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No Secret Whispers or Gossip Needed

There had been a significance in it for some,
To have others believe...
Those that have been selected and hand picked,
To be depicted as having mental issues...
Are themselves deprived of fresh air flowing,
To allow their brains to freely breathe.
And their long running campaigns,
Seem to be finally coming to an end.
Since today it is clearly obvious,
Who is lacking in that capacity.
And there are no secret whispers or gossip needed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Proclaiming Preferences

Feeling a bit threatened,
By those proclaiming preferences?
Only to then become offended,
When you have been omitted...
From being a preference one admits.
How traumatic?
And why is this?

One at first feeling threatened,
Should now feel relieved.
But noooo!

They decide they would like,
To taunt those proclaiming them.
Especially if those preferences,
Has anything to do with sex.
And those choices that have been expressed...
Does not include them as addressed.

It was only when those preferences were announced,
Did those previously minding their own business...
Went about doing what they normally would do.
Snooping between gossip hops.
With an attempt to acquire details...
About who does what with what they've got.

Then one day those with preferences,
Unlocked their doors and came out of closets.
And caring less who passed judgement on them.
They sought a happiness.
From lifestyles that had one time or another,
Had them feel both closed and trapped in.

Now today...
Those with old gossip,
Have nothing to say.
If fact they seem embittered...
To stay in relationships,
Daring to admit...
Their own activities,
Have long skipped over...
And beyond a 'curiousness'.

'What's the matter?
You look upset.'

~That 'misfit' told me,
I was not desirable...
On a kept preference list.
Can you believe this?
And I 'know' I am desirable...
IF I decided to choose to be!
And IF I wanted to be selected and picked.~

'Selected and picked?
For what? '

~You know.
For 'whatever' it is...
Those two over there are doing.~

'What are they doing? '

~You can not see what they are doing?
Look at them...
Closely.
And how they are looking at each other,
With 'those'...eyes.
And...
Out in public.
I am highly offended AND appalled.~

'What are you talking about? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blissful Queen

Blissful queen
Magazine
Making art
Stuck between
Limosines
Break my heart
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
Blissful queen
Sweet sixteen
Brand new car
Hit machine
Keep her clean
Razor sharp
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
Blissful queen
Velveteen
Shining star
Glistening
Wedding ring
Gone too far
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming baby
You've got me running but I cant see you coming
Can't see you coming
Can't see you coming...

song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breath Of Fresh Air

I’m on a highway going nowhere
feeling the wind in my hair,
if I was running away
I’d be a long way from here,
but I’m just driving to see where nowhere goes,
getting that much needed
a breath of fresh air.

Sometimes the world gets too heavy
and you find it hard to breathe.
You need to escape the rat race
and get the hell out of here,
feel a sense of freedom,
smell the earth at your feet
and get a breath of fresh air.

We all get stifled at times,
feel the walls are closing in,
we jump at the chance
to become unchained
and throw caution to the wind,
getting that much needed
a breath of fresh air.

22-23 February 2011

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sick Places

Affixed to plantation mindsets,
Obvious dysfunctions...
Are not that obvious to them.
And they battle one another,
To gain the master's trust.

Still depicted by stereotypes,
This life kept in mental bondage...
Feeds appetites of despair,
The suppressors like to enforce upon them.
And everyone seems to enjoy their sick places.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trains, Brains, & Rain

This is the last song ever written
About trains and brains and rain.
Aint it a sin?
For these good lyrics,
I have no fears.
Theyve all got roles and plots and gears,
They have for years.
Train is running around in my brains.
Rain is flowing around in my veins.
Tears are running down my face,
For the last stupid song.
Lets get on board
This scattered brain.
Folks drunk as poets all sound the same,
But dont be afraid.
For this surprise,
If he was with us,
Is that we played this track for you,
And please some tears.
Train is running around in my brains.
Rain iss flowing around in my veins.
Tears are running down my face,
For the last stupid song.

song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amazing Those Possibilities Uncovered

How do I deal with my issues?
Head on.
That's easy for me.
And cost effective.
Than to pretend my life is free...
Of obstacles.
In some sort of protective net.
Hidden as if I can be selective.
As if my life is free of taking risks.

Only to expose those 'risks' taken,
As if they are preferred friends.
Later to discover I had been dismissed.
To start a long journey all over again.
And I've never been close to deception.
I've learned to inspect every step I take.
To reveal to myself what is real and what is fake.

Nor do I live with delusions.
I use to welcome them with a wish to want more.
But I've found that too high of a price to pay.
And today...
Seeing things as they are,
Has shorten my need...
To make long acceptance speeches.
With impressions of my abilities.
Eyes would widen in disbelief.

And,
Since I do not receive those invitations anymore...
No one has a clue or an idea,
How much that has been a relief.
And none of that did I had to beg or borrow.
Or seek approval from anyone,
To choose my own atmosphere...
With fresh air to deeply breathe.
Acknowledging the significance of the Sun.

It is amazing what dealing with one's own issues,
Can bring.
It is amazing those possibilities uncovered one sees,
In the welcoming that restores a mind set free.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing To Them Dawns

It is getting increasingly obvious,
Who the foolish people are.
And the support they are receiving,
By those who follow blindly behind...
With an absence of their own thought process.

It is getting increasingly obvious,
Who has been depicted as nonconformists.
With a choosing to witness those sitting on a fence.
Debating between themselves to convince,
Which one is more logical and who makes sense.
As they try to impress who has the greater intelligence.

And the ones long depicted as nonconformists,
Now too impatient to listen to foolish arguments...
Find what others do no longer to their amusement.
With decisions they have made in times faded and gone,
To leave alone whether right or wrong...
Those remaining to debate over the obvious,
From Sunrise to Sunset and yet nothing to them dawns.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Them That Right To Stand Out And Shine

When one begins a life,
Of obvious habitual lieing...
They should be encouraged to continue.
Nothing of merit to be labelled credible,
Will be coming from them anyway.

So why should anyone assume,
These people do not have mental issues?
And can be rehabilitated,
To fit in a dysfunctional society like the rest of us!
Give them that right to stand out and shine!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Pay Particular Attention

A spoiled mixed up brew.
Left to sit to boil hot!
That's what I thought,
Of myself...
A lot!

A life I randomly got.
And not selected.
Not one that was picked,
To witness experiences...
In time I would digest.

And as I grow older,
I am coming to grips with this...
On being 'picked' and 'selected' business.
Realizing a 'randomness' is not the lives we live.

And I am not going to lie...
I do often wonder 'why'?
Since I will admit,
I do test and try my Creator's patience.

In the hopes to be punished...
To pay particular attention,
As to how the Creator goes about...
Inflicting this,
Upon my more aware consciousness!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No One Benefits Or Receives

Why is it that a certain class of people,
Feel they can free themselves...
From committing the most horrendous deeds,
To excuse what is done...
At the taxpayers expense,
To get them much needed mental therapy?

And for a dime bag of nature grown weed,
Others not in this class...
Picked as felons,
And depicted to be on the wrong paths...
Are given sentences with time to sit in prisons,
To be rehabilitated back into a dysfunctional society.

Why is it that a certain class of people,
Feel they can free themselves...
From committing the most horrendous deeds,
To excuse what is done...
At the taxpayers expense,
To get them much needed mental therapy?

When a swift kick where they sit,
And done in public...
Would end such exorbitant fees,
No one benefits or receives...
As a return to retrieve a dividend.
But expected is a giving of a forgiveness.

And anyone with a consciousness witnessing this,
Knows this is a bunch of...

'Of What?
You didn't finish it.'

Use your imagination.
Do you really think I have to?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Who Annoint Themselves Qualified

What institutions do you have left,
That are steadfast and valid?

Hmmm,
Well...
The only ones that seem,
To have stood the test of time...
Are your 'mental institutions'.
However...
I do question their validity.

Since those who annoint themselves qualified,
To determine 'who' has mental issues...
Are the very ones responsible for the cause.
Happening at such alarming rates.

And I am glad you have asked me that question.

It just occurred to me...
Those who annoint themselves qualified,
To determine 'who' has mental issues...
Do so to keep themselves employed.
And...
Advocated for reasons why additional funding is needed,
To keep rehabilitation programs updated.
With the hiring of more qualified personnel a recommendation.
How clever.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going, Going...Gone!

Gon' git outta here...
Trying to spread that mess!
You ain't heard me say nuthin'...
About her or her ugliness.
All I said,
Was he wasn't wrapped too tight,
In his head.
Because 'you' have issues with her...
You need not tell lies,
To have them roll their eyes at me.
You gooooood for stirring things up!
And then sittin' back and laughin'...
Like you're not the cause for all the fuss!

Gon' git outta here...
Trying to spread that mess!
Talkin' 'bout,
How you saw who with who.
And which one said something,
About me...
That I should address!
And you don't want to get involved?
Because you don't think it is your place?
But you are all up in their business...
And you are telling lies all up in my face?

Gon'...
Git.
Outta here!
You ain't satisfied...
Until an argument hits the air.
And you don't care,
Who is in it or how it starts!
You just like to agitate.
Do it...
And then depart!

Gon' git outta here...
Trying to spread fresh mess!
You are getting too old for this.
This act of yours is too predictable.
And getting easier to resist in protest.
Folks have updated their ways to gossip today!
They use email, blogs and text messages,
To say what they have to say!
And this method that you are using...
Is tired.
Outdated.
Slow and lacking imagination.
Like a turtle stuck in molasses.

'Huh? '

You gotta add some 'beatz'!
And package it with somethin' slammin'.
With a rhyme or two.
And loop that with some hip hop!
Download it and then you in da biz!
Got that?
THEN,
You dropp it!
Hot or not!

'What in the hell are you talking about?
Nobody is in their right mind today.
No where!
I can't find a single person,
Who values the art of gossip!
Going, going...gone, is another lost treasure!
Man, you need to see a doctor...quick.
You're going through some menopause...
Or something!
SOMETHING is wrong with you!
I think your mind has 'flipped'!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maybe..

It’s been a while
A while since his hand dialed my number
But, today
Today anything seems possible
He could call, he could call
Finally – thank you.

It’s been so long
So long since his eyes found me
But, today
Today he saw me
He saw me, he saw me
Finally – thank you.

It’s been forever
Forever since his arms wrapped around my body
But, today
Today he held me
He held me. He held me
Finally – thank you.

poem by Nikki Taboada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coming Home

It's a long and lonely highway.
When you're traveling all alone.
I was on my way to nowhere.
But now i'm coming home.
I'm coming home.
I've been running through the fire.
I've been running for so long.
If i took it any higher.
Baby i would be still be gone.
But now i'm coming home, coming home.i'm coming home.
Coming home, coming home, i'm coming home.
Well my home was really never.
On a far and distant shore.
If i stayed away forever.
I could never miss you more.
And so i'm coming home,coming home.i'm coming home.
Coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
I think of all these years gone by.
Never even wondered why.
I never touched the ground.
All the time that's come and gone.
All the nights i've been alone.
And now i'm homeward bound.
I heard the thunder over canaan.
And i've heard the angels cry.
And their voices came revealing
"as you live,so will you die."
I'm coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
I'm coming home,coming home,i'm coming home.
Coming home, coming home, i'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home, coming home, coming home...

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Activated! And Applied Swiftly

It is important to keep,
Mentally and physically disciplined.
An active mind and body,
Aren't so fast to wear down.
Especially if you have annoying little kids,
Getting on your nerves and running around.
Or grandchildren.
Although loved!

But isn't it nice...
To be able to leave town?
To breathe fresh air!
Listening to the sound of silence.
And as often as available cash found,
Will allow.
Affording a recess,
From bouts of shouting and names yelled.

Or overhearing whispers murmured,
From someone who wishes you to go to hell!

'I heard that!
And 'if' I hear those words from you again,
You're going to get it!
Laugh if you want to.
But I'll provoke more than a joke on you.
Do you hear me?
Do you HEAR ME? '

It is important to keep,
Mentally and physically disciplined.
To prevent agonizing wishes...
Picked from distant memories.
With no need to reminsce.
Especially when days of hesitation rush,
To rest upon aging thighs and butts!
Finding you have sat too long,
Sitting and getting out of touch!

And aching with sore muscles...
Feeling a need to curse and often cuss.
When you could have spent a few minutes a day...
Moving your feet to a rhythm kept.
And obeying receptively,
A fast paced beat for moments of sweating.
Knowing how and when to use the stamina,
In emergencies when needed.

It is important to keep,
Mentally and physically disciplined.
They are like secret weapons,
Activated!
And applied swiftly,
When the time comes to fly away from nonsense!
Without a need to threaten to swing a cane.
Or remembering where it was left,
To do it!

'Has anyone seen my cane?
You better not let me find it too soon!
I wish you all shut up in there!
You're going to get it!
Laugh if you want to.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Also Know How To Keep Misgivings

in my patience
i also learned how to keep misgivings
like a sponge
i absorb everything that wets me

everyday
i keep the secrets of my life
adding them and putting them all together

how hurt i am
how i keep the pains like they were precious gems
in my secret pockets
of my memories

i do not complain
i have no reasons to support them
except that
i have surrendered myself in the name of love

someday i will be full
like a cup unable to keep the foam
overflowing

i will not burst like a balloon
i will not explode like a bomb
you know me very well
in my passive silence

there will be no wars or unkind word uttered
there will be no questions
i will just take my long vacation
taking all my necessary belongings
with a note
that never will i be coming back

i always think of a new life
i always have in mind another new beginning

there in the place where i can breathe freely
finally without you

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Based On Claims and Stolen Dreams

Efforts to reduce,
A self esteem one earns...
Is too obvious a tactic,
For one who only has a talent...
To undermine and broadcast it.
That's how obvious these tactics.

And when someone of a narrow mind,
Is behind such foolish schemes...
This also exposes the environment,
That allows those of lowlife...
To climb to heights,
Just based on claims and stolen dreams.

Without producing credentials or evidence,
Of competence.
While those who are capable are often depicted,
As fools.
Or something less flattering to sell to those who gossip.
To ensure one's defeat and public embarrassment,
Becomes signed, sealed and certified.

But...
Guess who eventually wins?
And guess whose steps are then scrutinized?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Did You Say To Me? What Did You Say?

A growing significance to prevent,
An appearance of one's unlimited intelligence...
Often is tried to document,
With applying of chemicals invented to test minds picked...
As if scientists can depict what makes human beings tick.

And as a device to intervene,
Manipulation is used to wedge between...
Those riding in the back seats of a bus.
With minds already addicted and messed up,
Fussing and cussing to disrupt.
And the ones running behind it trying to catch up,
To gossip with others who have become offended...
By anyone who knows exactly where that bus goes!

'If there is one thing I can't 'stand',
Is someone who thinks they know everything.'

~I am the driver.
Did you signal me to stop?
Is this where you want to get off? ~

'And if I do...
What's it to you? '

~God...
Please speed the end of this shift.~

'What did you say to me?
What did you say? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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- Human

Dont you leave me father time
Take me with you
Tell me does your sun still shine
Come squeeze the world and drip it down my throat...oh yeah
Down my throat again....woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Touch me so I think Im here
Skin my senses
Barely breathing
Minus human
Please squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
Down my throat again.....woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for!

song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Grow to Keep This Between Us Flowing

I grow to keep this between us flowing.
Open and without issues to address.
And I'll be the first to admit,
My life had been once a mess.
But I am not regressing to my past.
I know now I am at my best.
And misdeeds done I've put to rest!
I grow to keep this between us flowing.
With a secret wish,
Inside my head you'll get!
It's not too often I will soften to say that.
But there is something about you,
I can not resist!
Perhaps it is that look you have,
That seduces me to persist.
And if you insist on staring at me...
I will keep pursuing you like this!
I grow to keep this between us flowing.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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