With A Standard Sold As Solid Gold
There is more nonsense being rejected today,
Than any other time in people's lives.
And this is the very same nonsense once protected,
To defend...
When it was regarded as a valued commodity 'then'.
With a standard sold as solid gold to hold as it glistened.
But today...
A three dollar bill if found and freshly printed by a circus clown,
Under a tent and on the ground with its image on it...
Would be treasured as having more meaning and purpose,
By those unaware where they are!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost As A Treasured Experience
If it was not meant to be taken seriously,
None of it would have been given to be taken
With a purpose to receive,
And comprehend its meaning.
Instead of comprehending the meaning of it,
It has been left to sit
As of its existence is there to provide,
One a uselessness.
And one who has decided,
That all there is to it was to use
Until the nourishment from it was exhausted.
Then an exhaustion from taking it for granted
Leaves.
If
It was not meant to be taken seriously,
What is the purpose for any of it to exist.
Just to please the existing of the unimportance,
To prioritize an increasing toleration of nonsense.
And
If nonsense continues to increase,
The purpose of witnessing any of this
Diminishes in value to be lost as a treasured experience.
Never to have been found worthy of its priceless blessing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Wrote A Nonsense Poem
I WROTE A NONSENSE POEM
I wrote a nonsense poem
It said a nonsense thing
Yesterday is not today
And winter is not spring.
I wrote a nonsense poem
It didn’t have a name
It began and so fast finished
No wonder I’m ashamed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Portrayed As a Togetherness Wished
So divided and un-united as a people they are.
And so without an identity.
Whatever purpose they had,
Has been deluted into a non-meaning.
At one time the response was high.
With an energy few could deny.
But today some just rather walk away.
Than to receive the many labels dispensed...
From those who claim involvement,
In this kind of delusional nonsense.
Portrayed as a togetherness wished.
But their minds are not uplifted...
From the valleys they travel and kept revisited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The nonsense woman
The nonsense woman lives in our street
She really is not a pleasure to meet
She goes on and on about her cat Mylogie
And makes our day quite foggy
The nonsense woman went to the shops
That was just before she drops
Her cat Mylogie
And got quite soggy
The nonsense woman found another cat
The cat sat on her mat
She called it Tinker
Who was a bit of a stinker
The nonsense woman lay in bed
But to her lonliness and dread
Tinker and Mylogie were both gone
So these days she won't even eat a scone
Very much to our relief
She has got so much grief
She won't even come out her house
And all day is a quiet as a mouse
poem by by unknown author
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To Address As A Valued Standard Formality
People do not want to hear the truth.
Not as it is apply to the activity of reality.
Nor do they want to take time to listen...
With a patience to comprehend,
Anything mentioned to them...
That may be detrimental to their lives.
And with a quickness they find ways,
To fantasize.
However...
A complaining without an end to this,
Many will do...
After learning they have been deceived.
And these very same people,
Do their best to impress with pretensions.
To address as a valued standard formality.
They don't call this deception.
This is preferred to be called social etiquette.
Intermixing with others also associated,
With the giving of false appearances.
As a feeding of nonsense fed is shared between them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Once Enjoyed and Invited
We are not in those times anymore.
When people would choose others,
For their own ignorance...
Unstopped and revolving,
Through the same turnstiles...
To explore and bore.
More people are awakening,
To what time 'today' is.
With less of them wasting it,
To let go and live.
The ones who found gossip,
Whispered from ear to ear.
Find it almost impossible...
To ignite any intrerest,
With someone equally inquisitive.
We are not in those times,
Anymore.
When people would choose others,
For their own ignorance...
To Explore increasing boredom.
And more and more,
People are re-evaluating values.
Finding it difficult,
To do as they choose...
And have others listen too!
Once enjoyed and invited,
People seem today quicker to admit...
A deeper meaning sought,
Than the routine of nonsense...
That finds them sick of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is...
too much time has been
spent for nonsense
but somehow this nonsense
keeps us directed into something light and blissful
it is or could be odd
but it is fair enough
morning takes its meaning
from what others claim as nothing
so much time still must be wasted
it is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time's Up
wake up, face the future
cause I feel I have to salute you
on the things that's goin on, in this world today
you can run, but you can't hide
you have to find your sense of pride
to let you know, that this world, will never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
brothers and sisters, grab a hold
there's a story solid as gold
we must try to stay alive
we must strive, and never slip away
where there's sunshine, there is rain
where there is joy there will be pain
we must move, m?--? move
we must move, and never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
yo yo my brother my brother
let me lay it on the downstroke
I want you to know that I will provoke
anything that life will bring
because within these words I have a antidote
the time is comin' for the song that I'm hummin'
to let you know it's later than it's ever been
your time is up, you sad faced clown
now here's da breakdown (da breakdown, da breakdown, da breakdown)
[sung vocals]
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin
it is later, it is later, it is later, than it's ever been
keep on movin', and grab a hold
the life you livin', must have control
we can do it, we can do it, we can do it, if we try
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin
it is later, it is later, it is later, than it's ever been
keep on movin', and grab a hold
the life you livin', must have control
we can do it, we can do it, we can do it, if we try
[spoken style]
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maybe Today
Maybe today
Maybe tomorrow
Maybe someday
Things shall be any different
Than they are today
Maybe today the moon shall smile
Maybe today the world will dance
To the music and rhythm of yesterday’s drums
Maybe today our visions will rise to its Zenith
Maybe today we shall walk on the wire of our purest imaginations
Maybe today is all we have to become the architects of our fate
Maybe today is the perfect time to make peace
Maybe today is the best day chosen to forgive and let go
Maybe today is the time to be better people than we were yesterday
Maybe today is the best day to say ”AM SORRY”
Maybe today is the day to climb the highest mountain of purpose.
Who knows what tomorrow has in store?
poem by Irenio Irenaeus Bero
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Personalized Garbage
What better day is it than today,
To trash and put out on the curb...
All disturbing nonsense.
Every single bit of it.
Without a need to start an argument.
Like a chore over time that has been ignored,
Sack all that crap stored...
To get rid of it.
And set it out to stay away permanently....
From your front door.
And if it should be passed as you leave,
To get some fresh air inhaled and exhaled to breathe...
Don't acknowledge you are familiar with it.
If you do recognize this as personalized garbage,
Again it will be yours to reluctantly admit.
What better day is it than today,
To trash and put out on the curb...
All disturbing nonsense.
Every single bit of it.
Without a need to start an argument.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wished In Retrospect
How legitimate can contributions,
Of a poet made can be?
If comparisons are made to another poet,
Who spoke from a time...
When poets expressed themselves,
From a different philosophy...
That occurred in a past be gone history.
I always accepted poetry to be commentaries,
Of that which depicted activities existing.
But there are those who today compare,
A cobbledstoned road of yesteryear...
To a highway today needing constant updating.
Since those who travel on it...
Have mentioned little interest,
Of using a covered horsedrawn wagon!
And most people afraid,
Will always attempt to validate nonsense.
Since this nonsense becomes romanticized...
As a time when exquisite etiquette was expressed,
As wished in retrospect...
By those whose ancestors were highly illiterate.
And lived amongst themselves in a welcomed ignorance.
And some like me are today told...
Our poetry is not European,
Therefore the quality of it...
Will never achieve exquisiteness.
And I sit to compose caring less,
About comments made by those...
Who have chosen themselves,
As images of correctness...
When generations of them,
Have chosen to digress!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time's Up (Dust Mix)
[spoken style]
wake up, face the future
cause I feel I have to salute you
on the things that's goin on, in this world today
you can run, but you can't hide
you have to find your sense of pride
to let you know, that this world, will never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
brothers and sisters, grab a hold
there's a story solid as gold
we must try to stay alive
we must strive, and never slip away
where there's sunshine, there is rain
where there is joy there will be pain
we must move, m?--? move
we must move, and never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
yo yo my brother my brother
let me lay it on the downstroke
I want you to know that I will provoke
anything that life will bring
because within these words I have a antidote
the time is comin' for the song that I'm hummin'
to let you know it's later than it's ever been
your time is up, you sad faced clown
now here's da breakdown (da breakdown, da breakdown, da breakdown)
[sung vocals]
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin
it is later, it is later, it is later, than it's ever been
keep on movin', and grab a hold
the life you livin', must have control
we can do it, we can do it, we can do it, if we try
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin-a
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Their Own Creation
Reality has been rejected.
A past that is wished,
Was never respected.
Minds today are confused in indecision.
And biased criticisms,
Have poisoned mentalities.
And yet no one listens.
Those in conflict wish to be understood.
Even those living in once safe neighborhoods,
Wish to leave them,
If they could.
But where would people go...
To prove they have common sense?
That has not been tainted,
By their own nonsense...
That had not been of their own creation.
Where would they go...
And not manifest the same infestation?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Life Was A Circus
If lide was a circus
I'd be your clown,
I'd get on your pony
ride your merry-go-
round.
if life was a circus
under your big tent,
make love with you
forever
we'd be heaven spent.
if life was a circus
in your arena we would
play,
with each other forever
forever, and a day.
but life is not a circus
I am not a clown,
all I can ever do
is watch your merry-go-
round.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Much Of Heaven (rough Edit)
Too much of heaven
Can bring you underground
Heaven
Can always turn around
Too much of heaven
A life and soul hell bound
Heaven
The killer makes no sound
They're still talk about money
That's right and too much of heaven
C'mon my friend
Ley me tell you what it's all about
It's called money dependence today
And people just keep going on looking at the dollar bill
And nothing else around them
No love no friendship nothing else
Just the dollar bill coming on into their pocket
Into their bank account and that's
Too much of heaven bringing them underground
Let me tell you what it's all about
It's called money dependence today
And people just keep going on looking at the dollar bill
And nothing else around them
No love no friendship nothing else
Just the dollar bill coming on into their pocket
Into their bank account
The answer
Is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing
Oh let me tell you what it's all about
Too much of heaven bring you underground
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ludicrous Tricks!
What democracy would breed
Devastation upon its own people?
And to segregate its citizens,
To have some perceive...
They should have better lives,
Because this is what
They have been led to believe.
And to isolate in divisions,
To spread hunger and helplessness.
In a self righteousness...
That digresses all the people,
To endure conflicts
Promoting fear and unrest!
Whose freedom is protected,
When a few selected benefit.
As a quality of life...
Diminishes with this sickness.
And what respect for leadership,
Can be expected from the youth observiing this?
Especially when they mature to know...
What they've been told,
Has been based on lies and ludicrous tricks!
Revered from the pulpits.
And supported by the government!
With a clown assigned to 'play' ringmaster.
Who sets fire to their circus tent!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Once Outraged Are Amongst Those Crazed
The only time familiar faces become missed,
Is when words spoken thought ridiculous...
Were from them direct and sugar free.
To have outraged those to a frenzy.
And today?
Those once outraged are amongst those crazed.
Now...
Those very same honest and direct people,
Are remembered to be reminisced...
As those who spoke with words wished to hear again.
Since time has past to make what had been said 'then'...
More meaningful than ever to those comprehending.
Compared to the nonsense many accept today...
As a way to communicate their sanity,
From wherever it was purchased...
To label it as such!
The minds today are detached!
And to never come back from where they are.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Found In Our Treasured Constitution
Oh...
Today those enraged,
Have become engaged...
With those displaying their outrage.
As they publicly defend their craze.
With excuses made,
About their accepted way of life.
One that incenses the activation of division...
That spreads like a cancer,
To have no ending in sight.
Although they are responsible for conflicts incited,
Like children they are...
Denying they've started any fights.
And yet those who are observing the initiation of all of this...
Do not wish to admit,
They've been influenced by those given microphones...
To air their 'beefs',
That victimizes those innocent.
Oh...
Today those enraged,
Have become engaged...
With those displaying their outrage.
As they publicly defend their craze.
'We have the right to defend,
Any unrest that we begin.
And 'that' can be found in our treasured constitution.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being Direct
I don't know if it was aging,
Or its process...
That increased my desire,
To ensure a peace of mind I found...
Stayed in place.
Or if it began creating itself,
Over time.
And I sought ways to prioritize,
Its importance.
But I will admit this,
The finding of it found...
Has today with me lived to exist.
And being direct is an added bonus,
That allows me to use my age...
To guarantee any nonsense from me stays away.
And this I have noticed...
Without one word from me to say,
I can raise just 'one' eyebrow...
To get my point across.
Either with a frown or a smile,
It does not seem to matter.
Only those who have experienced this,
Can appreciate the value and the benefits...
Of aging with a peace of mind.
And being direct to protect what one has,
To classify it as valued...
Seems to get more respect when one has clearly aged.
However,
There are some exceptions!
Those who do not seem to age gracefully,
Do appear to attract and nag with exurberance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leaders Of The Neighborhood
Why didn't they move on?
Accept reality for what it is.
Instead of paying ridiculous amounts of money,
To have their own homes torn down?
'Someone came around a few years ago,
With a plan to convince them...
If they threatened to do this,
The people would get the hint...
And beg them to stay.
To do whatever they wished in the neighborhood.'
Well...
Hopefully they have learned a lesson.
'Apparently not from what is being observed.
Because those very same people,
Have organized themselves.
To protest the others...
Until they are welcomed back.'
That is nonsense.
It is obvious the people,
Were delighted they did that.
'Nonsense?
That's crazy!
Now they are petitioning the local government,
And have begun an advertising campaign...
To enforce the people into believing,
Without their influence as leaders...
The entire neighborhood,
Would be a place no one would desire to live.'
It is amazing what people will do,
To inflict their delusions on others.
'I'm glad you said that.
But today?
Many more are seeing,
Who has been initiating the conflicts.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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