It Would Not Exist!
Who put that there?
'They did.'
They 'who'?
'Them.'
Them 'Who'?
'Those who wanted it there.'
Then why are you complaining?
'I don't want it there.
It's in my way.'
Then why don't you get rid of it?
'It's none of my business.'
Then 'they' or 'them' aren't the only ones...
Seeking to have it stay the way it is!
If you did not welcome it,
It would not exist!
And that is the reason there are many conflicts.
People have grown tired of accepting 'that'...
Which for them they wish removed.
And 'them' and 'those' who put it there...
Are being shown their actions are not approved.
So you have had it your way.
By having nothing to do with it!
And you are not alone.
There are many who sit,
Complain and moan!
'And 'where' are you going? '
I am not agonizing my life!
I have chosen to live it.
And 'they' or 'them'...
Are not a part of my vision!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
This Has Been Distorted
Don't 'ask' that your sorrows be removed from you.
Demand that they be removed!
Don't look at your obstacles as if they are impossible.
Remove them from your mind.
Or they will stay.
Believing you want it that way!
If you believe you are here to suffer...
Why complain about it.
As if this was a gift from God.
You 'are' a gift from God!
You are.
You are a part of the Oneness God is!
The Kingdom that is His 'is' yours!
You've been told this.
Don't 'ask' that your sorrows be removed from you.
Demand that they be removed!
Don't look at your obstacles as if they are impossible.
Remove them from your mind.
Or they will stay.
Believing you want it that way!
If you believe you are here to suffer...
Why complain about it.
As if this was a gift from God.
And this is not God's wish!
Somewhere, somehow in your mind...
This has been distorted.
You allowed your faith to be aborted!
The Earth, Moon and Sun...
All belong to the One.
How and 'why' and WHEN...
Did you allow your separateness to begin?
If you believe you are here to suffer...
Why complain about it.
As if this was a gift from God.
What else in your life is faked?
If you say you love God...
Why can't you accept God as your Lover?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Bond and Soul Contract
If I made an excuse,
For each mistake I've made...
On a path I am still paving,
Along the way...
I would stay put and not adventure.
Or discover a fear,
That my actions aren't approved.
And I should select,
From a host of other...
Less challenging ventures.
But I am not here to prove I can undo,
What has been done.
Since I live my life unrehearsed.
On this Earth...
Under Moon, Stars and Sun!
And if I am cursed for not being perfect...
At least I am proud to learn,
I can fall, get up and stand!
To yearn.
And not be discouraged by obstacles,
Others are afraid to face alone.
Or come to comprehend,
And/or understand on their own.
I can chip away at boulders.
And still maintain my faith.
God has already shown to me...
Failures are man made.
And I am not here to claim failure,
As my fate!
Mistakes?
Yes!
Failures?
No!
I am not growing to identify 'that'...
As my destiny.
I am here to achieve,
Because I believe I can!
And I will...
Since I am the product,
Of My Father's desires!
AND...
To do what The Almighty chooses.
'That' is my bond and soul contract!
My Father and I keep in close contact.
In fact...
If My Father is not pleased,
With my deeds...
Guess who will be the first to know?
Guess to 'whom' I go to...
For my comfort and growth?
And that is why,
My survival...
Is dependent upon His confidence,
I am given!
To keep my movements unconfused.
And that is why 'we' do...
As My Maker and I choose.
If I made an excuse,
For each mistake I've made...
On a path I am still paving,
Along the way...
I would stay put and not adventure.
Or discover a fear,
That my actions aren't approved.
And I should select,
From a host of other...
Less challenging ventures.
I 'use' to do that...
When I was on my knees in tears.
Swept away by doubts that would appear.
And left to lay flat on my back!
Before I realized...
Who initiated and keeps,
My bond and soul contract intact!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slipping Away to Fade
Stripped quick from being significant.
A relevance is slipping away.
Upgraded is the consciousness.
And the importance of it has come to stay.
It is difficult to suppress,
Truth when truth is sought and confessed.
And pointless it is to try to hide it too...
When beliefs once known have shown new roots.
With a growing that leaves clear and fresh air to breathe.
Stripped quick from being significant.
A relevance is slipping away.
Upgraded is the consciousness.
And the importance of it has come to stay.
And we have been chosen to witness it.
And we who have come to benefit from this,
Will rise like flowers reaching up from concrete.
Becoming part of that which yesterday was not possible.
Not when solutions were ignored to correct,
Cracks appearing on city streets.
With powers unlimited and abilities unrestricted...
By useless conflicts inflicted to deceive.
With minds now uplifted no longer accepting this,
As part of life and the experience of it.
Stripped quick from being significant.
A relevance to stick,
Is slipping away.
Slipping away to fade.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Current Expectations
That sharing with a tactic used,
Gets to becomed overdone.
And somewhat diffused,
By the actions of some.
When those who are approached...
Have in the past given up their last.
Are today told and shown by the ones,
Seeking to be impressed when addressed...
That what someone has to give and offer them,
Does not meet with the needs of current expectations.
'I'm sorry.
What are your updated expectations? '
~We now seek those with approved appearances,
Before we consider what it is to us they give.~
That sharing with a tactic used,
Gets to becomed overdone.
And somewhat diffused by the actions of some,
Blinded by image and quick to refuse...
One's abilities and expertise.
~We now seek those with approved appearances,
Before we consider what it is to us that is freely given.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sick.. &.tired.
I'm sick of being sick, and tired of being tired
I'm sick and tired of being, sick and tired
I try to help and look what I get,
A forget you and a butt to kiss.
I Feel left out when I'm in this place,
It like I don't even exist. I'm tired and
Weak, I can no longer defeat.
Like a stray bullet through the chest
Falling straight to my knees. I'm hurt and
Desire for a new life, because the one in stuck with
Is not right. My life is so difficult, part of me wants to stay and
Part of me wants to leave.... I'm making a feeble attempt to no
Longer BREATH.
poem by Diamond Heyward
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy They Have Been Able To Please
At one time,
People were complaining...
No activities for them were scheduled.
Today,
More than enough diverse activities...
Are scheduled for those wishing to participate.
And there are those calling from their windows,
That the planners of the activities...
Should have not scheduled them,
On the same day.
And that is why they have chosen,
Not to take advantage...
Of any those choices made available.
And the ones caring less,
Who is expressing what and for what reason...
Come and go to do as they please,
With a doing to get done...
Keeping prioritized,
From Sundown to Sunrise...
Their own focused motivations.
At one time,
People were complaining...
No activities for them were scheduled.
And the naysayers are still there,
Supplying from one event to another...
Their unsolicited critiques.
And the planners,
Who have scheduled such activities...
Are thrilled and happy,
They have been able to please...
The wants, wishes and needs of everyone.
They seem to be anyway.
'My goodness.
How were you all able to do this? '
~Excuse me?
I had earplugs in my ears.
We all do.
Most of us have removed them.
Those of us on the committee.
Do you mind repeating that?
What was it that you said? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Connecting Of Dots
You've wasted too much time,
Agonizing with an analysis...
As to how best to approach,
The connecting of dots.
And which part of this activity,
Will clarify the problems you've got.
As you avoid any knowledge,
That you have them to exist.
With a facing of 'reality' you refuse to admit.
And your probing done into others' lives,
While you deny the living of your own.
Has only produced for you more conflicts.
With no solutions presented that can be shown.
So quick you are to beat around a bush.
But you expected others to reveal,
Their own private business...
To explore and expose in a tour,
You and your entourage demand and insist.
And with a consistent persistence,
You proclaim to have entitlements with 'rights'.
To do as you please to appease an appetite.
Do you hear the sounds of distant laughter?
It's not coming from me.
As you see I am doing my best...
To keep my mouth shut tight.
With lips I bite!
Oh...
Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of Summer,
Locked up tight in your head to stay...
Have come to dim your comprehension overnight.
And I recommend an immediate change of batteries.
To regard the doing of it as an obligation...
That may help restore a clarity needed,
That may come to brighten your insight.
Because it has become too noticeable,
The remaining of your brain cells you rely upon...
Are extremely close to being dead.
Yes,
I said it.
And I am sure you'd like to leave an impression,
Instead of addressing what's wrong with me...
As if to perfection I have pledged.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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From a Time Gone By
Is this surge worse than Viet Nam?
At least back in 1968,
There wasn't so many conflicts going on!
And being a patriotic black young man...
I had returned from the military,
Feeling strong and giving a damn!
I was in the military,
Two weeks after graduating from high school.
Seeking to protect a nation,
Not then realizing...
When I was discharged,
I would be considered a fool!
And I was shown this,
More times than a few!
Especially by those...
Who went on to graduate,
With BA's and MA's and PHd's...
From top notch schools!
And here we are today...
Approaching two thousand and eight!
With our sons and daughters in wars,
They participate.
And I think back then,
How patriotic I had been.
To think I was prepared to give up my life...
So others can have rights,
To denounce me and the color of my skin!
But let me say this...
Not one hint of bitterness,
Within me exist!
Not because of actions,
I consciously did take!
Although it irks me to no end...
To see so many folks make the same mistakes.
As I grow older with the grace I am blessed!
I am so happy
My tattered emotions have been mended.
My inner conflicts have been cured of buried stress.
But I must confess...
The world we live now is in a mess!
Not because of real threats made.
But because of an ignorance accepted and expressed!
People have lost an inner worth it seems.
Gone are visions of fellowship,
To the marketing of schemes and corruption themes!
And the youth of today,
Have one thing on their minds!
How best they can 'get over'...
To obtain 'things'
By committing an assortment of crimes,
They are assisted to define!
As the sacred dollar...
Falls to worthlessness.
I feel my basic needs are those of a relic!
From a time gone by when people just wanted
To 'be' and do their best!
One who seeks peace of mind with quality...
While others seek to feed an endless greed,
From an emptiness that is felt!
Whether or not,
There is conflict and unrest!
And I observe this 'mess'...
Wondering why this humanistic 'slide'
Tumbles into oblivion!
Without more cries of those rejecting this in protest!
And each day that I awaken...
I thank God,
He has put my faith and bravery I have shown...
Through such obstacles and tests of mental strength,
He has produced!
And He and I alone have known!
While others may portray a sympathy...
Just to maintain a materialistic gain.
Without one hint of dignity that remains!
Or none remembered to be sustained!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Statistics suggest that when customers complain, business owners and managers ought to get excited about it. The complaining customer represents a huge opportunity for more business.
quote by Zig Ziglar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Periphery of Sensitivity
Stay quiet, do not complain.
What are you talking about?
You must know the periphery of sensitivity
Stay within.
Your five year daughter might have been raped.
So what?
Look at your character, madam.
Keep running from pillar to post.
Who cares, if you cry behind doors?
Life moves on...
A child was made to drink her urine.
Stay quiet, do not complain.
It happens sometimes...
It is normal.
The warden did her job.
She would not wet her bed again.
Do not get scared
If you find the sweeper
With knife in hand at operation theater;
It is a helping hand.
Aren't you too sensitive about life?
What would you do in absence of trained men?
So stay quiet, don't complain.
Do not try to raise your voice
Even if it hurts...
Price rise is normal during inflation.
You spend much more on ice-cream
It's just few rupees...
So stay quiet, do not complain.
See, how we are becoming thick skinned.
The spine will soon become non-existent.
It is evolution of Indian in independent India.
We learned to stay indifferent.
There is a periphery of sensitivity,
Stay within.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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I'm Tired Of It All
I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-
And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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What I See Is Neither Wished Nor Wanted
Look around you.
'And...
Your point is,
What? '
Whatever is seen reflected,
Generates from the minds of the people.
All that rhetoric about what is 'wished'.
Is right before your eyes.
IF it was not wanted...
Would it appear so clear?
'What are you saying?
What I see is neither wished nor wanted? '
Listen to the people complaining.
'Then...
Why what I 'see' is so obvious? '
Because you haven't been fantasized,
By delusions.
'Oh.
Oh?
OH?
So...
What I see,
For them does not exist?
Then...
Why is it kept defended? '
You said that!
I didn't.
'Oh.
Oh?
OH? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Portraying Themselves As a Class of Masters
These matters would not exist...
If not discussed,
With such digusted persistence.
To insist that what is not real for some...
Does not undo what has been done,
Or mean others are not dealing with it...
For centuries to overcome.
Some would say homelessness and racism,
Aren't realities lived surrounding them.
And yet there are millions living like this,
In a country they all live in!
And these situations are not just observed,
From tourists eyes...
But also lived by countless others,
Who can not hide as they try to survive.
Poverty and joblessness...
Aren't fantasized conditions,
Just 'minorities' live with!
They happen to dwell in urban cities...
While a 'majority' come into work,
And leave these scenes strapped with taxes...
Taking resources and quick they flee!
Those hustling with fat paychecks,
Want to believe...
They are not restricted,
From an abundance of opportunities!
And as long as they reflect,
A standard of life they respect...
Their visions are not limited,
With constant reminders they are rejected...
By someone else's perspective!
As they live in a 'world'
With images of themselves everywhere displayed.
Providing comforts for those of similar faces...
Portraying themselves as a class of masters.
And shepherding others,
To their accepted places!
As they announce their actions...
Benefits their interests,
To incite destruction and immoral conflicts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Habitually Fixed
People addicted to nonsense,
Are no different than those addicted to crack.
Or any other sedation that medicates.
Dumbed down and seeking entertaining escapades.
And afraid of any thought process,
That causes comprehension.
Or communicating some of that might exist.
People addicted to nonsense,
Prefer to see a disagreement with their ideologies...
As confrontations..
With a nothingness with someone in this mindset,
That ever gets done.
Dumbed down and seeking entertaining escapades.
And afraid of any thought process,
That causes comprehension.
Or communicating some of that might exist.
This activity is representative of those who create conflicts,
To protect interests.
And those interests have been habitually fixed to delusions.
And people like this,
Stubborn and fixed...
Live assuming any progress that moves forward,
Is a conspiracy that threatens their beliefs!
And as long as they keep passing the 'pipe' around...
They will interpret the crumbling of foundations,
As a work of art!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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People Claim They Want More Peace
Agonistic balled up fists,
Shown by those too argumentive...
Are accustomed to conflicts,
And...
Should be left alone.
Agonistic balled up fists,
Shown by those too argumentive...
Are accustomed to conflicts,
And...
Should not be condoned.
Those choosing to pick fights,
Aren't the ones who use their wits.
Or nor are they quick thinkers,
With solutions that resolve...
That will result in benefits.
Those choosing to pick fights,
Aren't the ones who use their wits.
They're much too use to using fists...
As if to fight will end all riffs!
But escalations aren't dismissed.
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
More, more, more...
Revenge is sought and with the risks,
Showing and exposing proof...
Just who can be more barbaric!
Those choosing to pick fights,
Aren't the ones who use their wits.
Or nor are they quick thinkers,
With solutions that resolve...
That will result in benefits.
Those choosing to pick fights,
Aren't the ones who use their wits.
They're much too use to using fists...
As if to fight will end all riffs!
But escalations aren't dismissed.
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
More, more, more...
Revenge is sought and with the risks,
Showing and exposing proof...
Just who can be more barbaric!
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
More, more, more...
Revenge is sought and with the risks,
Showing and exposing proof...
Just who can be more barbaric!
Agonistic balled up fists,
Shown by those too argumentive...
Are accustomed to conflicts,
And...
Should be left alone.
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
And people can't leave this alone.
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
And people should not this condone.
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
More, more, more...
Grief and agony is wished.
People claim they want more peace,
But peace is not what people have known!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Instead Of Being A Pessimist
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist.
You want a life you like?
Oppose to the one you don't?
Why have you chosen to dislike what you do?
And who enforced this dislike upon you.
Do you live with wishes to fulfill your dreams?
Or are you focused on others,
Who seem to have 'your' things.
Are you focused upon others,
Who seem to be living your life?
Doing those things,
You wish for you also to like?
Perhaps those questions you ask,
Are not yours afterall.
And perhaps those answers,
That have come to you answered...
You ignored them to disbelieve,
Those answers received...
Were not yours.
Because you spend your time,
In the minding of other people's business!
And your business,
You haven't given your time to see...
Succeed.
But your time is spent,
Lamenting others you despise and criticize.
You want answers to your questions?
Wait for therm patiently to come.
Before you impatiently decide,
To get up and leave.
Believing they can be found,
With you not around.
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist?
Ask yourself that.
Instead of being a pessimist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disregarding One's Gift of Life
We all have made those decisions,
To live the kind of life we like.
Some have chosen to fulfill their dreams with things!
Others choose to discover life.
Seeking truth.
And what for them true happiness means.
And still there are others who prey,
For all the wrong reasons.
Leeching to please urgent needs.
And completely satisfied...
To play with life all day.
And make commitments,
To waste time at night.
We all have made those decisions,
To live the kind of life we like.
And yet there are those who despise themselves...
With needs to start arguments.
For them conflicts they wish to incite.
To peak their interests by starting fights.
And disregarding one's gift of life...
As something they've been ordained to take away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My experience has shown me that the people who are exceptionally good in business aren't so because of what they know but because of their insatiable need to know more.
quote by Michael Gerber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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