Quick Fix Remedies
I find it absurb and totally ridiculous,
That those who profess to be in the dark...
And clueless,
As to why these days...
That find them entwined,
In an assortment of dilemmas...
Have discovered they are beset,
With mental, physical and financial regrets!
As if the steps they have taken,
Were unconsciously made...
By an hypnotic inducement,
That tricked them and enslaved.
Demanding today they are as if entitled,
To have quick fix remedies...
That will come to sweep them free,
Of their ability to self inflict their own ailments.
'Oh...
To 'bah' with a humbug is tempting! '
And they are the same people,
Who refused to hear or listen...
To those they depicted,
In character assassination campaigns...
As being unpatriotic, nationalistic mavericks.
With a choosing to ruin their reputations.
Well...
Who amongst those self righteous types,
Are in the streets everywhere...
Declaring their displeasures now?
And...
Aren't their activities,
Focused on the disparities of life?
Isn't this something once done years ago,
That was once declared...
A challenge to their way of life?
And they had turned their backs on those,
Doing 'then' what they felt had been right!
'Oh...
To 'bah' with a humbug is tempting!
Even if the holidays are not in sight.
But these times are so ripe for this expression.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
So Fresh Are These Days of Awareness That Come
Fresh are these days of awareness.
The spicing done to fantasies,
Seem totally ridiculous.
Escaping exits to explore escapades...
Are closing down in minds,
For those who had found themselves entwined!
Oh,
So fresh are these days of awareness that come.
A stinging stung that's felt,
Nearly by everyone.
And those who sing the blues,
Had other choices...
But they refused.
Deciding to keep their minds completely fixed.
To a way of life,
With standards and values today quickly nixed.
Wishing now they had kept things simple.
But consumed they are with bitterness.
With others like them...
Who have been deceived and tricked!
Oh,
So fresh are these days of awareness that come.
A stinging stung that's felt,
Nearly by everyone.
The spicing done to fantasies,
Seem totally ridiculous.
Escaping exits to explore escapades...
Are closing down in minds,
For those who had found themselves entwined!
And a whistling is heard!
Coming from those who kept their eyes opened.
Observing reality for what it is!
Now they watch those disturbed.
Those who sit stubbornly...
With hopes their delusions maintained,
Will someday again...
With the aid of false prayer,
By them who dare...
To display a sudden faith.
Be served to end the reality of their heartache.
But where were they...
When the earth began to shake?
To awaken those from their sleep.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Minds Of Those Judgemental
What sense does it make,
To label people fools, mavericks and idiots...
To then,
Years later...
Accuse them of being insensitive?
With a declaring of those depicted this way,
And chosen to isolate with a shunning done...
Of having no empathy to unite,
With those who now face dilemmas.
Especially when...
Those they had chosen to character assassinate,
Had warned them they would one day face...
A crisis that would open their tunneled vision eyes.
Could this pendulum that now swings,
From those labelled as misfits and 'freaks'...
Be swinging closer to the ones,
Who now see their beliefs threatened...
As that time now to them comes,
By realities they had opposed.
But now so afraid they seek not to be exposed.
Who knows what is in the minds of those,
Judgemental?
Signs of mental instabilities,
Need not to flash with neon lights.
'Do you plan to join those who are protesting? '
~No.
I plan to have a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.
And apply my Senior discount.
Oh...
And add two 'Old Fashion' donuts.
How much do I owe you? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reasons To Exist
Fascinating,
Are these times in which we live.
Seen to be devastated,
Are those unaccustomed...
To experience a drought,
Of food, shelter and money.
And the rising of expenses,
Making less sense.
Some have lost it and quick.
Without an ability to further credit their debits.
Their minds have been permanently fixed,
On valuing money more than healing...
Their mental and physical ailments.
And their eyelids can not seem to lift,
Without it.
Or the loss of it being taken out of their pockets.
So fascinating...
Are those who have made money,
Their reasons to exist.
And a disrespect for others is obvious.
Especially coming from those believing themselves,
To be entitled to what others may have.
And the evidence of their wickedness is historic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Addressed
If something is not wanted,
In one's life or environment...
Does it have to be accepted?
Especially when options,
Are given to be selected.
Is it ridiculous to listen,
To those with sustained complaints?
Or support those who embellish their circumstances,
Without restraint.
We live in those times when a focused mind is hard to find.
And when one is discovered,
It seems others do their best...
To dismiss the direct honestness of it.
Since this is not addressed on anyone's priority list.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Saint I Ain't
If there is anyone seeking,
Anything in my life to taint?
I'll be the first to say...
A saint I ain't!
There is too much to explore.
Too much to experience,
Than to choose it to be ignored.
I want to adventure my life!
And that freedom nature offers.
And I can well afford.
Why should I deny myself...
To please those with their noses in the air?
With their stiff necks.
And their tight high lifted derrières!
People like that...
Can remove their behinds of my track.
The path on which I place my steps...
May shock others to hold their breath.
In fact...
Many like that,
Are busy body pests!
You know the kind...
Those who find time,
To wine and dine their displeasures.
As they pour someone's tea!
And I don't mind at all...
Serving up a full pot of my own for starters.
I want it known...
I can be quite cordial.
Even in the midst,
Of my own possible degradation.
I like to sit...
And listen to this mix of gossip.
The 'seriousness' of it...
Is worth a hasty limited visit.
I choose to do the unexpected.
With God's blessings,
Of course.
If there is anyone seeking,
Anything in my life to taint?
I'll be the first to say...
A saint I ain't!
Or profess to know,
What my 'Creator' wishes.
Like some hypocrites...
Quick to quip from scriptures.
I keep my eye on folks like that!
They can become defensive...
When questioned about their lack of facts.
Nor do I choose to walk on water.
Today...
I probably could.
Much of it is too polluted anyway.
Like some people with minds...
With nothing else to do,
But define how others should be living their lives.
Like 'themselves'...
Who have been certified self righteous.
And gossip as they sit in church pews.
Discussing where the pastor's wife,
Purchased her brand new shoes.
A saint I ain't.
Especially after observing...
Those who make claims,
They are the elite of 'christianity'.
And you can find them anywhere.
Once they have been seen...
Like roosters with hens pecking,
On any scene they pronounce as qualified...
For their self indulgence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Remember the Ridiculous?
Remember the ridiculous?
When outrageous public statements made,
Were attributed to those considered nonconformists.
Or at least depicted as militant with violent wishes!
And were silenced quick wherever they dared to sit.
Remember the heights achieved by those self righteous?
The ones who quoted from scriptures and knew what sinning meant.
The ones who declared a separation of church and politics.
And spoke of family values and deplored decadence.
With hints they were chosen and others lived to be blasphemous!
Rewind these actions and tell me this...
Whose standards vowed are at a crisis now?
Who authorized the lives we live?
While standing by to watch...
Chaos rise to become prioritized as top notch!
With excuses to make and pointing fingers to give!
Remember the ridiculous?
When outrageous public statements made,
Were attributed to those considered nonconformists.
Or at least depicted as militant with violent wishes!
And were silenced quick wherever they dared to sit.
And those making the most noise today...
Protest loudly in disarray!
In groups to influence and convince in their dismay...
They represent the people who are of conservative ways.
Remember the ridiculous?
When terrorists were thought to ride camels...
And not be Ivy league graduates,
On shores who condoned and promoted this!
With only greed and the economy as the main interest.
Too bad the borders can not be secured,
By those who are staunch racists!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until It Is Seen
Since they don't think of themselves,
As great.
Their activities produce...
Far less than great things.
What's in the mind,
People will find around them!
You know...
Seek to find,
For validation!
I grew up around some 'Dare to Be Brilliant People'.
All we had was our minds.
And early acquaintances with a can opener!
We were challenged then to use our minds...
And look our best!
These were in schools,
Before the 'Let's Move Away From 'Them' Those Negros'...
Days.
I remember too well,
When they were implemented.
Like the beginning of the ending of something.
You know...
It's like the feeling one gets,
When someone else does something stupid.
And you want to reach out...
But the 'I'm Better Than You' look is given!
So one backs off,
And does their own thing.
One backs off,
And observes the mistakes occurring.
One backs way off...
When insults begin to be thrown!
And this is condoned by the environment!
And backed by government policies.
Introduced to protect the greed of thieves.
Since they don't think of themselves,
As great.
Not face to face.
Their activities produce...
Far less than great things.
What's in the mind,
People will find around them.
To distort their existence.
With an enhanced ignorance.
Like devastation one creates.
And choosing to describe it...
In a way that it does not affect,
A reflection of their insecurities.
And wishing they could move away from them...
Like something they find disgusting!
To invent their own demise.
One accepted as more trusting.
And one that can be disguised.
But those with early acquaintances,
With a can opener...
Had been 'conditioned' to observe these events,
From distances.
And with opened eyes.
In a rejected effectiveness!
That begins to disturb.
And peel slowly away,
To expose and pain the nerves.
Of those who choose their conflicts,
To battle on fields no longer appealing.
Comes back to affect those now desperate.
Those expressing a social and mental,
Defectiveness!
And banning together to protest...
Their 'upsetness' in regret!
And in a massive state of denial.
But these days 'from' them,
They can not push away.
Like visions on a TV set!
They can turn off and go play!
Today those 'visions' are there,
To show them how they came.
And how they got that way.
And an ugliness prepares to come to sit.
And visit!
Until it is seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some People Listen Some People Don't
You judge me before my words can come out
You can’t even look my way
And you leave me with no doubt
You won’t listen to a word I say
And I will never be heard by you
No matter what it is that I do
Some people listen some people don’t
Some people listen some people won’t
You shut me up before I can speak
You shut me up so you can keep me weak
Now I breaking all your rules
That you have made just for me
To keep me away from my history
From my strength and my dignity
Some people listen some people don’t
Some people listen some people won’t
You don’t know how many times I have prayed
That you would hear the words that I have to say
Now get out of the way
Because we no longer have to stay in this prison of the mind
Because we find you guilty of the ultimate crime
Now get out of the way
So that they can hear what I have to say
And begin to make their plans for escape today
Even though you made me a thug,
It is out of love that I put my message out
Find your voice in school and follow the Golden Rule
And shout it out, with out a doubt
That you will be heard, until you are heard
Right down to the very last word
Some people listen some people don’t
Some people listen some people won’t
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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Own World
Come here,
Quick!
We're hoping you can help us,
Make some sense of this.
We are diehard conformists.
To that we admit.
And those we chose to ridicule...
Had been the ones we selected,
As 'do-nothing' mavericks.
Shouldn't we have been the ones,
To have prospered?
To benefit from our loyalty.
The ones to make the gains...
With lifestyles to benefit?
In fact...
They had been those we ostracized.
And we made sure of it!
Now they appear to have profited...
From anti-social behavior,
That declared them lunatics.
Come here,
Quick!
Do you have an explanation,
For any of this?
'Well,
As an observer...
I can only offer this quip.
It seems those who chose to live free,
Of restrictions...
Are happier they did and did not quit.
Regardless of who thought what of them.
Or who passed judgement on their 'craziness'!
They do not seem to be complaining at all,
About an economic crisis...
That has marched the rest of you,
To the edge of an abyss.
And here you are filled with anger.
The ones gritting your teeth.
And spitting expletives.
You stand in a group...
Shouting in fits.
Cursing others loudly.
And with clenched fists!
Shouldn't that be the actions of those you claim...
To have been the ones isolated and brought to shame?
Didn't you say,
You all had gone out of your way...
To smear their reputations and ruin their names? '
Yeah,
But...
'I thank God I do not live in this neighborhood! '
Where do you live?
'I've been told I live in my own world years ago.
And I am so glad I decided to make it comfortable.
Thank you for asking for my opinion.
I thought I had been totally ignored.
You don't mind if I leave,
And take my peace of mind with me?
I've had it for so long...
Your question caught me off guard! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prepared I Come
Whatever it is from You that I need...
Immerse me with it!
Surround me and I will totally submerge.
I am more ready than ever,
To receive Your direction and command.
I no longer demand to be heard...
With tempting self righteousness,
Served from a shallow ego.
And blurred by mental unrest.
Now that I know in silence You speak to me!
Each time I profess my devotion.
Whatever it is I need to do,
To keep us in sync!
God just let me know.
In devotion,
This motion of life I have flows.
And prepared I come...
To benefit from Your teachings.
Reaching deep inside me,
I touch more to uncover
And surface with that which I've learned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Suitable Has The Outrageous Become
Is it befitting that the ridiculous,
Now
Is a way of life?
So suitable has the outrageous become,
That those seeking to shoot from the hip
With a telling it like it is,
With a voicing of it.
Are the ones today,
Finding themselves censored.
To allow the rise for the marketing of misfits.
And it was not long ago,
Those who were declared militants
With nationalistic wishes,
Were more patriotic
Than those elected to represent their contituents.
While those who promote decadence,
Have the bucks to demand
How much of the sleaze on the streets show.
Is it befitting that the ridiculous,
Now
Is a way of life?
So suitable has the outrageous become,
That those seeking to shoot from the hip
With a telling it like it is,
With a voicing of it.
Are the ones today,
Finding themselves censored.
To allow the rise for the marketing of misfits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These Are Not Those Days
Those beginning any relationship,
With the ease of making excuses...
Will be making them throughout the duration.
And then they are left to wonder why...
Their character assassination campaigns,
Are becoming less affective.
Today...
People are no longer entertained,
By those who clearly have insecurities...
They believe others should accept,
From a mindset that dishes to them disrespect.
These are not those days,
That have from them slipped away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deceitfully Victimized
One declaring to be victimized by another,
May pursue to get that atteention...
The first few times mentioned.
But then...
However and eventually,
Those who had been once accused of being culprits...
Become the ones who do receive the empathy,
After it has been discovered...
Those who elected to declare themselves victims,
Are the ones who deceitfully victimized...
To ruin lives of others they chose and selected.
But find themselves today the ones despised.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effects of what Others Do
Don't you dislike those implications?
I know I use to.
Especially the ones made,
By those who owe their lives to you.
The ones who have lied to others...
Who now have everything surfacing,
To have people see them...
As the fools I knew.
Those are the ones who like to take credit,
For things they did not do.
And today they want to prove themselves,
By overcompensating their judgements passed.
Only to find themselves,
Trapped by lies and deceit believed...
Buried in their past.
To now see what they've done now being trashed.
And not by me!
By that reflection they see.
'What goes around comes around.'
My mother use to say.
And, 'God don't like ugly, boy.
So you don't be that way.
He knows what's going on.
You'll see that one day.'
And as I've aged and matured,
I see the effects left by what others do.
With the attempt made to ruin lives of others.
And I know if they could have their druthers,
They would wish their feelings now felt inside...
Would not cling to linger as truths they can not deny.
'There is a reason WHY for everything.'
And I...
Use to dislike those implications made.
But I must say today I realize as I empathize...
Those I had despised,
Ruined their own lives not mine.
I'm not the one sitting with wishes,
I had lived a more righteous life.
I am happy living the life God to me has given!
With a conscious free and glad I had listened.
And did not rush to revenge those judgements.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's Humbug Day (or, The Way Things Are Going)
It's Humbug Day,
Hooray, hooray!
Little children come out and play!
It's time to smile
At the paedophile!
That's what the Politicians say,
'Cos everything's alright
And everyone's okay
And even Jesus Christ was gay!
They've changed the law,
Nothing matters anymore,
Don't be a bore!
It doesn't matter what you do
Or even who you do it to,
It's all okay!
No need to pray
On wonderful National Humbug Day!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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O My Long-Lost Playful School Days...!
o my long-lost playful school days,
come back into me in slow steps,
yes, not on fleeting feet to vanish in a moment-
o my distant friends, lend your carefree voice
as of those cheerful days on sands and soil-
o how i wish to be amongst you all again and again,
with no added years on our backs, on holidays
when we in total abandon, rolled on the riverbeds
in innumerable games divining our own rules-
alas! the cruel time has snatched all of you
and hid you from sight and memory for ever-
how many are alive today to hear my grieving call?
i sink in tears over the irretrievable loss
of those adolescent years that roared like waves
spraying bubbles of joy on the shores of youth!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Nothing To Them Dawns
It is getting increasingly obvious,
Who the foolish people are.
And the support they are receiving,
By those who follow blindly behind...
With an absence of their own thought process.
It is getting increasingly obvious,
Who has been depicted as nonconformists.
With a choosing to witness those sitting on a fence.
Debating between themselves to convince,
Which one is more logical and who makes sense.
As they try to impress who has the greater intelligence.
And the ones long depicted as nonconformists,
Now too impatient to listen to foolish arguments...
Find what others do no longer to their amusement.
With decisions they have made in times faded and gone,
To leave alone whether right or wrong...
Those remaining to debate over the obvious,
From Sunrise to Sunset and yet nothing to them dawns.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Does One Say To Another
What does one say to another,
Who has absorbed much disrespect.
Knowing it has been undeserved...
And yet this is what,
One undeserving gets.
What does one say to another,
After participating in that person's...
Character assassination?
And the person is aware of it...
Since where both live,
This is part of the environment.
What does one say to another,
When it is discovered...
Someone has been playing,
Easy to victimize!
Easy to criticize.
Easy to deceive and lie upon!
And yet...
Has protected the backs,
Of those who have ignorantly attacked...
Like that!
What does one say to another,
When that fact has been revealed?
What does one say to another,
Once they have awakened...
To find themselves setback and trapped,
By a lack of wisdom to comprehend...
How life should be lived to respect and not offend.
And...
'Who' ultimately wins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Applauded For The Doing
When companies were moving,
Their production and interests overseas...
To gain higher earnings,
They were applauded for the doing.
Even by those 'downsized'.
And very few criticized these decisions made.
Gleeming towers on foreign shores,
Attest what is 'theirs'!
And never again to be 'yours'.
Today people are blaming those in politics,
For allowing themselves to be deceived and tricked.
Today people are demanding to receive their jobs back.
With a sitting back and the doing of nothing,
As they expected paychecks that were fat.
And everyone points their fingers at those who lead.
But the ones who have been conscious of this,
When times began long ago to shift...
And were ignored upon the delivering of messages,
That insisted...
'No one can have what is wished,
IF facts presented are continued to be dismissed.
And adjustments aren't made to prepare for it.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Running the Race Of Life
As we run this finite race of life
To the finish line in swiftness of soul,
We undress ourselves of the baggage of strife
Take love in our steps to reach our goal.
Forgetting whatever lies behind
We set our hearts on the eternal price
Fixing our eyes on Jesus we find
His strength and power in us will arise.
As we number our days like fleeting mist
And our frailty of body declaring
The end line maybe right here in our midst
Our life may be in for a proper accounting.
For Death like a Thief always comes uninvited
And will cut through the race with his sickle
The call may come quick and be quite unexpected
Taking us suddenly out of the hurdle.
So let go of all sin and feelings of hate,
Be free of desires for material things,
Release and forgive before it's too late
The hourglass of life goes on emptying.
For the brevity of life is but a single breath
And we all will take flight as a bird
A destiny set for men to meet Death
Running only on the promise of God's Word.
'Show me, O Lord, my life's end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting is my life.
You have made my days a mere handbreath;
the span of my years mean nothing to You.
Each man's life is but a breath.'
Psalm 39: 4-5
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Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Tralac City Philippines 2008
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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