Sporadic
He is just a little boy...
Thrown into the limelight craved!
Raised to believe
He came from a diviness to save
Traditions engraved,
Made to enslave!
Sporadic!
He like so many are tragic.
Fooled in schools to use tools to rule,
With an emphasis that disguises values wished
To convey and left static!
He's sporadic.
Using statistics to help lift his social status!
But like others who are like him,
With intentions looking quite grim...
Can find him eating crow
From the lies he chose and told!
Sporadic!
Just like religious fanatics!
Who preach wholesomeness...
Then publicly confess,
They live lives filled with sin and much distress!
Because of identities lost behind sex!
This mess is sporadicly exposed at its best!
Observed in its context!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Sporadic Movement
vital signs are slow and steady
so attentive still not ready
as I was just about to say
you are the one that's over
I am sporadic movement
you are sporadic movement
hate is turning into hunger
just the guy to pull me under
I am sporadic movement
you are sporadic
I involve you
the energy dissolves you
a transformation
a chemical in the brain is so loud
decision making
song performed by by Cky from Infiltrate - Destroy - Rebuild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Despicable Self! !
Selfish people
With indulgent lives
Denying others
Even vulgarity shys.
Living on lies
Eating on vile
Mean in sight
Despicable smile.
Using nobility
And virtue metaphors
Are at loss
These bigoted trolls.
Rage overpowers against
Such brainless fanatics
Deal very wisely
And method Socratic.
Slow and steady
Yet very consistent
Some rhythmic drops
Can crack mountains.
For such sporadic vexers
Becomes that regular teaser
Give lessons of lifetime
but not of Brutus to Caesar.
poem by Samima Shah
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On my left the shooting had the sharp explosion of the infantry artillery, on my right could be heard the sporadic cannon shots thundering from the front, and up above the sky was clear and the sun bright.
quote by Max Beckmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have sporadic OCD cleaning moments around the house. But then I get lazy and I'm cured. It's a very inconsistent personality trait.
quote by Chris Hemsworth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is Nothing But A Word
love is a word,
that we always mis
spell, that we
always miss,
spell, that we always
look for
and when we find
what we think
is love
so pure,
so true
and so enduring
to an irony
we surrender
love is too much
to hold
love is too much
to keep
love is more
than what
we can afford
to a certain
point love
overflows
like a dam
that drowns
us
to a certain
extent
love conquers
us
everything
changes us
from nothing
to something
beyond us
love is nothing
but a word
that we
cannot ever hold
that we
misspell always
and we like
eating such word
love, in this
indigestion, this
sporadic outbursts
of gas inside
our guts and intestines
burp
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Observing Their Choices Made
With eyes opened wide they've made choices,
Throughout their lives.
Believing they obtained stability...
In a world in which their values were compromised.
Now with a realization they've been undermined...
They find they have left their true identities,
Materialized and dignitized to secure in time...
A retirement to enjoy as is meant.
But...
Diminished these visions.
And very much quantitively minimized.
And those criticized for walking on paths,
That made others laughed perceiving them mavericks.
Find they have attitudes of joyous moods.
With a kept faith connected to their fates.
With eyes opened wide they've made choices,
Throughout their lives.
Believing they obtained stability...
In a world in which their values were compromised.
Speeding and slipping quickly in a downslide,
No longer do those who had pass judgement...
Feel secure about their lives.
Today there is an emptiness felt within them.
And...
With an addicted attraction to those things symbolized,
All their lives...
But witnessed today repossessed.
They stare in disbelief,
At the erasing done to their progress.
Along with remnants of any happiness,
That was saved with intentions to spend if left.
With eyes opened wide they've made choices,
Throughout their lives.
Believing they obtained stability...
In a world in which their values were compromised.
And they had been the ones to joke and laugh.
Awakening to discover they've been reduced,
To picking through someone's garbage and trash!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mindanao: The Catacomb of Peace
take me where the ingredients of lewd peace
live, fun me to the shore of sweet embrace
for nothing left with me, but pain and
aspiration to remember the past of excitement
the abundance of milk and honey, capture the
challenge of culture imprison each desire
to the quest of destiny, haul only with faded
hope emptied by sporadic clashes of fear and
discouragement to settle in the light of
discontentment and failure
oh! wealth of many faces, gain and live by
leaches of the politician, help me find my
feet, while the tongue wait to find the
little hand that the brain focus, has install
the courage to wake the deep close eyes that
seldom glimpse of hunger
alas! the dawn finds and settles down each dye
of darkness to glow of blooming daylight zone
to live
poem by Antonio Liao
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People Zoo (thought)
Welcome to the people zoo!
Everyone is here, even you.
There is work, games, and many things to do,
Down here at the people zoo.
Each one of us has our own unique habitat.
Were we can hide away like the dastardly rat,
Or pursue it as the hunting cat.
We all act in our own way,
Acting on our sporadic thoughts throughout the day,
And living in our people zoo.
poem by Poet of the River
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To Enact
To use statistics like fanatics.
To control and to attack!
With one purpose to achieve...
The holding of 'some' people back!
To enact...
A meaningful existence.
To enact...
A control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused!
To enact...
A meaningful existence.
To enact...
A control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused!
To use statistics like fanatics.
To control and to attack!
With one purpose to achieve...
The holding of 'some' people back!
And this is done effectively...
To hide this as a fact!
To enact...
A meaningful existence.
To enact...
A control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused!
To enact...
A meaningful existence.
To enact...
A control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused!
To enact,
Like a coup...
A meaningful existence.
To enact,
As they choose...
Control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused,
Or fooled!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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1: From the Void
A rift in the bones ached
To be amongst the quakes
Of the forest's riddling dance
As I sink in fathoms futilely
Gulping ounces of buoyancy,
Aloof in the inert stance,
Siphoned of sporadic chances,
Slurring in the slopes of darkness,
Chagrined in the tranquil motion,
Lost in the stability of perpetual lost:
This malign cycle is a serpent
Chasing its own tail,
Poisoning its own cure.
The pedagogy of the night
Lies in the pitch black, point blank
Despondence buried in the sighs
In the salient grave in these eyes
Imagine the fathoms to brave
To find my core rocking slowly
Assuaging the moribund sways
Of the pendulums and hooks
That slivered the atmosphere
To sequester my soul
From my body
And from yours
And they called this place
Void.
poem by Norman Santos
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Life Is Just Life
life is neither a heaven nor a hell.
not a puzzle to get displace.
life is life n only life
which we have to live n survive..
life is not a trauma of tumult..
nor of sporadic spryness or sundry sadness
life is living n to live is life
life is not a season of summer or springs..
or of being at shed or scortching heat
life is what it is l-iving i-t f-ullest e-clatically
is the message it gives..
life is not a sea of sorrow or plethora of pleasure
nothing so special nothin to err
life is living n only living..
& the one who defines it, does it for living
life is not a boon nor a bane
& nthng being so estrange
life is to live n to live is life..
& living life makes us suffice.........
poem by Srishti Shrivastava
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On cloud nine! !
My soul has sung odes
Feet troden routes all snowed.
Some rhymes once encountered
Words misheard, and meaning altered.
Rare tales were between lines
Some scattered tragedies, few sporadic shines.
For indifferent; a paradox, that stays clandestine
For keen; a serendipity leaping to cloud nine.
poem by Samima Shah
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Nights Are Cold, Lonely, and Long
As a damp darkness fell
Exchanged words of farewell
His phone calls are sporadic
A soldier's life is nomadic
Both are wishing time away
Seems like forever and a day
It's been fifteen months of hell
She's not holding up very well
He's away in a combat zone
She's eating meals all alone
Hugging up to a picture frame
Her bedtime isn't the same
Vivid autumn colors abound
Leaves dance to the ground
Her greatest Christmas gift
His homecoming military airlift
She prays the 23rd Psalm
Sings along to 'Cherry Bomb'
It was always their favorite song
Nights are cold, lonely, and long
poem by Charles Hancock
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Pondering Upon A Nebula
Lost in the mirror of the sea
and its engulfing eddies
you rolled like a bucket of pearls
chasing a galloping stallion
bleak and white in the night
frothing for a remedial absolution
A stellar soused in yellow flame
skins and bones intertwined with
the frailty of the gods above
you whispered the undecipherable
at the cicatrix of the heart
Like a child in a labyrinth
you flounder in the back of the wind
winding through the streetlamps
rising in the fall of the sun
and all these stagnant trees
passing messages in secrecy
left us rooted in their irony
Your etude left me
with a hunger for your light
Have I failed you
with my sporadic meandering?
In this night where the hellhounds
slavers to a close direst
I reached for your waning coruscation
behind the distant clouds
like a pearl slowly sinking
in the bottomless ocean
poem by Norman Santos
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Evol
Love is for the lovely
Lovely can't be loveless
This world is a hot mess
Love is for the lovely
We're caught up in sex and flesh
Love is for the lovely
Love isn't for the loveless
Love is no longer from the heart
Love is from the eyes
Love is no longer spiritual
Love has become carnal
Love is no longer love
God has been removed from love
Love has become worthless
Love is no longer timely
Love has become sporadic
Spontaneity isn't love
Love has become spontaneous
Copyright © 2008 Leslie Alexis
poem by Leslie Alexis
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Condition of Traditions
How will we handle,
The complete absence of fading values.
And the dismissing of those messages,
Through the years.
Those messages missed and blocked,
By closed ears.
How will we handle the loss of standards,
And our way of self righteous life.
How will we handle the right 'not' to fight,
In needless struggle.
Or clinched our teeth upon a bullet...
As tormenting pain surrounds,
To black and whiten...
Dimming colorized sights.
How will we handle scandle,
And revelations disbelieved.
How many awakened from deep and peaceful sleep,
Will move forward and aware they are seeking outreach.
And...
Just how many will be amused,
By thoughts of being used and abused by slick trickers!
Soliciting more of their conflicts,
In daylight and on city streets.
How can any of this be handled,
While being fixed quickly...
In the midst of this mix!
If...
Conditions of traditions are still disrespected.
Ignored and neglected.
And ammunition is deficient for the ones who are depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
How will we handle,
The complete absence of fading values.
And the dismissing of those messages,
Through the years.
Those messages missed and blocked,
By closed ears.
How will we handle the loss of standards,
And our way of self righteous life.
And ammunition is deficient for the ones who are depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers,
With selfish lives.
Grim and down and out dreamers,
With selfish lives.
And ammunition is deficient for the ones who are depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
With-selfish-lives!
Grim and down and out dreamers.
With-selfish-lives!
Grim and down and out dreamers.
With-selfish-lives!
Just how will we handle the loss of standards,
And our way of self righteous life.
'How can any of this be handled,
While being fixed quickly...
In the midst of this mix!
If...
Conditions of traditions are still disrespected.
Ignored and neglected? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Was Early I Was Told
Happy I am,
To sit among those...
Of common faces.
No status have I ever wished,
To be a full fledged aristocrat...
With a flaunting strutted.
It was early I was told,
Don't spite my nose...
For a choice made to have another.
And any path that I chose,
To walk it the best I can.
Happy I am,
To be able to reflect...
With such great memories.
And daring to be challenged,
Was a gift and not a curse given to me.
I can see why today there are so many unhappy.
Those who wished to be kings and queens...
And referred to as someone's prince or princess,
Actually believed...
Themselves royalty.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter what they had or however looked like.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter where they lived.
Or impressions they 'gave'...
About how they lived their lives.
I was not raised to believe...
I was better than anyone to enable me,
To pass that kind of judgement.
And to have that encouraged,
To be welcomed or received as a belief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What is Life
What is life?
Who knows the true definition?
Is life everything that you want you gets?
If life a bowl of gravy and a bucket of biscuits?
Is life just one good time?
What is life?
Life is not knowing exactly what it is you want
Life is wanting to take it away but you can't because you cherish it too much
Life is being confused
Life is at times being angry and wanting to cry
Life is crying for no reason and wondering why
Life is finding love only to have it taken away
Life is allowing your heart to go astray only for it to be broken within a single day
What is life to me?
right now I can't tell
my life is sporadic
up today and down tomorrow
sometimes there's smiles, sometimes there's sorrow
my life is thinking you've got it only to find out that it was never there
my life is stressful for reasons that don't need to be
these reasons I still cannot see
What is life?
Can you tell me?
poem by Monkey Bubbles
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Static Factions
Static...
Factions.
Static...
Factions.
You will get a bit of it,
If you are in the middle of...
Static...
Factions.
Static...
F actions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
And everything is evilized,
To make sure there's a realized...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
You will get a bit of it,
If you're in the middle of...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
And everything is evilized,
To make sure there's a realized...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
To make sure nothing's minimized.
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
In their static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
And everything is evilized,
To make sure there's a realized...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
To make sure nothing's minimized.
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
In their static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
And being loud about it.
In their static,
Factions.
And being loud about it.
In their static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
And being loud about it.
In their static,
Factions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A moment of fun
It was regrettably a moment
A moment of fun
Right under the sun
As I try to run
Captivated by fear
The harm is already done
I wonder which gender will be born
Where was that elastic
Known by its other name as condom?
Sporadic thoughts storm my brain cells
I better prepare a futuristic story to tell
Will it be a boy or girl?
An unwanted birth
On my cranky old bed set
Where bodies have mixed up
And churned up in anticipated sweat
I regret, I fret
I regret, I fret
Realising the damage
I rage, low on wage and engage
In remorseful thoughts
My thirst has been quenched and trenched
Was it worth it? Behold No!
Did I need it? Behold Yes!
The left overs are the fruit of my labour
The consequences are my only neighbour
At this time I need a saviour
How can I bring a child up all alone?
What direction have the warm winds blown?
In a moment of fun
I lost but he won
Now he is on the run
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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