To Tick With A Tocking All Of Our Clocks
Not too often,
But I do become quite amused...
By those who read my work,
And immediately have their perceptions of me.
Who I am and the life lived I pursue.
I am a writer and 'sometimes' I infuse,
My experiences lived.
But I am not an isolationist...
Observing life within limitations.
I have the ability to empathize,
With others unknown but do see.
I also listen to others as well...
With a focused attention.
Without that focus being centered on me.
I am not a self obsessor.
I am also a creature of curiosity.
An adventurer scouting out life,
And what life offers me.
And with a pad and pen with imagination too?
Well...
The environment is a canvas I observe.
To describe what is there existing.
Although there are times when people refuse,
To see themselves the way I do.
And believe it or not,
What is revealed to us all...
Has the capability to tick with a tocking,
All of our clocks.
With refusals to believe.
And denials to be heard to go on none stop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Uncommon Reality
I never lived in your world.
I never knew what it was like.
I have no real conception, of what normality is?
I never had to take drugs to escape.
I already lived in a world of my own.
I never aimed for or earnestly sort the high life.
I lived an artistic life, of the mind of the soul,
forever separating my life, from the common life.
From the common man and the common clay.
Everything was so sharp and clearly in focus.
Everywhere I saw and heard and knew too much.
I lived upon a heightened vibration rate
an awareness; as incredibly focused intensity.
I lived with such dynamic, personal passion,
I did not know; what it was like; to be passionless.
I knew that some people lived husks of life
but I; did not fully know; what it was to be a husk.
I always had somewhere beneath adversity
which afflicted me; the redemption; of artistic insight.
I guess this explains why husks gather,
so many possessions, to prop up their lives.
Husks are so empty, they often get blown away,
by the soulless wind, generating materialistic values.
I bequeath
a sacred gift
to enhance
enrich such lives.
Come live within
spirit of creativity
one spirit almighty
our divine creator.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lived In a Way That I Like
I am tired of providing someone else,
Entertainment.
Or become the subject of someone else's convenience.
There are those who react as if appalled...
If the hands on a clock does not stop for them!
And I am not loaning any tick tocking done in my behalf,
To anyone to prove a thing.
I've played both roles in a yesterday that has gone.
You know...
The Master of Ceremony with touches of comedy,
For someone momentarily bent out of shape.
And even though some may fine my lack of interest,
Offensive.
I've learned to walk away from that kind of mind play.
This is 'my' life!
And it will be lived in a way that I like!
Or...
Moved in a direction made without hesitation.
I am not loaning any tick tocking done in my behalf,
To anyone to prove a thing.
When lessons are learned it is best to use them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today I Had to Forgive Myself (My Life Is Meant to be Lived)
I saw something I had never seen before,
Once I looked beyond my own sorrows.
I lifted my head and saw an open door.
A light was shining through,
To show me tomorrow.
With promises I once wished,
But had not pursued.
I lived with a stagnation...
That came and overstayed,
A temporary reservation...
I made when feeling down,
And knocked out!
Drugged on self debasement.
Feeling nothing could replace...
This empty space within me.
And I knew then...
If I was to walk through that door,
Today I had to forgive myself...
And not let my burdens feel too welcomed.
As I had done countless times before.
Tossing my pain and self doubt about!
They could stay for as long as they wanted!
And entertain grief that came to visit.
But I had no intentions to remain with them,
Sustaining their attention or their comfort.
I kept deep within to repeat again and again.
A hollow search I felt had no end.
My life is meant to be lived.
Not to sit and forget to refresh my perceptions.
My life is meant to be lived.
And when I made up my mind,
I knew I would find...
A release of darkness that would diminish.
Once I allowed my guilt to deplenish,
I prepared to say goodbye to despair!
Knowing to leave that behind me to become fully aware...
My life is meant to be lived.
My life is meant to be lived.
My life...
Is meant to be lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Life Is Right Until Lived
When the thrill of living my life has quieted to end,
I will not be discovered procrastinating with any fears.
Or recovering from regrets,
Of not facing challenges to overcome when first met.
Nor is my life in any position for anyone to place bets.
Although I may choose to take those risks 'I' accept.
I am a work-in-progress taking forward not backward steps.
I live a life lived unafraid to make mistakes.
And those monitoring perfection based upon etiquette,
Are powerless to suggest what my identity should be to please.
Since this life I live is 'my' experience without boundaries.
And I will dream to adventure and explore to make known.
No life is right until lived as one decides it.
With...
Or without,
Judgements heard that are passed.
With...
Or without,
Judgements heard that are passed...
No life is right until lived as one decides it.
No life is right until lived as one decides it.
And...
As one decides what life is right for them to live,
Who can demonstrate what perfection is?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Doing What It Takes To Feel One's Best
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is 'not' something one adopts to do...
To get the attention.
Misconceptions about that are taught to those,
To leave them feeling insecure to be left exposed.
And psychologically dependent on others.
Those who are seeking the attention,
Are the ones making the excuses...
For everything done they do,
To avoid doing that which they should.
Fearing then no one would notice them at all.
And for them to be noticed is what is sought.
Leave them alone to figure themselves out,
And they wouldn't know what to do 'with' clues.
Especially if no one is there to listen,
To their opinions given or their version of life...
Yet for them to live.
But they'll try to convince others they know about.
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is 'not' something one adopts to do to get the attention.
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is something one does to comprehend.
And many not comprehending,
Can also be viewed amongst those refusing to listen.
Only a life lived to be one's best,
Is often a life lived making fewer excuses.
With less complaints heard,
To create and produce to seduce someone else...
For whatever the reason found around,
To digest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Lived Most Of My Life In Delusion
I LIVED MOST OF MY LIFE IN DELUSION
I lived most of my life in delusion-
I dreamed I was writing great masterpieces-
Every life moment was hoarded
For the sacred work.
I am old now
The manuscripts are piled up
No one wants them;
I apparently was wrong about my life and work
I lived in delusion-
Now I have all the time in the world to do nothing in-
These lines too can go to the pile.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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So Much Life Longing For More Life
SO MUCH LIFE LONGING FOR MORE LIFE
So much life longing for more life
Wanting to live so much
To feel to experience to know to enjoy to love.
So much life
Others have lived
So much life
I would have lived.
And the life I have lived?
More than I can know or understand
So much of it gone forever.
And all the longing and all the memories
And all the love,
Where is it now?
I have lived so much
And never lived enough
And want to live too much more
And know I will never live enough
And know I have lived so much much more
Than I will ever know again.
Life and more life,
Longing and more longing,
Life- Please God-
Not Death.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Odd One Out
Bittersweet is the life lived,
By that one depicted to be...
The odd one out.
The one picked as a child,
To be the one most unusual.
Bittersweet is the taste,
Of being determined to succeed...
Against opposition,
Standing on the sidelines...
And betting one this different will bleed.
Bittersweet is the one that experiences,
Observing other fall to their knees...
With qualifications that guarantees,
Them success.
But no happiness from them is expressed.
Bittersweet is the life lived,
By that one depicted to be...
The odd one out.
The one picked as a child,
To be the one most unusual.
'He is so unlike the others.'
~Yeah.
Despite his appearance,
He is determined, motivated and devoted.~
'What does his appearance have to do with anything? '
~You must be from out of town?
That's how people who live here are judged.~
'Maybe with that already known,
That's why he has chosen to live here.
And has succeeded inspite of attemtps to stop him.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bad Side Of The Moon
(bernie taupin/elton john)
Published by songs of polygram international - bmi
Seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
It seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
There aint no need for watchdogs here, to justify our ways
We lived our lives in manacles, the main cause of our stay
And exiled here from other worlds, my sentence comes to soon
Why should I be made to pay on the bad side of the moon
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've Lived My Life
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
I left the country for the city thought I was smart but I was silly
I should have known I'd get in trouble being so green
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
I met a boy and learned to love him I would have done anything for him
I've loved him more than anything I've ever seen
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
Only eighteen but it's all over I ruined my life to please my lover
I made him happy he made me cry then said goodbye
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
Only eighteen but it's all over...
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Lived One More LIfe... I Would
If I lived one more life
I would melt by the gentle sight of you
I would believe that your love is true
I would erase my fake intention
I would hold back all my foolish emotion
If I lived one more life
I would read all yr colorful envelopes
I would never burn your words of hopes
I would cherish your banner on the wall
I would make sure it will never fall
If I lived one more life
I would pick up your call night & days
I would guarantee your mind not decays
I would let my door open at all time
I would safe your sanity to prevent any crime
If I lived one more life
I would stand before you on my knee
I would beg your family to forgive me
I would plead to share your torture
I would fight to bring back your future
If I lived one more life
I would endure all your hate
I would accept you as my fate
I would strive to give you the best of me
I would die in your arms and be happy
If I lived one more life … I would
Dedicated to D.N.R – It’s been 14 years… This is my apology, I mean every word.
poem by Niken Kusuma Wardani
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All Day
Well Im hiding my eyes from the morning sun
And I keep on working till the work is all done
But a voice in my head keeps ticking away
As the sweats hosed down from yet another day
Well he works hard
And he lives hard
And he breaks his back without nothing to gain
While the boss man sits around and drinks champagne
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Well Im peeling the blisters off my working hand
Is that what it takes to make you understand?
That its something you read, not something you meant
To be slaving away without a shred of integrity
He worked hard
And he lived hard
And he broke his back without nothing to say
While the man in control was just laughing away
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Was it something you read?
Was it something you meant?
Was it something you said?
Or was it heaven sent?
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Alone
How does one justify a life lived alone
How does one love if they have never been shown
A life lived alone is a life lived in vain
A life lived alone has very little to gain
Why would anyone choose to live this way
Why would anyone choose to be alone everyday
Is it living alone a shy reality to blame
Is it living alone yet another of societys shame
I stand here alone with a tear in my eye
I stand here alone and wish to understand why.
'closing thought'
A singles life can have its moments of pleasure
But a family life is filled with memories to treasure
poem by Gordon Jerome
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Common Sense Is Not Indexed
People believe intelligence comes from books they read.
As if to regurgitate another's observations,
Gives them an equal ability to 'see'.
But those who have wisdom,
Observe their environment...
And those who live in it.
The affects this creates.
And whose thoughts dominate them.
However...
Reading does achieve an expanded comprehension.
If one chooses to pursue a degree...
To produce heightened accepted limitations.
Although if one chooses to explore out of the box.
One has to do that on one's own.
Since detailed documentation for this,
Can be found not!
Common sense is not indexed.
And generally pioneered without standards to block.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Faculty
Sometimes it seems so hard to work out the words,
and then again it seems not hard at all. Just write,
is as simple as that. There are times i can't seem to
work the words, other times the words come up
bubbling in my head with character and meaning.
At times i feel challenged by other writers, and i
begging to doubt my ability to work the words,
i simple read another writer and then i know i have
nothing to be worry about. I understand then that my
contest is with myself and not with other writers.
We all think about the same things, because once
in our life’s we all go through the same situations.
We all have the brain to create anything in our heads.
There’s nothing that i can't do if i focus and if i
don't focus; “you see” this word- focus is meaningful
in some ways, we need the focus, but in poetry we
need more the fantasy in our thoughts, the meaning
to our words, focusing can be important, but if your
head is not in the mood, there’s not going to be any
words bubbling up, even though you don’t need it so
much, because you can create a poem out of anything.
There’s one thing about writing, and reading poetry,
understanding the meaning behind the words.
Every word or phrase has a meaning behind, this is
where readers need to understand; for example-if i'm
drinking away my sorrows, it can mean, crying my
heart out, it can mean, i need to forget, it can mean,
a big hangover, it can mean, sleeping out in the porch,
it can mean, forgetting all you did last night; how many
things out of a phrase. Right know I would just like
to be in my cabin and sit right in front of the fire-place
with a bottle of wine and enjoy my pastoral life while
i write, amazing things.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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A Life
A life built on loneliness
is no life at all.
A life lived in sadness
awaits only darker clouds to call.
A life lived in misery
is one upon no happiness will fall.
A life that makes a stand
is the best life of all
It grabs every opportunity
to make life, as it should be.
HAPPY
17 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Life.
Life is full of challenges
Which people do face
Life comes and goes
Just as the season changes
Life is all about time which
Which wait for no one
Life is so beautiful
Which is not appreciated by all
Life is a market place
Where people sell and buy
Life is a journey
Where people travel pass
Life is up and down
Where people struggle
Life is all about you
Life life life life
Ever existing
poem by Ogunleye Kayode Peter
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Many Disrespecting Students
What lesson did you teach?
That kept concealed your weaknesses.
A student of 'life'?
This you are not!
Not if you preceive,
There is benefit to imposed limitations!
Maybe this is your goal and purpose?
Who knows?
But this experience called life,
You attempt to start to control.
Is not of your creation!
I know this is devastating news.
It's true.
It is not!
Although you believe,
You've been given the power to begin...
And stop the tick tocking of a clock!
The realms and dimensions,
Upon which we exist.
Are too magnificent for you to fathom.
From your limited insights...
You wish,
The Universe upon your shoulders sit.
As others are 'alllowed' by you to visit.
But it doesn't!
Nor will it ever.
Further come to burden your load.
Since upon us all,
There is a higher consciousness.
And 'you' fortunately...
Have nothing to do with it!
But learn.
Like the many disrespecting students.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Born To Die
Just a baby
On a doorstep
Its how they found me
Cold and hungry
Raised on hatred
Fed by strangers
As a young girl
I often wondered
Am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
People push me
Knock me down
My foster parents
Kicked me around
They brought me up on
Loneliness
I never had me
A single friend
Am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
Must be someone
In this world
Who can save me
From myself
Or am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
Am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Had I lived another life
Had I lived another life
~
Had I lived another life
What would I have to show in equal years
Would I be loved instead of just loving
And know the lasting secret to another’s heart
How would I then count my mistakes
Would my company be welcomed not accepted
It is a fruitless thought to be considered
For the never will be a known answer
I am but the sum of all my years combined
I harbour my guilt and shameful pride
Those words I wish to take back
And the others I now wished I had now said
Had I lived another life
Would I carry these same regrets
Would I know sorrows of yet another unkind
There are things which have shaped me
That I would happily go back and change
Perhaps in another life I may well feel the same
For all the unknown reasoning’s
One thing stands out as a certain
That life is a gift, a gift to the living
poem by Matthew Holloway
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