Some Obstacles Are Planted By Those Who Test
...and the fact is this...
I am not one on a mission,
To prove to those who witness...
I am here to exist.
Nor do I hesitate to debate a foolishness.
The first thing most would come to think,
When I take opportunities...
To declare I am black,
Is someone prepared to defend that fact!
Or feel I must attack because I am labelled that.
Listen...
The color of one's skin,
Has little to do with the mind within them.
And I will not allow a scrimmage,
To scuffle with in set defined limits.
Or restrict my life,
To choose what I do because it is liked.
Although I will admit,
Some obstacles are planted by those who test...
With a purpose to discourage my ambitiousness.
And I've learned not to get upset,
By those representing that kind of ignorance left.
Either at my door to greet.
Or laid before my placed footsteps!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
With A Kicking To The Curb
Although my journey...
Has seemed sometimes long,
With a prolonging of obstacles to face...
I have managed to slowly erase them with faith.
As well as a chasing away of 'expected' obstacles...
Presented to prevent what I must do each day.
I had to grow stronger and determined,
To prove for no one else but myself...
The steps that I take on the path I am on...
I am on it because I belong,
In the doing with a purpose.
And serving this purpose as it deserves.
And on a daily basis I will and can say,
I recognize my blessings.
And on a daily basis I will and can say,
I have recognized those foes...
Hoping to block my way,
From the crevices of shadows fading.
And...
On a daily basis I will and can say,
The Creator is responsible...
For removing opposition in my way that sit.
Trying to upset me with conflicts to afflict.
The Creator is responsible...
For not allowing this to persist.
And with a knowing of that,
It is with a kicking to the curb I do...
All that which attempts to delay my mission.
It is with a kicking to the curb I do...
To eliminate from me aches of all kinds,
From my mind to exist...
With an assistance only God can give.
It is with my Father's wishes,
The Creator of ALL there is 'that' is...
That has done this to mend AND fix!
And He, My Father...
Will not continue to permit,
The foolishness of nonsense...
To attack me with that kind of grip.
God has shown me I need not put up with it.
And...
With a clearing of the way for only HIS will to be done!
As it shall be...nonsense gets out of the mix.
Since The Creator alone,
Rules the Kingdom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Am I Nuts Test
Before taking The Am I Nuts Test,
Do your best to be objective and prepared...
To declare 'yourself',
As crazy as a bed bug!
Why declare this?
It will be easier to take the test,
With the acknowledgement...
There had been someone who picked on a bed bug,
To proclaim and announce it crazy.
Okay?
Now you should feel open to accept,
All possibilities.
First...
Have you ever discovered yourself quick to deny,
Anything?
Think about this and be honest.
Second...
Are you afraid to be critiqued?
For any physical flaws and blemishes you keep?
Third...
Do you seek to mask your insecurities?
With a pointing out those of others...
As you desperately try to secretly hide,
Those of your own that are hidden deep?
Fourth...
Do you get up each morning,
With wishes to find someone to impress.
Without first expressing a thankfulness for your blessings?
Do you find a need to rehearse this first?
Fifth...
Are you envious and jealous,
Of those addressing with confidence their identities?
Does this irritate you to no end?
And you are convinced,
They actually are trying to run away...
From their strange and differentness.
Do you feel people like this pretend?
And you remain one of the few...
Who advocate a 'normalcy' wishing others to approve?
Well...
You 'are' nuts!
And there is no need to have the results discussed.
If you believe others are out of their minds,
With a few like you being 'normal'.
And no evidence around you to validate and find.
You 'are' nuts and out of your mind.
No one today is normal.
'What makes you qualified to administer a test like this? '
Long ago I was confirmed as being dysfunctional.
And I resisted this refusing to admit it.
But today those dysfunctional,
Seem to be the ones left who have common sense.
'So...
You too are nuts? '
No.
My preference is to stay,
As dysfunctional for as long as I can.
I find to admit it makes me more marketable.
To discover someone is nuts,
Puts a limit to their opportunities.
And...
To debate with someone about the mentalities of bed bugs,
Is way out of my league.
I enjoy my life lived as simple as possible.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grow
Grow.
Difficult it is.
And in the doing,
It is magical too.
If you,
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
Slow and determine,
To acquire knowledge.
And not upon it sit.
Become more inquisitive...
About life as it exists.
Don't permit,
Given criticisms to stop your quest.
The more that is learned,
The more of them...
May just manifest.
Grow.
It will become easy to be embittered,
By all that appears stagnant.
But a patience that develops,
Will within you begin to navigate...
Over obstacles and things that irritate.
You can and will,
Grow.
Show it with defined purpose.
Grow.
Don't fear ignorance.
Grow.
Overcome it like hopping a fence.
You can and will,
Grow.
Don't sit and bemoan your fate.
Grow.
Ignorance is not bliss.
Grow,
Ignorance can twist,
An unconscious mind into bits!
You can and will,
Grow.
Like a flower that blooms.
And reaches towards the sky.
Grow.
Do not deny it as life passes you by!
Grow.
Learn to fly and soar!
You can and will,
Grow.
Make opportunities for yourself,
And unlock...
All of those locked up doors,
You allowed to close before.
You can and will,
Grow.
Difficult it is.
Grow.
And in the doing.
Grow.
You can and will,
Grow.
It is magical too.
Grow.
If you decide to...
Grow.
Grow.
Grow.
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
You can and will,
Grow!
And let that be your mission.
Grow.
Knowing it is your ammunition.
Grow.
You can and will,
Grow.
Grow.
Grow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Midst Of An Emergency
If the issues you have,
Only center around you and your way of life.
And how you have decided to live...
Why are your expectations as to how I should re-act,
With the knowing of that...
Should come to upset you with disappointment?
When was the last time you listened to anything I suggested?
And calling 911 to your home to taste an overbaked chicken,
I don't consider as being urgent.
I don't.
Maybe many others do.
But I don't.
And know this,
Your previous 'crisis' before that one...
Was, in fact, my last.
Especially when you expected me to cancel my dentist appointment.
To declare yourself to be in the midst of an emergency,
Only to admit a need to rush to the mall...
To purchase a pair of shoes you saw advertised on sale.
You don't realize just how petty and trivial the living of your life is,
Do you?
You don't realize at all others exist to experience more of life,
To witness...
Do you?
Who put that self importance in your head for it to clog?
Who did that to you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Others May Mistake A Duck
I remember being defined,
By...
How I spoke with a wish to be understood.
Pronunciating words with a clarity.
And spoken in the way they were spelled,
As they were meant to be.
I was not the one to accept mediocrity.
I remember being judge by the way I looked.
Where I lived and the interest in others I took.
And what I had to present and didn't.
I was 'out-of-it' to many.
And this was said to me as if to restrict.
I remember putting a stamp on my identity.
And the acceptance of this,
Had been rejected by others who could not then see.
In fact...others would approach me,
As if I had commited treason.
Or had an incurable disease.
People can be cruel when making their assessments.
As if those selected needed to be taught a few lessons.
Today with integrity and my identity intact,
I do not declare my 'Blackness'.
I've always been proud of that.
What is obvious to me needs no announcing of fact.
Or do I oppose those with a host of opinions,
To appear more bold to the ones opposing my goals.
Finished or not they will never be diminished.
I have learned not to pay naysayers any attention.
Or give them time to stretch the limits of their minds.
If others may mistake a duck in wasted debates,
To argue what they see is a parakeet...
Or something else to be caged.
They will have those same issues forever on display.
Regardless how outdated their manifestations,
With them stay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Not Here To Revisit Your Limits
I want it known...
I didn't appear here,
To be absent from view.
I want it known by you,
Everything I do...
Is to show you and prove,
I didn't come to revisit your limits.
Or restrict my wishes to live,
Within barriers you've picked.
I refuse to accept it.
Fear and the thought of threats with anguish,
Are not for me delicious treats to feed consistently...
On any basis you face with convincing conviction.
You are going to find a leaving that behind,
With me...
A done deal.
And this is not an appeal for your opinion.
I didn't come to revisit your limits.
Or restrict my wishes to live,
Within barriers you've picked.
I refuse to accept it.
Come on...
Debate with me later.
But I am sure in your mind,
Little time you will find for that.
Come on...
I am not here to revisit your limits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Once Upon A Time
Whatever that is in your mind,
Keeping it confined to Once Upon A Time
Fantasized stories...
With such a determination to see them come to life,
Is a condition of madness enforced!
With an adoption that has altered your senses.
Senses you've learned to endorse.
And pointless it is to argue with folks like you.
Or debate aspects of a reality...
Nonexistent in your view.
Nor can I question your loyalty.
That would be considered a crime committed.
And 'that' I choose not to do!
You are too obviously devoted,
To what has made this place great!
You definitely pose no one here a threat.
Or hesitate to defend the state of your mentality.
Hey...
It's all good!
However...
IF you begin to notice,
Drastic changes to your world happening soon?
Don't get too upset.
They are just rearranging the focus of the lighting...
With a few scenery changes!
And they have begun to 'update' the sets!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Hate The Fact
I hate the fact
that one can steal your heart
and leave it broken in many parts
I hate the fact
that one can make you feel
but then you looked he had turned the wheel
I hate the fact
that one can catch your eye
and finally find it was for a while
I hate the fact
that one can sweep you off your feet
into a fantasy that only you could feel
I hate the fact
that when you hear ones name
you remember he was once your dame
I hate the fact
that you had to go
and you left me here with a broken soul
I hate the fact
that love was there
but left me in pain that one cant bare
I hate the fact
that memories hurt
and that nothing ever seems to ever work
I hate the fact
that i cry so much
that everyday i long to feel your touch
I hate the fact
that i cant move on
but maybe its something that can make me strong
poem by Miri Tuecemo
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To Preserve Delusions Kept
I am familiar with them changing the rules,
Each time I near the goal line.
And each time I near the goal line,
They are the ones finding themselves...
Closer to the edge.
I thought I had been the only one,
To observe this mirage.
But apparently I'm not.
I am one of many participants,
Disbelieving but going along with it.
And I witness this with others,
Knowing from the very beginning...
Of a foolishness it is to want to be selective.
And when they stand at the edge,
Prepared to jump from it...
I wonder if defiance, evil and stubbornness,
To witness their own foolishness then...
Will be on their minds?
To define and validate for others,
What sickness is when pushed to its own limits.
Or...
Will they then be convinced,
One who feels confident...
Doesn't have to prove that to anyone,
If it is felt and known within a secured mind.
With a coming to grips,
The field played upon was created for everyone,
To enjoy for what it is and to share it.
But...
Some want to be seen as champions.
Even if that means...
Leaping to their deaths to preserve delusions kept.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Put That Bottle Down
When you get sippin'
I get tired of it.
Then you begin to trippin'
And that makes me sick.
Why can't you put,
That bottle down.
If you wont do that,
I can't stay around.
You're a closet alcoholic,
That's a fact you wont admit.
When you begin to nippin...
Your sips don't quit.
Why can't you put that bottle down.
If you wont do that I can't stay around.
You need to stop that sippin quick.
When you get drunk,
It makes me sick.
That habit that you have admit it...
Before you get ripped on your trip.
Why can't you put that bottle down.
If you wont do that I can't stay around.
If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it,
But...
You need to put that bottle down.
You need to do it 'cause I want you around!
If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it,
But...
You need to put that bottle down.
You need to do it 'cause I want you around!
If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it,
But...
You need to put that bottle down.
You need to do it 'cause I want you around!
If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it.
Prove it to yourself this habit you can remove!
Why can't you put that bottle down!
You can do it.
You can prove it.
I am here to help you through it!
And...
Why can't you put that bottle down?
You can do it.
You can prove it.
I am here to help you through it!
And...
Why can't you put that bottle down?
You can do it.
You can prove it.
I am here to help you through it,
To cease this evil.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I Lead I Do Not Follow
I am not one to seek,
That good negro on the plantation appeal.
I am a field hand and proud of it.
Although I can whip up some biscuits,
And clean and take care of a house.
You may even see me fixing a shingle.
But...
I will also sneak off to read a book.
And appear at banquets,
Regardless of how I look.
And dare to socialize and entertain.
I'm not defined by my emotional hangups!
Or will allow engrossing conversations about it!
To then remain upset,
Because I may be patronized.
'How does it feel to be a Black man,
In today's intolerant society.'
Excuse me?
I hope you are not representing,
An abundance of ignorance here.
If so,
Let me know!
I'd rather go out and plow.
Or feed some surprised cow in the field.
I will not be sharing ancestral stories.
I can choose to impress if I wish...
IF I took that time.
And I can be quite 'lofty'
When I use my mind to dropp jaws and lips.
If I so incline!
But what would be accomplished...
And my purpose for it?
I know who I already 'R'!
And I can 'beez' all that...
If I wanted.
But my needs are simplistically met.
However...
Trying to find acceptance,
To excuse my heritage that I embrace...
Will not leave me to monitor my outer appearance.
Just to be another fool,
With no identity or dignity...
To acknowledge being disgraced.
Some just choose to be seen and beam.
And when I lead...
I do not follow!
Just in case you might think I'd be annoyed,
By you calling me 'boy'.
Or make reference to my coloredness.
Those 'others' might trip!
But me...
I've already been through it.
And my preferences are not exceeded,
By my expectations.
Or judgements 'I' may pass.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Finally Got The Message
Why are they sobbing?
'They are saying,
Something has come to affect their lives.
And they were not prepared and didn't know.'
That's a bunch of BS.
I came to address that with them months ago.
'Oh?
So...
You were the one that got them upset.
With a telling them they should awaken,
From a foolishness that they protect.
And when you arrived you were not dressed,
To impress.
And that's why they ignored your message? '
Who knows.
But they can not say they weren't told.
So why are they sobbing in their Sunday clothes?
'They just discovered,
The message you left...
Had the steps they should take,
If they expected entry through the 'Pearlie Gates'.
What Pearlie Gates?
'Well...
A blistering sermon was just delivered to them,
About disrespecting their fellowman.
Since one never knows who has what in their hands.
Wasn't that the message you left? '
NAW, man!
I came to tell them their son had been,
A cellmate of mine in prison.
And he escaped.
But they had moved away.
'Oooohhh!
Maybe they didn't move that far.
And their sins caught up with them.
Now I see.
They have not been that honest with me.'
Either way...
They got some kind of message.
And that fool they've been trying to protect,
Has probably been breathing down their necks.
You can run but no one can hide,
From mistakes denied.
I have learned that the hard way.
So what do you think for them is next?
'That's obvious.
A reaping of what they have allowed to sow! '
Nicely put.
Who are you?
'I am their minister.
I see you've learned a thing or two? '
That's what being locked up will do.
'I'm seeking an assistant.
All of my associate pastors,
Have had confinement in their past.
Think about it.'
NAW.
God has me on a different mission.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Was Born To Listen To You & You
and then recently i learned
something
like a mission for my life: to listen
to you
& you, whose mouths are drying in your own
kind of depression
your hair falling like some dry leaves of
a very hot summer and you
appear like
a bald mountain to me
as i behave
cool as a river as i flow steadily
following the path
to the blue sea
you ask for my ears and i add my eyes
and even
my eyelids that shut to put more color to your imaginations
some flowers wilting in your mind
some snakes spitting venom in your head
all these
that sometimes too threaten me
that i touch my skin
and bones
if i am still myself: born to listen to all your woes
and sadness
you & you alone
how many are you really
so i may know
also how many selves do i have to invent to solve
the riddles of your mind?
now i know my mission
to resolve and draw the many faces of you
to remake
a stuff of a hollow being
fill you with some
essences
so you may finally come to your senses
now a shrink
tomorrow your papa or your mama
or your brother
sometimes I feel like I am God
to watch you
to see to it that unlike your ancestors
and my ancestors
we may not fall again on the same
abyss
of not really knowing ourselves
of having many names
and finally losing what we really are
in the sea
of missing identities. Now, i pray that i may have more ears
and eyes
to listen to see and more hands to hold
more of you and you and you and you
split and shattered
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When the Clouds Cover My Glitz
I love hanging amongst the stars.
To sparkle and glow bright.
I love to be wished upon...
To be the focus of one's eyesight.
And when I've accomplished that mission...
I feel something I've done has pleased.
But I must admit,
I can get upset when the clouds cover my glitz.
And I am separated from those missing me.
And I do the best to shine more radiantly...
To prove to them I truly exist.
For purposes to expose more 'light'...
To satisfy more eyes that lift.
With an appetite to nourish.
Flourishing as they do as they crave my greatness.
'Don't you think that is a bit self serving? '
Oh yes!
And I wish I had more of what it is I have to give!
It is a two way street.
The brighter I shine...
The more of a purpose I serve,
They get and deserve.
Move over...
You are in my light!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sense And Sensitivity
I try to keep an open mind
for things that cannot be defined.
Foreknowledge and telepathy,
anything extra sensory.
Clairvoyance and clairaudience,
which seem to use a different sense
from the five which we all use
It seems we aren’t allowed to choose
Levels of sensitivity.
are distributed randomly.
Although we try we can’t deny
that some unwritten rules apply
That these wild talents do exist
That’s why belief will long exist.
We can’t present proof positive.
All the evidence we can give
is anecdotal at the best
and fails all scientific test
Administered by tight closed minds
absorbed in prejudice which blinds
to any possibility.
Which they can’t touch or taste or see.
Although I do not understand
I cannot dismiss out of hand
Abilities which some possess.
but are reluctant to express.
Because they do not want to be
Subject to foolish mockery
You are convinced it can’t be true
and you refuse to listen to
any opposing argument
Your mind tight closed you are content
to live your life in ignorance
. Ascribing everything to chance
A choice you are entitled to
if you prefer a blinkered view.
Because some things can’t be defined
I much prefer an open mind.
I can accept quite easily
not every body will agree.
There’s so much that we do not know
about the human mind.Although
it seems to be illogical
I think nothing’s impossible.
08/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mentally, Physically and Spiritually Sick
No.
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions to exist.
They choose to disrespect one another.
Then proclaim desires for unity.
Observing them in their places of worship...
You would think heaven was on Earth.
The way they perform, dance and sing.
In praises to their hypocrisies.
And into their communities,
These hypocrisies with them they bring.
No.
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions to exist.
Tell them their children create havoc in the schools.
They deny this.
They want better teachers.
Tell them that crime is in their minds.
And they initiate it.
They demand for more police,
To prove you wrong.
Tell them they have no identity,
And despise themselves for who they are.
And they would cuss each other out.
On their way to church.
Pray to God and then quote scriptures.
With a love for God they say they thirst.
Come out of these dens of evil...
To cuss each other out!
Spewing scriptures and devilment,
From both sides of their mouths.
Then call you 'brother' or 'sister'.
As if they are invisible.
And nothing you've seen had played out like this!
Denying what has been observable.
No.
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions to exist.
Anyone exposed to this,
To digested it for what it is...
Know what these folks don't know!
And it is not a multiple choice quiz.
These folks have no idea,
They have psychological problems.
In their heads.
Between their ears!
These folks aren't aware,
They are mentally, physically and spiritually sick!
And anything that has degraded them,
Wouldn't be in their lives...
If they did not choose this to exist!
But no!
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions...
To continue to breathe exactly as is!
As if addicted to self righteousness.
Or...
Strung out on a massive crack attack!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Continued Bait to Incite
A continued bait to incite racial tensions is thrown.
In some regions this becomes inflated.
And daily debated.
In other parts it is a way of life.
Some feel entitled...
Because their skin is either black or white.
And none of this makes sense.
Especially when fences to protect and defend them...
Are being demolished,
By those buying up the land
The Native Indians had...
Before any of this foolishness began!
Leaving those with their 'differences'
And qualified ignorance...
Blinded with exposed behinds!
Left to stand with opened hands,
Begging for a place to lay their heads.
Proving what is fed...
Comes out in the end.
To spread and fertilize,
What no one can claim they own!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Shut Down, Turn Off and Ignore
The last time someone said to me,
I couldn't do what I enjoyed in my own hometown.
That I would have to leave to find peace of mind.
With a creative outlook I had that sought activity.
If I wished to witness success believed.
Well...
That I achieved!
And it seems so many years ago.
In a place I was told I should leave and go!
Today...
As I think of those who said,
I had to go away...
To realize those dreams I had in my head.
I think of how embarrassing it must be to feel,
To discourage someone who reveals a determination...
That proves doubters only motivate,
The whims of procrastinators.
And my mama always said to me...
'I know you aint paying me no attention,
Pretending to be listening.'
And my mama was so right.
I've developed when to shut down, turn off and ignore.
Not out of disrespect.
But rather to protect my own survival and footsteps.
Some folks are inspired by deadends.
And I must admit,
The challenge of them and what they present...
Inspires me to remove obstacles.
And I have never been able to explain that to anyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Right Now I Feel a Chill
You,
And your 'ALL ABOUT ME' attitude bores.
Your self obsession with self and 'exterior' virtues...
Have stretched beyond limits.
And...
This is no longer considered as an affliction,
Of mental illness.
Something inside of you does not connect,
And is missing.
It does not exist.
And the value of what is not there but gone...
Is obvious 'it' was never there for you to have a clue.
I use to think it was me who could not express,
At times...empathy!
However,
I have never been accused of being heartless.
And when I think of you...
That is the first thing that enters my mind!
In fact,
Right now I feel a chill.
And I have yet to open the door,
To request you now exit to leave!
Please...
No cold icy to throw,
Eye staring daggers.
And...
No need for me to be less than cordial about this.
Is it?
Or reason you wish to prolong this visit?
Is it?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Standards Valued
Their leaders fed them greed.
That has led them to a brick wall,
Stalled.
And now they wish to push their ignorance to new limits.
Since their selfish way of life...
Has been severely for them,
Diminished.
They still choose to refer to 'them' as 'those'.
With every need they had from 'them'...
Stolen.
Gold and oil and treasured gems.
All of it belonging to 'those' and not 'them'.
And all their interests...
Has been for them to pick conflicts.
On foreign lands.
And now their debts made that must be paid...
Are owed to foreign hands.
And on their own shores a man elected,
To lift them out of their own swill.
Is scrutinized not for his ability...
But for his skin color.
Some have chosen to overshadow...
In pointless debates!
To smother his abilities...
And his apparent skills!
At a sacrifice to belabor their weight.
As those of small minds,
Are overheard reminding themselves...
'But he is BLACK!
How will his mind 'absorb'...
What we know from birth he lacks,
Because of that fact! '
Fools of gluttony!
With minds poisoned from sheltered environments.
Believe themselves the 'chosen ones'.
Although their evilness...
Makes them the most barbaric on Earth.
Always on a binge of defensiveness.
Always seeking enemies and terrorists.
And they fear their standards valued,
Will change!
And threaten the darkness...
They wish not to miss with a protectiveness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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