Seeking Misguided Perfection
As expressed.
Who can do it best?
One seeking misguided perfection?
Or the one who lives to witness,
And to write what is liked.
Not caring to fight with those,
Who are uptight.
Enclosed and wrapped,
In limitations to confine with explanations.
And dieing inside the correctness of standards,
And ideals.
While crying from shallow depths defined.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My Slate Is Clean of Miseries
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
And if I do have any enemies...
May they live an afterlife,
In a realm that's more acceptible.
I've wiped my slate clean of those miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've sliced and diced all that away from me.
And I wont slit my wrists...
To bleed in dripping pity!
There is a happiness in me increased.
With a peace of mind I own,
Straight from sorrows I'd adopted.
I've had to learn to be away from disease.
To figure my life out.
And weed away all nonsense,
From my reach.
There is so much joy seen in me that's deep.
'Cause my jaws are not uptight,
Looking for a fight.
No!
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
And none of that will chip away my peace!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peacocking To Flock Together
There is no apologizing that can be made to me,
For a publizing of my address...
In the heat of one's ignorance later confessed,
And I'm kept a prisoner...
By someone's rush to stupidity expressed.
People are quick to ignite their own storms.
To later admit they were thick-headed and impatient,
And expect a forgiveness for their foolishness...
At someone else's expense they must adorn.
There is no apologizing that can be made to me,
For a publizing of my address...
In the heat of one's ignorance later confessed.
That's capitalized B.S.
Underlined and followed by defined exclamation.
Everyday people step through fields of manure,
Seeking to blame someone for their actions.
With a seeking 'not' to self examine,
The lure of their own temptating ignorance...
Handed down from one generation to the next to ensure.
Everyday people show they can strip respect away.
With a doing of their own as if protected to condone.
No matter what they do to each other shown,
With a peacocking to flock together like misguided birds...
Bearing the same false feathers to flutter as heard.
'What about us? '
~What about it?
We only collectively gather together,
To express our own unified distrust...
We can not seem to elimiate from ourselves,
Or each other. What about 'us'...is there such a thing? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cinderella Bella
My outstretched arms surpass the point
Of normal, taxing every joint
By reaching, gasping, pulling in
The cloistered thoughts that lie within.
We meet in quiet, swathed in night,
Our bodies bathed in candlelight,
As words are whispered, sparsely spread
Between the bureau and the bed,
Where, skin-on-soul, our friction roars
While each of us, in turn, explores—
The vastness shuts—a shrink-wrapped world
Containing two, enclosed and curled
Together in contented bliss,
A rhythm set, no breath amiss
Within the syncopated shell
Of our imagined wishing well,
Which shimmers not with silver coins,
But softly gleams, as love enjoins,
With eyes awash in dancing hues,
A flashing mesh of browns and blues.
Our funneled gazes turn the lock
On earthly cares, to catch the clock—
11: 59—pre-chime,
Before it strikes our ending time—
Instead, we claim the lives we know,
The challenges, the chores, although
One day, with limitations gone,
Perhaps our dream will sidle on
Beyond the Cinderella toll,
Where, unencumbered, we could roll
Towards a truth, on steady wheels,
Of freer time, and new ideals.
poem by Bridgid Patrick
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Where Is The Caring Done
Where is the caring done,
Anymore.
And,
In what valley?
On what mountaintop?
And...
On what shore.
Tell me,
Where are those feelings felt?
Who deals with their emotions,
To conceal from everyone else.
Where is the caring done?
Where.
Why.
And who is it for?
A negativity given to experience,
Appearing as observed,
Never wins in the end
And gets defeated as deserved.
A kept faith with hope that's positive,
May be suppressed to be expressed.
But true faith felt...
Strengthens in in its power,
As one lives.
To be there to comprend when given,
As it is.
Where is the caring done?
It's there and it's done.
It is felt and it comes...
Eventually.
And never to stun,
Those patient in waiting faithfully.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abandoned Are Those Standards Claimed Valued
I remember when contradictions to ideals mentioned,
Were quickly dismissed.
And covered up to immediately hush.
With an ostracizing of those of tarted tongues.
Unafraid to expose what was seen unjustly done.
Long before profits became hot topics.
Well,
It seems today...
Everyone is deviant,
In some kind of inappropriate sexual way.
And in the darkest of closed closets.
With a molesting of minds to confine their deceits.
And to say these dysfunctional disturbing acts,
Have been going on for years behind those backs...
Quick to impose their self righteous 'philosophies' on others.
Denying those decadent touches practiced in private.
And abandoned are those standards claimed valued,
With a devoted faith shown publicly but not to be trusted as stated.
However...
Pure and pristine images are kept dignified to maintain,
With a censoring done to keep those 'ideals' left unblemished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at the ring around your finger.
I have only come here seeking knowledge,
Things they would not teach me of in college.
I cant see the best in me
That you saw
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
I will listen hard to your tuition,
And you will see it come to it's fruition.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then you'll find your servant is your master,
And you'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
You'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Since My Introduction
If I had not been misguided,
To right the wrongs I've done.
Acknowledge my mistakes.
Self examine my flaws...
And admitted I had heartbreaks,
I would not have the confidence...
To speak my mind.
And I would find myself,
Seeking acceptance to be who I am.
And it is only knowing who I am,
That has afforded me the opportunity...
To appreciate the caring less,
Of how I am perceived.
If I had not been misguided,
To right the wrongs I've done.
Acknowledge my mistakes.
Self examine my flaws...
And admitted I had heartbreaks,
I would not have the confidence...
To speak my mind.
And since my introduction,
Without outside confusion or seduction...
To corrupt my intent,
I will live with truth to pursue...
For the rest of my life!
Without needless dramatics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can I Get A Witness
(b. holland / l. dozier / e. holland)
Ah, listen everybody
Especially you guys
Is it right to be left alone
When the one you love is never home?
I love too hard
Yeah, my friends sometimes say
But I believe, oh I believe
That a boy should be loved that way
But it hurts me so inside
See him treat me so unkind
A-somebody, a-somewhere
Tell him it aint fair
Can I get a witness?
Can I get a witness?
Can I get a witness?
Somebody?
Is it right to be treated so bad?
When youve given everything you had
Keep on tossing in my sleep
cause I havent seen my baby all week
Now, you people you do agree
That this aint the way loves supposed to be
A-let me hear you
Let me hear you say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Up early in the morning
With him on my mind
Just to find out all night
That Ive been crying
But I believe, oh, that a boy is a girls best friend
So, Im gonna stick by him til the very end
But he caused so much misery
I forget how loves supposed to be
Somebody, somewhere tell him
It aint fair
Can I get a witness?
Can I get a witness?
I want a witness
Witness, witness, witness, witness
Everybody knows, especially you boys
That a love can be sad
But half a love is twice as bad
Now you people you do agree
That this aint the way loves supposed to be
Let me hear you
Let me hear you say yeah, yeah, yeah
I want a witness
Can I get a witness?
I want a witness
Come on, witness
I want a witness, hey
Come on, witness
I want a witness
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Insolence
You are wrong.
I do care what I say.
And where it is done I do it.
You are confusing what I say,
With...
When I say it and who is listening.
There is a difference, you know?
And I could care less about that.
You see...
People who may be offended,
And become uptight by my biting...
Were offended and uptight long before I arrived.
They are just attempting to make me an excuse,
To enable them to vent about their quality of life...
While having others believe,
My 'insolence' has tarnished their decaying standards.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Try to Deliver Those Lines
I try,
But sometimes deny...
Any attempt to do poetry justice.
I try,
To deliver those lines...
With exquisite meter and rhyme.
And with a subject that produces content.
Keeping within a topic that is well defined.
But there are times,
I am not seeking correctness when I express.
My mind isn't calibrated for premeditated stress...
To toil away in a standardize acceptance.
That is as difficult for me,
As knowing the difference between cheap and fine wine.
However...
If treated with a glass of champagne.
Everything I bring into creative focus,
Will take upon a poetic justice as I sip and uncover...
Justification for it.
I can then write about life and why birds fly.
Boots I perceived worn by the bees...
Since they do work in the thickets of pollen,
To get that honey whipped.
Or I could sit back and imagine mowing snow in the Winter.
As I observe someone bar-b-cue in a fur coat joking.
I try!
Especially when I write,
To do poetry justice.
But like Poe few would know...
If my best creations were enhanced by alcohol,
And I had been wasted.
Or if a sip of champagne is all it takes,
For me to awaken with a banging hangover.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Frustration Mode
I am not daring you at all!
I dare myself!
I wish to stretch,
From enclosed boundaries.
Those alone I have set.
You will have your opinions,
Of what you believe...
Should rise to a ceiling,
To achieve my best!
But how can you do this?
When I am still learning.
I am still there yearning...
As a work-in-progress.
I'm not thinking to compete,
In tests to win contests.
I am not daring you at all!
I dare myself!
I am daring to break molds.
Not be burden by limitations,
To satisfy expectations.
I must release from that kind of hold!
What you witness are my attempts...
And a relentless struggle,
With my own frustration mode!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Running Systems Failing
Usually they are the ones,
Who convince they have credibility.
The ones who have spent most of their lives,
In 'institutions' of higher education...
Learning.
Dripping with opportunities networked.
And how to perfect ideals and intellectualize common sense.
Hoping a combination of that AND research,
Will deliver answers to them as to how to cross the street...
Without the aid of lights or electronic signs,
When they have both malfunctioned!
And the information center on campus has closed.
'OH!
Why can't these things be plagiarized as well?
This cold cruel and bitter world.'
These are the folks who had been running systems failing.
Offering an abundance of pretense.
And they are the same ones who now say...
How great things were
When people relied upon their snob appeal,
To get them into galas.
To hobnob with those equally obsessed...
With standards of shallow emptiness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back To Front
Just come back where I came from,
Looks the same as somethings wrong.
And all my friends that used to be,
Have gone and turned their backs on me.
Everyones got different views,
Now Im all shook up and all confused.
East is west, left is right,
Up is down, and black is white,
Inside-out, wrong is right,
Its back to front and Im all uptight.
Ive just come back from fantasy,
Right back to reality.
Stayed away too long but now Ive found,
My world is turning upside-down.
I dont fit in but I dont stand out,
I should stay cool but want to shout.
East is west, left is right,
Up is down, and black is white,
Inside-out, wrong is right,
Its back to front and Im all uptight.
No one knows where I come from,
Who are you and what do you want?
Youve thrown away all that we had,
Its down the drain, its all gone mad.
The word is out, Ive seen the sign,
So you go your way, I go mine.
East is west, left is right,
Up is down, and black is white,
Inside-out, wrong is right,
Its back to front and Im all uptight.
East is west, left is right,
Up is down, and black is white,
Inside-out, wrong is right,
Its back to front and Im all uptight (alright).
Its back to front and Im all uptight (alright, alright, alright, alright).
Are you listening?
(no!)
Well then, Ill have to do it all over again!
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Boundless Is The Universe
Too boundless without a sighted barrier,
Is the universe.
And you expect me to accept,
In agreement...
Your limitations?
I do.
I accept 'your' limitations.
But understand this,
If you can.
Those limits are yours.
However...
Within them,
Do not come looking for me.
I am not seeking to please your comforts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Detroit Swing 66
Hello
Come in and get yourself something to drink
And tell me something I don't know about you
I'll tell you something 'bout me
Does it feel right
Like penetrating insight
Or blinded by the cuckoo with the hiccups
It's tricky to decide
I think I'm coming round, I'm seeing through the smoke
I think I'm coming round, I'm feeling signs of hope
Some water, some whiskey, some cigarettes or dope
I think I'm coming round, can you help me up to cope?
(Ooh, yeah yeah)
(Ooh, yeah yeah)
(Ooh, yeah yeah)
(Ooh, yeah yeah)
We're trapped in
Undergoing modernist sins
The probe cannot be driven through the kneecap
The kneecap will prevail here
So keep trying, prevent yourself from crying
You're shaking hyperventilated mish-mash
Made entirely out of bones
I think I'm coming round, I'm seeing through the smoke
I think I'm coming round, I'm feeling signs of hope
Some water, some whiskey, some cigarettes or dope
I think I'm coming round, can you help me up to cope?
I've been thinking one thing but doing something else in a daze, yeah
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I've been thinking one thing but doing something else in a daze, yeah
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
The peace pipe
Is flying round the bat's head
The hippies will be camping out tonight (Kum bye ah, my lord)
Singing Hari Kari (Adikhari)
And right now it's cooking up a storm now
It's intravenous terror en masse
Your spaceship has arrived (please get in)
I've been thinking one thing but doing something else in a daze, yeah
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I've been thinking one thing but doing something else in a daze, yeah
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I've been thinking one thing but doing something else in a daze, yeah
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
I'm trying to keep from getting uptight
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Changing
You look up at the sky
as you seem to notice
how she keeps changing
changing a different color
but no-one wants the blame
you will just leave it like this
she's only our earth, our mother
You keep on with progress
while she's slowly dieing
still you just don't give a damn
as you watch her crying
don't you think it's time
you need to give it a rest
you've done created such a mess
You close your eyes
so you won't have to believe
you just don't want to see
she don't mean a thing to me
I hear so many people say
look deep inside you
you're so damn naive
Nothing is left but ashes
in a dieing flame
we done let her burn
watched the whole place crumble
with your greed and corruption
still you never learn
Now is the time you need to realize
you need to change the damage done
before everything is gone
with your destruction
or just kiss it all good-bye
there won't be a new day
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd Like To See What Makes You Qualified
I am glad you are here to discuss my qualifications.
Now...
If you don't mind.
I'd like to see what makes you qualified,
To discuss mine with a revealing of your evidence.
And please...
Spare me those explanations,
About following your job description.
Never once have I had a position...
That did not take advantage of my abilities.
Once I expressed my capabilities...
That I needed not to embellish with exposed facts.
And if you are reluctant I will understand.
'Are you seeking employment?
Or do you want to run the place? '
I seek employment,
Of course.
However...
To prove myself to be competent,
Would offend too many people.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Examining Fashion
As long as a shallowness is fed...
A caring for those who sacrifice their lives,
For a right to keep division instead...
Is the mindset of those gluttonous.
And they could care less who is dead.
As long as a hollowness is kept inside,
With demonic wishes to abide that bleeds...
Those of these empty victories,
Feed deceit and greed.
And empathy expressed from them,
Is an expression not connected to feelings felt,
At all.
Not unless they see someone slip and fall...
In a shopping mall!
And even then they are examining fashion!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We have created indoor installations inside museums, like the Wrapped Floor at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago in 1968, and not monumental at all by any standards.
How Is That Connected to The Topic?
When public options are questioned,
In a society when one is said to have the right to vote.
And restricting limitations are accepted without hesitation.
The choices of heard voices are as effective as empty promises.
'I don't have to define what's on my mind,
If I know what I'm doing from time to time.
And explanations I need not to find! '
How is that connected to the topic?
'I am not the one in this conversation,
'Promising' to be understood.
I am not seeking others to provide my level of comfort.
I've already made my choice...
Regardless of who decides I should choose from options.
I've disconnected myself from that confusion.
Basic, simple and direct!
That's how I like it.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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