Unnecessary, Enemic, Worthless and Outdated
Answers to questions simply asked,
More often than not...
Make less sense.
With an uninvited complexity.
Than those questions revealed.
A basicness intended,
Most of the time uncovers a gross incompetence.
With a negligence that is accepted.
And by some rule of substandardization...
A preferred ritual of common practice.
Which can, if left unmonitored...
Eliminate correctness altogether.
And the time consuming affects,
A brain processing thought may endure.
Well...
At least one that has potential
To connect understanding with comprehension.
And ignore those who imply this as a wasted activity.
Regarded as unnecessary, enemic, worthless...
And outdated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Probing Questions
Is there something more to life, than endless days of toil and strife?
Is there something after all of this; a Hell below or a Heavenly Bliss?
Can there truly be life after death, this when we take our final breath?
That question always asked is why; do innocent people have to die?
Why do righteous people perish, while evil seems to always flourish?
Friend is there truly a Living God, who rules above the earth we trod?
And does God truly care for us; mortal beings that return to the dust?
Can anyone have true peace of mind, in this world that is so unkind?
Why’s there evil darkness everywhere, if He is a God filled with care?
And why would a God full of love, simply sit and watch from above?
These are just a few of many more, questions asked about my Lord,
Questions that you may have asked; some in the not so distant past.
Many questions are Satan’s reproof, to keep many from God’s Truth,
Let none of them keep you from, Christ who from Heaven has come,
With answers to these and more, on questions about Heaven’s Door.
The Spirit leads to God’s Word, with the answers to questions heard,
Eternal answers which you will find, fill your heart not just your mind.
Where God not just answers them, but gives new life to all my friend.
Then all the questions are second to, the Eternal Life He’s given you.
And now an answer in my life, is to Heaven I’m going in Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©06/2007)
Instead Of Being A Pessimist
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist.
You want a life you like?
Oppose to the one you don't?
Why have you chosen to dislike what you do?
And who enforced this dislike upon you.
Do you live with wishes to fulfill your dreams?
Or are you focused on others,
Who seem to have 'your' things.
Are you focused upon others,
Who seem to be living your life?
Doing those things,
You wish for you also to like?
Perhaps those questions you ask,
Are not yours afterall.
And perhaps those answers,
That have come to you answered...
You ignored them to disbelieve,
Those answers received...
Were not yours.
Because you spend your time,
In the minding of other people's business!
And your business,
You haven't given your time to see...
Succeed.
But your time is spent,
Lamenting others you despise and criticize.
You want answers to your questions?
Wait for therm patiently to come.
Before you impatiently decide,
To get up and leave.
Believing they can be found,
With you not around.
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist?
Ask yourself that.
Instead of being a pessimist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Disaster
Are you aware
Of how much you complicate me
And are you aware
Your words sufficate me
And dont deny
That your talking behind my back
To your friends
And dont deny
One day you will need me
Need me
All my life
I've been looking for the answers
To the questions
You never asked and
We never planned on this distaster
When will I let it go
So incomplete
Your stare is cold
Unlike anything I've ever seen
So incomplete
Your body is tired
And falling apart at the seams
I wont deny
I took no part in
Never wanting you back
Dont deny
One day you'll need me
Need me
All my life
I've been looking for answers
To the questions
You never asked and
We never planned on this distaster
When will I let it go
All my life
I've been looking for the answers
To the questions
You never asked and
We never planned on this disaster
When will I let it go
If its tonight
Please let me know
If its tonight
Why dont you let me know
All my life
I've been looking for the answers
To the questions
You never asked and
We never planned on this disaster
When will I let it go
All my life
I've been looking for the answers
To the questions
You never asked and
We never planned on the disaster
When will i let it go
All my life
(I've been looking for the answers)
(When will I let it go)
We never planned on this disaster
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Now?
now the questions are asking you
what now? quo vadis?
where to? what for?
why?
yes, why above all.
the questions are asking you
and you must answer with the very same questions to the questions
you beg, and they beg too
the answer to the questions
but you have no answers really
you have learned the art of wisdom
its own ways
its own manners of not answering with answers
who knows? no one knows?
oh, ahh, i must start from where wisdow
was born
here i am and i know nothing....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Questions
I don't remember my first question asked
Might have been to my mother while in my crib I basked
Or maybe it was to my father when he kissed me goodnight
Then he said a prayer for me and then he turned off the light.
Many questions I have asked since the day I was born
Many questions I have answered and many I did mourn
Some of them were the truth, but them I had masked
I don't remember why, but I remember they were asked.
Questions are needed to understand our life
Answers are needed so we too might avoid strife
Life is full of questions and are as many as drops of rain
And like rain drops not two questions are really the same.
Questions will be a part of us until that day we die
We will come across them daily with who, what, where or why
I dread not the future, but I do dread the past
I also dread the day, not knowing which question of mine will be last.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Untitled 6
now the questions are asking you
what now? quo vadis?
where to? what for?
why?
yes, why above all.
the questions are asking you
and you must answer with the very same questions to the questions
you beg, and they beg too
the answer to the questions
but you have no answers really
you have learned the art of wisdom
its own ways
its own manners of not answering with answers
who knows? no one knows?
oh, ahh, i must start from where wisdom
was born
here i am and i know nothing....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Somewhere Down The Road
(Wayne Kirkpatrick/Amy Grant)
So much pain and no good reason why
You cried until the tears run dry
Nothing else can make you understand
The one thing that you held so dear
Is slipping from your hand
And you say
Why, why, why
Does it go this way
And why, why, why
And all I can say is
Somewhere down the road
There'll be answers to the questions
Somewhere down the road
Though we cannot see it now
And somewhere down the road
You will find mighty arms reaching for you
And they will have the answers
At the end of the road
Yesterday I thought I'd seen it all
I thought I'd climbed the highest wall
But now I see that learning never ends
And all I know to do is keep on walking
'Round the bend
Singing
Why, why, why
Does it go this way
Why, why, why
And all I can say is
Somewhere down the road
There'll be answers to the questions
Somewhere down the road
Though we cannot see it now
And somewhere down the road
You will find mighty arms reaching for you
And they will hold the answers
At the end of the road
Somewhere, somewhere down
And somewhere down the road
There'll be answers to the questions
Somewhere down the road
Though we cannot see it now
And somewhere down the road
You will find mighty arms reaching for you
They will have the answers
At the end of the road
They will have the answers
At the end of the road
Somewhere down the road, yeah
Somewhere, somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere down the road
Why, why, why
There will be arms reaching, down the road
Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere
Oooh
song performed by by Faith Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Common
Just because you do not wish something to exist,
Why must you campaign to destroy its presence?
To present and allow what you have created,
An influence to achieve a believable significance?
You will find you have wasted effort and time,
When those you are trying your best to convince.
Their own eyes to open wide do not connect to their minds!
Or belongs to them exclusively,
To be used for independent thinking to experience.
And believe this or not,
Many will be shocked to come to realize for themselves...
A kind of sense for them that you have yet to make.
And they will begin to regard this activity as common.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Questions?
i am tired of questions
all of them
too familiar and all
with ready
homemade answers
canned questions
and answers
in one book
scanned for years
and you all know them
canned laughter
canned faces
canned souls
canned and caned and chained
bones
they rattle and they shake
and roll
i have no answers.
i am throwing all these questions away.
i live everyday. i look at the trees
and the forests.
i simply live. Now.
i have no more questions.
neither will i demand
any answer from you.
go, go, find yourself.
i stay here wanting to find nothing at all.
i guess, after my 48 years
there is this truth
that i find: there is nothing
nothing to find
nothing to expect
nowhere to go
it is just this and this and this.
the one that i have in my hand
the one that i keep on holding
i enclose it and keep it warm
and alive
and you do not even care
this is it: me, myself, and I
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Questions Above
Many questions, seventy times seven, may be asked once in Heaven,
Our thoughts about the patriarchs, one or more questions this sparks,
Or maybe questions about this life, just why so much pain and strife?
Or the things we can't comprehend; may prompt questions in the end.
But with a pure mind and heart, many of those questions shall depart,
This when we enter into Eternal Life, now, with the pure mind of Christ,
Former things remembered no more, as we step on that eternal shore,
With an eternal mindset instead, as past is behind with Eternity ahead.
The things we could not comprehend, shall come to light at that bend,
The final turn at the end of our life, as we see the face of Jesus Christ,
With our glorified body and mind, those former things are well behind,
Many questions we may have asked, may be faded things of our past.
Most things from the former time, shall pale in the light of the sublime,
As the Crystal Sea and streets of gold, with our Lord our eyes behold,
Mindful now, of the things to come, as we enter, His Eternal Kingdom,
A Kingdom that shall not pass away, one, where we'll be there to stay,
Many things that we now ponder, may fade away as we get up yonder,
Earthly things will lose their allure, as we begin a new life for evermore,
Many questions now thought of, will likely fade in His presence above,
As Christ answers more than we ask, when we begin, that Eternal Task.
Thunderbolt
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt staying bold.
I'm the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
You may decide to run and hide.
But I've learned throughout my life...
Those who run let life slip by,
And cry in denial.
Setting themselves up...
For struggles and trials.
When I was young I was often hushed,
I would question too much.
With unedited questions asked.
To connect in my mind to grasp.
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
And with a boldness I still hold.
When I was young I was often hushed,
I would question too much.
With unedited questions asked.
To connect in my mind to grasp.
Zip zap crack with answers due.
Answer my questions asked of you!
I'm the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
Zip zap crack with answers due.
Answer my questions asked of you!
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
There were no shoulders for me to hold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
There were no shoulders for me to hold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
There were no shoulders with warm holds.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I might have been precocious!
But not braggadocious.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The traditional practice is that the justices don't ask the attorney general any questions, so as not to embarrass him. But Bobby Kennedy had let them know that he didn't mind if they asked him questions and they did.
quote by Harold H. Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A great scientist
He was full of questions.
For others, he provided answers
that stunned their knowledge and their world;
for him, his answers were but springboards
for his further questions.
He was the humblest of agnostics,
the humblest too, of atheists:
in the absence of sure faith in answers,
he lived with faith in questions;
and lived in wonder – full of wonder at the laws
that unfolded to his curiosity;
an eternity of questions;
an eternity of wonder at the world;
and perhaps, the God he did not believe in,
smiled, and loved him as a true believer;
sharing the goodness, truth and beauty of the universe
as angels may; believing in the love of law,
as the God of questions and creation must.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Up And Disappeared
There has been a lot of listening missed,
That did not reach either your left...
Or right ear.
And I know there has been many attempts...
To reach you.
But you...
Refused to pay attention.
Since what was said you did not want to hear!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
But the only thing your stubborn held fits,
Has not understood...'and' 'that' you've dismissed.
Any understanding those few were willing to give,
Has up and disappeared with no regret shown for it!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Under The Same Sky
Being a part of our society, some times we ask ourselves questions
questions for which the answers lie in the same heart as the one which
asked them.
Is being born black
treated a crime,
and does that matter
now in this time..?
aren't we the humans
born into the same race,
does racism have a meaning
in our beautiful place..?
Though we speak
of different tongue,
the beat remains the same
as our hearts once sung…?
isn't mother earth
the one who bears our weight's,
so,
why do we fight for places
and end up in senseless debates..?
why are our young generations
suffering for our mistake,
and loosing the share of love
or is their innocent smile a fake..?
isn't this the world
that we all made,
if we lose it now
who is it, at our aid..?
have we given a thought
and asked ourselves why
if so, you'd realize that
we all are under the same sky
poem by Sai Saketh Ram
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Questions
Don't ask me why
because I have
a long list of reasons.
Don't ask me how
because I have
ways that take time.
Don't ask me what
because there are many.
Questions...
just like you
I have many too.
Questions...
to answer them all
would there be time
left for us
to make memories?
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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If you don't ask the right questions, you don't get the right answers. A question asked in the right way often points to its own answer. Asking questions is the ABC of diagnosis. Only the inquiring mind solves problems.
quote by Edward Hodnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rachael Asks Good Questions
Rachael is four...
Rachael asks good questions...
What is God?
Why do we have to pray to God?
Is there any human being on earth
who does not ask these questions
eventually at some time during their life?
Some individuals
reflecting upon world events
reflecting upon world history
will be forced to ask
these questions
multiple times
throughout their lives...
And the answers are...
there are as many answers
as there are differing cultures
ethnicities religions biases...
Rachael is going to
a birthday party today
but Rachael is afraid of clowns...
Rachael asked her mother
did you ring your friend
to ask what the clown
will be wearing at the party?
Rachael said I am not afraid of the clown
any more I prayed to God...
an example of remarkable faith in a child...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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evasive (EDITED FOR one letter only)
the answers are shy
they have not matured
they always are not
confronting the questions
which keep on roaming like
Nazi soldiers looking
for the kill of the innocent
ones
the answers are arrows
with blunt tips
the questions are the black holes
of our universe
who dares to answer all of them
not me
i see all the questions
and i am but a little boy stupid on the street
looking for mother
and afraid of what a father can do
to defend the senselessness of
my posture
the questions are alive
the answers need a redemption
i take the side step
write a poem and then sleep
who knows?
the answer is nothing but a dream
yes, a dream
something ephemeral
yes, an illusion
something like a mirror
yes, a moment,
something that must pass like the shadow of the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Evasive
the answers are shy
they have not matured
they always are not
confronting the questions
which keep on roaming like
Nazi soldiers looking
for the kill of the innocent
ones
the answers are arrows
with blunt tips
the questions are the black holes
of our universe
who dares to answer all of them
not me
i see all the questions
and i am but a little boy stupid on the street
looking for mother
and afraid of what a father can do
to defend the senselessness of
my posture
the questions are alive
the answers need a redemption
i take the side step
write a poem and then sleep
who know?
the answer is nothing but a dream
yes, a dream
something ephemeral
yes, an illusion
something like a mirror
yes, a moment,
something that must pass like the shadow of the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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