In The Midst Of Creating Conflict
Wishing for a past to return to relive,
Has to be those wishes made by the ones...
Doing a procrastinating done.
They did it then and still do now.
And there are many living,
Who believe they are owed to be served.
As if for no other reason they exist.
To live to criticized to bemoan their failures.
And the ones who go unnoticed,
With a sacrificing done to condone...
Take no one or anything for granted.
With a doing not to complain or it shown.
And...
Often those believing they are owed to be served,
Are in the midst of creating conflict...
Anywhere they are allowed to critique and whine.
With a finding of doing this as fulfilling their purpose.
As if to make their presence known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
No One That Is Living Has A Quality Owed
No one that is living,
Has a quality owed.
No one that is giving,
Has a quality owed.
No one who is wishing,
Has a quality owed...
With nothing less,
Than solid gold.
With expectations,
Another holds...
Delivered and quick to give.
No one is living,
To demand and get.
No one is living,
Just to benefit.
No one is living...
Just to sit!
And to get.
No one that is living,
Has a quality owed.
No one that is giving,
Has a quality owed.
No one who is wishing,
Has a quality owed...
With nothing less,
Than solid gold.
With expectations,
Another holds...
Delivered and quick to give.
No one is living,
To demand and to get.
No one is living,
Just to benefit.
No one is living,
Just to sit and sit.
No matter what it is...
To receive without a risk.
And if they don't,
They throw a fit.
No one is living,
To demand and to get.
No one is living,
Just to benefit.
No one is living,
Just to sit and sit.
No matter what it is...
To receive without a risk.
And if they don't,
They throw a fit.
No one that is living,
Has a quality owed.
No one that is giving,
Has a quality owed.
No one who is wishing,
Has a quality owed...
With nothing less,
Than solid gold.
To demand and magically get.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Passion
If they only owned love, shown love, grown love, like this before
If they only knew love, true love, to love, like this before
If they only gave love, saved love, brave love, like this before
If they only called love, love love, called love, like this before
If theyd only showed love, they owed love, owed love, like this before
If they only showed love, they owed love, owed love, like this before
If they only knew love, true love, to love, like this before
If they only gave love, saved love, brave love, like this before
If they only showed love, they owed love, they owed love, like this before
La la la la la, la la la la, la la la la la, La la la la la...
Like this before
If they ever showed love, they owed love, they owed love, they owed love
If they ever showed love, they owed love, they owed love, like this before
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah
La la la la la, la la la la, la la la la la, la la la la...
If they only claimed love, claimed love, claimed love
They maintened love
Instead they drained love, stained love
They didnt control love, my soul loves a whole love, like this before
Received the same love
If they didnt regret love, forget love, say they never met love
If they will love, dont kill love, just be still love (x4)
song performed by by Lauryn Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Ask Me to Critique
When you ask me to critique,
With an opinion that is honest.
Don't expect me to deceive you...
With a sweetened tongue.
And the taste I leave you...
Hints of a bit of salt.
As you prepare to deliver to me pepper.
When you ask me to critique...
I go for the meat.
Not the heat,
When one may be wishing to be honey dipped.
Or perhaps thrown a kiss!
When you ask me to critique,
There is no sweetness dripped!
Unless the offering is fantastic.
And hits a spot I can not resist...
But sit,
And enjoy every nibble of it!
When you ask me to critique.
That's what I will do!
But I rather not to.
Since like you...
I don't enjoy everything I am served.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remember Those Outrageous Points of View
Believing you are owed clarity,
Amuses.
I have no lapses of stored patience
To share.
Or a moment of curiosity left,
That concerns you.
Remember those outrageous points of view I had?
Remember the look of disgust you gave me,
In the comfort of your judgemental friends.
Oh by the way...
What happened to them?
Believing you are owed clarity,
Amuses.
I owe you nothing...
But my back.
And absence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Be Somebody's Hero
It is never ever easy,
To be somebody's hero.
Oh no no no.
With a living of a life,
That's perfect in someone's eyes.
It is never ever easy,
To be somebody's hero.
Oh no no no.
To one day disappoint.
And become the one criticized.
Those who get a whiff of this,
Try to hide their blemishes.
And flaws they cover to dismiss,
A heart that wishes to please.
And...
Alone they seek to be.
Eventually.
No one is perfect.
No no no.
With this their purpose.
No no no.
To exist on the surface.
No no no.
We all have feelings deep!
No one is perfect.
No no no.
With this their purpose.
No no no.
To exist on the surface.
No no no.
We all have feelings deep!
It is never ever easy,
To be somebody's hero.
Oh no no no.
To one day disappoint.
And become the one criticized.
It is never ever easy,
To be somebody's hero.
Oh no no no.
With a living of a life,
That's perfect in someone's eyes.
No one is perfect.
No no no.
With this their purpose.
No no no.
To exist on the surface.
No no no.
We all have feelings deep!
Yeah.
No one is perfect.
No no no.
With this their purpose.
No no no.
To exist on the surface.
No no no.
We all have feelings deep!
And,
At times they can get deeper.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wishing For a Window to Open
You want to sit,
Wishing for a window to open.
To provide a fresh breeze.
And you'd like for someone to do this for you...
As you continue to do as you please.
You rather have the Sun,
Rise on a schedule you condone.
While you confine yourself behind closed blinds...
Peeking to see,
If it is there prepared to be shown!
You want to be served a happiness,
Based on your terms...
And with a degree of sweetness.
You want what you want,
When you choose to want it!
But you will not lift a finger...
To remove the dust you trust,
Will keep intact an excused motivation to live!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Put Out To Graze In The Pasture
Hey
The only thing you can truly say
Is that you 'once' ran a good race
And now that you've aged
And have been replaced
Why put that blame on the jockey?
That jockey is accustomed
To riding on the backs of winners.
And you have fed that purpose.
No matter what spotlight you believe,
You today deserve.
Your purpose has been served.
Get over it.
You've been put out to graze in the pasture.
Whatever you had has been used.
And like the rest,
Who have taken their lives for granted
Your purpose,
Has
Been served!
With or without your consent or lost investment,
You spent at the service of others.
Graze and shut the
Just shut up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here To Leave Their Garbage
I don't allow myself or my time to be played with.
What would be the point to lay back and waste it?
Or complain about others,
Taking their lives too seriously?
Isn't that the purpose?
Neither the time or the experience to live it,
To do 'something' beneficial...
Was not meant to whine and dine,
With a trashing done to take for granted.
Is that the reason why we all are here?
I would think we would want to do our best,
With an appreciation expressed somehow.
However...
Many believe they are here to leave their garbage,
For someone else to clean up behind them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Games Of Procrastinating The Delaying Process Of Age
When that time comes,
And all that has been done...
With a leaving of those holding on,
As if each day faced...
Is not to be lived to their expectations.
Before it is chased away.
There is nothing anyone to them can say,
To be heard to prioritize.
Some just do not get it,
And for them it is difficult to perceive...
Nothing about this existence,
Is here for them to exist permanently.
There are those who sit alone,
In their shadows wishing for those moments...
To relive a past that has slipped from their grasp.
And goes too fast for them to realize it.
And there are those who believe,
They can do as they please.
Only to awaken one day to discover,
Mother Nature is not here to play with them...
Games of procrastinating the delaying process of age.
No leaf hangs onto a tree,
With decisions to make when it is time for it to leave.
And if anyone believes they live to make these decisions...
Will find those things they could have done,
Much too late to do.
Since nothing God creates awaits to be manipulated.
'IF I only had more time to find.'
For the doing of 'what'?
Getting up off your butt?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polished To Present
To prove you have been 'there',
And by others taken for granted...
While they have laid bathing in claims,
That what you have done...
Has been to the benefit of no one.
Stop your being 'there'.
And do not hesitate in the doing of it.
Just stop all that you have contributed.
With a doing shown that has been done.
To allow those you know committed to lip,
And an abundance of procrastinating nonsense...
An experience of your absence.
With a round of new excuses,
Guaranteed from them to be made...
As to 'why' they lack to prove in the showing,
Their attributes submitted...
Whether in the planning stages,
Or polished to present to amaze those who critique.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I owed it to my father that I was elected to Parliament in the first place, but I owed it to my mother that I stuck it out once I got there.
quote by Agnes Macphail
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paying The Price
If for no other reason they exist,
Those who have chosen to self destruct...
Have done this very effectively.
This is not a negative wish.
This is an observation of it.
And they seem to be the ones,
Who approach life from a superficial point of view.
With no depth, no insight, no ambition.
And certainly no respect or discipline shown,
To themselves or others...
They accuse for their lives of 'bad luck'.
Quick to critique the deeds of others.
With expectations to be served.
Since living to take without giving...
And use what and whoever it is,
Without replacing that with acts of gratitude...
Will not from them rise high on their agenda.
Although blaming with a fault to find is what they do.
And abuse themselves and whom they choose,
If not getting on demand what they wish...
Is not on someone else's list to prioritize,
They will promptly deceive with a getting of it.
No matter how blind the eyes in denial.
Or the expense others pay,
To refuse to accept truth.
And usually,
As time goes by...
And today time flies.
They are not alone or by themselves,
When it comes to paying the price.
They are we and we are them and all of us,
Are in this 'thing' together.
And not one of us is a Walrus.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Tour Through The Trees
Trusting in wishes to come true,
Is not the same as embracing a truth that exists.
A long time ago I discovered this.
I've noticed those of strong work ethics,
Were often those who boldly spoke...
And walked with a pride.
I've also noticed those believing they were owed,
For the lives they chose to live...
Complained and leeched a lot.
Many are not prepared,
To take that tour through the trees...
On paths independently taken.
To be alone without a masking of their fears.
Or hear the rustling of the leaves,
As the breezes blow to make sounds unheard before.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Right To Live The Life You Like
You've got to fight,
For that right to live the life you like.
Since nothing is a given.
Or proven to be owed.
You've got to fight,
For that right to live the life you like.
And doing that is always,
Worth more than a purety of gold.
Everything with hard work and earned,
Is not what one wishes to produce to be sold.
Every little piece put together,
One learns to appreciate.
With a holding onto it that validates one's growth.
You've got to fight for that life you like,
Most times,
Wrong or right...
With a pinch of some pain and tear stains to gain.
Everything with hard work and earned,
Is not what one wishes to produce to be sold.
Every little piece put together,
One learns to appreciate.
With a holding onto it that validates one's growth.
You've got to fight for that life you like.
And...
Prepare to get no sleep at night.
You've got to fight for that life you like.
And...
Sacrificing time to get it right!
You've got to fight for that life you like.
And...
Prepare to get no sleep at night.
You've got to fight for that life you like.
And...
Sacrificing time to get it right!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee
Time to show thanks to her Highness,
She's served her country with prowess,
Honour now all that's come to pass,
At street parties fill up your glass,
Toasts made to Elizabeth's health,
Unite realms of the commonwealth,
For that to which the queen made oath,
Respect and praise she is owed both,
There's a lavish use of bunting,
Everywhere's made to look spiffing,
Celebrations promptly begin,
Events for all to partake in,
On the Thames there grows excitement,
Crowds watch the Jubilee Pageant,
Marking 60 years on the throne,
A party of a lifetime's thrown.
poem by Christian Lacdael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Patriot Returns
Battered and broken I return to you
My time spent in battle is finally through
My country served proudly, I stood the test
I fought side by side with our nations best
I am A soldier, A patriot, true to the cause
My American heart beats without pause
Any time any place any where
This soldier will stand tall and be there
I love my country and will protect her at all cost
I fight for the old, the young, the weak and the lost
I fight for an ideal that is greater than I
I don’t complain, or whine or ask why
But for the time being I am home with you
My duty served my task is thru
But I’ll be watching, over there and over here
And I’ll be putting a hand to my ear
For if ever this soldier is again called to fight
I’ll lace up my boots and do what’s right
Look out world the Devil Dogs are on hand
Ready to fight in the air, on the sea or on land
poem by James Waters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perhaps It Is This Lack Of Discipline
Perhaps there was a sense of responsibility,
Others and myself had perceived as a duty...
When we enisted into the military.
As young men with initiative.
And wanting to prove we had accountability.
Perhaps too it was the knowing,
At the age most of us were 21...
Some of us had married and experienced,
Living away from a known comfort zone...
To begin living lives in other environments,
With a making of a home and on our own.
And perhaps that has been,
The reason for my impatience...
With those who today complain,
About decsions they've made to lay on others blame.
Without having the courage to adventure forward,
To adjust to something new and embrace the change.
And perhaps it is this lack of discipline,
Welcomed by immature grown men and women...
Who believe they are owed entitlements,
Given without earning them...
With demands and claims,
That so many today are clearly insane...
And spoiled by their prioritized delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Appreciation For The Highs And Lows
I did not invent motivation.
Nor was initiative,
Sitting in a variety store...
Wishing that it,
I would come along to pick.
And dedication with devotion,
Was not served to me on a silver platter.
No matter how long I sat wishing for dreams to exist.
Something inside of me arrived long ago.
A comprehension to understand...
Yearning without earning,
What I wanted was not going to be...
In stars that glowed.
And the wearing of fine clothes,
Was not prioritized as my objective.
With lessons taught and disappointments bestowed,
I learned that patience wasn't everything I need to know.
I needed to know the connection between hard work, sacrifice...
And arguments I've settled with discipline in stubborn fights,
Helped me open my eyes...
To the kind of world this is I am blessed to live in.
BLESSED.
Without those selfish expectations.
I did not invent motivation.
Nor was initiative,
Sitting in a variety store...
Wishing that it,
I would come along to pick.
No!
I learned to tie my own shoes,
Before I was able to walk.
And dedication with devotion,
Was not served to me on a silver platter.
No matter how long I sat wishing for dreams to exist.
And...
The clearing of weeds off my own path,
Began a process of adventure through hills and valleys...
With an appreciation for the highs and lows,
That never seem to end.
And 'if' that is my task to last...
Who's journey is this I've been given to enjoy?
And FREE.
At no charge to me.
But to live it as it is with a gratitude expressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disappointed
The best way to avoid,
Something allowed to exist...
But now one wishes it to rid,
Is not to create it.
Or make claims to benefit,
Only when it is to one's periodic advantage.
So many insist,
On not being aware of what they've permitted.
To then attempt to remove themselves,
Of any responsibility that reflects their involvement.
As if a conscious investment made...
Disappointed in the expected dividends given.
The best way to avoid,
Something allowed to exist...
But now one wishes it to rid,
Is not to create it.
Or make claims to benefit,
Only when it is to one's periodic advantage.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loneliness Kills
Loneliness kills.
And many who have not yet died...
Are victims of lives,
Where appreciation does not reside inside!
These are the folks who believe they are owed.
Not all but some are selfishly controlled.
Loneliness kills.
And I've witnessed first hand...
Thoughts of suicide.
With feelings I had been a misfit.
Since in my environment...
Disrespect was shown.
And an ugliness to others,
Was commonly known.
But since I have accepted...
My growth and identity that has matured,
I began to compare pure ignorance...
To the smell of manure.
And I had to take my mind away!
From wishing things were not what I observed.
By realizing I had a purpose.
And my life was more than well deserved.
Or I would not be here energized upon this Earth!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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