Inspired
Why am I seeking to be controversial?
I am not specifically seeking that at all.
However...
I am inspired to experience my life.
Enjoying the creativity that it offers.
I certainly can not sit to limit myself,
In restrictions.
I am a part of this...
Life as it is.
I am not into the correction of semantics.
Or will allow my creative aspirations,
To become diminished,
By those passing judgements.
In whispered innuendos.
And I am grateful to God...
Who has allowed my existence.
And God has not shown me a sign,
Of disapproval yet.
I suspect,
I am being encouraged!
In fact,
I am motivated to expose my nakedness.
Yes.
In a tastefulness some may reject.
But I am not here to appease the wishes of others.
I am here to deliver every aspect of my gifts.
Take them to enjoy or leave them.
But I will guarantee you this...
There will be something for your mind to tease.
And...
Something for your eyes to lick lips if you please.
And something left to solicit gossip.
To entertain those seeking controversy!
And for free.
Those who know me...
Know I stay broke.
Not a penny to show for my talents.
So don't accuse me...
For my multi-abilities.
And it is going to be there,
Everywhere!
And 'that' seems to be my destiny!
Although I am not above turning away...
Any and all,
Monetary donations!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
With A Seeking To Be Encouraged
I've grown accustomed to view walls,
As a creative opportunity.
I see space with a wanting to use it.
As if to be inspired by what it isn't.
Others have come to sit behind walls,
Feeling blocked and locked in.
With a seeking to be encouraged,
To get up off their asses!
And I have always found time to busy mine,
With a seeking to be encouraged...
Not to sit too long in a comfort to feel,
Temporarily safe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forfeiture
Seeking love,
She lost her innocence;
Seeking security,
She lost her freedom;
Seeking passion,
She lost her honor;
Seeking solace,
She lost her sanity;
Seeking an end,
She lost her life.
Requiscat in pace
poem by John Bliven Morin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Addressing a Reality
What is that you are seeking?
'Seeking?
I'm not in a search to seek anything.
Not anymore.
When I sought my life to live,
With an acknowledgement...
I did too much of that for others,
I found what I needed.
What you observe me doing,
Is a living of my life.
And it took me a while to identify it,
As 'my' life to live.
And it may seem to you I am seeking,
Because of an excitement you see me express.
Seeking?
No.
I am addressing a reality I have found.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Saint I Ain't
If there is anyone seeking,
Anything in my life to taint?
I'll be the first to say...
A saint I ain't!
There is too much to explore.
Too much to experience,
Than to choose it to be ignored.
I want to adventure my life!
And that freedom nature offers.
And I can well afford.
Why should I deny myself...
To please those with their noses in the air?
With their stiff necks.
And their tight high lifted derrières!
People like that...
Can remove their behinds of my track.
The path on which I place my steps...
May shock others to hold their breath.
In fact...
Many like that,
Are busy body pests!
You know the kind...
Those who find time,
To wine and dine their displeasures.
As they pour someone's tea!
And I don't mind at all...
Serving up a full pot of my own for starters.
I want it known...
I can be quite cordial.
Even in the midst,
Of my own possible degradation.
I like to sit...
And listen to this mix of gossip.
The 'seriousness' of it...
Is worth a hasty limited visit.
I choose to do the unexpected.
With God's blessings,
Of course.
If there is anyone seeking,
Anything in my life to taint?
I'll be the first to say...
A saint I ain't!
Or profess to know,
What my 'Creator' wishes.
Like some hypocrites...
Quick to quip from scriptures.
I keep my eye on folks like that!
They can become defensive...
When questioned about their lack of facts.
Nor do I choose to walk on water.
Today...
I probably could.
Much of it is too polluted anyway.
Like some people with minds...
With nothing else to do,
But define how others should be living their lives.
Like 'themselves'...
Who have been certified self righteous.
And gossip as they sit in church pews.
Discussing where the pastor's wife,
Purchased her brand new shoes.
A saint I ain't.
Especially after observing...
Those who make claims,
They are the elite of 'christianity'.
And you can find them anywhere.
Once they have been seen...
Like roosters with hens pecking,
On any scene they pronounce as qualified...
For their self indulgence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Invite, Solicit or Visit. Period
I have never found it alright,
To have others make decisions...
For the way I live my life.
My own parents weren't restrictive,
Or strict.
They made suggestions and that was it.
To have someone decide,
What is or is not for me to appease my appetite...
Is not going to happen.
Unless someone is seeking an argument or a fight.
And at my age I 'will' sleep peacefully at night.
So conflicts to undo my wishes I do not invite.
Nor do I solicit or visit.
Period.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Determined And Disciplined
I had been once told,
My advice given to those...
Wanting careers in the performing arts,
Was a bit too frightening, bleak and stark.
And would scare them away from the field.
Well,
My attitude about that is this...
If it is something desired one wishes,
They will find a way to do it regardless...
Of the opposition,
Seeking to diminish a mind determined and disciplined.
And those skating through creative professions,
Seeking the ease by which to pursue a dream...
Can do that to realize the heights of mediocrity.
However...
A greatness achieved takes a lot of hard work.
And very little sleep to give it life to breathe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Road Of Life
As pilgrims on the road of life,
We journey on with hope,
Through the joy, and through the strife,
Our own kaleidoscope.
Seeking harmony and seeking peace,
Striving to find our way,
Wishing that, all wars may cease,
And trying hard to pray.
As pilgrims on the road of life,
We travel on with desire,
Through the joy, and through the strife,
Our destiny to acquire.
Seeking calm and seeking rest,
Striving to find a place,
Wishing that we could be blest,
With His pure heavenly grace.
As pilgrims on the road of life,
We traverse on with love,
Through the joy, and through the strife,
To our Creator, up above.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Idle Chatter
Just because an act seen can be done,
Does not mean there is a satisfying need...
For a doer dared,
To please with achievement...
A doing baited by the onlookers.
Many with false perceptions assume,
Those who have exposed certain gifts...
Stay up nights...
Strategizing the seeking of further impositions.
To get attention.
And when an attention mentioned is given and received...
A strutting done seen,
Becomes the topic of unwarranted envy.
And a nonstop gossip about an 'ego' flows.
Some folks like to pick other noses!
With an idle chatter sweetened to lick loose lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Don't Accept Uninvited Guests
Choosing to live life as you wish,
Has its limits I am willing to assist.
Meaning...
A probing done into my private business,
May get you to receive one of 'my' wishes...
Gift wrapped with a fist on the end of it.
If I am pushed to produce anger.
And perhaps then it will begin to dawn on you,
I don't accept uninvited guests.
With wishes to appease themselves,
At my expense to be disrespecting to what I protect.
Peaceful I am and ready to offend you or anyone,
To defend my privacy with an unexpected giving...
Done to deliver unannounced.
A novelty to please anyone,
Believing I am to be shown no respect...
Is not my ambition.
To be accepted and approved as 'nice' or liked.
By those who perceive I want that kind of attention.
I will never be accused of being a diplomat...
Or a vote seeking politician.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Introduces Suspicion
Why is it,
People minding their own business...
Are today the ones suspect?
And they are the very same people,
Who wanted to give of themselves...
With interest and a self respect.
The very same people,
Others chose to disregard and reject.
And now those who once gave,
Of themselves to neglect...
Have decided to mind their own business.
And they have become the ones,
Focused upon...
As if their doings,
Will bring them too much attention.
And this introduces suspicion...
Since their peaceful existence,
Poses to others...
With innuendos whispered,
That those with peace of mind...
Should be considered by others as threats!
Even making a decision to mind one's business,
Gives others to feel there is a reason...
To have none of their own.
And the evidence of that is shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thank God For The Critics
It use to bother me when I heard others say,
Who did or did not have talent.
And I believe one who breathes has skills,
Of some kind.
I like to stay in that frame of mind.
Then it dawned on me,
If those who had time to speak negatively...
Of course they would have time to pass judgement too.
And with a 'light' of insight,
I was introduced!
'These are the critics! Enjoy.'
And they seem to despise those who have gifts,
That attracts the attention they wish their efforts could.
If efforts of creativity within them exists.
Rehearsed and practiced until they are driven into fits.
But they don't work at it.
To know the experience.
Nor the requirements of self examination and honesty.
With a mix of naïveté and vulnerability unbelieved.
Keeping an accepted freshness alive.
And talents shine when this is done!
This also inspires and encourages at least 'someone'.
Thank God for the critics.
And those with talents who are inspired to resist,
The exchange done of sharp tongues.
And those with frowning lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Peacefully Kept Secret
I...
Have forgotten,
From where I've come?
This must be something,
You are accustomed to saying to anyone.
Perhaps those you would prefer to see,
An attention to them come.
And that would not be me.
You see...
Not only have I not forgotten,
But I am still living in it.
In the same familiar environment.
I am just not of it!
And I perceive that is what you meant.
Since I hope you are not accusing me of negligence.
That would be an assessment,
From someone with a mind fixed on images...
And not deeds.
And...
That would not be me.
I can not blame you at all!
Who would suspect...
I'd keep an interest in placing my footsteps,
Upon the same sidewalks.
And no one would expect my visions kept,
To reflect upon those unaccepting.
However,
I...
Have 'not' forgotten,
From where I've come at all.
In fact...
I am happy,
To keep my seeking to reach...
Peacefully kept secret.
And I believe that is what you see.
But...
I am not here to focus upon your impressions,
You seek with a validation,
To fuel into an argument.
Or a wasting of my rebuttal to expose a slighted ego.
I am happy,
To keep my seeking to reach...
Peacefully kept secret.
And I believe that is what you see.
To hopefully be kept the way it is,
Peaceful as it has been earned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If You Are Among Those Who See Things
There are those who are lost.
And there are those seeking clarity.
Some see those who are lost,
And seeking clarity.
Those are the ones ignored by all.
Since what they see,
No one wishes to admit.
But then again...
If you are among those who see things,
That have not happened yet...
You have to have more patience!
Just like the dawn awaiting to be enjoyed!
Some will know it exist.
Some will not come to realize it at all.
And there will be those still in argument,
About what happened to them yesterday.
Choosing to stay there and have it relived.
These are the folks left to wonder,
Why they are left alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Obituary
A shaken world of helpless men, seeking answers yet creating questions.Seeking life when they are constantly the reason for death.
Worshiping gods who preach love, in exchange for jihad, gods who place a race of jews above gentiles.
Seeking to free ourselves from racism and yet we spit into different faces, with gods who demand that we take the very lives they say they gave.
poem by Cupid Missed
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To Then Leave
The seeking to get attention business,
Isn't all what it cracks up to be.
Those who seek no attention,
Are chased by those disbelieving,
No one wants to keep peace selfishly...
To be left alone.
And these might be the ones who first sought attention,
Initially.
Now...
Those who seek to get attention,
And with passion disguised by a lust...
Accompanied with deep breathing,
Could frighten someone seeking just to tease.
To then leave quietly...
To then go home to self satisfy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Need Of An Audience
The ones with egos,
Seem to always bring their mysteries...
To be addressed.
With a massaging done constantly.
While those with credentials,
Appear to have less to express.
Bearing nothing with them to appease,
Or tease anyone to impress.
The ego driven,
Seem to wish their interests known.
These folks no one can just walk pass.
As those of true accomplishment,
Deliver their deeds with a speed to be believed.
To leave those who strut,
With pomp vacant of circumstance.
And feeding on a need for attention shown.
Overblown, overstaged and miscast.
Doers of accomplishments,
Never find themselves uncomfortable.
Not in environments where they are left alone.
Wherever they are,
They appear to be relaxed.
Almost as if they wish this to be condoned.
'I'm in need of an audience!
Where can I get an audience quick? '
Are the frantic fed panics of those with egos.
And making themselves sick.
With wishes to flap their lips a bit.
These thoughts are on the minds of those,
With a need to have their egos 'breathe'.
In a desperate unspoken desire to please.
In an approved acceptance they must solicit...
To feel themselves qualified.
Approved!
And undeniably received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To A Stranger
PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me,
as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate,
chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you--your body has become not yours
only, nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass--you
take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you--I am to think of you when I sit alone, or
wake at night alone,
I am to wait--I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you. 10
poem by Walt Whitman
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My Soul Lives With You In Your Dream
I'm thinking of you every day,
And seeking meaning of you in everything,
When i close my eyes to sleep at night,
My soul start seeking you in your dream.
I am the flower from your dream,
That scent to you amazing fragrance,
I wrapped you with my charm and beauty,
And let you to enjoy me every dream you have it.
When my eyes are tired and closing for sleep,
My soul awakes in me and seeking your soul in everything,
In the darkness of life you are my hope and happiness,
When do you sleep my soul lives with you in your dream.
My soul found you in your dream,
And dancing tenderly your soul,
A lovely love story of two souls,
That found each other in a crazy world.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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While Seeking Something More Impressive
They are the first to admit,
A seeking of creative ways to advance...
And exist in all areas,
That will justify their growth process.
But for whatever the reasons,
They have chosen to dismiss...
Those with the creative expertise,
To recommend with suggestions.
And instead look for scholars,
With book sense to limited mindsets...
To guide them in their quest,
To be the best that they can be!
And...
They still will never see,
The forest for the trees.
While seeking something more impressive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I suddenly saw that all the time it was not I who had been seeking God, but God who had been seeking me. I had made myself the centre of my own existence and had my back turned to God.
quote by Bede Griffiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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