What Difference Does That Make?
What can anyone say to another,
When opportunities to have meaningful conversations...
Have been skipped to compare one's appearance,
To relatives, neighbors, pets and meaningless nonsense.
People have done this,
And for years make claims what they know.
When in actuality they know not a thing.
Not about the people they talk about or the surroundings.
And these are the folks who are expressing disbelief.
Whether it is about something done or what has been achieved,
Right next door.
Or the kind of lifestyle a relative lives and not one perceived.
There are people who have complete conversations,
Discussing other people they have yet to meet.
And when they see them in the streets they give them attitude.
Without one word ever shared or a hand extended to greet.
What can anyone say to another,
When opportunities to have meaningful conversations...
Have been skipped to compare one's appearance,
To relatives, neighbors, pets and meaningless nonsense.
'Hello.
I'd like to introduce myself...
Since no one else has done it.
And I don't want to be like them.
I'd like to establish a process,
That has a start that progesses to a middle...
And grows to produce positivity that never ends.'
~You know I know you.
Stop playing around.~
'What's my real name?
Not my nickname.'
~What difference does that make?
We still gon' be related.
What's your real name anyway?
I never knew that.~
'And you say you know me?
How? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
They Show Up In Droves At Funerals
I know of a place,
Where people know others
By what has been told to them.
People will say, 'Oh, I know 'them'.
I heard this and that! '
And they have had not one convesation at all.
Not with that person.
Even those related...
However they are related.
'See' each other their entire lives...
And know absolutely nothing about the other.
However...
They show up in droves at funerals.
To make pointless conversations.
And roll their eyes at those...
Because someone said they said something,
About someone else.
And they had the 'nerve' to appear to pay
Their respects!
These places exist.
Without conversations being shared,
By either the ones who have departed...
Or,
By those standing in line to feed themselves...
During the repast!
Some will take food to go.
As if at a fast food restaurant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On a One To One Need To Know Basis
The more I feel out of place...
The more conscious I've become of my surroundings.
And I know I'm not the only one feeling this way.
I make attempts not to appear too obvious.
Some are not so discreet.
I've noticed others having complete conversations,
With two and sometimes three people.
And they are walking along the streets by themselves.
Using hand gestures and stuff like that.
Having arguments with benches and trees.
Trying their best to fit in.
Me?
That kind of strategy is too creative.
Hey...
What works for some,
Doesn't for 'all'.
That's my motto.
I use an entirely different approach.
I have a cellphone I hold to my ear.
I pretend I'm receiving calls!
I like to keep my discussions on a one to one,
Need to know basis.
And no one suspects a thing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To My New Neighbors
on this morning chat
she says she will be arriving on time
for the halloween
she will be lighting candles for her dead parents
and other relatives of this old town
offer them flowers and prayers that she can muster
she will be bringing her middle child
who starts to write his poems in his notebook
she tells me he is the silent type
the one who can thrive without a conversation
she shifts the topic about the color of the rails of her new house
the verandah is not pink now, it is painted white
and she is asking what flowers fit into the picture
i suggest the bougainvillas, the flowering ones already
sold in the nearby farm by an old lady
she is excited, she will be having us, as neighbors finally
our fence shall be a line of daisies
our yard evergreen, our trees shall be the ones with
perfume: the champacas and the ylang-ylangs
and expectedly, there will be a lot of laughter and
nice conversations of cultured and educated people
whose sense of morality would be high
the chat is quite long, and i decided i have to end it.
i have still other poems inside my mind.Unwritten.
What bothers me, and for which i am really interested
is the poetry of his middle child. I like someone who writes
like me. And i do not need a lot of conversations too.
i like my silence. I love the talk inside my silence.
I will burst.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Within Cliques of Gossips
There are those programmed and convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
But when asked, none had close talks...
With the one claimed known.
And the one claimed known...
Had not a clue as to what was going on.
Other than the usual assumptions that take place,
Within cliques of gossips.
There are those who have created,
Lifestyles of others in their minds.
With sexual preferences believed known discussed.
With the goings on in the privacy of their homes,
And with whom they lust.
There are those programmed and self convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
Until they got the opportunity to meet them.
And then became quite upset...
That those they met,
Were quite different...
Than the people they had kept in their minds.
Only to find themselves,
Living too confined and behind fast times.
To leave a narrow perception of life,
Left to go unaddressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Not There
Some folks don't and wont get it.
What has been said to them or done.
A thorough and complete programming instilled...
Has been fed and eaten,
By nearly everyone.
What some may see as bleak...
As their false foundations have been shakened,
From beneath their feet.
Others view this as opportunities to dismiss conflicts.
To begin to fix those divisions that have kept folks hiding,
Behind nonsense and their foolishness.
But some folks don't and wont get it.
What has been said to them or done.
A thorough and complete programming instilled...
Has been fed and eaten.
By nearly everyone.
And the ones who have awakened,
With a consciousness prepared.
Are very reluctant to share what is known!
Since a clarity in the eyes of most...
Is just not there!
With a promise it is coming to be shown,
To make an appearance anywhere!
Anytime,
Soon!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Do You Believe In?
Do you want someone to come to your rescue?
Do you want someone to believe in you?
Someone who believes in what you do,
And sees everything through,
Someone to give you credit where it's due,
And know that what they're saying is true.
Do you believe in people, who wear a crown,
Do you believe in people, who bear a regal gown,
Do you believe in people that make you frown,
Do you believe in people that break you down?
Do you want someone to answer your prayers?
Do you want to find someone who cares?
Someone who ventures and dares,
Just to be there,
Someone who wants to share,
Their love without compare.
Do you believe in people, who play with lives,
Do you believe in a person, who never ever tries,
Do you believe in people, who you have to idolise,
Do you believe in a person who keeps up the lies?
Do you want someone you can feel?
Do you want someone who is real?
Someone who is completely ideal,
To help you heal,
Someone who will not conceal,
How much, to them, you appeal.
poem by Dale Mullock
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It Is All Meaningless
It is all meaningless-
We know it is all meaningless-
We know we will all die-
And whatever we do will die-
It is all meaningless
But still
We are, even when most alone, not alone
There are others who may care for us-
Others who may depend on us-
We are here now
And if we are a bit kind and caring and decent,
We must struggle
To not give in and give up-
To for the time we are here
Do our best for the others close to us-
And for the life we have been given also-
We must not simply let ourselves die-
We must not simply give in-
We must try and try again-
To do the best we can-
We must not give up
We must make life meaningful
For the time it can be-
We must live and give now with all we have
To make as good a life as possible
for ourselves
and for others we care about
and for those who may care about us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I find it difficult to imagine an afterlife, such as Christians, or at any rate many religious people, conceive it, believing that the conversations with relatives and friends interrupted here on earth will be continued in the hereafter.
quote by Edvard Munch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Everywhere: Social Music (Original 11 03 2009)
PEOPLE EVERYWHERE: SOCIAL MUSIC
Original 11 03 3009
People everywhere over here over there people
In poor bread lines people in pony drawn carriages
People on a chariot with a rumble seat people on a
Climb on a mountain steep people on a dime on a
Corner on Wall Street –street people -people everywhere
Everywhere there’s a drummer. Where you going?
Everywhere you go you go with a beat you go with
Where the music is… where the music is “social man
What’s jazz? ” People everywhere just social that’s all
New Orleans people social all the way up river to
Kansas City on up to Chicago don’t make no difference
If your name is Santiago Obama Bergson Rothschild
Bush just social People -Montrose New York City
People social all the way to Rio Paris Johannesburg
Brazil Belize over all the bridges –London Suez
Toronto Montreal people in a dim café -social
People in church every weekday and everyday
Everywhere there’s a temple play -Joe’s Place
People social man -music social don’t make no
Difference where you get together whoever is playing
Just playing so you keep on playing with everybody
Playing -people play social music man –man or
Woman don’t understand just don’t stop playing
People everywhere want to be there to see it -up here
You playing social music -understand -just don’t
Stop playing -people everywhere get hungry lose
Patience -people everywhere not playing social music
When you stop playing social music people every-
Where stop –trying to figure out why everybody
Stop playing social music -nothing social about
Playing a whole lot of music -nothing truly social
In a lot of music -the next thing you know a short
Spell and before long you got wars breaking out
Stop playing and its hell -that’s not social any more.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permission.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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For me, Los Angeles, New York, where I don't know my neighbors, where people don't necessarily care if they know their neighbors, I'm missing things that truly fed my soul when I was younger, the exchanges between people, the caring and the shared history with people.
I Should Have Seen More of the World
I should have seen more of the world
It has so many things -
I should have touched the details down to the slightest difference
And made each perception – meaningful
I should have had a kind of mind different from my own
Less general and abstract and more able to make sensations real-
I should have spoken of what touches the earth and the actual lives
Of so many kinds of different people -
But I did not -
I sang my poem in my own small way about my own endless self
And thought and made my poems of thought
And I too writing this
Remembering how I always vowed to never repeat my father
And live in regret
Try to not say, ' Should and could and would have been’.
There are other things and other people and other worlds and much I cannot do and be -
Let me sing my own song
Others have what they have
And I what I am
And this poem too
Another meditation
Which tries to have a music of its own
And somehow broken and half real stumbles upon the page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Bus Ride
Differences make everyone
People you meet people you see
People everywhere
Can make you see
Make you see the differences the world can give us
Make you see the differences each other can give us
If you Watch you can see the differences in the way people act
The way people talk
The way people perceive each other
If you listen you can hear the way people can change themselves
You can hear the lies and distorted truths
Complete strangers telling far off stories
Sharing life times true and fake
For that short moment of time
You can be whoever you want to be
poem by Robert Snively
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Defending my Insanity
I’ve had conversations with the rain
Both night and day we talk
It told me how things will be
When I’m sitting naked in the rain
Nothing feels the same
The people that see me whisper
“he must be insane just sitting there
naked in the rain”
But what does anybody else know?
I ask my weather friend
I ask the rain advice
Some direction for this life
And I listen…
It answers without reply
So get dressed and go inside
I’ve had conversations with the rain
It chooses not to speak to me
But I’ll talk with it again
poem by Nicolas 'Kokonutz' Kokonas
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Those of Actions and Less Words
Anyone can make comments,
About feelings meant.
Feelings claimed to have!
But kept in one's mind,
Where that time has been spent!
However...
Those of actions and less words,
Impress with images lasting.
And it is the consistency of their thoughts and deeds...
That keeps one in someone's mind,
As one that can be believed without doubt or question.
Too many people today express in public flair,
How deep their loyalty for another is...
And so profess what is kept,
But not truthfully there to be addressed.
With confessions made to others,
As if this passes a test.
While it is the things done they do...
That disproves a conviction spoken.
And not in their hearts to followed through.
Although dramatized displays are created,
To show how someone by another,
Has been made to become upset.
This is straight from a 101 Beginner's Acting Manual.
And those on the receiving end,
Are not tricked to be fooled by deceptions that begin.
Feelings they have are invested too!
And these feelings for them are protected to defend.
Not tossed about in meaningless conversations.
Conversations to impress but without a depth connected.
Anyone can make comments,
About feelings meant.
Feelings claimed to have!
But kept in one's mind,
Where that time has been spent!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Through their play Barbara imagined their lives as adults. They used the dolls to reflect the adult world around them. They would sit and carry on conversations, making the dolls real people.
quote by Ruth Handler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Once Sought
Conversations have lost comforts,
Of mutual exchange.
Forced engagements now depend,
On premeditated thoughts...
Once enjoyed but now has ended.
And abandoned curiousities
Seemed to have peaked and shallowed.
But no one dares to admit something is missing.
People once sought to share conversations...
Are finding their presence disapproved!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some of us may just, in one-on-one conversations with our family, with our friends, over the back fence with our neighbors, talk about the reality of our lives and realize that we're not alone, that we have a right to be physically safe and emotionally safe in our own homes.
quote by Patricia Ireland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk About The Good Times
(words & music by jerry reed hubbard)
Well I remember when I was as children
The time the people used to treat the neighbor like a fellow man
And all their singin and big prayer meetins
When a man was proud to walk up and shake his neighbors hand
Oh you talk about the good times,
Talk about the good times
Oh if you ever needed help a friend was there
Some good neighbor
Help lift your burden
Mmm, and the simple joys of life a friend would share
Times are harder and the people are changin
Now most folks couldnt tell you who their neighbors are
All their guns are loaded, the front doors are bolted
Aint this ol world takin hate and fear just a little too far
Oh you talk about the good times,
Talk about the good times
I wish I could go back to the days Im speakin of
When a friend would meet you
And a smile would greet you
What this ol world needs now is a little old fashioned love
My granddaddy God rest his soul now
Well we had a big long talk together the day he died
Said son this world is full of hate and venom
An I cant wait to leave this ol place and rest on the other side
Oh you talk about the good times, talk about the good times
Talk about the good times
Im gonna see all the friends I knew in the good ol days
Well have a big hand shakin
An sit and talk together
Sit down by the river jordan and sing our blues away
Oh you talk about the good times, talk about the good times
Talk about the good times
Im gonna see all the friends I knew in the good ol days
Well have a big hand shakin
An sit and talk together
Sit down by the river jordan and sing our blues away
Oh you talk about the good times, talk about the good times
Talk about the good times
Im gonna see all the friends I knew in the good ol days
Well have a big hand shakin
An sit and talk together
Sit down by the river jordan and sing our blues away
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember Those Who Spoke Their Minds
The people who make claims,
They do not know what's going on today...
Are the same people yesterday,
That said the same thing.
And the day before that,
They pretended not to see...
Trouble approaching their doorsteps.
Or a devalued lifestyle full of tension.
And lacking an abundance of quality.
Remember those who spoke their minds,
Without excuses to make!
And were told they were negative?
Remember those who refused to be disrespected,
And were criticized behind their backs...
Because they sought better lives to live!
And did not masquerade to fake?
To eventually be chased away...
Slandered, backstabbed and betrayed!
The people who make claims,
They do not know what's going on today...
Are the same people yesterday,
That said the same thing.
And the day before that,
They pretended not to see...
Trouble approaching their doorsteps.
Or a devalued lifestyle full of tension.
And lacking an abundance of quality.
And 'now' they wish,
For sense to be made of this.
When the seriousness of this they had dismissed!
And those that were ostracized,
Have disconnected themselves from it...
Completely with lives lived free of conflict!
And blessed to have been mavericks.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Leaving At The Right Time
one good thing with us
is this: we know how to forget
and we know how to begin
less the remembering
when we meet again, we always
talk about food rather than
review the pictures
we struggle again for the old songs
recalling the lyrics
We take some glasses of cold water
and resume with the conversations,
we laugh so loud the neighbors are disturbed
and we start to dance the chacha
and the tango
then we exchange gifts
and once more thank each other again
for this new encounter
a revival, a reconnection, a rebonding
of our hopes and dreams
of course, when the right time comes
we leave because we also want to forget.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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