I Did That From Scratch
Some create their best work,
By using their abilities to cut and paste.
And with fresh glue to apply to it too...
Motivates them to bragg about their talents.
When I hear someone say,
'I did that from scratch.'
And I believe their statements...
As I witness their fingers,
On their heads do that.
To create from 'nothing',
That one envisions from an inspiration...
Isn't easy to put together,
For pieces of it to fit.
And after what one completes...
Others become motivated,
To snip an idea.
As a qualifying aspect of their originality.
Signed and delived with no sweat equity attached.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
With Less Sweat
Why is it,
That someone will waste their skills...
And talents,
With a wish to perform with the giving of their gifts...
On someone else's created stage,
To shower them with 'their' brilliance.
Why would someone abandoned their own abilities,
To create their own stage from those resources given...
With a highlighting of those,
Who will not be demeaned because it is known...
They have a need to fit into the wrong places.
With a giving away to others...
Who look to make claims of discoveries stolen,
To produce their own names to be seen in lights.
Leaving people with talents to fight,
To be seen...
Only to have what they bring,
Used.
To be 'thanked' but excused from the audition process.
I 'feel' for those who are told their presence is not needed.
But their unique talents exposed were certainly used,
To be re-labelled and approved for purposes to market.
And...
With less sweat that had been sacrificed.
At the expense of stealing from someone their scene.
'We're sorry.
However,
Thank you for sharing with us your unique abilities.
We'll keep your 'info' in our files.
Expect to hear from us...
One day.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Decoys
You'll see over there,
Decoys.
But none to keep.
Or use as toys.
Realize they are bait to feed.
And a process to minimize,
Those who try...
To annoy with alibis.
We apply them to attract,
Those easy to tease.
And seeking a life of greed,
To please and disregard others in need.
Decoys,
Are easy to create and rid.
Decoys,
Used to fool...
And,
Derail those offtrack people.
We need decoys,
To trick...
Those who abuse.
Decoys,
Employed to trap.
Decoys,
Those greedy already fat.
Decoys,
To sidetrack those rat packers...
Who enjoy holding others back.
Decoys,
Employed to trap.
Decoys,
Those greedy already fat.
Decoys,
To sidetrack those rat packers...
Who enjoy holding others back.
Those decoys.
To school those up and coming...
Looking for money to get,
Without sweat to create...
A mess for the rest.
You'll see over there,
Decoys.
But none to keep.
Or use as toys.
We apply them to attract,
Those easy to tease.
And decoys,
Employed to trap.
Decoys,
Those greedy already fat.
Decoys,
To sidetrack those rat packers...
Who enjoy holding others back.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Spell
A low monotone ‘snip snip snip'
Drooping heads as in slumber deep
The mirrors reflect telling it all
The shed strands quietly fall.
Goes on the buzz ‘snip snip snip'
Are they awake or in deep sleep?
Getting off-loaded here's no hike
Lines of souls sit vampire-like.
No one speaks it's nobody's call
Heads mildly roll, tissues fall
Shrouded white from world disguised
The snipper's spells have them hypnotized.
The stupor breaks once ends the ride
A cruel world is waiting outside
The spell was so short, it's a pity
Time again for back to reality!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Perceived to Be For Them Easy
If this was easy...
Why isn't more of it being produced,
At this caliber.
If this was easy.
'Perhaps they mean it is easy to read.
Therefore...
It is perceived to be for them easy.'
It is easy for me to go to an amusement park.
But I also remember when it wasn't there,
For years.
And not one person expressed a thought,
To create one.
'What are you saying? '
It is easy to say what appears that way.
Until those who say it...
Make attempts on their own.
But that will not happen...
Since what is done requires work!
And those who believe things are easy...
Are not accustomed to work or its definition!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under Duress
It is getting increasingly obvious...
The difference between,
Those who are comfortable in their skins.
And those trying to fit in,
To get paid some attention.
Those attached to life,
From a perception of limitation...
Are made easy to believe,
A presentation that attracts...
The physicality of things,
Is how life should be lived.
And those faith based beings,
Seem to be spiritually encouraged.
They are the ones motivated first,
By an inspiration to create...
From a place innovation is born.
To allow others to plagiarize to live easier lives.
It is getting increasingly obvious...
The difference between,
Those who are comfortable in their skins.
And those trying to fit in,
To get paid some attention.
They become frustrated by another's success.
They believe they are entitled to be self centered,
With an expression of selfishness.
They perceive those homeless and hungry,
As the ones unlucky who became suppressed.
But the ones wishing to impress,
Are the ones self destructing...
From a lack of consciousness they do not possess.
Those attached to life,
From a perception of limitation...
Are made easy to believe,
A presentation that attracts...
The physicality of things,
Is a quality of life to live as addressed.
And if it is?
Why are people like this,
So unhappy...
With themselves?
And if it is the kind of life to live,
Why are people living lives like this,
Finding more and more...
Their beliefs being dismissed?
And they find themselves,
Living under duress.
Which is under the rest,
Of those historically oppressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Smart And/Or Lucky
There is a style that emerges,
When one applies a skill.
When one devotes both time and loyalty...
With determination that motivates a will.
A drive that is given.
And takes this as a craft.
To those who view this as sacrificial...
Could never be disciplined,
To tasks requiring a focus that lasts.
Or taking it upon themselves,
To 'do' and not ask!
To love what one does,
May not be easy because one loves it.
It might be the challenge,
One faces to embrace.
To enhance a curiosity,
In one's mind that takes place.
And some have a way,
To overcome their own obstacles.
While others try to pretend they don't exist.
With excuses that are fixed,
In exaggerated wishes.
To say what it is they dream to do.
But the doing of the deed that should please,
Never finds time in their minds to get done.
And these are the same ones,
Who are quick to say...
Someone is either smart and /or lucky.
And imply no work has been involved or applied!
Or that one has been gifted with talents.
Subtracting to mention...
Those 'talents' are honed,
By many sleepless nights...
With some tears sometimes to cry!
To deliver what is loved,
Into an undelusioned reality.
To prove to 'self' what can be accomplished.
With motivated determination self inflicted.
Without a magic wand involved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An original is a creation motivated by desire. Any reproduction of an originals motivated be necessity. It is marvelous that we are the only species that creates gratuitous forms. To create is divine, to reproduce is human.
Love As A Work Of Art
A work of art in which far more than just part
of the work, its feeling, can be all
it is composed of is far more than merest art:
it is the love in which all lovers fall.
The 12/30/10 WSJ listed the New Year resolutions of some major cultural figures. Olafur Eliasson, a Danish artist, best known in the U.S. for erecting man-made 'Waterfalls' around New York, said:
One of my goals for the year is to create a work of art that only consists of a feeling. I'm trying to work out how to get at that, how to define it as a work of art. There are obviously many feelings, but the one I'd like to create is the feeling of community. Highly abstract, I know.
I bought this solar-powered airplane, but right now it's all in pieces in a garage. Before I got it, it flew, but I took it apart so I could see if I could also turn it into a work of art. But aesthetics and aerodynamics didn't work out so well with me, and now it won't fly. So if the engineers can help put it back together, my goal is to fly it from Berlin to London this summer.
poem by Gershon Hepner
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That Aint Happenin'!
I admit I do have skills and abilities.
But not without heartbreak,
And the aches that come...
To achieving them,
Was not for me an easy undertaking.
Or did they come to lay at my feet,
Those skills and abilities!
For a quick retrieval.
Reality didn't come to me,
Quite that easy.
Sweat and tears dripping...
Hard work with motivation,
And lots of sacrifice took place.
With little encouragement coming my way.
Hey,
What can I say.
The facts speak for themselves.
To have someone stand in my face,
With the making of demands...
As if a flattering done to my ego,
Will deliver to them quickly...
From me what they command,
Becomes a disappointment for the both of us.
Nothing in my mind,
Came as a breeze to easily find!
What they see is a dignity.
And a pride in what I do.
To be taken for granted,
Are attitudes I do not pursue.
And anyone who believes,
My ego is easy to please.
Become surprised to discover...
I have a depth that is attached to an identity!
And aint nothing about any of it,
Has been given or come to me easy.
With God as my 'Guide'...
I have worked day and night for this.
Many hours, months and years...
God and I sat,
As I rid my eyes...
From the buckets cried of tears.
And to give that experience up,
To help fill someone else's cup...
Has not been my reason,
To immediately do what others expect from me.
That aint happenin'.
However...
I will say this,
To know my activities have become recognized...
To validate in these times that exist,
Means more to me...
Than the show of someone's quickly expressed,
Disrespect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Author's Inspiration
My fingers do not type the words on the page; they do not draw delusions on a thin piece of white lined paper. They are not meant for the works of art to be used and unworthy for. My fingers are worthy enough to paint pictures inside your cognizance, more than painting a paintless sheet that means nothing to me. My fingers work as if every picture I paint in my mind, inspires them to write the unwritten page, to make it a master piece. But not every inspiration inside my mind, will take merely a second to create. It takes time, patience, and art to smear the writings onto a page. Author inspiration is from what comes from the heart; deep and dark, inspring and light - it's as if it was left inside its cage. No freedom, no light, no darkness, no being of a creature that the render of the paper, simply gave up on inspiring the little ones'. It's as if this mere creature was left within a white blank world. No colors to paint, no words to express. An author inspiration is formed when they see or hear other works of art, whether it's music to their ears, movies they wish to be in, life and feelings that they feel or positioned in, or other writings that they write something else about - but as an inspiration from them. An inspiration can be from anything from the outside world, from what happens inside one's life, to what creates such imagination within one's thoughts that coats the page with color and creativity. Anyone can be talented. Anyone can have an inspiration. You just have to feel and be it.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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Based Upon Materialistic Concepts
I can not call my breathing a hobby.
Nor do I relate,
To those who associate creativity...
To a dollar bill.
And there are many like that.
Attached to things.
Disconnected spiritually...
To any talents or gifts,
To them God brings!
When asked how much I 'make'...
I get irate with folks like that.
And those who say they have no time to create...
I know right away,
With them I do not relate.
And those who say they have faith in God...
To only admit,
They do not accept God given talents,
Are their main jobs.
I have limited patience.
Knowing from them,
I can only expect a production of excuses.
Based upon materialistic concepts.
And as I age...
From folks like this,
I wish to keep my distance.
And God kept pleased!
Since He is the only One,
To know where I come from.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pyramid
You and I built a pyramid
Out of granite casing stone
(That we quarried across
A flooded river) .
We fastened the structure
Together with the sweat
Of our hands,
Fixedly spooling an organic
Glue that we believed was inseparable
When applied to the pieces
We mounted
And put on top of each other
In passionate labor.
We wanted to deify ourselves,
To create the demiurges that
Each other could worship—
Transfusing our souls in the moment—
But we were unsuccessful.
Perhaps we should not have constructed
Such a monument on the clouds,
Knowing that—
As air
Makes monuments crumble
By unrooting their support—
We could not stand
Longer than the time it took to fall.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The List Goes On
Radio play, just depresses me today,
Why is it so throwaway?
The lists that you write just to classify this tripe,
When clearly it all sounds the same
I've heard it all done before,
100 years ago, or more,
Orginality is so passe
Just the same old politics
Through pretentious effects units,
By self obsessive slobs... the list goes on
Madia press has become an utter mess,
The opinions of failed pop stars,
They constantly try to divert the public eye,
Led by large cash advances and such
I've heard it all done before,
100 years ago or more
Originality is so passe,
Forgotten geners get re-hashed
Create the craze, create the cash,
Will you buy anything... the list goes on
And I will try, not to let this get to me,
But it goes on,
Yeah it goes on, and on and on and on...
I've heard it all done before,
100 years ago or more,
Originality is so passe,
I'll never lose my faith in you,
If nothing's good what can you do,
Just don't buy anything,
The list goes on,
On the list goes on
song performed by by Ordinary Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Again I Write...
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
I write to save my sanity.
I write to ease my heart.
I write to cleanse my soul.
I write to feel alive.
I write to keep my mind strong and my thoughts clear.
I write my words of sorrow, despair, pain, and love, as well as words of wisdom.
I write so that one day someone will truly know me.
This paper, this pen is once again my inspiration.
It is the inspiration to what I see.
It is the inspiration to what I hear.
It is the inspiration to what I feel.
It is the inspiration to the art I create.
It is the inspiration to what I draw.
It is the inspiration to the love for my daughter.
It is the inspiration to the love for my husband.
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
Once again I write to say thank you my timeless friends.
Thank you for saving me time and time again.
poem by Sara Jo Andrews
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Energy in Tune
The mind and heart work together
To create the words of our lives
Energy we feel in the air
Living in synchronicity
With the energies around
To create the words of our lives
One day you wake up and your mind is blank
The energy has faded
And the feeling has disappeared
When the energies stop coming to you
and stop working in tune with your mind
But your mind and heart work together
can create the energy thats gone
when you've been exercising them
your mind and heart work together
To create this natural music
but when you stop the song thats inside
and start using templates
you begin to paint by number
(written in STUDY HALL on 8-31-06)
poem by Electric Tripp
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Not Into Spinning Cut Paste Conversations
Just one soul,
Sincere!
And not into spinning,
Cut paste conversations...
Clipped from over usaged,
With what is expected...
Another wants to hear.
Those with approaches,
Whether coached or surfaced tapped...
Seem to lack originality.
With a rehearsed premeditation attached.
A socialized conditioning,
Overdone and redundant trapped...
Begins with meaningless trite expressions.
With an emptiness that packs...
Every reason to deliver,
A yawn or two that attracts a catnap.
Just one soul,
Sincere!
And not into spinning,
Cut paste conversations.
Clipped from over usaged,
With what is expected...
Another wants to hear,
That would give a person purpose,
And a reason to chat...
With a comprehension to match.
'If I wasn't horny,
I wouldn't be here seeking a mate.'
~If I didn't have preferences,
You would be ideal.~
'Well,
At least we've got 'that' out of the way.
Have a good evening.'
~You too!
And by the way...
Here is my number.
I will be expecting your call.
For some reason,
My preference list just got a bit shorter.
Who knew I'd meet someone like you? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If you create an act, you create a habit. If you create a habit, you create a character. If you create a character, you create a destiny.
quote by Andre Maurois
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We have to deal with where we are. We have to create cooperatives, we have to create intentional communities, we have to work for local cooperation where we are.
quote by Jerry Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thoughts give birth to a creative force that is neither elemental nor sidereal. Thoughts create a new heaven, a new firmament, a new source of energy, from which new arts flow. When a man undertakes to create something, he establishes a new heaven, as it were and from it the work that he desires to create flows into him. For such is the immensity of man that he is greater than heaven and earth.
quote by Philipus Aureolus Paracelsus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Would I Convince?
What are you doing?
'I've awakened this morning,
Deciding I would get serious.'
Serious?
Serious about what?
'My creative abilities.
And expand upon my capabilities.'
I thought you were applying that?
Haven't you been serious?
'Naw,
I was just testing a few ideas.
A few concepts.
Now...
I am ready to begin to unleash my talents.'
So what is that you are doing?
'I've begun to scratch the surface!
How else should I start.
How else should I begin?
I am removing the dust from it now.'
What about the people?
'What people?
What about them?
The people who believe,
They've 'already' been exposed to your 'gifts'...
Those...
Talents?
Or whatever they are called.
'My gifts?
Exposed?
I haven't unwrapped them yet!
Who has been spreading these rumors?
Folks aint got nothing else to do but lie?
OH?
Oh...
They believe my rehearsals,
Have been the real deal!
Hopefully I will be forgiven,
When I reveal the actual product!
And I've got several to launch.
I forgot!
People will accept 'anything' remotely expressing 'talent',
As the real deal.
Wow.
I have to remind myself about that.
Don't you say a word to anyone about this.
You hear me? '
Even if I did...
Who would I convince?
There are some people who actually believe,
They've been exposed to your greatest work.
'LOL...
Ssshhh,
I know.
LOL...
I know!
Stop it,
My stomach hurts.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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