Seeing Things As They Are
Seeing things as they are.
Oppose to how one wishes,
Or chooses them to be...
Stabilizes the mind.
In times where fantasies,
And delusions have overstayed their visits.
Especially for those who have been heard,
Questioning the realities of the times.
There seems to be a nonacceptance,
Of anything connected to truth or its origin.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Connected To You
There are times when I'm happy
and times when I'm sad
and all of these times that I have had
are all connected to you,
so connected to you.
so connected to you.
There are times when it's sunny
and times when it's not
and all of these times I never forgot
were all connected to you,
so connected to you.
'Cause you have my heart on a string
and I can't control one little thing.
Where's my composure? Where did it go?
'Can't even answer for I don't know.
There are times when I'm jumpy
and times when I'm still
and times when I'm playful
like Jack and Jill.
And they're all connected to you,
so connected to you.
So what do I do to get over you?
You've got me crazy in love with you.
I take a step forward and fall back two
and everywhere that I go
there'll be times when I want you
and times when I don't.
There'll be times that I'll have you
and times that I won't
but there's absolutely nothing I can do
'Cause I'm connected to you,
so connected to you
So I know we can never be through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Etiquette of Standards (Fiction Unrestricted)
With a romancing done to symbolize,
Idols cast in stone to emphasize...
An hypocrisy that stabilizes their lives!
With an ostracizing actively performed,
On anyone who might criticize.
Truth to them is treated like sin.
And those who speak it become victims.
The etiquette of standards are values embraced.
Although contrived are their lives...
In a plan to devise realities compromised.
And based upon fiction unrestricted.
With a romancing done to symbolize,
Idols cast in stone to emphasize...
An hypocrisy that stabilizes their lives!
And that stability cracks backs with lies!
Upheld and defied by those hiding tears they cry.
And an unstoppable higher consciousness,
Comes knocking to pay visits.
And nothing documented can prevent this one bit.
Truth to them is treated like sin.
And those who speak it become victims.
The etiquette of standards are values embraced.
Although contrived are their lives...
In a plan to devise realities compromised.
And based upon fiction unrestricted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Where Have All The Good Times Gone!
All my life Ive never stopped to worry 'bout a thing,
Open up and shout it out,an never try to sing,
Wondering if Ive done it wrong,
Will this depression last for long,wont you tell me,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Once we had an easy ride and always felt the same,
Time was on our side and we had everything to gain,
This could be like yesterday,
Is thst me with your happydays,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Ma and pa look back on all the things they used to do,
Never had no money and they always told the truth,
Daddy didnt need no little toys,
Mommy didnt need no little boys,wont you tell me,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Ow!
Yesterday was such an easy game for you to play,
Ah but then lets face it,things are easier today,
Yes you need some bringing down,
Get your feet back on the ground,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neptune
Nobody seems to dream of visits on Neptune.
With a giving of its wonder and suspense.
There is nobody that seems to speak with curiosity,
Of how life lived on Neptune would be.
What is it about it that escapes wishes to adventure it?
Does it not appear to be intimate?
What is it about it.
Is it too far out there for imaginary visits?
What is it about it.
Is it too much like Uranus?
And Saturn and Jupiter have captured its magic.
What is it about it.
Although depicted by the Romans as god of the seas...
Neptune is rarely mentioned or romanticized,
As a place to be!
What is it about it that escapes our fantasies.
Eight from the Sun to see in orbit.
But no one mentions Neptune for that odyssey.
What is it about it.
So vast it is...
Sixty Earths could sit within its grasp.
But no one wishes a visit with it.
Nobody seems to dream of visits on Neptune.
With a giving of its wonder and suspense.
There is nobody that seems to speak with curiosity,
Of how life lived on Neptune would be.
What is it about it that escapes wishes to adventure it?
Does it not appear to be intimate?
What is it about it.
Is it too far out there for imaginary visits?
What is it about it.
Is it too much like Uranus?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Forgotten And Dismissed
Crediting debts has produced regrets.
And demands to keep delusions untouched...
To enhance the need of a feasting to feed,
The many addicted to an unending of it...
Ceases,
The quickness for some to obtain...
By just the signing of one's name.
Without any collateral to claim or barter.
What is broken can only be fixed,
When addictions are admitted.
And fantasies are cured,
As realities are gained.
With a detoxing from this starting...
The painful return,
To a forgotten and dismissed consciousness...
Aided by the use and ease of plastic wishes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Love
Oh how I wish I could save the times
that I have spent with you.
For if you leave I could take them out
and have them to review.
But since it is not the way things work
I must remember in my mind
All the times I could not save
and never leave any behind,
The times when we laughed, the times when we cried
and the times we just were still,
The times we embraced, the times we faced
when both of us were ill.
Not enough time is the time we have
and so it will run out.
So we must make them count and never forget
what we were all about.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Sometimes and Most of the Times
Sometimes I disagree,
but most most of the times, I confess that I am
Sometimes I assume,
But most most of the times, I confident the things are
Sometimes I ignore,
but most most of the times, I notice the way one thinks
Sometimes I conceal,
but most most of the times, I reaveal as I am
Sometimes I act,
but most most of the times, I show what is the real in Me
Sometimes I lie,
but most most of the times, I stand as Honest
Sometimes I hate,
but most most of the times I like the way one likes Me
poem by Abhijeet Deokar
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At Times You Are Full Of Love (Rondeau)
At times you are full of love and you treat me kind
and I easily follow your state of mind,
fall under your charming spell
and although I know you well,
broken things do me of your anger remind.
There are so many things that to you I want to tell,
the depths of your soul at times I want to find
and I hate it when you scream and yell;
at times you are full of love.
I love you too much to leave you behind
but at times on your teeth you do grind
and at times you treat my like hell,
yet at other times you are like a fragile shell
and my whole life to you I want to bind;
at times you are full of love.
poem by Gert Strydom
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No Business Of Ours
How many times have we
turned our back on someone
who needed our help?
Too many times,
we turn our back saying
this is no business of ours.
How many times have we
walked away on someone
who just needed someone there?
Too many times,
we turn a deaf ear
when we should be listening.
How many times have we
done these things?
Too many times and more.
How many times have we
stood by in someone’s crisis,
but never did a thing.
Too many times,
we have never lifted a finger
when we should have stepped in.
One cry heard in the night
and never answered
is just one cry too many.
Cemeteries are too filled with cries
that were no business of ours.
One day we might realise
one voice can defeat an army,
and one outstretched hand of friendship
could reverse all too popular trends,
saving us from saying,
over and over again,
this is no business of ours.
7 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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I Don't Think So
I Don't Think So
We've been through this time together
AlI in my mind the love was so alive
Oh I never wanted for another
Then I saw the beginnings of a Iie
Good times and the bad times
Through the good times and the bad times with me
Good times and the bad times
Yeah I wonder why I never see
Good times and the bad times
Oh maybe there was always something wrong
Good times and the bad times
Did l wait too long
Chorus:
You said you'd love me for all of your life
I don't think so
Through the best of the best and the worst of the times
I don't think so
You said the world was a beautiful place
l don't think so
You swore the love was perfectly sale
I don't think so
People can only stay together
If in their hearts they know they can say what's on their minds
Would you say
Good times and the bad times
If it can't really be then I gotta move on
Good times and the bad times
Is it really time
Chorus: (repeat)
Said the check's in the mail and the maiI's on time
I don't think so
Said out of touch ain't out of mind
I don't think so
Couldn't live without me, and that's a fact
I don't think so
Love is real and it's not an act
I don't think so
Come on
Good times and the bad times
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
Baby our love was a beautiful thing
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
You said you'd love me for all of your life
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
Through the best of the best and the worst of times
I don't think so
l don't think so baby oh baby oh baby come on
I don't think so
The love was right but the loving was wrong
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Options of Deceit
I would find truth offensive too...
If I had not allowed myself a break,
From my delusions.
And what I discovered about truth...
Had me dilute those delusions,
Until I was able to let them go completely.
I did not know truth and honesty...
Were not options of deceit?
Did you?
I believed deceit was used,
To protect those afraid to be too honest.
And I had heard that truth hurts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Betrayal
we often feel as if we've been betrayed...
and we're hurt, angry, scarred, and vindictive...
but the truth is we lead lives of betrayal.
times we fail others, times we fail ourselves.
times when we mean to do the right thing,
and dont follow through.
times we excuse ourselves by
saying we're following our heart.
times we turn away,
and blame it on circumstance.
times we dont dare to do what life demands.
times we choose indifference,
times we think we've already given enough.
times we choose the easy way out.
times we are not grateful...
times we dont forgive but expect forgiveness.
times we dont speak what our heart feels,
until it's too late....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Our Guessing Game
Walking in the sand
Thinking of things, adventures in my mind
Tall ships that sail
Across the ocean wide
They wont wait for me
See the way they glide away so gracefully
And with tomorrow what will become of me
They leave me so much to explain
Thats the start of our guessing game
There are times when I think Ive found the truth
There are times when I know that Im wrong
And the days when I try to hide my fears
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
Wonder why we try so hard
Wonder why we try at all
You wonder why the world is turning around
When in the end it wont matter at all
Standing in the town
Looking at people, counting their frowns
Unhappy faces, hurrying around
So blind they cannot see
All of these things
The way life ought to be
And with tomorrow what will they make of me
It leaves me so much to explain
Thats the start of our guessing game
There are times when I think Ive found the truth
There are times when I know that Im wrong
And the days when I try to hide my fears
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
There are times when I think Ive found the truth
There are times when I know that Im wrong
And the days when I try to hide my fears
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
There are times when I think Ive found the truth
...
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driven From The Seat
His life is a lie.
Smothered under alibis.
Tied he is to connected delusions!
Only his breathing...
Is not worth debate or denied!
Everything else should be of concern.
As he is driven from the seat,
Of every illusion he yearns!
Kept nourished he is,
To feed an ego burning...
That has marred a scarred reality.
And nothing of this he has learned...
For him to expect a respect not earned!
His life is a lie.
Smothered under alibis.
Tied he is to connected delusions!
And a dangerous mind like his,
Continues to leave behind misery!
And tears to those believing...
Anything he says he is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Brewing Scent Of Freshly Made Coffee
It is no longer a matter of them telling the truth.
No...It isn't!
And it should be a concern for those who know it,
As it exists in their gut and as it has to them meant,
From observation, felt and experienced as presented...
That those who use other than truth to tell,
Actually are not convinced others are aware they lie.
Since alibis and excuses behind which they hide,
Has been something done to do all of their lives.
And their delusions have become their defense mechanisms.
But today,
Those embellishments exaggerated are easily chased away.
And facing consequences as a result of their defenses,
Has created their dilemmas and conflicts with their entitlements.
Some people will create right in the face of others,
There own versions of what is going on.
With eyes are pure as those seen coming from children.
And this isn't given as an option to express,
Their difference of opinion to address.
This comes from refusing to accept the absence of alternatives.
And what has taken place is immediately from them mentally erased.
Leaving feelings of abandonment,
By those who have been fantasized all their lives.
That is why they protest with a nonacceptance of a reality that is!
Although those realities as they are have never before to them been felt.
And no one seems to acknowledge,
The brewing scent of freshly made coffee...
There!
And everywhere in the air for all to get a deep whiff of it.
'That 'smell'?
What is it? '
~I have not a clue.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where Have All The Good Times Gone
Well, lived my life and never stopped to worry bout a thing
Opened up and shouted out and never tried to sing
Wondering if Id done wrong
Will this depression last for long?
Wont you tell me
Where have all the good times gone?
Where have all the good times gone?
Well, once we had an easy ride and always felt the same
Time was on our side and I had everything to gain
Let it be like yesterday
Please let me have happy days
Wont you tell me
Where have all the good times gone?
Where have all the good times gone?
Ma and pa look back at all the things they used to do
Didnt have no money and they always told the truth
Daddy didnt have no toys
And mummy didnt need no boys
Wont you tell me
Where have all the good times gone?
Where have all the good times gone?
Well, yesterday was such an easy game for you to play
But lets face it things are so much easier today
Guess you need some bringing down
And get your feet back on the ground
Wont you tell me
Where have all the good times gone?
Where have all the good times gone?
Where have all the good times gone?
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fake and Hollow Platitudes
All of their lives,
They have been addicted to lies.
The truth is despised.
Along with those who tell it.
But even their fantasies...
Once leased,
With credit extended.
Have many attending church these days,
Praying to God...
To keep their sweetened delusions alive.
But still they try to persuade God...
They are of true faith.
As if God is flattered,
By fake and hollow platitudes.
As if God is there to be abused...
By a show of their empty praises.
As if God is a creation...
Of their Wall Street wishes,
And its fluctuations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: God Ne’er Forsakes Me
How many times have I ignored warnings?
How many times have I tried not to heed?
How many times have I sinned by mornings?
And yet, Thou didst forgive my acts indeed.
How many times have I walked in sin’s paths?
How many times have I reveled in sin?
How many times have I taken sin-baths?
And yet, Thou didst help me o’er Tempter win.
How many times have I failed my duties?
How many times have I Thee disobeyed?
How many times have I lost my mind’s peace?
And yet, Thou didst come promptly to my aid.
How many times have I forgotten Thee?
And yet, Thou didst not once ev’r forsake me.
7-23-2001
poem by John Celes
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We All Reap From The Value Of Our Investments
If one is not making attempts,
To place their best foot forward...
At all times.
With a mind connected,
To the environment...
And what is around them.
What voice can they claim with demands?
And raised in outrage,
That they are entitled to benefits...
Others who have worked at it,
Get.
We all reap from the value our investments,
Made.
And most times,
The come to equal our expectations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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