Expensive Polished Acrylic Nails
No...
I can not blame them at all.
If children today,
Can not write or read.
Lack discipline and have an abscence of respect.
Lay lazily around the house,
Or move from website to website...
With the ease of a mouse.
Nor can I find fault with them...
For not knowing how to wash a dish,
Sweep or mop a floor...
Or know what hangers in their closets,
Are used for.
But skilled I know they are at this...
Smoking pot and drinking alcohol.
And returning home late,
Anytime they wish!
Irresponsible, yes.
And unaccountable too.
Why the attention is placed upon their teachers in schools?
Does not baffle anymore.
Parents and guardians...
And those monitoring dysfunctions,
Are quick to intellectualize...
The causes of anti-social behavior.
And getting paid high salaries for it too!
But somehow,
None of them seem to have a clue...
That common sense has been distant from their theories!
And the finger pointing that they do?
Is not surprisingly being done...
With loud mouths opened.
And hands manicured and expensive...
Waving in the air,
Those spotted and polished acrylic nails!
And THAT is a guarantee.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Related quotes
Quart In Session
Its funny how nothing seems much fun
Anymore to me now that I quit the drink
cause soberness, it might be what I need
But its certainly not how I wanna be
Nothing seems much fun anymore to me
Consequence never had anytime to think
About what coulda, shoulda, happen to me
C-common sense my parents said i
Didnt have any, but now look whose
Got the dough
No longer born to lose
Put away my party shoes
Missin the alcohol
Dont feel like goin out
Nothing worth singin about
Missin the alcohol
Without tonic n gin
Without no vicodin
Nothing seems much fun anymore to me (x4)
song performed by by NOFX

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driven into Fits as Unrestless Misfits Twitch
I've noticed children that lack discipline,
Are accustomed to their parents or guardians...
Shouting out demands to them.
With cussing heard that eventually is returned,
To the same people to have their ears burn.
For the most part children learn by example.
Not from samples taught by teachers in classrooms...
Driven into fits as unrestless misfits twitch unable to sit.
To have parents defend their children looking innocent,
In front of a judge delivering limited sentences.
To nip that disrespect in the bud,
With a punishment suitable is no longer legit.
Instead what children do today is tolerated...
And out of control they are,
As everyone seems to make excuses for it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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We Shall Recover and We Must
It has become very easy for 'some' social misfits...
To blame their insecurities,
And atrocious misdeeds...
On the lack of attention given to them,
By their ancestors, parents...
And equally crazed friends.
And they wont have to look far,
To find those defending them.
With high profiled psychologists...
Seeking from a weeping nation,
To uncover deep sympathy...
Commited by these beasts,
For their anti-social sins.
' We must explore from the depths of our beliefs,
A forgiveness for these vicious attacks.
We shall all recover,
And we must...
From the pain that has been caused to us,
By such heinous acts.
And we should not blame our way of life,
It is not 'us' but 'them'.
And remember that!
Afterall,
No one listening to this...
Should be,
Or should be made to feel...
Responsible.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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This 'Thing' About Time
I have this 'thing' about time.
And those who express,
Time for them is meaningless.
It is like having a discussion about discipline.
And many can intellectualize it...
But the act of it is too distant for them.
Being on time some define,
Is stated for the purpose to be on it and not late.
Others will take it and waste it as they see fit.
Not arriving before or on time at all.
Just to have another irritated losing patience...
Awaiting to hear an excuse someone makes.
I have this 'thing' about time.
And those who express,
Time for them is meaningless.
It is like having a discussion about discipline.
And many can intellectualize it...
But the act of it is too distant for them.
And long past the hour,
Someone appears in an atmosphere...
That by the minute is getting sour.
And more time is spent,
Listening to inventive excuses...
Describing why they had not called,
To apologize at all.
I have this 'thing' about time.
And those who express,
Time for them is meaningless.
With no sign of respect...
To the one that is questioned,
Why is it they seem to be quite upset!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Internet safety begins at home and that is why my legislation would require the Federal Trade Commission to design and publish a unique website to serve as a clearinghouse and resource for parents, teachers and children for information on the dangers of surfing the Internet.
quote by Mike Fitzpatrick

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High Tuition Rates
Many perceive teachers,
To be magicians with wands.
And a child with no ambition,
Will suddenly become disciplined enough...
To enjoy the process of learning,
To eventually become wise.
Like the getting of good grades,
Teaches one how to survive.
Some parents believe schools,
Are created for this.
With no encouragement at all,
From them do their children get.
Afterall...
Few are taught that thinking,
Is an investment made.
And no one can fault those who assume.
Many who pay high tuition rates,
Assume after one graduates...
With a degree in hand,
They can declare themselves intelligent.
As if a payment for common sense,
Also applies.
'No!
The other end of the broom,
Is used for the sweeping of the floors.
Your abilities look excellent on paper.
Are you 'sure' they are yours? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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To Be Free of Not Having Children
My mother would have my sister and I...
As kids,
To go look for a nice sized switch.
Then strip it before she whipped us with it!
And then dared us to cry...
As if we weren't already hurting inside.
Then made us stand up straight,
As if at attention.
Telling us not to roll our eyes.
And not a word she wanted heard mentioned.
One day I did something...
And I chose from my mother to run.
I was stunned she was running right behind me fast.
She snatched me by the neck,
And proceeded to spank my ass!
Disciplined?
My mother played softball,
And my father had been a boxer.
Do you think I have survived all these years...
Trying to out foxed those two.
Knowing what they could do...
And convinced they did well at what they did!
Disciplined?
We were not told twice,
To do something again they said they did not like.
And my father did not have to raise a finger.
All he did was use his eyes.
'Daddy, please! Don't look at me like that! '
But my mother on the other hand,
Commanded well our ship!
Whenever she began to raise her voice...
Mimmie and I knew we were heading for something quick!
And crying we would do first...
Because we knew there was no exit!
I can hear my mother's voice today.
If I had threatened to call 911.
She would hand me the phone and tell me to dial.
And if the police should arrive...
They would discover a missing child.
Both of my parents were extremely humorous.
However...
My mama did not play,
If we did not obey!
In those days when parenting
Was out of the hands of the government!
And although we may have grown up 'slightly' dysfunctional.
Dysfunctions and all...
Today?
We are happy we grew up the way we did.
And if I had children,
Living today as these 'hardhead' children do...
I wouldn't dare them to call 911.
That option?
Not available!
Not if I'm to play poppa.
No!
They wouldn't get a chance to!
And I might be visited as I sat in prison!
But any child of mine...
Would get a rod struck to their behind.
Like lightening...hot and sizzling.
Sparing me the grief that today's parents find.
My children would pay me attention.
And we together would share respect.
Perhaps that's why I live my life blessed.
To be free of not having children!
I could not stand by as they lived lives,
Attracted to standards bathed in degradation.
I'm not 'that' patriotic!
And to live without feeling guilt...
Or in a remorse,
That leaves me in debt AND regret!
I am grateful to be that blessed...
Yes.
I know my limitations.
And I am glad I do not have children,
Insisting to see me pushed to them!
I love my life lived...
Without displaying a rage that drives me crazed,
And confined!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Children Need Their Fathers
The mothers are now saying,
Their children need their fathers.
But weren't they they ones,
Who kept the fathers away?
And had the law hunt them down...
After having the courts chase they,
With warnings to keep their distance...
From these same children,
The mothers are saying...
Need their fathers!
And the fathers...
Who have discovered a peace of mind,
Are no longer trying to find excuses...
Why their fatherless children,
Seem to be out of their minds.
No matter who tries,
To blame their lack of discipline...
With no respect to others to show or give,
And put this on their shoulders...
To claim this is a reaction to their absence.
People who make decisions with ignorance,
Are always guaranteed to put their activities...
In the path of someone else to fault and shame!
'How many children raised by their mothers,
Compared to those raised by their fathers...
Have issues of discipline?
Or sit in prisons?
As a direct result of those who have created,
This statistic...
As if it had developed on its own!
Like hunger, homelessness and racism.'
~Excuse me?
I think you are looking for the excelerated classrooms.
You've stepped into a remedial one,
By mistake.~
'I'm sorry.
I was getting eye contact.
And immediately I thought they were paying attention.
Where are the excelerated classrooms? '
~Up those stairs, take a right...
And they will be the ones,
Where the light is shining bright.
You will not miss them.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Kids I Once Knew Had Specific Chores
We knew fear but not excuses...
Where I grew up and lived as a kid.
Plus we were too competitive...
With a daring done to prove we weren't afraid.
And much too inquisitive about life,
Back in those days...
When we were taught to be respectful.
And all of the kids I once knew had specific chores,
Assigned to do to get done.
With a doing of them first or face the consequences.
To 'then' be followed by the doing of any school homework.
I am not one to say the children today are lazy.
Nor am I one to pass judgement on the obvious,
To argue in debate or heated discussion with those offended.
Since today there is a difference between being 'smart',
And having common sense.
Intellectualizing what is obviously a detriment,
I leave to those still trying to impress...
There elementary school teachers.
There is a technology involved a lot of children use,
Without using their heads like we once had to do.
And not being able to read 'and' write?
To then brag about graduating from high school?
Whether or not they attended day or night...
With an acceptance given to go to a college too?
I will not say is ridiculous...
Since to me that's my observation.
And I have had it being the one considered to be a fool.
No wonder they have no discipline.
Folks refuse to acknowledge the truth.
Or instill this asset within the minds of their children.
They've been given the right to do as they choose.
And refusing to listen...
So many have chosen 'that' to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Demon Alcohol
Im sick and tired of your excuses
Cant deal with living anymore
Ill give you reasons to continue
While you lie writing on the floor
Ill wash away your lies
And have you hypnotized
Therell be no compromise today
Ill share your life of shame
I think you know my name
Ill introduce myself today
Im the demon alcohol
Demon alcohol
Ill get you
If you could deal with your reflection
Im sure youd see into my eyes
Therell be no need for resurrection
Lets drink to people of the lies
Although that ones too much
You know tens not enough
Therell be no compromise today
Ill watch you lose control
Consume your very soul
Ill introduce myself today
Im the demon alcohol
Demon alcohol
Ha ha
Demon alcohol
Demon alcohol, lets party
(demon alcohol)
(Im the demon alcohol)
Im sick and tired of resolutions
Youve quit me time and time again
Dont speak of suicide solutions
You took my hand, Im here to stay
This time its you or me
Ill never set you free
Therell be no compromise today
So satisfy your lust
Too much cant be enough
Ill introduce myself today
Im the demon alcohol
The demon alcohol
Aha
Demon alcohol
Demon alcohol
Lets party
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Parents are the builder of children’s characters and minds,
The mother won’t be a fighter but should be a well preacher,
If she is an illiterate she must carry her children to tuition,
Howsoever the mother should educate their children first,
And she should send her children to school daily and regularly,
Teachers are not blamed not to fulfil children’s educational thirst,
Both the parents and teachers should make them the best citizens,
As we can’t work with one hand likewise we can’t walk with one leg,
Hence, parents and teachers are the same faces of the same coin,
If parents and teachers do them careless they suffer in life to beg,
Do well and have well it is said to see your own profit in life or ruin,
That is why parents and teachers are the best artists of the child,
If an art is spoilt the statue of the child looks like an ugly and a wild.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi

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Quite Shocked And Appalled
Quite shocked and appalled are they.
The ones accused to be the reason,
Why a way of life is 'rumored' to be tied...
Directly to them.
And the cause of a downslide and bankruptcy.
They don't accept this.
Although maintaining pretentions,
Can be quite expensive.
They feel offended when it is broadcast on TV...
How their children who lack discipline,
Respect, hygiene and social etiquette...
Is directly connected to a reflected negligence.
And those fingers are pointed to them.
Because of their feelings of being entitled...
And the laws that are 'designed' to protect their whims.
They don't accept this.
Although maintaining pretentions,
Can be quite expensive.
And the money that is spent,
To keep their symbolic points of view...
Gleaming in their minds,
And where these images are found...
Has broken their backs,
To bring their knees to touch the ground.
And...
They don't accept this.
Although maintaining pretentions,
Can be quite expensive.
And they protest and picket their leadership,
To change what they've done quick...
Or,
They will find themselves replaced.
They demand at any cost,
To have their delusions better represented.
And 'this' they will accept.
Although maintaining pretentions,
Can be quite expensive.
Quite shocked and appalled are they.
The ones accused to be the reason,
Why a way of life is 'rumored' to be tied...
Directly to them.
And the cause of a downslide...
And bankruptcy.
Attached to their credit.
And upaid loans.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Those Who Believe They Are Ageless
The streets are full with aging teenagers.
And those who believe they are ageless!
Irresponsible and socializing their whims.
Those who can not get enough of 'happy hour'...
24/7 and some!
Those are the ones who befriend their children,
With a lack of parenting and a breakdown of discipline!
Those are the ones who confront teachers,
To defend their disrespecting children...
As if that is an honor to show up,
After their offspring have been tossed out!
And those are the ones shouting the loudest.
They can not understand why their children aren't learning!
Those are the ones...
Who do not listen.
But argue their voices aren't being heard!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Elevator
1st floor decide what you'll be one day
With a head full of comment and nothing to say
2nd floor mixed up it happens that way
Soon you realize that listening don't pay
3rd floor in limbo, no easy moves
Up or down it's time to choose
(chorus)
The elevators going up
Quick the door's about to shut
Too late we're full just hang around
It won't be long - it won't be long before it's down
4th floor the job hunt and all that you ask
Is an honest day's pay for an honest day's graft
5th floor you may make a little more money
Now it's apparent downstairs ain't so fuuny
6th floor a mortgage, a collar and tie
2 weeks vacation in june or july
(chorus)
The elevators going up
Quick the door's about to shut ....
7th floor expenses and private schools
Pushing a pen you're not turning the tools
8th floor position, respect and acclaim
Move up the 9th for fortune or fame
10th floor for investment and real estate
Recouping the redies before it's tool late
11th floor the penthouse the final cut
With a head full of comment and a mouth that stays shut
(chorus)
The elevators going up
Quick the door's about to shut ....
song performed by by Ub40

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Parents Refuse to Come Home
When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.
poem by David E. Patton

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Swagger
With a walk of pride,
And heads held high.
Displaying a confidence seen and undenied.
Some come to think of this still as arrogance.
Anyone appearing dignified and proud,
With an identity that speaks out loud...
And arrogance is applied to this stride that clouds,
Today's definition
Swagger is what that is called today.
In my day...
In times that seem so far away.
To act as if one was a foolish clown...
Was one who was down to Earth.
And had been taught this was acceptable,
With a teaching of this from one's birth.
Being a fool was preferred behavior.
In cycles where dysfunctions were revered.
Many times I was told I wasn't a bag of chips.
But easily spotted as a dim-witted dip!
To display one's intelligence...
Was for some an embarrassment.
Today...
Those 'dips' done by the ones with wit,
Appear to have a lot of emulated swagger.
With a hip-hop that raps and rocks!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Fashions are a passing phase for friend Jon London
I read your words with greatest care
and try to see your point of view
Although sometimes I must declare
I find it difficult to do.
I hesitate to criticise.
Aware the fault may lie with me.
Nor dare I offer you advice.
You might resent it bitterly.
The messages you try to send
to me lack simple clarity
I cannot see what you intend.
It makes no sense at all to me.
Your random thoughts lack coherence
They’re neither poetry nor prose.
An unintended consequence
of fashions changing I suppose.
The way that poetry is taught
in schools and colleges today.
They do not know although they ought.
Anything goes is not the way.
Most modern so called poetry
can only be poetic prose
Although it’s written beautifully
Opinions differ I suppose.
I’ll stick to formal poetry
Perhaps I need the discipline
that rhyme and meter gives to me.
And free form verse I will decline.
2-Feb-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes

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Teacher’s Day in India,2010
Teachers teach students to learn;
Teachers show them how to earn;
Teachers guide students to read;
Teachers help them if they need.
Teachers share with pupils, ken;
Teachers show them how to pen;
Teachers train them in most things;
Teachers make them good earthlings!
Teachers mould their character;
Teachers act facilitator;
Teachers are a boon on earth;
Teachers bring students, mirth!
Teachers care for children-wards;
Teachers don’t expect rewards;
Teachers slog throughout life-span;
Teachers make them man / woman.
Teachers are a humble lot;
Teachers make learning, an art;
Teachers perform well their part;
Teachers love students in heart!
Teachers are next to parents;
Teachers are a nation’s wealth;
Teachers make a student great;
Teachers are a must for all.
Revere teachers on this Day;
Thank them truly in some way;
Emulate them, if you may;
‘Give them good health, God’, you pray!
“Happy Teachers’ Day! ”
Most lovingly dedicated to all my teachers,
Living and dead, who made me,
‘What I am, today! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 05-09-2010
poem by John Celes

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