Silkened Tongues
Father...
The spreading of false sincerities,
Have many slipping faced down in BS!
Of course we are in the midst,
Of this 'blissful' season.
Some folks are overdosed,
With more BS than the rest.
Displaying silkened tongues...
That before lashed out venom.
They make attempts to disguise,
The evil within them.
And Father...
I thank You!
For helping me see through,
Their wicked deeds they 'still' pursue!
And after the new year is over and done...
These same folks will begin to display,
Their fangs...
To everyone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
I've Heard Those Old Stories Told
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
I've heard those old stories told,
About what folks have done...
To make my life easy and comfortable.
Especially told to others who did not know.
And who did what...
When I got myself into ruts.
'God...
I am so glad You know the real deal! '
And I wonder 'who' that might have been?
That came to my aid when I needed them.
Hmmm...
It's true,
I have had folks give me 'things'.
And money loaned I paid back.
I've had people to me make promises.
And I remember every one of them broken...
From the time I was a kid!
Hmmm...
I can't remember anyone,
Motivating my moves!
Only You,
My Father.
I could say my entire life has been spent...
With me doing the giving.
And to a degree that would be true.
Since several people I have known...
Have told lies.
That's all they did and still do.
And I use to listen to a whole lot of BS.
With attempts I made to correct some mess.
Do I now?
No!
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
And the biggest lesson I have learned to date?
Do not hesitate in the waiting of others to approve!
You'd be a dried up old prune in the doing.
If you've been blessed with a gift,
You better give it and be done with it!
And let whoever say whatever!
Give folks who gossip some fuel,
To keep their lips moving.
And doing something bizarre...
While you're at it!
Learn to live without restrictions and limitations.
You and your time are not defined by those mindless.
Unless you let it!
Then whose truth do you ultimately live?
It wont be mine because I have my own to live!
Although I do give folks credit where it is due.
Like being witnesses...
To the gifts God has given to me.
That's it!
Anything else folks would like to claim...
Did not occur on my watch.
But I do understand,
Why some folks like to associate themselves...
With those who struggle through and win,
Their battles and conquer over grief!
Thank You God, Almighty!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Murdered By Their Tongues
Threatened by a mentalness,
That spreading gossip did.
And murdered by their tongues.
Whatever between them did exist,
That ruined their happiness...
And long loving relationships,
Has been murdered by their tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Abandoned good deeds are left undone.
In big numbers.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some people had to run...
To find their comfort.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some choose to begin to run...
To find their comfort,
And unencumbered by the numbers.
They've been murdered by their tongues.
Stubborn these people,
Who've been murdered by their tongues.
Unconscious people,
Who are murdered by their tongues.
These fools are equal,
Who will murder anyone with their wicked tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some people had to run...
To find their comfort.
Threatened by a mentalness,
That spreading gossip did.
And murdered by their tongues.
Whatever between them did exist,
That ruined their happiness...
And long loving relationships,
Has been murdered by their tongues.
They've been murdered by their tongues.
Stubborn these people,
Who've been murdered by their tongues.
Unconscious people,
Who are murdered by their tongues.
These fools are equal,
Who will murder anyone with their wicked tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some choose to begin to run...
To find their comfort,
And unencumbered by the numbers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Up Close and Vivid
There was a time,
I loved agitating.
Just to see different expressions,
Shown on people's faces.
Coming close,
To aggravation.
I knew my limitations.
I had gone to school to learn body language.
Interpersonal Communication.
And studying 'where' folks' feelings were.
You know...
Probing from afar.
Seeking to discover...
With just observation.
Who was disturbed...?
Who was emotionally disconnected,
And unnnerved.
And just 'who' was crazed?
Living on the edge...
Seeking to escape the maze of life.
Only to discover my own paranoia!
Today,
Few people are trying to hide their disgust!
Some are outright enraged.
With attempts to masquerade an outrage...
Many caring less,
If that it is shown on display!
And I am not quick to agitate...
For experimental purposes.
Not today!
Too many folks have venom in their eyes.
And I've learned to do what I've been trained to do,
From my early days of schooling.
I either wear my sunshades.
Or talk to myself!
Choosing to fit right in!
But I don't have to take notes today...
Too much of this 'stuff' is up close and vivid!
And I rehearse ducking...
Just in case a wild punch is thrown,
On its way to pay a personal visit!
These are not the times,
For one to blindly unwind...
To share false pretensions.
Too many folks are easily provoked.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Felt Insulted
I once did a task,
I thought would make others pleased.
I accomplished this with sacrifice...
Hoping this would elevate their priorities.
But they were of limited mindsets.
A bigger picture they could not see.
And one day I got a knock on my door.
From two who came to say...
'We appreciate your efforts.
And the quality of your deeds.
If you want us we are here,
To take you where you wish to go.
To hand out some flyers to promote us...'
Excuse me?
Say what?
You've come to do that,
So I can advertise your abilities?
And accomodate 'my' needs?
For 'me' that is what you will do?
So I can continue to observe you sit?
And watch you eat on my time too?
I felt insulted.
They had no clue as to why!
So I closed the door.
On them and that project...
I said a final goodbye!
And they wanted to get paid.
With a few tickets they sold.
And with lesser time spent,
To promote themselves made!
These Negroes were bold.
They had no clue as to why,
I felt insulted.
So I closed the door.
Not to re-open it again!
On them and that project...
I said a final goodbye!
'When folks begin to take advantage...
Disadvantage your input,
From those who do the taking.
And be sure the time you take for yourself,
Is for you to make better use.
And no one else!
Disadvantage your input.
Make some time for yourself.'
I have.
And I thank You, Father.
That was well stated!
'Thank you!
You are too kind! '
You think?
'Well...
I think your desires to assist others,
Within a certain creativity...
To get them to feed themselves,
Is a bit ambitious!
You know how some folks can be,
When they perceive these things.
As if they do 'you' the favor!
And trust me...
Everytime I hear them in prayer,
I understand what you mean!
I gotcha back, bruh!
Don't feel like the lone ranger,
Kimosabee!
Me see with eyes clear,
As I gaze upon the horizon.
Fixed I am...
In your heart and mind.
In this hemisphere...
And beyond, all the time! '
Father?
'Yes, My son.'
Why is it, Father.
You seek and go for the dramatics?
'You know they are from Detroit? '
WHO Father?
'The DRAMATICS!
What and 'who' are you talking about? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Not There
Some folks don't and wont get it.
What has been said to them or done.
A thorough and complete programming instilled...
Has been fed and eaten,
By nearly everyone.
What some may see as bleak...
As their false foundations have been shakened,
From beneath their feet.
Others view this as opportunities to dismiss conflicts.
To begin to fix those divisions that have kept folks hiding,
Behind nonsense and their foolishness.
But some folks don't and wont get it.
What has been said to them or done.
A thorough and complete programming instilled...
Has been fed and eaten.
By nearly everyone.
And the ones who have awakened,
With a consciousness prepared.
Are very reluctant to share what is known!
Since a clarity in the eyes of most...
Is just not there!
With a promise it is coming to be shown,
To make an appearance anywhere!
Anytime,
Soon!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Is Not Stressed
Whatever was done,
Had been demeaned and declared as easy.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
Simple were his deeds considered.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
And criticized for his desires,
To obtained success.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
But that was yesterday!
Today...
He is not stressed at all!
Nor overly protective,
Of an investment,
Others made at a loss in pretentiousness.
And again he finds himself,
Blessed to be ahead of the rest!
And sharing a happiness...
For him that has been cost effective!
And those folks back 'then'...
In 'those days' they could not leave,
Are still there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Alms For The Poor. Alms For The Poor
'Alms for the poor.
Alms for the poor.'
Is this a new gimmick their using?
Isn't it a bit early to be dressed,
Like characters from a Charles Dickens' novel?
It's not even Halloween yet.
And those folks are dressed is if prepared,
To sing Christmas Carols.
~Well...
I'm not one to be cynical about these things.
Or quick to express a saccharine sentmentalism...
For those I see appearing in Victorian costumes,
This early in the season.
But I will say this...
Whoever advised them to come to this side of the 'hood',
Dressed like that...
Begging? Or whatever that is they are doing,
Has got to be the best salesman 'ever'.
Or...?
Consider this observation,
Those folks are pushing something discovered better than crack.
And they've come to the 'hood'...
To test this new taste of Christmas in October.
To get folks hooked and as high as possible,
To care less what holiday season is near.~
LOL
~Don't laugh.
I remember when 'arms for the poor' meant a soliciting.
Those folks have buckets in their hands,
Painted with pumpkin faces on them.
With their arms stretched out.
Offering samples of whatever is in them.
And...
Dressed in Victorian costumes.
At this time of the night in the inner city?
That doesn't make you suspicious? ~
Comeon.
What's so unusual about it?
They've come to display their charitable natures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mom Said 'Remember Them
The childless, Father remember them
they are termed barren
the subject-matter of in-laws
the meal of their evil tongues
remember them.
The single ladies, Oh Father
it's their will to have family
a husband and children
but it ain't their wish to be single
remember them.
The widow, My Father
give them love they miss
their integrity is questioned
their cries, watch it father
remember them.
Those your daughters, Father
facing intimidation
them: street's laughingstock
they have no peace in heart
shame on them can't be bore
remember them FATHER.
poem by Fate Mcfate
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Father
Father I come to you with open arms, wanting to feel your spirit.
Place my feet on Holy ground, open my ears to hear your glorious sound. Open my eyes so I will see, take wasted fear away from me.
Father give me the hope I need to survive, allow me many years to stay alive. Father you are the one I truly love, please send me your blessings from above.
Father walk with me, see me through, I’ll always keep my trust in you. Forgive me Father you know I’ve sinned, a little tap perhaps
upon my chin.
Father I’ve listened to those with false charm, placing myself in the way of harm. Thank you for being in the midst, with open
arms and a Heavenly kiss.
Father when the night is lonely and the tears come through, I desperately need to think of you. Please take away all the strife, allow me to enjoy my life.
Father when I’m weak and meet many a stumbling block and can’t make sense of here nor there, then take me Father, far away, so I may start a brand new day.
Father I ask this prayer in the name of your son “Jesus Christ” our living Savior, sweet, sweet Jesus.
Written: Oct.6,2007
poem by Melvina Germain
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No One Can Separate Us Ever
You know I love You...
And would never place anything else,
Above You!
YOU are My Father,
I am Your son.
Without question...
Those doubts have gone from me.
Eternity with You is my destiny!
I view Your creations with eyes opened,
And cleared of delusions that once sat
Upon my troubled mind!
I know Your power...
And it would be senseless to believe,
I am not part of it!
All the time with me You visit!
When I sit masquerading with things to impress...
I know I have distanced You from me,
And that leads to my duress...
As I make attempts to surpress,
With depression on a heavy chest!
That once kept me stressed,
To defeat my very best...
Attracting woes and unhappiness!
YOU are My Father,
I am Your son.
Without question...
And without hesitation,
I know I can come to You, My Father
To demand obstacles on my path be removed!
I want to prove my faith with every step I take.
I am here on this Earth to do Your will!
I've emptied myself of evil deeds of others...
And druthers they have,
They would love to see me fulfill!
I'm not having that tax me...
Like the strife of daily living,
Or witnessing others who live unforgiving.
YOU are My Father,
I am Your son.
Without question...
And without doubt,
I know You are there...
To help remove all sorrows or 'bouts'
Of struggles I fight that might incite my despair!
I am too aware You are there,
And everywhere I cast shadows!
YOU are My Father,
I am Your son.
Without question...
And no one can separate us,
Ever!
You know I love You...
And would never place anything else,
Above You!
YOU are My Father,
I am Your son.
Without question...
Those doubts have gone from me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Labels!
they call us poor white folks
'white trash'....
they call poor black folks
'niggers'....
they call poor Hispanic folks
all kinds of names,
'illegal' being the worst!
labels...
people who have too much
at the expense of the rest of us...
well insulated ignorance...
hatreds, that begin with hatred
of the self!
we're not labels!
we're just folks....
breathing, working, dreaming,
trying, doing the best we can....
we deserve the dignity
of being treated as human beings....
labels... hell no!
i'm not your boy, not your slave,
not your inferior...
i am human!
treat me as such!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Remembering My Father
I had a father,
Honest, strong principle,
I had a father,
Though not invincible,
He is a father who truly cares,
I had a father,
Who always shares.
Whatever he did,
He did for family,
So remember his deeds,
Honor your father regularly.
Little Devotional
Well I'm blowing smoke out of your window
And you're slipping back into your dress
You know you were always such a lady
I've always been impressed
But gentlemen
They don't ask questions
Just keep quiet
She'll pay attention
Gentlemen don't ask questions
We could pay attention
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Well I pictured you in blue
But I have to say I'm more partial to the red
Deep, dark, and devastating
Leaving no question as to where you've been
I calm the crowd by keeping quiet
Move like a shadow up to your matress
Gentlemen don't ask questions
We could pay attention
Do you think he'd be better ('Cause we're down for competition)
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better (This could all be on purpose)
Doing what I do best?
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Do you think he'd be better
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better ('Cause we're down for competition)
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better (This could all be on purpose)
Doing what I do best?
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers.
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anybody who runs for president in this country and comes out as strong as the Democrats were about helping the poor folks and black folks is not going to win.
quote by Charles Evers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I see it as one of my jobs to make sure that, it sounds ridiculous, but to make sure the folks are eating, make sure folks are getting enough fluids, make sure folks are, you know, comfortable in the orbiter.
quote by Duane G. Carey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Makin' Whoopee
Another bride
Another June
Another sunny - honeymoon
Another season
Another reason
For makin' whoopee
A lot o' shoes
A lot o' rice
The groom is nervous
He answers twice
It's really killin'
That he's so willin'
To make whoopee
Picture a little love nest
Down where the roses cling
Picture the same sweet love nest
See what a year can bring
He's washin' dishes
And baby clo-othes
He's so ambitious
He even sews
But don't forget folks
That's what you get folks
For makin' whoopee
He's washin' dishes
And baby clo-othes
He's so ambitious
He even sews
But don't forget folks
That's what you get folks
For makin' whoopee, whoopee, whoopee-ee
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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