Moments of Their Mourning
The biggest honor you can bestow,
On someone deceased.
Is to participate,
If asked to speak...
During their homegoing service.
You may not believe,
You have this skill or ability!
But someone saw it in you.
That's why you were approached...
To deliver inspiration.
Only in the way that you can do.
Bringing somewhat of a closure,
To those in heartbreak exposing grief.
Your words will lift them up and away...
And relieve them from their agony.
With an effectiveness,
That can and will assist...
To bring them in memory,
Of those happy times that existed.
And it was felt,
That only you would be able to do this...
To ease them during this period,
In which loved ones are certain to mourn.
And you need to be there...
Aware and sharing,
In moments of their mourning.
Dedicated to...
My sister Andrea (Mimmie) D. Pertillar Dixon.
These words were spoken to her daughter Shayla,
My niece.
Who felt she could not speak,
During a funeral in 'celebrating' the life...
And not the death of a close friend.
'Mimmie? What can I say?
I 'had' to lift this conversation.
I hope you realize how great your comments made
to Shayla, inspired me as well.
I may be biased!
However...
You are one terrific person.
I may be one of the writers in the family.
But...
You sure know how to deliver the right words.
And at the right time and place.'
Love you,
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen of What Is Right
Yes!
She is my sister.
And Queen,
Of What Is Right.
No one,
Not even me...
Can argue with Mimmie D.
She is seldom wrong!
So prepare to take a hike.
She's quite talented and gifted.
And seems to never rest.
She makes things look too easy.
Even her children, Shayla and Landry...
Often find time with her protest.
But Mimmie is quite a special person!
And yes, I can say this...
It is true,
She knows what is best.
She knows how to dress with style and grace.
When she cooks a meal,
I've witness people stuff their faces.
Everything she touches,
Has a quality to it.
And she's the first on the scene,
When family, friends and those she loves get sick!
Did I tell you she was a nurse?
When she was just a child...
Healing the 'universe' she use to rehearse.
She tried to practice her skills on me!
But I had to remind her...
I was the one born first!
'Mahhhh...
Will you tell Mimmie to leave me alone.
She's trying to tell me what to say.
When I get on the telephone! '
Yes!
She is my sister.
And Queen,
Of What Is Right.
Yes, we had our arguments.
And yes we had our childish fights.
But on September 10th two thousand and nine,
My little sister will be sixty.
And it is hard to believe,
Without me...
She has done quite fine.
But sometimes I wonder about her husband AL.
After thirty six years of wedded bliss with sister Mim...
He seems to get better as he ages with her.
And not showing one sign,
He is out of his mind!
There has to be 'something' WRONG with THEM.
Two peas in the same pod.
The love they have for each other,
Today...
IS quite odd!
Yes!
She is my sister.
And Queen,
Of What Is Right.
And I love her dearly with all my heart!
Since Andrea and me,
Are both alike.
'Mahhhh...
will you tell LArry to leave me alone.
And mine his own business,
When I talk on the telephone! '
Dedicated to my sister,
Andrea 'Mimmie' Doreen Pertillar Dixon.
In celebration of her 60th birthday.
September 10th 2009.
'I love you, Mimmie.'
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Me Mimmie
Give me Mimmie.
Her honesty I accept.
Give me Mimmie.
What she does,
It's done at her best!
She 'may' have a flaw.
Not too many I have seen.
She's my oldest 'and' younger sister.
And when she whips her dander up...
Watch out!
She can let off some steam.
A jewel, a star...
A bright light shining.
Never to complain,
She refrains from whining.
Wife, mother and devoted grandmother too.
She says she has retired!
But from what?
She's 'so' busy.
She's always finding something to do!
Give me Mimmie.
Her honesty I accept.
Give me Mimmie.
What she does,
It's done at her best!
She's funny when she says she is going to relax.
By preparing a meal for fifty or more people...
For some function at her church,
Where she is very active at!
She doesn't hesitate,
To express the wisdom that she has.
It's sharp and quite clear,
To whomever it is passed.
And she entertains with humor.
When she jokes,
You are going to laugh.
She's quite accomplished...
Undertaking several task!
Yes...
Give me Mimmie.
Her honesty I accept.
Give me Mimmie.
What she does,
It's done at her best!
Dedicated to:
My sister Andrea Doreen 'Mimmie' Pertillar Dixon
'Love you, young lady! '
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ms Shay
Thirty-one years old...
Wow how time has passed.
With looks of a teen-ager!
'Now Shayla...
You and I know that ain't gon' last! '
But you have a timeless beauty,
And what's greater is your heart that's pure.
You have Kamara and Kevin...
Two wonderful children you raise.
They reflect your terrificness,
And you deserve the praise.
I wont mention your cooking...
Because someone else might be reading this,
And looking!
But I will say this...
I've heard you cook a mean pot of grits!
You know Uncle Larry likes to tease...
Especially you, my beautiful niece!
And when all is said and done...
I want the world to know,
How magnificent you have become!
I am so proud of you, 'Ms Shay'
And I am wishing you a glorious,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Dedicated to My Niece:
Ms Shayla Louise Dixon
On her birthday
August 21st 2007
'Love you, My precious one! '
Uncle Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Do Not Seek Publicity
There are those who give,
With such positivity!
And with just one purpose...
To encourage others.
They do not seek publicity,
For their good deeds.
Nor do they anticipate in waiting,
For those they assist to express appreciation.
They are here to give!
With the service to others,
They do so well.
And those blessings they receive.
Dedicated to:
Andrea Dixon...Springfield, Mass.
Shayla Dixon...Springfield, Mass.
Leola McCrory...Windsor, Connecticut
Edna Vinters...Bloomfield, Connecticut
Sandra Lindsay...Hartford, Connecticut
Virginia Pertillar...Hartford, Conencticut
'Okay! Okay...so I am biased.
They just happen to be,
Some of the most dynamic women...
I am blessed to know.
Is my smile too broad that it doesn't show? '
So proud am I.
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How It Feels to be 61
I was asked how it feels to be 61?
As if I was an exhibit.
Lost...
And finding my way back to a museum.
I didn't know whether to say I still felt like a human being.
Nothing about that has changed!
Was I being made to feel paranoid?
How could I avoid that 'look' if it was seen?
'I feel great!
I have never been this age before.
So the experience is new to me.
I can better respond to that,
When I turn 62! '
Sixty-two? SIXTY-TWO? ? ?
Seriously.
I never think of aging until someone brings it up.
When I am with my nephew and niece and their children,
We all have a lot of fun.
Now my brother-in-law and sister see them more than I do.
Maybe that is the reason they are less hesitant,
To jump around and giggle with them.
AL and my sister Mim look as if they have giggled out!
With expressions that beg for vacations.
I tell them all the time just how blessed they are!
'Yeah, we're smothered in our fortunes! '
I can just imagine!
Ahhh...to be 61!
God knows what He is doing.
Because I know if I had children...
They way these children are today?
I'd be sitting up in a prison.
Or strait jacketed in a pad locked cell!
I was extremely sad when my son Michael passed.
Many years ago!
But I can say I am rather glad...
Mimmie and AL had the task,
Of raising some wonderful children!
'Yes...
We are so blessed.
Aren't we AL? '
My sister Mimmie gives these looks,
That are so very funny!
I can look at them all and leave!
That's how it feels to be 61!
Kiss them all and leave with them my love.
And take some with me.
To a place where I have quiet and peace.
'Thank you, God! '
I was asked how it feels to be 61?
As if I was an exhibit.
Lost...
And finding my way back to a museum.
I didn't know whether to say I still felt like a human being.
Nothing about that has changed!
Was I being made to feel paranoid?
How could I avoid that 'look' if it was seen?
'How do I feel?
Great.
I had a wonderful workout with my great niece Kamara...
And my great nephew, Kevin...her brother!
I feel wonderful.
I go for my next workout sometime next month!
But I will take twice that time to rest...
In the quietness of my home! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Heffa
'Don't let me chase you...
Heffa! '
My mother would say this,
Before she did my sister's hair.
And I would sit in a chair...
To watch my sister.
And she would cry and I would stare.
'What you looking at? '
My sister Mimmie would say!
I'm looking at you!
What you gonna do?
'You kids better not start nothing with me.
Hold your head still, girl!
And don't you say another word, Larry! '
I would think to myself...
'Is Mimmie a 'heffa' when she gets her hair done?
Why when I called her that...
She would chase me,
And I would run?
Then my mother would say,
'Would you kids stop that!
Both of you get on my last nerve.
Stop that fighting crap.'
Ma, what is a 'heffa'?
And why is Mimmie one?
Is it the way she looks...
When her hair is undone?
If I called her that,
She wants to fight with me.
Daddy don't call her a heffa.
Why do you...
Exclusively?
My mother would look at me,
As if I was crazed.
I could tell in her eyes,
She was trying for 'something' to say!
I never heard my mother curse.
She didn't have to back then.
But I grew to understand...
'Heffa' was a word,
Black women shared between them!
And my sister Mimmie...
Thought she needed to keep me in 'check'!
And 'if' I didn't leave her alone...
A grown man I would never become or get!
I grew up in a family of very strong willed 'heffuhs'!
Dedicated to:
Those women in my family whom I love dearly.
And I have learned what they say to each other,
And amongst themselves...
Is between them as women!
And they have provided me with 'much' wisdom!
I know now...
What is said 'endearingly' between them,
Is not for a man to repeat!
Even though they can say what they wish,
About us!
'Right, fellas'?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I've Done the Best I Can So You Can Do That Better
Beneath the tree
That falling leaves descended from,
I stand.
Thinking of the changes,
I have experienced being the man I am.
'She is now called 'Mama'!
Ma! Or Ms Mimmie'.
When she's with her children...
And grandchildren too!
And I look up above me to witness the branches.
The twigs!
And the wonder of the tree...
All of this ascends from!
'Matriarch she is! ', I think with no doubt.
And the birds, squirrels and all that come to visit,
Are always welcomed
And I wonder if anyone wonders...
'How can anyone disbelieve there is a God? '
How can this be done?
And by whom?
We all can't be vacant with a disconnected fate!
'Something' is planned by the doing in all of this!
'Something' is in control and knows everything that sits...
Within and 'out' of our midst.
'Something' about this most people miss.
'How can anyone disbelieve there is a God? '
And we are God's experiment!
And my 'sisters' were born to nourish the flourishment.
And I can see...
Looking at 'this' tree before me I inspect.
And 'It' observes...knowing!
Encouraging those after birth and going...
After growing up,
With a gentle toughness that is meant.
'I've done the best I can so you can do that better.'
Dedicated:
To my sister Andrea. Mim, Mimmie and MimmieD
'You have 'eight' grandchildren? EIGHT? How, Mimmie? '
Where was I when all of this happened?
And Tammy and Lisa? ? Naw. No way, yo?
You can 'not' be in your 'fffffffffffffaaug. Getting 'more'
mature. Geeeessshhh. HOW do you all get so much older
than me? Overnight it seems.
LOL
Love you,
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why You So Dramatic?
You could have said goodbye.
But 'no'!
You wanted me to suffer.
You wanted to drag my heart,
Across the hot flaming coals.
You wanted to see me in grief...
With no relief in sight!
You wanted to hear me wimper like a puppy.
Until my tail felt the ground,
To drag on and around all day long.
I know what you're up to.
But that's not going to work this time.
I've been hardened!
I didn't look for you at all.
Even in the height of my sorrow!
In an emptiness...
That seemed to have lingered on forever!
'Uncle Larry...
We just come back from the store.
You were sleeping.
We didn't want to wake you!
Geessshhh!
Why you so dramatic? '
It is a skill,
You all have helped me sharpened!
Go if you must.
But know this...
God comforts me in your absence!
'We've already been.'
Then why are you up in my face?
I know you all have better things to do?
Don't start with your annoying abilities.
I too have gifts you have never seen.
Dedicated to my wonderful Niece,
Nephew...Great-Nieces and Great-Nephews:
Landry, Shayla, Kevin, Alana, Chi'Ann, Kamara
T'Ana, Andrew, André and Brandy Bre'Ana!
Love you guys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Odd Balls
Who needs other people coming to deliver,
Baskets of grief as if fruit to eat.
Respect is what is needed,
To help lift those tensions,
With relief.
Expressing respect,
Should be one's prime delivery.
False sympathies spoken,
From those hearts deep in misery.
Hinders the healing of the ones who leave,
Agonies felt,
Behind them as they mend.
They wish not to hear them over and over again.
Those that are able to reflect from mistakes,
Are free to welcome happiness,
With a shedding of that which has caused heartbreak.
And doing what it takes,
To stand strong and tall to then walk away.
Who needs other people coming to deliver,
Baskets of grief as if fruit to eat.
With a convincing attempted,
To get attention as they speak...
How people who are honest and truth seekers,
Are the 'odd balls' to disbelieve.
People nourishing insecurities,
Love to feed them as if they are welcomed company.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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0013 And, Friend...
and if you wonder, friend, why I begin
a poem thus – you are to understand
that it’s as if
we have been close friends all our life,
friends, as Kabir defined a friend
as if no-one ever tried to speak of friend before –
friends, who share the silences between their words
as much as sharing their most inward thoughts;
so, our conversation’s just as much
a continuation of our friendship,
wasting no time in speaking passing things,
sharing some new thought in turn
and asking more for listening
than easy agreement for politeness’ sake;
for, we’re listening to the allness of the all -
all that has been said and
all that cannot yet be said
but thought in silences, in pauses between speech,
all that we might say
when we find words in which to say it,
and because
there’s not much time, to say what we would say
and so, we speak of that which time
can never steal; so there is always time
to speak, and hear the silence
out of which speech comes;
listening for the unspoken
bringing miracles
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Shi'Ann
Man...
I love my greatniece.
One of three sisters,
Born in the middle.
And can be sometimes sweet...
Bossy AND opinionated.
Like her mom and dad,
Grandparents...
T'ana and Allahna too.
We wont include Aunt Shayla...
She of course turns it on at will!
When things are not going the way
As Ms Shay says they should,
She gives us all eyes that can kill!
But my Shi'Ann,
Is the one that fits the bill!
You once asked me one day...
'Uncle Larry, write about me,
And what will you say? '
I will say my greatniece ShiAnn is grand.
She's terrific with a heart of gold!
And what Shi'Ann does...
Will be in the way,
Only Shi'Ann can...
Making sure others obey!
Dedicated:
To my greatniece Shi'Ann Pertillar
'Love you...'
Uncle Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One and Of All
Thank You,
Almighty!
I've come to give You
The Praise!
I've come to You focused...
Dear God.
Quiet and subdued,
To ask of You
For a complete release.
From the craving that has crazed,
Those of the flesh...
And of wicked ways.
I've come to You wishing,
And wanting an uplift in consciousness.
To raise higher in my mind...
A rising devotion,
And happiness that is mine!
Knowing without You,
Inside of me stirring my soul...
My life has no dropp of wholesomeness.
None 'that' I should maintain.
None 'that' must remain I should hold!
Without You!
And...
I thank You,
Almighty,
For 'all' and everything.
From the appearance of dew...
Misting the dawning of morning Sun.
To the glistening of those rays,
Reflected...
On the surface of the Moon,
When night comes.
To enhance Your stay,
Father.
And the stars twinkling in the Heavens,
Sparkling from Cosmic light!
This is what I witness.
This delights my appetite.
And I thank You Almighty!
For this life...
This life given.
To adventure and explore this 'gift'
Only You have manifested...
And allowed me to feel blessed with!
Thank You,
Almighty!
Keeper and Giver of 'this' experience!
The One and of All.
And 'here' in me to express...
Such gratefulness,
I wish to give!
Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall!
And so honored I am to confess,
I recognize Your Angels sent...
To ensure that I do for You,
Always pursuing I will,
My best!
Thank You,
Almighty!
I've come to give You
The Praise!
I come and welcome this bliss with You.
Knowing someday,
Eternity with You...
I will come to stay!
Dedicated:
To my wonderful sister...
Mrs. Andrea Doreen ('Mimmie') Pertillar Dixon
Wife, Mother, Grandmother and Friend!
Gifted. Wise. And...'Stubborn'...LOL
'Love you, Mimmie'
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Women's League Day Care Center
My early lessons taught,
Were delivered...
At the Women's League Day Care Center,
In Hartford, Connecticut.
I had to have been all of two,
Or maybe 3 years old...
When I first began the beginning,
Of an aware consciousness.
I though my mother was giving me away!
And I was quick to show everyone,
Within listening distance...
I didn't like it at all!
I remember Mrs. Hines!
And the wrought iron encased stairsteps,
To the dismal West Avon Street joint.
Right off of Main Street.
A stone's throw...
From Bellevue Square.
A tenement project,
I loved and hated equally.
OH!
I forgot.
This is a poem.
Not a Declaration of Independence.
Well,
Anyway...
The Women's League Daycare Center,
Was extremely significant in my growth process.
I didn't realize it,
Until I was well into my 20's...
What a gift, my sister Mimmie and I, were given.
Gee...
That was back in either 1949 or '50!
And Mim and her husband AL,
Are GRANDPARENTS.
You know...
My mother 'always' told us,
God works in mysterious ways.
And to this day,
I'd like to know...
How my niece, Shayla
And my nephew, Landry...
My sisters Tammy and Lisa,
Get to be...
So much 'older' than me?
Do we 'not' share the same genes?
OH!
This could go on and on.
I feel it!
Dedicated:
To the Women's League Day Care Center,
a name I knew it as for 'many' years.
Located in Hartford, Connecticut.
'Probably the first day care center established,
in the country. Who knows? I'm a writer/poet...
not an historian.
Although, I'm beginning to feel like a dinosaur.
A youthful one, I might add.'
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Words between words
Words between words
~
I try and say most things subtle
To slip words between words
In the hope you will read and hear
Sometimes I speak with blunt honesty
Sometimes wish I just didn’t speak
Sketching in secret characters
Telling stories built on fantasy
When a subtle look reveals
The obvious biography
Those words between words
What I write, what I speak
I understand words more than people
Words always seem easy
We all have things we wish to say
Some are said, others kept
All that is written then spoken
Are words between words
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Family Bond
Forty years ago today,
My sister bore a child
When I saw her baby girl
I recall I really smiled
I myself was still a child
I was only 12 years old
I loved this little girl so much
To me she was precious as gold
Over time I watched her grow
Our bond was very unique
I loved to hear her little voice
When she was learning to speak
This little girl was oh so shy
And the cutest there could be
A charming little character
This was plain to see
Life went by we grew so close
She became my special friend
As we matured we've grown to know
On each other we can depend
She's loyal to her family
Shows care and devotion each day
She's also loving and giving
Shows kindness in every way
She's now a beautiful adult
And has children of her own
She's such a lovely person
In her body not one bad bone.
I'm happy to say this woman's my niece
She's a gift from the heavens above
She really is one special lady
Who's so very easy to love
I thank my very dear sister
For sharing her daughter with me
With this kind deed I really am
The luckiest Aunt that there could be
To The Greats
To my great nephew.
And wonderful great nieces.
You all are tremendous.
I love you to pieces.
Kevin Lawrence,
I already see in you...
Your stubbornness.
And unchanging attitude.
Oh, I see me in you I do.
God bless your mother Shayla.
And your daddy Kevin too.
Along with your sister Kamara...
Accomplishments you will pursue.
T'Ana, Allanah and Shi'An...
Three strong willed women,
Who take control and command.
Your parents Rhonda and Landry...
Have been mesmerized by your skills.
Your graciousness and talents,
Captivate and thrill.
And as your great uncle,
I just want you to know...
So proud I am of all of you,
As I observe you blooming to grow.
Evolving into adults you are.
With love and wisdom you bestow.
Never let that go!
Dedicated:
To my wonderful 'greats'.
Love you, Uncle Larry.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Writer's Drought
You've heard of a thing called writer's block and you've heard of writer's drought
But writers are never short of things on which they can write about
It's just at times their inspiration well does seem to run dry
And they cannot seem to pen a line though hard enough they try.
The writers drought it causes writers moments of self doubt
Till the words that seem locked in them eventually flow out
Through their pens to their notebooks their dry spells do not last
And on time lost out on penning words they seem to catch up fast.
Some writers in their writing drought cannot seem to feel inspired
To write even a single line they feel mentally tired
But when fresh inspiration comes to them much better stuff they do write
And feeling re-invigorated they sit and pen all night.
Most writers you will talk to of writers drought can tell
When there is no inspiration in their inspiration well
But when inspiration returns to them and their creative juices flow
They become much better writers and in self confidence grow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Her love is my inspiration
Her love is my inspiration
Love is the inspiration for my heart to sing a tune,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear,
love is the inspiration for my soul to warm,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to smile,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to glisten.
Love is the inspiration to draw my soul near another
love is the inspiration for my mouth to utter sweet words,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to gaze upon her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to speak out.
Love is the inspiration for need, love is the inspiration for my mouth to touch hers,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to close,
love is the inspiration for my heart to race,
love is the inspiration for my tears to burn.
Love is the inspiration for longing,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to see only her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to cry out,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear her whispers,
love is the inspiration for my soul to join hers forever.
Love is the inspiration for forever,
love is the inspiration for my heart to be whole,
love is the inspiration for my ear to always hear those words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to have hers,
love is the inpiration for my mouth to speak the truth.
Love is the inspiration for my soul to seek life
love is the inspirationfor my ear to hear her words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to reach for her,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to speak her truths,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to always look upon her first,
For she is the inspiration for my Love.
Nathaniel Cole Buddington
poem by Nathan Buddington
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Some Premeditate What They Say
When I speak,
I am not team motivated.
Nor am I representing a cause,
From a membership of devoted worship.
When I speak,
Sometimes I do admit...
My head is quick to release words,
My heart has not had an opportunity to examine...
Before my lips respond.
But when I do speak,
I have to deliver my words with honesty.
Some premeditate what they say.
As if to have had rehearsed their reactions as well.
I do this.
And I know I am not alone.
I have to control my temper,
The best way I can.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Great Friendship
Did Anyone Ever Tell You
How Important You Make Others Feel,
Somebody out here is smiling
About friendship that is so real.
Did Anyone Ever Tell You that
Many Times When they were sad,
Your lovely voice made them smile a bit
In fact, It made me so happy.
Each time you send something
Sharing whatever you have,
There are No Words to Thank You
But Somebody thinks you're a great friend.
Did Anyone Ever Tell You
Just How Much They Love You
Well, My Dearest Friend
Today I am Telling You that
I love you so much.
You're a great friend,
My true friend,
No words can described them
How great you are.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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