Sad To See
Giving up on a monotonous groove,
That has fused those stuck in a fading rut...
Has more than addicted.
And is a dilemma,
That has squeezed reality out of twisted minds.
Aging gracefully is definitely a crisis not yet faced,
For those in a mental mode locked and frozen in a zone...
That relays a remaining to stay unchanged is ok!
And not a sickness sad to see,
Afflicting so many without identity or integrity that matures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Wean And Break
In places,
Where most minds of people are stuck.
As if certain parts of their bodies,
Have been encased in braces.
With an aging done,
But no growing up is faced by anyone.
So much of what an adult does,
That goes sight unseen...
Is missed by the children.
And that which the children aren't made aware,
Reflects the despair.
In an uncaring, despair sharing environment.
And dependency becomes to be,
A difficult habit...
To wean and break away,
One's taste of it.
Ask any addict who has tried to resist.
In places,
Where most minds of people are stuck.
As if certain parts of their bodies,
Have been encased in braces.
With an aging done,
But no growing up is faced by anyone.
Dependency becomes to be,
A difficult habit...
To wean and break away,
One's taste of it.
Ask any addict who has tried to resist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Out Of Mind Travels
If one chooses to venture into the woods,
Without a guide and alone.
Because of pride one hides,
Without admitting a fear felt inside,
Condoned on one's own.
That choice to be made,
Is theirs alone.
And yet,
With a foolishness decides to continue...
By pushing concerned voices aside!
The experience of this,
Will either make one quickly grow.
Or quicken the end...
Of a stubborn mind that goes...bye bye.
Never to be comprehended or understood!
With a communication seen done publicly...
But,
With self throughout one's neighborhood.
Some people observed seem to enjoy,
These out of mind travels by themselves.
And stuck,
In a rut with the walls built up!
In a twilight zone to stay.
And stuck,
In a rut with the walls built up!
In a twilight zone to stay.
And stuck,
In a rut with the walls built up!
In a twilight zone to stay.
In a twilight zone to stay.
In a rut with the walls built up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Is Man A Winner Or A Loser?
Woman has a poof that the child is hers;
Man has no such proof to claim on the child.
She is cool with the child as identity.
He is desperate for his identity.
Identity crisis has disturbed him.
He invented marriage and chained woman.
He imposed chastity to mark his kids
And introduced patriarchal system.
Identity crisis has troubled him.
He assumed control over women.
He retained the progeny in his name
And made concubines to silence woman.
Identity crisis has worried him.
He bottled woman's skill and built up his.
He grew to be a Scholar. Sculptor and Poet
And assigned to woman the entertaining.
Identity crisis has bothered him.
He treated woman as her property.
He acquired family unfailingly
And labourd for its upkeep and status.
Identity crisis has bored him.
Water as she is, man could not cut her.
Tired of heat outside, man needed a shade
And sheltered himself in woman's coolness.
Woman treated man with due sympathy
With no fight with him for identity.
Her child is enough for her identity.
She helped him to anchor himself in her.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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No Matter What The Method Used
People refuse to pay what it takes,
To upgrade an aging and fading infrastructure.
But as soon as their lives become affected by reality,
They are the first to protest their own stubbornness...
With expectations someone answers their demands.
Prioritized with a giving to grant them immediate comfort.
Although time given like that has decades past.
And rushing to give it with patience had...
No one is giving it out like that,
No matter what the method used.
Or how one comes to ask.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Comforted In Ease
Appearances have kept them locked,
Into traps.
A physical existence,
Has made sure their minds...
Stay blinded like that.
Caught up and teased,
By what 'necessitates'...
A life of luxury comforted in ease,
They kill themselves for that.
And do it literally.
Appearances have kept them locked,
Into traps.
A physical existence,
Has made sure their minds...
Stay blinded like that.
And like bats living in caves,
Darkened to provide satisfactions intact.
Nothing outside of their programmed comfort zone...
Is going to convince them,
What they have is not 'owned'. It's just on loan.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A 'Cup' Full Of Sugar
With a 'cup' full of sugar,
Reality will be squeezed out.
A reality will be squeezed out.
Yes,
A reality will be squeezed out.
And with a 'cup' full of sugar,
Reality will be squeezed out...
In every hopeful,
Pain...
Less,
Way!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stuck On Pause
The biggest enemy we fight...
Is the inability to admit wrongs,
That are clearly not right.
Punishing the truth with ignorant stances...
Enhances the danger,
And defeats any chances...
To regain integrity lost!
It is the price paid,
For proceeding unswayed at any cost!
With a narrow mindset decreasing.
And the accomplishments gained,
Are flushed down the drain...
By those remaining obstinate,
In attempts to sustain a fading glory
Never to be reclaimed.
It's been lived...
Never to be the same!
Times drastically change...
For those minds stuck on pause!
Leaving options that were bountiful,
Burned to a crisp...
On bridges now flaming,
But once safely crossed!
And all who stood by watching,
Are now victims of their whims!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Identity Of I
Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me
Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about me, and what I identify
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
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My Narrative Today
My narrative today focuses on this...
A wish to meet more people of mental depth.
And aware of it.
The ones with identity and not in fear,
Of upsetting others with a correct pretentiousness.
I would like to meet those who have minds connected,
To something else besides themselves.
Or flaws and blemishes of others.
Maybe it is my aging process I am dealing with.
I listen more intently to every word not to miss.
And it seems today I overhear many expressing nonsense.
I can not believe these minds are free.
And they have chosen to be empty of thought,
With a seriousness to talk about nothing but materialism...
Sex and drugs and who cheats on who with a doing of it,
Just to use newly advertised lubricants.
My narrative today focuses on this...
A wish to meet more people of mental depth.
And aware of it.
There 'has' to be other ears and eyes observing this to witness.
And maybe they are like I am...
Looking on from the sidelines but keeping their distance.
And I understand this perfectly.
But it would be nice to have it validated by more who do agree!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Admitting to Admit The Truth
Your mind is stuck in a time zone.
Inadvisable it is...
To believe to keep it there is positive.
Your mind is stuck in a time zone.
These days are not going back.
If fact your beliefs are way off track.
Your mind is stuck in a time zone.
And it's unfortunate...
Your stubbornness wont allow you to see it.
Although you are stuck...
You are not alone.
And many like you,
Will just sit.
Not admitting to admit the truth.
Since delusions you've been fed,
Wont allow you to!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those of Childish Minds
Those of childish minds,
I had to sever and leave behind.
They no longer fed my views of life.
I had been hatched from adolescence,
Many years ago...
With an expanding insight.
Rehashing redundant deeds done I did...
I could no longer validate,
Those actions of adults that reminded me of kids!
I began to feel imprisoned,
By this useless activity for me I could not envision.
That began to smother my mental growth...
And its clarity,
Beginning to feel remote and provoked.
I had to sever and leave behind,
Those of childish minds.
They found routine attractive to them.
And within me routine was not meant to be.
I am an adult!
And others who are...
Is a rare find today by far.
Leaving me to wonder,
As my aging process flows...
How gracefully can those grow old?
And where do those of childish minds go,
When an age upon them obviously shows!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Stuck In A Warp, Zone
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.
Just stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To...
Never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
So far out they're looking down at stars.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Not one of them has heard of Jupiter OR Mars.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Sniffin', snortin', totin', weezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Hackin', coughin', chokin', sneezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.
Sniffin', snortin', totin', weezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Hackin', coughin', chokin', sneezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To...
Never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Just stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Just stuck in a warp,
Zone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Declining Forgiveness
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
With embellished insecurities...
Of memories flourished now gone.
Their mentalities are witnessed to be diminishing quick.
And within themselves,
They can not admit...
These times lived today,
Will not continue to permit...
An attention given,
To such stubbornly held sickness...
They have become riddled and sit with!
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
The challenges ahead requires a collective focus,
That has to exist!
To be drained emotionally by someone misfit...
Detaches an empathy!
With a declining forgiveness,
Decaying with it!
And a healing affect,
Will for all go neglected
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Proud To Exist To Witness Possibilities
I am glad I represent a generation aging.
With an acceptance to reminisce and reflect,
Upon the times I have been blessed to remember.
I am glad to be able to think with a thought process,
That connects with a wish to daily adventure.
And welcome a maturity I have earned.
With all that being conscious of it has to offer.
Although I will admit,
A loneliness when so many are dismissing...
There are phases of life that should be natural.
And understood with observations undenied.
And moving forward instead of backwards.
Or remaining down to earth unchanged.
As many aging with their delusions intact,
Would like to claim with a sameness of sanity.
But isn't that what stagnation is?
A stubbornness that is fixed in place.
With ways that begin to collect ignored dust.
And being stagnant and stale, unchanged...
Is something I don't consider fresh or impressive.
Or sparkles as if proud to exist to witness possibilities.
Not if one is to grow and experience what life is.
Or come to realize this adventure isn't here to last forever.
I am glad I represent a generation aging,
With an acceptance.
I am glad to be able to think with a thought process,
That connects with a wish to daily adventure.
And welcome a maturity I have earned.
With all that being conscious of it has to offer,
As a life I have learned to live...
To appreciate, explore and not take for granted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Many Gifted Drift On 'Ifs
Too many gifted drift on 'ifs'.
Unsatisfied with a life that's missed.
And this is what is reminisced...
When giving up on rhythm and reason!
To stay stuck in ruts they choose to live in.
Too many want to give up just lip.
Sitting to dwell in aging sentiments.
To waste every second someone gives them.
And puffing hot air about nothing!
A swift kick in the rear will motivate.
Rotating stale debates don't renovate.
Procrastinators hesitate in waste.
Initiating simulated movement faked.
Eliminating anything that takes...
Removal of excuses that create headaches.
With a towing of their moans they own!
Too many gifted drift on 'ifs'.
Unsatisfied with a life that's missed.
And this is what is reminisced...
When giving up on rhythm and reason!
To stay stuck in ruts they choose to live in.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reflection
I see my reflection…
In my aging parents.
They’ve grown so old.
The mirror tells me
It’s time to age
Gracefully…
If I look ugly,
There’s one consolation
My hubby will always
Love me.
(Poem themed on Aging)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Love is sought for identity.
To strive for love of mother,
of father, of teacher, of peers,
of elders, springs from
identity crisis.
To strive for love of the beloved
is out the deepest identity crisis.
Seers like women followers.
04.11.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Twisted matter
Twisted faces, twisted emotions,
Twisted past, twisted present,
Twisted future, twisted hopes
Twisted preaching, twisted action,
Twisted truth, twisted lie,
Everything is twisted and twisted,
O Lord, where is thy twist?
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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In The Shade of Fading Misrepresentation
Hey...
You can not still be there aging,
In the shade of fading misrepresentation?
That presentation has nowhere to go.
Even coverups are being unmasked.
Those tasks have been witnessed,
To be quite relentless.
There are no rainbows,
Thay will be forthcoming from those shadows.
Hey...
You can not still be there aging,
In the shade of fading misrepresentation?
If I can see you clearly...
You must realize how much of this life,
You are missing!
If I can see you...
Believe me when I say I have seen much change!
And you,
Obviously have not done either!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Were I Rich
I would like to stay gracefully beautiful
with no jewelry
with accepting the fate gracefully
the attitude
when anything goes down
it gives off its own beauty
when you accept yourself gracefully
you would see what you got
like sunset
and I would like to sleep well like a pearl