Found To Find More Capable
If one has to be kept reminded,
Of what another has prioritized not to forget...
Perhaps the importance of what is shared,
Should be discussed with a caring done...
To determine which one,
Has enough of that left to spare.
Some people just nod their heads in agreement,
With other things on their minds...
Found to find more capable to entertain,
At selected chosen times.
And have grown accustomed to listening,
To what they regard as insignificant yet familiar noise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Within Cliques of Gossips
There are those programmed and convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
But when asked, none had close talks...
With the one claimed known.
And the one claimed known...
Had not a clue as to what was going on.
Other than the usual assumptions that take place,
Within cliques of gossips.
There are those who have created,
Lifestyles of others in their minds.
With sexual preferences believed known discussed.
With the goings on in the privacy of their homes,
And with whom they lust.
There are those programmed and self convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
Until they got the opportunity to meet them.
And then became quite upset...
That those they met,
Were quite different...
Than the people they had kept in their minds.
Only to find themselves,
Living too confined and behind fast times.
To leave a narrow perception of life,
Left to go unaddressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Closest Relatives
People hypnotized and transfixed,
Have grown more accustomed
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
So accustomed to myths,
People are.
And the praying to what is believed,
To what has been embedded
In their minds,
Exists.
People do not wish to be told,
About the thought process of Nature.
And how that goes.
Or about Earth and Mother Nature.
The relationship between them.
How that works and what they know.
People wish and desire to accept,
They are more powerful
Than that which 'allowed' them life,
And gave to them breath.
People reject with a dismissing of this,
That which gifted them and permitted their lives.
People have grown more accustomed,
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
Yet,
Give zero respect to their closest relatives.
The Sun, The Moon
And how together,
They affect their lives lived here on Earth.
People have chosen to become accustomed,
To ignoring as if they do not hear or listen.
Or are aware of them with comprehension.
People choose not to accept this as is.
People choose to believe from that which exist,
They are not born from it.
People choose for themselves to believe,
For them
There is no connection to perceive.
Even though what is they can not conceive,
Flows through their veins and bleeds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Forget About Me
Forget about me...
Forget the laughter we shared,
Forget how I look,
Forget the times we had fun,
Forget the memory's we shared,
Forget how I sound,
Forget the things I told you,
Forget the fact that I loved you,
Forget the love we shared,
Just forget who I am....
Act as if you don't know me....
poem by Veronica Nieves
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Lesson
Our love has chosen its appropriate gesture
Which when viewed in the midst of all the gestures
It didn't choose seems almost insignificant.
The gesture our love has chosen is appropriate
We both agree not that we have any choice but
Amidst all those others does seem insignificant.
Is it incumbent on us thus to therefore obliterate
All of the gestures except this insignificant one
Chosen by our love for its own no doubt reasons.
It is up to us to obliterate all other gestures
Though they cluster round thick as presentations
Of war and sacrifice in a gradeschool classroom.
Use of our love's chosen gesture for the obliteration
Of all those foreign gestures is forbidden however
We must find something else to erase them with.
Our love has chosen its appropriate gesture
Which when viewed in the absence of all other gestures
Seems to spell the opposite of insignificant.
poem by Bill Knott
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Stale and Cussed Filled Basements
There are those who had been nourished,
Based upon the looks of 'things'.
And not on quality or valued substance!
Familiar faces of those are compared to others.
Leaving deeds done ignored and undiscovered!
And as time goes by...
So comes with it the fading of 'things'!
An aging brings with it,
A change of outlook and accustomed habits!
And those who chose not to relate to 'this'...
Find the substance in their own lives,
Below an expected standard that exists.
Time does not address...
Who is or who is not,
Prepared for it to shift!
And those they thought they knew,
Go unknown to hide in shadows accepted.
And the saddest part of this revelation?
Most of them are related by blood.
In relationships gifted yet dismissed,
With an absence of kinship understood...
Or shared!
Or the caring of anyone aware of it!
No one seems to be at 'home'...
In their minds or anywhere!
And the few discovered that are?
Have never adventured into the attic.
To explore what maybe a treasure up 'there'!
Preferring to sit rusting with visions dusted...
In stale and cussed filled basements!
Expressing agitation.
And waiting to be rescued from darkened corners.
Insisting what they have chosen has not been welcomed!
With an ignorance applied that had once satisfied!
In denial!
Until sunlight comes with someone who knocks,
To crack open an unlocked door...
To expose them to one with wrinkled skin!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Whether Or Not You Are Honest With Me Now
You have allowed me to question your honesty,
For too long.
And for too long,
You have chosen to deceive.
Whether or not you are honest with me now,
Is not of an importance.
Not to me.
Nor will erase my apathy.
Or a priority that has increased,
To please my own needs.
With a total unconcerned,
About what it is you do.
Or caring less,
About what it is that is in the best of 'your' interest.
This is a fact.
Not an attitude.
For too long you have ignored my wellbeing.
With activities done by you to prove to me,
Your main objective,
Has been yourself.
And...
As times do change,
I have welcomed them.
You have allowed me to question your honesty,
For too long.
And for too long,
You have chosen to deceive.
Whether or not you are honest with me now,
Is not of an importance.
Not to me.
Nor will erase my apathy.
Or a priority that has increased,
To please my own needs.
I simply can not be stirred to excitement,
Over something that could have been shared...
By the both of us.
If you cared.
But you didn't.
And that...
You have made known as shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inventive Thinking And Creative Ways
How can something so vital,
And necessary to the growth...
Of the minds to advance the education,
Needed for today's children to compete...
Be not a focus of those revealed,
To be graduating with degrees.
With a stimulation done to their imaginations.
But...
A stimulation needed,
Is said to be essential...
To their creative thinking process?
A cheating on tests,
Has yet to prove beneficial.
And today...
People find it difficult to address,
That those with performing arts as their background...
Are found flipping burgers,
Or waiting on tables.
When those discovered to be incompetent,
Irresponsible and lack accountablility...
Can not read nor write.
Or recite what has been written.
And yet...
Are hired to perform tasks for corporations,
That now confess...
They seek people who can read, write...
Do the math, entertain, produce AND direct.
But left to find this pool of talent,
Overseas.
What is missing in the minds of those,
Selected to have the qualities...
That determines they are qualified to lead?
Impressive looks?
Or is it image?
And everything created that has succeeded,
Has come from the minds of those...
Innovative enough,
To make lives more lazier today...
By their inventive thinking and creative ways.
And it is difficult to compete,
With those consistently keeping...
Their minds fixed upon staying in rhythm,
And in tune with the beat of things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Left to Puff Up to Float
Some folks live,
To stay where they are.
Embracing their yesterdays...
To add their versions that ignites,
An excited wish...
To have those days relived,
As they are told.
The 'how-things-use-to-be' folks...
Swatting away flies from their molded stories.
From a stoop or a porch...
Or from a corner that is now paved,
Where they once played upon a dusty road.
There they stand proud and in the way,
Of someone on the move.
Someone passing through!
As they evaluate each step placed they take!
Discussing amongst themselves...
Whether or not they should approve.
And 'who' thinks they are,
Better than 'who'!
As they become distant from those...
Who have chosen to stay,
With their minds in times frozen and closed!
Recruiting young ones,
Impressed with their stagnation.
Those of similar kind and like minds,
Groomed to complain and whine...
About the current times they find.
Listening to embellished beliefs.
Leaving few taught,
That they should reach...
For their aspirations and dreams,
To become implanted.
For a flourishing tomorrow!
But as sorrows are shared...
A tomorrow for them,
Has yet to occur.
For them this awareness,
Has been for them intentionally blurred!
Or even the notion to live...
And be in the 'now' to stir a motivation!
But this implementation,
Is not a seed sown to harvest...
In minds fed on killer weeds!
Passed and expected,
To be received.
And so they too...
Are left to puff up to float,
Like the others!
To exclaim with their druthers...
How 'good' the stuff to them they get!
Just like 'how-things-use-to-be'...
Yesterday and those days before!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Main Focus And Purpose
Their main focus and purpose in life,
Is what's between somebody's legs.
Up their rear ends, in their mouths...
Size of chest, arms, thighs,
And caring less what is in their heads.
The outsourcing and downsizing done,
Effectively started with a dumbdowning first.
And for some reason,
The dysfunctions of the people have become prioritized...
As a way of perceiving themselves as normal 'creatures'.
With concerns as to who is straight giving that image,
And not one of them capable of providing proof...
A thought they have in their heads,
Originated as a result of their own initiative.
But quick they are to accept anything heard,
Or thrown in their faces as evidence that qualifies them...
As being no lost relative of Einstein.
Their noses are too smashed in the cracks,
Of other people's business.
So much so that trash has collected in stacks,
In their own homes.
With a cleaning of a stench that reeks as if,
Someone inside of it doesn't know a thing about hygiene.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Forget
Going out of one's way,
To discredit the deeds done by others...
To portray them with betrayals,
Mocked and displayed to jest...
Has these disadvantages:
God is always listening.
God is a Master at fixing things.
And God is quick to share,
With those who faithfully pray.
Removing deceivers and exposes truth...
For all to see,
Those who have created such falsities.
And eventually there is an exchanging of pain.
People forget,
Whose World this is.
People forget,
What they do is inspected.
And not just left,
To go undetected.
People forget,
Everything done they do is known.
People forget,
What goes down...
Comes back around like a yo-yo,
Going up and down affixed to a string.
People forget,
These things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Have Chosen to Mend and Heal
Even if I did have some time,
I'd make sure I had none,
For you.
Not a second would I spend,
Listening to you weep through...
Selected excuses.
While you rip apart my heart!
We're no longer kids on a swing,
Chasing each other around the playground...
After dark.
One of us refuses to grow up.
And the other is a sucker!
Trying to prevent another mothering.
Even if I did have some time,
I'd make sure I had none,
For you.
Not a second would I spend,
Listening to you weep through...
Selected excuses.
While you rip apart my heart!
What happened to your 'new' relationship?
The one you left me to start a 'serious' life with.
Isn't that what you said to me?
As both of you laughed,
To leave me pleading!
I don't have enough energy to despise you.
Nor am I the least bit curious.
Why you appear here and I am not furious.
Even if I did have some time,
I'd make sure I had none,
For you.
Not a second would I spend,
Listening to you weep through...
Selected excuses.
While you rip apart my heart!
I have chosen to mend and heal.
Not bend and kneel.
Remember how I did that and you laughed?
Those times with you,
Are in my past.
You taught me how to shiver and freeze.
And baby...
You will never see me thaw.
Even if you crawled and stopped breathing,
Instantly!
A melting would not take place.
That wouldn't happen.
What would?
A sealing of the windows and doors would be done.
And then I would turned off the lights.
With a whistling of a happy tune.
My cheeks,
Have been made raw...
From too much turning!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let's Keep It Between Us
by Bob Dylan
Let's keep it between us.
These people meddlin' in our affairs, they're not our friends.
Let's keep it between us
Before doors close and our togetherness comes to an end.
They'll turn you against me and me against you 'til we don't know who to trust.
Oh, darlin', can we keep it between us?
Let's keep it between us.
We've been through too much tough times that they never shared.
They've had nothing to say to us before,
Now all of a sudden it's as if they've always cared.
All we need is honesty, a little humility and trust.
Oh, darlin', can we keep it between us?
I know we're not perfect
Then again, neither are they
They act like we got to live for them as if there just ain't no other way
And it's makin' me kind of tired.
Can we just lay back for a moment
Before we wake up and find ourselves in a daze that's got us out of our minds?
There must be something we're overlooking here,
We better drop down now and get back behind the lines.
There's some things not fit for human ears, some things don't need to be discussed.
Oh, darlin', can we keep it between us?
They'll tell you one thing and me another
'Til we don't know who to trust.
Oh, darlin', can we keep it between us?
Let's keep it between us
Before it all snaps and goes too far.
If we can't deal with this by ourselves,
Tell me we ain't worse off than they think we are.
Backseat drivers don't know the feel of the wheel, but they sure know how to make a fuss.
Oh, darlin', can we keep it between us?
Can we keep it between us?
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Times Never Forgotten
Sometimes the best remedy,
That comes to assist one to heal quickly...
Is not the familiar 'cry-on-the-shoulder-kind'!
With a soothing of tears and a warm embrace.
Sometimes some cures are better done,
When that person is left alone.
To figure out how to deal,
With agony, pain and stress on their own.
And hopefully a going through the process...
Will increase an appreciation!
And perhaps the acknowledgement,
Of this is shown.
Sometimes this works!
And at other times...
Be on the alert!
Especially when those 'sometimes'
Most of the time...
Are those times never forgotten,
By the ones turned away the first time.
You know...
There are those times that come,
When 'some' people have none to spare!
To express an empathy or caring.
And we all will have those times,
When a comforting should have been extended.
And a selfishness not to listen...or pretend,
Reveals more than what had been intended.
And...
Even though a healing process does occur?
The hearing of it,
Never seems to end.
With reminders left to dig deep under the skin.
'WHY?
Why are you still harboring on that?
How long do you want me to apologize?
For the rest of my life? '
~I hadn't thought of that as an option.
Let me give that some thought!
Thank you for the suggestion.
I appreciate that.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Magnificent Outpouring
It is said that all the good things
Must come to him who can pretend
He doesnt have to wait
For as surely as the light of day
Must come to drive the night away
The needles and the pins
Thats where the line begins
With your magnificent outpouring
Of that old familiar story
Thats been used a million times
To ease a million minds
There are times when I have told you
That htere must be two of us
To try to work things out
But if I cant see you every day
Then I must hide my thoughts away
And see you when I can
And try to understand
With your magnificent outpouring
Of that old familiar story
Thats been used a million times
To ease a million minds
So let us treat our love likeany game
To fan the flames would really be a sin
For as surely as the snow must fall
I shall be waiting for your call
Pretending it is spring
And youll be mine again
With your magnificent outpouring
Of that old familiar story
Thats been used a million times
To ease a million minds
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In fact, there was general agreement that minds can exist on nonbiological substrates and that algorithms are of central importance to the existence of minds.
quote by Vernor Vinge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Minds of Those Like These
The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And on borrowed time,
They proceed to show themselves...
Out of their minds with a choice to grieve.
Incredible.
Incredible...
Wh at people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
Self seekers enforcing to impose their will,
For the purpose to fulfill...
The prophesy of their demise.
So unwise are they who do not pay attention.
So unwise are they who do not listen!
As they forge ahead,
In disbelief of what has been 'envisioned'.
Or comprehend words to them said.
As they forge ahead,
Strickened by positions...
That restrict their minds to limited conditions.
Incredible.
Incredible...What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And no tomorrows come to those,
Making attempts to dethrone and dispose...
Of truth and the existence of it,
Because they refuse to 'see'.
Instead of reacting emotionally,
To rapid revelations.
Programmed and delivered by the 'Deities'.
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
It is hard to believe,
How people live and they deceive!
It is hard to believe people who seek no remedy.
Incredible.
Incredible...
The minds of those like these.
Incredible.
Incredible...
The minds of those like these.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Drifting To Shift Away
We seem to have been always great.
With the feeding of this,
Throughout generations.
And accepting nothing less,
Served to us on an overflowing plate.
Room that left opportunities,
To become better...
Did not exist.
Many had no time for this to fit.
Since what we were in our minds,
Was a perfection to be envied.
And a way of life,
That was hard to resist!
With an easiness to define.
And...
Defend with quickness.
We seem to have been always great.
With no tolerance for others...
That did not equal,
Or emulate the image.
With an appeasing done,
To uphold those preferenced druthers...
The chosen and elite believed one needed to meet.
Or challenge,
To be selected for defeat!
And still,
To this very day...
We express, we do, our dissatisfactions!
Becoming dismayed...
Towards those who are different in custom.
And mannerisms diversed in ethnic actions displayed!
To perceive a greatness understood...
Should and could become strengthened from within.
But,
Then again...
To ignore and rid of constant discipline...
With no attention given to it or its importance,
Will eventually find concrete foundations...
Crumbling into quarreling divisions.
With a hated directed and mentioned,
On everyone's lips.
Shared until it bores from familiarity.
Leaving 'this' ideal of a greatness to sit.
Until the memory of it drifting to shift away,
From a purpose...
Any purpose.
Fades,
As if...
Every thought of greatness was no more than a myth!
Like a victim of a tragic coincidence observed..
But left unassisted with an interest vanishing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Who Made Choices
It is now a stinging,
That brings clear vision.
No favorites are protected...
As believed and once projected.
What one gives from the heart is returned.
If bitterness is inflicted...
Expect it to pay a visit!
There is no escape,
For those basking as if 'selected' ones.
Those who made choices...
In beliefs they are better than everyone!
Material gains can diminish in a minute!
Taking 'things' worshipped,
And leaving payments still unfinished!
Creditors without sympathy...
Only know that bottom line!
They want what is theirs...
Caring less who now whines!
With heads held high,
And with egos held even higher...
As people like these,
Now live in dire regret and remorse...
That clouds and transpires!
A course they chose...
To be separate from 'them' and 'those'!
As they sift through memories,
Hoping to find their minds....
While standing in lines,
For a meal and a change of clothes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Want To Know That You Will Munch
If it is going to be from me stated,
Not a syllable connected...
Has been chosen in haste.
I do not intend to waste time.
Neither yours or mine.
Throwing anything together,
To satisfy a taste.
I don't want you just to nibble.
I want to know that you will munch.
If I find there is something important to say,
And I regard you as an important receiver?
I am not going to select anything quickly,
To pick and appease what I believe,
Will be acceptable to your taste.
I am not that kind of chef.
To deliver less than my best
If what I say is important enough to say to you,
That importance I show to you I wish to keep.
I want you to expect each time a feast from me.
And if that is not believed...
I have no other way to convince.
Other than to ignore you.
And I perceive you have been already,
Accustomed to that.
Or you wouldn't be so offended,
By the closeness of my approach.
Or my willingness to remain attached.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nothing Left To Do To Be Done
No one voices their opinion,
Until an escalation of an ending begins.
And they make a collective noise then,
As if what is said should make sense and is heard.
Yet,
Disorderly conduct is all that is observed.
And those who came to warn them of misgivings...
Leave this scene without a mumbling word.
There is nothing left to say.
Nothing left to do to be done...
In a way that stayed obeyed!
So they lower their heads and pray.
Choosing to take their peace of mind,
And walk away while there is still time.
Some folks use their trivialities...
As if these are what is wished to find,
As a gold mine.
A self reflection had not visited their minds.
And that is the discovery of this sadness,
Had and has reached its full!
They choose to leave behind.
A higher consciousness to those promised...
Has been witnessed from them to be dismissed.
And ruined 'gifts' are left to sit,
And shared in disrespect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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