En.Citatepedia^®.ro

That Forgiveness They Seek

After decades of declaring created enemies,
They wanted others to believe...
Were full of jealousy and envy.
With a doing of awful things to themselves,
To gain and plot the getting of attention...
From those willing to give them empathy.
And empathy to them had been given.

They now wish to call a truce.
But with who or whom will they truce with a doing?
Those whose lives they have ruined to defame?
Or the ones they deceived into believing,
Those enemies selected and picked...
Would have never thought of them existing,
If they had initially minded their own business.

What is the purpose of forgiving anyone,
Who spends their time...
Proving to others they've been out of their minds.
And that forgiveness they seek,
Should be of themselves with lessons taught to teach.
Since they chose to reek their own havoc,
Blamed to have been done by someone else.

And...
Successful in the doing of it they had been.
Until it was exposed...
They chose their own descent.
Without comprehending...
Those of substance and integrity are not shallow.
Nor corrupted by limited mentalities deluded.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deceitfully Victimized

One declaring to be victimized by another,
May pursue to get that atteention...
The first few times mentioned.
But then...
However and eventually,
Those who had been once accused of being culprits...
Become the ones who do receive the empathy,
After it has been discovered...
Those who elected to declare themselves victims,
Are the ones who deceitfully victimized...
To ruin lives of others they chose and selected.
But find themselves today the ones despised.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Victim Of Learning Too Many Lessons

Why is it that it seems,
You express little empathy...
Towards those who are currently,
Suffering from hunger, homelessness.
And a loss of their dignities.

'I began to express that years ago,
When the sight of it would hurt me so.
And I witnessed those with turned up noses.
Pretending what was exposed,
Had been a dilemma others chose.'

But the circumstances today are quite different.

'How and why? '

Those who suffer,
Have lost their homes and valuables.
And images that impressed,
Others in a lesser position...
They never took time to address.
With their empathies expressed.

'And...
Your point is what?
Their suffering done is more effective?
And my empathy given to them,
Should be more reflective? '

But the circumstances today are quite different.

'How and why? '

These people have never experienced,
A life lived like this before.

'Neither had my ancestors.
But guess what? '

What?

'When my ancestors suffered,
They never discriminated by looking away.
And today you can say...
I am a victim of learning too many lessons.
And when I am shown a negligence,
By them expressed...
What am I to do?
Show them I have not been taught by the best? '

But the circumstances today are quite different.

'How and why?
Are these new lessons I have not recognized?
Have those old lessons been changed,
And are now disguised? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Them No Credit

Maybe it is believed,
Those who have achieved success...
Seek attention,
From those of mediocre ambitions?

'That doesn't make sense!
None of it.'

Well...
Perhaps it is perceived,
Their expressions of jealousy and envy...
Will attract those of peace of mind,
To want to be around them all the time.

'That sounds just as sick as your first explanation.'

Then maybe they are just crazed.
And they are given too much attention.
Perhaps you are 'feeling' them with empathy...
Not realizing insanity has already smothered them enough.
And you are trying to find an excuse,
That gives them a purpose for their existence.

'There has to be a reason why God made pests!
Something my mind has not been able to digest! '

You should give your mind a rest.
And give them no credit for being near one.
And leave whatever they are or are not,
Alone!
It is obvious they are attempting to addict you.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today I Care

At one time I cared less,
About your thoughts.
And how they were expressed.
I was too busy collecting 'things'
Believing they would bring me a happiness.

At one time I perceived,
My needs were different than yours.
I thought of life as a contest...
And doing whatever I could to win,
Regardless of any suffering you did...
Behind 'your' closed doors.

That was a problem 'you' had,
I chose to ignore.

At one time I thought myself better than most,
If I had a college degree.
Afterall, so many didn't!
And I was getting 'mine'...
With very-little-sleep,
Indeed.

Any sacrifice committed I did,
Was done then for selfish reasons.
There was something I wanted to prove.
And selecting those I wished to please.
That is what I then did do!

I had corrupted thoughts.
Brought about by ego.
I had corrupted thoughts.
That would glorify my name.
And I was not above shame!
I had corrupted thoughts.
Not criminal but close.
I had corrupted thoughts I chose...
To drive a nice car and wear fine clothes.

Petty I know.
But I needed then to boast!

At one time I cared less,
About your thoughts.
And how they were expressed.
I was too busy collecting 'things'
Believing they would bring me a happiness.

At one time I perceived,
My needs were different than yours.
I thought of life as a contest...
And doing whatever I could to win,
Regardless of any suffering you did...
Behind 'your' closed doors.

But today I care about you more than ever.
Feeling us connected...
In a 'together' seperateness.
Today I care about you more than ever.
Both of us have been blessed,
Not to live it to impress.
But to be grateful for life as it is!
And that should be expressed.
To leave God to do the rest,
At His best!

At one time I cared less,
About your thoughts.
Your needs and your feelings.
Until I awakened to realize...
They were my own!
And 'that' God has shown.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Living Under Such Duress

You had been the one to chose,
To ignore the wounds and sores...
Upon others done.

Hunger and homelessness,
Were those things not addressed.
Since you were then not affected.
In fact,
You had expressed...
A disdained for those suppressed.
And living under such duress.

That you are now stressed,
By similar distresses.
Why are your needs more of a priority?
When it has been your selfishness,
And way of life kept...
That has created today's disasterous effects!

And I,
Still affected...
By your decades of unwarranted disrespect,
Am accused of not expressing...
To you an empathy you feel I should direct?

Your delusions have created this mess!
Not mine!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How We Learned Our Lessons

Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.

And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.

Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.

And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.

And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!

They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.

Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.

Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.

'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
Our Parents.

~lsp~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Pay Particular Attention

A spoiled mixed up brew.
Left to sit to boil hot!
That's what I thought,
Of myself...
A lot!

A life I randomly got.
And not selected.
Not one that was picked,
To witness experiences...
In time I would digest.

And as I grow older,
I am coming to grips with this...
On being 'picked' and 'selected' business.
Realizing a 'randomness' is not the lives we live.

And I am not going to lie...
I do often wonder 'why'?
Since I will admit,
I do test and try my Creator's patience.

In the hopes to be punished...
To pay particular attention,
As to how the Creator goes about...
Inflicting this,
Upon my more aware consciousness!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Angst Aint What It Use To Be

Every conceivable trick in the book they could use,
Even to amaze a professional magician...
Those seeking attention had done to abuse,
Others who are still innocent with precise deception.
To depict anyone they chose to choose,
As an enemy to successfully accuse.

'How can people like them,
Be defended?
Where does a defense begin...
When their actions reflect,
All lessons taught we ourselves respect.
Without a complete dissecting...
Of a consciousness in need of a thorough process,
We can no longer neglect.'

And then one day,
Misdeeds backfire to expose evil ways.
Face to mirrored face.

With no explanation they could create.
A self examination...
Has never been raised in any debate.
Isolated hatred has been their fate.
In continued divisions...
They have kept separated.

Yet...
With angst in their minds,
They belabor to define their grief.
Proving that angst aint what it use to be...
To just leave behind so easily.
As denials increase...
To keep reality deluded.
And realities deluded always betray.

'Stop pointing your finger at me.
I have a college degree.
I'm not crazy.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let's All Get Along

Why all the hating?
Why all the fighting?
Can't we all be friends?

No more enemies.
No moe wars.
Let's end it all.

Throw down your weapons.
Hug your neighbor.
Let's call it truce.

Stop the racism.
End the blindness.
It's time to open your eyes.

We're all different.
We're all the same.
Let's all get along.

poem by Heather Schroer
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In Substitute of Meat

What process is this,
If it is not a learning one?
What process is this,
If comprehension isn't done?

Wasted sagas are meaningless,
And shallow.
Do nothing there to uplift.
Although,
A purpose to keep mentalities narrow...
And quite hollow does succeed.

What process is this,
If it is not a learning one?
What process is this,
If comprehension isn't done?

And what purpose is served,
By keeping minds fed dessert...
In substitute of meat.
We already witness the disadvantages,
Of too much sugar and spice.
Leaving sweetened appetites in our streets,
Without substance to nourish!
With all taxes increased.

'Meat?
I thought you were vegetarian? '

Meat for the mind,
Fool!

'I'll have you know,
I am a qualified imbecile...
Thank you!
Any references declaring me to be a fool,
I find appalling and offensive.'

There is 'something' about that to be admired.
Perhaps that's why it captivates.
And nothing about your situation advances.
It's soooo...
Impressively expressive.
And excuses an accepted abuse!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Forgiveness

Forgiveness is an act that works through God;
Forgiveness is an act of God in man;
Forgiveness is the work of God’s great love;
Forgiveness is an art that man must learn!

Men with good sense will restrain their anger;
Such men defer their anger for long times;
To forgive transgressions is man’s glory;
To hold one’s tongue is done by people smart.

Forgiving is an act almost divine;
Forgiving is something not all can do;
Forgiving someone is too tough at times;
Forgiving fully is done by just few!

To preach is easy; forgiving is tough;
Forgiving is an honor of men wise;
If God should forgive us, we must forgive;
Like God, we must be slow to anger too.

‘Forgive those who sin against us, ’ tells Christ;
To gain God’s forgiveness, we must then, first;
There is no limit to forgive someone;
Forgiveness is a virtue Jesus taught.

One who forgives has no revenge in heart;
One who forgives has no hate from the start;
‘Forgive and God will forgive you, ’ says Lord.
Forgiving plants the seed of love of God.

When all are sinners, forgiveness is prime;
By doing so, we gain the love of God;
Through forgiveness, our tolerance will grow;
For prayers to be heard, forgive right now!

A man with grudge is like a fruitless tree!
Grudge can stand in-between you and heaven!
Spare no occasion of forgiving men;
Judge not others but show mercy on them!

We turn like God when we forgive others;
Forgiving earns more souls for God, brothers!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-13-2009

poem by John Celes
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In Those Old Days

You may be tough.
But your approach to solicit,
My empathy and pity...
Could have been easier to get,
Without your demanding it.
But I do understand,
The competition you're up against.
And if I may make a suggestion...
You should put that gun away.
Since my first reaction,
Is not empathy with pity for you at all.

'It isn't real.'

Which?
The gun?
Your wish for empathy and pity?
Or my fear?

'Why can't you just co-operate,
And give me what I want? '

Trust me.
I'm going to give you exactly what you need.
Now that I know that gun isn't real.

'The gun IS real.
My need for empathy and pity isn't.
Thank you.
All I wanted was a decent conversation.
You were the only one I spotted,
Not texting or using a cellphone.
You have no idea how difficult it is for me,
To communicate like I did in the old days.'

So you are using a gun to do it?

'Hey...
What can I say.
I'm open for your suggestions.'

Good.
Give me the gun.
And I'll show you what I would have done.

'What are you going to do? '

Communicate my feelings,
Like I use to do in those old days.
And trust me...
You will know immediately,
Just what my feelings are.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Teach Them Young

The shooting of Trayvon Martin is a symptom of
how conscious our culture is today.
We still have guns to keep our imagined
enemies at bay.
Who are our enemies if we are all one?
One God soul being scattered below the sun.
We should teach children when they are young
teach them acceptance, cooperation tolerance of
other cultures, show ways different culture have fun.
Have poor children be in a class where rich kids
help them out, teach them to walk in other shoes
in a world filled with hostility and doubt.
Have empathy for others and their plight
how to resolve misunderstandings without leading to a fight.
How will this world ever get passed the second grade
we are a planet that needs to evolve consciously if
we are to be a healed to even celebrate the Golden Age.
Written by Christina Sunrise on April 17,2012

poem by Christina Sunrise
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If I Can Learn a Few Lessons So Can You

You did not ruin my life,
By proving to me you can ruin yours.
Nor do you get from me any sympathy.
My empathy years ago you ignored.
And I have no desire to explore your destitution.
Or offer solutions with advice.
Why? And for what reasons?
Hmmm?

Remember you once told me I was 'nuthin'?
While you strolled passed me wearing spit shined shoes.
And smelling nice.
Like the atmosphere was cologned?

And sporting the latest fashions...
As you supported materialism as your way of life.
And you satisfied that appetite very well.
I remember you then and saying with laughter...
'People like you aren't worth the time spent in hell! '
And look at you now...
Trying to convince me of that!

You did not ruin my life,
By proving to me you can ruin yours.
Nor do you get from me any sympathy.
Not the way you applied your indignities,
At the expense of my integrity.

My empathy years ago you ignored.
And I have no desire to explore your destitution.
Or offer solutions with advice.
You caught me in a bad mood.
And I am not about to mask it to play nice!

No!
Don't try attempts to leech,
Upon my good graces.

If I can learn a few lessons,
So can you!
And you look as if you are learning one right now!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rock Bottom

The hour of the liars,
Closes in upon them quick.
Those whose lips have flapped with lies...
Have found their alibis,
No longer keeps them in full disguise.

A smothering of coverups,
Has exposed them and their deceiving butts.
Leaving those who chose to follow,
Hitting hard rock bottom!
Without a shred of empathy...
To receive as a loan.
Or a scent of it shown,
From anyone who has it for them to borrow!

Even the thought of caring,
Has become a fear...
People today,
Have dared themselves to share!
Hoping the act of it...
Will not find them labelled,
As liberal activists!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Up Off Your Pity Pot To Stop It

To wiggle out from under all doubts,
With a hanging them out to dry...
In front of passersby to eye,
Is intended to get attention.

Give those petty bits of pity,
To solicit empathy...
Away.
Today.
And...
Throw those doubts you've picked to pity,
With that selfishness that doesn't pay...
To get attention to gain.

Just get up off your pity pot to stop it.
And...
Get up off your pity pot to drop.

Just get up off your pity pot to stop it.
'Cause,
Believe this or not...
Very few are into pity.
And believe this or not...
Pity does not benefit.

Fight those doubts to stop and dropp them.
'Cause no pity benefits.
Fight those doubts to stop and dropp them.
'Cause no pity benefits.
And...
Believe this or not,
Very few are into pity.
And believe this or not...
Pity does not benefit.

Just get up off your pity pot to stop it.
'Cause,
Believe this or not...
Very few are into pity.
And believe this or not...
Pity does not benefit.

Give those petty bits of pity,
To solicit empathy...
Away.
Today.
And...
Throw those doubts you've picked to pity,
With that selfishness that doesn't pay...
To get attention to gain.

Just get up off your pity pot to stop it.
'Cause,
Believe this or not...
Very few are into pity.
And believe this or not...
Pity does not benefit.

Just get up off your pity pot to stop it.
And...
Just get up off your pity pot to stop it quick!

Get up off your pity pot to stop this quick.
'Cause believe this or not...
Your pity does not benefit.

Just get up off your pity pot to stop it.
And...
Just get up off your pity pot to stop it quick!
'Cause believe this or not...
Your pity does not benefit,
One bit.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Their Knees

Theft and deception,
Have been their worst enemies.
And the power of truth,
Reduces them to miseries.

An escape hatch is sought,
As the plunge from their throne is felt!
The misuse of their own citizens,
Inflames them from within.
They can not blame anyone else!

Their struggle to maintain integrity has gone!
Not one of them fed on greed,
Has an identity that is strong.

Listening with patience and correcting their faults...
Had not been a priority.
So on their knees,
Lessons not learned...
To them are brought!
Too late.
To heal from self hatred taught!

So on their knees,
Lessons not learned...
To them are brought!
Too late.
To heal from self hatred taught!

Theft and deception,
Have been their worst enemies.
And the power of truth,
Reduces them to miseries.

So on their knees,
Lessons not learned...
To them are brought!
Too late.
To heal from self hatred taught!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Attacks On Mother Nature

It's the end of the Hollywood minded.
And those of elitist seasoning.
Feel sympathy for those who chose greed to chase.
Feel no empathy at all,
For those who created homelessness and hunger...
With no hindsight to erase.

It is the end of those who choose racism to feed.
As if their ignorance is a prize to protect,
To defend as hoarded treasures...
Others come with threatening measures,
To steal as an act to distract from their misdeeds.

A higher consciousness has clearly,
Opened eyes wide to see...
Who the fools are that have led,
Attacks on Mother Nature.
Now doing their best to 'cap' the flow...
Of the depths of their treachery.

Attacks on Mother Nature done,
Should be enough to expose those criminals...
In the minds of all now awakened,
Who will not allow a place for deceivers...
To hide their faces in escape.
Or offer shelter for them to run.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sickened By the Wicked and Kicked

So many moaning thrown under the bus.
And overdosed by phonies...
Now busted of trust.

And O.D.'d by these phonies,
They once believed.

O.D.'d by straight phonies,
They chose not to see!

So sad are these believers,
Deceived to grieve.
With hearts they show to others,
Upon on their sleeves.

And signs of empathy don't come at all!
To those spoiled by a lifestyle fed to fall.

Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!

So many moaning thrown under the bus.
And overdosed by phonies...
Now busted of trust.

And O.D.'d by these phonies,
They once believed.

O.D.'d by straight phonies,
They chose not to see!

Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!

So sad are these believers,
Deceived to grieve.

Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!

With hearts they show to others,
Upon on their sleeves.

And signs of empathy don't come at all!
To those spoiled by a lifestyle fed to fall.

Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And signs of empathy don't come at all!

'You and me too.
Used and abused!
And...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!

And O.D.'d by these phonies,
We once believed.
O.D.'d by straight phonies,
We chose not to see!
Now...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked.
Now...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked.
Now...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked.
Now...
Sickened by the wicked.
Sickened by the wicked.
Sickened by the wicked and kicked! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the Top to the Bottom

From the top to the bottom,
There were those who chose to stop...
Actions they believe were made,
By those who went against the grade.
No matter if that grade,
Had been all about 'shade'.

From the top to the bottom,
There were those who were just rotten.
With nothing on their minds,
But themselves all the time.
And believing they had power...
To stop tick tocking from a hanging clock.

From the top to the bottom,
There were gobblers who loved robbing...
Anything they thought had meaning,
And to smear it with their scheming.
With no scruples in their 'noggin'.
And sipping on mischief like it was eggnog.

From the top to the bottom,
There were crooks and there were snobs...
With their noses in the air!
But no empathy is shown to come,
From anywhere.
Now find their lives blocked,
And going no where.

From the top to the bottom,
They are slipping off roofs...
Into muddy ruts.
With no boots or shoes,
And on their butts out of luck...
Singing the blues!

From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!
From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!

From the top to the bottom,
Now the bottom's got 'em shocked!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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