So and So
Do you know those folks
Who will ask others questions
About you?
And when you see them...
They have nothing to say.
In fact...
They may walk away.
Pretending not to see you at all.
Then someone gives you a telephone call,
To say 'so and so' just asked about you.
And you had just seen 'so and so'...
When 'so and so' gave you much attitude!
And these are the folks who spread rumors,
About you not wanting to speak!
Blaming you in their gossip they do.
That's why it is best,
To associate with just few.
If a happiness you wish and nurture...
Is going to be pursued!
Keeping that to yourself...
And protecting it too!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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They Know That They Don't Know
They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.
They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.
And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!
Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Started Rumors On Myself
It dawned on me...
Several years ago,
That there were folks
In actual discussions
About 'who' I 'was'...
And 'what' I did!
And vice versa!
As 'if' the court had appointed them authorities.
But then again...
You would have to be exposed,
To the environment I currently live in.
One would think,
These folks live just to get up to gossip!
Or look out of the window!
Well anyway,
As I was sayin'...
It dawned on me...
Several years ago,
That there were folks
In actual discussions
About 'who' I 'was'...
And 'what' I did!
And vice versa!
Believing any of that was their business!
Well...
I fixed that!
Yes I did.
I started rumors on myself!
Yes I did...
However,
They weren't the best!
One I heard...
Was so boring,
The person that passed it...
Made attempts to juice it up!
And it 'still' was tired!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Based Upon Materialistic Concepts
I can not call my breathing a hobby.
Nor do I relate,
To those who associate creativity...
To a dollar bill.
And there are many like that.
Attached to things.
Disconnected spiritually...
To any talents or gifts,
To them God brings!
When asked how much I 'make'...
I get irate with folks like that.
And those who say they have no time to create...
I know right away,
With them I do not relate.
And those who say they have faith in God...
To only admit,
They do not accept God given talents,
Are their main jobs.
I have limited patience.
Knowing from them,
I can only expect a production of excuses.
Based upon materialistic concepts.
And as I age...
From folks like this,
I wish to keep my distance.
And God kept pleased!
Since He is the only One,
To know where I come from.
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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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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So Nothing Is Done
Do you get the feeling,
That it doesn't matter who says what...
About anyone or anything anymore.
This seems especially true...
In small towns with nohing but gossip,
For folks to value.
The more things change...
The less those who desperately need to change,
Do!
Even in big cities,
There are small minded folks!
And...
The mindsets of small town folks,
Will be guaranteed to be left reliably...
Small minded and uninvolved.
But yet upset with 'them'
Because 'they' don't 'act' like they care,
About their problems.
Those who sit on stoops...
And/or push baby carriages,
Around the blocks where their babies fathers,
Stand.
Seeking tips on good luck,
To dropp in their pockets!
They have suffered from under the rug swept stuff...
These folks!
With claims to have problems...
That have been historically ignored,
By those praying to God for solutions.
And when they come...
They don't like what has to be done!
So nothing is...
Done!
It just decays!
And folks find ways to celebrated it.
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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WHAT FOLKS DID(for Lyn)
She was born
into a world
without telephone...television
motor car or aeroplane
“all the damn modern things”
she never did get used to
even when they invidiously invaded her life.
Even now
in her little one room flat
at the end of her life
she berates the telephone.
“It just rings and...rings! ”
She loudly complains.
“And that’s why I don’t answer the thing! ”
“It won’t...leave me alone! ”
I ask her
with laughter
what did folks do
without these things
how did they get by.
“What did folks do? ”
She sighs
as if telling a child:
“We used to...love one another! ”
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Some folks rail against other folks, because other folks have what some folks would be glad of.
quote by Henry Fielding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devils Radio
Devils radio
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
I heard it in the night
Words that thoughtless speak
Like vultures swooping down below
On the devils radio
I hear it through the day
Airwaves gettin filled
With gossip broadcast to and fro
On the devils radio
Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah
Hes in the clubs and bars
And never turns it down
Talking about what he dont know
On the devils radio
Hes in your tv set
Wont give it a rest
That soul betraying so and so
The devils radio
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
(oh yeah) gossip, (gossip) oh yeah
(gossip) oh yeah, (oh yeah) gossip
Its white and black like industrial waste
Pollution of the highest degree
You wonder why I dont hang out much
I wonder how you cant see
Hes in the films and songs
And on all your magazines
Its everywhere that you may go
The devils radio
Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah
Runs thick and fast, no one really sees
Quite what bad it can do
As it shapes you into something cold
Like an eskimo igloo
Its all across our lives
Like a weed its spread
till nothing else has space to grow
The devils radio
Can creep up in the dark
Make us hide behind shades
And buzzing like a dynamo
The devils radio
(gossip) oh yeah, (gossip) oh yeah
(gossip) gossip, (gossip) gossip
Oh yeah, gossip I heard you on satans wireless
Gossip, oh yeah you know the devils radio, child
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such As a Bad Habit
I've been on my own and alone for too long,
To know a few things about patience and life!
And those who have not had that experience...
Know very little about sacrificing their likes,
To endure putting up with unwelcomed dislikes.
There has been many things done I did,
That I disliked but tolerated.
In fact I hated going through the process.
And when I had the opportunity,
To do those things enjoyed and liked...
Not a moment did I waste in indecision.
I might have been confused...
But not crazed.
People who spend time whining,
Get on my nerves.
And I am quick to split away from them.
In mid-sentence,
If I have to do it!
I am not attracted to 'whoa-is-me' people.
My father use to tell me,
How as a child...
He had his teeth pulled,
Without novocain.
He told me this frequently...
Whenever I thought he was just around,
To make my life easier.
'Come on, Daddy!
It's just ten dollars! '
I am one of the fortunate ones,
I will admit that!
And with obstacles and setbacks...
I crawled back to get myself on track!
I wasn't about to spend my life,
Traumaticized by emotional ties!
Or gossip and lies...
Folks entertain themselves to tell!
My relationship with God...
Is close.
And we communicate very well!
God is there...
And delivers!
I don't give advice,
Or recommend what others do!
I use to...
Do that,
Often!
And ended up being screwed.
Figuratively speaking!
Even though it is still just as painful.
I've learned many lessons in my life.
And the hardest one was to forgive and forget.
At times I am visited,
With an embitterness that sits.
it takes a while to get over it.
But I am not going to soon let go of my peace of mind,
Or happiness.
Because someone wants to show and display,
Every bit of their ignorance.
With attitude seeking acceptance.
And those folks,
In some places...
Travel around in cliques.
As if what they do is fashionable.
And after one obtains a degree of consciousness...
Folks like that become easier to identify.
Such as a bad habit,
One has to end to quit...
And quick!
Like a fad that has been outdated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When a Town Is Small
No one speaks for me.
No dummy am I,
On a ventriloquist knee.
If you wish to know
What makes me tick...
Pick up your telephone,
Call me quick!
You might even find me dared to be listed!
You don't have to run to my sisters to ask,
What am I doing...
When by me you drive right pass!
And pretend you don't see me,
You do that all the time!
I've known you have been away from 'yours'...
But my mind has been with me,
All this time!
I know you enjoy your gossipying...
But I do have an open line!
And unlike you my head is not up my behind!
There is too much in life to pursue.
But folks with small minds,
Believe they have a say in what others do!
And when a town is small...
Folks like these think they know it all!
Countrified and down homey!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Non-Fictioned
Me?
Oh...
I was born with lots to say!
Poetically.
And any other way.
Sitting back in acceptance...
Has never been my forté.
Living in self deception,
Has not for me been okay!
Questions I ask,
I expect to have answered.
And if what I hear,
Does not please...
I do not rely on rumors,
Or gossip to appease me.
I've been ignored on many occasions.
Only to accept these actions,
As a kind of invitation!
And I become extremely impatient,
With those who hesitate...
In a hushed anticipation!
Awaiting to be spoon fed,
Some resemblance of truth.
To represent a hint of superficial ideals...
They choose to keep pursued.
Me?
Oh...
I was born with lots to say!
Poetically.
And any other way.
And those who feel betrayed,
By the events occurring in their lives today...
From them I have a need to walk away!
Knowing they wish to keep their pretensions intact.
Whether or not they live lives fictionalized,
Or based on fact.
I rather keep my own life lived non-fictioned.
With a reality welcomed I find attractive.
And my mind and heart authorizes...
The motivating information I then enact.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Whose World Is This Lived?
Leechers creepin'
While folks sleepin'
As people on the sidelines,
Pretending it's okay...
To follow others on a path,
To become submissive and obey!
Leechers creepin'
While folks sleepin'
Criminal intent.
With intentions that are meant.
To dupe and dopify,
With bogus alibis!
But...
Whose world is this lived?
Who takes and who gives.
Whose rights are denied?
And why do some try to hide their cries?
Leechers creepin'
While folks sleepin'
As people on the sidelines,
Pretending it's okay...
To follow others on a path,
To become submissive and obey!
But...
Whose world is this lived?
Who takes and who gives.
Whose rights are denied?
And why do many,
Cry at night!
Leechers creepin'
While folks sleepin'
As people on the sidelines,
Pretending it's okay...
To follow others on a path,
To become submissive and obey!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Talk Back With 'Tude
How does one explain things?
Like a naturalness known from birth.
Or having an ability to do something done...
It may take others time to digest and rehearse.
And how should one react,
To a compliment given?
Sometimes saying just thank you...
A frowning reception comes with that.
As if something else is expected,
To be said next.
How does one respond,
To questions asked since 'birth'?
'Are you still doing what you did before?
Or are you still making up your mind...
Trying to find yourself? '
And if that person should say,
'I've been doing what I do.
And I've been doing that everyday! '
Some folks are prone to scan from head to toe...
As if they detect sarcasm,
To an answer that is truthfully something they did not know!
And the person scanned from head to do...
Becomes continually disrespected,
Since they give the impression
Something done they do,
Is secretly hidden from those who gossip...
Awaiting fresh news.
But only the sameness they get!
'Hey,
Aint nothing different!
I've been doing this since I've learned how to walk.
And talk back with 'tude! '
~Yeah...
Whatever.
You need to come down to Earth.
And stop trying to be something you're not.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Comparing Notes and Sharing Agonies
Not into the emotionally needy types.
You know...
The kind that want others to understand,
Where they are coming from.
And not listen at all to recommendations.
But would call to shower their emotions...
Without hesitation!
Luckily I was able to pull myself out of quicksand,
While those folks stood around...
Comparing notes and sharing agonies!
Self preservation I had to grasp early.
And this was done,
When I was extremely young!
If I had not...
I would have long been forgotten.
But those into gossip and good meals,
Would 'still' be in discussion years later...
About the food served at my repast.
Those are the folks,
I have learned to bypass!
Very early when I knew,
I had to pass my own tasks!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Folks Will Go Out of Their Way
Some folks can't be respected.
They wont allow it!
Someone who shows another respect,
Today?
Is going to be disrespected...
And that's a bet!
Some folks will go out of their way,
To show the depth of their ignorance.
Just to prove that is what they are!
And proud to be dysfunctional.
Wanting to show it has been earned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Folks Who Make Claims To Be Christians
Why are there some who say,
They believe in God.
Speak in tongues.
Pass judgement on others,
And how they live.
Where they live and with who?
Express issues they have with materialism.
Usually their lack of it.
Or what someone else has.
Complain about their ailments...
With associated limitations.
And,
Are the ones to say to others,
No one understands where they are coming from.
And when asked 'why' they don't take their troubles to God?
They say...
'This has nothing to do with God! '
And these are the folks,
Who make claims to be Christians!
These are the folks,
Who produce their own problems.
And get upset,
They can not share their headaches...
With those who observe them all as hypocrites!
Seeking those they wish to inflict their afflictions.
'But isn't that demonic? '
I suppose.
However...
They do get their teachings about the 'devil'
And 'sin' on Sundays!
Perhaps they can better tell you,
What it is they do believe...
That God does for them,
And when and where that is done! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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