Not Into Abstract Pictures Painted
There are those who wish to make sense,
In an attempt to make that process meant...
And meaningful.
But their lack of experience to get a point across,
Leaves those misunderstanding...
What is the intention if communicating a thought,
Is a statement made.
'Assuming' it,
Has been clearly delivered to receive a response...
From someone not into abstract pictures painted.
Or statemements made disconnected from rhyme,
Purpose OR reason.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Ink (for Theresa Marie)
As I crease each page with the pressure of my point,
Cutting into the flow of each character,
I strive to lay lines to the surface of meaning.
I attempt to make sense of the flow of my thoughts
As I try to define with each separate line
The value that each gesture strives for.
I cut into pieces the correlation
Among the characters in my narrative;
Between scribing and feeling.
But this contradiction between purpose and process,
Between intention and muscle response,
Belies the nature of liquid.
For the amount of flow,
If nature has its way,
Is determined by the size of its reservoir.
So to finish my thoughts
In the context of language
Do I cede to the size of my pen?
Do I rely on the nature of language?
Or the language of nature’s mien?
poem by Dan Ramirez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is That A Question Or A Statement
Do you mind repeating what you just said?
'Of course not.
What is it that you wish to be repeated? '
That's what I am asking you.
I don't know.
'Well,
How do you expect us...
To have a meaningful conversation,
And communicate...
If you are not paying attention.
Now what kind of sense does that make? '
None?
'Already I'm confused.
Is that a question or a statement,
You just made? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Procrastinations Created to Make An Erasing
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
People like this are easily offended.
Believing their disrespect for others,
Should be condoned.
People like this,
Anticipate being appreciated!
For making mediocrity enforced upon others.
With a downgrading of their expectations.
And communicating that,
To entrap as this is shown!
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
And as incredible as this may be...
People extend to them patience,
With comprehension.
Instead of giving them a boot to the curb!
Asked for and deserved!
A lack of discipline should never be rewarded.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Welcomed Into the Family of Comprehension
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
What hand reaching out to shake,
Does not support that?
What prolonged heartbreak,
Would stay wallowing in sorrow?
To borrow an excuse,
Or a chance not to view agony?
Close up and into a tear stained face.
You should not want that reflecting...
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
No thing is detached,
That keeps an attraction from coming back.
Something is attached to that.
And seriously repeated.
When done,
The meaning of that purpose...
Should not go misunderstood!
Like selling one 'pot' who requested 'crack'.
An end should come to that.
When the mind gets that whacked out.
And chained to keep one remaining unchanged.
If it does because of ignorance declared delicious?
That can be forgiven, allowed and forgotten.
We all have had our cravings.
However...
If it does come from an intention reeking in deceit?
That can be considered a good cause,
Some some severe cussing out!
And some folks have earned their cussing out,
Those deserving it...
Rights!
And some folks can be sadistic about it!
You can not cuss them out enough!
There are a number of them to unionize.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
If it does come from an intention meant?
That can be shallow, obvious...
And an absence of common sense.
And an absence of it is more common than not!
If one ain't got it!
And an intention done lacking sense,
Wastes too much time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Made It
Bad time for love - you caught me on your birthday
I could feel your heart break into a hundred pieces
We were too torn apart, now it seems so senseless
And if were clever, well put it together, it may be forever
Chorus:
We made it, made it, made it before, I know that we can make it again
We made it, made it, made it before, I know that we can make it again
Down on my luck, you arrived just in time, my angel
Thought youd given me up, like a rhyme that needs no reason
I want you enough to keep my life untangled
If were clever, well put it together, cos it may be forever
Chorus
(instrumental break)
I want you enough to keep my life untangled
If were clever, well put it together, cos it may be forever
Chorus repeats 2x
If ever well make it, were gonna make it girl
And I know we can take it, we got to take it, girl
If ever we can make it, we gotta make it
And I know we can take it...
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But...Don't You Think That's Stupid?
Unflattering and degrading comments to me made! ?
If I had not been raised prepared to receive them,
Or listen with intent to criticisms sent my way...
My strut would not have had such a focus with purpose.
Nor would I feel what I did m
Meant 'something' to get,
Enough attention to be mentioned.
'Why do you do what you do?
As if to have others believe you are a fool? '
Ssshhh.
What are you trying to do?
Ruin my reputation?
What makes you 'think'...
I am not doing the best I can,
To represent myself as one.
'But...
Don't you think that's stupid? '
Of course I do.
So what point are your trying to make?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Something Else Unstated
What is it that one 'should' expect to accept?
That which is told and thought to be correct.
Or another version of it,
To then be told what was first said and heard...
One should forget since it was not meant,
To be intended to be interpreted...
For anyone to take seriously.
'Then why say these things at all?
What is the purpose? '
~Today?
I've learned not to analyze one's intentions.
Or the depths of their honesty or purpose,
To avert away from it.
It has become too easy for anyone,
To change what they initially say...
For something else unstated,
They claim to have meant.~
'Why bother to make attempts,
To have a meaningful conversation? '
~How can that be done?
When people have not experienced,
The benefit or purpose of having one.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shut Off Notices
'Even when to them done,
People still do not get the message.'
Trying to play catch up,
With time given to them lost...
Makes as much sense,
As one setting their alarm clock...
Ten minutes fast,
Only to appear an hour late...
And out of breath.
With yet another excuse delivered to make.
'And...
This is accepted behavior? '
ACCEPTED?
Are you kidding?
The only thing everyone knows,
That happens on time here is...
Those 'shut off notices' received,
From the phone company, cable...
And their utilities.
When someone gets a statement that reads,
'Pay By Noon'...
Pointless it is,
To attempt to make arrangements...
At twelve-o-Five.
'Even when to them done,
People still do not get the message.'
They do.
But guess who is faulted and blamed?
'The utility people supplying the service? '
Them and everyone else,
Tired of putting up with that nonsense.
And have had it with a servicing to them patience.
'So those shut off notices 'are' effective? '
In an 'offending giving kind of way',
Yes!
'Have you ever sent anyone a 'Shut Off Notice? '
No!
But I have...
However,
Made sure any messages delivered I did send...
Were understood without a need for me to vent,
In last statements written.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Winters Over
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Time for some repairs.
Make it even better for the next year.
I must be prepared.
For the harsh realities that bring so much despair.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Stipping off all these cloths.
I was so overloaded.
Like a snake I'm shedding my skin.
Replacing it with something better then.
Putting out my sign soon.
Home made and hand crafted.
So green all I used was my surroundings.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Still their is no single silver bullet when it comes to life.
No antidote to some difficulties.
Sometimes you must face things headon with a little sweat and hardwork maybe you'll come out on top.
Provide a helping hand to those who still have not.
Just because your better off doesn't mean so is everyone else.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Lost As A Treasured Experience
If it was not meant to be taken seriously,
None of it would have been given to be taken
With a purpose to receive,
And comprehend its meaning.
Instead of comprehending the meaning of it,
It has been left to sit
As of its existence is there to provide,
One a uselessness.
And one who has decided,
That all there is to it was to use
Until the nourishment from it was exhausted.
Then an exhaustion from taking it for granted
Leaves.
If
It was not meant to be taken seriously,
What is the purpose for any of it to exist.
Just to please the existing of the unimportance,
To prioritize an increasing toleration of nonsense.
And
If nonsense continues to increase,
The purpose of witnessing any of this
Diminishes in value to be lost as a treasured experience.
Never to have been found worthy of its priceless blessing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life Is Too Meaningful
Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Each moment of it given...
Is as fresh as those last moments passed.
It's not always a funfest.
Some seriousness is needed.
And misdeeds confessed put to rest!
Harboring anger and bitterness...
Makes little sense to defend.
Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Each moment of it given...
Is as fresh as those last moments passed.
There are those who sit in a stubbornness.
Unwilling and unbending.
And putting an end to their own progress.
Hoping to find someone to understand their whins.
But no one takes that time to comprehend.
People have their own issues...
And many with no one who they can depend.
It's not always a funfest.
Some seriousness is needed.
And misdeeds confessed put to rest!
Harboring anger and bitterness...
Makes little sense to defend.
Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Each moment of it given...
Is as fresh as those last moments passed.
And with or without anyone involved...
It comes as we know it!
And leaves us when it does,
To another place...
No one can now say,
They have been shown!
Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Or to live it in conflicts unsolved,
To sit in misery to share or flaunt to flourish.
For purposes to discourage,
With the smothering of any good intention!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Isn't That The Reason
Why should you undo what has been done?
And if you could...
Why would you?
Who learned from the experience?
Did the process make any sense?
And if it did not...
A thought upon a mind was dropped,
To be not forgotten!
And isn't that the reason,
Someone had to do something?
If it had not been you...
Would you have been left wishing,
For more or less understanding?
And who would be there to fully comprehend?
As long as the action was taken...
Let time clarify the motive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The way we make sense of a realistic text is through the same broad ideological frame as the way we make sense of our social experience or rather, the way we are made sense of by the discourses of our culture.
quote by John Fiske
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Don't Believe
You don't believe -- I won't attempt to make ye:
You are asleep -- I won't attempt to wake ye.
Sleep on! sleep on! while in your pleasant dreams
Of Reason you may drink of Life's clear streams.
Reason and Newton, they are quite two things;
For so the swallow and the sparrow sings.
Reason says `Miracle': Newton says `Doubt.'
Aye! that's the way to make all Nature out.
`Doubt, doubt, and don't believe without experiment':
That is the very thing that Jesus meant,
When He said `Only believe! believe and try!
Try, try, and never mind the reason why!'
poem by William Blake
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Your Last Line...It Does Not Rhyme
I've been accused of not giving.
When that is all I've ever done.
I've also been accused of not participating,
Although when I did...
None of that from the others would come.
From anyone!
Not even 'some'.
Now that I have chosen my time not to waste,
I've been told I am ungrateful...
And self centered,
Of late.
And my response to those who bait division...
Is that we all make decisions.
And I've made mine to break away from that madness.
'Your last line...
It does not rhyme.'
And I ain't trying to find reason for it, either.
When I eat cookies and leave not a crumb...
That means I'm done!
'Cool.
That line does rhyme.'
It makes me happy you have set your priorities.
So have I.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Promises Are Made To Be Kept
Today I have made myself this one promise...
Not to make anymore.
Promises are made to be kept.
And why should I make them to myself?
Of late...
I have not made a promise,
I have yet to keep that was met.
I am getting older.
And those who are doing this,
Know how moody the elders get.
And promising myself,
I will not get upset...
Is as worthless as those attitudes I get into.
To then forget the reason 'why' I am so cranky.
Or who it was I promised,
What was done whether consciously or not...
Someone will have reason to regret.
And often it was me on the receiving end!
Yes.
So today,
Without delay...
I have made myself this one promise,
Not to make anymore.
Promises are made to be kept.
And why should I make them to myself?
Especially,
Since I promise myself to remember...
Where I leave my keys.
And it takes me at least an hour to find them.
Only to realize...
All that time they have been in my pants pocket.
'OH.
Oh...I...uh.'
So today,
Without delay...
I have made myself this one promise,
Not to make anymore.
It's embarrassing enough,
To accuse someone else...
Of stealing them.
Although I can display,
Awesome humility!
And having the ability to use my advancing age,
Is not beneath me.
Whatever works...
Not to appear to be thought of as a jerk!
'You know...
I thought that was change in my pocket,
I was going to ask you if you needed.
Before I let those 'keys' let me lose my concentration!
If you're going to be here for a while,
I'll be right back!
You need anything while I'm out? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Isolated and Marooned
There is a power achieved with blinded ignorance.
Found to have survived in abundantness as witnessed.
And it leaves those who think...
And feeling isolated and marooned.
Even though the existence of human life,
Surrounds and some detect is suspected!
But none of it wished is due to arrive soon...
Wth a familiarity heard coming from the lips!
There is a consciousness that connects,
With an expected comprehensing intelligence.
Desiring to accept.
And yet,
Like all mirages one envisions when deserted...
An eye contact may be exchanged.
However...
What is in certain brains,
Has escaped from common sense.
And communicating to receive,
Meaningful feedback desired and perceived...
Frustrates!
When it is realized much too late,
This process has been estranged.
And what appears,
Is hollow and dense!
With a capable ability to remain the same.
A delusion fantasized!
And on the verge of being humanized.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Should Have Seen More of the World
I should have seen more of the world
It has so many things -
I should have touched the details down to the slightest difference
And made each perception – meaningful
I should have had a kind of mind different from my own
Less general and abstract and more able to make sensations real-
I should have spoken of what touches the earth and the actual lives
Of so many kinds of different people -
But I did not -
I sang my poem in my own small way about my own endless self
And thought and made my poems of thought
And I too writing this
Remembering how I always vowed to never repeat my father
And live in regret
Try to not say, ' Should and could and would have been’.
There are other things and other people and other worlds and much I cannot do and be -
Let me sing my own song
Others have what they have
And I what I am
And this poem too
Another meditation
Which tries to have a music of its own
And somehow broken and half real stumbles upon the page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My life Lived Is Not Created From An Assumption
Never will I waste my time,
In argument to define my mind.
With someone who professes to know,
My predicament.
And wish to debate decisions I make...
From their point of view to dissect and undo.
If I say what I've done from my own experience,
Has made a difference in the way...
I perceive and display,
The actions I make!
That has nothing to do with anyone who assumes,
Who I am with a retaliation to influence misunderstanding.
My life lived is not created from an assumption!
For anyone to come along to dump their opinions,
Based upon what they have heard through gossip.
If someone wishes to know what my thoughts are,
They need to come to the source.
And not try to endorse beliefs perceived to deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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