Finding That Pride In Accomplishment
The offerings are there,
To appease our growing need...
Feeding those ever changing sensibilities.
And each of them are teased constantly,
With an ever increasing boredom!
Then unconsciously,
We accuse our children...
Of not being able to focus,
With a priority to get at least 'something' done.
Finding that pride in accomplishment!
As we justify our sitting to reminisce,
The basicness of a youthfulness spent...
Entirely on being evasive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Expected To Deliver
The creating of feeding greed,
Has slowly become the focus...
Of everyone's priority.
And those who have been teased,
With the getting of entitlements...
Are addicted to the taste of it.
And those they select to then elect,
to represent their interests...
Are expected to deliver.
Regardless if the feasting,
Has little to nothing left.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A Finding Discovered
I doubt very seriously if my strides taken...
To want to motivate others to desire success,
Had been made more for them a priority...
Instead of something they did to see me pleased,
Or whatever that is done people do to appease...
Would I have adopted an inspiration,
To dropp them as my main activity.
With an applying all my focus done now,
As I do...
Upon doing my best.
To achieve without further wasting my time.
With a finding discovered,
Others only choose to make for themselves...
Excuses to accomplish as if to me to be defiant.
Nonsense embraced is inescapable these days.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without A Priority
Finding oneself...
Might take a lifetime.
And,
Finding one's life...
May not be...
Any need.
But...
Finding one's happiness,
Without a wanting...
May be possible.
But without a priority,
How can this succeed?
Finding oneself and untieing the knots,
May take a lifetime.
And finding one's life without a tear to drop,
May not be a need.
But...
Finding one's happiness without a crave,
May be possible.
But without a priority,
How can this succeed?
Without priority,
How this succeed?
Finding oneself...
Might,
Take a lifetime.
And finding one's life may not,
Be...
Anybody's need,
And...
Finding one's true happiness,
Without a wanting...
May be possible.
But without priority...
How can one succeed?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Funny Human Being
Taking my little concerns and miniature
plans too seriously instead of laughing
at myself, telling all with shiny eyes of
my new ideals, taking new medication
enabling me to eat less and sitting still
for longer periods
The sitting still is happening, but without
a large dose of interest, is quite useless,
mind growing bored tries to veer off, yet
discipline keeps me at my desk without
accomplishment, boredom grows as I
fail to find islands
Of glorious escapism to give my feelings
a break from cold emptiness, floundering
I cast about, the world shrinking to fit into
my aching head changing me into a use-
less robot without interest, passion or
ideal - immobile
Without feeling and emotion - without
conscience to power movement of my
head and eyes, reading words without
understanding anything, unable to set
priorities - I have become a useless
robot - at least
I used to be a funny human being
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Wanting 'Things' Never Seems To End
Teased with a wish of wanting 'things',
Never seems to end.
Until an aging with maturity begins
And the payments of keeping those dreams,
Seem to numb when they come...
With the changing done to one's priorities.
And difficult as it is to focus,
On that which one wishes brings happiness.
With that eventually happening,
To surprise one wanting just the basics of life...
Over the obtaining of having things just to keep,
After addressing the impression made on others.
To recognize the difference between wants and needs,
Is the first step in weeding away fluff stuff.
And that which feeds on ego with late charges to make,
Attached to overdraft fees.
Awakening to the basicness of happiness,
Relieves one from nightmares of attempting to make ends meet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Complexity and Yet a Basicness
Complexity,
And yet a basicness...
Seem to be prerequisites,
For those who claim to have preferences.
Standards one likes,
To highlight and prioritize...
Are always ever changing,
As the skies are at sunrise.
And attitudes of those,
Who accuse others of a moodiness.
Are never consistent,
Or in a permanence that is totally set.
Being both flexible and able to bend,
Is the best outlook to have.
Especially if one is dealing with people...
Who are rigidly fixed in their judgements passed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Focus
focus
focus on god
focus on freedom
focus on forgiveness
focus on sweet speech
focus on treasures
focus on humility
focus on commitment
focus on mind
focus on success
focus on health
focus on healthy transformation
focus on goodness
focus on laughter
focus on fun
focus on angel
focus on sweetness
focus on wealth
focus
poem by Johnny Walks
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Typecasting Factor
There has been achieved,
The worst oil disaster in recorded history.
And with this accomplishment,
All eyes can see...
It will become extremely difficult,
To accuse others as being incompetent.
With a developed concept,
To implement as an instrument.
Running away from accountable responsibilities,
Had in the past been a priority used effectively.
But a duping with a hoodwinking successfully done...
Is today not that easily to inflict on minds to believe.
This disaster has a typecasting factor!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Changing Every Day
Someone says
Wake up child
And throw your life away
See you in the crime file
What will your mama say
Sometimes you get angry
No focus in your life
When people get hungry
They learn how to survive
Chorus:
Changing every day
Changing every day
Changing every day
Changing every day
Summer syncopation
The space between your eyes
Is a place for heroes
That never compromise
Sometimes you feel lonely
No focus or surprise
Pushed into production
What a way to live our lives
(chorus)
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Need Of An Audience
The ones with egos,
Seem to always bring their mysteries...
To be addressed.
With a massaging done constantly.
While those with credentials,
Appear to have less to express.
Bearing nothing with them to appease,
Or tease anyone to impress.
The ego driven,
Seem to wish their interests known.
These folks no one can just walk pass.
As those of true accomplishment,
Deliver their deeds with a speed to be believed.
To leave those who strut,
With pomp vacant of circumstance.
And feeding on a need for attention shown.
Overblown, overstaged and miscast.
Doers of accomplishments,
Never find themselves uncomfortable.
Not in environments where they are left alone.
Wherever they are,
They appear to be relaxed.
Almost as if they wish this to be condoned.
'I'm in need of an audience!
Where can I get an audience quick? '
Are the frantic fed panics of those with egos.
And making themselves sick.
With wishes to flap their lips a bit.
These thoughts are on the minds of those,
With a need to have their egos 'breathe'.
In a desperate unspoken desire to please.
In an approved acceptance they must solicit...
To feel themselves qualified.
Approved!
And undeniably received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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War is Boredom
War is Boredom
War is Boredom
War can be defined as long periods of boredom, short burst of terror, seemingly lasting forever, To those who are there, Waiting for another outburst, which never seems to cease.
You Pray, you count all your blessings, the outgoing not what you fear, its the incoming that can't be trusted.
War can be defined as boredom, for those who's life was spared, as the days in between that matters, on those who life spent there.
2008
poem by Charles Garcia
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Reactionaries
Ultraconservative reactionaries...
Politically correct with intentions set,
Can be often compared...
To children who do not listen.
Wishing to have their demands,
And requests met...
For whatever reason,
To appease a selfishness.
Just to get their way.
No matter how or who ultimately pays.
'It would be wonderful,
To get back to a basicness.'
Oh,
I do agree.
But the expensiveness of it,
Is now out of reach.
Even beggars on the streets,
Are complaining about the cost of keeping up...
With appearances.
Yesterday what they did was lucrative!
Today?
Those with degrees in engineering,
Are seeking them to be trained.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unconscious
I’m blind, I’m stubborn
I don’t need anybody else
But somehow, I don’t know
I’m unconsciously clinging for warmth
I’m tough, I’m strong
I could run my world alone
But somehow, I don’t know
I’m unconsciously clinging for attention
I want to go, I want to disappear
I don’t want to live in this world again
But somehow, I don’t know
I’m unconsciously clinging for hope
I’m filthy, I’m unworthy
Everybody calls me a sinner
But somehow, I don’t know
I’m unconsciously clinging for love
I’m fool, I’m hopeless one
All doors are closed for me
But somehow, I don’t know
I’m unconsciously clinging for dream
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Evasive
With a tight and nail biting grip...
They held onto the rails
Of the sinking ship known as Evasive!
And all on board,
Relied on it for generations
To guide them through shifting winds
And seas of trubulence often conquered.
Evasive was growing old and tired
Of charting courses it had taken for granted...
Although increasingly becoming more challenging,
With each mission undertaken!
The storms became more threatening...
And Evasive began to leak!
Showing signs of weakness ignored
By passengers entertained by tradition.
Those allowing themselves to ride along,
Under the influence of submission!
Granting a conceived 'vision' of strength
To delude them with a reliable reinforcement
That was rumored to be forthcoming!
Those secured on islands of thought...
Denied Evasive docking at their ports!
Many onboard sought 'new ports'...
For comfort and safe haven!
But...
Some of those who rode with a liberal colorblindness,
Could not see their pastures fading beneath their feet!
Too many demanded to command...
And their destinies became uncertain and bleak!
No one witnessed those who knew how to survive,
Leave them and their ways...
Leaping to shores of welcome
When the signs of discontent,
First began to rock Evasive
With a surf of lapping truth surging
And rising to defeat Evasive!
All shouted...'Stay the course of our journey'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Boredom, Some Words
Boredom: the desire for desires.
Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910)
when i get fed up and say i am quitting
it does not mean that it is the end of all these cravings
it is not.
when i shift my head to another direction like a ship changing course
it does not mean that i am leaving
this place
it is not
when i look at you with pity and tell myself what have i done
something that you do not really deserve
that which i myself does not too deserve
it does not mean that i am saying
i stop
it is not
it is not the end of everything it is but another endless beginning
desire that desires more of itself
cravings that crave for more cravings
it is eternity finding itself in eternity
this quest unstoppable
this thirst unquenchable
this self that always begins
insoluble imperishable
this is the boredom of the divine
this is the restlessness unto the rest of its restlessness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It is that of increasing knowledge of empirical fact, intimately combined with changing interpretations of this body of fact - hence changing general statements about it - and, not least, a changing a structure of the theoretical system.
quote by Talcott Parsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Repossess The Basicness Of Life
Separate 'things'
From your evaluation of happiness.
Repossess the basicness of life...
If you can remember how that time was spent.
The moment your were persuaded to abandon it,
For a chase to retrieve creature comforts...
Was the day you believed,
Your life was to live impressing others.
And your creditors are the ones left,
Who are least amused by your choices made.
Release this from the confines of your mind,
And decide to live.
Repossess the basicness of life.
Remove those restrictions you have imposed...
To feel deserving of an earned peace of mind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Last Place You Look
the grass is always greener as i'm sure that you've found
if i find my way back on the last leg of this trip
i'm betting i'm finding you there
as long as it's constantly changing
as long as it's constantly sound
if there's no sense of impending danger
there's no sense in hanging around for the winter
if i'm not gonna be in your arms around me...
what have i got if you're there?
we'll behome in December
the leaves don't fall from the trees as long
as you remember you are always with me
it's not my place to find it
not something that i get to choose
don't be scared 'cause you're not something i'm willing to lose
i'll bet you find it in the last place you look
song performed by by Get Up Kids from Four Minute Mile
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Time Given To Whine and Pass Their Judgements
What annoys me most,
Are those folks who instigate.
The ones who assess others,
As doing 'nothing' for them.
Or anyone else.
And they leave no trail of evidence,
Of any attempts they've made.
To initiate the doing of anything for themselves.
And quick they are to become angered,
If what others do does not focus with a priority.
A sacrificial giving,
To the ones sitting to mouth their complaints.
With time given to whine and pass their judgements.
While their behinds have cemented imprints upon chairs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Only Focus On The Money
When you go for the money,
You'll be selling your soul.
And when one goes for just the money,
The heart turns cold.
So don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
Bling is nice but there's more to life.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Open your mind with bright wide eyes,
To take a ride that will excite you.
With a view to greater heights.
So...
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
When you go for the money,
You'll be selling your soul.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't let your heart grow old and cold.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
So...
Don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
So...
Don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
So you just don't focus on the money,
Don't.
So you just don't focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
'I feel funny when I don't have any money.'
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't you only focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't keep your focus on the fact that you always stay broke.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't stay focused on the money,
Don't!
Don't keep your focus on the fact that you always stay broke.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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