Is It Just As Valid
Is the pain one feels,
Only real...
When it is complained about?
Or is it just as valid...
If one chooses to endure it,
Without an audience to reveal...
How and when it was inflicted.
For the purpose,
To recall when given the opportunity!
And reliving its affect...
For the attention the mentioning of it gets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Something Good To Do And Say
Where is the opportunity
To let what 'was' go?
To know that today...
Has more purpose than yesterday.
Right now,
In this moment.
Let us be in 'it' without delay!
Where is the opportunity
To say what was 'is' done?
Nothing gained is more rewarding...
Than to know something fresh has begun!
Beating dead horses and riding slow turtles,
To make a point that will never be won!
Doesn't do a thing when slinging aged mud...
To accomplish an understanding,
Misunderstood.
Let us leave it alone...
Like we should!
Where is the opportunity
To let what 'was' go?
To know that today...
Has more purpose than yesterday.
Right now,
In this moment.
Let us be in 'it' without delay!
Right now,
In this moment...
Help me help us,
Find something good to do and say!
You must be tired,
Like I know I am...
To discover in review,
Nothing 'fresh' or new to be pursued!
And reliving past emotions feed,
A time that is not returning...
We should leave as is and let it be!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rumi was here
It's his light touch.
He's not trying to tell you anything,
convince you of anything,
he's not watching your face
to see if you agree.
He's just mentioning something
as if you were walking together
someplace real nice.
Already, his light mind
is somewhere far elsewhere
in this world of wonder,
just mentioning it
because there seems a connection.
You too?
Rumi was here.
The air is singing.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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What a Remarkable Achievement
What has been done,
Has been done.
What has been said,
Has been said.
But the affect of those fresh platitudes,
Seem to be capturing the attention.
And turning everyone's head.
Not only are they original...
They also provide,
An escape route for those misdemeanors.
And an opportunity for the culprits,
To proclaim an innocence instead.
What a remarkable achievement.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wear my Skin
You want to know how it feels
Being hollowed out
Apple cored, centre lost?
You want to know how it feels
Leaking salt water
Filling oceans with tears?
You want to know how it feels
To hear your heart break
And catch the pieces in your hand?
You want to know how it feels
To have your soul rent;
Half in a grave, half out?
You want to know how it feels
To lose your gentle lover;
Your own sweet man?
You want to know how it feels
When your grief is not valid
In the eyes of the world?
You want to know how it feels?
You have to wear my skin;
But I doubt it would fit.
P H Brookes © 1997
poem by Paul Brookes
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The Society Knows It
Affluence is the audience
For art and music.
Perversion is the audience
For dance and romance.
Monogamy is the audience
For porn and blue films.
The society is aware of it
And condone it for a purpose.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Scars That U Leave
I don’t know how much more
How much more I can take
Of this crap you keep doing
Every night I go to bed
With the scars of the day
Scars that you inflicted
And the pain searing through my body
A pain that was caused by your hands
Inflicted by your hatred
A pain remembered the next morning
Only to be added to that night
A never ending pain
As the wounds are never left to heal
But are added to
Over and over again
Know I add a new pain
A pain I inflict on myself
A cut that you didn’t make
But was caused by you all the same
poem by Layla Joseph
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Prison Song
(Your attention please. As warden Abbiss announced ealier this week, Ionia state penitentiary
Is now number one in the country among inmate education. Thirty-one percent of you have earned
Your GED and or diplomas this year alone. As promised we now present to you in concert, your
Own fellow inmate Syn. Let's keep it cool and conduct ourselves properly boys. Let's show the
Warden we can do this again sometime. Here is Syn.)
I can remember, all that she gave to me
I can remember, how much she hated me
I can remember, just what she kept from me (Bitch!)
And I remember, all that she left to me
I can recall it, when the love was gone
I can recall it, when the pain was strong
I can recall it, when her palm would flash for what seemed like all night the terror would
Last
I can remember, the look in my brother's eyes
I can remember, whats left but another try?
I can remember, the heat in the summer time
And I remember, all that was never mine
I can recall it, when the love was gone
I can recall it, when the pain was strong
I can recall it, when her palm would flash for what seemed like all night the terror would
Last
I'm not here tryin to make amends
Turn back time and I'd kill her again
It's what I call justifiable sin
Cock the hammer back!
And I put two in
I can remember, half her head was gone
And I remember, it was all over the lawn
Also remember, the cops were everywhere
I can remember, I didn't even care
I can recall it, when the love was gone
I can recall it, when the pain was strong
I can recall it, when her palm would flash for what seemed like all night the terror would
Last
I'm not here tryin to make amends
Turn back time an
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Were Not Wanted
WE WERE NOT WANTED
We were not wanted
All our work
All those years.
You complained endlessly out loud
And I in silence to the page
But no one wanted us.
And we like most
Who strive to ‘create’ or ‘to give’ or ‘to contribute’
Had to eat our hearts out
Each other’s hearts out
In Loneliness, Frustration, and Failure.
We were not wanted-
We are not wanted-
We most likely
Never will be wanted.
We have done what we have done
We do what we can do
We are what we are.
God chooses.
And if we are the Many never called
Silence will roll over our pain forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Without Questioning The Appeal Of Ideals
'Offer to throw to them money!
It heals all wounds inflicted.
And will erase all agony,
From their memories claimed...
To be tied to their histories.'
There are certain aspects of life,
That are inevitable.
Without questioning the appeal of ideals.
Or the truth as it exists.
Pain and pleasure are feelings felt.
It is true we all are dealt cards from a deck,
Whether or not the hand we get is accepted.
And...
Without questioning the appeal of ideals.
Although intuitively pain is rejected.
For most of us it is pleasure that is the objective.
Yet there are those who believe,
They have been chosen to receive most of it...
While denying others to get a taste,
The freedom of opportunity makes.
'Let them eat cake.
IF they can locate the baker.
Or...
Better yet.
Offer to throw to thwem money!
It heals all wounds inflicted.
That promises to quiet their wishes.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ode to equality
Although the ecstasies we feel
consist of simple things combined
into a mixture which may reveal.
Defences can be undermined
without our knowledge and consent.
By chance met opportunity
which we conveniently forget.
When faced with this predicament
we proceed with impunity
and give as much as what we get
The guilty feelings we conceal.
We try our best to reassign
but don’t succeed they are too real
and force our minds to redefine.
What was our purpose and intent?
Did we just act instinctively
and spring the trap already set.
Because we were too confident
we acted irresponsibly
which leaves worried and upset.
Can it be true? Can it be real?
that what we shared though by consent.
The pleasures which we chose to steal
are something which we should regret
We both bear guilt to some extent
surrendering too easily
to lusts we would we could forget.
It seems to be quite evident
agreement was reached mutually.
All obligations have been met.
17-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Footsteps Like Pain
Over one hundred footsteps,
Taking over like pain
when they leave many footsteps,
Behind you they'll fade,
ever so gently
so, so, slowly
Kind of like how, when somebodys in pain,
The approach,
feels overwelming
So overwelming that,
you take so much
pride in hurt,
that you dont even realize
To give a care,
about anybody but yourself
Just like the footprints
It slowly fades
while its passing by,
you die inside
Feels like a long time when you discover
it's only been a few hours
you start to surmise
this thinking inside,
causes emotional pain
When you look back
where your footprints,
It will seem like,
it just happened
yesterday
Pain disintegrates quickly
but,
that's the point of Fading!
Footsteps
leave all kinds of imprints
some are unaltered
most effect in such,
a peculiar way
When you feel pain,
others may see it
and affect them,
badly
Or if you feel pain,
nobody may notice it,
but that pain,
is the kind that creates
slow fades
you may feel it at it's worst peak
Footprints and Pain!
poem by Nicole Hanes
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Nothing Owed To Anyone
The only thing one may be observed doing,
May not be the only thing one can do.
That which is seen to prejudge,
May be thought to be one's only choice,
Because of an appearance of ease.
Few consider that what one chooses,
May satisfy that taster.
There may have been other things,
One has chosen to choose as well.
With other abilities accomplished and achieved.
Knowing there is nothing owed to anyone else,
To prove with a solicitation of attention sought.
The greater good is delivered to the one focused,
On a path one travels with purpose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pain
'Ouch.'
Once again,
Do you mind describing it?
For some reason,
I can feel my own when done.
But...
Your pain I am just not feeling.
'Maybe I should do,
What you've been doing to me?
To exchange the sensation.'
Comeon.
Let's be real about this.
What makes you think I want to feel 'your' pain?
Or my own self inflicted to prove what?
This is your experiment.
Not mine.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gone Is Another Chance
Stuck in a backed up duct...
A flow has start to slow.
And there one sits until a busted luck,
Erupts!
In a panic that one shows.
And gone,
Is another chance to do...
What one chooses.
Or sip on booze to fuel.
Gone...
Is another chance to do,
What one chooses.
Plucked like a duck that will get stuffed.
To cook until one's done.
One like this is too corrupt.
With winning thoughts to come.
But gone,
Is another chance to do...
What one chooses.
Or sip on booze to fuel.
Gone...
Is another chance to do,
What one chooses.
Or pick a fight to feud.
Gone...
Is another chance to do,
What one chooses.
Stuck in a backed up duct!
And gone,
Is another chance to do...
What one chooses.
Stuck in a backed up duct!
And gone,
Is another chance to do...
What one chooses.
Stuck in a backed up duct!
Stuck in a backed up duct!
And gone,
Is another chance to do...
What one chooses.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Depends On the Enlightenment of Your Consciousness
How much more pain can you endure?
That's a good question!
How much more would you like?
Would you like that with or without an appetitizer?
You seem to prefer your suffering done,
With a full voicing of complaint.
You seem to have awaited,
The moment of its infliction.
Then you began...
A whining without constraint!
How much more pain can you endure?
How much more would you like?
When did you decide,
That an enduring of it...
Brought to you more dignity?
And enhanced your pride in others' eyes?
How much more pain can you endure?
You seem to enjoy it with cocktails.
Or at least with others,
Who feel their afflictions...
Increases a degree of a perceived patriotism!
And of course...
No end appears in sight for your noble sacrifice.
How much more pain can you endure?
That's a good question!
But I am sure,
When you begin to hold yourself accountable for it...
You will awaken to discover,
The foolishness of your decision.
And those you believed had your best interests...
Kept you in pain to obtain their own gains!
And how much of their gain,
Can you endure at your expense?
That depends on the enlightenment of your consciousness.
And your willingness to seek some answers,
When you have been detoxed from your addiction!
Without the need to martyr or bleed away,
Your right to a peace of mind...
That has obviously become no one's concern!
And this is a lesson,
You aren't the only one...
That has to learn!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When A Person Does Not Know What
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
WHAT DO I KNOW? \AND WHO AM I?
What do I know?
And who am I?
The real questions
I cannot answer
They are beyond me.
And I don't think
I have anything to give
Even in beginning to answer them.
Just another human being
Who has come this way
And soon will be gone
Without ever having answered
The real questions.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Intentional
No matter what may be done or said,
When that action in time takes place...
Someone will feel left out instead.
Not because of the action,
Done or said.
But how it was related when instigated.
Whoever made it fun for one,
To berate another with a blurting tongue...
The day will come,
When a similar deed is repeated.
With a singing of a song sung,
Or a tune heard hummed.
With no exit to ignore it to escape or leave,
The perpetrator remembered...
Will then be seeking empathy.
That no one with heart and soul intact,
Will care to release to relieve.
To set one free from memories.
This Earth is not flat,
It looks as if round.
And rotates on an axis,
To return to a place of origin always found.
And that is a fact when one sits to think,
Of those thoughts trapped to sit cemented...
In intentional inequities inflicted to sting and meant!
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
It is all quite intentional.
'Never accuse me again,
Of not having substance! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
'Never...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Accuse...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Me...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Again! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Well, now, and there's - for every dollar the federal government spends, there's real people on the other side, and so when we talk about reductions that are going to affect providers, that's going to affect hospitals and doctors and others.
quote by Franklin Raines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pain Is Just To Real
The pain is just to real.
There’s a tear somewhere deep within me.
Pulling at me, reaching up, seizing me.
The pain is just to real.
It bursts white hot scorching my insides.
Prying me open, ripping inside me.
The pain is just to real.
Needles hitting over and over again.
A cry of fear burst through my mouth.
The pain is just to real.
I hear the thud each time the pain comes.
It’s excruciating, I can’t take this much longer.
The pain is just to real.
I clutch my chest I can’t seem to breathe.
It’s killing me.
The pain is just to real.
Something’s shattering inside me.
It’s hitting every piece of flesh within me.
The pain is just to real.
White hot pain explodes in my chest.
Thud, Thud, pain pulses through my veins.
The pain is just to real.
My muscles begin to twitch.
Clutching my chest I think I see lights.
The pain is just to real.
My vision goes blurry.
I’m coming short of breath.
The pain is just to real.
With one gasping breathe I realize what’s happening.
My heart is shattering..
poem by Krystal Allison
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Something That You Said
Everything in a moment starting where
Something you said is hanging in the air
Now I know my life is sweetening
Changing everything
Something that you said
Turned me from the inside out
Running through my head
Something I have dreamed about
And I feel so real
And it feels so right...
Showing you every weakness
And feeling strong for it
I used to run from real love
Now I long for it
Now I know what Ive been missing
Since Ive been listening
Something that you said
Turned me from the inside out
Lying in my bed
Whispering your name out loud
And I feel so real
And it feels so right
Something that you said
Got through to me tonight
Never so far you cant call me back
Im never more than a single kiss away
And I feel so real
And it feels so right
Something that you said
Turned me from the inside out
Running through my head
Something I had dreamed about
And I feel so real
And it feels so right
Something that you said
Turned me from the inside out
Lying in my bed
Whispering your name out loud
And I feel so real
And it feels so right
Something that you said
Turned me from the inside out
Running through my head
Something I had dreamed about
And it feels so real
And it feels so right
Something that you said
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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