Growing Up In the Projects
You want to know what it's like,
To grow up in the projects?
Being different and taking risks?
'Can't be that bad! '
Follow me.
'Where are we going? '
Up to the roof.
'To the roof? '
Yeah.
I want to show you something from my point of view.
Now...
Turnaround.
Put your hands behind your back.
'Why? '
I'm going to tie your hands behind your back.
Then I'm going to blindfold you before I leave you alone.
'But...
I might fall off the roof.
Aren't you concerned about that? '
You'll learn to adjust.
If you want to survive.
And...
If you can not get up from a fall?
Maybe you were too blind not to pay attention.
Some steps some folks shouldn't take.
Listening and observation is key.
Common sense is precious.
You be surprise how many lessons one learns,
Growing up in the projects.
'But my hands are tied.
And I can't see.'
I use to hear that all the time!
~Boy! Can't you see my hands are tied?
I can't see where the next dime is coming from.
And all I get from you is lip! ~
Note:
Not too many folks I knew who grew up
in the projects became victims from the experience.
In fact, most of the folks became very successful people.
But...that was a time when expectations were high.
And many years ago when folks chose to have 'some' identity
and dignity connected to the 'self' and a growth process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Quick to Boost Children With Wit
I once sought acceptance.
As a child growing in an environment.
Living amongst those I was told to respect.
With words untold...
I also grew to respect.
On their terms.
Since the same turf we shared.
Back then and during those times I yearned,
To learn!
But as I grew to understand from hard knocks.
Like throwing rocks at children.
And finding them and their parents...
Coming to my folks,
With not a smile on their faces!
Not a one looking...
As if they came to tell a series of jokes.
My yearnings to learn,
Took me, at times, away from my neighborhood.
Sometimes alone!
And for me this was good.
I soon came to understand...
Some folks didn't have a high degree of curiosity.
In fact...
Many couldn't read.
And those kids who could...
Were kinda ostracized from the 'hood'.
And growing up in a huge family...
I kept my thirst for learning,
As a secret kept within me!
But today as an aging man...
I know how important it is,
To be who I am.
And I am quick to boost children with wit.
Encouraging them to be inquisitive.
And observe how minds empty of thought...
Will have their hands out,
With nothing in them to share or give!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pictures Still Say What Words Can Not
I have no wish like others,
To feel and relive miseries.
There is nothing about sorrow,
That has an interest for me.
Some folks share their grief,
And can not leave these moments alone.
Folks like these I choose not to be around.
Nor are they invited near or inside my home.
I've had my days of weeping tears.
And for years they would not stop.
My heart has pounded in my chest...
Feeling I would pass out or dead I would drop!
But faith so strong I kept inside of me.
Even when those I thought were close...
Chose to leave me alone.
There was a message from God I learned from that.
When people think one is down and out...
They will make their true identities known!
And just how much time,
If any...
They have,
To make their feelings shown.
When one is flat on their back...
Folks can show where they are coming from.
With no need to express where they are at!
Or vocalize what they wish others to believe.
Pictures still say what words can not!
And some words unheard,
Can be the best one unseen can leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Try Super-Addictive 'Freebase' Nicotine Today!
When nicotine is added to some chemicals folks try,
It's then 'freebase', folks' brains to screw and finally folks die.
Some cigarettes are made so strong that strong men fail to quit,
Yet would they start a thing so wrong if they knew all of it?
Each packet has a warning note to tell folks, 'Leave these be! '
Once warned, who needs an antidote or cure to set folks free?
Yet there are those who still ignore the signpost, 'Sickness! Death! '
Though loved ones nag and will implore, is this just wasted breath?
Why must it be that cigarettes turn wise folks into fools?
Why must we see fag-fuelled regrets, yes, even in our schools?
How many deaths must be played out before the world sees sense
And bans what makes the grievers shout, such that all smoking ends?
Freebase, freewill, freedom to choose? But funerals aren't free!
Nor are the feelings when you lose the life God meant to be...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Age Spots and Lips That Droop
Psychotic are their problems.
Big and small ones hidden over time.
They did not have to keep them wrapped up.
They chose to medicate them,
With named brand solutions.
Given in geriatric presciptions.
With doses afforded,
And hopefully generically produced.
Or over the counter cheap solutions,
To ease symptoms of a process
Nurtured in their minds.
And these are the same folks,
Who worked to enjoy their retirements?
And I have enjoyed my life...
Knowing that when God said it was over,
That's when I would retire from it!
Not sit and rock away my time.
Of course I have been labelled crazed.
And I will never receive a gold watch,
For being that great and loyal employee.
Nor will a dime I thought was coming back to me,
In a pension plan...
Be lost or confiscated by a company drained by crooks,
Do I have to worry about.
However...
That would piss me off.
To work for the same folks for fifty or more years...
And not have a thing to show for it,
But age spots and lips that droop?
Stiffened joints and wrinkled skin?
The life from those kinds of folks,
Has been sucked from them to the marrow.
And here I am getting compliments,
For a firm behind.
And all this time,
I was working to have broad shoulders!
I have no complaints at all.
God continues to do me right!
I wake up each day with very little in my pockets.
And I feel like millions.
I go outside and see those with a few dollars...
And they would scare folks to death.
I've seen mummies in museums,
Wrapped and encased look better.
And these are the same folks,
Who worked to enjoy their retirements?
In what way...
I wonder?
Halloween only comes around once a year!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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He Is Not Stressed
Whatever was done,
Had been demeaned and declared as easy.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
Simple were his deeds considered.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
And criticized for his desires,
To obtained success.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
But that was yesterday!
Today...
He is not stressed at all!
Nor overly protective,
Of an investment,
Others made at a loss in pretentiousness.
And again he finds himself,
Blessed to be ahead of the rest!
And sharing a happiness...
For him that has been cost effective!
And those folks back 'then'...
In 'those days' they could not leave,
Are still there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Folks Lives Roll Easy
Words & music by paul simon
Some folks lives roll easy as a breeze
Drifting through a summer night
Heading for a sunny day
But most folks lives, oh they stumble
Lord they fall
Through no fault of their own
Most folks never catch their stars
And here I am, lord
Im knocking at your place of business
I know I aint got no business here
But you said if I ever got so low
I was busted,
You could be trusted
Some folks lives roll easy
Some folks lives
Never roll at all
Oh, they just fall
They just fall
Some folks lives
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Folks Who Live On The Hill
Folks Who Live on the Hill
((1937) Oscar Hammerstein II, Jerome Kern)
Someday we'll build a home on a hilltop high,
You and I,
Shiny and new a cottage that two can fill.
And we'll be pleased to be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
Someday we may be adding a thing or two,
A wing or two.
We will make changes as any fam'ly will,
But we will always be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
Our veranda will command a view of meadows green,
The sort of veiw that seems to want to be seen.
And when the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at the same old view,
Just we two.
Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill,
The folks like to be called,
What they have always been called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Folks Are Just Folks!
black folks just like white folks,
gotta eat, sleep, need somewhere
to stay, need a job...
just want to be treated like people,
equal in every way....
and my Hispanic neighbors,
hard working, working together,
(we could learn from that!)
taking care of families...
human beings with human needs,
just like us....
Asians, Native Americans...
all just the same....
all of us just people....
want to be treated that way!
folks are just folks!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Like Us
Why bother to get involved with folks,
Who have zero integrity?
And why do folks become disappointed,
With those who have a history...
Of lieing and cheating.
With a shown irresponsibility.
'Perhaps fools attracted,
Are meant to be together.'
And those observing with their opinions...
Have more time on their hands than they wish!
'You mean like us? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Belief System
Some folks do things,
Because they want others to 'believe'...
They 'are' somebody.
Who knows what's up,
The sleeves of people like these.
And those folks with 'beliefs'
Who know they have 'always' been 'somebody'
Don't need to look for acknowledgement.
They are going to get it anyway.
Because of who they are!
And wherever they are...
Good deeds done,
Seem to be always something done they do.
There is no belief system used to convince.
There is an obviousness without the need to mention.
It is in the existence,
That transcends what may or may not be...
What comes forward off of people's lips,
For others to physically with their eyes see.
And...
It is not because of what they want others to believe!
That this is so,
From embellished exaggerations.
Entertaining and released from an implementation.
And fantasies from them born...
To come to life and grow!
It is in the observation,
That proves a deserving worthiness...
Upon which others bestow,
Those of merit that receive attention.
Leaving to be distanced,
Those folks who wish others to believe
They are 'somebody'.
And they are...
Provoked into some self serving action.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Little Devotional
Well I'm blowing smoke out of your window
And you're slipping back into your dress
You know you were always such a lady
I've always been impressed
But gentlemen
They don't ask questions
Just keep quiet
She'll pay attention
Gentlemen don't ask questions
We could pay attention
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Well I pictured you in blue
But I have to say I'm more partial to the red
Deep, dark, and devastating
Leaving no question as to where you've been
I calm the crowd by keeping quiet
Move like a shadow up to your matress
Gentlemen don't ask questions
We could pay attention
Do you think he'd be better ('Cause we're down for competition)
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better (This could all be on purpose)
Doing what I do best?
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Do you think he'd be better
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better ('Cause we're down for competition)
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better (This could all be on purpose)
Doing what I do best?
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers.
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~63~
Get back!
Get back I say!
Get back.
How dare you sneak up on me like this?
Get back!
Get back I say!
Get back.
How dare you?
How dare you?
How dare you?
Get back!
'Grandpa? '
And will you stop calling me that!
I do not have children.
OR grandchildren.
And IF I did...
They will show me much more respect,
Than you have.
GRANDPA?
'God, thatnk You for saving me,
From a lifetime spent in prison.'
'You funny as hell,
Gramps.
Got you a little sumthin sumthin.'
How dare you come in here with that?
'Grandpa?
I thought you were cool with it?
You're the one who said you had no problem.
Age aint nuthin but a number.
ESPECIALLY when that store clerk,
Thought you were 59.
And you know I'm teasing you.
Why so serious?
Feeling a little...
OLD? '
No!
Yeah...
NAW!
No!
Yeah...
A little.
'Can't make up your own mind!
I hope like hell that doesn't happen to me! '
And don't be coming in disturbing me,
With that filthy mouth!
But...
But.
But...
Why did it have to creep upon me so soon?
I wasn't paying attention.
I consented to 62!
And that was cool with me.
But 63 is gon' be wild!
I can tell that already!
'You'll be fine.
You should feel blessed.
Look?
So many folks can not say they will be 63!
SIXTY THREE years old.
What a blessing! '
Yeah, right!
So many folks ain't here to say nuthin'.
I guess you're right.
But all those candles on that cake,
Heat the whole room!
Why you do this to me?
Why?
Get back!
Get back I say!
Get back.
How dare you sneak up on me like this?
'Oh...
He's acting now!
Let me say this to you.
Sssshhh...
He's loving the attention!
However...
Before?
Before this surprise,
He was quite serious!
He 'still' thinks he's in...
In his 40's.'
LIES!
Pure BS!
That's all that is.
Don't pay that no mind t'all!
I most certainly do not!
And who is this you talking to?
They don't need to know my business!
And who invited them in here to snoop,
In the first place?
Ya'll don't need to hear this.
Now scoot!
'Scoot?
Where's the scaddle?
LOL
Yeah...you're getting...
Uh...you up there! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lessons Can Be Learned
Once I've been pushed to the edge...
With my back up against the wall,
And accused of doing things...
I had not done at all?
And all I had wanted,
Was to share gifts I had been given?
With a wish to offer...
Because I'm not the selfish kind!
Well...
My motivations have changed.
Some folks have a way to show,
Anyone...
How these unselfish acts,
Can eventually make one feel...
They are the ones out of their minds,
And something snaps!
Reality does that.
And after giving to others...
Only to get a reception that attacks?
Proves this fact...
Lessons can be learned!
Feelings hurt can be mended.
Backs can be turned.
And away from that kind of crap...
One can walk!
And not a word has to be exchanged.
At this point...
Nothing said,
Will be understood!
Unless one 'is' as believed...
In it for the attention?
And there is nothing about me...
In need to receive it like that.
Or...
Am I crazy enough
To want to be treated with that kind of insanity!
Clearly devoid of hospitality.
Not me.
There are too many other things to do!
And too much time,
Already wasted.
'That reminds me of that postman that was shot,
Because he delivered someone's welfare check...
After the bank was closed! '
You can stand there and reminisce.
I'm not taking the time for none of it!
Some folks don't 'get it'.
And I now can care less...
About who gets what late,
Or not at all!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Walking In Someone Else's Shoes
I feel like this about life...
If you have reached your 40's,50's and 60's
With a lack of identity and understanding,
As to who you are?
Do not expect from me my patience,
Or a tolerant hand to hold.
I've been called 'nutt's too often by those,
Who are still seeking approval from their mamas
And papas.
With some folks whining,
As if they need their diapers changed.
And the years I endured through emotional pain...
God came to my aid.
And saved me from back to back heartbreak.
With few caring less 'how' I survived!
As long as I was there to hear their complaints,
My pain to them was insignificant.
And as I observe and comprehend how some can be...
I see them now the same way,
Without concern.
There 'is' a caring!
However...
I don't get wrapped up dramatically about it,
Like some folks.
There is something to be said,
About walking in someone else's shoes!
They may look easy and comfortable to wear...
Until it is realized,
The fit just isn't 'that' comfortable.
A perception handed to one on a plate to eat...
With a choice to live life,
Is not life lived to experience all it offers.
Even if one is not ready for the experience...
There is a process called 'growth' that is done!
A maturity that happens,
When one heals and recovers from mental insecurities...
Of all kinds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Croassroads
All you folks think you own my life
But you never made any sacrifice
Demons they are on my trail
Im standing at the crossroads of the hell
I look to the left I look to the right
Therere hands that grab me on every side
All you folks think I got my price
At which Ill sell all that is mine
You think money rules when all else fails
Go sell your soul and keep your shell
Im trying to protect what I keep inside
All the reasons why I live my life
Some say the devil be a mystical thing
I say the devil he a walking man
He a fool he a liar conjurer and a thief
He try to tell you what you want
Try to tell you what you need
Standing at the point
The road it cross you down
What is at your back
Which way do you turn
Who will come to find you first
Your devils or your gods
All you folks think you run my life
Say I should be willing to comprimise
I say all you demons go back to hell
Ill save my soul save myself
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crossroads
All you folks think you own my life
But you never made any sacrifice
Demons they are on my trail
Im standing at the crossroads of the hell
I look to the left I look to the right
Therere hands that grab me on every side
All you folks think I got my price
At which Ill sell all that is mine
You think money rules when all else fails
Go sell your soul and keep your shell
Im trying to protect what I keep inside
All the reasons why I live my life
Some say the devil be a mystical thing
I say the devil he a walking man
He a fool he a liar conjurer and a thief
He try to tell you what you want
Try to tell you what you need
Standing at the point
The road it cross you down
What is at your back
Which way do you turn
Who will come to find you first
Your devils or your gods
All you folks think you run my life
Say I should be willing to compromise
I say all you demons go back to hell
Ill save my soul save myself
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Am In My 'Me' Zone
When I am in my 'me' zone...
That's what it is,
All about me!
I hear some folks say,
How selfish that is.
And they seem to be the ones...
With their hands out.
Seeking others to give.
And after years of being drained,
By others who complain.
I've learned,
Over time...
My own happiness,
I had to maintain.
Since few could care less about that!
And I've observed happy people,
Carrying less burdens on their backs.
And there is something about 'that'
That keeps me attracted.
When I am in my 'me' zone...
That's what it is,
All about me!
And it is not a question of being selfish.
It's more like identifying a peace of mind,
I can qualify as mine.
Since some folks seem to be victimized...
By guilt.
If they are not constantly in a giving mode!
Receiving is part of it!
And I am in full acceptance.
Prepared and ready to share.
Free from being depleted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blind
Ive been searching for the answers
Ive been diving in the sea
Ive been haunted by the shadows
Of what we could have been
And its not that Im broken
And it isnt that I bleed
But when you pulled the stars from the heavens
It got so hard to see
And where would I put my hands now?
Its over now, we had our time
Its over now, we had our time
But you leave me, blind
Will you leave me, blind
Dove for the treasures
We went deep down for the pearls
And we could have cracked it open
Yeah, it could have been so good
And where would I put my hands now?
Its over now, we had our time
Its over now, we had our time
I feel this pain, I know Im alive
If love is wrong, then Im doing time
I feel myself, small like a child
My love has gone, how will I survive
Its everywhere, its in the trees
All those stars and I cant see
Im blind, Im blind, Im blind
And how will you think of us
A crease along your hand
Lying at these temple doors
Beautiful and sad
And where would I put my hands now?
Its over now, we had our time
Its over now , we had our time
But you leave me, blind
Will you leave me, blind
Its in the trees
All those stars and I cant see
Oh, you leave me, you leave
You leave me, blind, blind
Ooh, you leave me, you leave me
Its in the trees
You leave me, you leave me
Blind
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alms For The Poor. Alms For The Poor
'Alms for the poor.
Alms for the poor.'
Is this a new gimmick their using?
Isn't it a bit early to be dressed,
Like characters from a Charles Dickens' novel?
It's not even Halloween yet.
And those folks are dressed is if prepared,
To sing Christmas Carols.
~Well...
I'm not one to be cynical about these things.
Or quick to express a saccharine sentmentalism...
For those I see appearing in Victorian costumes,
This early in the season.
But I will say this...
Whoever advised them to come to this side of the 'hood',
Dressed like that...
Begging? Or whatever that is they are doing,
Has got to be the best salesman 'ever'.
Or...?
Consider this observation,
Those folks are pushing something discovered better than crack.
And they've come to the 'hood'...
To test this new taste of Christmas in October.
To get folks hooked and as high as possible,
To care less what holiday season is near.~
LOL
~Don't laugh.
I remember when 'arms for the poor' meant a soliciting.
Those folks have buckets in their hands,
Painted with pumpkin faces on them.
With their arms stretched out.
Offering samples of whatever is in them.
And...
Dressed in Victorian costumes.
At this time of the night in the inner city?
That doesn't make you suspicious? ~
Comeon.
What's so unusual about it?
They've come to display their charitable natures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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