Thinking I Was There to be The Only One!
She enjoyed her men packed.
He enjoyed his women stacked...
And full of chested love,
Kept bared
But they were not demonstrative.
And no one ever strayed...
To betray what they had together.
Who gave what and why is the question.
And who learned what lesson from this?
'You all are being too delusional'.
She enjoyed her men packed.
He enjoyed his women stacked...
And full of chested love,
Kept bared.
Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,
And none to spare.
Mixed with preferences that are dated and timed.
These are new visions on the horizon,
Of my sunset?
And I'm a one on one kind!
With prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
And I'm thinking her kiss is for us.
When she has him and me on her mind...
For lust!
At the same time?
'Poppa don't arch his back for that! '
Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,
And none to spare.
And I'm thinking her kiss is for us.
When she has him and me on her mind...
For lust!
Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,
And none to spare.
She enjoyed her men packed.
He enjoyed his women stacked...
And full of chested love,
Kept bared
But for him.
Not for the whims she dared to expose.
I never thought I would think of her,
As a cheap 'ho'!
And There I stood.
Hiding in the bushes while another man,
Made her squeal louder than I could.
Louder than a man's man can.
Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,
And none to spare.
Thinking I was there to be the only one!
Thinking no one like me could do her.
'And then...
Like a miracle,
You found your ass awakened!
Right? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Trust
A word on my desk with dust
enough to leave some rust
Just a little dust on the table of our life
trust is just another word for little white lies
I remember the bliss of love
But also of lust
Given in faith for trust
Thrown away on a desk full of dust.
on a promissory note so clear
Even evil could not endear
so wrong my dear
you are dancing in heaven
while I am stuck here in hell
angels tell me of your bliss
your trust and mine
I do miss.
Remnants of a Ravenous Activity
Shallow are the crabs
Laying near the bottom of the heap.
Pinching and clawing those near the top!
Wanting more darkness.
Wanting the light shown to stop.
And rotten is the smell,
Preferred and enjoyed.
Tough of crust,
And a sting of venom.
In a barrel that's enjoyed.
To eat themselves and keep...
Trapped.
Devoured.
Until there is nothing left,
But remnants of a ravenous activity.
And scarred shells...
That have begun a rusting into dust!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prompted To Make Their Selections
If they were not pushed with insistence,
To have their druthers more defined.
And their preferences were not limited,
To confine them to prior choices made...
People would be quicker to choose happiness,
Over making impressions for others to approve...
Anyday and at anytime,
Without being prompted to make their selections,
From a list that had already been decided,
Were required prerequisites for the obtaining of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Complexity and Yet a Basicness
Complexity,
And yet a basicness...
Seem to be prerequisites,
For those who claim to have preferences.
Standards one likes,
To highlight and prioritize...
Are always ever changing,
As the skies are at sunrise.
And attitudes of those,
Who accuse others of a moodiness.
Are never consistent,
Or in a permanence that is totally set.
Being both flexible and able to bend,
Is the best outlook to have.
Especially if one is dealing with people...
Who are rigidly fixed in their judgements passed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Which Life Do You Live?
Most people are so unaccustomed to speak the truth.
For many of them...
This is all they know.
A tradition of sorts.
Passed through the family,
As common as gas is passed.
With each scent identified by the doer.
~Women 'poot' they do not fart! ~
Well...
I knew a few women who 'stank'!
And it didn't matter who 'pooted' or farted.
Or if that even made the difference.
For those of them who are like that!
~Focus.
Stay focused, please.~
And,
If they began to become forthright and honest...
Most people would lose their friends.
Jeopardizing relationships of all kinds.
And many of them would end.
~Like marriages?
Perhaps? ~
While others would lose complete identities.
Since those lives lived have been totally prefabricated.
~Why are you staring at me?
Which life do you live? ~
My own!
And without references.
Preferences, yes!
But...
Without references!
~Why are you staring at me? ~
'Cause you all up in my 'grill'
Like you belong in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Terrified I Am to Commit Again
I think of it and try,
Not to show how utterly terrified I am...
To commit again to unconditional love.
But it is without conditions and prerequisites,
I wish for it!
Maturity is there.
And my heart searches seeking.
But the act of it...
Stays a reluctant fixture in my head.
Suppose my love is actually shared?
And a committment I am afraid to receive,
Is dared by someone with devotion to spare.
Suppose the love I give,
Is returned without thought.
And I am aware,
What is there is no longer sought!
I think of it and try,
Not to show how utterly terrified I am...
To commit again to unconditional love.
And I do not want to appear to be fickled.
Afterall I am at the age,
Where the gray in my hair...
More than testifies I have lived nine lives.
And appearances have arrived,
To prevent denial without my lips to lie.
But I...
Do think of it and try,
Not to show how utterly terrified I am...
To commit again to unconditional love.
But it is without conditions and prerequisites,
I wish for it!
And I do admit,
I am seeking someone to convince me...
I am on that side of time,
When the ticking of the tock heard from my clock...
Is no longer energized by sustained youth,
On watch with anticipated patience.
I'm looking for an express delivery these days.
And willing to change if...if,
Well...
We'll see!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Under the Sunset Sky
Sitting under the sunset sky
Laying around I wonder why
You value me so much more
Than any other you’ve met before
Why you feel so safe by me
And no the others that you see
Sitting under the sunset sky
I find comfort and I sigh
Knowing all is well by you
Having peace in all I do
Watching my troubles fall away
Not wanting then back any day
Sitting under the sunset sky
When you’re sad I want to cry
Feeling you’re sorrow, hurt and pain
When it’s done, all for gain
Drawing away from the past
What’s done is done and shouldn’t last
Sitting under the sunset sky
Only thing to do is deny
The comfort found when we’re alone
Feelings around us never shown
If only to live for how we feel
Soon this love would we seal
Sitting under the sunset sky
Longing for you by and by
Can’t get you off my mind
All the reasons trying to find
Thinking so hard never to know
Why you might care for me so
Sitting under the sunset sky
Hoping you won’t chose another guy
To be the one, to live the life
That good men live, without strife
To be with you is my goal
Are you the match for my soul?
Sitting under the sunset sky
To be with you when I die
Would be the best of any dream
Looking around, you see me beam
I’ve found the one out of all
Now it’s done, this task not small
poem by Brian Potthast
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Shes Invisible Now
Takes a step back
From the vacant chair
Looking in the mirror
While shes combing her hair
Wipes the dust from a cup
While shes cleaning up
Wonders very slightly
What shes doing there
A simple reflection
Can be too revealing
Years are for counting
Years are for stealing
Shes a mathematician
Calculator
Counting daily
Counting forever...
Cold clean glass and a razor blade
Fly on the table and a passing car
Closes the curtain to keep in the shade
Closes her head and now shes counting down
Dust is collecting
But she doesnt notice
Counting for ever
Shes a calculator
No-one can see her
Shes invisible now
No-one can see her
And the dust is collecting
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intimately Or Not
No one I am with,
Intimately or not.
Will I permit myself,
To be shadowed...
With my being blocked.
I am meant to rise,
As if from the skies...
Sunlight appears,
To excite with delight...
And,
With a promise that shows clear.
I want and need to astonish.
Not fade away...
Behind a Sunset,
Forever remembered.
No one I am with,
Intimately or not.
Will I permit myself,
To be shadowed...
With my being blocked.
That is not on my list,
Of preferences.
Too many years,
Of dedicated discipline...
Has gone into 'this'.
With devotion and sacrifice,
I have enjoyed.
Not to carelessly be dismissed.
And it has been done,
At the expense of no one...
I want shunned.
But I have chosen in my life,
To love and share.
Not to initiate,
Assumptions to spare.
I want everyone to know,
I am there...
To give and take.
I will never be one,
To have my presence faked.
I want everyone to know,
I am here!
And I 'will' be there as well,
For anyone I share myself...
In a comfort both of us will dwell.
But I will not let it believed,
I shadow anyone...
To acknowledge that they lead.
Intimately or not...
My weight is my own,
To elevate, cast or seen to heave.
I want that known,
As my responsibility!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Is a Sickness
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,
Hey ho.
Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind,
Not well, nor full nor fasting.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,
Hey ho.
poem by Thomas Lodge
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Blood In The Boardroom
sitting in the boardroom
the I'm-so-bored room
listening to the suits
talk about their world
they can make straight lines
out of almost anything
except for the line
of my upper lip when it curls
dressed in my best greasy skin
and squinty eyes
I'm the only part of summer here
that made it inside
in the air-conditioned building
decorated with coporate flair
I wonder
can these boys smell me bleeding
though my underwear
there's men wearing the blood
of the women they love
there's white wearing the blood of the brown
but every woman learns to bleed from the moon
and we bleed to renew life
every time it's cut down
I got my vertebrae all stacked up
as high as they go
I but I still feel myself sliding
from the earth that I know
so I excuse myself and leave the room
say my period came early
but it's not a minute too soon
I go and find the only other woman on the floor
is the secretary sitting at the desk by the door
I ask her if she's got a tampon I could use
she says
oh honey
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Puddle Dive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not At All Publicly Gay
Believing to discredit him,
They would expose his sexual preferences...
And doing so would do him in!
But those of a higher consciousness,
Knew the difference between jealousy...
And a character assassination meant!
And the two 'men' pursuing these deeds...
Were often seen together,
Receiving compliments!
But they made it known they were not 'that' way!
They preferred to be 'down low'.
Not at all publicly gay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Soapbox Opera
I want to tell you something;
Listen to me,
Im trying to say, Im better than you,
I am only what I am
We must not stand still,
For the night is coming,
Every man, every woman and child,
Everybody help me
I hear, only what I want to hear,
But, I have to believe in something,
Have to believe in just one thing.
I said father washington, youre all mixed up,
Collecting sinners in an old tin cup.
Well, spare a listen for a restless fool,
Theres something missing when I need your rule.
Well ,hey there;
You tell me youre a holy man, but, although I am just a
Beginner,
I dont see you as a winner.
I said, sister robinson, youre all washed up,
Collecting teardrops in a paper cup;
If I could tell you what you need to know;
If I could tell you to get on with the show.
Id rather never leave her,
Theres a storm in my head,
Makes me hear what you say;
Just was it true?
So, what have I to do?
-well, what has he to do? -
+oh, what is there to-oo do+
What oh-oh-ohoh
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful, the lord God made them all
Mary, oh tell me what Im living for,
cause I feel like Im tossed in the river,
Oh have you a son to deliver.
I said, father washington, youre all mixed up,
Collecting sinners in an old tin cup,
You tell the children what they need to know,
But, will they listen when its time to go.
Oh, sister robinson, youre all washed up,
Collecting teardrops in a paper cup,
Can someone tell me what I need to know,
Can someone help me to get on with the show.
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touching Numbers
I was sitting alone at home
thinking about you
wondering what the heck
you were up to.
Are you sitting there alone
thinking about me…
wondering if I was in
someone else's company?
Have you found someone new
to give your affection…
are you stroking each other's palms
considering a connection?
Are you snuggling up close
and kissing him
the same as you kissed me
on my neck and chin?
Is your breathing deep and heavy,
does your heart pound,
are you truly happy now
that I'm not around?
I really hope you're there
thinking about me,
looking at our photographs
on your phone's memory.
Touching numbers, about to call,
thinking of what to say.
Maybe, should we meet up
in our favourite café?
I suppose I'm just a fool
for thinking like this,
dwelling on a lost love
and past happiness.
I have to face it, you're not
thinking of me at all.
A full day has just about gone…
should I make the call?
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Familiar and Reliable
Preferences enjoyed...
Does not make one less or better than the rest.
Something received, shared and expressed,
Are desires that best suit
Comforts of those who choose to satisfy tastes,
Familiar and reliable without thoughts to test...
Or digest in complexed explanations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Not Thinking
I am not thinking.
I do not wish to do it.
Nor am I feeling,
An emotion I can spare.
I am sitting here composing.
Smoking and sometimes dozing.
Without one wish to be profound.
Or communicate a depthness found.
I am typing on my computer.
Thanking God I have not been neutered...
I was seeking a rhyme at this time,
To end that line!
I am not thinking.
But my mind seems to be concentrating,
With this discipline it finds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thus, the more succinctly a train of thought was expounded, and the more comprehensive the unity of its basic idea, the closer it would approximate to the prerequisites of the mathematical way of thinking.
The Next Table
He must be barely twenty-two years old
yet I'm certain just about that long ago
I enjoyed the very same body.
It isn't erotic fever at all.
And I came into the casino only a few minutes ago,
so I haven't had time to drink very much.
I enjoyed that very same body.
And if I don't remember where, this one lapse of memory doesn't mean a thing.
There, now that he's sitting down at the next table,
I recognize every motion he makes -and under his clothes
I see again the limbs that I loved, naked.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Spare Me A Little Of Your Love
Written by christine mcvie.
Why not lie here in my arms
And listen to the night
You must know you have certain charm
And I feel the time is right
So spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Now I know that I feel much more
Oh in every single way
And its not the same as before
It gets stronger everyday
So spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Now I know how the sun must feel
Every time it shines
And now I know this is real
And I want you to be mine
So spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little (just a little bit)
Spare me a little of your love (of your love)
Just a little bit
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Full Catasrophe
Ive ridden down the sunset
Drank expensive wine
Ive been married two dozen times
Raised ten children on a workmans pay
And im glad to say ive enjoyed every day
Of the full catastrophe of life
Ive sat in courtrooms
Had people call me names
Ive been to london town
On a supersonic plane
I was lovin? your wife
While you were lovin? mine
And im glad to say ive enjoyed every day
Of the full catastrophe of life
Ive opened my belt to trouble everyday
Aint looking for a fight
But you know I wont run away
From the full catastrophe of life
Ive seen the goodness
Ive known the baddest around
I was tattooed when it first came out
I shook the hand that showed moses the way
And im glad to say ive enjoyed every day
Of the full catastrophe of life
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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