When I was at Hartford in Connecticut, where I lived during the war, I published several pieces which were well received, not only by those of my own colour, but by a number of the white people, who thought they might do good among their servants.
quote by Jupiter Hammon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Do Not Seek Publicity
There are those who give,
With such positivity!
And with just one purpose...
To encourage others.
They do not seek publicity,
For their good deeds.
Nor do they anticipate in waiting,
For those they assist to express appreciation.
They are here to give!
With the service to others,
They do so well.
And those blessings they receive.
Dedicated to:
Andrea Dixon...Springfield, Mass.
Shayla Dixon...Springfield, Mass.
Leola McCrory...Windsor, Connecticut
Edna Vinters...Bloomfield, Connecticut
Sandra Lindsay...Hartford, Connecticut
Virginia Pertillar...Hartford, Conencticut
'Okay! Okay...so I am biased.
They just happen to be,
Some of the most dynamic women...
I am blessed to know.
Is my smile too broad that it doesn't show? '
So proud am I.
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When One Is Thought To Be Kept Back
I had a professor who once stated,
In a humanities class...
I had attended years ago.
And...
That comment remains,
As an observation wherever I go!
'There are two who are kept at a disadvantage,
When one is thought to be kept back!
The one that is obviously being consciously held,
From advancement.
And the one too ignorant to tell,
What is the benefit being received from this...
In the keeping of others from attempting to excell? '
And I continue to think about this,
As today I witness...
The activities of those,
Who are clearly ludicrous...
As they look down upon others,
With turned up noses.
And this shows in a land,
Where great achievements have been made.
Only to smell of the origins from a gutter kept,
That has been actively dispelled...
At an accepting low grade,
Could keep people believing...
Some are chosen to deceive,
To have it made as they do as they please.
Dedicated to:
Dr. John Rodgers
Professor of African Studies and Humanities
And taught both at Greather Hartford Community College
Today known as Capital Community College
Downtown Hartford, Connecticut.
And...The University of Hartford.
Now deceased but Dr. Rodgers,
And his teachings remain 'timeless'.
'Thank you, Dr. Rodgers.'
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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1647
They were burned.
Long before the Salem ones.
In Hartford, Connecticut,
This was done.
It was told to everyone,
That they were evil.
And in 1647...
They were burned at the stake.
But their souls went to heaven.
And somehow this crime,
Has not lifted from those...
Who refuse to raise their unconscious minds.
And left behind the times,
Are those confined...
In beliefs a depiction of wickedness,
Sits within those who oppose
Such medieval controlling of thinking minds,
Still beset with religious practices...
And keeping themselves,
Enclosed in lost times.
Enforced to keep...
Themselves in divisions as all weep!
As this 'cloud' surrounds their growth,
And creeps!
Deep in the bosoms,
Of their restless ancestors.
NOTE:
Although it has never been proven that witches
were actually burned first in Hartford, prior to those
claimed to be so and burned in Salem, Massachusetts...
It has been revealed that this possibility did, in fact occur.
According to The Witchcraft Delusion in Colonial Connecticut
(1647-1697) as authored by John M. Taylor (John Metcalf) ,1845-1918.
And published by Project Gutenberg.
He states:
FOREWORD The true story of witchcraft in old Connecticut has never been told. It has been hidden in the ancient records and in manuscripts in private collections, and those most conversant with the facts have not made them known, for one reason or another. It is herein written from authoritative sources, and should prove of interest and value as a present-day interpretation of that strange delusion, which for a half century darkened the lives of the forefathers and foremothers of the colonial days. J.M.T. Hartford, Connecticut.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bellevue Academy
All the time I am asked...
Where it was that I had been educated?
Before I can part my lips,
I am told I speak like one with intelligence!
Of course immediately I am amused.
And I listen to the list of schools mentioned:
'You live in Connecticut?
Oh, you must have gone to Yale?
Or Wesleyan?
Or UConn?
But then again...
Harvard is close by as well! '
I got my initial training at Bellevue Academy.
Then at Arsenal Prep.
And at Northeast on Westland.
'Reeeeeaaaalllyy?
They must be exclusive!
I have never heard of them.'
They no longer exist!
But yes...
They were quite prestigious.
And I am not the only alumni,
To have been blessed by the teachings...
Or the discipline received.
Unfortunately,
These institutions are gone.
But not the achievements of the people.
They are all over the place...
Dropping just a 'hint' of their greatness!
'Where did this take place again! '
Hartford!
'That's what I thought!
Harvard...right? '
Whatever!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Month Of Re-Enforcing Stereotypes Has Arrived
The month of re-enforcing stereotypes has arrived.
With a naming of a few who broke away from them,
To remind others they too have the same potential...
If they embraced discipline, devotion and a work ethic.
It's the month of re-enforcing stereotypes.
And folks who have waited to use the words 'niggers'
'coons', 'jungle bunnies' and other degrading references...
Depicting people of color,
Can do so to say they are celebrating bondage.
Since...
Isn't that the purpose?
To keep people reminded of their slave mentalities.
OR like some folks like to address their 'connections' as...
Keeping themselves down to Earth.
And...
With much assistance,
What a good job people have done...
To prove a legacy of ignorance can have its visual benefits,
For all who are determined to keep stereotypes alive.
Note:
Are these images subtle? Not anymore. In fact depictions of
ignorance 'are celebrated where I live in Hartford, Connecticut.
And thought to be 'cute' by those totally absent of identity.
When a picture from Kemble's Coons (Authored by Edward Windsor Kemble)
shows a coon with a naked black child sitting high in a tree,
eating on an ear of corn, and I know this reflects the mindset of the people...
this picture released and shown to begin celebrating Black History Month,
can be upsetting. ESPECIALLY when there is no acknowledgement, whatsoever,
of Jimmy Brown who was the first Black President of The Hartford Board of Education.
AND those who are 'celebrating' those deeds of black folks in this 'town'...
Have no idea who he is.
'Is 'this' poetry? Is 'this' a slice of life? Yes, it is. A poetic flowing of an intention! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reminding Me of My Blessings
Thank you for reminding me,
Of my blessings.
Thank you for stopping,
My flow of complaints.
And restraining me...
When they came to contain with anger,
I felt!
God is in my life.
There to make things right for me!
What more could I ask for?
When so many aren't sure...
With questions that confuse!
I have no barriars...
I can not without Him,
Remove!
Thank you for reminding me...
Of 'What' and 'Who' I have chosen,
To choose!
And allowing myself to become upset,
By 'things' I can refuse!
Dedicated to:
Gary Gamble
Hartford, Connecticut
'Thanking you, Gary...for walking away
and leaving me with that thought today! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Died Inside Slowly
I died inside slowly,
When I witnessed my son Michael...
Doing it many years ago.
Slowly and in a pain I still 'envision'.
At Saint Francis Hospital,
In Hartford, Connecticut.
That was in 1970!
To experience it again...
For me,
Would just be repetitive.
'Why?
WHY can't you do 'nothing'
Bur pump him up with drugs.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Coloring Book
(fred ebb / john kander)
For those who fancy colouring books
And lots of people do
Here's a new one for you
A most unusual colouring book
The kind you'll never see
Crayons ready?
Very well
Begin to colour me
These are the eyes that watched him as he walked away
Colour them grey
This is the heart that thought he would always be true
Colour it blue
These are the arms that held him and touched him
Lost him somehow
Colour them empty now
These are the beads i wore
Until she came between
Colour them green
This is the room that i sleep in and walk in
And weep in and hide in
That nobody, nobody's seen
Oh, colour it lonely, please
This is the man whose love i depended upon
Colour him gone
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many People
Many people are here
Many people are not
Many people have left
Many people have come -
We have seen many people that are not here.
Many people have died
Many people have lived -
The many people we loved and do love, have gone and left us.
Many of our friends and family are lost
For fear has taken me.
The pieces have fallen and broken and can’t be fixed
Those pieces were my life
And now my life is gone
For I am alone with none to guide me through my time
I am alone
I am alone.
poem by Moe Moe Bob
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Shuffle Ball Change
No desires today,
Do I have...
To do a shuffle ball change.
Are you kidding?
I made a mistake in my tap dance class,
To ask the instructor Ms Phyllis Stone...
What purpose did that have in 'my' routine?
That was in 1951 or '2'.
Well...
Ms Stone was determined I would find that purpose.
On Westland Street.
In Hartford, Connecticut.
Every lesson...
She made me do that shuffle ball change to perfection.
And also helped developed my taste,
For respecting those in teaching positions.
I could not 'stand' them!
But I listened with zipped lips.
There was a number assigned to enlisted men,
When connected to the military.
That number is in my head.
And I can recite that just as quickly...
As my feet can deliver that shuffle ball change.
Seriously.
Some impressions are meant to stick and never leave.
'Uh...er..Mister Pertillar?
Feet!
Move them.
You're not finished.
Unless I say you're finished.
Ana 1 ana 2 ana 3...ana 4...
Tata tata...tata tata...'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Colouring Book
(fred ebb / john kander)
For those who fancy colouring books
And lots of people do
Heres a new one for you
A most unusual colouring book
The kind youll never see
Crayons ready?
Very well
Begin to colour me
These are the eyes that watched him as he walked away
Colour them grey
This is the heart that thought he would always be true
Colour it blue
These are the arms that held him and touched him
Lost him somehow
Colour them empty now
These are the beads I wore
Until she came between
Colour them green
This is the room that I sleep in and walk in
And weep in and hide in
That nobody, nobodys seen
Oh, colour it lonely, please
This is the man whose love I depended upon
Colour him gone
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You're A Good Man Albert Brown
Well you're a good man albert brown
And you was wounded in the war
And though you shot some people down
You're still a good man albert brown
Well you're a good man albert brown
Though you are drunk upon the floor
And if you're buying the next round
Then you're a good man albert...
Brown was the colour of the mud across the somme
Red was the blood you spilled upon it
Pink were the fingers of the nurse who dressed your wound
White was the starch upon her bonnet
And you married that nurse
And her name was else
And then along came dad
...i'll have another pint of...
Brown is the colour of your old walking boots
Green is the cash you'd love to squander
Gold is the colour of your wife's faithful heart
So get yourself home, no more to wander
And you married that nurse
And her name's still else
And another child was had
You're a good man albert brown
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not In The Next Few Chapters
I remember how 'old' people seemed,
When they were in their twenties.
And I was then a child...
With a wish to be a teenager.
And I remember walking on my toes,
Wanting to be taller than I was.
Or at least keep up with my father,
Whenever he walked to the neighborhood store.
And I'd walk behind him,
Thinking he was a giant.
And when I then became thirteen,
And my sister Mimmie was still eleven...
I got very bossy.
We were both 'latchkey' kids and...
Well,
I was grown...
I thought.
And I made sure she did things around our apartment,
I just was too 'grown' to do.
Like sweep the floors while I looked at TV.
She hated me.
I didn't care.
I remember being eighteen and being called a 'rainbow',
As the rest of the enlisted boy/men stood at attention...
After arriving at Lackland Air Force Base,
In San Antonio, Texas.
We were called 'rainbow'
Because we were still in our 'civilian' clothes...
And instantly demeaned.
That was their way of making sure we understood,
We were in the military and mom and daddy weren't around.
We were guaranteed to be made full fledged men.
Thirty came in a hurry.
And I had already been divorced and remarried.
And that was in 1977.
I don't know 'why' I didn't like my 40's!
Maybe because they came and went too quickly.
And I was 'still' passing for the age of twenty-five.
That didn't last too long.
In 1987 I got a phone call from my mother,
Telling me my dad was ill and she was concerned.
So as the eldest and only son,
I thought I would leave San Antonio, Texas...
Where I made my home then,
And make a quick weekend trip back to Hartford, Connecticut.
Well...
One very long weekend later,
It is now close to 2011.
My 40's and 50's were a blur.
And today at 63...
With both my parents deceased,
I am just NOW able to say,
I can enjoy every moment of my life consciously.
And feeling a whole lot younger than I look.
I know this may sound crazy, but...
I've got to relive something that I've missed,
Between my 40's and 50's I can remember...
Other than my parents passing away,
And my getting a divorce.
That was number two.
And...
With God's blessing,
I 'hope' not to do a number three.
Not in the next 'few' chapters I hope to write!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Look What The Good People Done
They were drinkin his wine
They were usin his name
They were takin the time to take
His name in vain
Look what the good people done to him
Look what the good people done to him
They were havin their fun
Look what the good people done
Well, the good people say things that they
Dont really mean
They look so convincing cause theyre
So squeaky clean
Look what the good people done to him
Look what the good people done to him
Its a million to one
Look what the good people done
They (? put him on walkin down ? ), they said,
Lets go on with the show
And they pad him on whiskey and say, boy,
Youve got to go
Look what the good people done to him
Look what the good people done to him
Hes (? on the highway ? ) to none
Look what the good people done
All the newspaper men
They were lookin for names
Pulled him out of a hat
They needed someone to blame
Look what the good people done to him
Look what the good people done to him
He thought he was the one
Look what the good people done
Well, the good people say,
Keep your nose to the ground
Then theyll build you right up
Just to knock you right down
Look what the good people done to you
Look what the good people done to you
They were gettin their kicks
Look what the good people nixed
[spoken - here we go]
Look what the good people done to me
Look what the good people done to me
Look what the good people done to me
Look what the good people done to me
They were havin no fun
Look what the good people done
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women's League Day Care Center
My early lessons taught,
Were delivered...
At the Women's League Day Care Center,
In Hartford, Connecticut.
I had to have been all of two,
Or maybe 3 years old...
When I first began the beginning,
Of an aware consciousness.
I though my mother was giving me away!
And I was quick to show everyone,
Within listening distance...
I didn't like it at all!
I remember Mrs. Hines!
And the wrought iron encased stairsteps,
To the dismal West Avon Street joint.
Right off of Main Street.
A stone's throw...
From Bellevue Square.
A tenement project,
I loved and hated equally.
OH!
I forgot.
This is a poem.
Not a Declaration of Independence.
Well,
Anyway...
The Women's League Daycare Center,
Was extremely significant in my growth process.
I didn't realize it,
Until I was well into my 20's...
What a gift, my sister Mimmie and I, were given.
Gee...
That was back in either 1949 or '50!
And Mim and her husband AL,
Are GRANDPARENTS.
You know...
My mother 'always' told us,
God works in mysterious ways.
And to this day,
I'd like to know...
How my niece, Shayla
And my nephew, Landry...
My sisters Tammy and Lisa,
Get to be...
So much 'older' than me?
Do we 'not' share the same genes?
OH!
This could go on and on.
I feel it!
Dedicated:
To the Women's League Day Care Center,
a name I knew it as for 'many' years.
Located in Hartford, Connecticut.
'Probably the first day care center established,
in the country. Who knows? I'm a writer/poet...
not an historian.
Although, I'm beginning to feel like a dinosaur.
A youthful one, I might add.'
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mistake No. 3
You can't bystand all the people
Stand them on their own
They will fall to pieces
So we watch them grow
Into strange and pretty faces
I don't know
Clutching to my lipstick traces
Watch them go
Chorus:
Make mistake number three
Make mistake number three
Make mistake number three
It's strange how much it changes
How they want to know
How cynical are people
That's where children go
Dragged into a conversation
They can't hold
It's so sad
But it prepares them for the mould
(chorus)
Why is my love like an ocean run dry?
Why is my love
Such a struggle with life?
You can't bystand all the people
Stand them on their own
They will fall into pieces
So we watch them grow
(chorus)
Make mistake number three
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knowing you might some day come
Knowing you might some day come
and how unprepared I’ve always
been
like Mr. Sloppy
in Charles Dickens’
our Mutual Friend
I made a list:
not meat, vegetables, beer and pudding
but number l, warmth.
number 2, warmth.
number 3, warmth.
number 4, a good snuggler.
number 5, someone who sings
while he/she works.
number 6, a dancer.
number 7, someone who grows & is
intrigued by
the mind. And
by the spirit too.
Number 7, someone who is loved
by animals; and loves
them back without
a thought.
number 8, someone who smells
delicious.
number 9, someone whose anger
lasts no longer than mine.
number 10, someone who
stands beside me. behind me. If necessary
in front of me.
number 11, someone who
is a passable cook.
number 12, Someone who laughs
a lot, thinks I have a fine
sense
of humor
& has friends.
number 13, someone who can be
original in dress:
stylish
warlock –In silver, lapis
& black – to my witch.
poem by Alice Walker
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Do Not Become Depleted
Hope things are going well with yourself.
And you remain 'connected'
Beyond the mess of imperfections expressed.
By a nesting of delusions...
That have come to rest to infest.
Keep some of that deliciousness,
To further explore a usefulness adored...
And rare.
Share it if you dare.
But do not become depleted.
Inspired by:
Maurice D. Robertson
Hartford, Connecticut
'Thank you, Mo...
For all of the gifts and talents you show! '
-Lawrence-
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The first census in 1790 asked just six questions: the name of the head of the household, the number of free white males older than 16, the number of free white males younger than 16, the number of free white females, the number of other free persons, and the number of slaves.
quote by Tom G. Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Know My Name
You know my name
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
Good evening and welcome to slaggers
Featuring denis o'bell
Come on ringo, let's hear it for denis
Good evening
You know my name
Better look up the number
You know my name
(that's right) look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
You know my name
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Look up my number
You know my name
That's right look up the number
Oh you know you know
You know my name you know you know you know my name.
Huh huh huh huh
You know my name
Ba ba ba pum
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You-a you know you know my name
Baby you-a you know you know my name
You know my name you know you know you know my name
Go on denis, let's hear it for denis o'bell
You know my name you know you know you know you know you know my name
Prrr you know my name and the number
You know my name and the number you know you know my name
Look up me number
You know my number three you know my number two
You know my number three you know my number four
You know my name you know number too
You know my name you know my number
What's up with you?
You know my name
That's right
Yeah.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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