Taking Backward Moves To Make Excuses
There is no hidden desire I have,
To know what it is you think.
Or had thought!
Or the process used by you,
To generate comprehension.
I am not in doubt nor do I have questions.
However,
I will mention this for updating purposes...
Your beliefs,
Are clearly observed.
With your thoughts about yourself,
And environment not kept secret.
They surround you exposed like a bad habit.
And I know the difficulty of confronting issues,
After years of dealing with denial and addictions.
And being baited to debate the obvious,
With you or anyone else...
Would not do justice,
To a consciousness I've earned while yearning.
I've already learned the expense of my own ignorance.
Why should I reminisce in a wallowing away in visit with you?
To who's benefit would that foolishness prove?
And...
That is not a request for a response from you.
I think you perceive me as vulnerable!
I have chosen to move forward.
Taking backward moves to make excuses,
Are not, is not and will not be...
On my agenda!
To prove I can make mistakes...?
I've done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Just The Way It Is
'What makes a town,
Some would call...small? '
The minds of the people.
'Well...
If that is known,
Why do they continue to choose
To prove their ignorance? '
Maybe they are not doing that for you.
You see the others?
They are doing that with them too!
And since you are observing this,
To bring it to my attention...
Perhaps if you do not mention it again,
No one will know that you are the one out of place.
The one who criticizes their lives and the pace.
Look around...
See the blank look on their faces?
An absence of thinking,
Connecting together the process of thoughts!
Do you think what they and I have chosen to do...
Will make a difference to the very few,
Who have chosen to live peacefully...
Amongst those who have been blinded,
By a lack of identity?
When invited to a bar-be-cue,
The best thing to do...
Especially if you accept,
Is not to profess to be a vegetarian!
Or begin to sermonize about the eating of cows...
And the drinking of milk.
Who do you 'think' would be considered the fool?
So maybe they are not out to prove anything...
To you or to me or to anyone else!
That's just the way it is here!
Just like some places have Palm Trees.
And here you will find Maple and Pine!
Now...
If you chose to move away from all of this.
My guess is that no one here would mind...
Or notice.
That's just the way it is,
Here!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lived To Witness
No longer do I awaken with questions,
To doubt yesterdays that have gone.
What benefit from this would I get,
If I allowed myself to sit...
And not appreciate each dawn,
Lived to witness that comes along.
Each moment I am given to move ahead,
I do!
And those who refuse truth to do as they choose,
Would not improve my outlook.
What will remaining fixed to reminisce prove?
I have no purpose to value or live 'today' as I exist?
No longer do I awaken with questions,
To doubt yesterdays that have gone.
What benefit from this would I get,
If I allowed myself to sit...
And not appreciate each dawn,
Lived to witness that comes along.
My purpose is to live.
Give.
And from the doing of it,
Receive blessings to me that benefit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wonder of His Creations
Maintain you beliefs!
The ones that keep you restricted,
To limits and isolation.
I am not here to debate your outlook,
Or your fate!
That has been done,
By an indoctrination you satiate.
And baited to remain...
In a routine that you maintain that sustains,
Your joy!
Nor am I the one to convince,
That a higher consciousness...
Expands and not condenses.
To retrieve and leave those arguments...
Left behind walls and locked up fences.
Subtracting and contracting minds,
As is observed and evidenced.
Since I've already witnessed,
The lack of benefit...
To that restrictiveness.
Maintain you beliefs!
The ones that keep you restricted,
To limits and isolation.
I have been there myself.
That is why I have chosen,
The wealth of mind expansion.
Receiving all of God's gifts,
With blessings He delivers.
Without religious affiliation.
Or congregating with those...
Who oppose how I have chosen
To be devoted!
I know He is 'there'...
And so am I,
Here where He has delivered.
And I know the Almighty exists.
Without debating such 'wonder' of His creations.
Or where He chooses to sit,
Within His Kingdom.
So wherever you go to supply your satisfactions...
May you keep attraction them to fulfill your needs!
I am not the one to plead with you,
Which road taken...
Leads to Him any quicker.
Since my insight tells me His presence is near.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chatterbox
Many say they can deliver,
But only few can receive.
Lips flapping nonstop...
Don't believe!
Ears may be wide open,
But the brain is shut closed.
Ignorance exposed...
Is there to show!
People think they get their blessings,
By listening to a preacher.
Fidgeting and sitting,
While nothing's sinking in.
Schools may hire teachers,
To give lessons to the kids.
But nobody cares,
What's in these quick heads of kids.
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
And 'this' is apparent.
Absent parents on the scene,
Pretending caring done is...their 'thing'.
With chatterbox nonstop...
As if a corn popping machine.
And that caring's not there,
Anywhere to be seen.
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
'I do! '
That's not enough.
'Me too! '
That's not enough.
'We do,
And we make it our business to prove it! '
Chatterbox!
'I do.'
Chatterbox!
'Me too.'
Chatterbox!
'We do...
And, so do you! '
Chatterbox!
'I do.'
Chatterbox!
'Me too.'
Chatterbox!
'We do...
And, so do you! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Game Ready Folks
Game ready folks,
Have a ridiculous response...
For every nonsensical mindless thing done,
They do.
As if strategically placed on paths to annoy,
For reasons to test...
Those taking their lives seriously.
If one listens to excuses that the elders make,
One no longer questions why the younger ones...
Disrespect and have no discipline.
Especially if an increase of immaturity,
Is shown to be expressed by those decades older...
Than elemenatry school aged children.
But a fool kept in practice never seems to wisen.
And the excuses used...
Prove,
One strapped with an enforced handicap...
Will always seek assistance from others,
To undermine another with their charm.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Between You And Me
I already know the deal AND routine.
So there is nothing...
Nothing at all,
You have to prove to me!
UNLESS...
You are absolutely convinced,
Pleasing me with a brand new Mercedes,
Will remove every single doubt...
You may perceive I have.
And make that with a supply of gasoline.
An all paid expense account,
To use at my leisure.
And...
Let's see,
An incredible deliverance of all my foolish desires met.
At 'my' convenience.
And,
Oh yes!
You needn't doubt my undying love and devotion,
Faithfully kept at all times.
I'll keep this between you and me.
Just in case someone else thinks,
You've chosen me as your most favorite child...
From all the many millions you have created.
Deal?
'Or...? '
Or?
OR what?
'No deal.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Revealing a Thought Process
I am at no advantage,
When revealing a thought process.
Although doing so,
Has helped me to quickly digest...
Observations with my eyes,
Without protesting what others deny.
Neither am I protected by an intelligence.
I would be if others in my environment,
Were not so eager to display a taste...
For debasing themselves,
In applied foolishness.
And a rush to prove sterotypes for them fit.
Why do I feel honored and not cursed by this?
Perhaps it is an identity and pride I carry,
That comforts my peacefulness.
And being labelled arrogant,
Amongst those without purpose exposed...
That is seen as meant,
Leaves few left respected for their dignity.
And I just have this need,
To be the best that I can be!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Is it Ever Ready?
When is it ever ready...
For us to make up our minds,
It is time to get what we put off
To get something done?
When is it ever ready...
For us?
When is it ever ready...
To stop and wait.
For us to negotiate,
This is the moment...
That has arrived,
For us to get up and move?
Just to prove we can delay
Another day...
To make an excuse,
To collect with the other excuses...
Made!
When is it ever ready?
Time seems to never be!
It seems to do what it chooses without us!
To experience...
Or ignore completely.
As we sit to cuss its noncommitment.
Observing it as it cares less,
About how some of us waste it...
With more uselessness!
To eventually confess.
When is it ever ready?
That is probably not a concern...
Nor a priority,
Or on its agenda.
Time is man made.
To set limits...
As if man allows 'it' to benefit,
And exist.
To put up with a man's nonsense.
Or a woman's.
Either way...
No one can say,
They have more of it...
Than anyone.
To just let it sit!
And ask of it...
If and When it is ever ready!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Long Rusted In Shifted Dust
Once one stops!
A beginning that had started...
For them comes to an end.
Although not official,
There is something about a lifelessness...
That becomes wasted on debate.
As the advancing of Sunset,
On them dims.
And yet,
Those appearing to be lifeless...
Seem to be all over the place,
Taking up space.
With activities insignificant.
But to what degree of insignificance?
This delays...
A validation to be confirmed.
And...
Observed to be wasting debates,
As time most valued...
Slips from them quickly.
While they remain in the process...
Of procrastinating efficient and effectively.
Although not official,
There is something about a lifelessness...
That becomes wasted on debate.
'Can we move on from this agenda.
To prioritize the last agenda...
That upheld the one prior to that?
Facts are facts.
And rest assured...
Progress,
As 'we' know it...
IS being made! '
And too late it becomes,
For the ones to get things done.
When a time that is perceived is kept,
To be borrowed and used at one's discretion.
With life's lessons that many come to learn,
Dismissed by those...
Who have chosen to invoke,
A reviewing of a point of view...
Long rusted in shifted dust!
And from a nonexistence...
The winds of time has blown away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sinking From the Weight
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
And...
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
Is it an offense or a needless crime,
To defy fighting against...
Your own kind?
With selected ones chosen,
To occupy our minds.
For purposes to protect.
Their interests kept.
Even though we who are selected...
To do these deeds,
By those in sheltered discreet...
We remain despised,
By those who disrespect.
And fed from birth,
To know when to cheat...
Spy, lie and use alibis.
Is it an offense,
To not follow rules...
That make no sense.
As we must listen to 'authorities'
Who attempt to convince.
If a certain status given,
Is that of a minority....
Concerns of the majority,
Is a worthless expense.
And given less attention.
Is any seriousness mention.
Since no rights have been given,
A worthiness to drive 'unimportant' lives.
You may ride as a passenger...
But not permitted,
To make decisions from front seats.
And to speak,
Only when spoken to!
With a preferred silence.
To make what is done...
Even sweeter to complete.
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
And...
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
Is it an offense or a needless crime.
To defy fighting against,
Your own kind?
Or abandon ship,
Sinking from the weight...
Of evidence there is ignorance.
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
And...
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Optometry
If you had not been a poet,
What other field of endeavor...
Would you have chosen to pursue?
'Without a doubt,
It would have been optometry.'
Why that particular field of study?
'It seems as though everyday,
I find myself in a debate with someone...
Over that which is clearly observed.
And,
They deny seeing the obvious.'
Maybe it is not so obvious to them.
'That's why,
Optometry would have been my chosen field of study.'
It's never too late you know.
'It is for a lot of people.
Many will never see the forest for the trees.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Anyone Anticipating to be Convinced
There is nothing about this train that moves backward.
When the conductor announced, 'All Aboard'...
That was not a question.
That was not a wish for anyone to make a decision.
That was a statement made with no debate.
If someone hesitated hoping to occupy a seat...
They will be greeted with a vacancy complete with space.
Leaving them with an isolated emptiness.
The affect of seriousness has taken place!
And plans delayed are plans too late,
For anyone thinking the trip they wish to take...
Will be shared with others confused,
About which direction is a forward movement...
One should have observed and kept up the pace.
Plans delayed are plans too late,
For anyone anticipating to be convinced...
And motivated.
To realize and experience,
The importance of their lives!
Those that have made up their minds to do this...
Are already enjoying fresh new scenes.
Without issues to unpack from old baggage carried.
Or reflective thoughts about who might have been left behind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Glued To Fractured Values
The same people who remain glued,
To fractured values that no longer to them soothe...
As they use to completely do,
Are also the very same people who would love to be convinced...
They have the power to put others on the defensive.
To prove to themselves that every belief they have kept,
Continues to make sense.
If only someone would aggressively step forward,
To admit they have no questions to leave them doubting...
About which beliefs to keep faithfully.
Among the few of those beliefs they have left.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Negotiation
Time does not come to us,
To face...
With a choice to erase,
What is disliked as we choose.
Some make attempts to do this...
With an encouragement that comes...
To do our best to replace the effects of it,
With a nip and tuck done.
For purposes to stun!
There is no such thing,
As eternal youth.
Although foolishness can come to stay...
Like a long lost relative,
One prays lovingly to God...
That the abrupt affect of this visit,
Would get the hint and go away.
Surprises dropped upon our doorsteps,
At these times...
Are regrettably unappreciated.
And aging isn't respected either,
As an accepted part of life.
Too many perceive the appearance of it...
Is more like a death sentence,
One wishes would take a quick flight or a hike!
It's like the act of taking something back.
Or a wish of this a possibility.
But undetermined is the one,
As to how this is done effectively.
And from what or whom...
In negotiation will agree,
The taking back of what has gone forward...
Will satisfy the laws of nature,
With the granting of fantasies.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not At Your Expense. But Mine
That's strange.
And I am glad you brought the subject up.
You're not the only one who has said,
I have a tendency to others down.
As if to selectively pass judgement.
And,
Ironically enough...
Those who have said that,
Prefer if I kept their masquerading flaws...
And blemished insecurities they choose to keep hidden,
Under pretentions they believe discreet.
Left desperately closeted,
From anyone speaking about them.
Those not so 'cliquishly' involoved in their profiling.
I agree.
And I do not see a positive thing about it.
But tell me this...
Who actually benefits,
From the abundance of it I see?
Or is it just an accepted way of life,
Wanted to flaunt on socialized 'trips'...
That has its own uniqueness I am missing.
Is this some kind of fashion statement...
Only known to those,
Participating in this region of the country?
It is not like it is a secret.
Unknown to media moguls, entertainers...
And those snapping out of their mental,
And physical addictions.
Or is it,
And this you might agree...
Is it,
That when I am not around...
You make it a point to mention my comments,
To over emphasis them with negativity...
To help generate your own following?
Is that what you do?
Because I have noticed you do that with skill.
But...
Not at your expense.
But mine.
Although...
I don't make my comments to gain attention.
I just observe and make statements based upon fact.
And you?
You name dropp and exaggerate with impersonations.
As if to mock is your profession.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Casting One's Own Shadow
Call your trip whatever you wish.
I've learned not to debate, argue...
Or 'franchise' anyone's opinion,
As if to make mine!
Nor do I agree to evaluate...
Someone's statement,
Whether a line given to solicit...
An opinion I've given in anything I've written.
I've learned an exchange of experiences,
Is not a possibility.
And I've learned this by listening.
And this many people seldom do.
I've been up and down too many times,
To discover my own comprehension...
About life.
My life and how 'my' life is connected.
When I found criticisms made of me by others...
'Added' to my understanding,
If right, wrong or indifferent when given...
I still had to brush my own teeth.
Walk on my own two feet!
And be accountable for my own actions.
I stopped making excuses,
When they began not to make sense to me.
I spent more time defending myself...
Instead of living my life.
And I began to do that...
When I started to appreciate myself.
And 'if' I was to give my advice to anyone...
AND...
I did say 'if'.
I would say this...
If anyone finds they are seeking acceptance,
On a path they have chosen to take...
It is not a path they have chosen.
How can it be?
How can someone declare something theirs,
When others can do the same thing thing?
If voices can be heard?
Footprints can be seen?
And the path one takes has already been paved?
That is following...
Not casting,
One's own shadow!
I do not wish,
I demand people to get out of my light.
What would be the point,
If I am patiently waiting for someone else to decide...
Whether or not they want to move out of it?
That kind of time I am not giving to anyone!
Period.
I've learned many lessons.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Holding Onto The Reins
Easy it becomes to discredit and despise,
A thought process from one that is done.
If the process is committed to reveal outcomes.
And if those outcomes stated,
Become a cause for others to debate...
With a seeking of a way,
To label those statements created...
Crazed.
And initiated by someone who is inebriated.
Exhilarated by an addiction of ego.
Only time will find the ones debating,
With nothing left to say.
Observations deliberatedly overlooked...
Often haunts,
The status quo with a dismay that daunts.
A way of life assumed to be lived...
Rarely escapes from becoming outdated.
And if not lived on a daily basis,
Offends those attempting to keep it unchanged.
And the ones who have chosen to acknowledge this,
Seem not to defend a lack of acceptance.
Since there is no apparent reason to prove an intoxication.
Knowing how difficult it is to convince,
Those accustomed to riding in horse drawn carriages...
There can be a smoother ride had by all,
By an updating of their vehicles now pulled by engines.
To roll upon air inflated tires.
Many electrified and others simply using the adding of gas.
Some have their grasp on the past so tight,
They keep beliefs with wishes kept...
That those who wish to usher them into the light,
Are those too jealous to admit they are envious...
Of those holding onto the reins of the horses they guide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With and Without a Show of Interest
What is it that I want from you?
Consistency!
Since I've been giving that,
For as long as I can remember.
With and without a show of interest.
Or a sign of gratitude from you.
Why am I doing this...
And at my own expense?
It is an investment of patience.
And soon,
I am going to relax and enjoy the dividends.
And while you make the same excuses,
You have chosen to do...
Consistency I wished and wanted from you,
Might take place in my memory.
But don't bet on it!
I've been too motivated to prove to myself,
All I need is discipline and focus to achieve.
And...
Well,
I was hoping you would recognize that too!
Since I only have one pair of sleeves I keep rolled up...
I'm not trying to devote my attention all over the place.
Especially if my business,
Is taking care of it!
And not in persistent excuse making.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Baited To Fear Everything Unknown
Being perceptive is rarely accepted,
When associating with others...
More accustomed to neglecting,
Their own thought process.
To rely upon what comes to comfort.
And is easily for them to quickly access.
Sharing insight with those less connected,
Will often initiate an unwanted debate.
To prove what is perceived not yet to be seen,
Will actually take place and on a specific date.
Especially with those who are baited to fear,
Everything unknown but claim to have faith!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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