In Moods Consistent With The Times
Sometimes it is best,
Not to express feelings...
Of being elated on a daily basis.
Since some people who nurture,
Their bad attitudes persistently...
And...
In moods consistent with the times,
Would prefer to think...
Those who make attempts,
To display no contempt outwardly...
Are actually the ones out of their minds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Making This A Rule Communicated
There are times when it does pay,
To be of a different kind of mind.
With an offering that expands...
Choices unexpectedly for some to find.
Few today are dedicated.
And show themselves to be elated,
With an awakening everyday anticipating...
Love to witness and joy that is shared.
Choosing they do to move from moods to prove,
That...
Everyone has a choice to improve or change their tune,
And...
Dump excuses made with attitudes to refuse.
With...
A shooing them to the curb to boot.
There are those who choose to move from moods to prove,
That...
Everyone has a choice to improve or change their tune.
And...
Dump excuses made with attitudes to refuse.
With...
A shooing them to the curb to boot.
And...
Making this a rule communicated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mood Colours
At times, we describe our moods in colours
that pass by our eyes each day.
There are our blue moods,
those when we are down.
Then there are our red moods
whenever our temper flares.
Our black moods are colourless
and the most dangerous of them all.
Our sunshine moods are when the world is golden
and smiles are all we see.
Pink shades our loving moods
and to the world, we show we care
as our love shines through.
Our moods can change quickly
as we pass through the rainbow spectrum
within our daily lives.
15 January 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dark The Moods
Dark the moods.
Dark too those attitudes.
The ones that 'use' to visit and annoy,
When I felt quite defeated.
Dark the moods.
Dark too those attitudes.
I could not rid or alone leave.
On me they fed as if a feast to feed.
I had to freeze all emotions,
Shown and worn on my sleeve.
They were too easily revealed.
Too easily perceived.
I had to pick myself up,
Off my knees.
There was a comfort in it,
With a welcome of a hopelessness that pleased.
Dark the moods.
Dark too those attitudes.
I could not rid or alone leave.
On me they fed as if a feast to feed.
Dark the moods.
Dark too those attitudes.
The ones that 'use' to visit and annoy,
When I felt quite defeated.
I had to freeze all emotions worn on my sleeve.
Dark the moods.
Dark too those attitudes.
I had to pick myself up off my knees.
Dark the moods.
Dark too those attitudes.
They 'use' to visit me when I...
They 'use' to visit me when I...
They 'use' to visit me when I felt,
Quite DEFEATED!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Startled
People are such mysterious creatures to observe.
When it's believed
Someone seen on a daily basis,
Has no worth they can detect.
That person becomes like them...
Driven by bad luck and circumstance.
They are comfortable with not taking chances.
And 'good luck' is what they express in doubt!
However...
When it is discovered someone seen on a daily basis,
Has, in fact...
Achieved accomplishments,
In front of them and not behind their backs!
They become quite startled that someone like that...
Could care less about the methods used,
Or who determines how success is measured to reflect
One's influence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowing Very Little
Someone knows 'someone'
Who has been quick to express disappointment,
Regretted.
That 'someone' who believes,
They were annointed to know everything...
Just because God has given them air to breathe.
Those folks are the ones,
Who say they have no interest in politics.
Announcing that religion and politics do not mix.
And knowing very little about either.
And even knowing less on a daily basis.
They do not read or participate in community activities.
And yet appear on a neighbor's doorstep,
Out of breath to express...
'What in the world is going on?
Do you know what I just found out?
I 'heard' there were problems with the economy.
And there was this Black guy on TV...
MY TV!
Telling me about changes he is going to make.
What on Earth?
Have you seen him?
Is this some kind of a joke?
What happened to Bush?
I feel I am about to have a stroke! '
They remain confined,
Out of touch and time.
And soon...
Out of their minds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pretend a Disconnection Has Been Made
What we talk about...
Is that more important,
Than those feelings we feel?
What we do to ourselves and others.
Should we continue to excuse this?
As a way of life we choose?
A tolerated suppression,
Has led many to express unhappiness.
As if this was a gift to expect.
UNTIL 'all' of our efforts are made,
To improve our outlooks, funky moods and attitudes...
We can choose to do what some still do.
Strut away with lips shut.
Put stuck up butts on high shoulders.
And 'pretend' a disconnection,
Has been made!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Do I Express My Feelings?
How do I express my feelings
that runs so very deep,
when out of sight you are
in my daily wandering,
while our love is precious and pure?
When there is much more in the words:
'I love you'
than I can in any way express?
Maybe a mere gaze
at times says much more,
and maybe a single touch
has got a deeper meaning
but love is still more that this
in the way that it is.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Nosey Busybody Place Of Sly Snoopers
If 'ever' you wish to keep 'anything' to yourself,
In a nosey busybody place of sly snoopers...
It is imperative and to your benefit,
To keep the changing of masks done...
On a regular basis.
Or...
Restrict your display of showing moody attitudes,
To where you frequent as a shopper.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Daring To Be Self Righteous
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
And we weren't judging the depth taken,
Of someone's moral fiber dipped in decadence.
From a point of view that criticizes,
While we live our own hypocritical lives...
Daring to be self righteous,
As we all continue to patronize the height of sleaze.
And doing our best to climb that ladder with ease.
With a feeling to be entitled.
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
Although when publicized publicly...
There is a need instantly to defend a discipline,
That does not exist.
And when someone admits to us what we can kiss,
Immediately we become appalled.
With a wish to censor the innocence of 'children'...
Who are directly marketed to be as filthy as possible,
With the consent of all claiming to be 'trendy' and progressive.
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
And there was a benefit to our pretentions,
That were not so obviously seen cracking at the seams.
And our motives were not so obviously confused,
With a making of sense that today is nonexistent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Seek To Be Understood
Those who live unpredictable lives...
Speak of wishing to have more control over,
That which changes on a daily basis.
And they will not admit there is nothing consistent,
About their own actions they seek to be understood.
To then say they have no time to be aggravated,
By the ones who question what it is they do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Come To Go
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
They can be discussed on a daily basis.
Or ignored as they speed away.
These days that we have been given to witness,
Will be better off lived...
Then reminiscing how they were,
And what was done.
Too many will discover themselves lost,
In the things they once did.
And not prepare their minds for what comes,
With maintained faith and not delusions.
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited.
Especially when those changes made,
Aren't here to stay for anyone.
They come to go.
With no empathy shown,
To those who don't grow.
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited...
To live and adjust as they must.
Will discover all their beliefs,
Dusted.
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
A letting go,
Is the best thing to do to experience growth.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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From Behind a Cart They Push
I've become less impressed on a daily basis,
With those who wish to express their views...
From behind a cart they push.
To express to those who toil and pull from the front,
The standards they value and their expectations.
While providing no encouragement.
But insisting upon being treated with respect.
And dignity!
As those who pull dodge flagrant insults thrown...
Scouting out for safe passage!
And entertaining the whims of those,
Who have chosen to make rear view comments.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our character is basically a composite of our habits. Because they are consistent, often unconcious patterns, they constantly, daily, express our character.
quote by Stephen Covey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With A Kicking To The Curb
Although my journey...
Has seemed sometimes long,
With a prolonging of obstacles to face...
I have managed to slowly erase them with faith.
As well as a chasing away of 'expected' obstacles...
Presented to prevent what I must do each day.
I had to grow stronger and determined,
To prove for no one else but myself...
The steps that I take on the path I am on...
I am on it because I belong,
In the doing with a purpose.
And serving this purpose as it deserves.
And on a daily basis I will and can say,
I recognize my blessings.
And on a daily basis I will and can say,
I have recognized those foes...
Hoping to block my way,
From the crevices of shadows fading.
And...
On a daily basis I will and can say,
The Creator is responsible...
For removing opposition in my way that sit.
Trying to upset me with conflicts to afflict.
The Creator is responsible...
For not allowing this to persist.
And with a knowing of that,
It is with a kicking to the curb I do...
All that which attempts to delay my mission.
It is with a kicking to the curb I do...
To eliminate from me aches of all kinds,
From my mind to exist...
With an assistance only God can give.
It is with my Father's wishes,
The Creator of ALL there is 'that' is...
That has done this to mend AND fix!
And He, My Father...
Will not continue to permit,
The foolishness of nonsense...
To attack me with that kind of grip.
God has shown me I need not put up with it.
And...
With a clearing of the way for only HIS will to be done!
As it shall be...nonsense gets out of the mix.
Since The Creator alone,
Rules the Kingdom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Obviousness Of Delusion
Keeping up with appearances,
And striving to sustain a maintaining of an image...
Eventually becomes to be viewed as one's insanity.
Especially during these times,
When those who are clearly out of their minds...
Seem to be the ones more conscious of image.
And not able to embrace the reality of change.
With the obviousness of delusion,
Being stripped away on a daily basis.
To reveal truth and its existence everywhere.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many Are The People
I see a tree.
But knowing what it goes through,
On a daily basis to be a tree...
I can't say I know.
Therefore,
A knowing about it...
I can not prove or show.
I see squirrels, birds, cats and dogs,
On a daily basis...
To be what is perceived are animals.
Are they more or less intelligent than you,
Or me?
I can not claim to know this.
None have I met to chat with personally.
And that applies to people.
Many are the people with different ethnicities.
Many are their languages spoken,
And only fluent am I in one of these.
With a labelling by races and religious philosophies.
But can I claim to know them?
Not really. That would be too presumptuous of me.
But there are those who claim to know,
What is unseen.
They claim to know what others do,
Without having them on the scene.
Walk down any street anywhere and hear folks say,
Something about someone else to belittle and demean.
And not know one thing about them but they do it anyway.
Many are the people who would have others believe,
They know everything about someone else...
Including their history.
And these very same people are the reason why,
There is confusion and chaos in other people's lives...
From an ignorance known that shows.
And that fact should be prioritized as an agenda to realize.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Big Losers Alone
The feud we fueled has cooled.
And we chose to remove those stubborn moods.
But many like us have not!
They wish to keep a knocking rocking,
And it should stop before it starts.
Sitting stirring attitudes to prove,
What to do to who...
With issues brewed to renew.
Must be diluted!
They've got to refuse to pollute this blues.
Boot and not reuse them!
They've got to split up all this thickness in their cloudy minds.
Leave it behind.
And not refine them as reminders.
Get rid of all this wickedness that's easy to find.
With a heated need to feed these assinine times.
They've got to split up all this thickness in their cloudy minds.
Leave it behind.
And not refine them as reminders.
Get rid of all this wickedness that's easy to find.
With a heated need to feed these assinine times.
The feud we fueled has cooled.
And we chose to remove those stubborn moods.
But many like us have not!
They wish to keep a knocking rocking,
And it should stop before it starts.
Sitting stirring attitudes to prove,
What to do to who...
With issues brewed to renew.
Must be diluted!
They've got to refuse to pollute this blues.
Boot and not reuse them,
Or become big losers.
Boot and not reuse them,
Or become the big losers condoned.
Alone.
Condoned.
Boot and not reuse them,
Or become the big losers condoned.
Alone.
condoned.
Become those great big losers condoned,
Alone.
Condoned.
Unbecoming are those great big losers,
Boosting what they do...
And they are alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Since The Day That Love Came To Your Heart (Italian Sonnet) [2]
Since the day that love came to your heart
life feels as if it's played out on a stage
in times of true happiness and rage
where you do act and I play my part
and although joy is sometimes a art
that is not understood in the modern age
where people are content to earn their daily wage
there is something more to our feelings from the very start
and yet never will these true feelings fade,
never will our love be only temperate
as there is much more to it
or only be of happiness a kind of shade
or last to only a sell by date
as daily it grows bit by bit.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Since The Day That Love Came To Your Heart (Italian Sonnet)
Since the day that love came to your heart
life feels as if it's played out on a stage
in times of true happiness and rage
where you do act and I play my part
and although joy is sometimes a art
that is not understood in the modern age
where people are content to earn their daily wage
there is something more to our feelings from the very start
and yet never will these true feelings fade,
never will our love be only temperate
as there is much more to it
or only be of happiness a kind of shade
or last to only a sell by date
as daily it grows bit by bit.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Not too long ago (English sonnet)
Not too long ago we both knew a time of woe
but then into my life you came
and your smile on your face did glow
and never was a single day since then the same.
It feels that since ancient times
we have known each other from somewhere before
and these feelings are sublime
while daily we do love and adore each other even more.
There is something know and perfect to your face
something familiar, well loved in your speech
and I know how our feelings do daily linger as we embrace
as if forever we have know each to each
as if our feelings as a principle can never wear down
and I am glad, proud and honoured to call you my own.
poem by Gert Strydom
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