Not A One Am I Mad At
With a choosing done of sides,
They elected to attack.
And when they discovered,
The hollowness of their reason...
For action,
Time had past them by...
To bestow upon those aware,
A higher consciousness.
One that left them AND their tactics,
Insignificant, irrelevant, pointless...
And shallow.
Although...
Some like myself,
Found their efforts to be beneficial.
And expeditiously used,
To motivate my own success.
Not a one am I mad at.
You feel me?
Not a one!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Meaningless At Best
What you once valued...
With standards you elected to perfect,
Have found themselves insignificant.
And meaningless at best.
There is a consciousness descending,
Rapidly.
And creating an upheaveling of affects.
Yes they are physical.
Yes they are mental.
And behind these times are going to leave you.
If you are not loosening your grip,
On being set...
In your ways.
What you once valued...
With standards you elected to perfect,
Have found themselves insignificant.
And meaningless at best.
There is a consciousness descending,
Rapidly.
And creating an upheaveling of affects.
To struggle against the cosmicness of it,
Will only produce...
More of your foolishness.
Since this has nothing to do with
The emptiness of ritualistic symbolic routines.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Composition Of An Atmosphere
Is the importance of being aware with a consciousness,
To share with those afraid and scared to death of it...
Beneficial?
These questions and more can be observed and explored,
Just taking a casual walk around one's environment.
What is important to some and not to others,
Can be debated in prolonged arguments.
But what exists and obviously sits as seen...
Many will claim not to notice it at all.
While others seek escapes from it,
To claim to have no interest if not entertained.
Although what effects the entire environment...
The majority will see no connection as it affects,
The composition of an atmosphere and its entirety!
Is the importance of being aware with a consciousness,
To share with those afraid and scared to death of it...
Beneficial?
Well...
That depends on what side of the street,
One has a preference and chooses to walk on.
'Why should I care about what's going on over there?
I'm not getting paid to do it.
And if I do...
I 'may' attempt to get others involved.
That would be my civic duty to then express my concerns.
I am focused on that which is specific and exclusive,
To the enhancement of my own interests.
Which I 'hope' I am making apparent.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In This Honoring to Their Spirits
With each blessed breath taken,
Empowered to motivate my steps.
I ensure my efforts reflect a gratefulness...
For these talents I express.
And proving I've done something with my life,
Besides hunger for material comforts.
To utilize for selfish means.
And leave nothing left behind...
But to feed an ego and a self centeredness,
I digest to unlimited extremes.
With each blessed breath taken,
Empowered to motivate my steps.
I want to show on my path,
A journey made with consciousness.
And a thankfulness to the Supreme Being...
For granting me such gifts,
With the hopes my ancestors are beaming proudly.
And what I have done,
Has brought them much joy and happiness!
As I delight in this honoring to their spirits.
Dedicated:
'In praises to my 'kin' that have moved on! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Go Kiss Bricks
There are people at the door,
Complaining with claims...
You have no reason to ignore them.
Or their efforts to make gains.
'Are they the same people at the door,
Who in the past ignored my interest...
To assist with their efforts,
Long before? '
I'm not sure.
But I 'think' they heard you.
'Why do you say that? '
They left with a taking of a few steps back.
Your character I believe they came to attack.
And then you mentioned activities,
They remembered to be facts.
And with embarrassed looks,
They disappeared and fast.
'Did you recognize anyone? '
You know how quickly people change their masks.
One day they will say they are on your side.
And the next day wont speak as if you should ask.
'Ask what? '
To go kiss bricks before they pass.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Human nature
As the human nature knows no bounds
Many areas of left over area is found
Otherwise who cares for left over and forgotten?
Mother has taken care of lappers and orphans even
When the wind is in favor and honesty at peak
There is nothing more to appreciate or speak
As God has sent you on earth as an emissary
The goal is scored over every adversary
Long live all those who live with holiness
As world has always lived with hollowness
Some may prove to be guiding star
We may have all the satisfaction even they go away very far
I salute their efforts for mankind
We are alive and not gone blind
How do we forget their efforts and dedication?
It is matter of satisfaction with good indication
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Host For Stagnation
I am not one to participate,
In an exchange of pointless narratives...
As to 'why' or 'why not' an action taken was done.
If the action has been done,
That's it.
An act of completion has been witnessed.
There is no need to quibble over an option taken.
Or reasons why that choice was made.
It was made.
It was done!
Debates about it are a waste of time.
Not just for me...
But the ones who elect to use their minds.
And time wasted when one can least afford it...
Is a meaningless act.
To belabor a decision.
And to question one's reasoning!
To critique a depth of meaning.
Of the act itself...
After a choice was offered.
To feed what purpose?
To serve what cause?
Why is that worthy of anyone,
A ponder or a pause?
What is the initiative,
For doing something like this?
Can an ego be that slow to motivate?
To concentrate a participation on that?
Come on.
The process is useless!
Unless one is the host for stagnation?
And those affairs I avoid with determination.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Magnificent and Glorious
We have embarked upon the horizon
Of higher consciousness.
Its affects are disturbing...
As it processes an effectiveness.
Traumatized will be those,
Holding onto scattering beliefs.
A race to deny its presence among us...
Will greet those with defeat.
Since its dominance is complete!
We have embarked upon the horizon
Of higher consciousness.
Nothing will be left as a treasure to collect.
Nothing that has been set in stone...
Will the dawning of this consciousness,
Allow or condone.
Some will feel alone.
Without empathy to comfort.
We are living in the days of amazing changes.
And those with mindsets aged in greed and disrespect,
Think they will profit by their deceiving misdeeds.
But they will be the ones...
Eventually down on their knees.
Pleading to be freed of their mental disease.
We have embarked upon the horizon
Of higher consciousness.
And those able to 'see'...
Have already begun this magnificent,
And glorious internal uplifting journey!
Congratulations...
To those who sustained their faith.
And maintained their patience.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Confrontations
Not into confrontations.
Especially with those
With nothing more than hollowness to share!
I'm on a flight to seek a higher consciousness.
To expand a vision...
Clearly not with
Those who enjoy sitting,
And exchanging twisted affairs...
Solicited and dared!
Not into confrontations.
Or molestations of my thoughts!
I want to comprehend,
More of this life I am blessed to be given.
I've lived with conflicts and emotional misfits...
Who sat around nitpicking in backbiting fits.
And that is not the trip for me I wish!
Not into confrontations.
Especially with those
With nothing more than hollowness to share!
I might participate...
But I am not one to attempt to bait,
For an opinion of someone else...
To induce continued ignorance!
Or become intimidated...
By those who chose to defend,
A limitation that is comfortable for them...
To use and abuse,
As if adrift on a ship with losers!
With choices there but few they choose.
Not into confrontations,
Or boring conversations...
That offer nothing to uplift,
The curiousity of my consciousness.
I want to expand,
And not just in limits am I here to exist!
I'd rather be with those who 'see' this,
And 'get it'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Matter What The Tactics Used
No one can be chased away from their self confidence.
No matter what the tactics used...
To show them to be full of themselves with ego.
One who survives being attacted for their appearance,
And identity...
To then crawl to their feet from being on their knees,
Literally and emotionally...
Those looking will rarely find,
Someone like this...
Hiding behind their discomforts to complain.
And any and all mistreatments are remembered to motivate,
Those achievements shown to be believed...
To those unfamiliar with the sight of accomplishment.
Those with a self confidence,
Are quick to show...
And not embellish from their lips to express.
Aware they are of where to place their footsteps.
No one can be chased away from their self confidence.
People like this are determined to succeed.
No matter where they are to ensure the act is done.
And...
No matter what the tactics used to address,
What they have been taught to learn to do at their best.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tactics Used to Intimidate
Tactics used to intimidate.
Only speeds an exposed failure,
To a fate that awaits.
These weapons rust.
And show their lack of luster.
Activities to keep a hollowness that creeps.
Produces the weaknesses,
Of those with minds bleeding with defeat!
And a lost of empowerment,
To another given but not intended.
Initiating their own demise lamented.
And the sheer uselessness of their shallow deeds.
It does nothing to strengthen or cure as a remedy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Elected (live)
I'm your top prime cut of meat, I'm your choice
I wanna be elected
I'm a yankee doodle dandy in a gold Rolls Royce
I wanna be elected
The kids need a savior, they don't want a fake
I wanna be elected
We're all gonna rock to the rules that I make
I wanna be elected
Elected
Elected
Respected
I wanna be selected
I never lied to you, I've always been cool
I wanna be elected
I have to get the votes, I told you about school
I wanna be elected
Elected
Elected
Hallelujah
I wanna be selected, come on
Ooh yeah
We're gonna rock this place, take the country by storm
I wanna be elected
You and me together, young and strong
I wanna be elected
Elected
Elected
Respected, selected, call collected
I wanna be elected, oh, oh, come on
This time
song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Joke to Some
That joke told and thought funny by some...
No longer brings with it smirks.
Or the half smiles on faces.
A seriousness upon them lurks.
And they wonder...
From where the echoed laughter comes,
Surrounding their startled hearts.
The sound of it frightens.
And unfamiliar to anyone!
Has something once done to undermine...
Discovered it was them all this time?
Finding it a thrill to haunt their minds,
This time.
Someone amongst them has elected to stun!
Someone victimized by their tactics...
And missed with them to have their fun.
And that joke told and thought once funny by some?
Seems to now only satisify just one...
Who masquerades in a vengeance of delight.
Knowing their misdeeds done then...
Keeps them in cold sweats in taunted sleepless nights.
Fearing 'what' or 'who' has found whatever they did offensive.
They have forgotten which joke had been told.
And which 'fool' they picked...
They believed then had been defenseless!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Testing From a Nest Infested
To ignore those who annoy,
Is a blessing.
A gift to resist the desires of those
Wishing conflict.
Gives a peace within.
And this will never be understood...
By those doing their best,
To attract others to their nonsense.
As they seek a confrontation,
Spiced with agitation.
Testing from a nest infested...
As a pest unrested.
And being aware of this,
Provides a mental lift.
Delivering one to a higher consciousness!
The one who views those who do this as misfits.
As tactics employed by a sleepless surface thinker,
Become useless like a broken toy discarded.
Fading its purpose,
To an ego enjoying limitations that do not nourish!
Or flourish beyond an irritation that has no affect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Samsher (Sword)
Samsher is another name for sword
Sharp edged weapons but not mightier than words
Old kings and chieftains used along with war lords
Protective arm length weapon carried by soldiers on board
Whoever had weapons carried the field
Surrendered all kings and great influence yield
Such was weapon and matter of great pride
Always visible on waist and can’t hide
Easy to defend and easy to maneuver
Straight into action without finding cover
Body art and activeness always had upper hand
Some times enemies turned tactics and became friends
Only one sword became famous in entire world history
Tipu (name) Sultan (ruler) had shining past with glory
Not only British but French too had to make the way
His sword ruled the land and complete sway
Anybody may question what specialty the weapon had?
It was given to him by another sultan Hyder Ali as dad
The legend reveled it had magic touch given by goddess
He was benevolent ruler and had always shining success
Luck may not favour all the time to come
Tipu too had feared and ready to welcome
Waged heroic struggle with all his efforts
No help could reach him through his ports
He had his downfall and was beheaded
All rulers did not unite and territory conceded
It was lone freedom struggle for unity preservation
Nothing could be achieved even with prevention
His sword was taken away and kept in museum
All efforts to bring it back failed and kept mum
Alas! Efforts of one wealthy and businessman restored
Sword is back home with its past glory and adored
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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With A Finding Discovered
I doubt very seriously if my strides taken...
To want to motivate others to desire success,
Had been made more for them a priority...
Instead of something they did to see me pleased,
Or whatever that is done people do to appease...
Would I have adopted an inspiration,
To dropp them as my main activity.
With an applying all my focus done now,
As I do...
Upon doing my best.
To achieve without further wasting my time.
With a finding discovered,
Others only choose to make for themselves...
Excuses to accomplish as if to me to be defiant.
Nonsense embraced is inescapable these days.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Feel Fantastic
I feel fantastic!
How long will that last?
Until...
Well,
That I don't.
But I wont spend time,
To question or ask!
Or figure that out...
As you 'scout' about!
So don't waste yours,
Wondering in comparison.
There is nothing to compare.
Just remember this:
Stop before you start.
There will be no broken heart left here.
For you to drop...
To name as another victim tamed.
Or claimed you have trained,
To produce your wishes.
I said I feel fantastic.
Not stupid.
I didn't get to feel this way...
Without recognizing past mistakes.
To allow shallow flattery,
Consume a nonexistent ego!
Do you believe I am blind?
I have long left that kind of stupidness,
Far behind.
And that took some time...
To 'see' in my mind,
The teases you present.
Desperation...
Does not sit with me here,
In anticipation!
The only thing I'm giving up to you,
Is much gratitude!
I have found the strength...
To keep temptation you represent,
At a distance!
You have no idea,
How fantastic it is,
To know and hear...
That admitted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nothing Left To Do To Be Done
No one voices their opinion,
Until an escalation of an ending begins.
And they make a collective noise then,
As if what is said should make sense and is heard.
Yet,
Disorderly conduct is all that is observed.
And those who came to warn them of misgivings...
Leave this scene without a mumbling word.
There is nothing left to say.
Nothing left to do to be done...
In a way that stayed obeyed!
So they lower their heads and pray.
Choosing to take their peace of mind,
And walk away while there is still time.
Some folks use their trivialities...
As if these are what is wished to find,
As a gold mine.
A self reflection had not visited their minds.
And that is the discovery of this sadness,
Had and has reached its full!
They choose to leave behind.
A higher consciousness to those promised...
Has been witnessed from them to be dismissed.
And ruined 'gifts' are left to sit,
And shared in disrespect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Will
Distrust hurts a lot
A battle is lost without being fought
You have misapprehension all around
Not suitable way is searched and found
Trust is most important aspect
We all must think sincerely and respect
It is secret door to introspect
Then find opportune time to act
It may prove sometimes blessings in disguise
You are in position to deliver good with promise
New sun is on horizon and shining
All days a re bright and well defining
Self assertion is most unique feature
Person should be aware of it and very sure
That can take you to the extreme end and assure
Nothing can go wrong and all sides fully secured
You did ask about joint efforts
I too fell for the ideas for good rapport
Who may not want ship to anchor at port?
Shunt the negative thoughts from mind and deport
As good combination in life and enterprise
We have lot more to gain and less to miss
We can show that success can wait at the gate
Nothing can be termed as early or late
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Landscapes
The ridges either side of the valley
were covered in dark pine forest.
The ploughed hill sides were red,
and the pastures were very green.
Constable’s landscape entitled “Weymouth”
is always in my mind at such times;
my memory of this small part of the
National Gallery surprises even me,
and maybe only I know how inevitable it all is.
The horsemen are riding through the forest
and at dusk they will halt on its edge
and then, after checking their instructions, ride carefully
down into the valley – delicately picking their way
through the small wood and fording the shallow river.
From then on it is not very far
to their destination. We both know this.
Somehow the action has at last gone beyond
the painting and this is for real.
But there can be no self-flattery on this account
– it has all been decided for us.
The illusions of freedom are at last
shown to be so obviously ridiculous that
most people cry at this point.
What it left is a canvas and paints
and a little time for distraction before the event.
It is not so much a justification – but saying
“Goodbye” now appears irrelevant.
All the lists and secret worlds have now been
exposed – there is little left to say.
“I did care, and the love I claimed
was and still is the miracle that continues
to astonish me. I love you.
It is only that death has forced
me into obeying its commands.
I am powerless and in its power.”
And that’s a personal statement and as true
I and honest as I can force the words to be.
The saddles creak and it’s almost dusk.
It doesn’t really matter whether this is
the real or a symbol – the end’s the same.
poem by Lee Harwood
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Krampa
Osagyfo Dr.Kwame Nkrumah,
Otumfuo Opoku Ware,
And the great ones of past memories;
What can we do to ensure success?
Than learning from our past efforts to lead us somewhere,
But many are the obstacles along the path towards success.
Krampa my love, the time has come for you and to grow up;
And let us think before we leap on this love.
You are my one and only,
You the one who knows my love and problems,
So come and take me to the land of dreams!
For i want ot be very successful in life like,
The great ones gone by.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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