand
enough to make it very clear.
I sometimes wish that I could write
In a clear and cursive script
If I had perhaps I might.
But I am too impatient to write
All of down the things I want to
My scribbling will have to do.
Thank God for printers and P.Cs
So when I post its legible
and you can read my verse with ease.
The feed back which you give to me.
I read with greatest interest.
And it improves my poetry.
My hand writing will never be
capable of being read
by anybody else but me..
(18-Jun-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I also administer the Internet Assigned Names Authority, which is the central coordinator for the Internet address space, domain names and Internet protocol conventions essential to the use and operation of the Internet.
quote by Jon Postel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking To Bargain
Satisfaction came to me one day...
And it wasn't discounted or marked down.
From a price I originally could not afford.
It came to me priceless,
Fresh and packaged.
I'm glad it came to me that way.
I was looking to bargain my senses,
On something cheap...
Probably used,
And maybe borrowed.
I wasn't desperate!
I do want to make that clear.
However...
I was thisclose to it!
It was panting on my neck.
That's how close I had been.
I could almost feel the teeth marks...
Biting into my unconcerned flesh.
I was a mess.
I was reaching to treat a temporary craving,
When I was suddenly hit in the head...
By a piece of falling common sense!
I grabbed onto it quickly.
I knew what it was immediately!
I had used it once before...
And 'lost' it in a fit of rage!
Certainly something I'm not proud of,
BUT!
I know when I've been blessed,
To discover a rare find!
And I'm so proud of it...
I'm going to show it off as often as I can!
Hopefully,
No one will ask me how I got it!
I wouldn't be able to tell them where.
I'll just let them know it's mine!
And it's not up for trade!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unload the Excess Baggage
I am not the one,
To walk around validating...
Every pinch felt from an illness.
Or am I the one to carry pain,
As if I've been awarded...
A medal for valor and honor.
Each day as I pray...
And after I awaken,
I feel tremendously blessed...
That God has pulled my sisters and I,
Through much heartbreak and stress.
We, in those days, believed we needed to address.
And when I hear some folks,
Making excuses for mistakes they've made...
I can go through any day,
Without seeking to be medicated.
To fake my feelings to numb the aches.
I want to keep it real.
That's how I feel.
I am not the one,
To walk around validating...
Every pinch felt from an illness.
Nor am I the one,
Seeking to skate through a life...
Speeded by an easy breeze.
God has blessed me!
And I know this.
And there is nothing better I can do...
Than to hold my head up,
And unload the excess baggage.
To live the best life feeling grateful.
And blessed to be able to confess it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Get the Hint?
If you read my words,
You wouldn't have to ask
What it is I meant.
If, indeed, you say you understand...
What you confess to me makes little sense.
If one comprehends,
A flow that is out of the box.
Where does the conflict begin to start?
If you say you understand,
With your head and heart!
If you read my words,
You wouldn't have to ask
What it is I meant.
Unless you are seeking more from me?
Like if I brush my teeth,
With regular toothpaste...
Or if it is scented with mint!
Since nothing else you have said thus far,
Does not entice me to ask you...
To move in with me and share paying my rent.
It you are reading my words,
You should know by now...
Being alone to me is not lonely!
And my peace of mind has been heaven sent.
Get the hint?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As Fresh As Dawn Awakens
Today,
My eyes and mind...
Are not on mistakes I've made.
Nor are they concentrated,
On aches and pains I've had.
Or the passing of judgements of others!
Today,
As fresh as dawn awakens my sensibilities...
I reach and desire something fresh to experience.
I want to witness and participate with nature.
I want to feel assessible to anyone that approaches.
I wish to remove every restriction,
Others may around them have!
Today,
My eyes and mind...
Are not on mistakes I've made.
Nor are they concentrated,
On aches and pains I've had.
Or the passing of judgements of others!
Today,
I am going to pray and be grateful.
Today,
And everyday thereafter I am blessed to breathe,
God is going to hear me express how blessed I am.
And not a complaint will I address.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Photogenic
Every picture I've seen of you,
Looks nothing like you at all.
'Who said anything,
About my desires to be photogenic? '
No one.
But who selected those pictures?
'Have you read my writings? '
Yes,
I have.
Why?
How is that connected to anything?
'Would you want to be recognized? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In the life of children there are two very clear-cut phases, before and after puberty. Before puberty the child's personality has not yet formed and it is easier to guide its life and make it acquire specific habits of order, discipline, and work after puberty the personality develops impetuously and all extraneous intervention becomes odious, tyrannical, insufferable. Now it so happens that parents feel the responsibility towards their children precisely during this second period, when it is too late then of course the stick and violence enter the scene and yield very few results indeed. Why not instead take an interest in the child during the first period
quote by Antonio Gramsci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Electricity
Our one source of energy
The ultimate discovery
Electric blue for me
Never more to be free
Electricity
Nuclear and hep
Carbon fuels from the sea
Wasted electricity
Our one source of energy
Electricity
All we need to live today
A gift for man to throw away
The chance to change has nearly gone
The alternative is only one
The final source of energy
Solar electricity
Electricity
Electricity
Electricity
Electricity
Electricity
E . . .
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am the Internet zombie
I am the Internet zombie
I have no heart
Because no-one
Talks to me
I have no ears
My hands are out
In front of me
Com Zombie
I do not like sky
Or fresh air
Just the bright screen
In front of me
I am the Internet zombie
I do not eat
I do not leave
My office bedroom
I do not sleep
Instead I zzz the screen
Just read me
I am the Internet zombie
poem by Harriet James
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Writings On The Wall
The writings on the wall brother
Your life is in your hands
Its up to you to see the writings on the wall.
It looks you in the eye mister
Its time we stand up tall
Go see and understand the writings on the wall.
Strange we hold on to things that have no grace
Or power
While death holds on to us much more with every
Passing hour
And all the time you thought it would last
Your life, your friends would always be
til theyre drunk away or shot away or die away
From you.
Theres nothing that you need sister
The lord is in you all
Life is designed to see the writings on the wall.
The musics in the air mothers
You may have heard it call
To you that you may see the writings on the wall.
Be careful going home sister
Be watchful down that road
Youve got a lot of love sister
More to grow.
The writings on the wall brothers
Your life is in your hands
Its up to you to see the writings on the wall
I hope that you may see the writings on the wall.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Single String
Name stands for a thing
For its contents and quality.
Name stands for a person
For his body and soul.
When a horse is named,
The name says it’s a horse
And also further says
That it’s not any other.
God is a name given.
Saturn is a name spelt.
They are abstract nouns
Known by imagination.
To understand names
The language must be read.
To know the language,
The speaker must be read.
When we address living things,
We address their inner things
Which are inner connected
As soul, a single string.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A matter of form for friend leslie
Consistency and symmetry
combined with meter seem to be
Ingredients of good poetry.
Though modernists will disagree.
They take a different point of view.
Convinced that anything will do
That writers need not follow rules
and those who do they see as fools
Consider rhyming is a crime
and meter just a waste of time.
But can this kind of writing last?
like that of poets from the past.
I don’t dispute they have the right
to choose the way in which they write.
Poetic prose can be divine
but not if it lacks discipline.
Your writing must be coherent.
A well established precedent
If what you write does not make sense.
What can be said in its defence?
If readers cannot comprehend
the message which you try to send
Because your meaning is not plain.
Perhaps its time to think again.
And realise there must be rules.
A craftsman has to know his tools.
If he does not then he will fail
his efforts all to no avail.
Some readers will choose poetry
and others prose preferably
It is your reader’s right to choose
to read your writings or refuse.
If you don’t cater to their needs
don’t be surprised if no one reads.
If how you write is too obscure.
Then change your style. The only cure.
30/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Disconnected
I watch you stumble through the morning
I watch you stumble home at night
Silhouetted by a sun without sunlight
I've watched you walk straight through an evening
When you're laden with the day
And the light of the moon, it only gets in your way
From a bedroom window I was anyone
And the street I look upon is my runaway
But I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I'm connected to the place that I don't feel like I'm from
This is the kind of town where everyone knows each other
And everyone hates that they know each other
And no one is getting any younger
From my bedroom window I was anyone
Every street I look upon could be a runaway
But I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I'm connected to the place that I don't feel like I'm from
I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I don't feel connected from
So move on here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong
You'll never belong
You don't belong here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong
You'll never belong
You don't belong here now
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somehow I Am Immediately Alerted
If I can express,
From my own point of view...
A committment to honesty,
As 'my' experience with it
Allows me to be.
With a self assessment...
That encourages I should be limitation free.
I will not be seeking opinions,
As to how my own impressions...
Affect me emotionally,
Mentally or physically.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
Or why my feelings are felt,
The way I feel them.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
Nor am I going to address that in debate.
To await who wins!
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
If I say I feel a certain way about my life...
I do not seek a validation.
Nor will I take random surveys.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
Any emotions I can not define...
That are mine,
Has very little to do with outside observations.
No needs do I have to schedule visits,
With qualifying psychiatrists.
Or analytical dissections of dysfunctions,
Performed by anyone ordained...
To deliver sermons from a pulpit.
And...
Who believes themselves to be more in touch,
With 'my' reality.
Since all my realities have my name on them!
My creditors will vouch for that!
And would be happy I've made any attempts,
To contact them at all!
So if there is anyone who is in doubt,
About what comes out of my mouth.
Know this...
Any questions I may have,
About my life and directions I take...
To broaden my own awareness,
Will 'first' be heard by God.
And what is decided from 'our' conferences...
More than likely!
And will produce all the comprehension I need.
Unless God is not available.
And it is rare I've had to reschedule,
Priorities to accomodate my visits with Him...
Her or IT.
So far,
I've been extremely fortunate...
To find I am expected.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted about this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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