In Need Of A Magic Wand
Those tentacles of greed...
Have reached to squeeze,
Common sense...
From the minds of humanity.
And those who planted these seeds,
Believing a selfish feeding would continue...
Are stunned by the outcome of their deceptions.
What has been unleashed...
Can not be contained,
By a promise to bake homemade cookies.
With an invitation sent,
For a diversity to be represented...
In civilized talks about the weather,
Around the kitchen table!
Those clearing skies,
Are now in need of a magic wand!
Without the use of special effects,
Produced from behind a brocade curtain!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Misspoke
'Sir...
We clearly have you on videotape
Saying you baked those cookies.
When in actuality,
You did not.
If you are expected to be selected,
As our choice to lead...
We need immediate clarification.'
I must apologize.
On several occasions,
I now admit to saying...
~I baked those cookies.~
You see...
It was many years ago,
When I begged from door to door...
For a taste of homemade chocolate chip cookies,
I was made to feel inadequate.
Until one day...
Out of the blue,
I decided I could and would bake my own cookies!
'But sir...
These are 'not' your cookies.
You might have tasted these cookies.
However...
Your baking them is a false statement.'
Baked, ate...
Tasted!
What difference does it make?
I misspoke.
Can we move on?
There are other more important allegations to lie about.
And besides...
It's just an election.
What's the big deal?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Oh Those Cookies Made
You hooked me with your looks,
And also cooking, 'bay-bee'.
Your speciality is baking sugar cookies, 'bay-bee'.
And a tasting of your cookies,
Is my favorite crave...
I rush to get to savor.
Because the flavor makes them great...
I've lost my patience to wait.
Oh your cookies made,
Are the best I've ever savored.
Yes your cookies made.
Is a taste that can't get better.
Oh...
Those cookies made,
Are fun to munch in any weather.
Yes,
Those cookies made.
Your cookies made.
Oh...
Oh your cookies made,
Are the best I've ever savored.
Yes your cookies made.
Is a taste that can't get better.
Oh...
Oh those cookies made,
Are fun to munch in any weather.
Yes,
Those cookies made.
Your cookies made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Seeds Of War
When the seeds of war are sown,
hardly is it ever known
who has planted it
and what for?
Was it about
blood and gore?
When the seeds of war take root
it's hidden reasons make us mute.
Why was it planted
and by whom?
Was its purpose
doom and gloom?
When the seeds of war are grown
never is it ever shown
how it is planted
in men's mind?
How it's made them
all so blind.
When the seeds of war do thrive
many will not be alive.
They'll be planted
in false graves.
These seeds propel
how the world behaves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Mothers Love
Never be judgmental
Never be full of greed
Always be humble
Always remember those in need
Give of yourself without expectations
Never do for others for self-gratification
Always be true to yourself and others
You will see life in beautiful colors
Life is a gift....never to be taken for granted
Seeds of life we all have planted
Of all the gifts we were given
The gift of Love is the greatest
Love is free
Love is to be given unconditionally
You have already planted your seeds
I watch as you blossom and bloom everyday
I love you more than words can say
Each of you are special in your own way
Never be judgmental
Never be full of greed
Always be humble
Always remember others in need
poem by Susan K Hahn
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Unfamiliar With It
The most difficult thing to do,
For one in a leadership position...
And is capable to lead,
Is to show an accountability witnessed...
But not from this one is it believed!
With aptitude to accept responsibility.
And the people represented are so unfamiliar with it.
They denounce the ability of this leader.
Since he performing duties of one...
They had never before seen.
So assured of himself...
They feel demeaned.
Incredible!
And they are stunned.
The people represented are so unfamiliar with it.
Especially coming from someone,
Labelled 'this one'.
And believe they do with false perceptions,
A true leader should be waving a magic wand.
Since then from them...
All their troubles would be gone.
And the one chosen in their hour of need...
Has not proven worthy,
To produce the magic they expect.
Not the magic they perceive.
So blame and accuse him they do,
For being human too!
Having his feet to get wet.
And not showing a sign,
Of being able to walk on water.
They turn their backs on him to shun in regret.
This has left them disgruntled and vocally upset!
They protest his leadership.
With claims he doesn't represent what they should get!
And he knows if he should leave...
They would be left to profusely bleed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stop Trying to Find the Logic in Everything
The trouble with people feeding their greed,
And perceiving their feeding to hoard
To be an eternal process,
For themselves to be kept stored.
With no one else to profit from a process,
Not stopped.
Is...
Well,
One day to be revealed as preventable.
Even their selfish deeds must come to an end.
Whether or not...
They believe what has been available,
Has been diminished without the consciousness
Of their active input,
To keep what is missing their responsibilty
To nourish the flourishing that is obviously,
Absent from their purpose.
And those who live just to feed their greed,
Do not realize they place themselves in jeopardy.
Although they are not aware of this
Behind walls of a blocked isolation.
Perceived from a direction of its inception
To be an envied way a life.
Needing at their own expense to protect.
Even if that expense is aided by depending
On the discreet and secret borrowing from others.
'I thought you said 'they' were our enemies?
Them and they and those others? '
Who cares?
What is more important?
Impressing with our pretentions
Or being honest with ourselves?
'None of it makes any sense.'
When did the feeding of one's greed,
Ever made any sense?
Hmmm?
It is a standard that is valued.
We thrive on our pretentions!
Remember that.
Stop trying to find logic in everything.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For My Mother
My dear sweet mother Kay,
Is so very special in every way
Her heart is really big and pure,
And never needs any cure
No matter what the time may be,
She has always been there for me
I was shown by her how to bake,
All the Christmas cookies that I make
She's also been a second mother,
To Kristen, my own daughter
Hardly ever selfish is she,
For the good thing she likes to see
I'm so very blessed to have her here,
Because she really is such a dear
Written and dedicated to my mother Kay, on Mother's Day 2009.
poem by Janice Herzog
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Diversity Spices Communities
simplicity and complexity
embraces in diversity...
diversity spices globally
diversity individuality polarity
diversity spices community...
diversity flavours humanity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Who Creates These Images?
Greed and excess,
Has produced less profits...
And success.
So those responsible,
For feeding this nonsense...
Seek to do their business,
On foreign shores.
So through exits...
Those feeding selfish needs,
With a seeking to stay afloat...
Had to go!
Leaving those excessively greedy,
Protesting about their rights...
To receive without limits.
And spoiled with the notion they are entitled.
And born to do as they wish and as they like...
For the rest of their lives.
'THAT's NOT TRUE! '
Yells the voice of reason and reality!
'WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO PAY ATTENTION TO ME? '
When the last of the pennies are taken from the piggy bank...
Why do people then get upset about pigs?
Who creates these images?
Maybe that is the reason for the lack of accountability!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Many Have Suppressed Their Depressions
Too many have suppressed their depressions.
And had shied away from expressing they are upset.
Protesters seem to be doing their best,
To be civilized with the hiding of their regrets.
With a wish they had not let themselves,
Gather into the streets to protest a greed.
When those homeless and needing to eat,
And a place to sleep...
Should have long ago sent warnings,
How those who are obviously in need...
Could be easily ignored by those who continue,
To feast as if nothing else is noticed.
Too many have suppressed their depressions.
And no longer shy away from expressing they are upset.
Protesters seem to be doing their best,
To be civilized with the hiding of their regrets...
With a wish they had not let themselves,
Gather into the streets to protest a greed.
Believing themselves to be right.
Because they are mostly...
Well,
Fighters for fading entitlements...
That are being erased from their eyesights.
And if this was not happening to them at all,
It would be poverty as usual...
For 'those' people to experience.
You know...
The ones too lazy to get a job.
Or find a decent wage to feed themselves and families.
Under a roof they can afford.
You know...
'Those' people who had never been accepted,
By the whims of 'them' with their selected druthers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I was not a classic mother. But my kids were never palmed off to boarding school. So, I didn't bake cookies. You can buy cookies, but you can't buy love.
quote by Raquel Welch
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Homemade Music
Homemade music
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, russell kunkel
1988
I ran into an old friend of mine in miami and I asked her where she had been all these years. she told me she had, died and gone to the suburbs. the next day I read where the japanes
Bought cbs records and figured that somehow these two events had to be related.
I aint no video king
I still have to sing
For my supper each night
You stand on the benches
I play in the trenches
Beneath the big spotlights
Lived in a suitcase for half of my years
I got strange little voices that live in my ears
Hall monster, mall monster
I cant be the old me no more
Chorus:
Homemade music aint on the radio
Homemade music searchin high and low
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
Cookin is a pleasure
Singin is a treasure
That most dont find
There aint no harm in tellin
I likes to eat my melon
Right on down to the rind
I had a hippie girlfriend when I was a kid
She died and went to the suburbs most of em did
Raisin puppies, having yuppies
Where did all the wild ones go
Chorus:
Homemade music aint on the radio
Homemade music jam it in, close the door
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
First there were records then cassettes and cds
Managers and lawyers then came the japanese
But homemade music still making sense to me
(sense to me, sense to me, sense to me)
Chorus:
Homemade music is funky and nice
Homemade music skates on very thin ice
Homemade music is part of my philosophy
Chorus:
Homemade music aint on the radio
Homemade music jam it in, close the door
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
Homemade music, give me my homemade music
Homemade music, should be on the radio
Dont dig that reglar bunk
The neville brothers got the funk
And homemade music should be on the radio
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ambrosial Scents
Ambrosial scents,
I begin to sense.
Perfume of the gods...
Enticing with temptation.
And as I walk along,
Alone in the soothness of the forest.
This fragrance becomes so strong.
I am feeling here is where I belong.
And I know I approach...
A clearing that encroaches upon my mind.
A clearing that finds me undoubtedly,
Accepting with a focus...
That opens with a welcoming of this invitation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Are 'Rumors' That Many Are Fed Up With It!
A desecration allowed,
To outrageously disgrace...
Values of our respectful ancestors,
Should not have been permitted at all...
To have taken place,
To cause foundations to fall...
For purposes of renovating,
A facelift degenerating.
Crediting the feeding of greed,
Would be too easy to relieve many...
Of their irresponsibility.
Or those rushing to unload,
An accountability...
Few have chosen to behold.
But is greed alone,
That had been condoned...
The only factor,
One disowns a pride and dignity.
With a scolding tongue unfolding,
Obscenities...
That would come to destroy,
All of humanity?
Is one's lack of consciousness,
So intimidating...
That the onslaught of thoughtlessness,
Would diminish the minds...
Of a once advance society,
Into a helpless and disturbing swirling whirpool...
To create a decadence to breed,
Leaving the majority...
As so incline to be defined,
To become the ones observed as fools!
Who's game of pocket pool is this?
That goes unchallenged with a fixation...
Those onlookers are afraid to disqualify.
And would be stunned if suggested,
This game played with their lives...
Should be dismissed as requested.
'There are 'rumors' that many are fed up with it! '
Can those of intelligence,
Become the people blamed for this decrement?
And who championed the voices,
To extradict the demise of common sense?
And who took it amongst themselves to quiet the ones,
Who spoke against the implementation of misdeeds done?
Or,
How about this...
The rising of a steadfast ignorance.
That has all convinced...
The only way to move forward,
Is to repetitively visit...
The stagnating hold of a total darkness,
Considered by those without vision...
As the absolute experience of a bliss,
That is missed.
'There are 'rumors' that many are fed up with it!
But choose many do to keep their 'rants' private.
In a whispered and unheard silentness,
Continued to be done...
And kept as their 'secret' wish! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rare
I am acquainted with several people,
Who have earned BA, MA and Doctorate degrees.
And it would be wonderful 'if'...
Their knowledge and focus to obtain certificates,
Was as equally devoted in the use of their 'competence'...
As are their eyes on 'things' and what money brings.
With the assistance of decreasing but not adding onto...
The climbing economic deficit!
Not to say they are among those greedy.
Or perpetuating the increase of gluttony!
However...
If they are servicing the needy with a teaching how to feed,
They are to be applauded.
Since rare in a capitalistic society,
Are those motivated to show or expose...
Humanitarian qualities.
It is the feeding of a greed,
That most seek to achieve a higher degree of feeding.
There aren't too many Oprahs and Ellens,
Represented in the mix!
Being about to afford what they do has little to do with it.
And 'rare' are the minds that these two exhibit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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True Wealth Vibrant Life Diversity
life spirit fly free
over past blind
humanity boundary
restore balances
in complex nature
harmony diversity
humanity learn greed
is not gold
edible sustainability
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Limitating Foolishness
Those of narrow minds of self centeredness,
Believing they alone can manipulate...
That which has a Supreme Intelligence.
Have based their perceptions...
On a feeding of myths.
A feeding that soon...
Comes to reveal such limitating,
Foolishness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Looks On Faces
It has been historically reported,
Commandments were sent...
To be obeyed as ordered.
There were ten of them.
Depending on recommended versions...
All of which ignored.
To be followed...
Not amended as wished.
But a need for satisfactions...
To a detriment,
Was explored.
To redefine The Almighty's wish!
Man chose to dilute these truths.
With laws to complicate the basics.
And today humanity faces,
Consequences to embrace...
With looks on faces fed with greed.
And difficult to replace a created disgrace.
But actions are not traced...
Back to a feeding that chose to disbelieve!
And that feeding still exists.
With screams from protestors...
In demands for more of it!
With looks on faces...
Addicted with insistence,
To a feeding of more of their greed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sedated
It's time to dropp hopscotched ideals.
Limited in isolation...
Within the minds,
Of those locked in and boxed.
Guilt rides them with fear.
No sleep comes near them at night.
A contained anger,
Keeps them in beliefs...
Their way of life is right.
Although a solicited greed,
Has pushed them to the brink.
Fading values and standards,
Are spoken of as treasures...
With such a seriousness,
Their fixed eyes do not blink.
Their very existence relies,
On the marketing of decadence.
And once great foundations...
Are decaying more rapidly than common sense.
Guilt rides them with fear.
No sleep comes near them at night.
A contained anger,
Keeps them in beliefs...
Their way of life is right.
It's time to dropp hopscotched ideals.
Limited in isolation...
Within the minds,
Of those locked in and boxed.
Although a solicited greed,
Has pushed them to the brink.
Fading values and standards,
Are spoken of as treasures...
With such a seriousness,
Their fixed eyes do not blink.
As if they have been...
Sedated!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Magic Always
There's magic when we hold hands
When you slip your fingers into mine
The memory always lingers
Magic always does happen
Within the feel of your palm
There's magic when we stare at each other
With no words spoken at all
The fire always burns
Magic always does happen
When I'm lost, staring at you
There's magic whenever we kiss
When your lips feather mine
I thirst for more of you
Magic always does happen
As my throat constricts
There's magic when we make love
On cloud nine to the skies above
I yearn for more of you
Magic always does happen
When you send shivers through me
I'm your tricky wand
And you're my magician
Please wield magic with me always
poem by Emmanuel Emesakoru
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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