The Keeping Up Of Appearances
The return of long missed realities,
Has made the waiting for them...
As crisp as fresh air wished,
By those who had wondered...
Whatever happened to those Joneses,
Who once lived a few doors away.
But had to move.
Since the making of impressions,
They could no longer afford.
And those who chose to live basically,
Can now ignore the foolishness...
Of the keeping up of appearances,
My neighborbors are now eager to admit...
They too had difficulty trying to do it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Diminishing In Effect
Isn't it odd,
That those losing jobs...
And valued things once possessed.
Are those more stressed,
About keeping up their appearances.
And pretensions that are diminishing in effect.
Few are concerned about realities to embrace.
Than they are about those impressions made.
And how to keep them in place.
And for many,
This is a traumatic undertaking.
That threatens their affectations.
'What am I going to do now?
Even the 'Joneses' next door have been foreclosed.
And my entire life,
Depended on their approval.'
Isn't it odd,
That those losing jobs...
And valued things once possessed.
Are those more stressed,
About keeping up their appearances.
And pretensions that are diminishing in effect.
And the only response one can expect from them to get,
Is a wish for an economic turn around...
To repeat those steps that got them into debt.
With a protection of those pretensions,
That are diminishing in effect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Narrow Vision
No interests do I have,
To revive useless concepts.
The time was ripe when they were fresh.
And your acceptance of them now,
Will not 'update' their effectiveness.
You chose to ignore the signs of change.
You did this because you thought I was there,
To make a name.
There to boost my own ego.
Or to produce an advancement of fame!
Guess what?
I had 'that'!
Long before you knew!
Much longer than you have been awakened.
Did you think your tired acts,
Would stop me in my tracks?
And I needed you...
For some personal dream,
That I wished with you pursued?
I am giving!
But not that sacrificial.
I've been motivated to move forward,
For too long!
And you've been there,
With your nose up in the air...
For all the wrong reasons!
Reflecting the benefits,
Of a quality of life...
Uplifting all insights.
You have totally ignored,
By your narrow vision.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Can Be Corrected Takes Initiative and Effort
Some believe their lives,
Should be lived with repetitions of chances...
And forgiveness given.
As if they are immuned from the learning,
Of making mistakes.
There are more than many,
Willing to keep making them.
Some believe any action they take is acceptable.
Any creative excuse used is okay.
And any thoughtlessness expressed from their lips,
Depicting the delivery from a mindless brain...
Is from them expected.
Leaving environments unchanged.
And yet all of this foolishness,
Is a reflection of a standard of life that has been approved.
And those approving this standard?
They are the ones always willing to put the blame,
For any of their failures...
On someone intelligent enough to admit,
What can be corrected takes initiative and effort.
And those who oppose conflicts they have started,
By their absence of seeing daylight...
Are the ones who denounce such appearances of nonconformity,
As actions that will be no longer tolerated...
In the best of their speech deliveries.
Not comprehending their ability to make speeches,
Is not what is needed by those protesting...
The addressing of additional impressive ignorance.
Interpreting what heathens do when unleashed,
Is difficult to swallow...
When those come forward to speak on microphones,
To be heard with their explanations...
Are clearly the ones to blame.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Baffled
There are those living
Who actually are convinced
They have power to enforce their beliefs
On other people to accept without objection
And these very same people
Regardless of the kind of enforcement they use
Are baffled that the cost of their attempts
Have their creditors making suggestions
As to what they should sell
To pay off their debts
Created to enforce others
To accept in a bowing done
How a way life lived
In in the best of their interests
Making not a bit of sense
Even to those debating themselves
In campaigns
Over realities they can no longer afford
To have others believe anymore
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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First Time
My girl and me, we had never meet or seen eachother
meet on internet, happened love n promised to live together
on the balcony of my college we made a plan to meet
she would cook n bring lunch, and for hour we would sit…
next day a wondered, amazed and a shy girl came alone
sat next to me, she was waiting for someone
for long time she sat alone, I was also waiting for someone
my girl, then I realized she has to be the one
I asked her name and yes she was my girl
We were sitting together and waiting but didn't knew at all
That the we were waiting eachother, then I sat near her
We didn't talked much but for long time only looked eachother
poem by Sushanta Rokka
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Exceptions Made To Created Rules
Exceptions made to created rules,
Has established the need.
For a Department of Addendums.
Making the following of rules,
Foolish.
For anyone attempting to understand,
The purpose of their origin.
Since the following of rules legitimately,
Hasn't made those values and standards...
Many proclaim as adding a quality to their lives,
A cost effective proposition.
In fact,
Prior to those exceptions made,
One's life lived had been with less complications.
Today,
Those complications are needing interpretations...
For those seeking explanations,
Whether to live basically with no rules to follow.
Or demand more addendums,
To define what basic means.
And which lawful rule is broken,
If one decides living a life that 'is' basic
Will not have them arrested for indecent exposure.
Since many will protest they have become offended.
By someone daring to live,
Without attempting to make impressions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Barren Trees Without Leaves
There is a wish you admit,
That I should in you believe.
And I should accept your weaknesses,
To keep my own hidden and unconfessed.
Allowing a tranquility uncontested,
Between you and me.
With an understanding I should accept.
But I can not live my life,
On needles and pins.
And step lightly...
As if not to break eggshells.
As you do what you please.
While I quiet my own unattended needs.
To cater to yours.
Should I usher you through the door?
Or should I waste not a haste,
By rushing through it quick.
To save myself from continued foolishness!
There is a wish you admit,
That I should in you believe.
And I should accept your weaknesses,
To keep my own hidden and unconfessed.
Allowing a tranquility uncontested,
Between you and me.
With an understanding I should accept.
I thought I loved you!
But you could never address...
Occupying a vacancy,
That warrants an end to my loneliness.
Should I usher you through the door?
Or should I waste not a haste,
By rushing through it quick.
To save myself from continued foolishness!
And...
For some reason,
I am not expecting recommendations...
You suggest.
It is best I see...
Not only the forest,
But the barren trees without leaves.
Or a branch that will stay connected,
To a happiness missed and wished desired.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nappy and Happy And Not Harried
I have never been 'black'.
Not midnight black.
Or even shown that,
At the crack of dawn.
I know that for a fact.
I would get up early to look.
And when I became African-American...
What happened to the West Indian part of me?
All I know is this,
Someone made an announcement...
And that part of my heritage,
Became a subdivision.
Like an urbanite separated...
From the others who surrounded,
In neighborhoods of suburban glee.
And when I wished to take all of that back,
To proclaim, in fact, I am indeed black...
It seems those who were lighter than I,
Wanted me to prove my loyalty too.
As if they had to approve...
My manner of speech,
And other things I chose to do.
I think they were trying to confuse me.
As confused as some of them appeared to be.
Sometimes when I did then reminisce,
The days of my youth I admit I missed...
I remember just being a 'Negro'.
And not have a concern...
On whose list I did not fit.
I was just 'Larry'...
Nappy and happy and not harried!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Was Early I Was Told
Happy I am,
To sit among those...
Of common faces.
No status have I ever wished,
To be a full fledged aristocrat...
With a flaunting strutted.
It was early I was told,
Don't spite my nose...
For a choice made to have another.
And any path that I chose,
To walk it the best I can.
Happy I am,
To be able to reflect...
With such great memories.
And daring to be challenged,
Was a gift and not a curse given to me.
I can see why today there are so many unhappy.
Those who wished to be kings and queens...
And referred to as someone's prince or princess,
Actually believed...
Themselves royalty.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter what they had or however looked like.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter where they lived.
Or impressions they 'gave'...
About how they lived their lives.
I was not raised to believe...
I was better than anyone to enable me,
To pass that kind of judgement.
And to have that encouraged,
To be welcomed or received as a belief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Will You Come and Stay
If I wished for the love I missed...
And your name is on it,
Like a repeated sonnet in my mind.
Will you come and stay,
To enhance my life.
Making right what has been wrong,
For too long.
Without that insight,
That now belongs.
I know now we have been 'there'
Together.
Is it possible we can return...
Back to forever we had said,
We would never leave.
Are you still loving me?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Alternatives
Wouldn't it be nice,
If others did what we liked.
With a taking of advice,
To do what it was.
We chose and approved.
No one then would be offended.
And everyone would live as we wished.
No one would have a need to defend,
A life like this,
In an unquestioned bliss.
But realities as they are,
Have many in conflict.
Those with certain beliefs,
Refuse to comprehend.
Why their perceptions are not adopted.
And those who express they accept alternatives,
Are the ones despised.
Because their lives lived like this,
Has delivered a happiness!
And for many that happiness for them does not exist.
Wouldn't it be nice,
If others did what we liked.
With a taking of advice,
To do what it was.
We chose and approved.
With a doing done we too.
Would not find the time to debate and argue.
Wouldn't it be nice,
If others did what we liked.
And isn't it wonderful.
To know we can be ignored.
To then share in the receiving.
Others exchange from their adventures explored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Obsessed With Making Impressions
Some folks are programmed to believe
They can not live without impressing others.
Until they have become deprogrammed!
And most times that is not a conscious effort.
It has a lot to do with one's circumstances.
Meaning...
A bout with reality!
And reality has a way of prioritizing one's life.
It puts the basicness in it!
Prior to this 'struggle' obsession rules!
One becomes obsessed with things!
And what one thinks 'things' to them bring!
Like an attractiveness.
Have you ever notice...
Someone who is able to afford 'things',
Is also indecisive?
Strip them of the opportunity to possess...
And they become depressed!
An unhappiness succeeds!
And their wholesome faith they once professed,
In God...
Diminishes!
However...
One not obsessed with making impressions.
Or connected by a 'programming'...
They are less attractive without needless possessions,
Can survive through a recession...
Or whatever a downsizing of a lifestyle is called,
Is better off!
They can deal with the adjustment of setting priorities.
Maybe lose a few friends in the process!
But you will not find these people upset,
They can not keep up with others...
Who are stressed within concepts,
That they need to feed an ego
No longer keeping up with the times!
And having a peace of mind...
Comes tax free with a lot of common sense,
Some folks discover too late...
How cost effective and healthy,
Nights with restful sleep...
Comes to the one who has put their life,
In perspective!
And becomes free of making useless confessions!
There is nothing like the smell of fresh morning dew.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stranded At The Moonbase
A long way up in light-years,
Just a pinpoint in space,
In a century of planetary storms,
Stranded at the moonbase,
The air is getting low.
The air is getting low.
Looking out at the roof-window,
I've seen many strange things,
From shooting stars to Stars 'n' Stripes
Thought I'd caught a glimpse of golden wings.
The air is getting low,
The air is getting low,
The air is getting low,
The air is getting low.
I got the vision of a big white dove.
I've heard the creaking of the pearly gates above.
I'm wond'ring why the big white dove
Is keeping me waiting, keeping me waiting,
Keeping me waiting, keeping me waiting,
Keeping me waiting, keeping me waiting.
Looking way down below me,
The worlds are all awhirl-whirly.
Won't you come along beside?
This place waits for company.
The air is getting low.
The air is getting low.
I leave my limbs behind me.
As I'm being lifted
Out into the, into the
Spiritual boom-boom abyss.
The air is getting low.
The air is getting low.
The air is getting low.
The air is getting low.
I got the vision of a big white dove.
I've heard the creaking of the pearly gates above.
I'm wond'ring why the big white dove
Is keeping me waiting, keeping me waiting,
Keeping me waiting, keeping me waiting,
Keeping me waiting, keeping me waiting.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Which Has Never Existed
Deprive them the ability to afford their dreams.
And pretensions to protect.
Deplete them of fantasies that fed their delusions.
And those impressions made that were the best.
Make real the realities upon them felt to feel,
With a breath to accept and all denials revealed.
What part has Mother Nature played,
In exposing that which has been concealed?
Assist them then with the crushing of all their traditions.
And foundations historically created to believe.
Leaving people to awaken to wonder,
Why they have been on their knees praying faithfully...
To that which has never existed.
Making it easier to control them.
And ensuring no resistance!
As one world with a few who rule expect!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Making Decisions
We make decisions.
Some of them quick.
Some of them split.
Some of them mixed,
With a wish to quit...
Making decisions we have to admit!
We make decisions.
Some of them quick.
Some of them split.
Some of them mixed,
With a wish to quit...
Making decisions we have to admit!
How often does a hindsight renew,
A clearer vision wished we had then used.
How often do we then excuse this...
As mistakes we've made,
Too late to shake away.
To turn around unphased,
Just to have things our way!
We make decisions.
Some of them quick.
Some of them split.
Some of them mixed,
With a wish to quit...
Making decisions we have to admit!
How often does a hindsight renew,
A clearer vision wished we had then used.
While making decisions wearing the same old shoes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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87
Remember that time you made the wish?
I make a lot of wishes.
The time I lied to you
about the butterfly. I always wondered
what you wished for.
What do you think I wished for?
I don't know. That I'd come back,
that we'd somehow be together in the end.
I wished for what I always wish for.
I wished for another poem.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poem By Louise Gluck, Now Rate It Zero, You Have Taste
Remember that time you made the wish?
I make a lot of wishes.
The time I lied to you
about the butterfly. I always wondered
what you wished for.
What do you think I wished for?
I don't know. That I'd come back,
that we'd somehow be together in the end.
I wished for what I always wish for.
I wished for another poem.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Clock of Life
You fought for my freedom.
I lived like a slave.
You gave your life for me.
So I could be saved.
From a life lived for myself.
More was never enough.
The things I thought made life easier.
But it just made life tough.
Keeping up with the Joneses.
Of my treasures I’d boast.
My material possessions.
Were the things I loved most.
Not the gifts that you lent me.
But the treasures I earned.
Now I see just how Satan.
Wants me to get burned.
Keep your eyes on the prizes.
Let your gifts pay the price.
For all your heart it goes into.
Holds you tight like a vice.
It will squeeze your life from you.
You’ll leave God behind.
You don’t realize that Satan.
Is robbing you blind.
Once he has taken it from you.
He will take your last breath.
And what once was a gift.
Has now become death.
He keeps you in your past.
Makes you think of tomorrow.
And this takes your today.
Time it cannot be borrowed.
For it’s all that you have.
And it is what he will take.
Til your heart is so broken.
That your spirit will break.
Life lived for your body.
Or lived for your mind.
The truths of the earth.
Keeps your spirit confined.
Your love is your time.
Your heart ticks like a clock.
And when it is over.
Your time it will stop.
When it is finished.
When you are gone.
Will your spirit die too.
Or will it live on?
Spend your time very wisely.
And in others invest.
This is what the Lord tells us.
And our Father knows best.
Live your life by your spirit.
Body and mind they will die.
One day they’ll be buried.
But your spirit will fly.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Unexpected Enlightenment Frightens
No one has seen the likes of this before.
Although all wanted to open new doors.
And when those doors opened,
To expose and disclose...
Those who wished to see fresh perspectives,
Now seek to keep,
All doors close.
Exclamations are heightened in negative exchanges!
A desire to return,
Where darkness kept their eyes from burning...
Produces a yearning heard,
By those disturbed by light.
An unexpected enlightenment frightens.
And this has caused them,
To flee in a united fearful flight.
A flight that divides,
The same people who once sought change.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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