En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Pendulum

The asylum now has reopened for tours.
Renovated with new padding.
With personalized doors...
To reduce confusion.
And to highlight the colors...
On the coded carpeted floors.

Each cell has fresh paint.
In pastels of rose and lime.
And the ceilings of sky blue...
Allow the clients,
To stare clear through.
With imaginations fixed...
Only if they choose.

Medicated and sedated...
To keep delusions fresh.
And soothing music to calm the nerves.
To assist a reality...
Quietly put to death.

And these 'refugees'
Are quite different from the ones...
Proclaimed to have once lived in New Orleans.
A pendulum...
Has completed its swing!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choose Your Color

I will paint the walls blue
Blue is calm, blue is power
Blue is the color of tranquility
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the ceiling green
Green is healthy, green is peace
Green makes time move faster
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the floor red
Red is fire, red is danger
Red is the symbol of passion
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the sky purple
Purple is sad, purple is gloomy
Purple is the color of romance
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the tree black
Black is fear, black is death
Black is the symbol of grief
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the street yellow
Yellow is happy, yellow is fresh
Yellow is the color of sunshine
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the fence orange
orange is wisdom, orange is wealth
Orange is the color of success
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint everything white
White is good, white is pure
White is the color of faith
Have you seen my colors yet?

(August 16th,2006)

poem by Christopher G. Turner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bucket Duties

It amazes.
The power of denial.
Some would rather dump buckets of it,
Away on a daily basis.
Than to confront its origin.

Instead,
There are conferences held....
For the purposes to debate,
The longevity of reality.
And how best it can be combated.
To defend the prolonging of delusions.

As utterances of a guaranteed victory,
Is leaked.
To calm the nerves of those,
In between their bucket duties.
And assignments to find fresh excuses.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Their Point Of View

There will always be those who choose to see life,
From their point of view.
And not necessarily from their own experiences.
As many feeling entitled excuse themselves to do.

There will always be those who choose to see life,
And the struggles others endure...
From movies, widening TV screens,
Or binoculars used as they peer from behind trees...
To validate a faking of a wisdom often to be argued,
With the ones who have received their completed lessons...
Taught fresh from the trenches to prove with wounds,
They did not sit to observe someone else fighting their battles.

There will always be those who choose to see life,
From their point of view.
And not necessarily from their own experiences, either!
As many feeling entitled excuse themselves to do.

And others will volunteer as a sacrifice to feel as a duty,
To assist in securing freedoms for all as promised.
With a few who will come to assist in providing comfort,
Or express an appreciation and with respect...
To the ones who will always associate life,
With a feeling of mental and physical pain for their efforts.
And this is the view many refuse to acknowledge.
Since to do it they will have to admit a reality exists.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swing High, Sweet Child.

When you awake,
Do you smell the fresh air?
When you arise,
Do you rejoice your sacred life?

Nature's tree,
Standing tall, looking in a fixed stare,
Nature's wind,
Cutting away, sharp as an blood stained knife,

Swing high sweet child,
The Earth is here forever,
Swing low little darling,
Watch as the branchs sway,

Nature's sea,
Will seize to be drained,
Nature's Rock,
Rejoices in a sweet symphonic praise

When you die,
Will you miss the fresh air?
When you fall,
Will you forget the true beauty of life?

Nature's tree,
Will continue to stand and stare,
Nature's wind,
Will continue cutting, this time a clean knife.

poem by Nate Orvis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fresh Endeavour

So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.

I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Key Lime Pie

Ocean breeze, tire swing
Coconut fall if you shake that thing
And my, my, my - my key lime pie
Not too tart, not too sweet
My baby loves to watch me eat
Her key lime pie
Her key lime pie
Tall green tree, yellow bird
Bikini bottom and a tie-dyed shirt
And my, my, my - my key lime pie
Big white sail, red sunset
Lobster tail and don't forget
My, my, my - my key lime pie
A six string, ten shots
Of Cruzan rum, hey, I like it a lot
With my, my, my - my key lime pie
Tortola, a full moon
Shining down on a blue lagoon
And my, my, my - my key lime pie
Not too tart, not too sweet
My baby loves to watch me eat
Her key lime pie
Her key lime pie
We got Ginger and Mary Ann
Cookin' up a real good tan
And my, my, my - my key lime pie
Key lime pie, key lime pie
Key lime pie, my my my
My, my, my key lime pie
Key lime pie, key lime pie

song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swing! Swing!

Come on baby let's swing,
it's Sunday with bring bring,
feelings of o key, and refreshing,
twisting our body, and dancing.

just swing like this,
and swing like that.

forget your stress even once,
reduce your worries and dance,
gather your strength to break a fance,
come on baby it's our chance.

swing to avoid confusion,
swing to rebuild your brain,
swing for your creation,
just swing for your talent.

for a week your working,
with much concentration,
stop that for enjoying,
let's dance for the medicine.

i say swing swing swing
come on and swing swing

poem by Dickson Mseti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Within The Moment

A thousand lonely nightmares breed
Creatures of the wildest greed
Leaving me here bleeding, not knowing what I need.

An empty hearse rolls on by the window of my asylum
Fresh death is calling them to seek
Old shapes re arrange themselves in liquid motions
Old wounds have broken upon the surface of emotion

Rise

One within the moment
One within the movement

I’m loosing my faith
I’m loosing my face
Help me, I beg of you
Help be paint a brighter blue
This sky of fading grey

Help me, I beg of you
Help me find the words to say
In expression of the feeling
In recollection of the memory
Help me, I beg of you

I need you, feed me
Feed my fantasy.
Help me, I beg of you
Help me to heal
And you shall find asylum in my eyes.
Tell me, is this hell reality?
It won’t come as a surprise.

My head is spinning
My heart is singing
Hymns alongside heavens choir
Where is my halo
Where are my wings?
What is the hour?

I'll catch you when I do.
And when I do I'll love you

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Fresh If Kept, Cool

It is fresh if kept,
Away from that which spoils...
Those attitudes,
Quicken to darken by a mood.

It's fresh if kept,
Together without salt.
And a peppered tongue,
Spiced with words from a mouth to come out!

It is fresh if kept,
Away from evil people.
A mind that finds,
A peace inside...
Found from nine to five!
And from...
Five to nine!

It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.

It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.

It is fresh if kept,
Away from evil people.
A mind that finds,
A peace inside...
Found from nine to five!
And...
Five to nine!

Evil will have those you love dearly,
Convinced...
You are not who you are!

It is fresh if kept,
Away from that which spoils...
Those attitudes,
Quicken to darken by a mood.

It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.

Choose not to be annoyed.

It is fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.

Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.

Keep your mind kept fresh.

Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.

It is fresh if kept,
Cool.

Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.

Keep your mind kept fresh,
And cool.
Keep your mind kept fresh.
And away from fools.
Keep your mind kept fresh,
And cool.

It's best not to be annoyed.
It's best not to be destroyed!

Evil will have those you love dearly,
Convinced...
You are not who you are!
It is best to keep cool.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Swing

Its the swing
Its the swing like a pendulum
It marks the moments as the years go by in an innocent phase
The swing into never-neverland
There was a darkness like an old friend
That scratched and crawled up the wall
Into my life
Into my destiny
Into my desire
Its the swing
Its the swing like a pendulum
So look behind you when the race has run
And the winner is named
The swing into never-neverland
There was a darkness like an old friend
That scratched and crawled up the wall
Into my life
Well its the swing
The swing like a pendulum
Between the pieces and between the lines
Leaving nothing to hide

song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scents... ' (or) Tea - Baby

S
C
E
N
T
S
I So, Love The Scent, of A Fresh, Cup Of Tea
Like, I Love The Smell, of A Fresh-Bathed Baby
Both, Are So Very Delicate, Soothing & Sweet
Both, Are A Unique, Fragile-Moment Complete
And With Rose Petals and Soft Lavender Scents
And Apple-Blossoms, Honey and Fresh Peppermint
All Come In Lotions Or Talc-Powder For Baby
And In My Teacup, These Aromas Are Tasty
I So Love The Scent of Steeped-Leaf Tea
And A Fresh-Bathed, Gurgling Baby
Come, Sip A Cup of Tea With Me
While I Hold & Sniff The Baby

poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fresh Cock

No one exploited the evening.
No one dared to declare
The host as boring
As any snoring conversation can get.
Even the hors d'oeuvres seemed to beg for escape.
Faster than the 'help' could deliver them.
They were deliciously placed...
On silver platters that held homemade doilies!
And dipped to taste in minted sauce.
The better half of 'Mister Excitement' had made.
Even the chambermaids made an appearance,
To check for life by feather dusting!
And this was to be the highlight,
Until some drunkened and delusional socialite exclaimed...
'May I have a fresh cock here please! '
And all the men rushed to her aid.
As the butler squeezed a bit of lime to deliver,
To this minx!
'As you like, madam!
One fresh...cocktail.'
And she sipped and wiggled her way through,
Stiffened embarrassments!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Asylum

My tears are blue,
My eyes, Purple, green and black-
Yours, I do not know the color of-
I may have met you before in some dark alley-
Your eyes are shut as you sleep- You, I do not know.
All eyes are upon me now- Orange, blue and yellow-
The sky is green and clouds are maudlin-
Blood falls from eyes of sorcerers,
Tears, blue as deep sea water- falling from my eyes,
My eyes are purple, green and black.
Trapped inside a place unknown-
Unknown to my spirit's heaven-
Locked inside this devil's paradise- I cannot fathom reality.
I weep blue tears, combining with the blood
Pouring from the ceiling so dank and dark-
Turning purple and magenta, in hue-
Your lips are red- red as rage,
My hair is dark and dark as is Satan's advocate's
Please somebody rescue me!
My tears are blue, my eyes,
Purple, green and black- the color of yours
Still remains a mystery- When shall you awaken?
Only in good time, my friend, only in good time-
The face of the clock on the wall is orange - Its hands lost in space-
I am lost and beside myself- while you sleep-
We are locked inside of an asylum- I heard-
You are sleeping, still as the locked door before us-
I wonder, are you dreaming or are your dreams turning to nightmares-?
My ears are ringing, I am blue- they just told me through the keyhole that
I am locked inside the world of my delusions?
Through your eyes I could read your thoughts but
Your eyes are closed as you sleep- and my eyes, are closed to the world.
Colors and more colors before me, my tears are blue,
I am blue-please release me from my pain.
I know I have been told in time I will be but the clock upon the wall
Has no feelings-just decorating this chamber of hell with
Its bright orange face as my blue tears fall
Onto the urine stained floors of this confinement-
My soul dissolves into nothingness, while blood drips from the ceiling-and
I wonder- do they make keys that unlock minds from the cells of their delusions?
Somebody just painted my world black and I am doomed to be trapped here
Forever…

poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Fresh Are These Days of Awareness That Come

Fresh are these days of awareness.
The spicing done to fantasies,
Seem totally ridiculous.
Escaping exits to explore escapades...
Are closing down in minds,
For those who had found themselves entwined!

Oh,
So fresh are these days of awareness that come.
A stinging stung that's felt,
Nearly by everyone.

And those who sing the blues,
Had other choices...
But they refused.
Deciding to keep their minds completely fixed.
To a way of life,
With standards and values today quickly nixed.
Wishing now they had kept things simple.
But consumed they are with bitterness.
With others like them...
Who have been deceived and tricked!

Oh,
So fresh are these days of awareness that come.
A stinging stung that's felt,
Nearly by everyone.
The spicing done to fantasies,
Seem totally ridiculous.
Escaping exits to explore escapades...
Are closing down in minds,
For those who had found themselves entwined!

And a whistling is heard!
Coming from those who kept their eyes opened.
Observing reality for what it is!

Now they watch those disturbed.
Those who sit stubbornly...
With hopes their delusions maintained,
Will someday again...
With the aid of false prayer,
By them who dare...
To display a sudden faith.
Be served to end the reality of their heartache.

But where were they...
When the earth began to shake?
To awaken those from their sleep.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fresh Interlude

Yo yo, this wyclef, alongside dj skribble (for the ladies)
Yo skribble I have one question
Could you please answer this for me?
I gotta know this yo
What makes a dj *cut and scratched fresh*
What makes an mc *cut and scratch fresh*
What makes the refugees *scratch fresh*
Why are kids getting jealous?
Cause we f, r, e, s, h
Fresh, fresh, fresh, thats, fresh!
F, r, e, s, h
Fresh, fresh, fresh, thats, fresh!
Hey you, player, with the dibble and the dabble
You wanna battle who? wyclef or dj skribble
Hold the stickup its a freestyle session
Skribble where you from man *scratched long island*
Well Im from haiti, then brooklyn, then jersey
With a universal tag, plus I got *scratched money in the bag*
You slept on this musician, plus the hip-hop art
Bring your best mcs *scratched what? *
Cause every man got disciples if you ever want a rival
Show up, with a mic, and a rifle
Wyclef stuck the bank at mid-day
And took all of sony money, in a black van he got away
I just got a call from tommy mottola
He said forget about it oh my word
So I held john agrassia, at gunpoint
Hes shook, callin donny aiena, while smokin a joint
I said, whos the informer? they say, michael malden
I had to take him out three the hard way!
The moral of this story dont blame the record company
If your record aint selling you lack creativity
But what you want me to say? what what you want me to say huh?
Yo Ive been trying to get a deal for, years and it aint
What you want me to say?
*cut and scratched hehehehehehe*
*cut and scratched ju-ju-just shut up*
*cut and scratched bite it!*
*mix the above three*
And Ill kill anyone, who dares to go against me!

song performed by by Wyclef Jean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winds Blow Those Lows To Go

I want to choose my element,
As music.
And select you to be,
Within each lyric that's composed.

I feel you destined to reach clear highs.
After riding wild on those lows.
Refusing to look up,
At a cloudless sky...
Without clouding shadows.

I want to choose my element,
As music.
And select you to be,
Within each lyric that's composed.

I feel the light sparkle as you dance.
Romancing to enhance the environment.
As if you have kicked up gold dust,
To paint my dreary bouts...
In accepting rays of Sunshine.

I want to choose my element,
As music.
I do.
The chemistry would be so harmonic.
With melodies to skip in lush green meadows.

I want to choose my element,
As music.
And select you to be,
Within each lyric that's composed.

I feel you destined to reach clear highs.
After riding wild on those lows.
And those,
Sentimantal memories...
Your mind stays fixed to fill
With hopeful wishes to recapture.

I want to choose my element,
As music.
And select you to be,
Within each lyric that's composed.

I feel you destined to reach clear highs.
After riding wild on those lows.

Winds blow those lows...
To go!

Winds blow those lows...
To go!
To go!

Winds blow those lows...

To go!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rapid Is The Information

Rapid is the information.
Too much perhaps,
But the facts are clear...
It is here.

Blurring the minds and fixed visions,
With such speed and precision.
And fearing are those who can not keep up.
With down on their luck blues to sing.
And nerves quickly plucked,
By their own closed and shut inhabitions!

Listening to tired conversations,
Wishing to manifest a redigesting...
Of yesterdays gone,
Is sad to witness and observe...
Such listlessness gone undisturbed,
By a jolt of motivation.
Or something that provokes slow pokes,
To ignite with urgency.

Was that served and deserved?
With an intent to have many feed their gut,
With gluttony.
And not their minds to fine tune,
With the times?

Rapid is the information.
Too much perhaps,
But the facts are clear...
It is here.
Leaving that and those 'tomorrows',
Far behind!
Faster than the batting of an eyelash!
And...
With the thoughts of them,
Easier to put off...'then'!
With the best of procrastination skills,
Many have adopted as professions.

But the facts are clear...
Whatever is here and experienced right now,
Is on the move.
It has 'already' gone!
And anyone desiring to torment themselves,
Because of it...
Will find they are not alone!

Others also made decisions to deny their dreams!
With hopes that tomorrow would do for them,
What today did not...
Do for them!

And just like all of those yesterdays they 'lived'...
Moaning and groaning,
To find excuses not to do it!
And to find that just as rewarding,
As the discovery of fresh complaints...
Is a waste of time to address.
These folks...
Are not the 'Oh! -I've-got-it-now' kind.

Rapid is the information.
Too much perhaps,
But the facts are clear...
It is here.
To distribute to those who receive it.
And not here to give attention,
To those who don't!
And THAT is 'thee' reality!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You’re in another country called Cape Town

I peer at a city
while the rain is pouring down
and see blue-white thunder
falling from the sky
while dark clouds are milling up high
blown by storm winds
and the smell of rain
rises fresh from the earth
and my thoughts loiter
and I know where I am
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.

Below me I see the zoo
and a city stretched out
in clear squares,
great buildings among statues
and gardens,
and on a hill
the sacred place of a nation
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.

The houses in the suburb
are build for the summer heat
with verandas and big rooms,
with yellowwood floors,
with fans in the ceilings
and yards as big as parks
and trees with purple blue blossoms
lining every street
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.

I hear a crowd roaring
in the stadium near to the university
for their rugby team to win
and everywhere blue flags are waving
and some faces are painted blue
and some heads have caps
with horns thrusting into the air
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.

On the other side of the mountain
avocado and some tropical trees grow
and here I stand in the hero’s acre
among the fallen great
and to Andries Pretorius
I offer my salute
and in church square
my eyes stare
at the statue of uncle Paul
who still faces north
now turning green
and you’re in another country called Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.

[Reference: To -. Composed at Rotterdam by Thomas Hood.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Painter’s Agony

I want to paint that river
And the scene behind it
The boat and the boatmen
I know everything about
That river

My association with the river
Many a hundred memories
Evenings and sunshines
Floods and slow water
I have lived my life
On the bank of that river
I want to paint
Paint it with the most beautiful colors
I want to borrow some colors
From the colors of paradise

And I love the town
That lives beside the river
Old and dusty
Where shall I take you
In that small town
Every nook and corner
Shall tell you that it knows me
I want to paint that town
In colors of heaven
I want to carry a few children
And take them on a tour
I want to see the town with their eyes
And then go to the riverbank
And meditate for a while
Drink the wine of nature
And get lost into the world of beauty
And flow with the river

Enter every house
My heart throbs in harmony
With every heart in the town
Give me colors divine
Colors from the other world
For I want to paint
That river and that town
(This poem is about a small town on the bank of river Indus)

poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choose To Fly

Choose to fly!
Choose to soar...
Above the clouds,
And touch the sky.
Choose to spread your wings.
And with praises choose to sing...
To end limitations.
And what to you those limits bring.
Choose to fly.
Energize with the Sun.
Have fun.
Begin what is wished.
Do not undo that which has begun.
Choose to fly.
Look up.
Around and down!
Can accustomed conflict mixed with confusion...
Be heard from anyone?
Can it be found?
As you lift your disconnectedness,
Higher off the ground?
Can you feel a peace?
As you release...
From tensions that decrease.
Choose to fly.
Let go of that madness...
Grabbing to entrap.
To have you slapped with unhappiness.
Choose to fly.
Declare your fresh air...
Is absent of dispair.
And all boundaries have cleared for your arrival.
Choose to fly!
Choose to soar...
Above the clouds,
And touch the sky.
Let go...
And take hold of the atmosphere there.
Choose to fly.
Choose to soar.
Choose to live the life you adore,
Even more!
Choose to fly.
And break free to live your dreams.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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