Whew! Thank You
The same pattern.
The same routine.
The same excuses used,
To defend the obvious widely seen.
The same statements made,
As if never spoken before.
An increase of peacefulness is reached...
Each day as one prays,
To get away from this.
Welcoming a rest that is blessed,
Behind closed doors that protects.
'Whew!
Thank you for my blessings.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are Not Hardly Alone
If what is going on can not be seen...
There is no need to ask what's going on!
Go back to sleep!
It is obvious that is where your comfort protects.
Snuggled up against excuses and alibis!
And that's alright.
Keep your eyes closed.
You are not hardly alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Those Days One Prays
When one prays,
A seeking from the outside...
Begins within!
To identify miracles,
One must sit in a quietness...
That has come to visit upon request.
When one prays...
The mind should be at rest.
When one prays,
A thankfulness should be first expressed.
With an appreciation for those blessings,
One sometimes ignores but gets!
When one prays.
When one prays,
A seeking from the outside...
Begins within!
To identify miracles,
One must sit in a quietness...
That has come to visit upon request.
When one prays...
The mind should be at rest.
With a confession professed,
As a thankfulness one expresses.
On those days one prays.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Facts Have Been Subtracted
Regardless of those statements you've made,
To anyone who has given you time to listen.
I was the one who accepted your blemishes and flaws.
I had been the one,
Giving you time to disrespect mine.
And I was the one...
To turn my back on another one of your excuses.
And I am sure any empathy you have manged to gather,
Facts have been subtracted...
From your version and depiction of truth.
And of this I am certain from witnessing your past.
Since your routine suffers from a much needed update.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Are So Creative
When some folks begin...
To make excuses.
It is a process for them,
That never ends.
They keep making excuses,
To use and abuse their family and friends.
In an addicting process...
Predictable!
Eventually identified as lies.
And applied over and over again.
Some are so creative,
As to make people believe...
Those who can see through this,
Are wrong not to comprehend...
An obvious illness,
Hidden within!
And why excuses for them exist.
Going on in their minds,
Without the slightest resistance...
Time after time.
And then comes the campaign...
To discredit and bad mouth others.
Either stating someone believes,
They have opinions that are not concrete.
When anyone who has ever made contact with them...
Notices too late,
They too have been wrapped up in a waste of time...
Helping the excuse maker to defend!
Only to find themselves in public disagreements.
And having the innocent eyes of a pathological liar...
Gaining sympathy from those,
Who had not been over time exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Care
I care.
But with no one will I share,
A welcoming of their despair.
I have been there.
And with routine...
Struggled with troubles,
To get nowhere.
Until I chose to leave behind,
All those factors...
That comforted and satisfied,
My then limited mind!
I care.
But with no one will I share,
A welcoming of their despair.
Too much of life goes unexperienced.
And experiencing life...
Seems to bring a freshness,
To an atmosphere filled with stagnant air.
Philosophies and past ideals,
Spoken about but never seized...
Leaves those choking on remedies,
Of 'what could be' and possibilities.
But few are willing to venture...
Beyond their own censored cemented senses.
And in a country settled by Europeans,
A conflict remains...
As to whose mindset,
Has influenced the strain...
Of an etiquette that maintains,
And sustains a continued drain!
With such influence.
I care.
But with no one will I share,
A welcoming of their despair.
It is what it is...
And that's it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Will Receive This Portion Of Blame?
A portion of bait blame squarely laid
at the feet of sly Satan the red horned
demon lurking behind closed doors
of deceit dripping with malice thorns
an ancient excuse for all vapour mist evils
excuse for all failures all tribulations
all sorrow all worries all incurred debts
all misses of standard mark all self pities.
God blesses work of hands good will done
works of ill will receive no angel blessings
excuses conform to configure an ill nature.
I ill matured man lay on a host of excuses
I pick choose a myriad of hard luck abuses
reason this that cannot wait to relate ruses.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Misquotation is, in fact, the pride and privilege of the learned. A widely- read man never quotes accurately, for the rather obvious reason that he has read too widely.
quote by Hesketh Pearson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misquotation is, in fact, the pride and privilege of the learned. A widely- read man never quotes accurately, for the rather obvious reason that he has read too widely.
Hesketh Pearson in Common Misquotations (1934)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Son Never Shines (On Closed Doors)
I saw her there from afar
Her hair grey charcoal
Takes a drag from her tar
I kissed her a smile
But her blood red shot eye
Said the son never shines on closed doors
It's been eight long years since I saw
The woman who's labored
Since the day I was born
These wrinkles now face
To that cold dark damp place
Where the son never shines on closed doors
She said the son never shines on closed doors
I open to find only hurricanes blow
Take me away back to the green fields of May
Because the son never shines on closed doors
Death comes like a theif in the night
To steal while you sleep
The soul's flickering licght
Well maybe it's then
She said
song performed by by Flogging Molly from Drunken Lullabies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For The Rest Of My Life
for the rest of my life
i will take the same routine
home, office, school,
home office, school,
a straight life confined
in a certain space
too confined and too
tight for my soul
and too boring
for my body
home, office, school,
school, home, office,
you ask me if there is
something wrong with
my life? there is nothing
right in it, everything has
always been wrong
and everyday has always
been an attempt to correct
it, but nothing
nothing has fit into it
to cut the routine to
break me from the
chains of everyday
nothing comes and nothing
goes, i think, that is how
it is meant to be,
i think, i simply have
to imagine, make some
figments of stars, and moon
and sun and mountains
and seas and valleys
and castles and princesses
and kings and queens
and too they become routine
too, some poems and stories
some people that do not
actually exist, some imaginary
earth, imaginary creatures
they are all here, in this routine
of imaginations, of poetics
of illusions and allusions,
these lines, my life, these routine
and all my excuses, you and I.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Defend New Zealand
God of Nations at Thy feet,
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free land.
Guard Pacific's triple star
From the shafts of strife and war,
Make her praises heard afar,
God defend New Zealand.
Men of every creed and race,
Gather here before Thy face,
Asking Thee to bless this place,
God defend our free land.
From dissension, envy, hate,
And corruption guard our State,
Make our country good and great,
God defend New Zealand.
Peace, not war, shall be our boast,
But, should foes assail our coast,
Make us then a mighty host,
God defend our free land.
Lord of battles in Thy might,
Put our enemies to flight,
Let our cause be just and right,
God defend New Zealand.
Let our love for Thee increase,
May Thy blessings never cease,
Give us plenty, give us peace,
God defend our free land.
From dishonour and from shame,
Guard our country's spotless name,
Crown her with immortal fame,
God defend New Zealand.
May our mountains ever be
Freedom's ramparts on the sea,
Make us faithful unto Thee,
God defend our free land.
Guide her in the nation's van,
Preaching love and truth to man,
Working out Thy glorious plan,
God defend New Zealand.
poem by Thomas Bracken
Submitted by anonym
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Closed Doors Of The Mind
No one knows what goes on behind
the closed doors of the mind.
Thoughts that sometimes inspire
the deeds that transpires.
Many have tried to find the key
to unlock the secrets that are enclosed within,
buried deep behind
the closed doors of the mind.
The lust and deprivation
that sometimes conspire
to be set free
or the eternal love of life
that can rise to the fore.
Both are hidden in the crevasses
behind the closed doors of our mind.
15 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Behind Closed Doors
(kenny odell)
My baby makes me proud
Lord, dont he make me proud
He never makes a scene
By hangin all over me in a crowd
cause people like to talk
Lord, dont they like to talk
But when they turn out the lights
I know hell be leavin with me
And when we get behind closed doors
Then I let my hair hang down
He makes me glad that Im a woman
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
My baby makes me smile
Lord, dont he make me smile
Hes never far away
Or too tired to say I want you
And Im always a lady
Just like a lady should be
But when they turn out the lights
Hes still my baby to me
And when we get behind closed doors
Then I let my hair hang down
Oh, he makes me glad Im a woman
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Oh, behind closed doors
I let my hair hang down
Im glad that Im a woman
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
I let my hair hang down
He makes me glad Im a woman
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors
And when we get behind closed doors
Then I let my hair hang down
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come and love me,
Come and love me,
Come and love me,
Love me know that Iam unfeigned,
Either way Iam making a sway with my sorrow,
I did alot of mistake's,
Now I need to calm and understand life's concept,
Come and love me,
There is the redeemer's voice,
That I need to wake up from all my sorrow's,
Change these pattern's that I may increase skills,
Agile and deft pattern's,
It's all a pattern not worthied a Stigma.
poem by Abdul Karim
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Behind Closed Doors
My baby makes me proud
Lord, don't she make me proud
she never makes a scene
By hangin' all over me in a crowd
'Cause people like to talk
Lord, don't they love to talk
But when they turn out the lights
I know she'll be leavin' with me
And when we get behind closed doors
Then she let's her hair hang down
And she makes me glad that I'm a man
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
My baby makes me smile
Lord, don't she make me smile
she's never far away
Or too tired to say I want you
She's always a lady
Just like a lady should be
But when they turn out the lights
She's still my baby to me
'Cause when we get behind closed doors
Then she let's her hair hang down
And she makes me glad I'm a man
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
song performed by by Charlie Rich, lyrics by Kenny O'Dell from Behind Closed Doors (1973)
Submitted by Jeffrey Kosloske
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Behind closed doors
Doors made of steel
others made of wood
life going on behind them
things that are bad and good.
Doors that are always closed
while some are forever open wide
behind doors can lie secrets
and where people can go to hide.
A door opened to a new future
another one blocking your way
families at war behind the door
but where children can happily play.
Prisoners locked in behind solid doors
waiting for the key to turn in the lock
as lonely people sit in their homes
waiting for someone just to knock.
The doors of Gold created in Heaven
only opened for the chosen few
behind them lies an eternal life
but will they open for me or you?
poem by Kevin Halls
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There For A Reason
Anyone choosing to go against a grain,
Believing that nicks seen in an established pattern...
Isn't noticed,
But gets pricked for efforts to remove them...
For a smoother surface.
Will learn soon enough...
To leave what appears obvious alone.
Since what is 'not' obvious to many,
May be there for a reason to condone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unintended Blunder
Accepting and foolish,
Is the one who believes...
That derogatory statements made,
Are spoken by the one unaware...
Of their content.
And those who make attempts,
To mask their offensive actions meant...
Do it to get attention for their misdeeds.
With a pleading for a forgiveness,
As if an unintended blunder has been made.
People with open mouths,
Know exactly what comes out of them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thoughts After Sex
after sex
people sleep
that is the
usual exit that
people who want
to escape seem
to know and do
they sleep
the routine keeps
going like
house, office,
office, house
roads, doors
doors, road
after sex
the usual exit
is closed
you look at the
ceiling trying to
open another
door
but there isn't
any.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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