Interpreted As Conformity
In those slower days,
A dependable pace was kept.
And met on a regular basis,
With certainty.
When one could almost guarantee,
What those events would be tomorrow.
But those yesterdays with their tomorrows gone,
Are never coming back to keep pretentions intact...
For those to flaunt their upturned noses.
No!
Today the change amongst us is more of the mind.
Information collected is at a much faster pace.
Leaving behind those of a limited thought process,
Seeking to maintain control as once digested to accept...
Over that which has already been erased as outdated,
By those choosing truth as a preference to manifest.
Instead of ignorance as a choice to interpret as conformity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rapid Is The Information
Rapid is the information.
Too much perhaps,
But the facts are clear...
It is here.
Blurring the minds and fixed visions,
With such speed and precision.
And fearing are those who can not keep up.
With down on their luck blues to sing.
And nerves quickly plucked,
By their own closed and shut inhabitions!
Listening to tired conversations,
Wishing to manifest a redigesting...
Of yesterdays gone,
Is sad to witness and observe...
Such listlessness gone undisturbed,
By a jolt of motivation.
Or something that provokes slow pokes,
To ignite with urgency.
Was that served and deserved?
With an intent to have many feed their gut,
With gluttony.
And not their minds to fine tune,
With the times?
Rapid is the information.
Too much perhaps,
But the facts are clear...
It is here.
Leaving that and those 'tomorrows',
Far behind!
Faster than the batting of an eyelash!
And...
With the thoughts of them,
Easier to put off...'then'!
With the best of procrastination skills,
Many have adopted as professions.
But the facts are clear...
Whatever is here and experienced right now,
Is on the move.
It has 'already' gone!
And anyone desiring to torment themselves,
Because of it...
Will find they are not alone!
Others also made decisions to deny their dreams!
With hopes that tomorrow would do for them,
What today did not...
Do for them!
And just like all of those yesterdays they 'lived'...
Moaning and groaning,
To find excuses not to do it!
And to find that just as rewarding,
As the discovery of fresh complaints...
Is a waste of time to address.
These folks...
Are not the 'Oh! -I've-got-it-now' kind.
Rapid is the information.
Too much perhaps,
But the facts are clear...
It is here.
To distribute to those who receive it.
And not here to give attention,
To those who don't!
And THAT is 'thee' reality!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Run! Chase! Do
Run!
To get the doing of it done.
Chase!
To keep up with the pace,
Of a treacherous rat race.
With a doing of it,
As if something real is there to accomplish.
And this will come to satisfy,
A driven need to succeed!
But at what?
Addressing impressions pretentions make?
Run! Chase! Do...
On borders of disorder,
Run.
With time wasted making life shorter.
Run! Chase! do...
Find that perfect place,
Where all headaches are erased.
Run!
To get the doing of it done.
Chase!
To keep up with the pace,
Of a treacherous rat race.
And...
With a doing of it,
As if something real is there to accomplish.
And this will come to satisfy,
A driven need to succeed!
But at what?
Addressing impressions pretentions make?
And if not approved...
Will a disappointment allow a follow-up,
More accepted in its place?
Run!
To get the doing of it done.
Chase!
To keep up with the pace,
Of a treacherous rat race.
Do...
To get done.
To hate it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maybe Tomorrow
you ask for today
i do not have
today, maybe tomorrow
i may have tomorrow
inside my hands
wait for another day
or another week
or another year
maybe tomorrow
maybe
i cannot give you today
what i have is this past
that you cannot accept
and i cannot offer you today
because i cannot afford
it.......
today i am nothing
but tomorrow, if you can
wait, i may have tomorrow
whole and full
inside my hands, yes, yes,
tomorrow,
i have lots of these tomorrows
my dreams
my hopes
inside the basket of my hands
clasped by the gentle cups
of my heart
wait, please wait, do not die yet
we still have tomorrow
that is all we have
a bunch of tomorrows
sweet sweet tomorrows
dreams, hopes, wishes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Or Out of Tune
Clip or snip frustrations and toss!
Be done with regrets at any and all cost.
Events unchanged will remain the same.
Take a deep breath...
And leave behind what was left.
You can't correct it!
Don't waste your breath.
Confined to a time your mind can't let go?
Define it as it is.
Why stop the life you live?
Grow and flow with it.
Throw away those mental fits!
A perfect life no one has.
And exceptions are few and far between.
No need for opinions or surveys to pass.
Those days of truth and honesty,
Are getting very lean!
Faster than the quiet passing of gas.
It can be sniffed!
But who is going to admit they did it?
If you are awaiting,
For a wholesomeness to appear?
None will be coming!
Not soon on this scene!
And somehow that view,
For you is not clear!
And my assessments to you are mean!
I'm not seeking to harmonize
With this melody at all!
Whatever has taken place,
To slow and stop your pace...
To relive good tidings,
In your head must be chased away!
To move forward from where you are...
Must be done!
Forget about what is fair!
Very few even care,
About you or the scars you bare!
That's not a sadistic wish.
It's a reality somehow you have missed!
And I am not expecting
You to accept what I say as fact!
The environment you live in...
Should have by now exposed you to that!
Put away your pity pot and get up off your back.
Others around you singing the blues,
Could care less about you singing them too!
In or out of tune!
Or...
If you delight,
In patting your foot
On top of fresh manure!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who I am today that I wasn’t yesterday
Many today’s have passed
I am left here standing
standing at the side of the road
the road of time.
I watch tomorrow coming
Today passes by with a great wuush
and fades into yesterday
many yesterdays ago I was something
I was trained and hard a killer eyes sharp
my mind was a machine for malice
Oh I long to go back for one reason
I knew who I was I knew what I was
Now so many today’s and tomorrows
from that long distance yesterday.
who am I today that I wasn't yesterday
poem by Cody Moore
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Still Between Maturity
It shouldn't.
But it does...
Sit,
Within my consciousness.
Grown folks.
Still between maturity,
And provoking childish sentiments.
They can't get over themselves,
Or events from those days...
Time has from them erased.
But there they remain,
Trying to change...
What is.
As if what isn't is there for them to relive!
To recapture to re-interpret their misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Facts of Life
It's to be understood.
Not discussed.
To do so will bring upon shame.
A certain digust,
Will lead to finger pointing and blame.
That's why when it is mentioned...
There is a rush to hush it!
There may be claims made,
To defame those proclaiming their righteousness.
And the status of those
Who have established themselves...
As household 'names'.
It is best to leave this gossiped.
Best to play the rumor game.
It is best to whisper this in ears.
To let it simmer first to ignite the heat!
Then pass unnoticed through the streets...
While observing those who did not know,
Engage in a flaming rage...
As their tempers flare and increase!
Leaving are those who chose to maintain their silence...
To live their lives with peace of mind.
And doing that in discreet.
Being uninvolved!
Finding to be concerned a waste of time.
As they have learned.
To keep their peace.
To live among those who react...
Without exploring the facts of life!
As known.
And not assumed to suspect.
Or allow it to be condoned!
This conditioning process observed...
Is left alone.
As they watch those select,
From offerings presented.
And rejecting the rest to go neglected.
Resenting,
Lessons one needs.
But choosing to refuse any test...
To broaden a limited consciousness.
And behind they are left and kept,
To protest in a collective ignorance digested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disturbed By the Process
What a convenience it is,
Not to think!
Or be disturbed by the process of thought!
I use to believe,
A request to be left alone...
Once admitted,
Should be respected.
Or that person left alone,
As requested.
Not thought of as a conquest!
Today?
People have no sense of 'self'.
With a choice to defend their ignorance.
Like a mob...
Choosing to tar and feather someone,
If that person declares a wish
To be from them dismissed!
This creates tensions that become animalistic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ignorance is never out of style. It was in fashion yesterday, it is the rage today and it will set the pace tomorrow.
quote by Frank Dane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterdays Child
Roy orbison/bill dees
I see the face of yesterdays child,
Living in a state of in between.
Is there a place for yesterdays child,
Searching for an unforgotten dream?
Looking for rainbows at midnight,
Hoping tomorrow will come.
Will time erase for yesterdays child?
What will the child become?
I hear the voice of yesterdays child
Echoing my name, my name, my name.
Is there a choice for yesterdays child,
Seeking shelter from the falling rain?
Chasing a butterfly lover,
Making a run for the sun.
Who will rejoice for yesterdays child?
What is the game to be won?
Will you draw?
Will you fold?
Will you start playing wild?
What is the future for yesterdays child?
Will you turn to dust,
Or go to the sea, racing with destiny?
Oh,look at me,
Born to be yesterdays child.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Therefore...
They do not listen!
Therefore...
Nothing is learned.
Therefore...
They have earned their fight,
To remain in blight and ignorance.
They make claims for a need of change.
And wallow away in accepted indifference.
Choosing where they wish to be!
They can not see that.
And they argue amongst themselves,
Constantly.
They do not listen!
Yet their troubles disturb.
They want to be heard.
Blind and gathered in a collected herd!
Doing what they want.
Wanting what they approve and choose.
Therefore...
Those who have listened,
And observing it more and more.
Look for exits to distance themselves.
From those who have chosen to dwell,
In these spells of stagnation.
This is what they want!
And they flaunt and do it well!
Therefore...
Any truth or spark of enlightenment,
Will never be theirs to be shared to tell.
Therefore...
A sign from anyone sharing their grief,
Would please them!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speed of Life
No one prepared you for the pace of life
Today you play in the sun and tomorrow is a dream
All of your todays stretching forward away
Don’t think about the past keep moving forward
Keep running on, feet flying
Don’t look down at the narrow perilous path
Don’t look behind you at where you have been
Keep running forward as fast as you can
Arms outstretched, legs flailing, heart pumping
Run faster little one, faster.
Leave all your yesterdays behind.
Do you know what your destination is?
Will you know it when you arrive?
Or will you keep running through the nights and the days
Running through the space and time of your life
Until you weaken and start to falter, lungs failing
And eventually you will be found at the side of the road
Your body a feeding place for roaming animals
As in days of yore
Your life’s purpose unravelled in the pattern of your intestines
Stretched between the slobbering maws of ravenous hounds
Steam rising from their sweat-drenched flanks
In the cold evening air.
poem by John Champion
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Yesterdays
Yesterdays
Yesterdays
Days I knew as happy sweet
Sequestered days
Olden days
Golden days
Days of mad romance and love
Then gay youth was mine
And truth was mine
Joyous free and flaming life
Forsooth was mine
Sad am i
Glad am i
For today Im dreaming of
Of yesterdays
Then gay youth was mine
The truth was mine
Sad am i
Glad am i
For today Im dreaming of
Of yesterdays
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Named And Stamped With A Brand
Limited interpretations,
Appeal only to those who are appeased.
And kept they are to view their lives,
Manifested to accept that which symbolizes images.
And what for them an image represents.
With a keeping of images limited to interpretation.
And if a depiction in their minds can not be defined,
It is dismissed as worthless.
Until a place for it is found to be labelled,
As an entity to be named and stamped with a brand.
To then be sold as a needed commodity.
With a familiar repeating done of subliminal marketing.
'Whew! What a relief.
We thought we had to accept it as is.
Having its own separate identity.
And that would be too mind altering,
For the limits we have set for our beliefs.
And right now we can not afford expansion.
It's difficult enough as it is to maintain 'some' control.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tomorrow
We don’t know what tomorrow may bring
But we want something that will make our hearts sing.
And the things that will make our hearts sing
Is the beautiful memories that it brings.
What is tomorrow but another day
Another day of living, another day of giving
Another day of sharing, another day of caring.
All of our tomorrows will be yesterdays
And all our yesterdays are our pasts
And it will be another memory that will last.
Watching all the Doo wop groups of yester year
On wpbt made me feel old as can be.
With each tomorrow brings you closer to old age
And your life will never be the same.
I will take all my tomorrows and hold them
Like a newborn child, and give thanks to god above
For showing me how to love.
And when my tomorrows become my yester years
With everyone that I know, these memories I will share.
poem by Louis Rams
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Beauty today, Ugly tomorrow
Beauty and ugliness everywhere
Beauty in the eyes and mind of the admirer
Ugliness in the eyes and mind of the hater
Transformational reconstruction everywhere,
Driven by muscle and led by mind,
Tomorrow's eyes do not see the same as Yesterday's
Beauty today, ugly tomorrow
No guarantee beauty today will be beauty tomorrow
No guarantee ugliness today will be ugliness tomorrow
No guarantee structures standing today will be standing tomorrow
The world is beautiful by mankind
Man is forever in the chase of dirt
Today I live on my terms, tomorrow I watch and smile or cry
Today may look like tomorrow if wishes were horses
Tomorrow is uncertain
Everything in it is uncertain
Our wish ends in our hearts and minds
Our wish is castles in the air except today,
It is imaginary with no contract for reality
The brain is jelly in the minds of progeny
Our wish is noble in our minds,
Our wish is liquid in the minds of progeny
Today's life is dirt and gold like tomorrow it will be,
Today, tomorrow, yesterday, life is the same,
One purpose for living but different states, tastes and times,
Change is forever rolling by, spicing up states, tastes and times,
A turning wheel with no end
Milestones flashing past, no distance covered,
February 2012
Niki Nkuna
poem by Niki Nicholas Nkuna
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You see, it's never the environment; it's never the events of our lives, but the meaning we attach to the events - how we interpret them - that shapes who we are today and who we'll become tomorrow.
quote by Tony Robbins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only Mental Memoirs Kept
There is going to be a clean sweep.
A complete overhaul...
Of present thinking,
By those who rode...
On a merry-go-round enjoyed.
But now has been stalled.
For certain conditions,
To be employed!
A total restructuring,
Of a thought process.
Coming soon to a mind near you.
And this,
All can expect!
Gone are the days,
Are those having their way.
With assumptions done...
Including less discipline,
To have a life full of fun!
A consciousness that will insist,
Everyone snaps awake.
And overnight this will seem,
To have taken place.
Attitudes about who will do what...
Will have few people,
Sitting on their butts!
With no 'buts' or 'ifs'...
Used for excuses to resist!
A total restructuring,
Of a thought process.
Coming soon to a mind near you.
And this,
All can expect!
No one will be asked to choose,
Whether or not they will participate.
With a hesitation to confuse.
What will be delivered,
No one can refuse.
No offer will be made...
To those in moods wishing to debate!
Those days are gone!
Only mental memoirs kept...
In private reminiscing.
During lunch breaks!
And assignments completed...
When one has finished,
Using their brooms, mops or rakes!
A conformity will be restored.
Not to be ignored.
Or out done.
By those holding onto pretensions.
To impress someone.
Who might care who they knew.
Or where they vacationed,
Under the Sun.
To bask and enhance healthy tans.
A consciousness that insists,
Everyone snaps awake.
And this will traumatize,
To bring many heartbreak!
Attitudes about who will do what...
Will have few people,
Sitting on their butts!
With noses turned up!
With no 'buts' or 'ifs'...
Used for excuses to resist!
A total restructuring,
Of a thought process.
Coming soon to a mind near you.
And this,
All can expect!
You can bet on that,
To happen next!
For all to socialize...
With sweat pouring down,
Their faces and necks!
'Hey you...
Yes you!
The 'intellectual'!
After you're through writing.
Or whatever it is you do.
Get back to your chores.
I don't want to have to repeat that...
Like I did before.'
With no 'buts' or 'ifs'...
Used for excuses to resist!
You can expect this...
To arrive at your door!
Persisting with wishes...
Will not be done anymore.
*Note of definition for 'memoir' as used in this context:
'...the record of the proceedings,
of a learned society...'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Direction Taken...
Do or don't...
Whatever!
Your participation now,
Is neither welcomed or embraced.
What was needed from you then...
Has now taken on a different face.
A change of pace...
Is upon us with a phase,
That will not be erased.
Have you waited too late,
To state your cause?
Did you pause to linger,
And now hesitate in awe!
A solution to mend and fix,
Has transcended and now complex!
To confess a lack of comprehension...
Does not await for what comes next!
Do or don't...
Whatever!
Your participation now,
Is neither welcomed or embraced.
What was needed from you then...
Has now taken on a different face.
A change of pace...
Is upon us with a phase,
That will not be erased.
If you find you are dazed in amazement,
Realize what you had regarded important to you...
Has drastically been replaced!
And you now stand among those...
Who show an exposed indifference,
You wish to now impose.
But time upon you and 'those' has closed!
This direction taken...
Is not for those still sitting in conflict!
No matter which ones you choose to pick!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nobody Is There To Listen
Choosing to sustain, maintain and keep their livelihoods,
They did what most conformed people do!
They chose to create no waves.
They kept their mouths closed.
Perceiving they would keep their beliefs intact.
Perceiving themselves to be envied.
And their way of life...
Safe.
If they just played the game and rolled along...
As followers.
to muffle if not silence any disagreements.
And of course...
Many thought they would gain favor,
If they became the model of a teamplayer.
With the giving of incentives for their efforts.
'And our choice for the employee of the month,
Goes to...'
Today?
That game they played is over.
And many protest in anger.
Their obsession with loyalities have been repossessed.
And many are vocal as they protest.
Today?
Nobody is there or expresses they care...
Who amongst them has followed to achieve,
Years of documented devotion and loyalty
Today?
They are just in the way.
Like in those days when they were paid...
To ignore the cries of others.
What a difference not having a paycheck makes!
And nobody is there to listen or even care...
Who now 'whines' about their lives.
When everybody knows they are too lazy to work or find a job.
And all they want to do is sit at home, watch TV and collect welfare.
'That's true, isn't it?
That's what we've been always told to believe.
And...
If they didn't like it 'here',
Why don't they go back where they came from? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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