Uttering Sounds
Too many give up lip!
Silence...
Does not cross their minds.
Violent streets,
Keeps them heated.
Too many together...
They can't shut up!
Pilots careening,
To crash land into gutters.
They have not learned to stop,
Uttering sounds!
To listen.
To someone...
Claiming to have authority!
Shooting themselves in the foot.
Booting themselves happily...
To be marked by soot and grim.
All their mindless lives!
Finding it fun and merriment,
To disturb the peace.
All hours of the night!
When these beasts should be at home sleeping...
Tied and strapped to their beds!
'Harold...
That's very poetic.
But we are not their parents!
And you are only making matters worse,
By staring at them through the window! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Because We've Kept Our Mouths Closed
While you and I were staring out the window,
Our lives were being played with.
Insignificantly.
As if a ball tossed,
By irresponsible kids.
And because we've kept our mouths closed...
Those balls then were thrown.
Tossed carelessly back to break that window.
With a showing of further disrespect.
And a lot of shouting expected.
With our lives continued to be played.
As if nothing had been heard.
Since we allowed it to be that way!
Because we've kept our mouths closed.
Or mumbled in silence...
To not disturb with bitter words.
For fear of being perceived as mean neighbors.
Now the whole neighborhood is policed,
And monitored.
To keep peace on the streets.
And at one time,
It was easy to blame this on 'them'!
You know...
'Them? '
Who had been 'those people'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Thud of Sounds Cross Through the Night Hours
When the thud of sounds cross through the night hours
keeping you awake when you close your eyes
until the sun touches the horizon,
violating your home, wanting to drive you from your house
and if you want to correct that people,
they may want to cause more amok,
when the thud of sounds cross through the night hours
keeping you awake when you close your eyes,
they may hit you with knuckle-dusters
or they may take revenge later
and in an incident all your ribs may be broken,
or they may shoot you quite by accident,
when the thud of sounds cross through the night hours.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Kid to Soldier
Little Boy, young man
playing guns, shooting guns
having fun, learning runs
little scout, recon scout
playing war, living war
making sounds, shooting rounds
finding friends, finding rebels
running thru sprinklers, running thru gun fire
screaming fun, Screaming pain
living life, surviving life
we are one, one and all
from boy to man
from playing soldier to fighting soldier
home to Mom, home to love
we welcome you home our little man
poem by Michael Peterson
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I Wish
Staring into the night
Come on shooting stars
Let me with on you
Remove these scars
Come on rain
Pour down on me
Wash away my pain
Come on day
Take away the night
Come on future
Get rid of the past
Give me a fighting chance
Come on love
Give me something
Give me lust
Come on courage
Give me some life
Come on commitment
Give me forever
Come on beauty
Give me you
Hello thunder storm
Give me lighting too
Come on shooting star
I have all these wishes so far
Come on happiness
Give me you
Go away loneliness
Give me you
Take my money
Give me health
Go away hunger
Let them eat
Shooting stars i need you tonight
Before day light
Home, Sweet Home.....
There is no place like home in this world
Home sweet home where I always live so happily
A light from the sky seems to bless us there
and God's love is spread all over there
How happy when you sit with loved ones
and to see their faces full of love smile
How nice to sit near our parents and great parents
and listen to their old stories that bring us lessons too
Our garden full of greenery and the flowers are
bloomed to give us pleasure
All those birds on the trees singing gaily
to give us a peace of mind
Our pets run freely in and out of the house
and keep us busy to watch their naughtiness
When I look at the mountains in their great splendor
that blows with cool breeze that give us healthy life
Our neighbors are dear and so helpful without fear
An exile from home, bring nothing but sadness
Because home is sweet home.
(Sri Lanka/2007)
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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How We Learned Our Lessons
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.
And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!
They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.
'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
Our Parents.
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When the Parents Refuse to Come Home
When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.
poem by David E. Patton
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The Silence of Night
The silence I am with
Comforts
Stills
Surrounds
The silence is not real
Full
Constant
Chaotic
The silence is for me
Friendly
Hopeful
Peace
The silence becomes
All
Nothing
Ambiguity
No child to remind me I'm not alone
Little patter of feet to keep me up
Cries for 'mom' are far from this home
No last night time kisses and hug
The crickets sing there woeful tunes
Sounds of cars and screeching tires
Baby's scream and mother to sooth
Sounds of an urban type comical ire
The slamming of near neighbor’s door
TV blares a messy reality reminder
Silence carries drive by bass to poor
Teenager’s worried yells are a timer
Late night bacon from downstairs
Orange light filters in the windows
Revving motorcycle give night flair
Sounds of silence continue to grow
By Ruth L. Rivers
Aug. 4,2009
poem by Ruth L. Rivers
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Mountain O'Things
I lose my head
From time to time
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
We should have been holding each other
Instead we talked
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
But I asked before
Your reply was kind and polite
One wants more
When one's denied
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
I won't call it love
But it feels good to have passion in my life
If there's a battle
I hope my head always defers to my heart
In matters of the heart
I guess I'm crazy to think
I can give you what you don't want
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
I've made myself sick
I can't think of anything else
I can't sleep at night
I make a fool of myself
In matters of the heart
I wish that I had the power
To make these feelings stop
I lose all self control
In matters of the heart
I can't believe
It's so hard to find someone
To give affection to
And from whom you can receive
I guess it's just the draw of the cards
In matters of the heart
You caught me off guard
Somehow you reached me
Where I thought I had nothing left inside
I've learned a lesson I've been edified
In matters of the heart
I've spent my nights
Where the sleeping dogs lie
Not by your side
It feels so lonely
Once again I've left too much to chance
In matters of the heart
Here I sit
I'm feeling sorry for myself
It's quite a sight
But I have you to thank
For reminding me
We're all alone in this world
And in matters of the heart
I'm already missing you
Although we won't say good-byes
Until tomorrow afternoon
Maybe when and if I
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Em 3
about you
what shall i say about you?
ah, i prefer my
silence
this is my cure about
you
yes, my silence
it shall speak about
you my silence
my very own silence
to speak about your
long silence
now we are at peace
in our silence
both shall speak about
us yes our silence
our marital silence in
the silence of our bed
the root of all our
troubles freud say is in
the silence of our beds
two beds now
four meters apart
speaking in silence
the silence of the house
and the chairs
and the staircases
and the carpets and
the ticks and the
empty glasses or those
cold coffee and
frozen butter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Write Because....
we write
beyond their frames of reference
we write because we have traveled so well
this journey of life
seemingly without end
so many things to see still
so many places to traverse
rivers to cross
skies to fly our hours
so many bridges of this world
so many black birds dissolving in fading afternoons
so many waves that sing of folding times
so many mountains gummed
so many sorrows and joys
kids begging on the streets
prostitutes strutting their bodies on long and lonely and hungry nights
so many decent men and women nonspeaking their ways
on airport halls
lots of sounds on the malls
sipping silences on private beaches
exclusive hotels
blending colors
mixed scents
intriguing dialogues
colliding bodies
salty sweat
cranky faces
all sorts, all sorts
of intricacies
and idiosyncrasies
a very interesting
world
indeed, indeed!
so many people with their mouths eager to tell
the stories of their lives
i walk, i listen, i keep my mouth shut
i write
we write because there are people who want their stories to be written
we are all ears now,
and fingers too
must you ask me when shall i stop?
let them all shut up.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Would You Like Me to Bake You Some Cookies?
Freeze.
Get on your hands and knees.
Where is the cash stashed?
And your valuables?
Give me the keys to your car.
And I hope it's filled with gas!
Silence.
Shut your lips,
Before I split them fast.
'And you were the one to say,
You would rather have him...
Bring his activities into the privacy of our home.
Than have them done in the streets.'
Silence!
Didn't I say...
Shut your lips,
Before I split them fast.
'Yes.
But son,
The car only has a half tank of gas.'
But dad...
I'm serious.
I'm not doing this for laughs.
~Would you like me to bake you some cookies, Johnny? ~
Ma will you shut up!
What kind?
~The ones you like with the walnuts.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lend Me Silence
Lend me silence
The noise is drowning me
Making my heart unheard
Making my spirit inaudible
Silence is peace
Silence is joy
Give me silence
Give me peace
Noise is polluting
I long to hear
My breath
And whisper
Lend me silence
Lend me peace
My soul is yearning
For solace
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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Peace And Love
Peace and love
Peace and love
That's all I'm thinking of baby peace and love
Peace and love
Peace and love
That's all I'm thinking of baby peace and love
Riding around in a volkswagon van
Thinking of the people upside down in Japan
Staring at the stars in a distant galaxy
Wonderin' if there's someone out there staring back at me singin'
Peace and love
Peace and love
That's all I'm thinking of baby peace and love
Peace and love
Peace and love
That's all I'm thinking of baby peace and love
Lying on the floor
Just playing my guitar
Trying to find the chords for just the way you are
Plane crash flashing on my TV
Well it could have been you baby well it could have been me
We'll never live forever, well baby things could be worse
Cause when we get together we are one with the universe
Sometimes I think I might just move up to Vermont
Open a bookstore or a vegan restaurant
Got crazy karma never harmed a single soul
So if you want to join me than together we'll grow old singin'
Peace and love
Peace and love
That's all I'm thinking of baby peace and love
Peace and love
Peace and love
That's all I'm thinking of baby peace and love
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Whale
in the night-rain
driven from the river
'cross the railway-tracks
at traffic-lights
came face to face
with the ghost of a whale
searching for his jaw-bone
one-time strapped to the ceiling of a pub
and in the time it takes
the lights from red to green
in his eyes
thought I'd seen much more
as down the hill to the sea
at the dock-wall
saw his tail-light dip and fade
as he dived
tarmac deep
into the dark streets
and the gutters overflowed
with the wake and wash he made
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Poem-eyes
You’re a walking poem
and it’s like I have night vision
except instead of goggles they are
poem-eyes:
only I can see you,
your arms and legs strings of sentences
bare with candid sincerity,
your hair tangled weaknesses
curled with a simile
and eyes of endearing desire
marked with a metaphor,
poetic sentiment hanging off you
like unwashed clothes.
Your mouth breathes out symbolism,
when you walk, the line breaks jingle
and when you hug me I can feel myself
being wrapped in a charming mystery
that sounds so pretty when read aloud.
When you stop, I stop
and gather all the fallen words
in a basket I keep around my waste
marked Beauty.
Don't Disturb
Disturb not my peace! Oh flowers!
With your sweet scents, that haunt, daunt
Worse, your prattle with butterflies
Lest her thoughts retrace my heart; taunt
Disturb not my sloth! Oh silly winds
With your grating, gyrating caresses
You rind my confidence, I had
Been pretending with courage-false
Disturb not my silence! Oh senses!
With dreams, desires and promises
I spurned long ago your finesse
When she took my love; gave distress
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Black-streets I
Black-streets, actress, rest, rests, bless, best, east, crabs, less, bats;
Let it be clean and learn from my sweet love!
For, there is no plcae like home.
Black-streets, black, street, streets, ace, aces, bat, era, are, ear, ears!
In the land of peace and in the land of joy;
But listen to me when i do speak,
For, true love is better than the bullets of war! !
Black-streets, eras, sea, seas, tree, trees, see, sees, lack, lacks, sack;
With samples along to guide you my love! !
For, your steps out there should be guided by the real sytles of life.
Black-streets, sacks, Blacks, as, back, backs, at, set, sets, sat, seat;
And like the real taste of love in the land of peace!
But, try to live up to the expectations of the laid down laws.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Thoughts On The Sounds of Silence
The sounds of silence beacons me.
Like the flight of a bumble bee.
For my life is in a quandary. And I am the one who is confused.
All the noise I here has me transfused.
The constant noise is like a cancerous ooze, someone mused.
All this noise has everyone confused.
I pray to God above to bestow me with the sounds of silence.
All human life is in the balance.
With the sounds of silence I believe peace surrounds us.
About this subject I must confess, I need to access.
I must admit that the sounds of silence is for me.
On the sounds of silence many of us do agree
That peace and love needs to be in great balance.
Without the sounds of silence there would be a major imbalance.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Strong Willed and Opinionated
Some suspect I am into myself!
I play along with it.
To amuse their curiousities.
Knowing they have no idea...
The influences that structured me.
We expressed ourselves freely,
As children growing up.
My parents were quite intelligent and gifted.
And they would give us 'signals' when to speak...
And when to shut up!
Strong willed and opinionated,
My sisters and I were taught to be that way!
And if we had something on our minds...
Inside of us it did not stay!
Wherever the spirits of my parents are,
They have to be proud...
Of the lives we have displayed!
But I often wished,
What it would be like.
If my mother did sew up my lips...
To keep my mouth shut closed and tight!
Since she said some things,
Not to tease us.
But to strike a fear within us that would fright!
'What did-you-say?
You better not say another thing to me, boy! '
Ma...
Please,
Don't tell daddy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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