Opening Joke
If I wanted to please everyone...
I'd tell them how fantastic and beautiful they are.
You know...
That stuff folks expect to hear.
Especially out in public.
But geeeesssshhh...
Glancing at this crowd...
I know I have to be honest.
Since I expect most of them,
Would be hearing it for the first time.
And I can see there are lots of folks been lied to...
Sittin' up in here!
You got another pair of sunshades?
And even more would think my honesty,
To be controversial, direct and humorless.
Delivered from the embittered lips,
Of a black man fighting back his anger.
How did truth and honesty,
Become associated with bitterness in the first place?
They get enough amusement anyway.
Some of that stuff that goes on today is so hysterical...
It goes on unacknowledged.
Don't worry!
I've come prepared with an opening joke about economics.
That should rivet them to their seats!
Especially the ones sitting in the front taking notes...
Accustomed to being in seminars.
'Folks...
The topic this evening will be,
'How to Barter and Ghettomize My Pretensions'
Some of you taking notes,
Will find the subject matter rewarding.
IF you already know how to boogey and 'git' down! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Up Close and Vivid
There was a time,
I loved agitating.
Just to see different expressions,
Shown on people's faces.
Coming close,
To aggravation.
I knew my limitations.
I had gone to school to learn body language.
Interpersonal Communication.
And studying 'where' folks' feelings were.
You know...
Probing from afar.
Seeking to discover...
With just observation.
Who was disturbed...?
Who was emotionally disconnected,
And unnnerved.
And just 'who' was crazed?
Living on the edge...
Seeking to escape the maze of life.
Only to discover my own paranoia!
Today,
Few people are trying to hide their disgust!
Some are outright enraged.
With attempts to masquerade an outrage...
Many caring less,
If that it is shown on display!
And I am not quick to agitate...
For experimental purposes.
Not today!
Too many folks have venom in their eyes.
And I've learned to do what I've been trained to do,
From my early days of schooling.
I either wear my sunshades.
Or talk to myself!
Choosing to fit right in!
But I don't have to take notes today...
Too much of this 'stuff' is up close and vivid!
And I rehearse ducking...
Just in case a wild punch is thrown,
On its way to pay a personal visit!
These are not the times,
For one to blindly unwind...
To share false pretensions.
Too many folks are easily provoked.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Put a Sock In It
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Many getting sick of the pickiness started.
And when it gets sticky they can not stop.
Instigating agitation with annoyance.
Dropping all they've got to tie a mind in knots.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Can't you see them strike poses and begin to 'cheese'.
Then plop on their knees,
To make their pleas.
These same folks cry about bad luck.
With claims their butts are stuck in ruts.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
And fed up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Glitz, Glimmer and Rhinestone
For some reason,
Glitz, glimmer and rhinestone...
Seem to go together.
Like movies and TV.
And some people overheard in conversation.
If someone is in the need of costuming,
To enhance a 'theme'...
Or dress up to play 'make believe',
One would think people generally leave the 'real' stuff
Behind...
With an acknowledgement in their minds,
There is a time and a place that seperates fact...
From fiction.
And making long lasting impressions,
Requires one to be in touch with a bit of honesty.
At least the kind of honesty that is removed from gloss.
Unless...
Everyone has been in costume.
And those accustomed to being fake...
Take for granted,
That everything connected to life...
As they know life to be,
Has always been one they fantasized.
And lieing to oneself is accepted.
Since going through the motions is all one knows.
Isn't fake the new reality,
Today.
Even when the cameras are 'on'.
To catch what it is,
Being what it is!
Whatever 'What-it-is'...
Is!
And folks are being paid to...
Downgrade!
THAT is 'reality' for far too many people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Folks Are Just Folks!
black folks just like white folks,
gotta eat, sleep, need somewhere
to stay, need a job...
just want to be treated like people,
equal in every way....
and my Hispanic neighbors,
hard working, working together,
(we could learn from that!)
taking care of families...
human beings with human needs,
just like us....
Asians, Native Americans...
all just the same....
all of us just people....
want to be treated that way!
folks are just folks!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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So Nothing Is Done
Do you get the feeling,
That it doesn't matter who says what...
About anyone or anything anymore.
This seems especially true...
In small towns with nohing but gossip,
For folks to value.
The more things change...
The less those who desperately need to change,
Do!
Even in big cities,
There are small minded folks!
And...
The mindsets of small town folks,
Will be guaranteed to be left reliably...
Small minded and uninvolved.
But yet upset with 'them'
Because 'they' don't 'act' like they care,
About their problems.
Those who sit on stoops...
And/or push baby carriages,
Around the blocks where their babies fathers,
Stand.
Seeking tips on good luck,
To dropp in their pockets!
They have suffered from under the rug swept stuff...
These folks!
With claims to have problems...
That have been historically ignored,
By those praying to God for solutions.
And when they come...
They don't like what has to be done!
So nothing is...
Done!
It just decays!
And folks find ways to celebrated it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With An Action Given
With an action given,
Expect to take one back!
There is nothing done without activation.
If you've been insulted...
Or have shared your critique.
Don't think what has been done,
Is going to provide a peaceful sleep!
Some folks can not let go...
And wish to keep a stagnation brewing!
Either it repeats in their minds,
Or they spend the time mentally reviewing.
Yes!
And it provokes a redundance.
With an action given,
Expect to take one back!
Just expect it.
It doesn't mean it is coming.
But at least you are prepared...
To be questioned or attacked!
Either way your life is perceived...
There is nothing that is 'dished'
That's going to lay flat on its back!
It will be used.
Again and again.
Observing this provides the facts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Like Leaves On a Tree
There is so much honesty in truth.
Don't you think?
Once that is known...
It doesn't have to be shown.
One can see it.
Like leaves on a tree.
There is so much truth in honesty too!
Don't you think?
Some people don't believe this.
They percieve truth,
As something they can create.
Something they can change,
When they feel it is out of date.
Some people even lie.
This is true.
Some tell different colored ones...
Just to prove the 'real' ones,
Aren't what they tell to undo!
Some people embellish,
And exaggerate themselves.
Knowing with a consciousness,
Truth and honest...
Does not within them dwell.
They are the ones,
Who love to dance and sing around the bush.
Beat it a few times with assisted innocent looks.
Then expect to be forgiven...
To escape a punishment.
Like children told over and over,
Not to do something done.
But do...
And yet expect not to get caught,
When in clear view.
There is so much honesty in truth.
Don't you think?
Once that is known...
It doesn't have to be shown.
One can see it.
Like leaves on a tree.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Evening By The Moonlight
Traditional
In the evening by the moonlight
When my mother had finished working
We used to sit around the fire place
Till the cornbread it was done
And then we all would eat our supper
After that wed clean the kitchen
Its the only time they ever gave us to spare
To have a little fun
Then my daddy used to take his fiddle down
That hung upon the wall
While the silvery moon was shining clear and bright
How the folks would enjoy it
They would sit all night and listen
As we used to sing in the evening by the moonlight
In the evening by the moonlight
You could hear banjos ringing
You could hear them by the moonlight
You could hear my folks all singing
How my mother she would enjoy it
She would sit all night and listen
As we sang in the evening by the moolight oh yeah
In the evening by the moonlight
You could hear folks all singing
In the evening by the moonlight
You could hear my folks all singing
How my mother she would enjoy it
She would sit all night and listen
As we sang in the evening by the moolight oh yeah
In the evening by the moonlight
You could hear banjos ringing
In the evening by the moonlight
You could hear my folks all singing
How my mother she would enjoy it
She would sit all night and listen
As we sang in the evening by the moolight oh yeah
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fair And Square
i was there for
a tour
enjoying the place
taking notes
and buying some stuff
she was there
looking for work
an opening
holding on to her
last money
but i do not really think that
i am lucky
it's all fair.
and i do not have to tell her
what despair
am i in
perhaps mine is bigger.
i can tell it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Do Folks Just Make Up Stuff?
Why do folks just make up stuff?
Even those who traditionally lie professionally,
And have kept it this way for centuries...
Can be noticed becoming increasingly appalled,
By this relatively new trend in communication.
Their lies are being amended,
By the telling of lies more outrageously told.
And to say they are offended,
Is an understatement.
They can be seen blowing off steam.
Why do folks just make up stuff?
Not even good made up stuff at that.
There is weak made up stuff being made.
Low grade although acceptable.
And this can be seen,
As a detriment to standards kept...
That has begun to threaten values,
Being questioned by the youth...
Graduating with degrees of higher learning,
With no where to apply their lessons learned.
As those who just make up stuff,
Are making themselves more credible.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In all honesty
In all honesty
today has been
something out of the ordinary.
In all honesty
I could do with some christmas carols
and a mug of hot chocolate.
In all honesty
walking on the road without a sidewalk
is more exhilerating than anything else.
In all honesty
watching fog settle over the road
can bring tears to anyones eyes.
In all honesty
you're the only person
I'm mostly honest to.
In all honesty
this poem
is entirely honest.
poem by Erica Francis
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Sup?
'The usual stuff.
I see the same folks stuck.
Draggin' their butts from rut to rut.
Complaining about their bad luck...
While others do their best,
To pull themselves up.'
I see you struttin'.
Doesn't seem like you much troubled,
'Bout too much or nuthin'!
'I see it and I don't.
Aint got time for misery.
And I'm not 'bout to get on my knees...
Just to see somebody pleased,
I can do it.
I don' been through that mess.
You 'member I was distressed,
And express that to you.
As you pretended to listen to me confess,
From my point of view.
'Sup with you? '
The usual stuff.
I see the same folks stuck.
Draggin' their butts from rut to rut.
Complaining about their bad luck...
While others do their best,
To pull themselves up.
'I see.
Looks like you and me,
Got lots in common? '
Yep!
Which goes to show...
Even though we think 'we' different from the others,
We haven't moved too far...
From where they are.
'Yeah!
But don't it feel good to know sumthin'
'Bout movin' on?
Even if it is going 'round in circles? '
I guess!
They are there and we are here.
But it looks like they've got a better way,
Of avoiding paying more taxes.
And I 'use' to think the gov'ment was helping them out?
'Naw man,
That's how them folks got there in the first place!
How many liars and thieves you know,
Live like this? '
Well...
'None!
Where you goin'?
To that job fair? '
Might as well.
Seems to be the routine.
Either I'm over qualified...
Or I've got bad credit!
And when I 'was' qualified...
I stayed in a rut!
That's wassup!
'Stayin' in that rut, huh? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Focus Folks
You gotta focus folks!
Yesterday it was okay,
To glimpse and run.
Seeing something in passing...
And dismissing it as if,
It wouldn't produce...
A long lasting effectiveness.
Well,
Today it's like this...
Those who believe they have not been at risk,
Are fooling themselves.
They are caught up in it!
You gotta focus folks!
Yesterday it was okay,
To glimpse and run.
Seeing something in passing...
And dismissing it as if,
It wouldn't produce...
A long lasting effectiveness.
By now many have witnessed,
The consequences of their thoughtlessness.
The demise of their quality of life!
And the stupidness of their racistness.
What is going on around them,
Are trappings of their delusions.
To seclude them in some ethnic separateness...
That is ending to bring all into a togetherness.
Regardless who likes it.
This is a fact!
Try to hide from it!
You gotta focus folks!
Yesterday it was okay,
To glimpse and run.
Seeing something in passing...
And dismissing it as if,
It wouldn't produce...
A long lasting effectiveness.
Well,
Today it's like this...
Those who believe they have not been at risk,
Are fooling themselves.
They are caught up in it!
You gotta focus folks!
What is going on is no joke.
And if you had been the kind,
To provoke others and their peace of mind...
You will find yourself,
Soon,
Out of yours!
You gotta focus folks!
Forgive and forget...
And destroy those hate notes!
Rip them up or burn them quick.
A major adjustment of change exists.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suggestions
Few suggestions do I make.
Especially to those,
Who solicit them.
Most times folks await,
Suggestions they prefer and like.
And it becomes difficult,
To be both honest and polite...
With someone who tries to define,
My interpretation...
Of what I 'really' meant.
To defy in denial...
With a prepared and customary,
Excuse.
Few suggestions do I make.
Especially to those,
Who solicit them.
When I know I am honest in my assessments.
And folks aren't ready for the truth...
Unless it agrees with them.
Only to hear them say back to me,
'What makes you an authority?
Judge and jury? '
My response?
'Years experienced,
In being a complete jackass!
And it becomes easier for me to identify one!
You...
Are still in the midst of development.
And I understand that too! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Well Knit Organization
Go ahead.
Keep up that brave front.
Mask your emotions...
To prove how strong you are.
Keep your pain to yourself.
And guess what happens?
Something is going to crack.
Those who believe,
To keep things hidden and inside themselves...
Is okay?
And showers upon them admiration and respect.
Have already provided clear signs of dysfunction.
These folks will know everything and nothing at all.
They are there for 'everyone' else...
Trying to smooth the rough edges of other folks' lives.
And can not discuss the truth going on within themselves.
They will embellish it by becoming defensive.
But they are really a mystery within themselves.
They hide behind their agonies with a sense of humor.
I know!
Trust me.
Go ahead.
Keep up that brave front.
Mask your emotions...
To prove how strong you are.
Keep your pain to yourself.
And guess what happens?
Something is going to crack.
Trust me...
I know too well about that!
That kind of mindset was handed down to me.
But I gave that crap right back.
I learned too early in my life,
To keep my eyes on some folks!
And that's why it is easy for me today,
To identify those who lie to themselves...
And produce their own heartbreak.
I use to sympathize with them...
Before I discovered,
This was a well knit organization.
With folks soliciting on a daily basis.
And was nationally recognized!
They did not need another member.
It was not discussed.
That was determined.
These folks schedule their activities,
Around their doctor appointments.
So that gives one a clue...
Reality is not a hot topic with this bunch!
Noooo buddy! Not with them.
Folks like that...
Will never snap out of it.
Just hope you are not around them,
When their minds begin to crack!
After the affects of Prozac has worn off.
And their eyes have an unfocused glaze!
This may happen without warning...
So pace yourself slowly to the nearest exit!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slow Folks
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
The slow folks...
Would like to borrow buttered biscuits,
And then lick 'em...
Like their crackin' on dope!
Those slow folks...
Can getchu outta line!
Those slow folks...
I've seen that all the time!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
Oh,
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
The slow folks...
Would like to borrow buttered biscuits,
And then lick 'em...
Like their crackin' on dope!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
By those slow folks...
A butt end of a joke.
By those slow folks.
Provoked or demoted,
By those slow folks.
Or turn into a joke!
By those slow folks.
They can getchu outta line!
Those slow folks...
I've seen that all the time!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
Those slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Very Difficult to Achieve
Some folks achieve notoriety,
Based upon the quantity of their work.
Not as a result of the quality...
That can be observed.
However,
With a touch of therefore.
It is very difficult to achieve,
A sustained quality!
Well...
For some!
But after a while it really doesn't matter.
Folks will diminish one's ability,
To sustain a quality with quanity.
It happens.
Since the familiarity of it being delivered,
Becomes taken for granted.
Try maintaining substance over time.
It can be done.
But not recommended.
Folks don't associate work with it!
And sooner or later...
Whatever it is becomes disrespected.
For the uniqueness of its delivery.
And deduced as something that was done too easy.
And sleazing it becomes even easier.
Especially by those who rise in the morning...
Prepared to critique,
As part of what it is done they do...
To participate in this experience called life.
We all have a need to fulfill something we regard,
As valued by somebody, somewhere.
And so we do it.
Most times without thought at all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Addictive Personalities
All that 'is'
Will change.
All that 'has'
Will not.
And you expect,
Something from yesterday to be repeated?
Children who can not read,
Are passed along from grade to grade.
Without any comprehension at all being done.
There are folks hired in executive positions,
Because of their looks.
There are few women chefs who cook in restaurants.
And I have never seen a fireman direct traffic!
Have you?
'You make absolutely no sense.'
And neither do you.
All I asked if you will loan me another $10,
Like you did yesterday.
I will pay you back!
And you expect,
Something from yesterday to be repeated?
Children who can not read,
Are passed along from grade to grade.
Without any comprehension at all being done.
There are folks hired in executive positions,
Because of their looks.
There are...
'I get the picture! '
I don't think you do.
I don't think you will.
We both have addictive personalities.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing Up In the Projects
You want to know what it's like,
To grow up in the projects?
Being different and taking risks?
'Can't be that bad! '
Follow me.
'Where are we going? '
Up to the roof.
'To the roof? '
Yeah.
I want to show you something from my point of view.
Now...
Turnaround.
Put your hands behind your back.
'Why? '
I'm going to tie your hands behind your back.
Then I'm going to blindfold you before I leave you alone.
'But...
I might fall off the roof.
Aren't you concerned about that? '
You'll learn to adjust.
If you want to survive.
And...
If you can not get up from a fall?
Maybe you were too blind not to pay attention.
Some steps some folks shouldn't take.
Listening and observation is key.
Common sense is precious.
You be surprise how many lessons one learns,
Growing up in the projects.
'But my hands are tied.
And I can't see.'
I use to hear that all the time!
~Boy! Can't you see my hands are tied?
I can't see where the next dime is coming from.
And all I get from you is lip! ~
Note:
Not too many folks I knew who grew up
in the projects became victims from the experience.
In fact, most of the folks became very successful people.
But...that was a time when expectations were high.
And many years ago when folks chose to have 'some' identity
and dignity connected to the 'self' and a growth process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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