Natural Light
There is nothing wrong in seeing life,
From your perspective and point of view.
That has never been a question I presented to you.
I just have questions why you should have a need,
To constantly borrow my flashlight.
By now your decision to live in darkness,
Seems to be something you are not familiar with.
Or one you are trying to pretend,
Makes more sense than the one I have chosen.
The one I am comfortable in.
And I am to be convinced...
Your way of life is right and envied?
And for you makes tremendous sense?
And you tell me I'm the one in need of therapy?
If I am going to have shadows around me...
The sun is going to be above.
Natural light.
Nothing I need to borrow.
Or discuss its value...
As I stumble around to find my way.
I've done that.
Charading then in masquerade.
No one could tell me I was not fabulous.
A breath of fresh air.
But the staleness of my routine helped me to awaken.
You still have not arrived.
And that's okay.
Either you will...
Or you will kill yourself!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Blessed With This Gift
If one makes a decision,
To awaken seeking ways to appreciate life.
With a feeling that expresses a gratefulness,
To experience this gift.
They will see opportunity.
And know to them it has already been given.
If one makes a decision,
Life is to be lived and not taken for granted...
Blessings given will be shared,
If they awaken with thoughts...
To be to others more caring!
If...
And that's not a big 'if' to ponder.
Not to awaken thinking of possibilities!
Or what this day given brings.
If...
One makes a decision,
To awaken seeking ways to appreciate life.
One just has to start,
Realizing each day when they awaken...
They have already been blessed with a gift!
If...
For them that is a decision made,
To see a life that has been given that way...
Fortunes are at their fingertips.
With a pricelessness that enriches.
If one makes a decision,
To awaken seeking ways to appreciate life.
And feeling blessed with this gift.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hug a Tree
When a thrill has lost its excitement...
And others are convinced,
A routine visited makes to them a lot of sense...
Hug a tree!
At least that activity,
Is on no one's agenda.
Approaching life differently,
Reveals new discoveries...
Never to bore one seeking variety.
And the appreciation may return,
A fresh outlook on life.
Hug a tree.
One never knows,
Just how rooted this cuddle goes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life Makes No Sense
life makes no sense,
some days i wished it did,
so i wouldn't have to say,
'life sucks'
time to time,
i try and see the good,
it just how?
i mean why?
life is unfair,
i'm waiting for it,
just to get better,
but, it start to seem impossible,
life never what it seems,
people not what they seem,
life makes no sense,
it filled with ups and downs,
are we suppose to learn?
what is the message from god?
to be everything you can?
no matter how unfair he makes it?
we just have to fight to get through?
our life we suppose to live,
day after day?
because life to me,
just don't make no sense.
4-9-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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You've Blinded Yourself
Ironic isn't it? We die with no breath, yet with every breath taken,
death creeps ever so slowly upon us, clandestinely killing us, unbeknownst to us.
Ironic isn't it? We would die for what is right, yet we die when we do what is wrong. We live in a world that abhors the right, yet with what is wrong, the Son of Sin is born.
Funny isn't it? They say Light and Darkness cannot exist without the other, but Darkness dies with Light. Light needs not Darkness to live.
Funny isn't it? You try to to kill me now, and laugh when I stumble.
I wonder if you'll be laughing when your swimming in the Lake of Fire and Sulphur. In fact, look into my eyes, if you dare, and see ME laugh as I watch you die.
Such irony in this life you've created, killing us off one by one. In reality it is Death wearing Life's cloak. 'Tis amusing too, you still think your going to win. Pathetic actually. Oh well, too bad.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Yet, Undefined But Welcoming
Almost but not quite,
Prepared to leave behind...
All remnants of doubt,
Completely with a clean slate...
For a broadened point of view,
From the hold of familiar darkness.
As shadows one questions but hides behind,
No longer offers an escape.
A developing need seeks to reach,
And stretch with more of life to find.
Almost but not quite,
Convinced that the embrace of light...
Can and will replace those common fears,
One had grown accustomed to taste...
As if craved so available and near.
To examine with a mind beginning to bloom,
To open.
With a wanting of more,
That appears to be free of limitations etched.
Yet, undefined but...welcoming to accept.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Makes More Sense
It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
It makes more sense,
To leave a fight and not to start it.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'I'm wrong'. And then depart.
What is there to gain to carry hatred in your heart.
It makes more sense,
To leave a fight and not to start it.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'I'm wrong'. And then depart.
What is there to gain to carry hatred in your heart?
It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
Yes it makes more sense.
There should be no doubt about it.
Yes it makes more sense.
There should be no doubt about it.
Yes this makes more sense.
There should be no doubt about it,
That it makes more sense!
Without being convinced,
To leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Feelings Of Guilt
Gee!
Please tell me this...
Am I the only one to awaken,
From a peaceful undisturbed sleep...
To feel immediately the presence of guilt?
I do.
Sometimes I do.
I awaken each day...
To first exercise and meditate.
I do my yoga routine.
And then with a gratefulness I pray.
To affirm my blessings.
And then a total and complete happiness,
Comes over me.
I want to scream with joy.
So loud it makes me feel gulty.
For years I've expressed,
My happiness with my neighbors.
A few, I know, are convinced...
I smoke crack.
Because I enjoy burning incense.
And most of my neighbors know that.
Sometimes I don't have a dime in my pocket.
And those close to me know this.
I can walk for miles...
With nothing but a smile on my face.
And I just might approach a stranger...
To ask why a frown that makes them look down,
To 'me' appears out of place.
I wont repeat some things they say.
'Uh...
No thanks!
I couldn't do that to myself,
If I wanted.
But...
You have a good day.'
Gee!
Please tell me this...
Am I the only one to awaken,
From a peaceful undisturbed sleep...
To feel immediately the presence of guilt?
I do.
Sometimes I do.
However...
I keep my routine the way it is.
I am the product of my experiences.
And naïve I am not.
Nor thoroughly innocent.
But feelings of GUILT?
Because I am happy?
Absolutely makes no sense!
Does it?
Does it to you?
What's the matter?
Why are you looking at me like that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It makes sense
When controversy surrounds
and things blow out of proportion
remember,
that tranquility still makes sense
When tension surrounds
and mind gets exhausted
remember,
that patience still makes sense
When mystery surrounds
and logic takes a backseat
remember,
that reality still makes sense
When laughter surrounds
and the vox gets too loud
remember,
that silence still makes sense
When darkness surrounds
and the heart gets out of rhythm
remember,
that hope still makes sense
poem by Deependra Kumar Jha
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The Voices
Voice speaks every words.
Voice is within.
Give me voice.
I will give you words.
Voices of sorrows.
Makes me something to borrow.
Don't know what to borrow.
Voice has incredible powers.
The power to change.
Which will make common sense.
poem by Yash Pradhan
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When I Borrow
I borrow some blue from the sky,
Pour them on my sadness
And living becomes joy!
I borrow some laughter from the spring,
Rub them over my face
And returns my happiness!
I borrow a little of the tree's selflessness
Plant them in my heart
And living becomes caring for others!
I borrow some radiance of the sun,
Store them in my eyes
And all darkness is illumined!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Holding The Lamp
anxious face
the lines are bold
like some veins
about to burst
like a bomb timed
at ten tonight
the flash light
roams around the
darkness
a roomful of darkness
wanting to point
out the truth
the truth is in my heart
in the darkness of
my heart
your flashlight gets
nothing
the view is holographic
mirages and shadows
ghosts and
souls
you are a failure again
i turn off the light
now see me again
in this darkness
this is my truth
this is my life
this is the only light i have
the dark room
a roomful of blackness
inside my heart
inside my soul.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Choosing To Finesse With The Best Of Etiquette
From my perspective,
That is all this is.
An authority of life?
No.
Like many, I too
Found adventure and discovery in my youth.
I was quite inquisitive.
Whether wrong or right
My activities did not cease my appetite.
My insights are based upon,
My own experiences.
And I do believe as a writer,
My opinion qualifies.
Just as someone else's 'is'.
Those who get 'uptight'
Because my point of view,
For them does not delight.
Well...
I confess what others may think,
Does not keep me up at nights.
Should it?
And when someone express to me,
That my point of view they disagree.
What can I say?
Knowing that the life I live is mine.
What can I say?
When I know they too...
Wear different shoes,
Than the ones I choose.
And sometimes they do not shine.
From my perspective,
That is all this is.
An authority of life?
No.
Like many, I too...
Found adventure and discovery in my youth.
I was quite inquisitive.
And inquisitive about life...
I still 'IS' with a quest to be me.
Determined to question.
And choosing to finesse with the best of etiquette?
Depends on the atmosphere and mood of the occasion.
I do not make attempts to impress.
Although I will admit,
Being expressive I do with the best of effort.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There's Glory In Your Story
I felt alone
I put on my new shoes and hit the town
I still felt alone
I'm convinced everyone's built to be put down
I had to say (I had to say)
What I wanted to say (what I wanted to say)
I had to say (what I wanted to say)
Where are you going to stay?
I felt alone
Independence Day comes when you're down
Still felt alone
Ten times I thought I almost found you
Sometimes simple chords are the best
The simple approach is the best if
It makes more sense than any other
It makes more sense than any other
I felt alone
I felt bleak - knocked me to the ground
I still felt alone
My attempts at chivalry fell without a sound
I felt alone
So put on your new shoes and leave this town
Still felt alone
I'm convinced, everyone's built to be put down
The simple chords are the best
Sometimes the simple approach is the best if
It makes more sense than any other
It makes more sense than any other
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dependence On Negativity
Your demons have you convinced,
The life you live without me...
Would be better spent,
Not listening!
And the benefit from this,
Affords you to live...
A life lived without comprehension.
One acheived without common sense!
Follow I do your movements from the sidelines.
Hoping one day you will awaken to find...
Wasting time trying to redefine,
How to accept me in your mind...
Has limited you to doubt and misunderstanding.
Deception based upon your perception,
I have plans to manipulate your independence...
Is that continuous inner dialogue you keep,
With your belief a dependency on negativity relieves!
It is you not me living day to day in desperation.
However...
It is your happiness that has been blocked,
And confined.
Not mine!
That is the only freedom I know...
I have here to share with fresh air to breathe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Coctail Hour
I am floating in a world
that makes no sense to me
as pickled as the olive in your glass
It doesn't buy me any class
and I can't purchase reason
when the fog is too thick to borrow from
poem by Sara Fielder
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Mind Fed Rituals
When determined people,
Pray to God to have their way...
And God sends to them messengers,
To scream from bullhorns...
This is not going to happen.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
People like this will make their mission,
To enlist others to value their point of view.
Even to select and depict those unknowing,
They have been chosen as culprits...
By someone who did not like,
How they were told...
To remove their rose colored glasses!
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
And the 'spiritual' side of it...
Is a routine of mind fed rituals,
Outdated by a lack indepth perception.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
A common sense for many,
That has been diluted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Makes No Sense
If there are those,
Who have walked on paths alone...
And they have known the ones,
To have stabbed them in the back...
With false accusations.
Why would they then volunteer,
To pay someone else's dues?
Or let anyone borrow from them,
Their sharpest knives?
With a wishing,
To them...
To keep trying to do their very best?
This makes no sense!
Or does it?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Making sense
No sense in it if you act non-sense
People may push you away with sense
You may think why people are utterly non-sense?
When you are perfectly ok and act wit sense
You may fail in your love attempts
Some thing may force you or to act prompt
Still you act with sense and avoid
You may face difficulties which are self maid
You may act wise with change of scene
Gentleman like approach when publicly seen
Is it not the humanly act minus sin?
When one tries to project what he has been?
What comes to your help or rescue?
You may be wondering without any clue
You may blink and face may turn blue
When projection makes no sense for you
Sense is third eye for human being
Timely act may make him king
Opponent may face defeat in the ring
You may survive……………..
What, if nothing suggests or paves the way?
Your voice may not be heard or have the say
You may stick to position and bat for long
Still it makes sense that you are not always wrong
You will know what lies ahead?
Common sense may stop you to be mislead
So even if you are worried or so tense
You may act wise and come out with sense
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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To Mr. Henry Lawes, Who Had Then Newly Set a Song of Mine
Verse makes heroic virtue live;
But you can life to verses give.
As, when in open air we blow,
The breath, though strained, sounds flat and low;
But if a trumpet take the blast,
It lifts it high, and makes it last:
So in your airs and our numbers dressed,
Make a shrill sally from the breast
Of nymphs, who, singing what we penned,
Our passions to themselves commend;
While love, victorious with thy art,
Governs at once their voice and heart.
You, by the help of tune and time,
Can make that song which was but rhyme.
Noy pleading, no man doubts the cause;
Or questions verses set by Lawes.
As a Church window, thick with paint,
Lets in a light but dim and faint,
So others, with division, hide
The light of sense, the poet's pride;
But you alone may truly boast
That not a syllable is lost:
The writer's and the setter's skill
At once the ravished ears do fill.
Let those which only warble long,
And gargle in their throats a song,
Content themselves with
ut, re, mi
:
Let words, and sense, be set by thee.
poem by Edmund Waller
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Dieing Is Not An Option
Dieing is not an option,
When one is upset with life.
I like to think of it as a request,
One makes...
When a darkness begins,
To shield one from the light!
We all are born receiving gifts,
To experience our lives as we choose...
And like.
Some refuse to believe they have chosen,
To follow another on a path.
Instead of selecting,
A happiness grabbed for them that will last.
And that is not easy when variety,
Appears to confuse the mind of some.
Especially when discipline and devotion,
Seem to compete with those who have more fun.
But...
Dieing is not an option,
When one is upset with life.
I like to think of it as a request,
One makes...
When a darkness begins,
To shield one from the light!
Desiring with wishes!
Assisted by dreams one wants fulfilled,
Keeps one motivated to achieve and accomplish.
Experiencing the adventure...
Of acquiring skills.
And doing what one likes...
Is a thrill no one consciously,
Wants to see end or kill!
Dieing is not an option,
When one is upset with life.
I like to think of it as a request,
One makes...
When a darkness begins,
To shield one from the light!
'Excuse me,
I know you have decided...
To take your own life.
However...
Do you mind,
Taking it eleswhere?
And away from my sight?
Over there feel free to complain.
And do as much of it as you like!
But doing it around me,
You see...
For that I have no appetite.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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