It Is Best to Be Cautious
Some folks believe they benefit,
By protecting their insecurities.
As if they are hidden.
And others can not see.
Or know those insecurities,
Have a life of their own.
And have been given the 'authority'
To express themselves!
And publicly breathe.
But when those insecurities,
Begin to plop on another's integrity...
There is no sense to defend them.
Feelings once spared,
Are no longer given a chance.
And egos become wounded.
And those romanced exaggerations,
About life...
Become stung,
By someone who intends to deliver...
A bitter nasty tongue done.
And there is no regret.
It is best to be cautious,
In these situations.
Especially when accusations,
Begin to sprout wings and fly!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Refuse To Say Anything About It
I am 'not' going to say anything,
About 'anyone' and their insecurities.
It is pointless to keep harping upon them,
When those who have them are clearly possessive.
And who am I to mention who is insecure?
You know what I'm saying?
Who gave me the right to perceive,
Those with insecurities feed upon them.
With a seeking of others,
To defend their weaknesses.
And that is one of the reasons,
I refuse to say anything about it.
I'm sure people with insecurities,
Know they've got them.
'Well,
I am glad you didn't bring it up for discussion.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be Cautious When Treating People With Respect
Be cautious when treating people with respect,
Especially those that are not accustomed to it.
They begin to expect,
Anything they do to be acceptable.
Being direct and factual...
When and if pointing out a shown irresponsibility,
Upsets their track record of being negligent.
And your outspoken candor,
Can and will offend them to no end.
You will be the first one they accuse,
Of abusing their insecurities...
Others ignore,
But choose to talk about this and them...
Behind their backs.
And whether this is known or not...
Those actions of others are preferred,
To keep their egos intact!
And you may be the first to express...
You will have none of that!
Never stop respecting,
But choose not to be a welcome mat!
And everyone knows what they are used for!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Your Enabler
I am not existing,
In pretense...
Your insecurities,
I will dismiss.
Nor will I come to understand,
With an acceptance to defend...
At my expense,
It is okay when you display...
Your way of living your life,
Does not get in my way!
I am not existing,
In pretense...
Your insecurities,
I will dismiss.
I am your friend!
Not your enabler to use and offend!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Has Never Been Rare
Incite,
They do.
With a barricade...
To masquerade insecurities.
It took overnight,
To fight themselves...
Over their rights!
And a greed that now sees them seething...
With heated breath felt,
Close to the nose of those they chose.
They see themselves as enemies.
Distrusted with beliefs...
That their way of life was jeopardized,
By those that despised them.
But none could do that better,
Than they do it...
To themselves!
Incite,
They do.
With a barricade...
To masquerade insecurities.
And threats like these...
They defend,
With an absence of common sense...
So obvious everywhere.
And this has never been rare.
It has not been adopted,
To address as an issue.
Sensitivities keep them conflicted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Slow Accepting Doses
If I wanted to fuzzy you with cuddly,
That approach would be for you...
Not out of the ordinary.
That is what you seek to protect your beliefs.
But it is your delusions,
That squeeze life from you.
As if to aid in your addiction to be deceive.
In slow accepting doses.
And me?
I will never deceive you.
Is that the reason why when I am around,
You begin to cringe?
Perceiving me to be a demon.
Look around you.
You are the one fighting them out of my sight.
However...
There is something about their approach,
That feeds your appetite.
Am I right?
And I am just a reminder of your insecurities.
No matter how long you try...
You can not blame your insecurities on me.
I am not a fuzzy cuddler.
And 'that' I will acknowledge.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accusations
Accusations,
Pour from the mouths...
Of those soured,
By others who do not accept
Excuses.
Insecurities exposed yet nurtured,
Are more damaging if gone ignored!
Than to believe they become the responsibility...
Of the ones victimized by them.
As if shared property...
To protect and keep covered.
As if precious gems.
And if this does not happen,
Accusations begin.
Relationships are ruined.
Allowing rumors to flourish...
With a process that should not have started.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Looking For A Leader
Fear inflicts the acceptance of restrictions.
And those afraid to carve their own independent way,
Facing obstacles and doubts...
Discover for themselves what life for them is about.
But will always feel inadequate,
When attempting to expose their own identity.
And unfortunately many living lives fearing,
Seek to be led.
With a looking for a leader approved by those...
Who only know what it takes to follow.
Since those who do have abilities to lead,
Are often opposed by the ones subjected to insecurities.
And people with those insecurities,
Seek those who are best qualified...
To represent the denying of every one of them.
Because the ones who express honesty and truth,
Always seem to threaten...
Those who do not.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unable To Escape
Unable to escape...
From their own insecurities,
There are many who enjoy...
Victimizing others,
To cover themselves...
From being detected.
And the tactics they use,
Can be from one extreme to the other.
Some employ religious zeal.
And some rely on embellishments,
As exceptions applied...
To their own rules of survival.
We all are moving in a fast pace,
Towards a new day of revelations.
And who we are,
With those hidden deep insecurities...
Are going to be revealed as if on display,
By those who have come face to face with self.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Self-Estimate
My life has been built around
self-doubt of who I am
with insecurity and vulnerability.
To many that might seem strange
and to others it might seem I have it all.
A lasting marriage,
fulfilling my dreams one at a time,
friends around the world.
You ask what else
could anyone really want.
When I was young
whatever I did
my sister or someone else
could always do it better
even when I succeeded,
at least that is what I was always told.
Those words brought forth
all sorts of insecurities
that plagued my life from those days to this.
They would tell me my writing
was rubbish and I should never show them
to anyone or they would hold me up to ridicule.
Now my writing is read and enjoyed
by thousands across the world.
So why is it that these insecurities
keep swirling around my head?
The questions keep coming,
but the answers elude me.
Even when I look at my accomplishments
those insecurities still follow me around.
Will my bubble burst
and will their words back then be right?
I hope and pray not and I will just carry on
no matter what the outcome is.
My future is sealed
no matter which way I turn.
A writer I will always be,
whether good, bad or indifferent,
or for richer or poorer be.
I gave up once for a number of years,
but fate had it in store
that I would write again once more.
It even lead me down different paths
than I had been down before.
What next I ask myself,
just keep on writing I guess
and the insecurities.
Well, they will still follow me
as well as the self-doubts
I was brainwashed with.
You cannot turn back the clock
say it never happened.
It is just something in my life
I am going to have to live with.
25 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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Emotional Bullies
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
With sensitivities we should question,
The need to protect and defend them.
Shame begets what shame gets to be 'gotten'.
In return.
What other lesson do we need to learn,
But 'that'?
And all lessons learned are together attached.
Something in our minds disconnected.
To trigger quick and snap!
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
We should at least be maintaining our own dignity.
Self-respect.
And a proud identity.
Flaunted!
And undaunted by the implementation of those insecurities!
And who hasn't had those?
LIES!
If you live you have had those!
And please...
No debate with me do I invite,
On the topic of 'Which Side of Ignorance Is Right'
It is what it is.
So if that makes you uptight...
Go somewhere and backbite me.
I see the thought of it enlightens your eyes.
I'm sure your lips would prepare,
Something with venom..
If I called you a 'fool'.
Would that get you there any sooner?
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
When are we going to come to challenge one another,
To overcome and defend the right to mend within us?
That is the real fear.
And that makes us all not want to come face to face,
With an ugliness we all see in ourselves.
And that takes work.
To self examine.
In the convenient fields of doubt.
With,
Initiative and desires unknown!
And hope with wishes knocked out of practiced.
As over rehearsed sorrows about who did who wrong...
Remains centerstage.
Provoked by new lines found on someone's cellphone.
'I just love the way drive.
With so much compassion.'
When are we going to come to challenge one another,
To overcome and defend the right to mend within us?
God knows...
What is on stage right now has long required re-writes.
With a consistent updating, scrub and polish.
'...I haven't been driving too long.
Infact, you are my second passenger.'
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
And 'own up' to that which we do,
To reveal the same thoughts being shared.
But what is not there has been purposely kept away.
LOVE!
When never known,
Can not be there to share unconditionally.
It has to under conditions met,
Be shown.
With committment!
Desire.
Hot.
But not to overheat kept respect.
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
Our own deliberating and limited intentions,
To free what it is that we don't want to feel.
It is not wanted!
Why is it there?
To free what it is that we don't want to feel.
And welcome what it is that we do,
Wish.
To feel.
We should at least be maintaining our own dignity.
Self-respect.
And a proud identity.
Flaunted!
Undaunted,
By the implementation of those insecurities!
And who hasn't had those to chase away?
Insecurities?
Emotional bullies.
Insecurities?
Emotional bullies.
Same 'thang'!
Get rid of 'em!
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
Or an addicting unconsciousness,
That leaves us entrapped within our own barriers?
And a lot of paranoia has been known,
To be shown from that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Self Serving
Some people breathe to feed their insecurities.
And not face them head on.
But tolerate them...
As if to cover up arms,
By putting them through shirt sleeves.
And dress up these insecurities...
As if to adorn like ornaments!
To gain approval from others,
Who themselves believe...
This is as easy as discussing,
Their prescribed medications.
Or sermons preached!
To relieve and comfort after taking remedies...
For illnesses such as high cholesterol.
While all declare an abstinence,
From self serving small town gossip!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deliver Me
deliver me...
from the fury, the noise,
and the roar of the wheel...
deliver me...
from my own insecurities,
my unconscious greed,
and my self driven fears.
deliver me...
from my conceptual understanding,
my limited knowledge,
and my worship of knowledge.
deliver me...
from all anger and hatred
in whatever disguise...
deliver me...
from being driven by
mouth and stomach unchecked,
from what i think i need.
deliver me..
from my countless mistakes,
and the excuses i make!
deliver me...
from any kind of pride
that closes the open hand!
deliver me...
from any sense of self
that would seperate and divide.
deliver me...
from laziness and tiredness,
from bitterness and lonliness.
deliver me...
from all forms of apathy,
and the want to possess...
deliver me...
and bring me to realize myself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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People Submerged In Their Insecurities
People submerged in their own insecurities,
Have a constant need to speak of one's race.
Constantly!
And...
The color of one's skin.
And who is responsible for today's racism.
With deceitful confessions,
That these are not part of their 'sins'.
They are!
And that's why they wish to keep it identified.
They are,
Themselves...
On the dark side.
And doing it absent of color.
Or the lack of it shown!
They are...
People submerged in their own insecurities.
And people like these,
Make their presence known!
Even if their actions annoy themselves...
In a collective ignorance that is overblown!
They are...
People who dislike,
People like me.
And others who strip disguises away,
From people submerged...
In a willingness to inflict their own insecurities,
With misdeeds and a hate for self reflection.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Would Have No Life To Live
If you live in an atmosphere,
That has condoned conflict, violence and chaos.
When did any of this start?
Or were you born into it as if it were a gift?
And have witnessed this...
As if it to be performing art!
Many sat by and watch this nourish.
And in somes cases,
Encouraged it.
If this affected another race.
And on TV you saw this take place.
With accusations flying...
How 'those' people should be ashamed.
And how 'they' are such a disgrace.
Racism 'helps' many people deal with their insecurities.
Many countries wouldn't be what they are,
If not for the created terminologies...
Such as 'minorities' or 'enemies'.
Superiority and dominance.
Or...
Ignorance from it,
Dispensed!
Some would have no life to live.
Racism 'helps' many people deal with their insecurities.
If you live in an atmosphere,
That has condoned conflict, violence and chaos.
When did any of this start?
Or were you born into it as if it were a gift?
And have witnessed this...
As if it to be performing art!
Racism 'helps' many people deal with their insecurities.
If not for the created terminologies...
Such as 'minorities' or 'enemies'.
Superiority and dominance.
Or...
Ignorance from it,
Dispensed!
Some would have no life to live.
Racism 'helps' many people deal with their insecurities.
If not for the created terminologies...
Such as 'minorities' or 'enemies'.
Superiority and dominance.
Or...
Ignorance from it,
Dispensed!
Some would have no life to live.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Daring To Be Defeated
People refusing to listen,
Create their own dilemmas.
They believe an enforcement done,
Of their wishes...
Retrieves a satisfaction,
As expectations are identified.
They lie to themselves and expect understanding.
Foolish are their delusions.
But an acceptance to be corrected...
Is taken for criticisms refused to enhance a growth.
People like this want to feel protected,
Like a child caught in a lie.
With a tantrum to come that is provoked.
And the circumstances they must face,
They don't do that!
They rather run to hide inside their minds...
Where trappings of safety begin to take place.
'I don't care if you don't believe me.
I don't care...'
And alone they weep!
People refusing to listen,
Create their own dilemmas.
They believe an enforcement done,
Of their wishes...
Retrieves a satisfaction,
As expectations are identified.
A stripping to expose flaws,
Is difficult to do.
A willingness to be wounded...
Speeds up the advancing of a truth.
And when truth is denied,
For something less painful to receive and accept...
A maturity to gain becomes a stagnation repeated.
With a daring to be defeated...
Conquered by insecurities,
As a surrounding wall that falsely protects.
'I don't care if you don't believe me.
I don't care...'
And alone they weep!
Stubbornly affixed to their insecurities,
Keeping them appeased and weak!
Daring to be defeated!
But defeated by a weakness...
Keeps their insecurities appeased.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Is The Sadness
Mystified are many,
Looking from the outside in.
As to why people who 'appear' to be
Of the same race...
Would have issues of skin color.
And have those insecurities they hold...
From the beginning of noticing it,
Until their life experiences end.
This doesn't make sense,
Since they are all oppressed.
And not by those from other races.
They keep these issues to bait...
A self hatred that goes undebated.
Yet felt,
Although stubbornly unspoken.
And this has allowed a self esteem,
Defeated.
With expectations minimized.
And from their eyes success...
Becomes a thing maximized to beat.
Keeping them divided...
With a call for unity from the tongues.
But despising one another,
They can not seem to cease.
Mystified are many,
Looking from the outside in.
As to why people who 'appear' to be
Of the same race...
Would have issues of skin color.
And have those insecurities they hold...
From the beginning of noticing it,
Until their life experiences end.
This is the sadness,
For those without a dignity to pride!
Or an identity to defend.
This is 'their' sadness!
But not for those who laugh at them.
This is 'their' sadness as observed and seen.
As others who are just as petty...
In a system petty driven to affect and demean.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Mind Will Not Allow You To Escape
Don't ever use me to lie,
To defend your insecurities.
My integrity,
Is not appreciative of that.
Do not get yourself entrapped,
By the use of those acts.
You will not enjoy the outcome,
If done! And that is a fact.
Or the consequences,
I decide to apply.
That turn the other cheek business?
God knows I have a problem,
In the doing of it!
My mind will not allow you,
To escape unscathed.
As if what you have done to me,
Has my endorsement.
And is okay!
It isn't!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Genuine Factor
Many lack that genuine factor.
And the ones who overcompensate,
With a masquerading...
Seem suspiciously to be protecting,
Insecurities they would rather erase...
Than to be placed in awkward positions.
We all have flaws some have evaluated.
And at times wished them not to be seen at all.
But eventually we can not fake them without facing,
A participating with others...
On some kind of regular basis.
Affording us an escape from ways that isolate.
Many lack that genuine factor.
And the ones who overcompensate,
With a masquerading...
Seem suspiciously to be protecting,
Insecurities they would rather erase...
Than to be placed in awkward positions.
'Some of my best friends were once 'Negroes'.
Now they are 'Black'.
Should I have said that?
Or do you prefer something much more updated?
I'm doing the best I can to accept diversity.
You may not believe this...
But just the other day I had my first taste,
Of chitterlings and collard greens.
And I must say...
They were quite delicious.'
~There's nothing like making that first impression.
Is this your first visit to the 21st century? ~
'Of course not.
You people are so...
Entertaining.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As a Running Away Keeps a Faster Pace
Insecurities fed and kept,
Rely upon something or someone...
To enable the continuance of their dependency.
And achieving levels of annoyance,
Is condoned by those who are convinced...
Those with needless insecurities,
Are victims of a cruelty...
They themselves did not create or invent!
And a protection of this mental illness...
Satisfies and hides exaggerated deceptions.
With a healing that should have taken place,
Never to happen,
As a running away keeps a faster pace.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Does Any War Win?
A promised date with death...
For those celebrated to have valor,
And honor.
With a courage to protect,
Aspects of their interests.
To eventually be praised by those,
Who shop for new clothes.
Just to appear as patriotic as possible.
What does any war win?
A release of egos...
That are temporarily free,
To intoxicate insecurities!
With an eye on starting other conflicts.
And hyped promotions to campaign,
In a glorified propaganda that drains resources...
To feed appetites to defend one's rights.
Even though orbiting probes and satellites,
Can detect a fly on a brick wall...
In the darkest of nights!
What does any war win?
An opportunity for the victor to express,
A hightened ignorance joyously!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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