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Comparing Notes and Sharing Agonies

Not into the emotionally needy types.
You know...
The kind that want others to understand,
Where they are coming from.
And not listen at all to recommendations.
But would call to shower their emotions...
Without hesitation!
Luckily I was able to pull myself out of quicksand,
While those folks stood around...
Comparing notes and sharing agonies!
Self preservation I had to grasp early.
And this was done,
When I was extremely young!
If I had not...
I would have long been forgotten.
But those into gossip and good meals,
Would 'still' be in discussion years later...
About the food served at my repast.
Those are the folks,
I have learned to bypass!
Very early when I knew,
I had to pass my own tasks!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Well Knit Organization

Go ahead.
Keep up that brave front.
Mask your emotions...
To prove how strong you are.
Keep your pain to yourself.
And guess what happens?
Something is going to crack.

Those who believe,
To keep things hidden and inside themselves...
Is okay?
And showers upon them admiration and respect.
Have already provided clear signs of dysfunction.
These folks will know everything and nothing at all.
They are there for 'everyone' else...
Trying to smooth the rough edges of other folks' lives.
And can not discuss the truth going on within themselves.
They will embellish it by becoming defensive.
But they are really a mystery within themselves.
They hide behind their agonies with a sense of humor.

I know!
Trust me.

Go ahead.
Keep up that brave front.
Mask your emotions...
To prove how strong you are.
Keep your pain to yourself.
And guess what happens?
Something is going to crack.

Trust me...
I know too well about that!
That kind of mindset was handed down to me.
But I gave that crap right back.
I learned too early in my life,
To keep my eyes on some folks!

And that's why it is easy for me today,
To identify those who lie to themselves...
And produce their own heartbreak.
I use to sympathize with them...
Before I discovered,
This was a well knit organization.
With folks soliciting on a daily basis.
And was nationally recognized!
They did not need another member.
It was not discussed.
That was determined.

These folks schedule their activities,
Around their doctor appointments.
So that gives one a clue...
Reality is not a hot topic with this bunch!
Noooo buddy! Not with them.

Folks like that...
Will never snap out of it.
Just hope you are not around them,
When their minds begin to crack!
After the affects of Prozac has worn off.
And their eyes have an unfocused glaze!
This may happen without warning...
So pace yourself slowly to the nearest exit!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Up Close and Vivid

There was a time,
I loved agitating.
Just to see different expressions,
Shown on people's faces.
Coming close,
To aggravation.
I knew my limitations.

I had gone to school to learn body language.
Interpersonal Communication.
And studying 'where' folks' feelings were.
You know...
Probing from afar.
Seeking to discover...
With just observation.
Who was disturbed...?
Who was emotionally disconnected,
And unnnerved.
And just 'who' was crazed?
Living on the edge...
Seeking to escape the maze of life.
Only to discover my own paranoia!

Today,
Few people are trying to hide their disgust!
Some are outright enraged.
With attempts to masquerade an outrage...
Many caring less,
If that it is shown on display!

And I am not quick to agitate...
For experimental purposes.
Not today!
Too many folks have venom in their eyes.
And I've learned to do what I've been trained to do,
From my early days of schooling.
I either wear my sunshades.
Or talk to myself!
Choosing to fit right in!
But I don't have to take notes today...
Too much of this 'stuff' is up close and vivid!
And I rehearse ducking...
Just in case a wild punch is thrown,
On its way to pay a personal visit!

These are not the times,
For one to blindly unwind...
To share false pretensions.
Too many folks are easily provoked.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These times

And soon the vaults were empty
of the stuff we call money
as many lost sleep at night
in a dream of deep fright

Horrific story after story was told
by folks we know, and in the news
by folks starting careers so new
by folks growing tired and old

Then came a call so bold
carried by The Voice of old
to be learned from our Earth
in these times of dearth

Listen to the call my friends:
water for life
water for all
water for survival
water for food
water for stability
water for equality

One by one, people began to listen
of a new change rising on the horizon
But for some the call was lost
in hearts of heartless greed
who care not of water in time of need

And so the banks remained empty
of the stuff we call money
and many lost sleep at night
in a waking dream filled with fright

poem by William Waterway
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With An Acceptance To Acknowledge

Early in my life,
I learned to navigate.
And appreciate what I initiated.

Mistakes I have made.
And not one did I excuse.
I admit I have a low tolerance for weepers.
Perhaps I understand them too much.
I have yet to witness the sharing of sorrows,
Mend anything to become productive.

Early in my life,
I learned to navigate.
And appreciate what I initiated.
But the loneliness of doing that alone,
I abandoned to socialize with others.
Needless to say...
Some lessons learned should never be abandoned.

Early in my life,
I learned to navigate.
And appreciate what I initiated.
With an acceptance to acknowledge,
Some lessons learned should never be abandoned.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Delicious Chocolate Cove

Now these folks know how to live
I wish I’d been there when
Chocolate poured from a fountain
With the perfect kind of blend

Yes, delicious little morsels
You can poke right on a stick
All you have to do, my friend
Is submerge whatever you pick

Strawberries so fresh and juicy
Pineapple so sweet as well
They’d slide them very carefully
Under chocolate as it fell

No matter what the occasion
These folks know how to eat
Long wonderful tables of food
Anything you might seek

They find a way to celebrate
Oh, they are so good
I wish I lived amongst them
Right in their neighborhood

So if you get a chance folks
As down the roads you rove
Stop in to meet a place I call
The Delicious Chocolate Cove!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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These Times

And soon the vaults were empty
of the stuff we call money
as many lost sleep at night
in a dream of deep fright

Horrific story after story was told
by folks we know, and in the news
by folks starting careers so new
by folks growing tired and old

Then came a call so bold
carried by The Voice of old
to be learned from our Earth
in these times of dearth

Listen to the call my friends:
water for life
water for all
water for survival
water for food
water for economic stability
water in the name of equality

One by one, people began to listen
of a new change rising on the horizon
But for some the call was lost
in hearts of heartless greed
who care not of water in time of need

And so the banks remained empty
of the stuff we call money
and many lost sleep at night
in a waking dream of deep fright

poem by William E. Marks
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Without My Interference

Very early I was given one choice...
To listen.
OR...
Suffer through the consequences.

Of course,
I knew those consequences well.
With bruises on my head,
From knocking it up against brick walls.

But that was then.

Not only have I learned to listen...
I now have learned to pay attention.
With less from my mouth going out.
And more with my eyes and ears open,
To receive and allow what is coming in...
To make its own sense without my interference.
To learn 'something' I had not learned before.

And you know...
It is amazing how this works,
To obtain comprehension.
Who knew this approach,
Leads to a quickened understanding?
Who knew that's how this happens?
I still find myself scratching my head in disbelief.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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St. Louis Villa

Citronella, Star Anise, Clove and Fennel;
Spice up my food for others to eat like,
'St. Louis Villa' at 'Nii Boi Town'.
Of the forgotten land,
Of the forgotten people,
Of the forgotten folks,
And of my forgotten friends;
Like the way of the life we have to think about,
But be very successful and healthy all year round.

The way of Cain is in you,
The error of Balaam is with you,
The rebellion of Korah is on your steps,
And to put me into remembrance is like the early bird.
Micahyah is the Malak Gadol,
And she contended with the Devil in a dispute;
But come to 'St. Louis Villa' for the feast of love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I've Heard Those Old Stories Told

'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
I've heard those old stories told,
About what folks have done...
To make my life easy and comfortable.
Especially told to others who did not know.
And who did what...
When I got myself into ruts.

'God...
I am so glad You know the real deal! '

And I wonder 'who' that might have been?
That came to my aid when I needed them.
Hmmm...
It's true,
I have had folks give me 'things'.
And money loaned I paid back.
I've had people to me make promises.
And I remember every one of them broken...
From the time I was a kid!
Hmmm...
I can't remember anyone,
Motivating my moves!
Only You,
My Father.

I could say my entire life has been spent...
With me doing the giving.
And to a degree that would be true.
Since several people I have known...
Have told lies.
That's all they did and still do.

And I use to listen to a whole lot of BS.
With attempts I made to correct some mess.
Do I now?
No!

'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
And the biggest lesson I have learned to date?
Do not hesitate in the waiting of others to approve!
You'd be a dried up old prune in the doing.
If you've been blessed with a gift,
You better give it and be done with it!

And let whoever say whatever!
Give folks who gossip some fuel,
To keep their lips moving.
And doing something bizarre...
While you're at it!

Learn to live without restrictions and limitations.
You and your time are not defined by those mindless.
Unless you let it!
Then whose truth do you ultimately live?
It wont be mine because I have my own to live!

Although I do give folks credit where it is due.
Like being witnesses...
To the gifts God has given to me.
That's it!
Anything else folks would like to claim...
Did not occur on my watch.

But I do understand,
Why some folks like to associate themselves...
With those who struggle through and win,
Their battles and conquer over grief!
Thank You God, Almighty!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pictures Still Say What Words Can Not

I have no wish like others,
To feel and relive miseries.
There is nothing about sorrow,
That has an interest for me.

Some folks share their grief,
And can not leave these moments alone.
Folks like these I choose not to be around.
Nor are they invited near or inside my home.

I've had my days of weeping tears.
And for years they would not stop.
My heart has pounded in my chest...
Feeling I would pass out or dead I would drop!

But faith so strong I kept inside of me.
Even when those I thought were close...
Chose to leave me alone.
There was a message from God I learned from that.

When people think one is down and out...
They will make their true identities known!
And just how much time,
If any...
They have,
To make their feelings shown.

When one is flat on their back...
Folks can show where they are coming from.
With no need to express where they are at!
Or vocalize what they wish others to believe.
Pictures still say what words can not!
And some words unheard,
Can be the best one unseen can leave!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What It Is They Do

Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Risk-It-All-Ogy

And what is risk-it-all-ogy?
What does that mean to us?
Response to eschatology,
End times that cause a fuss!
From folks who store up extra food
That's meant to last them years,
To folks that get a solemn mood
That fills them with new fears!

Who knows how many lives will change
Through ancient prophecies,
From cultures that we think as strange
That tell us Man will cease?
Or maybe this old world takes on
Some greater consciousness
That means Man's sinful thoughts are gone,
Replaced by happiness.

Some think of Christ and Antichrist
From Scriptures old and new...
And many saints will be baptised
And pray, 'What must we do? '
While others merely laugh and scoff
At thoughts of World War Three,
That Christ the Lord will rapture off
The likes of you and me...

Will chaos rule December time?
Will Christmas come at all?
Will folks rejoice with joy sublime
Like it's a miracle?
'Thank God we didn't die! ' they'll say,
'The turkey's almost done! '
Will Christians watch their children play
And praise God for His Son?

While folks get fattened by their feasts,
With further meals to carve,
Not all can eat these slaughtered beasts...
How many others starve?
How many victims get ignored
Despite Man's prophecies,
While folks buy food and hoard and hoard
And think the Lord they please?

Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.

We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...

poem by Denis Martindale
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Unconnected

Whether it is known or not,
Doesn't really matter...
Does it?
Who has been affected the most?
What feelings affected who's emotions?
And the one who uses this as gossip...
Will never know a comprehension,
Associated with a depth of thought!
They are there to be entertained,
Like the others.
And like the others who pass judgement...
It is what folks do who are unconnected!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So and So

Do you know those folks
Who will ask others questions
About you?
And when you see them...
They have nothing to say.
In fact...
They may walk away.
Pretending not to see you at all.
Then someone gives you a telephone call,
To say 'so and so' just asked about you.
And you had just seen 'so and so'...
When 'so and so' gave you much attitude!
And these are the folks who spread rumors,
About you not wanting to speak!
Blaming you in their gossip they do.
That's why it is best,
To associate with just few.
If a happiness you wish and nurture...
Is going to be pursued!
Keeping that to yourself...
And protecting it too!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Nothing Is Done

Do you get the feeling,
That it doesn't matter who says what...
About anyone or anything anymore.
This seems especially true...
In small towns with nohing but gossip,
For folks to value.
The more things change...
The less those who desperately need to change,
Do!
Even in big cities,
There are small minded folks!

And...
The mindsets of small town folks,
Will be guaranteed to be left reliably...
Small minded and uninvolved.
But yet upset with 'them'
Because 'they' don't 'act' like they care,
About their problems.
Those who sit on stoops...
And/or push baby carriages,
Around the blocks where their babies fathers,
Stand.
Seeking tips on good luck,
To dropp in their pockets!

They have suffered from under the rug swept stuff...
These folks!

With claims to have problems...
That have been historically ignored,
By those praying to God for solutions.
And when they come...
They don't like what has to be done!
So nothing is...
Done!
It just decays!
And folks find ways to celebrated it.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Started Rumors On Myself

It dawned on me...
Several years ago,
That there were folks
In actual discussions
About 'who' I 'was'...
And 'what' I did!
And vice versa!
As 'if' the court had appointed them authorities.
But then again...
You would have to be exposed,
To the environment I currently live in.
One would think,
These folks live just to get up to gossip!
Or look out of the window!
Well anyway,
As I was sayin'...
It dawned on me...
Several years ago,
That there were folks
In actual discussions
About 'who' I 'was'...
And 'what' I did!
And vice versa!
Believing any of that was their business!
Well...
I fixed that!
Yes I did.
I started rumors on myself!
Yes I did...
However,
They weren't the best!
One I heard...
Was so boring,
The person that passed it...
Made attempts to juice it up!
And it 'still' was tired!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Revolving of Unrest

He was not asked a single thing.
He had been visually judged and assessed.
It did not matter what message he carried.
Folks were not impressed...
By his manner of speech,
Where he lived.
Or how he dressed.

Plus...
He was too accessible.
You know,
The kind seen walking or riding a bus.
People like that are quickly disrespected.
Since they are not seen on TV screens.
And some perceive them,
As insignificant and busted!
Not kings or queens that can be trusted!

But early in his youthful life,
He was extremely experienced.
Having responsibilities,
Thrown on his back.
And from foolishness he kept distant.
Observing others and how they react.

No one knew of his influence.
Or fame he did not claim.
He was there to uplift those of low self esteem.
And hopefully raise their consciousness.
With dignity and identities,
That would lift their heads from shame.
But some folks have such self hatred.

He was not asked a single thing.
He had been judged and assessed.
It did not matter what message he carried.
Folks were not impressed...
By his manner of speech,
Where he lived.
Or how he dressed.
And,
Gone unrecognized...
Was his message.
Of how to release treasures kept.

And he,
Did not participate in being a victim in distress.
Like those who seem to be in contant rehearsal.
And decided to protect his blessings best,
By enjoying his peace of mind.
And leaving behind those who prefer,
A revolving of unrest!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flautist For M lady Erenestine

The soft sweet notes flow from the flute,
played by a busker old and gray
He chooses melodies to suit
The folks he knows will pass this way.
His old cloth cap lies at his feet,
already holds a coin or two.
His lilting music bitter sweet
ensures that I will add one too.
The old man breathes new life into
forgotten tunes from long ago
and turns them into something new.
He seems instinctively to know
what kind of music he must play
to fill his hat with coins today

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Ain't About to Happen Here

Just because you do not see my scars...
Or I do not brag about the wounds I've suffered,
They are there.
Some healing from the drops of blood...
That have left stains on the path of my journey!

And if for a one second,
You believe I am going to stop...
To pour tea and gossip.
You have picked the wrong one,
To do that with!
I am very upfront about that.

However...
I will share this with you,
I am in no mood to debate...
Over who would benefit from my experience.
Or the fuzzy feeling I would get,
From captivated wide eyed children...
I would rather strangle.
Since I've learned very early in my travels...
Experiences can not be taught!
They must be lived to appreciate.
Complete with discipline that motivates.

And I am not the one to sit patiently,
While someone decides...
If my life is worthy of someone's attention.
They may or may not give.
After my throat has become hoarse,
From screaming at the top of my lungs.
No...
For that I am not qualified!

I am not living my life for that kind of decision,
To be made.
Or waste my time in discussion...
About the disadvantages my actions may create.
No...
That ain't about to happen here.

You can,
If you wish to call it...
Self involvement.
I too have learned many lessons.
And I am not certified,
To solve someone else's problems!
Or will be baited to complicate,
My own issues.
And I've got some needing my focus.
Prioritized with a peace of mind...
I am not about to give up!

You can,
If you wish to call it...
Self involvement.
And you would be correct!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Give It All

(graham russell, rex goh)
Here I am again
Ive come to see you smile
I know you understand
I have to say again
Its only for a while
And still youre always here
Just waiting for my call
I wish I knew a way
To give more than I do
I want to give it all
It doesnt happen every day
But it happened to me once before
Those early years I threw away
Now I only have to hear your voice
To make me feel so sure
That your love is why
I want to give it all
Dont the minutes fly
And hours just seem so few
With days apart so long
Its hard to spend my time
When Im so far from you
And still youre always here
Just waiting for my call
I wish I knew a way
To give more than I do
I want to give it all
It doesnt happen every day
But it happened to me once before
Those early years I threw away
Now I only have to hear your voice
To make me feel so sure
That your love is why
I want to give it all

song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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