From Their Perch On Fences
It can become such a foolish waste...
To chase someone who gets things done.
With a hope for a clue,
That will reveal a preview.
Complete with blueprinted details,
And freed of obstacles as this is overviewed.
Folks on a mission...
Aren't out making announcements.
Not for attention or steps taken to blurt.
They are conditioned with discipline.
And challenged to do something,
With their lives experienced here on Earth.
Whether or not they deserve praise...
Isn't an issue they themselves raise.
They are motivated to accomplish!
That is why most people like this,
Are often thought of to be crazed!
And often are...
Dismissed.
And many of them seem quickly evaluated,
To be out of their minds.
And unrestricted by set limits...
Others find comforting to hide securely behind.
Like a pretense some embrace,
They have no traces of abnormalcy!
With lots of company defending their 'common sense' with them.
While finding themselves to be commonly undecisive...
As they join others of similar desires,
Clinging and straddling...
With approved mindsets,
Sitting to discuss their opinions.
Like an image of a row of Crows,
Who judge squawking.
Noisely!
From nearby trees.
Or from their perch on fences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Crazed Are Some Programmed Mindsets
Giving of myself, talents and time,
Use to be an easy thing for me to do.
I didn't mind it.
I found in doing so it was enjoyed.
Until I discovered my efforts being taken for granted.
And I stopped feeling grateful to give my stuff away.
'Assuming' what I had done was appreciated.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
I then began to notice people,
Believing to be doing me the favor...
To share in the wasting of my time!
Thinking of me to be perceive as selfish.
And 'if' I had not given my best,
They wouldn't have known me at all.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
Today as I come to think about this,
I give them less of my best.
And of me it is thought I seek their attention.
That's how people into themselves think.
Until they are shown,
Doors that have been permanently closed.
And ignored are those with turned up noses.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
And their lack of consciousness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without Knowledge Or Skills To Address
Would others judge so quickly,
If they were selected and picked...
To be gifted with intelligence?
And expected to provide evidence of it.
On a regular basis.
With nothing else to do,
But to prove it and not disappoint.
And those who are depicted that way,
Seem only motivated to a comprehending of life.
With a listening to achieve understanding.
Hoping that a discipline to accomplish dreams...
Does not continue to depict them,
As lucky when something done that they do...
Is given an attention.
While others seek with a hoping,
That their physical attributes warrants...
A getting of some attention that is mentioned too!
Afterall...
Isn't it how one looks and not what one does,
That achieves everlasting success...
Without knowledge or skills to address?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Private Conversation
When I accepted,
To take a mission I was given...
It was in private conversation,
And the information 'mine'.
When I was told those obstacles,
Would be my own to remove...
Others thought I needed help,
And they brought judgements...
And 'their' rules.
But...
This was my own ambition,
And my mission.
I had brought ammunition,
To complete my own deeds.
This was my own ambition,
And my mission.
Although...
Those who offered their critique,
Thought their steps would hinder me.
Those who offered their critique...
Not a clue they knew that I had keys.
When I accepted,
To take a mission I was given...
It was in private conversation,
And the information 'mine'.
When I was told those obstacles,
Would be my own to remove...
Others thought I needed help,
And they brought judgements...
And 'their' rules.
Those who offered their critique...
Not a clue they knew that I had keys.
Those who offered their critique...
Not a clue they knew that I had keys.
Those who offered their critique...
Not a clue they knew that I had keys.
This was my ambition and my mission.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conditioned That Money Should Be Prized
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
With the use of color of their skins,
Light in complexion or dark as night...
Their minds with insights may be encased in,
The mentalities fed are to use this as a weapon,
To defend or ignite one's bigoted and racist appetite.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
And those who champion the marketing of images,
Aren't going to consciously reflect true beauty...
As it should be.
Beauty will be selective.
And chosen as a commodity.
To sell to those impressed,
And depress with suppression...
Those weakened through enforcing a belief!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
Of course they are going to feel subservient,
From birth until their lives end!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Those who get and hoard it best,
Will have others believe...
Their minds are at rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sitting Upon Fences
There is something being presented
That clearly separates from the truth.
It doesn't have to be spoken.
It is observed and felt.
Something is disconnecting.
And it is okay that it leaves and goes away.
It conflicts with higher consciousness.
And those on the threshold of it,
See and feel the difference...
Between reality and pretense.
And those who are deluded...
Are observed living lives,
Absolutely making very little sense.
And yet they believe they hide their intentions...
By keeping themselves exposed,
While sitting upon fences imposing their denseness
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Have You Ever Done That Before?
Your 'things' do not make you a better human being.
You may believe they establish you a status.
But there is something that can be said about pretense...
That leaves those hungering to spend their time,
With people who express a common sense...
From thought producing minds.
It is a rarity to find folks,
Who have not been tainted or provoked...
By teased materialistic dreams.
Or the kind of people who become identified...
By where they live and what they drive.
Living a quality of life that seems delightfully contrived.
Yet inside of them there is a frightful hollowness...
That is silently screamed,
And quietly demeaning them.
Your 'things' do not make you a better human being.
And their absence,
Also has not revealed you possess an integrity.
With your identity gone packed away with your 'things'...
And no integrity left you can display or bring,
What is it that you claim you can give to offer?
Superficiality?
Okay...
And,
What else do you have besides that?
Do you have anything we can chew on that's concrete?
How about a conversation we all can contribute.
Have you ever done that before?
Had you considered comprehending after listening,
To complete sentences...
Delivered to your assuming ears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visitor
Honestly?
You asked for my opinion,
And here it is for free!
Anyone can say what they want.
And process what they want to share.
I've learned over the years,
To keep my business to myself...
And not let my business become 'theirs'.
Folks who have a different reality,
That's fine...
It may not be mine.
Wherever their minds are,
That's on them...
I keep my mind away!
I'm not going to stay around anyone,
Making attempts to be accepted...
By choosing right words to say!
I enjoy my life and where it is right now.
And that was a long time coming.
I take my time listening to the birds...
And sometimes with them I'm humming!
I appreciate the little things,
And observe again what was passed by!
When I talk to someone in conversation...
I look them in the eyes.
I don't disrespect anyone with neglect,
By looking away or up to the sky!
That kind of treatment is worse than telling a lie!
And from those kinds of people...
I do my best to hide!
I've learned to have fun,
And sometimes by myself.
I don't have to be in a crowd of folks...
To feel important or laugh at bad jokes.
And honesty comes first with me.
Someone who doesn't give it is instantly dismissed!
I don't waste my time with pretense or self indulgence.
Or kiss up to anyone to be part of someone's clique!
And if I show myself in disguise,
Wearing a mask that does not fit!
I want it known,
I am either not feeling well...
Or around those that are making me sick!
And...
That's not a habit I would normally condone.
That is why affairs like these I'd rather leave alone!
'Oh?
So I take it you are a visitor,
And not from around this area?
I must get back to mingling with my friends.
Thank you for your observations!
You never know...
We might meet again! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Scarecrow People
Hope you enjoyed your flight,
In one of our new straw aeroplanes,
Youll find things here are just like what youre used to.
Theres lots of waste and razor wire,
And no one gives a damn about the land,
We just stand around and stare like you folks do.
For we aint got no brains,
And we aint got no hearts,
Its just that wild old wind that tears us all apart.
Were the scarecrow people,
Have we got lots in common with you.
And if you dont start living well,
Youre all gonna wind up scarecrow people too.
Hope you enjoyed your meal,
Its only gas and chemicals,
We thought that youd prefer something not nature made.
Now while youre here can you advise us,
On a war wed like to start,
Against some scarecrows over there, a different shade?
For we aint got no brains,
And we aint got no hearts,
Its just that wild old wind that tears us all apart.
Were the scarecrow people,
Have we got lots in common with you.
And if you dont start living well,
Youre all gonna wind up scarecrow people too.
We dont have no tears here,
No one hopes or cares or fears here,
For the old, the sick, the poor and them what taint you.
We thought wed base our civilization upon yours,
cause youre the smartest animals on earth, now aint you?
We dont have no love here,
Theres no need to rise above here,
No one wants to write a book or try to paint thee.
We thought wed base our civilization upon yours,
cause were all dead from our necks up, now aint we?
And we aint got no brains,
And we aint got no hearts,
Its just that wild old wind that tears us all apart.
Were the scarecrow people,
Have we got lots in common with you.
And if you dont start living well,
Youre all gonna wind up scarecrow people too.
And I aint got no brains,
And I aint got no heart,
Its just them other humans tear my soul apart.
Im a scarecrow person,
Have I got quite some message for you.
For if we dont start learning well,
Were all gonna wind up scarecrow people too!
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Horse
Do you know who you are?
That is a good sign.
So many don't!
And I am sure by now,
You are not surprised by this.
Do you know your capabilities?
Even those who have spent years...
And mommy and daddy's money,
Partying in the finest colleges...
Will never figure that one out!
They have been 'assigned'
To seek good paying jobs!
Not minds to independently think.
IF you have been accused of 'thinking'...
At least 'everything' didn't end up,
Confused in your head.
Your heart is involved!
No one has to tell you what your potential is!
You know.
Do you know your desires?
What heats you up...
Chills you out and douses your fire?
Many are on prescription drugs...
And scheduled therapy sessions for that.
They haven't the slightest clue.
They are counting on someone else,
To show them the way.
Tell them what to do.
But you?
What does it matter what a stranger thinks?
Or who says what?
Common sense has already spoken.
And you have known...
Everyone who lives,
Does so to eliminate 'something' that stinks!
Speculation may be a good thing.
And used by those you go to casinos.
However...
Speculating over who says what,
About what it is you should or should not do...
Still will not get you to where you know you are going.
That's 'if' you have a need to go anywhere.
And if that is not a need of yours...
Do all the speculation you want.
You will have lots of company.
And the odds will not be in your favor.
There will be too many opinions.
And you will be left spending a lifetime deciding,
Who you are.
Why you exist.
And for 'whom' your decision wins a bet!
Be that 'dark horse'.
And catch everyone by surprise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm New at This
A robust return to a 'then' that has diminished...
Complete with backyard barbecues,
And Sun drenched bathers.
Sitting along the family pool,
That's fenced in and envied...
By binocular using neighbors.
Can now be considered as historical occurrences...
Of a time when plastic reigned.
And good credit was an interpretation,
Of a bank that has closed.
With executives overqualified to flip burgers.
While those too poor to step through doors,
Without being escorted out by security guards...
Now find themselves annoyed by those complaining,
About what they don't have and the difficulties experienced...
Trying to feed themselves on foodstamps.
'You're kidding?
Well...
I'm one of those 'useless' welfare people.
Perhaps the one standing at the end of this line,
Will find your comments more interesting.'
~OH!
I'm sorry.
I'm new at this! ~
'Making announcements will not make a difference.
If you follow this line about 3 or 4 blocks...
You 'might' discover the end of it!
And...
Don't worry about it.
This gets old very quickly!
As well as those degrading insults.
You know...
Like the 'go-back-to-Africa comments?
Most of us have been living in a jungle for years!
Hope you enjoy the 'safari'.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suspicious Are Those With Wicked Wishes
There is nothing more disturbing,
Than someone observed...
Espressing joy and happiness.
For no apparent reason.
And those on drugs,
Have a certain appearance.
While those alcoholic,
Have eyes clouded in denial.
Those natural high lifers,
Are often thought of to be crazed.
Or completely detached from reality.
And today this amazes those distracted by it!
How often is it that one is seen,
Smiling and content?
And absolutely self abuse free.
While attracting attention AND comments.
Has a rehabilitation been the cause of this sensation?
Something of a discipline has occurred.
With a vibrancy that expresses verve.
How encouraging!
And this takes nerve.
Suspicious are those with wicked wishes.
'Oh...
They 'have' to be doing something more than nothing!
Because too much attention they bring to it! '
And discipline and self respect,
Are the last things loose lips digest in minds to accept!
With an evilness projected.
And leaving those 'bugs' that fly up their asses,
To camp out in a permanent residence.
Although finding it unsafe to stay there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into Themselves
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
It becomes increasingly difficult,
To support and defend...
Those like them.
They are not molded with backbone,
Another could depend.
Fence sitters undecided,
With a self esteem dismissed.
Often are destructive to progress...
With a delaying of it.
And direct they are not.
Deceivers they tend to be.
With a seeking of attention...
To stop a process intended,
That will expose their activity...
Lacking in accountability!
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
Or the need they have to embellish,
From the shadows where they hide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Over The Years
Over the years,
And facing to address my obstacles...
There had been a few people,
Who rumored me to be...
A fool to be laughed at.
Among others things,
They chose to add at my expense.
'God don't like ugly!
Remember that, Larry.'
My mother would say this,
As if her mission was to raise...
And nurture saints!
And for some reason,
I took a special interest in this.
Not to prove I wasn't foolish.
Or enjoyed to experience something new.
But to see who actually believed their perceptions.
And how many amongst them today,
Have discovered themselves complete idiots...
With stupidity that had attracted some to pursue.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Kinds Of Branding To Label Traps
Do I have a 'Doctorate's Degree? '
No!
Nor is my approach and methods to learning,
Certifiably accepted by those approved...
Who do have such credentials.
But I am blessed to observe,
And connect with a consciousness...
I did not earn to be professed.
Or be one labelled as a scholar,
To prove a thought process within me that yearns.
And not a book do I read that has helped me achieve,
A common sense.
With experience and a willingness to learn,
Has assisted in the documenting...
What may be perceived as an approved 'Ivy Leaguer'.
I could not afford,
To waste my resources...
On those kinds of branding to label traps.
I've been saved from living my life,
Limited to impress others like that.
And nothing I believe in,
Has been certified to be classified...
With stamps of approval to identify as controlled.
To maintain standards beheld to uphold to teach...
A releasing of comprehension that limits one's attention span.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Sitting Around Waiting to Be Examined
Folks who wish they knew more about others and don't...
Say those like this are 'complicated'.
Nothing is complicated about someone who lives an active life.
Folks find them 'complicated' for this reason...
They are not sitting around waiting to be examined.
Although they may be gossiped about...
Very few of them are living lives with issues!
And if they do...
They seem to move on with them being handled.
Without communal get togethers.
On the other hand,
Folks who claim to know what's going on...
Will say they are not interested in politics.
But can tell you who did what to who and when,
Next door and down the block.
Their noses aren't going to travel too far!
That wouldn't be to the best of their interest.
And self indulgence is their main priority.
People on missions to get things done,
Are not in one place to be observed.
And they aren't living to receive acceptance.
They are here to achieve.
Not bleed another heart!
Or found huddled in groups,
Prepared to victimize one of their own kind.
For being disliked.
So disliked that person can not be ignored.
That person has to be agitated into conflict!
Unfortunately,
There aren't too many people like these.
People on the move...
With things to get accomplished.
Things they want to get done and do.
Those 'programmed' to be far less complicated!
And quick to ruin themselves.
And their quality of life...
By not paying attention to the decline of it!
Leave evidence and facts of that in abundance!
And they are hopeful President Obama produces a magic wand!
~He 'needs' to produce,
A Department to Combat the Onset of Mental Diseases.
And their long range affects on a programmed mindset! ~
That title is too long.
They are already accusing him of being too intelligent.
For a Black man...that is!
Even under a microscope,
They are trying to uncover his flaws.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Necessities To Please
People are trying to find ways
To identify themselves.
They try to find it through preferences of sex.
Even purchases of 'things'
To hide their perplexed minds
Behind something another might view,
As a status symbol to preview!
To allow excuses and alibis to sneak through.
Allegations of who is and who is not straight today...
Seems so unimportant and quite blasé!
Molestations are taking place,
In more sanctuaries sacred...
Where more than symbolism is displayed.
The bold and naked seems to be a must,
Folks are lusting.
People are trying to find ways
To identify themselves.
With a worship for more greed,
And necessities to please the eyes of others!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pastimes
Fixed in place to market escapes,
And entertain with distractions.
Pastimes divert to deviate numbed minds.
Collective mindsets daydream of holidays.
Days off and vacations with pay.
Await patiently to negotiate opportunities,
To become officially lazy and approved.
Pastimes are expensive to initiate.
And advocate dysfunctions of all kinds.
Especially thjose feeling entitled,
To disrespect, neglect, stay lazy and get paid.
Pastimes dedicated to waste,
And have quickly replaced discipline...
Have to come to an end.
Statistics have already proven them to be,
Too costly of an investment with no dividends coming in.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Get Up And Get Things Done
If I don't find a purpose,
To get up and get things done...
I'll waste the day away.
My day will waste away.
If I...
Do nothing,
But talk on the telephone,
Listening to people moan their groans...
I'll waste the day away.
My day will waste away.
And to have that as a habit,
Is not where my head is at!
And I do what I can for myself,
Without some people donating their help.
Some people have no need...
To begin one thing and see it through.
And when I tackle something...
It is going to get done!
Since that is what I do.
Some people,
Waste a lot of time.
Some people,
Can't make up their minds.
Some people,
Have nothing to do but to sing the blues!
Some people,
Waste a lot of time.
Some people,
Can't make up their minds.
Some people,
Have nothing to do but to sing the blues!
If I don't find a purpose,
To get up and get things done...
I'll waste the day away.
My day will waste away.
If I...
Do nothing,
But talk on the telephone,
My day will waste away.
I'll waste the day away.
Some people,
Waste a lot of time.
Some people,
Can't make up their minds.
Some people,
Have nothing to do but to sing the blues!
Some people,
Have nothing to do but to sing the blues.
That's all they do!
And I wont be giving up my time to find,
That choice to make...
As a habit!
That choice wont become my habit.
People making up their minds like that...
Can have it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related To The Environment
I use to express my appreciation.
And complimented those,
Whose talents I admired.
I've stopped doing that.
I found myself defending that activity.
YES!
I was insulted,
Because I congratulated someone.
They indicated that I was patronizing.
So the few I do know that aren't offended,
I still extend my comments.
This foolishness experienced is without equal.
It has to be witnessed and evaluated,
To recognize the depths of insecurities...
And how they are related to the atmosphere.
And even then when that has been discovered...
A shallowness becomes identified,
Without doubt or question as part of the environment.
In other words...
It is as inescapable as gossip is to small minds,
In smaller towns.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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