Listening Initiates Their Cold Shoulders
It makes little sense,
To keep a monitoring done...
Of their self destructiveness.
It is best for those to shut mouths close.
Since listening initiates...
Their cold shoulders they expose.
And a beginning that ignites...
A feeding of their self righteousness.
Kept unthawed as an aging isolation grows.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mawe Mawe
you have your reasons
for disappearing
what they do not want to see
you have covered them all
down to the last word of your mouth
you swallowed it
and keep your mouth
shut, shut, shut
i guess you are happy
on the land of the ice
cold maybe
but the silence inside you
keeps the warmth.
we miss you somehow
and your art of
concealment but where
ever you are now
we wish you the best
if you come back
we are always here to pretend
nothing happened
and nothing happens still
in the bleak future
we are always here to keep our
mouths shut too.
we will always love you somehow.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stop Trying to Find the Logic in Everything
The trouble with people feeding their greed,
And perceiving their feeding to hoard
To be an eternal process,
For themselves to be kept stored.
With no one else to profit from a process,
Not stopped.
Is...
Well,
One day to be revealed as preventable.
Even their selfish deeds must come to an end.
Whether or not...
They believe what has been available,
Has been diminished without the consciousness
Of their active input,
To keep what is missing their responsibilty
To nourish the flourishing that is obviously,
Absent from their purpose.
And those who live just to feed their greed,
Do not realize they place themselves in jeopardy.
Although they are not aware of this
Behind walls of a blocked isolation.
Perceived from a direction of its inception
To be an envied way a life.
Needing at their own expense to protect.
Even if that expense is aided by depending
On the discreet and secret borrowing from others.
'I thought you said 'they' were our enemies?
Them and they and those others? '
Who cares?
What is more important?
Impressing with our pretentions
Or being honest with ourselves?
'None of it makes any sense.'
When did the feeding of one's greed,
Ever made any sense?
Hmmm?
It is a standard that is valued.
We thrive on our pretentions!
Remember that.
Stop trying to find logic in everything.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs To Aging Children Come
Through the windless wells of wonder
By the throbbing light machine
In a tea leaf trance or under
Orders from the king and queen
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
People hurry by so quickly
Dont they hear the melodies
In the chiming and the clicking
And the laughing harmonies
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Some come dark and strange like dying
Crows and ravens whistling
Lines of weeping, strings of crying
So much said in listening
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Does the moon play only silver
When it strums the galaxy
Dying roses will they will their
Perfumed rhapsodies to me
Songs to aging children came
This is one
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Isolation
In fear every day, every evening,
He calls her aloud from above,
Carefully watched for a reason,
Painstaking devotion and love,
Surrendered to self preservation,
From others who care for themselves.
A blindness that touches perfection,
But hurts just like anything else.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
Mother I tried please believe me,
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through,
I'm ashamed of the person I am.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe,
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one lucky prize
Isolation, isolation, Isolation, isolation, isolation.
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A Guitar Solo Scream
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
'Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that...
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh! '
Oh some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
Some...
People,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
While others love to stir up stuff.
And then there's people...
Who love to fuss.
And then there's people...
Who love to anger.
And...
Love they do to fist-i-cuff.
And love they do to rush cuss.
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
Ohhhh...
Some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
While others love to stir up stuff.
But not you,
You want to be heard...
Like a soloist with nerve.
Wah-wah-wah.
You want to be heard...
Like a soloist with nerve.
Wah-wah-wah.
You want to be heard...
Like a soloist with nerve!
'Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that...
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh! '
Whining up like a guitar solo scream.
Wah-wah-wah.
Just whining up like a soloist on the scene.
Wah-wah-wah.
Whining up like a guitar solo scream.
Wah-wah-wah.
And doing it just to be heard and to be seen.
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh! '
Oh some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
But not you,
'You' just want to be heard.
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet Of Motherhood XXIX
How strangely lone unto myself I grow,
Listening and looking for I know not what;
Turning my head with terror cold and hot
At wandering whispers of a music low!
Familiar pieces of my being flow
Far, far away, to thymy hill and plot,
While chained to patience in this close-shut spot
I sit apart from everything I know.
O Love, I fear the loneness of my limbs
Leaning to nothing to their solitude.
Draw up the blinds and let the stars rush in,
The mournful moon and all the air she swims.
I would not languish in my mother-mood
While just without earth makes her old, mad din.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slaps On Aging Wrists
A society that initiates its own dilemmas,
And questions the mistakes it makes...
By seeking an escape from accountability.
Those they wish could be erased.
Has more than the ability to be self righteous,
On its side.
It also has a population unable to face,
The definition and meaning of maturity.
And the lack of it,
Has that society trapped in a childish mindset.
Hoping misdeeds will not receive,
No more than slaps on aging wrists!
'Your assessment is appalling! '
Tell me about it.
You have no idea how my observations,
Disgust me as well.
And...
We are all in the same boat.
Now isn't that a coincidence?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hurt
A new feeling grows inside me
Can't take away the black sky
I'm too afraid to use new colors
Wave the older man goobye
I was drowning in the ocean
I couldn't keep my head up
No one ever helped me fighting
No one ever seemed to mind
Close your eyes don't be shy
There's no need to shut the light
Just try to leave it all behind
If you're ok I'll be fine
You know there's something for me
It just needs to be found
It hurts to know I'm crawling
Why do I feel so betrayed
Tell me when the sky stops falling
Will there be another day
Close your eyes don't be shy
There's no need to shut the light
Just try to leave it all behind
If you're ok I'll be fine
You know there's something for me
It just needs to be found
Needs to be found
Needs to be found
Close your eyes don't be shy
There's no need to shut the light
Just try to leave it all behind
If you're ok I'll be fine
song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Effective Expected Results
The monitoring of everyone's criminal intent...
Is about as futile as observing how each leaf grows,
On every tree.
With just one supporting many branches.
Maybe from an imperfect 'rooting'...
Can a blame be placed as neglect!
'But nothing is impossible! '
Words spoken by those,
Who also say, 'It is never too late! '
As if time awaits for them to move forward.
If a nourishment given is not properly done,
From the very beginning...
The effective expected results,
Will not be achieved.
And those believing otherwise...
Do not have to accept this.
Since their beliefs are already evident.
With their excuses visibly manifested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby Blues
(bth australian version)
I wonder whats happening to me
Things are changing so dramatically
Ill search for you, youre not really there
Still I wonder knowing that you do care
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
He is the best thing to come my way
Perfect picture baby blues in my day
He is the best thing to come around
Sleeping in his cradle safe and sound
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
Baby blues, baby blues
Baby blues, baby blues
Baby baby, baby blues
Baby baby, baby blues
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
song performed by by Cranberries
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One Escape
Seven feet high.
Five feet across.
Infinite room to die.
The walls will keep you safe from the others
The almighty warden claims.
But am I afraid of the others?
Prisoners may be able to contort me, but
Prisoners can’t fill my soul with pains.
Prisoners can’t crush my heart with chains.
Why are prisoners so silent when the lights fade, you ask?
Isolation
Isolation that prickles your neck at night
Isolation that makes the darkness bite.
Screaming bounces off of the impenetrable walls of isolation,
And it hits you.
Echoes haunt your head
And the memories of not wanting to feel dead,
Disappear.
The bars
And the walls
And the dark
Erode your life.
How can you escape?
There is only
One
Way
Out
And it satisfies the walls
The grim reaper holds the ticket
His ticket leads out of the bars
And into the bright
Into the light
Pit of eternity.
The stone walls seem dreadfully close tonight
And this rope around my neck feels tight
This cold loneliness, my heart is full of it.
And I think I see the reaper with my ticket…
Whisperings
Come closer
and whisper to me
from deep within.
I listen because your soul
speaks to me in quiet
pillow breaths;
its soft tones
are decibels
to my open heart beating.
Come close as I anticipate
ecstasies quietly rendered;
Yours and Mine.
Soft tones meditate
and separate
True-ness from background noise.
Come close because
I am listening for soul stirrings
in the cross whisperings
sculpting our intimate
moments
where in whispered connections
our love grows;
our minds reel;
our mouths touch;
all this on that gentle breeze
whispers make
allowing
humans to grow
flowers on their souls.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Graded On A Curve
It's a waste of time
It's a race that can't be won
Call the whole thing off
Well that's easier said than done
And I try to shut it out
And I think I've figured out
That it makes no sense to compare what I've done
So what do I do now that I'm alone?
I've been building up and tearing down
and looking for what never can be found
So what do I do now that I'm alone?
God I tried so hard to get here
but still I'm averaged out
Graded on a curve
Put the blinders on and believe in someone else
You're not what they want that's exactly what they sell
And it's all been preordained but it's never quite the same
Once you've figured out that it makes no sense
And I don't care if I'm the one who makes mistakes
And I don't care how long this is going to take
Does it really matter how you played the game
when you were never really in it
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Foul Mouths Shouting
This magic we hold...
Comes from deep 'withinside' of us.
The moment our hearts began to beat...
That magic of life,
Began
To sweep us up in its wonder....to keep,
In wonder.
And so ungrateful we become,
Soon after that's done.
With a so too often shown...
Disrespect to be allowed.
And foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house.
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot!
Until there is conflict.
And it does come.
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
And we re-act the way we've been taught,
To defend ourselves.
From those 'bad guys'.
With their differences...
Few make attempts to hide.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house rise.
And we spy on 'them'...
To undercover their weak spots!
Making it easier to do them in.
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot.
Until there is conflict.
And it does start!
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot.
Until there is conflict.
And it comes to start again!
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
To cuss it!
For what it is.
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
For what it is.
To Cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
For what it is.
To Cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
For what it is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Us Begin (What Are We Making Weapons For?)
I am the son of a grassland farmer
Western Oklahoma nineteen forty three
I always felt grateful to live in the land of the free
I gave up my father to South Korea
The mind of my brother to Vietnam
Now theres a banker who says I must give up my land
There are four generations of blood in this topsoil
Four generations of love on this farm
Before I give up I would gladly give up my right arm
What are we making weapons for
Why keep on feeding the war machine
We take it right out of the mouths of our babies
Take it away from the hands of the poor
Tell me, what are we making weapons for
I had a son and my son was a soldier
He was so like my father, he was so much like me
To be a good comrade was the best that he dreamed he could be
He gave up his future to revolution
His life to a battle that just cant be won
For this is not living, to live at the point of a gun
I remember the nine hundred days of Leningrad
The sound of the dying, the cut of the cold
I remember the moments I prayed I would never grow old
What are we making weapons for
Why keep on feeding the war machine
We take it right out of the mouths of our babies
Take it away from the hands of the poor
Tell me, what are we making weapons for
For the first time in my life I feel like a prisoner
A slave to the ways of the powers that be
And I fear for my children, as I fear for the for the future I see
Tell me how can it be were still fighting each other
What does it take for a people to learn
If our song is not sung as a chorus, we surely will burn
What are we making weapons for
Why keep on feeding the war machine
We take it right out of the mouths of our babies
Take it away from the hands of the poor
Tell
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Time To Expose Old Wounds
Not impressed am I by those,
Who drag wherever they go...
Their exasperated aspirations.
As if an experience they have initiated,
Requires an announcement...
With attention meant to receive and get.
Where are those who chose their paths to take,
With the understanding this is the choice they make.
And who and what is being influenced,
By listening to every complaint and heartache.
Those moving forward have no time to expose old wounds.
Or express their agitations to create an atmosphere of gloom.
I use to believe those who succeeded were lucky in life.
But more and more I comprehend,
Anyone wishing to achieve...
Do it while sacrificing and with much discipline that ignites.
And doing it alone on their own as it is meant to be.
Away from those who gripe and whine in moans that drone,
Constantly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Childlike Clubhouse Mentality
Let me set the record straight,
Before some other novice initiates...
Another round of ignorance,
For immature fools to immulate.
There are those who enjoy what they do.
They are driven by an appetite,
To walk on a path and see their way through.
Few on a mission are not seeking competition.
There are those who recognize challenges.
Not challengers but challenges...
With the jumping over hurdles,
And unforeseen obstacles too!
Many have matured beyond,
That childlike clubhouse mentality.
Many have been healed and cured,
From comments dosed in created insensitivities.
And yet there are some who will never overcome,
Wanting to expose their youthful stupidities.
And seek they do...
To play the role of kids in school.
Let me set the record straight,
Before some other novice initiates...
Another round of ignorance,
For immature fools to immulate.
Grow up!
Or...
Get out of the way of those who are,
Adults who have had enough of your stuff!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For a short time—Only? !
For a short time—Only? !
Needing—without Hoping...
Wishing—without Wanting...
Gazing—without Looking...
Dreaming—without Searching...
Thinking—without Understanding...
Listening—without Hearing...
Touching—without Feeling...
Sensing—without Knowing...
Healing—without Bleeding...
Growing—without Aging...
Hurting—without Bruising...
Sleeping without—Mumbling...
Feeding without—Eating...
Breathing without—Inhaling...
For a short time—Only? !
Then was I—Truly,
Happy? !
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here Comes The Summer Sun Again
It is still a cold January,
but it won't be long
until summer comes along.
Feeding the Flowers
Feeding the Trees
Feeding all the creatures.
I am a little impatient
to get out on the golf course
and feel the warm energy of the sun,
the very thing that drives the planet,
the TV's, the radio's, the vegetation,
every watt of power comes straight from it's source.
Walking down the street or on the lush grass,
smelling the sweet heat.
Hearing the lawnmowers and music playing loud and live.
Tasting the ice lollies and strawberries.
seeing beautiful sunsets which make you
feel glad you're still alive.
Even now, though it's still winter,
the thought of summer makes me smile,
and imagine it's warmth for a while,
wishing it was here,
and i'm sitting in the garden
nursing a cold beer.
poem by Andrew Matthews
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Memory Loss
There are those who eventually...
Come to despise and hate,
That which initiates and creates...
A feeding enjoyed.
With a memory loss...selectively.
To leave minds detached,
And convinced...
They would have found their own way,
Independently.
Without a guide to lead them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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