One Lives Never To Forget
Upset?
By a bit of tart tongue,
From a street wisened dialect.
One can spit out,
Without thought of it!
Distinguished by features of vocabulary...
Unsuspecting to come from one,
With a degree of intellect perceived.
Well...
Believe it or not,
A heating lived between bricks...
And years spent baking in a project tenement,
Should not amaze.
Or...
How the affects of aging with memories,
Can deliver a quickened awakening,
To the depths of a reality that has been brewed...
By such an experience one lives never to forget,
With such a vivid consciousness of it!
'At times your mind represents,
The best of suburbia.'
~Don't let my adventured life,
Masquerade 'your' trips.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Whatever It May Be that Affects
What,
Ever it may be that affects...
You have it in yourself,
To disconnect it.
Whatever it may be that affects,
You have it in yourself...
To disconnect it.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
A loneliness you wish to rid!
Whatever it may be that affects.
Emotions breeding to feed on fears!
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Heartbreak that can not escape the aching.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
You gave to it now from you erase it!
Whatever it may be that affects,
You have it in yourself...
To disconnect it.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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His vocabulary
her vocabulary
every word fits into its space
like a classroom
her vocabulary
each word carries its own weight
as it files into my mind
her vocabulary
notes of the morning birds
that strain to sing
her vocabulary
my mind polished
like silver
her vocabulary
the calisthenics of her mind
in my mind
her vocabulary
the precision of her mind
etched onto my heart
her vocabulary
sublime as a glass of
evening whisky
her vocabulary
strikes like
glitters of diamonds
his vocabulary
my brain has no space
to breathe
his vocabulary
every piece of writing
has become a thesis
his vocabulary
he asks to take him
as he is
his vocabulary
she feels he is not true
to his own feelings
his vocabulary
she asks it is weaned from
dictionary or experience
his vocabulary
she asks he is out to impress
or express
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Truths Dismissed
Chasing impossibilities.
Like a change to redo,
And replace yesterdays' activities.
Has come to be embraced,
By those retrieving memories...
With hopes to see them,
'Specifically' retraced...
To have the times from them now lived,
Erased!
Chasing impossibilities,
Are those in grief with disbelief...
Each moment existing,
Had approval as they witnessed...
The unfolding of reality.
And it is the reality many wish to change.
Many can not accept,
Expressions of indifference...
Delivers consequences.
No matter what is claimed.
That which is observed,
And passes an acceptance by silent lips...
Is not going to suddenly vanish,
Because some find a tolerance...
Over a time that has allowed its growth,
People then indifferent...
Now whine it upsets and makes them sick.
Chasing impossibilities.
Like a change to redo,
And replace yesterdays' activities.
Has come to be embraced,
By those retrieving memories...
With hopes to see them,
'Specifically' retraced...
To have the times from them now lived,
Erased!
Goodluck to those now awakening,
To truths dismissed.
And finding themselves upset by this.
Wanting answers to questions...
And more time to reminisce,
Those times gone never again for them to exist.
Goodluck to those now awakening,
To truths dismissed.
And finding themselves upset by this.
Wanting answers to questions...
And more time to reminisce,
Those times gone never again for them to exist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Memories of mother
Mothers Day always trips sadness
in me since her death years ago;
impelling a circuitous
journey of memories that flow
within a stream of consciousness
always the same, unabated.
It's queer how an act of congress
can regress a mind effected
in such a way as to cause tears.
I guess stranger things have happened
and will happen over the years.
Though measured in nanoseconds
these yearly memories of her
are all that remains of mother.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Now Here So Vivid
Here so vivid,
Is the experience of life given.
So vivid too are those disparities.
To allow others,
The giving of an invitation...
To come and do,
Then to go as they please.
How vivid are the actions,
On others performed.
To take what they thieve...
And upon themselves adorn.
Enriching with an enhancement,
From the day they were born.
Here so vivid,
Are atrocities.
So atrocious in implementation...
An acceptance of it,
To gather lives to ruin...
As if in a playing of monopoly.
And the game inflicted does not go away.
It stays and commands to become obeyed.
With restrictions that exist,
Using religious beliefs...
As a means to control,
In the spreading of a wickedness...
To maim and defeat,
Those depicted as enemies.
Here so vivid,
Is the experience of life given.
So vivid too are those disparities.
To allow others,
The giving of an invitation...
To come and do,
Then to go as they please.
Using deception to promote misdeeds.
To witness those doing this...
Eventually,
Unravel from their own intricate...
Strategic complexities.
Now here so vivid,
Are those so unwise.
So vivid with a clarity...
Are those removed from their disguises.
To become recognized and themselves despised.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Once Tied To A Rush Of Confusion
An awakening occurs,
That establishes...
For the one witnessing it.
A freedom to express a consciousness.
That releases a mind,
Once tied to a rush of confusion...
One accepted as part of a life one gets.
And when this awakening does occur,
From an unrested peacelessness...
Tested by others not yet awakened.
There is a sense of quality of life that comes.
One begins to realize and connect...
To every experience one has endured.
And all of them collectively one's footsteps have met.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cutting Edge
As long as my work is edited...
To ensure by those who censor,
I say nothing to offend anyone...
They may believe is totally oblivious,
To a reality that affects...
Their pretentiously kept delusions,
They will meet and decide by voting...
If my written submissions as described,
Should be considerd...
Cutting edge!
And that determines...
Who amongst them have actually,
Spent anytime outside and beyond...
Their own comfort zones.
Many do not travel too far,
To ensure an innocence represented..
Thrives to keep some minds stunted.
Even though the majority of the people,
Have long been forced to do so...
With an eviction from these zones,
For most of their lives.
And find that a censorship...
Athough at these times lived ridiculous,
Should be applied to an acceptance...
Of a decadence that is marketed successfully!
But, of course...
That is a reflection of their lives as lived,
Valued as standards they publicly deny.
Yes it is hypocritical...
However,
It is what it is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Our Lives
If we all just sat and wished,
For everything we believed missed
In our lives.
Much of our lives would be dismissed.
Without realizing...
So much of the experience of it,
Has been spent wishing.
With little of it adventured.
And hoping for more time,
To waste in waiting.
As a hesitation in procrastination,
Is granted a freedom we allow and protect...
With the very best of our excuses.
In our lives...
We thrive on comparisons to survive.
To be munched,
Like a bunch of clustered nuts!
Dipped.
And surrounded by delicious chocolate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Legend Fable
centuries-old stand carved stone tablets
hundreds of tsunami warning stone markers
fabled tsunami waves devouring land lives
devastation legendary loss dwarfs memories
scale wave force shadow outruns warnings
witness awareness realities lost in three generations
generation enduring disaster becomes aged survivors
experience memory disaster to their children passes
experience more distant to their grandchildren passes
three generations fades forgotten from living memories
experience reality legend myth fable forget
three generations till people warnings forget
community crucial knowledge people forget
busy with lives love jobs experiences people forget
all except wise souls tsunami warnings heeding forget
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Suburbia
Lost in the high street, where the dogs run
Roaming suburban boys
Mothers got a hairdo to be done
She says theyre too old for toys
Stood by the bus stop with a felt pen
In this suburban hell
And in the distance a police car
To break the suburban spell
Lets take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
Break the window by the town hall
Listen, the siren screams
There in the distance, like a roll call
Of all the suburban dreams
Lets take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
Its on the front page of the papers
This is their hour of need
Wheres a policeman when you need one
To blame the colour tv?
Lets take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
Take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
Run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide
In suburbia
In suburbia
In suburbia
In suburbia
In suburbia
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Martha and The Vandellas
'Lover...
You've gone from me
And left behind,
So many memories.'
Here is Martha and The Vandellas,
Singing
Complex and yet simplistic harmonies,
As I reminisce.
And this song I can't forget,
'Come and Get These Memories'
Says how I feel!
I wish you could come and get these memories!
I wish there was a chance,
We could hold and dance like that again!
In the Summer breeze and on the blocked street
Dripping sweat from quick steps done!
But the love we had was like 'Quicksand'.
And in it we were sinking deeper!
'Wild One'
'Heat Wave'
And 'Dancing In the Street'
Recalls those times in our lives well reflected,
With Motown beats...
And the 60's!
'Soooo...
Come and get these memories!
Come and get 'em
Since you've gone out of my life!
Give them to your new love!
Give them to your new love! '
Not really though...
You've become too attached!
And I've become too unwilling to let go!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Atma
Atma is the Self,
made of Prana, Mana and Vak:
Motion, Consciousness, and mater.
Intellect sheaths Atma;
Mind sheaths Intellect;
Senses sheath Mind;
Body sheaths Senses;
Aura sheaths Body.
Thus,
Rig, Yajur, Sama and Atherwa sum up.
Body includes brain.
Brain includes intellect,
And Consciousness.
So Body and Energy
Are the two parts
That join to make Life.
Thus,
Science approves of.
We deny not both statements,
one by subconscious mind
and the other by conscious mind.
That is why
Religion and Science coexist.
31.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What Has Been Denied
One of the main reasons,
People don't know who they are...
Or can respect others to accept,
Is their approach to life.
And a valued place on false pretensions.
People have been made to believe,
And are convinced...
That reality is to be pretended,
And the more pretentious they are...
The more they reflect a 'version' of reality.
Blindly accepted.
And...
Those who are themselves,
And have lived reality...
From an experiencing of it,
Are perceived as being phony.
Although everything they have done...
Is based upon truth as it is,
And have attempted to deliver it.
But are criticized for being nonconformists.
One of the main reasons,
People don't know who they are...
Or can respect others to accept,
Is their approach to life.
One is taught how to live,
And how to act.
What beliefs to accept,
From those created...
And followed 'faithfully'.
And those who live not accepting,
Those beliefs to follow 'faithfully'...
Seem to live freer lives,
Without having lies to follow.
'Why is there so much conflict in the world.
Why are so many people unhappy? '
That's a good question.
And they are the ones who follow,
Taught beliefs.
Without seeking to live life,
To discover it on their own.
They follow and protest yet accept.
'But,
How can you say that? '
I've learned to stand back,
And observe that which has been denied.
My eyes have been open most of my life,
To see things as they are.
Not what I wish them to be.
With eyes open wide.
And apparently my 'version' has offered me,
A more peaceful co-existence.
And that for me is not phony at all.
I only have one face that I've shown.
Have you ever seen me wearing a mask?
To appease others doing it?
'No.'
You should take yours off.
You'll see exactly what I mean.
When you begin to experience life,
So many become offended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Will Never Forget 09/11
Ten years later and we still feel the pain
So many innocent lives was taken that day
The memories of our brave forces running to
Save a life, not thinking of themselves
Or the sacrifice
And the twin towers Falling to the ground
And hearing Peoples screams and every type of sound
The sounds of the buildings collapsing
and the sounds of metal starting to bend
Will it ever stop? Will it ever end?
These are just a few of the memories
that stay in our minds, and they will
Last till the ends of time
Over three thousand lives were taken
And they say that 343 of them were firemen and women
And police officers who gave their lives that day
And we honor them, in all that we do and say
Seeing the white dust that covered every street
And the clouds of smoke that billowed to the skies
These are the memories that will stay with you and I
For each American there is a different memory
but let's not forget they gave their lives for you and me.
poem by Louis Rams
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When You Know Yourself
Don't wonder about it!
Things have changed for you,
Dramatically.
Especially...
When you have passed your own image,
Reflecting...
From a storefront window.
And you return to get a second look.
Believing you saw someone you recognized,
Inside...
As you were strolling by.
And you stop to stare.
Realizing you still do.
It's you!
It's just that you have spent too much time,
On the outside.
And you smile...
At yourself.
Feeling happy you are blessed.
Knowing so many are upset...
With the affects of aging.
And you...
Step spryly away.
As someone waves to get your attention,
With a grin to convince...
You can spend your last dime,
On something you can least afford.
When you know yourself....
There is little else you need!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thought
Thought, I love thought.
But not the juggling and twisting of already existent ideas
I despise that self-important game.
Thought is the welling up of unknown life into consciousness,
Thought is the testing of statements on the touchstone of consciousness,
Thought is gazing onto the face of life, and reading what can be read,
Thought is pondering over experience, and coming to conclusion.
Thought is not a trick, or an exercise, or a set of dodges,
Thought is a man in his wholeness, wholly attending.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Stop, Look And Listen
I was walking down the street
just the other day
I caught a glimpse
of life vivid reality
I saw a man on the street
had no clothes or shoes
these are signs of the times
that's what they say
Everybody better
stop look and listen
stop look and listen
stop look and listen
to your heart
The prophets of the times
are written on the street car walls
can't you seem them crying
can't you hear them call
Mother mother children still
got to grow
father father where do we go
Stop look and listen
stop look and listen
stop look and listen
to your heart
Space age assures us life will
go on
and everybody trying to believe
forget the future
think about right now
somehow seem to be the growing
theme
Prophets of the times
are written on the street car walls
can't you seem them crying
can't you hear them calling
Mother mother children still have
to grow
father father where do we go
Repeat chorus
Space age assures us life will
go on
and everybody trying to believe
forget the future
think about right now
Repeat chorus
Space age assures us life will
go on
and everybody trying to believe
forget the future
think about right now
Repeat chorus
Forget the future
think about right now
Repeat chorus
repeat chorus
repeat chorus
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Goods From Your Efforts
Rise to the occasion each time met.
No matter how brisk cool breezes blow.
Or temperatures heated to leave you wet.
Bring with it uncomfortable humidity.
To slow the affects of your expectations.
Do not let a breaking of sweat upset.
Or keep a goal that is set to let slip,
From its fixed position in your mind.
And eventually the goods from your efforts,
Will deliver to you prosperity in time.
Do not let a breaking of sweat upset.
Or temperatures heated to leave you wet,
To slow the affects of your expectations.
And eventually the goods from your efforts,
Will leave you cheering to erase every regret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Times Passed
Keep your focus and your mind,
On what is observed!
With an awakening consciousness to find.
And not on the passing of time.
Since the speed of it...
That time with us to come,
To rapidly from us split...
Will lose you, me and others too,
To reminisce memories....
With a wishing done to return all of it.
And those times passed for all of us...
Are not going to be relived,
To see or breathe again...
Not anytime soon.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Attached To A Retro-Fitness
Attached to a retro-fitness...
Like a face that has been lifted.
Prepared and equipped,
To manufacture again anything...
Resembling one's comfort with it,
Is a wish for many to pretend their lives...
Do not with an aging process exist.
With a reality now speeding ahead as it is...
Ushered quickly away from their minds,
That will erase to take the place...
All signs of the times now lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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