Thank God For The Critics
It use to bother me when I heard others say,
Who did or did not have talent.
And I believe one who breathes has skills,
Of some kind.
I like to stay in that frame of mind.
Then it dawned on me,
If those who had time to speak negatively...
Of course they would have time to pass judgement too.
And with a 'light' of insight,
I was introduced!
'These are the critics! Enjoy.'
And they seem to despise those who have gifts,
That attracts the attention they wish their efforts could.
If efforts of creativity within them exists.
Rehearsed and practiced until they are driven into fits.
But they don't work at it.
To know the experience.
Nor the requirements of self examination and honesty.
With a mix of naïveté and vulnerability unbelieved.
Keeping an accepted freshness alive.
And talents shine when this is done!
This also inspires and encourages at least 'someone'.
Thank God for the critics.
And those with talents who are inspired to resist,
The exchange done of sharp tongues.
And those with frowning lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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May I Have Another Helping of Those Delicious Critics, Please?
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I have been aware of them,
Since I began taking my first steps.
Since my first breath taken...
Was done independently.
I've heard it said,
My lifetime of actions...
By them has been disapproved.
And things I do have been ego led.
It's believed what I do,
Is done to seek attention.
Even those things I do to cleanse,
In privacy...
I care not mention.
We all have talents,
And those gifts that are given.
How I use the ones I have...
Aren't from a critic's invention.
Or maybe because of the creation of 'them'.
Who knows?
Perhaps that's what has them upset.
And if they have time like that to waste...
Don't hesitate in delay to say,
I am just getting started.
And what I've given to them to nibble...
Is just a little taste.
From a baking not completed,
Yet imaginations rate!
They have no idea,
Of who I am!
Or the making of 'me'.
And-what-that-takes!
Since I'm the cooker who does the feeding...
I know who eats!
And those served,
That ate.
Those who choose to regurgitate...
Do it without my decision given to make!
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I do admire their efforts,
But...
What's there is there for them to digest.
I'm not about to give up my peace,
Or my mind for them to test.
My eyes are clear,
And focused on my progress.
Not on things that I've done.
For purposes to keep manifested,
The days I spent in my youth...
Doing things to shock and stun,
Just for the 'hell' of having devilish fun.
Although I must admit,
There is 'something' about controversy...
That appetites my palate much more than just a bit.
'Excuse me...
I know I shouldn't.
Since I am here by invitation.
But,
May I have another helping of those delicious critics,
Please?
I can not believe they could be this delicious.
What have these critics been mixed with? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Only The Ability To Waste
There was a time,
And this was not too long ago...
When those of skills and talents,
Only had a wish to share them.
To assist others in the fulfillment,
Of seeing 'their' dreams and wishes...
Come true.
With a volunteering of their efforts denied.
And...
Without a dime of payment mentioned.
But those making decisions,
Believed the ones who would want to do this...
Only sought the getting of attention.
And refusing them they did,
To ensure they were dismissed.
Today?
How things have changed.
Today there are those who are hired,
To solicit volunteers.
With the paying of expensive media advertisements,
To attract those with talents and skills to give.
And this is done with blatant attention given,
To the ones getting paid.
With only the ability to waste funding,
To achieve nothing getting done.
But say they do there is no one willing to work for free.
And these are the same people...
Publicly declaring there is no communal unity.
'We need you! '
~For what? ~
'To volunteer your skills,
As a community service.'
~And how will my doing this,
Be of benefit to you? ~
'A job that keeps me paid and something to do.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Talents Die Easily In Africa!
Oh talents, oh talents!
Talents do die easily in Africa;
But, talents are special gifts which,
Money cannot buy.
It is a special gift,
It is in you,
You don't even need a Higher Degree for them;
Talents are everywhere on this earth.
The talents of Africa do die very often,
Who is even ready to listen to them?
The true talents of the Africans go to the drain.
Like a rain on a train,
Like an early wake up call without a view;
Life is really so strange over here in Africa.
I have a dream!
But, who will listen?
My brain is with various talents but,
Who will help me with my dreams?
Talents, talents, talents! !
Africa turns to regress in this field while,
Others do progress!
Our talents can be useful,
It's time we give a helping hand;
Oh talents, oh talents!
It's time we listen to those who have them;
Cos', we are the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Pointless Oppositions
So happy am I and pleased to see,
Others with talents to express them publicly.
When I began to do this I felt alone and strange.
Especially when people misunderstood my attempts,
To do what I desired and not seek attention to get.
Although it was part of the territory to be exposed.
I only knew of a love of it.
Ego had nothing to do what I chose!
And as years have gone by so happy am I,
To see others with 'gifts' express them in public.
I know how lonely and difficult it gets,
When others with no interests...
'Assume' they can pass judgement with senseless tests.
Hoping to discourage those born to do their best.
To only witness one determined to be who they are,
And achieve with a doing to reflect their best efforts.
So happy am I and pleased to see,
Others with talents to express them publicly.
And...
Putting to rest,
Those who protest with their pointless oppositions.
Only those who know,
Grow from those wounds to heal to show what's real.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stung By Ego
They all lay claims
On talents they have.
As if to aim their comments,
Towards someone believed
To be ego driven mad.
But anyone who is blessed
With gifts.
Understand that God
Wants them to work the ones
They have been blessed with.
To sit around and just make claims...
Only proves and displays a laziness gained.
And anyone who is not stung by ego...
Knows this sometimes,
Is not only heaven but most times hell!
As others who have visions of fame...
Are asleep to awaken,
With talents and gifts 'they' may know
Worthy of showing to produce to tell.
But seem to have less time to apply them,
And more time to find flourishing lies that swell...
Their heads!
With embellishment to relish,
Instead!
As they raise their lips in conceit,
To flap well!
As they prop up their feet,
In front of a TV.
Sitting their behinds on spreading seats,
To snack and eat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Critics?
Critics?
They do what they do best...
Undress those who create.
It is easier for them to probe,
Than appreciate.
It is a frustration of sorts,
To be boxed within boundaries.
Not knowing or understanding...
What the force behind creativity means,
Or where it begins...
With perceptions taught and conceived.
They have an awareness of it.
Or so some believe.
Although a conformity upon them visits.
But to comprehend what it is...
And why some have it and they don't,
Really makes them pissed.
Although an 'intelligence'
Once applied can hide this.
Is that why they delight in being critics?
As creators sweat to expand their wits,
Critics enjoy deploying...
A complete misunderstanding of it!
As they assist others like themselves...
Attempting to expand minds of limited demands.
Hoping this attachment,
Delivers to them someone's attention span.
And they get it!
That is why there is so many critics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Scrutinized For Their Blemishes
It is easy for many to sit back and critique,
With a judging done of those tasks...
Others produce with a doing to complete.
And if some people are prolific,
From experiences live that dictate this...
The critics are quick,
To stampede out from nowhere it seems...
With criticsms prepared,
Not to uplift or encourage...
But instead,
Demean.
But when given the opportunity to highlight their gifts,
Critics often spew excuses...
As those under microscope,
Are scrutinized for their blemishes.
Although,
Even those who enjoy themselves as critics...
Have moments they don't admit but wish,
An attention given to be critiqued...
Would validate a reason to rid their insecurities,
With a purpose in their minds that solidified their existence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inspired
Why am I seeking to be controversial?
I am not specifically seeking that at all.
However...
I am inspired to experience my life.
Enjoying the creativity that it offers.
I certainly can not sit to limit myself,
In restrictions.
I am a part of this...
Life as it is.
I am not into the correction of semantics.
Or will allow my creative aspirations,
To become diminished,
By those passing judgements.
In whispered innuendos.
And I am grateful to God...
Who has allowed my existence.
And God has not shown me a sign,
Of disapproval yet.
I suspect,
I am being encouraged!
In fact,
I am motivated to expose my nakedness.
Yes.
In a tastefulness some may reject.
But I am not here to appease the wishes of others.
I am here to deliver every aspect of my gifts.
Take them to enjoy or leave them.
But I will guarantee you this...
There will be something for your mind to tease.
And...
Something for your eyes to lick lips if you please.
And something left to solicit gossip.
To entertain those seeking controversy!
And for free.
Those who know me...
Know I stay broke.
Not a penny to show for my talents.
So don't accuse me...
For my multi-abilities.
And it is going to be there,
Everywhere!
And 'that' seems to be my destiny!
Although I am not above turning away...
Any and all,
Monetary donations!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Critics
dont look for
critics who treat
your work as an
extension of
themselves
look for critics who
give you a field
for your talent
to grow
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Who Knew? Did You? Oh...Of Course Not!
I can understand you wish not to see,
My efforts gleam and shine.
I can understand that,
Yes I do!
Because those efforts,
Getting attention I did not pursue...
Are not those of yours,
But mine.
I did not know that would become fact.
I've been too busy toiling with sweat,
To remove obstacles carried...
Too long weighted on my back.
No...
I didn't realize my conscious efforts,
Would one day get attention.
Or attract like that!
Who knew?
Did you?
Oh...
Of course not!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Stay In A Shared Mutual Interest
I would love to experience,
That initial spark of love...
With a bit of naïveté.
An innocence that stays,
With a freshness...
That doesn't soon go away.
I would love to experience,
That delicious kiss...
As if that kiss was the first.
And thirst for more,
From that one I adored.
I would love to feel my heart pound.
My speech hurried by incomplete sentences.
And be looked upon,
As if I am the only one in view existing.
I would love to experience,
That initial spark of love...
With a bit of naïveté.
I would,
If I could only forget those times that came...
As I stood babbling to bore,
Until I became ignored.
To be left without a hint of an explanation.
This time I wish,
For just a 'bit' of naïveté...
And not total 'stupiditay'
To stay in a shared mutual interest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Based Upon Materialistic Concepts
I can not call my breathing a hobby.
Nor do I relate,
To those who associate creativity...
To a dollar bill.
And there are many like that.
Attached to things.
Disconnected spiritually...
To any talents or gifts,
To them God brings!
When asked how much I 'make'...
I get irate with folks like that.
And those who say they have no time to create...
I know right away,
With them I do not relate.
And those who say they have faith in God...
To only admit,
They do not accept God given talents,
Are their main jobs.
I have limited patience.
Knowing from them,
I can only expect a production of excuses.
Based upon materialistic concepts.
And as I age...
From folks like this,
I wish to keep my distance.
And God kept pleased!
Since He is the only One,
To know where I come from.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Victims Of Suspicion
Many will not budge,
Unless a guaranteed dollar can be made.
This affords them pulchritude credits.
To earn and socialize at the same time.
It is rare to find anyone,
Donating sincerety AND their time.
There are many who do volunteer their efforts.
And become satisfied in the sacrificing of themselves.
Others could not think of this...
Unless a need for attention came with it.
And those who do give of themselves and talents,
Readily become victims of suspicion.
There 'has' to be SOMETHING connected to their giving.
Since why would one do it...
If it is obvious they are giving away what they themselves need?
'Medic? Medic?
There is another 'sicko' over here! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without That Kind Of Interruption
I've had those in my life...
Who believed,
I should be fulfilling 'their' dreams.
I should be acting on stages.
Or be seen on movie screens.
I've even had those,
Who have heard my compositions.
And thought I should sing.
Or because of my voice...
I'd make a great announcer,
On a radio station of my choice.
But,
I've always been a writer.
And that few people knew.
Although I am surprised by that...
Because for years my comments have appeared,
In local newspapers for anyone to view.
And that's a fact.
There is not one talent I have,
That I have not exposed.
And I still have my own dreams to pursue.
While those passing judgement,
And offering their nonsolicited critique...
Have yet to succeed.
Because they are in the business of others,
Like most gossip driven nonproductive folk.
And most of my life I have been quite happy,
Validating my skills.
With a doing of it,
Locally.
Nationally.
And internationally too.
But I must admit I am uncomfortable,
Bragging about what it is I do.
And many people do not have this as an issue.
With the hope that only a few 'selected' knew.
'IF I had your talents,
The whole world would know who I am.'
~Maybe that is the reason,
I have been given them.
To let them evolve...
Without that kind of interruption.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sometimes Questioned When Revealed
I've seen birds with wings,
Use them.
I've known people with talents,
And God given gifts...
Use them for a purpose.
And intent.
I've heard those with wisdom,
Share insights.
I've seen a commercial jet,
Take off...
Weighted with passengers,
And luggage...
Soar from a standstill,
To rise in the skies in flight.
But I've seen many people,
From behind as they walked.
And I wondered to myself...
If only they could see,
From my point of view and eye sight...
Those wide shadows cast,
On the sidewalks...
In broad daylight!
I've seen birds with wings,
Use them.
I've known people with talents,
And God given gifts...
Use them as well.
However...
To spread around,
Pound for pound...
What some people carry,
That has yet in their minds...
Been introduced to marry common sense,
Is as mysterious as those acts of genius...
Taken for granted,
That are around us...
AND,
With a significance that influences.
But still,
They are sometimes questioned when revealed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Human Talents
Human beings are made of finer stuff!
Some introspection will reveal the same;
Some have many talents- This is no bluff;
If well-nurtured, they give him name and fame.
But where is the time to do all these things?
Time is so short, most precious and fleeting;
Much of it is wasted just like hot drinks,
In worthless things, in glamour and eating.
Time is lost in unknown ways every day;
A lot too in emotional reactions;
Time can be saved in a sensible way;
Talents give success by proper actions.
O man, search thy mind and heart for talents;
You’ll surely find them in measures immense.
poem by John Celes
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For The Dripping Of Their Own Sweat
Some people say the most ridiculous things,
In the defense of their own ignorance.
Why would someone,
With a consciousness firmly based in ego...
Believe someone would use their name,
To promote creative efforts...
Where their name does not clearly appear?
Near or far or anywhere?
~But it was me who inspired your talents.~
'Huh?
Excuse me...?
You said what? '
And I tried in my mind to convince myself,
What I am listening to them express...
Makes sense.
'Huh?
Excuse me...?
You said what? '
I do my best to give those 'props' where deserved.
And to whomever they belong!
'How' with an 'ever',
If I make the effort...
AND do the deed with my own supplied energy,
And with a motivation to get those deeds done...
The last thing on my mind,
Will be praising someone else's procrastination.
That lacks in initiative, passion or desire!
'Guess who wants to get paid,
For the dripping of their own sweat?
Guess? '
I do enjoy going to the amusement parks!
But to reside in one like some do...
In their minds?
Does not attract my ambitions for some reason!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Remembered For What It Is And Missed
Knowing the business of one's talent helps,
After establishing a recognition.
It is not the fact that one gains attention,
That a gift is remembered when it is presented.
It is the timelessness of content.
And one's ability to perceive,
From where that talent comes...
To one who has received it from a birth given.
To acknowledge a tree and admire its leaves,
To then disregard its roots...
Is a foolish position one should never take.
People become curious when one's talent is exposed.
But only those who are about the genuineness,
Of their talents from a business sense...
Continue to work on it all their lives.
And the growth and blooming of it shows to others,
Who enjoy the taste of it over and over again.
Since the quality of it never diminishes,
When remembered for what it is and missed.
And a true talent that is,
Never becomes subjected to standards lowered...
By those who excel,
In limited beliefs...
That a game pf playing a battle of wits,
Is part of it!
It isn't.
Not in this genre!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All The Critics Love U In New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U don't have 2 keep the beat
They'll still think it's neat in New York
U can wear what U want 2
It doesn't matter in New York
U could cut off all your hair
I don't think they'd care in New York
All the critics love U in New York
Why U can play what U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
They won't say that U're naive
If U play what U believe in New York
Purple love-amour is all U're in it 4
But don't show it
The reason that U're cool
Is cuz U're from the old school and they know it
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
All the critics love U
song performed by by Prince from 1999
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Delicious Wit! Come On and Get Some of It
Knowing the kind of people they were...
From the time of my birth,
And nourished on their curses.
I've known their taste to spread rumors,
And gossip.
Just to satisfy a craving for maliciousness,
And dirt!
How best could I use this...
To elevate my worth?
Controvesy is a must!
Eccentricness attracts!
Blessed with many gifts...
I would use this to 'sidetrack'!
As I perfected my act!
Very few knew I loved to write.
Even fewer knew I composed.
One or two came in contact,
With my knack for business!
And in my mind I combined all of those!
Right under their noses.
Today I am thrilled,
My skills are exposed.
And those who had not known of my abilities...
Have awakened to find their lips and mouths closed!
But how can I get them to spend their dollars?
Before they realize they have none of those?
How can I get them to open their wallets,
And pocketbooks,
To get that money flow?
I know! !
I'll have myself marketed as a precious gem.
A 'must' have with a price!
An excitement to have...
Quicker than palming and throwing dice!
A work of 'art' and one of 'them'!
'Delicious Wit! Come On and Get Some of It! '
Of course I'll have to pretend,
My ego is offended by this kind of attention!
Flaunting one's ability to manipulate,
Is so passé today!
Humility pays!
I've seen that!
AND...it works!
But I do enjoy the premise...
Of having the naysayers grimace.
Usually they are the first to purchase.
Getting them to discuss something they dislike?
Will send sales through the roof!
And boost my appetite to delight with surprises!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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