Flavor and The Taste Of What One Awaits
Those discouraged to grow and flourish,
Will reflect upon the environment represented.
And those who bemoan these conditions,
With no participation given to reverse these affects...
Will discover the senselessness of playing catchup,
When the very basic connection of life has been missed.
There has to be a consistent conscious effort,
Applied constantly...
From a naturalness that thrives and exists.
Or it is not going to happen no matter who insists,
What needs to be strickly enforced...
When that effort of daily discipline,
Has all but been dismissed from the mix of this!
Can a cake be made without flour,
Sugar.
Butter or heat?
Procrastination with impatience to achieve great expectations,
Is similar to plagiarising efforts made by another...
But finding it difficult to sustain an originality gained and maintained.
With a hope no one notices a brilliance introduced,
Is missing and has been as time marches on!
The flavor and the taste of what one awaits is gone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mediocrity Is Not An Effort That Succeeds
I do not pursue a challenge with you.
No.
Not at all.
I am on a quest,
To outdo 'my' best!
And having me to critique,
My own efforts made...
I wouldn't wish this kind of pressure,
On anyone else.
You should hear some of the things I say!
I am too forgiving of others' attempts.
And much too strict...
When accepting what I believe,
Is a commitment to achieve...
What I deem for myself as 'sheer' mediocrity.
And mediocrity is not an effort that succeeds.
Not for me as a motivator,
Pushing towards a direction that pleases.
It is for me an acceptance of procrastination.
And I have already given myself accolades for that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On occasion we need to make a second effort - and a third effort, and a fourth effort, and as many degrees of effort as may be required to accomplish what we strive to achieve.
quote by Thomas S. Monson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Efforts to Enlighten These Charity Cases
Life is made a lot easier,
If one is on a side of it that dictates...
A reality that nature brings.
And we spend some time,
In the comprehension of it.
And still there are those,
Who make daily attempts...
In the defense of their perceptions.
With a stubborn-ness to enforce them,
On what has been accepted as reality.
Life is made a lot easier,
If one is on a side of it that dictates...
A reality that nature brings.
And we spend some time,
In the comprehension of it.
But many have no connection to life,
On that level.
Many have not been blessed,
To be challenge or tested to fail.
Or to have the experience,
Of being alone with grief.
And healing from its affects.
But many have no connection to life!
Not on that level.
And those who do...
Seem to be required to have more patience.
As if sacrificing throughout one's life,
Is not enough of a donation made...
In the support already given,
With continuous strenuous efforts...
To enlighten these charity cases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easy Made Cake
Easy made cake...
Doesn't taste,
Homemade.
An easy made cake...
Doesn't taste,
Homemade.
Or does it age...
Like a fine wine.
Made from grapes,
Picked and saved...
Off of a selected vine.
Easy made cake...
Doesn't taste,
Homemade.
Or have a flavor staying,
In one's mind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Allow me to decide the course of my life
Allow me to decide the course of my life
He was a bit bulky little boy
Finding it difficult to get up
And walk on his own
When we, as parents, helped him
To get up and walk
He used to sweep aside
Our helping fingers
So that he could move around
On his already hurt bruised knees
He made at last his first step
When a tri-wheeler walk-aid
Was presented to him
Its colourful handle
With chiming bells hanging
Charmed him to put forth efforts
Towards walking
It was indeed a scene to witness
The struggle of that little cute baby boy
To walk on his own
It was a pleasure to watch him grow
Physically, mentally and emotionally
It was to my pride
That I hear often that
Elders appreciate his polite, gentle
And well groomed manners
He hardly complained
Probably, adjusting within himself
With the environment he is in
I had no occasion
To discipline him
As most often he was
Well conforming to our expectations
Now he stands taller than me
In every aspect
Walking in youthful gait
I need to raise my face
Whenever I talk to him
He is in the process of
Making a living
As very normal Indian parents
We started looking for
A suitable life partner for him
Assuming him to have understood
That we have a role in that
As per my observation
He reacted for the first time
With a firm invincible response to say
Allow me to decide the course of my life
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Oh Those Cookies Made
You hooked me with your looks,
And also cooking, 'bay-bee'.
Your speciality is baking sugar cookies, 'bay-bee'.
And a tasting of your cookies,
Is my favorite crave...
I rush to get to savor.
Because the flavor makes them great...
I've lost my patience to wait.
Oh your cookies made,
Are the best I've ever savored.
Yes your cookies made.
Is a taste that can't get better.
Oh...
Those cookies made,
Are fun to munch in any weather.
Yes,
Those cookies made.
Your cookies made.
Oh...
Oh your cookies made,
Are the best I've ever savored.
Yes your cookies made.
Is a taste that can't get better.
Oh...
Oh those cookies made,
Are fun to munch in any weather.
Yes,
Those cookies made.
Your cookies made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Better Efforts
What I do for you that comes from me,
Will be done with a doing...
To achieve my best effort.
Regardless of how that effort once done...
Becomes interpreted.
Just know this...
I am hoping you give to me,
More opportunities to improve...
With a doing to give even better efforts,
Than my last.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Displeased With Their Own Enforced Activities
Uniting to rid themselves,
Of those people they disliked...
Has found them surrounded with incompetence.
And no one innovative enough,
To know what motivating initiative takes.
Someone amongst them,
Has to formulate an agenda.
And the one who campaign,
To remove discipline and a needed structure...
That had one time produced direction,
Is the first to complain that time and effort...
Is too much of a sacrifice to make things right.
But it had been alright in their narrow mindsights,
To backstab and backbite...
Those who thought nothing of sacrificing their lives,
With a determination to benefit all of their needs.
And this is the plight,
A socially ignorant environment leaves!
People eventually become displeased,
With their own enforced activities!
And finding someone outside of themselves,
To place blame becomes a priority.
With no advancement!
And nothing but excuses exchanged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Light of Life
We come to live.
Not to follow as shadows.
We come to reflect...
The best of efforts.
To glow in the giving of respect.
We are here to influence this experience.
In support of others.
Not to distort their paths.
Or bestow upon their journeys...
Obstacles we inject!
We need not wish,
For these acts to be done.
To selfishly benefit!
When eventually...
There is none!
We are individually energized.
All of us are,
By the rays from the Sun.
To appreciate everyone's gifts given!
Not try to take away.
But share, grow and obey.
That which within us is divinely sent.
Minds to adventure.
Not to despise and hide in devilment.
To deceive to end in shadows...
Alone to grieve.
We come to live.
Not to follow as shadows.
We come to reflect...
The best of efforts.
In deeds that are sewn,
To produce an increased 'betterment'.
Making this known as it is shown.
Not to suffer from our deceits.
In belief there comes a gain maintained.
When tears from our eyes produce nothing,
But rain.
And overflowing suffering sustained!
We come to live.
Not to follow as shadows.
To discover too late...
When our 'lights' are turned out,
That darkness awaits our fate.
And that experience...
Is seldom in need of replication!
Dedicated darkness,
Has its own agenda!
And only then do we seem to get the message.
Taught in a silence.
Yet 'missed' when given the light of life!
That should excell in the dedication of growth!
But greed has fed us into blindness!
Behind which we...
Allow ourselves to follow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Preferring to Complain, Eat, Play Games and Sleep
Things will be said about the one once ignored.
The one once a joke,
And providing laughing fodder...
To those who fidget.
Saying there is 'nothing' to do!
And life to them bores.
With attempts made to improve their lives...
Very few of them even bother.
But this does not happen,
To those deemed and perceived...
Least likely to succeed.
The ones living quietly in communities,
And discreetly applying their seeds to achieve.
Perceiving to 'do' is 'to' follow through and receive.
Setting the example,
Is likened to biting into a pail of nails.
In some places...
Where folks are accustomed to applauding failure.
And setbacks are welcomed by those laying the traps!
It seems to happen to those,
In acceptance of themselves.
Believing they can do anything!
And accomplish like no one else.
No matter what the circumstances.
People like this seem to have a determination.
Like flowers reappearing to dare to bloom brighter,
Every Spring!
As if to prove a point that is made.
Regardless of what the naysayers bring to the table.
These folks seem to qualify their own abilities!
Since to accomplish means to them...
What one does with one's mind.
Not a place to find where this can be done.
Or seek to fulfill a mediocrity,
Like everyone in an environment...
Where excuses are made.
And alibis the 'disease'.
And a thought process for many,
Seems to have stalled in potential.
Surrounded by an abundance of it.
To proclaim!
But the potential has yet to become essential.
It's just in conversation to exclaim.
With a doing of it yet given an opportunity to use.
And those seen in pursuit...
Are immediately sought to ridicule and abuse!
Yes this 'is' sick!
And done daily by vocal nitwits!
Things will be said about the one once ignored.
The one once a joke,
And providing laughing fodder...
To those who fidget.
Saying there is 'nothing' to do!
And life to them bores.
But this does not happen,
To those deemed and perceived...
Least likely to succeed.
The ones living quietly in communities,
And discreetly applying their seeds to achieve.
And ironically...
This activity one has sought to pursue,
Isn't that unique!
But a work ethic applied to tasks to complete...
Seems oddly a challenge many unaccepting.
As seen by those who roam on urban streets.
Many have come to fear to dislike and not endear...
The definition of work or the time spent to sacrifice.
Mention this...
And they will soon disappear!
But adopting quick to devisive devices...
No one fears this at all!
Preferring to complain...
Eat, play games and sleep.
With a shopping stop made,
Daily at a local mall.
Like an expected routine.
Kept as sacred,
As the connection of life has to breath.
No matter if the act of that...
Has least importance than one's credit.
'They seem to take a lot for granted here.
Don't they? '
~I have no idea.
Do they?
I have things to do to get done.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Selected Popularity
It relates to one's taste.
A selected popularity,
Along with a marketing that takes place.
Quick fads and that which has potential to last,
Requires a quality that time gives it.
And how it fits in one's environment.
One's perception of what is popular,
May evolve from a custom that has been updated.
And this becomes associated with time,
That eventually places a value to popularize.
And raises the price of the money spent.
A similar analogy can be applied to human beings.
It doesn't matter where an originality has been taken,
To forge or plagiarize with precise manipulation.
What matters is its presentation.
And who is accustomed to being fed,
On a series of reproductive mediocrity delivered.
With attempts to disguise,
A copying done from masters of their crafts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unified Pursuits
Now that many are awakening,
To see how reality connects and works.
They are wishing to contact those dismissed,
For not being this or that.
And being considered in that past,
As those without identity with a calling them jerks.
And their activities had no connection,
To those living in distressed communities!
Or not being 'real' when efforts they made,
Were ignorantly in need of attack as then perceived.
Times have a way of changing all that!
Now that eyes have been opened wide,
Those caught up in their 'new' discovered truths...
Are curious why those dismissed,
Have no interest in participating in their 'unified' pursuits.
Or retracing...
Those dismissed steps,
They have long ago left!
With a 'Best Wishes' on their peaceful breaths.
And showing not a sign or a hint of regret.
In fact, there is a happiness revealed they reflect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effort
It takes initiative.
Sometimes unrelenting...
To accomplish a task,
From the beginning to end.
And there are times,
What one has chosen to do...
May be too much loved,
To ever give up to walk away.
With motivation, purpose and direction,
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And initiative with sacrifice 'and' devotion...
May require dedication for the rest of one's life.
Depending on how deeply one is determined and affected.
No matter how easy or hard it may look,
From the outside looking in.
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And initiative with sacrifice 'and' devotion.
With that set in motion,
Few people could careless how they are perceived.
Knowing blood, sweat and many tears,
May never be subjected to leave.
Oh yes...
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And with that set in motion,
In the heart of one devoted...
Few doing this could careless,
How they are perceived by the rest.
It takes an effort that will be tested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nothing Less Than Sweat With Stress
An effort made is rewarded,
After a stumbling comes...
And has been done,
It seems for some.
One who has seen and known failure,
Prevails.
With dreams revealed,
Eventually after being demeaned.
Regardless of who assails those aspirations.
To inflict havoc upon one's dreams.
Methods to achieve success,
Are not sketched in notepads...
In strategic steps to produce happiness.
Nothing less than sweat with stress...
Can one say,
Has paved the way...
To those dreams one realizes,
That come to materialize one day.
Effort is rewarded,
After a stumbling comes...
And has been done,
It seems for some.
And nothing less than sweat with stress...
Can one say,
Has paved the way!
And materializes after initiative has been applied.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Hope (a fourteener)
Hope flourishes as flower which, when watered, nurtured, sprouts -
but first seed must take root in garden free from shady doubts.
mind's probing fingers, working, plucking weeds that stunt, consume;
strip hazards from environment so seed of Hope can bloom.
while some say Hope's perpetual and grows e'en without seed,
won't falter - feast or famine - and can withstand dirty deed.
I think more so Hope grows where effort made has clearly shown
that Faith was planted justly and then - Hope - the harvest grown.
Hope feeds upon a memory of expectations met,
where struggles as a seedling then grows larger, stronger yet.
And bow-tied with a ribbon, Hope becomes a gift still more -
for Hope as gift soon shape-shifts until Faith stands at the door.
yet caution wise to realize that Hope, when falsly gained
as dissapointment underlies; Faith/Hope fails - none retained.
let application/ action then help Hope become a tree,
the end result - a gift to self - instilled in me by me.
111909
poem by Terri Turrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never Given A Chance To Happen
It would have made a difference,
If those experienced and willing...
To volunteer their time,
To secure the cementing of foundations...
Were regarded as friends.
And not threats to suspect of wanting,
To flaunt special attention given.
It would have made a difference,
If those who had nothing...
Accepted someone with something to give,
As a benefit to the environment.
With an advantage for all.
Instead of someone to ignore...
Defaming with a smearing campaign,
In a hope to see them fall.
It would have made a difference,
To the ones who now...
Have surrounded themselves,
In surmounting conflicts...
Creating their mental and physical ailments.
It would have made a difference,
If mindsets were connected...
To a discipline respected.
It would have made a difference,
But that difference...
Was never given a chance to happen.
It would have made a difference,
If opportunities presented...
Were recognized.
It would have made the difference!
But it didn't!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disgust With Rust Ignored
Removing tarnish from symbolic images,
Takes an effort motivated by discipline.
And beliefs a quality within them exists.
To demand this be done,
Without benefit to everyone.
Heightens disgust with rust ignored.
And invites a crushing done...
By those who no longer adore,
Being treated as if...
Their efforts can be dismissed.
And the gleam on symbolic images...
Can show they have a glow all their own.
When the proof of that has not been shown,
To those who once had pride...
Believing their ambitions and lives,
Had meaning more than the gleaming of things!
And those valued 'things'
Come crumbling down to the ground.
With no one around expressing concern.
Except those left with unimpressive pretensions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Say Manure! That Will Stick!
They are killing the police,
Over dog urinations.
That is the latest commentary,
To depict a nation...
Fed on fantasy and degradation.
But of course this influence,
Has had its beginnings dipped...
In a lack of strict discipline.
When it was believed that sparing the rod,
Would not produce thoughtless and reckless
Children who grew...
To be caring women and men!
Who knew?
Did you?
Folks worship their pets,
First,
Then God next.
Scurring off to grooming shows...
Spending tons of money,
Just to see an animal strike a human pose.
To get a ribbon or a trophy bestowed.
To say today folks are sick,
With priorities of nonsense...
At the top of their list.
Doesn't need the brilliance of a poet,
To sit and write about it.
Although it aids the creative mind with a 'lift'!
This madness is all over the place.
And one does not need to rely on brilliance...
To unmistakably know this,
This...
I'm seeking the right word!
'Say manure!
That will stick! '
I think you're right!
And one does not need to rely on brilliance...
To unmistakably know,
This 'manure' exists!
With a stench that pollutes a senselessness,
That affects with a seriousness every continent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their effort to place the women upon the same industrial level with themselves in order that all may pull together in the effort to maintain reasonable conditions of life.
quote by Florence Kelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Duels Between Thieves
Duels between thieves,
Eventually have to happen.
A source to go where thefts are made,
To ensure quality craved maintains its taste...
Does not sustain itself,
When thieves are not focused on originality.
Thieves have none!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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