Spinning Out of Control
To be part of a collective whole
Does not diminish the value,
If kept polished and acknowledged!
However...
If that piece increases to become ignored,
And perceived as not as important...
Forgotten to rot.
No longer adored.
The quality of the whole also loses,
As its stature and influence tilts
From a constant abuse,
Willed upon it.
And a prominence once gained,
Begins to show...
A detrimental change!
An 'arrangement' is damaged.
Unattended greatness,
Can not itself sustain.
With bits and pieces chipped away...
Unrecognized for its need to be nourished,
Constantly in conscious ways!
A pride falters and shallows in purpose.
Everything then begins to taint...
To oxizidize and rust!
Everything that did not contribute...
To the purity of its breath,
Becomes distrusted.
And beings to die,
A slow death from a life given to cherish.
And the whole that was,
Is no longer what it could have been!
Spinning out of control...
Until it fades,
And dust is all that remains to scatter.
Lost from its majestic magnetic hold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
(Rejection Poem) Angel Of Death
The blood is rushing through my veins.
Breaking free of the shackles and chains.
Being pulled away.
I want to stay but I must go.
Oh hell, no.
It wont happen.
I killed all the passion.
Its over.
Done, sorry but this game can never be won.
The angel of death has come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I got to just walk away.
Its no longer my mistake.
I must take control.
Pulling the reins trying to drive me insane.
Patience, is no longer in my best interest.
Just leave me alone.
Let me be calm.
Probably should get stoned.
A unending high in this life.
A dream being destroyed.
But I must let go.
For the angel of death has come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I must take control.
A choice has been made.
As the day fades.
Win or lose it no longer matter anyways.
I'm not playing.
I'm not staying.
So let the angel of death come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I must take control.
I was the fool.
I was the fool.
A life so cruel.
I'll watch from afar.
Like a distant star.
You can no longer reach me.
You can no longer b*tch to me.
The line has been written in the sand.
Everyone one on that side is damned.
So let the angel of death come.
Reaping the lost souls
oh reaping the lost souls.
I must take control.
By saying no,
i will not follow a heart so hollow.
I'm not blinded by the sickness.
No oh no.
So let the angel of death come.
Just let her come.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Once That Letting Go Begins
Once that letting go begins,
There seems to be such freedom to admit...
Every aspect of pain and sorrow inflicted,
And held within, lifts.
Without anxiety...
One is freed!
A comforting peace is released inside.
And it no longer is important...
To keep conflicts kept.
With a brewing of embitterness,
Left denied one attempts to hide.
Once that letting go begins,
A forgiveness ends those mental mindblocks.
A healing mends.
And a bruising abuse comes to a stop.
Once that letting go begins.
Illnesses of all kinds fade,
To then be dropped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sunburst
Words and music by bob seger
The crowd without a face
Begins to fill the space
In the arena
Flashlights at his feet
The lion from the street
Awaits the christians
A single strobe ignites the night
The smoke begins to rise
A sea of staring eyes
Gaze on the sunburst
His weapon at his side
He flashes it with pride
Before his legions
Fires begin to rage
And they engulf the stage
All right
Bring on the night
Hes in complete control
Hes stepping proud and bold
And everything he touches
Turns to gold
Hes got girls by the score
Hes got em screaming for more
But when they get too close
He bars the door
He makes his great escape
Leaves them in his wake
Without a warning
The ritual is done
A night no longer young
Fades into morning
The sun begins to rise
As he begins to close his eyes
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Genuine As Those Who Know It
Whether it becomes displayed,
Or laid in the shadows to dust...
Quality is eventually discovered.
And known to show what it is.
Quality dusted never ages to rust.
No matter what attempts are made,
By those unappreciative of its value.
A quality that remains to be quality,
Is as genuine as those who know it!
Regardless of what rating it gets.
Quality can not be rated against,
That which it has no peers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A New Believer
A new Believer within God's hand by God's Grace becomes a new man.
Although your flesh still remains, your inner heart is not the same.
As The Spirit takes up residence, God in your life takes preeminence.
Your heart now becomes incensed by your former life of decadence.
Your desires are no longer the same since The Lord has made a change,
A change by The Grace of God to leave the old path you once had trod.
Saved from your former life of sin, now Christ richly dwells within.
Now that you have died to sin, a new life in Christ Jesus now begins.
Purchased with a special price, The Precious Blood of Jesus Christ.
Your life isn't yours anymore, for now you belong to Christ The Lord.
Old ways that taunt your mind need to be dropped and left far behind,
As The Holy Spirit living inside uses God's Word to renew your mind.
When your flesh begins to be weak God is the one you need to seek.
For this battle you feel inside could be that eternal enemy of pride,
And filled with Christ's meekness, God is displayed in our weakness.
God's Grace is sufficient for you and His Grace will see you through.
We died to sin once and for all and we're under Grace not under law,
Sin in us is rendered powerless so we can be tools of Righteousness.
If we are crucified with Jesus we no longer live but He lives in us.
We must offer ourselves as a sacrifice pleasing God and Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©04/2004)
A Best Culture
Flowers are the smiles of plants and trees
Like the morning Sunshine creates brightness!
Sweet smiles of everyone is the bright side of one
That should not be hidden from the public's eye;
For, that brightness spreads through all everywhere.
Culture is to greet all with a smile despite difficulty
Thereby sorrowfulness of one can be transformed
And the ideas got out of conversation may change all;
Gloominess can be turned into brightness in life.
The purpose of festivals and celebrations do that well!
Love of kind words brings about change unprecedented
Whose influence begins with a smile at first to influence all
To smile too and whose infection increases health of life;
This is the culture humanity needs to be nurtured ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Death Cannot Take (For Brian Smith)
Death parts us, and as we deal with loss
We try to scrape together the bits and pieces
That bound us together in life’s jetsam and floss
Things that touched us, the additions, the increases
The laughter, the wisdom, the passion, the love
That made even the darkest days brighter
That clarified and increased the quality of
Life and life’s mysteries and we try to anchor
With firm memory what death tries to end
To make sense of the senseless, to order this chaos,
To preserve what we gained, to keep, to append
To push back against the overwhelming sense of loss
Death only hurts where love lives
Death cannot take what love’s memory gives
© 2011 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Nothing Remains to Sustain An Intensity Given
The cresting that comes and wanes...
Does not fade within a heart,
That has felt the gift of Sun!
It remains and not falters...
To sparkle bright and reflect,
Upon those who witnessed...
And accepted a change that has occured.
Nothing remains to sustain an intensity given.
It is an experience to be collected.
Shared and remembered for what it is.
Not to be held to define one's greatness.
Attempting to achieve a stability that keeps evolving...
Results in defeat and overwhelming conflict!
Nothing remains to sustain an intensity given.
It is an experience to be collected.
Shared and remembered for what it is.
And passed on.
But some with greed would like to perceive,
With beliefs worshipped and symbolized!
That this giving done is of their own creation!
And they can not let it go.
Like a leaf refusing to fall from the tree of its life.
Remembering what it was.
And not accepting this process that moves on!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Man’s Downhill Course!
When pride engulfs a human mind and heart,
And selfishness is prime motive that goads,
And telling lies becomes life’s innate part,
A man is already on marshy roads!
When ambition in life surpasses well
All duties and responsibilities,
His dignity, a man begins to sell
And multiplies his life’s iniquities!
When man begins to feel that he is great,
And cannot recognize his brethren’s call,
His glory has begun to attenuate:
His graph of fame plummets before downfall!
No longer can one call that man a man;
Awaste has gone his entire life’s span!
poem by John Celes
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Content
If i were to tell you
that i love you
If i were to show you
That i care
Would you help me pick up the pieces
Of my broken heart?
Even though my love for you increases
The strenth of my heart
The strenth of my soul
Cannot hold much longer
I try to stand up
I try to fix it
But i'm not getting any stronger
But if I were to show you i care
From my heart would you sow up this tear
I love you
with every little piece
My love has
yet to decrease
Maybe someday it will
But for now
I'm content
With loving you
Even if it hurts
The Voice Says In My Heart
Dreaming of a life of peace,
Though I am shattered to pieces.
A damaged spirit, resulting from a defective mind.
Broken and irreparable, so I think.
But my thoughts got me here in the first place.
On my knees, looking up, I see the light.
Shining down on me from above.
It connects with the light inside.
The voices in my head silence.
My mind clears, true vision appears.
'Pick up the pieces.', the soft voice whispers from within.
'Many pieces, put together, makes a piece.'
'That is what you seek isn't it? '
'Give them to me, for the pieces are heavy'.
'What I have created, only I can fix.'
'It was broken by you in the first place.'
'Because I was not your first place.'
'I was your last. I was your end.'
'But now you have reached me, '
'Let me show you what I can do.'
'For I come with an eternal warranty and a misery back guarantee.'
Piece by piece, I was put back together.
Until I was one.
Not one with my thoughts, but one with my maker.
No longer listening to what the voices in my head say.
But to what the voice says in my heart.
As it whispers to me, I can feel it's voice.
'Peace.'
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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In Hindsight
First they declared,
He was too inexperienced.
Now they seek his opinions.
After the election he has won.
He has proven his brilliance stuns!
And yet...
He remains courteous,
To a leader...
Eight years ago,
The public it is said...
Had picked.
Now they all wish,
He disappears and quick.
Because those who are...
And had been conscious of it,
And tricked.
Are wishing to erase...
A disgrace that exists.
Like a haunting that remains,
In their minds they can't evict!
They can no longer fake,
An expression of false pride!
An incompetent leadership...
Not only has created damaging affects,
But an ignorance has presented them all...
With gloomy faces and a mess!
To clean up.
But with no time left to perfect.
And they wish in hindsight...
A greed enjoyed,
They now could hide!
Or...
From it step aside!
And with a baited breath,
Nervously kept!
For them the anticipation,
Feels much like a slow death!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Act of Inaction by Those who Are Powerless
Credit only needs to be given where its been proven.
Justification of how acquired is not necessary never has been.
The less fortunate, find it more fortunate to be less and know that they weren't responsible for the mess.
But their inaction is one and the same.
We can all point the finger and blame.
And live in shame.
Or fix it, imagine that claim to fame.
It's a sensation trying be sold everyday.
Do it my way, no do it my way.
In an argument of an agreement, neither have got the entire solution as a whole.
But its together in which it's deployed.
Each what they most desire.
But in a compromise of selfish deeds.
In which the loss of most important to be.
It fades and soon you no longer see.
What hides behind those clouds.
A shroud, to protect you from the wholesome truth.
In all the ugliness.
In all the craziness.
Self sustaining is just no longer possible.
Not in the face of denial by systematic trials of those who have and have not been proven.
So with one lost, comes one win.
Human suffering is where it all begins.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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When an Interest Begins to Wane
When an interest begins to wane.
As if a weeding from a flowered crop...
Suddenly stops,
An attention given.
This is noticed as a harvest,
Drops its flourishing known.
And the one who daily nourished it...
Finds a more suitable taste to explore.
A task addressed and once adored.
When an interest begins to wane.
And a welcomed rain,
Now pours to go ignored...
To drown what fed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Change
As I stand here I ponder greater things
No longer a part of
A part of your lovers dreams
So much for your
Common complications
So much for your
Constant desperation
For whats to come
Its all been written
Down, written down
But I feel that a change is
A change is gonna come
I feel so alive now
And I feel that a change is
A change is gonna come
As I sit here Ill tell you greater things
No longer a part of
A part of someone elses dreams
So much for your
Common escalations
So much for your
Constant fabrications
For whats to come
Its all been written down, down, down
I said for whats to come
For whats to come your way
Its all been written
Down, written down
But I feel that a change is
A change is gonna come I said
I feel so alive now
And I feel that a change is
A change is gonna come
Keep on time
Keep on time
You run along
Keep on child
Keep on child
You move along
Keep on my time now
I run around for you
Keep on time
Keep on time
You run along
Keep on child
Keep on child
You push it on
Keep on my time now
I run around for you
You dont know yet
You dont know yet
You dont know yet
But youll feel it in your soul
You dont know yet
But you feel it in your soul
As I lay here I wanna fall asleep
No longer
No longer a part of your tv screen
A part of your tv dream
I said so much for your
So much for your common complications
So much for your
So much for your constant desperation
For whats to come its all been written
Down, written down
But I feel that a change is
A change is gonna come I said
I feel so alive now
And I feel that a change is
A change is gonna come
song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Forgotten Journey
Long Forgotten Journey
By: Adam M. Snow
What am I, that is no longer,
Lost in stormy seas unchanged,
But one weak as I now stronger,
Curse to walk this world deranged,
And I, alone yet not alone,
With but my love to atone.
I despite what I have become,
I condemn myself to death,
Henceforth to why I am numb,
And to why, I give my dying breath.
One to rise yet one to fall,
And on this morrow, I give my all.
Must this be but a journey within oneself,
A journey that was once long forgotten,
So that I may find myself,
For I in earth am rotten,
But I struggle with all devotion,
Blinded by my single emotion,
I wander for greater purpose,
In a world departed from oneself,
I found myself in Jesus,
And through him, I healed myself.
Must this be fate, that I no longer lost,
Twas the blood of lamb that be the cost.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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The quality of mercy (conditions apply)
The quality of mercy,
Portia declared,
the quality of mercy is
suspended during the present conflict
the quality of mercy is
not the business of a Minister of Justice
the quality of mercy is
not a matter of individual conscience
the quality of mercy is
too subtle for public discussion
or law
the quality of mercy is
only for Shakespeare and stuff
the quality of mercy is
less stimulating than revenge
the quality of mercy is
no business of yours
the quality of mercy is
no concern of religious authorities
who should stay silent
the quality of mercy is
an outdated concept
the quality of mercy is
nothing to do with forgiveness
or circumstantial evidence
or the remission of sins
the quality of mercy is
no longer a matter of pride
the quality of mercy is
no longer a mark of humanity
the quality of mercy
would be OK if Obama said so
the quality of mercy
is one hell of a hot potato
cooked in oil
the quality of mercy
droppeth as the gentle
dew from heaven
upon a broken fuselage
and it is too much
or too little
for our understanding.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Six Feet Under
In the morning I wake up
And in the night I sleep
Since the day that I was born
Repeat, repeat, repeat
Brought to this life
Born to this life
Where was I before?
Non-existent? not at all?
Will I ever know?
Today is my birthday
And I get one every year
And some day...
Hard to believe
But Ill be buried six feet underground
Subconsciously motivated natural instinct
Alter nature for the pleasure
Orthocycline
Flirt with conception
Slow the cycle
Will the baby grow?
Social tradition interference
Control, control, control
Today is my birthday
And I get one every year
And some day...
Hard to believe
But Ill be buried six feet underground
Ill be dead and gone, no longer around
Spinng, spinning
Before I can recall
All the unknown chemicals
Control the cycle
The successive generations
From dust to dust
Burying my grandma
Then give birth to my own daughter
Today is my birthday
And I get one every year
And some day...
Hard to believe
But Ill be buried six feet underground
Today is my birthday
And I get one every year
And some day...
Hard to believe
But Ill be buried six feet undergrounf
Ill be dead and gone, no longer around
Ill be burried six feet underground.
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unexpected Is The Satisfaction That Comes
Savor a limelight achieved,
When and if these rays upon your deeds...
Should happen.
Nothing accomplished before the eyes of others,
Stay in their minds as a memory...
Longer than it does in yours.
Be grateful your activities have been acknowledged.
And when the spotlight begins to dim on your efforts,
Be the first to encourage others...
To do what it is that is loved.
Unexpected is the satisfaction that comes,
When others begin to show their appreciation...
For what your devotion, loyalty and efforts have done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Last Day That Circumstances Stole
With no way to stop them, tears well up in his eyes;
He may no longer control his emotions, once he begins to realize,
That, at long last, the time has finally arrived-
The jolllity he has long-feigned, no longer need be contrived;
Today, a Father re-acquaints with a Daughter he barely knows,
He cries like a baby, yet believes it hardly shows;
No, there is naught with which to prepare for the exaltation
He now feels, down to his very soul-
Yesterday is now the last day that circumstances stole,
From both him and his beloved Daughter; today
Begins a new journey of discovery- a new way
To look at life; one of dreams no longer deferred-
One of anguish ended and of heartache conquered!
She turns the corner, now fully into view-
I think to myself: 'she looks just like you! ',
This miniature Angel-whose life has passed outside of mine eyes
Is now before me, when much to my surprise-
She says: 'hello Daddy, I have missed you so very much!
Though I have only a faint memory of your very touch,
I do very much remember you; I will never forget;
Memories of you are memories I could ne'er forfeit,
For I knew not, if I would ever again see you! !
I hoped that each man that I met, would be you!
I indubitably know where to place the blame-
She and I have naught in common, not e'en a last name!
Daddy, from now, and for always, it is going to be alright-
Now that I am again in your loving arms, and you hold me tight! '
Maurice Harris,24 June 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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