Hopefully It Is Not Too Late
There is a malignant tumor,
Growing fast...
Right under,
Those standards we qualify...
And regard,
As valued.
And radiating it with interest,
Seems out of date.
But hopefully,
It is not too late...
To cure ourselves soon.
And quick...
Before it ruins any renovation,
Begun on a foundation claimed...
As treasured!
And needing all minds,
To assist with its restoration.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Needing Structure
A spackling 'now' used,
Will not disguise
The appearance of cracks.
Shouldn't a wall be erected...
Before this is applied to that?
I know the blueprint calls
For an action to take place.
But applying spackle to the bricks...
First
Seems too quick and such a waste.
And yet I understand,
When you say the patience you held
Has slipped from your hands.
But wouldn't it be wonderful...
If you and the rest,
Saw this as a team effort at its best.
And not as an individual quest in a contest?
Perhaps you will find...
That blueprint means more than a bunch of lines.
And minds working together,
Saves accusations traded.
To build upon a foundation claimed,
Needing structure and a purpose...
As well as a name to adorn the frame!
And this you say is a craft you crave?
Which part of it is understood?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Abandoned Are Those Standards Claimed Valued
I remember when contradictions to ideals mentioned,
Were quickly dismissed.
And covered up to immediately hush.
With an ostracizing of those of tarted tongues.
Unafraid to expose what was seen unjustly done.
Long before profits became hot topics.
Well,
It seems today...
Everyone is deviant,
In some kind of inappropriate sexual way.
And in the darkest of closed closets.
With a molesting of minds to confine their deceits.
And to say these dysfunctional disturbing acts,
Have been going on for years behind those backs...
Quick to impose their self righteous 'philosophies' on others.
Denying those decadent touches practiced in private.
And abandoned are those standards claimed valued,
With a devoted faith shown publicly but not to be trusted as stated.
However...
Pure and pristine images are kept dignified to maintain,
With a censoring done to keep those 'ideals' left unblemished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hopefully 'Something' Is Being Learned
A capitalistic way of life foreclosed,
Has put an end to values claimed.
That treasured piece of the pie grows mold.
And standards proclaimed can no longer be maintained.
Shocked into reality and stunned by defeat,
People who once gloated then...
Find themselves now knocked off their feet.
No longer now declining others,
To be neighbors on vacant streets.
Those who knew the quietness of suburbia,
Find a fresh kindred with those in shelters.
Those kept enclosed to live lives on urban streets.
Victims of the greedy...
Who never thought they'd see,
Themselves sharing a commonness...
With the people they described as lazy, shiftless and weak.
How bleak.
A capitalistic way of life foreclosed,
Has put an end to values claimed.
That treasured piece of the pie grows mold.
And standards proclaimed can no longer be maintained.
Who is to blame for their misfortunes?
A self righteousness flushed down the drain?
Who can they now point their fingers to as heathens?
Do they look at mirrors found,
Without lowering their heads in shame?
'That's doubtful.
Since they've been conditioned and trained,
To see themselves above all others.
With any changes made...
To return them back to times that were,
For them that remains the same.
Unchanged,
Lacking empathy.
And ungrateful.'
Well...
Hopefully 'something' is being learned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Methods Used To Assess
People have come to assess and evaluate others,
On standards that have been chosen as long valued.
Only to discover those long valued standards,
And the people assessed by an evaluation conducted...
Have their own methods used to assess others as well.
With values they possess but not as openly expressed.
And that is one reason not given to others with interests,
They have a preference for keeping to themselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Improprieties
It seems as though your improprieties,
From those standards you valued...
Have come to undo you to do you in.
Anything done you did you had time to correct.
And those blatant mistakes you've made,
Would have long been forgotten with an apology.
Your wish to be seen,
As something other than a human being...
Has left you in a deep ditch.
Along with other hypocrites,
You shared a commonness with.
Mixed and socialized in a doing of discreet business.
Well...
It seems as though your improprieties,
From those standards you valued...
Have come to undo you to do you in.
And what you intentionally did to others,
Had not been a good thing to do...
For the doing you did to get done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Every Level
On every level of consciousness they appear to be crippled.
And on every level this seems to be a preference to keep.
Any reference that suggests a curing of their disabilities,
Becomes immediately resented and considered offensive.
Although they protest and complain,
Vehemently about the standards of their rehabilitation...
To accomodate their most pressing of needs,
They choose to ignore any restoration of their mentalities.
And fight with a biting they do,
The very hands that have come to assist them for decades.
And yet...
They expect to stay at the feast to eat AND be served!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is An Understanding To Be Claimed
There is an understanding to be claimed,
You say is now within your reach.
And you can comprehend how I've been feeling?
Making it okay for you now to speak to me.
I will pretend I didn't hear that.
Just because you are disappointed,
By the way your life has gone.
I don't share those sentiments.
Your perception of me,
And your thoughts that I do not acquire...
Material 'things' you can not touch or see,
Does not qualify you to understand my feelings.
However...
What from 'you' I do understand,
Is the feeling you possess of worthlessness.
Since your values have been re-evaluated.
I've never had those values to re-evaluate.
And you now believe you and I have something in common?
We don't.
There is an understanding to be claimed,
You say is now within your reach.
And you can comprehend how I've been feeling?
Don't fool yourself.
The standards I have set for myself,
Are extremely high.
And you?
You haven't sacrificed your beliefs,
To know those feelings others rejected...
With a disrespect.
There is much between you and I,
I could never accept.
Even if I tried.
I don't lie to myself.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love
Real Love is like a tumor,
grave and deep and so intense
deadly, fatal, malignant
it comes out
when it gets
INCURABLE! ! !
poem by Shahzia Batool
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Statesmen
Rictameter
syllables
2-4-6-8-10
and reverse.
Treasured
and well-valued
are the men of culture
enlightened in the finer arts
their legislative Acts seldom falter.
Ministry with genuine hearts
faithfulness we honour
they are always
Treasured
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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You Only Show Me Interest
I would love to sit and spend more time with you.
Looking at life from your point of view.
But of late,
I am reminded doing this I have done.
With little of my own visions,
You have neither invited or have welcomed.
And if you did,
You've made many excuses...
To run to do errands,
With a wish that I would come.
Today my happiness for me has begun.
And it has taken me a while to understand,
My happiness is of no interest to you.
Unless,
Of course...
It is spent entirely catering to you,
And what it is you like to do.
No more am I in it just to give to you, boo!
You have no interest in me.
You only show me interest,
If it is a benefit to you in all that you do.
And people like you around me I don't need.
'That's not true! '
What is it that I like most to do?
'You never mentioned it.
So how would I know? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Standards Valued
Their leaders fed them greed.
That has led them to a brick wall,
Stalled.
And now they wish to push their ignorance to new limits.
Since their selfish way of life...
Has been severely for them,
Diminished.
They still choose to refer to 'them' as 'those'.
With every need they had from 'them'...
Stolen.
Gold and oil and treasured gems.
All of it belonging to 'those' and not 'them'.
And all their interests...
Has been for them to pick conflicts.
On foreign lands.
And now their debts made that must be paid...
Are owed to foreign hands.
And on their own shores a man elected,
To lift them out of their own swill.
Is scrutinized not for his ability...
But for his skin color.
Some have chosen to overshadow...
In pointless debates!
To smother his abilities...
And his apparent skills!
At a sacrifice to belabor their weight.
As those of small minds,
Are overheard reminding themselves...
'But he is BLACK!
How will his mind 'absorb'...
What we know from birth he lacks,
Because of that fact! '
Fools of gluttony!
With minds poisoned from sheltered environments.
Believe themselves the 'chosen ones'.
Although their evilness...
Makes them the most barbaric on Earth.
Always on a binge of defensiveness.
Always seeking enemies and terrorists.
And they fear their standards valued,
Will change!
And threaten the darkness...
They wish not to miss with a protectiveness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Discussion Of What 'Is' Valued
Mixed marriages.
Sexual preferences.
And those unable to mind their own business.
Is not a good blend,
When in discussion of what 'is' valued.
Since those standards of a yesterday gone,
And once valued to respect others and their choices made...
Are not prioritized,
By those who have their noses...
Up in the cracks of other people's lives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The 1990s, after the reign of terror of academic vandalism, will be a decade of restoration: restoration of meaning, value, beauty, pleasure, and emotion to art and restoration of art to its audience.
quote by Camille Paglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paranoia
Multiple tongues followed
some strangers to see the
trafficking of images between space
and promises. Somewhere
adjectives were being cheated.
A tumor was growing in brain
locked, enhancing, malignant:
condemned destiny. Implicity of incest
in same gene pool. Where
the evolution has stopped?
A missile has intercepted and smashed
the moon into ten thousand
sins. Palpable wreckage.
We were shoved into dustbin
A pile of starving skulls.
Clotted stone blood. Mountains
were wounded. My mentor
had a paranoia. Delusion
Of falling snow
from burning sky.
poem by Satish Verma
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If you don't meet the standards, then you don't qualify.
quote by Harold Ford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Muscle Has a Purpose
Long before you decided,
To gather the nerve to taste...
I had been in preparation.
Long before you knew this brew I cooked,
Existed!
The seeds of my ingredients were being nurtured,
To implant in minds...
Needing a boost with a quick lift.
And as you observe this,
For structure to compare...
My skills and talents.
To categorize,
And place them somewhere.
To eventually declare what I prepare,
To be free of content!
Let me say this,
If you didn't get it...
If the aroma doesn't capture your interest...
You will never comprehend the intent.
Every muscle has a purpose!
Every jesture is connected to meaning!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Treasured Moments
Every one of us has moments,
treasured moments to call our own.
They come when we’re not looking,
and linger with us a lifetime.
They bring happiness
that we can look back on,
through our growing years.
No one can steal them from us,
nor taint them in anyway.
They are our treasured moments,
that linger with us,
even when we pray.
They are little time capsules
that hold our world together,
when we are feeling down.
They are the joys we reached,
when heaven said, its you.
Treasured moments
like photographs,
capture a moment in time.
We think of some thing to associate them with.
So when we see that thing
we can enjoy them once more,
those treasured moments.
31 May 2007
poem by David Harris
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Leaving Few to Wonder
Perhaps it is their madness!
Or an entrapment that satisfies.
However...
I can not be the only one who notices,
Those who say they pray for understanding.
But quick to turn their backs,
On those who God sends...
To assist them,
With the ridding of their 'sins'.
And they do their best to reject the messengers!
Coming with gifts.
And a delivery of their wishes.
And 'this' they do not accept.
Although they stay on knees humbly...
With an untouchable self righteousness,
Expecting a unity in a collective peacefulness.
But they choose to qualify those who come,
Assigned to them to get that done!
To leave few to wonder,
Why suffering remains their choice sustained.
And voices of deliverance,
Are silenced and shunned!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quick Fix
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
Nothing it gives me's gonna cure my ills
I've got it bad baby and that ain't no lie
There ain't no vaccine for what I've got
Your kind of poison it don't come in a shot
It's just a cravin' baby that I can't deny
I've been tearin' up the town slammin' whiskey down
Ain't nothing but the real thing gonna do...no
There ain't no quick fix for you.
Babe...Lawd...There ain't no quick fix
You drive me crazy baby with those eyes
When you walked in the room you hit me broadside
Its a little past midnight
How blue can you get?
No matter how I try to drink this county dry
There really ain't no substitute....no
I need a quick fix for you
There ain't no easy answer
There ain't no miracle cure
I told the doctor what I needed
He said you better just run to her
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
Nothing it gives me gonna cure my ills
Well, no matter how I try to drink this county dry
There really ain't no substitute...no.
There ain't no quick fix for you
There ain't no quick fix.
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do This With Interest Shown
When you have finished,
Searching for more dirt...
That has not been revealed,
To appeal to your taste.
For smearing...
Undermining and ruining,
Those who have more than paid their dues.
By the good deeds done with sacrifice,
They continue to do.
Know this,
Your investment in wickedness...
Has not been discreetly hidden.
And you are about to receive the bill,
That requires not only that you pay...
For your offenses spent to diminish and defame,
At another's expense.
But that you also do this with interest shown,
Quick.
Or something that resembles a swiftness.
And,
With such public speed exposed.
Knowing,
That your days are numbered!
And please...
Do not regard this as a warning.
Regard this as a promise of delivery,
Long overdue.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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