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Sonnet: The Futility of Man’s Labors

The ‘why’ of many things is still unknown;
The ‘how’ of certain things, puzzle remains;
The ‘where’ of many things is lesser known;
The ‘when’ of certain things, waxes and wanes.

Most earthly matters are not lucid still;
Most divine things are known not in the least;
Most human achievements are by the ‘will’;
Most natural phenomena aren’t yet pieced.

Sojourn of man on earth has done nothing;
Life-span of man is too short to achieve;
It matters not whether pauper or king;
The man of wisdom does in God believe.

The greatest feats of man on earth are naught;
Compared to Nature, man’s work is a dot!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-13-2008

poem by John Celes
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I was made, not born

I was made, not born,
pieced together from broken parts.
I am many in one,
my father, not god but man.
Who could love someone as ugly as I?
Even my father turned away.
Who am I? What am I?
I was made, not born.

I was made, not born.
Casted out of civilized life.
Forced to call nowhere my home,
forced to live as an animal.
All have forsaken me,
condemned me to a life of fear.
I am a useless abomination.
I was made, not born.

I was made, not born.
Labeled as trash.

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poem by Damien Weber
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Young Love

Thinking about us,
And how we used to be,
Grown together,
Pieced one by one,
From something that once wasn't real,
A year ago I didn't even know you,
Let alone knew of you,
But now you're my world,
My everything,
Is that even possible?
Hearts on our sleeves,
We feel undefeated,
Taking risks,
Making love unforgettable,
It's not only in movies,
This isn't pretend or a dream,
Only if you believe it,
This can be reality for you.
Young love,
You make me feel so powerful,

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poem by Brandi Dybala
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Inside The Cross of Iron Shadow

Inside The Cross of Iron Shadow
====================

Shape to Guide Aligned by Light
Formed of Cross Divide of Shadow
Light to Darken The Cross Within
The Dark Surround The Light With Out
Shape To Confine The Shadow Caste Of Iron Cross

Pieced Together The Puzzle Within
Immediate Light of Circumstantial

Fade to Black
Cross Fade to Light
The Sound Staged Within

Shadow Sounds Free of Night
Forged Of Iron Shadow

Holier Than Thou Be This Shadow Cross of Age

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poem by Ricardo Antunes
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None of It Is Embellished

Go ahead assess and evaluate.
What I know already,
Has been lived.
If you wish...
You can interrogate.

I do not walk with sensitivity,
Expressed or exposed on my sleeve.
Trust me,
When you are finished...
The truth as I know it,
You will not believe.
Every breath of it,
I did breathe!

My sisters and I have been extremely blessed.
You have no idea of our challenges and tests!

I choose not to look back.
Moving forward I prefer.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Perceptions Of Reality

Rushing back to get their seats,
After intermission has been announced completed...
Are those happily deluded and deceived.
And entertained with beliefs,
That their perceptions of reality have been validated.
And hushed they become as if in pews listening.

Regardless if performers backstage,
Do the best they can to remember their lines...
Between acts to keep it real,
For the ones who have yet to experience to see...
How such beliefs kept are pieced together,
Only those priviledged have been picked to conceal.

Monologues like speeches are seldom sermons,
Unrehearsed without much practice...
To be remembered to produce the right effect,
That satisfies those with expectations.
Re-enactments practiced capture and attract.
And those who are skilled at this know how to 'act'.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Silhouettes of Vignettes

Silhouettes of vignettes
Selected carefully,
As one who chooses a favorite pet!
Remembering a darkened time,
That had no light to spare.
Remembering those who chose to dance,
Upon nerves deserving
Someone's thoughtful chance...
To take a broken heart,
And mend it with romance.

Silhouettes of Vignettes,
Pieced and placed together...
To avoid moments one regrets!
And viewed from shadows,
One hopes a masquerade charades!
Forcing a picture to complete what does not fit...
Yet the delivery can not hide,
The gestures that rise...
Giving clues of what's felt,

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Crippling Needs

Faith and disappointment!
Who merged this disarray?
What signals were introduced...
To produce excuses this way?

Prayer and dissatisfaction?
Who sits to wish for this hypocrisy?
Infractions that attract,
Leaves detractors more detached.
With a unity scrapped,
And no chance of it...
Ever coming back!

Hope and degradation...
Enforced to minimize,
Overconfidence and elation!
Pits an unfitting feast of people,
Against themselves...
With crippling needs!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pieced Together From Shreds

You say you don't understand,
What it is I am trying to convey?
And you read again and again...
Still not comprehending?
In a way you think,
What I've said should be understood...
For a quick dot connection,
To determine if it's bad or good!

To digest after reading?
For an analyst it...
Or I may be needing.

But I like the thought of bleeding...
A multiple meaning instead.
I love it when that double entendre is done!
And whatever I have said,
Gets to be a memory in one's head!

I'm not going to make an interpretation easy.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Scream Of Edvard Munch

i look at it again. I have read the story
how the scream came about as an important piece of
art in our history.

it was said that he visited his sister in
a mental asylum located at the foot of a hill
in the nearby creek in one of the far towns in Norway.

he was sad and had all the pity for his sister.
He felt inside his heart the eruption of Krakatoa
her saw the picture how 2/3 of the island was missing
by the thickness of the lava.

He saw the mummy of Peru.It was another sad story.

He pieced them together. Fused them all with his own kind
of misery.
He was on a small boat heading home.

Nature screams. The volcano. The mummy. And the misery

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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