Obstructionists! Unphased
Obstructionists!
Unphased.
Mentally sick...
Delusionists.
With selected memories.
Unphased to do just what they please.
Like water rolling off a duck's back...
They love to hear themselves quack.
Obstructionists!
Unphased.
And mentally sick...
Delusionists.
With selected memories.
Unphased to do just what they please...
And crazed.
With minds like loose bananas,
If front of cameras frailing...
Their weaknesses like misfits!
Demented and ballistic.
With minds like loose bananas,
If front of cameras frailing...
Their weaknesses like misfits!
Demented and ballistic.
Like water rolling off a duck's back...
They love to hear themselves quack.
Obstructionists!
Unphased.
And mentally sick...
Delusionists.
With selected memories.
Unphased to do just what they please...
And crazed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Accompanied by a Wishful Vigor
By the time I was twenty-one years old,
I had served in the military.
Married and had a child.
Even I am amazed my clarity is unphased.
Or crazed by experiences.
That seems like lifetimes ago today.
Since between that time and now,
Those who are much younger than I am...
Are physically and mentally out of shape.
So glad I am I have finished several races.
With an acknowledgement I have made mistakes.
Met truth.
And stay away from delusions.
Doing that was difficult to do.
So many I knew,
Are 'still' undecided...
As to whose life to live.
And which races to enter to begin.
To BEGIN!
Can you imagine?
When I hear some of them mention retirement,
I wonder from what?
How can one retire,
From uninspiring routines?
And to do what next?
A shifting of a butt to remain in a similar scene?
Thank God I chose to specialize in the living of my life.
And not pretend a crawling on my knees done publicly,
Was not embarrassing.
It was.
But the recovery?
Introduced me to a peace of mind and happiness,
I can not replace by faking it.
I have finished several races!
And I was 'thisclose' on giving up on a few.
You know...
Making those easy excuses for myself.
Like many choose to do,
To prove they can successfully procrastinate.
And,
With an embellished zest.
Accompanied by a wishful vigor.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Socially Appropriate And Required Correct Etiquette
I often amaze myself,
How unphased I can become...
By those things done,
That today are acceptable.
When those exact same procedures,
Had been once scrutinized,
As unethical.
And now that the 'unethicalness',
Of what yesterday was not politically correct...
Is in place.
And more of what 'then' was initiated,
Has been updated to be regarded...
As socially appropriate,
And required correct etiquette.
And yes...
B.S. still retains its full implied meaning,
As it applies.
And...
With a bunch of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When People Feed On Their Hypocrisies
With violence marketed in a society that bleeds...
Why are the people,
Questioning evil deeds?
With little toy guns under Christmas trees.
Videos advocating enemies...
Sold at hundreds of dollars to please.
And leaders seeking 'victories'
Where there is clearly none!
Why are the people remaining shocked and stunned?
When the events of the day...
Should have long been ushered away.
With decadence and lowlife,
Praised as a standard lived.
Why are the people...
Disturbed by undisciplined children.
With those protecting them,
From the acts they do and things they did?
Why is ignorance like this,
Dismissed as creations they did not invent?
When addictions presenting...
A condoning done with their consent!
When people feed on their hypocrisies,
And denial of their ways.
Why do they see themselves as sane?
And those who criticize the obvious...
As the ones who speak of lofty gains.
From liberal minds having spines that are weak.
And labelled are they,
To be idealistically crazed!
What medicated intoxication...
Indoctrinated,
Would leave those astounded,
In reactions that amaze?
While a darkness slowly dims sunlight.
To cover eyes already clouded,
By a blightness those blinded appear to invite!
With a sharing of ignorance...
That induces excitement.
As they dress to impress...
To welcome the coming of bleak days,
They await to celebrate in a daze unphased.
'What are they doing? '
Cheering the demise of the Sun!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Emerge, Sustain, Fool, to gain
Emerge, Sustain, Fool, to gain
All for a slip of the tounge, For a peck upon the cheek
Tambourine dust unsettled, Sweet dreams and all that jive
I must love you now and leave you, 'till you learn to push the tides back in your stride
Thank the Goddess, her gift, her gratitude, servivitude to her cause, for a dream to keep you running.
Does the death toll, heavy on your conscious
Does your heart have any say in the matter?
Sentiments echoed down the years,
In succession, each in turn, turning on the child of the latter.
Through fields of maise, a maze of fears, through streams of tears, unphased
We'll keep on running 'till our time is done, Running, shunning those that have been blinded by the light, those who get there kicks beating on the young.
I've been crawling on my knee's so long, so long now, I couldn't give you a definition 'fun'
poem by David Lacey
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He Talk I Am Sick
Yes i am sick because i can not standing on the street call out customer.
Yes i am sick because i can not go to Hotel with any customer after work.
Yes i am sick because i do not from far away come to beg an other men be father for the kid without marriage.
Yes i am sick because i do not going with the man i do never know before go to any where his country to make memories.
Yes i am sick because i do not sell my body.
Yes i am sick because i do not send my nude pictures to any man exchange some things.
Yes i am sick because i am not cheap women
Yes i am sick because i can not sleep with any men.
Yes i am sick because i am have only one Heart.
Yes i am sick because i can not betray without this love.
Yes i am sick because i must to hold on any things insult from the man without reason.
Yes i am sick because i am alway talking the truth.
Yes i am sick because i can not do any things or talk any things when i want to do i want to talk.
Yes i am sick because i am stupid, i am real in Love.
Yes that it is reason i am Sick.
Angel Aki
poem by Ester Worter
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Affirmative Action
I am not upset,
Because they seem to apply quotas...
To my existence.
But the monthly statistics,
And the cameramen in the backyard...
Filming my every move,
Can be overwhelming.
It's not that I am against affirmative action.
It is the way it is done,
That has me believing I 'am' different than everyone.
And watched too closely!
On a daily basis.
And used to remind them of their superiority.
They claim they don't know enough about me.
I guess they are referring to my skin color.
And how that affords me all of the attention I get!
As if that has anything to do with me being so loved?
Envy has a way of producing conflict.
One thing is for sure...
I am not rolling my eyes at the people on beach,
Who already have my skin color.
Nor am I trying to get darker...
To look good or more healthy!
They've been trying to re-create that,
In their laboratories.
Sick are those demented,
Who weave these insecurities...
Sick are those who expose their wickedness,
And sit back to enjoy those of color bleed!
And sick becomes a greatness believed...
That sinks in obscurity!
Left crazed to defend...
An offensiveness felt,
That angers one of a different colored skin!
Or lack thereof.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Doesn't Pay To Deceive
You know what has been made easy,
For many people to do?
Make declarations about others that are not true.
Then to have people convinced about it too.
Without the one chosen and selected to be defamed,
Knowing a thing about who has brought them shame.
Until those who believed that would advantage from this,
Are eventually discovered to become physically limited.
Or mentally sick.
If not witnessed to be suffering from both.
It doesn't pay to deceive,
With beliefs an accomplishment will be received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Friends Drifting Away
One day you might wake up
and find your friends not there
you think they are sick in class
that their minds will reappear.
You Wait days and days
but they never come
They are there physically but not mentally
it's like they're permentally sick
like their life force is gone.
You have to hold onto,
your friends you're sure are the best,
that you Never, Ever will have to test
poem by Kimmy Olson
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The Jealous
The jealous.
Envious of others.
Insecure and bitter too.
Believing picking on someone will do...
To mask their emptiness.
But they wont confess it.
The jealous.
Use patheticness as a charm.
To engage 'and' alarm selected victims.
First choosing ways to nitpick their gifts.
Hoping this annoyance will get to them quick.
And it does the trick.
The jealous aren't happy!
They are mentally sick!
The jealous.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sick of You
I am sick.....I am sick of you......I am sick of this life.....lived it long and good.....but now I am sick of you and the life I lead.....sick and weak.....this life I led.....but not any more......it shall end.....this sickness shall end.....I am sick of you yelling and what you say.....I am sick of this life and all I have done.....if I could go back I might....I remember walking out the front door and saying 'I love you'.......but that was then and this is now.....I have lived it long and good......but I am sick of it......staying awake and wondering 'what did I do'? ......I AM SICK OF YOU AND THIS LIFE I LED.....
poem by Dallas Stevens
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Sick I Am...
i am sick...please don`t be sad...
i am sick...please don`t tell anyone...
i am sick...please forgive me if i hurt you...
i am sick...going so faraway from here...
i am sick...saying this only for you...
i am sick...maybe will never come back...
i am sick...remember me and never forget me...
i am sick...pray for me and wish me all best what you can...
i am sick...all wounds i have inside my heart...
i am sick...please don`t be sad...
i am sick... and you will never see me..
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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Duck! Don't Stick Your Neck Out
How many quacks does a quack quack quack
before he ducks for fish?
How many ducks does a quack quack duck
before his fish is fished?
How many geese's goose is cooked
because they ate up all the fish?
How many cooks cook geese
before their goose is cooked?
How many fowl fall foul
of fowl hunting cooks?
How many fowls' geese are cooked
before they flew from a foul hunting cook?
How many ducks' goose is cooked
because he didn't duck duck duck
when a fowl cook reached for his neck?
poem by David Taylor
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For Those Nonaccepting
What is goin on here?
I have never seen so many people,
Walking around with limps.
Using walkers and canes,
As if to prevent them from falling.
And people with prescriptions,
To lessen their mental afflictions.
And the atmosphere is thick with sadness.
What addictions did they get to have them like this? '
'Lieing about others and to themselves.
With a denying of a reality to confront as is.
As long as they can get anyone,
To approve their delusions...
They are happy with their dysfunctions.
And delight in expressing their illnesses.'
WHY do you insist on remaining negative?
'Oh.
Forgive me.
Is there another version you would like to hear?
I do have one I keep to fantasize my observations,
For those nonaccepting...
With closed minds and blocked ears.'
Yeah.
Please.
Let me hear that one.
Lighten it up a bit.
'Once upon a time,
When the little girls and boys were told...
They could do as they please until they grew old.
And...
What it is they should do as long as they should live,
Is to ignore the truth since truth is wicked.
And running away from it is what they should do
Since a listening to it,
Came from those disgruntled.
You know,
Misfits!
And they should regard people like this,
Noncomformists and weirdos and mentally sick.'
Now 'that' is the version I prefer.
'You are not alone.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Duck and the Kangaroo
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but 'Quack',
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea;
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.
Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!'
Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
'All in the moonlight pale;
'But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
'And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy - O who,
As the Duck and the Kangaroo?
poem by Edward Lear
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A January Fear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
My class is all here
Down to each little sneer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Those cute little creatures
Have nothing to fear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Still knowing that teacher's
not entirely all here
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Each little tear
Makes it perfectly clear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
A day off is coming
And hopefully near
a sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
It's harder and harder
Maintaining my leer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps my behavior's
becoming quite queer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps in the morning
I'll call in and cheer
A SICK DAY A SICK DAY
I GOT A PAIN IN MY EAR
Alas...I can hear my principle sneer
With a resigning smirk easy to hear
NO SICK DAY NO SICK DAY
SORRY MY DEAR
NO SICK DAYS NO SICK DAYS
REMAINING THIS YEAR
poem by Robert John Meehan
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Memories
Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories
Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories
Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories
Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories
Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours
Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too
Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories
poem by Adam McKim
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That's Just Ducky
Passed by a duck
Driving a bright yellow car
I couldn't help but wonder
If she'd make it very far;
She went by perfectly
Never veering left or right
Straight and steady
As if in graceful flight;
Impressed was I
To say the very least, for
I've never known any birds to drive
Not even the great and amazing Canadian geese;
Now, ofcourse I have seen many a fowl
Fly right on by
But never a one
Not up in the clear blue sky;
Manys the time I've witnessed our fine feathered friends
Swiftly moving near and far
But oh no, never
At the wheel of a car;
Some things
A person does see, well
Now they just
Cannot be;
But there it was
Plain as rain
A duck driving a car
In the passing lane!
I grabbed
My cell phone
To get its picture
And call home;
It was then I got a closer look
At the feathered bloke
And came to decide
It all must be some sort of demented joke;
A lunatic's game
My mind was playing
An insane egg
My brain was laying;
For I noticed, as the crazy car passed
'PSYCHO-DUCK' read the license plate on the back...
Right then and there I lost all interest
As I realized, this duck was nothing more than a mere 'quack'.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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So Sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Ricky Baker
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Im sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Malorie Genoff
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Sick of Being Sick
I’m sick of being rejected;
I’m sick of being emotionally neglected;
I’m sick of crying so many tears;
I’m sick of running away from my fears;
I’m sick of my childhood nightmares;
I’m sick of being told to do those stupid dares;
I’m sick of not having friends;
I’m sick of all these dead ends;
I’m sick of myself for what I’ve become;
I’m sick of feeling oh so numb;
I’m sick of watching myself drown;
I’m sick of my heart falling to the ground;
I’m sick of this life;
I’m sick of this everyday strife;
I’m sick of not having a dad;
I’m sick of getting mad;
I’m sick of my childhood past;
I’m sick of being harassed;
I’m sick of the dread;
I’m sick of wanting to be dead;
I’m sick of being the one who’s always so strong;
I’m sick of being somebody that doesn’t belong! !
poem by Shelby Brockway
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