Cut and Separate Quick to Split
There are those who believe themselves chosen,
To hold up the process of one's life.
They are the ones who elect to be understood...
With no comprehension or faith to do things.
Not the way they should be done.
Unless they have a say...
In which way they decide,
What has to be done for them is right.
And something that initiates,
A feeling of false pride.
Even though what gets done,
Is at a time that arrives too late for some.
With an expectation for others they delay...
Should sit and wait with a patience,
That has become frayed.
Strained and frazzled.
Or...
They wish to debate uselessly,
Over that which should have taken place.
And wasting as much time as they can,
To be understood!
'For goodness sake!
I am not the cause for this reaction! '
When folks like this,
Began to flaunt excuses to abuse and disrespect...
Never acknowledge what it is that they do,
Because from you they will determine...
You have become accustomed to their neglect!
And from you expect apologies.
Sever yourself from these kinds of people.
Cut and separate quick to split...
From this addicting BS.
And have none of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Those Who Say It Is Never Too Late, It Is!
For those who say it is never too late,
It is!
The only thing those who choose to procrastinate do,
Is use more time to make excuses.
And this they do from the experience of it!
Doing so to abuse someone's time.
For those who say it is never too late,
It is!
With thoughtlessness attached.
And at the expense of getting attention.
Since their comprehension is only used to waste.
In celebration of their own hesitation.
For those who say it is never too late,
It is!
With an aspiration to agitate those exasperated,
To heights of exacerbation unnecessarily created.
And pleasing no one but those who choose to bait,
Disrespect and neglect achieved.
For those who say it is never too late,
It is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Are So Creative
When some folks begin...
To make excuses.
It is a process for them,
That never ends.
They keep making excuses,
To use and abuse their family and friends.
In an addicting process...
Predictable!
Eventually identified as lies.
And applied over and over again.
Some are so creative,
As to make people believe...
Those who can see through this,
Are wrong not to comprehend...
An obvious illness,
Hidden within!
And why excuses for them exist.
Going on in their minds,
Without the slightest resistance...
Time after time.
And then comes the campaign...
To discredit and bad mouth others.
Either stating someone believes,
They have opinions that are not concrete.
When anyone who has ever made contact with them...
Notices too late,
They too have been wrapped up in a waste of time...
Helping the excuse maker to defend!
Only to find themselves in public disagreements.
And having the innocent eyes of a pathological liar...
Gaining sympathy from those,
Who had not been over time exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Understood To Exclude Them From Truths
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Quick to betray,
If their insecurities are threatened.
But yet to display,
Are their excuses made with few exceptions.
Associations with people like this,
Over time decreases in respect.
Explanations of their neglect...
Eventually from them some should expect.
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Maturity is dismissed,
In the minds of people with this addiction.
And it is unfortunate they allow themselves...
To be chased away by delusions.
With a praying done their delusions will stay,
To be understood to exclude them...
From truths they painfully detest.
And hate to face from day to day.
As a life lived in reality eventually fades.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Accept Apologies
Have I done many things,
That were 'blindly' experimenttal?
Well...
I was not completely blind.
And yes,
I confess to being adventurous.
Do I have regrets,
For doing those things...
That were less socially accepted?
Gee...
You have no idea how I wish,
These questions you ask...
Were from a multiple choice test.
But...
I was born with a creative nature.
And I've done my best to express those interests.
So...
Even though some folks may have been upset,
I have no regrets.
Hopefully a time will come,
When more will welcome that choice to live.
And people will remove their noses,
From cracks and crevices on other folks exposed.
I keep my fingers crossed on that!
'You are direct and bold,
Aren't you? '
What did you expect?
Apologies made with excuses?
'Well...
Yes.
I guess.'
I accept apologies!
But...
Excuses I don't make.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Casting One's Own Shadow
Call your trip whatever you wish.
I've learned not to debate, argue...
Or 'franchise' anyone's opinion,
As if to make mine!
Nor do I agree to evaluate...
Someone's statement,
Whether a line given to solicit...
An opinion I've given in anything I've written.
I've learned an exchange of experiences,
Is not a possibility.
And I've learned this by listening.
And this many people seldom do.
I've been up and down too many times,
To discover my own comprehension...
About life.
My life and how 'my' life is connected.
When I found criticisms made of me by others...
'Added' to my understanding,
If right, wrong or indifferent when given...
I still had to brush my own teeth.
Walk on my own two feet!
And be accountable for my own actions.
I stopped making excuses,
When they began not to make sense to me.
I spent more time defending myself...
Instead of living my life.
And I began to do that...
When I started to appreciate myself.
And 'if' I was to give my advice to anyone...
AND...
I did say 'if'.
I would say this...
If anyone finds they are seeking acceptance,
On a path they have chosen to take...
It is not a path they have chosen.
How can it be?
How can someone declare something theirs,
When others can do the same thing thing?
If voices can be heard?
Footprints can be seen?
And the path one takes has already been paved?
That is following...
Not casting,
One's own shadow!
I do not wish,
I demand people to get out of my light.
What would be the point,
If I am patiently waiting for someone else to decide...
Whether or not they want to move out of it?
That kind of time I am not giving to anyone!
Period.
I've learned many lessons.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Much Too Late!
It is much too late,
To remove that which has taken place.
While you were asleep,
And not in your mind 'awake'.
You devoured such a taste for hatred.
Served as you digested it...
From the plate.
And licking it clean after you ate!
Oh it is much too late,
To erase affects of disrespect.
Or to think forgiveness sits,
Ready to be given.
From those broken hearts intended,
Now too painful to mend.
It is much too late,
To appreciate those you were taught to despise.
Much too late,
To replace false images deceived by your lies.
It is much too late to fake an empathy for others...
When it has been known,
None you've shown.
Or attempts you could have tried.
It is much too late,
To remove what has already taken place.
And much too late to wait,
For an understanding to come...
From anyone who has suffered,
By those things you've done!
It is much too late!
For those apologies spoken,
To be believed by anyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visitor
Honestly?
You asked for my opinion,
And here it is for free!
Anyone can say what they want.
And process what they want to share.
I've learned over the years,
To keep my business to myself...
And not let my business become 'theirs'.
Folks who have a different reality,
That's fine...
It may not be mine.
Wherever their minds are,
That's on them...
I keep my mind away!
I'm not going to stay around anyone,
Making attempts to be accepted...
By choosing right words to say!
I enjoy my life and where it is right now.
And that was a long time coming.
I take my time listening to the birds...
And sometimes with them I'm humming!
I appreciate the little things,
And observe again what was passed by!
When I talk to someone in conversation...
I look them in the eyes.
I don't disrespect anyone with neglect,
By looking away or up to the sky!
That kind of treatment is worse than telling a lie!
And from those kinds of people...
I do my best to hide!
I've learned to have fun,
And sometimes by myself.
I don't have to be in a crowd of folks...
To feel important or laugh at bad jokes.
And honesty comes first with me.
Someone who doesn't give it is instantly dismissed!
I don't waste my time with pretense or self indulgence.
Or kiss up to anyone to be part of someone's clique!
And if I show myself in disguise,
Wearing a mask that does not fit!
I want it known,
I am either not feeling well...
Or around those that are making me sick!
And...
That's not a habit I would normally condone.
That is why affairs like these I'd rather leave alone!
'Oh?
So I take it you are a visitor,
And not from around this area?
I must get back to mingling with my friends.
Thank you for your observations!
You never know...
We might meet again! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm Frazzled
Frazzled by the foolishness turned on,
And the quality that's gone...
As the people try to pawn,
All their values quick.
And I'm frazzled by the...
Hopelessness that's fed,
Accepted without care...
By the people everywhere,
Sobbing in their pits.
And within their pits,
Holding on with tightened grips.
Oh I'm frazzled by the despair that I see.
I'm frazzled by the frowns surrounding me.
I'm frazzled by the acceptance of all this.
And no one will admit,
This is sick!
And I'm frazzled by the sight of all of it!
Oh yes I'm frazzled by the...
Foolish turned on.
And the quality that's gone,
As the people try to pawn...
All their values quick.
I'm frazzled by the quality that's gone,
As the people try to pawn...
All their values quick.
This is sick.
And I'm not 'hip' to this one bit!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Trying to Please
By the time you decide
Your life needs more attention...
You might find you are still too busy,
Not listening!
Yet wondering whose life
You've been living and giving,
All your time to!
And IF it is realized...
Neither one of you have spent any time at all,
Understanding with comprehension.
Who it is you are trying to please!
And what it is you've learned,
About wasting time on others who can't see...
The misery and depth of the grief you receive!
You're trying to please!
And that is as visible as a boarded window...
To those who could care less,
What it was you were doing for them.
Even if they knew!
Some folks 'ain't' that connected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Up And Disappeared
There has been a lot of listening missed,
That did not reach either your left...
Or right ear.
And I know there has been many attempts...
To reach you.
But you...
Refused to pay attention.
Since what was said you did not want to hear!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
But the only thing your stubborn held fits,
Has not understood...'and' 'that' you've dismissed.
Any understanding those few were willing to give,
Has up and disappeared with no regret shown for it!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Too Late To Appease With Trite Apologies
Let me bring you up to date,
And clarify that notion...
What you 'assume' for you,
Is not too late to do.
To believe someone stands by and waits,
For you to comprehend...
What should have been comprehended,
During times that have come to an end...
Way back when...and 'then'?
It is too late to announce your understanding.
For an effect you expect to get.
To cleanse a slate.
Feelings you purposely hurt have healed.
And reminiscing a pain no one finds ideal.
Your appearance someone might appreciate.
But your conversation with excuses made...
Has long been outdated.
And it is too late to appease with trite apologies.
Your enlightenment that has awakened you,
To the feelings of others you had abused...
Is good for 'your' experience to process and digest.
But that painful healing that took place,
With a patience someone left alone to manifest...
Without your heartfelt confession to put at rest,
Has occurred with the grace only received from God.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Long Rusted In Shifted Dust
Once one stops!
A beginning that had started...
For them comes to an end.
Although not official,
There is something about a lifelessness...
That becomes wasted on debate.
As the advancing of Sunset,
On them dims.
And yet,
Those appearing to be lifeless...
Seem to be all over the place,
Taking up space.
With activities insignificant.
But to what degree of insignificance?
This delays...
A validation to be confirmed.
And...
Observed to be wasting debates,
As time most valued...
Slips from them quickly.
While they remain in the process...
Of procrastinating efficient and effectively.
Although not official,
There is something about a lifelessness...
That becomes wasted on debate.
'Can we move on from this agenda.
To prioritize the last agenda...
That upheld the one prior to that?
Facts are facts.
And rest assured...
Progress,
As 'we' know it...
IS being made! '
And too late it becomes,
For the ones to get things done.
When a time that is perceived is kept,
To be borrowed and used at one's discretion.
With life's lessons that many come to learn,
Dismissed by those...
Who have chosen to invoke,
A reviewing of a point of view...
Long rusted in shifted dust!
And from a nonexistence...
The winds of time has blown away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quick
Quick to dismiss,
That which is misunderstood.
And quick to do this often.
Because one can and could.
Quick to define something wrong.
Quick to complain about it,
All day long.
Quick to sit to nitpick and pull apart.
As if this quickness was intended from the start.
Quick to resist a comprehension that exist.
Quick to allow a temper tantrum fit.
Quick to whip up excuses...
And split to disappear.
Quick to discover the nearest exit!
That's what troublemakers do...
When they stir up others in raging fits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Has Not Been Your Objective
I will not slip into wickedness,
Because that is what you wish.
Nor will I pray to be forgiven of sins.
Or temptations you have teased me with.
I am not the one,
To be conditioned how to live.
With your beliefs thrown upon me,
To keep me feeling of myself as negative.
This process you have chosen,
To diminish my identity.
Will never sit well...
With contradictions you uphold.
And do not dispel.
But choose to dangle in front of me,
As a process of an equality.
And to find within restrictions,
A limitation to place my need to be me...
Will never satisfy an acceptance of a life,
That is mine!
With a pride and dignity I carry inside.
With a presence I do not seek for you to define.
To you I do not owe an existence,
By which I will sit in a wickedness...
Inflicted by your wishes,
To teach as lessons preached.
In sermons from pulpits to have me reach...
For wings in the beyond.
While you use my ignorance,
To leech from me my freedom?
In a continued display that maintains disrespect.
And you want me to believe,
This is all I can expect?
If ever you see me on my knees...
Not a vision of you do I have,
Coming to my aid with aims to please.
And blessings I have received from God,
Has taught me the clarity of that!
You are not the creator of my breath.
Or separate dreams kept,
To fulfill you can meet to satisfy or have met.
And I have known that has not been your objective!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Based Upon Materialistic Concepts
I can not call my breathing a hobby.
Nor do I relate,
To those who associate creativity...
To a dollar bill.
And there are many like that.
Attached to things.
Disconnected spiritually...
To any talents or gifts,
To them God brings!
When asked how much I 'make'...
I get irate with folks like that.
And those who say they have no time to create...
I know right away,
With them I do not relate.
And those who say they have faith in God...
To only admit,
They do not accept God given talents,
Are their main jobs.
I have limited patience.
Knowing from them,
I can only expect a production of excuses.
Based upon materialistic concepts.
And as I age...
From folks like this,
I wish to keep my distance.
And God kept pleased!
Since He is the only One,
To know where I come from.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Patience
Wait for thy day, hour, opportunity;
Things don’t happen always as per scheduled;
Patience’s, a magical ability;
Than when hot, a man can do more when cooled.
Patience pays the user rich dividends!
The more one waits, the more will be returns;
The cracks in mind of revenge, patience mends;
Reward is sure before they take thine urns.
Wait on and on but seize thy golden chance,
That seldom knocks doors of a waiting heart;
Patience is asset when you time your dance;
If ill-chosen, it capsizes life’s cart.
Remarkable is Patience in man’s craft,
That works wonders, tho’ late in every art.
poem by John Celes
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With A Wishing Of Their Ickiness To Stick
Someone else's troubles aren't that easy to leave.
Especially the ones who come sharing them with ease.
And that one analytical chosing to keep politically correct,
By avoiding those who quickly leap...
On a peace they keep to be kept,
Seem to be directly chosen to be next...
For an elimination of patience.
And an effective tearing down of a peace wished to protect.
There seems always an excuse made,
To dump disrespect...
On those who have earned their peace to keep.
And a happiness one has been blessed to have met.
Even friends, foes and those people that don't know,
Seem to do this in a heartbeat.
With no regard as they break down the walls,
Of that which one guards...
When knowing not to answer certain telephone calls.
People know just who to pest...
With a pestering done to another's quietness.
There seems always an excuse made,
To dump disrespect...
On those who have earned their peace to keep.
And with a wishing of their ickiness to stick has been done,
Those folks don't seem to stay too long after!
They seem to do their icky sticking doing quick,
To then get up and run!
This they do with a dumping done.
People seem to do their icky sticking doing quick.
Then after their performance made...
Without apology,
They get up and run...
As if to gloat with pride by the act of doing it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Disrespect Can Not Be Erased
If one needs to ask...
If their actions done,
Has offended someone.
What would they comprehend,
If an inability to acknowledge...
A deed that has gone into effective mode,
Is inappropriate?
That is comparable,
To someone consistently late for anything.
And although alibis and excuses are made...
The disrespect can not be erased.
It escalates until an irritation building fades away,
Everything heard coming out of an empty head.
What more can be said?
One can not use a thumb-tack,
To affix a picture to a steel wall.
No matter how many words that picture may paint,
To deliver a message to be digested.
It is best not to try to over-simplify,
What is never going to be understood!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Through An Osmosisness
Unconscious assimilation,
To seduce one into conversation?
Perhaps.
But there are some with realities,
Who are distorted by facts.
And few comprehend that,
When they allow...
The comfort of their delusions,
To sit back and relax.
I have earned the right to express my identity,
With much flair if I dared.
From dawn 'til noon until midnight.
And doing it aware that I have not a care.
And if anyone expresses I do this and declare,
My arrogance to be unbearable.
And a dignity I pride...
Begins to choke with a coolness I carry.
As if I owned the air!
So be it!
If I flaunt a bit of obnoxiousness.
I've earned all of it.
The identity I pride with the dignity I don't hide.
I am not here to defend every step I've taken.
Nor those experiences life to me has personally given.
'Oh!
I can understand how you feel! '
Is that right?
What part of my life have you lived that delights?
And what hour of which day...
Have you said to yourself,
'Ignore what others say.
Keep your faith it will be okay! '
'Well...
I don't have to go through that process,
To understand what others go through! '
Hmmm.
I see.
So you're one of those folks who live vicariously?
Through an osmosisness done.
And challenging all obstacles that come?
'Well...
I don't have to go through that process,
To understand what others go through! '
Hmmm.
I see.
So you're one of those folks who live vicariously?
Through an osmosisness done.
And challenging all obstacles that come?
'Well,
I don't have to...
Forget it.'
That just expressed,
I can understand and accept.
As from you confessed.
There is no need to further address,
Your comprehension to suggest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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May Initially Hurt From The Dirt Dispersed
Once a mistreatment
Of trust has been discovered done
That's it!
All the drama in the world displayed
Is not going to restore one's faith
In that which has been mentally used to abuse
Apologies given with the asking of forgiveness
Is something one wishes when caught
That's it!
And that's all that that is
Like a roach stunned when caught
By the instant glaring of unexpected light
Apologies snapped together quickly
Rarely can be associated with sincerity
Apologies snapped together quickly
Is a quick way to remove one's burden
From a feeling of guilt
What else can it be?
An invitation to have icecream and cookies?
This is doubtful
Suspicious feelings felt
Don't overnight fade away
In fact
One's decision to sever all ties
From someone like this that lies
May initially hurt from the dirt dispersed
But, The benefit of having peace of mind
Is worth any looks from deceivers
One's willingness to be empathetic may get
And the getting rid of headaches
The moment they appear
Is therapeutic
There is nothing like submitting totally to truth
With the letting of the rest of that nonsense go
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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