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Experience Reality Disaster Horrific

experience is lived life real raw felt first hand
community family individually shared endured
wounds physical emotional trauma mourned
disaster horrific impact wounds life seasoned
salt tears shed bitter loss stuns season afflicted

experience witnessed is etched into landscapes
experience witnessed stretches to far horizons
disasters holocaust plague beyond comprehensions
acceptances tolerances tested beyond pain thresholds
normality security shelter food resources possessions

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Experience Reality Legend Fable

experience is life real raw felt first hand
individually family community endured
wounds physical emotional are mourned
disaster horrific impact wounds seasoned
salt tears shed bitter loss stuns afflicted

experience witnessed is etched into landscapes
experience witnessed stretches to far horizons
disasters holocaust plague beyond comprehensions
acceptances tolerances tested beyond pain thresholds
normality security shelter food resources possessions

centuries-old stand carved stone tablets
hundreds of tsunami warning stone markers
fabled tsunami waves devouring land lives
devastation legendary loss dwarfs memories
scale wave force shadow outruns warnings

witness awareness realities lost in three generations
generation enduring disaster becomes aged survivors
experience memory disaster to their children passes
experience more distant to their grandchildren passes
three generations fades forgotten from living memories

experience reality legend myth fable forget
three generations till people warnings forget
community crucial knowledge people forget
busy with lives love jobs experiences people forget
all except wise souls tsunami warnings heeding forget

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Experience Reality Living Memories Erased

experience is life real raw felt first hand ingrains
experience witnessed is etched into landscapes
experience witnessed stretches into far horizons

disasters holocaust plagues beyond comprehensions
acceptances tolerances tested beyond pain thresholds
normality security shelter food resources possessions

experience memory disaster to told children passes
experience more distant to told grandchildren passes
experience reality legend myth fable forgotten fades
three generations fades forgotten from living memories

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coming To Thirst First Upon This Earth

The Cherry Blossoms bloom from buds.
To signal the beginning of a new Spring season.
Pre-ordained to sustain a cycle that remains.
And contains within such a mysterious wonder.
That captivates a captured awe.
With a flawlessness that seems to inspire.

The shortness of lived beauty introduced,
Infuses to linger longer in one's memory...
To keep it there seduced.
With a freshness of its birth patiently anticipated.
And hesitant we are to approach its delicate appearance.
As a perfectness of this is witnessed!
Coming to thirst first upon this Earth.

The Cherry Blossoms bloom from buds.
With an animated life that lives,
To experience then to quickly be gone.
As a perfectness of this is witnessed.
Reminding those aware of what is shared,
That nothing within nature's existence is dismissed...
Coming to thirst first upon this Earth.

Although...
A growth then from a youthfulness quickened by age,
Through a process that saves not...
A glow diminished of blemishes.
With a withering done in stages...
All of us under the Sun soon forget.
As a decaying replaces the experience.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We All Come To Experience 'Our' Truths

We all come to experience 'our' truths.
We all come to experience,
Realities lived others may not accept.
Or come to believe,
If they are not there to witness.
Or see as they sit to observe life pass by,
From a closed window and behind locked doors.

We all experience our own sorrows...
With burdens to bear and struggles to conquer.
And yet there will be some among the 'doubters'...
Who believe nothing happens to anyone but themselves.
And when they experience a pinch of pain to feel,
It becomes worthy of a news broadcast...
To appeal with the getting of attention on their griefs.

We all come to experience 'our' truths.
We all come to experience,
Realities lived others may not accept.
Or come to believe,
If they are not there to witness.
And yet...
Highlighted are the most ridiculous afflictions,
Repeatedly for all to witness close up on TV sets.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgotten Embrace

Through you I saw the Light
Through you I saw what is Right
Through you I felt my Freedom
Through you I found my Kingdom

Then it was taken away
Because of one forsaken mistake
Not knowing what I had
Now it is Forsaken again
Now my tears fall Unknown
While your tears are embrace by one of your own

A kin of mine
Not by blood or Birth
Only a kin of mine because of Rebirth
Emotional Loss and Emotional Pain
Emotional memories lost again

For those who experience
The pain I have felt
For those who experience
The Loss and the Hell
Are forever tied to me
But Never compared with me

My love for you is as deep as the ocean
My love for you is as true as the wind
My love for you is as warm as the fire
My love for you is an solid as the Earth
....
My love for you is as forgotten as the Depths
My love for you is scattered to the World
My love for you is as deadly as the Heat
My love for you s as broken as the Earth

I know you chose the Ladder
I know you chose the Other
Dispite the signs we have seen
Dispire the Feelins we have felt
Dispite the Words we have beamed
Dispire the love in ourselves
You stand there walking
With you lover's embrace
Forgetting the One, who may die again

((Dedicated to Katie))

poem by Nathaniel Sickels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Experience, The Best Teacher

When I was a student,
Many a teacher preached a sermon.
A sermon of, surprisingly, same subject.
This tedious theme could be thus summarized:
‘ if I could my student life re-live,
Very differently would I behave'.

A discourse denoting a dirge
A communication connoting a caution
If not a counselling to student who have ears
Students who would not shed tears,
Because they have ears to hear
And wise enough to understand,
Words of wisdom, even few.

But why to us their sermon relate?
Why to us their stories declare?

It is because about our future they care.
Careful, concerned and committed teachers,
Eager their experience to share,
Aware of the facts, glaring,
Facts preserved in an axiom,
The often quoted and tested maxim,
That experience is the best teacher.

Experience is the best teacher,
To those without any experience,
The best teacher is experience shared.
Shared by fair and frank fellows,
Who When good opportunities
Came beggarly begging,
Refused to these opportunities utilise,
Reaping the result of their recklessness, fully
Learning first-hand from their folly,
That opportunity knocks but once,
And once unutilised is lost forever.

But shared experiences meticulously applied,
Will save one the superfluous suffering,
Subsequent from the silly slip-up,
Of turning deaf ears to sermons.
Signifying that total respect to advice,
Plays a crucial role in molding us,
And goes to lend credence
To the usually used saw, that
Experience is the best teacher.

poem by Emmanuel Oduro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing Remains to Sustain An Intensity Given

The cresting that comes and wanes...
Does not fade within a heart,
That has felt the gift of Sun!
It remains and not falters...
To sparkle bright and reflect,
Upon those who witnessed...
And accepted a change that has occured.
Nothing remains to sustain an intensity given.
It is an experience to be collected.
Shared and remembered for what it is.
Not to be held to define one's greatness.
Attempting to achieve a stability that keeps evolving...
Results in defeat and overwhelming conflict!

Nothing remains to sustain an intensity given.
It is an experience to be collected.
Shared and remembered for what it is.
And passed on.
But some with greed would like to perceive,
With beliefs worshipped and symbolized!
That this giving done is of their own creation!
And they can not let it go.
Like a leaf refusing to fall from the tree of its life.
Remembering what it was.
And not accepting this process that moves on!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Screen Behind The Mirror

(m.cretu.) .
Heres the mirror
Behind there is a screen
Turn around
On both ways you can get in
The experience of survival
Look around just people, can you hear their voice
Find the one wholl guide you to the limits of your choice
The experience / of survival
Try to think about it ...
Thats the chance to live your life and discover
Try to think about it
The experience of survival
The experience ...
The experience of survival
The experience ...

song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking In Someone Else's Shoes

I feel like this about life...
If you have reached your 40's,50's and 60's
With a lack of identity and understanding,
As to who you are?
Do not expect from me my patience,
Or a tolerant hand to hold.

I've been called 'nutt's too often by those,
Who are still seeking approval from their mamas
And papas.
With some folks whining,
As if they need their diapers changed.

And the years I endured through emotional pain...
God came to my aid.
And saved me from back to back heartbreak.
With few caring less 'how' I survived!
As long as I was there to hear their complaints,
My pain to them was insignificant.

And as I observe and comprehend how some can be...
I see them now the same way,
Without concern.
There 'is' a caring!
However...
I don't get wrapped up dramatically about it,
Like some folks.

There is something to be said,
About walking in someone else's shoes!
They may look easy and comfortable to wear...
Until it is realized,
The fit just isn't 'that' comfortable.

A perception handed to one on a plate to eat...
With a choice to live life,
Is not life lived to experience all it offers.
Even if one is not ready for the experience...
There is a process called 'growth' that is done!
A maturity that happens,
When one heals and recovers from mental insecurities...
Of all kinds.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking Wounded

Somewhere, sometime, you were Wounded
Maybe as early as infancy when you were denied
All the essentials of the bonding experience
Perhaps the wounds were inflicted
When another toddler refused to return the toy you readily shared
Or by the mean girl who broke your favorite colored crayon
Or the bully who pushed you on the playground
Or perhaps it happened that first time
Someone more sophisticated, though lacking empathy,
Assailed your ears with a course laughter,
Aimed at you like a lethal weapon
Contrasting the cheerful chorus of joy laughter had always been
Maybe it happened the day you ran home crying
Mother revealed a secret: “Not everyone you meet will like you”
Unwelcome words that wounded and wound their way
Like strangling ivy around your core
Taking root in your heart of hearts
Passing years provide a scale of scar
Yet you are Wounded still

Somewhere, sometime, your Innocence was lost
Maybe it happened when your missing bicycle
Was spotted in the driveway on the next block
Or the day that special pebble found on the playground
Mysteriously vanished from your backpack
Maybe it was the first time you witnessed another’s tears
And yet perceived no evidence of physical injury
Perhaps it was the initial instance when you caught someone in a lie
Betrayal became a biting sting instead of just a word
Maybe it was on the day the friendly neighbor invited you in for a visit
Closed the door, pulled down the shades
And the most sacred shelter of innocence was shattered
At the unworthy hands of one of life’s lowest thieves
You learned another bitter truth
The knowledge of good and evil force-fed like bitter fruit
Time having done all it can to repair or bury
Yet Innocence is lost still

Whatever time, whatever place, or in whatever manner
Those who contributed to your loss of Innocence
Or at whose hands you were first Wounded
Do not hold the power to heal you
And they never will.
Even should they acknowledge and repent
You would still be walking through life wounded
Your initial Innocence still lost
Only you can sooth the hurts,
Bind the wounds, reclaim your rightful share of Innocence

Only Your Indomitable Spirit Can Prevail

Yours the choice to reject surrender and to overcome
You, accepting the role of Hero of your own life,
Who, in casting off from the past,
Becomes the Captain of all future voyages
Becoming one with the rest of us
We, the “Walking Wounded”

poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I would vote for the man who's lived life, who's done different occupations, who's been out in the real world and struggled to make a living, struggled to raise a family, struggled with life as it exists. So I'd vote for experience, honest experience.

quote by Oliver Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The beginnings of a deathbed confession

The beginnings of a deathbed confession
~
He sits grey eyed
Tired, worn by years past
Skin like beaten leather
His voice deep, gravel like
Speaks slowly with a purpose
Talking of stories lived
Each pain and every loss
Whatever love conceived
He has known in his life
He has felt and witnessed
Too many regrets to care
Sorrow became a familiar friend
Who he resented
‘I know’ he says often
Talking of my thoughts
As though he were living them
There is nothing new found
There is barely anything at all
The human experience
Will always be a rough ride
His eyes look out blindly
As though calling on the horizon
That they may close
And he may sleep

poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet -On Experience

One cannot learn from experience always,
For Knowledge is a sea; experience, Lake;
Some learn the same in hours or weeks or days;
Some never do all life, forever fake.

Experience implies one had done mistakes;
It is much wiser to learn from others;
To forget knowledge too, experience makes;
A continued process, it is, brothers.

Experience can't vouchsafe a man is wise;
And wisdom comes to one who God well loves;
Too much of experience could turn a vice.
All need not see the burst of bombs or stoves.
By experience, no man should turn haughty,
Nor should he try to be with peers, naughty.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friendship Blessings In Illness Adversity

after over a week
of nasty typhoid
an unpleasant
experience crippling
which induces
unintentional
extreme dieting

excessive sleeping
some pale introspection
when the earth moved
it left me unmoved
except in sympathy
for those in fear, pain,
suffering material loss

worse physical wounds
loss of loved ones
cycles of suffering
have many causes
too few sources of healing
thus in friends loved ones
are we usually most blessed

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Life Is A Fountain Of Dreams

Life is a journey that all we take,
We should fearless do every day forward a step,
Could be a fail, or could be not,
We should let life to flow.

Life is a mystery each passing day,
We wake up and find unbelievable ways,
We seek, we experience, we fulfill our knowledge hunger,
Each experience of life makes us stronger.

Life is a struggle and life is a joy,
We can experience happiness or we can experience pain,
It's about choices we should take,
Life is a lesson each step we make.

Moments of life are bad or good,
We live and remember those moments,
Memories will be kept forever in our hearts,
But hopes are base of the future.

Never give up hoping,
Life is it short but didnt finish yet,
As long as you are still living,
Your life is a fountain of dreams.

poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The experience of democracy is like the experience of life itself-always changing, infinite in its variety, sometimes turbulent and all the more valuable for having been tested by adversity.

quote by James Earl Jimmy Carter, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Gentle Touch of a Doting Mother

Not a figment of one's imagination,
Is a life of another lived.
Nor can one explain a pain endured.
Felt as others take this and theirs,
For granted.

Kept are these wounds to heal,
Alone.
Sometimes heard,
Are those moans and groans to hush.
With a wish for them to be gone.

Not a figment of one's immagination,
Is a life of another lived.
Nor can one explain a pain endured.
Felt as others take this and theirs,
For granted.

Some dismiss a gentle touch of a doting mother.
The ones unfortunate to know what this is.
Some dismiss the hugs given with kisses.
The ones not missing,
The nourishment a providing of this gives.

Kept are these wounds to heal,
Alone.
Sometimes heard,
Are those moans and groans to hush.
With a wish for them to be gone.

And a healing of a pain eventually goes,
Away.
Some dismiss a gentle touch of a doting mother.
The ones unfortunate to know what this is.
And those who are,
Fortunate...
To know and/or remember,
Know memories of 'mama' within them linger.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Wishes And Wants

As radiant and witnessed,
Is the living of life given...
Many are not perceiving this gift,
Their special blessing to awake each day...
With a gratefulness at dawn.
To appreciate the experience.
And all that is connected going on.

And as radiant as each life is,
There are those on missions...
To diminish this brightness!
With wishes and wants,
To increase their selfish feeding.

'Get up and pray,
Each day!
Get up to pray...
Each day,
That is lived.
Get up and pray.

Get up..
And pray,
Each day...
That is lived.
Get up and pray!

Get up...
And pray! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unable To Admit It

Accept your wounds and scars?
To forgive and forget the fact,
That upon me they have been afflicted?
No love that deep will I ever have,
For anyone who believes I can be left...
With tears wept to then leave me,
Grieving over 'their' pain and anguish.

Accept your wounds and scars?
To forgive and forget the fact,
That upon me they have been afflicted?
What makes you think to you I am addicted?
What has you convinced,
A relationship with you makes sense?
I've long been healed from your abuses.

Accept your wounds and scars,
To leave imprinted on my mind when you please?
You just don't get it do you?
When I said I loved you...
Nothing in that confession shared,
Said anything about abandoning the love I have for myself.
You are the fool unable to admit it...not me!
There is nothing about you that has stayed with me to crave.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reminders

What one knows,
Can not be thrown away.
Or be disposed of!
To unlearn an experience,
Is not like a pinch felt.
I can recover from being bruised.
Depending on who did the abusing.
And if on my knees I knelt.

But if I'm left to wallow in a sorrow,
That is life changing?
An experience like that...
Will be remembered for the rest of my life.

I know how to ride on a two wheel bike.
But for the life of me...
I can not remember the many attempts I made,
Before I started to ride without assistance.
And I've got scars all over my body.
But the ones in my mind...
Seem to linger there all the time,
As if reminders!
And some have first and last names.
Attached and dated to the experience.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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