Nothing Is More Bitter
Nothing is more bitter,
Than the taste of one's actions regretted.
Even though a forgiveness may be expressed,
By those whose lives had been affected.
There is nothing like the guilt,
An unconscious mind awakened...
Finds!
And discovers,
It is not an easy task to shake or break away,
From what has been advocated...
And harsely displayed in those misdeeds done,
From one's past.
Upon someone undeserving.
Especially when God selects,
The appropriate punishment!
It seems as though He is not totally,
Forgetful.
Even 'if' one has found a 'rebirth'
In the singing of His praises.
There still will be lessons...
He wishes to insure are completely learned.
And meets the approval of those mistreated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Exhausting Promises Meant to Keep
Is there anyone who lives,
Without expressing some regret?
Something done one wishes to forget?
Perhaps making a remark,
That was left to spark an animosity.
One even forgiveness given,
The mind can not leave alone.
Or remove completely,
From our doorsteps.
To find us inside comforted in total rest.
Is there anyone who lives,
Without expressing some remorse?
A wish a decision made had taken another course?
Like a marriage that ends in divorce?
Or a relationship desired...
That has not replaced,
The emotional investment paid for the cost...
Of a loss reviewed as time spent and wasted.
And memories kept have a way of replaying,
Every detail of each moment embossed with highlights!
Exhausting promises meant to keep,
To be freed of indecision.
When someone else one meets,
Finds us against our wishes...
As the repeating of the same steps,
Creep to leak unresolved issues.
Saying once again...
To a valued peace of mind.
That if that 'next' time should come...
We...
By then,
Will have overcomed and corrected an oversight!
Yet...
Another flaw neglected,
Has a way of surfacing.
To be heard from departing lips...
In daydreams wished to once lick with kisses,
Now sickens with the thought of it!
Again,
Where should these lessons learned,
Be kept to stay fresh in our minds?
Or should one desiring to dance with romance...
Again,
Just sit and observe?
And not rush to be partnered.
Again!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exceptions To The Forgiveness Rule
I am the first to admit,
That a forgiveness given...
Should not be a consideration,
With a solicitation that escalates in debate.
We all make mistakes...
And care enough to correct those made.
At least the effort proves this to be true!
However...
Those anticipating things done that they do,
Should automatically be granted a stay of execution...
Puts others through what it is they do,
As if an approval of understanding of their misdeeds...
Are exceptions to the forgiveness rule!
And this creates a repetition,
Of those same conflicts initiated.
Without a sign of any lessons learned,
That establishes a sustaining confidence
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How We Learned Our Lessons
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.
And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!
They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.
'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
Our Parents.
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Found God
If a forgiveness has been given,
To those who had perpetrated misdeeds...
Until after years they are awakened to receive,
An unexpected epiphany.
What makes them assume to believe,
Those inflicted intentionally...
Would mysteriously have their wounds,
Disappear from their memories?
'I found God.'
That's ironic.
I discovered The Savior too.
However...
Are you here to try to attempt me to accept,
That my pain and your guilt felt...
Have become easier for you to forget,
With no regrets?
Or are you hoping your ability to quote,
From scriptures...
Paints upon you a different face.
And the old one I don't remember?
With an erasing it to be replaced.
'But I have found God.'
Don't become offended if I suggest,
The next step you should make...
Is to find a good plastic surgeon.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tip For The Day
Somewhere in your conversation,
You have forgetten to mention...
It was you who took my attention,
And walked out on me!
You weren't around,
To see how low I had gotten.
Or what it took for my slow recovery!
Struggles to maintain my dignity and faith,
Brought demonic smiles upon some faces.
You provided liberties to humiliate and disgrace me.
And I asked God to forgive you and my thoughts.
As well as the hatred within me I could not shake.
Or seem to chase.
While I faked and masqueraded my heartache!
So by chance today we meet!
And I greet you with self-assuredness,
Proudly standing on my feet.
You appear to me to be weakened...
And abused by a defeat!
You feel that I am thoughtless,
Self-centered and full of my own conceit?
Those 'niceities' expressed,
Do not feed my appetite!
I would not say I am thoughtless at all!
For several years I've given you much thought!
I remember your tantrums and attitudes.
And the misery you brought!
And then one day,
You and they were released completely.
And every lesson I have learned,
You have taught!
I would say you had been quite the teacher for me.
Leaving me something I had not sought!
Self-centered?
I can never be that way.
My wishes, wants and needs...
Have released you from my dreams once displayed.
In days now gone!
Whatever the desire is that keeps you fantasizing...
Don't let them hurt you,
Or desert you in promises unkept...
Or distanced from being ever fulfilled.
If you have to become bitter to overcome disappointment?
Do whatever it takes to get your emotions completely healed.
That's my 'Tip For The Day' as a motto for my life.
Feel free to use it!
Now go away!
My happiness is being irritated!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wasting It On Wishes
Never again will I view my disappointments as man made.
I use to believe my wishes had to meet someone's approval.
Before I could express my happiness.
Now it is so clear...
My happiness has to be expressed.
Whatever the outcome and throughout the process.
How can I rely on someone giving to me,
What inside of me I am not feeding?
Or digesting as that which belongs.
I want what I deserve served to stay.
I've learned to nibble each spice of life I like.
It prolongs the taste.
And wasting it on wishes for someone else...
To define,
Was an awakening I found...
Left me impatiently waiting.
With preferences.
Picked and selected.
For me?
And I had my own menu right in my hands.
All of it prepared to my specifications....
If I noticed?
Finally,
In time I did.
Once I maintained my focus.
And relied on choices I made.
Whether some pleased or not.
And if something I was to eat,
Came to meet my satisfaction...
Indecisiveness of doubts,
Would have to dropp and be stopped.
And finally...
In time,
'They' did!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without A Reception Of Approval
At the end of each day,
This is certain...
Nothing that has been lived,
In a past that has been witnessed...
Will ever be experienced again.
By anyone.
Regardless who feels surpressed,
Oppressed.
Deceived or mistreated.
Only in the time we are living that is given,
Can any of us decide...
How deep we are going to breathe.
And 'if' anyone has to debate about that...
Perhaps life itself,
Is not a conscious 'thing' one does...
Without a reception of approval.
Or an acceptation one wishes to claim.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Slow To Learn Their Lessons
So many years have passed.
And so many have lived their lives,
Being led down the wrong paths...
To one day discover,
As if the clouds have been removed...
From clearing eyes and minds,
To realize those tasks and evil misdeeds...
Done to others in times left behind,
Should have never by them...
The focus of their attention given.
But...
It was.
And those who had been picked,
For those misdeeds done determined...
To have been fit and appropriate,
Might have also awakened with a change of mind.
Perhaps for them they were willing once 'then' to forgive,
But today they may be more convinced...
That those slow to learn their lessons as quick,
Are deserving of repeated teachings...
Until such doing has become satisfying to please.
And those messages they attempted to deliver,
Are guaranteed to have been received.
'I don't understand why I am the one,
Treated in such an offensive manner.'
~Don't worry about it.
You're not the only one who suffers,
From a selective memory.
All you have to do is connect the dots.
What have you done,
That you wish had been forgotten? ~
'I don't remember.'
~Apparently someone you afflicted does.
And has chosen this moment to test.
Until your mind connects.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only To Nibble A Bit To Then Spit
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
People get use to the familiar.
Although prior to it,
They had settled for the bland.
Until a spicing done to that blandness,
Made more of the spice...
Requested by demand.
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
A rejection of what had been once presented,
Now is refused as mediocrity.
And a closer inspection becomes harsely critiqued.
Critics come out of the woodwork,
To exclaim their findings weak.
And those who plagiarize,
Take credit for their additions done.
But the one who sweats with an innovation...
Never receives a just due that comes!
It is not easy to deliver,
A betterment of one's best.
It becomes expected,
When a taste is created...
And that taste another accepts.
Only to nibble a bit to then spit,
That's it!
As if what is tasted is nothing but garbage.
Especially if a taste of it reminds one of the rest,
That has already bettered the betterment of one's best!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Ones Who Dare to Face Deceit
Those who 'snitch' and/or whistleblow,
And represent uncommon correctness...
Rarely today ever shown,
Are resented.
And this for them is felt and known.
This is not a new revelation expressed!
This has been a way of life,
For those who have ever spoken out...
In an unsolicited truthfulness.
The ones who dare to face deceit,
Are character assassinated...
By those above reproach.
Who take it upon themselves,
To ensure others meet defeat!
But those eventually inflicting those affected,
Finally are the ones 'used' to become victims too!
When the misdeeds they do to others,
Come to cripple their activities...
In ways displayed the Creator chooses!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Had Bigger Plans
I had bigger plans
Life sure forgot
And money and money and money
Just kept holding me down.
In my own mind
Wrestling
With that which lie beyond me
And never found
Sweeter taste
In time's fleeting moment past.
The bitter berries
Of berry's bitter taste.
Made more real by the moment
I had found it here.
poem by Denis Kucharski
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Maybe In A Past Life
Maybe in a past life I was your foe
your actions towards me make me think so.
Maybe I abandoned you and left you for dead
in this life I make it up to you instead.
Maybe I was sickly and couldn't care for you
I had to give you away which made you blue.
Lessons for the soul to learn
learning forgiveness, patience and to discern.
So there is more going on than meets the eye
you never know what really happened until you die.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 26,2012
www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Today I Do Not Stand Alone
Please,
I need no praises of platitudes from you.
I am just a basic man...
Encouraged by a mission,
That enforces me to take a stand.
And those who know my feelings are deep,
Have encouraged me to be the man I am.
I have never found my path taken,
Cleared free of debris.
I've witnessed obstacles laying upon it...
I thought impossible to free.
I am not stranger to heartache.
Or those emotions that have gone out of my control.
I've been approached by folks,
Who didn't know me at all...
But felt it okay to test me and provoke.
With faith I rid myself of doubts.
And today I am in constant prayer.
I know the truth about what love is!
And blessed I am to have those in my life...
Who are quick with me with theirs to share.
Please,
I need no praises of platitudes from you.
I am just a basic man...
Encouraged by a mission,
That enforces me to take a stand.
And those who know my feelings are deep
Have encouraged me to be the man I am.
I need no praises or platitudes,
To do what it is I am expected to do.
And if I was seeking an easy way out,
I'd be silent like the others...
With not a word you would hear,
Expressed publicly to come out of my mouth.
And on those stages I am glad to say,
Today I do not stand alone!
I am not a seeker to make speeches.
With an eye for open debate!
I desire to teach to leave lessons learned,
Some I hope are understood...
With a comprehension sacrifices have been made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Civil Disobedience!
The majority of them have lived their lives,
In an isolated racist bubble.
Now that their comfort has been marked by troubles...
They seek a bailout from their mindless gains.
With wishes their selfishness did not exist.
Or had not been obvious to others,
Who had witnessed this!
While a greed was fed to exploit those in need.
Those who now seem much better off.
Since they have less blood to bleed...
Than those who lived totally on their good credit.
And loans the economy...
Can no longer assist them in their leeching to feed.
And their misdeeds and deceit...
Now chases them in fear!
With no escape from this beast!
While they swarm the streets...
In civil disobedience!
Treating them with a taste of defeat!
Completely out of their minds...
Come the times for those of selfishness!
Protesting that their interests,
Has left them in duress!
With no fingers to point.
As they are kept close to their own chests!
In attempts to keep themselves...
From losing their precious breath!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Psalm 32
Forgiveness of sins upon confession.
O Blessed souls are they
Whose sins are covered o'er!
Divinely blest, to whom the Lord
Imputes their guilt no more.
They mourn their follies past,
And keep their hearts with care;
Their lips and lives, without deceit,
Shall prove their faith sincere.
While I concealed my guilt,
I felt the fest'ring wound;
Till I confessed my sins to thee,
And ready pardon found.
Let sinners learn to pray,
Let saints keep near the throne;
Our help, in times of deep distress,
Is found in God alone.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Surreptitious Acts Done In Cloaked Mystery
Those satisfied factitious factions,
Duped producers of hoodwinked actions.
Have come to see their misdeeds diminish.
With revelations the masses now see had menaced...
Standards,
And values...
Of grandiose lifestyles,
Finished.
Those who birthed an unearthing wickedness,
Exposing the depth of their clandestine mental illness.
Surreptitious acts done in cloaked mystery to deceive.
Now finds them pressured under surveillance,
Demanded...
By appointed no nonsense,
Awakened authorities.
And squeezing them into oblivion.
To sit in prisons behind bars locked.
As confessions nonstop,
Spill unblocked with forgiveness pleas.
And witnessed from their quivering lips...
In a public disgracing humiliation received,
To be believed.
These liars now the feast of truth!
And consumed by their travesties.
To bleed and in isolated grief,
Wail!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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May Initially Hurt From The Dirt Dispersed
Once a mistreatment
Of trust has been discovered done
That's it!
All the drama in the world displayed
Is not going to restore one's faith
In that which has been mentally used to abuse
Apologies given with the asking of forgiveness
Is something one wishes when caught
That's it!
And that's all that that is
Like a roach stunned when caught
By the instant glaring of unexpected light
Apologies snapped together quickly
Rarely can be associated with sincerity
Apologies snapped together quickly
Is a quick way to remove one's burden
From a feeling of guilt
What else can it be?
An invitation to have icecream and cookies?
This is doubtful
Suspicious feelings felt
Don't overnight fade away
In fact
One's decision to sever all ties
From someone like this that lies
May initially hurt from the dirt dispersed
But, The benefit of having peace of mind
Is worth any looks from deceivers
One's willingness to be empathetic may get
And the getting rid of headaches
The moment they appear
Is therapeutic
There is nothing like submitting totally to truth
With the letting of the rest of that nonsense go
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Being Human Business
From squalor and trash,
A rising is witnessed.
Forgiveness is wished,
But a pain condoned...
Has been felt alone although unshown.
A mind conflicted frees from its limits.
Breaks to escape to initiate a taste of heartache.
And a choice is made to unleash and invade...
With a loosening of a harnessed and harbored feeling.
Sitting with an itch that can not be dismissed.
Sitting between a forgetting with forgiveness.
And a demeaning remembered intentionally inflicted.
What should one do...
When a gratefulness of blessings expressed,
Has also spoiled too?
Hmmm...
This being human business isn't easy.
Especially when an unwanted suffering has been endured.
'Shouldn't that be...
This 'human being' business? '
I got up early this morning,
So I would not have to listen to you.
Now go back to sleep.
These thoughts I'm having,
Are not subconscious, thank you.
'You are right!
This being 'human' business isn't easy!
At all.'
Whatever.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Praises For This Day You Witness
Give praises for this day you witness,
In gratitude for those blessings...
That have come to you.
Why hesitate to await permission?
Why do that,
After all you've been through.
Yesterday with delays and impatience...
Has gone and should be erased.
No need to redo or relive a past,
For you that has dues paid at last.
Give praises for this day you witness,
In gratitude for those blessings...
That have come to you.
Who more than you deserves these gifts?
To do as you choose...
As God wishes you to do.
With faith and hope and sacrifice,
You have succeeded to achieve a peace.
It is yours to keep,
And know this is true!
Be thankful.
Give praises.
Know that God loves you!
Do not feel guilt or a selfishness.
This God for you has done.
He has chosen you to bless!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Can't Answer That
Is a return to appreciate someone,
Just too late?
When one discovers,
A position taken of a situation faked...
Had been by another instigated to irritate.
Is it too late when one waits too long,
To express to another an appreciation?
And that time has gone?
What if an attempt was made,
To right a wrong that had been done.
And someone had been accused and blamed,
To discredit and defame.
Should a forgiveness be given?
When an admission of guilt has been finally admitted.
Or should a door that had been open be permanently locked.
Since all feelings of the situation has in the mind been stopped.
'Is that a question asked and said off the top of your head?
Or is this a feeling expressed from your heart instead? '
I can't answer that.
I wont allow my emotions to be played or reminisced.
'So...
You speak of this hypothetically? '
Are you going to answer the question?
'What are your expectations? '
I don't have them anymore.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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