Poopey PooPoo
My grandmother,
Was not into calling her children
By nicknames.
In fact she once said to my sister...
'I gave my children the names they have!
Each was given with a special meaning.
To identify and dignify that which has been given.'
I often wondered...
Had my sister and I been,
The only ones listening?
With comprehension?
Over the years...
It just appears that way!
Today...
Grown folks are known better by their nicknames.
Than those names given.
Poopey PooPoo. BeBop. Slice and Dice...
BooBoo and Drooper!
What 'energies' have they called upon themselves?
And their children have no idea who their parents are.
Their real names.
Or their purposes.
I remembered when I began calling myself Lawrence...
My birth name.
Lawrence, Junior in fact.
Named after my father.
We were both called Larry at one time.
I decided I would become Lawrence S.
After discovering on my father's birth certificate,
His name was listed as Lawrence A.
And I wanted to be 'AS' much as Lawrence as possible!
Can you guess...
I am between poeticness.
As I share a bit of 'personal-ness'.
Folks got upset!
Guess who smiled?
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar.
She was very strong and dynamic.
She was pleased to know I was daring!
And the leaves upon the trees,
Begin to bloom in Spring.
As I reminisce those things I miss.
Taking trips back through time.
Those things impressed upon my mind.
And finding me feeling blessed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
When I Discovered My Given Name
When I discovered my given name 'is' Lawrence...
(Named after my father.
Who on 'his' birth certificate says Lawrence 'A'.
And I'm suppose to be a junior with no 'A' attached.
Go figure!)
...and not 'Larry' as I am still called by family members,
And very close friends.
People who 'knew' me became upset,
When I began calling myself 'Lawrence'.
Saying I thought I was better than the others.
And that I was not 'real' OR down-to-Earth!
'Does this sound a bit crazed?
I wanted to call myself by my 'real' name...
And folks who didn't have my name,
Became upset!
Pure insanity...
Isn't it? '
There's more...
But my parents did not name me Larry.
They named me Lawrence.
And my father everyone called Lawrence...
Decided he was going to be called 'Larry'.
I'm not going to say he was a jealous man.
That's a different story!
And I decided to become as REAL as possible!
Even adopting an African name, Suhuba...
Of the Yoruban language.
Meaning 'laurel' or of the Sun.
And 'that' made some folks furious.
Family members became outraged...
Because I sought 'identity'.
And I was accused of wanting to be 'white'.
These are the same folks who call for unity of all kinds!
But they don't know 'who' they are to unify.
And 'why' or for what!
That's how ignorant some environments,
And the people can be!
Divided into segments of conditioned realities.
God bless 'em!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Happy Birthday Daddy Larry
86 years old,
Today my Daddy Larry...
Would have celebrated on this day.
He and I had a unique relationship.
We weren't particularly close.
And yet,
A closeness existed.
He and I were so much alike.
But he never did scold me,
Since my mother Edna did that...
To keep my steps on a path walking right.
When I was young,
My daddy was called Lawrence.
I was then Larry junior...
With my own presence known.
Then when I became of age,
He wanted to be called 'Larry'.
And I thought, 'How could he do this to me?
Moving in to claim 'my' territory.
I became Lawrence 'S'...
Back in 1971.
And when I discovered on his birth certificate,
He was Lawrence 'A'?
I had not known that up until that day.
And AS I grew...
Knowing my daddy would soon pass away?
I told him I loved him.
And he looked at me as if to say,
'I wish I had more time! '
That was back in 1988,
Days before my Daddy Larry...
Would from us pass away.
And on this day, December 11th 2010...
I miss my daddy very much.
With a more understanding of him,
And who he was.
Feeling his presence is near.
And we are closer now than ever.
Just because...
That is the way it is!
Happy Birthday, Daddy Larry!
Dedicated to the memory:
Lawrence Pertillar, Senior...
My father.
'Miss you, daddy.'
Love,
Lawrence ('Larry') ...lol
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Aunts and Uncles
Ladies and gentlemen...
My daddy Lawrence, Sr.
Is the eldest of twenty-one.
YES...21!
Born to Clara and Charles Pertillar.
And I remember the times
We would have great fun!
There is:
Jesse
Charles (Bey) , Jr.
Catherine
Clara, Jr.
Albert
Edward
Donald
Julius
Is abel
Emily
Edna Mae
Cecil
Leola Jean
Sandra
Gayhall
Overton
Virginia
Lorraine
And...
Anna
'Hey...
That's only 19!
Did you miss anyone,
In between? '
Well...
My grandmother said she had 21.
And my grandfather is proud...
He even remembered the names of everyone!
And I soon will be 61 myself.
Feeling blessed,
I was produced from this nest!
And we 'all' had nicknames too.
Some of us had more than one!
Many of us had quite a few.
And grandma made sure,
She fed her 'crew'!
Dedicated:
To my wonderful Aunts and Uncles.
Love you...nephew 'Larry'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Admit I Have Forgotten
When I was a much younger person,
It was difficult for me to listen...
With a paying of attention.
I was young, dumb and full of...
Ignorance I shared.
With those who became upset,
With decisions I made too late to correct.
Today,
I listen to everyone.
Whether what is said is solicited or not.
I even sit through people repeating themselves,
With hopes my raised eyebrow would send a clue...
I got the message two days ago.
And they 'still' continue.
Believing I am listening intently.
I've learned that one never knows,
What is being said today...
Will not apply one day.
Whenever that day arrives.
'Remember you told me to shut my mouth,
To listen years ago.
And I became offended,
Calling you some horrible and atrocious names? '
No.
I don't remember that.
What names did you call me?
How horrible and atrocious were they?
'Well...
I just wanted to say I am grateful to you.
And I feel even more blessed,
You have forgiven me.'
Wait a minute. Hold on.
What were those names you called me?
Help me remember.
Maybe I haven't forgiven you at all.
Although I admit I have forgotten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unaccustomed to Having An Identity
Have you ever been in a situation,
In which you insulted others...
When you had a preference,
To begin to use your own given name?
And others became offended by that?
Others became offended...
Because you announced a clarity of your identity.
AND...
This offended?
AND...
You then became so proud of who you were,
Your entire presence began to threaten?
Especially those unaccustomed to having an identity!
The ones from birth until death,
Are only known by their nicknames.
And they are related to people who will never know,
Their real names.
Ever!
Have you ever been in a situation,
In which you insulted others...
When you had a preference,
To begin to use your own given name?
And the next thing they want you to do,
Is to get 'right' with God.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Are All My Children
Even though their names may escape me,
They are all my children.
Each and every one I recognize.
There is something expressive...
I can not deny.
Since that is not disguised.
They are all my children.
And from the time love was made to create them...
I am still so very proud,
To have assisted in their delivery.
And they all identify,
As being a part of me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Indian names were either characteristic nicknames given in a playful spirit, deed names, birth names, or such as have a religious and symbolic meaning.
quote by Charles Eastman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Have Nothing To 'Anyone' To Prove
SOMETIMES...
Not often,
I am amused to meet...
Someone from my childhood,
Who attempts to re-invent...
The events I lived through,
From 'their' memory!
And how good it was,
In those days long gone...
When I was made to do chores,
As other kids played...
And I was home taking out garbage,
Washing dishes...
And mopping and sweeping floors.
As I look back at those days today,
I can say I am no longer bitter...
By how I was raised.
Or the fact that I had been called names.
But a fear I did not express.
Although I walked with my head down,
Feeling insecure and shamed.
'You're gonna fix this God? '
I would 'always' ask!
Today?
I live not too far from that same neighborhood.
And God has made so many things 'right' in my life.
That bitterness that use to sit within me?
Has been replaced by so much joy these days.
~Gee...
Is this 'me' feeling all this happiness? ~
I am tempted to evaluate others.
But I can 'feel' my mother daring me to do it.
And hearing her voice whisper in my ear to say...
'Larry, you have nothing to 'anyone' to prove.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ambiance
Excited I glowed...
When with my uncles and aunts.
Feeling such a radiance,
In a sheltered ambiance.
When I became older...
My ties with them were cut!
As children we had nicknames then...
But as we grew we gave them up!
I long to be called, 'Bighead' again!
And running through the Maple trees,
Carefree and laughing with them!
Some of them have passed away.
Like my grandparents; mom and dad!
And yet that ambiance I remember...
Seems to sink like racing sand so fast.
With nothing to hold onto or grasp!
As my time passes quicker...
In this swift shifting hourglass!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nicknames
nicknames are thrown
around in my family;
our own terms of endearment
word could not describe.
it is that closeness
towards each other
through words that evoke
a special experience
with a brother or sister
or just a plain description of
his uniqueness.
a brother is called La Ting
because of his bald head when a
baby.
eldest brother is labelled Ming
instead of his real name Thai
because of his intelligence
when a child.
Ming means clear-minded.
Another is called Lung
instead of Ing because of his
Chinese horoscope sign dragon
which in Mandarin is Lung.
mom's favourite animal sign
is dragon so the name sticks.
youngest brother is Bee,
my own spontaneous invention
when I saw the cute little child
in mom's hands many years back.
I am so glad and proud
that this is the only creation
in my life that has been used
for so long and that it
has surprisingly given
brother all the good luck;
he turns out to be a bank's manager.
he should have me to thank
for all his fortune.
another brother is called Chi
instead of his real name Kui.
i could not fathom the
reason for this and wonder
which brother first started
calling him that.
eldest sister is Pui
instead of Hua because
of her plumbness when a baby.
and oh dear, we are naughty
when it comes to our neighbours.
many of them have secret nicknames
coined from the way they
talk, walk, and even look
and we really hope they would
never ever find out these names.
Our family just bubble in
our neighbourhood because of
our incessant inner creative jest
to coin all those secret words.
perhaps, we are nicknamed too
which we never
bother about because
we know nicknames are
given out of endearment.
at least, that is the case with us.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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With Their Wishes To Be 'Freaky
I think I've been called,
Every derogatory name there is.
When I was a kid that use to bother me.
Especially those names I couldn't spell.
I had at one time collected them.
To see which ones I preferred.
So...
To entertain,
I admit I then did some things that were strange.
Many years have passed,
And even today I'm considered 'eccentric'.
As if I did not spend my life pursuing this!
Status quo folks bore me to tears.
With their 'normal' way of doing things...
'Whatever' today people consider that 'is'.
And as I reach to seek for more challenges,
I realize I've almost outdone myself.
Believing I was made to test the waters,
Before anyone else.
And a few have sought me out to give advice.
With their wishes to be 'freaky' without paying the price.
'Back off!
I've earned this! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Empire
Named were they,
To become kings of power!
Gay Hall
Overton
Cecil
Julius
Donald
E dward
Albert
Charles, Jr.
Lawrence
Named were they...
Because they were queens!
Anna
Lorraine
Virginia
Sandra
Leola
Edna
Emily
Isabelle
Catherine
Clara, Jr.
Jesse
These are the children...
Born to aspire.
To nurture the beginnings
Planted and branched...
From the foundation of an Empire!
Strengthen at the base by Countryman roots!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Aint Been 'Right' Since
Just throw me any compliment you wish,
With superlatives dripping with adverbs and adjectives.
And don't forget that 'ego' written all over my forehead.
Be sure not to miss that.
That wants to be massaged.
I'm telling you...
Just how 'shallow' is my deepness?
Don't get me wrong...
I am tremendously grateful I am blessed,
But...
Comeon!
I guess some people perceive my head,
To be as big as...
Alaska or Texas.
I'd be stuck on 'uh' if it was.
I just do what I know I do.
Those who 'really' know me,
Know this is no secret.
The only time I was impressed,
Is when my mother followed my every movement...
During my tap dance recital.
She was on my every step.
Better than I was.
And that was 59yrs ago.
And it was more than 50yrs ago,
My sister 'Mimmie' exclaimed...
'Larry? You did 'not' write this! '
Her nosey eyes was all up in my business,
Back then.
Don't get me wrong...
I am tremendously grateful I am blessed,
But...
Comeon!
I guess some people perceive my head,
To be as big as...
Alaska or Texas.
It really isn't.
Although it's expected to be.
And I don't know why.
Not soon after my birth...
I demanded my parents,
Stop by the store...
To pick up some pads an pens!
I had some ideas to jot down...
As soon as we got home!
And wouldn't you know...
They got me pencils instead.
And I aint been 'right' since!
Well...
At least the pads had 'lines'.
Upon which I was prepared to deliver.
I am embellishing a little bit.
But...
Not by much.
Give or take a few years!
I would 'add' at least...
6 or 7.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Most Genuine
When you have been called,
Every name there is.
And some of those names called...
'Sailors' have not yet been taught?
And agitation seems to roll off your back,
Quicker than a duck can quack?
You have arrived!
And...
'If' you can admit,
To hugging and kissing a tree...
Publicly?
There are few things in life,
You have not experienced.
And your smile reflected,
Appears most genuine.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Guess What?
Guess what?
When I discovered,
I could appreciate my own happiness.
Without feeling the guilt of being selfish,
Or self centered.
I began to do it with more consistency.
I was one who believed,
Doing for others came first.
To bust my butt for my brother!
Be dutiful and strong for my sister.
And so on and so forth.
You know...
That me for you,
You for me BS.
I am 62 years old.
And that kind of human spirit...
I have witnessed used infrequently.
And I can't be the only one...
Subjected to live in the valley of leeches.
Some folks are blessed to give with that sacrifice.
And this too I have learned...
You can not do enough for other people.
They will squeeze you dry of every emotion you have.
And then complain to anyone who listens...
About how 'you' think you are better than everyone else.
Guess what?
When I discovered,
I could appreciate my own happiness.
Without feeling the guilt of being selfish,
Or self centered.
I began to do it with more consistency.
And left those to say what they will,
Alone.
Because they will.
Whether they are alone or not!
Guess what?
I've also learned I can spend wonderful times,
Away from miserable people!
And I'm not saying 'all' are miserable.
Just the ones I enjoy being away from!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For No Other Purpose
There are those who are into other people's lives,
To voice their opinions about how some folks live.
I've been conditioned to keep them distanced.
Generally they are the kind who do not mind,
To share updates with beliefs attached.
Introducing those they know,
By resumés they don't mind exposing.
Like busy bodies on a field trip!
Often they begin to probe about background,
And things one has done.
To qualify their associations...
Especially when around to dropp names of some.
They are socialites who enjoy being on the scene.
For no other purpose but to show some folks...
Who they believe is vulnerable.
And which ones they can select to demean.
All for the sake of ego...
That exposes a personality that borders on the obscene.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lessons Can Be Learned
Once I've been pushed to the edge...
With my back up against the wall,
And accused of doing things...
I had not done at all?
And all I had wanted,
Was to share gifts I had been given?
With a wish to offer...
Because I'm not the selfish kind!
Well...
My motivations have changed.
Some folks have a way to show,
Anyone...
How these unselfish acts,
Can eventually make one feel...
They are the ones out of their minds,
And something snaps!
Reality does that.
And after giving to others...
Only to get a reception that attacks?
Proves this fact...
Lessons can be learned!
Feelings hurt can be mended.
Backs can be turned.
And away from that kind of crap...
One can walk!
And not a word has to be exchanged.
At this point...
Nothing said,
Will be understood!
Unless one 'is' as believed...
In it for the attention?
And there is nothing about me...
In need to receive it like that.
Or...
Am I crazy enough
To want to be treated with that kind of insanity!
Clearly devoid of hospitality.
Not me.
There are too many other things to do!
And too much time,
Already wasted.
'That reminds me of that postman that was shot,
Because he delivered someone's welfare check...
After the bank was closed! '
You can stand there and reminisce.
I'm not taking the time for none of it!
Some folks don't 'get it'.
And I now can care less...
About who gets what late,
Or not at all!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This' I Know to Be True
You can not be a better Lawrence S. Pertillar.
Not better than Lawrence Pertillar, Junior can!
Somehow I know this.
However...
There is something you can do,
Better than Lawrence.
Or anyone else who attempts to prove.
And you can place a bet on this,
At any casino with little risk!
I bet you can have the best life possible.
If you desired it!
And no one has to know,
A thing about you or what your name is!
Who you love or who you choose to screw!
That is up to you.
'This' I know to be true.
And 'if' I can say that...
I know you can too!
Open your mouth and say 'Ahhh'!
Now,
Get out of my face.
You've got to have other things to do?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quick to Boost Children With Wit
I once sought acceptance.
As a child growing in an environment.
Living amongst those I was told to respect.
With words untold...
I also grew to respect.
On their terms.
Since the same turf we shared.
Back then and during those times I yearned,
To learn!
But as I grew to understand from hard knocks.
Like throwing rocks at children.
And finding them and their parents...
Coming to my folks,
With not a smile on their faces!
Not a one looking...
As if they came to tell a series of jokes.
My yearnings to learn,
Took me, at times, away from my neighborhood.
Sometimes alone!
And for me this was good.
I soon came to understand...
Some folks didn't have a high degree of curiosity.
In fact...
Many couldn't read.
And those kids who could...
Were kinda ostracized from the 'hood'.
And growing up in a huge family...
I kept my thirst for learning,
As a secret kept within me!
But today as an aging man...
I know how important it is,
To be who I am.
And I am quick to boost children with wit.
Encouraging them to be inquisitive.
And observe how minds empty of thought...
Will have their hands out,
With nothing in them to share or give!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Or Without Certifiable Documents
Birth certificate aside.
When did one's birth certificate,
Qualify them with competence?
And those who have them...
Why has the importance of having one,
Not as of yet assisted in providing proof...
Anyone seeking another's evidence of being born,
Impresses with an accountability they have not shown.
Even taking responsibility for their own actions commited...
Are blamed on someone else!
Birth certificate aside.
When did one's birth certificate,
Qualify them with competence?
Or excluded them from an honesty,
That has been truthfully with a blatantness deceived...
With or without certifiable documents.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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