Something About Forever That Is Never Guaranteed
If anyone is unclear,
As to whose accustomed greed
Has been historically jeopardized.
You need only to look into those faces,
To witness a gloating smuggness...
Sinking fast upon those of fattened cheeks.
And a swelling being done,
Of swollen tear dripping eyes.
With this reality that shocks and surprises...
An exclusive feasting enjoyed,
Seems to be diminishing quickly.
With the shrinking of their numbers.
And the ending of them has begun,
To make them appear...
Visably weakened and mentally sick.
And they are aware whatever happens,
From now on they will have to pay for it!
'No free rides?
No free lunch to munch on in between...
Our travels to observe those of lesser means?
How utterly appalling! '
And those on foreign shores hear their screams!
'MEDIC! MEDIC!
We need assistance.
Hearts are stopping all over the place.
Can we not get better care then this? '
And in their loud protest to overshadow this fact...
Blatant theft, deceit and a bleeding elitism,
Have taken more than a few steps back.
And those scenes depicting irrational gluttony...
Are being removed and burned as trash!
From a past many believed would forever last.
However...
There is something about forever,
That is never guaranteed.
'MEDIC! MEDIC!
We need assistance.
Hearts are stopping all over the place.
Can we not get better care then this?
Thousands we pay annually for 'premium' service.
We deserve better than we claim exists! '
~Someone called? ~
'You're not a medic!
You're a mortician.'
~I am a magician as well.
You see those horses over there?
They look as if they are running in place,
Don't they?
People were stunned to see what I could do...
After they were beatened to death! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Everywhere There Is A Medic
Isn't it easier to criticize,
Anyone doing something with their life...
They seem to like to do with a doing done.
Than it is to stop from feeling aggravated...
That no one gives us the time of day to listen,
To everything negative we say and can find...
That describes why we are such miserable people.
All the time.
With a tuning into grief as if to be treated by it,
On a daily basis to feed on diets of aches and pains.
We keep those feelings bottled up,
And ready to blow...
To explode!
As mean streaks steam...
From jealousies we can't let go.
Oh yeah we keep those feelings bottled up,
And ready to blow...
To explode!
As mean streaks steam...
From jealousies we can't let go.
And everywhere there is a medic.
Over here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And everywhere there is a medic.
Over here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
We keep those feelings bottled up,
And ready to blow...
To explode!
As mean streaks steam...
From jealousies we can't let go.
And over there there is a medic.
And everywhere there is a medic.
And even here there is a medic,
Oh yeah!
And everywhere there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And even here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And over there there is a medic.
And everywhere there is a medic.
And even here there is a medic,
Oh yeah!
And everywhere there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And even here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Victims Of Suspicion
Many will not budge,
Unless a guaranteed dollar can be made.
This affords them pulchritude credits.
To earn and socialize at the same time.
It is rare to find anyone,
Donating sincerety AND their time.
There are many who do volunteer their efforts.
And become satisfied in the sacrificing of themselves.
Others could not think of this...
Unless a need for attention came with it.
And those who do give of themselves and talents,
Readily become victims of suspicion.
There 'has' to be SOMETHING connected to their giving.
Since why would one do it...
If it is obvious they are giving away what they themselves need?
'Medic? Medic?
There is another 'sicko' over here! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Make Me Sick
What I got, couldn't feel any worse
It's like I'm possessed, under some kind of curse
Temperature on rise, I can't close my eyes
(I can't sleep at night and you're the reason why)
Got my heart out in the cold (Breaker, breaker)
I'm afraid of getting broke (Operator, 'rator)
S-O-S, I'm overboard (Cause you threw me in the sea)
Please get the medic, somebody rescue me (Got that fever from you)
Boy, can't breathe, bones are shaking (Ah)
Heavy spinning cause you make me (What?)
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Got the shivers when I'm near you
Call the doctor cause you make me, oh
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
(Ha-choo) I'm allergic to your face
(So queasy even when I hear your name)
Dead on arrival from my self-denial
(I can't even breathe) Boy what you do to me
Got my heart out in the cold (Breaker, breaker)
Ooh, I'm afraid of getting broke, yeah (Operator, 'rator)
S-O-S, I'm overboard (Cause you threw me in the sea)
Please get the medic, somebody rescue me (Got that fever from you)
Boy, can't breathe, bones are shaking (Ah)
Heavy spinning cause you make me (What?)
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Got the shivers when I'm near you
Call the doctor cause you make me, oh
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Boy, can't breathe, bones are shaking (Ah)
Heavy spinning cause you make me (What?)
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Got the shivers when I'm near you
Call the doctor cause you make me, oh
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Mama said don't hate but your bitter pill
I can't get well cause you're keeping me I'll
(I need a check-up or maybe some pills)
Cause I'm sick of your shit
So sick of you here
Ah, ah, ah...
Queasy, shaky-shaky, got me spinning cause you make me sick
Ah, ah, ah...
Got that fever from you
Boy, can't breathe, bones are shaking (Ah)
Heavy spinning cause you make me (What?)
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Got the shivers when I'm near you
Call the doctor cause you make me, oh
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Boy, can't breathe, bones are shaking (Ah)
Heavy spinning cause you make me (What?)
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
Got the shivers when I'm near you
Call the doctor cause you make me, oh
Boy, you make, see you make me
Ooh, you make me
You make me sick
poem by Krista Thomas
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While at college, I did my first lead on a network TV show, Medic.
quote by Robert Vaughn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'd come out of the army after five years as a medic. I was a medical administrator and we ran hospitals, and I was a Captain in the army at the end, in 1945.
quote by Eli Wallach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ugly
Too much of it
Can make one sick.
Can make one overdose...
Until a medic is needed,
To remove it quick.
A beauty once discovered,
Can turn into something else...
To make one vomit.
But I don't only wish to see,
Beauty unbelieved.
I want to taste and lick it butt naked.
Sweating in heat increased by sex.
And staring into eyes with our faces...
With a molding of muscles,
Into unseen places.
Climaxing...
Feeling good.
Wet!
And looking quite ugly at it!
'Baby...
Next time,
No mascara.
Rouge or skin blenders.
You can keep the weave on...
But make sure it is secured.
When I pulled it off...
I thought I had killed you!
A decapitation.
Just be yourself.
You are too beautiful to wear a mask! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suffering From Head Wounds
Those told what to do most of their lives,
What to think, how to think...
What not to believe or listen to.
And who is stupid,
Because of their physical appearances...
Are those who are most traumatized,
By the sign of these rapidly changing times.
Not all...
But most people have been conditioned to believe,
That the unchanged color of a house...
Also determines what goes on inside.
No matter how many renovations have taken place.
Or evolving maturities of the people living in it.
All people will do is to talk about what they 'knew'.
Or what they've been told.
And...
Most of the time what is known,
Had been heard from one's now grown children...
Or a pet dog or cat,
Programmed to be reliable.
But not from the horse's mouth!
People rather beat their horses to death,
Repeatedly.
Those told most of their lives,
What to think, how to think...
What not to believe or listen to.
And who is stupid,
Because of their physical appearances...
Are those who are most traumatized,
By the sign of the times.
Without being medicated,
Few people are sure if and when they should...
Take a left or right turn,
Why and for what purpose.
And if they should or should not ignore,
Signs that warn them to yield and pay attention...
With caution!
People have been taught to believe and do as they please,
Because...
Well,
They are entitled to do so for the rest of their lives.
'Medic...
There's another one over here suffering from head wounds.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Beach Wore Red
A glass camouflage of
Waves hunched upon waves
Sounding the eminent and mortal attack
The sky so blue just the morning before
Rains ashen and gray today
War emits its screams and explosions and death
A tsunami of destruction and terror
Pushing forward those not so brave
Today the beach wore red
A soldier falls up the shore
Grasping a hill of silken bloody sand
A piece of land and then nothing more
Run, run to nowhere and a medic takes his hand
Look for the next place to hide -
Or seek out someone in command
Soldier grits his teeth and crawls -
Trust the buddy system
No one in an Army is abandoned
Chokes back the terror and the dust, presses back his helmet
In a moment can he take another man's life?
The sulfuric stench of smoke and spent ammunition
Caissons of cannon blasts and the ascrid stink of buring flesh
The gasping rasping rattle, the fight for life
And the sound of the silence just before death
Searing shrapnel, furious bullets zing around the Soldier
And his buddies on either side of him are no more
Bodies stacked like cord wood
Waves weep for them then sweep them far out to sea
Or bury them deep in the sandy beach - the tide oozes crimson
Who knew it would be like this?
It was supposed to be noble - a holy thing
With marching bands, drums and fifes
Hardy smiling brigades of lads to lift the flags
Handkerchief waves and burning kisses
From the rose lips of gals left at home -
A letter to say 'come home' with 'small love poems'
But it wasn't that way - just old dead dreams
And pale grim epitaphs -
Labeled dog tags on the toe - a rush to get to shore
The next contribution would be on the country's altar
Perhaps that would be acceptable - preferable - an honor -
A good soldier has to believe
If it comes to that - Being maimed and left for dead
Now that is another damned thing -
There's no comfort in the loss of part of your being
Told 'hurry - move on Soldier - can't stay here'
Nakedly aware of the rifle that isn't there
The saber the soldier will not bear
The medic is called again and again
And the beach wore scarlet in spite of him.
The soldier of conscience thinks better of this
He took an allegiance to serve in the depths of hell
The wide open eyes of death communes with the soldiers - always
Yet the beach doesn't care
It spies another living being
Now wounded and dying
She picks at his limbs as he moans
And she sucks him down
Into her black abyss
Gobbles him before the next soldier's very eyes
Would he have shot the ocean too?
Would you?
How crimson the hands
Of the Soldiers at play
How red the ocean blue.
poem by Joyce A Halvorsen
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In his eyes, his eyes
His open eyes, one catching the sun,
shining towards me – presumably
they still function optically:
recording, unmoved, unmoving, my presence;
this dead soldier, sodden in the ditch,
half his body peaceful, as if
welcoming his death; the other half
unmentionable; animals must eat;
his eyes recording my presence, yet
the brain now with no need
to question whether I’m the enemy; or friend;
the medic; the man who’s just shot him several times
at close range, standing over; or
the man he shot just now;
come to greet him as his newest friend.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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American Soldier
American Soldier
When I say... 'I am an American Soldier'
I'm not shouting I'm better than you.
I'm whispering, I was a boy, and now
find myself a man.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I speak not only of this with pride
I'm also confessing that I stumble,
make mistakes,
And need competent leadership to
help guide me,
So I in turn,
can be a competent leader.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not trying to be strong,
I'm professing that I am weak and
need the strength of my peers and
country,
To help carry me on.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not bragging of past successes
I'm admitting I have failed in the past
Admitted the mistakes and tried to
right the wrongs.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But my country needs me,
and I soldier on.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I can still feel the sting of pain, from
seeing those that I care about die,
While we fight for those that we love.
I have my share of heartaches,
So I call upon the American People to
help guide our soldiers, when home
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not better than thou,
I'm just a simple man,
Who was called upon by his country
to fight.
By: Michael Anthony, Author of: Mass Casualties: A Young Medic's True Story of Death, Deception, and Dishonor in Iraq. (Available at your local bookstore or online at: www.MassCasualties.com)
[Originally inspired by a Carol Wimmer poem.)
poem by Michael Anthony
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Boxes
Boxes of thoughts are looted by the public,
I am one who abstains from pleasure and am a workaholic.
Illness may be soap for the wild and perfect,
But thoughts can be candles, I just do think it.
Joy is from the volcanic thought, a mountain has erupted,
And too soon the philosophy of mine is concocted.
Open the brain of a man in prison, his needs are met,
His mind is really upset, it seemed to glare and be in debt.
From him came my salary of a thinker and a scholar,
Of a medic and a fighter, the very same as a father.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Spooky and Most Crooked Too
Call them a medic!
'Cause their actions are impacting.
And many perceive them to be pathetic.
Far from scenic.
And not atmospherically aesthetic.
What they do is too magnetic.
ooo-ooo
Peace they molest.
ooo-ooo
They should be arrested!
And in isolation kept.
ooo-ooo
What they do is off the hook.
Spooky and most crooked!
And better than any best selling crime book.
ooo-ooo
Their minds are disconnected.
ooo-ooo
Can this be soon corrected?
ooo-ooo
To ignore them is not best.
Round them up and get them treatment.
Since confrontations sweetens them.
ooo-ooo
Get them before they infest like pests.
Agitation feeds their breeding.
They profess they invest in protests.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Way of Life Has Ceased
Mistake it not,
The 'haves' have dropped.
Shocked and stopping a greed...
That bleeds an economy.
Stocks and bonds and savings all,
Are tumbling fast from a highclass fall.
Scurrying to flee this,
Like mice fed on poisoned cheese.
But many have found it's much too late.
They've become fattened by their gluttony and waste.
Draped in gloom with finances gone.
Now a blame is made to continue on.
No escaping is in sight.
Enhanced mansions now scenes of blight.
Stunned are they that this has happened overnight!
But none of this seems to have curbed or disturbed...
Their appetites.
Although their way of life has ceased,
Dramatically!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Halitosis
My mind seems to want to find you,
In times when my thoughts...
Wander and stray.
And I am not fine with that at all.
Since those days of togetherness...
Have long gone away.
I would say hello to you...
If I knew you would do the same.
Just to acknowledge your presence.
And nothing else would I wish to obtain.
But I have no desire for that to occur.
Perhaps it is you,
Who thinks of me today.
After victimizing someone else...
You charmed and betrayed.
You appear from a distance,
I would rather dismiss!
Than to sit and wonder 'if'...
My happiness would be better appreciated,
Under hypnosis...
And cleansed of all of it.
To completely remove your existence!
Like a rebirth renewed and fresh.
That's how much I want your face erased,
From my memory.
Totally!
And I know that would be best!
Requesting without haste,
To clear the air.
Desiring it to be replaced!
When scented by a mint...
Offered to give and taken,
By one suffering from...
Halitosis of the breath,
That leaves a stomach aching.
And it makes me sick...
To think,
I craved to kiss your lips!
UGH!
'Medic...? '
No.
It's okay.
I'll be fine!
Just a bit of reminiscing.
It will pass...
Fast.
Like unwelcomed gas,
That does not last!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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First To Die
“Doc, over here.” I heard them cry.
I raced on black volcanic sand,
bullets nipping at my heels,
my medic-aid kit in my hand.
“Its Mike Strank, they got him bad.”
Mike was down, writhing in pain.
He was losing blood
and awfully pale.
Shielding his body with my own,
in a depression in the ground
I cut away his Khaki shirt.
Until the entry wound was found.
A sucking wound, an evil sign-
red frothing bubbles from his chest.
A styrette of Morphine- all I had
to ease the pain of every breathe.
Suribachi loomed above us.
Barely had a week gone by
since this man had helped to raise
the Stars and stripes up to the sky.
Now he was dying, fading fast.
A grave awaited, far from home.
There was nothing I could do
except not let him die alone.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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God Why?
God why do people die?
God why did you make pain?
God why weren’t you there the day my grandfather died?
God why are there earthquakes?
God why do hearts break?
God why are people on there own?
God why do you make people get hurt?
God why is there fear?
God why are there storms?
God why are people all alone?
God why are there drugs?
God why do people committee suicide?
God why aren’t you stopping global warming?
God why do I have nightmares?
God why is there no peace in this place?
God why did Jesus really die?
God why did you make sin?
God why do people hurt?
God why do children get kidnapped?
God why does love hurt so much?
God why do people break up?
God why do people get beat?
God why is there bad in this world you made?
God why have I tried to commit suicide?
God why did you make me?
God why am I still alive?
God why go I cut my wrist?
God why do I have to bleed to be set free?
God why am I in so much pain?
God why?
poem by Broken Hearts
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Please Somebody Stop Me
No stopping me now.
I went to far.
Just one step too far.
Back up.
Let's see how this stacks up.
No stopping me now.
I went to far.
Just one step too far.
Back up.
Let's see how this stacks up.
The pain has pushed me farther and farther.
Closer to the edge.
A suicidal rage was just a stage.
With daggers in my eyes I just want everyone to die.
A written confession upon this stone.
I walked away from you.
I had no choice.
The cold shoulder.
Every time I think about I feel a little bit older,
Time just continues to tic away.
And I still don't know what the right thing was to say.
No stopping me now.
I went to far.
Just one step too far.
Back up.
Let's see how this stacks up.
No stopping me now.
I went to far.
Just one step too far.
Back up.
Let's see how this stacks up.
Hate, can't even begin to describe the love and anguish I felt.
They say you only have the cards you were dealt.
Well I'm missing my ace of black hearts.
Where is she now?
When I'm looking so hard she can never be found.
Denied of everlasting harmony and peace.
I'm just a lonely old soul to the infinity.
And every time I think about her the guilt just rises up in me.
A volcano ready to explode.
Where do I put it all.
Is their a place under a hidden waterfall.
One last kiss, and it's welcome to the abyss.
No stopping me now.
I went to far.
Just one step too far.
Back up.
Let's see how this stacks up.
No stopping me now.
I went to far.
Just one step too far.
Back up.
Let's see how this stacks up.
Not so good.
Painting a picture of a star saying I wish he would.
Forgiveness abandon for indifference.
Passion abandon for satisfaction.
I loved you so much, and now you wont say one word to me.
I chase only to hit a brick wall time after time.
I want my partner in crime.
No I will not be fine.
Not this time.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The word “Divorce” never exists
Divorce … Divorce…
Think that there is such thing never exist
-o-
Look at the girl twice before you choose
Think twice before you put the marriage ring
Once Marriage is done, it is forever.
Marriage is between two hearts,
If you marry for anything else,
There is no guarantee that it will stand
Marry for money, money can be lost
Marry for beauty, beauty can be lost
Marry for health, health can be lost
Marry for love, love can’t be lost
Look at the eyes and feel the heart
Love is there for you always
-o-
Marriage doesn’t mean, it stands for ever
Marriage is planting the love seed
Plant the love seed, deep enough in heart
Manure with smiles and pore more love
Marriage doesn’t mean, it stands for ever
Trust each other more than self
Stand for each more than self
Keep the self out and live for spouse
Marriage is place to work together
Work heard to keep it fruitful
Pray heard to keep it safe
Love heard to make it more romantic
Spouse and Kids are God’s gifts
God entrusted us to take care of them,
The way he is taking care of us.
-o-
Divorce is the evil
It killed the souls and hearts
Divorce … Divorce …
Don’t think of it.
There is nobody who gained out of it
Divorce … Divorce…
Think that there is such thing never exist
-o-
Still if you think, Divorce is the way
Talk with couples, who broken their hearts
Talk with the kids, who struggled in it
Talk with the parents, who cried for kids
This shows that still love exists
Anger can vanish, but love never dry
Out of Divorce, what are you going to gain?
You lost your celibacy
You lost your heart
You lost your self
You lost your health
You lost your peace
What you have to bring out of it?
Marriage is the place to bury your self
Don’t come out as stinking Skelton
Divorce is like digging the grave
The more you fight, the more you lose
The more you dig, the more it stinks
The more you think you lost your self
Marriage is the place to cover all this
Marriage is the place to hide your love
Marriage is the grave you agreed to sleep
Don’t judge you’re self, don’t judge your spouse
God will judge all of us when time comes
-o-
Marriage is place for honor
Marriage is place for respect
Marriage is place for trust
Marriage is place for love
Marriage is place for nourishment
Marriage is place for forgiveness
Marriage is place for prayers
Marriage is place to learn all this
Marry once and live forever
Marriage may not be a heaven
But Divorce is defiantly a hell
Live the way that
The word “Divorce” never exists
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
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Who's Stopping You
Take all that you've got
Multiply by zero
Divide by the time you've got left
That's x
Add it up write it down tell me what you've found
We're speaking in tongues
Both of us dumbfounded
Our brains have been impounded by our hearts
Life is so uncertain
Look at all the hurting that we've done
You said you had somebody better to become
Who's stopping you
Who's stopping you
Who's stopping you
Who's stopping you
We're wasting our time
Watching our old reruns
Waiting for the good one that never comes
You say it beats working
On the emptiness that's lurking inside your head
Step into the light my friend
Who's stopping you 4x
You said you had somebody better to become
Who's stopping you 8x
song performed by by Semisonic from All About Chemistry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prayer To Share By Alfred Loveland
This is poem for all those we love
with a little help from him above
We do tend to take love ones for granted most of the time
And mostly only ask for help when things go wrong
Well now I am asking for all of your prayers
For David who I am sure is not ready to go up those stairs
Today he has a life threatening operation
This is why I am asking for yours and Gods co-operation
Its true we tend to ask only when the chips are down
I am sure God understands and will not frown
After all we are humans and make lots of mistakes
But please make him well no matter how long it takes
David married my Sister Joan and is a really nice chap
Always happy never moans and full of life
Well now please God let him stay with his wife
He played golf and was fit until he took bad
on the plane back from seeing us here in UK
Two heart attacks which he never even new about
And a third as they Landed in New Zealand
Thank God the medic's were at hand
and were waiting for them as the plane
touched the ground.
My plea is from my heart and very sincere
I am asking you all to pass my prayer around
The sequal to this poem is David is now fit & well and almost back to normal and once more playing Golf
poem by Alfred Loveland
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