If You Want to Keep Your Peace Secured
I've been in one spot for twenty one years.
Mended from several heartbreaks.
And dried my own tears.
I know I've lost my mind...
At least a few times or more.
And the few people I knew had little to say.
Or bothered to knock on my opened door.
And today! TODAY...I get visitors.
Who claim to be my friends.
But I also know this much too well...
Folks only come around,
When they are near a dead end...
With no money to spend!
So I sat listening to 'them' ask...
'How have you been? '
And when I said I was doing great...
I was given from them big fake grins!
And I offered to them my hand and said...
'I'm so glad ya'll came by!
I need a loaf of bread.'
They quickly got up and left!
And that is how I have managed,
To keep my peace of mind.
Especially in a place...
Like this hometown of mine!
I can't wait for that fresh gossip,
To go around a few times!
And...
If you,
Any of you
Want to keep your peace secured...
Tell folks you ain't got a dime!
That will do it!
Unless...
You just happen to be cooking,
Collard greens with fried chicken wings.
Potato salad and yams,
WITH ice tea?
Unexpectedly?
You 'then' have folks,
You can't get rid of fast enough!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pour As Much Of It As You Want
Who you knew and what you knew,
About who and why back in the day.
When back in the day was...
Well,
Behind the times even then,
When molasses moved faster than folks...
Who claimed to eat snails on planes.
And some were calling that mess escargot!
Dipping it in horse radish and cocktail sauce?
Who knew?
I didn't know.
I just ate them.
People like that,
Slapping fancy names on common stuff...
I aint got time for.
And today those times have not changed.
Not that much.
And nothing you have to say,
Is of a concern to me.
Those days are behind me!
Packed way in the back,
Of my dusted memories.
Trust!
And the truth shall set you free.
Now...
Are you here to represent or deliver grief?
Which is it?
Since I certainly can not accept,
Your presence on my doostep...
As a chance encounter!
Nor am I into prolonging mysteries.
Hmmm...
You are here to spread fresh gossip,
On someone you suspect I know well.
I can tell.
And you could not wait to get here,
To get my reaction!
Am I right?
Well...
Let me clear the air and say this to you,
So I can get it out in the air...
Open and over with!
Before you think you'd find me in that same frame of mind.
I hate to disappoint you...
But,
I just removed some frozen chicken wings from the frig.
And they will take at least twenty minutes to thaw.
How much time you got?
'Me?
I got all night! '
Well, come on in!
You standing outside like I can afford to heat it.
I ain't got it like that!
It's cold.
Come on in and close the door.
And I'll fix us a nice pot of hot tea.
And feel free to pour as much of it as you want.
How you been?
I was just saying the other day...
It sure would be good to see you.
And here you are.
God is good aint He?
And works in such mysterious ways.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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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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Put a Sock In It
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Many getting sick of the pickiness started.
And when it gets sticky they can not stop.
Instigating agitation with annoyance.
Dropping all they've got to tie a mind in knots.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Can't you see them strike poses and begin to 'cheese'.
Then plop on their knees,
To make their pleas.
These same folks cry about bad luck.
With claims their butts are stuck in ruts.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
And fed up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Grateful for Traditions
Thick the gravy made did sit.
With turkey giblets tempting,
The licking of awaiting lips.
Dressing prepared,
Next to a glazed honeyed ham.
With collard greens smelling good,
As the potato salad nestled close
To chit'lins and delicious candied yams.
Pumpkin, apple and sweet potato pies...
Filled the air with anticipation,
As the black-eyed peas and rice
Were passed by!
Heads are bowed in prayer...
Giving thanks for blessings,
And grateful for traditions!
Feeding a heritage nurtured well,
When families gather...
For these feasting eating missions!
'Grandma...
Will you tell grandpa to stop talking,
And pass the fried chicken...please! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Nutritious
That banana cake taste,
Grandma use to bake.
And was loved?
Is gone with the deep dish apple pie.
That smothered blade steak.
Served with black eye peas,
Collard greens and candied yams.
Sometimes with peach cobbler,
With rich vanilla icecream.
That too,
Locks in memories.
Those golden brown biscuits,
Fresh from the oven.
Buttered.
And topped with homemade,
Strawberry jam.
Or that cornbread no one can resist.
That too...
Is gone with the deep dish apple pie.
And today...
As grateful as I am,
To witness the arrival...
Of another Thanksgiving Day to celebrate.
I've never seen so many butts and thighs so wide.
And none of us who ate at grandma's,
Waddled from the table.
No matter what we ate.
Or nibbled all day...
On the honeyed ham,
Turkey sandwiches, potato salad...
Turnips.
Or just to sit to sip on eggnog.
None of us who ate at grandma's,
Waddled from the table.
Or stretched spandex!
Maybe fast food is fast!
But it sure is not nutritious.
Forget delicious.
It's just addictive and quick.
That's it!
And when we ate at grandma's...
We knew something whipped up with love,
Was coming out of the kitchen.
And not to sit too long,
Waiting for a decision made to eat.
And none of us,
Who came to eat to leave...
Did a waddle from the table.
Or stretched spandex!
'Why didn't you mention,
My fried chicken? '
I didn't even get a piece, grandma!
'Next time,
Eat!
And stop running your mouth so much.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I've Heard Those Old Stories Told
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
I've heard those old stories told,
About what folks have done...
To make my life easy and comfortable.
Especially told to others who did not know.
And who did what...
When I got myself into ruts.
'God...
I am so glad You know the real deal! '
And I wonder 'who' that might have been?
That came to my aid when I needed them.
Hmmm...
It's true,
I have had folks give me 'things'.
And money loaned I paid back.
I've had people to me make promises.
And I remember every one of them broken...
From the time I was a kid!
Hmmm...
I can't remember anyone,
Motivating my moves!
Only You,
My Father.
I could say my entire life has been spent...
With me doing the giving.
And to a degree that would be true.
Since several people I have known...
Have told lies.
That's all they did and still do.
And I use to listen to a whole lot of BS.
With attempts I made to correct some mess.
Do I now?
No!
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
And the biggest lesson I have learned to date?
Do not hesitate in the waiting of others to approve!
You'd be a dried up old prune in the doing.
If you've been blessed with a gift,
You better give it and be done with it!
And let whoever say whatever!
Give folks who gossip some fuel,
To keep their lips moving.
And doing something bizarre...
While you're at it!
Learn to live without restrictions and limitations.
You and your time are not defined by those mindless.
Unless you let it!
Then whose truth do you ultimately live?
It wont be mine because I have my own to live!
Although I do give folks credit where it is due.
Like being witnesses...
To the gifts God has given to me.
That's it!
Anything else folks would like to claim...
Did not occur on my watch.
But I do understand,
Why some folks like to associate themselves...
With those who struggle through and win,
Their battles and conquer over grief!
Thank You God, Almighty!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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My Collard Green Romance
At one time...
One would have to beg grocers
To get collard greens in their stores.
Now the major food chains,
Have them propped up like kings and queens...
Among the lettuce, cabbage and corn!
They have obtained such notoriety today,
You have to have patience when someone
Grabs the last bundle.
And that person would not have admitted,
A leaf of a collard green bush in their neighborhood!
I saw these times coming.
'Cleo' didn't have the market on this!
When I finally can find Collard Greens...
Stocked like precious gems near the avacados.
I go to the suburbs.
Pig feet, chitlins', hamhocks, snouts and hoofs,
Are there!
Like it's a Negro Christmas going on!
Or...
Someone's been passing around my grandma's recipes!
When I cook my Collard Greens...
I season the water with dashes of salt, pepper
And garlic powder.
I slice one vadalia onion and a small potato.
I add three teaspoons of apple cider vinegar,
One teaspoon of lemon juice.
Two tablespoons of Olive Oil...virgin!
Cover and bring this crap to a boil.
Fill kitchen sink for the Collard Green bath.
This is where the true romance begins!
With baking powder, salt and celery seasoning...
Gently lift your Collard Greens and place them,
Stalk first into the warm and inviting water!
Rub each leaf between your hands under the water.
And while you are there...
Alone with your Collard Greens,
Glad you did not have to go to battle to get them.
You rinse them and begin to slice their leaves,
Grabbing them into a bunch...
And placing those cut leaves in a bowl.
When this task is done,
Put those greens in a pot that, hopefully...
Smells like an exotic preparation for royalty!
Turn down that boiled heat...under the pot!
To medium cook...
And let them do so for about 45mins to an hour.
Never rush cooking Collard Greens.
Oh...
When I want my Collard Greens,
To taste better than any on the scene!
I use baby smoked turkey butts.
In the boiled prepped water,
With the other sizzling seasons!
Any turkey butt will do...
But those baby butted turkeys,
Make gobbling up Collard Greens so delicious.
Enjoy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some folks rail against other folks, because other folks have what some folks would be glad of.
quote by Henry Fielding

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marriage Is For Old Folks
Mort shuman, leon carr
I love dancing
Crazy romancing
Fellas advancing constantly
Marriage is for old folks
Old folks, not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
I love singing
Good healthy clinging
Quietly bringing on a spree
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks!
One married he
One married she
Whaddya got?
Two people watchin tv!
Im not ready
To quit bein free
And Im not willing
To stop being me
Ive gotta sing my song
Why should I belong
To some guy who says
That Im wrong?
Doo doo dooo
De doo de doo
De-doo de-doo
Doo doo doo
Dooo
Cookin dinner
Lookin no thinner
Gray elbows and
A sudsy sea
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks,
And its not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
Im exploding
With youth and with zest
Who needs corroding
In some vultures nest?
Ive gotta fly my wings
Go places, do things
My freedom bells really
Gonna ring!
Doo doo dooo....(etc.)
Ive been through years
Too many blue years
Now I want new years every eve
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
Not for me
Cant you see
Marriage aint for me
song performed by by Nina Simone

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Shut Down, Turn Off and Ignore
The last time someone said to me,
I couldn't do what I enjoyed in my own hometown.
That I would have to leave to find peace of mind.
With a creative outlook I had that sought activity.
If I wished to witness success believed.
Well...
That I achieved!
And it seems so many years ago.
In a place I was told I should leave and go!
Today...
As I think of those who said,
I had to go away...
To realize those dreams I had in my head.
I think of how embarrassing it must be to feel,
To discourage someone who reveals a determination...
That proves doubters only motivate,
The whims of procrastinators.
And my mama always said to me...
'I know you aint paying me no attention,
Pretending to be listening.'
And my mama was so right.
I've developed when to shut down, turn off and ignore.
Not out of disrespect.
But rather to protect my own survival and footsteps.
Some folks are inspired by deadends.
And I must admit,
The challenge of them and what they present...
Inspires me to remove obstacles.
And I have never been able to explain that to anyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Justification
Sometimes I wish I was dusted.
Under a rug!
And not be dedicated...
To observe those medicated.
I wish to speak my mind,
Most times!
To those who mainline.
To escape from the unkindness,
Shown and many find!
But a growing addiction...
Restricts many to shadows.
Bleeding inside secretly.
Believing no one cares for them.
Their hopes,
Desires or their need to dream.
And 'I' find...
My heart just pounds,
When I see the young folks...
Lying cold on the ground.
And 'I' find...
No reason or rhyme,
Why society leaves these young folks to bleed!
No 'I' don't find,
In my mind...
Justification,
For these sickening times.
Justification,
For these human crimes.
Justification,
For these scenes to blind!
No 'I' don't find,
In my mind...
Justification,
For them left behind.
Nor will I find this,
Justified in these times!
No 'I' don't find,
In my mind...
Justification,
For these sickening times.
Justification,
For these human crimes.
Justification,
For these scenes to blind!
No 'I' don't find,
In my mind...
Justification!
Justification!
Justification,
For them left behind.
Nor will I ever,
Justify these crimes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I Marriage Is For Old Folks
Mort Shuman, Leon Carr
I love dancing
Crazy romancing
Fellas advancing constantly
Marriage is for old folks
Old folks, not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
I love singing
Good healthy clinging
Quietly bringing on a spree
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks!
One married he
One married she
Whaddya got?
Two people watchin' tv!
I'm not ready
to quit bein' free
And I'm not willing
to stop being me
I've gotta sing my song
Why should I belong
to some guy who says
that I'm wrong?
Doo doo dooo
de doo de doo
de-doo de-doo
doo doo doo
dooo
Cookin' dinner
Lookin' no thinner
Gray elbows and
a sudsy sea
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks,
and it's not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
I'm exploding
with youth and with zest
Who needs corroding
in some vulture's nest?
I've gotta fly my wings
Go places, do things
My freedom bell's really
gonna ring!
Doo doo dooo....(etc.)
I've been through years
Too many blue years
Now I want New Year's every eve
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
Not for me
Can't you see
Marriage ain't for me
song performed by by Nina Simone

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gideon Tanner
Now just look, the whole tow-own
Has turned out today
To say a last prayer for me
And Lord only knows
How surprised they would be
If they knew I could see them
And I could hear what they say
Woh, if they knew I could see them
And I could hear what they say
Some say I was a good ma-an
Some disagree-ee-ee
Some folks are sad
So-ome are glad
To see the last of me-ee-ee
I know I was happy ma-an
Most of my day-ay-ays
And through it all
If I had a time or two
It was worth it to me
I'm the last of my fam'ly
So I'm takin' my name
No children do I leave behi-i-ind
To sing Rock Of Ages
For an old warn out cowboy
You can take away my body
But the spirit is mine
Woh, you can take away my body, yeah
But the spirit is mine
Some say I was a good ma-an
And some disagree-ee-ee
Some folks are sad
And some are glad
To see the last of me-ee-ee
I know I was happy ma-an
Most of my day-ay-ays
And through it all
If I had a time or two
It was worth it to me
Some say I was a good ma-an
Some dis-a-gree...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is Poverty?
What does poverty really entail?
How bad does it have to get?
For some a bad economy
Is poverty from where they sit
But if you look back to hard times
During the early years
It’s not having a home to live in
The hopelessness can bring tears
The Great Depression had it all
No jobs and no place to dwell
Barely enough to eat or nothing at all
These folks went through hell
Thread bare was the term for clothing
Dirt poor was a phrase as well
Looking at black and white pictures
Oh yes, you can surely tell
It’s a time when we hope God
Is able to see
That folks need His help because
They have slipped into poverty!
poem by Marilyn Lott

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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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The Things That Matter
NOW that I've nearly done my days,
And grown too stiff to sweep or sew,
I sit and think, till I'm amaze,
About what lots of things I know:
Things as I've found out one by one--
And when I'm fast down in the clay,
My knowing things and how they're done
Will all be lost and thrown away.
There's things, I know, as won't be lost,
Things as folks write and talk about:
The way to keep your roots from frost,
And how to get your ink spots out.
What medicine's good for sores and sprains,
What way to salt your butter down,
What charms will cure your different pains,
And what will bright your faded gown.
But more important things than these,
They can't be written in a book:
How fast to boil your greens and peas,
And how good bacon ought to look;
The feel of real good wearing stuff,
The kind of apple as will keep,
The look of bread that's rose enough,
And how to get a child asleep.
Whether the jam is fit to pot,
Whether the milk is going to turn,
Whether a hen will lay or not,
Is things as some folks never learn.
I know the weather by the sky,
I know what herbs grow in what lane;
And if sick men are going to die,
Or if they'll get about again.
Young wives come in, a-smiling, grave,
With secrets that they itch to tell:
I know what sort of times they'll have,
And if they'll have a boy or gell.
And if a lad is ill to bind,
Or some young maid is hard to lead,
I know when you should speak 'em kind,
And when it's scolding as they need.
I used to know where birds ud set,
And likely spots for trout or hare,
And God may want me to forget
The way to set a line or snare;
But not the way to truss a chick,
To fry a fish, or baste a roast,
Nor how to tell, when folks are sick,
What kind of herb will ease them most!
Forgetting seems such silly waste!
I know so many little things,
And now the Angels will make haste
To dust it all away with wings!
O God, you made me like to know,
You kept the things straight in my head,
Please God, if you can make it so,
Let me know something when I'm dead.
poem by Edith Nesbit

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Not Afrocentric Enough
Years ago...
They acted as if,
I was an embarrassment to them.
Not Afrocentric enough.
Even though I had identity,
Branded on my 'strut-and-stuff'!
My name, Lawrence Suhuba
Yuroban selected.
Doubling the meaning of my given name.
Suhuba (Lawrence) now Lawrence S.
Proud of my heritage and having no shame!
None to confess.
Today I 'strut' with my stuff all over the internet.
Doing what I've done most of my life.
And that's write.
And I might have been an embarrassment to them then...
But 'them' not feeling comfortable to be who they are now,
Should embarrass them more!
Since having no identity today,
Makes little sense since everything folks have lived for...
To impress with materialism has diminished in value.
And everything they are has been invested in it!
My head is held high...
Most times.
If I am not in deep thought!
And...
I might not have a dime in my pocket.
Most times,
My mind tells me I'm worth millions!
And I look to the ground,
Just to make sure I'm not dropping any of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Seen Trickin
Seen trickin'.
There is no secret..
Trickin' people are seen.
Because of the economy,
People feel that trickin'...
Is what they today must do,
To pull themselves through.
With a new definition of desperation...
Deliberate even though it demeans.
Every dime they had save for that rainy day,
Seem to have been raided...
By those masquerading,
To say they represent the coming of better days.
Trickin'.
Some just to eat.
They keep on trickin'...
With a losing battle to protect their dignities.
And no longer lost to find a reason in their minds...
How what they do others may define.
They know they no longer lick that finger lickin' chicken.
Nor dip in catsup those french fries yummy good...
To fatten rubbing thighs and lieing about those diets tried.
No longer are these tricks fixin'...
That roast that sits cooling in the kitchen.
Or that oven baked cake,
Grandma used to make.
These folks are trickin'.
Males, females, shemales and 'its'.
Trickin'...
And hustling up profits made to their benefit.
Attempting to keep that lifestyle from a slip to a slide,
Quicker than it is.
Folks don't care about who sees them trick.
Folks care more about keeping up their habits!
Seen trickin'.
There is no secret..
Trickin' people are seen.
Because of the economy,
People feel that trickin'...
Is what they today must do,
To pull themselves through.
With a new definition of desperation...
Deliberate even though it demeans.
Seen trickin' although it sickens them!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Mine
I've had my affairs.
Flings!
And one night stands I dared.
I've known romance.
Feeling light headed.
And transfixed by ecstasy.
As if tranced!
I've had relationships.
Some so close...
I never thought they would end quickly.
I've felt loneliness and heartache.
And shattered to pieces.
With thoughts in my mind,
I could not take anymore.
But that was before,
I kept opening the same door...
To review my pain.
Over and over and over 'a-gain'.
YES...'a-gain'!
Those times are behind me now.
And today,
The best thing I have learned how to to...
Is to forget and forgive any personal conflicts,
I once knew.
With a thankfulness,
I can mend and be happier...
Than I've ever been!
And I have not stopped to look back,
To figure out what tomorrow will bring!
As long as I have peace of mind 'right now'...
That is all I wish to find in my mind!
Peace!
With an acknowledgement,
I've got it.
Regardless of the time it took to arrive.
It's mine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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