All That Is Regarded Foolishness
With experiences lived.
And an aging process accepted,
One realizes upon reflection...
How much easier it is to judge.
Than it is to self-examine.
Not many are fortunate to survive,
Through life threatening diseases.
To then step aside with their eyes open wide,
With a freeing of themselves from insecurities left...
Hidden deep inside to confront and rid.
With experiences lived.
And an aging process accepted,
One realizes upon reflection...
How much easier it is to judge.
Than it is to self-examine.
But when that moment in time comes,
An accepting of one's flaws and blemishes are done.
With a leaving behind trivial nonsense.
And all that is regarded as foolishness,
Becomes less tolerated to quickly dismiss.
Yesterday and those mistakes made,
And all that is regarded as foolishness...
Becomes less tolerated to quickly dismiss.
Wishing for excuses and alibis to create,
Becomes less tolerated to quickly dismiss.
And all that is regarded as foolishness disappears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Now Regarded As Threats
It was wrong to do from the very beginning,
To dismiss the foolishness with excuses to ignore it.
Now that foolishness has become a way of life,
With a tolerance to condone.
Those who had oppose the existence of it,
And the lack of respect with a void of discipline shown...
Today are themselves now regarded as threats,
To the booming medical industry.
And a determination being made to medicate everyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Foolishness Of Fear
The only people who miss,
The living of a different life...
Seem to be those who recognize,
The foolishness of fear.
With beliefs a better life lived,
Is to do it making decisions...
To live in divisions with avoidance.
And when it dawns upon them,
Experiences they could have had...
Were by them dismissed.
A process of 'what ifs' begins.
And aging for them is not done,
As gracefully as they wish...
With too much time lost to do it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Constant and Self Imposing
To feel not done,
With more to do.
With more to accomplish,
And much more to pursue.
Hoping what one did,
Has represented one's best.
But no one really knows that better.
No one but the one...
Who critiques oneself,
Harsher than the rest.
To satisfy in submission undenied,
A mission with a goal to complete.
No socializing comes to one...
That one who with self competes.
And to understand this,
No one can.
No one...
Than the one who sacrifices sleep.
Time and time and time again,
Just to make something even more acceptible...
And much more easier when peering,
Scrutinized
Under microscopic probing peeks!
This is what it takes.
To make something someone loves...
And creates!
Down to the crevice with perfection,
Sealed with no leaks.
For others to share, view or just stare.
And/or partake to satisfy one's glare!
For taste.
Either to be celebrated...
Or preparing one for heartbreak.
This...
Is not a life lived,
For anyone to despise or quickly dismiss!
This is too much of a constant...
And self imposing challenge to resist!
This...
Is not a life lived,
For anyone to despise or quickly dismiss!
This...
Is only the life,
One is willing to die for and exist!
This...
Can only be the life,
Of one who can live it and persist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Courteous In Demeanor
I received my first lesson early.
I made my mother upset and she said,
'Do that one more time! '
Her eyes were wide and fixed.
Here lips were pressed together,
In this mix of grin and tightened smile.
I knew that 'one more time'...
I better not do!
The best training ever,
I received in the military.
And I will never forget,
Being whipped into discipline...
At the tender age of 18.
Grown...
I thought!
And missing home within 24 hours!
AND taking advanced college courses...
IN the military too!
Arrogant and as proud as ever.
I guess today you can say,
I am a bit 'Obamalistic'!
As I grow more observant,
And peaceful within myself.
I see folks who dismiss their responsibilities.
With no acceptance of accountability at all.
And I wonder how they survive...
Being blinded by their self indulgence.
Who breast fed these imbeciles?
Oh well...
I use to give that a lot of my concern.
However,
Today?
When it comes to my peace of mind...
And quickly leaving foolishness behind?
I believe in exercise.
Yes!
And I do it everyday.
I know 'when' and 'how' to apply my moves.
With the utmost dignity...
That is courteous in demeanor.
First!
Then I quickly split from the BS!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exceptions
Exceptions...
Are dispensed all the time.
By those in positions,
Given authority to be selective...
To change what has already been defined.
Exceptions are granted...
Depending on the excuses,
Others can find.
And awarded they are,
To those with the same frame of mind.
With a forgiving of whatever it is that is done.
Or whomever has become affected,
By the one who has been accepted...
As an exception to overlook.
To then be regarded as a 'slight' imperfection,
Others with equal flaws and blemishes...
Would have long ago been rejected.
To experience shame and a life lived in regret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Day Unbroken One Awakens to See
From sensitive to monster.
Cold and thoughtless.
From homo to queer.
And other names I've heard called,
Over the many years.
From lazy to workaholic.
And from too discipline and driven...
Are those titles I've been given.
But vicious I am not.
Although I do live in that atmosphere.
Where people will unite quickly...
To throw daggers and eyes of spears.
And one day unbroken one awakens to see...
The levels experienced by those of different consciousness.
Which of those living in reality...
Oppose to those who curse themselves,
In accepted darkness.
To then realize who's life should be prioritized.
And which nonsense to dismiss.
And before one can blink an eye,
This is done!
Well...
Perhaps a few blinks.
But my point is this...
Whatever one chooses to dismiss,
Can and will be done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What They Wish Others To Believe
No one can dismiss truth.
Although the realness of it...
Is often diminished.
By those unaccustomed,
To face and confront reality.
Without a masking done that fits,
And publicly seen as an accepted image.
No one can dismiss truth.
Or accuse someone else,
Of producing to create a fakeness they live...
To hide behind what they wish others to believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If You Have The Nerve To Listen
If you have come to believe,
Someone can actually be blamed...
For your pitiful life lived?
Look in the mirror!
Add that person to your list as well.
If you want to accuse anyone,
For failures you feel?
Point your finger at everyone,
Who tolerated listening to your nonsense...
As they allowed you to get away with this!
A dead end just doesn't happen.
An accident in the making,
Has had several eyes withnessing it.
A mind condoned to drift into foolishness...
Had been nurtured to follow,
A path one sought with assistance directed.
If you have come to believe,
Someone can actually be blamed...
For your pitiful life lived?
Look in the mirror!
Add that person to your list as well.
And if you have the nerve to listen,
To yourself tell you where to go?
Pay attention!
It may be the beginning for you,
To the doing of 'something' about it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Egotism is not a good quality. It's not something to be admired or even tolerated. It wouldn't be tolerated in a field commander and it shouldn't be tolerated in a movie director.
quote by John Milius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Can Be Corrected Takes Initiative and Effort
Some believe their lives,
Should be lived with repetitions of chances...
And forgiveness given.
As if they are immuned from the learning,
Of making mistakes.
There are more than many,
Willing to keep making them.
Some believe any action they take is acceptable.
Any creative excuse used is okay.
And any thoughtlessness expressed from their lips,
Depicting the delivery from a mindless brain...
Is from them expected.
Leaving environments unchanged.
And yet all of this foolishness,
Is a reflection of a standard of life that has been approved.
And those approving this standard?
They are the ones always willing to put the blame,
For any of their failures...
On someone intelligent enough to admit,
What can be corrected takes initiative and effort.
And those who oppose conflicts they have started,
By their absence of seeing daylight...
Are the ones who denounce such appearances of nonconformity,
As actions that will be no longer tolerated...
In the best of their speech deliveries.
Not comprehending their ability to make speeches,
Is not what is needed by those protesting...
The addressing of additional impressive ignorance.
Interpreting what heathens do when unleashed,
Is difficult to swallow...
When those come forward to speak on microphones,
To be heard with their explanations...
Are clearly the ones to blame.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Meeting Is No Accident
Please do not dismiss me.
Or the approach,
I have chosen to get closer.
I am not professional at this.
But I could not simply sit...
And watch what I could not resist,
Up and go away!
Not if I can delay its parting.
Please do not dismiss me.
There is something about us,
Too familiar to ignore.
Your eyes and walk...
And patterns of speech.
When I hear you talk...
It feels as if I have known this before.
And when you speak,
It soothes.
With a calmness that attracts!
Please do not dismiss me.
My wishes for someone like you...
Recognizes what you have,
And I'm wanting more of that!
To achieve a happiness...
I know that would make us,
Joyfully glad!
Please do not dismiss me.
At least...
Let us spend a moment,
To allow you to discover me.
We belong together!
'Why' and 'how' that is,
Who knows?
But our meeting is no accident.
And I know that for a fact,
Indeed.
This has happened purposely.
Please do not dismiss me.
Look into my eyes.
Can't you feel something inside of you...
That announces a 'connection' between us,
Has come to stay and has finally arrived?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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From An Eye to Mind Point of View
Little of my life is spent,
Living it by 'quotations'.
Researched to uncover...
Someone 'selected'
To have respected 'intelligence'.
Observation...
And personal experience,
Has been a 'teaching' process...
Of my valued learning.
As I yearn to adventure more.
Exploring life,
From an eye to mind point of view.
That delivers from outside...
My insight that becomes assisted,
By this accepted invitation...
I am not so quick to dismiss as lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let Them Be
Those who DON'T care about themselves,
Just let-them-be.
Let them be.
Yes...
Those who DON'T respect themselves or anyone,
Just let them be.
Let-them-be.
If they have a life of foolishness,
And this is all they've ever known 'and' accepted....
Show them you are serious about your life,
And...
Let them be.
Just let them be.
Those who DON'T care about themselves or ever have,
Just let-them-be.
Let them be.
Those who DON'T respect themselves or anybody,
Just...
Let them be.
Let-them-be.
If they have a life of foolishness...
Don't expect no more from them,
You will not get it.
A fool will only wish for more foolishness,
So let-them-be.
Let them be.
YES...
A fool will only wish for more foolishness,
So let-them-be.
LET THEM BE!
I said...
A fool will only be a fool to see,
So let the fool be.
Let-Them-Be.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Was
It was all that had been wanted,
Back then.
When wishes seemed easier to dream,
And to get.
It was all that had been asked for,
With an anticipation for it to arrive.
And when it was delivered,
It came as no surprise.
It was focused with a wish to be wanted.
There was a time many remember lived,
At a much slower pace.
When a time that was,
Didn't seem that far away.
And the confessing of love shared,
Was there to stay.
And when something 'was' loved,
The meaning of it had been meant.
But today what 'was' is easily forgotten,
The moment when something appears...
To be quickly taken by one's theft of it.
'It took years of an emotional investment,
To establish that relationship.
And in seconds someone else,
With looks and promises and nothing more...
Came along to destroy its value.
To replace it with accepted nonsense.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Wish To Get Paid For The Publicity
I have been mentally harrassed.
And my mind has been taken,
To inapproriate places.
Leaving my imagination...
To become,
Touched with such a disturbing hold...
I can not sleep peacefully at night,
With unsolicited thoughts...
I have never had before.
'And...
When exactly did this happen,
To merit your charges against...
The defendant? '
It doesn't matter.
It happened.
And besides a wealth of media coverage,
I desire my accusations to pay for a life of leisure...
I am due,
Just for having the audacity to make such ridiculous claims.
Enough.
Let's get down to business.
'And you expect us to find fault with the defendant,
Based upon your foolishness?
You are relying on the public,
To be the judge and jury? '
I expect my 'foolishness',
As you put it...
To be as legitimate as the rest of the 'foolishness',
That has today become prioritized.
AND...
Judge and jury courting whatever the laws may be,
I wish to get paid for the publicity coming to you FREE...
Since I alone created to generate overwhelming TV ratings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Dust Up
As a learning experience,
It is much more difficult...
To expect anyone to listen,
Than it is to teach them...
The difference between how and why,
A listening done will affect their time.
And the taking of it for granted...
Is something no one should do.
And one's expectations that the wasting of it,
Is going to gain empathy...
From those who had patience to sit with a listening,
No matter how bored one gets going through the process...
Is going to prevent a slipping of time,
To rush through their fingers.
With opportunities set aside waiting for anyone's decision,
To be made and done with a seletive picking to come.
Once an aging process starts and is noticed,
There is no playing of hide and seek with it...
To disregard those believing they have hidden in safe places.
Since in most cases everyone will be found.
Either forgotten to eventually dismiss.
Or stored away on top awaiting somewhere,
To be lowered into the ground...
With eyes and ears shut to dust up...that's it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is Something Within Us That Refuses Change
So many lifetimes I have lived,
Among some who have just lived one.
Experiences I have had a plenty.
And many I observe have had few,
Or perhaps none from their point of view.
It is difficult to dismiss those trials and tribulations.
And the obstacles that come with growth...
Which are purposely set on one's path to take notice.
So many lifetimes I have lived,
Among some who have just lived one.
Experiences I have had a plenty.
And many I observe have had few,
Or perhaps none from their point of view.
And those making attempts to grasp onto the past,
Are not so eager to let go from that which has detached.
Like the gifts of seasons that come to give, bestow and leave...
There is something within us that refuses change that comes drastically.
Although being a part of 'nature' has not identified that as reality.
It is difficult to dismiss those trials and tribulations.
And the obstacles that come with growth...
Which are purposely set on one's path to take notice.
There is something within us that refuses change.
Although change is all we know.
There is something within us that refuses change.
Although change is all we know.
There is something within us that refuses change.
Although change is all we know.
Change is...
All we know!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reluctant To Leave Those 'Yesterdays' Alone
If there is one thing learned,
That growing older teaches...
The expressing of wisdom,
Even done innocently...
In the exchanging of conversation,
Becomes regarded as suspicious.
Especially amongst those who wish,
Their aging appearances...
Still bestows upon them a youthful glow.
To enable them to dismiss,
Any experience that reveals they too...
Are growing old!
And the evidence of that,
Shows with the lack of wisdom shown...
To those who are actually much younger,
Who today compete with the elderly...
Who are reluctant to leave those 'yesterdays' alone.
With the showing today of any guidance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Attached To A Retro-Fitness
Attached to a retro-fitness...
Like a face that has been lifted.
Prepared and equipped,
To manufacture again anything...
Resembling one's comfort with it,
Is a wish for many to pretend their lives...
Do not with an aging process exist.
With a reality now speeding ahead as it is...
Ushered quickly away from their minds,
That will erase to take the place...
All signs of the times now lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Eyes Are Smiling
Hungry are the people,
Who seek to rid their fences.
They wish to heal a brokenness...
That aided their indifference.
And quickly they awaken,
From their foolishness and defenses.
Clearing misunderstandings,
Are sought with a demanding.
Something in the air,
Is making all aware...
A forgiveness is now commanding!
Being chased away is evil!
The demons can feel their ending.
No longer are they given,
Ears willing to give them a listen.
Their days are numbered and so are they.
And they are holding onto strategies...
That are slowly fading away!
Hungry are the people,
Who seek to rid their fences.
They wish to heal a brokenness...
That aided their indifference.
And quickly they awaken,
From their foolishness and defenses.
And their eyes are smiling!
As divisions between them abide and subside!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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