By Choice
Whether or not I am eligible,
To live a life I see fit...
Under my fixed,
And budgeted circumstances...
Should not offend your sensibilities.
Especially 'if' I choose to ignore your opioniated comments,
Completely.
If nothing else,
There 'is' one thing I've earned...
With a learning that is essential.
And that's an ability to remove you from my consciousness,
At 'will'.
And out of my sight,
By choice.
With the greatest of ease.
Aging is a remarkable process, indeed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Proud To Exist To Witness Possibilities
I am glad I represent a generation aging.
With an acceptance to reminisce and reflect,
Upon the times I have been blessed to remember.
I am glad to be able to think with a thought process,
That connects with a wish to daily adventure.
And welcome a maturity I have earned.
With all that being conscious of it has to offer.
Although I will admit,
A loneliness when so many are dismissing...
There are phases of life that should be natural.
And understood with observations undenied.
And moving forward instead of backwards.
Or remaining down to earth unchanged.
As many aging with their delusions intact,
Would like to claim with a sameness of sanity.
But isn't that what stagnation is?
A stubbornness that is fixed in place.
With ways that begin to collect ignored dust.
And being stagnant and stale, unchanged...
Is something I don't consider fresh or impressive.
Or sparkles as if proud to exist to witness possibilities.
Not if one is to grow and experience what life is.
Or come to realize this adventure isn't here to last forever.
I am glad I represent a generation aging,
With an acceptance.
I am glad to be able to think with a thought process,
That connects with a wish to daily adventure.
And welcome a maturity I have earned.
With all that being conscious of it has to offer,
As a life I have learned to live...
To appreciate, explore and not take for granted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Introducing Doubt To Weaken
Remove I've done,
From a confinement to undo.
And to choose to escape,
From perceptions...
Time,
Has taught me to erase.
Remove I've done,
The faking of false faces.
Kept to do,
In fear that I would offend someone...
And masquerading in pretense,
Would find my presence more accepted.
Remove I've done,
Notions of impressions to give.
And to strip myself to expose my identity,
Has meant more to more...
Than the approval of someone lessened,
By a harboring of their own hidden insecurities.
Removed from me I have done,
Those kinds of deliberating limitations.
Introducing doubt to weaken,
My desire to live my life...
Free of anyone's ability,
To qualify the passing of their judgements.
That action,
Is not invited or solicited in defining my life...
Lived the way it has been intended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Existing As Is and Not Wished
I pray everyday to understand the unknown.
To grasp onto sensibilities.
Shown.
Hoping to uncover a hint of relevance.
With a belief something done,
Is making sense to someone...
Somewhere.
In this mental collective,
Referred to as 'consciousness'.
Or an interpretation of it.
Finding an acceptance.
If not present in my own environment,
To exist as is.
Beyond values given,
To preposterous myths.
With an awakening of a consciousness...
Experienced!
And not wished as a possibility.
Many choose to ignore.
But available to those curious.
And motivated with ambition.
Discovered as relevant.
To be explored.
And not chased away by superstitions,
Employed.
To limit a life one decides,
And has a right to live enjoyed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remove the Limitations of Our Ignorance
Bow your heads,
And together let us pray.
Dear Father,
Creator of all our sensibilities.
You are the Sun of Power.
And 'we' Your reflections,
Leeching on this planet called Earth.
And nourished by the Moon with You.
To flourish as it is Your wish.
Dear Father,
Creator of all our sensibilities.
Remove the limitations of our ignorance,
Experienced!
And with the 'spirit guides' who have been assigned,
To protect us with their teachings...
Remove from our steps those obstacles we regret.
Although with each step...
Some of us forget,
How powerful You are, My Father.
And they choose to grieve themselves to death.
Like sheep blinded by self reflection,
But without direction...
Faithfully digested to respect.
And help us not to be just leeches.
Help us be the best of humans...
Creatures You believe can be,
Of a Superior Consciousness
Amen.
We love You Father.
And those 'guides' assigned to protect us.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Undecided
The process of learning,
Becomes more valued upon observation...
And the acknowledgement of truth!
Reality should remove conditions for debate.
It would seem to aid those in doubt.
With little to figure out.
But many refuse to see...
What 'is' for what it 'is'.
As they seek confirmation,
For their delusions kept!
And that is why so many are left,
To choose the more painless side of life.
While wishing to live it to remain undecided.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mind Has More of a Youthfulness
Everyday...
This aging 'thing' seems to speed.
Some agitate their way through it.
Reminding themselves,
Nothing about this process
For them is welcomed!
And they are not pleased,
By anything it leaves.
And as I reflect,
Doing my best to accept this process...
I must admit,
Some of it I am not in total agreement with myself.
Although I go through the motions,
I am doing it with much ease!
Okay! I must say...
Sometimes I do get a bit perturbed and upset.
Especially when someone yells, 'Hey, grandpa.
Do you need assistance to cross the street? '
I grit my teeth with a fake smile I release.
Hmmm...
Is it noticeable,
My gait appears to be slower and more noble?
Everyday...
This aging 'thing' seems to speed!
And I sit on a nearby bench,
To gather my breath and gently breathe.
Wishing the aches and pains that come with aging...
I could put to rest.
Knowing my mind has more of a youthfulness,
That my body, on certain days...
Could care less what my mind forgets!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Witnessing As I Live
I have never before been given the opportunity,
To rehearse the process of aging.
Some would have others believe,
They are gifted with the expertise.
And already know what it is like.
I don't.
I am witnessing as I live my life...
With a wisdom I have never known.
And mysterious aches I feel in my bones,
As if done to remind me...
'Something' seeks attention and wishes it shown.
I have never before been given the opportunity,
To rehearse the process of aging.
But I must admit,
The process is interesting.
Although...
Being around those who announce their pains,
Is more aggravating than anything else.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those of Creative Inclinations
I love it!
When those who perceive,
My ceative sensibilities...
Exposes a sensitivity,
That implies a character weakness.
Those of creative inclinations are often compared.
With limp wrists and tea cups!
But there are very few I now know or then knew,
Who were shy to tell anyone a thing or two...
Or where to go!
Anyone connected to this creative process knows...
It is not a joke.
Not this process carefully invoked...
To provoke a higher consciousness.
Growing older makes one aware,
Of the strength involved in this!
Nor made of fluff are these creative disciplines.
The only ones who believe they are...
Are those who have unruly children.
And have themselves disconnected...
From the creations of their realities.
Wishing to perceive,
Those of creativity are lazy!
Which for the most part,
Has been reluctantly failures man made!
To get a quick buck.
To find themselves at dead ends...
And out of luck!
Shall I say...
On their 'lazy' butts.
Remove the creative process out of schools...
And the manufacturing of fools are produced.
But then again...
I need not to say that today,
Do I?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My life is the story of a man who always wants to carry too much. My spiritual quest is the painful process of learning to let go of things not essential.
quote by Real Live Preacher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Can Anyone Say To Unlock The Gates
What can anyone say,
To someone seeking friends to play with...
In a playground repaved.
And the bulk of it,
Has been regarded old.
And chained by locks that rust.
When everything outside of this locked box,
Has been entrusted to others to discuss.
What can anyone say,
Who is determined to see and live life...
That shows effects of decay.
Without using the same depictions,
That would offend a mind fixed.
Selfishly picking that which to experience.
What can anyone say to unlock the gates,
Of one's insight that betrays.
Without appearing to be all knowing.
Or too mature to have obtained,
A knowledge that processes with an aging gained.
And puts a mind retreating from this,
In a defensive mode.
One that has prevented attempts to allow aging to unfold.
What can anyone say...
To anyone accepting to live,
A life one fears to live another way.
And yet,
Can express with accusations...
There are those who refuse to listen them.
To have patience that can be evaluated...
As having empathy or a sensitivity one wishes and is preferred.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Visit With Aging
I don't know why,
You believed I was older than you.
I use to be.
But you and aging have become much closer.
And it seems as if you have been convinced,
To interpret every year you have lived as a struggle.
I'm not trying to interpret my life that way at all.
When aging came to visit me,
I told it to make itself at home.
And if I choose to do what I please...
I'm not making an effort to be rude.
But neither am I going to sit with it to reminisced,
The good old days.
Too much everyday for me is new!
And...
I didn't feel I had to excuse myself from it to explore.
I just do.
You on the other hand...
Seem to want to impress aging,
As a depiction you believe is an acceptable process.
Hey,
We all have our interpretations.
However...
Yours appears to be a bit exaggerated.
But I aint mad at you!
What your visit with aging is like.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cowardice, as distinguished from panic, is almost always simply a lack of ability to suspend the functioning of the imagination. Learning to suspend your imagination and live completely in the very second of the present with no before and no after is the greatest gift a soldier can acquire.
quote by Ernest Hemingway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even If Neither One Of Us Admits It
My life is not consumed by negativity.
To mention that which exists,
Is to acknowledge it for what it is.
To ignore that which is to ignore,
With a hope one day it will go away...
Well,
Does little for my imagination.
Nor does it benefit the reality...
Of a life I wish to live,
In complete consciousness.
My life is not consumed by negativity.
However...
The way you choose to view 'your' life,
Is entirely your business.
We need not form a partnership.
Or argue in debate over our differences.
Both of us will still seem to benefit.
Even if neither one of us admits it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Choices Poem) Circumstances Unending
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
To let the one you love go for the better
Or the happiness of poverty in suffering
Like a mother choosing for a child
you must make the decision out of true love.
Forever the greater good.
The eagle looks upon us all with his eyes.
Only if I could see it that way.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
When you do such a thing their is no going back
Chasing after something you threw away.
All in a attempt to be the better man.
The homeless playing a game of kick the can.
Nobody ever wins.
It is to pass time as it will always do.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
Regret and bitter
Feelings that will never sit well with you
Your determined to overcome, and it not be prolonged
She is gone.
Forever a bad choice.
That you wouldn't want to change.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
The portrait of your face betrays the feeling inside.
The things you try to bury and hide.
At one time you were happy.
At one time you smiling and so full of spirit.
But now you fall into a very empty depression.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
No one will come and pick you up.
If you fall it will be you last one.
Like a soldier you still march as if you were still on call.
Duty and service is all you've ever known.
And now a world sits before you.
And still your all alone.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many Moons Ago
This time and in this season,
Many moons ago
I remember having those ambitions,
To possess and impress.
With a wealth of good health,
And youthfulness.
This time and in this season,
Many moons ago
The pace of life seemed a bit slower.
And those with beliefs of it being,
Never too late to pursue dreams
Procrastinated with excuses made.
Dreams,
Whether done day ot night
Have their way of accepting a delay,
Of an appearance to have them touched.
When carrying a basketfull of priorities
To put them off as temporary necessities,
Time will give to see them produced.
This time and in this moment,
As I reflect with an aging process
I have learned to respect
A hesitatiing to put off that which I wish to do.
But not to do them,
Seems to me to be a bit foolish.
Since there is nothing I will sit in waiting,
For an approval to be made.
Or an acceptance to be given.
I've earned that right,
In the seeking to please the life I live.
I have earned that right,
To like or dislike what I choose.
This time and in this moment,
My wishes as they are
Have given me a gratefulness,
To feel blessed and thankful
For a basicness that brings to me the most joy.
That many moons ago I did not know!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Not For Eternity
Everyday,
All of us are given opportunities...
To explore and adventure,
Another aspect of life...
To experience something new.
And everyday excuses are made,
To have no time to find...
What it is we could and should do.
Complaining and delivering faults,
Have found many to accept this as their expertise...
With a choice to expose this as a gift.
And without solicitation...
This craft upon others is released.
Everyday,
All of us are given opportunities...
To explore and adventure,
Another aspect of life...
To experience something new.
And yet there are those who say they can not afford,
To waste their patience...
On something they rather ignore.
And ignore they do...
Themselves.
Commitments made to relationships.
Friendships taken for granted...
As futures of their children,
Delayed for a taste of procrastination.
But participating in something done...
That guarantees hours spent in frivolous fun,
Is given without a moment's hesitation.
Since this has been marketed as a life to live!
And aging with a maturity to reflect,
Is no longer regarded as a process to respect.
Nor is it prioritized as a positive.
And under a plastic surgeon's busy knife,
Everyone has a desire to pay...
Whatever it takes,
To appear and 'look' youthful...
Jusr for a day or a week.
If not for eternity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life offers two great gifts--time, and the ability to choose how we spend it. Planning is a process of choosing among those many options. If we do not choose to plan, then we choose to have others plan for us.
quote by Richard I. Winword
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My life is the story of a man who always wants to carry too much. My spiritual quest is the painful process of learning to let go of things not essential.
Special Needs Kindergarten
The students from the school
With the small bus
(the bus parents must
Stand beside, on the sidewalk
In front of their house)
Are not taught about how they are disabled,
But how they are unique—
How they are different from everyone else,
But capable of being like everyone else
If they are encouraged.
They are not concerned with becoming something
Except for becoming what they can become,
Learning for the sake of learning,
Learning to better themselves,
Learning so they can understand—
When understanding oftentimes evades them.
They read about their potential
And how they can still do remarkable things,
How the world can be at their fingertips
If they grasp for it—
Exclaiming, God-willing, hoping, needing, knowing
They can reach out and hold on for it—
If someone helps them when they need help,
If someone is listening and they return the favor—
And someone is
(ALWAYS) .
There is no one quite like them and they are content
To be that way;
There's nothing inconspicuous
Looming in the air,
Pushing pockets of perfumed
Ideology down their nostrils,
Their throats,
Their ears,
Or anything.
They are happy,
Or try to be happy,
Because they can,
And because other people want them to feel
That way.
Why can't we do the same thing for everyone else?
Why can't we believe in their happiness
Or their pursuit of it?
Why can't we trust in each other
To assist with our difficulties
And learn to care in the process?
Why can't we accept who we are
And be proud of it,
Especially considering how easy we have it—
Especially considering how challenging life can be for others?
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Messages Sent
They are not learning...
Mother Nature.
As they watch,
Their treasures burn.
From hilltops and valleys...
Messages sent.
Ignored they went.
Now a scorn upon them,
Has been justifiably earned.
They are not learning...
Mother Nature.
As sacred waters dry their cups.
Too long they have observed,
The suffering of others...
Now they cry in sorrow.
Giving up!
Finding themselves
In the same dreadful rut!
When for us,
Will this be enough?
They are not learning...
Mother nature!
No words spoken to convince
Have they heard.
With beliefs of squandered resources...
Will bestow upon them as your favorite choice.
To sing with wings and chirp like birds.
Rising consciousness as never before...
As humanity drifts towards new horizons.
Breaking down oppositions,
And expanding on new mental shores.
This comes for us...
And will not be ignored!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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