The Probe of Ripping Critics
Block me from your view,
From your sight if you have to!
Will I still exist...
To express myself like this?
I didn't wait for you to discover,
Where I find 'myself' coming from.
In fact,
You are now where I've been...
At a beginning,
A place I have worked hard to ascend.
And what I do has always been exposed,
Right in front of you...
And those with a gossiping nose!
And blocking 'this' part of what I do,
To get me away from you...
Doesn't change 'me' at all.
Since I've been blessed and gifted...
Whether or not you were here,
Or even if 'you' existed!
I'm not waiting for you to approve of me,
Like others that you have 'done' and 'do'.
I am here being the 'me' I am!
And you are a fool,
If you think my purpose...
Is to focus my time wasted here,
Just on you!
And let me say this,
Before you begin to 'trip'...
I've been blessed to be given,
Many other 'gifts'!
Some of which have withstood the blows,
Of bored yawning audiences...
And the probe of ripping critics!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Going To Find That Time To Be Available
I find I remain available,
For that which I am blessed to get done.
I don't sit and find excuses to express my gifts.
Nor hesitate to create...
With both curiousity and gratefulness appreciated.
I find I remain available,
For that which I am blessed to get done.
I feel that which I am able to get done and do...
Is an obligation I have chosen to devote and love.
And I am going to find that time to be available!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Them To Use The Back Door
About time I get some judgmental critics.
I was beginning think that maybe they didn't exist..
'And why would you think that? '
Because I've been writing on here for a good while, and their hasn't been one negative comment or vote.
'And how long is a good while? '
'Anyways why are you complaining? '
Well I'm not now..
I'm happy somebody told me my poem sucked..
'Really your happy to know that? '
Yes and please send more.
Just remind them to use the back door.
'Why? '
Because the front one is now broke.
'Okay I see how did that happen? '
Because I got 3 out of 10.
'Oh I thought said you were happy? '
Yes I am because now I can them coming without anything obstructing my view.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Choice Is to Make History
I'm one to adventure life.
Accepting it as a process.
I feel blessed to be granted it to bloom, flourish and grow.
Seeking purpose.
And when that purpose is fulfilled,
It then is time to move on!
Like each season that acknowledges the next.
Never to overstay a visit!
I too have those same wishes.
To remain unchallenged,
I know is not my mission.
And as long as I am blessed with my life,
I will seek the unknown.
To uncover it.
To leave behind for someone to discover I existed.
My choice is to make history.
Not relive it!
At times it can become uncomfortable.
But no learning I've ever achieved,
Came easy.
Or resulted from a path cleared of obstacles.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sensations
I am always 'here'...
Like the consciousness,
Keeping me aware!
With a vision clear.
I am not one,
To select fast exits.
Or seeking just fun!
Like the choice made by some.
I am not that kind...
To take for granted my 'gifts'
The ones that God has blessed me with!
To be part of this creation is bliss.
Especially when time is not mine to define!
I am here to accomplish.
I am here to succeed.
I am not here to stunt my growth...
Like some I see drifting,
As if tumbleweeds!
Always 'here' it appears.
And my purpose is clear,
As I reach to do my best!
Feeling blessed and tested,
On the path I walk...
Sometimes I am faulted,
But never do I think to halt!
Or rest,
To contemplate burdens,
Laid upon my chest!
I am always 'here'...
Like the consciousness,
Keeping me aware!
With a vision clear.
I am not one...
Teased by temptations that come.
To select fast exits.
Or seeking just fun!
Like the choice made by some.
Those who find they must stay on the run!
I am not that kind...
To take for granted my 'gifts'
The ones that God has blessed me with!
To be part of this creation...
Is my bliss,
That anoints me with sensations that fit!
With an understanding,
Of why I am allowed to be here.
To exist as I do...
Knowing the 'who' of me like this!
And with God beside me,
To assist me through!
Being here in the now...
Is the mood I choose!
I am always 'here'...
With God close to me near!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting For Waiting's Sake
Waiting is more of a feeling than a state or being
When you wait it's not really time spent that weighs on you
IT's really the purpose or reason and the place you wait too
Waiting never is waiting even when it's 5 or 10 or 20 hours or more
It becomes waiting when you feel impatient
When you feel you can no longer wait
That is truly when you being to wait
And wait for waiting's sake
It always seems like more minutes more time
More time is what makes it weigh more, but it's a change
In emotion basically an enigma
It is not even what you do as you wait
If anything at all, it strangely is just the
Feeling. Consider when you simply stare at the
Clouds for hours, you wait and wait
Watch the clouds' gait
But not even a minute passes not in your mind
Not any second is wasted of left behind
But waiting 2 simple minutes is waiting
When you let emotions take hold
Even asked to wait another second is brazen and bold
So you see it is only that emotion
Only that feeling, desire for resolution and restitution
It's funny how we are not controlled by
States or circumstances
Mere happenstance
But rather we are controlled by character, emotion, our feeling
No state of the world can change them
It is only when
We allow our perceptions to change, it is only then
Circumstance even affects us, it only happens when we let it
And so I say when we wait and don't feel waiting
It is not waiting at all, no matter how much time
I realize I feel nothing, no sense of waiting not when I rhyme
I lose perception of time and so I have unlimited time
To write and write and write each and every single
Time I wait and even I wait for waiting's sake
poem by David Knox
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Not A Wasted Search
Being blessed to know who it is I am,
And not be disappointed...
With each step taken to probe further,
Into a depth accepted...
Blemished and flawed.
Has helped me to self examine.
And being blessed to know who it is I am,
Has not been a wasted search.
Grateful I am to be identified.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Blessed Am I
How blessed am I for being born
Of parents good and God-fearing!
How blessed am I for siblings nine
Who made my childhood truly great!
How blessed am I for being made
Handsome and healthy, fair and hale!
How blessed am I for gaining ken
And virtues, wisdom, fortitude!
How blessed am I for being reared
So well by parents dutiful!
How blessed am I for achievements
Quite praiseworthy in life on earth!
How blessed am I for having fared
So well in life in every field!
How blessed am I for talents, gifts
That most men cannot dream to have!
How blessed am I for miracles
That gave my life a newer lease!
How blessed am I for finding time
To thank and praise the Almighty!
How blessed am I for grace of God
That goads me on in heaven’s road!
How blessed am I for everything
God gave me amply in His time!
How blessed am I for love of God
That chose me to be Christian!
How blessed am I for hope and faith
That help me follow Jesus’ steps!
How blessed am I for poesy
That made my life stress-free, worthwhile!
How blessed am I for God’s with me
And I’m with Him in earthly life!
poem by John Celes
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The Luck of a Blessing
HA HA HA, just my luck...
I try hard to go one way, but God wants me to go another.
I thought this was the right choice, but He says choose again.
Nothing is ever easy when it's something worth fighting for,
but nothing is ever more harder when that same cause you'll die to protect
has stabbed you in the heart.
So I guess that's just my luck...
I am a person who knows many things, and the one thing
I do know is that things will never be the same-we all have to
except change rather good, or bad, its comes with the territory..... the territory of life.
But I guess luck has nothing to do with it,
but love is everything about it.
Focus not on the feeling, but on the person. He truly loves us through thick and thin,
even though some may not love Him back.
We love because he loved first-we suffer because he suffered
greater-and we live because He still does.
So that's my luck, the fact that I'm blessed.
No matter how the day goes I'm blessed.
No matter where in life He takes me I'm blessed,
and no matter who leaves me, whether it's a lover, friend,
or members of family, with Him I'm always so thankfully blessed.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Silence
better start talking to a wall
she doesn't talk to me at all
still no answer no matter what i say
but stil i wait for it all day
in the beginning we were great
i thought i found my soulmate
but your tearing my soul apart
a block of ice replaced my heart
why won't u let me hear ur voice
seems like u leave me no choice
with pain i say we have to part
and thanks for ripping out my heart
poem by Paddy Jansen
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Blessed Cats and Dogs
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
Causing the country to insist
What the blows are to the chest.
Why do little angels work so caressed?
Making the country to assist
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
My soldiers in the army are with a blood test,
Keeping lines and dictation as a checklist,
What the blows are to the chest.
Amazed by the brilliance of those in the contest,
Canine help became something to co-exist,
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
May service feed the animals of conquest,
Domestic keepers will arrive at their crest,
What the blows are to the chest.
We see, we know the animals are depressed,
May loving people take a goodness as a list,
What the blows are to the chest,
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Blessed
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit
Blessed is the lamb whose blood flows
Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on
O Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I got no place to go
I've walked around Soho for the last night or so
Ah, but it doesn't matter, no
Blessed is the land and the kingdom
Blessed is the man whose soul belongs to
Blessed are the meth drinkers, pot sellers, illusion dwellers
O Lord, why have you forsaken me?
My words trickle down from a wound
That I have no intention to heal
Blessed are the stained glass, window pane glass
Blessed is the church service, makes me nervous
Blessed are the penny rookers, cheap hookers, groovy lookers
O Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I have tended my own garden much too long
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Background
You wish to find something in my background,
To soundly pound into the surrounding ground?
I've tested and teased and experimented too.
There is nothing that I hide,
In my background from you.
In fact my honesty may be more than you believe.
Every hair on my butt has been inspected for all to see.
And I keep in shape...
Just in case,
I am dared to moon!
My dignity I pride.
With an identity I trust!
But if you must probe into my background...
You can begin with my butt!
I am told it is one of my assets.
And I know that when I strut!
Proud am I to be so blessed...
With an abundance of 'gifts'
I shared and love to give...
With a less expected arresting seriousness,
Some live to inhabit within limited exhibits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Each Have Gifts To Us Given
We each have gifts to us given.
God condones alone,
And blesses us with.
They can be shared,
But not transferred...
As if to bargain.
For something else preferred.
Some choose to dismiss those gifts,
For a seeking to find,
Something of value to define.
But everyone is blessed,
With a treasure chest.
And uncovering that to discover,
Is in one's frame of mind.
To eventually appreciate!
And for many this might take time.
With an unwinding that takes patience.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stung By Ego
They all lay claims
On talents they have.
As if to aim their comments,
Towards someone believed
To be ego driven mad.
But anyone who is blessed
With gifts.
Understand that God
Wants them to work the ones
They have been blessed with.
To sit around and just make claims...
Only proves and displays a laziness gained.
And anyone who is not stung by ego...
Knows this sometimes,
Is not only heaven but most times hell!
As others who have visions of fame...
Are asleep to awaken,
With talents and gifts 'they' may know
Worthy of showing to produce to tell.
But seem to have less time to apply them,
And more time to find flourishing lies that swell...
Their heads!
With embellishment to relish,
Instead!
As they raise their lips in conceit,
To flap well!
As they prop up their feet,
In front of a TV.
Sitting their behinds on spreading seats,
To snack and eat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All-Saints' Day (1867)
Blessed are they whose baby-souls are bright,
Whose brows are sealèd with the cross of light,
Whom God Himself has deign'd to robe in white—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they who follow through the wild
His sacred footprints, as a little child;
Who strive to keep their garments undefiled—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they who commune with the Christ,
Midst holy angels, at the Eucharist—
Who aye seek sunlight through the rain and mist—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they—the strong in faith and grace—
Who humbly fill their own appointed place;
They who with steadfast patience run the race—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they who suffer and endure—
They who through thorns and briars walk safe and sure;
Gold in the fire made beautiful and pure!—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they on whom the angels wait,
To keep them facing the celestial gate,
To help them keep their vows inviolate—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they to whom, at dead of night,—
In work, in prayer—though veiled from mortal sight,
The great King's messengers bring love and light—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they whose labours only cease
When God decrees the quiet, sweet release;
Who lie down calmly in the sleep of peace—
Blessed are they!
Whose dust is angel-guarded, where the flowers
And soft moss cover it, in this earth of ours;
Whose souls are roaming in celestial bowers—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they—our precious ones—who trod
A pathway for us o'er the rock-strewn sod.
How are they number'd with the saints of God!
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they, elected to sit down
With Christ, in that day of supreme renown,
When His own Bride shall wear her bridal crown—
Blessed are they!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Trinity Of Carnatic Music 2-Muthuswamy Dhikshitar
Blessed Yogi when blessed
Blessed was your cognizant mastery
To be blessed from the sacred depths
Devi Ganga to treasure you with Rama-Veena
Blessed later when the Lord of Tiruttani
Blessed was 'you' with your vibhakti kritis
To be blessed from the heavenly treasury
'GuruGuha' to treasure you in bouffant compendium
Blessed your sanskrit lexicon when blessed
Blessed Navavarna kritis blossomed in stacks
To be blessed then planetary nine in seven talas
Extended seventy two Kartas issuing varieties aplenty
Blessed your peripatetic journey when blessed
Blessed Amrithavarshini pattered driving drought
To be blessed you then to sing to Madurai Meenakshi
'Meenalochani Pasamochani'to board you of Her abode
Blessed scholar with blessed knowledge
Blessed verbarian, blessed musician
To be blessed is we O'Guru, by your soul
Devis and deities from your resort of music
poem by Indira Renganathan
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How Much More
How much more
Can a love be loved,
When that love that is given...
Is like none other?
How much time
Should one wait to find,
A love to discover...
That one is not restricted with
To exist within limits someone inflicts.
Unconditional is that love that lifts,
From minds not pre-occupied with it!
Or fantasized to pleasure and tease.
As something on a list,
Required as a prerequisite!
How much more
Can a love be loved,
When that love that is given...
Is like none other?
How much time
Should one wait to find,
A love to discover...
That one is not restricted with
To exist within limits someone inflicts.
Expectations and preferences,
Finds one living life with regrets and disappointments.
Dismissing one's looks,
As a book unread...
Yet accepting a physicality,
Without chemistry...
Delivers a reality!
How much more
Can a love be loved,
When that love that is given...
Is like none other?
How much time
Should one wait to find,
A love to discover...
That one is not restricted with
To exist within limits someone inflicts.
Or deal with a second hand romance...
Taking a chance,
That whatever isn't there...
May with time be forced to fit!
How much more,
Can one put up with this?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Like The Rain
Just like the rain,
That pours from the sky,
My love for you will never die.
Just like the rain,
That falls on the ground,
I will always be around.
Just like the rain,
That falls upon me,
I'm as happy as I could ever be.
Just like the rain,
With it's pure beauty,
It surely is a sight to see.
Just like the rain,
I can now see,
We were truly meant to be.
Just like the rain,
Sometimes warm and sometimes cold,
You make my heart, not break, but fold.
Just like the rain,
Beneath your feet,
Just come over here and take a seat.
Just like the rain,
Watch it with me,
So you can begin to see.
Just like the rain,
Who may always know,
That I need to stay, and never go.
Just like the rain,
Who knows what's in my heart,
It knows we should never be apart.
Just like the rain,
Please just stay,
And never go any day.
Just like the rain,
That descends from the sky,
Please, please just give me a try...
Just like the rain,
It doesn't last forever,
But it might if we're together.
Just like the rain,
I'm asking you,
When are you going to?
Just like the rain,
I cannot wait,
Until I'm finally in that place.
Just like the rain,
That's in that place in your heart,
When am I going to be that part?
Just like the rain,
That goes alone,
Am I going to turn into stone?
Just like the rain.
I'm waiting for you,
Waiting until you finally do.
Just like the rain,
That goes away,
Do you really want me to stay?
Just like the rain,
I want to know,
Should I stay or should I go?
Just like the rain,
Before that time is passed,
Why don't you just ask?
Just like the rain,
So mysterious to me,
You are just as much as thee.
Just like the rain,
I feel on my skin,
When will you let this relationship begin?
Just like the rain,
I cannot wait,
So come and ask me,
Before it's too late.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Point of View Expressed
Mellowed in a way no one would guess...
That stress, conflicts and disappointments met.
And beating unflavorable odds,
To squash surmounting tests.
Perhaps this is how an arrogance evolves...
To give the impression,
A point of view expressed...
Is the only one that is best!
Blessed and gifted,
With the right mix that blends...
A tempered outlook,
To defeat those challenges that begin.
With a struggle to survive,
Seemingly without end...
For them who thrive,
To keep a purpose inside alive!
Some ignore opportunities as chores,
And turn their backs away...
Instead of examining,
What is behind each door.
Frightened to respond to knocks...
And the meaning and purpose,
Goes for them once again...
Unexplored and stops.
Believing those who find their treasures...
Do it without frustrations,
And/or heartbreak to endure!
With nothing else to do,
But to review their stock!
In a contentment,
Which upon them dropped.
Not true say those...
Who have heard this before!
With bruises to show,
But choose to ignore!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gifted Ticket Taken
With a gifted ticket taken,
Anyone can go to places...
With a price already paid.
With a gifted ticket taken,
It becomes easier to get away.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
One will discover it's okay...
To get onboard,
And explore the unknown.
With a gifted ticket taken,
No one is bored.
Or feel they have ignored their trials.
Or chores expected to soothe with smiles,
Upon the faces awaiting to take full credit.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
All onboard...
Are ready to tour.
With a freeing off their backs,
Attractions carried that attacked.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
All onboard...
Are never bored,
With a freeing off their backs...
And with a sigh of satisfaction.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
Everyone can celebrate...
The patience,
It took...
To get that taste anyone can salivate.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
Everyone can celebrate...
The patience,
It took...
To get that taste anyone can salivate.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
Everyone can celebrate.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
Everyone can celebrate.
And with a gifted ticket taken,
Everyone can celebrate...
The patience,
It took...
To get that taste anyone can salivate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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