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Tantrum Queens

There are those who are writers.
And others who choose to be tantrum queens.
They are the ones demanding to be rated.
Demanding their submissions be assessed.
With a listing of their writings,
Read and reviewed.
If not those requested to do this,
Are discussed in forums and demeaned.

It's so obvious it is disgusting.
And it is those who are younger that do it.
With words drawn from concepts that are incorrect.
They have high expectations...
For something submitted less than their best.
Hoping for a rating as if competing in a contest.
Wishing that thoughts half expressed,
Makes a bridge to eliminate any guess work!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How to Do what Has Been Done Even Better

The achieving,
With a delivery done...
To another,
Of their expectations received.
Only increases the level,
To heighten...
Something else more demanding,
That is wished.

And 'if' disappointment,
To the one who receives and gets comes...
Because that one accustomed to giving,
Has no time to fulfill demands on command...
As if a magic wand is in one's hands,
Those who have become spoiled...
Are quick to soil one's reputation.
Without hesitation.

And...
Just as easy as those who believe...
Deeds done by a 'doer',
Is nothing more than picking what is wished...
Out of a hat!
With a rabbit or a cat.
And perhaps a few flying doves...
As an added surprise to delight and satisfy,
Those sitting with nothing else to give,
But critique and suggestions...
On how to do what has been done,
Even better.

The achieving,
With a delivery done...
To another,
Of their expectations received.
Only increases the level,
To heighten...
Something else more demanding,
That is wished.
With a showing of a caring less,
Quick to be expressed from their lips.

'You've ALREADY done 'that'!
I've seen it.
How about you doing 'this'?
With a doing of it...
As if you mean for 'me',
To be impressed.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Main Types of Writers (personal opinion)

The Lonely Writer

Some writings tell me
This person is lonely
And is reaching out
For the touch of a friendly comment
These writers are sad, solitary,
Isolated, but good persons
And quite often very good writers

The needy juvenile writer

Some writings contain words
Or language meant to shock
And to offend.
These writers are lonely also
But in a different way.
These writers are simply saying
Like a little child
“hey! I exist! Someone better
Acknowledge me! ”
These writers can often write well
But usually don’t, can’t, or choose not to

The Spite Writer

This writer can be of either gender
But seems to be in a female majority
They’ve been spurned or rejected
Two-timed or lied to.
And they are going to vent their ire
In the most public way they can.
These writers can also be very good writers
But too often let their anger get in the way.

The Religious Writer

These writers show people passionate
And zealously devoted to singing the praises
Of the Lord and goodness and charity.
They’re probably austere, honest people
Who almost always write very well.
For the most part these writers seem
To want to spread the word and
At the same time tend to be rather singular
In the subject matter of their writings,
Rarely attempting other genres.

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Home With My Writing

how often do i have to read
other people's work hoping that i may soon hone mine
and get
the admiration of other writers?

that is a long time ago and i guess
i have changed

whether admired or not we are all writers in our own ways

it is just a matter of self-expression
a way of telling those who will be left here that once we were here and we have written a lot, a legacy in words, that we are the ideas of our own time,

and time perhaps is glad about it
how we wrote and what we wrote for and whom

it's perfectly nice living life at your own pace
saying the words you want to say and leaving everything for the rest to see and judge

so to say, i am finally at home with my own words and style.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Either Way

Most of my work submitted,
Has neither been read...
Or commented upon.
And the bulk of those not rated.

That a few take offense,
I have created new work...
And chosen them not to be subjected,
To a procedure I still feel makes no sense.
Baffles.

Those who would not make any comment at all,
Have become incensed.

I don't know whether or not to appreciate...
This as flattery?
Or if this is confusion,
From minds much more complexed than mine!

Either way...
I'm still left to say, 'Huh? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love of the Heart and Soul

Love has demanding features,
It resides in the head like magic,
Innocence may consider the prizes
As formations of soldiers,
Like a dearer price is requested
For the sale of friendship.
Love may require certain factors
I have no doubt in since I was born.
May the demands of relationships be strong
Enough for the fruition of the holiness so strong
That it is called love itself.
Love has demanding features of the heart and soul.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Aging Done With Maturity

An aging done with maturity,
Allows some to become objective.
With a forgiving of those who had demeaned.
For whatever the reason may be,
People choose to select others...
With a choice to make them their enemies.
So foolish is this process.

And when one ages a patience seems to arrive,
With a sharing of recipes...
Some announce they would like to try.
And the openness by which sex is expressed...
On all levels of intimacy,
Are quickly discussed without embarrassment...
As if in the doing of it is an achievement,
Those who age want everyone to believe!

'My grandparents use to talk to me about sex,
More than my own parents did!
And where they were when wars were fought!
What's up with that? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Terrorism is the tactic of demanding the impossible, and demanding it at gunpoint.

quote by Christopher Hitchens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Eyes Are Fixed Only Upon The Dealer

I've made comments.
And sometimes read more,
Of your work.
I may or may not give what I read a rate.
I appreciate the giving done.
Because I know what that takes.

But to suggest that I must read,
Your submissions with a rating I don't feel.
Doesn't do the craft any justice at all.
Going through the motions,
To appeal an ego seeking to be massaged.
With a zap to zing a zest,
That produces an invitation to squeal with zeal.
Ugh!
I never was one to seek that kind of praise.
Since my connection began with pure love.
You know?
I'm one of those who do it for the art types!

I've made comments.
And sometimes read more,
Of your work.
I may or may not give what I read a rate.
I appreciate the giving done.
Because I know what that takes.

But I'm not going to foresake what I do for you.
Nothing like that appears in the deck of cards...
God has dealt to me.
And until I leave...
My eyes are fixed only upon The Dealer.
That's it!
This is His game.
Not mine.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To What Degree Will A Rating Achieve?

I've read your 'work'.
And I think you are great.
But there is a dilemma.
You wish from me,
To select a rate.

And I ask myself,
'Is it easier for me,
Than it is to rate?
And on what scale of approval,
Do I show I appreciate?

Do I give what I've read...
A 5?
Or 10?
Or...
Perhaps an 8?
And...
If I don't rate at all,
Will this choice irritate?

I've read your 'work'.
And I think you are great.
But there is a dilemma.
You wish from me,
To select a rate.

Is saying you are 'great' not enough,
From me.
And to what degree,
Will a rating achieve?

Will you still produce your greatness?
Or...
Will you leave this activity.
To find one that appeases your ego to please?

Or...
Do you seek an approval and acceptance,
To express from YOUR heart...
I neither feel or see.
Or can say I have experienced from your point of view.

What will a rating from me,
Prove and do for you?
A success you wish to be,
Outwardly and not internally from yourself expressed?

Perhaps I am getting too 'old' to Get It!
I once believed what one loved was self motivating.
But today...
Many are blinded by stars in their eyes.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is More to Being This Blind

Look at one.
Then to the other.
One does not have to say...
They represent change.
That should be obvious!

Unless, of course...
Someone is in need of a 'cane'
To determine,
They can not see!
Since they are sightless.
And the light is too bright...
To reveal enlightened qualities!

And one comes forward and has stated...
Having had an experience,
They are better suited to deliver as foreseen.
After years of observing,
The needs of the people on the scene.
The very same people,
Whose quality of life has long been demeaned.

And one wishing to be selected,
To prove what is needed can be done...
States there is an advantage,
To have lived longer than the other one.
And the one younger...
Has rolled up sleeves and hands of dirt.
Proving to be the one not afraid of work!

There is much more to being this blind,
Than meets the eye!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreaded Requests

I am not a rude or ignorant man,
but there are some things,
that I will not do.
Unfortunately, I do not like
to read a lot of what
I am politely requested to read.
I am often bombarded by people
asking me to read
and comment on their work.
I do not like to be rude
and ignore their pleas,
but I just read what I like,
not what I am asked to read.
I choose whom I like,
if I see a title I find interesting
I will take the time to read it
and make a mental note of the author.
If I like what I read,
I will dip into that author’s work
time and time again.
I do not care if they read my work or not
that is their choice and I have mine.
All I ask is let me make up my own mind.
Do not bombard me with notes
requesting that I read your work,
as I am likely to ignore them.
I am not being rude or ignorant
it is I just do not do requests.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faculty

Sometimes it seems so hard to work out the words,
and then again it seems not hard at all. Just write,
is as simple as that. There are times i can't seem to
work the words, other times the words come up
bubbling in my head with character and meaning.
At times i feel challenged by other writers, and i
begging to doubt my ability to work the words,
i simple read another writer and then i know i have
nothing to be worry about. I understand then that my
contest is with myself and not with other writers.
We all think about the same things, because once
in our life’s we all go through the same situations.
We all have the brain to create anything in our heads.
There’s nothing that i can't do if i focus and if i
don't focus; “you see” this word- focus is meaningful
in some ways, we need the focus, but in poetry we
need more the fantasy in our thoughts, the meaning
to our words, focusing can be important, but if your
head is not in the mood, there’s not going to be any
words bubbling up, even though you don’t need it so
much, because you can create a poem out of anything.
There’s one thing about writing, and reading poetry,
understanding the meaning behind the words.
Every word or phrase has a meaning behind, this is
where readers need to understand; for example-if i'm
drinking away my sorrows, it can mean, crying my
heart out, it can mean, i need to forget, it can mean,
a big hangover, it can mean, sleeping out in the porch,
it can mean, forgetting all you did last night; how many
things out of a phrase. Right know I would just like
to be in my cabin and sit right in front of the fire-place
with a bottle of wine and enjoy my pastoral life while
i write, amazing things.

poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Alone was a lot and a lot and a lot of standing and sitting and walking and running and it was physically demanding but in this, I'm doing back flips and riding ostriches. It's physically demanding in a new way, so it's fun.

quote by Alex D. Linz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concepts of Success

If you are stressed,
And at times depressed!
With thoughts self defeating
From a beating you digest.
Perhaps you should relax!
Give your mind a rest!
Chances are you suffer...
During thoughts 'infested'
With concepts of success!

Let go of comparisons,
To others and what they have!
Chances are everything they own
Is rented, leased with or without...
Something that keeps them feeling sad!
If you are happy and glad,
To be just who you are...
Your star shines much brighter,
Than those pretending they are better
Than anything you 'really' are!

Concepts of success,
Can distract someone who is blessed!
Many have not achieved that at all.
And they spend much time...
Trying to keep hidden a mess,
Kept concealed in their hearts...
For fear of sharing with you,
What they are too afraid to confess!

They are locked into images...
And spending every waking moment,
Doing their best
Wishing to impose
An impression they are hoping,
Remains in the minds exposed...
To trinkets that are flaunted,
With price tags still shown on clothes!
And there are so many of them,
'High and fixed'
Blissed to sit with lives committed...
On an ego overdose!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Void

As if my inner sound was demanding
take me for
meiosis;
I want to break into many daughter things.

Half my genes
half my color
partly male
partly female
disowning the boundaries,
my lasting pain of grief and anguish
becomes an androgynous god.

I hear the voices in brain
I see the nebulous thoughts dancing
I touch the fallen tears
from faceless eyes.

All my thoughts are leading to void
coming from nowhere
going to nowhere,
I am water and I am sand!

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If interstellar travel is as time- or energy- demanding as the above figures indicate, it is far from obvious what the motive for colonization might be.

quote by Barney Oliver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New York's Dilemma

Out on the streets of New York,
The first appearance of morning,
A preliminary warning
That a new day has begun
While my expectations rise high
As numbers filter through my mind,
Avenues and streets become a network
When studios and skyscrapers somehow
Coincide to take me anywhere
When my heart desires...

Weary faces passing through
The cross-road of the world,
Holding frozen thoughts and muted words,
In the very heart of Times Square,
Some looking happy or tired,
These faces are clear signs
And must be read quickly
To learn their story hidden behind
Or absolve their tiredness or vitality...

I hold my head down
So as not to give myself away,
Relieved to be among strangers
Who do not understand-so readily,
The natural disturbance
Of my presence-or the glance
That permits no admittance...

Practical concerns I put off for a while
For this is the right place
Though I have arrived a bit late
To capture the original chance
To be myself at a glance...

Here-is no more crowded
Than anywhere else
When the greatest pressure
Is a throng of questions
That elbow me alone in a room,
Watching my every move
As anyone I ever knew
Was constantly demanding:
'What do you do? '...

Here I am, always rushing and late
And always in the same place,
Frozen in time and space,
Boundaries I can no longer delineate
When I am daily struggling with my fate...
This is the dilemma of New York,
Honestly expressed my dear folks,
The reality everyday I must face...

©All Rights Reserved-2011

poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I hope this series is good work, but it is in the half-hour medium, which is limited to a kind of mediocrity that sponsors are just dying to have right now, and the public, for some reason, is unconsciously demanding.

quote by Jackie Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Stunning Mystery Companion

What with all my expectations long abandoned
And a future I no longer saw my hand in
How I found you is beyond my understanding
My stunning mystery companion
I know that you don't want to be
Out here forever on this road
Or live among the boxes
Where all my past lives have been stowed
Maybe you're thinking of someplace
With a garden by the sea
Where we could slow down
And you could put a little more work in on me
What with all my expectations long abandoned
My solitary nature notwithstanding
You're the one who pulled me
Out of that crash landing
My stunning mystery companion
Right now I can't quite remember
The cause of all my tears
I hear you laughing and somehow
The past just disappears
Maybe you were joking when you said
You'd take me for ten years and no more
Maybe you've had the best of me
But you could take another ten years and be sure
What with all my expectations long abandoned
And a life that just gets more and more demanding
There's no doubt that you're the reason I'm still standing
My stunning mystery companion

song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most Writers

Most writers 'twould seem have moments of self doubt
But they never go short of things to write about
And to become a top writer of one a big ask
And to succeed as a writer for many seems too daunting a task.

Most writers do not write for wealth or for fame
And despite lack of success they pen on just the same
For every one hundred thousand writers perhaps one writing millionaire
Amongst the ranks of the wealthy the writers are rare.

Few writers can hope for to scale success height
For the love of writing they only do write
Few writers get published and fewer know of success
But in their writings on paper their thoughts they express.

Most writers will never know wealth and renown
And they are not even well known in their own Hometown
They never will be known beyond their home shore
They write for the love of it and little more.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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