People Once Sought
Conversations have lost comforts,
Of mutual exchange.
Forced engagements now depend,
On premeditated thoughts...
Once enjoyed but now has ended.
And abandoned curiousities
Seemed to have peaked and shallowed.
But no one dares to admit something is missing.
People once sought to share conversations...
Are finding their presence disapproved!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Doing Duties Despite The Heavy Heart
usually two people
detesting each other's presence
do not speak
conversations are
painful
sometimes it is forced
out of civility
poor man he opens his hands
from his fists
turning into fragile fingers
but then the ants of the world
in their usual silence
demonstrate to you
an interdependence
the empire must live
do your duty
lest others still soft
and weak
shall die
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I tell my friends about my conversations with my father - conversations with an artist.
quote by Ray Conniff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Love But They Were Never Loved In Return
and there they are
inside the room of beauty
and lonely conversations
they roam the world
unable to learn the art of permanence
the lessons
of staying in one place and be sober
they love that much
and give themselves all in the name of love
yet they are never loved
in return
the reason why they go from one place to another
like gypsies
looking for love on dark nights till dawn
till the weary morning
till noonday
and till the night comes again
howling and teasing them
loving so loving
and yet so unloved
it is nature's curse
a spell not broken till the end
and so i see them in this room of beauty
and lonely conversations
they cut my hair and clean me
with powder and their brushes
until the floor is filled
with what i am shedding off
and then i leave them again
and visit them
as often as i feel dirty
and unshaven
missing the lonely conversations
the hush of loves always unrequited
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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They Show Up In Droves At Funerals
I know of a place,
Where people know others
By what has been told to them.
People will say, 'Oh, I know 'them'.
I heard this and that! '
And they have had not one convesation at all.
Not with that person.
Even those related...
However they are related.
'See' each other their entire lives...
And know absolutely nothing about the other.
However...
They show up in droves at funerals.
To make pointless conversations.
And roll their eyes at those...
Because someone said they said something,
About someone else.
And they had the 'nerve' to appear to pay
Their respects!
These places exist.
Without conversations being shared,
By either the ones who have departed...
Or,
By those standing in line to feed themselves...
During the repast!
Some will take food to go.
As if at a fast food restaurant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Monotonous Monologues
Dead space traced to boredom.
And conversations with it,
Exchange this afterall.
Monotonous monologues,
Beating into the ground
With prolonged redundancy.
Make sense for many not to listen.
Or choose to fall to sleep.
Why do some people,
Keep repeating their limited philosophies?
It makes it pointless to disagree.
This fuels a uselessness that is abused...
And purposely used for one to be contrary.
With more than a bit,
Of surfaced contradiction added to the mix.
And a dipping of bait that is solicited with it.
Monotonous monologues,
Beating into the ground
With prolonged redundancy.
Make sense for many not to listen.
Or choose to fall to sleep.
Dead space traced to boredom.
And conversations with it,
Exchange this afterall.
As a drifting consciousness...
Shifts quickly into a daydream fix!
Assisted by a continuous drone.
That takes a place,
As a sound in the background.
To eventually go unknown.
'Excuse me? EXCUSE ME!
No need to look around!
Yes...
I am speaking to you.
I'd like to have everyone's 'full' attention,
Please?
Thank you!
Now...
As I was saying...'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Difference Does That Make?
What can anyone say to another,
When opportunities to have meaningful conversations...
Have been skipped to compare one's appearance,
To relatives, neighbors, pets and meaningless nonsense.
People have done this,
And for years make claims what they know.
When in actuality they know not a thing.
Not about the people they talk about or the surroundings.
And these are the folks who are expressing disbelief.
Whether it is about something done or what has been achieved,
Right next door.
Or the kind of lifestyle a relative lives and not one perceived.
There are people who have complete conversations,
Discussing other people they have yet to meet.
And when they see them in the streets they give them attitude.
Without one word ever shared or a hand extended to greet.
What can anyone say to another,
When opportunities to have meaningful conversations...
Have been skipped to compare one's appearance,
To relatives, neighbors, pets and meaningless nonsense.
'Hello.
I'd like to introduce myself...
Since no one else has done it.
And I don't want to be like them.
I'd like to establish a process,
That has a start that progesses to a middle...
And grows to produce positivity that never ends.'
~You know I know you.
Stop playing around.~
'What's my real name?
Not my nickname.'
~What difference does that make?
We still gon' be related.
What's your real name anyway?
I never knew that.~
'And you say you know me?
How? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of witnesses.
quote by Margaret Millar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of a witness.
quote by Margaret Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Defending my Insanity
I’ve had conversations with the rain
Both night and day we talk
It told me how things will be
When I’m sitting naked in the rain
Nothing feels the same
The people that see me whisper
“he must be insane just sitting there
naked in the rain”
But what does anybody else know?
I ask my weather friend
I ask the rain advice
Some direction for this life
And I listen…
It answers without reply
So get dressed and go inside
I’ve had conversations with the rain
It chooses not to speak to me
But I’ll talk with it again
poem by Nicolas 'Kokonutz' Kokonas
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If Nixon is not forced to turn over tapes of his conversations with the ring of men who were conversing on their violations of the law, then liberty will soon be dead in this nation.
quote by Earl Warren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Enjoyed and Invited
We are not in those times anymore.
When people would choose others,
For their own ignorance...
Unstopped and revolving,
Through the same turnstiles...
To explore and bore.
More people are awakening,
To what time 'today' is.
With less of them wasting it,
To let go and live.
The ones who found gossip,
Whispered from ear to ear.
Find it almost impossible...
To ignite any intrerest,
With someone equally inquisitive.
We are not in those times,
Anymore.
When people would choose others,
For their own ignorance...
To Explore increasing boredom.
And more and more,
People are re-evaluating values.
Finding it difficult,
To do as they choose...
And have others listen too!
Once enjoyed and invited,
People seem today quicker to admit...
A deeper meaning sought,
Than the routine of nonsense...
That finds them sick of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conversations Can Be Quite Delicious!
More should experience,
Having their thoughts brought out...
To enjoy the freshness of open air.
Instead of keeping them confined,
Within minds,
To have them go unshared.
Exchanging ideas and perceptions of life,
Can increase one's excitement.
With a revelation of something...
That might entice and invite one's knowledge.
And discovered as another's...
Appetite needing more spice that's liked!
Conversations can be quite delicious!
More should experience,
Having their thoughts brought out...
To enjoy the freshness of open air.
Instead of keeping them confined,
Within minds,
To have them go unshared.
Conversations can be quite delicious!
Exchanging ideas and perceptions of life,
Can increase one's excitement.
With a revelation of something...
That might entice and invite one's knowledge.
And discovered as another's...
Appetite needing more spice that's liked!
Conversations...
Can be quite,
Delicious!
Especially those that are right,
With a tasty bite that is invited to linger.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Talks With The Dead
He converses too often
with the dead. The talks
Remembered, taken in
Deep the words said.
He sorts through afterwards
The conversations, what
Was said by who to whom,
And how was said. And as
He spoke took in the eyes
Of those speaking, the open
Happiness there, the lack
Of worries, absence of fear
Of their mortality, being there
In that other place, just a finger
Tip, a cool breath’s feel away.
He sees them, they pass by,
Time of no concern, no pressures
For them anymore, just the talking,
Soft conversations with those
Who have moved on, those who
Felt death’s kiss and touch over much.
poem by Terry Collett
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Missing You
Missing you
( rick giles / susan longacre 9
I live for the phone I die for the mail
I took your picture right off the nail
And put it right by my bed
So I could see you instead
Of the darkness of night
I hold conversations with you in my mind
They only tighten this knot deep inside
And the aching won't end
'til I hold you again
If I only suvive
Chorus:
Why did you have to go
Why am I missing you so
One heartbeat at a time
I'm going out of my mind
Missing you, missing you.
I started a letter, I stared at your name
There wasn't a line that didn't echo my pain
There was no sound at all
But the slow lonely fall
Of an unspoken tear
Chorus
Life may take us in different directions
But I always end up deeper, deeper in my true affection
Chorus
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Within Cliques of Gossips
There are those programmed and convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
But when asked, none had close talks...
With the one claimed known.
And the one claimed known...
Had not a clue as to what was going on.
Other than the usual assumptions that take place,
Within cliques of gossips.
There are those who have created,
Lifestyles of others in their minds.
With sexual preferences believed known discussed.
With the goings on in the privacy of their homes,
And with whom they lust.
There are those programmed and self convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
Until they got the opportunity to meet them.
And then became quite upset...
That those they met,
Were quite different...
Than the people they had kept in their minds.
Only to find themselves,
Living too confined and behind fast times.
To leave a narrow perception of life,
Left to go unaddressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conversations (AKA Unfinished Business)
Conversations through the phone
raises issues that still impact
on indigenous Australians. There
is also a message of hope!
Imagination, creativity, art, dance,
music, and inventive conversations.
Positive expressions of Indigenous
survival.
Mr Prime Minister, The Mayor,
young folk, warriors without
treaties, the wider community . . .
The message as always,
even though we smile.
Land Rights, sovereignty, no more
crap, ignorance and unabated racism.
poem by Lisa Bellear
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Funny Conversations
Sitting in Barnes and Noble I overhear,
“That’s nothing my dear,
My mother, father and sister died in the same year.
and I never really tell anyone this,
so don’t look like such a mess.”
Now, this sounds like a tragedy,
I laughed to myself is more like a comedy.
It was like an over exaggeration,
why would a lady say it so loud,
for this kind of situation.
Sitting in McDonalds I over hear an idiom,
“He doesn’t have a pot to piss in,
or a window to throw it out of”
I laughed to myself for I never heard the last phrase,
It was so funny it made my day.
Now you can hear funny conversations everywhere,
if you care to listen and be aware…
of the funny things that people do say,
their conversations might brighten your day.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 21,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Thoughts That Remain
Deeply missed,
Are those once close to me.
Parents, friends...
And blood relatives,
I would often see...
In dreams,
As I did sleep.
It is as if,
They are not deceased at all.
As we would laugh and joke...
Like regular folks.
Until I would awaken...
To the arrival of dawn and chirping bird calls.
Deeply missed,
Are conversations wished.
And as each season comes to fade away...
I feel within me their presence so familiar.
With thoughts that remain,
In my mind where their faces and appearances stay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Glad I Am to See You
When you arrived at my doorstep...
I was not prepared,
To accept your presence.
The day you left,
To explore promises made by others...
You told me then,
My way of life and 'you' did not blend.
You even mentioned my lack of things.
And what I did not have...
That others you sought,
To you could bring!
With a stinging you intended.
You even stated,
How you had hated the sacrifice.
And if I loved you like I did...
I was reluctant to pay the price.
Then I witnessed you gather the support of friends.
Who convinced you our relalationship should end.
And that was done!
With my heartache to begin.
Abandoned you are now.
Without one friend.
Abandoned are your wishes,
That our relationship ended.
And you believe I would leave you out in the cold.
With a sweeping of your BS,
Away from my doorstep.
And yet,
I must confess...
How gald I am to see you.
And yes,
The love you left...
I have kept!
Hoping you would come to realize,
I haver never stopped loving you.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In His Hands
Driven conversations, even I can read
Wouldn't want to fake it, and I'm tired of this dream
Taking medications, in the back of the room
Driven conversations, he died in June.
See the stab wounds in his hands
See him dying in his room
He's dying in his room
He's dying in his room
Heading for me, heading this way
He is coming, I don't care
Wouldn't want to fake it, well I don't mind
Giving conversations to a friend of mine
Giving medications, in a lighted room
Wouldn't want to fake it, I know I should
See the stab wounds in his hands
You killed him, I don't care
Keep a promise, you would too
Keep a promise, even you
See the silence in his head
He is coming, I don't care
We're not gonna make it, well I don't mind
Wouldn't want to fake it, but I have this time
Giving conversations, to whom they don't know
Taking medications till my stomach's full.
See a famine in his head
See him coming at their heels
He loves you, give him a chance
I don't love him, I don't care
See him starving, give her hell
It is over, we don't care In His Room
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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