Doing As They Chose To Do
With the last finger raised,
Outstreched and pointed...
To someone else to accuse,
For problems existing.
Prehaps then and only then,
Will it become fact...
That,
All who were taught to point their fingers...
At someone else,
Were also shown how best to disrespect themselves.
Until no one is left to care who did what and why,
To who.
Because they all had excuses to do what they did,
With a doing as they chose to do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You've Allowed This To Happen
We teach.
They learn.
And they pass on these lessons taught.
We cry.
We sigh.
And our behavior we deny.
Hiding from that,
We attract to seek...
Until it is caught.
And nothing we do is comprehended.
Or pretend what it is begins to offend.
Nothing we do,
Seems to us enough to defend.
We point our fingers.
And over again accuse them.
The 'others'
For our negligence,
And lack of discipline.
Until everyone is blinded,
To a hindsight that runs into a brick wall.
With graffiti written tall that appalls...
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
And yet this message,
Is ignored by all.
We teach.
They learn.
And they pass on these lessons taught.
We cry.
We sigh.
And our behavior we deny.
Hiding from that,
We sought and attracted.
Reacting as if,
We did not crave the satisfaction.
We point our fingers.
And over again accuse them...
The 'others'
For our negligence,
And lack of discipline.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
And that message is whitewashed.
As if nothing on the wall,
Had been written at all.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN...
From Sunrise to nightfall.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With My Finger Up And Raised
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of false faces that come.
Tired of those fixed smiles done.
Tired of the running by some...
Of those who say they care!
But not one woe I will do!
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
But not a single woe I will do.
And....
Not a woe I will do will prove...
With my finger up and raised!
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
But not a single woe I will do.
And....
Not a woe I will do will prove.
Or a showing I have had it,
With attitude.
And my finger up and raised!
But not a single woe I will do.
No.
Not a woe I will do will prove...
Or a showing I have had it,
With attitude.
And my finger up and raised!
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Want To Be Like You
You make me want to be like You
You've shown me how to love
You've given me Your power
That comes from high above
You make this life look different
You make my dreams come true
If there's anyone I want to be like
I want to be like you
You've taught me perseverance
You've shown me how to care
Even though I cannot see You
I always know You're there
For when I’m feeling weary
And when I’m feeling blue
You remind me of how You love me
I want to be like You
You've given my life meaning
You fill my heart with hope
You make my problems trivial
You’ve taught me how to cope
I know I am not perfect
But You made my heart feel new
You paid the prices for my debts
I want to be like You
I’ve learned when things get difficult
When I’m sinking in the sand
You’re always there to pick me up
You’ve always got my hand
For you’re the rock I stand on
And from Your soil I grew
You showed me grace and mercy
I want to be like You
You fill me with Your presence
You’ve shown me how to care
You make our world a better place
You’re the answer to my prayer
Now everything I think of
And everything I do
I picture you up on the cross
I want to be like You
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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No Accuse
There is no accuse for a man to hit a woman.
He may say that how he was raised.
Or he may say it is the pressure of your financial situation.
But neither one of these reasons are an accuse.
He may even have you thinking it is your fault.
By saying it is your lack of support or the tone in which you talk.
Still no accuse.
Believe it or not he may even tell you it is because he loves you too much.
Well ladies, when a man love you his touch should be as gentle as a summer breeze not a fist.
Love is no accuse.
The ring and finger
the finger seems a little relieved
the pudgy finger can now breathe at ease
it was bound by an unending ring
decayed was the skin beneath.
years have left a paler skin
where the ring held its unending agony
while the fingers have grown
dark, ugly and chubby.
it had seen better days
when they fit more comfortably
when moments were not measured by the watch
or its worth in worthless pennies
so the eternal question is raised
the ring or the finger to blame
why did the finger grow so fat
why has the ring tried not to change?
poem by Kiran Prasad
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With A Minimal Of Effort To Convince
Isn't it easier to accuse another,
With the finding of excuses done...
For that which we do to initiate,
Than it is to step forward...
Without the presence of a safety net.
Or running behind those we 'contaminate'...
Who are willing to defend us and protect.
Isn't it easier to accuse anyone for that matter,
With a making up of excuses done on a daily basis...
For what it is we do that we implement consciously,
As long as we know...
We can fool anyone to buy anything,
From us we bring to them to sell...
With a minimal of effort to convince we are innocent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jena 6 Mix
Well...
Let's see!
Some nooses were hung from a tree.
And folks who themselves,
Are constantly refusing to accept reality...
See 'this' as racist? That could be!
While they accept hypocrisies in their own cities!
And they believe they are blessed,
To leave these scenes behind unaddressed?
Professing 'Christians' marching in a 'collective' protest!
Well...
Let's see!
They speak of what should be a democracy!
And they travel for miles to display a unity?
But they themselves disrespect with deeds.
Children raised to reflect what they've been taught...
Demonstrate what an entire thoughtlessness has brought!
And an intolerance that is shown and overblown...
Becomes transfixed by a Jena 6 mix!
That still leaves an ignorance left,
In their own backyards unfixed and condoned!
Shouldn't they protest with such conviction...
Those messes unshown,
Left to sit back in their own homes.
And virtually swept under the 'rug' and known?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Practicing The Pointing Of Aging Fingers
All it had to take,
Was the admission of one's mistakes.
With the facing of one's wrongs.
To eliminate.
To have them then forgiven.
The dance with procrastination,
Became stronger when prolonged.
And for those who chose to remain hidden,
Behind created accusations unlimited...
A discovery found has occurred.
There were no escapes routes to warn,
Or printed on walls surrounding dead ends.
And...
Remembered loud voices exclaiming,
'I Told You So! '
Hand ended long ago.
Unfamiliar but too common,
Is 'that' reality one accepts...
That exhausts every delusion one has used,
To make more excuses.
To finally be left alone,
Practicing the pointing of aging fingers.
To leave those duped and once supportive,
Feeling ashamed...
They were picked and baited to believe false claims.
As the ones victimized by deceiving eyes,
Of expressed innocence used to lure others...
To navigate misdeeds done,
Have never shown themselves affected...
By the telling of lies directed to defame them.
In fact...
Such character assassinations,
Seem to have been to their benefit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One-Finger Typist (Fun Poem 122)
I used to be a one-finger typist
and as the one finger wore down,
I discovered how to use two.
Finding that easy to score
and with the added bonus
of being able to play
chopsticks on the piano as well,
I decided to add a little bonus
and increased my fingers to three
and then on to four.
All on the same hand, I might add.
One day my left hand
feeling left in the lurch
decided it was going to join in
and my fingers typing doubled
to the number eight.
The thumbs then got jealous
and came into play.
Now both hands of fingers and thumbs
dance merrily across the keys,
but there I have a problem,
as they all want to press a key simultaneously.
Slowly words with three or four letters
were getting left behind
and I could only type words
with eight letters with two hyphens in between.
Confused? I was as well
as everything I typed became double hyphenated
and made no sense at all.
In desperation and frustration,
I reverted to being a one-finger typist
and now you know the story of my plight.
As for the other fingers,
well they got a new position
of multi-tasking elsewhere.
poem by David Harris
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I'm Different
I was made different! ! ! ! ! And Im not a shame to be. I don't fit in categories, or man made groups, just to please the empty you. I was made to take over even If you don't understand but in thee in YoU WILL see whats in me.
I refuse to be define by any woman, or man, who want to point the finger, but learn that three is pointed back at the person who pointed the one at me. I was made different! ! ! ! !
poem by Clarence Williams
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Anyone Will Do
Anyone will do,
To accuse for their blunders.
Anyone to screw...
Will certainly for them do!
They want to watch me and you,
To select and consider.
But their thoughtless bitterness
Has left them much the fools.
Everything that they touch...
To elevate their lust to heights,
Exposes their incompetence...
And their attraction to decadence,
Stirs a crisis that backbites!
Anyone will do,
To accuse for their blunders.
Anyone to screw...
Will certainly for them do!
Those who chose to follow their lead,
Can not believe they with them today bleed.
And everything about them and their lifestyles too...
Seems to be admittedly being refused.
They have lost a confidence...
With a pride they all pursued!
Everything about them repells as well!
No one leaves it as a secret,
Who and what has created this hell!
Anyone will do,
To accuse for their blunders.
Anyone to screw...
Will certainly for them do!
Anyone...
Except themselves!
And that is the sadness so true.
Themselves they are blinded to see...
As the initiators of their own ignorance,
Hyped with hypocrisies.
And enforcing upon themselves,
Their own tragedies so needlessly!
Anyone will do,
To accuse for their blunders.
Anyone to screw...
Including me,
And you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Getting Down and Funky, Staying Low and Earthy
The first time I made attempts,
To be mature and endure those who weren't.
In my neighborhood,
Of aging children.
My attempts did not work.
In fact they provoked those who chose,
To remain irresponsible.
And had not yet been introduced,
To accountability.
Something they accuse others for not doing.
You know.
Those and them,
Who are suppose to care about us.
More than we care for and about ourselves.
Those conversations are still used to convince,
The many loitering around playgrounds.
Seeking to play their familiar games.
Today with age and maturity experienced.
I come into contact with those refusing to make sense.
Those who believe life is a telling of an endless joke.
And laugh at the keeping of their insecurities hidden,
Behind masks that change with fashionable fads.
And I observe their children who are no longer 'kids'.
Many are limited to an ignorance lived.
And they are raising their offspring to disrespect.
As I witness those of us now elders.
Doing our best to break a sweat,
Getting down and funky.
Staying low and Earthy.
As if this is an investment we hand over to a future.
With expectations that a quality of life diminishing,
Will deliver us to a consciousness to grasp overnight.
There's not enough praying on knees that can be done,
To awaken those with nothing but time and lives to waste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Game Ready Folks
Game ready folks,
Have a ridiculous response...
For every nonsensical mindless thing done,
They do.
As if strategically placed on paths to annoy,
For reasons to test...
Those taking their lives seriously.
If one listens to excuses that the elders make,
One no longer questions why the younger ones...
Disrespect and have no discipline.
Especially if an increase of immaturity,
Is shown to be expressed by those decades older...
Than elemenatry school aged children.
But a fool kept in practice never seems to wisen.
And the excuses used...
Prove,
One strapped with an enforced handicap...
Will always seek assistance from others,
To undermine another with their charm.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Easily Giving
I am determined,
To feel and receive...
An awarded love.
Someone that discovers my value,
And treasures me as their prize.
No one can accuse me of not being devoted.
No one can accuse me of unfaithfulness.
And I've been in a few relationships.
Easily giving my loyalty.
And to be dismissed by this.
Wishing it was known,
The depth of feelings I have shown.
I am determined,
To feel and receive...
An awarded love.
Someone that discovers my value,
And treasures me as their prize.
And I don't think of time,
That seems to tick by me quick.
Or the wish that I have,
To experience the love I wish and know can exist.
No one can accuse me of not being devoted.
No one can accuse me of unfaithfulness.
I have shown this...
Over and over again.
But maybe in my youth...
My quickness to share,
Was not for others...
Completely there to be aware.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Angst Aint What It Use To Be
Every conceivable trick in the book they could use,
Even to amaze a professional magician...
Those seeking attention had done to abuse,
Others who are still innocent with precise deception.
To depict anyone they chose to choose,
As an enemy to successfully accuse.
'How can people like them,
Be defended?
Where does a defense begin...
When their actions reflect,
All lessons taught we ourselves respect.
Without a complete dissecting...
Of a consciousness in need of a thorough process,
We can no longer neglect.'
And then one day,
Misdeeds backfire to expose evil ways.
Face to mirrored face.
With no explanation they could create.
A self examination...
Has never been raised in any debate.
Isolated hatred has been their fate.
In continued divisions...
They have kept separated.
Yet...
With angst in their minds,
They belabor to define their grief.
Proving that angst aint what it use to be...
To just leave behind so easily.
As denials increase...
To keep reality deluded.
And realities deluded always betray.
'Stop pointing your finger at me.
I have a college degree.
I'm not crazy.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If you point one accusing finger at others, three fingers will point at you.
The point is to solve problems, not point fingers.
quote by Jane Harman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Here to Play The Dozen's
Hello?
Is there a light on in your attic?
Obviously not.
Unfortunately,
There is nothing dimming at all in your head.
At least give me eye contact,
So I feel as if something said is being heard,
And shared.
You ignoring me,
Is a favor done you wont believe.
I don't have to put up with your ignorance.
Or tolerate disrespect from no one.
In fact,
Give me more distance.
I live in this community.
And I am familiar with the neighborhood.
What happens here and what folks do to themselves,
May be entertaining to you.
And I could care less if you disagree with me.
But you folks have been programmed,
To invite your own unexpected deaths.
I have integrity and some dignity left,
That has of yet been taken.
And I have identity.
Of that you have none.
My comprehending of that has long been numbed.
To the point it is no longer heartbreaking.
Nor am I one to fake unity!
It aint happenin'.
And if it is I'd like to know where?
But let me say this...
To get this over with quick.
You can act as if I am invisible,
If that helps you pretend I do not exist.
However...
Do not 'think' I have to put up with your 'stupidity'
Because others get a kick out of it!
I am not into self destruction.
Or folks who make excuses to self abuse themselves.
And I know you don't understand this,
Because your mama didn't teach you.
And your father refuses to be a man.
And I know you don't understand 'that'.
Nor am I here to play the 'dozen's with you.
Truth I do not play with!
Too many of you have been pitched the taste for truth.
But you'd rather do a genocide on yourselves,
Better than 'the man' can!
And your ignorance has been addicted to keep that focused.
But nothing done I do is a mirage.
I'm here to snap your ass awake.
Don't get that messed up with your sugared cookies.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When you point your finger at someone, look where the other fingers point.
Last Caress
Wish I may
Wish I might
Have this wish tonight
Are you satisfied?
Dig for gold
Dig for fame
You dig to make your name
Are you pacified?
All the wants you waste
All the things you've chased
And it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger
But there's no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play thing king
But the castle crumbled
And you've left with just a name
Where's your crown?
King nothing
Hard and cold
Bought and sold
A heart hard as gold
Are you satisfied
Wish I may
Wish I might
You wish your life away
Are you pacified
All the wants you waste
All the things you've chased
And it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger
But there's no one around
Where's your crown?
King nothing
I wish I may
I wish I might
Have this wish tonight
I want the star
I want it now
I want it all and I don't care how
Careful what you wish
Careful what you say
Careful what you wish
You may regret it
Careful what you wish
You just might get it
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger
But there's no one around
And it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger
But there's no one around
Where's your crown?
King nothing
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle crumbled
And you've left with just a name
Off to never never land
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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