Some Folks Find That Comforting
Anyone who tries to correct,
What they have already done...
Should be applauded for making the attempt.
Somehow my experiences,
Have assisted in my acquiring this philosophy...
I'm not going to spend a minute trying to correct,
What I have done.
It has been done.
However...
I will do the best I can,
To be more conscious of that which I am doing...
In the moment I am doing it,
As to not to wish to make changes,
To that which I've already done.
If in the doing of 'that' was a possibility.
In other words,
I am not living to make excuses for myself.
Some folks find that comforting.
I don't.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Politically Correct
If you sing out Baa Baa Blacksheep,
It will have a terrible effect,
Who tells us that this song is bad,
The Politically Correct.
Enter our country illegally,
Then show us no respect,
Will we send you straight back, no,
It's not,
Politically Correct.
We're told not to smack our children,
As their minds it will affect,
That is why they run amok,
Thanks,
The Politically Correct.
If you have a criminal mind,
Then join a violent sect,
We won't hold this against you,
We're,
Politically Correct.
If you break in to a house or bank,
Your booty to collect,
We'll put you up if you get caught,
That's,
Politically Correct.
If you're addicted to illegal drugs,
We'll rush in to protect,
We'll say you are a poor wee soul, why?
It's,
Politically Correct.
You can take cocaine and smoke your hash,
Illegal drugs you can inject,
We're not allowed to stop you because,
It's not,
Politically Correct.
If you say Shhhh! Black or White,
Then I'm afraid you can expect,
To be told you're out of order by,
The Politically Correct.
How dare you celebrate Christmas,
That's a time we must all reject,
All Christians are now redundant,
Who says?
The Politically Correct.
We must now rewrite our history,
Our past must now be checked,
We cannot say we won the war,
It's not,
Politically Correct.
Politicians the world over,
Have their fiddles go unchecked,
Why? Because they make the rules,
They're,
The Politically Correct.
Terrorists murder ever day,
On our system this does reflect,
Are we allowed to hang them, no,
We must be,
Politically Correct.
If we try to deport these murdering scum,
We're told we must not neglect,
The fact we're placing them in danger,
That's not,
Politically Correct.
If we hurt their feelings and make them cry,
We must forget those lives they wrecked,
Try to be understanding,
It's,
Politically Correct.
We spend millions on interpreters,
But we're not allowed to object,
We can't force them to speak our dialogue,
Say,
The Politically Correct.
The government now want to seek me out,
I know now that I must defect,
For what I've put in writing's not,
‘' Politically Correct''
Procrastinations Created to Make An Erasing
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
People like this are easily offended.
Believing their disrespect for others,
Should be condoned.
People like this,
Anticipate being appreciated!
For making mediocrity enforced upon others.
With a downgrading of their expectations.
And communicating that,
To entrap as this is shown!
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
And as incredible as this may be...
People extend to them patience,
With comprehension.
Instead of giving them a boot to the curb!
Asked for and deserved!
A lack of discipline should never be rewarded.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mistakes Are Expected To Be Made
Would it be worth it to reverse and redo,
Those mistakes I've made along the way?
For purposes to correct,
What today I am better to convey?
With a maturity that is assured.
And with a humility I've learned to display?
Many times I have thought about this.
As I reminisced those lessons,
I should have grasped but dismissed.
And IF it was a possibility,
To correct and perfect my blemishes...
Flaws and imperfections,
Others inspected and criticized!
My life would not be as fulfilling.
Since my time would be occupied...
With making excuses and creating alibis.
And I would have been limited to sit in fear.
And I thank God,
It was not the fear of obstacles...
That have kept my steps blessed.
It was faith and prayer that made me aware...
I was just one of many artists,
Assigned to do my part...
To add onto this living canvas,
We've come to call life to live and give.
And mistakes are expected to be made.
With attempts in the wrong direction,
Only God forgives if we ask of Her or Him...
Or Both,
To be forgiven!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Is The Truth....
to save yourself you have learned to lie.
your wife does not want you to live
perhaps she hates you
this i think i should know, because on
every lie you make,
she is there to correct it and claims
that it is not so, that this is it,
what lies you make, she is there always
ready to correct, perhaps, she does not love you that much
she loves herself more, and that is the truth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Less Analytical
You can make up your mind,
That you will...
Find the time to be,
More exclusive...
In reducing your excuses.
You can make up your mind,
That you will...
Find the time to be,
More correct...
And,
Less analytical.
Remove yourself from being in the middle,
Of drain.
Remove yourself from being second fiddle,
For anything you dislike...
By,
Deciding what is right.
And you can free yourself from even being,
Very critical.
You can free yourself from seeking things,
More political.
And you will live a life,
With a meaning that is right...
For you.
If this is what you choose.
You can make up your mind,
That you will...
Find the time to be,
More exclusive...
In reducing your excuses.
You can make up your mind,
That you will...
Find the time to be,
More correct...
And less analytical.
You can free yourself from even being,
Very critical.
You can free yourself from seeking things,
More political.
You can live a life,
With a meaning that is right...
For you!
With a doing that you choose.
And...
You will live your life,
With a meaning that is right...
For you.
If,
This is what you choose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Steps With Few Exceptions
For some reason,
I've enjoyed being accused...
For those things I did not do!
I guess knowing who it is I am,
Eventually exposes those accusers...
For the liars I know them to be!
And not a dropp of sweat,
Drips from a heated brow.
None from my face I will allow.
That kind of nonsense does not upset me!
I've had too many experiences,
To get me standing on my own two feet.
And my steps,
With few exceptions...
I make conscious efforts to ensure they are correct.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Hear Me?
Give you
Time?
To do what?
'To comprehend
What you are saying.'
And
You expect me to do what?
'Be patient.'
And in my patient waiting,
What from you can I expect?
'An attempt to understand.'
I tell you what
Why don't you make those attempts
To understand on your own time
And if you find me understanding
With a comprehension you have discovered
Not outdated by my continued journey
Of living life by taking chances
Without making excuses
To introduce myself to fresh experiences
'Perhaps' I may be struck by a bolt of motivation
That inspires me to listen with time given
Just to focus on you
'Oh?
So
What are you saying?
You are not willing to take the time?
So
What is it that you are saying?
You are not willing to take the time?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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And it seems to me correct then, and I think it's correct now, that job one is get the planning done, make sure the buses are there. When that's done, it's completely appropriate to go around and tour around and look at the damage.
quote by Michael Chertoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Politically Correct Politicians Mar 12th 2011
If we had compulsory voting, we would eventually get there,
You are forbidden to think about this or even compare,
Our politicians just love the present first-past-the-post,
Where the combined opposition always have many more votes.
And folks who refuse or fail to vote should get a substantial fine,
On their next year’s tax return which they cannot refuse or decline,
And binding referendums should come up for compulsory debate,
Though the politically correct will always say it’s too late.
And our future deaths-with-dignity should also be discussed,
Assisted suicide will not disappear like a cloud of dust,
If they can do it in Oregon and Switzerland, why not here?
What do politically correct politicians have to fear?
Mar 12th,2011
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Postmodern Light
If you don't support ‘progress’
You're not politically correct
Though often it is pure foulness
A perfect product of the imperfect.
If you believe in freedom
Yes, you're politically correct
But one's liberty is another's serfdom
Power in the hand of the elect.
If you're not a feminist
You're not politically correct
So do not swing your fist
Even when you are erect.
Your values and tradition
Are politically correct, perhaps,
If your divorces keep going on
Imbued with other family mishaps.
If you're not a ‘postmodern’
You're not politically correct
So just raise high your lantern
And irradiate for stage effect.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If That Is Done Now
Today...
Be aware of time,
As it is now.
Be conscious and forgiving,
Of what is done.
As if you have only one opportunity...
To escape, correct or ignore what takes place.
Tomorrow...
Be aware of time,
As it is now.
Be conscious and forgiving,
Of what is done.
As if you have only one opportunity...
To escape, correct or ignore what takes place.
Yesterday...
Wasting it wishing,
You had been more conscious...
Is why you have today.
There is always time to mend and correct...
If that is done now!
Since there is no other time like it is right now.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Truth In Her...
to save yourself you have learned to lie.
your wife does not want you to live
perhaps she hates you
this i think i should know, because on
every lie you make,
she is there to correct it and claims
that it is not so, that this is it,
what lies you make, she is there always
ready to correct, perhaps, she does not love you that much
she loves herself more, and that is the truth
(you are jobless, and old,
and ugly, and coping,
you are drunk, and sick,
you are broke, and lonely,
you are sinful and foul
that is the truth, now,
can you manage all these?)
i must make you understand.
i can tolerate your lies, and i do not want you to just die.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tell Them Anything To Believe!
Tell them anything to believe!
That kept policy of philosophy,
Remains as the chief cohesive reason...
Why too many can not accept,
A life they perceived to be denied...
Of an integrity wished from others.
With a wanting of it from them to get.
But learn they have been duped by lies.
Tell them anything to believe!
And those who have done this,
Today have their regrets to express.
If people are led to discover,
They no longer should and can respect...
What is there left to protect or expect,
From those giving their best but find themselves...
Totally disregarded and taken for granted to neglect.
And those who have chosen to tell folks anything,
But what is correct...
Eventually find they are without a purpose.
Since nothing which is meant to convince to be heard...
Becomes regarded as worthless and a waste of words.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whatever It Takes To Participate
Fed to greed.
That's it.
Not to solicit with a consciousness,
To correct with a higher learning...
A resolving of any conflicts that today exists!
Fed to self indulge.
Spend and waste.
Whatever it takes,
To participate.
And the later time gets,
To correct what misfits...
Minds will find they are addicted,
To whatever it is that keeps them unfit.
Fed to greed.
That's it.
Not to solicit with a consciousness,
To correct with a higher learning...
A resolving of any conflicts that today exists!
And the later time gets,
To correct what misfits...
Minds will find they are addicted,
To whatever it is that keeps them unfit.
Fed to self indulge.
Spend and waste.
Whatever it takes,
To participate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unsolicited
Without the advantage,
And benefits...
That do not overnight come,
One's intended physical regimen...
Will more than likely,
Will be something not to be done.
And an absence of discipline,
To initiate motivation...
Seldom begins,
Without a doing.
But those committed to wining and dining,
Will find the time to spend...
Making arrangements for them.
And this says one thing about priorities set.
They have been effectively placed,
To make the best excuses.
And the best of excuses do come,
Unsolicited.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Typographical Errors
Typographical errors,
I try to avoid.
Some I leave,
To create their own noise.
And something suspected,
To be out of place...
Usually gets more attention,
Than something correct...
One wishes to say.
And there are times it takes me,
All day to imperfect what is correct.
Especially if I want to emphasize,
My own perfection has defects.
I know! I know, that's hard to believe...
That I would take 'all' day to imperfect what is correct.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Those Battles Between Them Persist Without End
I am not one to analyze or bring to judgement,
The misdeeds done by those now dead.
Or correct with facts those deceits done,
To shed bright light upon that which has been said.
There is nothing in it for me,
To declare a victory.
However,
I am one to speak from my own experiences...
About those implications that were fed to devastate.
And reason and causes of those effects,
That have left divisions needing mending...
From an implementing by those dead,
To have those they disliked...
Tossing without sleep in their beds at night.
A healing from wrongs to make them right,
Has to take place to stop needless fights.
And what is there to gain to maintain conflicts?
By the ones living unable to comprehend...
Why those battles between them persist without end.
I am not one to analyze or bring to judgement,
The misdeeds done by those now dead.
Or correct with facts those deceits done,
To shed bright light upon that which has been said.
There is nothing in it for me,
To declare a victory.
'Why are you fighting?
And what purpose does it serve? '
~Because it's...
Because it is a,
Well...
Because! ~
And there is absolutely nothing in it for you,
To continue blindly doing those things you do...
Because of tradition?
What is your definition of that tradition?
And those living to defend it?
Why can't you respond for a meaning of it to mention.
Or know where to begin.
Since many traditions held today...
Have proven to make little if any sense!
To declare what is your tradition?
To maintain one's right to remain ignorant?
'Lower your weapons.
I'm just asking you a question.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trudeau's Chater Again Mar 19th,2011
Can we ban illegal immigrant refugee claimants in this land?
They can go to court with their claims for remand after remand,
As they claim their Charter Rights thanks to Pierre Trudeau,
It goes to show back then, how much we really didn’t know.
And if they are also terrorists, then that’s too bad,
The Charter was written for “EVERYONE” which could be sad,
All they have to do is make it to Canada and they’re home free,
Then onto politically correct Supreme Court appointees.
Soft courts making softer immigration Charter decisions
Like the abortion clinics and there are no legal revisions,
As some do-good legal-aid lawyer stands up and make a case,
It’s politically correct though it’s a national disgrace.
Mar 19th,2011
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drawing
you draw a map
you make a landscape
there are people and children
and there are houses and trees
you put the wind
sketches of lines and shadows and
shades and blots
you pour this black ink
to make a night
and then you make waves to form the birds
flying away
you situate the fence upon an edge
they all fall down upon an abyss
you try to find
where you are
you are not there
and if somehow you are there
you are but a dot
you have no heart
there is no space where you can put it
there is no place
where you can make it beat
you do not hear it
they say that is correct
for you have long been dead
you refute
you take the revenge
you hurt
you write more words than they can think of
you tell them
this is poetry
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some Are So Creative
When some folks begin...
To make excuses.
It is a process for them,
That never ends.
They keep making excuses,
To use and abuse their family and friends.
In an addicting process...
Predictable!
Eventually identified as lies.
And applied over and over again.
Some are so creative,
As to make people believe...
Those who can see through this,
Are wrong not to comprehend...
An obvious illness,
Hidden within!
And why excuses for them exist.
Going on in their minds,
Without the slightest resistance...
Time after time.
And then comes the campaign...
To discredit and bad mouth others.
Either stating someone believes,
They have opinions that are not concrete.
When anyone who has ever made contact with them...
Notices too late,
They too have been wrapped up in a waste of time...
Helping the excuse maker to defend!
Only to find themselves in public disagreements.
And having the innocent eyes of a pathological liar...
Gaining sympathy from those,
Who had not been over time exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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