No Longer Top Of The List
All of them the self-righteous types,
With ambtions to have status.
And socialize with whom they like.
These are the people who expect their lives,
Prioritized the moment...
A discomfort affects them by surprise.
And with 'means' to keep their flaws diminished,
While actively preventing...
Those with less the same benefits.
They now have to accept and come to realize,
No longer top of the list...
Are their wants and wishes prioritized.
'Why do 'we' have to go through this?
Isn't it understood who we are,
And who we know with influence?
We want our lives back like they were yesterday.
None of us could care less,
What a natural occurrence has from us taken away.
Why is it that we have to go through this?
We are better than that.
And we 'demand' what we had returned back to us,
And...
Make it quick.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
An Exchange Of Values Have Come To Upset
Obtaining gold and diamonds,
Is still prioritized...
In those minds that can not accept,
An exchange of values have come to upset...
The status quo with depth and purpose.
Just to have 'things' to present an image,
Seems to be on the wane for those drained...
And doing the best they can,
To recover from the quick presence of reality.
Many had never met reality so personalized before.
And the experience has been breathtaking.
Even though...
Obtaining gold and diamonds,
Is still prioritized...
In those minds that can not accept,
An exchange of values have come to upset...
The status quo with depth and purpose,
There still remain those...
Clinging onto their delusions,
Since this is the only reality they know!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Happiness Wishes
Once too often,
Many will come to one's aid...
To cater to a need stated.
With a giving done unquestioned.
And it only takes just one more time,
To make that time the last one.
With a giving done.
And whether it does or does not,
Deliver an awakening...
To affect one unconscious.
A sacrificing to do for another stops.
And those who do come,
To provide another with assistance...
Have lives of their own to live to do as done.
Lives lived they too come to realize,
Must also become prioritized...
Without jeopardizing their own,
Happiness wishes to want and not dismiss.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Patient
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
That no longer exist.
I had placed people,
Who I considered friends on this list.
And for years they had been on it...
Doing and saying things to me as they wished.
Some don't speak to me.
But my name is on their lips.
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
That should not on my list exist!
Very few on my priority list,
Have me on their agenda.
And if they do,
I'm sure it's for fun, sport and gossip.
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
I couldn't not explain...
Why some names had hearts near them.
Did I do that?
Did I draw them in?
I use to dropp every and anything,
To be at someone's aide.
Some people I would call everyday...
Just to see if they were okay.
I've even allowed my own work to be submitted...
So folks could get their college degrees.
Joking about this,
I am not!
I have been the subject of innuendos and lies,
As if my life meant nothing at all.
To leave me to walk around with 'my' pain disguised.
Then I awakened and realized.
I am considered a fool!
Today...
When I began to weed through,
My priority list...
I saw some things on it,
That no longer exist.
And wondered to myself 'WHY'...
Is this stuff still 'there'.
Get rid of it!
This makes no sense.
Why do you have these people's lives,
Prioritized?
'That is being too patient!
Fix this and get this done quick! '
I have moments when I am completely rational.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accept For Those Who They Owe
In a world getting more socially global,
They find their values and standards
Over rated and outdated.
Their isolationistic point of view,
No longer supports their dependency on exports.
And no where is anyone importing their arrogance.
Today more people view them,
With pity than with praise.
Like a child once tolerated...
But time has aged those days.
Even slowly they can not be awakened...
From a deep induced sleep.
To see themselves.
In every aspect of their daily lives...
They are delusional and entertain fantasies.
And those who speak of truth and reality...
Are slandered and despised.
Their way of life does not exist anymore.
Not to those with opened wide eyes.
And they can not see themselves as powerless to this.
They can not see themselves,
No longer number one.
No longer the one kept loved and special...
OR prioritized,
On anyone's list.
Accept for those who they owe!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unfulfilled
Many have become saddened,
By the aspects of truth.
And the discomfort it has brought,
Into their seeking lives.
Everything but truth has been sought.
Bringing tears to dropp from many dried eyes.
Crying about their losses and wondering why?
With hollowed prayers demanding from God...
To deliver them from the onslaught of reality,
They choose to deny in its entirety.
Many have become saddened,
By the aspects of truth.
And the discomfort it has brought,
Into their seeking lives.
Unfulfilled and blindly selfish.
Self centered and disrespecting.
And still trying to make attempts to climb,
A greased ladder!
If that was possible to achieve.
But to what heights could they freely breathe?
When it is on the ground,
Where the trees provide that need.
Many have become saddened,
By the aspects of truth.
And the discomfort it has brought,
Into their seeking lives.
Some have been led to believe,
Their lives are exclusively lived.
With disregard for others.
As if their moments here on Earth,
Have annointed them more deserving!
But all that changes...
When The Creator decides,
To take away what He alone awards...
With gratitude to those He knows,
Appreciates His Love.
And bestowing upon them proof,
Of His existence.
And many can not come to do this.
To recognize their eyes,
Would not open...
If this was not the will of God!
Since they have prioritized their lives...
To be lived in indifference.
Excited by the presence of ignorance.
With a helpless attachment to conflict!
Sealed by a victory.
At the expense of remaining,
Unfulfilled!
And killing themselves,
For the thrill of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Basically Into Themselves
People feel and see,
What directly affects.
If it is not prioritized...
They do not get upset.
When winds change,
And blame is claimed...
Those once unconcerned,
Seek attention on them aimed.
An effectiveness is expected then.
When folks feel inconvenienced,
And their whims become threatened.
But prior to that no complaints are heard.
People are basically into themselves...
Until their own footsteps,
Have been blocked or blurred.
In a collective unity,
People find no comfort in that reality.
That sensibility,
Disturbs their 'selfish' and isolated normalcy!
People feel and see,
What directly affects.
If it is not prioritized...
They do not get upset.
However...
When winds change,
And blame is claimed...
Those once unconcerned,
Seek attention upon them aimed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Remember the Ridiculous?
Remember the ridiculous?
When outrageous public statements made,
Were attributed to those considered nonconformists.
Or at least depicted as militant with violent wishes!
And were silenced quick wherever they dared to sit.
Remember the heights achieved by those self righteous?
The ones who quoted from scriptures and knew what sinning meant.
The ones who declared a separation of church and politics.
And spoke of family values and deplored decadence.
With hints they were chosen and others lived to be blasphemous!
Rewind these actions and tell me this...
Whose standards vowed are at a crisis now?
Who authorized the lives we live?
While standing by to watch...
Chaos rise to become prioritized as top notch!
With excuses to make and pointing fingers to give!
Remember the ridiculous?
When outrageous public statements made,
Were attributed to those considered nonconformists.
Or at least depicted as militant with violent wishes!
And were silenced quick wherever they dared to sit.
And those making the most noise today...
Protest loudly in disarray!
In groups to influence and convince in their dismay...
They represent the people who are of conservative ways.
Remember the ridiculous?
When terrorists were thought to ride camels...
And not be Ivy league graduates,
On shores who condoned and promoted this!
With only greed and the economy as the main interest.
Too bad the borders can not be secured,
By those who are staunch racists!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Discussion Of What 'Is' Valued
Mixed marriages.
Sexual preferences.
And those unable to mind their own business.
Is not a good blend,
When in discussion of what 'is' valued.
Since those standards of a yesterday gone,
And once valued to respect others and their choices made...
Are not prioritized,
By those who have their noses...
Up in the cracks of other people's lives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Somehow My Agenda Remains Prioritized
When someone says to me,
I do not have to express...
Or show my concern.
I deliver quick!
Exactly to them what is wished.
And if I should witness approaching trouble,
Heading towards them on the double...
I am dutiful to what I am told,
With eyes I immediately close.
To dismiss any trouble coming to confront,
Is a blessing I have kept unknown.
Confirming in mind,
What is happening does not exist.
Is not a problem at all for me.
I've been trained to know how to distance.
And somehow,
My agenda...
Remains prioritized.
'Owwww...
Help me. Help! Please.'
With little effort or stress!
'Owwww...
Help me. Help! Please.'
And somehow,
My agenda...
Remains prioritized.
With little effort or stress!
'Help me. Help me.
Owwww, please! '
And somehow,
My agenda...
Remains prioritized.
With little effort or stress!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Use To Scuttlebutt
Any time spent evaluating is beneficial.
And taking life for granted,
Is ultimately what one discovers...
During this process.
Time is not on hold and waiting for no one.
Or is it clipping fingernails to improve the look,
Of its hands!
They move forward,
That's it!
Many sit and wish their lives were different,
Than the ones they lived yesterday.
When they were sitting wishing their lives,
Were different than they were...
When those yesterdays came to then go away.
The problem with most people...
Being real with themselves!
And detest others who are!
Listen to those who complain closely.
It is either someone or something done...
That comes between them,
And what it is they wish to do.
Rarely is it that those who make attempts,
Have the time to whine or dine to then say to another...
'I know I shouldn't have done that!
I can't afford to gain one more pound.'
People lie to themselves.
And listening to those who complain closely...
They will excuse what they do to repeat what they've done.
And protest about it when they are denied.
To then get upset,
When someone chooses to walk away from them...
And the nonsense they have prioritized,
To use to scuttlebutt!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Into a 'Back-Then-When
Betwixt and between.
And no longer am I bothered by it.
Or teased by that which I can do without.
I feel a peace within as I go about my way.
Betrayals and delays of those promises,
Either I made or anticipated in a waiting...
For them to be fulfilled and given,
Are not on an agenda I keep prioritized.
There is something about acceptance,
I now realize and prize.
I am in the 'now' to live.
Not into a 'back-then-when'...
To be wished!
And 'if' you want to dance with that...
You'll have to find another partner.
Those tunes I don't even hum!
Nor do I keep them remembered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dwindling Supplies
If no one else has made attempts,
To what was perceived was there
And did not replenish it.
No one person alone can restore
That which is gone.
And isn't there anymore.
If it was not prioritized,
With an inventory taken of dwindling supplies
No one should be surprise,
The diminishing of it
Has vanished from all eyes.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
If it was not prioritized,
With an inventory taken of dwindling supplies
No one should be surprise,
The diminishing of it
Has vanished from all eyes.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
If no one else has made attempts,
To what was perceived was there
And did not replenish it.
No one person alone can restore
That which is gone.
And isn't there anymore.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Valued And Precious
To prove one's might,
Does not have to be with weapons.
In fact...
The proving of one's ability to show,
A power that is most effective...
Can be done economically.
To bring people to their knees in agony.
And the use of weapons is done,
To prove to anyone...
An ability to destroy possessions kept,
That are deemed valued and precious!
And lives lived and the quality of them,
Fit as prioritized on that list.
This...
Is NOT rocket science.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Should This Make A Difference
Should it make a difference,
To the one accustomed to looking up...
As to who holds their head down?
To stop with a noticing of it...
Giving time to see what has been lost to be found?
Should it make a difference,
That people around talk 'to' each other...
With no eye contact that exists?
Should this make a difference,
To one who has already experienced this?
Should any of this make a difference,
To one who realizes their movements are not restricted...
On a top ten list of prioritized accomplishments,
Sought to do...
Since...
No one is aware of the persistence it takes,
To resist being disrespected with an accepted disregard.
Should this make a difference,
To one who has chosen to gaze at stars...
With dreams and wishes?
No.
The difference that is,
Has been decided and made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You 'Have' To Notice It
Lets...
Discuss,
Racism.
And how it affects you daily.
'It doesn't.'
Comeon.
You have to notice it?
'I do.'
So...
You are affected.
'No.
I am not.'
Of course you are.
You are obviously black.
A black man.
'And? '
If I were black I would notice that.
Everywhere I would notice it.
Everywhere I went...
It would be on my mind.
In my consciousness.
I'd be full of resentment.
I wouldn't be able to sleep,
Knowing I stood out amongst all people.
I would feel insecure.
Emotionally tormented inside,
With wishes to be white.
I would be...
Are you done?
'Yes.
But I just wanted you to know,
How I would feel...
IF I were a black man.'
Sorry to disappoint you.
Perhaps my commitment,
To having an identity with purpose first...
Has not prioritized my being black.
As much as you have.
Are you hoping one day I will feel inferiror?
'You don't? '
By what or who?
'Those who feel they are better than you.'
I don't fantasize.
But I realize there are many who do.
And I notice them everywhere I go.
You have to notice it too?
'I don't.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Daring to Be Exposed
It must be traumatic...
To realize both influence and status,
Has gradually passed on.
A turned up nose preferred by those of wealth,
And class
Means nothing to a generation more interested,
In one's nakedness, sex and how to obtain fast cash.
These are their real images.
Respect?
Aretha Franklin said it best.
'Find out what it means to me'.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
'Show me some T-L-C!
Tender loving care.
That is all that is needed there.
Anything else...
Is on its way to be tarnished.
With a staining that can not be restored.
Not after it has been purposely ignored.
It must be traumatic...
To realize both influence and status,
Has gradually passed on.
A turned up nose preferred by those of wealth,
And class...
Means nothing to a generation more interested,
In getting their needs met quick and slick.
With a fresh arriving tasty treat.
Whether 'Bi or 'str8' When first meeting on the streets!
And agreeing to feast on that piece of ass!
Upfront and in your face.
Regardless who hears this,
While crossing their paths.
And if that can not be handled in a way that is swift...
They are off to something else that is!
Such as STD's
HIV
AIDS...
And other designer diseases to live with!
Caring less they are reckless.
And daring to be exposed!
'Why do you wear so many clothes?
Show some skin!
Those imagination days,
Have long come to an end!
Live.
Let!
And be quickly buried.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Ones Who Now Look Back
For most of their lives,
They did exactly what they wanted.
And signs of change,
Were beginning to glow...
With neon messages no one could ignore.
Those choices chosen,
Were made regardless of objections raised...
By those who were told where to go.
And those places told where to go,
Have been taken without looking back.
And the ones who now look back,
Wondering where those who were told to go...
Away to live in their own worlds,
Have done so to live lives...
Without taking theirs for granted.
As those who look back seeking satisfaction,
Have come to realize their own satisfactions...
Had been placed on the wrong track.
With a blaming on others,
As to where their lives lived are at.
'Excuse me,
But can you tell me...
If that boat that sailed many years ago from here,
Is due to make a comeback anytime soon? '
~I'm sorry I couldn't.
I don't live in this neighborhood.
Have you tried asking any ot those people over there,
Standing on the corner watching their lives go by?
I'm sure they haven't been anywhere.
You could spend time with them reminiscing.
And they could probably answer that question for you.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These Acts Are Often Quickly Returned
I have never understood,
Why some people would take it upon themselves...
To say or do things with evil intentions to another,
And not perceive whatever is done they do...
Will not come to be done back to them?
And...
With a doing that never ends.
Once their doings have been discovered.
And those who believe others are sensitive,
When in the acceptance of misdeeds done...
That have come to affect their lives,
Should think of their own.
Especially when condoning the temptation to perform,
An approval of blind acts of thoughtlessness!
These acts are often quickly returned.
And with a specific and swift stinging!
'That's it!
No longer will my patience be misinterpreted.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Ball They Choose To Bounce
Although they have been persistent,
With requests to free them from limits.
They wish less restrictions of government,
In their perceived over governed lives.
But yet...
During national disasters they expect,
The government to step in quickly...
To save their dreams from floating down streams.
And a catering to their needs immediately.
They protest with voices raised,
That the government intends to 'socialize' their days.
And a capitalistic system already depleted of feeding greed,
Has agreed to respect and honor their pleas.
But yet...
They become surprised and upset,
When cuts to their entitlements are proposed.
To balance a budget needed to impose.
And those who had advocated this,
Begin to poke out their lips.
When it is learned and discovered,
The first on the list is granting the ones insisting...
For those less restricted wishes.
'Someone, somewhere misquoted our desires.
You see...
Our wishes were for you to cut 'their' entitlements.
To leave the ones we deserve to remain intact.'
And that ball they choose to bounce,
To announce themselves independent...
They want it to be bounced back,
To be debated and determined...
As to when specifically that independence begins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sliding From Their Grasp
The wanton needs of those greedy,
Are no longer being addressed.
They wish to keep prioritized their lush lives...
Now sliding from their grasp.
And they know their hour has passed.
Those weakened by deceit...
Are now experiencing a relief,
That uplifts them.
And those nibbling on the last of their feast...
Can find no allegiance,
To uphold their grievances.
They know their days are over.
Hear them pleading.
Or leaping from towers high...
Trying to fly away,
From their soiled foundations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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