I Just Know This Is 'Not' Your Best Effort
My mother used to assign my sisters and I...
The most remedial tasks to complete.
When we were much younger.
To test our mental capabilities.
Oh...
Those lessons my mother would teach.
And then...
Shower us with praises.
Having us believe,
We were gifted with unspeakable talents.
After connecting 'dots'.
Or...
Knowing which end of a handle held,
Was used to sweep or mop.
And as years have passed us by,
It became clear her tactic and strategy.
She knew we would seek more difficult tasks,
To satisfy her to complete.
And even to this day...
I can hear her voice say,
'This is wonderful.'
As her eyes express...
'Even though THIS is wonderful.
I just know this is 'not' your best effort.'
And with a seeking we sought,
Increasing much more difficult challenges.
Never becoming satisfied,
Just to do our best.
There 'has' to be something 'greater' to achieve.
'I just know this is 'not' your best effort?
And if it is...
Well,
I 'guess' it's...okay! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
The Lucky Ones
It would be wonderful to sit back,
And glorify in an ego.
To feel,
As egos go...
I'm done!
And completely satisfied.
With myself and everyone!
It would be nice,
To accept restricting limitations.
With boundaries understood.
Like cattle within fences to graze,
Unfazed with just one expectation...
To eat and sleep,
Until slaughtered!
Sometimes I feel like that.
Unstrapping accountability off my back...
And live totally without thoughts to complete a mission.
Being absolutely conditioned to achieve nothing at all.
To be convinced that what I do is easy to achieve.
Believing what I like to do requires no work!
And become like those who say they have good jobs.
Because they find themselves with little to nothing to do.
But going beserk.
Over a prized coffee cup...
That has been discovered missing.
Or seeking to find a pair of sox that match,
An outfit one has prepared to publicly wear!
To receive a compliment,
From those in offices who arrive to work...
To file and push papers.
It would be wonderful to sit back,
And glorify in an ego.
To feel,
As egos go...
I'm done!
And completely satisfied.
Like those with a 9 to 5.
However...
It has been many years,
To accomplish tasks that I've done.
And if I had thought I was the center of it...
Like some.
Nothing of what I have done,
Would have seen the light of the Sun.
I'd be too busy doing nothing.
And many find time to do that.
With perceptions that others...
Who sacrifice to do what they wish,
Are the lucky ones without schedules to meet.
Or having to impress,
Someone greeted to have an hour lunch!
And after staring at a clock all day,
Be finally given the signal to be dismissed.
Only to agree to see one another at a bar.
For Happy Hour spent drinking.
And discussing 'who' and 'what' made them pissed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pointless Oppositions
So happy am I and pleased to see,
Others with talents to express them publicly.
When I began to do this I felt alone and strange.
Especially when people misunderstood my attempts,
To do what I desired and not seek attention to get.
Although it was part of the territory to be exposed.
I only knew of a love of it.
Ego had nothing to do what I chose!
And as years have gone by so happy am I,
To see others with 'gifts' express them in public.
I know how lonely and difficult it gets,
When others with no interests...
'Assume' they can pass judgement with senseless tests.
Hoping to discourage those born to do their best.
To only witness one determined to be who they are,
And achieve with a doing to reflect their best efforts.
So happy am I and pleased to see,
Others with talents to express them publicly.
And...
Putting to rest,
Those who protest with their pointless oppositions.
Only those who know,
Grow from those wounds to heal to show what's real.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wonderful Mother
Wonderful Mother
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
poem by Morgan Doe
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Beautiful Child
Beautiful beautiful child
Give me a wonderful Christmas day
What can I ask for more
In my daily tasks and pray
May your star shine bright on us all
And we've those wonderful snowy flakes
What can we ask for more
On a wonderful Christmas day
There are candles to be lighten
And presents to have and give
May your holidays be up brighten
And the spirit of Christmas live
And those that are lonely still
May they take part and deploy
In their hearts to be fulfill
With the promises of Christ’s joy
Lets be merry and deck the halls
And give true love what it takes
What can we all ask for more
On a wonderful Christmas day
Beautiful beautiful child
Give me a wonderful Christmas day
What can I ask for more
In my daily tasks and pray
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Its A Wonderful Life
(diana ross/bill wray/kim bullard)
I was lost in darkness all alone
On the streets no place that i
I could call my own
Times so hard
Rain everywhere down below
Until the day I heard your voice
Telling me which way to go
Come on out into the life
Hold on love its alright
Its a wonderful life
Now that you made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
I was blind but love made me see
Its everything I was searchin for
Was right in front of me
Loving you made me very strong
You gave me the strength I needed
So I could carry on
Come on out into the light
Hold on love its alright
Its a wonderful life
You made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
I feel light as a feather
Every days beautiful weather
In your arms I remain
Forever and ever
Its a wonderful life
That you made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
Its a wonderful life
You made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God made a wonderful Mother
God made a wonderful mother. A mother that grows old. He made her smile of sunshine. Made heart of pure gold. Her eyes bring shinning stars. You see God makes a wonderful mother and gve that wonderful mother to me. written 8; 29'08 Posted 5/1/10 In the memory of my mother Esther Ferber Klayton
poem by Susie Sunshine
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A Mother
A mother is the one who nurtures you……
She’s there when you need a shoulder to cry on ……
You can talk to her when and where ever you feel like……
I’ m proud to have a mother that has all of these qualities……
A mother is there to teach you right from wrong……
A mother loves you no matter what you do……
She has your back……
She trusts your decisions one hundred percent because she knows that she has raised you right…………
A mother is a special friend, you can tell her all of your secrets……
That’s why I am proud to call Diane Eley this wonderful, intelligent woman my mother……
Dedicated to the most wonderful mother: Diane Eley
poem by Hydia Hollins
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Just A Series Of Tests To Measure
Let this be said,
To those great and small.
To those standing on the peaks of mountains,
And to the ones beginning their journeys...
On knees in the darkest of valleys,
Who believe it is beneath them to crawl.
When that moment of 'light' upon you hits.
And you become aware of your talents and gifts.
You will begin to lift your head,
To reach the furthest star.
Even when you reach that peak you seek...
You will not become satisfied inside at all.
There will still be that urge,
To surge to even greater heights!
Let this be said,
To those great and small.
You owe it only to yourself to be your best.
And those obstacles you face,
Are just a series of tests to measure your self worth.
You will pass.
If you learn not to give up...
And get off your accusations to aspire.
And rid that trash on your back that is carried.
To accept...
That difficult tasks can never be grasped.
You will!
Only you can fulfill your dreams.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Feeding Expected
No one can borrow money,
Squeezed from empty pockets.
Or dream of eating from a feast,
Deliciously prepared...
When nothing is there to eat anywhere.
And this feeding expected,
Is to be selected and picked from thin air.
Anyone can sit and wish to move...
And command a doing of it if they choose.
But...
A doing of it must first begin,
With an implementation...
Of those desires and needs,
Feeding a fire of desire from within.
A moving to do to complete and get done...
Is not going to come,
Without an effort made from someone.
Anyone can sit and wish to move...
And command a doing of it if they choose.
But...
A moving to do to complete and get done...
Is not going to come,
Without an effort made from someone.
That one,
Who sits with just wishes and dreams to appear...
Unassisted,
Will not be the one to benefit...
Without connecting,
Purpose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mothers Are Wonderful
mother you so wonderful
you fade me in your stomach for 9manth
you nursed me well until now i love you mother
mother you wonderful in nursing you are like nurse
when i cried to you one night you loved me so much
you endured sleepless night when was sick
you showed me you care so much
there nothing am going to give you mother
because i can't pay until you are satisfied
but i will try so much in presence to help you
in each task you want, mother i love so much
when my father chased you out his home, you went with me
when my father died you took so much care to me
mother you deserve blessing from GOD
poem by Ahmed Kakembo
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On occasion we need to make a second effort - and a third effort, and a fourth effort, and as many degrees of effort as may be required to accomplish what we strive to achieve.
quote by Thomas S. Monson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Only Consciousness Known
With the greatest of effort,
They've accomplished defeating...
The ones selected,
To prevent any success...
Expressed with wishes to achieve.
A success that would directly benefit...
The lives of those living,
Within the community of condoned mediocrity.
And with this defeat crumbling beneath their feet,
They today actively seek...
Someone they deemed qualified,
And liked well enough to accept...
A manipulation of their patience.
Until a tolerance of it abandons them again.
To leave them in complete ignorance,
That is for them the only consciousness known.
'Your comments are a bit negative.'
Are they?
I had no idea my expressed observations,
Would offend.
Where do you recommend I go,
To have them acceptably interpreted?
'That may be a bit difficult.
What you see presented is a ritual.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sweat is sweet
Sweat is
A metabolic outcome
Of an exercise
In a bio system
Human sweat is salty
But it is really sweet
As once you sweat
You are going to gain
It indicates the effort
That goes on inside
More the sweat
Greater the effort
Sweat is not always
The water droplets
Seen on the surface of a body
It may be within
And it could be a emotional outburst
But ensure such emotions are
Positive, proactive and creative
Whatever it is
Sweat is synonymous with effort
Greater the effort
More the sweat
And sweeter the gain
Often we think of
Doing away with sweating
And you natrually are
Doing away with the effort
The gain of such an effort
Cannot be that sweet
We take pride in not having sweated
In achieving a gain
But such a gain is not
Really a gain
Sweat, but, enthusiastically
With love and affection
Towards the effort
With the understanding that
Sweating is no suffering
Let it be a voluntary struggle
With clear goal and destination
In mind
You will understand that
Sweat is sweet
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Unqualified or Aware
You seek from me,
What I seek from you!
Leaving our needs to be left weak,
From the seeking.
If you and I just be without that seeking...
We would find our search complete.
And satisfy that daily heat!
We wish to see first...
And not feel the thirst of it!
Knowing it is there.
If we only cared enough to trust.
Instead of believing...
Someone else can compare,
And share.
Although...
We find them ultimately,
Unqualified or aware...
Inside of us,
We have such lust!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Always Difficult To Begin The Week
IT IS ALWAYS DIFFICULT TO BEGIN THE WEEK
It is always difficult to begin the week
One's body is lost in a previous sleep
One's mind is still held down and back
Into resting -
The world is bleak
It is empty and difficult
I am empty inside
I have nothing to do
I have too much to do-
Still I must begin
I will do the usual routine assignments
Slowly I will get back into the motion and mind of my work
I am already trying now-
Even a small effort should bring forth suggestions for further effort
It will take time
Slowly I will find the way
From task to task
Into the real work -
Somehow the week will begin again
It always does-
Though now I am still slow and not there yet
I feel as if in writing this
I have somehow already begun to work again-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sprinting Through
During this speeded up course,
I trek called life.
I approach as a thoroughbred horse.
With challenges awaiting that aren't nearly as great...
As those obstacles I faced,
When first I entered this race.
With a slowed but no less eager pace...
I see clearly the tracks I placed and passed.
And so determined am I to complete those assigned tasks...
Given to me.
And from God I asked.
With little regard to the solitude I endure.
Sprinting through!
Doing that which God wishes me to do.
Until it is done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Learns My Lesson Complete?
WHO learns my lesson complete?
Boss, journeyman, apprentice--churchman and atheist,
The stupid and the wise thinker--parents and offspring--merchant,
clerk, porter and customer,
Editor, author, artist, and schoolboy--Draw nigh and commence;
It is no lesson--it lets down the bars to a good lesson,
And that to another, and every one to another still.
The great laws take and effuse without argument;
I am of the same style, for I am their friend,
I love them quits and quits--I do not halt, and make salaams.
I lie abstracted, and hear beautiful tales of things, and the reasons
of things; 10
They are so beautiful, I nudge myself to listen.
I cannot say to any person what I hear--I cannot say it to myself--it
is very wonderful.
It is no small matter, this round and delicious globe, moving so
exactly in its orbit forever and ever, without one jolt, or the
untruth of a single second;
I do not think it was made in six days, nor in ten thousand years,
nor ten billions of years,
Nor plann'd and built one thing after another, as an architect plans
and builds a house.
I do not think seventy years is the time of a man or woman,
Nor that seventy millions of years is the time of a man or woman,
Nor that years will ever stop the existence of me, or any one else.
Is it wonderful that I should be immortal? as every one is immortal;
I know it is wonderful, but my eyesight is equally wonderful, and how
I was conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful; 20
And pass'd from a babe, in the creeping trance of a couple of summers
and winters, to articulate and walk--All this is equally
wonderful.
And that my Soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other
without ever seeing each other, and never perhaps to see each
other, is every bit as wonderful.
And that I can think such thoughts as these, is just as wonderful;
And that I can remind you, and you think them, and know them to be
true, is just as wonderful.
And that the moon spins round the earth, and on with the earth, is
equally wonderful,
And that they balance themselves with the sun and stars, is equally
wonderful.
poem by Walt Whitman
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My mom
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
poem by Erica German
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Wonderful Mother
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
Pat O'Reilly
poem by Adriane Coles
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Where It Was I Had To Go
My greatest achievement has been,
In being able to ignore those who have stated...
What it was I 'could' or 'could not' do.
And where it was I had to go,
To accomplish my tasks.
Well...
I knew what I need to accomplish those tasks.
And telling those where to go,
Allowed me to achieve my beliefs.
My goals.
And those I told where to go...
Are all over the place,
Trying to find themselves.
Since I've known myself for quite sometime now,
I found it pointless to go anywhere to search for anything.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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