Just a Vessel Blessed
Where am I going to take this?
To realms,
I can not explain.
If I could,
Your question would not be left to go...
Unanswered.
If I did this to impress,
My ego would have been addressed.
And 'this' would have been left,
As an accomplishment to gain your attention.
And in a way...
I have nothing to say about this at all.
I'm just a vessel blessed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
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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Martyr
He with weak fantasies,
Delivered from bended knees...
Pledged to beg.
A martyr.
With delusions to feed.
And believing he has rights,
To sacrifice his life.
For purposes to gain notoriety.
Hoping his activities,
Gain an attention sought!
And meant to leave,
Those observing...
Impressed.
And left to express deep empathy,
Addressed.
Knowing...
If his heart can be on his sleeve,
To bleed publicly!
As he does.
To represent,
The very best of suffering!
He has no other needs to fulfill.
And they are thrilled,
He is determined...
To offer them an escape from their pain.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conceit
Conceit,
And the explicit unconsciousness of it.
Is not noticed by those seeking adulation.
They are on the scene,
To ensure others are aware of their presence.
And if a bullhorn used is not effective...
Methods to gain attention by insults expressed,
Is the only way they can leave long lasting impressions.
Even though nothing else is left addressed.
Like something valued with substance to profess.
But nothing from their lips,
Probes below a shallowness to expose that kind of 'depth'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Want to Gain...What?
You want to gain...
What?
Fame, fortune and wealth?
To feel you are above everyone else?
To deal them with teases...
Just to please yourself?
You want to gain...
What?
Attention you insist belongs to you?
To set pretensions upon their point of view.
What does this 'really' do for you?
Would this erase your insecurities...
And those obscenities that you spew?
You want to gain...
What?
A dignity and pride...
With 'things' and objects,
You believe holds a head high.
Or eyes on you!
To be awed by a fake persona.
And left transfixed...
By your masquerading of it!
You clearly feel an emptiness.
And this you keep inside.
Nothing you choose to express to impress...
Will ever address what you deny!
And an identity unknown...
Seems to leave you depressed,
With regrets.
This is shown!
And moving forward beyond this...
With determined steps,
Will not gain you what you wish.
If you are too afraid...
To expose and admit,
Mistakes you've made!
But you insist...
None are there to fix.
You want to gain...
What?
A way to disguise your blemishes,
There and appearing.
Or a way to escape from your flaws?
No one finds endearing.
Which of these do you believe can not be seen?
You want to gain...
What?
Another life?
One you don't find,
So disgusting?
To live one that is lived perfectly right!
One you wished you had lived less distrusting.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kept In the Presence
You are kept in the presence,
Of someone special.
Someone accessible.
And focused on your needs.
You do not have to feel,
What you give is not observed.
Everything you do has meaning.
And attention given,
You deserve.
You are kept in the presence,
Of someone special.
Someone accessible.
And focused on your needs.
Someone who feels,
You to be equally appealing.
Someone who sees you,
And bestows the highest priority.
You need not worry about that cart you push,
Filled with cans.
Those storage plastic bags you drag.
Is a testimony!
Do not ever let that make you sad!
You need not concern yourself,
About your disheveled looks.
It's already known...
Your best is at your command.
And the strength you have...
You did not get from books.
But it is there and it is felt...
In the friendship that is there,
By the firmness grasped...
Upon shaking your hand.
So without judgement passed.
A 'divinity' you have.
And it is yours to last!
This 'divinity of ministry'
Is yours to last.
You are kept in the presence.
Others see you as a peasant,
Since their needs are to impress.
But you are kept in the presence.
And those who know it,
Know you're blessed.
You are kept in the presence.
Others see you as a peasant,
Since their needs are to impress.
But you are kept in the presence.
And those who know it,
Know you're blessed.
You are kept in the presence.
Others see you as a peasant,
Since their needs are to impress.
But you are kept in the presence.
And those who know it,
Know you're blessed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Confronting Delusions
With slander and character assassinations,
Already effective.
And those of defective states of mind,
Still relying on their pretentions to impress.
The ones left who have addressed truth,
As a means of confronting delusions...
Are safely protected,
From a trauma unsuspecting...
That comes,
To those still holding onto their teddy bears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Everytime I Look for You
I never found out why you left him
But this answer begs that question
Too blind to see tomorrow
Too broke to beg or borrow
Young and stupid
Left wide open
Hearts are wasted
Lives are broken
One more point of contention
I need some intervention
Approached with vague intentions
Betray my short attention
Span the distance
Bridge the border
Beg forgiveness
Round the corner
Everytime I look for you the sun goes down
And I stumble when this whole thing runs aground
I left another message
song performed by by Blink 182 from Take Off Your Pants & Jacket
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Façade
Success had meant for many,
The acquiring of things.
And a dress to impress façade.
To gain attention and enhance,
A presence others would give approval...
And meaning.
But today a substance is more in demand.
A quality that expresses a genuine-ness...
Is a preference wished on fading deceiving scenes.
A success that impresses is slowly detected.
Folks today are seeking basic ways to live.
Finding themselves to be happier...
In participating in donating their deeds.
When that is done they quietly leave,
Without a need to make pronouncements.
Success had meant for many,
The acquiring of things.
And a dress to impress façade.
To gain attention and enhance,
A presence others would give approval...
And meaning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Very Few That I Have Met
Who do you think you are dealing with?
Some fly by night inexperienced nitwit?
Someone who has not discovered,
Purpose and the meaning of life?
Someone who excites by any attention given?
And anything shown is perfectly alright?
Nothing that I have learned,
Led me to believe...
I was the center of the universe.
My upbringing 'instantly'...
Chased those thoughts away from me!
I like to share my time,
With those pretention free.
Those who have qualities of empathy...
And a thoughtfulness learned,
After a discovered identity!
Some folks don't know who they are!
And masquerade as someone else.
And after going through a few disguises...
Myself,
I will only spend my time,
With those who give a damn...
About life and what it offers!
There is nothing like knowing,
The I...in I Am.
So you need not try to offer anything less.
Since more of what I am looking for...
Is not worn or shown just to impress!
I am into much more.
And very few that I have met,
Can or have yet...
Let a 'realness' that is inside,
Come outside to be addressed!
Everyone appears,
To be caught up in distress!
And 'busy bodying' themselves...
In someone else's left mess!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Long Has It Been?
How long has it been?
Since you left me
Our friends ask the question
All of the time
I tried to measure it
In years, months, and days
Even hours, minutes and seconds
But I lost track along the way
The hurt still lingers
The question, unanswered
And I’m getting to the point
Where I don’t care anymore
I used to look out the window
In hope you would one day pass by
But as time passed
The loving grew less
Now when friends ask
How long has it been?
I tell them I don’t care
But secretly I do
I’m still in love with you
poem by David Harris
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Early Works - Mementos From Passing Lives
Little time capsules lie hidden
beneath the turmoil of passing lives.
Tiny mementos laid down
by strangers who passed this way
at some time in distant years.
An empty cigarette packet
someone enjoyed the contents,
but when the question remains unanswered.
Nuts, bolts, washers and screws
these mementos suggest something
and also another question.
Standing here, I stare around me
remembering my time here
and wondering what mementos
my life has left for strangers
in the future years.
Again another question
but not one I care to answer.
28 February 1986
poem by David Harris
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Mementoes From Passing Lives
Little time capsules lie hidden,
beneath the turmoil of passing life.
Tiny mementoes laid down,
by strangers that passed this way.
Pieces of life from years gone by.
An empty cigarette packet,
someone enjoyed the contents,
But when?
The question remains unanswered.
Nuts, bolts, washers and screws.
These mementoes suggest something,
and another question.
Standing here I look around me,
remembering my time here,
and wondering what mementoes,
my life has left for strangers,
in the future years.
Again another question,
But not one I care to answer.
28 Feb.1986
poem by David Harris
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Hearts In Armor
(written by jude johnstone)
One more day
My hearts in armor
Though I meant to let you in
In an effort not to harm it
I have missed my chance again
I was singing when I freed you
But my pride was just a veil
I pretended not to need you
Now my heart tells a different tale
And every hour that goes by
The harder I become
Because I let that well run dry
Because I left you unanswered
Then like a fool I kept my secret
When it made no sense to try
Now I can no longer keep it
For its late and the moon is high
And every hour that goes by
The harder I become
Because I let that well run dry
Because I left you unanswered
One more day my hearts in armor
Though I did not see it then
I would finish what you started
If I had that chance again
I would finish what you started
If I had that chance again
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone Is The Light
Every day I wake in my lonely bed
How I wish that I was dead
No more left to be said
A great burden I carry on my head
All I do is question why
No longer pointing my head to the sky
No more wind is in my sail
Nothing more I can fail
I have lost my only friend
In love I fall never again
It is sad but yet so true
Nothing left for me to do
Into the night I'll fade away
For me there's just no more day
All is left is the night
Gone tomorrow the sun light
Darkness surrounds everywhere
Gray are my skies since she's not here
Turned his back no longer I sleep
For my soul no one will keep
As winter’s chill cometh the dawn
Lost all my senses since she’s gone
The darkness cry’s out my name
Hard I find to live down the shame
No longer can I conceal my sorrow
Why must there be a tomorrow
No more comes a brighter day
It just won’t seem to go away
This is a first for me to be alone
I've never been on my own
Gone are the days of my happiness
All is left is pure sadness
No one left to kiss and caress
No longer do I have someone to impress
The darkness I now embrace
For I have fallen on my face
No more to rise it’s the end
For I’ve lost my best friend
That voice I no longer hear
For she’s no longer here
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Left Hand
It was typical of you
To give it to me plain
The sign on your door
Said make your mind up or go away
It was difficult for me
To figure you out
Left hand
Always wants to know what the right is doing
Tell the way we miss out on something
We're free
But there is nothing when I present
It was typical of you
To feather your nest
Try to explain
Me and my big mouth were laid to rest
There's nowhere to go
But I'm not hanging around
Left hand
Pick me up and then you put me down
Left hand
Always wants to know what the right is doing
Tell the way we miss out on something
We're free
But there is one thing when I present
Left hand
Left hand
Left hand
Always wants to know what the right is doing
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Then You Left Me
I never ask for any time from you baby.
I never ask for any lies.
You only hurt the one you love the most baby.
You only had to make me cry.
'Cause you left me (you left me) all alone (you left me)
You left me(you left me) to stand alone.
And ev'ry night I sit beside my bed baby.
And I keep thinking of your love.
The things we dreamed about.
How much I love you baby.
We had the world and the stars above.
But then you left me (you left me) all alone.(you left me)
You left me . You left me (you left me) to stand alone.
You left me to stand alone.
You left me to stand alone.
You left me. You left me. You left me. You left me.
song performed by by Bee Gees from Cucumber Castle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is The 'Real' Intention Hidden
Why is it that there are those with beliefs,
Who feel if something they do...
Another should follow their lead,
To leave perceived.
And I've always felt,
If someone does something unsolicited...
It was something 'they' chose to do.
Not demand an attention be attached to it.
If I do something from my heart,
And it is given from the start.
That's it.
An acknowledgement would be nice.
But if there isn't one to come...
I'm not going to think twice,
About what it is I've done...
if it wasn't a bona fide sacrifice.
Many get offended if their actions done,
Does not get an attention.
And their motives I question with a suspicion...
What is the 'real' intention hidden,
Left going unmentioned?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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High Five
Thank you for the attention given.
And the quickness you do this with such speed.
I am so blessed you've left my cup half full.
And yours?
I am sure from your position,
You have enough not to leave you empty.
So I too give to you my high five!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Will To Die
Emptiness again
Left alone again
Left to question all
That's happened...
And no one cares
And no one cares
All that's left is
The will to die...
Try... try to hold
On what's left
Inside... empty (and
This emptiness i'm
Left with)
Reaching (has me
Reaching for a
Reason) lonely
(this loneliness
Consuming)
Searching (i'm
Searching for the
Answers) will you
Do the same? ...
Try... try to find
Peace
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is It Now Are You Left To Believe?
What sense is it to hold grudges against,
The one who comes to warn?
To then have them depicted as negative,
With a dismissing of the warning?
Only to wonder when alone and reminiscing,
Why were you picked to be chosen to warn?
By and 'angel' who came but was not adorned,
To address you enough to impress with a message.
What is it now are you left to believe?
A listening to comprehend?
When you could have prevented,
An agony suffered with much regret?
And the one who warned you bitterly scorned.
Believing them evil and full of devil-ment?
What is it now are you left to believe?
Only those dressed to impress,
Have your best interests?
With deceptions you'd rather receive?
Or do you find more time to reflect,
Who comes delivering messages...
You should consider and accept.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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