Not a Sight For the Weak
An obsession that has addicted...
With traditions held thick,
With desires and things to aspire and climb...
Higher to obtain those symbolic dreams.
And a dripping of teases to attach and cling...
To a love for toys!
And entertainment needs.
Has descended upon the people...
A reality,
That brings an economy to its knees.
This greed has fed generations,
To depend on things to hoard.
Things to establish a standard lived...
For all to score luxurious rewards,
While those fighting in troubled wars...
Are the ones who should receive,
Such accolades and applause that greets.
Suffer they today from conflicts and sefishness.
Suffer today,
From an evil corruption taught.
Just to obtain a slice that pieces an ego to feel,
Accepted and complete.
A deceiving sought...
That depletes their pockets.
And this conformity to be like one's neighbor...
Has brought entire cities and states to the floor.
Slamming the doors where they labored.
To unite together in a massive state of denial!
Still this has them fantasized and deluded.
A demoralized society once revered now begs.
With hopes to prolong their decadent ways...
To keep!
In stubborn mindsets that dreads,
In fear to cause anguish and weeping.
Even though their pleas will not soon see them retreat,
From the glares they give to the homelessness...
Ignored and left,
Unaddressed as one would do to pests.
And yet,
This leaves a sea of stunned faces...
Bracing together in chilling air.
Standing in lines on streets they abandoned,
Back during the times they fled to flea 'minorities'.
When their eyes would dismiss,
Those helpless and hungry,
Those now prioritized...
To be the first to be served to eat!
And this upsets,
Those who were accustomed...
To sniffing their upturned noses,
As they passed those distressed.
While observing the changes,
Of what has come.
To have sit on their shoulders,
With bitterness to weight on bended backs.
And try hard to hide their pride and tears.
Reminiscing a greed...
With a reality close and now feared.
And much too near to their pretensions.
To express digressions obsessed with love.
Is not a sight for the weak.
They have chosen to standby their values!
And what they valued has them living their lives lived bleak.
With a hope that something recognizable returns...
For an evaluation to be given and kept on their terms.
But the motivating of negotiation days have been fading.
Long before they waited in impatience to debate.
In an openness that lifts voices screaming.
And faces tormented with mental illness...
That is too real, to fake or smother one's heartbreak.
This,
Is in the vision!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In His Eyes! And Ours
Times then were lived,
Within our means.
We valued being clean.
Respected as expected.
This is what everyone did without neglect.
And embraced hygiene!
This was a fact of life known and seen!
Sold on concepts of a desire to learn.
Wanting to comprehend lessons taught...
That broadened our lives with a competitiveness.
With a fear of limits ignorance welcomed.
And we then wished no part of this.
We sought to grow.
And this assisted with an identity dignity presented.
Times then were lived within our means.
To deceive...
Was then thought to be despicable.
To cheat and lie about it,
Did not excite or sit well...
With those who suffered through the consequences,
Of their ways that dismayed.
Today...
People talk the 'walk' but do not walk the talk.
People say they have good intentions.
But leave no evidence of it seen.
Today...
People talk about their standards and values.
As if this is held in an exclusiveness.
And a membership is required for this to be addressed.
Today...
People are obsessed with their possessions.
Their good credit scores and loans they can obtain.
Because they have maintained status given,
Although they keep blemishes hidden...
That may reveal their tainted names.
And they cheat.
Lie.
And deceive!
With lifestyles lived well above their means.
And yet,
When suspected...
Nothing about them is respected.
Nor do the judgements they pass on others...
Keep tax collectors from locking them out,
From foreclosed homes they bragged about.
OR...
Do they 'today' have the means to feed, protect
Or shelter themselves,
In peace.
Times we lived then,
Were lived within our means.
And we were taught to be grateful.
To feel we were blessed.
And we should express this to God.
On a daily basis kept routined!
Like promises we made to ensure we had good hygiene.
And then God...
And only God,
Will make sure our lives lived were lived right!
In His eyes!
And ours.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grinding Slowly
I will never understand...
A mind closed off,
And afraid of challenges.
One that accepts,
And sees life the way it is!
Even though the way it is,
Shouldn't be that way at all.
If a point of view introduced...
Is not what the 'crowd' selects?
Mindsets become trapped.
And a growth becomes stalled.
I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!
I wish I could remove deceptions,
From the eyes and minds of some.
They could influence those they knew...
Of a consciousness,
With a higher awareness that comes to everyone!
They would understand mankind can demand,
An ending to things by taking a stand!
But a conformity that has been fed on greed...
Only breeds on selfishness that is held in one's hand!
I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!
I will never understand...
A mind closed off,
And afraid of challenges.
One that accepts,
And sees life the way it is!
I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!
I wish I could remove deceptions,
From the eyes and minds of some.
They could influence those they knew...
Of a consciousness,
With a higher awareness that comes to everyone!
I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!
Grinding slowly,
To...a...fall!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Portraying Themselves As a Class of Masters
These matters would not exist...
If not discussed,
With such digusted persistence.
To insist that what is not real for some...
Does not undo what has been done,
Or mean others are not dealing with it...
For centuries to overcome.
Some would say homelessness and racism,
Aren't realities lived surrounding them.
And yet there are millions living like this,
In a country they all live in!
And these situations are not just observed,
From tourists eyes...
But also lived by countless others,
Who can not hide as they try to survive.
Poverty and joblessness...
Aren't fantasized conditions,
Just 'minorities' live with!
They happen to dwell in urban cities...
While a 'majority' come into work,
And leave these scenes strapped with taxes...
Taking resources and quick they flee!
Those hustling with fat paychecks,
Want to believe...
They are not restricted,
From an abundance of opportunities!
And as long as they reflect,
A standard of life they respect...
Their visions are not limited,
With constant reminders they are rejected...
By someone else's perspective!
As they live in a 'world'
With images of themselves everywhere displayed.
Providing comforts for those of similar faces...
Portraying themselves as a class of masters.
And shepherding others,
To their accepted places!
As they announce their actions...
Benefits their interests,
To incite destruction and immoral conflicts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Express What It Is In Terms That Pleases
Express what it is in terms that pleases.
Do your best to unleash the truth.
Very little of that,
Has manifested intact!
More are obsessed with deluded impressions.
Created for affect.
To keep a conformity in check!
No one is expecting truth,
To be for them today complex.
Express what it is in terms that pleases.
Do your best to unleash the truth.
Very little of that,
Has manifested intact!
However it is done...
None will embrace it.
And the rawness of reality,
Will certainly stun!
These folks have been fantasized,
All of their lives!
The truth you reveal will not appeal.
In fact,
Be prepared to be 'boo-ed'.
Threatened and despised!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In God's Eyes
'That tattered coat you have worn?
Don't throw it away, ever! Don't think it!
It may become the most valued in all the land! '
Many years ago they had chosen sides.
Those that appeared to have nothing,
Were taunted!
Those who worshipped things...
Of course,
Were not!
They were social darlings.
And accepted brighter than stars!
But the land could not feed,
All of those who kept feeding their greed.
And for generations...
They let the needy bleed!
They laughed at the homeless.
Joked of those who found refuge on the streets.
But the land could not feed,
All of those who kept feeding their greed.
Warnings from those observing,
Were dismissed and at best, ignored!
If fact they were declared to be insane...
And defamed and slandered,
Became for some to do to them as a chore!
And the signs of the times began to creep,
Upon the shores.
And this had never been seen before.
Many became frightened.
Decisions were made to close their doors!
An epidemic soon spread.
And those of suburban dreams...
Found themselves foreclosure whores!
Those with their BA's, MA's and PHd's...
Wide screen TV's and DVD's
Were lining up at pawn shops!
Sneaking to protect pretentions they could not stop!
Those of jewels and gold gems...
Sought to find shelter,
With lost relatives and fake friends!
But wait...
'That tattered coat you have worn?
Don't throw it away, ever! Don't think it!
It may become the most valued in all the land! '
You, the abused...
The downtrodden and counted out!
You, the one ignored and talked about!
You, the slandered and defamed to shame.
You who kept your dignity and identity that remained...
Ultimately wins the prize!
In God's eyes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Existing to Feed the Greed of Thieves
If the eyes of today,
Aren't opened as wide...
As the hole one feels in saddened hearts,
Or emptying pockets
Stripped
Of everything other than one's balled fists.
Those unaware...
And can not feel this,
Are either hopelessly smug.
Or drugged on crack!
People like these are addicted to being deceived.
And do not need to become awakened from their beliefs.
Leave them to be left...
Experiencing a slow painful death enjoyed!
Only a twisted mind will become annoyed,
If attempts are tried!
They are in denial!
They have accepted their lives have been lived well.
And all this time they are doing just fine!
With minds existing...
To feed the greed of thieves.
Choosing to perceive them,
As the ones who have been 'chosen'...
To lead them to abundance and victory!
And absolutely nothing anyone says,
Will close that hole in their hearts.
Or mend that space in their heads!
They are already...
Among the walking dead!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reality Fatalities
Bitter is the truth,
Coming to some to stun.
And in these awakening days now lived...
None of it is partial.
A totalness of it is addressed,
As it relentlessly gives...
Heartbreak and emptiness.
And tempers everywhere,
Are there and flaring.
Truth is not to be dared!
Its affects are bold.
Leaving folks beholding it...
In blank and helpless stares.
Unbridled are horses and other pets.
Showpiece collections...
Being stripped away,
With tears and regrets!
Like the sudden departure of anything,
Or anyone loved...
That leaves behind a grieving,
And much unhappiness that is left.
To feel without an accepting...
Like the ease of a breathing breath.
These reality fatalities,
Meeting a squeezing done.
By a faltering of an economy...
Dwindling from a greed,
Excitedly greeted and once welcomed.
Now gone.
Swept across a land of those who once believed,
Their quality of life was set and sacred.
Untouched but now discovered...
Is a bleeding felt that succeeds.
They can not recover,
From lifestyles lived beyond their means.
When the certainty of truth...
Brings with it a stinging done.
And demeaning with a death,
Of all delusions that have been kept!
These reality fatalities,
Meeting a squeezing done.
By a faltering of an economy...
Dwindling from a greed,
Excitedly greeted and once welcomed.
Like the drifting away of leaves,
From barren trees.
Never to reproduce the joys...
And those temptations that seduced,
A feeding fed that has run out of its 'juice'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I feel like I've been robbed!
We've both made choices.
Not once did I question
Those you made.
I never compared your way of life...
Or whether you lived it right or wrong.
Or to how many charities you gave,
If any.
I did,
However...
Discovered you felt uncomfortable,
That I had felt at ease.
Knowing I had no exorbitant mortgage.
Or neighbors to keep up with to please.
Or that my basic life involved having no car to drive.
I enjoy all types of people.
But I am not one to wine and dine,
Or constantly socialize.
I had admired that about you.
You loved what you did and I did too!
But today,
You seem critical of the life I've made.
The only thing that has changed...
Is my age.
I've never been into 'things'
That could come and go away.
Or try to hold onto pretensions...
To show even though they fade.
What you valued is gone and did not stay.
And why that angers you...
Is between you and your 'beliefs'.
Don't try to hold that against me.
Wasn't it you who once said...
I was delusional and feared reality instead?
Well...
I am living in my 'reality'!
What have you found so upsetting about yours?
Oh...
Was it those things that made it more realistic?
Giving you more of a sense of self worth?
But why is it you feel that way now?
When I still have less 'things' than you!
'I don't have a car or a home anymore.
And last week I was laid off my job!
My 401k is worthless.
And I feel like I've been robbed! '
Gee.
That's too bad.
And all this time,
I've been feeling blessed.
And that's real odd!
Because I don't,
Right now...
Have a penny in my pocket!
And there you are...
Faithless!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Entertained With Ideals to Match
I do understand,
The lost of interest in reality.
And I can sympathize with those,
Who have chosen to manifest...
And let grow their delusions.
Those who have dealt with the reality of things...
Have seemed the most disrespected,
For professing the obvious.
While those deluded,
Have always been detached.
Preferring to be entertained with ideals to match.
The mavericks and the nonconformists,
Have long lived lives referred to as fools.
And few of them seem saddened...
To have been separated with a peace of mind,
For them that soothes.
I do understand,
The lost of interest in reality.
And I can sympathize with those,
Who have chosen to manifest...
And let grow their delusions.
Although I do wish,
They someday will find solutions...
For their mental conflicts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Another Hit For That Fix
When did the living of life,
Become the sole purpose...
To acquire things?
With a desiring that hypnotizes.
When was it that a stress accepted,
To impress others...
Leave such a disappointing affect,
That left our attachments addressed...
More valued than human beings neglected?
And who was it that decided what we possessed,
Would be taxed to never own?
To deluded ourselves and others shown.
As we condone those brave who fought our wars,
On foreign shores...
To needlessly sit hungry and homeless,
Upon city streets and curbs.
As if deserving of it to ease our nerves.
What ignorance qualified itself like this?
To become for us prioritized and not resist.
And to demand with expectations,
A picking of our own choice of entitlements.
With a decision to place insanity,
At the top of our wish list to ensure its existence.
When did the living of life,
Become the sole purpose...
To acquire things?
With a desiring.
That leaves us hypocrites hypnotized.
To feel we have rights to judge and criticize.
And today with a worship of it we can not rid.
Like addicts we pray to get another 'hit' for that 'fix'...
To satisfy that high we get.
With a numbness prescribed and legally authorized,
As we are fed our dysfunctional way of life is envied...
By those we are taught seek to take away our greatness.
And that's why they do their best to fight against us,
As we select which ones are our enemies living on their land.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Crowded With Lies
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
There is no room for truth,
In a mind crowded with lies.
A progressive mindset,
Has been stunted because of this.
Dismissed are those who wish for reality.
And often they are labelled mavericks.
Or something less flattering,
To ensure their influence has no chance to exist.
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
There is no room for truth,
In a mind bombarded and crowded with lies.
And yet those disillusioned,
Pray on Sunday...
To have their lives fixed.
While listening to sermons,
As to how sins and evil have them bewitched.
Their very lives lived are confused in conflicts.
Although truth for many has become feared,
And resisted.
Observed they are...
Bewildered, bothered and betwixted.
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
And there is no room for truth,
In a mind bombarded and crowded with lies.
And the marketing of fresh lies...
Is a mainstay in most societies,
That has thrived and survived successfully!
But a continuation of a success like this,
Does not sustain its permanence.
Eventually a strain draining the brain prevents it.
People everywhere and everyday,
Reflect their lack of consciousness.
And revealing a 'craze' that has become accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Rejection Mode
What rights of mine,
Are they fighting for?
The poor of these wars,
Still remain bitter and sour...
And getting even poorer.
The hungry and the homelessness,
Creeps upon front doors.
And warmongers have made self righteousness...
A vision of risks and accepted conflicts.
What rights of mine...
Defends this fighting all the time?
Everywhere I turn,
My needs are ignored.
Yet to the frontlines is where I'm sent,
To duck bullets on foreign shores.
No matter what I've done...
I'm abhorred! I'm shunned.
And the more I feel I will 'always' be 'me'...
That is used as a weapon,
To add to their growing list of enemies.
And even if I train to fight and defend my place...
I'm despised.
Disrespected.
Often I'm stunned to face a public disgrace.
Bitter doesn't matter when this is about race!
And nothing shown throughout history,
Has proven that fighting works!
As I experience thoughts of what progress can be...
Corruption is exposed to all,
Supported by thieves and endorsed by jerks.
Patriotic I am...
But my needs have become sabbatical.
I'm often regarded a radical.
But I'm not the one...
Fanatically birthed!
There's a dignity I honor,
With a shown self worth.
I have not lost my self respect,
Choosing to abuse my senses...
With displays I regret!
Or endorse building fences.
Those in rejection mode...
Cling and hang onto perks!
Destroying nature and humanity,
By a freedom assisted by threats and alerts.
What rights of mine are 'they' fighting for?
The only rights I see,
Is an elusive peace...
Attached to a fading reality!
That is not my wish that frees!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Remotely Distanced
Discussing reality brings many to a sadness.
So remotely distanced from truth...
A life without delusion pursued,
Is not a life lived.
And many today refused to do it.
Fed on elitest ideals and dreams,
With luxurized lifestyles...
In condos with high walnut wooden beams,
Is how many see their purpose.
Surrounded by materialistic 'things'.
And things without enlightenment,
Is a life lived incomplete and empty.
With a seeking of sympathy...
When things are taken away from them and gone.
As complaints from them placing blame on others...
Goes on and on and on and on!
Discussing reality brings many to a sadness.
So remotely distanced from truth...
A life without delusion pursued,
Is not a life lived.
And many today refused to do it,
Too.
Choosing their own sanity to maim.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Victim Of Learning Too Many Lessons
Why is it that it seems,
You express little empathy...
Towards those who are currently,
Suffering from hunger, homelessness.
And a loss of their dignities.
'I began to express that years ago,
When the sight of it would hurt me so.
And I witnessed those with turned up noses.
Pretending what was exposed,
Had been a dilemma others chose.'
But the circumstances today are quite different.
'How and why? '
Those who suffer,
Have lost their homes and valuables.
And images that impressed,
Others in a lesser position...
They never took time to address.
With their empathies expressed.
'And...
Your point is what?
Their suffering done is more effective?
And my empathy given to them,
Should be more reflective? '
But the circumstances today are quite different.
'How and why? '
These people have never experienced,
A life lived like this before.
'Neither had my ancestors.
But guess what? '
What?
'When my ancestors suffered,
They never discriminated by looking away.
And today you can say...
I am a victim of learning too many lessons.
And when I am shown a negligence,
By them expressed...
What am I to do?
Show them I have not been taught by the best? '
But the circumstances today are quite different.
'How and why?
Are these new lessons I have not recognized?
Have those old lessons been changed,
And are now disguised? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Speculation
The right things done by some...
Does not right things done,
By everyone.
Rituals performed...
May leave a feeling of forlorn,
Adorned by those addicted to agitation.
Especially In situations accepted as an adulation!
'Adulation?
What is there to admire,
In this mental infestation?
This dismiss of motivation...
Should have long expired.
Examined for its faults and left retired!
Many see this as a manifestation!
A certain suffering,
That brings 'closure' to most things.
It's the opposite of expecting blessings and gifts!
To be denied in some eyes...
Brings about a restoration,
And leaves one rejuvenized!
'Like a holding onto a stubborness...
By someone who knows this isn't the best,
Yet sits unresisting
In some kind of personal conquest? '
The right things done by some...
Does not right things done,
By everyone.
Rituals performed...
May leave a feeling of forlorn,
Adorned by those addicted to agitation.
Especially In situations accepted as an adulation!
In speculation this will solve all situations!
And a praise will be bestowed,
Since this disposition is the one they chose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Simple Honesty a rant
The world today is based on lies.
Only sound bites and image count,
you can’t believe your ears or eyes.
The truth is held of small account.
We’re urged to spend more than we earn
for things we do not really need.
The lesson which we all must learn
will in the end be hard indeed.
The bubble simply had to burst.
To lend without security
of all mistakes perhaps the worst.
Destroying credibility
encouraging dishonesty.
The banks must pay the price of greed
reverting back reluctantly
To methods which just might succeed
In staving off complete collapse
of a fragile economy.
Which was by greed allowed to lapse
into chaos financially.
Although I fear it’s much too late
and we must pay the penalty
The time has come to reinstate
The values of simple honesty.
28-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pieces
Pieces of me, pieces of you, consisting of others
Teachers, friends, coaches, mothers, and fathers.
The older we get, the more we see
Pieces of others, that make up today's me.
Little things that we learnt from years past
Little things to which we now hold fast
Ways to do, views to see, ways to live
Ways to love, grow, to learn and to give
So many people, each with a little contribution
Many of whom never have attribution
For the things they gave, the things they taught.
Things that are priceless, cannot be bought.
Some of them will never know
How much they helped others grow
They will never perceive their influence
Neither will they see the difference.
Pieces of you, pieces of me, rubbing off everywhere
A little on her, and a little on him there
Forever changing their lives, for worse or better
Making them weaker, or making them stronger
So many pieces of you and pieces of me
Please, be careful what they be
Wherever you go, whatever you say or do
Guarantee that something will rub off from you
Never underestimate your words and actions effect
You never know just who you might affect.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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From a Time Gone By
Is this surge worse than Viet Nam?
At least back in 1968,
There wasn't so many conflicts going on!
And being a patriotic black young man...
I had returned from the military,
Feeling strong and giving a damn!
I was in the military,
Two weeks after graduating from high school.
Seeking to protect a nation,
Not then realizing...
When I was discharged,
I would be considered a fool!
And I was shown this,
More times than a few!
Especially by those...
Who went on to graduate,
With BA's and MA's and PHd's...
From top notch schools!
And here we are today...
Approaching two thousand and eight!
With our sons and daughters in wars,
They participate.
And I think back then,
How patriotic I had been.
To think I was prepared to give up my life...
So others can have rights,
To denounce me and the color of my skin!
But let me say this...
Not one hint of bitterness,
Within me exist!
Not because of actions,
I consciously did take!
Although it irks me to no end...
To see so many folks make the same mistakes.
As I grow older with the grace I am blessed!
I am so happy
My tattered emotions have been mended.
My inner conflicts have been cured of buried stress.
But I must confess...
The world we live now is in a mess!
Not because of real threats made.
But because of an ignorance accepted and expressed!
People have lost an inner worth it seems.
Gone are visions of fellowship,
To the marketing of schemes and corruption themes!
And the youth of today,
Have one thing on their minds!
How best they can 'get over'...
To obtain 'things'
By committing an assortment of crimes,
They are assisted to define!
As the sacred dollar...
Falls to worthlessness.
I feel my basic needs are those of a relic!
From a time gone by when people just wanted
To 'be' and do their best!
One who seeks peace of mind with quality...
While others seek to feed an endless greed,
From an emptiness that is felt!
Whether or not,
There is conflict and unrest!
And I observe this 'mess'...
Wondering why this humanistic 'slide'
Tumbles into oblivion!
Without more cries of those rejecting this in protest!
And each day that I awaken...
I thank God,
He has put my faith and bravery I have shown...
Through such obstacles and tests of mental strength,
He has produced!
And He and I alone have known!
While others may portray a sympathy...
Just to maintain a materialistic gain.
Without one hint of dignity that remains!
Or none remembered to be sustained!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Everything
The lonliness of nights alone
The search for strength to carry on
My every hope has seemed to die
My eyes had no more tears to cry
Then like the sun shinned from up above
You surrounded me with your endless love
And all the things I couldn't see
Are now so clear to me
CHORUS
You are my everything
Nothing your love won't bring
My life is yours alone
The only love I've ever known
Your spirit pulls me through
When nothing else will do
Every night I pray
On bended knee
That you will always be
My everything
Now all my hopes and all my dreams
Are suddenly reality
You've opened up my heart to feel
A kind of love that's truly real
A guiding light that'll never fade
There's not a thing inlife that I would ever trade
For the love you give it won't let go
I hope you'll always know
Chorus
Oh
You're the breath of life in me
The only one that sets me free
And you have made my soul complete for all time
For all time
Chorus
You are my everything
Nothing your love won't bring
My life is yours alone
The only love I've ever known
Your spirit pulls me through
When nothing else will do
Every night I pray
On bended knee
That you will always be
My everything
song performed by by 98 Degrees from Revelation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stale and Cussed Filled Basements
There are those who had been nourished,
Based upon the looks of 'things'.
And not on quality or valued substance!
Familiar faces of those are compared to others.
Leaving deeds done ignored and undiscovered!
And as time goes by...
So comes with it the fading of 'things'!
An aging brings with it,
A change of outlook and accustomed habits!
And those who chose not to relate to 'this'...
Find the substance in their own lives,
Below an expected standard that exists.
Time does not address...
Who is or who is not,
Prepared for it to shift!
And those they thought they knew,
Go unknown to hide in shadows accepted.
And the saddest part of this revelation?
Most of them are related by blood.
In relationships gifted yet dismissed,
With an absence of kinship understood...
Or shared!
Or the caring of anyone aware of it!
No one seems to be at 'home'...
In their minds or anywhere!
And the few discovered that are?
Have never adventured into the attic.
To explore what maybe a treasure up 'there'!
Preferring to sit rusting with visions dusted...
In stale and cussed filled basements!
Expressing agitation.
And waiting to be rescued from darkened corners.
Insisting what they have chosen has not been welcomed!
With an ignorance applied that had once satisfied!
In denial!
Until sunlight comes with someone who knocks,
To crack open an unlocked door...
To expose them to one with wrinkled skin!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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