En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Eventually They Discovered Him To Be Their Teacher

Actively and from behind the scenes,
There were those who took it upon themselves...
To ensure his deeds he wished to see accomplished,
Were minimized.
And to their surprise attempts made to deny him,
Did not make a difference in his outward appearance.
And, in fact, he seemed happier than he had ever been.

And when it was revealed to them his sacrifices made,
With an exhausting of himself and unafraid...
By putting his neck on the line like no one else,
They then began to accuse him again to charade...
His expressing of a concern.
Or that he showed outwardly he had learned,
Any lessons at all they thought they were teaching him.

Eventually they discovered him to be 'their' teacher.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach

When your child was born
You might have learned certain lessons
As he or she was growing
The child would have been
Teaching lessons
Which you were not learning
From anywhere else
You would have found the lessons
Tough and difficult to absorb
As basics and fundamentals
Language used by the faculty
Methodology of teaching
Were quite different
Most of the time unstructured
Unmindful of your moods
The teacher would have kept you
Loaded with lessons difficult to decipher
The classes were far unique and
Very specially different
From any of the formal institution
Which were preparing you
For making a life
The lessons here aimed at
Making you live fully alive and aware of
Absolute realities
You would agree
Learning these never made you tired
And you were enthusiastically looking for
New lessons to come up
By the time
Your child has grown up
And stopped teaching you any further
Your grand child arrives
Now the lessons turn tougher still
Despite all the experiences in life and living
Your learning is quite difficult now
The teacher is in a great hurry
And often keeps changing
The course of lessons
You find new reasons
For things happening around
And you see yourself
In new enthusiasm
Which you feel will help you live
Longer still
With enough energy, strength and skill
In spite of the fact that
Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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How We Learned Our Lessons

Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.

And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.

Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.

And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.

And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!

They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.

Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.

Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.

'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
Our Parents.

~lsp~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Has Been Revealed

What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with eyes tightly closed...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with an upturned nose...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with pretensions,
Left to charade.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with the cool-aid made...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with debates...
Created for more time to waste.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even those who protest,
Unaccepting with wishes to reject!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even the message,
And the messenger to detest!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To my teacher...

Oh my teacher...
let me praise you,
for you sprouted me out,
from a darkened life.

Oh my teacher...
show me -
your magical spirit..
by which you made-
the darkness to light.

oh my teacher...
let me thank you...
for which you, quenched my thirst-
for knowledge.

My teacher...,
thank you...
for you took out-
words from my throat-
and you showed me to-
make finest garland,
by those words...

My teacher...
you showed me,
the stars....
pointing up the sky..,
saying 'its stars...-
..shining stars...
..glittering..., twinkling...'

My teacher...
it's because of you,
i loved butterflies...,
and green grasshoppers..!
and it's because of you..
that i have,
dreams; unending.

My teacher..
i am always
indebted....for your deeds..
for the lifeline..
which you -
in my forehead!

My teacher....,
ne'er let your lamp-
to be gone into darkness.

My teacher...
this is for you...
dedicated with..,
sincere respect.

poem by Fayeda Vanimel
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Impressed By Those I Have Not Met

Why should I continue to ignore myself,
To value the opinions of others?
I use to do that and I stayed depressed.
If it appears I am selfish and self centered,
Perhaps I am deserving of my selfishness.
Maybe I earned it!

Others will not admit my sacrifices.
And I don't wear my heart on my sleeve,
For anyone to know to the degree I've sacrificed.
Others have used other tricks and devices,
To maneuver themselves into the spotlight.
One that is believed I seek and need.

They want to take credit for the steps I made.
Those who make claims to know me and don't.
While making attempts to convince themselves,
And others like them...
I had nothing to do with something I've been doing,
All of my life.
And that is to write!

To do it to impress others,
I have never thought about doing.
But I will admit I am impressed by those I have not met,
Who express they can 'feel' me!
While those who make claims they know where I'm coming from,
Judge on my appearance and the way that I am dressed.
And yet have not a clue as to what it is I do,
To get what it is I do done to make a difference for someone.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enjoy Every Moment Of It

You picked with me a fight.
You thought would be easy for you to win.
Was it my appearance,
Or the sound of my voice?
Or was it my occupation...
My selection of choice.

Whatever made you decide,
To pick with me this fight.
I'm going to ensure you enjoy every moment of it.
And when I get through with you,
Guess which one of us will be sleeping peacefully,
At night?
I'll give you a hint...
It will not be you.

You've chosen just what I like to do,
With fools using unconsciousness...
As a means to prove their ignorance!
Since I like to teach and leave lessons learned!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I dare you Adult content

I can recall quite vividly
the day I solved the mystery.
How girls and boys were different
. We were so young and innocent.

Our youthful curiosity
was satisfied quite easily.
She showed me hers. I showed her mine
Noting the different design.

We were too young and innocent
to understand quite what it meant.
Why she was different from me
it made no sense that we could see.

Until later years when we
were fast approaching puberty
Our bodies underwent great change
as hormones tried to rearrange

and reinforce the difference
The things began to make more sense.
We’d left our childhood days behind
and we were struggling to find.

A new sense of identity
which would provide stability
Though we were hovering in between
what we were now and what we’d been.

We settled down eventually
and we were ready physically
To fall in with Dame Nature’s plan
Unaltered since the world began.

I must confess when first I tried
it left us both unsatisfied
I was too quick she was too slow
there was so much we didn’t know.

Practice makes perfect so they say
and so we practiced every day
and learned to bless the difference.
We realised it made good sense.

That boys and girls were different
If this was sin I won’t repent.
Although the priesthood say I must
It was not simply down to lust.

To us it was a learning curve
apprenticeship we had to serve.
I still recall it vividly
a not too painful memory.

4-Apr-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Exhausting Promises Meant to Keep

Is there anyone who lives,
Without expressing some regret?
Something done one wishes to forget?
Perhaps making a remark,
That was left to spark an animosity.
One even forgiveness given,
The mind can not leave alone.
Or remove completely,
From our doorsteps.
To find us inside comforted in total rest.

Is there anyone who lives,
Without expressing some remorse?
A wish a decision made had taken another course?
Like a marriage that ends in divorce?
Or a relationship desired...
That has not replaced,
The emotional investment paid for the cost...
Of a loss reviewed as time spent and wasted.

And memories kept have a way of replaying,
Every detail of each moment embossed with highlights!
Exhausting promises meant to keep,
To be freed of indecision.
When someone else one meets,
Finds us against our wishes...
As the repeating of the same steps,
Creep to leak unresolved issues.

Saying once again...
To a valued peace of mind.
That if that 'next' time should come...
We...
By then,
Will have overcomed and corrected an oversight!

Yet...
Another flaw neglected,
Has a way of surfacing.
To be heard from departing lips...
In daydreams wished to once lick with kisses,
Now sickens with the thought of it!

Again,
Where should these lessons learned,
Be kept to stay fresh in our minds?
Or should one desiring to dance with romance...
Again,
Just sit and observe?
And not rush to be partnered.
Again!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Basic Am I

So basic am I,
My blemishes and flaws...
Have a personality of their own.
They have no fear to appear publicly.
In fact...
When I had made attempts to hide them,
I began to hear rumors...
I was trying to find a reason,
To escape from my accomplishments...
Only a few had discovered.
And no one 'then' had believed,
I was seriously seeking to achieve anything.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Many Mistakes By Them Were Made

Now they want to say,
Many mistakes by them were made.
As if a stumbling along the way,
Did not scream to get their attention.

And those who were there to prevent their despair,
Are now solicited for their suggestions to mention.
But that energy dismissed,
No longer lingers in the air from lips who cared.

Many mistakes by them were made.
And today they make attempts to correct their own nonsense,
But aren't lessons learned when the choice is made to listen?
And not when one decides a time lost can be revived.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Takes An Absence

It takes an absence felt,
For many people to realize...
What and who in their lives,
Had provided them with a significance.

It takes an absence for an awakening to occur,
To stir up priorities with a reviewing...
Of what had topped their most wished list.
With a doing when one finally gets around to it.

It takes an absence missed with a remorse that sits,
For the ones who had been taken for granted...
Now 'suddenly' appreciated for their contributions made.
Those who never mentioned,
Requests to receive an attention to them given.

And it takes an absence with attempts to replace,
A void that appears one no longer can face...
To fill a vacuum that had been once shared and enjoyed,
By those who frequently were thought to have annoyed.

Yes an absence teaches those lessons learned,
Thought by some to be preached when comments made...
Were believed to leave some ears to burn.
To remind the receiver what they have sometimes was given,
And not by them earned as believed.

It takes an absence missed when reminiscing...
Those perceived could be easily dismissed.
And absences that are often missed,
Are those wished could be returned with more thoughtfulness!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The More We Try

The more we try
Sung by - kenny loggins -
Some lessons are forever
Never need to change
Write and the word is written
Then we turn the page
But some lessons take forever
Time and time again
Caught in a battle that you cant surrender
And can never win
You tried to make me the boy of your dreams
The ones that you never could find
You thought you saw your face in mine
The more we try, the more we just get lonely
Though youve shown me how
The things you say are true
The lesson learned
Is no concern
If you dont even know me
To need love is all I really learned from you
The more we try, the more we just get lonely
Though youve shown me how
The things you say are true
The lessons learned
Are no concern
Cause you dont even know me
Sure youve done what you can do
But when all our time is through
To be loved is all I ever needed of you

song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher Of Lessons

Shouldn't someone expect,
A life of regretting a planting of misdeeds.
After they have discovered,
The one person they decided to pick on...
Was not the person they thought.
But was a lover of playing cat and mouse.

And that one person they decided to pick on...
Decided not to be the turn the other cheek,
Forgiving kind.
Oh no.
This one decided it was time to teach a mind.

And had in fact been a teacher of lessons.
With a knack of customizing lesson plans.
Suitable to be understood,
As to 'who' one should have left alone.
To make it clear it is best not to judge a book,
By its cover for effective results to get.
Especially if one is not familiar with the contents.

Shouldn't someone expect,
A life of regretting...
After they have discovered,
The one person they decided to pick on...
Has long been a master of human interaction.

And...
Had in fact,
Been a teacher of lessons.
With a knack of customizing lesson plans.
Some less painful to accept when delivered direct,
Than those taught unexpectedly to leave the student...
Frrling unsure what test is coming next.

Why do some people pick those to be subjected,
They believe to them will be easy to shame...
With a branding of a quick defamation.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For The Purposes Of Making Claims

To take a piece and rave about its taste,
While disparaging the creator...
After learning who it was,
Who spent the time in its delivery.
Only validates,
When something delicious is nibbled...
Some will enjoy it for what it is.
And will become interested,
As to 'who' whipped together the flavor.
Seeking an opportunity to meet and greet.

However...
There will always be that 'one' amongst them all,
Who will convince anyone who listens...
They too should become suspicious,
When someone does something so well,
There has to be another motivation...
Needing further investigation.
Because there just has to be much more,
Than just one's experience...
And love that assists one to excel.
Especially when something done is accomplished,
With such tireless effort.
Someone like this needs an instigated probing.

'Have you tasted this?
It is wonderful.'

~I know.
I enjoyed it much better before I discovered,
Who made it.
Aren't you the least bit curious as to 'how' this was done? ~

'No!
If it's to be enjoyed,
Why should I be the one to make attempts to destroy it? '

~Well...
Some of US like to get to the bottom of things.~

'For what purpose?
To re-create the flavor for the purpose of making claims? '

'Not necessarily.
Just to ensure certain procedures were accurately followed.'

~Oh!
I hadn't thought about that.
You do have a point.
Let me recommend that to the others.~

'By all means.
You do that.
And...
If you have the time,
I'd like to have another piece.'

~Sure.
Me too! ~

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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T’was the Week after Christmas Break a parody of T'was the night Before Christmas

T’was the week after Christmas break,
And all through the school
The students were restless
For lessons poured out like and overflowing pool

Though most were quite dreary,
Some still touched their work
While visions of summer
Came around with a quirk

Out in the streets
A few were ditching
And hoping that ideas
The teachers would stop pitching

In my own class
I had been thinking
And trying not to smell
The garbage that was stinking

My classmates were sleeping
While the teacher was teaching
And students in class
Were passing notes that were beseeching

I flipped through a book
Wondering what it would take
To get my teacher
To just take a break

I stared at my paper
But in thought I was distracted
As my teacher wrote notes
My head seemed compacted

Some candy might assist
I thought with a smile
But as I began to eat
It became a trial

I’d completely considered
To take a nap
But the teachers voice
Sounded like a bad rap

When out of nowhere
The class got quiet
And when I looked
Captain Know it all had started a riot

His appearance quite shabby
And I hated his beard
As he glanced at me
He said something weird

“What kind of child
Would not make a complaint
When class is just
A place of restraint? ”

“On History! On Science!
On wonderful math
On good behavior
And a great career path”

His message said
He rolled out of the room
But we heard him complain
When he was given a broom

Your teacher has bored you
So try to stay awake
Happy week after break to all
And to all, a good wake

poem by Krazy Rae
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Never Given A Chance To Happen

It would have made a difference,
If those experienced and willing...
To volunteer their time,
To secure the cementing of foundations...
Were regarded as friends.
And not threats to suspect of wanting,
To flaunt special attention given.

It would have made a difference,
If those who had nothing...
Accepted someone with something to give,
As a benefit to the environment.
With an advantage for all.
Instead of someone to ignore...
Defaming with a smearing campaign,
In a hope to see them fall.

It would have made a difference,
To the ones who now...
Have surrounded themselves,
In surmounting conflicts...
Creating their mental and physical ailments.

It would have made a difference,
If mindsets were connected...
To a discipline respected.
It would have made a difference,
But that difference...
Was never given a chance to happen.

It would have made a difference,
If opportunities presented...
Were recognized.

It would have made the difference!
But it didn't!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Scars May Fade

With an eye to the future, I must accept my past;
Lessons learned tragically will ensure they last,
That I may never forget what now is most prescient;
Though scars may fade, my anguish remains, extant
In a far disparate form than it once had;
Though, in the future, where I was once sad,
I shall surely brim over with jollity-
Yet shan't allow forget of this egregious inequality
That has so permanently altered my world;
As though into the path of a speeding freight train, I was hurled,
Without concern for my right to protection-
So, no, I shall not forget, e'en if correction
Is made, so as to make for proper redress;
This is something that my mind shall always address!

-Maurice Harris,24 May 2011

poem by Maurice Harris
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If one only wished to be happy, this could be easily accomplished; but we wish to be happier that other people, and this is always difficult, for we believe others to be happier than they are.

quote by Montesquieu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ethelred

Ethelred had toasted bread
Each night before he went to bed.
And every day when he got up
Hot Chocolate filled his morning cup.
Then before he went to School
A Bacon Sandwich was the rule.

His Mother made his lunch each day
Which took about an hour I'd say.
Two Sausage Rolls and three Pork Pies
Four bags of Crisps as a surprise.
Some Sandwiches of Roasted Lamb
A fresh baked Quiche of Cheese and Ham.
Then for Dessert a Chocolate Cake
With Clotted Cream she'd always make.

His School was forty yards away
A healthy walk you just might say.
But Ethelred would always stop
At McIntyre's his favorite shop.
Some Sherbet Lemons or a Dip
Into his School Bag he would slip.
Then he would saunter on his way
Prepared to face another day.

At School he'd join his Classroom line
In readiness to start at nine.
His Mum had written him a note
And placed it in his Overcoat.
It asked his Teacher to refrain
From making him do 'Games' again.
'Ethelred's not well' it said
'Could he do Cookery instead? '.

His Teacher thought that it was wise
In view of his enormous size.
That Ethelred should still take part
In exercise to help his heart.
They set off for the Football Field
Where very soon it was revealed
That Ethelred would still not play
He'd left his kit at home today.

His Teacher would not be gainsaid
Nor change the plans that he had made.
Ethelred was much too fat
And needed help to alter that.
So, off he hauled him to the Gym
With clear intent, to make him slim.
He'd start him on the Vaulting Horse
Which he would reinforce, of course.

Young Ethelred looked on, bemused
His Mother wouldn't be amused
At Teacher's plans to make him fit
In fact, she wouldn't hear of it.
He needed building up, she thought
Not turn into the skinny sort
Who suffered from perrenial ills
And spent their lives digesting pills.

But Ethelred felt that he should
Obey the Teacher if he could.
So even though he had no kit
Prepared himself to go for it.
He removed his shoes and socks
And headed for the vaulting box.
Determinedly he built up speed
Forgetting all about the need
To leave the ground and make a vault
A pretty catastrophic fault!
He hit the box with dreadful force
Destroying it, at once, of course.
But even then he did not stop
He hit the wall...And then went POP! !

And so, a word now, to the wise;
DO NOT MIX FOOD AND EXERCISE! ! ! ! ! ! !
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

poem by Owain Glyn
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