You Feel Me?
Everything and everyone under the Sun,
Seeks to be closer to something...
Or someone.
Rarely are there exceptions to this.
Unless someone has been taught,
To forget this closeness nonsense...
And wont have none of it.
Still there can be seen trees growing majestically.
Even someone or some 'thing',
That stands out to get attention it brings.
But when it comes to hearts, eyes and ears...
It becomes difficult to separate them,
From the touch of emotions.
I'm not going to admit I know a thing about this,
Since I am suppose to be aloof, cold and indifferent.
To those I choose to be aloof, cold and indifferent to!
I am not experiencing my life,
Just to be used to benefit someone else's pleasures.
I have my own I'd like to 'share' to get 'there'.
You feel me?
I wish you could!
Everything and everyone under the Sun,
Seeks to be closer to something...
Or someone.
And when it comes to hearts, eyes and ears...
It becomes difficult to separate them,
From the touch of emotions.
I'm not going to admit I know a thing about this,
Since I am suppose to be aloof, cold and indifferent.
To those I choose to be aloof, cold and indifferent to!
You feel me?
No not you.
The other one to the left of you and looking away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
In order to understand life it is not only necessary not to be indifferent to men, but not to be indifferent to flocks, to trees. One should be indifferent to nothing.
quote by Remy de Gourmont
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aloof
THE irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof, bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seem'd not so far to seek,
And all the world and I seem'd much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong, and life itself not weak.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Aloof
ALOOF
Aloof none should remain where two may share.
Why st[r]ay away from strife of feelings which
when spent sans counting only make more rich -
are deep summations difficult to bear?
Let go! glow! flow! emotions everywhere
replace past distance with a future close
where depth, unspoken, may rephrase verbose
superficiality too bare.
Open wide, within spin out aware
not as a line to hook a fish or two,
shrug off old shackles, tackle something new -
that tenderness two miss when one's not there.
Offer yourself the luxury of care,
not as a duty, but beyond that swim
through seas of sentiments you used to skim
in search of self who self denied... prepare
Fulfilment signing tenderness so rare,
that few accept it, fewer recognize
empathy which never needs disguise. -
Are these emotions difficult to bear?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Aloof I AM – I Met A LONELY GOOF on my Only Roof! Woof! Woof!
Among the pride of lions – shudders a lonely deer, a cute one;
Along bowfins and dolphins fumbles a fingerling – a little one,
I'm a waxing gibbous moon riding in the lonely sky.....
I'm a crackpot – always under the lonely cloud, I don’t why!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
Aloof I am, a lone blue bird hopped up– my blood red ran cold!
Aloof I am, a lone red bird popped up – fear returned me in letters bold!
Aloof I am – hugged aloneness; aloof I am – aloneness bugged me;
Aloof I am – invited aloneness; aloof I am – lonely bug has bitten me.
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
Aloof I am, sitting in my corridor, I invited aloneness for a treat;
Aloof I am, walking on the barren moor, loneliness lurked to beat;
Aloof I am, I felt a stab in my heart, my skin turned blue by lonely heat;
Aloof I am, oh my god! Aloneness is butchering me for my meat!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
Where do you come from? Did I mail thee? Oh! Lonely emperor;
What is your name? Why do you tame me? I fear your lonely roar;
I hail thee; I surrender thee; I pray thee; oh lonely prince of honor;
Don’t nail me for I know you before, I can’t bear thee – oh no more!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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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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Not a Bourgy Doer
I use to have issues with being emotionally needy.
Feeling I had to achieve to appease and please.
While experiencing a sense of abandonment...
And no one cared what was happening inside of me.
I use to be moody with a quick lip and attitude.
I knew as a child I had responsibilities.
And those children I knew had none or few.
As I grew older and more rebellious in mind,
I became more independent and less forgiving...
Of those who had direction in their lives of some kind.
Although I am no longer there where I had been...
Emotionally I remain protective,
And free to speak without a need to be touched.
'Too bourgy and aloof,
Using that as an excuse to feed.'
Who me?
'Yes you!
Just too bourgy and aloof,
Out to prove that you can do and succeed.'
Not me...
I'm not a bourgy doer.
'But you're bourgy and aloof,
Using that as an excuse to feed.'
Who me?
'Yes you!
You're out to prove.
You're bourgy and aloof.
Out to prove that you can do and succeed.'
Not me...
I'm not a bourgy doer.
Or out to prove a thing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Men's hearts are cold. They are indifferent.
quote by Mary Harris Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aloof
i am
Aloof
because you are
Aloof
and Aloof are we
in this
World that is Aloof too
because we are Aloof
because we think that this world is Aloof
and the World thinks too that it is Aloof because we are Aloof.
and so on
and so
Forth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In my relations with my father, which are difficult and where I'm often met by coolness and indifference, I am constantly tempted to be cold and indifferent. Yet I know that this is a test if I could take it rightly.
quote by Evelyn Underhill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Possible Pasts
they flutter behind you your possible pasts
some brighteyed and crazy some frightened and lost
a warning to anyone still in command
of their possible future to take care
in derilict sidings the poppies entwine
with cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time
do you remember me? how we used to be?
do you thing we should be closer?
she stood in the doorway the ghost of a smile
haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign
her cold eyes imploring the men in their macs
for the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs
stepping up boldly one put out his hand
he said, 'i was just a child then now i'm only a man'
do you remember me? how we used to be?
do you thing we should be closer?
by the cold and religious we were taken in hand
shown how to feel good and told to feel bad
tongue tied and terrified we learned how to pray
now our feelings run deep and cold as the clay
and strung out behind us the banners and flags
of our possible pasts lie in tatters and rags
do you remember me? how we used to be?
do you thing we should be closer?
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature is not cruel, pitilessly, indifferent. This is one of the hardest lessons for humans to learn. We cannot admit that things might be neither good nor evil, neither cruel nor kind, but simply callous -- indifferent to all suffering, lacking all purpose.
quote by Richard Dawkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting. As if In the Cold...Outside!
Waiting.
As if in the cold...outside!
Feeling a joke had been told.
And I knew it.
But was not suppose to admit this.
Yet feeling inside a warmth that satisfied.
I saw the picture,
Before the pieces of the puzzle...
Had to others been known.
'Something' had shown me a preview.
And I could not tell who...
Or what it was that came to chill me to the bone.
An aloneness I knew and tolerated it.
My experiences existed,
In a time I envisioned before they came to visit.
And I would wonder 'why' I was permitted,
To see, feel and touch what had yet to arrive.
Waiting.
As if in the cold...outside!
Feeling a joke had been told.
And I knew it.
But was not suppose to admit this.
Yet the older I get,
More secluded becomes my 'unique and differentness'!
I saw and knew.
But couldn't tell how.
So there I stood...
Waiting.
In the cold...outside!
Feeling a joke had been told.
But did not know 'why'...
'Something' had shown me a preview.
And I could not tell who...
Or what it was that came to chill me to the bone.
I was not alone.
Nor was I existing to live on my own.
And I knew this but did not know why,
Me?
Nothing did I do,
To welcome delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stardom or Boredom! A LONELY RED BIRD Flies in My Natural Kingdom!
I am eight and twenty, a lonely rose – no one close to sit with;
Here are no companions nor kin and kith, I live in lonely myth!
Sitting in the empty hall by myself at the day dawn in the white;
I feel awful – awful beyond all – crying gently dusk in the night.
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am, sitting in the dark; aloof I am, with my lonely bark;
Aloof I am, butterflies helter-skelter in me at lonely gaze!
Aloof I am, there is a void; there is a vacuum in my lonely daze;
Aloof I am sitting with empty ache; aloof I am – a lonely lark.
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am, these many shocks, lonely talks only for me, tell me why?
Aloof I am, I beg thee – don’t enter my only soul everyday, I say....
Aloof I am, I don’t want to be aloof in anyway – even on holiday;
Aloof I am, I say thee – I don't want to live, I want to die for lonely sigh!
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am – a sole flower in a field; a sole child does not shield;
Aloof I am – a moonless night, stormy weather sets the tone…….
Aloof I am in turbulent weather, me a solo feather in deserted scene;
Aloof I am, in lonely battle, with a fresh cut I gave up! I yield!
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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The Thread of Life
I
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?--
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seemed not so far to seek
And all the world and I seemed much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.
II
Thus am I mine own prison. Everything
Around me free and sunny and at ease:
Or if in shadow, in a shade of trees
Which the sun kisses, where the gay birds sing
And where all winds make various murmuring;
Where bees are found, with honey for the bees;
Where sounds are music, and where silences
Are music of an unlike fashioning.
Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew,
And smile a moment and a moment sigh
Thinking: Why can I not rejoice with you?
But soon I put the foolish fancy by:
I am not what I have nor what I do;
But what I was I am, I am even I.
III
Therefore myself is that one only thing
I hold to use or waste, to keep or give;
My sole possession every day I live,
And still mine own despite Time's winnowing.
Ever mine own, while moons and seasons bring
From crudeness ripeness mellow and sanitive;
Ever mine own, till Death shall ply his sieve;
And still mine own, when saints break grave and sing.
And this myself as king unto my King
I give, to Him Who gave Himself for me;
Who gives Himself to me, and bids me sing
A sweet new song of His redeemed set free;
he bids me sing: O death, where is thy sting?
And sing: O grave, where is thy victory?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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What I Miss About Heaven
Mama always said love is like heaven
Holdin' hands in church and prayin' together
Late night talks and morning walks
But I don't remember all that innocent stuff
What I can't forget is the feel of your touch
I guess I ain't no angel, but you gave me a reason to sing
To have you back in my life again, I would trade all silver rings
So forgive me for the cold hard truth
The only thing about heaven I miss is you
We run out of time and things to say
But I find any old excuse to make you stay
One little thing we did just right
Now it takes all night, to shake you from my memory,
I toss and turn in my empty bed, trying to break free
I guess I ain't no angel, but you gave me a reason to sing
To have you back in my life again, I would trade all silver rings
So forgive me for the cold hard truth
The only thing about heaven I miss is you
The only thing about heaven I miss is the backseat, summer night, hilltop kiss
I ain't ashamed to admit that this is the only thing I miss
The only thing about heaven I miss is the backseat, summer night, hilltop kiss
I ain't ashamed to admit that this is the only thing I miss
I guess I ain't no angel, but you gave me a reason to sing
To have you back in my life again, I would trade all silver rings
So forgive me for the cold hard truth
The only thing about heaven I miss
The only thing about heaven I miss is you
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In This Romance
I can not do that anymore...
Keeping what I feel inside,
As if stored by a pride
Misinterpreted as being aloof and snide.
I can 'bite' back with the best.
If I chose to when I'm tested!
I can argue in debate...
To defend an ego that's unshakened.
If I did not choose to be awakened.
But I can't do that anymore!
It leaves no taste of satisfaction.
I am seeking someone I can adore.
Not someone who speaks...
And sometimes selects me to ignore!
I can not do that anymore...
Keeping what I feel inside,
As if stored by a pride
Misinterpreted as being aloof and snide.
I want to come out of that place,
And replace it with erased mistakes!
To allow my happiness to flourish!
I want to be encouraged...
And care enough to share,
With one who also wants to see...
The both of us there,
In this 'romance' that is endlessly shared!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The coldest of the cold?
A greedy person’s Cold ambition
Or could it be Cold windy nights
The pureness of Cold clear water
Or the alien aspect of Cold neon lights
The careless Cold shoulder
The unfeeling Cold heart
The curse of Cold nature
Cold hands held apart
Could it be Cold feet
Could it be cold fears
Could it be cold weather
Or icy cold ears
Even above cold blood…
Even above… being apart
My choice of all, above, Would be
the unfeeling…of a cold, cold heart
poem by David Whalen
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As Cold As The Skin Of The Snake...
fear makes us
feel the coldness of the skin
of the snake
but our own warmth
must make us
live life
to the full
despite the cold morning
despite
the indifferent nights
despite
the earth's
nauseous spins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mutuality
i like your ears
you think
i am just flattering you
i suggest
you see your ears
using my eyes
as your mirror
still you do not
trust me
how can you be so indifferent?
i will buy you a mirror,
and now
use it, see?
your ears are
so beautiful
because
they are deaf
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cold water
Water is cold water is wet,
Water is cold and can be a big mess...
Water is a teer dropp running down your cheek,
Water is the stuff that makes you feel weak...
Water can be good if you feel down,
Water can be bad if you don't come back around...
Water is a thing that can make you feel cold,
Water is a thing that can make you be bold...
Water is a cold, cold thing,
Everyone has water running through them...
poem by Alexandra Greif
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