Quick To Be Thoughtless
People who believe themselves to be influential,
And dismiss the activities of others quick.
Assuming what has been done,
Will not affect where they sit...
Or come not to experience the wrath of one,
Victimized by their wickedness...
Only need one time to be shown,
Who's boot fits the foot that kicks them out the door.
Just one time does it take,
To clarify this kind of mind with an introduction to reality.
And to their surprise,
The one who does this...
Was the first to have offered a welcoming,
With a warm assistance given.
But...
Who knew that the one self obsessed,
Would perceive the one expressing hospitality...
To be the one picked as dispensable?
You know...
Someone believed trying to impress.
And someone who one best is thought...
Can be done without.
So disturbing are the minds of those who are...
Quick to be thoughtless and fast to raise a nose.
And...
Too late,
Come the lessons for some to learn...
Like those who believed they are chosen,
When applying a respect that should not be selective.
And they 'assume' someone near,
Can do without a bit of political correctness.
Based upon their 'perspective'.
And undenied and unstoppable 'arrogantness'.
'Excuse me,
Your Highassness...
I don't believe we've met.
But if you expect to stay around here...
Your way of doing things,
Will not be done around me.
Is that clear?
I am not so charitable when offended.
Or dismissed by stupidity.
But I do love the process of giving warnings.
Some I know wouldn't bother!
How fortunate you are 'they' are not 'me'.'
~What are you saying? ~
'I'm quick with the use of my feet.
And you don't want to see either foot in action.
Since that would create unnecessary distraction.
But eventually you will get the point I make.
I've grown increasingly patient.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Quick
Quick to dismiss,
That which is misunderstood.
And quick to do this often.
Because one can and could.
Quick to define something wrong.
Quick to complain about it,
All day long.
Quick to sit to nitpick and pull apart.
As if this quickness was intended from the start.
Quick to resist a comprehension that exist.
Quick to allow a temper tantrum fit.
Quick to whip up excuses...
And split to disappear.
Quick to discover the nearest exit!
That's what troublemakers do...
When they stir up others in raging fits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Understood To Exclude Them From Truths
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Quick to betray,
If their insecurities are threatened.
But yet to display,
Are their excuses made with few exceptions.
Associations with people like this,
Over time decreases in respect.
Explanations of their neglect...
Eventually from them some should expect.
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Maturity is dismissed,
In the minds of people with this addiction.
And it is unfortunate they allow themselves...
To be chased away by delusions.
With a praying done their delusions will stay,
To be understood to exclude them...
From truths they painfully detest.
And hate to face from day to day.
As a life lived in reality eventually fades.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Exchanging Of Footsteps
Could it still be a possibility,
That one's life lived exclusively...
Running away from responsibility,
Can learn after many years spent...
Ignoring the benefits obtained,
In acquiring skills in arithmetic.
Or the process it takes to comprehend,
What has been read to broaden a limitation...
Accepted in one's head instead,
To begin to attach those pieces that fit.
And they eventually could sit patiently,
With a doing of this?
Let us not be quick,
To lift with a raising up of our right eyebrows!
Many dismissing the discipline it takes,
To quietly absorb a practice in listening...
Actually wait until it's too late,
To find someone desiring to teach an adult...
To undo those childish stunts in a mind done.
Even children in their fifties can learn!
Let us not be quick,
To lift with a raising up of our right eyebrows!
A willingness to waste another's time,
Is okay.
Until it has become decided,
Someone's seriousness is ready to be displayed.
And...
Is reason enough to give away,
Those experiences acquired by someone else.
And we all can participate in the joys of life.
Let us not be quick,
To lift with a raising up of our right eyebrows!
There are people all over the place,
Willing to sacrifice their time, minds and efforts...
With their experiences suffered alone to condone,
In an exchanging of footsteps!
All it takes...
Is just for 'one' of us to let this be known.
Let us not be quick,
To lift with a raising up of our right eyebrows!
Let us, you and me...and Mother Love,
Just for a few moments abandon realities!
And...
Use our minds to perceive of this,
Idealistically.
'Yep!
Didn't I tell you?
They were doing much more,
Than the changing of test scores...
In the teacher's lounge.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quick Is The Beat Of My Heart
Written by lewis mark
Lead vocals by james young
If its my time to die today
Please God oh make it fast
Balanced on this point for a year and half
I just dont think I can last
Theres a man whos laid to rest
The man who gave me my start
I wish I could quit but I cant and its rough
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
So please all you people
Dont you grieve for me
The blood in my veins is black and I cant bleed
Ive suffered the pain
And all I can face is the dark
Oh, lord, quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Now my bags are almost packed
The trains about to depart
I wish I could quit but I cant and its rough
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
Quick is the beat of my heart
If its my time to die...
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Received Without Sacrifice
Years spent in learning a craft.
Or the multiple tasks attached to applying...
That which is associated in the creation of it.
Benefits with the experience of observation.
And plenty of lessons through frustrations learned.
Pieces believed by others to be detached,
Are actually there in place.
And many are not aware of that.
One foot directed,
Does not mean the other does not sometimes drag.
Many have their eyes on a prize.
And become discouraged,
By the assortment of different routes...
Avenues, valleys and streams,
One motivated takes...
To put together a dream.
Sometimes with mistakes and false starts.
Even painful screams to see created,
What one eventually achieves.
Is believed by others...
To be as easy as a wish delivered.
Without shedding blood, sweat and lots of tears!
Only those giving their time,
Knows what that giving of time means to give...
Throughout the years.
Some believe gifts given,
Are received without sacrifice.
And they are the ones procrastinating...
Sitting to seek a more sweetened advice.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There To Visit And Released
A truth hidden and unknown,
Eventually exposed and shown...
To be what it is,
Whether at night or in broad daylight...
Is difficult to create escapes to make,
By those who had relied upon the giving of false faces.
Even their own shadows in dark places intimidates.
With no where they can go to be believed,
To expect a warm welcoming to be received.
Since once truth is seen for all that it is,
It becomes impossible to fake or substitute.
Ask anyone confined in the mind by their misdeeds.
And experiencing a fear to be left alone anywhere.
Especially if truth has been there to visit and released.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Experienced
Deciding to finally be direct...
After years of beating around the bush,
May be a refreshing step for you.
With a mind hesitating,
In an outdated point of view.
But for those who now could care less...
What from them you expect.
Your steps taken,
To see the forest 'and' its trees...
Has left you alone,
In a reality once accepted...
As those observations,
Came then too quick.
To take as they were.
Inspect and leave.
Since for many what you perceive,
Is a reality lived,
And gone as it was believed.
What 'was' no longer exists.
Today changes have become,
Complexed.
And in these times that continue on...
You may find what's next for you too perplexed,
For someone like you...
Who's not experienced in being direct.
You will find that reality you have has gone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Watch
I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent,
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick;
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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The Watch
I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent;
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick:
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick...
poem by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Experience the Meaning that Is Felt
People are not born to be...
Thoughtless.
Uncompassionate.
Inco nsiderate.
Cynical, sarcastic, ruthless and cold.
There are just too many folks,
Who are willing to teach these lessons...
At a reasonable price one gets to pay.
And it seems that those who learn their lessons well,
Know just what to say at that appropriate time.
One foot with toes stepped on...
Does not make the other foot,
Available...
To experience the meaning that is felt!
And those who get it,
Usually get what is coming to them...good!
Those who prefer their coffee,
With cream and sugar...
Will know the difference,
When it comes to them served...black!
And unapologetic if the taste of it is too strong.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Running Out of Patience
They did not understand his smile
Or the quick pacing of his steps.
They did not understand
Why rumors did not affect him!
Neither gossip nor slander
Seemed to bother him at all!
And when they threw him out...
Locking the door behind him,
They were amazed to discover him...
Laughing and swinging on the swing,
In the backyard!
They could not sleep at night...
Even medicated!
Why?
They questioned!
Why is he doing 'this' to US?
And no one thought to change the locks!
And 'he' had the key!
He also owned the house and the property!
And he knew...
They were living on borrowed time!
His!
They believed they were doing him a favor,
By gracing him with 'their' presence!
And he enjoyed them not knowing...
He was running out of patience!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Welcoming Of Their Own Grief
I remember a time,
When being honest with integrity...
Actually made a difference.
People had respect for those,
Who used their minds and were direct.
I also remember,
When people were not so quick...
To protect obvious mistakes made.
Or wasted the time to debate,
A welcoming of their own grief.
I remember a time,
When being honest with integrity...
Actually made a difference to leave.
And people did not pass judgement,
Before they listened to comprehend.
And today people have grown accustomed...
To ignore the message to then blame the messenger,
For their mistakes made to say as if offended...
They should be forgiven for not being accountable,
As they played unconsciously until it became too late.
And I remember the day when I walked away to leave,
This insanity to embrace my peace.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Selective
Those that write...
Know there is no easy way to it,
To get it done.
But to do it.
Plagiarist are quick to quote,
And lift whole passages.
With attempts to have their theft flow.
As if one's style can not be recognized.
One who writes,
Knows this upon sight.
It is similar to a game of chess...
Played out like life.
And at one's best.
The more one becomes aware of the game...
It is not who plays,
But how well they do it.
With a signature imprint that is left,
To impress with style.
That separates them from the rest.
And 'that' a plagiarist does not GET!
Even God intended to create,
And make each snowflake...
Unique and different.
A 'purest' would know!
All trees do not bear leaves.
Some bear pine.
Yet few, if any, grow ungrounded.
'Are you talking about trees?
Or plagiarists?
Or or or...chess or both?
What ARE you talking about? '
~Neither.
I want to emphasize the unique,
And different images of each snowflake...
God makes.~
'And I 'listen' to this? '
~That's the point I make exactly.
You have 'chosen' to be selective.
Others are not so particular.
They will pick up and run with anything.~
'And...
I might add.
That is b-a-r-e, 'bare'.'
~Oh?
A selective purest who is also a reading critic?
With time to discern proper word usage?
You should apply that kind of discretion,
To your game.
Perhaps you wouldn't lose as often~
'It's your turn.
Just make a move, okay? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visions To Taste Evasive Promises
You come to me with expectations,
My path you will clear...
From your prior attacks,
That left total devastation.
With promises you would correct this,
IF I remained patient.
This is what you want me to believe?
As if I'll be quick to forgive your wickedness,
Based upon promises with no actions to leave?
You really take me to be a perfect fool.
I learned with time given this is true. You do!
And I must admit...
None of what you've done would have ever existed,
If I hadn't allow you to see me sit...
Wishing for my dreams to come if I sat to just sit.
With your assistance.
And visions to taste evasive promises fading again away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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mmm-mmm...Quick Feet
I'm not a greedy eater,
But I do love to eat!
mmm-mmm...
When you cook,
mmm-mmm...
I sneak a look,
mmm-mmm...
I get addicted with an ease that hooks.
mmm-mmm...
With smells delicious,
mmm-mmm...
And a left foot twitched,
mmm-mmm...
I admit to my impatience like an itchy crook!
I'm not a greedy eater!
I love to eat!
mmm-mmm...
When you cook,
mmm-mmm...
I sneak a look,
mmm-mmm...
I get addicted with an ease that hooks.
mmm-mmm...
With smells delicious,
mmm-mmm...
And a left foot twitched,
mmm-mmm...
I admit to my impatience like an itchy crook!
And ooo...
I need some water,
And ooo...
To take a drink,
And ooo...
The eyes on me don't wink or even blink.
My stomach's grumbling and I'll sneak to eat.
mmm-mmm...
Is it fish?
mmm-mmm...
Or tasty beef?
mmm-mmm...
I'm gonna grab a piece and flee on quick feet.
oooooo...
Quick feet.
Go go...
Quick feet!
mmm-mmm...
Quick feet!
mmm-mmm...
Delicious treat and fleeing on quick feet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A preference to hate
I would prefer and love to hate
Such thoughts come in mind very late
It makes me to wonder on so many counts
Minds goes in wilderness and simply hounds
It is not the matter to be decided for man to man
It is dilemma and confusion and seen as common
We can definitely put it at rest as best as possible
The thoughts can be imposed or made forcible
Hate invites hate and inflames the passion
The ridiculous thoughts enter and make invasion
You tend to loose patience and become hostile
Situation may simply go out of hand and turn volatile
Love can be won over by giving more and expecting less
You may land in trouble and sometimes have to hide the face
It is not on reciprocal basis doesn’t turn into face saving
People turn differently and extra ordinarily turn in behaving
Ultimately everything boomerangs on us for doing so well
We create environment and make believe that it is turning into hell
We are the trouble shooter for no fault of others individuals
It is give and take arrangement and accepted it as mutual
It is agreed fact that mighty may win and weak may loose
What is right or wrong that one may have to choose?
No one may want to give or budge from his own stand
Even you can expect reprisals or surprise attack from own friend
Well, I decided to hate no other people but only self
Why at all I needed that friends or people should help?
Is it essential that every time you expect people to rush?
It makes us unhappy when they refuse for help and push
Why can’t I think that invisible enemy is sitting within?
Chances for winning over friends or people are very thin
It is formidable task and can’t be performed without fooling
You may then be under your toes and hills and feel no cooling
It will make you restless and compel you to think fresh
So many ideas may enter your mind as quick flash
A this stage you may go for quick way out or solution
Mind really picks up the signals for quick resolutions
So hate your own qualities and falsehood
Even you may unpopular in your neighborhood
It is time for introspection to share the blame
Try to find out own fault and never try to blame
You may carry the world as it is known where do you stand?
Who is your ardent lover foe or friend?
You may stand the taste of time and overcome
Troubles may come but you may stand fast and welcome
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Journey (feat. Lateef)
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days.
I can't stay home, I gotta keep movin,
I gotta keep doin', I gotta get out,
I gotta roam, it's somethin' that moves me,
It's somethin' that uses me without a doubt,
'cause somewhere abstract coincidence happens,
see someone in passin' while out and about,
next thing I know I'm happily travelin',
puttin' in action ideas that I mouth,
cause I speak it and do it, talk it and walk it,
I'm so bad about it, I shout it out loud,
but try to stay open, the forces in motion,
They keep me on course, it's just clear that i've found (?),
Imprissoned in flesh and reality's blesses,
that made manifest every woman and child,
I'll keep on expressin' reality's lessons,
explorin' my prison until I'm let out.
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
have me wonderin' all my days.
Travelin' East and West, on every known highway,
South to North carryin' that torch until I'm old and grey.
Well in the mean time inbetween I'm pushin' through this,
I said in the main time inbetween I'm on my duty.
Sometimes I get beat up, sometimes I'm the beater,
Sometimes man my feet hurt from walkin' so long,
Sometimes I'm defeated, sometimes I get cheated,
Sometimes I just need it, 'cause sometimes I'm wrong,
So the question's repeated, why even try?
When there's rocks in the road, pot-holes in the lawn,
The victory's sweeter when obstacles either,
Are side-stepped or crushed on the way to the door,
So I go on my own, have faith in the road,
I can share that control cause I'm never alone.
I hear the creator speak to me through wispers,
On winds the voices of friends and of foes,
I listen to omens, the things that he shows me,
Shows that he knows me and helps me along,
And follow him closely, where he goes mostly,
Guidin' my path on this map 'till I'm gone
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days.
And when they lay me down,
To rest in my Earthly grave,
And when they lay me down,
Navigate that big sky wave.
But in the meantime I, I got my duty,
In the meantime inbetween time I, I got to do this,
In the meantime inbetween time I, I'm pushin through this,
In the meantime inbetween time I, I got my duty.
I got my.. I got my, I got my duty. I got my duty I know!
song performed by by Fatboy Slim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Up And Disappeared
There has been a lot of listening missed,
That did not reach either your left...
Or right ear.
And I know there has been many attempts...
To reach you.
But you...
Refused to pay attention.
Since what was said you did not want to hear!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
But the only thing your stubborn held fits,
Has not understood...'and' 'that' you've dismissed.
Any understanding those few were willing to give,
Has up and disappeared with no regret shown for it!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kiss Me Quick
(words & music by doc pomus - mort shuman)
Kiss me quick, while we still have this feeling
Hold me close and never let me go
cause tomorrows can be so uncertain
Love can fly and leave just hurting
Kiss me quick because I love you so
Kiss me quick and make my heart go crazy
Sigh that sigh and whisper oh so low
Tell me that tonight will last forever
Say that you will leave me never
Kiss me quick because I love you so
Let the band keep playing while we are swaying
Lets keep on praying that well never stop
Kiss me quick just cant stand this waiting
cause your lips are lips I long to know
Oh that kiss will open heavens door
And well stay there forevermore
Kiss me quick because I love you so
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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