Refusing To Self Examine
I know this may be disappointing,
But we can not be anyone else.
We are here to be ourselves.
With little time to pass judgement on others.
But time is spent in the doing of it,
As if on a mission.
And that is why most of us become disappointed.
With a refusing to self examine our own blemishes.
Instead of sneaking to peek over someone else's fence,
To evaluate if in the doing of this...
We leave with a feeling to be or not to be impressed,
Without addressing or own activities.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Vituperative And Harshly Censorious
You tell others and say,
You are not impressed...
By those daily efforts of mine made.
And I say...
Where are your efforts to address?
Since you are quick to express your displeasure.
And then you wish to measure,
And evaluate time.
You want to vocalize how yours,
Is more important than mine.
You want to expose your excuses,
To reduce critique.
You want others to perceive,
Your opinions are sought.
As if this 'deed' is impressive enough to leave.
You tell others and say,
You are not impressed...
By those daily efforts of mine made.
But I am sure they've come to realize,
There is insecurity hidden,
Underneath your weak tirades tired and tried.
Expressed with intemperate, vituperative...
And harshly censorious language!
'Huh?
What did you call me?
What did you just say?
Did you call me 'stupid'? '
No!
Those affirmations I leave to you.
'Oh.
I'm glad you do.
Because those 'imaginations'...
Which they are not.
But if they were...
Would belong to me! '
Yep!
I totally agree.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Examination
Abolish examination.
And who are you to take examination?
Do you know whom to examine
And how to examine?
If you are so keen to take examination
Examine yourself first.
It is not easy to examine self
And pass the examination
scoring top.
Examine self while alone
Alone at night
Alone at bed.
Dare not examine others and
Dare not examine especially children.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Kept Boys
Kept boys,
Refusing to step...
Even for a few seconds away,
From playgrounds and corners...
Where they would mingle to stay.
On an everyday basis for years...
As time from them passed,
To leave their minds uncleared.
Kept boys,
Never growing to become men...
To begin that journey.
But instead taught to dropp their seed,
To impregnate from a selection of silly girls...
To pick and choose from whom they please.
Believing themselves then accepted...
And seen as men and women.
But men and women they will never be.
Kept boys,
Prison inmates and leeches...
Many down low and weak.
And impressed to follow images,
Gives them bragging rights to keep.
These kept boys are on a mission,
To remain in stuck manifested positions...
Cemented in stereotypes.
And validated by an environment,
That makes this decay alright to condone...
Mindless appetites in and outside broken homes.
Kept boys,
Refusing to step...
Even for a few seconds away,
From playgrounds and corners...
Where they would mingle to stay.
On an everyday basis for years...
As time from them passed,
To leave their minds uncleared.
And...
Reflects a tragicness permitted to exist.
With hopes if kept illuminated in deceptions cheered,
This will eventually portray generations of strength.
Representing a heritage of fools used,
To exist only to play upon themselves games and pranks.
As kept boys!
Never to be ranked with strength as men.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unpredictable
You do not know me.
And each time you and others,
Do your assessments...
You become disappointed,
By the results you get.
Something you discover,
Offends your beliefs.
But no time have you spent,
Connecting your assumptions...
To a specificness that exists.
You do not know me.
And each time you and others,
Do your assessments...
You become disappointed,
By the results you get.
And you find yourself in discussions,
With others who assess...
Beliefs addressed,
Which have been confirmed...
By the uselessness of whispered innuendos.
And it doesn't bother me one bit,
To know this tolerance you live with...
Defines your own existence permitted.
And I can see how you qualify me,
As unpredictable.
It is a relief and I thank you,
For that determination....
You have researched.
Perhaps next time you will approach me,
And together we can converse.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Time spent
time spend living is time spend loving
time spent loving is time spent feeling
time spent feeling is time spent lying
time spent lying is time spend telling the truth
time spent telling the truth is time spend living
time spent living is now time spent dieing in happiness
poem by Brian Biggs
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Peek-A-Boo
The cunningest thing that a baby can do
Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;
When it hides its pink little face in its hands,
And crows, and shows that it understands
What nurse, and mamma and papa, too,
Mean when they hide and cry, 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.'
Oh, what a wonderful thing it is,
When they find that baby can play like this;
And everyone listens, and thinks it true
That baby's gurgle means 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo';
And over and over the changes are rung
On the marvelous infant who talks so young.
I wonder if any one ever knew
A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
'Tis old as the hills are. I believe
Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;
For Cain was an innocent baby, too,
And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
And the whole world full of the children of men,
Have all of them played that game since then.
Kings and princes and beggars, too,
Everyone has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
Thief and robber and ruffian bold,
The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,
All have been babies who laughed and knew
How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Disappointing Daughter
Meet their disappointing daughter,
with her disappointing ways.
They would oh-so-love to humour her,
but it really never pays.
What's wrong with that girl, anyway?
She's always in a daze.
Why won't she join in with their games?
Her brother always plays.
It's not that they're ashamed of her -
but some of her displays -
and, let's face it, in public, too...
Such a disappointing daughter:
imperfect;
human;
got drunk when younger;
went out with a few dodgy blokes,
when younger -
such a disappointing daughter,
with her disappointing - unforgivably
disappointing - ways.
poem by Paula Puddephatt
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Part-time Lover
Call up, ring once, hang up the phone
To let me know you made it home
Dont want nothing to be wrong with part-time lover
If shes with me Ill blink the lights
To let you know tonights the night
For me and you my part-time lover
We are undercover passion on the run
Chasing love up against the sun
We are strangers by day, lovers by night
Knowing its so wrong, but feeling so right
If Im with friends and we should meet
Just pass me by, dont even speak
Know the words discreet when part-time lovers
But if theres some emergency
Have a male friend to ask for me
So then she wont peek its really you my part-time lover
We are undercover passion on the run
Chasing love up against the sun
We are strangers by day, lovers by night
Knowing its so wrong, but feeling so right
(repeat)
Ive got something that I must tell
Last night someone rang our doorbell
And it was not you my part-time lover
And then a man called our exchange
But didnt want to leave his name
I guess that two can play the game
Of part-time lovers
You and me, part-time lovers
But, she and he, part-time lovers
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Having No Time To Give
Why is it that those,
Once having no time to give to others...
Whether freely donating from their hearts or not,
Seem as if they have more of it.
With an abundance of time on their hands they have.
And the ones they had 'selected' then to share it with,
Could care less if they exist.
While the ones with the time,
Do their best to find something constructive to do.
Having spent most of their lives,
Addressing impressions and not a self worth.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Allowed This Disappointment
Hmmm,
Let's see!
If I am disappointed.
And you say,
You are disappointed.
And here we are listening,
To them express their disappointment.
Who allowed this disappointment,
To get 'this' disappointing?
'That's a good question!
Maybe those we elected to represent us,
Misunderstood it was not our disappointment...
We elected them to represent.
But instead...
To find solutions for the reasons 'why',
We were disappointed in the first place.'
You may have a point.
None of us really agreed to be freed of disappointment.
And we keep electing those to represent,
The best of our disappointments.
And this has never been what any of us wanted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Evaluate
Evaluate, Eve, at, eat, ate, tea, vat, vet, vale, veal, ale, let, late, leave;
Love is in the air and you have to be ready for it!
But many around are full of hate because of the very way that they wer brought up.
Evaluate, Eve, at, eat, ate, tea, vat, vet, vale, veal, ale, let, late, leave;
But try to evaluate yourself and don't be a wanderer on this earth!
For the heavens know who you are and you have to do the right things always,
Because, the days ahead of us are now full of the troubles of mankind! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mighty Fine Blues
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes indeed
Walk down any street
Pass the people you meet
What is it about this place that keeps you on your feet
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes indeed
Night is coming down
Closer to the ground
Gonna have a little fun while I'm still around
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes indeed
Don't believe the words they say to you when their soul's hurting
Don't believe a word they say about me because I'm feeling mighty fine
Think I gotta go
Think I'm gonna die
Oh my God somethings wrong
The end is coming near
because I'm
Feeling mighty fine
feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am, yes I am
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Time Does Pass
There are things we do
that are not funny at the time,
but as time moves on
and we re-examine them.
What a silly sod we were
and the incident that almost had
us pulling our hair out
had become something rather hilarious
as time does pass.
12 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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So Happy I Am 'You' Said That
I am not one to pass judgement, normally!
And those who do pass it with wild abandonment,
With a disregarding done of specific rules...
Disengaged from using practical 'sensitivities'.
I offer my judgement to pass on this topic...
The Art Of Effective Parenting.
'If a child is disobedient and disrespecting enough,
To cause headaches and problems intentionally.
AND runs away from home at a young age.
Gone for two years.
Only to be recently reported missing.
BUT...
Had been discovered using a false identity,
In a foreign country.
To have done this illegally.
And that child now cries with regret.
But that country she has been deported to,
Has restricted her activities.
And no sympathy from them does she get.
WHO should bear the brunt of the blame?
'Anyone who claims to be held accountable,
For her actions.'
Well...
That is not going to happen.
'Then this is a clear reflection on the parenting.
Often left to be excused.'
So happy I am 'you' said that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into An Existence Born
Looking through a lense,
Within an animation to be given choice.
And introspection to examine.
Into an existence born to serve a mission.
With a doing to complete,
While protected by specific direction.
Delivering messages to satisfy by demand.
And to follow as dictated...
Although the 'why' of this few understand.
Looking through a lense,
Within an animation to be given choice.
And introspection to examine.
But by 'what' or 'whom' is command of this?
'Not I',
Said the tool being used.
But not feeling foolish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stepped Out With A Greeting Of My Fate
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
Way pass mechanics,
With a seeing 'it' as it is...
And with examined antics that can panic,
Leaving those hopes on automatic...
Disappointing but coping,
With emotional deficits...
I feel I have an advantage.
Why bob for apples...
When from trees they can be picked.
Way pass mechanics and antics that can panic.
Why seek surprises...
From those hiding behind disguises.
No longer with automatic hopes,
To inspire lumps left in my throat.
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
Disappointing but coping,
With emotional deficits to leave to learn...
It is my life I must face.
I've stepped out with a greeting of my fate.
Disappointing but coping,
With emotional deficits to leave to learn...
It is my life I must face.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fantastic Is This Magicness
It's magic is,
Wrapped fantastic.
And efficiently preserved to eat.
Its magicness,
Is fantastic.
And fresh enough,
Whenever the need.
It's magic and wrapped fantastic.
And never to be used as one would please.
Leaving all a quality that's hard to believe.
It's magical,
And fantastic.
To satisfy like nothing could.
With the coulda wouldas wishing they understood.
Oh it's magical,
And fantastic.
To satisfy like nothing could.
With the coulda wouldas wishing they understood.
Fantastic is this magicness.
With the wannabees sneaking a peek.
Fantastic is this magicness.
With the wannabees sneaking a peek...
Wishing they could get a piece of this recipe.
Fantastic is this magicness.
With the wannabees sneaking a peek.
Fantastic is this magicness.
With the wannabees sneaking a peek...
Wishing they could get a piece of this recipe.
It's magic and wrapped fantastic.
And never to be used as one would please.
Leaving all a quality that's hard to believe.
Its magicness,
Is fantastic.
And fresh enough,
Whenever the need.
Its magicness,
Is fantastic.
And fresh enough,
Whenever the need.
Leaving all a quality that's hard to believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Difficult It Becomes Not To Diminsh Life
A mind that compares but is not there,
To evaluate or self examine...
Can not be held accountable,
For a thought process...
Those conscious expect and take for granted.
And those who are conscious,
Have discovered too few prepared...
With an awareness that has awakened,
To appreciate the benefit and value...
Of that which they have as a gift to nourish,
The broadening concept of comprehension.
A mind that compares but is not there,
To evaluate or self examine...
Can not be held accountable,
For a thought process...
Those conscious expect and take for granted.
With the shining of bling and other things,
Bringing into the mix the teasing of temptation...
So difficult it becomes not to diminsh life,
As an opportunity to feed our selfish whims.
With a dismissing of others,
Who do not join in with the fleecing...
Of a weakened and dieing golden lamb.
'It is not a dead horse.
No need to beat it.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Still Feelin' Blue
Time can pass and time can heal
But it don't ever pass the way I feel
You went away a long time ago
And why you left I never knew
The lonely days and lonely nights
I guess the world knows I aint feeling
right
And when your gone the hours pass so
slow
And now I'm still feeling blue
And baby since you walked out of my life
I never felt so low
Can't help but wonder why you had to go
There are many girls but I can't say
They come and go but still I feel this
way
And ever since the day you said goodbye
No one treats me like you used to do
I hope your out and happy now
And doing up the town 'cos you know how
Everytime I hear your name I want to die
And now I'm still feeling blue
song performed by by Kasey Chambers from Barricades & Brickwalls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Challenge Calls
Across Time’s wild uncharted seas
Challenge calls to innocence -
refusing safety on the fence -
acknowledging that time is breeze
vagrant and that each must seize
the moment when intelligence
cannot itself prevail through sense
too narrow, predefined decrees.
Through door unlocked, no need for keys.
Leave past regrets and vain expense
through calm, discover future tense
vibrating with tuned harmonies
which may combine both hopes and dreams,
choke compromise in its own schemes...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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