Preferring to Complain, Eat, Play Games and Sleep
Things will be said about the one once ignored.
The one once a joke,
And providing laughing fodder...
To those who fidget.
Saying there is 'nothing' to do!
And life to them bores.
With attempts made to improve their lives...
Very few of them even bother.
But this does not happen,
To those deemed and perceived...
Least likely to succeed.
The ones living quietly in communities,
And discreetly applying their seeds to achieve.
Perceiving to 'do' is 'to' follow through and receive.
Setting the example,
Is likened to biting into a pail of nails.
In some places...
Where folks are accustomed to applauding failure.
And setbacks are welcomed by those laying the traps!
It seems to happen to those,
In acceptance of themselves.
Believing they can do anything!
And accomplish like no one else.
No matter what the circumstances.
People like this seem to have a determination.
Like flowers reappearing to dare to bloom brighter,
Every Spring!
As if to prove a point that is made.
Regardless of what the naysayers bring to the table.
These folks seem to qualify their own abilities!
Since to accomplish means to them...
What one does with one's mind.
Not a place to find where this can be done.
Or seek to fulfill a mediocrity,
Like everyone in an environment...
Where excuses are made.
And alibis the 'disease'.
And a thought process for many,
Seems to have stalled in potential.
Surrounded by an abundance of it.
To proclaim!
But the potential has yet to become essential.
It's just in conversation to exclaim.
With a doing of it yet given an opportunity to use.
And those seen in pursuit...
Are immediately sought to ridicule and abuse!
Yes this 'is' sick!
And done daily by vocal nitwits!
Things will be said about the one once ignored.
The one once a joke,
And providing laughing fodder...
To those who fidget.
Saying there is 'nothing' to do!
And life to them bores.
But this does not happen,
To those deemed and perceived...
Least likely to succeed.
The ones living quietly in communities,
And discreetly applying their seeds to achieve.
And ironically...
This activity one has sought to pursue,
Isn't that unique!
But a work ethic applied to tasks to complete...
Seems oddly a challenge many unaccepting.
As seen by those who roam on urban streets.
Many have come to fear to dislike and not endear...
The definition of work or the time spent to sacrifice.
Mention this...
And they will soon disappear!
But adopting quick to devisive devices...
No one fears this at all!
Preferring to complain...
Eat, play games and sleep.
With a shopping stop made,
Daily at a local mall.
Like an expected routine.
Kept as sacred,
As the connection of life has to breath.
No matter if the act of that...
Has least importance than one's credit.
'They seem to take a lot for granted here.
Don't they? '
~I have no idea.
Do they?
I have things to do to get done.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Things Happen For Their Reasons
Things happen for their reasons.
And there is no need to make excuses,
For the obviousness...
Of those mistakes made.
Things happen for their reasons.
And,
What is there to say...
That can excuse mistakes away.
Stop that need to medicate.
Things happen for their reasons.
Why waste time in prolonged debates.
Thing happen for their reasons.
What is the purpose for seeking escapes.
Things happen for their reasons.
Acceptance eases,
The facing of one's fate.
Things happen for their reasons.
They happen for their reasons.
Stop that need to feed on grief.
Things happen for their reasons.
Why squeeze a healing wound to bleed.
Things happen for their reasons
They happen for their reasons.
And aging doesn't make one safe.
Or offer escapades as a gateway to charade.
Things happen for their reasons.
They happen for their reasons.
Things happen for their reasons.
And there is no need to make excuses,
For the obviousness...
Of those mistakes made.
Even while one ages,
With a life reminisced played on many stages...
Try their best to gracefully accept,
Things happen for their reasons.
And those experienced,
Eventually see this.
Things happen for their reasons.
And in the living of one's life...
A discovery reveals,
Those reasons with insight.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Twice Becomes a Habit
Doing what we please.
With the selling of our embellishments.
Has come under much scrutiny.
And a call to be precise...
Does not sit too comfortably,
With those irresponsible.
And others n'er do well.
Seeking a laziness to entice.
To abuse this twice becomes a habit.
To keep it fed becomes routine.
Some may see this as discrimination.
Not a justification...
To do away with incompetence.
And those who half accomplish...
What their intentions find difficult to finish.
These days a mediocrity,
Is being ushered from the spotlight.
Success comes with applied effort.
Not from those accepted as nice.
But aren't up to the challenge...
To get things done,
With sacrifice.
To abuse this twice becomes a habit.
To keep it fed becomes routine.
Gone are those days of going through the motions.
And adopting the notion,
Procrastination fascinates those with patience waiting.
Time is not a blind date...
Hoping to approve who shows and comes,
Out of breath with expressed excuses.
And annoying the diligent ones.
That tick-tocking on those clocks have stopped!
To abuse this twice becomes a habit.
To keep it fed becomes routine.
And refusing people like this,
From addressed strict agendas...
Keeps a purpose with direction flourished.
As long as it is understood...
They will always be kept in minds respected.
But their absence is welcomed,
When they are far away from strategic scenes.
Not to demean.
But to accomplish.
'No offense.
But we are here to get things done.
You understand that,
Don't you? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Midst Of The Doing
What I have managed to accomplish,
With a focus on attempts to pursue...
Has not been without sacrifice or effort,
And a fixed determination to prove...
My life live and the experience of living,
Means more than approval to me someone gives.
I am here to live life.
And adventure possibilities to either create,
Or accept as is.
And those who sit seeking acceptance,
Are usually the ones wasting time to complain.
While conducting campaigns to gain sympathy.
With a hope empathy is there to share in abundance.
People like this are often limited.
And grieving with excuses to make them sound legitimate.
I am not immuned from making mistakes.
And as long as I live there will be more I will make.
But...
It will be in the midst of the doing done.
And not in the faking...
To allow to be dismissed,
The seriousness of my wishes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effort
It takes initiative.
Sometimes unrelenting...
To accomplish a task,
From the beginning to end.
And there are times,
What one has chosen to do...
May be too much loved,
To ever give up to walk away.
With motivation, purpose and direction,
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And initiative with sacrifice 'and' devotion...
May require dedication for the rest of one's life.
Depending on how deeply one is determined and affected.
No matter how easy or hard it may look,
From the outside looking in.
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And initiative with sacrifice 'and' devotion.
With that set in motion,
Few people could careless how they are perceived.
Knowing blood, sweat and many tears,
May never be subjected to leave.
Oh yes...
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And with that set in motion,
In the heart of one devoted...
Few doing this could careless,
How they are perceived by the rest.
It takes an effort that will be tested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How We Learned Our Lessons
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.
And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!
They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.
'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
Our Parents.
~lsp~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Looking From The Outside
I may happen to make things look that way...
But nothing I've known in my life,
Has been made for me easy.
As a child I disliked to hear folks say,
I got everything I wanted.
But they were looking from the outside.
On the inside unsolicited headaches,
Is what I got.
With chores to do that were unstoppable.
The first room I had to myself,
Was a converted closet.
And I slept on a cot.
Believe it or not...
On a street called Garden.
I may happen to make things look that way...
But nothing I've known in my life,
Has been made for me easy.
And as I age today reflecting back on those days,
People use to use others to boost themselves to heights.
By telling lies and hiding behind alibis,
To cover up their hatred felt and those they despised to spite.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Point Of View
Nothing is as it seems
No thing is as it is
We see nothing that we need to see
We see everything as they seem to be
Some things are as they're deemed
But really everything isn't what its
deemed to be
Sometimes no time seems the best time
But most times this time is the only time
'Be what you want to be', they say
Is what you want to be what you're
made to be?
Made to be? Huh?
'Aim for the sky and defy it'
A snail crawls his days and yet is what
he's made to be
What do you see when you look at me?
Wait, again I ask
What do you think you see when you
look at me?
That's true, you've never really looked at
me
I've never truly looked at you either
All that seems odd is even
Right is right, wrong is wrong, the
midway wrong
A suit and tie, a blouse and skirt
A shoulder broad, a smile broadened
To be like them, the greener grass
Things as they are, are not what they
are
All parade their lives allegedly being real
And alleging others fake
Give all a mask and they'll tell who
indeed they are
The past of a saint, the future of the
sinner
All evils hidden and intentions tucked in
He was a martyr and oh, a philanthropist
And seemed to all who saw all things
seemingly
A hero and a king
But from up above and from in within
Love was not in the mix
And all that really seemed something
Really, truly was nothing
'The building was on fire, my baby
inside
Where was God? , there is no God'
Inferences for the novice, truth founds
the wise
The night had fallen
All men stood with eyes sky-bound
Some adored the beauty of the stars
And some saw a full moon
A selected few a half-broken moon
While the rest cursed the darkness of
the night
It was the same night with the same
stars
One moon, one sky, all mortals, different
views
The pleasures of life swimming in
laughter
Are sought after in money
The treasures of life hidden in us
Are sought after in things
The marrow of life living in friendship
Is sought after in fame
The meaning of life glaring in love
Is sought after in questions
No one sees what is, we seek what
should be
Which being never made to be
Never will be.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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The Application Of Much Elbow Grease
If I believed everything in life,
Should come to me quick and easy...
I would not have made any attempts,
To accomplish anything.
I'd be more like you...
Complaining and maintaining,
An ability to make new and fresh excuses.
Refusing to listen.
Or accept and move on,
From mistakes I've made.
I'd be like you...
Pretending the only thing I needed,
To boost my self esteem from a routine...
Was a bit of luck.
And a patted stroke on my back,
From someone who offered a shoulder to cry on.
And while you are here...
Let me make this comment absolutely clear.
I will never make it a habit,
To run from one listening ear to another.
Wasting my time or that of others...
Whining about time I don't have,
As I defend every one of my insecurities.
I've witnessed too many seasons,
Hearing how some folks abruptly leave.
To produce nothing but a list of 'what ifs'.
Perceiving they could wish procrastination away.
I've witnwessed too many seasons,
In bloom...
Acknowledging my dreams needed more from me,
Than wishful thinking without sacrifice, dedication...
And the application of much elbow grease!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A Finding Discovered
I doubt very seriously if my strides taken...
To want to motivate others to desire success,
Had been made more for them a priority...
Instead of something they did to see me pleased,
Or whatever that is done people do to appease...
Would I have adopted an inspiration,
To dropp them as my main activity.
With an applying all my focus done now,
As I do...
Upon doing my best.
To achieve without further wasting my time.
With a finding discovered,
Others only choose to make for themselves...
Excuses to accomplish as if to me to be defiant.
Nonsense embraced is inescapable these days.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nurtured and Flourishing
Obsessed.
Obsessed,
With what they believe...
Flatters.
Like looks.
Fashion.
And bling that comes adorned.
Things that to them matter!
Like images.
And 'things' to them that are physical.
Things to them,
Worn!
Mindsets of limited consciousness.
And yet...
Some become upset,
If their flaunting goes ignored.
Perceiving one they select,
To flatter.
Accepts,
In a contained self-centeredness.
And...
Is possessed.
By the receipt,
Complete in one's observation...
Of their obsessions.
Nurtured and flourishing in deceit!
But this thought process...
Has never been one to digest,
By those who live to accomplish deeds.
In total acceptance of how they are perceived.
To satisfy those whims given...
And from them to leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How I'm Able to Accomplish What I've Done
All through my life I've heard it stated,
Who is doing 'what' for me.
And how my life has been made easy...
By the very same folks,
Who haven't been in my life for many years.
And I love and miss them.
But facts are what they are!
Most of my life has been spent,
In the practice of assisting other people.
Carrying oil cans and doing those chores.
Because I was the only man in my household.
And my mom didn't 'shrimp' on what she expected,
Of me.
That's how I remember my 'cushioned' life.
'But...
Son,
You have been able to do this...
With such effortless cool.
I dig it and it's hip! '
~But, My Father...
Without You,
None of what I've done would have been accomplished.
Without You...
I'd just be another fool complaining about my life! ~
'Ssssshhhh...
Yeah...
They do complain a lot, huh?
Keep your voice down!
I thought you said you wanted to keep your activities mysterious? '
~Yeah, I do...
But Geessshhh,
Don't these folks know...
How I'm able to accomplish what I've done? ~
'Not necessarily!
If I had a nickel for every hypocrite professing their faith,
And devotion to Me...
I'd be able to end the economic crisis within hours!
If not immediately.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Just Want to Touch My Plastic
You just want to touch my plastic.
And qualify yourself,
As someone entwined...
In a relationship with me,
Of some kind.
One that defines you,
Approved to exhaust me of funds.
With an accepted aggrevation made,
To deplete me quick.
Applying a 'get-it-and-run' trick trip!
I'm not the one.
I am not having it.
That has happened before.
And I didn't get addicted.
Oh, yes...
That's all you want to do!
You,
Just want to touch my plastic.
To wine and dine,
Unlimited.
But let me say this...
You're not about to touch nothing of mine.
Until you've made a deposit.
One that suits me quite fine.
A massaging you can start.
And I'll decide,
If you become added to my membership list!
'Member what? ?
That's a bunch of ssshhh...'
Take your time and don't be quick.
Or fidget impatiently with crossed legs fixed.
As if to slow this process,
To inflict a punishment.
While I witness you paint your finger nails.
After you blow dry your acrylic toes.
Followed by a pouting of your ruby red lips.
You just want to put your hands on my plastic.
And other things God only knows!
With a proposal made that leaves me broke,
And left cold.
I'm not fooled by a smoozing,
You wish easily sold.
'Why can't your believe and accept I love you? '
I believe you want to do me with a paid for screwing.
That's what I believe.
And that's what you are doing!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Flavor and The Taste Of What One Awaits
Those discouraged to grow and flourish,
Will reflect upon the environment represented.
And those who bemoan these conditions,
With no participation given to reverse these affects...
Will discover the senselessness of playing catchup,
When the very basic connection of life has been missed.
There has to be a consistent conscious effort,
Applied constantly...
From a naturalness that thrives and exists.
Or it is not going to happen no matter who insists,
What needs to be strickly enforced...
When that effort of daily discipline,
Has all but been dismissed from the mix of this!
Can a cake be made without flour,
Sugar.
Butter or heat?
Procrastination with impatience to achieve great expectations,
Is similar to plagiarising efforts made by another...
But finding it difficult to sustain an originality gained and maintained.
With a hope no one notices a brilliance introduced,
Is missing and has been as time marches on!
The flavor and the taste of what one awaits is gone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Travesty of Brilliance
A travesty that shadows brilliance,
Contorts the showing of it...
In atmospheres where foolishness,
Seems worshipped and condoned.
Those who have a brilliance,
Are made to feel freaks.
Made to feel unusual whatever they do...
And often how they speak.
With a clarity understood!
That is not butchered on the streets.
Are pointed out as smart and/or 'lucky'.
And should move away to succeed.
Since where they live and feel a comfort...
Only disrespect they can expect to receive.
A travesty that shadows brilliance,
Leaves many disadvantaged...
With an unconscious acceptance,
Of a stifling ignorance.
Smothering them and in their decadence.
And...
In many communities where unity is professed...
A preferred association with ignorance,
Many profess as their success.
With a known evidence of it achieved.
To be brilliant and exposed,
Threatens those with insecurities.
Expecially those who are clueless,
With no connection to identity or to what that means.
To achieve mediocrity is a stretch for many!
And for more it is out of reach.
And those who are brilliant in the own communities...
Are treated as if they have leprosy.
OR something that disfigures them to be ostracized,
Shunned and banned.
Ridiculed by minds diseased.
And this travesty of brilliance,
Sweeps across a degraded land!
Showing just what influences.
And how corrupted insecurities...
Can destroy and ruin by command.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Perceived to Be For Them Easy
If this was easy...
Why isn't more of it being produced,
At this caliber.
If this was easy.
'Perhaps they mean it is easy to read.
Therefore...
It is perceived to be for them easy.'
It is easy for me to go to an amusement park.
But I also remember when it wasn't there,
For years.
And not one person expressed a thought,
To create one.
'What are you saying? '
It is easy to say what appears that way.
Until those who say it...
Make attempts on their own.
But that will not happen...
Since what is done requires work!
And those who believe things are easy...
Are not accustomed to work or its definition!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A nice joke
How can you say it is me and cut a joke?
You put words in my ears and poke
I have seen you wondering in thick smoke
It has puzzled me as if delivered with a stroke
You were dreaming in sunny day
You are off the track and lost the way
I have yet to find out my dream fairy
You are appearing from somewhere before me daily
You may have all the rights to assume
I am not ready for any relation to resume
I know you have all the qualities to be admired
I can praise you all way as desired
It is not easy to promise some one
This can happen with any one
I doubt some things can work here
We are still miles away to find the place somewhere
I have dreamed of meeting companion
I have still not formed any opinion
You may find me besides you
I have nothing to prove it as true
It is equally good to roam in paradise
I may come to you as major surprise
You may feel it to happen in near future
I have no words to convey and reassure
You may not aware as your eyes speak in endless volume
I have sensed it and would like to resume
It is still a mirage and no where to find
It may disappear all of sudden with the wind
I still think you are the best
It may prove to me as real test
Everything may move on as per our wish
I have many things yet on hand to finish
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Not Sitting Around Waiting to Be Examined
Folks who wish they knew more about others and don't...
Say those like this are 'complicated'.
Nothing is complicated about someone who lives an active life.
Folks find them 'complicated' for this reason...
They are not sitting around waiting to be examined.
Although they may be gossiped about...
Very few of them are living lives with issues!
And if they do...
They seem to move on with them being handled.
Without communal get togethers.
On the other hand,
Folks who claim to know what's going on...
Will say they are not interested in politics.
But can tell you who did what to who and when,
Next door and down the block.
Their noses aren't going to travel too far!
That wouldn't be to the best of their interest.
And self indulgence is their main priority.
People on missions to get things done,
Are not in one place to be observed.
And they aren't living to receive acceptance.
They are here to achieve.
Not bleed another heart!
Or found huddled in groups,
Prepared to victimize one of their own kind.
For being disliked.
So disliked that person can not be ignored.
That person has to be agitated into conflict!
Unfortunately,
There aren't too many people like these.
People on the move...
With things to get accomplished.
Things they want to get done and do.
Those 'programmed' to be far less complicated!
And quick to ruin themselves.
And their quality of life...
By not paying attention to the decline of it!
Leave evidence and facts of that in abundance!
And they are hopeful President Obama produces a magic wand!
~He 'needs' to produce,
A Department to Combat the Onset of Mental Diseases.
And their long range affects on a programmed mindset! ~
That title is too long.
They are already accusing him of being too intelligent.
For a Black man...that is!
Even under a microscope,
They are trying to uncover his flaws.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Days Are Over
I would rather work with you,
Than not.
I prefer it that way,
Without delay.
I'd like to keep the purpose fresh.
To minimize our togetherness...
Is an invitation for regret!
To be open to communicate,
I believe our efforts would achieve their best.
It eliminates the guess work.
And removes those steps created by pests.
To get things done...
Is the agenda I will keep!
And not a part of this activity,
Will I for anyone delete!
Do not mistake my patience,
For a sign of someone weak.
These are not the times...
To introduce mind games,
You might wish to find.
I would rather work with you,
Than not.
But I am not going to stop to discuss,
The 'ifs' of what should happen...
Or who 'is' or 'is not' pleased.
Those days are over!
To do,
And get things done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mediocrity Is Not An Effort That Succeeds
I do not pursue a challenge with you.
No.
Not at all.
I am on a quest,
To outdo 'my' best!
And having me to critique,
My own efforts made...
I wouldn't wish this kind of pressure,
On anyone else.
You should hear some of the things I say!
I am too forgiving of others' attempts.
And much too strict...
When accepting what I believe,
Is a commitment to achieve...
What I deem for myself as 'sheer' mediocrity.
And mediocrity is not an effort that succeeds.
Not for me as a motivator,
Pushing towards a direction that pleases.
It is for me an acceptance of procrastination.
And I have already given myself accolades for that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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