No Half-Time For Snacks
I am often amused
By those who believe
Creative people are weak.
I never thought that myself.
Since I knew too many geniuses...
Nearly living in the streets.
To pursue their way of life.
They weren't the ones,
Having coffee and buns.
And waiting to take an hour lunch break...
To come back to a desk,
To finish something that never gets done.
Or have cash on hand,
From a job where they are incompetent.
Everyone I knew who created...
Were and still are masters,
Of their gifts and talents.
And I know of very few...
Who take from nothing,
To make something like they do!
While so many take creativity for granted.
With nothing in their lives to pursue...
But a happy hour after work.
To discuss who they wish to screw...
Before going home to smoke pot,
Or booze to annoy someone
Who listens to them sing the blues.
And all of those who do create...
Are somewhere applying their craft.
24/7!
With no half-time for snacks!
Or...
Spending most of their lives,
Complaining!
Laying to lounge or sleep on their backs.
With a remote in hand,
Surfing through their televised adventures.
To boast about...
At their next 'business' meeting.
How creative?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
What Is From Them Expected
Busy are they kept
The minds of those creative
Without sleep to say hours have been slept
Tools they are used
And lives lived blessed
Few who have identified
Their creative connections
Can say they are motivated
By something they do
They themselves initiate
Busy are they kept
The minds of those creative
Without sleep to say hours have been slept
Tools they are used
And lives lived blessed
With a doing done for them selected
And not much of a choice
To leave behind to neglect or forget
Few who have identified
Their creative connections
Can say they are motivated
By something they do
They themselves initiate
Those with gifts and talents given
Will confess from birth
They have known from within
What is from them expected
With a doing done from them to complete next
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Coffee Dream
Although it’s only one hour till lunch -
my stomach won’t wait.
Non-stop growling for the past two hours
has gotten the best of me.
Besides, my taste buds
are ready to murder for a cup of coffee.
Should I say ‘murder’ in a courthouse?
I discovered myself in the eating lounge
with a coffee machine that still doesn’t work.
How unfair that I can’t leave the building
for a quick cup of coffee till lunch.
So, I resort to having the small salad and orange
that was to be my lunch.
Still, I want that coffee!
I’ll take it boiling hot
right out of the pot.
So now I look forward
to when then release us for lunch.
I plan to run down the street and get
a very large cup of coffee -
maybe two or three.
I desperately need my caffeine fix for today.
Grateful to Express
They don't know what 'this' is!
'This'...here!
Because they have no idea who I am,
And 'how' I am connected to it!
'They'!
'Them'!
'Those' and/or the others...
Believe creative expression is easy.
That's why they are quick to toss it aside...
And dismiss it as simplistic.
A lazy man's genocide!
They rather adorn something worn...
Or display a thing or two,
To show those thoughtless how well they are doing!
In something quick and pleasing to the eye.
Since being creative is for the 'lazy'.
And they want to be portrayed as 'thee' workers,
Of the Earth!
You know the type...
Every 15minutes,
They're running to get a cup of coffee!
Or stopping by a co-worker's desk...
For a twenty minute chat,
About where they are going for lunch!
To spend at least an hour and 20 minutes.
Those who 'work' HARD ALL DAY LONG!
You know the kind!
The ones who don't have time,
For exercise or hobbies!
And exhausted from a 9 to 5 gig!
And, of course...
What I do 'anyone' can do and...
WHY aren't you in New York City Or LA...
Anyway?
And as I watch their realities wither away and rust...
I thank God for blessing my life with an abundance,
Of 'nothingness' I am grateful to express!
And share with those from places,
All over the world!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without That Kind Of Interruption
I've had those in my life...
Who believed,
I should be fulfilling 'their' dreams.
I should be acting on stages.
Or be seen on movie screens.
I've even had those,
Who have heard my compositions.
And thought I should sing.
Or because of my voice...
I'd make a great announcer,
On a radio station of my choice.
But,
I've always been a writer.
And that few people knew.
Although I am surprised by that...
Because for years my comments have appeared,
In local newspapers for anyone to view.
And that's a fact.
There is not one talent I have,
That I have not exposed.
And I still have my own dreams to pursue.
While those passing judgement,
And offering their nonsolicited critique...
Have yet to succeed.
Because they are in the business of others,
Like most gossip driven nonproductive folk.
And most of my life I have been quite happy,
Validating my skills.
With a doing of it,
Locally.
Nationally.
And internationally too.
But I must admit I am uncomfortable,
Bragging about what it is I do.
And many people do not have this as an issue.
With the hope that only a few 'selected' knew.
'IF I had your talents,
The whole world would know who I am.'
~Maybe that is the reason,
I have been given them.
To let them evolve...
Without that kind of interruption.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Something Easy to Do
I am told,
Since I enjoy writing...
I must find it easy to do!
First of all...
If someone finds something easy to do.
And they brag about it,
Not because what is done is 'liked'.
It is done because they find it easy.
Nothing is easy about writing.
In fact,
Those creative things I enjoy...
I don't find easy at all!
There are too many critiques involved.
Folks constantly expressing their judgements.
And then there are those who have jobs and drink coffee,
All day long to tell someone like me,
I should get a real job!
I was told that one time,
By someone taking a two hour lunch break!
And if it takes me two days to a month,
To complete a task...
I don't take breaks until that task is done.
I can't think of one creative person,
Associated with the economic collapse.
No one I know with discipline...
Has time to feed a greed.
And ultimately,
Those of creative minds will have to mend this mess!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grew To Believe
I did not awaken with dreams to write.
Or decide I was creative.
I awakened each day trying to fight it,
This appetite I had.
Especially when I thought that I had,
Something I should not want to have.
Few people I knew were encouraged to express,
An acceptance of their gifts.
I grew up in the projects.
And those who were 'different' were made to feel it.
Few people I knew were encouraged to express,
A happiness with talents they possessed.
With a gladness from others...
Who did not address an envy with a jealousness.
But a showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
Yes,
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew!
A showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
Yes,
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew,
To believe.
I did not awaken with dreams to write.
Or decide I was creative.
I awakened each day trying to fight it,
This appetite I had.
But...
A showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
Yes,
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew,
To believe.
A showing of a knowing that I knew,
Grew...
Inside of me.
A showing of a knowing that I knew...
Grew,
To believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Would I Convince?
What are you doing?
'I've awakened this morning,
Deciding I would get serious.'
Serious?
Serious about what?
'My creative abilities.
And expand upon my capabilities.'
I thought you were applying that?
Haven't you been serious?
'Naw,
I was just testing a few ideas.
A few concepts.
Now...
I am ready to begin to unleash my talents.'
So what is that you are doing?
'I've begun to scratch the surface!
How else should I start.
How else should I begin?
I am removing the dust from it now.'
What about the people?
'What people?
What about them?
The people who believe,
They've 'already' been exposed to your 'gifts'...
Those...
Talents?
Or whatever they are called.
'My gifts?
Exposed?
I haven't unwrapped them yet!
Who has been spreading these rumors?
Folks aint got nothing else to do but lie?
OH?
Oh...
They believe my rehearsals,
Have been the real deal!
Hopefully I will be forgiven,
When I reveal the actual product!
And I've got several to launch.
I forgot!
People will accept 'anything' remotely expressing 'talent',
As the real deal.
Wow.
I have to remind myself about that.
Don't you say a word to anyone about this.
You hear me? '
Even if I did...
Who would I convince?
There are some people who actually believe,
They've been exposed to your greatest work.
'LOL...
Ssshhh,
I know.
LOL...
I know!
Stop it,
My stomach hurts.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Then I Met You
Then I met you
Thought that Id be happy
Going to be so happy
Living life alone and never sharing anything
Thought that I was finished
Thought that I was complete
Thought that I was whole instead of being half of something
Thought that I was growing
Growing older, wiser
Understanding why this world held nothing for my spirit
Thought that I was destined
Destined to be nothing
Destined to be nothing in this world and then I met you.
I met you
Thought that God had failed me
Thought my prayers were useless
Thought that he would never give the chance for me to praise him
Thought the book was written
Thought the game had ended
Thought the song was sung and I could never sing another
Thought my faith was misplaced
Thought my back was broken
Broken by a weight that I was never fit to carry
Thought I knew this city
Thought I knew all about it
And then one night I went to morningside and you were waiting
I met you
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Solve problems with your creative cue
Problems, no issue
Solve them with your creative cue
Reach heights which others did not pursue
You are born only to win
If not realized, it is a great sin
It is a fact, not just a design
To make you work hard and take pain
The creativity in you should be awakened
Otherwise, the already tired you further weakened
Realize the strengths in you, your focus sharpened
You can go quite a far, so stay determined
Do not just depend on your abilities,
Fine-tune your approach to opportunities
A lot of them waiting, not they are difficulties
But steps to success and crowns to your dependabilities
Keep an open mind to the problems you face
They are to be understood deep, not just the surface
Collect opinions of others and ensure gainful interface
All problems have solutions; it is what you will phrase
Always nurse in you a desire to excel
Enthuse others too to get into this cell
So that all collectively purposefully marshal
To achieve beyond universal and goals very special
Enter not into an argument, but in discussion
As we are here only to share a vision
Not to prove a point should be our mission
All points, we all know, deserve admission
Decisions are ways to realize a collective dream
They should be clear and transparent like a stream
Every thing smooth, following a natural theme
Without hurting, you are sure to win the cream
Shake up the creative abilities in you
A lot hidden and so far did not come up to view
Redefine problems with your creativity giving a lot cue
Solve them and reach heights, which others did not pursue
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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IF (I Only Had One Leg)
If I only had one leg, I'd give up work and start to beg,
I'd find myself a comfy spot, not too cold, and not too hot.
I'd dress in old and shabby clothes and strike a world-worn weary pose,
I'd play on peoples sympathy, to give their hard-earned cash to me.
Then I'd spend it in the Pub on endless beer and Gastro-Grub.
If I only had one eye, I'd see my way to getting by,
I'd buy a leather patch, I think, and use the other eye to blink.
I wouldn't have as good a view, with only one instead of two,
This doesn't mean I couldn't cope, especially with a Telescope.
I'd get myself a job at Sea, and keep an eye out constantly.
If I only had one ear, it wouldn't mean I couldn't hear,
It might be awkward to wear glasses, or to sit at backs of classes.
Though benefits might just accrue, from having one instead of two,
With only one to wash behind, and only half the wax to find.
And I could make a new career, of offering 'to lend an ear'
If I only had one hand, I'm sure that you would understand,
I'd find it hard to tie a knot, or play the Flute an awful lot,
And I suppose I would refrain, from taking up the Drums again.
But there'd be lots that I could do, with just one hand instead of two.
With Hi-Viz vest and Lollipop, I could force you all to stop!
But laying here in reverie, will make me late for work I see,
So I'll get up and take a shower and hit my desk within the hour.
I'll 'jump-to-it' when called upon, as if I'm an automaton,
I'll listen when I'm spoken to, and do what I am told to do.
But I can always dream again....What if I fell under a train....
poem by Owain Glyn
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No One Lives Forever
You worry too much / you make yourself sad
You cant change fate / but dont feel so bad
Enjoy it while you can / its just like the weather
So quit complaining brother . . . . . . .
No one lives forever!!
Lets have a party theres a full moon in the sky
Its the hour of the wolf and I dont want to die
Im so happy dancing while the grim reaper
Cuts, cuts, cuts
But he cant get me (Im as)
Clever as can be, and Im very quick, but dont forget
No one lives forever!!!
You think you got it rough / what about your darling doggy?
Ten short years / and hes getting old and groggy
I dont think its very fair
Cold, chop, low, but its all relative my friend cause
No one lives forever!!!
Lets have a party theres a full moon in the sky
Its the hour of the wolf and i
Dont want to die (but) . . .
No one beats him at his game
For very long but just the same
Who cares, theres no place safe to hide
Nowhere to run--no time to cry
So celebrate while you still can
cause any second it may end.
And when its all been said and done . . .
Better that you had some fun
Instead of hiding in a shell-why make your life a living hell?
So have a toast, and down the cup
And drink to bones that turn to dust (cause) . . .
No one, no one, no one, no one . . . . . . . (etc.)
No one lives forever!! (hey!)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pastime Paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been wasting most their time
Glorifying days long gone behind
Theyve been wasting most their days
In remembrance of ignorance oldest praise
Tell me who of them will come to be
How many of them are you and me
Dissipation
Race relations
Consolation
Segregation
Dispensation
Isolation
Exploitation
Mutilation
Mutations
Miscreation
Confirmation...to the evils of the world
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Theyve been looking in their minds
For the day that sorrows gone from time
They keep telling of the day
When the savior of love will come to stay
Tell me who of them will come to be
How many of them are you and me
Proclamation
Of race relations
Consolation
Integretion
Verification
Of revelations
Acclamation
World salvation
Vibrations
Stimulation
Confirmation...to the peace of the world
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Weve been spending too much of our lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Lets start living our lives
Living for the future paradise
Praise to our lives
Living for the future paradise
Shame to anyones lives
Living in the pastime paradise
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half An Hour Of Your Happiness
Your heart is in my hand
I am looking after half an hour of your happiness
I am imagining your sad smile
It seems you depend on me too much
I can feel your heart beating
I am putting it into your half an hour of happiness
It is in a safe place in my hand
It seems you depend on me too much
The rhythm of your heart is getting faster
It is happy in your half an hour of happiness
They are in my shaking unsteady hand
It seems you depend on me too much
Your heart wants to jump out of the cage
Called your half an hour of happiness
I am holding them with both hands and trembling
It seems you depend on me too much
Your heart has gone crazy and I do not know why
I wonder if it will survive your half an hour of happiness
I open my hands and I see two embraced hearts
It seems I depend on you too much
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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Sleep All Day
His after moan though cries oh no
Hes building up a shine but he take it slow
And he knows it time to make a change here and time to get away
And he knows its time for all the wrong reasons and time to end the pain
But he sleep all, sleep all day, sleep all, we sleep all day over again
Why dont we?
She said what would your mother think and how would your father react oh lord
Would he take it all back what theyve done
No way he said take it, take it and dont break it with your own two hands
That was my old man and he said
If all is grounded you should go make a mountain out of it
Oh what a lovely day to have a slice of humble pie
Recalling of the while we used to drive and drive here and there
Going nowhere but for us, nowhere but for the two of us
And we knew it was time to take a chance here
And time to compromise our lives for awhile
And it was time for all the wrong reasons
But time is often on my side and I give it to you tonight
And we sleep all, sleep all day, sleep all, we sleep all day over again
As time goes by we get a little bit tired waking and baked another marlboro mile wide
Its sending the boys on the run in the time in hot summer sun
To swim beneath or over outside as theyre reading between the lines
Then they remember the part in the hallmark card where they read about the dreams
And reaching for the stars to hold on a little bit closer to
And they knew it was time, time to take a chance here
Time to compromise our little lives for just a little while
And they knew it was time for all the wrong reasons
As time is often on my side and I give it to you, oh boy
And we sleep all, sleep all day, sleep all, we sleep all day over again
She said what would your mother think and how would your father react oh lord
Would he take it all back what theyve done
No way he said take it, take it and dont break it with your own two hands
That was my old man and he said
If all is grounded you should go make a mountain out of it
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Would Have Requested His Tongue
ooo...
I want to cuss so bad.
'Why don't you? '
I spent no time in the Navy.
Just a few years in the Air Force.
And we were trained to intellectualize our lives.
With a boring done of achievements made and attempted.
My dad,
On the other hand...
Had been a Merchant Marine.
He could box, cuss and swim at the same time.
And if he was alive...
I'm sure they would have requested his tongue,
To exhibit in The Smithsonian.
I would love to sit and hear him pronounce f's and t's...
Where there wasn't any.
He was highly creative and I miss him dearly.
'What cuss words do 'not' have f's and t's in them? '
Exactly!
That's what I'm saying.
He created his own!
And offended those who understimated his talents!
He was a very gifted man.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Had I Knew Ya!
I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
I would have given you much more respect.
Had I knew ya.
With the best...
Had I knew ya!
Of sincerity one gets.
I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
I would have given you much more respect.
Had I knew ya.
With the best...
Had I knew ya!
Of sincerity one gets.
You can bet...
My foul mouth would be kept,
Under lock and key and silent breath!
You can bet...
Knowing you don't annoy!
You can bet...
Knowing you don't annoy!
I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
I would have given you much more respect.
Had I knew ya.
With the best...
Had I knew ya!
Of sincerity one gets.
Knowing you don't annoy!
I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
Knowing you don't annoy!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
Knowing you don't annoy!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
Knowing you don't annoy!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
Knowing you don't annoy!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
You can bet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Come Away
(g.bowser/j.jupp)
Published by chappell & co., ltd. - capac
As I walk along the lonely streets
I cant talk to the people that I meet
I see them come, and I see them go
I see them smile, and say hello
Come with me and take my hand
Ooh, fly away to another land, oh yes we will
Come with me and take my hand
Well fly away to another land
Come over here little girl
And Ill show you another world
Where we can be free to do as we want
Live our lives as we please, and say what we like, oh
Come with me and take my hand, ooh
Well fly away to another land
Come with me and take my hand, oh
And fly away to another land
Theres so many things that remain to be done
And no one has thought of a way to begin
So follow me into my life
Come with me and take my hand (and take...)
Fly away to another land (fly away to another land)
Come with me and take my hand (ooh)
Fly away to another land (fly away to another land)
Come with me and take my hand (take my hand)
Fly away to another land (oh yes we will)
Come with me and take my hand (and take my hand, take my hand)
Fly away to another land (yeah)
Come with me and take my hand
Fly away to another land
Come with me and take my hand
Fly away to another land
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Much Like Alone....
holy infidels laying stone
for the pathway to the intimate...
stopping to smoke, a cup of coffee,
maybe a shot to break the chill...
books are only people
waiting to be set free from the shelf...
people are only spider's webs,
catching tiny fragments of light.
and this body a tired prayer,
spoken by lips both bruised and shaken.
my hand smells too much like alone,
but my feet know the way home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dream Better Dreams
you only live half a life
pay check to pay check
work day to work day
waiting for Friday night
waiting for two day weekend
waiting for next hit TV episode
waiting to pay for rent food
waiting for welfare check if not
lucky you still have a job
you persecute self with strife
you purchase too hectic a life
to sleep perchance to dream
but all dreams are moth balls
sucked down cigarette butts
living on lit red waste fumes
pain relief is swallow pills
drink another cup of coffee
dreams stimulate dreams wake
what happens if dream is not to wake
too many nuclear missiles to make?
scientists dream of new death weapons
cash in an entire planets life coupons
life dreams manufacture new nightmares
dream humanity wars never sleep wakes
prophets of peace dreamed better dreams
humankind to happy futures awaken needs
preserve future or extinct sleep for eternity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Coffee Cigarettes and Time
The late afternoon invites leisurely
to inactivity and rest The best time to sit back
and be waited on like a guest At the corner
coffee shop where the air is thick with smoke
People play pool in the back room placing bets
that provoke The writer who lives alone
on the thirteenth floor is relaxed He smiles
unnoticeably having a completed chapter faxed
The bartender is preparing for the night and
Happy Hour Inventing new fancy drinks
that are potent sweet or sour The old guy
sitting at the bar in no rush to get home on time
Shares opinions over strong coffee about a
forgotten war crime A woman ordered wine
getting cigarettes from the machine Slowly strolls
across the room wearing a stone of aquamarine
Late rush hour traffic encourages to hang out
for a while Two attractive men in the corner sharing
kisses really shy From the speakers on the wall we
can hear a funky jazz tune Sitting in club chairs smoking
stirring coffee with a spoon Time stands still for a
little while when it starts to rain Streaks of water
leave teardrops on the sidewalk as in pain
The streetcar stops and new people join
our convention Accompanied by laughter they
do not pay much attention Rings of smoke take off
being swallowed by the big room Some people order
appetizers but all you smell is perfume The walls
are plastered with old posters of musicians past Here
all you need is coffee cigarettes and time that lasts
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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