Nothing Around Them Makes Any Sense
Just because you wish,
To get your anguish off your chest...
And through bitter lips.
Doesn't mean those over hearing this,
Will give you the attention...
You expect from them to get.
If you closed your mouth,
With an intention to comprehend...
You might discover a lesson or two is learned,
And not from your pocket did it cost you a cent.
There are those who believe,
They are beyond those teachings sent.
And they are the ones constantly complaining...
That nothing around them these days,
Makes to them any sense.
Just because you wish,
To get your anguish off your chest...
And through bitter lips.
Doesn't mean those over hearing this,
Will give you the attention...
You expect from them to get.
If you closed your mouth,
With an intention to comprehend...
You might discover a lesson or two is learned,
And not from your pocket did it cost you a cent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
No One Around Notices
An opened mouth,
Running with nothing learned coming out.
Will be the same mouth,
Running with nothing learned coming out.
Year after year after year.
And...
Can be compared to a leaking faucet...
One promises to get fixed.
But doesn't.
And...
That is more irritating to listen to,
Than the sound coming from a faucet...
Gushing flowing water,
Endangering to flood a floor...
As a sink fills,
For the first time done.
And no one around notices,
Or is paying attention.
But the steady nonsense dripped from one's lips,
Is powerful enough to cause one a headache.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why Didn't You Warn Me?
Sometimes the best lesson to learn,
Is the one that is self taught.
With a discovery that has been enhanced.
Since the effect of it has a permanent existence.
And is better than anything tried,
By another who attempts to teach...
But thought to be unqualified.
'Why didn't you warn me? '
~Let's see...
After standing on my head.
And banging it up against the wall,
To get your attention...
I decided I had enough of it.
How many times did you expect,
For me to waste my breath? ~
'I didn't think you would allow me,
To make a fool of myself like I did.'
~And...
You learned nothing from that lesson? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Uncompromised
A lesson learned makes one grow.
What looks easy to accomplish,
Doesn't make it so.
What becomes one's 'thing'...
To make it come to life.
Does not happen just with thought.
Or reveals itself overnight.
To conquer over fear,
One must come to face it.
Insecurities are chased...
Until they are embraced.
Criticizing the unknown.
Or make attempts to diminish,
What someone finishes that eventually is shown...
Proves that sacrifice and discipline,
With steadfast devotion has grown!
A lesson learned makes one grow.
What looks easy to accomplish,
Doesn't make it so.
Only those in the know,
Show themselves to be uncompromised.
And in time considered to be wise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Impatiently Must Review Lessons
We are human.
And everyone with a taste of experience,
Wishes to have the last word.
And those who seek it,
Get it.
With a lesson for them...
Questioned whether or not,
One has been learned.
Those wanting to comprehend,
Choose to listen.
With understanding as the condition.
Acknowledging a wisdom has been achieved.
Leaving those who get their last word,
Hearing what 'they' say...
And nothing else is perceived.
Some impatiently must review lessons...
Mistakenly thought taught.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Simplistic Is Adorned Beauty
Simplistic is adorned beauty.
And it does not require definition,
To capture the attention it beholds.
No lips can find the words to explain.
Or come together to close...
From a mouth gaped and opened wide.
It is appreciated for what it is,
By those who agree...
This is rare beauty.
And not one walk down the halls of ivy,
Is a prerequisite to comprehend the magnificence of it.
It is as it is to exist.
And followed for as long as it allows.
'OUCH! '
Pillars of concrete are made to uphold foundations.
As you have learned!
However,
They are not easy to walk through.
Nor do they bend with flexibility for those with eyes focused,
Elsewhere!
'My thoughts escaped me momentarily.'
You're kidding?
I'm glad mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was not involved in this!
Are you okay?
You've got a big knot growing on the side of your head.
I think I shall call it, 'The Knot of Knowledge'.
No need to stare at me.
I caution you...
I am aware my light blinds,
If the gaze is held for too long!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pain!
? You say that you have felt pain?
You have no idea what pain is.
Pain is hearing, 'She doesn't
like you anymore.' WHAT?
How can so much pain be caused by
someone who is so small,
so young,
so far?
Yet I tell you, I have felt pain,
pain at hearing your name
mentioned by some ignorant
person, someone who doesn't
know what you have put me
through. Pain? Yes, that is pain.
Pain is knowing that you will
never be mine, though I once would have been
wholly yours. Yours, though
you may never know it. That
also is pain- not being able to
say what I want you to hear.
This and more have you put me
through. This, and also the
torture of hearing from your
own lips- lips that I have longed
for, lips that I have loved in
my own way- that you liked
another guy.? No, I will not
call him a man, for he is not,
or else cannot be, for he loves
you. What? Now you wish to
leave him? And for me, again?
No, I am sorry, love, I cannot
and will not endure your
tortured love again. I have
felt the pain once, and I no
longer have any desire to feel
your pain again. Enjoy it, love.
Pain. Embrace it, rather than me,
for me you will not have, and now
pain is all you have?
poem by Anthony Foote
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Expect More
Expect more,
From yourself...
Before your self respect,
becomes enclosed
Behind shut doors.
Expect more,
Not less.
When your best,
Has been ignored.
Expect more,
Or you'll be next...
Left when your intentions,
Begin to bore.
Expect more,
From those awake.
But the exchange makes them snore.
Expect more,
If a game played becomes too straight.
And you must be that whore!
To gain the attention,
Some express you adore.
Expect more...
From them and yourself to win.
In this life expect more.
Don't accept what is suspected.
Don't throw tantrums and fits...
Just to keep limits explored!
Expect more!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How To Survive Without Riches
First,
We must relax.
And begin to breathe...
Slowly.
In with the new.
And out with the old.
In with the new.
And out with the old.
Remember...
There is only one cycle of breath.
Now...
We are all ready,
To learn a lesson about trust.
Let us all close our eyes...
Gently.
Deep breathe...and,
In with the new.
And out with the old.
In we go...
With the new,
AND...
Removed from us,
Is the old!
In with the...
'Hey?
My watch is gone.'
~Where are my shoes?
My wallet is missing.~
'You said,
We are all going to learn a lesson about trust.
Everything has been taken from us.'
Trust!
Has been a lesson...
A major lesson,
All of you have learned today.
~TRUST?
Everything.
Our valuables have been stolen from us.
That's not trust.
That's THEFT! ~
I disagree.
IN with the NEW.
And OUT with the OLD.
There is nothing crooked about that.
And TRUST?
I think you all have learned that lesson.
DO NOT EVER DO IT!
EVER...
AGAIN!
'What about our valuables?
Our things? '
You have all signed contracts,
Stating you come to me...
For lifestyle changes!
And...
You can admit with assessment,
Everyone here has experienced...
Immediate and rapid change.
Have you not?
I will expect all of you back,
For the next session...
BASIC LIVING!
HOW TO SURVIVE WITHOUT RICHES.
And...
STILL FEEL THE GLOW Of LOVE!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Best To Be Prepared
Just because a mouth is constantly open...
Doesn't mean expectations should be raised,
That anything worthwhile comes out of it.
Would you trust one known to gossip...
With a secret,
You wished not have publicly exist?
Think about it!
Would you rely on someone,
Who has never committed to anything done?
But sit,
To give unsolicited opinions...
As if,
They have knowledge or wisdom you had not witnessed.
When someone like this gives you advice...
Don't be disrespectful by not listening.
Since you never know what is being said...
Will make you think about it more than twice.
Remember...
If you can tolerate BS?
Anything is possible.
Even a confession of ignorance.
I've done it!
And it is refreshing to become 'humblized'!
A process called 'growth' begins.
Just because a mouth is constantly open...
Doesn't mean expectations should be raised,
That anything worthwhile comes out of it.
But then again...
Never lower 'your' expectations,
That something coming out of a mouth like this...
Has not been visited by a thought process.
Connecting one day to make sense!
And you were blessed to have been made a gift of it!
The eyes and ears take over,
When the mouth is closed.
With observation and listening enhanced.
It is best to be prepared...
Anytime, any place, from anyone and anywhere!
Even birds don't fly seeking just a tree to land on.
Nor does wisdom exclusively come from those considered wise!
And 'that' took me a long time to realize,
My depth of comprehension...
Kept adding unto my understanding.
And at times my patience and tolerance I question.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Farm Boy After Summer
A seated statue of himself he seems.
A bronze slowness becomes him. Patently
The page he contemplates he doesn't see.
The lesson, the long lesson, has been summer.
His mind holds summer, as his skin holds sun.
For once the homework, all of it, was done.
What were the crops, where were the fiery fields
Where for so many days so many hours
The sun assaulted him with glittering showers.
Expect a certain absence in his presence.
Expect all winter long a summer scholar,
For scarcely all its snows can cool that color.
poem by Robert Francis
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Lessons In Love
First you cuddle up beside me nice and near
Then you whisper all the things I long to hear
That's the first lessson in love
Mmmm...Give me your heart
Then you put your two sweet lips on mine like this
And you'll learn the magic of a tender kiss
That's the next lesson in love
Mmmm....lesson in love
It's so easy when you know how
O my darling let me show you now
Last you whisper I love you so sweetly
Then I'll know you've learned it all completely
That's the last lesson in love
Mmmm...baby love me true
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For War The Cost Is Great
As well as for World harmony another huge setback
There is one big lesson to be learned from Iraq
Those who invade other Countries a huge price must pay
For war the cost is great tis always been this way.
Yet powerful leaders and their advisors never learn of war history
Beyond their big egos they cannot seem to see
They tell us of freedom yet they themselves are free
Of compassion for others and human empathy.
So many must suffer and die for a war to be won
And in war winners are losers when all is said and done
For how can one be a winner with so many human lives lost
A victory in war does come at a great cost.
And yet we hear more rumors of war every day
Most leaders with great power lack in wisdom twould be fair to say
And in the future will the lesson of Iraq be another lesson in vain
For the lessons of war in the past do remain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Swallowing Something Bitter
involuntarily he swallows something bitter
not perfectly round
definitely bitter
but for now he shall not spit it out
he needs time
perhaps it will be years
he cannot even open his mouth to speak
they call him mute and dumb and deaf
but inside his ears are sharp
his understanding like the seed so bitter
his hope is only that day when by having learned
all the bitterness
he shall spit fire
and magma comes out from his mouth
and rocks
and everything thermoplastic
like he is bomb that shakes all their worlds
into tiny splinters
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chinese Wisdom
In crisis, wisdom growth,
And gained.
Intelligence endowed,
But wisdom is learned.
Wise men listen more,
Talk no nonsense.
Wise men may be learned
But learned men may not be wise.
A silent fool can pass for a wise man.
Silence is golden & wise,
Silence is the trusted friend of wisdom.
It is easy to blame our memory
when our judgment is at fault.
It takes a tree ten years to mature;
It takes a man one hundred years to form.
We grow old fast,
We grow wise slowly.
Youth can look only forward,
but age can also look backward.
Maturity and wisdom
take a lifetime to achieve.
Achieving maturity does not
Grow with age.
Wisdom grows when
Ones learned to avoid the wrongs.
Stand for the rights.
Biggest flaw of ones
Has a lot of flaws and
Not correcting them,
Not avoiding them.
Life is a learning journey
To discover who we are,
Learning as if life is
one continuous lesson.
Wisdom is attained by learning
when to hold one’s tongue.
Discretion is the trusted friend of wisdom.
A wise head must possess a closed mouth.
Compiled & adapted by Lawrence Hiung
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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50 Cent
'I will kill you like a snake',
'I will roast you like a chicken',
'I will fry you like a plantain',
So roll, roll, roll your boat when,
You have a killer gun in your pocket.
I was born in the ghetto,
With the status of poverty without a fish;
I was taught in the ghettto,
With much tears than hope;
I was brought up in the ghetto,
Without the Statue of Liberty to salute;
So roll your boat with the gun in your pocket but,
Who is ther to cover up your actions?
I was taught in a mud-house,
Without slippers on my feet;
That's the kind of society i cam from.
I had my education on the streets with,
Fights, Hunger and Starvation to crown the day;
But your killer gun in your pocket will,
Give you up one day.
Taught by the street lived by the streets,
Learned by the streets and loved by the streets,
Married by the street and of the cluster of a phobia!
But this way was part of my maturity;
That is why i do not respect the gun in your pocket.
Stealing and looting and of the plans to make the move,
But as a Human-Being who lives on 50 Cent a day!
Oh life in the ghetto,
And with the status of poverty without a fish;
But just roll your boat with a merry on your face,
For life to me was just like the mountain of snakes!
Oh life's fair fountain that eluded me,
Stealing and looting and of the plans to make it work always;
But i was just living on 50 Cent a day!
Joy to me was like the roasting of a chicken and,
Hope to me was like the killing of a rabbit;
And of an excellent value for many when one dies,
But peace to me was like the frying of plantains.
We still have leaders ruling us but,
We were still mulling to make a case like a courageous leader;
But to live on 50 Cent a day in the ghetto was all that we have,
And of the cluster of a phobia of things around us!
Life in the ghetto and living on 50 Cent a day,
It was like life on the run with the bullets behind us;
And at times it was like the straw on a camel's back,
With the negativity of life to meet all the time!
Like the golden cup whose shock aroused,
We were just living to survive;
Like half-naked young lovers who called for help,
When one equals to a temper of heroic hearts;
Life in the ghetto,
But all along i do manage with 50 Cent a day!
For the peace of one's mind was with questions all the time.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Cost Of Living
The cost of living is the price we pay
for all those things we need each day
and when calculated over a period of time
works out to a figure that’s likely to climb.
And if our wants go far beyond our needs
we have to get paid well then for our deeds.
But if what we earn can’t match that pace
we’ll have to slow down and not lose face.
Or perhaps consider some additional means
to support what we take on as our routines.
When our lifestyle doesn’t make a hole in our pocket
and the cost of living where we are doesn’t skyrocket
then the rate of inflation there is said to be low
so we can afford to buy those things we know.
----------
poem by George Krokos
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Mindsets Attached To Anguish
It doesn't cost a cent to listen.
Only one's time is invested in comprehension.
And observing the effects of doing neither...
Does nothing to advance humanity.
Or...
Can one with tremendous ego,
Believing...
A reflection of greed is respected,
Convince with a turned up nose...
All is well in the satisfaction department.
People like that are quick to expose,
How they protect their insecurities.
And a display of pretensions do it,
Most of the time.
Those with mindsets attached to anguish...
Are also those most unhappy with their 'things'.
Even though they wish to impress with them,
Little does an ability to acquire the fresh taste of waste...
Create everlasting joy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hoards In Sorrow
If I 'have' whatever it is to give.
And you 'have' but to give not!
Which one of us eventually,
Can claim to have more?
Of whatever it is!
Which one of us has resources,
From which that has been given...
Will always be restored?
And which one of us hoards in sorrow?
Peeking from behind windows.
And through cracks of doors.
Fearing...
And in tears!
I'll give you a clue.
Why are you wiping dust,
Off of past accolades!
And I am happy...
Knowing I have not a cent,
In my pocket!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Never Together Again
I am not like you,
And you are just like that.
How can you demand,
When I've asked from you something?
I don't think I should command.
Or expect respect.
That should be given.
Of that I do not neglect.
And you expect it?
When you neglect it?
I am not like you,
And you are just like that.
I try to be hospitable.
I don't welcome with attacks.
To bite and then regret.
To greet and meet to leave upset.
I am not like you.
I welcome not condescend.
Nor do I solicit attention,
To be focused on me.
Using that as a forum,
To exploit me on the scene.
I am not like you.
I could never be like that.
But I can be quite indignant,
When I learn I've been scandalized...
Behind my back,
By you.
I am not like you,
And you are just like that.
Bitter.
And unable to forgive.
Baiting to become the center of attention.
And using me as the subject,
Of your sorrows.
I am not you,
But you are just like that.
And that is why you and I,
Have no tomorrows...
To await for apologies to soothe.
With alibis and excuses too.
I am not you,
But you are just like that.
And that is why you and I,
Could never experience another forever,
Ever together,
Again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The one lesson I have learned is that there is no substitute for paying attention.
quote by Diane Sawyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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