Find The Humor in It
There are those who profess,
The same aging miseries.
As if to keep them possessed,
Makes their complaints more acceptable.
If I was to say,
I have heard people comment...
About the same agonies today,
They had 'decades' ago...
There would be those believing,
I am finding fresh ways to exaggerate.
There are those who profess,
The same aging miseries.
As if to keep them possessed,
Makes their complaints more acceptable.
I couldn't even embellish this stuff,
To find the humor in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Visit With Aging
I don't know why,
You believed I was older than you.
I use to be.
But you and aging have become much closer.
And it seems as if you have been convinced,
To interpret every year you have lived as a struggle.
I'm not trying to interpret my life that way at all.
When aging came to visit me,
I told it to make itself at home.
And if I choose to do what I please...
I'm not making an effort to be rude.
But neither am I going to sit with it to reminisced,
The good old days.
Too much everyday for me is new!
And...
I didn't feel I had to excuse myself from it to explore.
I just do.
You on the other hand...
Seem to want to impress aging,
As a depiction you believe is an acceptable process.
Hey,
We all have our interpretations.
However...
Yours appears to be a bit exaggerated.
But I aint mad at you!
What your visit with aging is like.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs To Aging Children Come
Through the windless wells of wonder
By the throbbing light machine
In a tea leaf trance or under
Orders from the king and queen
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
People hurry by so quickly
Dont they hear the melodies
In the chiming and the clicking
And the laughing harmonies
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Some come dark and strange like dying
Crows and ravens whistling
Lines of weeping, strings of crying
So much said in listening
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Does the moon play only silver
When it strums the galaxy
Dying roses will they will their
Perfumed rhapsodies to me
Songs to aging children came
This is one
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Kind Of 'Labor' Most Enjoyed
I am not a rocket scientist.
But with the aid of observation,
I can tell you this...
Making things look easy to do,
Has a way of creating lazy people.
Often I've heard it said by others,
'They do what 'they' do because it is loved...
And easy.
Anybody can do that.
They don't have to work...
Like I do.'
And I have been in positions to 'see' that 'work'!
A blinded trained Seal could have produced much better.
This is not an exaggeration.
More folks sit back to procrastinate,
Than to get things done.
Not only discipline is missing.
People are just not accustomed to dedication.
Unless...
They are dedicated to the wasting of time.
And 'getting-down-and-funky' over a three day weekend,
Best expresses that devotion to the kind of 'labor' most enjoyed.
To be followed by a Monday of complaints,
And expected pay.
For doing absolutely nothing until the middle of the week.
And me?
I could never find this acceptable.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tables Turn And Times Change
For decades.
'D' With 'cades'...
Decades!
The homeless and those hungry,
Have survived outside...
Under carboard, subways
And bus and train stations.
Ignored completely...
By those giving them,
Cornered looks from eyes...
With raised noses.
As those of 'means'...
Treated the people in these scenes,
As if to be invisible.
With a wish,
By those 'of means'...
Not to see 'those' people,
In these scenes.
'Why can't they find jobs?
It is deplorable to see this...
Acceptable laziness.'
But,
The tables turn and times change.
'Those' people are now joined by 'them'.
And 'they' together are finding...
How values swiftly shift,
From mall shopping...
To wishing someone hurries,
From a publicly used restroom!
And newspaper to rub...
Becomes for both of them,
And many with money wearing thin...
A point of focus.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Did We Get Here?
Some people will go to the extreme,
To get an attention...
Even if the getting of it,
Demeans acceptable standards meant.
And degrades what is valued with intent.
To then dress in costume to heighten the event.
Never to know or grown into adulthood.
And those who eventually become selected to be victimized,
Are usually those who closed their eyes...
Believing themselves unaffected by this.
While innocently allowing the ones to select and pick them,
As dispensable objects to disregard and perform...
Actions to define,
As a sickness a normal mind would not permit.
Then out of the woodwork unsolicited opinions come.
From those intellectual to separate themselves from those,
Created from the same fabric.
'But...
How did we get here? '
~Charading and afraid,
To reveal a parading of masquerades.
With a cherising to protect pretentions made.
And finding it acceptable to mask what is inevitable!
'Seriously...
How did we get here? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Accustomed to Sitting In Darkness
Shiny things fade.
Eyes upon them dim.
Excitement goes away.
One's aging becomes noticed.
Complaints about this increase.
Each day is lived in fear.
The fearlessness of youth disappears.
And those accustomed to sitting in darkness...
Sit,
In darkness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Yes, I Said Possessed
I can be lofty and mentally detached.
But with you?
I find no need for that.
I only want to be for you accessible.
Direct and possessed without being excessive.
I can be intelligent.
Or silly without making a bit of sense.
If I choose to do it.
And as long as you accept that,
As a part of me I do not have to prove.
I just want to be me with you that's all.
To role play is outdated.
And I don't know how to be fake.
But if I find you masquerading...
I too can be two faced.
I can be lofty and mentally detached.
But with you?
I find no need for that.
I only want to be for you accessible.
Direct and possessed without being excessive.
Yes.
I said possessed.
With a doing for each other,
The only way we know best.
Yes, I said possessed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I See My Friends Aging
I see my friends aging
Slower in all they do-
The wrinkles and the hesitations before not remembering,
The difficulties in things done so easily once-
I see my friends aging
Sicker and sadder
Their eyes in some strange distance-
Some of them courageous
With plans and trips and grandchildren,
Endlessly going and doing
And being the best they can-
I see my friends aging
And wonder how long I too can pretend
Its still alright-
At this time of life
Time is cruel
And we are going only one way-
I see my friends aging
And I will soon if I am still here
Walker cane wheelchair
Be ancient too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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042011F strange words
i was talking to my friend
she came up with words
so strange to understand
i thought of people's humor
naming something funny
which is true every culture
we finally agree on lesser
bizarre meaning, acceptable
good thing about it is we didn't
argue but find ways to discover
a venue to make conversation
enjoyable and of course longer
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Where The Problem Is
There use to be a time,
When people passed off anything...
And found it acceptable.
Today those same people,
Who found anything and everything done acceptable...
Are seeking explanations amongst themselves,
As to why those they have selected to represent them...
Seem less qualified to audition for characters portrayed,
In any nursery rhymes they have ever told to their children.
And...
The ones who are trying to snap them 'into' reality,
Can not say it loud enough...
That everything that has been sweetened to eat,
And given to them to nourish...
Has had damaging effects,
On the maintaining of their mental health.
Yet...
STILL they wish to keep the same story lines told,
But they wish to have the ones telling those nursery rhymes...
To depict the exact images in their minds,
That have never existed.
Although they seek 'anyone' besides those who are truthful,
To deliver the goods.
With a comfort for them that is understood.
There use to be a time,
When people passed off anything...
And found it acceptable.
But these times lived can no longer depend on myths.
People are challenged to be real with themselves.
And that's where the problem is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being Direct
I don't know if it was aging,
Or its process...
That increased my desire,
To ensure a peace of mind I found...
Stayed in place.
Or if it began creating itself,
Over time.
And I sought ways to prioritize,
Its importance.
But I will admit this,
The finding of it found...
Has today with me lived to exist.
And being direct is an added bonus,
That allows me to use my age...
To guarantee any nonsense from me stays away.
And this I have noticed...
Without one word from me to say,
I can raise just 'one' eyebrow...
To get my point across.
Either with a frown or a smile,
It does not seem to matter.
Only those who have experienced this,
Can appreciate the value and the benefits...
Of aging with a peace of mind.
And being direct to protect what one has,
To classify it as valued...
Seems to get more respect when one has clearly aged.
However,
There are some exceptions!
Those who do not seem to age gracefully,
Do appear to attract and nag with exurberance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Atheism Is Not...
people who do not
happen to profess
to or believe in the truth
of the true Christian faith
people who do not
happen to profess
to or believe in the truth
of Islam Hinduism Buddhism
people who do not
believe there is a God or gods
people who have no religion
people who have no religious beliefs
atheism is not a religion
atheism is not an ideology
atheism is not a philosophy
atheism is not a belief system
atheism is not a creed
atheism is not a world view
atheism is simply not believing
God gave freedom of choice
Atheists have made their choice
their choice is a God given right
their God given right to choose
let each leave others in blessed peace
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I mean, the people who run Guantanamo, the military, pretty much dismiss complaints by the detainees because they say that they're all created as part of a political process to sort of fake complaints and get public support.
quote by Jane Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Body Is Going Through Some Changes
Some of you have heard this comment before...
'You look good,
For your age! '
What does that really mean?
What is implied?
And how should the comment be taken?
I see some people react with a smile.
As if they have been complimented.
While others have a puzzled look on their faces.
As if to say...
'And how old should I look? '
And then there are those,
Who are so frightened to appear their ages...
They are the ones behind sunglasses.
And under toupees, weaves, wigs...
Moisturizes, nip, tucks and cosmetic masks!
Making the aging process a scary thought for anyone!
Me?
I care less about how I look.
Well...
Some days!
Just to set the record straight.
However...
For me,
It's the way I feel.
And some days I feel like I should be filmed for a documentary.
With bones cracking and other noises my body makes,
In the mornings when I rise to start my day.
I swear...
Birds I hear early in the morning chirping,
Stop when I get up.
They listen.
They make me aware,
My body is going through some changes!
Especially the ones who have the nerve to sit,
On my window sill and look in!
And they don't have to say anything,
For me to get the message.
I guess it is how this whole process is approached.
And how that is done...
That leaves a lasting impression!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slick Tricksters
Believing themselves to be equipped,
With a kind of wit that makes them slick...
They appear from nowhere,
Out from the woodwork...
To show their aging routines.
As if slick tricksters...
Assuming as they once did,
The ones they wish to 'do'...
Have no clue what they are up to!
And their immaturity they believe,
Is not in full view.
To once again...
Undermine and defame,
One's character to put to shame.
And these 'kids' masquerading as adults,
Are all over the place.
Be careful.
Or you just might find yourself,
Tripping over their toys.
Placed to trap to entertain their laughter.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just to 'Hang' In There
We've all seen them rush,
To meet and greet new guests.
With impressions made.
And in fresh dress...
To do their best,
To be the ones addressed.
We've all seen them rush,
To meet and greet new guests.
Especially the ones who profess,
To be those righteous.
But disguising their true selves,
As pests who love to gossip.
We've all seen them rush,
To meet and greet new guests.
To get those same guests...
To get upset and leave.
And the actions of those responsible,
Seem as natural as the scenery.
If one is not in constant movement.
And movement is a required necessity.
For anyone who stays around.
And not just to 'hang' in there!
For the purpose to keep this reviewed,
With the same complaints to report...
On a daily basis.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Obstacle 1
I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips
We can cap the old times, make playing only logical harm
We can cap the old lines, make playing that nothing else will change
But she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
She can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
Oh, she's bad
But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this face again
You go stabbing yourself in the neck
And we can find new ways of living make playing only logical harm
And we can top the old times, clay-making that nothing else will change
But she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
She can ray, she can ray, she can ray, she's bad
Oh, she's bad
It's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again
You go stabbing yourself in the neck
But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again
And you go stabbing yourself in the neck
It's in the way that she posed, it's in the things that she puts in my head
Her stories are boring and stuff, she's always calling my bluff
She puts, she puts the weights into my little heart
And she gets in my room and she takes it apart
She puts the weights into my little heart
I said she puts the weights into my little heart
She packs it away
It's in the way that she walks
Her heaven is never enough
She puts the weights in my heart
She puts, oh she puts the weights into my little heart
song performed by by Interpol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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^^Raging hate, aging fate^^
Locked inside this deep raging hate.
Wanting to escape the aging fate.
In a world full of toxic waste, makes me wounder how it tastes.
The death that lies inside, my pain that cries for revise.
How do i leave this raging hate
& how do i escape this aging fate?
poem by Carly Bachor
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To hear complaints with patience, even when complaints are vain, is one of the duties of friendship.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not what they profess but what they practice that makes them good.