Not Listening or Paying Attention
Put a smile on your face.
Take your food stamps and fixed income.
And be happy you have shelter...
In a warm and safe comfortable place!
Those who looked upon you,
With turned up noses just last year...
Wish they were in your shoes,
Right now.
There is not a hint of a grin on those who ache.
Exposing frowns traced with bitterness and disgrace.
Take my advice,
And be thankful you are blessed.
Be grateful you are not like the rest,
Who are experiencing financial and emotional ruin.
Weighing heavy on their shoulders and reflecting stress.
'What kind of 'reading' is that?
You said you were a psychic! '
I most certainly did not!
Once again...
You have misunderstood me.
I said you need to stop your sighing!
Because the sight of you and hearing it,
Makes me sick!
However,
I must admit this...
Not listening or paying attention,
Has produced for you a benefit!
The others will claim they've done the opposite.
And look where they are...
Tied in knots and expressing mental anguish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I'm sick of you
Can’t you tell I’m sick of you?
If you can’t let me make it straight,
I’m sick of having this debate,
I’m sick of being the friend you come to when you’re bored,
And I’m sick of my words being ignored,
I’m sick of listening to you telling me what to do,
I’m sick of having to do chores for you,
I quit,
I’m sick of hearing you flirt with my brother,
Why don’t you go find another?
I’m sick of hearing what you and your friends are doing,
But never hearing “you’re going”,
I’m sick of not being good enough,
Sorry we don’t like the same stuff,
I sick of you caring what people think of me,
It’s me, and I don’t agree,
I am who I am like it or leave it,
So I will go, but I must admit,
I am a screw up, not the best at being a friend,
But I don’t talk crap, don’t pretend,
I don’t use, lie, or fake,
So as I said, this is me,
Like it or leave it,
I am done.
poem by Courtney Helm
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What Makes You Cry?
Now Ive got a question baby
What makes you cry?
cos I havent seen any water
In the corners of your eyes
For a day, or a week
Or a month, or a year
Havent seen much of you
Since you left me my dear
Cant you see that Im hurting
How Im falling apart
Dont you care about my drinking
Or my poor lonely heart
I thought you liked football
You didnt mind those videos
And my dog didnt mean
To ruin your clothes (he cant help it)
Now you wont take my phone calls
You sent my letters back
Youre paying for a lawyer
To stab me in the back
Then I saw you on the street
You looked happy, thats a fact
Im impressed - its a hell of an act
Angel - admit it, admit it
Darlin - admit it, admit it
Your love for me didnt die
Its just sleepin
Now I hope you can hear me
Wherever you are
In a cheap hotel room
Or the back seat of a car
I make up those situations
I dont know if theyre true
But Ill tell you, for now, theyll do
Angel - admit it, admit it
Darlin - admit it, admit it
Your love for me didnt die
Its just sleepin
And it wakes every night
To your weeping
Now Ive got a question bady
What makes you cry?
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Know Yourself
Don't wonder about it!
Things have changed for you,
Dramatically.
Especially...
When you have passed your own image,
Reflecting...
From a storefront window.
And you return to get a second look.
Believing you saw someone you recognized,
Inside...
As you were strolling by.
And you stop to stare.
Realizing you still do.
It's you!
It's just that you have spent too much time,
On the outside.
And you smile...
At yourself.
Feeling happy you are blessed.
Knowing so many are upset...
With the affects of aging.
And you...
Step spryly away.
As someone waves to get your attention,
With a grin to convince...
You can spend your last dime,
On something you can least afford.
When you know yourself....
There is little else you need!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Happy Face
If you feel a bit gloomy,
put a smile on your face
it will help to cheer you up
and is no disgrace.
Smiling at someone
makes your world a brighter place,
and if they smile back,
you’ll be surprised how good you feel.
Therefore, the advice that
I am giving you is easy,
to feel good within yourself
put on a happy face.
poem by David Harris
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Too Happy to Fit a Bitterness into My Schedule
Never once,
Did I suggest, hint or insinuate...
Your way of life and outlook,
Was a prefabrication.
You knew my beliefs were different.
And we did not let that become between us,
As friends.
But of late,
You have become more irate.
And you seem to be annoyed,
I am not expressing disappointment...
That you are struggling,
To keep your head above water.
When I faced obstacles on my chosen path.
You laughed.
Expressing no empathy at all.
In fact,
You and your 'friends'...
Would wine and dine,
And socialize without end.
If fact,
You had more time with them to spend.
You then would ignore my calls,
When I needed your company...
As a friend to another.
To say something to me,
In the support of keeping me from not feeling...
Completely lonely.
And this is what you said...
'You made that bed,
Now lay in it by yourself.'
Well...
You made that bed,
Now lay in it by yourself.
You should be comfortable with those words.
But then,
To them I would add...
~Where are those 'friends'?
The ones you chose over me? ~
Am I harborng a bit of bitterness?
No.
Just stating to you what I know to be true.
I'm too happy to fit a bitterness into my schedule.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lives Complete
My beloved daughter came home in a flurry of
stories about feeding lambs, killing foxes and
sleeping outside on a farm in Namibia as well
as a stream of complaints about her room - I
put her trinkets away for visiting family
Her bedroom lights inexplicably won’t switch on,
her dad gets the brunt of that - I reacted like an
autistic child, my lips did not know how to smile,
listening in silence to everything she said, only
when I was alone expressing my joy
In song, singing old Dutch hymns at the top of my
voice, joy coursing through my veins, my child safe,
I rub her back and listen to her sermons about the
sanctity of her room – just the way I want it to be,
her dad changed from a wound-up spring to
Being relaxed, the smile right round his face, our
lives complete, he already lecturing her on the
year’s course, she listening with a grin, what
joy, what delight, living in a state of grace…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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012-Saturday Nights...They Ain't The Same!
I used to live for Saturday nights. I'd get all
spiffed up, go to my favorite watering hole,
and drink and dance, till they turned off the lights.
Hell, when they turned off the lights...the night
was just beginning. A bunch of us would go
our for Chinese food, and laugh and eat for
hours more.
The lucky ones would wind up with someone
to go home with-make love like it was gonna
be their last time...curl up and sleep with the
smile still on their face.
Next morning wake to bacon cooking and
someone with a smile...pushing a cup
of coffee your way.
Now, on Saturday Night, I'm grateful for a warm
place to sleep...a decent retirement check...
being in reasonably good health...curling
up under a warm blankets and being surrounded by
the welcomed silence.
I'm especially grateful for not having
to pretend to be something I'm not and
now just doing 'what I want...when I want.'
Nope...Saturday Nights Ain't What They Use To Be.
Tell you a secret. Sometimes I miss them...but most
times I don't.
If You Are Not Feeling It
Do you have it in yourself to achieve?
Are you bothered by listening and discipline?
Does either one of them or both...
Make you cringe?
Especially when someone experienced,
Tells you over and over again...
Those are the two key elements to success.
And you regard criticisms, advice and suggestions...
As being offensive to your sensitivities?
Plus you rather socialize than to sacrifice your time,
To do anything that prioritizes...
What you claim to have love and interest to do.
And there is no loyalty or devotion applied?
Where is your passion?
Do 'I' think you have it in yourself to achieve?
That's the question you did ask me,
Right?
Well...
You have none of that of which I just mentioned.
Was that a trick question?
Or did you just want to see me laugh?
And why would you ask me,
A question like that in the first place?
If you are not feeling it...
What makes you believe that I can feel 'that',
Coming from you?
Stop seeking attention.
Stop seeking acceptance.
Start...
Believing in yourself and your abilities,
And you will never have to ask me...
Or anyone else,
A question like that again.
Now get out of my face.
You're wasting 'my' time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With a Pleading to Be Forgiven
One day cynics and their sarcasms,
Will no longer exist to be disregarded...
As ones displaying their envy and bitterness,
To depict their observations...
Of those still clinging onto their fixed,
And sweetened beliefs.
One day cynics and their sarcasms,
Will be accepted as commentators defining the times.
And keeping it real for those ending their diets,
On Grade A pretentions and those hard to face facts.
You know...
Eliminating excessive fat from one's diet isn't easy.
Especially those encouraged to accept wherever they stepped,
Produced a ton of gold without them exposing to show...
From where they 'tiptoed' their stolen treasures.
To enable themselves to flaunt their wealth...
While acquiring a distaste for humanity.
A distaste they will someday regret.
With a pleading to be forgiven of their conscious deeds.
After they have exhausted completely...
Both the feast and themselves,
From such exclusive feeding of their own selfish needs.
One day...
Cynics and their sarcasms will be embraced,
As fact finders unafraid to step on a few toes.
Or lower many turned up noses.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thankfulness
I am thankful for my family
and my friends who care about me
when I am lonely or sad
I am thankful for the one I
love and when I am not happy,
it’s my family that makes me glad
I am thankful for the things
that I have and for the life
i’m living
I am thankful for a home
That I have and for the
things that I forgive
I am thankful to have a nice
family that I like and for the
things that I have done
I am thankful to have pets
that I need and the things
that I like about you
I am thankful for my dad taking
me to basketball games and the
food that I like to make
I am thankful to have a loving sister
that I fight with sometimes but
it will not be forever
I am thankful to go to school that
sometimes don’t like to go to but
it will not be for the rest of my life
I am thankful to have a
dad that doesn’t smoke
and for him having a loving wife
I am thankful to come back
to the US and for the friends
that I miss in China
I am thankful to have a lot
of friends in China and the US
and they miss me
I am thankful to be the
tallest in my family and
my parents agree
I am thankful to be
good at basketball
and I play for a team
How Are You, My Friend?
It happens very often
When someone on another side of the Earth
Suddenly stops your crazy race
Asking such a simple question:
How are you my friend?
Instantly it becomes warmer
Hearing those kind words
And a series of depressing days
Breaks into the sunny rays.
A happy smile creeps up your face,
Everyone you would like to embrace.
You were almost on the edge of crying,
But a minute of warmth saved you,
The happy man they’ve made you.
You feel confidence in yourself,
You know that someone feels you,
You are not like a dusty book on the shelf,
You know that someone needs you.
Kind words create your emotions,
They show your dears devotion.
I am thankful for all those
Who can see my mental state.
I would like here to propose
Kind words in speech create
As they never irritate.
Say compliments! They make us happy,
They make us snappy.
Kind words our hearts soften.
So, say them often!
Do not delay but say:
How are you my friend?
I’ll be with you up to the end.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 10th of April,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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To Seem Detached From Stress
I admit to feeling honored.
And also repeatedly blessed.
To have someone like you,
Make comments...
About those confessions I profess,
And express with an openness...
To seem detached from stress.
I am not always as secure,
As I seem when attempting to impress.
I just feel what I say comes from an honesty.
And being true to myself,
Sometimes has created my own loneliness...
That has left me with moments of distressed.
I admit to feeling honored.
And also repeatedly blessed.
To have someone like you,
Make comments...
About those confessions I profess,
That expresses an openness...
To seem detached from stress.
But I am not that different,
From those wishing more...
And not less,
Of those moments I regret...
To have a happiness,
That will leave me to be...
Feeling free to be at my best.
Without experiencing an aloneness,
Through what is felt at times...
An unwinding road confined,
To a wilderness...
That sits inside,
Of an inquisitive mind.
Traveling as it does without any sign of rest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Rest Of My Life
Dont look now but theres another rocky road
Another heavy why? of the much 2 heavy, heavy load
But 2day Im gonna face it, yeah, cuz Im sick of dealin any other way
Nobody said the race was fair but Im gonna keep runnin just the same
2day, 2day is the first day of the rest of my life
Dont look now but here comes another heartbreak
Benefit of the doubt Ill give it, control of my life Ive gotta take
Cuz Im alive and thats reason enough 4 me 2 bust a smile
Ive arrived and now I wanna stay 4 a little while
Cuz 2day, 2day is the first day of the rest of my life
Lets go
2day, 2day is the first day of the rest of my life
2day, 2day is the first day of the rest of my life
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thanks Mom
We’re thankful for you Mom
For your warm, gorgeous face.
There’s no better Mom than you
Anywhere or any place.
Your soothing words and gentle smile
Always helped us through our day.
You taught us all the while
Your love was the only way.
Because of you we enjoy the gift of living,
And are so grateful you’re our Mom that
Everyday is Thanksgiving!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Smiling
The beach makes me smile
I love the color of the water
And the feel of the salty air
On my skin
Hearing my favorite song on the radio makes me smile
I'll roll down the windows
And sing along
Just a little bit off key
Seeing other people smile, makes me smile
Laughing children,
Happy cashiers at the grocery store
As they ring up my loaf of bread
It's the simplest things that make me smile
But do you know what makes me smile most of all?
Being near you makes me smile
I would like to smile the rest of my life
(TUESDAY FEBRUARY 16,2010)
poem by Allie Jones
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~Sick of Crazy~
Day One- I am sitting here happy...
Day Two- I might be sad...
Day Three- I could be angry or peaceful that depends on the counsellor I had...
Day Four- I could be feeling nothing which is quite normal for me...
Day Five- I’m going crazy, but no one ever notices me...
Day Six- I’m fixing myself and also everything else too...
Day Seven- I’m remembering that no one else is ever as messed up as you...
I survived my whole life this crazy insane way.~
Listening to what everyone else has to say.~
One major thing I forgot to do on my agenda was pray! !
Life got too hard for me so I planned an accident something big you know a scandal~
The first attempt didn’t get the attention I thought I required, so a jump would surely show them that I have blew completely off the handle....
I feel at times like I am back at square one.~
I feeling like screaming, crying and yelling at my evil- self ~
I really want to run.~
I want to hide back in that place that I almost was....
The place where the normal people cannot get me anymore and all I can feel is warm fuzz....
I’m sick of diagnoses....
I’m freaking sick of doctors...
I’m sick of being sick!
I’m sick of being scared!
I’m sick of pretty much everything that should have just been FAIR.~
I’m sick of being bi-polar~
I’m sick of being depressed~
I’m sick of ADHD, ANXIETY, OCD, ODD and all of the rest....
I’m sick of doctors trying to tell me who I am, my life no more will be a med changing test~!
I am me this is who I am...
I might be crazy, or a little off the wall. ~
I might want to cry and curl up in a ball.~
No more diagnoses! Nope, Not for me!
I am happy and content with letting the real inside me flow free.
Not what me the doctor of the week thinks the world should see.
poem by Cassanya Anderson
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Ironically Enough
Ironically enough,
As irony has come to me to show and bestow.
If it had not been for the anguish.
With those emotional traumas to experience.
Accompanied by physical and mental stress.
Connecting to the breaking up of relationships.
And those temptations that came to test,
That left me crawling on my knees.
And deep in despair,
Feeling lower than a low can get!
To look up to it as a goal to achieve.
I doubt very seriously...
That the happiness I now have,
Would have been appreciated...
To enjoy to such a degree!
And to have humor about it too?
I've been truly blessed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be Thankful
Whatever you believe,
In your life that is missed.
Whatever it is,
You wished you had
But does not exist.
Be grateful even for that!
Let your faith remain in tact!
And be thankful.
Feel blessed.
Don't compare yourself with the rest.
Accept that God knows best.
And for you,
As long as you keep your faith in Him true...
He will do for you what He alone does.
He'll come through.
God delivers!
He is the best 'stimulus' you can get!
Know it.
Be thankful.
And insist...
With consistent obedience,
You are deserving.
And be thankful,
For the gifts God gives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Cold Drive And A Warm Night-Chapter Two
He watched her take the drink
still warm and she cupped it
with two hands, warming them up.
The hands were thin.
She was not a farm girl
and she averted her eyes when
she looked at him.
The face was small with delicate
features
yet they were strong in their own way.
He wondered how what kind of lover she would be..
He wondered too how she could have
made a wrong turn and gotten here.
There were signs that clearly stated
'no public road'. 'dead end road.'
She noticed his stare and pulled at
her comforter, pulled it up more
around her shoulders.
She looked at him as she did so
noticing if he was noticing, if he was looking.
He noticed her noticing.
But he did not stop looking and she
to his surprize, didn't avert her eyes.
She looked right back, examing his face.
He looked down a bit to see what the comforter
was concealing, what shape her breasts were.
She noticed this too, and blushed.
He grunted, his grunt, satisfied that he had
a good look at her and got up.
He still didn't know what she was doing there
and he would feel uneasy until he find out.
He stood, walked by her and took his coat
from the coat stand, her eyes following him.
He turned pulling the heavy coat on saying.
'I'll be back.'
Have to check and push your car
back onto the road. Otherwise, the wind
will kick up, and by morning it will be buried
and tough to get out.
Another storm coming in.
It'll be cold tonite.'
Her eyes diverted again and she said, 'You will be back?
How long will it take? '
'You'll be ok. You can call me on the spare cell phone
over there. Look up my name, Lonnie.'
She nodded.
He closed the door still disturbed about her sudden arrival.
It was not an accident. He would check her glove compartment
in her rental car, maybe some info there, he thought to himself.
Meantime, Jenny sat up drinking her tea thinking:
'Damn he will find the rental agreement. What else was in the car? '
He'll start to wonder why she was really there. She could see that
he didn't believe her 'lost' story. 'Damn her cell phone was in the car too.
Everything was in the car. Damn her purse too! He had everything.
He wasn't what she expected, younger, sort of bold in the way he
looked at you. He really looked at you. Made her a bit uneasy
but it was different to have someone look at you. I mean he looked
at everything, your eyes, your hair, your body. The man looked.
But flirting aside she knew he'd be back and she would have to explain
why she was really there.
She was safe but it might not be comfortable when he found out.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Sophia The Psychic She Lived Down The Road
Sophia the psychic she lived down the road
She knew the roads she knew the souls
An Antipythia of the broken heart
Wept ‘don’t know thyself ‘tis too deep’
Know thy paths not entangled they are
‘spread like lilies’ not needing the truth
Sophia the psychic centuries echoed
Tormented by knowing too much
Sophia the psychic she met me one day
I looked into her eyes compassion I smiled
Yes, she started, and she could not stop
Against my smile her intermittent sobs
Sophia the psychic centuries echoed
Tormented by knowing too much
‘Tis passion Sophia I asked
Why are you telling me what I already know
Obsession, Sophia, leave the past in peace
Take some rest and do not worry
Sophia the psychic centuries echoed
Tormented by knowing too much
I am centuries old as well but still too young for your tears
And don’t ask for my coins for I have none
All the pearls of wisdom you’ve already gained
There’s no way for you to be repaid
Sophia the psychic centuries echoed
Tormented by knowing too much
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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