Some Folks Are Just Unavoidable
Some folks are just unavoidable,
No matter what is done.
But an avoidance must be attempted...
Or their evilness intended,
Will not be overcomed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Navigating
The worse thing about stumbling,
Is trying to make it not appear
As a fall!
Some folks do this successfully,
Behind closed doors...
Singing flat,
To mend wounds on soured backs!
Warming bruised egos,
In shower stalls.
Others find themselves on knees,
Pleading to God,
To release them quick...
From paybacks returned,
As lessons learned received...
By the evilness of their deeds,
Coming to sit for prolonged visits!
While those who know,
That falling down shows...
Getting up,
In full public exposure...
Removes remorse,
Many inflict and endorse.
But if divorced from this prevails...
The navigating one does,
Prevents a life of great deeds
Others believe
Will leave one stunted...
Accepting to fail!
And this can not be done,
For those who dedicate themselves
To winning!
Ending the beginnings...
To see themselves in traps,
They perceive that can not be overcomed!
(Dedicated: To all who attend Capital Community College. Located in downtown Hartford, Connecticut. I decided not to dwell on the loss of my son, Michael Lawrence Demetrius Pertillar Who passed away October 11,1970.)
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Next?
Hurdles have been jumped.
Races have been won.
Knees have been scraped...
And lost dignity overcomed!
Challenges have been faced,
In sight of naysayers...
And things attempted,
Can now be said were done!
What next awaits the fate of one,
As the Sun continues to rise...
With more surprises yet,
To delight, excite and come!
'What next? '
Questions the champion pacing.
Who now slowly strolls...
And ages in a process no one controls.
But no one that dares,
Prepares to 'Stop! '
The sun may set!
But not grab hold,
Of this run that's bold...
And defiant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bleeding In A Pool Of Shame
Some people are prone to condon,
Their distasteful behavior.
To make any claim whatsoever,
With a justifying of their misdeeds.
And this they do,
With a censoring done to others.
With attitudes they will excuse.
As a standard of values,
They monitor to ensure...
Others they choose to suppress,
Keep endeared and respected.
Some people are prone to condon,
Their distasteful behavior.
To make any claim whatsoever,
With a justifying of their misdeeds.
Only to witness their own credibility,
Bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what it is that the cruel people do,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
And no matter what the evilness people may choose,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what deceitful people choose what they do.
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what those evil people choose for you,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what it is that the cruel people do,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
And no matter what the evilness people may choose,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what deceitful people choose what they do.
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what those evil people choose for you,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hugs
A hug
E’en if given
Only in jest
Tis still yet
a hug
No more no less
While Intended
Perhaps only
To be received in jest
I shall instead
Choose to Treat it
As a sweet caress
For no matter
How tis intended
The hug to be
How tis comprehended
Is totally
Up to me
poem by David Whalen
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Not Let Time Be Wasted
I intended to,
But I didn't...
Finish what I started yesterday.
I intended to,
But I didn't...
Promise myself I would stop procrastinating.
And...
I was almost there,
Until an excuse got in my way.
I intended to,
But I didn't...
Take that walk,
So to others I could say...
What it is 'they' should do,
To not let time be wasted...
With a getting nothing done,
If something to do was intended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LVIII: Intention
Can I ugly cry like that when it intended to be lie
Can I easily talk like that when it intended to be lie
Can I bark mad like that when it intended to be lie
Or will I set my poker face to smooth my intention to lie?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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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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Even When Exposed To It
Some folks don't want to be told the truth.
Even when exposed to it...
They insist it is an evilness,
Coming to destroy their deludeness.
And they will do anything to prevent its existence.
As they persist to solicit deception visits!
With preferences wished.
And a list of demands,
They hold tightly in sweating hands.
Hoping their insistence,
Will diminish the affects of what they will...
Or will not accept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's a Two Way Street
Some folks can not accept directness.
Especially if they have attempted to hide themselves,
Behind walls of protective insecurities.
They would like to voice their opinions,
With critique and judgements passed.
Hoping no one finds their state of mind,
Faltering with self delusion!
Directness gets to the heart of this.
One who does it is depicted as insensitive.
Or lacks tact.
However it is done,
One who is direct can not hold back!
And some on the receiving end feeling attacked...
Should apply and use it,
To restore a confidence.
Instead of masquerading one they lack!
It's a two way street.
And one should determine not to always travel it,
With intentions to arrive at their destination...
Just one way!
When someone has something to say...
No matter what it is,
Be willing to listen!
Even if the inclination is to resist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let's Just Do Lunch
Somethings were said.
Some things to remind me to look ahead,
And not backward.
To forgive and let live instead.
And leave what was done...
In the past,
Where it is.
Dead!
Times have changed and so have we.
I agree I miss you.
But it's not a desperate need.
I miss the innocence...
Prior to those nasty arguments.
And I've taken the blame...
For anything you claimed I have done.
Even taking a chance,
Something may trigger and enhance...
What has now been overcomed.
I'd rather not take that road again.
Let's just do lunch!
Welcome this time we've had together.
And say goodbye when that time has come.
To depart as friends.
Let's just do lunch.
Not to think about a new beginning.
But celebrate an ending we have overcomed!
Let's just do lunch.
Enjoy that and leave this memory,
As a pleasant one!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Freed of Most Addictions
My time will not be wasted,
By a dispersing attempted through your rhetoric.
My genes are not compose to be,
In a receivership of it.
My mind has been freed of most addictions.
Although I remain in conference with nicotine.
And I've ridden wild horses determined to throw me off.
But there I stayed to learn lessons.
Some of which were extremely painful and mean.
My time will not be wasted,
By a dispersing attempted through your rhetoric.
My genes are not compose to be,
In a receivership of it.
And none of it no matter how slick,
Is even welcomed here to make a quick visit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Almighty Does Not Sit In That Classroom of Tricks
When acts of evilness with intent are committed...
Do not revenge it.
It will hurt like pain never felt...
Or believed dealt with before!
Do not revenge it.
Even though it aches not to strike back.
Like some who believe,
They have been ordained to attack!
Forgive those involved!
That is the key!
And observe how God resolves your patience.
In ways you will witness in disbelief!
But hold onto your faith with a courage,
You should not chase or allow to leave.
No deed done goes ignored.
Believe!
What goes up...
Comes down eventually!
Believe!
And what goes around...
Has to come back.
And for millions observing,
The Earth is round and not flat!
Even thoughts that are tossed away...
Aren't lost to stay that way!
Understand what is said and to 'whom' you pray!
Believe!
When acts of evilness with intent are committed...
There is a higher power that knows just how to bestow
What is needed when the time is right!
Remember this...
Forgetting maybe something we are told,
And conditioned to believe we must do...
By those who chose to sell their souls,
To allow a brand of evilness to continue,
What it does to me and you.
As we weaken in droves!
But...
The Almighty does not sit,
In that classroom of tricks!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Instinctive (Descending From Failed Ascents)
Cheapened and cheesed.
Those once fat cats,
With their Cuban cigars.
And crooked lawyers kept as pets.
From whom do they snatch,
Their flights of fancy.
And secrecy back?
When theft they've captured,
Has been recalled from stocked bags...
Packed and champagned.
From whom amongst them selected...
Can backtrack to those backstabbed,
With the sincerety of a puppy?
Hoping for a loyalty still maintained.
Some folks climb with only themselves in mind.
With delusions to control and be worshipped.
And some folks find a climb to the top is pointless.
Since it is not advisable to begin a certain decline...
To meet anyone near or at the bottom.
Unless they are accustomed to this movement done,
As a good deed received from the ones not overcomed!
Anyone who has bled...
At the sacrifice of propping someone else up,
Knows just how to treat,
Those of treason and betrayal.
It is instinctive!
Arising spontaneously...
As the demise of the suppressor,
Gets closer to them!
Those familiar with solid ground.
Prepared but not so quick to entertain...
The ones,
Obviously stunned.
As seen descending from failed ascents!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Urceus Exit
Triolet
I INTENDED an Ode,
And it turn'd to a Sonnet
It began a la mode,
I intended an Ode;
But Rose cross'd the road
In her latest new bonnet;
I intended an Ode;
And it turn'd to a Sonnet.
poem by Henry Austin Dobson
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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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Unavoidable
Forget that 'bam' in bamboozled.
Or the 'hood' covering those sly winks.
All deceptions replayed today,
Will not escape from noses...
Certain of a distinct smell that stays,
Of something thick that stinks.
No matter how polluted the air...
This stench that is there is unavoidable.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In the Land of Misunderstandings
Who in a population of game players,
Is satisfied with just one sacrifice to commit?
In the land of misunderstandings...
Where folks pray and worship,
An assortment of conflict.
With beliefs the Earth is unfeeling and thoughtless.
Anyone daring to tackle a seriousness,
Unequipped with a heart.
Has no chance to defend against the heartless.
Hoarding stolen wealth.
With gifts to market as they benefit from evilness.
One has to have a lot of heart...
Bite, vigor and vim
To withstand the onslaught of an addicted ignorance.
Folks fight to keep it.
Folks kill to be adorned in it.
Or have it sit proudly...
On their disrespecting lips.
With any admitted identity gone.
On a long
Long
Trip!
Who...
With a clear consciousness,
That hasn't gotten sick to be airlifted...
To undergo a detoxing.
In a population of game players,
Can say...
They have become satisfied,
With just one sacrifice to commit?
In the land of misunderstandings...
Where folks pray and worship,
An assortment of conflict.
Anyone daring to tackle a seriousness,
And unequipped with a heart.
Has no chance to defend against the heartless.
Needed...
Is a pledge to keep a strengthened sanity intact.
Those subjected to emotional flashbacks...
Will not make a good recruit,
To hold these mental monsters back.
They are on the rise!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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From the Watchful Eyes of God
My advice?
I am not one to give it.
Since it is not my expertise.
But I will offer a suggestion,
I hope you do not question!
Since it is my observation.
Anyone making decisions to select someone,
To become prey of slander being done.
With character assassinations...
To defame with false accusations.
Hoping to impede worthy deeds,
With an unconscious evilness that succeeds.
Should evaluate the depth and permanence,
Of the circumstances...
Once implemented they can not circumvent,
With calls of forgiveness a regretful mind...
In time,
Will not let one forget!
Some folks will pretend,
Such actions against them does not offend.
However...
Those who are victimized,
Are never far away...
From the watchful eyes of God!
And He, She or It will not legitimize these actions,
By ignoring them as innocent fits of fancy.
No matter how deep a deceit of cloaking goes!
Something will be done,
To affect the lives of those who choose darkness
To impose...
Such sinister actions dressed,
Masquerading in pious clothes.
Disguised as sheep...
Baring fangs of demons to wolf,
Under choral robes!
Their souls are not veiled at all!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Send All Of It Back
Send all of it back.
All of that felt negativity descending.
Stop its intended attempts,
To invade my peace and privacy.
Take it away.
Back to where it originates.
To leave me free,
Of wickedness sent.
I will not allow it to compete,
With my quiet sentiments released.
Received and understood.
To nourish as I should.
Send all of it back.
All of that felt negativity descending.
I've comprehended mistakes,
And misunderstandings done.
No longer am I in punishment,
For mending those wrongs I've overcomed.
Forgiveness was given.
Apologies received.
Purpose, reason or causes of effects...
I am not going to research with consistent regret.
To persist to saddle dead horses to beat...
Are issues others may wish to revive.
But myself I will not weep in sobs...
To keep revolving,
Pain I've resolved.
Send all of it back.
All of that felt negativity descending.
Stop its intended attempts,
To invade my peace and privacy.
What happened in times passed...
My heart refuses to get involved!
Take it away.
Back to where it originates.
To leave me free,
Of wickedness sent.
I will not allow it to compete,
With my quiet sentiments released.
Received and understood.
To nourish as I should.
And will.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hurling
Hurling, hurl, run, gin, in, ring, hug, rug, ruin, luring;
With quarterly sessions in the name of your love,
But he attempted to rape her!
Disparaged,
But he stood naked in front of her!
And was caught by eyewitnesses as he attempted to rape her;
But now, it is all over! !
And, he was jailed for his acts last month.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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