Those Doors Of Those Candy Stores Are Closed
Gone to distance are those days,
Allowed for some people...
To insult the ones,
Of charitable ways.
Gone also...
Is that catering done,
To those with childishness displayed...
With a thoughtlessness exposed,
Publicly in front of everyone.
And packed and gone,
Are roommates who debate...
Their selfishness in stale relationships.
Those who have arrived,
To prize their maturity...
Are not putting up,
With any of this nonsense.
Because,
Number one...
No one has to.
Not me or those selected few who choose.
And...
Number two?
That will be done in the bathroom.
Not all over the place.
Or,
Accepted to be thrown in one's face!
Today?
Not too many people are tolerating,
'Stuff'...
That comes to deliberately,
Stink up...
Their choice to live quiet and peaceful lives.
Gone to distance,
Are those days...
Allowed for some people,
To insult the ones...
Of charitable ways!
Those doors of those candy stores are closed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Poverty
Growing day by day even than everybody insult me,
but i never insult anyone this is in my nature.
Biggest irony with me that everyone keep distance
from myself but majority of people fail to keep distance
even philosophical people try to attach me with those
who really hate me and success is there motto in life.
Certain people try to show kindness in different way
toward me, but i need solid action instead of kindness.
I am root of majority of evil exists in this world.
Some intelligent people try to define in line
there effort did not yield any positive result.
only selected people win over me.
Why majority of people fail to... win over me?
I am your own.......poverty.
poem by Ajay Srivastava
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Number One
Honesty is often admired.
And in privacy...
Those known to be that way,
Are more than welcomed.
But an honesty admired,
That becomes publicly outspoken...
Around others unfamiliar with it,
Can stun them and have them run.
Most people rather not be shown,
Associated with it.
Most people collectively,
Choose to be accepted.
And today no one wants to feel shunned.
Knowing until an approval of honesty,
Has yet to be done.
Since currently dishonesty for many is number one.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Examined From A Distance
When people fixed with allowed stubbornness,
Have gone overboard...
Inflicted with too much attention given,
While feeding their minds on poisonous adulation...
There will be those assisting without resisting this.
And as accessories refuse an active involvement,
Labelled to be seen but not apologetic.
There is a supporting of needs being fed to feed,
A mindlessness bent beyond control.
And remaining as ignorant as possible...
With senses numbed and flowing into engulfing seas.
And determined...
To supply whatever it is that is wished as a need,
In an atmosphere condoning betrayal and treason.
Deliveries done to quiet the dictates...
Of those spoiled with a getting sought,
With a vicious disregard for dignity and composure.
The soothing of a monster,
Becomes the number one priority!
When people fixed with allowed stubbornness,
Have gone overboard...
Inflicted with too much attention given.
Fantasizing on an achieving of fantastic outcomes...
Seems not to be in the arena,
Where truth and honesty frequently perform....
With every bat of an eyelash examined from a distance.
To that one who is...
Examined from a distance,
This can't be fun.
To be done and this witnessed,
Where can one run...
When it's done.
When it's done.
To be one that's afflicted,
Where can one run...
When it's done.
When it's done.
Examined from a distance,
This can't be fun.
To be done and this witnessed,
Where can one run...
To be one that's afflicted,
Where can one go...
When it's done.
When it's done.
There is a supporting of needs being fed to feed,
A mindlessness bent beyond control.
And remaining as ignorant as possible...
With senses numbed and flowing into engulfing seas.
Examined from a distance...
With senses numbed!
And flowing into engulfing seas.
Where can one run...
To be one this afflicted?
Where can one go...
When it's done.
When it's done.
Examined from a distance!
With senses numbed and flowing into engulfing seas.
Examined from a distance!
With senses numbed and flowing into engulfing seas.
Examined from a distance!
With senses numbed and flowing into engulfing seas.
To be one this afflicted?
Where can one go...
When it's done.
When it's done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seven
I forgot what my father said
I forgot what he said
I forgot what my mother said
As we layed on your bed
A city full of flowers
A city full of rain
I got seven days to live my life or seven ways to die
I forgot what my brother said
I forgot what he said
I dont regret anything at all
I remember how he wept
On a bridge of violent people
I was small enough to cry
I got seven days to live my life or seven ways to die
Hold my face before you
Still my trembling heart
Seven days to live my life or seven ways to die
The gods forgot they made me
So I forgot them to
I listen to their shadows
I play among their graves
My heart is never broken
My patience never tried
I got seven days to live my life or seven ways to die
Seven days to live my life or saven ways to die
Seven
Seven
Seven
Seven
Seven
Seven
Seven
Seven
Seven
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shifting Images
Remember when mean spirited people,
Told their ethnic jokes.
And those within listening distance,
Would repeat them and laughed...
As they undermined and disrespected,
While poking at those 'other' folks.
And remember those days,
People felt safe to offend others.
As if they were entitled,
To proclaim publicly their druthers.
As some around them quietly endured,
And suffered.
Remember when people were hired to window dress?
To give an impression an acceptance was 'allowed'...
Although uncomfortably addressed.
And remember when it was expected,
Those with their noses turned up in the air...
Would climb on their high horses,
And remain forever there!
Remember when mean spirited people,
Told their ethnic jokes.
And those within listening distance,
Would repeat them and laughed...
As they undermined and disrespected,
While poking at those 'other' folks.
Remember when Roger Miller sang:
'England swings like a pendulum do,
Bobbies on bicycles two by two.
Westminster Abbey the tower of Big Ben.
The rosy red cheeks of the little children.'
That song was written in 1965.
The same year I decided to join the military.
It was considered to be a 'country' song then.
Filled with playful and innocent cuteness.
Today?
It just seems like an ironic satire,
With several shifting images.
No one these days,
Seems that inspired to acquire.
Note:
'Thank you, Mister Roger Miller'
Composer/Singer
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Preferred As Protective Devices
In unfortunate ways these days,
People are allowed to betray themselves.
And with validation...
From those they declare as friends.
With a shallowness sought and received from them.
Today few have close friends.
Too many are accustomed to dishonesty.
And truth is disbelieved.
Even some find the mention of it offends.
Delusions are preferred as protective devices.
And when visions becomes blurred,
People seek actively deception as advice.
Only to complain to others what they've heard...
About their depressed and troubled lives.
Leaving that wide of a gap in their minds.
And finding it convenient to wallow away in grief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Separate Lives
Eric woolfson - lead vocal
Its been a long road
Weve walked the last mile
We reach the same conclusion
And we stop for a while
Together we know
The way we must go
Were leaving an illusion
Thats for us to share
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
We share the same thoughts
We read the same lines
We meet on sad occasions
And in happier times
A spoken goodbye
And both of us try
To walk away in silence
Thats for us to share,
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
And always goodbye
But heaven knows why
I cant erase the memory
Thats for us to share
Only for us to share
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My School Days
Now-a-days where is that cheer,
unless i call up friends to have a beer,
Just like mist gone we are apart in many ways,
But where are my School days.
Now-a-days where is that enthusiasm,
for i bump into people with only sarcasm,
we sail world over on a ship,
unsuccessful even to strike a good friendship,
We have indeed drifted in many ways,
But where are my School days.
Now-a-days where is that laughter,
I hear just laughs to flatter,
true friends were those who where just there,
to say 'Hey we really care'
Scattered are we in many ways,
But where are my School days.
We are born with faces,
and now with a 'book',
we are now connected in many ways,
Where i come to cherish my School days.
poem by Deepak Calyampoondi
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Nouveau Loose of Caboose and Off Track
Unmistakable truths,
Are cropping up like pop tarts...
To munch on like a snack,
These days.
Wisecracking 'misfits',
Are more than welcomed...
To join in with the foray.
Displayed on any corner in view.
It seems as if a major shift in consciousness,
Has upon us arrived.
And people are scambling to identify,
With something tangible that is recognizable.
Like...
Those various versions of normalcy,
And...
The rarely used common sense.
Unmistakable truths,
Are cropping up like pop tarts...
To munch on like a snack,
These days.
Wisecracking 'misfits',
Are more than welcomed...
To join in with the foray.
Displayed on any corner in view.
And the nouveau riche,
Find themselves joining forces with those poor.
Since all are welcomed through these doors...
These days.
And in these times we live.
It seems as if a major shift in consciousness,
Has upon us arrived.
And people are scambling to identify,
With something tangible that is recognizable.
These days.
Like the absence of delicious gossip.
You know...?
The kind that baits magnetic ears,
Closer to listen!
We 'must' christen these days,
And the people crazed in dazed amazement:
Nouveau Loose of Caboose and Off Track!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Let People Have Their Evil Ways, Not I
Let people say whatever they may say;
Let people spread rumors, white lies of me;
Let people sin whether by night or day;
I want to tread God’s way most righteously!
Let people laugh a hearty laugh of scorn;
Let people mock and ridicule my ways;
Let people live by stealing others’ corn;
I want to spend most truthfully my days.
Let people live in vices if they wish;
Let people commit mortal sin each time;
Let people hate others and them ravish;
I want to make my life always sublime.
Let people lose their chance of seeing God;
By accident too, I shan’t Him defraud.
poem by John Celes
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Do any of you know
A man and a woman
Came to my place one evening
I was playing with my dad
In the lawn in front of my home
These people got down
From the car
And my dad helped them
Unload a number of luggages
They approached me and
I was able to recollect
I have seen them somewhere
But quite long back
Not an issue
They were all kind to me
And they missed not an opportunity
To hug me and hold me on their shoulders
They did a lot to my mom
Especially while she was feeding me
As I was fussy about eating
They were with us for long
I started enjoying their company
And there were a number of evenings
When my mom and dad
Would silently disappear
Leaving me under the care of these visitors
I developed intimacy with them
They, for that matter, enjoyed
Taking care of me
I used to even feel that
These guys are better than my parents
These elderly people
Never scolded me nor threatened me
It looked to me they love me
The same way my parents do
Gone a number of days like that
I am in comfort
With all the love, care and attention
Of my mom, dad and these people
Despite repeated training
And insistence from my parents
I was not able to call these people
Grandma and Granpa
These people accompanied
me and my parents
Wherever we went in my dad's car
One fine day
There was a lot of discussions
Between all the elders at home
And there were preparations
As if some people are going somewhere
We all boarded the car
With huge luggages
And my dad was driving
We reached a place
These luggages were unloaded
I was put in a stroller
And the elderly woman
Left the scene pushing me in my stroller
And the other visitor
Came along
A number of things happened
I just then noticed
None of my parents
Went with us
It is now a week's time
I have not seen my dad or mom
But I hear them talking to me
Over the phone or the computer
It is sure I am not going to see them
For quite some days to come
Why worrying or crying
Over the absence of my parents
I am now settling with these visitors
Who took me away from my parents
But for what purpose
I do not know yet
Why me to be separated
From my mom and dad
Do any of you know
helping my mom
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Choose to Live Life
IF is more 'is' today than ever.
There is no quiz about it now.
And doubts once allowed are gone.
Believe it.
And become doubt free.
It is there in your face.
With nothing else to replace it.
Wishing it would go away...
Fades with a reality that stays,
Unerased!
With traces of pain...
To frame delusions.
Believe it.
And become doubt free.
Choose to live your life.
Yesterday,
Those easy daydreams came.
Sweetened with weekend escapades.
To leave behind a week,
Of those scheduled committments.
You sought to meet and keep.
Now a seriousness appears.
To reminisce those things done...
As dropping teardrops come to some.
Choose to live your life.
IF is more 'is' today than ever.
There is no quiz about it now.
And doubts once allowed are gone.
One must choose to live life!
No longer can anyone afford to sacrifice time...
To appease the whims of others.
Especially if they are in debate...
Discussing the value of your fate.
Choose to live life...
With a happiness sought without 'things'.
Or a happiness someone promises to bring.
Choose to live life!
Your life!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past Tense Quick and Imminent
She may be tough,
With the right stuff.
But those viewing from afar...
Aren't quite ready,
To leave their door ajar...
For a woman to mandate,
What for centuries has from women been barred.
She may be strict,
With dictated wishes to end conflicts!
But those accustomed,
To sit on thrones only men condoned...
Are not going to have none of it!
And what she may represent...
Is an illusion that will not confuse,
Barons in control...
Who expect women to do as they are told!
Only one man selected can cool tensions mixed.
And 'if' people were wise,
That man they will pick.
To stop a declining power...
From becoming a past tense quick.
What happens within closed doors on isolated shores...
Is not the reality,
For those of true rule!
Who are prepared to turn their backs,
And leave all nonsense adored ignored!
These are not the days,
To praise a propaganda raised!
A tone of truth...
Comes to cement those of straying ways.
Fantasies have reached their limits.
And those unbelieving will discover this is imminent!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Selfish Contradictions
If people are not able to 'see' things
From an expected adult point of view...
Who is responsible for that?
Who held them back from this process?
And why in adulthood...
Their childishness reacts.
It is clearly not attractive.
And those who allowed this lack,
To appear in childish ways.
Did not teach them to reach comprehension...
With a complete understanding,
As immaturity was displayed.
Many will never wake up to 'see'.
No matter who shouts.
Or points this ignorance out.
And others who have been awakened so long,
Have felt the obligation,
To state what they felt to them was then wrong.
And brought that to someone's attention.
They made it a need for it to be mentioned.
A self centeredness was condoned.
In and outside the home.
And this did not end for them.
Resulting in selfish contradictions...
Of what is expected.
Yet reflects upon that,
Which has been neglected!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I think in some ways we have allowed other people to set the agenda. Other people to define who we are.
As If Waiting To Be Revenged
There is something about being disrespected,
That cements itself in one's mind to stay.
As if waiting to be revenged.
No matter who pretends a forgiveness has been given...
As if one's approval has been voted upon to be accepted.
By those who participated in the disrespecting.
The one disrespected does not forget.
And the culprits aren't quite sure,
If their deeds done have been remembered.
But if anyone has been singled out for mockery...
Well,
The odds they will remember being ridiculed,
Are pretty much one sided.
And those who have been 'stung' by people like this,
Do not awaken as if overnight they are excited and prepared...
To be in the presence of those whose minds have been rehabilitated.
I could care less how many scriptures are quoted.
And the recent donation of their charitable ways.
A conscious attack made upon another.
Is an attack upon another that was made consciously.
Say that any way you please.
If anything,
New tactics have been learned that has sealed one's identity.
And one's dignity maintained is never compromised,
By those wishing to make other people miserable.
And there is nothing like watching people like that,
Do that to themselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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But I would never insult the people that love this music and I would never insult the blessing of music in my life and I would never insult myself by playing uninspired music.
quote by Ben Harper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are millions of ways for people to die, if you number each vital organ, each ways it can fail, all the poisons from the earth and the sea which can cause these failures.
quote by Steven Brust
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cynical Days
Another years gone by,
The worlds grown older,
Sometimes I heave a sigh,
People grow colder.
Every day I do my best to show,
I can make it in this world I know,
But all the bad thoughts that people bring,
My faith in human natures
Getting pretty thin.
Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through, these cynical days.
Another see through scheme,
People are shallow.
The dark nights closing in,
My dark thoughts follow.
I try and make my world a better place,
(my efforts seem in vain),
But Im competing in a human race,
(falling deeper down the drain),
That value things that just dont count,
Makes me wonder what its all about.
Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Cynical days.
Cynical days.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: The Vanity of Man
The world is changing very fast indeed,
And things are worsening all the more each day;
And people gloat in vices, sin and greed,
All thinking worldly-wise in his own way.
Stage one wants to protect his own dear skin,
And wants to throw his faults onto others,
Washing publicly his dirty linen;
The honest man suffers but who bothers?
But watches God the wily creatures- men;
He moves His chess pieces rather slowly;
New doors to righteous men, He does open;
He will punish the evil ones, surely.
Some people will not ever change their ways;
But God has numbered their remaining days!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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