Stacked Upon Their Own Shelves
Observe and see for yourself...
Those of competence imposing rumored threats.
As the ones who are exposing their insecurities,
Do their best to unravel at the seams...
In foolish protests to recreate fantasies they dream.
They begin to show signs of despising themselves.
And nipping away at their own neighbors,
Because of what they've purchased...
To keep stacked upon their own shelves.
And barking loudly in anger their dissatified choices.
Crumbling quicker than overbaked cookies kept.
Their minds have gone.
All common sense has left.
And they expect what they've done to be corrected.
And it gets harder to keep them envisioned,
Objectively and focused as a people to respect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Based Upon Appearances And Not Technique
As if children fighting over crumbs left,
On plates once stacked with cookies...
No one can get near the kitchen to clean it.
Or restore the cleanliness of its presence.
Since an argument has ensued,
As to who should do what with a doing to do...
To recreate the flavor of the cookies once munched.
And who is best qualified to imitate the recipe.
Based upon appearances and not technique or skills.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A pinch of Salt
A title does not signify
you are in fact a gentleman.
Aristocrats can cheat and lie
as readily as any man.
alleged degrees don’t guarantee
that you possess intelligence
They can be purchased easily
by those who lack the common sense
To know that titles and degrees
although intended to impress.
Are counterfeit as currencies
which are in fact quite valueless.
You can’t expect to get respect
because you a titled man.
I see no reason to accept
your claim to be a gentleman.
Some people are fooled easily.
Accept your claims at face value
but some are wise enough to see
that what you claim may not be true.
A scholar and a gentleman
is not too hard to recognise.
I’m’ sure you will find that you can.
If you just use your ears and eyes.
Do not be fooled by their pretence.
The claims they cannot verify
Rely upon your common sense
The inner voice you can’t deny.
Why should you show them your respect.
They show but small respect for you.
Its wiser to be circumspect
until they prove their claims are true.
13/07/2009 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Daring To Be Defeated
People refusing to listen,
Create their own dilemmas.
They believe an enforcement done,
Of their wishes...
Retrieves a satisfaction,
As expectations are identified.
They lie to themselves and expect understanding.
Foolish are their delusions.
But an acceptance to be corrected...
Is taken for criticisms refused to enhance a growth.
People like this want to feel protected,
Like a child caught in a lie.
With a tantrum to come that is provoked.
And the circumstances they must face,
They don't do that!
They rather run to hide inside their minds...
Where trappings of safety begin to take place.
'I don't care if you don't believe me.
I don't care...'
And alone they weep!
People refusing to listen,
Create their own dilemmas.
They believe an enforcement done,
Of their wishes...
Retrieves a satisfaction,
As expectations are identified.
A stripping to expose flaws,
Is difficult to do.
A willingness to be wounded...
Speeds up the advancing of a truth.
And when truth is denied,
For something less painful to receive and accept...
A maturity to gain becomes a stagnation repeated.
With a daring to be defeated...
Conquered by insecurities,
As a surrounding wall that falsely protects.
'I don't care if you don't believe me.
I don't care...'
And alone they weep!
Stubbornly affixed to their insecurities,
Keeping them appeased and weak!
Daring to be defeated!
But defeated by a weakness...
Keeps their insecurities appeased.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fantasies Oversold When Told
Fantasies oversold when told,
Have a tendency to be difficult to re-tell...
With bits and pieces of truth injected.
A clinching to them begins.
And people become offended...
When storylines being changed,
Affect what they accept...
Has been 'common' sense.
Or different versions of them...
Are suddenly making appearances,
To convince.
Fantasies oversold when told,
Start to crack foundations...
That are molded in isolation.
And divisions of faith,
Begin with to subdivide.
And people are afraid to call fantasies lies.
The marketing of them has been too fantastic.
The ridding of them would be too drastic.
And minds confused will seek higher doses...
Of an assortment of medications once illegal,
Now obtain in beverages that attract children...
Quick to be addict to products with cute names.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If There Is Division
If there is division...
It has been envisioned,
By those who call for unity!
A unity of what?
Collective respect?
A diversity realized...
Should have that in perspective.
A unity of color?
To accomplish what with each other?
To make the same claims...
That no one lives up,
To a common name?
Or those with divergent purposes,
Should come together
And be entertained?
Or remain as crabs in a barrel?
So everyone will see to it...
No one makes any gains?
If there is division...
It has been envisioned,
By those who call for unity!
Those who have insecurities.
And believe they should be shared by all.
To continue to stall a growth process...
Those professing unity,
Can further dissect...
To feel this done as an acceptance.
And to keep those with identities,
Fearing to accomplish...
Individual opportunities.
That a collectiveness would not embrace.
Because a familiarized ignorance,
Has been replaced!
If there is division...
It has been envisioned,
By those who call for unity!
Those who seek support...
For purposes to abort any gain!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Threats To Keep A People In Grief
How can we seek solutions...
When our denials love to bask,
In a pleasing done by deceit.
How can we non-fictionalize our lives,
When fiction is all we seek.
How can we ever expect to accept the truth,
When none of it is believed.
And how is a greatness once perceived,
So willing to feed decadence...
And allow conflict and division succeed.
All of these may be questions!
But the opportunity to answer them,
Become threats to keep a people in grief.
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,
and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.
When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton
while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.
poem by Billy Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
These Are Our Neighbors
Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Knockingdownwhatcanbefoundtogetnothin gdone.
Takingoutofcontextwithawishfailurecomes!
And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.
Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithm orelies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindis guise.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!
And...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!
Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithmorel ies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindisguis e.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!
And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Expect More
Expect more,
From yourself...
Before your self respect,
becomes enclosed
Behind shut doors.
Expect more,
Not less.
When your best,
Has been ignored.
Expect more,
Or you'll be next...
Left when your intentions,
Begin to bore.
Expect more,
From those awake.
But the exchange makes them snore.
Expect more,
If a game played becomes too straight.
And you must be that whore!
To gain the attention,
Some express you adore.
Expect more...
From them and yourself to win.
In this life expect more.
Don't accept what is suspected.
Don't throw tantrums and fits...
Just to keep limits explored!
Expect more!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Partner Of Convenience
Sometimes people take on
a partner of convenience.
At first, they bluff themselves
it is because of love,
when the truth is much harder to take.
They find themselves abandoned,
something left on the shelf.
Therefore, they take on a partner
to show themselves that they are still wanted.
As the years proceed on by
things begin to show at the seams.
The things that once brought them close
are beginning to fade fast,
but still they can’t confess
to their partner the truth
for fear of ever hurting them.
4 December 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Service to This Country
If there is any experience I've had in my life,
I am most proudest to have accomplished.
Would be my service to this country,
In the military!
In the military,
I experienced true friendship.
Strict discipline.
And was taught 'why' and reasons,
I should and must respect.
The men and women from all walks of life,
Were dedicated and loyal.
And all could trust what was done,
Was to benefit the cause...
Of what was correct and upright!
Those without this experience,
Seem to be superficial, selfish.
Lacking a self respect and/or common sense.
And the military is the only institution,
Where young people grow...
Acquiring a maturity not on the common man bestowed.
And those who treat the ones of military experience...
As people who protect their interests,
And then can easily dispose.
Make foolish judgements based on temptations and whims.
And their insecurities are taken for granted!
And this clearly shows.
If there is any experience I've had in my life,
I am most proudest to have accomplished.
Would be my service to this country,
In the military!
And glad upon my life,
This has been bestowed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bugging Out
Can you believe the speed by which people seem,
To be losing their minds today?
And the acceptance of it?
Can you believe this?
'Yes I can.
That's why I wear a rabbit's foot around my neck.
A four leaf clover attached to my lapel.
I pray with faith, meditate and do yoga too.
And with my fingers kept crossed,
I am hoping 'any' common sense I have...
Stays inside of me to be daily identified.
I am hoping not to be that one,
Trying to fit in or communicate...
With anyone I have yet met who I suspect has sanity left.
Or has an ability to think independently.
I hate to be disappointed.
These are dangerous times,
For anyone exposing they have a thought process.
And a mind unaffected by a dumbdowning done.'
So...
You feel you are kept protected?
'Sometimes, yes.
Especially when I begin talking to myself.
For some reason...
When people see me doing it,
They realize I am in conference.
Immediately people quiet themselves,
As if not to disturb me.
You should try that.
It works.'
No.
I don't want anyone to 'think',
I am bugging out.
'Is it peace you want to keep?
Or your pretentions? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It's Very Rare That Cookies Would Leave Lips Unlicked
Desired wishes to keep things the way they are...
Is as foolish as an adult,
Putting dentures under a pillow...
And hoping the tooth fairy will leave,
At least twenty dollars for a row of false teeth.
To be deluded with disappointment,
Is hard to overcome when someone has this belief!
And this is the crisis...
Although exaggerated,
Some employing these devices face.
They have been abandoned to deal with unexpected realitlies,
Even though signs of them coming...
Had been quickly from their minds erased.
Leaving those with preferances...
With choices to dunk their cookies,
In fresh white milk!
Or secret wishes to dip into chocolate,
Day or night.
And no one to recommend which to dismiss.
And 'if' sins committed can be exposed for what they are,
From pulpits!
And such activities found delicious and admitted...
Whether or not consented and/or sneaked!
Then why must a thrusting done and covered up,
Can not be happily enjoyed under wet and heated sheets?
Without a guilt that comes to disturb one's sleep.
'I don't understand this at all! '
Cookies tasted in the dark...
Delivers a spark better enjoyed,
When the absence of light prevents a thorough examination.
It's very rare that cookies would leave lips unlicked,
And the beauty of mystery,
Is to let it sit until it finally disconnects from a mysteriousness...
If allowed to be left alone!
'Oh...
I see!
That is as clear as roasted pudding! '
Roasted pudding?
Ugh.
'Turn off the light.
Goodnight! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
True Gems
Talents associated,
With money that could be made...
Comes from minds fixed on dollars and cents.
And environments with them living within...
Reflect,
A lack of respect and common sense dispensed.
Those with talents and of good deed,
Are gifted beyond belief.
But overlooked are those,
With nothing glittering to expose and show.
That gleams with a material significance.
And sad are the mindsets needing this to be convinced.
However,
It is quite unfortunate that people like this...
Aren't considered the true gems of their communities.
Unless they are dripping with eye popping treasures,
That raises their influence to please those wishing to release...
Their pretentions and embellished fantasies.
'Little boy...
Would you like to sell your soul,
For the taste to parade a few trinkets? '
~Would you like to feel my foot up your ass?
I'm 'not' your little boy! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Collection Sessions
Bring back my fantasies.
You can't take those from me!
I was born to believe in them.
Don't confuse the issue...
By introducing,
A reality that I refuse.
Bring back my fantasies.
Don't remove those concepts...
Or those needs.
I was raised to accept philosophies.
Based on beliefs,
My worth was purchased...
Financed, mortgaged and taxed
With a long term lease.
I was raised to have 'things' and things I wish.
Now I'm told none of this may soon exist?
Is this a joke?
Is there a punchline with it?
If there is I just don't get it!
But I have a degree to do what I please?
All my life,
I've been teased to acquire these!
As a remedy to obtain a life of ease.
And now your saying,
My piece of pie is denied?
And it has 'moments' left before it leaves?
Who put you up to this?
To lie to me?
Bring back my fantasies.
You can't take those from me!
I was born to believe in them.
Don't confuse the issue...
By introducing,
A reality that I refuse.
What will my neighbors think?
If I show nothing that I've gained?
With repossessions I face.
And everything to lose...
Except for my shame!
In collection sessions?
My life wasn't lived for that goal to aim!
Bring back my fantasies.
Why are you torturing only me?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Has Never Been Rare
Incite,
They do.
With a barricade...
To masquerade insecurities.
It took overnight,
To fight themselves...
Over their rights!
And a greed that now sees them seething...
With heated breath felt,
Close to the nose of those they chose.
They see themselves as enemies.
Distrusted with beliefs...
That their way of life was jeopardized,
By those that despised them.
But none could do that better,
Than they do it...
To themselves!
Incite,
They do.
With a barricade...
To masquerade insecurities.
And threats like these...
They defend,
With an absence of common sense...
So obvious everywhere.
And this has never been rare.
It has not been adopted,
To address as an issue.
Sensitivities keep them conflicted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No One Has to Know You Are Not Medicated
'Their explanations are totally ridiculous.'
I know it and you know it.
But we are suppose not to show that we know.
We are to pretend we are convinced,
That what they do makes sense.
To uphold their eroding credibility.
And all we have to do is live through it.
Go through the motions.
As if what they do in our minds does not exist.
'So,
In other words...
We are to sacrifice our realities,
And keep them in a deluded pretense...
Kept with crumbling standards,
Observed but not spoken?
Live a lie...
Is that what you're saying? '
Not only live it...
Become it!
'But...
That's a sick existence! '
Ssssshhh...
No one has to know,
You are not medicated.
And that is the challenge,
You must face.
Pretending not to be disgusted,
And disgraced by it all!
Unless of course...
You decide you have no choices left.
And they perceive you as completely deranged.
Which does provide its benefits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The quiet man
A small dark man who stands alone.
He gives respect where it is due
but owes allegiance to none.
and he expects respect from you.
He has an air of confidence,
each move is made with fluid grace.
No one should doubt his competence.
A man who knows his rightful place.
Although he’s small he has no fear
he knows his own ability.
The warning signs are very clear
it is not wise to challenge me.
But if you do I’m sure he can
Show you who is the better man.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tied to Anguish and Defeat
Following close in isolated disagreement,
With every hidden creep that's ever crept...
Eyes kept focused like a trap device.
Observing a downfall in regret.
A downfall met not meant to be...
Steamrolled and heated,
On the banks of shores where fantasies are born.
And protests of empty nesters scream,
'This is not out dream! '
But whose dream was it...
To accumulate with good credit?
And debts they are forced to repay?
Debts tied to anguish and defeat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!