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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Related quotes
Nothing Is More Bitter
Nothing is more bitter,
Than the taste of one's actions regretted.
Even though a forgiveness may be expressed,
By those whose lives had been affected.
There is nothing like the guilt,
An unconscious mind awakened...
Finds!
And discovers,
It is not an easy task to shake or break away,
From what has been advocated...
And harsely displayed in those misdeeds done,
From one's past.
Upon someone undeserving.
Especially when God selects,
The appropriate punishment!
It seems as though He is not totally,
Forgetful.
Even 'if' one has found a 'rebirth'
In the singing of His praises.
There still will be lessons...
He wishes to insure are completely learned.
And meets the approval of those mistreated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Have Learned To Do Something New
You have made promises upon promises.
And since you have been gone,
Those disparities you left us to face...
Have been attempted to be corrected,
By someone who has replaced you.
And this direction taken is what you hate.
NOW...
You appear again with the same promises to make,
With a tailored suit that has been updated.
But...
How can we tell if your statements made to us,
Are not faked?
'Well...
I do appreciate your honesty.
And let me make this perfectly clear.
The last time I made to you those promises,
I have learned to do something new.'
And please tell us what that is?
What have you learned to do?
'I have learned to speak,
From the other side of my mouth.
And smile at the same time.
I am hoping this is something,
You all will find acceptable!
And if not...
Both sides will contradict the other.
And hopefully with this confusion,
You will forget the importance of your needs.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quick Slate Cleaner
When I announced I didn't want any of it,
All of it became available.
As if a decision I had made,
Could be teased.
And my mind would find fresh pleasures.
When I was there caring...
I cared.
That's why I was there.
Because I cared!
When the purpose of my caring ends...
I don't pretend.
It ends!
And there is no convincing.
I am not one to stand on a fence.
There has been very few times,
I sought and needed assitance...
To make up my mind!
I am not that kind.
When I have love.
It is there and unconditional!
If testing of those conditions begin,
Something I have and give...
Certainly is not being comprehended.
And I am not a good instructor...
When it comes to rules of love,
And interpretations of it!
It diminishes in value.
Especially if what is felt has to be explained!
Even the thought of doing it is useless!
I have become very practical.
If I have lost an investment?
That's what it is...
A lost investment!
Some folks rather gather others,
To become smothered in tears.
As if those actions will erase,
Regrettable decisions.
They don't!
They just prolong them,
For bouts with recycled doubts!
I've learned to be a quick slate cleaner.
Something I feel that comes to a stop.
Comes to a stop!
And I give everything all I've got!
When the purpose of my caring ends...
I don't pretend.
It ends!
I am not in the business of rekindling,
Anything that has fizzled.
When the flame of my heat is turned off...
By someone or something,
Believing it will be easy to have my heart reset?
Forget it.
I wouldn't want to be the one to lose that bet!
There is nothing like lessons learned.
And I am not living my life repeating regrets.
Or satisfy my desires with stagnation!
For some...
That might work!
I'm just not one to argue about it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Was
It was all that had been wanted,
Back then.
When wishes seemed easier to dream,
And to get.
It was all that had been asked for,
With an anticipation for it to arrive.
And when it was delivered,
It came as no surprise.
It was focused with a wish to be wanted.
There was a time many remember lived,
At a much slower pace.
When a time that was,
Didn't seem that far away.
And the confessing of love shared,
Was there to stay.
And when something 'was' loved,
The meaning of it had been meant.
But today what 'was' is easily forgotten,
The moment when something appears...
To be quickly taken by one's theft of it.
'It took years of an emotional investment,
To establish that relationship.
And in seconds someone else,
With looks and promises and nothing more...
Came along to destroy its value.
To replace it with accepted nonsense.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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More Minds Are Needed In the Act of Reaction
Weapons are made to be used.
Just like those of unconscious minds.
Time is not spent in the waste of their creation.
The investment made is too precious to be kept,
Left behind with no purpose meant.
Some say a mind is a terrible thing to waste!
No mind is wasted.
More minds are needed in the act of reaction.
To be used like a weapon with a quick fuse.
And this use has proven to be highly successful!
Less minds are needed to think.
Especially when conflicts are thoughtlessly linked.
And those who are thinkers,
Are seldom seen cheering for their own doom!
Or...
Honorable sacrifice.
To later be labelled as a common hero to forget.
Thinkers,
Although less popular...
Have not become that crazy,
Yet!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As If Affirmations
There are times when they come,
We all find ourselves...
Repeating those needs.
As if afirmations,
With wishes to have them completed...
Before an admiration of patience increases,
To forget what had been wished and wanted...
Had been a priority.
Once stated and done,
Most would leave their wishes alone...
To become fulfilled on their own.
How devoted to understanding can one get?
But there are those like myself,
Who would prefer not to have aged...
To grey too much with steps slower paced,
When those needs finally arrive to be done...
Hoping they are recognized as requests once made,
And who initiated the desire.
'Are you sure you have come to the right door?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Eyes Were On Your Tomatoes
I now am missing kissing.
And that's since I've gotten older...
With time to think of this,
Especially when it's cold outside...
And I'm inside with wishes.
Wanting more to snuggle close.
And I connect that to being older.
Oh how I like to dance.
And when I dance I hear the jokes.
The young folks laugh and the old ones sit.
As I dance on the floor,
Not giving a...
Well,
Not much thought of it!
And when I invite 'anyone',
To do a 'swing' with me...
I refer to the dance.
But there's a hush that is silent.
And the floor is cleared,
Instantly.
'You dance too dirty old man.'
Excuse me?
What on Earth are you thinking about?
I now am missing kissing.
And that's since I've gotten older...
With time to think of this,
Especially when it's cold outside...
And I'm inside with wishes.
Wanting more to snuggle close.
And I connect that to being older.
Even at the grocery store,
I'm careful of the questions I ask.
I try to stay focused...
With other things on my mind.
Are those breasts fresh?
'I beg your pardon? '
Those breasts you've selected,
And packed in your bag.
Those chicken breasts,
Are they fresh?
'Oh?
I suppose they are.
Everything I've got is fresh.'
Well that's a relief.
Do you mind if I touch them?
I haven't seen them look that good,
In quite some time.
'My breasts? '
Oh no, no, no.
I'm sorry.
My eyes were on your tomatoes.
'You don't shop too often do you? '
Not at this time of the day.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Never Too Early or Too Late
It will not matter what time it is.
Or when the Sun rises...
To caress the horizon,
With beaurtiful Sunsets.
As twilight arrives.
Penned fresh thoughts of you,
I am here to do.
With changes that are few...
In memories I keep.
And there has not been one moment,
I have live that you have not been missed.
Reviewed and reminisced,
In my mind with wishes.
It will not matter what time it is.
And never too early or too late.
Your face has a place in my heart always.
Although you may not be here to touch...
You do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No One Can Be Freed Completely
Shifting seasons one lives,
Present with them maladies.
Not often pleasant...
But come to inflict
To sit before they leave.
No one believes,
That a path
Carefully taken,
Has obstacles.
Adopted doubts,
And nonsense philosophies.
Can trap to bite,
Without a peaceful night of sleep.
Some may perceive,
They can breathe...
Free of obstacles.
No cake is baked,
Prepared with trim and icing made.
For taste to sample.
To be 'thee' example!
Wasting one's time,
Making up one's indecisive mind...
May find no satisfaction,
To avoid a reaction!
Shifting seasons one lives,
Present with them maladies.
Not often pleasant...
But come to inflict,
To sit before they leave.
No one can live freed,
Completely...
Of these obstacles!
No one can be freed completely,
Of these obstacles!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Spending Of Their Time
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives.
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
Hopefully,
They will come to realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
No one can be all-knowing,
If one has never been alone.
Or have been on their own...
To know the true meaning of self-evaluation.
Or value emotional devastation.
If one has not,
Opened up that lock.
If no one takes the time to stop,
To take 'inventory' of their stock...
That seems for them to never come,
With a dropping of a blocking...
That stuns and shocks.
They will never know,
How this affects and hurts one so!
Those me-me, I-I activities...
Isolates the mind.
Sickens the body.
And darkens a lost soul.
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives...
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
And...
In time,
When they are left confined...
Behind.
With no one concerned...
What it is in their lives,
Or on their minds.
They will come to learn to yearn!
In the spending of,
Their time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Combustible
Ready and prepared to react,
While diminishing reason to listen...
Presents its own consequences.
And those conditions moving further away,
From common sense.
Those on campaigns to spread negativity...
With hopes to gain and win,
Over some nonsense that had started with them.
Will discover at the end,
No peace of mind comes at all.
With choices made...
Determining to forcifully begin.
They may have solicited advocates for their cause...
But minds quick to form judgements
Are the ones to become sickened,
By participating in any of it!
To produce for another a public fall!
Ready and prepared to react,
While diminishing reason to listen?
One should sit and give this thought.
Time alone can heal all wounds.
But those feelings surfacing to bring harm upon others...
Will delay an affect,
On a mind never again to know the meaning of rest!
And there should be enough evidence around,
In abundance
For anyone to observe.
Inflicting needless pain upon others...
No one lives to deserve!
No one should be served,
Blatant disrespect!
But like all things today?
Words can are spoken...
To be used as jokes
To leave provoke brokenness.
Few are heard,
With a meaning one chooses to hear!
People seem transfixed to bring others,
To their knees in tears!
Fools feeding on a high octane of ignorance.
Combustible!
To then expect,
Rushes to flush them with forgiveness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grip, Lick, Zip Up and Leave
Remove me from your cruising list.
I know what you see.
And believe is me.
But my mind aint into it.
Although physically I may tease...
I'm much more than just a piece of fresh meat,
To eat for a fast treat.
So you can grip, lick, zip up and leave.
I'm not that kind of adventurist.
Not with chumps or chicks...
Who need to satisfy a munching done,
Applied to their overstretched lips.
'Put your metal to the pedal.
And get over it! '
Remove me from your cruising list.
I am out to take a peaceful stroll.
I'm not into 'quickies'
To be picked up by slick tricks.
Nor do I have interests to submit myself,
To limits of whims to hit it and split.
Giving into temptations like them?
Me?
I aint into it.
Especially when there are no long range benefits,
Invested with romance connected.
'No 'YOU' are the one who don't know what time it is!
If you knew that you wouldn't be trying to waste mine.
Go home to your spouse.
Or whoever it is you lie to! '
Remove me from your cruising list.
I know what you see.
And believe is me.
But my mind aint into it.
So you aint gripping to lick!
But you can zip up and leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thank You For Reminding Me
Because I thought we both would benefit
By being in each other's presence.
That's why I approached you!
I thought you would find that to be true too.
But you chose to use that
To unleash some unresolved issues...
And bitterness,
You wish to keep!
And I have long since learned to forgive.
However...
I will not forget,
The bitterness you reflect.
That reminds me of myself...
When I was self involved.
With a selfishness I have years ago left,
Behind!
And you are not the kind I wish to waste my time with!
That self centeredness I have dismissed.
Thank you for reminding me,
Just how much I have grown.
Without needs to dump my insecurities,
On someone else's shoulders!
And you?
Seem to do what you do well.
And I do not wish to observe that in practice!
Or keep it rehearsed in my life.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rewarding
No wishes do I have,
To sit and dwell upon times gone.
Each breath I am blessed to take...
I make the best of it.
Remembering heartbreaks,
But not with them do I solicit,
Lingering memories that persist.
Too much right now,
At this moment...
I am completely in the midst of it!
Nothing do I wish to change.
I have made up my mind...
To find in the time now lived,
Rewarding.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effects of what Others Do
Don't you dislike those implications?
I know I use to.
Especially the ones made,
By those who owe their lives to you.
The ones who have lied to others...
Who now have everything surfacing,
To have people see them...
As the fools I knew.
Those are the ones who like to take credit,
For things they did not do.
And today they want to prove themselves,
By overcompensating their judgements passed.
Only to find themselves,
Trapped by lies and deceit believed...
Buried in their past.
To now see what they've done now being trashed.
And not by me!
By that reflection they see.
'What goes around comes around.'
My mother use to say.
And, 'God don't like ugly, boy.
So you don't be that way.
He knows what's going on.
You'll see that one day.'
And as I've aged and matured,
I see the effects left by what others do.
With the attempt made to ruin lives of others.
And I know if they could have their druthers,
They would wish their feelings now felt inside...
Would not cling to linger as truths they can not deny.
'There is a reason WHY for everything.'
And I...
Use to dislike those implications made.
But I must say today I realize as I empathize...
Those I had despised,
Ruined their own lives not mine.
I'm not the one sitting with wishes,
I had lived a more righteous life.
I am happy living the life God to me has given!
With a conscious free and glad I had listened.
And did not rush to revenge those judgements.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If Wishes Could Be Kisses
(r. alfred / w. farrell)
Baby, if wishes could be kisses
And dreams could make you mine
I wouldnt be a-sitting here
Wasting all this time
No, no, baby, if you call me
Id race down the street
Id be there so fast
Youd think I had wings on my feet
Oh, baby, if wishes could be kisses
Id wish with all my mind
I wouldnt have to make believe
Im in your arms tonight
No, no, baby
I could thrill you if youd let me try
Wed take off together
And wed tell this world goodbye
But I know it just cant be
Unless you feel the same as me, oh, yeah-heah
Baby, if wishes could be kisses
Then Id be first in line
If Im not wrong it wont take long
til youre my valentine
Oh, oh, baby, if you hear me
Make me know you do
If Im lucky Ill find out
That youve been wishing too
A-come on, baby
A-come on, baby
If wishes could be kisses, oh, yeah
Oh, if wishes could be
Woah, baby, if you hear me
Make me know you do
If Im lucky Ill find out
That youve been wishing too
A-come on, baby
Woah, come on, baby
If wishes could be kisses, now, yeah
If wishes could be kisses, yeah
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Read Me Like a Book
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
You will find each piece to fit.
Very little of it will be misunderstood.
I am not a one dimensional quick read at all.
I lay it on the line.
You will find I wont allow anyone,
To sit and pick my mind.
I don't waste that kind of time.
Unless,
Of course...
You are divorced from that as well?
Hmmm...
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
You have no idea how much I wish,
To get you hooked.
Craving to salivate.
Drooling!
Each chapter has been crafted,
With some sentiment and pain.
You will find some sorrow and regret.
And some expression of heartache left.
You will discover blemishes and flaws,
With attempts to have them corrected.
Notice I admit imperfection...
With self reflection I don't neglect.
Or regret it is you I wish to impress.
No games of tit for tat I play.
I say what I mean.
Not what you wish to hear me say.
And none of it is from mumbled lips.
I want each word read you 'read' conveyed!
I want what I say in your mind to stay.
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
But you will never comprehend...
How long this process took.
Flip through each page,
As if you seek definition.
You will discover I am not perfect.
But freed by a peace...
To solict your complete and total admission.
Willing to show you mended scars.
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
I knew you were coming!
That's why it is already open.
Take your time.
I want you to find me an easy read.
Hopefully to collaborate on new chapters.
Together,
You and me.
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
Take me with your eyes.
Hold me in your hands.
And bring me close to your heart!
There we are.
Touching!
That's how I like it.
Do you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bitter Is The Taste Left On Tongues
Had he not destroyed the lives,
Of millions of people...
With deceit and lies.
And arrogant displays of ignorance.
Something he now says...
May have made some empathetic sense.
He was the first to say there was no recession.
Now he wishes to make claims,
That was inherited.
He lead conservative ideals,
To ruin and deplete a robust economy.
And not a word did he listen to others.
Preferring to succeed...
From a position of egotistic needs.
A forgiving people hear and see this.
With grateful wishes,
He and his corrupted followers...
Can not leave soon enough.
To begin a healing...
That will take decades for those who suffer,
To feel and believe!
With few expressing an energy left,
With a smile to lift!
Isolated greed and wholesome stupidity...
Will leave a bitter taste on tongues for years.
As those most affected by the depth of crimes condoned...
Will realize their quality of life once the pride on Earth,
Had been miraculously erased...
By a leadership with no remorse at all,
To ever be shown or known!
Demons in motion...
Are not attached to these emotions.
And bitter is the taste left on tongues...
For what to them has been consciously done!
Tricked by the wicked.
And made sick...
Are they to their stomachs.
To know this feeling is made real.
As it exists,
For them to feel!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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