Thankful For A Fixed Income I Magically Manage
I did not grow up picking Lillies from the field.
I was a latchkey child with chores and responsibilities.
That's the way my mother raised my sister Mimmie and me.
To be independent and aware at a very early age.
I can sometimes be difficult, direct and demanding.
Traits others discover within minutes in my presence.
However...
When I give of myself and time,
That is done without question.
I am one of those Give-Back-To-The Community kind.
And I've learned after many years of doing it...
Not too many in the community appreciate the sacrifice.
Since I am limited with 'bling' to impress!
I've been told many times,
'Why are you here wasting your life?
You can go somewhere else with the skills you have.
And make lots of money! '
It sickens me to hear this,
From those who assess others...
By what they 'visual' possess.
They same folks that express 'unity'.
Based on conditions met!
But...
My mother didn't raise me like that!
She taught 'me' to make contributions.
Delivering to others my best.
Needless to say we had many arguments about this.
Guess who won?
The only regret I have?
Not too many were present to digest her message.
Although I am grateful and blessed,
To have listened.
And thankful for a fixed income I magically manage.
And a can opener I use without protest.
Yes...
I am skilled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
When She Played It Was On Her Piano
As a kid I had ambitions.
And the first of them was to do my chores,
Before my mother would come home from work.
And she would pack them on too!
'I told you to sweep this floor.'
I did!
'With what?
A sandwich?
Do it again.'
My sister, Mimmie, would look at me.
And smile!
I couldn't wait,
To give her the spray can...
To kill the roaches!
I didn't know we weren't suppose to have them,
Until I was eight years old!
And that's not a joke.
One day when my mother went to work,
I made sure Mimmie got introduced.
She's a grandmother now.
And every once in a while...
She will mention how mean I was to her.
Nobody is going to sit,
And enjoy me getting whipped!
And that has been my philosophy...
Learned very early in my life.
Those days are long gone.
And being assigned to responsibilites,
I believe every child needs.
However...
Too many parents have raised lazy and spoiled children.
Believing one day,
They will awaken and be accountable for their actions!
Today as I reflect on my childhood,
I am glad my mother did not allow me to go to sleep...
To chance an awakening to what I knew I should do.
What I had and was going to do got done,
Before I had an opportunity to give it thought.
Procrastination,
Was not a lesson my mother taught.
I've seen parents,
Do everything possible for their children.
To wonder at a later date in time,
Why their children disrespect them.
Even 'if' I looked as if I wanted to say something back,
My mother would put a 'switch' to my behind.
AND...
I would have to fine one she liked to use on me.
That was before the calling of 911.
Today...
They would call that child abuse.
When I grew up...
We got our 'butts' tore up.
Just for looking as 'if'...
We did not enjoy getting whippings!
And I aint hardly kidding.
How does that 'old' saying go?
~Spare the rod and spoil the child.~
Well...
Mimmie and I were very spoiled.
But...
A rocking of a boat,
Did not float at all...
With Ms Edna!
When she played,
It was on her piano!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Were Latchkey Kids
I can not remove those impressions made,
In my youth.
Nor can I replace misconceptions done,
Of how my growing up in the projects...
Was not for my sister and I lives filled with fun.
I for one had little if none.
We were latchkey kids!
Chores and responsibility came early for me.
And I made sure my sister Mim,
Didn't think what I did...
Was going to make her life a breeze.
If I had to wash dishes and sweep...
She was not going outside to play,
A game of hide and seek.
I was young and disciplined.
And she, at times, grew to despise me.
But we...
Were latchkey kids.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Me Mimmie
Give me Mimmie.
Her honesty I accept.
Give me Mimmie.
What she does,
It's done at her best!
She 'may' have a flaw.
Not too many I have seen.
She's my oldest 'and' younger sister.
And when she whips her dander up...
Watch out!
She can let off some steam.
A jewel, a star...
A bright light shining.
Never to complain,
She refrains from whining.
Wife, mother and devoted grandmother too.
She says she has retired!
But from what?
She's 'so' busy.
She's always finding something to do!
Give me Mimmie.
Her honesty I accept.
Give me Mimmie.
What she does,
It's done at her best!
She's funny when she says she is going to relax.
By preparing a meal for fifty or more people...
For some function at her church,
Where she is very active at!
She doesn't hesitate,
To express the wisdom that she has.
It's sharp and quite clear,
To whomever it is passed.
And she entertains with humor.
When she jokes,
You are going to laugh.
She's quite accomplished...
Undertaking several task!
Yes...
Give me Mimmie.
Her honesty I accept.
Give me Mimmie.
What she does,
It's done at her best!
Dedicated to:
My sister Andrea Doreen 'Mimmie' Pertillar Dixon
'Love you, young lady! '
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where's Daddy?
My mother and I were close.
And had a unique relationship.
People thought I was a mama's boy.
And I didn't mind.
Since both my mother and I,
Would laugh when we discussed this.
I remember talking before I could walk.
And when we were out together publicly,
She would say to me...
'Please Larry, do not say one word.
I don't want anyone staring at you.'
~You mean like daddy does? ~
'Exactly.'
And when I got older,
When my sister Mimmie was born...
I use to ask my mother,
~Why is she so quiet? ~
'Give her time.
She's only a few months old.'
And...
When she did get older,
And we'd all be out in public...
My mother not once told her,
To be quiet.
I tried.
But she never listened to me.
And my father?
He would just stare at us in disbelief.
~Ma?
Where's daddy? ~
'Who knows? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I've Heard Those Old Stories Told
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
I've heard those old stories told,
About what folks have done...
To make my life easy and comfortable.
Especially told to others who did not know.
And who did what...
When I got myself into ruts.
'God...
I am so glad You know the real deal! '
And I wonder 'who' that might have been?
That came to my aid when I needed them.
Hmmm...
It's true,
I have had folks give me 'things'.
And money loaned I paid back.
I've had people to me make promises.
And I remember every one of them broken...
From the time I was a kid!
Hmmm...
I can't remember anyone,
Motivating my moves!
Only You,
My Father.
I could say my entire life has been spent...
With me doing the giving.
And to a degree that would be true.
Since several people I have known...
Have told lies.
That's all they did and still do.
And I use to listen to a whole lot of BS.
With attempts I made to correct some mess.
Do I now?
No!
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
And the biggest lesson I have learned to date?
Do not hesitate in the waiting of others to approve!
You'd be a dried up old prune in the doing.
If you've been blessed with a gift,
You better give it and be done with it!
And let whoever say whatever!
Give folks who gossip some fuel,
To keep their lips moving.
And doing something bizarre...
While you're at it!
Learn to live without restrictions and limitations.
You and your time are not defined by those mindless.
Unless you let it!
Then whose truth do you ultimately live?
It wont be mine because I have my own to live!
Although I do give folks credit where it is due.
Like being witnesses...
To the gifts God has given to me.
That's it!
Anything else folks would like to claim...
Did not occur on my watch.
But I do understand,
Why some folks like to associate themselves...
With those who struggle through and win,
Their battles and conquer over grief!
Thank You God, Almighty!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Mama Didn't Raise No Punk
Let me say this...
My mama didn't raise no punk!
Not when she would slam dunk me,
Away from public view.
Or dared me not to do those things,
She told me to.
Or take my time!
Mama came from the old school.
And she didn't hesitate,
To strike fire to my behind.
Let me say this...
My mama didn't raise no punk!
She knew exactly what she was doing with me.
She raised me to become independent.
Not a chump.
I was raised to use my mind.
And defend my thoughts!
And any gift I got from mama,
Is was bought for me because it was earned!
Like those whippings for my backtalk.
My mama didn't have easy lessons taught.
None that I remember were for me quickly learned.
But over time I did.
Since I didn't like to sit...
On a burned butt after getting whipped!
Eventually they sunk in...
Those lessons.
Deep.
To stay.
If I was ever to become a punk...
It was going to be done mama's way.
With a tormenting whipping,
As she held me,
Screaming...
'I've got it, if you want it.
And you're going to get it good.
What's my name? '
Mama.
'What is it? '
Mama.
'And don't you forget it!
Who's your mama? '
You're my mama, mama!
'That's right!
And don't you forget it,
Not one bit.
Or I'll be back to give you more...
Of some of this.
Don't play with me, boy! '
Dedicated:
My Mother, Edna Pearl Roberts (Prudhomme) Pertillar
And my paternal Grandmother, Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar
'Thank you! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Heffa
'Don't let me chase you...
Heffa! '
My mother would say this,
Before she did my sister's hair.
And I would sit in a chair...
To watch my sister.
And she would cry and I would stare.
'What you looking at? '
My sister Mimmie would say!
I'm looking at you!
What you gonna do?
'You kids better not start nothing with me.
Hold your head still, girl!
And don't you say another word, Larry! '
I would think to myself...
'Is Mimmie a 'heffa' when she gets her hair done?
Why when I called her that...
She would chase me,
And I would run?
Then my mother would say,
'Would you kids stop that!
Both of you get on my last nerve.
Stop that fighting crap.'
Ma, what is a 'heffa'?
And why is Mimmie one?
Is it the way she looks...
When her hair is undone?
If I called her that,
She wants to fight with me.
Daddy don't call her a heffa.
Why do you...
Exclusively?
My mother would look at me,
As if I was crazed.
I could tell in her eyes,
She was trying for 'something' to say!
I never heard my mother curse.
She didn't have to back then.
But I grew to understand...
'Heffa' was a word,
Black women shared between them!
And my sister Mimmie...
Thought she needed to keep me in 'check'!
And 'if' I didn't leave her alone...
A grown man I would never become or get!
I grew up in a family of very strong willed 'heffuhs'!
Dedicated to:
Those women in my family whom I love dearly.
And I have learned what they say to each other,
And amongst themselves...
Is between them as women!
And they have provided me with 'much' wisdom!
I know now...
What is said 'endearingly' between them,
Is not for a man to repeat!
Even though they can say what they wish,
About us!
'Right, fellas'?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life
My life is one of a kind
I've been through more than you think
Haven't seen anyone get shot
But I've had a gun to my face
Been chased out my house with a shoty
Because my pops went psycho
Now he scared my best-friend for life
I've seen my sister get molested
And mother get raped
I've seen my family doing drugs
And doing drug deals
People might say I haven't seen alot
Yet they don't know me
How can they judge me?
Everything I know I taught myself
I've basically raised mtself
Always had to look after my sister
Making sure she learned right from wrong
But I guess I didn't do a good job
I left her and my brother did too
Now my mother has to raise her
She doesn't know a dame thing
Granted she knows how to get drunk and mad
She can fill your head with lies
Look that's what she did to me
Tryed to hit me, but she knew better
Now I've left her, she put me through to much
Couldn't take it anymore
Now she cries her fake tears
Everyone believes her
Thats her spell on them
People don't even really no her
Just the shit she be feading them
Lies, Lies, Lies and more Lies
If only they could really see her
I guess that's the way it is
My life is one of a kind
poem by Ashley Olson
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Without A Drumroll Or A Cheering Audience
I was still in my early twenties,
When I felt I had earned my doctorate's degree.
After I had graduated from elementary school,
I had already received my 'bachelor's'.
I was taught to be accountable,
For every responsible action I made.
I did not have a childhood.
I had chores and responsibilities.
And had been a latchkey child by the age of 5.
That was before the innocence of children,
Were identified to be protected and realized.
I was taught to value independence....first!
I was still in my early twenties,
When I felt I had earned my doctorate's degree.
Married, divorced and a military veteran...
I knew my life had excelled through a course,
To experience early such maturity.
And that wasn't a choice!
But more like a marriage of enforcement.
And my tolerance for those who are ignorant is low.
Extremely!
Especially when I've seen people pull themselves up,
Out of places few would dare to go.
Without a drumroll or a cheering audience to encourage.
With so many today wasting their minds and time,
Debating their entitlements while sitting on wide behinds...
Expecting a delivery of some kind they did not earn.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why I Could Care Less' by Lawrence S. Pertillar
I grew up in the projects,
My sister and I.
I was the older...
And expected to be the protector,
Without excuses or alibis.
I had no one older to express my frustrations.
My mother was both my mom and dad then.
And my sister and I were latchkey children!
I grew up with an edge.
A bit of a chip on my shoulder!
I really didn't have a childhood...
I always felt quite older.
And throughout my life...
Witnessing those who whine about petty stuff.
I look back upon my life thanking God,
How I grew up.
I thank God for my parents...
And their struggles to maintain.
My sister Andrea who helped me remain sane!
The Women's League Day Care Center...
With their counselors who guided me on my way.
The residents of Bellevue Square...
To this day I may see a few from those 'golden days'.
And to those who take others for granted.
With demands their selfish whims be met...
If it had not been for them,
And their pointless greed and attitudes...
I probably would not express,
Why I could care less...
About them now being in distress and duress.
My mama taught me a few things about survival...
'What goes up comes down!
Folks who grin and smile...
Will someday show frowns.
Now go outside and try to be a child,
Like the other kids! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Price Tag (Jessie J)
Seems like everybody's got a price
I wonder how they sleep at night
When the sale comes first and the truth comes second
Just stop for a minute and smile
Why is everybody so serious?
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes and your heels so high
That you can't even have a good time
Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
We need to take it back in time
When music made us all unite
And it wasn't low blows and video hoes
Am I the only one gettin' tired?
Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness
Can we all slow down and enjoy right now
Guarantee we'll be feelin' alright
Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Yeah, yeah, well, keep the price tag and take the cash back
Just give me six strings and a half stack
And you can keep the cars, leave me the garage
And all I, yes, all I need are keys and guitars
And guess what, in 30 seconds I'm leaving to Mars
Yes, we leaving across these undefeatable odds
It's like this man, you can't put a price on life
We do this for the love, so we fight and sacrifice every night
So we ain't gon' stumble and fall, never
Waiting to see, a sign of defeat, uh uh
So we gon' keep everyone moving their feet
So bring back the beat and then everybody sing, it's not about
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Yeah, yeah
Oh, forget about the price tag
poem by Alex Reyes
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Its Not About The Money
Seems like everybody's got a price
I wonder how they sleep at night
When the sale comes first and the truth
comes second
Just stop for a minute and smile
Why is everybody so serious?
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes and your
heels so high
That you can't even have a good time
Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
We need to take it back in time
When music made us all unite
And it wasn't low blows and video hoes
Am I the only one gettin' tired?
Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness
Can we all slow down and enjoy right now
Guarantee we'll be feelin' alright
Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Yeah, yeah, well, keep the price tag and
take the cash back
Just give me six strings and a half stack
And you can keep the cars, leave me the
garage
And all I, yes, all I need are keys and
guitars
And guess what, in 30 seconds I'm leaving
to Mars
Yes, we leaving across these undefeatable
odds
It's like this man, you can't put a price on
life
We do this for the love, so we fight and
sacrifice every night
So we ain't gon' stumble and fall, never
Waiting to see, a sign of defeat, uh uh
So we gon' keep everyone moving their feet
So bring back the beat and then everybody
sing, it's not about
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Yeah, yeah
Oh, forget about the price tag
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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I Aint Been 'Right' Since
Just throw me any compliment you wish,
With superlatives dripping with adverbs and adjectives.
And don't forget that 'ego' written all over my forehead.
Be sure not to miss that.
That wants to be massaged.
I'm telling you...
Just how 'shallow' is my deepness?
Don't get me wrong...
I am tremendously grateful I am blessed,
But...
Comeon!
I guess some people perceive my head,
To be as big as...
Alaska or Texas.
I'd be stuck on 'uh' if it was.
I just do what I know I do.
Those who 'really' know me,
Know this is no secret.
The only time I was impressed,
Is when my mother followed my every movement...
During my tap dance recital.
She was on my every step.
Better than I was.
And that was 59yrs ago.
And it was more than 50yrs ago,
My sister 'Mimmie' exclaimed...
'Larry? You did 'not' write this! '
Her nosey eyes was all up in my business,
Back then.
Don't get me wrong...
I am tremendously grateful I am blessed,
But...
Comeon!
I guess some people perceive my head,
To be as big as...
Alaska or Texas.
It really isn't.
Although it's expected to be.
And I don't know why.
Not soon after my birth...
I demanded my parents,
Stop by the store...
To pick up some pads an pens!
I had some ideas to jot down...
As soon as we got home!
And wouldn't you know...
They got me pencils instead.
And I aint been 'right' since!
Well...
At least the pads had 'lines'.
Upon which I was prepared to deliver.
I am embellishing a little bit.
But...
Not by much.
Give or take a few years!
I would 'add' at least...
6 or 7.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sacrifice and Faith Are My Friends
Sacrifice and Faith are my friends!
From the very beginning,
They made their presence known!
I have shown them indifference,
On many occasions.
And we parted...
With Sacrifice being the more stubborn
When I rejected harsh criticsms,
I was not prepared to face!
As I grew to find how true they were.
How I created them and made them to occur!
Sometimes Sacrifice had me on the floor,
With Doubt!
And Doubt and I had bouts...all the time!
That's why Doubt is not a close friend of mine!
Sometimes Sacrifice made me aware...
If I was going to do anything worthy...
'It' was going to be there to insure
I had enough endurance
Not to give up!
Sacrifice was there to make sure
I knew 'It' was where I cared most!
Even though most of those times,
Tomorrow was much delayed!
I'd pray with fears as tears rolled...
To swell into rivers of complacency!
Sacrifice knew that was not me,
Fixed on my knees pleading.
Sacrifice often would connect me with Faith...
When I turned my back on Faith many a day!
I'm so glad Faith allowed my tantrums.
'It' knew I was being a misunderstood child,
When Faith would come and enfold me
With security and comfort.
That would sit with me a while!
Letting my time with Sacrifice...
Be discussed with Faith and understood!
And Faith would bring me to my senses.
Like only Faith knew...and could!
They were never the ones with the conflict at all.
I had to identify them on their own merit.
I had to discover 'Me' and who they were.
It has difficult but I now realize...
Without Sacrifice and Faith,
I would never have found Happiness!
And that is what they have been wanting for me,
All this time!
Inspred by:
Trevor Foster, Owner
TRU BOOKS/CAFÉ
Hartford, Connecticut
'Thank you, Trevor'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Be Free of Not Having Children
My mother would have my sister and I...
As kids,
To go look for a nice sized switch.
Then strip it before she whipped us with it!
And then dared us to cry...
As if we weren't already hurting inside.
Then made us stand up straight,
As if at attention.
Telling us not to roll our eyes.
And not a word she wanted heard mentioned.
One day I did something...
And I chose from my mother to run.
I was stunned she was running right behind me fast.
She snatched me by the neck,
And proceeded to spank my ass!
Disciplined?
My mother played softball,
And my father had been a boxer.
Do you think I have survived all these years...
Trying to out foxed those two.
Knowing what they could do...
And convinced they did well at what they did!
Disciplined?
We were not told twice,
To do something again they said they did not like.
And my father did not have to raise a finger.
All he did was use his eyes.
'Daddy, please! Don't look at me like that! '
But my mother on the other hand,
Commanded well our ship!
Whenever she began to raise her voice...
Mimmie and I knew we were heading for something quick!
And crying we would do first...
Because we knew there was no exit!
I can hear my mother's voice today.
If I had threatened to call 911.
She would hand me the phone and tell me to dial.
And if the police should arrive...
They would discover a missing child.
Both of my parents were extremely humorous.
However...
My mama did not play,
If we did not obey!
In those days when parenting
Was out of the hands of the government!
And although we may have grown up 'slightly' dysfunctional.
Dysfunctions and all...
Today?
We are happy we grew up the way we did.
And if I had children,
Living today as these 'hardhead' children do...
I wouldn't dare them to call 911.
That option?
Not available!
Not if I'm to play poppa.
No!
They wouldn't get a chance to!
And I might be visited as I sat in prison!
But any child of mine...
Would get a rod struck to their behind.
Like lightening...hot and sizzling.
Sparing me the grief that today's parents find.
My children would pay me attention.
And we together would share respect.
Perhaps that's why I live my life blessed.
To be free of not having children!
I could not stand by as they lived lives,
Attracted to standards bathed in degradation.
I'm not 'that' patriotic!
And to live without feeling guilt...
Or in a remorse,
That leaves me in debt AND regret!
I am grateful to be that blessed...
Yes.
I know my limitations.
And I am glad I do not have children,
Insisting to see me pushed to them!
I love my life lived...
Without displaying a rage that drives me crazed,
And confined!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen of What Is Right
Yes!
She is my sister.
And Queen,
Of What Is Right.
No one,
Not even me...
Can argue with Mimmie D.
She is seldom wrong!
So prepare to take a hike.
She's quite talented and gifted.
And seems to never rest.
She makes things look too easy.
Even her children, Shayla and Landry...
Often find time with her protest.
But Mimmie is quite a special person!
And yes, I can say this...
It is true,
She knows what is best.
She knows how to dress with style and grace.
When she cooks a meal,
I've witness people stuff their faces.
Everything she touches,
Has a quality to it.
And she's the first on the scene,
When family, friends and those she loves get sick!
Did I tell you she was a nurse?
When she was just a child...
Healing the 'universe' she use to rehearse.
She tried to practice her skills on me!
But I had to remind her...
I was the one born first!
'Mahhhh...
Will you tell Mimmie to leave me alone.
She's trying to tell me what to say.
When I get on the telephone! '
Yes!
She is my sister.
And Queen,
Of What Is Right.
Yes, we had our arguments.
And yes we had our childish fights.
But on September 10th two thousand and nine,
My little sister will be sixty.
And it is hard to believe,
Without me...
She has done quite fine.
But sometimes I wonder about her husband AL.
After thirty six years of wedded bliss with sister Mim...
He seems to get better as he ages with her.
And not showing one sign,
He is out of his mind!
There has to be 'something' WRONG with THEM.
Two peas in the same pod.
The love they have for each other,
Today...
IS quite odd!
Yes!
She is my sister.
And Queen,
Of What Is Right.
And I love her dearly with all my heart!
Since Andrea and me,
Are both alike.
'Mahhhh...
will you tell LArry to leave me alone.
And mine his own business,
When I talk on the telephone! '
Dedicated to my sister,
Andrea 'Mimmie' Doreen Pertillar Dixon.
In celebration of her 60th birthday.
September 10th 2009.
'I love you, Mimmie.'
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Opportunities
I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, i've got the brains
Let's make lots of -
I've had enough of scheming and messing around with jerks
My car is parked outside, i'm afraid it doesn't work
I'm looking for a partner, someone who gets things fixed
Ask yourself this question: do you want to be rich?
I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, i've got the brains
Let's make lots of money
You can tell i'm educated, i studied at the sorbonne
Doctored in mathematics, i could have been a don
I can program a computer, choose the perfect time
If you've got the inclination, i have got the crime
Oh, there's a lot of opportunities
If you know when to take them, you know?
There's a lot of opportunities
If there aren't, you can make them
Make or break them
I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
Let's make lots of -
(aahhhhh) money
(aahhhhh)
(aahhhhh - di du da di da bu di ba)
You can see i'm single-minded, i know what i could be
How'd you feel about it, come and take a walk with me?
I'm looking for a partner, regardless of expense
Think about it seriously, you know, it makes sense
Let's (got the brains)
Make (got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (oohh money)
(let's) you've got the brawn
(make) i've got the brains
Let's make lots of money (oohh money)
I've got the brains (got the brains)
You've got the looks (got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (oohh money)
Money
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give a Child...
Proudly for Seth ~ Ryan who graduated as
an Aerospace Engineer last week!
Give a child a great education
You give them the world
Give a child science and math
You give them access
Give a child a sense of wonder
You give them joy
Give a child poetry, paint, l.e.d.s, aluminum foil and sparkles
You give them creativity
Give a child accountability
You give them integrity
Give a child an understanding of spirit
You give them faith
Give a child an entire community
You give them responsilbility
Give a child your undivided time
You give them security
Give a child a life by example
You give them the map for success
Give a child hugs
You give them love!
~May 26,2006
Mountaintop Cottage, Tennessee
poem by Debora Short
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Price Tag by Jessie J
Verse 1
Seems like everybodys got a price,
I wonder how they sleep at night.
When the sale comes first,
And the truth comes second,
Just stop, for a minute and
Smile
Why is everybody so serious!
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes
And your heels so high
That you can't even have a good
Time.
Pre-chorus.
Everybody look to their left (yeah)
Everybody look to their right (ha)
Can you feel that (yeah)
We're paying with love tonight...
Chorus:
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Ain't about the (ha) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching.
Aint about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling
Wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Verse 2.
(Listen, Okay.)
We need to take it back in time,
When music made us all UNITE!
And it wasn't low blows and video Hoes,
Am I the only one gettin... tired?
Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness.
If we all slow down and enjoy right now
Gurantee we'll be feelin
All right.
Pre-chorus.
Everybody look to their left (yeah)
Everybody look to their right (ha)
Can you feel that (yeah)
We'll pay them with love tonight...
Chorus:
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Ain't about the (ha) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching.
Aint about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling
Wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Yeah yeah
Well, keep the price tag
And take the cash back
Just give me six strings and a half stack
And you can, can keep the cars
Leave me the garage
And all I...
Yes all I need are keys and guitars
And guess what, in 30 seconds I'm leaving to Mars
Yeah we leaving across these undefeatable odds
It's like this man, you can't put a price on a life
We do this for the love so we fight and sacrifice everynight
So we aint gon stumble and fall never
Waiting to see, I've seen a sign of defeat uh uh
So we gon keep everyone moving their feet
So bring back the beat and then everyone sing
It's not about
Chorus:
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Ain't about the (ha) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching.
Aint about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling
Wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Chorus:
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
Ain't about the (ha) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching.
Aint about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling
Wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.
poem by Shi Yelami
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song: XI
Mother, mother, do you not hear?
Mother, they come; there is news to tell!
– Give me your hands, my daughter dear:
'Tis but a ship that saileth well.
Mother dear, have a care, give heed!
–They go, my daughter, away they speed.
Mother, the danger is sore, alas!
– Child, my child, it will quickly pass.
Mother, mother, She draweth near!
– It is down in the harbour, daughter dear.
Mother, mother, She opens the door!
– Child, they go, to return no more.
Mother, She enters! I am afraid!
– Child, they now have the anchor weighed.
Mother, I hear Her speaking low.
– Child, my child, it is they that go.
Mother, She makes the stars go dark!
– Child, 'tis the sails of a shadowy bark.
Mother, She knocks at the casement still!
– Child, maybe it is fastened ill. . . .
Mother, mother, my sight grows dim. . . .
– Child, they sail for the open sea.
On every hand I can hear but Him. . . .
– O child, what is it, and who is He?
poem by Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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