Over A Crock Of Mixed Soup
If anything in the past,
Was given and meant to be long lasting...
Very few on the receiving end,
Would today be left to complain...
About their feelings of being used,
As they stood by just to take it!
And wherever one goes...
That same story is told as if to convince,
The giving done they did was unconditional.
Until a misunderstanding drifted between two,
With a decision made to split...
Over a crock of mixed soup allowed to burn.
'Perhaps there was too much salt...
And not enough pepper to heat up the spice.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Those of Actions and Less Words
Anyone can make comments,
About feelings meant.
Feelings claimed to have!
But kept in one's mind,
Where that time has been spent!
However...
Those of actions and less words,
Impress with images lasting.
And it is the consistency of their thoughts and deeds...
That keeps one in someone's mind,
As one that can be believed without doubt or question.
Too many people today express in public flair,
How deep their loyalty for another is...
And so profess what is kept,
But not truthfully there to be addressed.
With confessions made to others,
As if this passes a test.
While it is the things done they do...
That disproves a conviction spoken.
And not in their hearts to followed through.
Although dramatized displays are created,
To show how someone by another,
Has been made to become upset.
This is straight from a 101 Beginner's Acting Manual.
And those on the receiving end,
Are not tricked to be fooled by deceptions that begin.
Feelings they have are invested too!
And these feelings for them are protected to defend.
Not tossed about in meaningless conversations.
Conversations to impress but without a depth connected.
Anyone can make comments,
About feelings meant.
Feelings claimed to have!
But kept in one's mind,
Where that time has been spent!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wait Until the Flame Flickers
When the trouble you start goes on...
You're the one who tries to leave it.
When the heat you strike,
Begins to ignite an invited...
Long lasting chance to burn.
And that's what you come to me to get!
A stirring up of an argument.
Yelling and screaming.
To later be together close...
And in nakedness.
You want this inside you,
Deep and thick!
'I don't get it.'
Then you don't need it!
I mean I've got it when you give it.
But when it's given...
'Who are you when that happens?
Where does that 'you' I know go? '
When the trouble you start goes on...
You're the one who tries to leave it.
When the heat you strike,
Begins to ignite an invited...
Long lasting chance to burn.
You wait until the flame flickers.
And the poppin' of it stops.
You wait until the flame flickers.
With a need to cheat to start.
You wait until the flame flickers.
When no heat is meant to be.
You wait until the flame flickers.
And the poppin' of it stops.
You wait until the flame flickers.
With a need to cheat to start.
You waited until the flame flickers.
When no heat is meant to be...
For you from me,
Left here to be used to give.
Now...
Now.
Now...it's gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Long Since Lost
I see you there, all dressed up for the night
I'm thinking about the past and it feels so right
I want to gather my courage and begin to walk
Walk to you; take your hand and just talk
It seems so long since we just spoke
My lungs burn as I inhale the smoke
My nerves dance on flames and so does my heart
How I wish I could take us back to the start
I remember you sleeping in late, your lazy smile
How it was so easy to get you all riled
The little scar that fit you so damn well
All the secrets we would never tell
I recall the time you told me truths
Oh how naive we were in our youth
And when we stood face to face
I felt like I had been caught up in the chase
But now next to you HE stands tall and proud
In a place only I should be allowed!
But I lost you long ago, that I know
And now, watching you, I've fallen so low
poem by Rebecca Pepper
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In Dark Shadows.
the pepper pot
towards the nun
on her right.
The salt follows
once more given
a gentle shove.
To understand
another’s need
without them asking,
an elderly nun
had said.
A nun is reading
from a high desk
in the refectory.
Some book on Cromwell,
a life, back whenever when.
She sips her soup,
the French soup spoon
held in her right hand.
The nun on her left
passes the water jug.
Offers to pour.
Sister Felicity nods
and smiles.
The nun pours
a liberal amount
then puts down the jug.
Opposite an elderly nun
dribbles soup,
her shaky hand
missing the target.
Nan did that.
How can one forget?
She remembers
her grandmother’s
slow decline;
the slippery slope
down to the side ward
in the dank hospital.
Onion soup. Too hot.
She blows to cool.
Sunlight reaches down
through high windows.
Worlds explode
in dark shadows.
poem by Terry Collett
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My African Way Of Life
Today i would like to eat fried plantain and beans,
Tomorrow i will like to eat 'fufu' and palm-nut soup,
Because yesterday i ate 'Kenkey' with fired fish and hot pepper! !
Ha-ha-ha-ha! This is my African way of life over here in Ghana,
And that had made me who i am today with much imaginations to touch the skies.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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If You Would, Please
Pass the salt dear, if you would, please,
I need to put some on these peas.
But not the pepper, now don’t tease,
you know it always makes me sneeze.
The horseradish sauce, is so nice,
it gives the meal a touch of spice.
But too much and you’ll pay the price,
it’ll burn your tongue in just a trice.
The tartare sauce is worth a try,
this is so true, I do not lie.
With luscious fish baked in a pie,
then served with a piquant stir fry.
What about chocolate dessert,
some extra calories won’t hurt.
then more cream, just maybe a squirt,
and watch it doesn’t stain your shirt.
Food of every kind I’ll eat,
I find it all a real treat.
I’m always ready for the sweet,
but slimming is a real feat.
Pass the salt dear, if you would, please,
and some lemon for me to squeeze
into my gin. Slices of cheese
would my sharp hunger pangs appease.
Pass the salt, Walt.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Art 1
from the whole
big and round like a pizza
you only pick a slice
savor and then
describe it
each spice exploding
inside your mouth
salt and pepper
and pineapple bits
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Art of Misunderstanding
Awkward silence, funny situation
Fatal mistake, disaster drama
Cold war, unfortunate tragedy
Misunderstanding could lead an irony
Wrong impression, lack of communication
Ego party, early judgment
Social gap, culture shock
Misunderstanding raise from intolerance
Same purpose, different perception
Same question, different talk
Same fear, different heart
Misunderstanding tests our character
In short period, in long term
The dark past, the uncertain future
Shaking the world, dividing people
Misunderstanding define where we lay our trust
Interesting love plot, mastermind crime
Underlying meaning, uncompleted sentence
Slice of life, sketch of comic
Misunderstanding is a human story
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Today... The Thought of You Disgust Me to Tears
You are just not worthy,
Of my love and loyalty.
You dismiss my attempts,
To be totally devoted...
As something owed.
As if I was born to be attracted to you.
And you,
Happened to have been doing charity work.
With a decision you made to do me a favor.
You are just not worthy,
Of my patience I give with blind tolerance.
Others tried to convince me,
I made it too easy for you to use and abuse...
My inability to stop loving you.
Others tried to convince me,
You did nothing for me but treat me like a fool.
But the fool made in this scenerio is Y-O-U.
And you've proven that is if proud to announce it.
Well...
There is nothing left for you to announce.
No integrity left for you to save.
I use to think of you as being bold and brave.
Honest to a fault and inspiring.
Today...
The thought of you disgust me to tears.
Any picture I have of you,
Sitting high on a pedestal in my mind...
I seek to medicate to have you removed.
Anything to get me to feel I am cleansed.
The thought of ever being near you,
Embraced in a nakedness, exposed to show truth...
Has left me feeling cheap and dirty!
You disgust me to tears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today... The Thought of You Disgust Me to Tears
You are just not worthy,
Of my love and loyalty.
You dismiss my attempts,
To be totally devoted...
As something owed.
As if I was born to be attracted to you.
And you,
Happened to have been doing charity work.
With a decision you made to do me a favor.
You are just not worthy,
Of my patience I give with blind tolerance.
Others tried to convince me,
I made it too easy for you to use and abuse...
My inability to stop loving you.
Others tried to convince me,
You did nothing for me but treat me like a fool.
But the fool made in this scenerio is Y-O-U.
And you've proven that is if proud to announce it.
Well...
There is nothing left for you to announce.
No integrity left for you to save.
I use to think of you as being bold and brave.
Honest to a fault and inspiring.
Today...
The thought of you disgust me to tears.
Any picture I have of you,
Sitting high on a pedestal in my mind...
I seek to medicate to have you removed.
Anything to get me to feel I am cleansed.
The thought of ever being near you,
Embraced in a nakedness, exposed to show truth...
Has left me feeling cheap and dirty!
You disgust me to tears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It Burn
So many things are hidden
A question that has no rhyme
Walking in a circle
Too many things we can't define
Wandering thoughts
Wonder what thet must mean
Mind finds no peace
The whole keeps going, can't be seen
We try to find our way out
There's no escape from a mixed up life
We keep trying to push on
Just gotta let it burn
Let it burn
We gotta keep trying to push on
Let it burn
Existence lined
With diligence it should make sense
So simple it cannot be
So empty it ends up dead
Choking
Seething
We suffocate ourselves in shame
Running from our dreams
We try to find our way out
There's no escape from a mixed up life
We keep trying to push on
Just gotta let it burn
You feel that there's no way out
That there's no refuge for you
You feel that there's no way out
That there's no end in sight
To win you've got to shine
Taste the life inside
No holding back
Past regrets can't breath
If not allowed to seize
A lifetime full of promise
Exquisite painting hides
Mistakes and first drawn lines
The colors that have run
The canvas that has turn dry
Never do
Never cry
These are the words of those
Who never had the guts to try
We try to find our way out
There's no escape from a mixed up life
We keep trying to push on
Just gotta let it burn
Let it burn
We gotta keep trying to push on
Let it burn
Time has a way of forgetting
All the times we took wrong turns
No need to keep on reliving
Ready to burn
Take a chance
Just gotta keep pushing on
No need to keep on reliving
Gotta let it burn
song performed by by Quo Vadis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cloony The Clown
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, 'Go back to bed!'
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, 'I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown.'
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With 'Hah-Hah-Hahs' and 'Hee-Hee-Hees.'
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,'THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.'
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Thoughtdropper
Your drift is Mister Thoughtdropper...
Is to plop a thinking process,
Inside my head!
While agitating with some pepper,
When I prefer the salt instead.
But you're clever adding spice Thoughtdropper.
To stop that over topping knocking pop.
My flow is known to be too heated.
And these thoughts are mine to dropp nonstop.
With a rocking to do I know I've got...
Heat or not and mine to drop.
I've got your drift Thoughtdropper,
Trying to groove on my rock.
Don't try to knock me with a stopping,
'Cause my heat is hot.
I've got your drift Thoughtdropper,
Trying to groove on my rock.
Don't try to knock me with a stopping,
'Cause my heat is hot.
I've got your drift Thoughtdropper,
Trying to groove on my rock.
I've got your drift Thoughtdropper.
Thoughtdropper.
Thoughtdrop per trying to groove on my rock.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Giving Innocence
You created the fences.
And constructed the walls.
You put up all of your defenses,
While in the midst of conflicts...
And initiating those brawls.
In the past when you bullied it seemed much fun.
You undermined many and you saw some run.
You picked your enemies with a consciousness done.
And now you want to sit to complain about it.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
In the past when you bullied it seemed much fun.
You undermined many and you saw some run.
You picked your enemies with a consciousness done.
And now you want to sit to complain about it.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
You created the fences.
And constructed the walls.
You put up all of your defenses,
While in the midst of conflicts...
And those brawls.
In the past when you bullied it seemed much fun.
You undermined many and you saw some run.
You picked your enemies with a consciousness done.
And now you want to sit to complain about it.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
As if you were the innocent one in the mix.
You caused the riffs and conflicts.
Giving innocence.
You caused the riffs and conflicts.
Giving innocence.
You caused the riffs and conflicts.
Giving innocence.
And nothing innocent about it you can convince.
You caused the riffs and conflicts.
Giving innocence.
You caused the riffs and conflicts.
Giving innocence.
You caused the riffs and conflicts.
Giving innocence.
And nothing innocent about it you can convince.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Burn All The Letters
I am sorry that I set my sights
On the things I read
Something meant for your husband
Maybe you left it under the bed
Once upon a love those words blew free and secret
The pages lay around
Drifted to the hands of the publisher
And the greedy generations on down
Burn all the letters
(someone is always watching)
The governments on the phone
(whether openly or secretly)
Burn all the letters
(now breathe life)
Send them on
(into your story)
To a safer home
(I said burn it to secrecy)
Burn all the letters
Brand them in you before you go
Soldiers are coming to plunder
But there are some things they will never know
We made our love out of dignity
Dug our nails in the dirt
(hung our towel soaked souls out on the line)
Hung our towel soaked souls out on the line
We loved so hard that it hurt
To ease my pain I took a pen and paper
Incarnate came the bleeding
Send it back before the public eye
Perverts it in the reading
And burn all the letters
(someone is always watching)
Ah the governments on the phone
(whether openly or secretly)
Burn all the letters
(now breathe life)
Send them on back
(into your story)
To a safer home
(I said burn it to secrecy)
Burn all the letters
Brand them in you before you go
The soldiers coming to plunder
But there are some things they will never know
Burn all the letters
Ah the governments on the phone
On the phone
Burn all the letters
(all the letters)
Send them on to a safer home
(send them on to a safer home)
Burn all the letters
To you
And you to
To me
Coming to take what they can
They cannot read
What they cannot see
Mmm
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beliefs And Perceptions
The beliefs and perceptions one has,
Of them to hold unchanging in their minds...
Are nearly the same thing.
And as concrete as a decision made,
By anyone who spends hours at a mall...
Window shopping knowing exactly,
What it is they want if seen to convince.
If only they were not rushed,
Through the process by someone...
Making threats to leave them abandoned,
If they didn't hurry up to purchase 'anything'...
With a commitment and soon!
Totally misunderstanding that 'image' one seeks,
To see, to satisfy, then to buy and sell and to flaunt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ambitious Outsider
Bolt-lock your doors
alarm your cars
and still we move in closer
every day
Top of the list
is your smiling kids
but we'll be smiling too
so that's OK
oh, and by the way
thank you, because you're
giving, giving, giving
and we're receiving -
No, no, we're taking
keeping the population down
Your taxes paid, but
police waylaid
and we knows
when the school bus
comes and goes
We're on your street, but
you don't see us
or, if you do
you smile and say Hello
BUT DON'T UNDERESTIMATE US
when you are
giving, giving, giving
and we're receiving -
No, no, we're taking
we're just keeping
the population down
Giving, giving, giving
well, it's your own fault
for reproducing
We're just keeping
the population down
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A True Friend
A true friend,
Needs not to express a depth felt.
Nor does a true friend,
Try to hide their intentions.
Or seek to convince others,
Of their personal feelings meant.
Or would consider with others,
A lamenting of what a 'true' friend...
Has done to them with a gaining of an empathy.
A true friend will be there,
Sharing regardless of the circumstances...
That comes between them to prevent misunderstanding.
A true friend does not question,
An honesty that has been presented from the beginning.
A true friend says it like it is...
Without threating a friendship that diminishes and ends.
With a moving away from any consideration of a forgiving,
To forget what should not have made one upset.
When an investment proves not to be beneficial,
Why continue making deposits to get familiar results?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Cook
They had a cook with them who stood alone
For boiling chicken with a marrow-bone,
Sharp flavouring powder and a spice for savour.
He could distinguish London ale by flavour,
And he could roast and boil and seethe and fry,
Make good thick soup and bake a tasty pie...
As for blancmange, he made it with the best.
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Here To Perform Tasks Then Leave
It is there within us,
Left safe...
And kept protected.
All of our fears we do not admit,
There is 'something' in the mix...
That does not satisfy what we get.
'What about 'me'?
Are my feelings not legitimate?
Why aren't they perceived? '
And yet,
With all there is from us to give...
Many live to know of this.
There is a feeling of dismissal.
And this is lived with acknowledgement.
We must live and trust,
That a power far greater than us...
Knows our deeds.
And we believe this 'power' relieves,
With an erasing done of a grief...
We did not originate to initiate,
Those feelings of distrust received.
And yet,
We spend our lives regretting...
A sacrifice we do that comes to upset,
Those unappreciated efforts made...
Gone unrespected and left to go undetected,
By those we feel are close to our hearts.
Not all,
But many feel they are not benefactors...
Of what they know to be,
An unconditional love that is given.
And received by others as if from the giver,
This to them is meant to be a special delivery!
'What about 'me'?
I am not living ungrateful or selfishly.
What about me,
We ask.
Am I here just to perform tasks,
Then leave?
What about me? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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