To Sell It In Pieces To Have It Sold
Once upon a time,
When I was just a young bud growing...
On the tree of life,
Blossoming with idealism.
And thriving with desire to have more Sun light,
Brighten to open my eyes even wider.
I had a wish to become wiser.
I had a wish to have it known,
I could express an intelligence.
Today,
My wants and needs are more simplistic.
I have only one wish.
And that's to have whatever it took to get,
My peace of mind...
Never to become noticed to be valued,
By anyone trying to buy it.
And I become foolish enough,
To attempt to sell it in pieces to have it sold.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Peace And Pieces
peace of mind and pieces of mind
easy to find and hard to define
peace of heart and pieces of heart
present when together and absent when depart
peace of love and pieces of love
happy if its true and sad if its bluff
peace of family and pieces of family
good when sharing and worst when breaking
peace of soul and pieces of soul
good or bad our deeds play a lead role
peace of world and pieces of world
its price less as it cannot be bought or sold
peace to sleep and pieces of sleep
relaxes when deep and breaks with even a beep
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
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Being Direct
I don't know if it was aging,
Or its process...
That increased my desire,
To ensure a peace of mind I found...
Stayed in place.
Or if it began creating itself,
Over time.
And I sought ways to prioritize,
Its importance.
But I will admit this,
The finding of it found...
Has today with me lived to exist.
And being direct is an added bonus,
That allows me to use my age...
To guarantee any nonsense from me stays away.
And this I have noticed...
Without one word from me to say,
I can raise just 'one' eyebrow...
To get my point across.
Either with a frown or a smile,
It does not seem to matter.
Only those who have experienced this,
Can appreciate the value and the benefits...
Of aging with a peace of mind.
And being direct to protect what one has,
To classify it as valued...
Seems to get more respect when one has clearly aged.
However,
There are some exceptions!
Those who do not seem to age gracefully,
Do appear to attract and nag with exurberance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Been There. Done That. Too Often
There is a reason why,
I do not express a desire...
To know what it is you think.
'What is it? '
I observe it around you.
And as of today,
You have never mentioned it...
As a priority or even a concern.
And you should.
'Why haven't you brought this to my attention? '
If what is obvious to me,
Has not yet dawned on your mind to see...
Why would you believe a wasting of my time,
Is on my agenda to get you to open 'your' eyes?
Been there.
Done that.
Too often.
Today?
My anger has developed into amusement.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Keep Close what You Treasure
Keep close what you treasure,
Snug to hug your chest.
An abundance of those who had their eyes closed,
With lost integrities...
Are on the prowl with confessions to profess,
A losing of money like a child of innocence.
And incensed they are with a bitterness,
About a wasting of their valued time.
They 'now' have discovered that to be precious.
With an envying of those who chose to live.
And not spend it on the worshipping of things.
To forfeit what a doing of that brings.
And time they want to take...
With a weeping done on shoulders,
To express their misery and heartache.
Don't let them sneak and take your peace.
Many who have sold their souls,
For a taste of baubles and bling.
Now today they say,
Those bright shiny things mean to them not a thing.
And approach with an encroaching,
To sneak away your peace.
With a luring to gain your empathy.
For purposes to steal it from your mind.
Since they have not a dime.
From a clawing to a top with a bursting bubble pop.
They find now that has left them flat,
On their behinds.
Don't let them sneak and take your peace.
Keep close what you treasure,
Snug to hug your chest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Splatters of Regained Hope
A rainbow fell down today
crashed into a million pieces
of rainbow light
and no one noticed.
There was Hope being
mugged quietly
but it was ok
because there was no scene;
so no one noticed
and that made it ok.
I am sure that all saw
Desperation Eyes
staring;
but you know
only so much of this can be taken;
after a while
it is not real
only a movie
on the TV screen.
Child Dreams
were checked out
of the Library
and marched
straight to the
Lost and Found
to Dream Orphanages.
Even the Black Crepe
we hang
cries.
So much there is to do
so much
to be done
to end the suffering:
might as well start at home.
I am committed this year
to Rain-Bow Repair.
I'll fix the Rainbow Pieces
making them into Stained Glass
and sell them everywhere
use the proceeds for
Hope victims who are wise
and can counsel others
to stay away from those
who mug our hopes
in alley-ways.
Desperate Eyes
can spot other
Desperate Eyes;
act as guides
back to Innocence.
I'll turn off the TV set
and go into my community
and deal with real people.
I know where the Orphanages are
and I know what to do.
I need to lighten up
my Black Crepe
maybe
with some Rainbow Colors:
Splatters of
Reclaimed Hope.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Burdens Are Not Eased
Those burdens are not eased,
With an increase of intelligence.
There is a sense of responsibility,
One of wisdom can not resist.
Eyes that begin to open,
See more not less.
And the wider that they open...
Everything begins to connect.
Those burdens are not eased,
With an increase of intelligence.
There is a sense of responsibility,
One of wisdom can not resist.
Or,
Wish away something witnessed...
That a heart can not forget!
Those burdens are not eased,
With an increase of intelligence.
The mind just finds another way,
To have these burdens appear...
As if they don't exist!
With other burdens to carry,
Those not carrying them would not expect.
Or accept!
One can hear them whine,
About everything they reject.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You And Me
Open up your eyes
See how life time flies
Open up and let the light back in
Open up your heart
Let the lovin' start
Open up and let the light back in
I was thinking of you and me
Makin' love beneath the tree
And now I wonder could it be
Thinkin' 'bout the times we had
Some were good and some were bad
Guitar fightin' the TV
I was thinkin' 'bout you and me
I was thinkin' 'bout you and me
I was thinkin' of you and me
I was thinkin' 'bout you and me
Lookin' at you just the other night
Dancin' in the evening light
True love conquers all
Old man sittin' there
Touch of grey, but he don't care
When he hears his children call
I was thinkin' of you and me
I was thinkin' 'bout you and me
I was thinkin' 'bout you and me
I was thinkin' 'bout you and me
Open up your eyes
See how life time flies
Open up and let the light back in
(Silver Fiddle Music, 1992)
Neil Young, Nicolette Larson
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When a Valued Peace Comes
When a valued peace comes...
So difficult it is to explain to someone,
The fading need to converse on the telephone.
The desire of experiencing nature walks alone.
The freedom enjoyed to be away from debate!
And people who seem to wait for the next argument.
When a valued peace comes...
So difficult it is to explain to someone,
How that feels.
Or the thankfulness appreciated.
It is as if the mind has healed,
From an unconscious self inflicted abuse.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All For A Friend!
I SOLD MY TENT TO BUY MY HOUSE!
I SOLD MY SANDALS TO BUY MY SHOE!
I SOLD MY HORSE TO BUY MY AUTOMOBILE!
I SOLD MY TROUBLES TO BUY MY PEACE!
BEHOLD! I WILL BE GLAD TO SELL THE CHURCHES AND BUY A TRUE FRIEND!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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A Man Young And Old: VIII. Summer And Spring
We sat under an old thorn-tree
And talked away the night,
Told all that had been said or done
Since first we saw the light,
And when we talked of growing up
Knew that we'd halved a soul
And fell the one in t'other's arms
That we might make it whole;
Then peter had a murdering look,
For it seemed that he and she
Had spoken of their childish days
Under that very tree.
O what a bursting out there was,
And what a blossoming,
When we had all the summer-time
And she had all the spring!
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Intrigued
Since I have gotten older,
And wiser with a wisdom...
That had begun to marinate in patience.
I hear and understand you,
And others quite clearly.
With a growing desire to comprehend.
Sometimes.
When the mood for it is ushered in.
Listening to others as I have done of late,
Gives me more of an appreciation...
As I welcome the aging process,
With acceptance.
Without feeling the doing of this,
Is something I must tolerate.
I love the fact I need not impress.
Or dress to meet someone's expectations.
Although...
Speaking my mind I find can offend.
Especially those still hiding,
Behind their pretensions.
Since I have gotten older,
And wiser with a wisdom...
That had begun to marinate in patience.
I hear and understand you,
And others quite clearly.
With a growing desire to comprehend.
And,
If I so choose...
I now allow my mind to drift with the wind.
To sit and stare without argument...
As if to give my full attention.
I've learned giving a nod or two in agreement does wonders.
I wish I had known this earlier in my life!
'Are you paying any attention to me? '
Of course.
Didn't you just see me nod my approval?
In fact...
I am so interested,
I was about to ask you to repeat what you just said.
I am intrigued and fascinated by the topic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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U16 Girls
I met a girl in LA
The million dollar kind
She was all for all or nothing
She was open all the time
But when I called her number
Her mother's on the line sayin'
You've no business
As God's my witness
With a child as young as mine
So make sure that she's old enough
Before you blow your mind
She may look like she knows enough
But look her in the eye
And if so
Let her go
You'll let her down in style
I met a girl in Paris
She talked like Vera Lynn
And her eyes were full of dew drop
The moment I walked in
She was awfully nice
The kind that likes to win
But if I'd been wiser
A whole lot wiser
Then I might have thought again
song performed by by Travis from Good Feeling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without Lip Or Sucking Of Tongue
Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And the length of time it took,
For anyone to notice my presence.
Although it was not my presence,
Or reason why...
That I began this journey to be noticed.
I was much too young.
Like a puppy first seeing its tail for the first time...
And curious as to where it came from.
Who knew?
I didn't!
Until I began following an attraction,
That seemed always in my mind.
Of course I 'know' how I arrived.
I first heard my voice.
And my parents noticed it.
I learned if I used it in certain ways,
They were there.
I was a baby them.
Then I connected my voice to words.
I was in awe that letters were attached.
And those letters attached used in different ways,
Made those words I said more or less effective.
Then I began to see those letters change,
As I began to print them by hand slowly.
I was amazed! .
Then I discovered certain words I shouldn't say!
I should never have been told that.
Because even today...
I will use those same words to chase people away.
Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And I used a lot of cussing along the way.
Trust me.
But I stopped when it was pointed out to me,
I 'seemed' to have had more intelligence than that.
And whoever said that to me,
Had no clue as to how curious I was.
'Ma?
What's intelligence? '
~Someobody who asks too many questions.
And is about to get on my last nerve.~
'You talking about me? '
~Are you or are you not in my face? ~
'Why can't I ask you anything,
Before it's turned into a test? '
~And if you want to pass,
You know what to do.
Without lip or sucking of tongue.
You got that, mister? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today
There has been a day like today
But a fresh new day is today
It is a unique day today
It is wide open today
All the answers for our questions has today
Let us dream today
Let us laugh today
Let us share our love today
Let us express our greatness today
Let us trade many a yesterday for today
Let us perform our tasks today
Let us make it a magnificent today
Let us thank God for giving life today
Let us thank God for seeing His creations today
Let us love most about today
A golden day is today
For it is a fact today
It has arrived today!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Provoked But Motivated
The taking for granted of others,
Does not have long lasting benefits.
Nor does an attempt to fit another into a mold,
Believing this misdeed easy to sell to be sold to others...
Will not eventually backfire to expose one's own credibility,
To reveal an ability to create fantastic lies...
On those they chose to be depicted as they would please.
Creating one's own truth can be forgivable,
By those picked to be discredited as if this had been permitted.
But for those whose minds become disturbed,
As time unwinds them to unravel without a word from them heard.
It becomes more difficult to keep this from being noticed.
Or those provoked but motivated,
By those who thought them to be the fools they have never been.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Tree of Waking Life
The tree that says with elation,
'I think I'll fly instead.
Although there's but water in my roots
to last me through the day,
today will be the finest day
I've ever seen or heard of.'
Is the tree I sing my ode to,
The Tree of Waking Life.
The tree upon whose branches
I am so tempted to rest,
but it laughs and calls me foolish,
and gives but one suggestion.
'Men are not meant to be reflections,
but forms of their very own.
Not shadows of their fathers,
but explorers of this stone.'
The tree that will die
from its curious internal lust,
and will curl a fulfilled smile
across its bark encrusted lips,
and sleep as a child with steady mind,
The Tree of Waking Life.
The tree that says with elation,
'I think I'll fly instead.
there is but water in my roots
to last me through the day,
but today will be the finest day
for I will fly today.'
Is the tree I sing my ode to,
The Tree of Waking Life.
The tree upon whose branches
I am so tempted to rest,
but it laughs and calls me foolish,
and gives but one suggestion.
'Men are not meant to be reflections,
but forms of their very own.
Not shadows of their fathers,
but explorers of this stone.'
And as the sun begins to set
and its leaves begin to wilt
when its too weak to control its flight
it will sleep the sleep of a pleasant child
the Tree of Waking Life.
Mystic Journey: Gravity 2
through science's grainy spectacles
the cosmos collapses into probabilities,
but Man, one of the highest improbables,
is beyond observed observers' observing.
even that final, mysterious transformation
of mass into Light, and then Intelligence,
mathematical alchemy of quantum gravity,
can't convert all into a Kosmos conscious
of Itself, a Being whose constitution,
the Tree of Life, is an Intelligence free
balanced at all times, at all points.
science is silent on matters that matter
most. too, when keats wrote 'Beauty
is truth, truth beauty, '* he might later
have added that both of them are good.
from alpha to omega, conscious ascents
of consciousness pressure us- so what
side of the looking glass are we on?
with eyes open we behold an infinite mass
of light. close them for an instant.
the cosmos disappears. instead, we pass
into intuition and, through its reflexive
screen, discover nothing changed since
the big roar began. here, within the
motionless Mind within ever-in-motion
Light, at the vital heart of the Kosmos,
is a power of attraction, an action
we quaint call Love. from the physicist
and his fuzzy particle, to the artist
and her feel for beauty, Love is the Law.
its gravity is a desire for order and unity
in diversity. since time began not one dot
has been added to nor subtracted from it.
it is now, ever was, and ever shall be
the same. and that is all we know.
and that is all we ever need to know.
poem by Doug Bentley
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Decaying Days
And with them did we journey some hours,
To be decaying hours and days,
Winds thwarting winds with corridors and rain.
The stationary blasts of life became overwhelming
Like the blossoming eternal work of the mind,
The clouds of great light and great darkness.
A tumult of peace overcame him as they looked
At their journey after some time,
Decaying forests of blizzards came in time.
The type of soldier who investigates the scene
Shall express a signature on the work of the blizzard.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Disguised. Valued. And Protected
I have made up my mind,
To do one thing!
Especially if I am seen,
In public.
I have made it my priority,
Not to show in my eyes...
On anywhere on my face,
That I am able to keep a thought.
Or keep one too long in my head.
Nowhere do I wish it to be reflected,
I have an ability to think!
I do not...
And I repeat this.
I DO NOT want anyone to believe,
I can explain what's going on!
Or keep a thought to express.
OR...
Have it identified to be addressed.
The peace of mind I am blessed to keep...
Is going to stay right where it is!
Disguised.
Valued.
And protected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ive Been Here Before
Ive tried so many times
To keep romance alive
I guess I never really had true love
Then you came my way
And nothings been the same
Now youre all Im ever thinking of
If I had the say youd be staying
Chorus
Hey Ive been here before
Looking in your eyes see just a little more I said
Hey Ive been here before
Someone must have sent you down to brighten up my life
One in a million boy
You fill me up with joy
Sometimes I dont believe in accidents
I know were meant to be
Its so plain to see
From here on out it where the fun begins
If I have the say youll be staying
Chorus
Hey Ive been here before
Looking in your eyes see just a little more I say
Hey Ive been here before
Someone must have sent you down to brighten up my life
Sent you down to brighten up my life
Bridge
Sometimes the obvious is hard to see
Now here you are standing right in front of me
I could have missed my one and only
Chance for love chance for love oh
Hey Ive been here before
Looking in your eyes see just a little more I said
Hey Ive been here before
Someone must have sent you down to brighten up my
Sent you down to brighten up my life
Chorus
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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