One's Success Felt
A feeling from one expressed,
And shown to another...
There is a caring that is addressed,
Is enough to leave one inspired...
With motivation.
Since one's success felt,
Usually ignites when others are pleased.
No matter how minimal or great the deed.
If 'someone' is there caring heights can be achieved.
And with a doing done not to impress...
But just to do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where Is The Caring Done
Where is the caring done,
Anymore.
And,
In what valley?
On what mountaintop?
And...
On what shore.
Tell me,
Where are those feelings felt?
Who deals with their emotions,
To conceal from everyone else.
Where is the caring done?
Where.
Why.
And who is it for?
A negativity given to experience,
Appearing as observed,
Never wins in the end
And gets defeated as deserved.
A kept faith with hope that's positive,
May be suppressed to be expressed.
But true faith felt...
Strengthens in in its power,
As one lives.
To be there to comprend when given,
As it is.
Where is the caring done?
It's there and it's done.
It is felt and it comes...
Eventually.
And never to stun,
Those patient in waiting faithfully.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There's Many Still Caring
There's many still caring,
What they believe and hear.
Who says what about them.
And who to impress and how they live.
There's many still caring,
How they dress and appear.
And who's going to think what of them.
And what they have and what they give.
There's many still caring,
Where they go to pray.
And who sits in church with them.
And who is not there on Sunday.
And...
There's many still caring,
Once they prepare for bed.
If a neighbor is sleeping.
And who they know,
Is having sex instead.
And who is it with them in bed!
There's many still caring,
Where they go to pray.
And who sits in church with them.
And who is not there on Sunday.
And who they know,
Is having sex instead.
And who is it with them in bed!
And when they're done what's being said!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's More Than Something You Can Intellectualize
There's a lot more to caring than knowing
There's a lot more to caring than saying
There's a lot more to caring than thinking
You can 'know' you care
Think you care
Convince yourself you care, even think that you genuinely care
But that really isn't fair
If your actions don't match
The attitude of caring
The attitude of loving
It's more
It's more than those who love you
More than those who care for you
It's the ones who don't
It's the ones you don't know
It's those, it's them, they need you most
You can't just walk away
Caring is more than something you can think about
You can't be compassionate and ignore a need
You can't fulfill every need
Where is compassion?
Where is caring?
If it's so much more, what is it that we have?
Is it worth trying?
Won't you fail?
But you forget
Caring is more
It's more than something you can intellectualize
It's more than a concept
It's more than thinking
More than knowing
More than even an action
Caring is a lifestyle
For all those around you
Even beyond yourself
O and one more thing caring isn't about caring about
Yourself.
poem by David Knox
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Early Works - Caring
Caring is about the little things
tears on a sunny day
for friends who may have gone away.
Caring, a word with such expression
when times are hard
the out stretched willing helping hand.
Caring a thing, we cannot always see,
but it’s nice to know
that there is always someone there.
Caring something, we always need
a cherished thought
by someone, anyone who cares.
4 October 1979
poem by David Harris
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Confession III
Her lonely boat fated to float aimlessly
midstream, weary with sadness, drifting.
Her hold overflowing with duty and feeling,
bow rocked by storms, adrift and wandering.
She rows on, not caring who tries to dock,
sails on, not caring who tries the rapids.
Whoever comes on board is pleased
as she plucks her guitar, sad and drifting.
poem by Ho Xuan Huong
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With A Motivation Determined
One must never forget,
The generosity expressed...
By those who are naysayers.
If it had not been for nit pickers,
Critics and character assassinators...
Who would be instilled,
With a motivation determined...
To see their dreams fulfilled?
Who could say with honesty,
There was no one that boosted their desire...
To prove there was something of merit,
They could get done and could do?
Few can say they achieved,
Because it was for them a hobby.
And they awakened inspired by their own aspirations,
Without 'somebody' riding on their back.
Few,
Can say they achieved...
Because it was for them,
A love of sweating without getting rest...
And the doing of this enjoyed as a hobby.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Care Provider
The only ones,
Who will ever know what it is like...
To abandon their own life,
To become the care provider for another...
Are those who have done it.
With a caring less,
About their worldly collected possessions...
Others confess have become too treasured,
And used to impress.
Be they a son or a daughter,
Caring for a father or mother...
Or someone other.
People who wilfully leave behind,
The living of their own lives to make time to give...
For days, months and for some many years,
Are the ones who can truthfully attest...
A sacrificing unintentionally done,
Eventually comes with its blessings!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is A Reason And Rhyme That Connects
No one should assume,
They know someone so well...
As to take their expression of concern,
For granted.
Or believe they have stopped doing it,
Because that person is in an attitude...
And has exclusively to them shown this.
For no apparent reason.
And they have expressed this 'moodiness',
Before in the past to them.
If someone is taken for granted like that,
With beliefs that have not been validated.
But has been treated indifferently as time progresses,
By those with unfounded beliefs they hold onto...
They can also assume,
That a concern once expressed...
Will not again be addressed,
By someone who has stopped caring...
Less,
What it is that they believe.
Eventually those assumptions held in their minds,
Will connect to find...
Someone that has been dismissed,
To them has been genuine.
There is a reason and rhyme that connects,
To everything with time given it that takes place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just To Be On The Surface
Some do their 'ooohhhs and aaahhhs'
Over the appearance of things.
With a caring less of content.
If it should impress physically...
Mentally, that is all for some,
That needs to be addressed.
Many live just to be on the surface.
To shop and dress and look their best.
With little or no depth at all to express.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To my loving Mum on her 86th Birthday
God bless you Mummy dear on your birthday!
And may He grant you some more years on earth;
You did so well, better than most earthlings;
You were our one, most loving, caring mum!
You did your chores despite life’s short-comings;
You opened doors to every child in life;
You mothered us well, proved a goodly wife;
You were our one, most loving, caring mum!
You were so great, Mother of mine indeed;
You consoled us and caressed us in feed;
You taught us things which books and teachers can’t;
You were our one, most loving, caring mum!
May be, you felt you could have done better;
May be, you felt you were unkind at times;
May be, you thought you could have erred lesser;
You were our one, most loving, caring Mum!
And now old-aged, with wearied frame you stay;
You want to live and yet, it isn’t easy;
God grant you strength of body, mind and soul,
And pass your remnant days in divine role.
You need not fear as old-age brings its fears;
You don’t worry as your century nears;
You be happy with kith and kin and dears;
Our life’s carriage, God adeptly well steers!
So cheer up mum, God has a plan for you;
Your prayers have ensured your heaven’s seat;
Hence, keep your cool; rest God will surely do;
You life was one of SUCCESS, NOT defeat!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-21-2004
poem by John Celes
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Children Reflect Those Ideals Projected
Children,
Reflect those ideals projected.
With a caring less,
Of how their wants and needs are met.
And a child caring less,
Of how their innocent desires are met...
Will do his or her best,
To express no regret...
In the showing just how much they are upset.
With a display of embarrassing tantrums,
A parent tries hard to minimize and suppress.
A 'child' grows up to expect,
That a loud voice heard in protest...
Will get as demanded,
What is wished with no exception.
A child never forgets,
Who promised what and when...
The day and hour,
That promise was mentioned.
Regardless of the dust that may collect in pockets.
Or the emptiness in each corner of a treasure chest.
A child,
Raised to be a 'child' teased by success...
Will never be satisfied by just a taste of it.
Since to sacrifice is not,
A conditional part of a child's mindset.
A CHILD,
No matter how old that child gets...
Will demand what is wanted,
Caring less who pays for it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Come with me, darling..
come with me darling,
we shall go for shopping,
we can look for many things,
that are warm and melting.
Have you heard my heart beating,
to the vibration your sighting,
what portion that you having,
that makes me obeying.
we have found a commodity,
that has many identities,
It is a confidence booster,
comfort that we needed.
When I cry, this makes you to wipe my tears,
When I look sick, this makes you to look at me deeper,
when I am down, this makes you to lift me up higher,
When I am in trouble this makes you to pull me to you closer.
Caring is the elixir, that makes our life happier,
Caring is the doctrine, that guide us to be merrier,
Caring is the wonderful feeling, selfless with out barriers,
Caring is the only bond that keeps us all together.
Come with me darling,
we shall go for shopping,
we can look for one thing,
that is warm and melting! !
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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By Any Other Name
A known betrayal done,
By any other name...
Is a 'betrayal' done just the same.
It is an act to blatantly deceive.
With premeditation planned,
To keep quietly hushed and kept discreet.
Anyone who betrays,
Deserves exactly what they receive.
Whether a remorse filled with guilt.
Or a disgrace shown and given,
From those who feel embittered...
By what to them has taken place.
Expecting empathy and forgiveness,
With a weeping pleading to a loved one...
To understand what they have done.
Are examples of those with minds corrupt.
And like weeds popping up...
Across all lands.
This sickness committed to admit a selfishness...
Few will come to recognize as a tremendous ego trip!
With an overwhelming narcissistic self centered thoughtlessness.
And...
Feelings of an entitlement wished,
That no one else like them can demand.
And those in positions of leadership,
Are not exempt from this.
They are the main ones who feel this way.
With a doing done as they please.
And a caring less,
Who is hurt and offended by their treachery.
No matter how it is addressed to impress...
Those who may be sympathetic,
To the ones like this,
Pathetic!
Anyone who lies to their closest allies...
And dress impeccably with the utmost of etiquette.
Filth and misdeeds are thoughts these people have,
And will not from them leave.
Since they are the beholders of what is perceived,
To be the focal point in their own awe inspiring parade.
'Did you hear...? '
~No I didn't and I don't have a need to listen.
I have only to observe.
I am already affiliated with reality.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Whatever One Believes Is Achieved
I've got to be in a wrong state of mind,
If I find the act of self aggrandizement...
A sign the reflects one's self centeredness.
And by design others give attention to this.
Perhaps I should re-revaluate,
The purpose of life!
And why we all exist to bridge gaps.
I've got to be in a wrong state of mind.
Not to attempt to define such obsession,
As a professed ego expressed.
Or am I so behind the times,
That believing what one does...
Has nothing to do with deed!
But the prospects of being honored,
For whatever one believes is achieved...
Can lift an ego to great heights.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I May Get Misty Eyed
I could never be inspired with this motivation,
Without you.
I could never attempt to reach to heights...
Once believed out of my own sight,
Without you.
And I may get misty eyed,
When thoughts of you in my life...
Gets next to me.
And I may show moods of attitude,
If you...
I feel I don't please.
And I wish I could say, 'What's love got to do with it? '
But it has been the love you've given to me...
Is all I need.
I could never be inspired with this motivation,
Without you.
I could never attempt to reach to heights...
Once believed out of my own sight,
Without you.
And I may show moods of attitude,
If you...
I feel I don't please.
Since it has been you,
And who you are...
That feeds my need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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By All Means... Continue Your Tease
When an admission of caring for another,
Begins for the other...
A reason to establish a game of playing,
'Let Me See You Chase'.
Such a mistake this becomes,
For the one believing...
To be chased makes one's heart race.
With a pacing done in an excitement.
An admission of caring for another,
The other may not realize can be stopped.
To be replaced.
Especially if something felt is genuine.
With an awakening that creates,
An acknowledgement that comes much too late...
That the one who runs away from someone's caring done,
May find themselves with a gift the other does not get!
With far less exhaustion to give in the giving that ends.
'I thought you said you liked me.'
Oh I did with a caring done too.
But prepared for a marathon in the proving of it,
Is not what I give in the expectation in establishing...
A relationship.
'So you don't like me anymore? '
I cared for 'you' not the 'race' you wanted to see me win,
In a chase.
'I was just teasing...
That's all.'
You may be good.
Continue the tease.
However...
Someone else will find that out before I will,
Wont they?
And it will not be me.
By all means...
Continue your tease.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Occupied By Similar and Limited Visions
A sold soul,
Has an inability to self reflect.
Everything they are told,
Is with ears set...
On an idealistic perfectness.
Although they are constantly trying,
To achieve a correctness...
They believe to themselves,
That has already been identified...
But can not be to over stressed.
By the credentials they have been awarded.
And achieved by feeding,
A confirmed definition of success.
And compared to others,
Who are occupied by similar and limited visions...
To assess mindsets equally possessed.
A sense of false happiness has been achieved...
With a certification shown that has them obsessed,
In those social circles...
Where titles and name dropping,
Are emphasized topics to be loudly addressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Contributions Made By Their Champions
If it was notoriety, fame and fortune...
Many wanted to achieve to make them happy,
Why is happiness the last thing on their agenda...
When accomplishments done are made?
Who's dreams are people like this living to fulfill?
Is it possible that someone promoting their own desires,
Become upset after achieving the pinnacle of success?
It can not be their own if it is decided their lives lived,
No longer is worth the doing of it.
And those observing them do this to themselves,
Look upon them as objects and novelties...
Caring less no one protects their human qualities.
Or can detect them inside pleading,
For someone to help them not to self destruct.
'Thoroughbreds will always maintain their status,
As long as those around them recognize and value...
The contributions made by their champions.
And do their best to help them achieve a balanced outlook.
It has to be extremely difficult to be a thoroughbred.'
~Who said that? ~
'I just did!
Didn't you hear me?
A greatness sustained has to be more than just acknowledged.
It has to be assisted in the understanding as to why it is great.
And 'why' it is kept respected that way.
One does not awaken and decides greatness will be achieved.
It takes unbelieveable determination, motivation and love to do it.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That's 'Almost' Funny
If one does anything perceived,
That gets an attention one deserves...
There will be envy expressed.
Or a sarcasm heard.
If one looks a certain way,
That hints of beauty...
Or an accepted physical presence,
There will be envy shown.
Or a 'player' hating comment thrown.
Forget about feelings of emotions felt.
Forget about struggles one is dealed and dealt.
Forget about living the process of life itself.
If it was about looks and what it took to survive...
Very few who victimize would not be around,
Expressing envy, jealousy...
Or rolling their nonproductive eyes.
Folks who provoke and poke their jokes,
Do more lieing than trying to invoke good strokes.
'That's some 'light' stuff!
Is your poetry on a diet? '
That's 'almost' funny.
It must be the season of the Easter Bunny?
I rate that one 'ha' with two hees.
Followed with a 'mind-your-business'.
Leave!
On a serious note...
You irritate me.
ANYWAY...
If one does anything perceived,
That gets an attention one deserves...
There will be envy expressed.
Or a sarcasm heard.
If one looks a certain way,
That hints of beauty...
Or an accepted physical presence,
There will be envy shown.
Or a 'player' hating comment thrown.
'To an 'ego' known.
Overblown.'
You have a lot of time to do absolutely 'nothing'.
'And with a 'nothingness' done,
You have achieved 'some' success.'
Buzz off!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Offended And Upset
People have become too complacent.
With a caring not to listen.
Or a caring done to comprehend!
Believing a sleepwalk exercised...
Through rituals and symbolic traditions,
Would appease the majestic mentalities...
That brought them to experience,
Lives they live here on Earth.
A respect not shown,
Is awakening those with a selfish consciousness.
The disrespect shown to one another...
Has more than just neighbors complaining,
About this thoughtlessness.
Guess what else,
Has been offended and upset?
With no patience left...
For anyone to get their act together!
If anyone has not yet accepted,
The depth of their connected realities...
Soon will discover their beliefs to be dispensible.
Since we have been the welcomed guests!
Not the 'creators' of what we believe,
Can be easily deceived.
WE are not the creators of what we see,
That has allowed us to leech...
Maniputively!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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