Something Genuine That Has Rare Vitality
Each will come to have their turn.
To positions to appease egos.
And each will eventually...
Do their best,
To keep their practiced plagiarisms...
Hopefully to continue to go undetected,
To become recognized as a slice of innovation.
Cleverly kept in disguise.
And provides them their motivation.
Although,
This activity...
Leaves the taste for the originator,
To return to give what has been yearned.
Something genuine.
That has rare vitality!
And none are able to reproduce it,
With an ambiance...
That spices the atmosphere with such an array of flavors.
And I know I do this very well.
I've been behind the scenes auditioning for too long!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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That Genuine Factor
Many lack that genuine factor.
And the ones who overcompensate,
With a masquerading...
Seem suspiciously to be protecting,
Insecurities they would rather erase...
Than to be placed in awkward positions.
We all have flaws some have evaluated.
And at times wished them not to be seen at all.
But eventually we can not fake them without facing,
A participating with others...
On some kind of regular basis.
Affording us an escape from ways that isolate.
Many lack that genuine factor.
And the ones who overcompensate,
With a masquerading...
Seem suspiciously to be protecting,
Insecurities they would rather erase...
Than to be placed in awkward positions.
'Some of my best friends were once 'Negroes'.
Now they are 'Black'.
Should I have said that?
Or do you prefer something much more updated?
I'm doing the best I can to accept diversity.
You may not believe this...
But just the other day I had my first taste,
Of chitterlings and collard greens.
And I must say...
They were quite delicious.'
~There's nothing like making that first impression.
Is this your first visit to the 21st century? ~
'Of course not.
You people are so...
Entertaining.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Fighter For the Right to Love
If you want to give me anything.
Give me something to enhance my peace of mind.
Continual platitudes don't do it!
A barrage of compliments...
I can see right through it!
Flattery is okay,
For those with egos to display.
But my needs are simplistic.
As are my desires.
I'm not one to race off into the woods...
To show how good I am,
At making bonfires!
Show me you can be yourself.
That's all I want to see.
I'm not asking for your resumé.
I wish to discover your hidden qualities.
And as long as you allow yourself,
To invite and welcome a pretense.
I'm going to do the same to you.
And when I do that...
I'm not seeking to make sense.
Not at all.
So...
If you want to give me anything.
Give me something to enhance my peace of mind.
Give me something I can return to you!
Like being real and genuine!
'And I didn't mean for those last lines to rhyme.
But you know I am a writer.
Did you know I was a fighter...
For the right to love, too? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I think we always move from imitation to assimilation to innovation, but I can't name you 20 people outside those we've already recognized who ever got to point three: innovation.
quote by David Baker

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many people around the President have sizeable egos before entering government, some with good reason. Their new positions will do little to moderate their egos.
quote by Donald Rumsfeld

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Island Fever
Island fever
I think Ive got a touch of island fever
I do believe I feel a bit sauteed
This morning I was just some nonbeliever
Tonight I feel Ive joing a wild crusade
I never thought of life as being breezy
I never thought of time as time to play
I never thought that I could take it easy
But all those feelings changed for me today
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Are finding their way to my brain
Layers and layers of costumes and players
That make my whole life look insane
Palm trees and views I cant believe
Why would I ever want to leave?
I think Ill take my shoes off and go walking
Down beside the caribbean sea.
I like the funny sounds of parrots squawking
I think I hear a hammock calling me.
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
I think Ive got a touch of island fever...
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Mud That Cheapens
Using someone who has been fully awake,
Is difficult to perceive...
For those who have been skating,
Through their lives.
With their eyes miraged on an oasis.
And equally,
It is not easy to take...
Those who fake their lives to live,
On a day to day basis.
Seeking a slice of homemade apple pie.
Or a taste of deliciously baked chocolate cake.
To see things as they are...
Few do!
And that is understood,
By the many escape mechanisms...
Many can pick from which to choose.
But to continue to use someone fully awake,
Eventually leaves feelings left to be hurt.
To experience heartache.
With the dragging of someone's integrity,
Unnecessarily through mud that cheapens.
And with a weakening done by a slinging of dirt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Imposing Upon A Patience Given
Time is too precious,
To give to others to waste...
As they bask within their egos,
Procrastinating what moves to make...
While imposing upon a patience given.
Time is too precious,
To delay an agenda prioritized...
With eyes set to realize,
Things needing to get done.
And accompanied by motivation.
Some dismiss this discipline.
If not familiar with initiative.
Some will excuse themselves from this.
Thinking motivation is a thing that is wished.
Time is too precious,
To give to others to waste...
As they bask within their egos,
Procrastinating what moves to make...
While imposing upon a patience given.
Some dismiss this discipline.
If not familiar with initiative.
Some will excuse themselves from this.
Thinking motivation is a thing that is wished.
Much like feeding a craving to quickly satisfy a whim...
With the hopes someone mentions a noticeable difference.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Genuine Praises
Praises are genuine when given,
With no intent for any return.
I love her and my love is genuine
As I continue though ignored.
(23.04.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Shocking Are Some Scenes Seen
So shocking are some scenes seen,
Downtown
Where the people there will congregate,
As if auditioning
The latest of less wearing,
To expose their 'goods'
With a caring that is obviously,
A wish to expose just about everything.
So shocking are some scenes seen,
Downtown.
Where not only jaws drop!
But eyes too can be viewed to pop.
One has to be there to witness this.
To see what can not be for most to believed.
And yesterday what is exposed today,
Would promptly be a reason
For the calling of police,
And sirens heard to flood the streets
To arrest those for their nakedness
AND a disturbing of the peace
But
So shocking are some scenes seen,
Downtown and all around
Where the people there and everywhere,
Will congregate
As if auditioning,
The latest of less wearing of anything.
To expose their 'goods',
With a caring that is obviously,
A wish to expose just about everything.
And many become offended,
If an attention given is 'not' mentioned.
'Excuse me.
Can you tell me what that 'use' to be?
Whatever that is you are barely wearing'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Unable To Tell The Difference
Not many do I regard as being original.
Too many are followers.
With 'that' as a wish...
To appease those unable to tell the difference.
Very few are daring enough to innovate.
So many minds are limited and faked...
With a patience that awaits for someone,
To create to enable them to plagiarize the taste.
And the obviousness of this can not be dismissed.
Not by those who know the aspects of what's genuine.
And that authenticity always has with it fresh air.
Not many do I regard as being original.
Too many are followers.
With 'that' as a wish...
To appease those unable to tell the difference.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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List of Deeds
Why should I slow my stride,
To identify for you...
Over and over,
From your point of view...
What has already been done.
I will not succumb to that activity.
Nor will I continue to bleed.
And that's what you wish to see from me.
But I've overcomed that need to feed...
What is now too available,
To be lived and not become dissected...
To appease your insecurities.
And that is not on my list of deeds,
I have just begun to touch.
As much as you feel I should ignore them!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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A Temptation For Us All
I reached for you without any hesitation and I must reminisce.
You tempted me with your promise of sweet unadulterated bliss.
This temptation sometimes can not be controlled, almost everyone can relate.
This temptation I write of can strike most of us from nine to ninety, so do not hate.
This temptation I write about is the magical food we call chocolate, and it's a great sensation.
Chocolate comes in an array of sizes, colors and flavors, to my great frustration.
There is milk, Swiss, dark, white, and a vast array of other flavors of chocolate for us all to try.
On this temptation I can not lie, but if I don't get any chocolate soon I feel like I might just die.
There is even chocolate covered bacon to my fascination.
Oh chocolate, you lure me with the greatest temptation.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight

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Lost Within the Loop
Lost within the loop.
Giving up mentalities,
To TV programs and commercial teases.
Disconnected completely from world affairs.
And attached to that which keeps them latched...
Onto a lack of concern.
Lost within the loop to spin...
A regurgitation over and over again.
With such thoughtlessness that disregards a seriousness.
Burning to a crisp...
An effective comprehending consciousness.
And they all in conformity came to agree this activity...
Should not and would not be taken personally!
Leaving them to question and scratching their heads,
When the monotony interrupted...
Would for them return.
To continue a comfort they missed and yearned...
In a dumbed down and safe existence.
Managed and learned in a fantasized survival.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Whom Asked Who For Whose Opinion?
You are so not there!
Totally irregular.
And slipping away from significance.
Have you been taking your vitamins?
Something is dipping into your mineral intake.
Something is slowing down,
Your motivation and drive.
I recommended the oysters!
Did they stimulate...
To give the acquired rise?
Apparently not.
Unless that's in disguise.
You are not there!
No perk.
No bounce.
No tightened butt!
Your 'abs' are flabbing.
Plus that gut has loosened up!
And please...
Put a towel over those breasts.
I'd like to use the suntan lotion...
While there is still some left.
Have you stopped dancing,
With your thoughts of romance?
You better do something quick.
That thickness you carry...
Does not get approving glances,
When you prance.
In fact...
You're beginning to look like a whale,
Beached in spandex pants.
Have you been taking your vitamins?
Something is dipping into your mineral intake.
Something is slowing down,
Your motivation and drive.
I recommended the oysters!
Did they stimulate...
To give the acquired rise?
Apparently not.
Unless that's in disguise.
Something in your head...
Says you are attractive.
But it lies!
Even the flies,
Have refused that garbage.
No need to get upset!
Whom asked who for whose opinion?
I'm the one holding onto faith,
I can give you a compliment.
Do you know how long that has been?
I'm the one that should be pissed...
Not you!
And I say that with love!
Now roll over...
So I can enjoy the sunset!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop
'Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!
The great big greedy nincompoop!
How long could we allow this beast
To gorge and guzzle, feed and feast
On everything he wanted to?
Great Scott! It simply wouldn't do!
However long this pig might live,
We're positive he'd never give
Even the smallest bit of fun
Or happiness to anyone.
So what we do in cases such
As this, we use the gentle touch,
And carefully we take the brat
And turn him into something that
Will give great pleasure to us all–
A doll, for instance, or a ball,
Or marbles or a rocking horse.
But this revolting boy, of course,
Was so unutterably vile,
So greedy, foul, and infantile
He left a most disgusting taste
Inside our mouths, and so in haste
We chose a thing that, come what may,
Would take the nasty taste away.
'Come on!' we cried, 'The time is ripe
To send him shooting up the pipe!
He has to go! It has to be!'
And very soon, he's going to see
Inside the room to which he's gone
Some funny things are going on.
But don't, dear children, be alarmed;
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed,
Although, of course, we must admit
He will be altered quite a bit.
He'll be quite changed from what he's been,
When he goes through the fudge machine:
Slowly, the wheels go round and round,
The cogs begin to grind and pound;
A hundred knives go slice, slice, slice;
We add some sugar, cream, and spice;
We boil him for a minute more,
Until we're absolutely sure
That all the greed and all the gall
Is boiled away for once and all.
Then out he comes! And now! By grace!
A miracle has taken place!
This boy, who only just before
Was loathed by men from shore to shore,
This greedy brute, this louse's ear,
Is loved by people everywhere!
For who could hate or bear a grudge
Against a luscious bit of fudge?'
poem by Roald Dahl

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Daddy Can I Turn This?
There is a button and there's a switch
There is a needle and there's a dial
There is a lever I want to lift
And still you treat me like I'm a child
Daddy can I turn this?
Daddy can I turn this?
Will it be very dangerous?
Or will it taste nice?
You wash your hands with perfume and spice
I'll tell you when I want your advice
Daddy can I turn this?
Daddy can I turn this?
Is anybody acting your age?
You got a girl you keep in a cage
You give her present after a while
A birthday cake containing a file
Daddy can I turn this?
Daddy can I turn this?
The flashing lights go running 'round and 'round
It spits out money
It tastes like honey
So drink it down
It leaves the slightest chemical taste
It could be most unfortunate
Earrings that jangle before they're seen
She slaps your face like a tambourine
Daddy can I turn this?
Daddy can I turn this?
Daddy can I turn this?
Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy
song performed by by Elvis Costello

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Taste Of Life
what i have in my hand
is a slice of pineapple
it is sweet
its sweetness lingers
in my tongue
and sticks to my brain
it is simply a slice
just a taste of this bigger life
ahead of us
i have another slice
to hand to you
take it
why waste some time
on bitter herbs
and sour grapes?
what i have is just a slice
of sweet pineapple
take it now
it is sweet
what do we have next?
we shall wait and see
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Everywhere They Lead
It is clearly evidenced,
As to which minds are demented.
Which egos are adorned by limitation.
And whose priorities have been affected by insecurity.
Poisoned minds are blocking the strides of progress.
With digressive displays of ignorance.
That hampers those of intelligent intentions...
To deal with the postering of idiots!
It is clearly evidenced,
As to which minds are demented.
Which egos are adorned by limitation.
And whose priorities have been affected by insecurity.
Morons like this,
Have titles and positions all over the place.
And everywhere they 'lead'...
There is left unbelievable confusion.
Just to get around their incompetence,
Leaves those with a thought to think...
Doing their best,
Not to prove they can do it!
And...
To keep themselves as far away as possible,
From the mess the mindless have created.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Key
There comes a time in one's life,
When silence becomes the preferred company.
Joined by a peace of mind invited.
Providing what has been needed,
To have gone unrecognized as if in disguise...
Fo so long.
Feeling whole and complete...
Is the key that unlocks a happiness released.
And to feel whole AND complete...
Can not be replaced by 'things' one seeks.
With a doing of what one pleases,
Feels so good.
It is nice in one's life,
When silence becomes invited.
And stays as one's preferred company.
With a peace that can not be described.
To slice with a taste of it day and night,
Feels so good.
'Excuse me.
It is time for my slice of peace.
And I can't afford to miss it.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Long Before the Re-writes Made By 'Historians
Who really wants to be 'another'
Of what had already existed?
And what motivation is there...
For someone to make attempts,
To shadow footsteps...
Without that drive to individualize,
One's own innovation meant.
Is that why so many find it easy to follow,
And complain?
Yet strain their brains to redo in research.
Than it is to pave a path that one can claim.
To make it easier to lay the blame,
If what is done doesn't achieve the same result.
And a thief only can steal.
Not create.
A mess...
Yes!
And that produces long lasting effects.
And the reason why those who pioneer are first jeered.
But later cheered by those who reap the benefits,
From the ones who do not profit at all.
Or are even mentioned for their initial efforts!
Others wish to hold their egos high.
And build their discoveries,
Based on 'myths' and prefabricated lies!
Much like what has been done to the Eygptians?
Who have been literally dismissed and 'gyped'!
And not given full credit,
For their mind numbing inventions.
Occurring many thousands of years...
In advanced civilizations.
Long before the re-writes made by 'historians'
Mysteriously appeared,
From freshly dusted archives.
Inside age treated tombs!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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