Regardless of My Needs
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
Does not set well with my adult outlook.
Since I know what it takes,
To pave the path I make.
No one has held my hand,
To prevent mistakes I took like a man.
And I can not stomach those who fake,
Heartbreak because of situations they create.
Or try to diminish their disasters done to others...
As nothing more than an oversighted blemish.
And hear them make attempts,
To run from their misdeeds like wimps!
I'm not living my life to run and hide.
Nor will I take the time to listen to others' sigh!
The strides I've taken...
I took as I cried.
Perhaps that is why,
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
I deny.
And will not satisfy those weaknesses,
I put aside.
When I realize I alone,
Must comfort the healing of my own sorrows!
No one else but me condones!
Yesterday, even now and tomorrow.
Afterall...
I am a man.
And a man is 'suppose' to withstand,
Any stinging pain!
Inflicted with sealed lips.
At least that's what I'm told,
As I conceal my agonies!
With an expectation...
That others can dump theirs upon me just the same!
Regardless of my needs!
Or if I bleed.
My wounds I must contain!
And pretend my feelings have not been changed!
It is all insane.
But if I expose the pain I hold...
I must endure the shame!
That's why I make no announcements to maintain,
Or claim...
My manhood!
As I interpret it to be.
And given to me to explore!
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
I ignore.
Dedicated:
To those of us who are expected to 'understand'
without an ounce of 'that' expressed to us!
We must realize there is a 'blessing' involved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Your Visit With Aging
I don't know why,
You believed I was older than you.
I use to be.
But you and aging have become much closer.
And it seems as if you have been convinced,
To interpret every year you have lived as a struggle.
I'm not trying to interpret my life that way at all.
When aging came to visit me,
I told it to make itself at home.
And if I choose to do what I please...
I'm not making an effort to be rude.
But neither am I going to sit with it to reminisced,
The good old days.
Too much everyday for me is new!
And...
I didn't feel I had to excuse myself from it to explore.
I just do.
You on the other hand...
Seem to want to impress aging,
As a depiction you believe is an acceptable process.
Hey,
We all have our interpretations.
However...
Yours appears to be a bit exaggerated.
But I aint mad at you!
What your visit with aging is like.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aging Excuse Making Children
Difficult and with stress it is,
To be an adult.
And live in an environment surrounded,
By old and aging excuse making children.
Difficult to know it is who is being responsible,
And who to hold accountable...
For the raising of disrespectful kids,
Found totally without initiative or discipline.
It is so hard to maintain one's patience,
And make attempts to explain...
Even to those who appear to have brains,
What the benefit of staying motivated is.
And if one should expose to show concern,
With sincere understanding and comprehension...
One has learned from experience,
This is interpreted as trying to be better than the others.
And eventually...
The one who has grown to be that mature adult leaves,
To keep a nurtured peace of mind...
And those perceptions aging children keep to believe,
Alone for them to condone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dropped Jeans
No men popped for them.
Not those raised to lay in playpens.
Hot topics of 'where' the men could be?
Seems to be an ongoing mystery...
To those accepting disbelief.
As if this has been buried in backyards,
And vaulted in concrete!
Instead of glaring in their faces,
Uncovered by dropped jeans.
Exposing aging butts!
Why they haven't given that up?
Why can't they see the desperate need,
For changing?
Could it be...
No one wants to touch the butts?
Or mention a clean hygiene!
Perhaps fresh thoughts of reality...
Would be a touchy subject,
That would to them demean!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Getting A Horse
So here I am
15 and over weight
not especially pretty
but not bad;
but invisible
and I hide in gym
and the looks I get
keep me in my place.
I try for friends
but the other outcasts
like me
don't seem to want to
draw attention;
can't talk to anyone,
teachers think I'm dull
I talk to my pillow
only my cat understands me
And, of course,
I don't have a boy friend.
She:
'Ok, let go through all of this.
What do you think comes first.
Why don't you pretend that you are your best friend
What would you tell you best friend to do? '
Daughter:
'I don't know.
I would tell her to think about what she can do
or what she really likes.'
'And that is? '
'Horses'
'Horses'.
'I didn't know you liked horses.'
'They are neat.'
'Ok tell your friend what to do about liking horses.
What does she want to do? '
'She wants a horse.'
'Wants a horse
To get a horse what does she needs to do.'
'Get some money.'
'Well how? '
'Maybe babysitting? '
'Sure tell your friend I have someone who needs babysitting
and she can do it to make money.'
'So I did, took a year,
but I got my horse.
some friends along the way
and a boyfriend.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I See My Friends Aging
I see my friends aging
Slower in all they do-
The wrinkles and the hesitations before not remembering,
The difficulties in things done so easily once-
I see my friends aging
Sicker and sadder
Their eyes in some strange distance-
Some of them courageous
With plans and trips and grandchildren,
Endlessly going and doing
And being the best they can-
I see my friends aging
And wonder how long I too can pretend
Its still alright-
At this time of life
Time is cruel
And we are going only one way-
I see my friends aging
And I will soon if I am still here
Walker cane wheelchair
Be ancient too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Want My Poetry
(8/22/12)
I want my poetry to touch the hearts and minds of all who read
And on their emotions my words would feed.
To express to all people no matter who they may be
Or what schooling they may or may not have
That their voices will be heard and told
And their emotions will all unfold.
Every emotion known to man will be written
With a gentle hand.
We as poets can climb into your being
And see what you are seeing, and to feel
Your every emotional pain
For no two are ever the same.
To feel your hunger, your thirst, your needs
And feel the cut vein when you bleed.
To feel your sorrows, your bitterness, your hate
And also feel your religious faith.
We are you - you are us
And in our minds you put your trust.
Let us tell the future generations
That these words were our salvation.
I want to make you feel the splendor
And to my words you will surrender.
To make you feel happy inside
And with a smile you can not hide.
To make you see that ALL LIFE is worthwhile
As you look upon that newborn child.
To let you know that your life was given to you
Because the love your parents knew.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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Songs To Aging Children Come
Through the windless wells of wonder
By the throbbing light machine
In a tea leaf trance or under
Orders from the king and queen
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
People hurry by so quickly
Dont they hear the melodies
In the chiming and the clicking
And the laughing harmonies
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Some come dark and strange like dying
Crows and ravens whistling
Lines of weeping, strings of crying
So much said in listening
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Does the moon play only silver
When it strums the galaxy
Dying roses will they will their
Perfumed rhapsodies to me
Songs to aging children came
This is one
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A Depth There To Share
Superficial surfaces,
Interpreted...
Are often neglected to produce regret.
You have never visited...
Where my emotions,
Live comfortably to sit.
Nor have any of our conversations,
Left neither of us to ponder meaning...
That expressed a desire to explore some depth.
A physical attraction may satisfy temporarily.
But that does not mean instant chemistry...
Can be expected to enjoy mutually.
And yet you wish from me to accept,
Impressions you make...
By a look of a tailored way you dress.
You have never visited...
Where my emotions,
Live comfortably to sit.
Although you voice your opinions,
With assumptions of my feelings.
Without a prioritized time given...
To meet, greet and introduce,
In an exchange we both confess.
A quality meeting we have not done yet.
For either one of us to say...
There is a depth there to share we both respect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rusty Angels
They say you came from heaven but I know thats not the truth,
Cause I dont think an angel could look anything like you,
Your eyes are made from sapphires and your heart is made from stone,
You gotta be the closest thing to hate Ive ever known,
And if I didnt know better Id say you had come alone to the party.
Oh yeah.
The light is always shining, but you swear that its gone black,
The tide is always turning, but youre never looking back,
If I didnt know better Id say times were pretty bad,
Because rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, yeah,
Rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, gonna die.
The gifts you bring are fire, and your dreams they turned to dust,
Your flying days are over, and your wings have turned to rust.
If I didnt know better, Id say all you had is lost,
Because rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, yeah,
Rusty angels they cant fly,
Rusty angels gonna die, gonna die.
If you swallow just a little pride, you might find a little love inside,
Open up and let somebody in, cause if you need somebody,
You know its not a sin.
Rusty angels they cant fly, rusty angels gonna die, yeah,
Rusty angels they cant fly, no, rusty angels gonna die,
Gonna die, yeah, you cant fly, oh no,
Gonna die, oh yeah, you cant fly, oh no.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stewing To Do A Brooding
I know I am aging at a rapid pace,
Because I can no longer tolerate...
Those who make excuses,
With a truth they can not face.
Today so many seem to wish an escape,
From their mistakes they can not admit.
And quick with unsilent lips they are,
To review a stewing to do a brooding over it.
And since my patience has gone,
To listen to the same song sung...
From Sunset to dawn prolonged too long,
I immediately exit from it as being relevant.
I know I am aging at a rapid pace,
Because I can no longer tolerate...
Those who make excuses,
With a truth they can not face.
And it gets annoying to hear,
A voice deceptively lamenting...
Over what was done when they were young,
With a venting of their issues unending.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Babysitter
She says shes babysitting tonight she says come over, its alright
On the couch with my special one but dont tell me what we wont have fun
On the couch with my special one but dont tell me what we wont have fun
She says shes babysitting tonight she says come over, its alright
Yeah, ya know well have the tv on arent we glad that the folks are gone
Yeah, ya know well have the tv on arent we glad that the folks are gone
She went to see if the kids were asleep
She says theyre quiet expect for one little creep
We cant start kissing and Ill tell you why
We cant start kissing cause the kids a little spy
She says shes babysitting tonight she says come over, its alright
She says shes babysitting tonight she says come over, its alright
Allright
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aging
when already old, what do you think never lost?
human, when already old will know fear and become shy
used to pretend not see, pretend not listen
maybe you yearn your youth, but when realize
the life stops
when already old, the last thing gone is worry
you really know the world so you lose courage
you even don't want to see your hair color
of course, there some who covered by despair and boredom
every minutes and seconds go so slowly
of course, there some who too exhausted and do nothing
even though that, don't think because it's too late
you don't like yourself right now
don't shame to be afraid, just do what you think
if finally you realize you're wrong, you still can fix it, don't give up!
you are so tough, old, and wise to keep strong
you should love that aging
stand by feet, because it is your charm and your biggest weapon
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Careful. You're In the Library!
All this talk about who ain't did what!
And who was suppose to do that,
And do it without getting fat,
On wide spreading butts.
All this talk about who ain't did what!
Ain't said 'sssssshhhh...'
'Careful.
You're in the library! '
I'm trying to keep my voice down,
But you all have too much information...
Researched that I've found.
And it makes me pissed and angry.
How can you keep calm?
You should be angry too!
And far more alarmed.
All this talk about who ain't did what!
And who was suppose to do that,
And do it without getting fat,
On wide spreading butts.
All this talk about who ain't did what!
Ain't said 'sssssshhhh...'
'Careful.
You're in the library! '
Is this whisper good enough for you.
See how my teeth grit.
As I move my lips?
See how I make my eyes enlarge?
See how I...
'Careful.
You're in the library!
And when you are inside here...
I am in charge.
Ssssshhh.
Or get out!
And...
Don't think of taking those books,
Before you check them.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hang On To Your Emotions
When your imagination has too much to say
When the chill of the night meets the sweat of the day
And you have trouble understanding what other people have to say
Youd better
Hang on to your emotions, hang on to your emotions
When a demagogue inside your head has taken charge
And by default what you say or do is criticized
And this litany of failures is recited a thousand times
Youd better
Hang on to your emotions, hang on to your emotions
Could it be youve never felt like that
That your minds a cage - inside the cage a cat
That spits and scratches all it can get at
And thats you, and your emotions
Could it be youve never felt like that
Your minds a cage - inside the cage a rat
Rabidly trying to get it, you
And your emotions, you and your emotions
When your imagination has too much to say
When that facile voice inside your head says give your life away
You might think to ask - how it got that way
What books it has read - that make it that way
And where it got the right - to speak to anyone that way
Youd better
Hold on to your emotions, hold on to your emotions
When a night citys breeze blows across the room
And a 5 am moon and sun start their swoon
You hear your lovers breath
And not a moment too soon
You get to
Release all your emotions, you get to
Let go of your emotions, and now
Release all your emotions, youd better
Let go of your emotions
Release, I wanna let go
I wanna release, now
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Me Fall
Let me fall,
Let me rise,
As the sunsets,
My tears are full of emotions I can not control,
One moment I will be crying next I be happy as a bird,
What is this emotions,
Why is that I cry,
Do I cry for the pain I feel,
Or should I just think more and more negative or positive thoughts that runs through my head,
Just let me fall,
Let me make my mistakes,
Let me learn form it,
Let me rise on my own,
I can do this by releasing my sorrows or depression,
It’s the thought that counts.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Cry and Sigh Our Denial Laced Alibis
Babysitting someone's emotions,
Is just too exhausting of a process.
And should never be a commitment made.
Decide when this is recognized,
Not to engage in the notion of it.
Or let it become attached as a daily habit.
The levels of maturity are on a downslide.
Provided by the convenience,
Of walking away from responsibility.
With a fear of taking the reigns,
And being held accountable for anything.
Thus changing a familiarity of some key scenes...
To dramatically evolving and arranged dependencies.
We cry and sigh our denial laced alibis,
And want to dropp this on someone's shoulder...
Quick!
To test a loyalty of friendship.
Or demand from a mate to share in with the waste.
Leaving those subjected to these relationships,
Usually in need to strategically seek an exit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Symphony Of Music
music has away of projecting
your every-emotion that you
have to give, the art of music
lives inside every-one that wants
to follow it.
the sorrow that it has
gives a symphony of words,
to express the inner-emotions
that music has to expose to
us as we listen to it.
the symphony of music
impacts us as we listen
and compassionately take
it to heart, as we start
becoming involved with
the symphony of music that
is being produced to us.
some-how the art of
music takes us by the
hand and moves us in so
many different ways that we
can't even explain to any-one
that is around us.
we take the symphony of
music as it moves through
us, as we listen with an open
heart and an open mind, and find
the boundaries that combines our
very emotions, thoughts, and feelings,
with the symphony of music that reveals
to us a whole new world of music to
us and being the people of the world.
but what people don't
understand and realise is
that the symphony of music,
goes deeper than what they
had imagined it to go, and
some-how not to show this
bittersweet side of me and
what the symphony of music
does to me and my feelings.
and to have it some-how
over-flowing inside my
veins is some-thing that
i will never-ever talk about
with any-one who knows and
loves me.
poem by Erie Diane
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Obstacle 1
I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips
We can cap the old times, make playing only logical harm
We can cap the old lines, make playing that nothing else will change
But she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
She can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
Oh, she's bad
But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this face again
You go stabbing yourself in the neck
And we can find new ways of living make playing only logical harm
And we can top the old times, clay-making that nothing else will change
But she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
She can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
Oh, she's bad
It's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again
You go stabbing yourself in the neck
But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again
And you go stabbing yourself in the neck
It's in the way that she posed, it's in the things that she puts in my head
Her stories are boring and stuff, she's always calling my bluff
She puts, she puts the weights into my little heart
And she gets in my room and she takes it apart
She puts the weights into my little heart
I said she puts the weights into my little heart
She packs it away
It's in the way that she walks
Her heaven is never enough
She puts the weights in my heart
She puts, oh she puts the weights into my little heart
song performed by by Interpol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A Cyberman
What must it be like to live life like a Cyberman:
Living a soulless existence, inside an old tin can?
You would spend each and every single day,
Walking, here and there, in a regimented way.
You would never ever feel either happy or sad,
Or know when life is going either good or bad.
You would just look on, when somebody cries.
You wouldn’t feel any grief, when someone dies.
In other’s eyes, you would see dread and fear,
And you would never ever hold someone near.
You would never hold somebody’s warm hand.
People’s feelings, you would never understand.
You wouldn’t have a brain, in order to think.
You’d just stare straight ahead: unable to blink.
Your voice would be monotone: you’d use no inflections,
And for people and animals, you would feel no affection.
You would kill people with such heartless, brutal force,
And, having mown them down, you’d feel no remorse.
Any human you met, you’d feel the need to upgrade,
And not a whiff of humanity would ever be displayed.
You wouldn’t be able to laugh or to cry,
Or experience life’s lows or all-time highs.
As humans, we experience a mixture of emotions,
Of which, Cybermen do not have a single notion.
Although some emotions can be hard to endure –
Your heart can feel as though it’s being skewered –
Emotions are something which make us human in form,
And both tears and laughter, to humans, are just the norm.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Emotions
i am feeling empty inside
maybe! it's because the feelings that i hide?
at times it's a feeling of loneliness
and at times, it's loves and desires hidden away.
but with all this i have to say.
i will never change the sensations
of feeling different emotions.
love, joy, sadness, bitterness, sorrow, anxieties, and stress.
but closeness is the one i love the best.
to be close and to be inspired, is my lifelong desire.
to have someone to hug you and to tell
you that everything is going to be alright.
and that someone is there, when you're down and out
that is what emotions is all about.
i found love and it was bursting to be free
a love, so deeply hidden inside of me.
i saw the love in someone elses eyes
feelings and emotions that they could not hide.
i felt their exhileration, and each and every sensation.
i felt the pains that a heart must go through
to bring all feelings closer to you.
the heart and the mind work hand in hand
but it is the soul that makes the plan.
(is it the mind that tells the heart what is love, what is pain.
what is sorrow? or is it the heart that tells the mind these things?)
the soul is the one that instills all these things into us
and this is what we have to trust.
emotions is lifes key
it could make you a slave, or set you free.
poem by Louis Rams
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