Fighting For Their Rights To Be Fools
There is nothing like conditional repetition.
In the doing of something that will never work.
And defying the advice given,
By those who are professional and certified as experts.
A conspiracy is generated to consciously impede.
To ensure something effective does not succeed.
But an intentional application of implemented ignorance...
Says much about a mindset,
Wishing to influence by the lack of experience.
Or pretense of common sense.
There is nothing like conditional repetition.
In the doing of something that will never work.
And defying the advice given,
By those who are professional and certified as experts.
And those who suffer aren't the ones chosen to do so!
They've already identified and decided those who are the jerks.
When it becomes obvious lives are threatened,
By those incompetent and rise in position to rule.
The evidence of this speaks for itself.
The ones protesting with the loudest of voices...
Prove themselves on a daily basis,
Who are the ones truly victimized.
And who are those fighting for their rights to be fools.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Depicted as Narcissistic
Say what you wish,
But the business of keeping people sick...
Has become an industry.
And those desiring to remain in good health,
Have become the ones depicted...
As narcissistic,
Ego manics.
Wanting to live lives feeling great...
Without aches and pains to complain about it,
On a daily basis.
And there those declaring themselves as sick,
Sit in a hospital to prove first IF they can afford it.
WITH prescriptions to be written by a certified doctor...
Hoping someone has paid in advance for advice given,
Knowing that good advice from one's lips...
Does not stick inside a head of one impatient.
Or one unwilling to break away from old habits.
And showing no signs a wish for good health,
Has been accepted in their minds.
Or even given time for it to visit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tough Love
Tough love
Rebecca was a horrid child.
Her antics drove her mother wild..
Child experts offered their advice
but seldom came to visit twice.
Although her mother tried her best
Rebecca outdid all the rest.
She was unpleasant rude and crude.
An anti social attitude.
She seldom did as she was told
and thought she had the right to scold.
Her mother’s efforts at control
She seemed to have no other goal.
Than making life a misery
for members of her family.
But then her grandma came to stay.
Rebecca came to rue the day.
Grandma applied psychology
Rebecca placed across her knee
She tanned her little bottom hard.
Grandma had but scant regard.
For what the experts had to say
She raised her kids in the old way.
A firm hand lovingly applied
across Rebecca’s small backside.
Quickly changed her attitude.
Because her Grandma understood.
That little girls should never be
allowed to think that they were free.
To act and speak unpleasantly
without they paid the penalty.
Rebecca very swiftly learned
she got exactly what she earned..
She soon became a paragon.
Her bad behaviour was all gone.
Which demonstrates that Grandma knew
exactly what she had to do.
To make Rebecca toe the line
applied a little discipline.
In her own old fashioned way.
It worked a treat I have to say.
She changed Rebecca’s attitude
and earned her mothers gratitude.
Old fashioned ways had proved the best
to change Rebecca from a pest.
Into a most delightful child.
Although the experts all reviled
her methods. They could not deny
they were effective.I wonder why.
Perhaps they lack experience
as well as simple common sense.
Until they’ve raised a family
I doubt if they will ever see.
That discipline lovingly applied
beats everything which they have tried.
A child must know her boundaries
She cannot do as she pleases.
I think this story serves to show.
Although the experts think they know.
Experience will always win
when teaching children discipline.
20/05/2009
http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Based On Claims and Stolen Dreams
Efforts to reduce,
A self esteem one earns...
Is too obvious a tactic,
For one who only has a talent...
To undermine and broadcast it.
That's how obvious these tactics.
And when someone of a narrow mind,
Is behind such foolish schemes...
This also exposes the environment,
That allows those of lowlife...
To climb to heights,
Just based on claims and stolen dreams.
Without producing credentials or evidence,
Of competence.
While those who are capable are often depicted,
As fools.
Or something less flattering to sell to those who gossip.
To ensure one's defeat and public embarrassment,
Becomes signed, sealed and certified.
But...
Guess who eventually wins?
And guess whose steps are then scrutinized?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Licensed
Just how ignorant can a deepened ignorance be?
Can it be leased?
Or sold as one's property?
If one is to sell their's...
In today's economy,
Will they become considered as wise?
Becoming wealthy,
To discover they have been despised.
Will those marketing common ignorance,
Be recognized at all?
Since there is currently a surplus of it...
And those who are certified and licensed,
Can not prove their ignorance is truly authentic!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With A Defying Against Any Of The Evidence
To do something done unconsciously to another...
And to have that act returned with a consciousness delivered,
As intended!
Says this as witnessed...
There is no sense made in a display of one's offense.
And yet offended people become,
When given exactly to them what they had initiated.
And done.
With one thing missing.
A lack of acknowledging their involvement.
And an applied selective memory,
That removes them from the scene of a crime committed.
A common hit and run done claimed by someone caught,
To have known nothing about what has happened.
With a defying against any of the evidence.
Pictures, fingerprints...
Food stains and crumbs on lips.
And the habit of their daily routine.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like it or not, we have placed our destiny in the hands of the experts. A politician is, after all, a kind of expert, if self-styled. Even the fact that competent experts must serve under politicians of mediocre intelligence and little foresight is a problem that we are stuck with, because the experts themselves cannot agree on any major world issue. A logocracy of quarreling experts might be no better than the rule of the mediocrities to which we are subject. The declining intellectual quality of political leadership is the result of the growing complexity of the world. Since no one, be he endowed with the highest wisdom, can grasp it in its entirety, it is those who are least bothered by this who strive for power.
quote by Stanislaw Lem
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mandatory Doses
Observe the splits and divisions,
For what they are.
There is a decadent mindset,
Fighting to survive.
Fighting to defend its offensive outlook.
And wishing more to uphold a deluded sense of self.
With plots to keep their realities fantasized.
Driven to smother truths...
And bring light to cast upon a darkened way of life.
This incites a quickened end to a standard of living,
In need of massive psychiatric care.
Inflicted...
In mandatory doses.
Too crazed are they to be consciously aware,
Of the madness they have fed to breed!
This cancer feeds and kills.
Leaving this question to go unfulfilled...
'Who now is qualified,
To identify pride with added substantial substance? '
It is obvious that those who speak of experience...
Lack the knowledge to pass good judgement.
Unless incompetence has been an achievement?
And much of that has been reflective,
Of an illness swept away and kept...
In perceptions of having discretion.
Too lost are they to become outraged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Potsherds
Collectors of antiquities.
Renowned for eccentricities
are very often to be found
hanging round some battle ground
Dug up by archaelogists.
For whom they are apologists,
they are ready to accept.
Some archaeologists’ concept,
his latest greatest theory
of what some artefact might be.
Although in truth they do not know.
They will insist it must be so.
Professional experts every one
who are convinced that they are right.
They make deductions based upon
false premises to my delight.
They either can’t or won’t admit
that their opinions might be wrong.
They are convinced and that is it
The rest of us should go along.
With what they say no argument.
What can we know which they do not.
They’re sometimes right by accident
but just as often they are not.
The Piltdown man a clever hoax
fooled all the experts for decades.
Yet still some of these learned folks
do not believe mistakes are made.
I often watch with interest
the TV documentaries.
Which put their ideas to the test
and prove they’re only theories.
3-Nov-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gliding On The Surface
There is nothing like being assessed,
By those who prefer to just...
Do their gliding on the surface.
With a doing that at their best,
Against all warnings of first testing the depth...
To inspect and ensure,
What they have chosen to do...
Is not on thin ice!
Or...
Angers the one who has volunteered,
To provide them with 'sound' advice.
But that advice goes ignored,
Because it has been decided by those who glide...
The one speaking intelligently,
Does not physically impress them with image.
And 'image' is all they have been taught to address.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Stay To Feed This Beast
Word of advice.
Although it feels enticing,
To argue with someone...
Who has chosen ignorance to use,
As a weapon to fight against what is right.
Don't!
I repeat...DON'T!
Do not...
Show you are upset.
This will ignite,
A heat you will not be allowed to leave.
And you will get upset with regret.
Since...
People of ignorance,
Love and will get their attention!
And historically,
No one needs to prolong a search...
To uncover the evidence of that!
Word of advice.
Although it feels enticing,
To argue with someone...
Who has chosen ignorance to use,
As a weapon to fight against what is right.
Don't!
I repeat...DON'T!
Save yourself and 'time'.
Walk away immediately.
But don't stay to feed this beast.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boundless curiosity for friend Thad.
The world is full of mysteries.
Colossal buildings left behind
by earlier societies.
Their purposes still ill defined
Although the archaeologists
advance their favourite theories.
The mysteries will long persist.
Their different hypotheses.
Cannot be proven any way.
They’re based on their experience
Of living in the world to day.
A different frame of reference.
Which cannot possibly apply
They saw the world quite differently.
I do not think we can deny
We’re blinkered in the way we see.
The evidence which we can find,
We can’t interpret properly
The artefacts they left behind
Their uses are a mystery.
Though we attempt to classify
we can’t be sure we are correct.
These relics from past history
aren’t always what we would expect.
Temples and Tombs or Palaces
The truth is that we do not know
Secular or sacred places.
There is no evidence to show.
That we can state with confidence
confirms our modern theories.
We have no point of reference
With which everyone agrees.
The arguments rage to and fro
As experts wrangle bitterly
They daren’t admit they do not know.
Although they don’t quite obviously.
At best an educated guess
Must be the best we can expect.
From experts trying to impress
The other experts I suspect.
It seems to me improbable
That we will solve these mysteries
Our mind sets aren’t comparable
as different as chalk and cheese.
But still we are compelled to try
because these monuments exist.
Our boundless curiosity
will not allow us to desist.
Saturday,24 April 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm not a professional politician. I'm a professional problem solver, and I believe we should cut the salaries of senators and congressmen 10 percent until they balance the budget. I call that conservative common sense.
quote by Herman Cain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Repetition
You get up in the morning
And every single day
Is just a repetition
Its always been that way
You live alone inside your head
Incommunicado, in the land of living dead
Each days a repetition
Of the one that went before
Like watching an old movie
You cant sit through anymore
Why dont you kick the habit
And walk right out that door?
From all the repetition
Day after day
All the repetition
Its always been that way
Its in your head, its in your eyes
Youre boring and its no surprise
With all the repetition
Day after day
All the repetition
They say its time to start all over
And call it a day
But you go right back where you started
Day after day
You go right back to where you started
Day after day, after day, after day, after day
You look in the mirror
Is anybody there?
Its only a reflection
That doesnt really care
Youre a product of your time
Looking hard for something, but you never saw the sign
Lock inside a prison
But thats where you wanna be
Stuck in solitary
And youve thrown away the key
You say you want your freedom
But you dont wanna get away
Then you wake up, its time for you
To start another day
With all the repetition, day after day, all the repetition
All the repetition day after day
Another chance, another day
You know its time to get away from all the repetition
Day after day
How long you gonna sit and wait
Youre getting on its getting late
They say its time to start all over
And call it a day
But you go right back where you started
Day after day
You go right back to where you started
Day after day, after day, after day, after day
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joy In Repetition
{crowd noise same as for alphabet street}
He like to frequent this club down up on 36th
Pimps and thangs like 2 hang outside and cuss for kicks
Talking 2 no one in particular, they say the baddest I am tonight
4 letter words are seldom heard with such dignity and bite.
All the poets and the part time singers always hang inside
Live music from a band plays a song called soul psychodelicide.
The songs a year long and had been playing 4 months when he
Walked into the place.
No one seemed to care, an introverted this-is-it look on most of their faces.
Up on the mic repeating 2 words, over and over again
Was this woman he had never noticed before he lost himself in the
Articulated manner in which she said them.
These 2 words, a little bit behind the beat.
I mean just enough 2 turn u on.
4 everytime she said the words another one of his doubts were gone.
Should he try 2 rap with her? should he stand and stare?
No one else was watching her, she didnt seem 2 care.
So over and over, she said the words til he could take no more, (no more)
He dragged her from the stage and together they ran through the back door
In the alley over by the curb he said tell me whats your name
She only said the words again and it started to rain (rain, rain, rain)
2 words falling between the drops and the moans of his condition
Holding someone is truly believing theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
She said love me, love me, what she say?
She say love me, love me.
Joy, why dont u love me baby, joy, why cant u love me baby
Joy, come on and love me baby, joy in repetition
Alright, joy in repetition,
Alright, joy in repetition,
Alright, joy in repetition,
Alright, joy, all my wishes add up to one
Love me, joy, love me, joy, love me, joy
Love me, love me, joy, joy, joy in repetition
Joy, joy in repetition,
Joy, joy (love me) in repetition,
Love me, love, joy, joy, joy in repetition
Joy, and Im gonna say it again, joy, joy, and Im gonna say it again,
Joy, Id like 2 go way up high and say, love me, joy
Ill say love me, joy
Joy, joy in repetition, joy in repetition
Theres joy in repetition
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Proof positive 2011
Proof positive 2011
This tree is where no tree should be.
It clings to life precariously.
From whence it cam nobody knows.
All that we know is that it grows.
Although it’s stunted gnarled and bent.
It has survived that’s evident.
Perchance it’s where it should not be.
It does not matter to the tree.
This is the only place it knows
and so it very slowly grows.
Defying rules conceived by men
It forces them to think again.
Although the experts all agree.
It’s an impossibility
The tree discounts the experts view
A seed took root and simply grew.
That’s all seeds know how to do.
Its mere existence proves it’s true.
Tuesday,27 December 2011 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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However, I think, first of all, that what's happening in Sierra Leone is going to have the great influence on those governments who will be asked to provide forces to the Congo. Second, of course, the Security Council has no professional military advice organized in any way.
quote by Alex Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Repetition
Im coming back to you
Just like before.
Ive been a lonely boy
Since I walked out your door.
If theres a life for us,
I dont know.
But I cant live like this
Anymore.
The time I spend alone has nothing to give.
Its repetition,
Im coming back to you.
Repetition,
The only thing I can do.
Im coming back to you,
This time to stay.
If Ive learned one thing
Its that I cant stay away.
The time I spend alone has nothing to give.
The life I lead alone has nowhere to live.
Its repetition,
Im coming back to you.
Repetition,
The only thing I can do.
And I can still recall
How you would hold me.
The way a vast wave
Broke so slowly.
Its repetition,
Im coming back to you.
Repetition,
The only thing I can do.
Repetition,
And we can see this through.
Its repetition,
Im coming back to you.
song performed by by Information Society
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is the God conditional?
Father and mother!
You have concern for me
You are interested in me.
Your actions are not conditional.
You do not alienate me
Because I fail to entreat you.
I have no fear that you would desert.
You often forgive my sins.
Must I pray the God, whom I fear? .
Is God’s action conditional?
05.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Young Butterflies
Young butterflies,
Please, let your tender wings grow
Before you try to hit the skies
In an attempt to early fly
When the time is not right!
Scared to Hell you would be
If this dangerous endeavor
You would desperately try
When the time
Doesn't seem to be right!
Take my advice
Young butterflies,
I, the humble gardener
Who in my colorful garden
Have seen many like you
Trying to fly for the first time,
Defying the rules of gravity
When the time is not right!
Young butterflies,
Listen to the echo of the wind
And let Mother Nature
Takes its course!
While happily you welcome
The birth of a new sunrise
That would bring hope
To your tender life!
Young butterflies,
Let your wings grow
Until they are ready to flap
And you would be able to fly
And dance in the skies!
Please, young butterflies,
Listen to my humble advice!
Wishing you luck in your first flight!
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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