Thawed To Replay
So many desire a 'was' that had been,
To remain with events remembered.
Without those uncomfortable changes made.
To allow a stagnation...
Kept and frozen.
Only to be thawed to replay...
As if those days and times,
Have not from them faded away.
And those who still visit playgrounds,
From their distant and traveled past...
Are often offended by those who have aged,
Wishing to keep their paces moved forward...
With an accountability that speaks,
From a maturity that has been reached.
With a wisdom kept,
In a mind that does not betray.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wisdom
I've been accused of having wisdom.
And I smile and ask...
'When did that happen?
I felt like such a jerk in my past.'
I stumbled and fell,
Got up to fall again.
I wasn't afraid to make mistakes.
Nor did I have thoughts on my mind to win!
I wanted to do those things I was born to do.
I didn't listen much to anyone...
Who believed I was confused.
Since they had no clue of my desires...
I didn't feel there was anything I had to prove.
I've been 'me' all my life.
Who else could I be?
I've had some heartaches,
And suffered tremendously!
I've learned to forgive and let live.
A lesson I'm happy I have finally conceived.
I guess what others 'see' is a tolerance...
That came with a maturity.
I have had long bouts with immaturity no doubt.
And I've been wise enough not to let my flaws upset.
I've accepted who I am...
And eliminated regret.
I am not yet perfect.
Whatever that means.
However...
I am blessed that I am aging.
And still wishing to do my best.
If there is any wisdom attached to that...
Anyone is welcome to share it.
And we will both be amazed...
How a wisdom described as it is today,
Developed from events I thought were awful...
Mind altering and crazy days!
But...
I will accept your assessment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Distant replay morphs into instant replay, and future replay cannot be far off.
quote by John Thorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pageantries Of Ceremonies Done
The affects of a 'rite of passage' taken,
Should produce a noticeable growth...
Of a progress made.
But some rituals enforced are delayed,
By a maturity that seems afraid...
To move ahead with an expected responsibility.
And pageantries of ceremonies done,
Do not prepare one to comprehend or observe...
From previous examples anywhere that have been laid.
And yet these empty spectacles displayed,
Are just events to watch unnourished...
As another performance of expectation that aging will unlock!
Like graduating from one place with steps,
That should move forward...
Instead of a regress into a relapsing that stops.
With completions of routines that are witnessed,
But accomplishing nothing that has a meaning felt...
Or seen to be embraced as a progress that escapes stagnation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mull Of Kintyre
Mull of kintyre
Oh mist rolling in from the sea,
My desire is always to be here
Oh mull of kintyre
Far have I traveled and much have I seen
Dark distant mountains with valleys of green.
Past painted deserts the sunsets on fire
As he carries me home to the mull of kintyre.
Mull of kintyre
Oh mist rolling in from the sea,
My desire is always to be here
Oh mull of kintyre
Sweep through the heather like deer in the glen
Carry me back to the days I knew then.
Nights when we sang like a heavenly choir
Of the life and the time of the mull of kintyre.
Mull of kintyre
Oh mist rolling in from the sea,
My desire is always to be here
Oh mull of kintyre
Smiles in the sunshine
And tears in the rain
Still take me back to where my memories remain
Flickering embers growing higher and higher
As they carry me back to the mull of kintyre
Mull of kintyre
Oh mist rolling in from the sea,
My desire is always to be here
Oh mull of kintyre
Mull of kintyre
Oh mist rolling in from the sea,
My desire is always to be here
Oh mull of kintyre
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Natural Is A Blooming Done
Many have surpassed,
Those levels of thought...
They had in the past,
With others shared...
And remembered.
Natural is a blooming done,
That happens.
Changes of each season.
Come to leave,
And not to stay.
No one should feel offended,
By the occurrence of this!
But there are those who are,
Believing they have been dismissed.
And maybe they are!
Not understanding...
There is a naturalness the comes,
To everything that blooms to grow...
With a leaving that is done under the Sun.
Many have surpassed,
Those levels of thought...
They had in the past,
With others shared...
And remembered.
But...
There is a naturalness the comes,
With a leaving that is done...
Under the Sun,
That no one keeps to remain...
With a sameness maintained.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Still Between Maturity
It shouldn't.
But it does...
Sit,
Within my consciousness.
Grown folks.
Still between maturity,
And provoking childish sentiments.
They can't get over themselves,
Or events from those days...
Time has from them erased.
But there they remain,
Trying to change...
What is.
As if what isn't is there for them to relive!
To recapture to re-interpret their misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visions
Kaleidoscopic visions of you
Flash fleetingly or ride majestically
On the cusp of my mind
In a rush of disjointed pictures.
The stark bare bones of your life;
The sum of its days.
Its tricle of hours.
Held fast like an insect in amber
Marching to your hearts tattoo
To conjuror the past - a replay.
Half remembered conversations.
A touch, a taste and kisses
Butterfly light that tingled the soul.
Your bright eyes, soft hair.
Settling the past into focus.
A flash of colour.
That emerald green dress.
As you danced carefree and joyous
Like you skipped in and out of my life
Leaving only the echo of your laughter.
Until one day you were absent.
To become a pale memory
Leaving only secondhand images.
A faded photographs.
Living only in the memory.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Attempts Made To Prevent Change
A routine affixed to descriptions of stability,
Once depicted in overtures praised...
Has not strengthened aging to crumble foundations,
Built in days to glorify values and standards.
But has stubbornly resisted,
Against a flexibility these days lived...insist.
Time has proven,
Only that which is flexible sustains and endures...
With drastic adjustments made if needed,
Enabling innovative proactive actions consideration,
To continue forward with a pace that stays,
Current and updated to appreciate.
Reassuring those still left afraid....
That a future faced must let go of a grasp,
Wishing to maintain the relevance...
Of a quickly fading and dieing past.
And any attempts made to prevent change,
Will not or can it as is...in ignorance, forever last.
Reviewing to revisit and remininsce the past,
Would better serve a cost effectiveness...
If left to exhibit in museums.
Isn't that the purpose for them?
To visit and review what is on display...
Then to leave what has been exhibited when finished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Insecurities Not Faced
I am not into the hide and seek business.
No...
Not me.
I prefer to be confronted,
By those with wisdom...
And an experienced maturity.
Insecurities not faced,
And protected to defend...
Will not become my reason to feel,
I need to walk softly on eggshells...
Around those with emotions,
Hidden like children to prevent their tantrums.
I am not into the hide and seek business.
No...
Not me.
I prefer to be confronted,
By those with wisdom...
And an experienced maturity.
I try to stay away,
From those who thrive on delusions...
As a means to keep realities defeated.
I'd rather be around those who tell it like it is.
Than to hear from those who gossip about...
Who said what to someone else,
That offended and left them in tears.
It has been many aging years since I had been a kid!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Come To Go
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
They can be discussed on a daily basis.
Or ignored as they speed away.
These days that we have been given to witness,
Will be better off lived...
Then reminiscing how they were,
And what was done.
Too many will discover themselves lost,
In the things they once did.
And not prepare their minds for what comes,
With maintained faith and not delusions.
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited.
Especially when those changes made,
Aren't here to stay for anyone.
They come to go.
With no empathy shown,
To those who don't grow.
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited...
To live and adjust as they must.
Will discover all their beliefs,
Dusted.
These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
A letting go,
Is the best thing to do to experience growth.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What We Have Written Here
what we have written here
stays here and makes a carving
of a name.Yours and mine.
oh, there may be no use of them anymore
what is past is past and every verb
you have put in any line has
thawed like frozen cubes
turning into liquid, something that
describes us, we are past our age
of another year,
all these poems become nothing
but adjectives
simply stated, another part of speech.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode to Aashu
Ode to Aashu
O Ashu, My pen hesitates to record down,
You remain an experience in me to crown.
Those moments of prosperity we shared;
Are cunningly implore me like a mad.
Hands betray me to limit those experiences;
Indeed, it limits to feel the reverence.
Your widowed shelter, pines those blossoming;
I visited once after your knock of returning.
You may encounter millions of events there;
I wish, Be honest to the laments of here?
Remember that elegant statue that often infatuated me;
Gather that bold preview manifested in she.
She could tickle your hesitated desire;
But, never mingle fire with your perspire.
Never measure your silences there; who often mocks at the experience;
Always, treasure the experience that shocks our grievances.
Never betray your cunning there; who often welcomes shinning;
Always shine; even with out light in search of blossoming.
Never feel you are in Exile there, make your exile a hostile,
Always rhyme with your present; forget past events, all puerile.
Of course a taste of Joycian flavor; keep these buds healthy.
“Silence, Exile & Cunning” will make your path to the Acardy
poem by Tuna Biswal
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Shangri-La Hotel
A visit to Shangri-La Hotel,
To my lover's room;
A visit to Shangri-La Hotel,
Like the eyes of an elephant;
I want to be in everybody's shoes but,
My mind is bigger than my shoes.
Like a message to the blue bears,
Like amessage to the white bears,
Like a message to the black bears,
LIke a message to the brown bears,
Keep it clean and soft;
a simple life to the muse of love.
A visit to my lover's room,
I am always moving and i don't look back;
Forward ever!
A visit to my lover's room,
I am always moving without looking back;
Backwards never!
A visit to my lover's room,
I know my back could be crooked;
But, i always move on.
I will surely reach to the end one day,
Like a visit to Shangri-La Hotel;
Forward ever, backwards never.
There comes a time when all seems so lost but,
Don't give up on your dreams in this life;
Like a marriage in the rain,
I do have a lover to visit.
The visit of my lover's room is like,
A love song in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To marry in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To make love in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To walk naked in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To sing in the rain;
Life is like that at times and,
I have my mind on you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Memories Re-lived
For far too long now
I have been facing backwards
Fists clenched
Back turned defiantly
On my future and the unknown
Instead I choose to plant my thoughts
In warm late August afternoons
And days gone by
Under the watchful eye of the moon
I pore over memories
Like precious treasures brought up from the sea bed
Each time I expose them to my conscious mind
They become a little fainter
A little less real
Over and over I replay them
Wishing I could go back
My soul crys for the lost oppurtunities
And beautiful summer afternoons
But now, reluctantly,
I must leave those days to rest
Where they belong, in my past
And in my mind
I stand and leave
My love, my best friend and me
To laugh forever
In the August sun
poem by Kathryn Gardiner
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(Content Poem) Content
Even upon death those we care about the most are always remembered.
Even in the most harsh December the heart can only be temporarily frozen.
It will be thawed and reawakened.
Never will we settle for being forsaken.
Such elevation as the temperature rises.
Love becomes of a constant high.
Always content till the very end.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Getting Down and Funky, Staying Low and Earthy
The first time I made attempts,
To be mature and endure those who weren't.
In my neighborhood,
Of aging children.
My attempts did not work.
In fact they provoked those who chose,
To remain irresponsible.
And had not yet been introduced,
To accountability.
Something they accuse others for not doing.
You know.
Those and them,
Who are suppose to care about us.
More than we care for and about ourselves.
Those conversations are still used to convince,
The many loitering around playgrounds.
Seeking to play their familiar games.
Today with age and maturity experienced.
I come into contact with those refusing to make sense.
Those who believe life is a telling of an endless joke.
And laugh at the keeping of their insecurities hidden,
Behind masks that change with fashionable fads.
And I observe their children who are no longer 'kids'.
Many are limited to an ignorance lived.
And they are raising their offspring to disrespect.
As I witness those of us now elders.
Doing our best to break a sweat,
Getting down and funky.
Staying low and Earthy.
As if this is an investment we hand over to a future.
With expectations that a quality of life diminishing,
Will deliver us to a consciousness to grasp overnight.
There's not enough praying on knees that can be done,
To awaken those with nothing but time and lives to waste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Remember?
Sitting here for days,
Pen in my hand,
Where Oh where do I even begin?
Got you on my mind,
That's nothing new,
I'm stuck in a rut,
Please sun..shine down on me,
Let my true feeling spill out on the lonely blank piece of paper,
Writing your name across my wrist,
Seeing my veins appear,
So blue just like the ink above,
Baby remember all those times we've spent together,
Staying up so late just to talk to one another,
Phone calls lasting until 3am,
Remember all of our hugs, kisses, smiles, and laughter,
And even the hard times,
All the tears I've shed,
But you always seemed to be there,
Picking me back up,
Wiping my tears away each step forward,
I still remember that very first day,
That New Year's kiss...that felt like it lasted a life time,
While spending hours on end by your side,
In your arms...safe as ever,
Don't I just wish I had a replay button right now,
Though I can only look forward to the future,
So many more memories to make with you..my love♥
By; Brandi Dybala *2/17/11*
poem by Brandi Dybala
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Like You I Am A Human Too
I've made it clear I do not fear,
Obstacles appearing to be near.
Although I use to manifest a resistance,
With a distance kept persisted.
And my mind is not delayed,
To replay mistakes I've made.
Knowing that it took a lot to do,
Since like you I am a human too!
And at times I can get nervous...
With a purpose that I service.
But I don't allow my feet,
To freeze my movement in defeat.
Nor will I sit and brood,
Like any loser who excuses what they do!
I've made it clear I do not fear,
Obstacles appearing to be near.
Although I use to manifest a resistance,
With a distance kept persisted.
And my mind is not delayed,
To replay mistakes I've made.
Knowing that it took a lot to do,
Since like you I am a human too!
And I might boo-hoo,
But none will I do around you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Who Betray And Lament
At THIS hour of the day.
And with time allowed,
Over the years to slip away.
Someone sits not to forget or forgive,
Those who intentionally took steps to offend,
With a doing of it they went ahead to inflict.
And at THIS hour of the day,
It would not matter who said what to have what's been done...
Wished away,
To acknowledge what took place.
Since what took place can not be erased,
From the mind of the one this misdeed continues to sit...
Long after it was considered someone's fun!
And at THIS hour of the day...
Wishing for a way to turn back the clock,
To prevent what should not have happened...
To have it stopped and blocked from a doing,
Is not on the mind of the one who is visited with memories...
At THIS hour of the day,
When one witnesses images from a distance...
A payback paid to those who betray and lament.
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
And have nobody near them to hear their pleas!
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
And have nobody near them to hear their pleas!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I can't Rest even When I Sleep
I can’t rest even when sleep. My dreams are replays of my day. When I got up in the morning I saw my old man cuddling an empty bottle of E&J. While my mom lies with a bag of thawed frozen peas on her eye which she used when they were frozen to sooth the pain my drunken ass dad gave her when he slapped her. Then there’s lunchtime while everyone else was eating some form of fast-food I choked downed a dry piece of stale raisin bread and nuke warm public water fountain water. Dinner time hell lunch was dinner and as for prime time TV the only thing I saw on must see TV was my old man and mom fighting until dad passed out same channel, same time ever night. I can’t rest even when I sleep. My dreams are a replay of my day.