With The Cleaning Of The Cupboards
They've done everything possible,
To obstruct justice.
With the cleaning of the cupboards.
Now they wish to come back,
To get the cupboards.
Caring less who gets upset,
By such pathetic foolishness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Invading Fungus
Listening to Mozart, looked up - felt shocked
to see black cupboards appearing everywhere
like black mushrooms blooming - an invading
fungus taking over the open-plan office and
destroying the ambience of our previously
rather handsome Kingsley palace
Apparently our Chief Director feels a need for
filing space, thus ordered these monstrosities
to overwhelm us with mustiness & dark sliding
doors, placed upon the cupboards already used
as partitions for privacy - when I see the black
ugliness threatening like burnt fields
I wonder about the nastiness in human hearts
that can inflict such sombreness on innocent
officials already slowing dying in the little work
space allocated to them, what could have pos-
sessed anyone to make cupboards black
like that?
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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A Dream That Can Last
I feel like I died and went to heaven
The cupboards are bare but the streets are paved with gold
I saw a young girl who didnt die
I saw a glimmer from in her eye
I saw the distance, I saw the past
And I know I wont awaken, its a dream that can last
I feel like I died and went to heaven
The cupboards are bare but the streets are paved with gold
And all the lights were turned down low
And no one wondered or had to go
Out on the corner the angels say
There is a better life for me someday
I feel like I died and went to heaven
The cupboards are bare but the streets are paved with gold
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keys To Locks
Those conditioned to perceive themselves,
With undeniable rights...
To receive even when cupboards are bare.
Are those who will never be convinced,
An accustomed abundance...
Has exhausted what has always been believed,
Would be theirs.
A taking and not sharing had been a way of life.
A selfishness fed...
Comforted them in their beds at night.
And disregarding warnings,
Times come that will not be as bright...
For them is not accepted.
Preparing for these days,
They prefer to reject!
Those conditioned to perceive themselves,
With undeniable rights...
To receive even when cupboards are bare.
Are those who will never be convinced,
An accustomed abundance...
Has exhausted what has always been believed,
Would be theirs.
Even indebted to others they owe...
Can not be digested,
In minds isolated with only a selfishness known.
Even those with traditions fixed upon a worship of greed...
Refuse to accept,
Their wishes, wants, desires and needs...
Must be removed from their customes.
Since no longer there...
Are the tricks and treats that once easily pleased.
Even indebted to others they owe...
Can not be digested,
In minds isolated with only a selfishness known.
And...
Those conditioned to perceive themselves,
With undeniable rights...
To receive even when cupboards are bare.
Demand them to be restocked...
From those they owe who have keys to locks.
Those who now...
Command the blocking that stops!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It’s raining bargains-
Buy just two and get seven eh,
Lured, cupboards flooded...
quote by by Mamta Agarwal
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Deliverance In Harmony
When the money is depleted will they cease as enemies?
When they find themselves with cupboards bare,
Will they share this reality?
Or will their stupidity,
Continue as it is?
With divisions they have come to know.
And ignorance to feed.
With stomachs empty...
As they crawl on knees!
'Baritones and sopranos?
Your voices are weakening!
Tenors and altos...
Less vibrato!
I can hardly hear the bass.
Once again.
And folks...
Don't forget,
We are invited to sing...
For the upcoming Unity Festival.
So...
Look alive!
Again...'
When the money is depleted will they cease as enemies?
When they find themselves with cupboards bare,
Will they share this reality?
Or will their stupidity,
Continue as it is?
With divisions they have come to know.
And ignorance to feed.
With stomachs empty...
As they crawl on knees!
'Now 'that' is what I call,
Deliverance In Harmony! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Violent Silence
We seal our mouths
with herbs of bitterness
and drown the words
which communicate.
We let our cold silence
creep in our midst
and let the days
nurture the hurts
that have been long kept
in the cupboards
of our own memories.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Papa above!
61
Papa above!
Regard a Mouse
O'erpowered by the Cat!
Reserve within thy kingdom
A "Mansion" for the Rat!
Snug in seraphic Cupboards
To nibble all the day
While unsuspecting Cycles
Wheel solemnly away!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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No Bits Of Candy
No bits of candy do I have to hand out.
Or other pieces of sweetened treats.
I've come to share observations not ignore them.
With a truth I welcome.
Not versions of dishonesty,
To satisfy those more accustomed to deceit.
With a wish of more of it to feed and feast,
Without a noticing the cupboards are getting bare.
And the reality of 'needs' must be faced.
Whether you pay attention to me or not.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Barns..
Barns the cat,
who knows where it's at.
He torments the dog,
as she sleep like a log.
Jumping at the dog through the air,
bouncing, darting across the floors,
On the tables and chairs,
clawing cupboards and doors.
He's got no cares.
Walks up the walls,
taking no notice of ‘get down' calls!
Yes Barns the cat,
who know where it's at!
guy lipmore.
25/06/92
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Mothers Dilemma Families Delight
It never fails you see,
With my family and me.
Television's playing,
All are relaxed.
Wouldn't you know it,
They all want a snack.
Out to the kitchen,
They parade, one by one.
The cupboards are stocked,
But they can't see,
So it's back to the old T.V.
BUT WAIT! Mother's hungry.
She goes to prepare a simple snack.
Suggestions are coming,
So think, so fast.
Alas, Mothers simple snack,
Has turned into a banquet, no less.
Every thing is ready, a family delight.
Mother, well she has lost her appetite.
poem by Evelyn Bush
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Reclaiming the Ship
Parrot!
Captain has stolen our ship again!
Find me another so that we can
Board and clean the all decks
Free from paper with words
'sadness', 'sorrow' and 'woe'-
All to be shown the plank, got that?
Then hide the ale from view,
Put some magnesium in his soup
(Not too much, you know what that would do) .
Kill some chickens in the coup,
Line the cupboards with the best food.
Then make sure he eats!
And when we hear that belly laugh again,
Set course for buried treasure.
poem by Harriet James
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A little Hope..
When you look but cannot see
You leave but not arrive
Believe but it's beyond the truth
Live life but not alive
When light is total darkness
When sound is silent too
When every day is black as night
And every colour's blue,
When happiness is something less
And friends forget you're there
The only season's winter,
And the cupboards always bare
Find strength where once was weakness
Find love where once was none
Believe that you can beat the odds
Your future's just begun.
poem by Dave James
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To old lovers anywhere.
I am miles away.
Like an old dearly loved obscure song.
A different town.
A different time.
Do not look the same,
Only worse.
The high street would say.
I am miles away!
Not the same person you cared for,
Our little niche was then.
Tucked away in cupboards
Of photos and love poems discarded.
Matierals of long ago.
I drive in a car
Like a lost soul.
Looking for a kindred spirit.
Fearful of another lightless winter.
Waiting for a ship called destiny,
Not seen around here lately.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Emily Dickinson
We think of hidden in a white dress
among the folded linens and sachets
of well-kept cupboards, or just out of sight
sending jellies and notes with no address
to all the wondering Amherst neighbors.
Eccentric as New England weather
the stiff wind of her mind, stinging or gentle,
blew two half imagined lovers off.
Yet legend won't explain the sheer sanity
of vision, the serious mischief
of language, the economy of pain.
poem by Linda Pastan
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Hmph...People
Leave me alone.
'Okay,
I will.'
I'm not talking to you.
'I see.
Then...
Who ARE you talking to? '
No one in particular.
It has been a while since I've said it.
And it is refreshing to know,
You weren't offended at all.
I remember the days,
My saying that would upset you.
'Why should I feel offended?
Or upset.
I was hoping you weren't going to ask me,
Where I am going? '
What?
Where are you going?
'That's none of your business.
And I'm hoping that doesn't offend.
Now you can practice not getting upset.'
Upset?
Why should I get upset?
You're trying to get me upset.
And I'm not a child.
You can do whatever you want.
Who cares?
I don't.
Upset?
Why should I get upset?
You're trying to get me upset.
You can do whatever you want.
Who cares?
I don't.
And what are you laughing about?
'I was only teasing.
I'm not going anywhere.'
Oh yes you are!
You're going to leave me alone.
'Okay,
I will.'
People!
They will do anything to get on your nerves.
Upset?
As if I was that easily provoked!
Hmph...people!
'I heard that.'
Who cares!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's More Than Something You Can Intellectualize
There's a lot more to caring than knowing
There's a lot more to caring than saying
There's a lot more to caring than thinking
You can 'know' you care
Think you care
Convince yourself you care, even think that you genuinely care
But that really isn't fair
If your actions don't match
The attitude of caring
The attitude of loving
It's more
It's more than those who love you
More than those who care for you
It's the ones who don't
It's the ones you don't know
It's those, it's them, they need you most
You can't just walk away
Caring is more than something you can think about
You can't be compassionate and ignore a need
You can't fulfill every need
Where is compassion?
Where is caring?
If it's so much more, what is it that we have?
Is it worth trying?
Won't you fail?
But you forget
Caring is more
It's more than something you can intellectualize
It's more than a concept
It's more than thinking
More than knowing
More than even an action
Caring is a lifestyle
For all those around you
Even beyond yourself
O and one more thing caring isn't about caring about
Yourself.
poem by David Knox
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Evil Woman
Using her guile to her advantage...
Playing a much younger part-
Many believe her yo be but maybe 38-
When she is truly 57 at heart;
Dressing in younger fashions-
She makes her statement in designer wear-
Spending a fortune that they do not have
Opulent, no, their cupboards are near bare;
It's all in her drive to create an image...
Affected with airs of sophistication and charm
Tipping her fedora at you..
But with aims to do you harm;
Watch out-she'll come for you..
Any man who seems to be free...
She will work you with her unsteady compass-
The same way that she played me;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Pace The Beach
This house, this place I call a mansion,
Was rippled with disgust as the rains turned;
Cupboards vibrating, pots dismounting,
The earth was shattering in the hoses.
Quite close we ran into discomforts,
Astonishingly above the horizon the rain came.
It had shared a slight triumph so glaring,
Confirming character of a walled dispute.
My house is a mansion so early and polite,
To pace the beach is my command.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Something We Wish To Prove
From the start,
Again...
We begin,
Again.
To then end,
Again...
To depart.
And we can't seem to admit,
We are addicted but wont commit...
To stop our foolishness,
To know that love we have...
For what it is.
Sit,
We do alone.
Wanting to be touched.
Caring for each other,
And wondering why we break up...
So much.
And we can't seem to admit,
We are addicted but wont commit...
To stop our foolishness,
To know that love...
For what it is.
From the start,
Again...
We begin,
Again.
To then end,
Again...
To depart,
Again.
To sit and lament,
We do alone.
Wanting to be touched.
Caring for each other,
So much.
And wondering why we break up.
To mend together,
Again.
As if,
Without each other...
There is something we wish to prove.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Difficult It Is to Let Go
One can love family so much,
That a growth process becomes smothered.
And an adherence to independence,
Becomes a threat no longer welcomed...
To cross a once accepting threshold.
'If you can not obey by 'my' rules.
Get out! '
People enjoy their comforts as they are.
If stale and moldy?
The better.
And a comfort with this is shown.
As sure as everyone knows...
What is stored in the cupboards.
And who enjoys what to eat.
Difficult it is to let go!
Or even force out of the nest...
One who begins to exert an opinion,
That may upset!
And yet...
Doesn't it seem as if those who have enjoyed their lives best...
Are those who had rebelled and been labelled,
As a nuisance and pests!
And...
After experiencing on their own much hell,
Have return to express that once elusive understanding!
And with a comprehension that is openly confessed,
The logic of sharing expenses.
With a patience that should be addressed.
One can love family so much,
That a growth process becomes smothered.
And an adherence to independence,
Becomes a threat no longer welcomed...
To cross a once accepting threshold.
Until a maturity pleasingly seen is approved.
'That's a good idea.
The sharing of expenses and doing that here! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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