Big American Boo Boo
The article was written,
'Big American Boo Boo'.
Several years ago,
It appeared in a local newspaper.
And those who read it...
Dismissed this as a caper,
Of an author who refused...
To embrace the cheering of a war,
Sought and fought...
That would eventually disgrace.
And create wounds that soared.
Since then,
Jobs have been outsourced.
Communities of people displaced.
Unemployment continues to rise.
And embarrassing faces,
Show the affects of tears traced.
Institutions are folding,
Slipping as if to dip in quicksand.
Leadership is questioned.
And accountability absent...
With no one responsible,
Choosing to take a public stand.
An economy taken for granted,
Now on the brink of no return.
Signs scribble high in neon lights...
'Lessons Taught One Day Will Be Learned'
But no one then showed a bit of concern.
Except those with vision...
Who had their characters assassinated.
By those who now have had their egos burned.
The article was written,
'Big American Boo Boo'.
Several years ago.
And it was removed from the internet.
By those with influence...
Who perceived it expressed,
An unpatrioticness.
By a maverick professed.
And yet these same folks,
Who then refused to accept.
Have lost not only their dignity...
But also their self respect.
Finding their lives lived now in humility.
And in retrospective...
In much regret!
And yet their denials,
Are with them kept.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Without Regret They Would Rather Fret
Even with their BA's, MA's
And Phd's...
They can not return jobs lost,
And outsourced overseas.
Nor can they stall the slide,
Of a nose diving economy.
Yet they are caught up bragging...
About their ivy league affiliations.
With their much sought after,
College degrees.
While the obvious continues to elude them.
A common sense,
Treated...
Like a low class disease.
And without regret they would rather fret,
About exhausting their faltering debt with poor credit...
Living their best,
In the lap of luxuries!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Make A Dadist Poem
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are--an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.
poem by Tristan Tzara
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Melancoly Days Of Wine and Laugher
Melancholy days of Wine and Laughter
Written by: Wilfred Charles Mellers, Thursday, March 8,2012 @ 12: 28 PM
A fool I was to let you go I know
Blinded by the light I gave up without a fight
On me you depended and sadly it ended
Never gave you want you wanted
I took you for granted
Melancholy comes to the eyes I disguised
For me you once certainly despised
I let you down and shut you out without a doubt
Should've kept you in for that is mine sin
Should‘ve showed more support for life is short
Tears dropp over Niagara Falls for I feel so small
Living without you is a crime I must do the time
Treated you badly when I need you madly
Such a jester to give up my prize so unwise
I was gone long before you left know the tears I've wept
The guilt falls squarely on me for I let it be
Years I regret losing the most beautiful creature I've met
The fool has learned for the years I've burned
Engulfed by the fire from the heart's desire
Sweet are such memories of the adoration's I still carry
Such mysticism I you the first I questioned to marry
Although we are apart you still have my heart
The waters perchance muddy and happier you maybe
A clown so passive aggressive with no sensible motive
Kindling flames of passion I certainly not creative
It comes to me as no surprise that weary besets mine eyes
Pondering too late to set the record straight
For you I once lived so please find it in your heart to forgive
Best of friends perhaps now sincerely chances are I confess
Thoughts far too long on my chest they rest
And now for another passions burn
Lessons taught well I've learned
On you my back I once had turned
The loving you gave I once spurned
Till death do us and we certainly did part
A special place still resides for you in my heart
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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No Dots Do They Connect
Why is it,
That the very same people...
Who are today wondering,
With the asking of 'what's going on'...
Are the very same people,
Who yesterdays gone...
Refused to accept to hear,
A negativity expressed to them...
In their ears.
And those chosing to speak the truth,
Now and also then...
Are the ones today,
And those yesterdays gone...
Not only appear clearly to be happy people,
But also are very protective...
Of their peace of mind.
And those still left wondering why...
What's going on in the way it is today,
Have no idea what to say...
About themselves or their lives,
Or reasons to give as to 'why'...
Or how they feel that way.
No dots do they connect.
Or...
Can read between the lines without spaces,
Traced.
Or...
Colorized with crayon,
Etched to separate what has taken place!
Since this activity is missing smiling faces.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Treated As If They Are Losers
Those who learn and return,
With an outreaching sought to teach...
Those less fortunate.
And this becomes a commitment wished.
A respect should be given.
But this they don't get!
Many are treated as if they are losers.
Or accused of having tremendous egos.
To flaunt in public.
And these same people,
When they choose in frustration to leave...
Are said not to be concerned,
In giving their expertise in those communities in need.
A coming together as professed,
To provide those neglected...
Is a periodic chant heard from those preventing progress.
And those who have been forced to turn their backs...
Are attacked in tongue lashings,
By hypocrites trapped within their own ignorance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wasn't It Sold a Long Time Ago
Why are people so alarmed?
And what is it are they wishing to take back?
And from whom?
Integrity?
When did they lose it,
And who took that away?
Dignity and pride?
The last time I witnessed that...
It was on life support.
And I don't think they were able,
To bring any of it back.
Let's see...mmm,
Oh yeah,
Humanity?
Remember when homelessness, poverty and hunger
Were all associated with the inner city folks?
Now everybody wants to get into the act.
But...
Humanity?
Still has taken two or three steps back!
Why are people so alarmed?
And what is it are they wishing to take back?
And from whom?
Jobs and...well, jobs!
Remember the terms downsized and outsourced?
Can you say...
Betrayal and deceit?
And add corporate greed to that.
High prices?
Low or no wages!
The economy is on the brink.
Banks are closing.
And...
No one dares to mention truth.
Or the pollution done to the environment.
Why are people so alarmed?
And what is it are they wishing to take back?
And from whom?
Well...
Not too many are far away from ignorance.
So that can't be what they are wishing to take back.
And if it is the country they refer to?
Wasn't it sold a long time ago...
When racism was used as a distraction?
This country has been ripped to shreds!
With few wishing to prioritize,
A patching of this quilt done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If It Wasn't For The Love
If it wasn't for the love,
To me others showed and expressed...
I would not be here to enjoy,
Such a quality of life...
With a known happiness.
If it had not been for that love,
Upon me bestowed and addressed...
My disposition and condition of mind,
Would not be so full of light...
Shining at my best.
I grew,
I did...
To like myself.
I grew,
I did...
To appreciate both my ups and downs.
Learning I have found,
Mistakes and failures were not permanent.
I learned there were lessons,
For me that were meant.
Eventually I comprehended,
My life lived from those events.
If it wasn't for the love to me others showed,
Nothing I have accomplished...
Would have been remotely possible.
I would have remained self defeating,
With a blaming that was done.
I would have remained narrow minded too.
With a finding of fault and criticizing everyone.
If it had not been for that love on me bestowed,
I would not have identified my own self worth.
Or a dignity I keep now to pride.
With a knowing of it,
I make sure is shown first.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An American Soldier
Proud to be in the Army
A government Agent
Sent across the sea
This is an American Soldier
Dressed in a uniform
To show his allegiance
And weather the storm
This is an American Soldier
Sworn to protect you and I
Defender of freedom
and willing to die
This is an American Soldier
Given a secret mission
He completes his orders
Through strong ambition
This is an American Soldier
In foreign lands he attends
To the fallen soldiers
Whose wounds need to mend
This is an American Soldier
Upon his return he cries
Becoming a hero
He says his goodbyes
This is an American Soldier
Gratified our nation stands
With heads held high we aim
To honor this man
This is an American Soldier
A soldier is what you see
More than a warrior
He is part of me
This is an American Soldier
…This is my brother
An American Soldier
© 2009 Tracey Marquart
poem by Tracey Marquart
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Used-Up
Many people
one might meet.
On city sarcophagus street.
Are dead.
It’s just.
No one...
has gotten around,
to burying them yet.
This is what became
of the brokenhearted!
Who refused
to get their act together!
Who refused
to walk with faith!
Who refused
to embrace the light!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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We are currently working on new policies to protect and create American jobs, particularly by improving education. We need more information in order to find the best solutions to this increasing concern for American families.
quote by Dan Lipinski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Embody The Invisible
I demand nothing, but I want it all
what privilege do we have under the sun,
that gives us the right to the throne?
species come and go, but the earth stands forever fast
all river runs towards the sea, but the sea is never full
to discover the loneliness and be to proud to show the wounds
will forever wander alone through the years
but I won't let you near
begging for you to understand
the fear that lives in my soul
which is an untouched spring
read, what is written on the silent mouth
what is written in the soul
for which is written in the shining silence
we all have to read
my body will be bent from the burdens
when the shaking floor of life-force
reveal its chasm underneath
if only one could be two steps ahead
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Proud American Soldier
Proud American Soldier
(God bless and keep safe our fighting men and women in harm’s way)
I fought beside my brothers, as they died on foreign shores,
I’m proud to say, we fought and slay, our enemies by the scores.
One by one, we fought and won, wars down through the ages,
The history books are written with our blood stains on the pages.
Our skin is many colors, we are women and we’re men,
We stand up to injustices no matter where or when.
I’m a Proud American Soldier, my job’s to keep us free,
I ply my timeless trade so far away, across the sea.
When others cringe and cower, you’ll find us standing tall,
We’ll remain steadfast until the last, of the evil tip and fall.
Come what may, get in our way, we’ll never cut and run,
We’ll stay our course, with no remorse and it ain’t always fun.
We’re the sailors that go out to sea, we’re the pilots in the sky,
We’re the grunts out in the fox holes, and we all know that men die.
I’m a Proud American Soldier, my job’s to keeps free,
I ply my timeless trade so far away, across the sea.
They spoke kindly of my enemies, the same day that I died,
Then burned my flag in protest, as my widow watched and cried.
But don’t you worry much my friends, nor shed a tear for me,
There’s more where I come from, to fight and keep you free.
Freedom isn’t free dear friends, we foot the bill in blood.
We die in the desert sand and in the jungle’s mud.
I’m a Proud American Soldier, my jobs to keep us free,
I ply my timeless trade so far away across the sea.
I may be just a soldier, but that’s just fine by me.
poem by Michael Barker
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I recently reread an article of mine written in 1964, and I think it is still valid. There is not much difference. Many of the items on the agenda 37 years ago are still there.
quote by Harri Holkeri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A Reason And Rhyme That Connects
No one should assume,
They know someone so well...
As to take their expression of concern,
For granted.
Or believe they have stopped doing it,
Because that person is in an attitude...
And has exclusively to them shown this.
For no apparent reason.
And they have expressed this 'moodiness',
Before in the past to them.
If someone is taken for granted like that,
With beliefs that have not been validated.
But has been treated indifferently as time progresses,
By those with unfounded beliefs they hold onto...
They can also assume,
That a concern once expressed...
Will not again be addressed,
By someone who has stopped caring...
Less,
What it is that they believe.
Eventually those assumptions held in their minds,
Will connect to find...
Someone that has been dismissed,
To them has been genuine.
There is a reason and rhyme that connects,
To everything with time given it that takes place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Offending The Validity Of Truth
When it clearly appears those in denial,
Only choose to hear and see...
What it is they wish and want to believe,
The ones who are wasting their time...
Seem to be those people persistent,
In the underlining of the facts...
On huge and mounted neon signs,
Affixed everywhere to be seen in public.
Offending both the validity of dismissed truth,
As well as the many who claim...
Such activities are mentally abusive.
And affects the demands they present,
To have life lived from their perspective consented.
No matter who opposes the content of their entitlements,
With 'absurd' and outlandish realities they find to be pointless!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Mirror Image
How many times when reading a book,
do we identify with the characters within?
Their traits they have we share,
their loves and heartaches
their lives go through somehow mirror our own.
It’s as if the author was writing about us.
As though he has put us under a microscope
and then writing down everything, he saw.
However, we know this isn’t so
because he or she has written
segments of their own life
and by accident they happen to mirror ours.
Every writer will tell you
that they have their characters under control.
Having written numerous novels,
I know the characters take on a life of their own
and do what they want to do.
We become their instrument as they guide us on our way.
We end up writing what they want us to say.
To every writer his characters are real,
they live, breathe and feel.
The more you write about them,
the more alive they become.
So the next time you pick up a book
and the characters seem real,
they probably are to the author
who looks after them.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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To Produce and Spread the Legitimacy
I've overheard some people to say,
How they have to work two and three jobs
To maintain their quality of life.
? ? ?
Yes,
I've questioned it.
Even as I thought about it, I was in question.
Working two and three jobs to maintain a quality of life?
And those 'bigwigs' on Wall Street,
Entitle themselves to luxuries and bonuses...
Stripping away 'generations' of folks?
Literally!
Forget the figurative!
These folks are high-falutin looters!
Just based on whether or not their company allows it?
Pocketing millions to accomodate their greed?
And they may not be seen in the office...
Or in the buildings where they have committed theft and fraud?
And folks have elected a government to represent their wishes?
These are their wishes?
To be dismissed like this?
Even some plantation owners left the land to the slaves.
To show their appreciation.
Whether that was from guilt or not...
That is yet to be debated.
Ladies and gentlemen...
I ask you this,
Anytime you have to adapt to slavery to maintain a quality of life,
Is that life?
Or bondage?
Harriet Tubman realized that many years ago,
When she was brave enough to smuggle some black people to Toronto.
You've heard of the Underground Railroad?
Not the restaurant.
The movement.
But those today are thrilled...
Ecstatic,
To show that ball and chain around their necks!
And brag about standards and values they condone someone else stealing!
While thumbing their noses and attitudes at others.
And not getting a wink of sleep,
Trying to keep what is being taxed.
And we all know if you stop paying taxes...
Who comes to take back,
What is claimed 'owned'.
This is the democracy we have been taught that is envied around the world?
Perhaps that is why a global economic crisis has been claimed!
There is just not enough people willing to kill themselves for it.
At least not at the expense of someone else's luxurious lifestyle!
But then again...
Even their greed has enforced limitations.
Now those in control are heard moaning about producing more loans.
Increasing credit limits.
To continue feeding a gluttony without cash being exchanged!
Folks it is there in your faces.
This is not made up stuff!
While kids fight to get into college.
Not for knowledge.
Would we be in these dire straits,
If folks were knowledgeable?
there is a greed perceived that is needed.
To keep this addiction thriving!
And costly are the fees for it!
Just as wars keep conflicts...
And fears assigned to terrorists!
All there to produce and spread the legitimacy,
Of this sickness.
It is the progress of a demented society!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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About Survival And Life
There are so many things I have learned,
About survival and life and healing from pain.
I've learned that those who ignore,
Others doing their best to painfully survive...
Will eventually learn a few lessons themselves.
And for some who shun others as an expectation,
Especially those...
Unaccustomed to being shunned themselves,
The pain to them that comes will be incredible.
Although...
An adjustment aided by one's hindsight often helps.
Allowing lessons as lessons are to be taught and learned,
No matter how difficult the acceptance is....
To provide just the right amount of significant influence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I shall set my course to the end that no man need fear to speak the truth. I could not do less, for the opportunities for service my country has given me and the honors it has conferred upon me have imposed an obligation which is not discharged by the termination of public service. Much that I have seen since my return to my native land after an absence of many years has filled me with immeasurable satisfaction and pride. Our material progress has been little short of phenomenal. It has established an eminence in material strength so far in advance of any other nation or combination of nations that talk of imminent threat to our national security through the application of external force is pure nonsense. It is not of any external threat that I concern myself but rather of insidious forces working from within which have already so drastically altered the character of our free institutions — those institutions which formerly we hailed as something beyond question or challenge — those institutions we proudly called the American way of life.
quote by Douglas MacArthur
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Victim Of Learning Too Many Lessons
Why is it that it seems,
You express little empathy...
Towards those who are currently,
Suffering from hunger, homelessness.
And a loss of their dignities.
'I began to express that years ago,
When the sight of it would hurt me so.
And I witnessed those with turned up noses.
Pretending what was exposed,
Had been a dilemma others chose.'
But the circumstances today are quite different.
'How and why? '
Those who suffer,
Have lost their homes and valuables.
And images that impressed,
Others in a lesser position...
They never took time to address.
With their empathies expressed.
'And...
Your point is what?
Their suffering done is more effective?
And my empathy given to them,
Should be more reflective? '
But the circumstances today are quite different.
'How and why? '
These people have never experienced,
A life lived like this before.
'Neither had my ancestors.
But guess what? '
What?
'When my ancestors suffered,
They never discriminated by looking away.
And today you can say...
I am a victim of learning too many lessons.
And when I am shown a negligence,
By them expressed...
What am I to do?
Show them I have not been taught by the best? '
But the circumstances today are quite different.
'How and why?
Are these new lessons I have not recognized?
Have those old lessons been changed,
And are now disguised? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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