Wished to Be Revived
It came
It is
It could have been.
It should
It was
It laid there to the end.
A promise of an opportunity...
Wished,
To be revived.
In times recognized,
By those with opened eyes.
But too late...
To revise.
For those contemplating,
Its use to update...
The outdated façades,
Long cracked and too faded.
To renovate,
Recycled debates for changes needed...
By those who plead,
To keep disguised and efforts masked!
As tasks no one grasps...
Smothers under dust!
And blows away,
Cleared by tempered winds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Bouyant Madness
Everyday.
That's when I 'update' my thought process.
Everyday...
There is something to add,
To a perception...
Easily outdated,
By the rush of bouyant madness.
Everyday I pray,
'Dear God...
Is it okay if I go into a rage and cuss?
Is it okay if I raise my right eyebrow...
To give my left one a rest?
Is it okay if I should punch someone in the face!
Then beg for Your forgiveness, My Father? '
Everyday...
It seems I am straying further away,
From the ideals of Mother Teresa!
And yes...
It is 'everyday' that I 'update' my thought process.
To add to a perception,
Easily outdated...
By the rush of bouyant madness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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He Loves!
He loves! If in the bygone years
Thine eyes have ever shed
Tears - bitter, unavailing tears,
For one untimely dead -
If in the eventide of life
Sad thoughts of her arise,
Then let the memory of thy wife
Plead for my boy - he dies!
He dies! If fondly laid aside
In some old cabinet,
Memorials of thy long-dead bride
Lie, dearly treasured yet,
Then let her hallowed bridal dress -
Her little dainty gloves -
Her withered flowers - her faded tress -
Plead for my boy - he loves!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Undertow
The pain is gone
The rain and storm they stumble down
The sun disguised again today
The wagon rolls, its axis bound
Another bottle cracked today
The game moves on
The people push and move so hard
Where now dont those flavors go
Answer now
Your questions move like undertow
Off to find your island now
We got pulled out by the undertow
Thats the way the wind blows
Everybodys laughing
We got pulled out by the undertow
Thats the way the wind blows
Too long today
We got pulled out by the undertow
Thats the way the wind blows
song performed by by Ugly Kid Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everywhere And Not Rare
They wish to project their beliefs on others,
To protect their own insecurities.
Cold shouldered and indifferent.
Distant and aloof participants,
In the passing judgement game.
They do not show their envy.
Just express it enough,
For that to be understood.
They don't realize their tasks are masked.
Or that they wear sheep clothing,
Bearing teeth like wolves.
They believe their fake smiles,
Keep them hidden in camouflage.
But anyone who has lived and learned...
Do not find them at all odd!
Not when façades like these...
Are determined to satisfy,
Only themselves to please!
And folks like these...
Are not few to spare.
They are here.
They are there.
They are everywhere,
And not rare!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cracked
Piped and smacking munchies.
Cracked while passing lit delights.
Strung out to numb...
Any thoughts,
Of making decisions that come!
Relaxed and cracked.
Listening to rap tracks.
Fizzled minds gaining nothing learned!
Burning generations to crispy creatures.
As elders watch...
With wise eyes fixed on their demise,
And realizing much too late...
The tick tocking of a clock that's heard,
Does not wait...
For belated actions to solve their fates,
In debates to delay the doom that awaits.
Or flaws to be corrected in the laws all break!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Never Too Late
(gary rossington -- johnny vanzant -- hughie thomasson -- rickey medlocke)
In this world that we all live in
Its all takin and theres no givin
Before its too late,somethings gotta change
Go to work every day for the dollar
Doesnt matter were all blue collar
At the end of the day
Nothin lost, nothin gained
But its about time we realized
Its about time we opened our eyes
Take one step back and look at yourself
Do you like what you see
Oh no
Cause its never too late
Doesnt matter who you are
Its never too late
Hold on to your dreams and they will take you far
Cause its never too late
No, no, no
So many times Ive seen you cryin
But I see you out there still tryin
Workin hard just to get through another day
As a freind Im here to remind you
We all have a place to belong to
Who am i? see Im just like you
But its about time we realized
Its about time we opened our eyes
Take one step back and look at yourself
Do you like what you see
Oh no
Cause its never too late
Doesnt matter who you are
Its never too late
Hold on to your dreams and they will take you far
Cause its never too late
We all need a helpin hand sometimes
And I need one if you were mine
So right here, right now
You can count on me
Just open your eyes and you will see
That its never too late
No,no,no
Cause its never too late, it doesnt matter who you are
Its never too late
Hold on to your dreams and they will take you far
Cause its never too late
Cause its never too late, it doesnt matter who you are
Its never too late
You dont need a guitar son to be a star
Cause its never too late
No, no, no
Its never too late
No
Cause its never too late
Take a look around
Cause its never too late
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Break Down The Door
Music by: Barry Manilow and Bob Gaudio
Lyrics by: Enoch Anderson
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not the man I used to be
Fell down a time or two
When luck was lookin' out for me
I missed the knock
And never knew
I let you go
But you can't get away from me again
Do you want me to plead?
Do you want me to cry?
Any proof that you need
Any promise you'll buy
Do you want me to break down the door
Do you want me to break down the door
Break down the door
You say you saw me lose control
Look now I'm in the lead
And you can have me heart and soul
I'm overhauled
And guaranteed
What do you say
Why don't you take a chance
on me again
Do you want me to plead?
Do you want me to cry?
Any proof that you need
Any promise you'll buy
Do you want me to break down the door
Do you want me to break down the door
Break down the door
Can't say for sure what's comin'
It ain't what's gone before
Except we had some damn good times
And I know we both want more
Do you want me to plead?
Do you want me to cry?
Any proof that you need
Any promise you'll buy
Do you want me to break
Do you want me to break down
Do you want me to break down the
Do you want me to break down the door
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Soldier's Dismissal
You did it.-they said
I’ve always done, no aid
Any more tasks? – they asked
Now I’ve got none.- he masked
Now you can go.-they said
Yes, now I know I’m dead.
Mission complete. – they said
No force to compete, no aid.
Will you be back? -they asked
Think I lost the track.-he masked
The war is over –they said-
Moreover it’s never been.
The war is over- he said-
Moreover it’s never seen.
Not real, it’s a deal?
Sir, yes, sir, nothing more to stir!
This soldier’s dismissed, no aid.
And tombstone kissed, undead-
They said.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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~ PSYCHOSOMATIC FURNITURE ~ RECYCLING ~ RECYCLING ~ [New Year Bouquet ~ niv]
~ PSYCHOSOMATIC FURNITURE ~ RECYCLING ~ [New Year Bouquet ~ niv]
Ms. Nivedita
UK
30 December,2009.
Our bodies are
Recycled five Primordial Elements.
Our Microcosms are
Recycled fragments of Macrocosm.
Our body humors are
Recycled ‘Original Sap’
Our breaths are
Recycled zephyrs.
Our phonations are
Recycled Archie Euphony OM.
Our beauties are
Recycled fineries of mind.
Our colors are
Recycled VIBGYOR.
Our thoughts are
Recycled informations.
Our emotions are
Recycled imaginations.
Our actions are
Recycled inclinations.
Our knowledges are
Recycled reflective ‘Wisdom’.
Our hates are
Recycled self devaluations.
Our loves are
Recycled ‘Supreme Love’.
Our beneficences are
Recycled Sattva Gunas’.
Our energies are
Recycled ‘Omni Energy’.
Our workholisms are
Recycled ‘Rajas Gunas’.
Our sorrows are
Recycled ungratifications.
Our egotisms are
Recycled myopic self.
Our greeds are
Recycled void feelings.
Our fury and funks are
Recycled ‘Tamas Gunas’.
Our raptures are
Recycled spark of ‘Bliss’.
Our rebirths are.
Recycling of ‘Jiva-Atmans’.
Our ‘Jiva-Atmans’ are
Recycled minuscule of ‘Param Atman’.
All our recyclings are
Recycled obliviousness of
Our innate ‘Scendlessness’.
Glossary:
OM: The basis of all sounds, universal ‘symbol-word’ for God. -Veda
Gunas: Three attributes of Nature
Sattva: Expansion, Intelligence, Wisdom.
Rajas: Activity, Energy, Struggle.
Tamas: Obstruction, Mass, Ignorance, Inertia.
Atman: The Divine within the self.
Param Atman: Suprememe ‘Self’, All Highest, Secondless.
Jiva-Atmans: Supreme ‘Self’ in miniscule ‘self’.
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Narrow Vision
No interests do I have,
To revive useless concepts.
The time was ripe when they were fresh.
And your acceptance of them now,
Will not 'update' their effectiveness.
You chose to ignore the signs of change.
You did this because you thought I was there,
To make a name.
There to boost my own ego.
Or to produce an advancement of fame!
Guess what?
I had 'that'!
Long before you knew!
Much longer than you have been awakened.
Did you think your tired acts,
Would stop me in my tracks?
And I needed you...
For some personal dream,
That I wished with you pursued?
I am giving!
But not that sacrificial.
I've been motivated to move forward,
For too long!
And you've been there,
With your nose up in the air...
For all the wrong reasons!
Reflecting the benefits,
Of a quality of life...
Uplifting all insights.
You have totally ignored,
By your narrow vision.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Universe (They Have This Need)
Do not become fooled or tricked by them.
The ones who talk of both fear and sin.
Their way of observing life may be coming to its end.
But this Universe is full of abundance.
Perhaps for them there is this 'need' to believe...
What they have created has to be deflated!
There is this need for some to feel defeated.
As if it's up to them who lives to breathe!
There is this need for some to feel defeated.
As if it's up to them who stays and leaves.
And those who play God are on medications long outdated!
And those who play God are on medications long outdated!
And those who play God are on medications over-rated.
Do not become fooled or tricked by them.
The ones who talk of both fear and sin.
Their way of observing life may be coming to its end.
But this Universe is full of abundance.
Perhaps for them there is this 'need' to believe...
What they have created has to be deflated!
And those who play God are on medications long outdated!
And those who play God are on medications long outdated!
And those who play God are on medications over-rated.
(They have this need)
Those who play God are on medications long outdated!
(They have this need)
Those who play God are on medications long outdated!
(They have this need)
Those who play God are on medications long outdated!
And those who play God are on medications over-rated.
(They have this need)
Those who play God are on medications long outdated!
(They have this need)
Those who play God are on medications long outdated!
(They have this need)
Those who play God are on medications long outdated!
And those who play God are on medications over-rated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Improvisations
And in conclusion...
You pretended too many times too long.
Too many times you claimed I was the one wrong.
And to me it matters not,
If that is argued until your lips drag and drop.
I'ved stopped my mental rendevous with you.
We've touched too much disgust together,
And we're through...dust busted.
Shakened up from the crusting rust.
This is what you wanted to do,
Since someone else laid their eyes on you!
Someone you trained to remain patient.
Sweeping you up in deluded imagination.
With unseen flings to chase!
Jealousy?
That act has been wasted!
How about a disrespect shown,
That others see!
A pride divided I enjoyed carrying high,
Until I stopped watching you mock...
Me and everything about me I am not!
Jealousy?
I wanted to dropp kick you then!
But common sense covered me...
Revealing you had none!
I'm not going to wonder,
Or try to remember back 'when'...
When all of this crap for us started to begin.
I am not the type to defend an excited action gone.
Or repeat to your satisfaction...
Add and not subtract,
Exact times I was wrong!
You get on this cycle and like to ride the nerves,
Until they are raw and ready to flair.
I recognized all movements you have disguised,
And overused with few to spare.
You pretended too many times too long.
Too many celebrated anniversaries!
And one too many of those
Left us cold shouldered
In romantic candlelight,
With flowers and wine...
And our own sad songs!
And to me it matters not,
If that is argued until your lips drag and drop.
I'ved stopped my mental rendevous with you.
We've touched too much disgust together.
This membership I wish not to renew.
And we're through!
This is what you wanted to do,
Since someone else laid their eyes on you!
Slipping to your side,
With the offer to supply...
A dose of 'cheat-on-your-spouse' poison!
Jealousy?
How about a disrespect shown,
That others see!
How about a fading love.
Disappearing quietly.
As you prepare to strap on quick,
Issues back to back like these...
Forgetting they have been shrugged,
And swept under a rug...
Allowing them to bugged us constantly.
I've exterminated the causes!
Jealously is not what I'm feeling,
As I pace and retrace my steps.
I think I've acquired the taste,
To eliminate hesitation!
I'll grab my coat and get up and go.
Unless there is another routine,
You'd like to audition for future scenes?
And don't worry about perfecting it.
You tend to over-rehearse...
Leading one to think,
Even your improvisatons stink...
And should have improved by now? !
But then again,
That might offend.
Since I'm the only one...
Who has had the privilege to know!
Yet keeping appearances of suspense,
Is one of your best attributes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No One There to Empathize
If the path you walk upon,
Has been cleared of brush...
You may find your journey easier,
With less urgency to rush.
You may even stop upon it...
To elect to renovate your findings.
But if you believe this path brings you faster,
To your wishes...
You may become quite upset,
When you begin to realize...
The steps you follow,
Are not yours to correct.
Or can be changed...
To provide your cries for comfort!
And too late,
To recover the time wasted.
With no one there to empathize...
Or validate your complaints.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Faraway
Nested in the far deep,
beyond the the distant tuples of moreish smiles,
beyond the reach of a dayheat intoxicated sleep
faraway but not too long if you walk a few extra miles,
I promise, If you search you shall find.
Beneath the rolling waves of a recycled breath,
on a land formerly unclaimed
faraway from the falling moon and sun's death
through pages of titles unproclaimed
just go...
Beyond poems absorbed by a reflex thought,
between the cracked lines of a failing gravity
where we can only realise that love was never ment to be bought,
Then, true love we shall find!
poem by Mpho Leteng
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Dust
When I went to look at what had long been hidden,
A jewel laid long ago in a secret place,
I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire --
But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face.
I almost gave my life long ago for a thing
That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes --
It is strange how often a heart must be broken
Before the years can make it wise.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Adam
He had awakened from his sleep
and first his eyes opened
and above him the sun shone in its glory,
but a soft an arm folded
somewhat tender over him and strangely
he recognized it as if it was his own.
When he saw her for the first time,
still before her bright eyes folded open,
his breath was taken away as if he
was standing at a similar figure and he stared at her.
When she opened her eyes
he read love and utter joy in their depths
and he was more bewitched and in love
than he knew it to be possible
and to him she was absolutely woman.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Fixed Beliefs
So difficult it has to be,
For many to catch up...
From principles outdated.
And feeding on fast diets of all kinds.
To leave them with poisoned minds,
Stressed...
By a merriment cemented,
To a way of life...
Causing duress with fixed beliefs.
And in fear of reality...
Encroaching upon their precious 'standards'
Kept deluded.
To dismiss this has to be difficult.
To observe it as a witness,
Is a blessing disguised!
Revealed as eyes are opened.
Despite restrictions...
Those feeling suppressed,
Grew.
They had to.
Knowing life offered more than traps.
Beyond displays of isolated hatred...
Graphically mapped,
And strategically studied.
To finally comprehend...
For them,
They are all related...
In blood and need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Faded
Faded photographs
Faded letters
Candlelight evenings
Summer night air
Like an old family heirloom
Or a simple little toy
A kiss on the hand
A brush on the cheek
Covered ballrooms
And once-upon-a times
Age old lullabies
Float around the moon
poem by Autumn Winds
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A Wind From... Elsewhere
The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!
poem by Elga Haymon White
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The Upkeep Of Images
Approaching a broken fence,
With a brush and a can of paint...
Believing to change its appearance,
With a few minutes given to it.
And a mending with a healing,
Of fresh and accepted perceptions...
Would again begin...is quite admirable.
However,
Wouldn't it be better and cost effective,
If denials were rejected?
And a broken fence needing to be removed,
Would be viewed as a needed thing to do?
IF denials and excuses were not used,
To dilute with a diffusing of reality.
'Maybe you are right.
None of us have heard it stated that way.
We have spent millions,
On the upkeep of images...
And outdated appearances.
With a hope our efforts would influence,
Those times we wish unchanged to stay...
With us forever,
In a never-to-age-land of fantasies.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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