Seeking A Circus
Weeping,
Through conscious mistakes made.
With no immediate intent when processed...
May for some,
Be excusable.
However...
To place the blame on someone else,
Is a cause for payback.
Regardless what the expections,
To be delivered from remorse may be.
Weeping,
Through conscious mistakes made.
With no immediate intent when processed...
May for some,
Be excusable.
A child disciplined,
Eventually learns.
An adult lacking discipline...
Is a clown seeking a circus to entertain,
Behind a mask.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Deeds Done They Do To Leave
Don't you believe people make mistakes?
And should be forgiven for those they make?
'Sure.
I've made quite a few myself.
And not one did I make,
Was an intention to undermine someone else,
Consciously.
Nor did I,
With a premeditation done...
Inflict sorrow on anyone.
Those are not 'mistakes'.
That is a remorse received for a thing done,
Now bringing feelings of guilt and grief.
Feelings of guilt that brings one grief,
Is a payback.
And those are divinely distributed.
Mistakes can be corrected.
Heartaches and 'breaks'...
Are way beyond my jurisdiction to mend.
They require much prayer and faith.
And that is what I have relied on to keep my head up,
To protect from those of destructive forces.
So those who choose to say,
They should be forgiven for making mistakes.
And expect a forgiveness done...
Are 'consciously' approving their own devious activities.
That is the way I see deeds done they do to leave.
With expectations to continue their deceptions.
After an appropriate forgiveness has been delivered.'
Those are not mistakes.
And there is quite a difference.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Not
Conscious of structure.
Conscious of order, law and discipline.
Conscious of those to whom is given respect.
Conscious of tradition and ideals...
And the effect this has on one's mindset.
Conscious of a faith that goes much deeper,
Than the faking of an acceptance of rituals.
Conscious of life,
And the limits of it lived.
Conscious are those,
Who are aware that this life...
Is much more than it is perceived,
It is!
Since it is not what we have been led to believe.
And a consciousness of those conscious of this,
Is what has been received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Smile When It Rains
My mama was the first to teach me...
I can always be a better man.
And doing that at my own expense.
Never to forget...
God made me to wear the pants!
And 'if' I decided in my life,
To experience any aspect of change...
Challenging my brain.
Nothing conscious that I did,
Should to me be excusable.
If I was not prepared to stand tall...
Upfront and honest.
No explanations could I give.
And leave accusations alone.
'Always be a better man, my son!
Through clouds and thunder.
Be responsible and accountable.
No matter what the pressure you are under.
Even in your crawling with eyes glazed...
Be good at it!
And smile when it rains! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Miracle of Mistakes
For each adult who now stands tall,
How many times a baby’s fall?
The eloquence for which we reach,
Bought by a child’s stammered speech.
So not to err is not to walk,
And no mistakes would mean no talk.
Look deep in self for what it takes.
There’s no reward without mistakes.
To improve means being wrong
To find that place where you belong.
Upon arrival wisdom’s clear.
Mistakes have helped bring each one here.
For to learn is to fall,
Then rise again and give it all.
Each time that doubt interferes,
View the start of all your years.
Walks and talks could not take place
Unless mistakes helped carve their space.
From baby’s wisdom do confess.
With no mistakes there’s no progress.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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For Pity's Sakes
Oft in the stilly night, I wake
for no reason apparently.
Then I recall each past mistake
that I have made regretfully.
A self inflicted punishment
for wrongful deeds which I recall
Some hurt I caused without intent.
The guilt I felt still lingers yet.
I fall asleep eventually
my guilty conscience satisfied.
Allows me to sleep peacefully.
My past misdeeds are set aside.
I can’t deny I made mistakes
so do we all for pity’s sakes.
11-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Done With Intent
There is something to be said,
About being deeply hurt.
Doesn't it seem that those who perpetrate...
Are quick to apologize for their actions.
With no clue as to whose feelings have been attached.
Without a hint as to who has been affected,
By their...
'Oversight'.
If something is done intentionally.
It is done with intent.
To provoke.
And to inflict one's wickedness.
Only the blind would miss the intent of this!
Being apologetic for one's conscious misdeeds...
Still does not erase those acts that have taken place.
The victim is the one that should be forgiven,
And shown much gratitude...
For being blessed not to express a retribution.
And letting God handle it!
Showing this to be remarkable strength with faith applied.
And not retaliating like fools do.
There is an Omnipresent Deity...
Also doing with intent on more majestic levels.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Traces Of Their Tracks Left All Over The Facts
How can anyone conscious of a deed done...
Later admit,
They were not aware of it?
If honest mistakes are declared to be made,
By those who are consciously making them...
Most of the time.
Why are the ones unconscious,
Repeatedly denying...
They are 'not' incompetent.
When they have left traces of their tracks,
Left all over the facts!
And...
Supported they are,
By those who continuously make...
Honest mistakes!
How much of reality is, indeed, faked?
With no one held accountable,
For a quality of life watched fading away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Is She Conscious
Is she conscious
Is she really wide awake?
Is she conscious
Of her beaatiful mistake?
Is she conscious
As she moves among the crowd?
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Is she asleep or just afloat?
Is she conscious
Of the letter that she wrote?
Is she conscious
Of the music in her ears?
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
As she moves across the room?
Is she conscious
Of the weeping of the moon?
Is she conscious
As she leaves the door ajar?
Is she conscious
As she gets into the car?
I dont even wanna say her name
I dont even wanna say her name
Thats all
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
Thats all
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Of the chauffeur as he drives?
Is she conscious
As the ambulance arrives?
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is She Conscious
Is she conscious
Is she really wide awake?
Is she conscious
Of her beaatiful mistake?
Is she conscious
As she moves among the crowd?
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Is she asleep or just afloat?
Is she conscious
Of the letter that she wrote?
Is she conscious
Of the music in her ears?
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
As she moves across the room?
Is she conscious
Of the weeping of the moon?
Is she conscious
As she leaves the door ajar?
Is she conscious
As she gets into the car?
I dont even wanna say her name
I dont even wanna say her name
Thats all
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
Thats all
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Of the chauffeur as he drives?
Is she conscious
As the ambulance arrives?
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Do Make Mistakes
Sometimes people do make mistakes.
I've made some.
And who has not made a few?
But not knowingly at the expense of others.
And those who excuse these activities done,
As errors made unconsciously...
With proclamations for a wish to be forgiven,
Need to know how it feels to receive payback.
Directed and unmistakable.
And inflicted with the ease in which they were made.
With a consciousness applied and lessons taught.
To awaken anyone daring to use these excuses in the future.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Intent Of The Heart
i've made mistakes
in my life that have
hurt a lot of people....
i want to make sure
that what i'm doing now,
helps a lot of people.
it begins with admitting
and taking ownership
of my mistakes...
walking in forgiveness,
forgiving others, and myself,
as i go....
making every step count....
fully aware of the motives
behind each action....
fully aware of the weight
of every thought and word.....
of the responsibility we share
for and to each other.....
and to the earth.
freedom sweats,
compassion bleeds....
the truth is no further
than the intent of the heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXIX: In Their Eyes
You don't intent to be modest
You don't mean to say those white lies
You just don't want to be judged bad in their eyes
You don't intent to be friendly
You don't mean to chat a long
You just don't want to look ugly in their eyes
You don't intent to be strong
You don't mean to show power
You just don't want to lose control in their eyes
You don't intent to be brave
You don't mean to take the role of hero
You just don't want to appear weak in their eyes
You don't intent to be obedient
You don't mean to do all the orders
You just don't want to be considered a threat in their eyes
You don't intent to be professional
You don't mean to follow the rules
You just don't want to be seen indifferent in their eyes
You don't intent to be kind
You don't mean to give a help
You just don't want to raise suspiciousness in their eyes
You don't intent to be generous
You don't mean to be involved in any relation
You just don't want to be outsider in their eyes
You don't intent to be honest
You don't mean to tell the truth
You just don't want to be the one who should be responsible in their eyes
You don't intent to be forgiving
You don't mean to forget every mistake
You just don't want to be called cruel in their eyes
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Beauty is holistic
Be clean; you are conscious of skin.
Do yoga; you are conscious of body.
Do prnayama; you are conscious of energy.
Do meditation; you are conscious of mind.
Being conscious of it is strengthening of it.
Then which woman can resist you?
12.08.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What Heppened To Laughter?
What Happened to Laughter?
What I miss the most not being a child, is its exuberance.
The easy tears and laughter, to jump up in the air for no
reason at all other that it gave a dizzying sensation.
I loved to go to circus, laughed uproar sly at the clown
and admired the lion tamer with his whip.
These days a clown’s mask is an unfolding tragedy and
animals should be free to survive or die in the wild.
But I still hanker for the days of innocence which is so
utterly lacking in morality. Now I seek refuge behind
irony a place where to hide my tears and hilarity.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Children
Wonder, children wonder, but it seems that from an early age it is knocked out of them. Conformity overrides possibilities and even reality slowly starts to ascend in their mind as they are processed through the systems, in fact conformity becomes reality. No wonder that wonder slowly and then completely looses its place. Children's freedom to see new possibilities, to invent knew worlds, knew universes is increasingly viewed with suspicion as they age. Even more devastating to the processes of wonder, is the self righteous way we as adults invalidate children's seemingly preternatural ability to know where adults are coming from, to even punish children because they see and say that the emperor has no clothes on. Their natural ability to know others emotional states and to sense when adults are imposing their darkness upon them and others is far superior to our own in many or most ways; until we force them to see through are own adult processed perception. We would be wise to learn from them instead of trying to control them. The experience should be two ways. This is the best way to keep wonder alive while teaching children to understand them self and the world around them. This takes courage for us adults.
As we know, children do not know their place, they are adept at seeing through adult pretenses, masks, false identities, roles, games, hypocrisy, we are so busy shoving our own way of processing the world down their throats that we forget to wonder with them, to be with them. We become fearful of seeing things through their eyes, through the eyes of the child we once were. Darwin, Einstein, both were precocious, slow very slow in their maturity and unable and unwilling to conform, they such as so many other had a prolonged childhood, and a lasting child like way about them, the wondered.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Living My Life
I’m living my life the way I want to
No one’s going to tell me what to do.
I’ve got to make my own mistakes
And if it’s wrong then it’s my fate.
You’ve already lived your life and like most
Mistakes you’ve made quite a few
That is what we all seem to do.
I’ll make mine so I can’t pass the blame
And I’ll hang my head in shame.
I am young and a teen, and there is
So much in life to be seen.
I’ll make mistakes, I know that’s true
But it’s something that I have to do.
I love you mom and dad, and I know you care
But you can’t live my life
It’s just not fair.
You should know for you went through the same
And on your parents “ did you pass the blame? ”
The dress, the talk, the way we look at life
We do not think about it once or twice.
We just do what’s in that style
And we’ll grow out of it in a little while.
Trust your children “ mom and dad”
For your future is our plan.
poem by Louis Rams
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Just Because Im A Woman
I can see youre disappointed
By the way you look at me
And Im sorry that Im not
The woman you thought Id be
Yes, Ive made my mistakes
But listen and understand
My mistakes are no worse than yours
Just because Im a woman
So when you look at me
Dont feel sorry for yourself
Just think of all the shame
You might have brought somebody else
Just let me tell you this
Then well both know where we stand
My mistakes are no worse than yours
Just because Im a woman
Now a man will take a good girl
And hell ruin her reputation
But when he wants to marry
Well, thats a different situation
Hell just walk off and leave her
To do the best she can
While he looks for an angel
To wear his wedding band
Now I know that Im no angel
If thats what you thought youd found
I was just the victum of
A man that let me down
Yes, Ive made my mistakes
But listen and understand
My mistakes are no worse than yours
Just because Im a woman
No, my mistakes are no worse than yours
Just because Im a woman
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clown In Waiting
Everyone has a funny story
that has happen to them.
I have quite a few
which makes me a clown in waiting.
At the time they were not funny,
however looking back now
the embarrassment has gone
and years have passed.
You think why did I do that?
It was probably immaturity
or being over zealous
that those silly mistakes were made.
Now as you sit down with friends
and talk about years gone by.
You recall these funny stories,
giving everyone a damn good laugh.
You smile to yourself,
hoping you don’t make mistakes like that again.
You know you will
as you are a clown in waiting.
23 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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My true story about myself
People stop ordering me around. I am only one person, yet you treat me like I am twelve people. I can only do one thing at a time. I am sorry I am really slow. I am only a child, I'm still trying to be kid while I have a chance. But, you see you people give me the responsibility of an adult. I am tired of ruining my plans, to do adult things. I don't want a perfect childhood but I would like a nice one where I would be able to do teenager things. I want to be a normal child, even if I am not. You people are driving me crazy with all these do this, do that. I'm sorry, but if this a normal childhood, I rather be dead. I feel like that when I try to talk nobody could hear me. I could scream and nody would hear me. I am invisable. Besides who would want to see a girl who has no mother, a father she never sees, who is a nobody, who can't make a difference, who is hideous, who can't do anything right, who is ashamed for everything she is? Sometimes I think about killing myself, actually I do it a lot. It's just I am so tired of being used. I am used one way or the other. I always wonder what would happen if I die. Would anybody care? Would anybody even notice? NO! Yes I know I made mistakes. but isn't the point of life, is make mistakes and learn from them. I know I made a lot, but I would never take any of them back. I don't care anymore about what other people say. I am just so tired of this. I can't live like this much longer. There has to be a change, and quick. To tell you the truth, I even thought about running away. I don't know where I would go. I do know is that I would never return. I'm sick of having responsibility of an adult, and everybody tells me to be a kid. HOW? When I'm constantly cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, school, school, homework, cleaning, cooking? Can I please have a break once in a while. I am begging you. What did I do to deserve this? I think I have a right to know.
poem by Makayla Straight
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Ludicrous Undertaking
Few accept their differences.
Or even respect similar philosophies.
For some reason there is enjoyment expressed,
In disagreeing just to disagree.
But not trying to see eye to eye,
When a future depends on it...
Is a ludicrous undertaking.
With a weeping done in the making.
The pointlessness of it...
Has ended any reason to find this humorous.
Or excusable innocent fun.
And to maintain a focus on this,
Is as serious as children defending themselves...
With weapons to kill a perceived adversary.
And equipped with video games that advocate the usage.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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