You Don't Know The 'None' Of It
You don't know the 'none' of it.
Guess work does not make it exist.
To say you understand,
When blisters appear on my hands?
You don't know the 'none' of it.
Not with these feelings felt I command.
You don't know the 'none' of it.
You can hear and choose to listen.
But these wounds I bear.
And from them you are distant.
I appreciate the thoughts you share.
And your caring shown I am aware.
But you don't know the 'none' of it.
That's why I insist this chat we chit,
Leave us to land elsewhere defined and planned.
I rather not discuss,
A subject that makes me cuss.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Unhappiness
Unhappiness?
I refuse to accept it.
Or keep it as a gift,
Anyone insist I get and leaves.
I know what it is like,
To unwrap my burdens on another.
And I've grown up since then,
To understand my problems...
Are up to me to end!
Unhappiness?
With a sulking deeply felt.
Aided by a brooding,
And a worthlessness of self.
That is spiced with anger,
To put the blame on someone else!
Only prolongs the agony.
Especially when those near it...
Can't bear any longer to hear it!
Fearing a joy they may choose to have,
Makes someone who is unhappy...
Determined to destroy good feelings.
Until everyone around them is as equally sad!
And doing it,
If they have to use megaphones.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Place To Go To Let It Show Like It Does
Would you hear my voice,
If this was not available?
Could you feel the beating of my heart?
Or touch the many parts of me I share?
Or even knew I was here caring?
You wouldn't know.
I'd be a faceless somebody nobody knew.
As if that makes a difference,
To you right now.
Does it?
Would you hear my voice,
If this was not available?
And if this was not available to either of us...
Would we know who we were to know,
What is shared was always there...
With no place to go to let it show,
Like it does?
And now both of us are aware of it.
Deciding whether or not,
To keep it to ourselves.
Or let what is inside of us out!
Knowing what we do and how we get it done...
Will it be always be done like this?
Or will another way come to us...
To provide a better way,
For this what is done now to then exist?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sitting Seeking Pity
Never will these wounds known that I carry,
Affect you directly.
When I earned my scars you were not involved.
Not to see them inflicted when I enlisted,
Into the military.
Not to hear of my friends being killed and buried.
Or the toil that took on my emotions.
I've already done the numbing of the mind thing.
You were not there,
To see me grieve over the death of my son.
Or the pain I felt blaming myself and everyone,
Regarding how that was done.
Or when both of my marriages ended!
And I was then still quite young.
All you know is what you see.
You have no idea what is inside of me.
Or the devotion I still have for my family.
After years now spent not seeing my mom and dad.
Very close those feelings you will not believe.
Or seeing them die that has left me sad.
Nothing I do has been magically produced.
Even forgiving myself and others,
Has reduced me to tears at times.
When I know of those folks who have sacrificed their lives,
For their beliefs.
As you wallow away in pettiness...
To complain about your issues.
And how from you they wont leave!
While you invite them on a daily basis.
And you say of me for you I show no empathy?
You have no idea how much I care!
I am just not like you.
Sitting seeking pity.
Because my cries for help,
Is all I choose to do!
My knees are not intended,
To be bended and kept knelt!
Never will these wounds known that I carry,
Affect you directly.
I am too aware of those steps I've taken.
I am too aware of what it takes to celebrate life.
And too much aware of a happiness,
I have chosen to separate from what has happened.
Pulled out of despair and dragged away from strife.
I will listen!
But I am not here to compare to share to relive.
Any of your agonies on your sleeve you so willfully give.
I am here to assist your getting over it.
Not to sit with you and feast upon defeat.
I am not that kind of 'friend'.
And those friends you do not need.
So stop rehearsing your tragedies.
Let's take a hike through the park,
And hug a few trees.
Let's express to them our gratitude.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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By Any Other Name
A known betrayal done,
By any other name...
Is a 'betrayal' done just the same.
It is an act to blatantly deceive.
With premeditation planned,
To keep quietly hushed and kept discreet.
Anyone who betrays,
Deserves exactly what they receive.
Whether a remorse filled with guilt.
Or a disgrace shown and given,
From those who feel embittered...
By what to them has taken place.
Expecting empathy and forgiveness,
With a weeping pleading to a loved one...
To understand what they have done.
Are examples of those with minds corrupt.
And like weeds popping up...
Across all lands.
This sickness committed to admit a selfishness...
Few will come to recognize as a tremendous ego trip!
With an overwhelming narcissistic self centered thoughtlessness.
And...
Feelings of an entitlement wished,
That no one else like them can demand.
And those in positions of leadership,
Are not exempt from this.
They are the main ones who feel this way.
With a doing done as they please.
And a caring less,
Who is hurt and offended by their treachery.
No matter how it is addressed to impress...
Those who may be sympathetic,
To the ones like this,
Pathetic!
Anyone who lies to their closest allies...
And dress impeccably with the utmost of etiquette.
Filth and misdeeds are thoughts these people have,
And will not from them leave.
Since they are the beholders of what is perceived,
To be the focal point in their own awe inspiring parade.
'Did you hear...? '
~No I didn't and I don't have a need to listen.
I have only to observe.
I am already affiliated with reality.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Repetitious Are The Ramblings Dished
Repetitious are the ramblings dished.
About the broken hearted,
And who tossed them aside,
To disregard and dismiss.
There is a commonness linked,
Between all of them like this.
They seem willing to be victimized...
For a prize that does not exist!
A foolishness depicted...
Is what these creatures share.
Every few weeks,
Their weeping is heard.
And thoughts of others...
Aren't concerns they share.
They want to make clear,
Their feelings are felt like none other.
And after their points of views are relayed...
A sympathy is extended,
To their fathers and mothers.
Without a doubt as to 'why'...
Some have decided to leave these nuts,
Alone and crushed with a quick goodbye!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Patient's Prayer
L-rd, ‘please listen to my plea now,
Make the pain in me subside,
As YOU do heal my wounds, L-rd,
From the pain ~ where can I hide? ’
My Faith in You’s enduring,
I need not the pain, ~ YOU know,
Why can I not be pain free?
This healing’s awful slow.
The leg is getting better,
YOU are seeing to that,
I’m aware of YOUR daily presence,
As each day ~ to YOU ~ I chat.
I know I must have Nerve Pain,
Each Minute, Hour and Day,
Please L-rd, ‘Listen to my Prayer’
‘Make the Pain go away today’.
‘Can I not be pain free?
Must YOU remind me that YOU’RE near?
As slowly the tablets work,
And the pain does disappear? ’
Copyright © Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet} - 15 June 2008
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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Choose to Bask In Sun
Got up this morning!
Feeling blessed,
And deciding what mood to address...
I would choose,
To be in!
After thanking God,
For opening up my eyes...
I went through an array of choices.
Hoping I would find no opportunities,
To raise my voice.
Let's see?
I did the cussing thing,
This past Tuesday.
Practicing choice cuss words...
Purely for experimentation reasons.
And keeping my lips in shape.
No respect is given,
Unless it is made clear...
Some professionalism is involved.
Folks love to test,
Those appearing calm and rested.
Then came Wednesday.
I guess I was still under Tuesday's aura!
Someone got me so pissed...
I took advantage of it.
And decided to chit and chat,
Until that heated into a nasty spat.
Yes,
I did dump some crap.
It was dumped and I was done with that.
That same evening...
I felt remorseful for the choice I chose to have done.
And that night,
I could not sleep.
Even the sheets on my bed annoyed me.
Instead of chilling out and drinking tea.
But even then,
In the wee hours rushing to get to dawn,
A cup of tea makes me pee.
Thursday, Friday and Saturday...
I'm determined to barracade myself
Surrounded by nothing but joy!
I choose this choice I inflict with bliss.
That left Sunday to explore and reflect.
And reject any negativity.
That kind of stress prolongs,
And drains.
How can a sanity be maintained with that?
And every Monday...
I choose to bask in Sun.
I choose to forgive and forget,
Those things done.
By me or anyone else.
Realizing there is nothing else I can do.
Not to lift anyone out of a boo hoo...
Someone else did,
To open another's eyelids to have the tears gush.
Those memorial weeps,
I am learning to sweep away.
Got up this morning!
Feeling blessed,
And deciding what mood to address...
I would choose,
To be in!
After thanking God,
For opening up my eyes...
I went through an array of choices,
This morning.
Hoping I would find no opportunities,
To raise my voice.
And I strengthen each day to make that choice.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In my thoguhts i am alone
In my thoughts i am alone
where i fear no one understands
the pain the illness the sadness
the nightly terrors i handle alone
this experience i cant handle of this illness
they call bipolar the way im defined or labled that
one can not see past to see who i am beyond the illness
who is scared of herself who is caring for others more than herself
who will do anything to make another happy
but for one to meet someone who is 'bipolar' thats what they see
unstable depressed manic angry mood swing mess
but what they dont understand is how stable is not in our world
and it doesnt define us it makes us who we are
this illness we battle alone cause unless you have it
you can never fully understand and even if you do i dont think
we can fully understand it...
alone in this illness
alone in these thoughts
alone is how i feel
i cry alone when i feel alone
i sleep to be alone to feel nothing
to feel nothing or empty is what i need
it would be better than the saddness and hurt and
the feeling of alone
my tears fall alone
i enjoy being alone but the feeling of alone is
something i can not handle
to feel like there is no one
to feel like no one can truely understand or care
i only ache with this fear
i try to cry and scream for help but no one seems to hear
so lost in this illness and how to not feel alone
poem by Juliana Willsey
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Delivered By Letter
Would you understand this any better,
If you saw it poured from a labelled can.
To open slowly to reveal,
A preparation made easier...
That to you would appeal,
On demand as you command.
Would you understand this any better,
If work involved did not exist.
With no effort at all or commitment permitted.
And very little time put into it.
Allowing you to sit...
As your imagination drifted.
Would you understand this any better,
If blood, sweat and tears...
Were not heard from a voice admitted.
To then immediately decrease your interest.
Would you understand this any better,
If all explanations to you were delivered by letter.
And all you had to do was to connect large dots.
Would you then understand this any better...
To attempt to do or choose not.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Elephant Talk
Talk, its only talk
Arguments, agreements, advice, answers,
Articulate announcements
Its only talk
Talk, its only talk
Babble, burble, banter, bicker bicker bicker
Brouhaha, boulderdash, ballyhoo
Its only talk
Back talk
Talk talk talk, its only talk
Comments, cliches, commentary, controversy
Chatter, chit-chat, chit-chat, chit-chat,
Conversation, contradiction, criticism
Its only talk
Cheap talk
Talk, talk, its only talk
Debates, discussions
These are words with a d this time
Dialogue, dualogue, diatribe,
Dissention, declamation
Double talk, double talk
Talk, talk, its all talk
Too much talk
Small talk
Talk that trash
Expressions, editorials, expugnations, exclamations, enfadulations
Its all talk
Elephant talk, elephant talk, elephant talk
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chit Chat That You Patter
Don't be too late.
Or make me wait my patience's gone.
Don't be too late.
So much at stake I've bet on.
Don't be too late.
Or make me wait my patience's gone.
Don't be too late.
So much at stake I've bet on.
It's not about my cool,
You depend and count on.
Or a chit chat that you patter fast.
You depend and count on.
And it's not about 'rules'...
To change as if,
I'm a game that you play.
It's not about the rules.
Or that chit chat that you patter.
It's not about my cool.
Since to you that doesn't matter.
As long as I stay...
A game that you play.
Don't be too late.
It's not about my cool.
Or make me wait.
This is not about who rules.
So much at stake,
You will never realize because you've never sacrificed.
It's not about my cool.
Or a chit chat that you patter fast.
Or none you will identify...
As if to you it matters.
It's not about the rules.
Or deciding you will change your mind,
Whenever I give you my time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Strike Up The Band
Strike up the band.
Do not permit us for another moment to sit.
You have already persisted...
You are the maestro of your gifts!
So strike up that band.
Come forward and produce your talents.
We insist.
At least reveal the evidence,
You have 'it' and they exist.
Too many have serviced us with lip.
And you have staged an entrance,
With...
Wishes from us to see you exit through it.
Take the baton in your hand.
And lead us through...
How your hard work and sacrifice,
With a mix of sweat and paid dues...
Has developed with an appetite,
That will inspire and delight too!
And prove you are worthy,
To command with deed.
Or leave the spotlight...
That feeds more of your ego,
Than any initiative given.
And this is not perceived.
It is a vivid observation.
You appear the only one here,
Who can not 'see'!
So strike up that band.
Too many are serious.
And prepared they are...
To take a stand!
Command what you have.
Or leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Wounds Of...
The wounds of...
Those in secret and themselves bleed.
The wounds of,
People who in silence believe...
They must not,
Share their own griefs.
And choose to weep,
On their own.
All alone.
And...
There when others are in need.
To heal from...
Their own pains,
Inside and kept unseen.
To never...
Have them revealed.
Because they feel,
This is wrong!
And not strong,
To...
Share miseries to leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Get Gone
hey, come in here for a minute
sit down
come here, cuz we gotta talk, ok
well, u just stay here for a little bit tonight
man, i need to go to sleep
yo, i want you try to understand somethin, ok?
now, just listen
And then again
You know I try to make it work,
but you and I
seems like I was always by myself
Like you didn't ever, ever wanna help
the strain you put on me, you let me down
can you tell me why, after all I've done for you and us
You know, I hate to say it, but I gotta tell you som'
I think I better leave you alone
So get your bags and get the hell on
see, because I don't want you no more
I don't want you no more
I think you better leave me alone
So get your bags, get the hell on, get gone
because love ain't here no more
I don't know if it hurts to hear me say all of these words,
but then again, I guess by now, I really don't care
Always thought that it could work
thought it could be, baby you and me
tell me, what happened to us?
Wait a minute, don't speak
Right now all I wanna see is you leavin
Leave me alone
Get your bags, get the hell on
Cuz I don't want you no more
Said I think you better leave me alone
Get your bags, get the hell on
Cuz love ain't here no more
See, I tried to do it right
Tried to make you see the light
All that I wanted, All that I needed, was you in my life
Havin broke down and for what?
Changed so many times, forgot who the real me was
But it's alright, I said it's cool
(wind down
song performed by by Ideal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Your Eyes
I want to see through your eyes
To see why you hurt and rain
Only then I will understand
What gives you so much pain
I want to beat through your heart
To know what makes it bleed so much
A heart so divine and pure
Why it cries out for a simple touch
I want to lie in your thoughts
To know what are your dreams
I want to breathe in your agony
And hear your silent screams
I want to hear your unspoken words
To know what you feel each moment
I want to heal all your wounds
And set you free from the torments
So let me in and see your darkness
Show me why your world is cold
Give me your hands
I will walk you through sunshine
And give my all to make you whole
poem by Tiana Webb
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Sense And Sensitivity
I try to keep an open mind
for things that cannot be defined.
Foreknowledge and telepathy,
anything extra sensory.
Clairvoyance and clairaudience,
which seem to use a different sense
from the five which we all use
It seems we aren’t allowed to choose
Levels of sensitivity.
are distributed randomly.
Although we try we can’t deny
that some unwritten rules apply
That these wild talents do exist
That’s why belief will long exist.
We can’t present proof positive.
All the evidence we can give
is anecdotal at the best
and fails all scientific test
Administered by tight closed minds
absorbed in prejudice which blinds
to any possibility.
Which they can’t touch or taste or see.
Although I do not understand
I cannot dismiss out of hand
Abilities which some possess.
but are reluctant to express.
Because they do not want to be
Subject to foolish mockery
You are convinced it can’t be true
and you refuse to listen to
any opposing argument
Your mind tight closed you are content
to live your life in ignorance
. Ascribing everything to chance
A choice you are entitled to
if you prefer a blinkered view.
Because some things can’t be defined
I much prefer an open mind.
I can accept quite easily
not every body will agree.
There’s so much that we do not know
about the human mind.Although
it seems to be illogical
I think nothing’s impossible.
08/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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One's Success Felt
A feeling from one expressed,
And shown to another...
There is a caring that is addressed,
Is enough to leave one inspired...
With motivation.
Since one's success felt,
Usually ignites when others are pleased.
No matter how minimal or great the deed.
If 'someone' is there caring heights can be achieved.
And with a doing done not to impress...
But just to do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Earning A Peace Of Mind Has Its Benefits
What makes people believe,
Those they had ignored in the past...
Have awakened with a wishful desire,
To be around those that had opposed them?
Or socialize with them,
To mingle and chit chat while smiling falsely.
I have never understood this!
Not with a longing to understand.
If someone ignores me,
That's one less face I have to look at.
And I immediately feel blessed for that.
Earning a peace of mind has its benefits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Heal From A Slow Mending To Grow
If something once strongly felt,
Is no longer there...
Existing to feel naturally,
Even the presence of a hypnotist...
Masquerading as a magician,
Will not be able to restore those natural feelings.
Not to be felt when back at a time remembered,
Those feelings from one's heart were freely given.
When those feelings felt begin to leave,
They do not return to make a reappearance.
Anyone who has experienced this emotionally...
To heal from a slow mending to grow,
Up...
To forgive and forget,
Knows....
Once something is felt to leave, it goes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Intentions Meant Are Not Mentioned
Can we share thoughts without speaking?
And how can that be validated?
If neither of us are near,
To appreciate what we hear?
No emotion I've known to feel,
Has ever been exchanged.
To have someone understand,
And comprehend...
From the outside to the inside.
Knowing what is felt,
Deep within.
Can love be shared and said is there,
But not expressed at all?
Can a broken heart be spared despair?
To not process pain,
Before any tears begin to fall?
And if those tears should fall from eyes,
Could alibis stop what is shown?
Empathy sent from distances given,
Isn't empathy whispered or a hug to convince.
Can we share thoughts without speaking?
And how can that be validated?
If neither of us are near to appreciate this...
Or witness a difference made.
When intentions meant are not mentioned...
Can relationships mend to save?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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