With A Sitting On The 'Left' Side
Anything that deals,
With that which should be rightfully done...
Is regarded by many,
To be antics of those liberal.
With a sitting on the 'left' side.
Leaving those feeling entitled and self righteous,
To do whatever it is they choose as liked.
Wherever for them there is an advantage.
However...
With a preference to view themselves,
Conservatively fixed with sights on the right...
And blinded by the self servicing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
From Their Point Of View
There will always be those who choose to see life,
From their point of view.
And not necessarily from their own experiences.
As many feeling entitled excuse themselves to do.
There will always be those who choose to see life,
And the struggles others endure...
From movies, widening TV screens,
Or binoculars used as they peer from behind trees...
To validate a faking of a wisdom often to be argued,
With the ones who have received their completed lessons...
Taught fresh from the trenches to prove with wounds,
They did not sit to observe someone else fighting their battles.
There will always be those who choose to see life,
From their point of view.
And not necessarily from their own experiences, either!
As many feeling entitled excuse themselves to do.
And others will volunteer as a sacrifice to feel as a duty,
To assist in securing freedoms for all as promised.
With a few who will come to assist in providing comfort,
Or express an appreciation and with respect...
To the ones who will always associate life,
With a feeling of mental and physical pain for their efforts.
And this is the view many refuse to acknowledge.
Since to do it they will have to admit a reality exists.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who stands with me?
True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.
Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.
Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.
I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.
I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best
Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.
But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.
The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.
Monday,06 December 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Nothing
Shot down your instincts, turned into a freak
You said this was your first time
How fast changes come for you to finally see
Shallow plains for you to find what you...
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
Noooo nothing left...
Stuck in with no way out a gift for your grief
Shattered your thoughts of a good thing that you never had
Hopelessly knowing whats right or wrong
Can't stop the feeling, it comes so strong
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
Noooo...
Observe nature from a black top view
Left you defenseless hoping for defeat
Built on my fears
Confession of obsession
One day happy place for you to hide
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left for me!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
With this ghost on my side!
There's something left
With you in my life!
There's nothing left!
Nothing left, nooo...
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Antics Fat Cats In Silk Suits Choose
So far to the right,
They are out of their own focus.
And inspite of what they say and do...
Only criticism of what is done,
On the left side...
Is what they pursue,
To keep the public confused!
With a merry-go-round of antics,
Fat cats in silk suits choose...
To demoralize correctness.
And leave many singing the blues.
Since they see themselves as 'chosen'.
And the folks who they ignore,
Are used and accustomed to being abused!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God reigns when we take a liberal view, when a liberal view is presented to us.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Left Foot, Right Foot
left foot, right foot,
left foot, right foot,
eyes fixed straight ahead....
drawn by the spectre
of our own greed;
use it up, throw it out,
use it up, throw it out....
hardened and lifeless,
eaten from within
by the maggots of ego...
deaf to the cries
of our own children,
blinded by the 'God'
of cyber technology...
strip the fields,
cut down the forests...
mine the mountains,
we pee in our own
drinking water, and
walk away....
leaving nuclear tracks
in the womb of time.
left foot, right foot,
left foot, right foot...
marching blindly to hell
with drool on our chins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Little Of It Will Be Done
When thinking is regarded an option,
Little of it will be done.
And those who choose to do it...
Will not be embraced or regarded favorably.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Residency There Is Permanent
You have a bird's eye view...
With a crowing done you do.
To boast about nonstop.
From your position...
At the top.
And you believe to keep it,
Is an ease to block.
As you remain where you are...
Secured in a safety zone,
Kept locked with eyes on stars.
But like some others,
You can hit rock bottom.
And whether you like it or not...
It is recommended,
To stop and avoid your peacocking.
No residency there is permanent.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Odds you choose will lose.
Don't be that big a fool.
You have a bird's eye view...
Don't be that big a fool.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Someone's always there to circumvent.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.
And you believe to keep it,
Is an ease to block.
As you remain where you are...
Secured in a safety zone,
Kept locked.
But no...
Residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Odds you choose will lose.
Don't be that big a fool.
Today you've got that view...
Tomorrow you could lose!
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Today you've got that view...
Tomorrow you could lose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stepped Out With A Greeting Of My Fate
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
Way pass mechanics,
With a seeing 'it' as it is...
And with examined antics that can panic,
Leaving those hopes on automatic...
Disappointing but coping,
With emotional deficits...
I feel I have an advantage.
Why bob for apples...
When from trees they can be picked.
Way pass mechanics and antics that can panic.
Why seek surprises...
From those hiding behind disguises.
No longer with automatic hopes,
To inspire lumps left in my throat.
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
Disappointing but coping,
With emotional deficits to leave to learn...
It is my life I must face.
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
Disappointing but coping,
With emotional deficits to leave to learn...
It is my life I must face.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Is All I Can Do
Father...
I am doing the best I can,
To keep my eye fixed upon You.
Doing the best I can,
Father.
To keep You focused,
Glued in my view.
And,
Yes...
I know what it means to stray.
You have been with me everyday.
So you have seen that happen!
And,
Yes...
I know the circumstances,
Of my actions.
When I have not obeyed.
And to awaken afraid to suffer,
Through those consequences.
With a feeling of enemies approaching.
As I would sneak to take a peek...
From behind closed curtains.
To discover those fears,
Making a 'home' inside me.
Father God...
I am doing the best I can.
I choose to prove I can do much better.
By preparing to combat,
Those storms that confront me.
Those that come.
Giving me reason to run!
But You will not allow it.
You wish me to sit...
Trembling.
As I experience every bit of thunder,
That roars.
I cringe when passing by those lessons you teach.
Everyday when I walk across many diverse streets.
Trying to understand,
I do.
Why there is unhappiness all around.
And why those who claim to have faith...
Stumble disrespectfully on solid ground!
You teach...
That I do not want that for me.
You teach with such vivid depictions.
Father...
I am doing the best I can,
To keep my eye fixed upon You.
Yes,
It is true.
I try doing the best I can,
Father.
To keep You focused,
Glued in my view.
And that is all I can do,
My Father.
Until You...
My Guiding Light,
Disapprove of it!
With a wish not to ever,
Get You upset.
With false steps I take.
Father God...
I am doing the best I can.
And I choose to prove I can do much better.
Quickly.
Before repeating...
Any of Your lessons.
And that is all I can do,
My Father.
Until You...
My Guiding Light,
Disapprove!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In a Roam Zone
When in a roam zone,
Where does one go...
After tempers flair?
And what is left staring,
Are the facts.
In undeniable contradiction...
Of those truths carried,
Historically on one's back!
Where does one roam,
When this becomes known.
Where does one roam,
When assessments are complete.
And one awakens drooling,
Deluged by deceit one took to a deep sleep.
Where does one then choose to roam?
With a feeling of suspicion even in one's home!
And finding themselves overwhelmed by distrust.
Neighbors once close are now regarded with disgust.
Found hiding in disguises as if they must.
Where does one then roam?
When truth has been expose to leave one to feel alone...
Where does one then go,
Feeling isolated and in a complicated mental state of mind!
Where does one then go...
When feeling alone and in a roam zone to call one's own.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We have the Fine Guidance Sensors, one of which we will exchange out of three. Another one we changed on the last servicing mission, and on the fourth servicing mission in 2003 or 2004, the third one will be exchanged.
quote by Claude Nicollier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Continued Bait to Incite
A continued bait to incite racial tensions is thrown.
In some regions this becomes inflated.
And daily debated.
In other parts it is a way of life.
Some feel entitled...
Because their skin is either black or white.
And none of this makes sense.
Especially when fences to protect and defend them...
Are being demolished,
By those buying up the land
The Native Indians had...
Before any of this foolishness began!
Leaving those with their 'differences'
And qualified ignorance...
Blinded with exposed behinds!
Left to stand with opened hands,
Begging for a place to lay their heads.
Proving what is fed...
Comes out in the end.
To spread and fertilize,
What no one can claim they own!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Throes of Change
Today, we’re in the throes of change, as men attempt to rearrange,
With ideas that come and go, the ways of life we’ve come to know.
With political change in the wind, proven ways they want to rescind,
Behaviors prescribed by our Lord; the only ones that have endured.
But, like the flower and the grass, all political rhetoric, too will pass,
Even after men’s votes are cast, their imposing plans shall not last.
As many campaigning on our sod, have truly forgotten a Holy God,
In a land so blessed by Him, they instead, support the people’s sin.
Calling their ideas progressive still, while they go against God’s will,
His Righteous will for our land, is a thinking they do not understand.
They’re on the left, not the right, as they stray further from His Light,
They claim to represent everyone, except men who love God’s Son.
God’s Word speaks of their path, as it touches on folly’s aftermath,
Noting the wise lean to the right, as they avoid the folly of the night,
While the foolish, to the left side, where all Godly wisdom is denied,
While ignoring God’s Revelation, men change us into a liberal nation.
Such thinking is an affront to God, Who rules with a Righteous Rod,
Who could very well install over us, a leader who all the liberals trust,
To weaken further a moral base, that is sliding far from God’s Grace,
All because of changing days, which deny all God’s Righteous ways.
(Copyright ©02/2008)
People
To those fixed on white,
White is white,
To those fixed on black,
It is the same,
And red is red,
Yellow, yellow-
Surely there are such sights
In the many colored world,
Or in the mind.
The strange thing is that
These people never see themselves
Or you, or me.
Are they not in their minds?
Are we not in the world?
This is a curious blindness
For those that are color blind.
What queer beliefs
That men who believe in sights
Disbelieve in seers.
O people, if you but used
Your other eyes
You would see beings.
poem by Jean Toomer
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It Could Only Mean One Thing
My mission is to excite.
Not to bore as if that was my expertise.
Reaching to innovate and create new approaches,
To observations is what I seek to do.
That one could addendum what has been done,
For some is a preference.
And is a preference someone else dictates,
Really a 'preference' one independently makes?
Or is it just easier to accept to later throw away?
My mission is to excite.
Not to bore as if that was my expertise.
Reaching to innovate and create new approaches,
To observations is what I seek to do.
And if it seems I intentionally attempt to attract attention...
Well...
I'll put it this way,
If one is doing what one wishes to do...
And if this should attract attention?
It could only mean one thing.
Some find it difficult to do what it is they choose,
Without getting approval or feeling accepted.
And...
Well,
A seeking of acceptance hasn't done a thing to improve...
The quality of life that has been devalued as 'approved'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blinded
Just an old friend coming over
Now to visit you and
That's what I've become
I let myself in
Though I know I'm not supposed to but
I never know when I'm done
And I see you fogging up the mirror
Vapor around your body glistens in the shower
And I wanna stay right here
And go down on you for an hour
Or stay and let the day just fade away
In a wild dedication
Take the moment of hope
And let it run
Never look back
At all the damage we have done now
To each other
To each other
To each other
But when I see you
It's like I'm staring down the sun
And I'm blinded
There's nothing left to do
and still I see you
I never believe that things that they happen for a reason
And they never go as planned
I wanted to thank you for a vision that was lost that you returned
But you're past where you understand
Now her appetite is blown
Little else is known
'cept she's a little angry
Grabs a towel, looks away
The heat fades with the day
And I fall down on what to say
oh something clean, let me be clever
Hey oh well, whatever
But that's not what I mean
Where we're been has left us burnt still
I wont turn now from a fight
You know I'll never win
cos when I see you
you know all the things I've done
and I am blinded
Like I'm staring down the sun
When I see you
When I see you
When I see you
It's like I'm staring down the sun
Yeah!
(Hey! I'm Blinded!)
Time it passes and it tells us what we're left with
We become the things we do
Me, I'm a fool spent from defiance, yeah you got me but
I didn't give up on you
But the rest is not a t-shirt or a swan song, no
Heat is born again and
It's not easy being me
When I can't promise I will mend
Or bend when you believe
That we are fixed now from our birth
And I've just fallen back to earth
Still you know I'll try again
Cause I believe that we are lucky
We are golden
We have stolen manners in the days when we were one
So when I see you
In spite of all that we've become
I'm still blinded
But I'm still staring down the sun
When I see you
When I see you
When I see you
When I see you
Oh yeah
I'm still staring down the sun
Oh yeah
I'm still staring down the sun
Oh yeah
Well I'm still staring down the sun
I'm blinded
When I see you
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Progressive Minds
Progressive liberals with a cause, covering over their spiritual flaws,
Saying what many want to hear; concerning God, they have no fear.
Progressing with the moral tides, on immoral waves the party rides,
As they drift far away from God, while leading with a confident nod.
Progress for all they say they make, as Godly morals they forsake,
Wanting to be all things to all, perpetuates the curse of Adam’s fall.
Bringing upon this mighty land, The Sovereign God’s uplifted hand,
One raised up in Righteous Wrath, against their liberal immoral path.
Many liberal minds in one accord, running a nation without The Lord,
Being followed by a large multitude, caught in a darkened servitude.
Though God may be on their lips, not in their heart, but liberal quips,
To build their liberal agenda friend, which has eternal ruin at the end.
Opposing God’s Righteous Decree, they desire to lead you and me,
Filled with liberal pundits galore, regarding truth, want less not more,
While liberal heroes they raise up tall, moral views they see as small,
Turning conservative concerns into, immoral agendas they’ll pursue.
They approve evil across the board, as the moral issues go ignored,
Counseling together in wickedness, despising God’s Righteousness,
Filling the land with darkened lies, professing to be the best of wise,
With wisdom apart from God, who’s returning soon with an Iron Rod.
(Copyright ©08/2008)
The only Way to go.
Some choose to grow old quietly
but others take a different view.
They chose to live disgracefully.
Why should you give up having fun.
Because you’ve reached a certain age.
There are still things you haven’t done.
You want to do before you die
Though your time may be limited.
You see no reason not to try
To make your madcap dreams come true.
Why should you sit and vegetate
as other folks expect you to.
You are the captain of your fate.
So you can do what you want to.
Tomorrow may be far too late.
So do it now immediately.
Regardless of the consequence.
What does it matter anyway?
Society may not agree.
You have the right to your own view
Choose to act disgracefully.
You’ll find that life is much more fun
than sitting watching the T.V.
Show the world you’re still someone
Seize every opportunity
that life’s prepared to offer you.
To shock your neighbours thoroughly.
They choose to sit and wait to die.
You choose to do the opposite.
You won’t surrender easily/
But fight until your final breath
because it is your nature to
Although you know you can’t beat death.
You know that one day you must die
but until then you choose to live
Just as you wish disgracefully.
01/09/09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Other Side Of The Door
If it takes one key,
To open one door...
With opportunities awaiting,
On the other side of it.
WHY would anyone choose to sit,
Ignoring what has been given...
Because they have decided,
If what is on the other side...
Would be something,
They would choose to like.
And...this is BEFORE,
Any approach was made...
By them towards the door.
If it takes one key,
To open one door...
With opportunities awaiting,
On the other side of it.
And one does not take advantage of this,
But wishes to be given clues and hints?
That key...
That opens that one door,
With opportunities awaiting?
Has been given to someone...
Looking for their ship to sail in.
Even if that ship was on the other side of the door.
'Captain?
We are still awaiting for the arrival of your chosen passenger.
Perhaps there has been a misunderstanding? '
~Do not worry about it.
We will cater to the ones who did use their keys.
We are not here to convince.
Just service.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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