If The Almighty Knew
No planning involved.
Just last minute picked up scraps...
Rushed and throwned together.
And from observation,
That's how this is regarded.
Under bright or Cloudy skies!
Can it be,
This is how they feel about themselves,
And their lives.
Lived to achieve the heights of mediocrity.
And very jealous of others,
Who accomplish with hard work to achieve.
By setting goals and removing obstacles.
Although,
Those who are disciplined they prefer to see as jerks.
And call them out of their names.
To sell their own false hope and insecurities.
It is no longer pitiful,
The mindset they reflect.
And it is clear where their interests have been!
Just listen to what is coming out of the mouths of their children.
Reflected investments placed in an assured future.
It is twenty thousand and ten!
I must say that again...
It is twenty thousand and ten!
And most of those ignorant have minds of barbarians.
Even the lowest of animals have ascended to a thought process.
Using the power of deductive reasoning.
While some folks are lost,
In discussions of color of skin!
And...
If anyone finds this accepting,
And still proclaim to have intelligence?
It is not a mystery why this society is crumbling into pieces!
As a self examination that should have long taken place...
Has been disregarded to focus on the mocking of other races.
Those with branches extended from our own ancestries.
We are all from the same tree.
With opened eyes this can be seen.
Like there is only one Earth we leech upon?
You, me and those we despise.
You know...
'Those' disgusting creatures!
We try to rise above with lies.
No planning involved.
Just last minute picked up scraps...
Rushed and throwned together,
Just like that.
With the belief something lasting should happen.
I often wonder IF God knew we would eventually feel like that?
And If The Almighty knew this...
WHY has He or She or It,
Allow us to become such misfits?
With beliefs we are the center of the Universe.
As if a joke has been provoked,
To prove that God is extremely humorous.
And I am sure of that without doubt.
Now,
On the other hand...
If our existence here is an intended blatant dysfunction,
What I have written should not offend.
However,
If it does...
Your comprehension is based upon pretension!
With a history that has not pursued truth!
And I suspect a lot of that of late...
Consistently annoys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
In Far Too Many Numbers They Rise (In Answer To Maya Angelou)
There are many facts in history
of people both ignorant and wise;
at times I look with incredulity
at how people multiply to rise
having as many children as they can do,
with diarrhoea, living in gloom,
with blown up bellies where food run through,
living in the very red-brown dirt in doom
without a look of hope in their eyes
where president-for-life dictators govern
with an iron rod, not hearing weakened cries,
while for civilization, for food they yearn;
where platinum, gold and copper mines
are sold to the Chinese, are from the country apart,
while parts of Africa goes into total decline
and to make a living is extremely hard.
Does this poem of mine offend you?
Unfortunately I do not deal in lies,
unfortunately these facts are very true
and to some people it’s no surprise
as AIDS, poverty, pestilence runs as a black tide
that comes in unstoppable waves of pain
from which very few of the poorest people can hide,
as far too many deaths happen again and again
and from this destruction very few get clear
while for something better they constantly crave
as their daily lives are always lived in fear,
as far too many go to a very early grave.
Still people multiply to rise under blue harsh skies
in far too many numbers, to never be free,
from lives that many of them do despise,
from lives lived in constant poverty.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Accepting To Protect False Beliefs
The telling of lies told and sold,
To deny in a hiding of one's insecurities...
Does not prevent,
An increasing mental instability...
As witnessed by those,
Not only experiencing buyer's remorse...
But shows the ones who have lied,
Responsible for much that has gone...
Misunderstood most of their lives,
While fighting against denials.
And today...
There is no way of escaping,
With a possibility on either side of truth...
To correct relationships destroyed to redo,
By accepting to protect false beliefs as done.
Or can fix to mend anyone's heart broken,
Of those victimized who have forgiven.
Since they will never be able to erase in time,
From their minds...
The effects of what has happened to them.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known...
To keep those from being aware,
With a clearing of polluted air.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Habitually Fixed
People addicted to nonsense,
Are no different than those addicted to crack.
Or any other sedation that medicates.
Dumbed down and seeking entertaining escapades.
And afraid of any thought process,
That causes comprehension.
Or communicating some of that might exist.
People addicted to nonsense,
Prefer to see a disagreement with their ideologies...
As confrontations..
With a nothingness with someone in this mindset,
That ever gets done.
Dumbed down and seeking entertaining escapades.
And afraid of any thought process,
That causes comprehension.
Or communicating some of that might exist.
This activity is representative of those who create conflicts,
To protect interests.
And those interests have been habitually fixed to delusions.
And people like this,
Stubborn and fixed...
Live assuming any progress that moves forward,
Is a conspiracy that threatens their beliefs!
And as long as they keep passing the 'pipe' around...
They will interpret the crumbling of foundations,
As a work of art!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Results Of Truth In Action
Never had I had the opportunity,
To have others rally in support...
Of my deluded accusations.
Nor have people rushed to my defense,
Based upon allegations I falsely made.
And after witnessing this in a process done,
By the ones who have had some come to their aid...
I can say with a gratefulness,
Happy am I that I have not been tempted...
To lie on others.
Paying the ultimate price,
To have time correct those wrongs to make right...
For those who have been victimized,
Does not achieve what deceivers expect...
When one's mental and physical health become subjected,
To live lives others can eventually see for themselves...
The results of truth in action.
Requiring little, if any, judgement needed to pass.
A payback delivered is in the proof of observation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Provoked But Motivated
The taking for granted of others,
Does not have long lasting benefits.
Nor does an attempt to fit another into a mold,
Believing this misdeed easy to sell to be sold to others...
Will not eventually backfire to expose one's own credibility,
To reveal an ability to create fantastic lies...
On those they chose to be depicted as they would please.
Creating one's own truth can be forgivable,
By those picked to be discredited as if this had been permitted.
But for those whose minds become disturbed,
As time unwinds them to unravel without a word from them heard.
It becomes more difficult to keep this from being noticed.
Or those provoked but motivated,
By those who thought them to be the fools they have never been.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tea For One
(page/plant)
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days?
Oh twenty-four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
Sittin, lookin at the clock, time moves so slow
Ive been watchin for the hands to move
Until I just cant look no more
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seems to slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
To sing a song for you, I recall you used to say
Oh baby this ones for we two, which in the end is you anyway
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
There was a time that I stood tall, in the eyes of other men
But by my own choice I left you woman, and now I cant get back again
How come twenty-four hours, sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
A minute seems like a lifetime
When I feel this way...i feel this way
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Engrossed and Trapped
They feel the freedom to express the affects,
Of today's racism.
As technologies advance.
To leave mindsets like these...
Engrossed and trapped within their insecurities.
One would never believe these conversations breed,
This kind of attention in the year two thousand and ten.
There seems to be more focus on one's color of skin.
By ignorant radio talk show hosts...
Being paid top dollar,
To use the airwaves to solicit a hatred...
That validates the feelings of those who listen.
Whites who describe themselves,
As disliking blacks, browns and jews.
Are given this kind of authorized soapbox...
To discuss their self righteousness.
And who should live as they choose.
There seems to be more focus on one's color of skin.
By ignorant radio talk show hosts...
Being paid top dollar,
To use the airwaves to solicit a hatred...
That validates the feelings of those who listen.
They feel the freedom to express the affects,
Of today's racism.
As technologies advance.
To leave mindsets like these...
Engrossed and trapped within their insecurities.
One would never believe these conversations breed,
This kind of attention in the year two thousand and ten.
But then again...
IF a superiority is what is truly felt.
Why are there reminders needed?
And why is a country of physical diversity...
Have some folks believing,
They should be directing all people...
To do what a few who deceive as they please.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Generation
never has the future seemed so dated
never have i been so lost for words
youll take a chance if youre given it
and youd fall in love with anything
never has the future seemed so tainted
its always been at loss for what its known as
at lost for what its known as
but im fine about it
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about this place before id ever been here
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
lets celebrate alo-one
how does it feel yes how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
i promise i wont be apart
and how does it feel yes tell me
how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
planning for the future seems so dated
listen plans you make them and ignore them
only to find that and believe them to be true
and planning for the future seems so tainted
its always been at loss for what its known as
at lost for what its known as
but im fine about it
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about you before you were born
i knew more about this place before id ever been here
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
lets celebrate alo-one
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
youve got no generation
lets celebrate alo-one
how does it feel yes how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
i promise i wont be apart
and how does it feel yes tell me
how does it feel
to know that you will never take part
i promise i wont be wont be apart
i promise i wont be wont be apart
i promise i wont b
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My view... would be that we are entering upon a new and interim society which is neither capitalist nor socialist, but in which we can achieve central planning without loss of individual initiative, by the mere process of absorbing initiative in the function of planning.
quote by John Grierson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Ego Involved
I think I will approach my 'main' interests,
A little bit differently.
'How's that? '
I am going to pretend, publicly...
I have a wish to do one thing,
But sacrifice my time and efforts...
Doing what I love which no one suspects.
And achieve secretly,
Tremendous success.
'That will never happen.'
Why not?
'Because that kind of success,
For you...
Has not happened yet.'
Oh?
I did say 'secretly'.
And secrets revealed slowly to uncover,
Are the best ones to discover.
'You think so, huh?
And how is that? '
By words.
Words expressed,
Coming out of the mouths of others.
Disappointed by the lack of bragging attached.
'And IF that should happen,
That is the best kind of success to achieve.'
I know.
There is no ego involved to detect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Preferring to Complain, Eat, Play Games and Sleep
Things will be said about the one once ignored.
The one once a joke,
And providing laughing fodder...
To those who fidget.
Saying there is 'nothing' to do!
And life to them bores.
With attempts made to improve their lives...
Very few of them even bother.
But this does not happen,
To those deemed and perceived...
Least likely to succeed.
The ones living quietly in communities,
And discreetly applying their seeds to achieve.
Perceiving to 'do' is 'to' follow through and receive.
Setting the example,
Is likened to biting into a pail of nails.
In some places...
Where folks are accustomed to applauding failure.
And setbacks are welcomed by those laying the traps!
It seems to happen to those,
In acceptance of themselves.
Believing they can do anything!
And accomplish like no one else.
No matter what the circumstances.
People like this seem to have a determination.
Like flowers reappearing to dare to bloom brighter,
Every Spring!
As if to prove a point that is made.
Regardless of what the naysayers bring to the table.
These folks seem to qualify their own abilities!
Since to accomplish means to them...
What one does with one's mind.
Not a place to find where this can be done.
Or seek to fulfill a mediocrity,
Like everyone in an environment...
Where excuses are made.
And alibis the 'disease'.
And a thought process for many,
Seems to have stalled in potential.
Surrounded by an abundance of it.
To proclaim!
But the potential has yet to become essential.
It's just in conversation to exclaim.
With a doing of it yet given an opportunity to use.
And those seen in pursuit...
Are immediately sought to ridicule and abuse!
Yes this 'is' sick!
And done daily by vocal nitwits!
Things will be said about the one once ignored.
The one once a joke,
And providing laughing fodder...
To those who fidget.
Saying there is 'nothing' to do!
And life to them bores.
But this does not happen,
To those deemed and perceived...
Least likely to succeed.
The ones living quietly in communities,
And discreetly applying their seeds to achieve.
And ironically...
This activity one has sought to pursue,
Isn't that unique!
But a work ethic applied to tasks to complete...
Seems oddly a challenge many unaccepting.
As seen by those who roam on urban streets.
Many have come to fear to dislike and not endear...
The definition of work or the time spent to sacrifice.
Mention this...
And they will soon disappear!
But adopting quick to devisive devices...
No one fears this at all!
Preferring to complain...
Eat, play games and sleep.
With a shopping stop made,
Daily at a local mall.
Like an expected routine.
Kept as sacred,
As the connection of life has to breath.
No matter if the act of that...
Has least importance than one's credit.
'They seem to take a lot for granted here.
Don't they? '
~I have no idea.
Do they?
I have things to do to get done.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Direct Correcting
I hate to offend one's ignorance.
I know too well,
The damage this can cause.
I too have been a victim,
Of my own stubbornness.
With beliefs I once,
Knew it all.
I hate to offend one's ignorance.
I know too well,
The damage this can cause.
To obtain experience,
And gain a knowledge that transcends...
Where an 'awareness' accepted,
Once had been.
Rarely opens all minds at the same time.
I too have been a victim,
Of my own stubbornness.
With beliefs I once,
Knew it all.
With a defense mechanism,
That stalled like a wall...
The coming in of a comprehension.
I hate to offend one's ignorance.
I know too well,
The damage this can cause.
But every now and then,
I can not just sit and pretend...
I am accepting of anyone's delivery to receive,
From them...
A blinding disrespect without my direct correcting.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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How We Learned Our Lessons
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.
And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!
They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.
'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
Our Parents.
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slipping Under The Radar
What he has managed to achieve and accomplish,
To us has made no sense.
'Why doesn't it? '
From what we have heard about him,
And from reliable sources too...
All he has ever done was waste valuable time.
As well as his gifts and talents he has not used.
'Well...
It is obvious to me,
He knew more about himself...
Than the others believed.'
But how could he manage to achieve and accomplish,
With a slipping under the radar to go undetected...
As he has successfully done?
With a collecting of his own set of fools.
'Perhaps he was not concentrating on the rumors.
And feeding them to everyone to entrap for fun.
Knowing that the doing of this...
Would one day have him shining in the Sun.'
He has not played fair,
In the eyes of those who chose to belittle him.
Proclaiming he was delusional.
Amounting to nothing with a going nowhere.
'He did not play fair?
I think he played it just right.
Whose mouths have been silenced?
And whose lips have been closed tight? '
So...
What should 'we' do about the rumors?
'WE?
Don't get 'me' involved in this.
He didn't make me look like a fool.
I verify 'all' of the gossip I hear.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Twenty-nine Thousand Four Hundred Seven Sunsets
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
In the early days by my mother’s side,
Though she’d often tell me of the sun and of the sea,
I seldom watched, and never for long,
The slow dissolve,
The melt and plunge,
Now you see it, now you don’t-
So many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The years of my youth were marked by friends and sport,
Often whole days on the beach-
Raging winds and mammoth waves
Or a still, glass sea, not a cloud in the sky,
And every shade in between.
I rarely fathomed the myriad shapes and colors,
An ever-changing landscape-
So very many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The middle-aged years pinned me to my work;
Yet through a window from time to time,
Or on holiday, if I risked the break,
I’d notice how lovely a sunset could be-
So very many sunsets lost forever.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
At last, in these final days, each sunset is anticipated, craved.
Regardless the mood of the sea, it will receive the sun.
No matter the face of the sky, it will let go the same.
The sun itself, always churning, always burning,
Swells with new brilliance, new radiance and splendor
Each time it approaches the sea,
Then morphs into a molten pool on the sea’s surface
Before plunging from view-
Never more a sunset lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
Then one glorious day,
The day of my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and sixth sunset,
And I at my usual place along the shore,
Saw the sun rise out of the sea from where it had just set!
The sun rose back up into the sky, and
In the very next moment on the very same day, it set again.
I experienced my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and seventh sunset,
The second in one day!
Oh glorious day!
A sunset gained.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
(In 2 Kings 20: 9-11 the Lord made the shadow go back 10 steps. Certainly, at that exact moment, somewhere in the world, someone saw the sun dissolve on the horizon and then rise again.)
When Money Is Involved
When money is involved...
Titles are of no importance.
Elections conducted,
Are to seduce the proletariat.
With dangling carrots.
To increase desires to reach.
But known they will never get.
And those right to vote notions,
Set into motion...
Are to squelch protests.
To quiet perceptions of divisions,
Between the ones feeling disenfranchised.
And others of special interests to be kept.
Yet...
Eventually,
The one who has the money wins.
And a running done to gain notoriety,
Has little or no meaning to them.
To take opinionated positions,
Based upon a popularity given...
Is not a game for them to play.
Not in a conventional public way.
When money is involved?
Those who have it decide who plays.
To leave a process believed fair,
Made quite simple.
Those who have the cash,
Are not concerned about talking trash.
Since what takes place,
Where and when...
All of it,
Dispensed.
Still delivers a guaranteed return,
On their investments.
When money is involved...
Titles are of no importance.
Nor is there a need to run for any office.
Or make needless public appearances.
When money is involved...
People pay others to monitor their interests.
And take care of all their needs.
Whatever those needs may be.
Regardless of who, why and where...
Someone makes a decision to vote.
When money is involved...
Those who have it,
Decide who wins!
That's it!
Debates are for those seeking to be entertained.
And those with the money,
Write the script, direct and produce the affects,
'They' expect!
Until their needs are pleased.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kids I Once Knew Had Specific Chores
We knew fear but not excuses...
Where I grew up and lived as a kid.
Plus we were too competitive...
With a daring done to prove we weren't afraid.
And much too inquisitive about life,
Back in those days...
When we were taught to be respectful.
And all of the kids I once knew had specific chores,
Assigned to do to get done.
With a doing of them first or face the consequences.
To 'then' be followed by the doing of any school homework.
I am not one to say the children today are lazy.
Nor am I one to pass judgement on the obvious,
To argue in debate or heated discussion with those offended.
Since today there is a difference between being 'smart',
And having common sense.
Intellectualizing what is obviously a detriment,
I leave to those still trying to impress...
There elementary school teachers.
There is a technology involved a lot of children use,
Without using their heads like we once had to do.
And not being able to read 'and' write?
To then brag about graduating from high school?
Whether or not they attended day or night...
With an acceptance given to go to a college too?
I will not say is ridiculous...
Since to me that's my observation.
And I have had it being the one considered to be a fool.
No wonder they have no discipline.
Folks refuse to acknowledge the truth.
Or instill this asset within the minds of their children.
They've been given the right to do as they choose.
And refusing to listen...
So many have chosen 'that' to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Touched As Wished
Perceive and feel any accomplishment wished.
The beating and removing of weeds...
On a path,
May slow...
But don't let a mind that is fixed,
To accomplish...
Drift.
Mistakes are made.
But one must allow this...
If a feeling of success,
Is going to be touched as wished.
Stay away from those with negativity to grind.
People like that are weak in initiative...
Are also seeking to validate,
Their insecurities in other minds.
Misery loves company.
A lot of it and that's a fact.
And emotions shown that go unprotected...
Are used as traps to hold folks back.
'I understand exactly how you are feeling.
Come and sit with me.
I have time to waste to listen with a comforting done,
To every one of your complaints.
Don't hold back.
I am here for you and I want you to know that.'
Misery loves company.
A lot of it and that's a fact.
And emotions shown that go unprotected...
Are used as traps to hold folks back.
To achieve and acquire success...
One must work at it constantly.
Often without being understood.
Often without sleep.
Or getting little rest.
But blessings come as rewards for those tests.
Perceive and feel any accomplishment wished.
The beating and removing of weeds...
On a path,
May slow...
But don't let a mind that is fixed,
To accomplish...
Drift.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Move On With Your Charming Ways Fixed To Leech
You requested my assistance,
In your questioned delivery.
And when I insisted that I could not...
You began to offend my dignity.
And instead of getting angered,
I respected you...
And suggested to you with hints.
To only have you say to me...
My way to you did not make sense.
You requested my assistance,
In your questioned delivery.
And when I insisted that I could not...
You began to offend my dignity.
And now when I don't respond to you,
With an expressed interest...
You want to defame my intentions meant,
By claiming in public with derogatory statements...
What you think about me,
To those who have no clue about your indignities.
And like I have stated to you once before,
It is not me but you,
That must open your own doors.
My experience in doing this for myself,
Is not transferrable to anyone else...
To decide what it is I have pursued for years,
Takes for them too much time to accomplish.
Because work and sweat is involved with some tears.
And like I have stated to you once before,
It is not me but you,
That must open your own doors.
I am not assigned to be anyone's butler,
Doormat.
Or slave!
I may offer to assist,
But when my assistance is regarded useless...
Move on with your charming ways fixed to leech.
Don't stab me in the back,
Because your insecurities wish to see me bleed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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