Impressed By Those I Have Not Met
Why should I continue to ignore myself,
To value the opinions of others?
I use to do that and I stayed depressed.
If it appears I am selfish and self centered,
Perhaps I am deserving of my selfishness.
Maybe I earned it!
Others will not admit my sacrifices.
And I don't wear my heart on my sleeve,
For anyone to know to the degree I've sacrificed.
Others have used other tricks and devices,
To maneuver themselves into the spotlight.
One that is believed I seek and need.
They want to take credit for the steps I made.
Those who make claims to know me and don't.
While making attempts to convince themselves,
And others like them...
I had nothing to do with something I've been doing,
All of my life.
And that is to write!
To do it to impress others,
I have never thought about doing.
But I will admit I am impressed by those I have not met,
Who express they can 'feel' me!
While those who make claims they know where I'm coming from,
Judge on my appearance and the way that I am dressed.
And yet have not a clue as to what it is I do,
To get what it is I do done to make a difference for someone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Who Would Know The Difference
Let's make it up as we go along.
'Make up 'what' as we go along 'where'? '
Whatever is going on!
'And...
That would be different than,
What? '
Pretending we know what we are doing,
With the attempts to convince others...
We have a clue.
We can still keep it to ourselves.
But at least we will feel better about it...
If we, you and I, stopped deluding ourselves.
'You know...
I didn't think of it that way.
Yeah!
What a concept.
Let's do it.
Let's make it up as we go along.
Who would know the difference at this point anyway? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Ever Make a Mistake
If you make a mistake,
Admit it.
And get it right out of your way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape.
Believing what is done is okay!
If you ever make a mistake,
Just admit it!
And get it out of the way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape...
That mistake someday you'll repay!
There's no need for moaning or groaning,
Over what's been done.
No one lives a perfect life,
Under the Sun!
Alibis are like houseflies.
They begin to annoy.
And habits are like pests when invited...
They are hard to destroy.
Even if you hit 'em with a bat...
They come right back!
If you make a mistake,
Admit it.
And get it right out of your way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape.
Believing what is done is okay!
If you ever make a mistake,
Just admit it!
And get it out of the way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape...
That mistake someday you'll repay!
Strap in that saddle and take that ride.
Admit that mistake made,
And push it aside!
'Okay, okay, okay!
So I made a mistake.
So what's the big deal? '
~Getting you to admit it! ~
If you make a mistake,
Admit it.
And get it right out of your way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape.
Believing what is done is okay!
If you ever make a mistake,
Just admit it!
And get it out of the way.
Don't you ever fake it to escape...
That mistake someday you'll repay!
'Okay, okay, okay!
So I made a mistake.
So what's the big deal? '
~Getting you to admit it!
If you didn't...
That mistake would have others that you make!
And with me,
That's not okay! ~
'Geeessshhh...
Okay!
But please...
Stop the song and dance routine.
I get it! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sometimes It's Best To Be Alone!
You with the temper fits,
Need to sit and listen...
To your moans.
You can not handle it,
Those situations committed...
You initiated and condoned.
And you make attempts,
To bring your nonsense...
Inside of others' homes.
The troubles that afflict,
Begins with an outside prodding...
That started your sighing and groans.
And an attention you sought,
Has been denied...
By those you thought were close,
And you could annoy over the telephone.
Those you believed stood by your side.
Sometimes it's best to be alone!
One day you will admit,
Your selfishness has to quit.
Let it decease. Let go!
Move away from it...
On your own.
To become strong with a stiff upper lip,
Can and should do the trick!
Sometimes.
It's best to be alone!
And knowing this will keep you from getting hit!
From someone on the edge,
You have made to show...
They too can go ballistic!
Made mad and deranged,
And quite tired of all your ssshhh...
Yes!
All of it!
Oh yes...
One day you will awaken to admit,
Sometimes it is,
Best to be alone!
To mend and fix your own issues.
Or be laid knockout flat on your back...
Without a choice!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For No Apparent Reason
Those gifted with selected memories,
Never seem to admit...
Their presence at the scene of misdeeds done.
And yet can express to the minutest detail,
Of what someone else to them has inflicted.
As they were innocently being attacked,
For no apparent reason.
While they did the best they could,
To make attempts to comprehend the sense of it.
And this they wish,
With a re-telling of such events...
As convincingly as possible.
However...
There is just one problem in the doing of this.
There are too many people,
Making claims they had been victimized...
Randomly.
Without having any knowledge of their participation.
And the eyes of those who choose to remain sane,
Do their best to keep at distances invisible...
To the doings of those refusing any hints of reality.
Or the phenomenon of the presence of truth.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Too Can Make Thunder Roll
Once it is observed,
And perceived to be easy...
Everyone begins making claims,
They too can make thunder roll.
Lightening strike.
And make snowballs in 80 degree heat.
Everyone wants to shine,
If it means taking less time...
To learn how to do it.
They wish to solicit an assistance,
To reach heights!
With a minimal amount of require effort.
Once it is observed,
And perceived to be easy...
Everyone begins making claims,
They too can make thunder roll.
Lightening strike.
And make snowballs in 80 degree heat.
Everyone believes,
A success achieved can be wished.
While a sitting back to do nothing,
Is a prerequisite.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Emphatically Expressed
A writer doesn't write to attract readers.
Maybe gossip columnists do.
To sell images and ruin a few.
But a writer who is true,
Writes because that is what writers do.
I wrote years before anything I wrote was read.
It wasn't to impress.
Those issues express about me,
Have long been put to rest in my head.
If something I write is read...
I hope a connection is made from what I've said.
Some also make claims they too like to write.
And I say to myself,
'Liking and loving are different appetites.'
No one who 'is' a writer takes it 'light'.
And those who feel this way...
May stay up night after night,
After many a sleepless night.
And it isn't for fame or money.
Trust me on that.
And I thank God what I do isn't done for the glory.
That's another story.
However,
When my contributions do become discovered...
It will be 'seen' there is some depthness meant.
Something within me that seems never to be solved.
Something with content I can not just dissolve.
And there is nothing to glorify,
When someone who writes for nourishment...
To feed others,
Do not think themselves to eat or drink.
Not when a thought comes to possess their minds,
With a desire to be completed.
Coming with a sensation one should heed.
And most of the time this is the writer's deed.
Whether the one who 'writes' gets a wink of sleep,
Or blinks.
And no matter if what is written is accepted,
Or thought to be rejected and stinks!
This kind of discipline...
Does not seek to reach for that attention!
Unless,
Money becomes mentioned.
And only then,
Of course...
What I have just emphatically expressed,
You have my permission to ignore.
Since my intention will take upon another direction,
To excite my need to explore...
With a more deepened Introspection.
I do write.
But biting into a good meal,
Intrigues!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are Nobody With Claims to Make
You are nobody,
With claims to make...
Unless you have sacrificed,
To lay down,
Some beneficial good deeds.
Even 'then' those who have done it,
Are not seeking attention...
To have themselves pleased.
Too often people like these,
Sit in proclaimed self grandiose eloquence...
Convinced their efforts,
Are overdue for praise.
In an expectation to appease their own needs.
Under-rated and overlooked,
By those ungrateful...
Some self serving,
Have gone out of their way!
You are nobody,
With claims to make...
Unless you have sacrificed,
To lay down,
Some beneficial good deeds.
Even 'then' those who have done it,
Are not seeking attention...
To have themselves pleased.
But those with desires to be 'somebody'...
Will prepare to make their proclamations,
Heard by using bullhorns.
If it means disturbing a tranquility!
To arouse a public with their embellished falsities.
'May I have everyone's undivided attention!
Thank you.
If not for my loyal and devoted disposition...
None of you would have known,
Who to see or where to go...
Enabling you to receive your coupons.
Useful to redeem for discounts...
On your purchased necessities.
To which I am sure they are enjoyed.
It was I who initiated that movement.
And deserve your welcomed applause.
If so given.
Only with deep felt humility...
Do I come to satisfy your curiosities.
And yes...
Although I am reluctant to admit this,
It was I who initiated that movement.
Carry on.
Carry on.
Carry on!
There is no need to overwhelm yourselves,
With bewilderment!
Afterall...
I am not running for any electable office,
Suddenly discovered open and available...
To have someone fearlessly represent you.
With understated humility.
IF that possibility in your future should occur!
I am not.
I repeat...
I would not be so incline to accept such an offer.
And even if I should be so approached,
By an assigned committee concluding their research...
Of my qualifications and background.
And...
As a coincidence,
I have brought along a few copies of my bio...
With testimonies and references attached!
For those who may express an interest when time allows,
To televise any suggested interview wished...
I will submit,
To be thusly scrutinized in such a manner.
But let me remind anyone within the sound of my voice...
That I...
Am only here,
For you!
YOU are my only concern! '
~Who is that? ~
*I have no idea!
Not a clue whatsoever.
But I will say this...
He is certainly going out of his way,
To be remembered.*
~I thought those coupons were printed,
For anyone to use in the local newspaper? ~
*They are.
At least once a week! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Difference
I can have wisdom AND knowledge,
With proof to show I do.
And be willing to volunteer my time away,
To those disrespecting I had valuable information,
That could benefit their lives.
And not ask from them a single dime.
I could be that person with no knowledge at all.
Had no wisdom to speak of and no time to volunteer.
But...
If I had made a name for myself,
And made 'claims' of my abilities.
With my name bright up in lights for all to see them flash,
People would flock to pay to see me.
And the doing of that may not be beneficial to them,
A bit.
But just to say they witnessed it.
The difference?
Someone who makes claims,
And has established a name...
With no wisdom to share proving knowledge is there,
Would be more respected to those not receiving benefit,
Than the one having what they need.
Why?
People have become more impressed,
By those addressing pretentions.
Than they are receiving opportunities,
Handed to them for free to meet their needs...
By those who do not impress them with image.
And those with image they seek to pay huge sums,
To get nothing for them done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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More Out Of It Than In and Under Spotlight
I never intended to master subservience.
And respect I find difficult to give,
To anyone incompetent.
That makes little sense to me.
I know the difference between child's play,
Work and having relaxing fun...
Doing nothing at all but chilling out!
Without one concern to worry about.
I feel freer than many who are attached to things,
With such an obedience to keep them.
As if those 'things' were limbs extended.
To express a level of achievement.
And the more I pursue dreams,
With a wish to fulfill each one.
I find I have become more strict and limited,
Than those who speak of their conservative ideologies.
And that is a frightening premise,
Coming from one who claims to be a nonconformist...
In appearance.
As not to conflict with a given physical image.
Hey...
It is all showbiz.
Busy giving show!
And being serious about life,
More out of it than in and under spotlight.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Influence
What makes you think that I'm not thinking?
Or observe from experiences forced to live?
Opinions you have of me are shrinking...
Gone are negative thoughts you give!
What makes you think you have influence?
When your own backyard is in disarray?
You made attempts to have others ignore me.
But from you they have gone away.
Claims you made have now been disputed.
Petty is your mode of thought.
You have chosen envy and deceit.
And enemies you created...
Have brought to you defeat!
You elated in plans unjust.
Backstabbing those by gaining their trust.
Now that you have been exposed as a demon.
Others like you are being sought to crush!
What makes you think that I'm not thinking?
Or observe from experiences forced to live?
Opinions you have of me are shrinking...
Gone are negative thoughts you give!
And I like many seek a life that's positive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Protesting In The Nonsense Called Denial
Like it to accept or not,
But those sharing deceits...
Are people of equal mentalities.
To gather together to make claims of being neglected.
And those looking for physical differences,
To live one step above the other...
Forget,
On which common soil...
There is a placing of similar footsteps.
With the going through the same process.
To gather together to make claims of being neglected.
And to make accusations they do,
That are seen to be reflected and familiar...
Only upsets the ones refusing to see themselves.
And those who refuse to see themselves,
Are all over the place...
Protesting in the nonsense called denial.
And...
To gather together to make claims of being neglected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Here to Give
I am here to give.
Not wallow away,
In your solicitation...
To be understood for 'your' insecurities.
While you self indulge,
Seeking opportunities...
To feed more of your greed.
Or subject myself to listening to testimonies,
Of how your needs are not being met to please...
More of your selfishness.
I am here to give.
And feel blessed...
I am not caught up,
In attempts to make impressions.
'But you ain't got a penny and your pocket.
Or a bucket to carry anything claimed you own.'
Who is to say I was the one needing those things?
And someone else didn't?
Like I said...
I am here to give.
And not to impress...
You or anybody else,
In the doing of what it is 'I' do!
Does that provide you with a hint or a clue,
As to how I feel about your assessment made of me?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Makes You Cry?
Now Ive got a question baby
What makes you cry?
cos I havent seen any water
In the corners of your eyes
For a day, or a week
Or a month, or a year
Havent seen much of you
Since you left me my dear
Cant you see that Im hurting
How Im falling apart
Dont you care about my drinking
Or my poor lonely heart
I thought you liked football
You didnt mind those videos
And my dog didnt mean
To ruin your clothes (he cant help it)
Now you wont take my phone calls
You sent my letters back
Youre paying for a lawyer
To stab me in the back
Then I saw you on the street
You looked happy, thats a fact
Im impressed - its a hell of an act
Angel - admit it, admit it
Darlin - admit it, admit it
Your love for me didnt die
Its just sleepin
Now I hope you can hear me
Wherever you are
In a cheap hotel room
Or the back seat of a car
I make up those situations
I dont know if theyre true
But Ill tell you, for now, theyll do
Angel - admit it, admit it
Darlin - admit it, admit it
Your love for me didnt die
Its just sleepin
And it wakes every night
To your weeping
Now Ive got a question bady
What makes you cry?
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eventually They Discovered Him To Be Their Teacher
Actively and from behind the scenes,
There were those who took it upon themselves...
To ensure his deeds he wished to see accomplished,
Were minimized.
And to their surprise attempts made to deny him,
Did not make a difference in his outward appearance.
And, in fact, he seemed happier than he had ever been.
And when it was revealed to them his sacrifices made,
With an exhausting of himself and unafraid...
By putting his neck on the line like no one else,
They then began to accuse him again to charade...
His expressing of a concern.
Or that he showed outwardly he had learned,
Any lessons at all they thought they were teaching him.
Eventually they discovered him to be 'their' teacher.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Make Claims Of Your Innocence
You can make claims of your innocence,
To others who may be convinced of it.
Until your naps turn straight,
And hold your breath with a pouting face.
The fact remains...
Your claims are untrue.
At this time and place,
What has happened in the past...
With the lies you've told,
To cover your manure with fresh planted grass...
Doesn't make a difference to me.
I have distanced myself from that existence.
And whether you speak to me or not,
Without admitting what you have started...
With the dropping of your negative debris,
Has been erased just like you have been...
From my memory to believe,
The actions you've taken to such a degree.
To me...
You will always be a child.
With pretentions done behind a faked smile.
Seeking tolerance for your deliberate misdeeds.
With a hope to be perceived as someone with integrity.
I no longer think of you with it to know what it means.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poetry
Only place where I feel at home is poetry
Everywhere else I am always lost
Nothing seems proper, when verses of English poems are not present
All that I feel like doing is write and write
Sometimes, I do admit that I do get lost
However, I really belong only with poetry
Still, I always feel that nobody ever does understand my feelings
A blank space is always present within my heart
As sometimes I start to feel that things which I express are not good enough
I do not really know why?
This is just how I feel sometimes
Since, often the mode of being depressed comes to my life
Then, I become a depressed poet who has only past memories
Nothing else I have as remaining to love or care
However, still I keep on penning things, only to still remain alive
Otherwise, I would be dead without words
Only place where I belong is poetry and here I feel being at home.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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I Want
Everybody wants the truth
But everybody lies
Everybody wants some proof
But everybodys blind
So open up your eyes
I really dont know much of anything at all
But Ill admit were all the same
You ask forgiveness and you make the same mistakes
And Ill admit were all the same
I want to know
Do these words mean anything?
How can this life mean more than what it seems?
Everybody wants equality
But were all prejudice
Were all hypocrites
Everybody wants the world
But we have nothing
I really dont know much of anything at all
But Ill admit were all the same
You ask forgiveness and you make the same mistakes
And Ill admit were all the same
I want to know
Do these words mean anything?
How can this life mean more than what it seems?
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are Such An Actor
You have been a highly acclaimed person,
For a number of years.
And yet you do not appear to be on anyone's radar.
Very few people know who you are.
Why are you flying so low?
Is that intentional?
'What are you saying?
What point are you making? '
If more people knew who you were,
You would be respected more.
'And that is a very sad commentary to make,
About today's people.
Isn't it?
To think one has to first impress others,
With a doing that gets attention mentioned...
To then be treated as a human being?
Oh, I just wake up everyday praying,
For that kind of notoriety! '
You should.
'And why is that? '
It would make me feel better to say,
I know you.
'Stop it. Stop it.
The thought of it gives me goose bumps.
To think my efforts known by more people,
Would enhance the only purpose you have in your life...
To feel better about yourself.
Oh 'wow' I'm beginning to feel such a rush that thrills me inside.'
You are such an actor.
'And you should find something else to do,
Than wasting your time trying to find how mine operates.
If I sought to seek that kind of attention,
I would have long devoted myself in re-creating the wheel.'
And what does that mean?
'Having no ambition and stealing from others,
What had already been invented.
To then set my aim to make claims of what I've done.
With my eyes affixed to fame and glory.
Like nearly everyone who wishes a 'Reality Show'.
Why haven't you done that?
That would have made it a lot easy for me to accept.
'With the giving to me respect,
Right? '
Of course.
Those reality shows are so...
Real.
'And hollow of any sign of content.'
Yep. You are out of touch.
'Thank you.
And I am glad very few have noticed,
Just how distant and out of touch I am and can be.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A Demanding Of Credit To Be Given
There are those,
Who wish NOT to be given credit...
For those deeds they did not do.
Even though they may have provided,
The motivation.
And there are those,
Who wish to take credit...
For deeds they did not do.
And will make claims,
They were instrumental...
In getting those deeds done.
With a demanding of credit to be given,
To them!
Just for their association of knowing 'who'
Has perform those tasks.
With a customary delivery of much embellishment.
They wish to get,
What they so richly do not deserve.
An attention that is mentioned.
With a spotlighting done on their lack of skill.
And an absence of talent...
Believed is their right to steal.
And today...
These thieves seem to be everywhere.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Naïveté
I can understand why some people are perceived as naïve.
I once believed everything I was told.
Never thinking anyone would have something up their sleeve.
Or be as cold,
To make attempts to deceive.
Or be as bold.
But did if they could!
Making me distrust...
When as a child as I grew up,
In my neighborhood.
Trying to be 'good' with a lingering innocence.
But feeling duped and stupid.
With a naked sense of vulnerability.
And doing my best...
To keep that and my curiosity protected.
I was an unusual child!
And those were the rough years.
When people said anything to impressionable kids!
And I did my best to try to tell the difference.
I tried to keep my awareness hidden...
By the silly things I often did.
Those times today...
Don't seem that far away.
And still there are people who dupe others.
Either to get under someone's sheets...
Or lie sweetly to get something wished as a treat!
And not being discreet about these transgressions at all!
Playing on the minds of those known to show kindness.
And caring less how they get what they get when they get it!
But in the end...
Their failures come to light!
Becoming the ones stunned...
When their lives come crashing to a fall!
Becoming the ones proving they too can look dumb!
And reacting with naïveté...
When they are the ones passed,
By others observing them as they crawl!
It just appears as something natural that they do!
Who knew...
They just enjoyed the screwing done?
And not getting it in return too?
'Do unto others,
As you would have them do unto you.'
Isn't that 'old' saying said yesterday...
As good today and just as true?
But I must admit,
They do look out of place.
Looking pitiful as they do the 'boo hoo'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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