All These Complaints And Sadnesses
ALL THESE COMPLAINTS AND SADNESSES
All these complaints and sadnesses
All these ironies and doubts
All these self- mockings and inner musings
What do they give to those
Who long for Love
And Inspiration
Who need to perceive Life in more joyful ways?
All these kvetchings
What do they give?
Beauty Love Light Happiness -
Give them
You fool
Or shut up.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We Do Not Outgrow Our Own Sadnesses
WE DO NOT OUTGROW OUR OWN SADNESSES
We do not outgrow our own Sadnesses
We remain lost in them.
No matter how far
We wander from home-
Life is not easy
And we wherever we are
Suffer the sadnesses
We have borne as ourselves
From the beginning.
How we get by
How we manage to get through the world
A mystery each answers in his own way-
Blessedness- or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Life and Its Sadnesses Does Not Leave Me
LIFE AND ITS SADNESSES DOES NOT LEAVE ME
Life and its sadnesses does not leave me-
Quiet I hear and know
Pains of others pains of friends
Time’s wounds
I cannot heal-
Blessed now I painless walk through the world
Sadness is something else -
Pains of others are their pains not mine
Why should I be blessed
When others my age suffer so now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Who Knows All The Sadnesses That Death Brings
Who knows all the sadnesses that death brings
The hidden wounds that never heal?
The darknesses that remain black forever?
Who knows the hidden pains that death brings
And the darknesses and the sadnesses
And the cryings forever
Of what is lost and will always be lost in all of us?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Light
Red corals and blue algae,
Wet sadnesses and swimming love
Need their own light.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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To hear complaints with patience, even when complaints are vain, is one of the duties of friendship.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I mean, the people who run Guantanamo, the military, pretty much dismiss complaints by the detainees because they say that they're all created as part of a political process to sort of fake complaints and get public support.
quote by Jane Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Do Not Know I Wake Where I Do
I DO NOT KNOW WHY I WAKE WHERE I DO
I do not know why I wake where I do -
But first light makes me hope again-
The sadnesses in my mind are many
But the love of life also great -
True we are all contradictions
But I seem more so
Even in my old age-
Yet happier now
Quieter inside now
I go on -
It has been a long road-
I do not know how much longer the road will be-
I feel blessed now thank G-d
Because of the children and grandchildren-
Oh in old age how one needs the young to love life still and stronger.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Complaints Return Upon Themselves
THE COMPLAINTS RETURN UPON THEMSELVES
The complaints return upon themselves
There is only old age under the sun.
Vanity of vanity of vanities
I am the greatest vanity of all.
Even the morning light
That usually wakes my soul
Cannot break the dim foreboding
Of Hell on the horizon.
I will die
I will go down
I know.
But my People
This Land
Will You Save us?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sucking Tongues And Pouting Lips
All day long,
There is a playing of catch up.
And follow the leader.
And all day long all their lives,
This is done!
The following behind someone.
Sucking tongues and pouting lips,
They do as if
They were born to do this.
Sharing complaints and voicing opinions,
They do as if this is routine.
Everyday, everynight.
From Sunrise 'til noon!
And under moonlight.
All day long,
There is a playing of catch up.
And follow the leader.
And all day long all their lives,
This is done!
The following behind someone.
Sucking tongues and pouting lips,
They do as if
They were born to do this.
Sharing complaints and voicing opinions,
They do as if this is routine.
And for them,
It is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Find The Humor in It
There are those who profess,
The same aging miseries.
As if to keep them possessed,
Makes their complaints more acceptable.
If I was to say,
I have heard people comment...
About the same agonies today,
They had 'decades' ago...
There would be those believing,
I am finding fresh ways to exaggerate.
There are those who profess,
The same aging miseries.
As if to keep them possessed,
Makes their complaints more acceptable.
I couldn't even embellish this stuff,
To find the humor in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Escape Forever
Id love to run away with you
Just pack are bags and escape
Hide out somewhere far away
Where the oceans meet white sand
With waters so clear you can watch the fish swim
We can drink margaritas on the beach
And laugh about funny things
Smile in the sun
And dance in the rain
No cares, no complaints
Words are useless
For your eyes say it all
Id love to run away with you
Too that beautiful place
And laugh about funny things
Smile in the sun
And dance in the rain
No cares, no complaints
We can escape forever in that beautiful place
poem by Randy Demand
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Remember The Revelation!
There are times when my soul feels weak
As if a heartache permeates it,
Engulfs it and takes it over
And darkness that was not there,
Comes to visit me as if I were its new home...
The sadness that accompanies it feels heavy,
Wearisome and tedious, for that is its nature,
But I do not welcome such darknesses or sadnesses,
I am like Saint Paul, shaking off their effects,
Cutting them down to size with the sword of the Spirit.
I was not born to be consumed by the negatives of this world,
To have them fastened to my flesh like leeches,
I was not meant to sail this world with barnacles,
I make the sailing boat clean so it glides through the seas.
And when the darknesses and the sadnesses visit me,
I test them to see if they speak truths or lies,
What mixture of each applies, for such deceptions are shared,
And is not the past forgiven me, and is not hope within me,
And is not light stronger than darkness?
I reflect upon my visitation, the time of revelation,
When sleeping one night, the dream began for me,
For there I was and made aware physically of my dream,
Standing, upon the slope of a hill, one leg higher than the other,
Balanced there, by my own decision, becoming more aware...
Beyond my hill was another hill, yet upon it a silhouette,
That of a man hoisted high upon a cross, crucified,
And I will not deny what I saw before any man,
For it was Christ crucified, revealed to me at that time,
For there He was, squirming in agony upon that cross...
At first, I made out His form and the cross clearly seen,
Then I saw Him in agony, though distanced from me,
With no sounds of His screams made for my ears to hear,
But then something else happened that was unexpected,
Something I have never experienced happening before...
Above the cross was a focus beam of light from Heaven,
Straight down upon that cross it fell, quite suddenly,
No prior warning given, but that this light was like flames,
I stood still, quite baffled and amazed, yet not scared at first,
Thinking this was merely a beam of light and nothing more...
But then the light hit the cross and was redirected at me,
I saw it cross the hill and the space between Him and me,
Then I was engulfed in the blood red fire light in seconds,
I felt a fire flood within me, warming me, quickening my soul,
But instead of judgment and death as I first expected,
All I felt was love...
A sudden realisation that it was because of Jesus I was spared,
Yet not just spared and left to fend for myself as if unloved,
No, everything had changed because of what Jesus did for me,
So I stood there, still balanced, one leg raised higher,
Yet now completely bathed in fire, light and love...
And while the dream stopped there, as if all was said and done,
Every now and then, God reminds me of the revelation,
That I am not alone, that I am fully known, fully loved,
That I am not a child of darkness but a child of light,
My life no longer devoid of hope as for those who are lost...
This memory is my shield of faith against the darknesses,
This memory is my helmet of salvation against the sadnesses,
This memory is my armour against all the fears and the doubts,
For my soul is eternal and preserved beyond both time and space,
No longer can I say I am not loved or that I stand alone...
Though I stood alone upon my hill, yet the Lord was with me...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
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When The Day Of Darkness Comes
WHEN THE DAY OF DARKNESS COMES
When the day of darkness comes
And it will come-
And when I can no longer see or feel the world-
When I am gone
Forever gone-
The same flowers and trees
The same sky
The same morning light
The same human dreams
The same loves and hates and sadnesses and joys
The same human condition
Will still be-
When I am no longer here
You will go on as you always have-
O world,
What will I do without you?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Music Evokes Feelings In Me
MUSIC EVOKES FEELINGS IN ME
Music evokes feelings in me
I did not know I could have-
Longings and sadnesses
Hints of memory
Quiet joys
Beauty that brings tears
Deep deep love of life.
As if there were far far more in me
And in the world
Than I had ever known.
Music reveals me to myself
As nothing else does.
Wordless or not-
It teaches me a world within myself
How I love to feel and be in listening
Deep deep soul in me and of God's world.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Nowadays I get complaints about long drum solos, but in those days they wanted me to keep on going so they could go over to the bar and have a drink.
quote by Aynsley Dunbar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Topped With a Frosting
We do things that are loved.
People and others like myself,
Who have within them...
Something loved they do.
It is a passion not a passing fad,
That attaches to one's life...
As normal as the thoughts one has!
To wake up feeling blessed,
To have something else besides complaints
On one's mind...
Is something I treasure.
I thank God it wasn't mine to find.
It was there since birth to be expressed.
To not have something possessed I love...
I confess,
Would distress and depress me.
I can not imagine feeling that empty.
And yet...
There are those who do!
I guess they are the ones who awaken to brood!
We do things that are loved.
People and others like myself,
Who have within them...
Something loved they do.
Something to share with others.
Something done without seeking notoriety.
And 'if' that should come...
I can say God has given me my cake.
Topped with a frosting I love too!
'Of course,
You can have a piece of what I offer and give.
As long as you leave me a slice of what you brought.
I'm sure you have 'something' there,
You can say you love to offer and give...
Living a life loved as long as you live.
You must have something you'd like to share that's enjoyed? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When We Were Young
WHEN WE WERE YOUNG
1)
When we were young
The world was young
Now we are old
And the world is old too.
2)
When we were young
The world was young
Now we are old
And the world is younger
than we are.
3)
When the world was young
I was not young
Now I am old
And the world is older- also.
4)
To be old is to be sadder
So much is not here any more
One will never be
What one was-
One can still hope faintly to be
One what longed to be-
But one knows
This too probably
Will not be given.
5)
Oh how Youth flies by in it all its glory
Oh how Time leaves us alone
With our memories and sadnesses
Our fears
For what is yet to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Love's Message
"I LOVE YOU" HAS THREE SEPARATE PARTS
THAT TAKEN TOGETHER WILL BIND LOVING HEARTS.
IF ONE PART IS MISSING, THERE'S NO LOVE AT ALL.
SO OUT-OF-LOVE IS THE SAD AND EVENTUAL FALL.
THE "I" FIRST MUST KNOW AND LOVE ITSELF FOR SURE.
ONLY THEN CAN IT GIVE SELFLESS "LOVE" THAT IS PURE.
THE "YOU" CHOSEN WITH NO RESTRAINT OR COMPLAINTS
IS "I LOVE YOU, " A MESSAGE FROM GOD AND THE SAINTS.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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We Both Are Pleasured
You need to read.
I need to write.
You have to absorb.
I have to purge.
To what degree?
Until satisfaction.
I'm not here to question,
Either activity done.
Or which one of us benefits.
I give and you receive.
And we both are pleasured.
Why seek complaints?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Updated and Refreshened Eulogies
What are they there,
Waiting for?
Updated and refreshened eulogies?
Those dead horses beatened,
Have turned into dust!
Although times have changed...
Their complaints have dusted.
And the staleness of trust...
Has long ago rusted!
What had been admired,
Has expired into visible jealousies.
They can not honestly believe,
What has been done religiously...
Can be revived and retrieved.
They can not believe that?
They can't!
Do they?
What are they there,
Waiting for?
Updated and refreshened eulogies?
When those made initially,
Had been carved into valued stone.
Supporting the approval,
Of those with cold shoulders.
Convinced they can survive on their own.
Why can't they move on?
And leave well enough alone!
Knowing those bonds,
That could have been mended...
Are absent of emotion.
Or anything that identifies,
A relationship to devotion.
Or even souls connected...
To mummified bones!
But the groaning of complaints,
Continue to droan with their moans.
What are they there,
Waiting for?
Updated and refreshened eulogies?
For opportunities to vent,
Why their time has been spent...
Arguing with one another,
Over what for them makes sense?
And who among them qualifies,
To adjust to new movements!
Done before no one is left,
And, hopefully, before...
All have died!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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