Their Nickel Plated Copper Spoons
Have you ever gone to a place,
Besides an amusement park...
To notice how effective,
An unchanged mentality...
Can have and leave impressed,
On an environment refusing to address it!
The minds of the people are stuck in time zones.
A past is more vividly remembered,
Than a living is done in the HERE and NOW!
And socially the majority of the people,
Have subsidized mindsets.
With a faithfulness attached...
To what is believed are assets.
Like one's physical appearance,
Brings a disrespecting laughter heard...
From those raised to believe,
Their nickel plated copper spoons...
Are actually made out of one hundred percent silver!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Grandma's Silver
You met me
and I had given up.
You met me
and I took out the good china
from Grandma's hutch;
her gold-plated knives, forks and spoons
and the silver,
toasting you
that summer night
had both of us playing house.
I was the gourmet cook,
you were eating hearty
and wolfed down lustily my heart;
made me forget giving up
for giving it up
happily;
mostly from memory
and you were kind enough
not to notice
how awkwardly
and how long
my breathing took
to run to smooth.
It was the conversation
I believe
late into the night
that over-came me
re-mending those broken heart pieces
which laid themselves out carefully
on my dining room
table;
festooned
with grandma's
silver and gold-plated spoons.
We have gone on now through
paper, wood
and silver anniversaries;
golden
on our horizon;
nearing fifty years.
Thanks Grandma
for the silver-ware
and for him.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Are They Now?
I...
Am not the same,
As...
I use to be.
And...
Where are those use to be's,
People believed...
Would never leave.
No I...
Am not the same,
As...
I use to be.
No I'm not.
And I...
Hope I'll never, ever...
Remain,
Unchanged...
To stay the same.
I...
Am not the same,
As...
I use to be.
And...
Where are those use to be's,
People believed...
Should never leave.
And where are those,
Use to be's...
People believed,
Would never leave.
Where are they now?
Those use to be's...
People believed,
Would never leave.
And where are they now?
Where are they?
Those use to be's,
People believed,
Would never leave.
Where are they now.
Where are they?
Those use to be's,
People believed...
Would never leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without A Clue Or Hint
I love it when people make attempts,
To compare themselves...
With others living in totally different,
Environments.
I love it when it is believed,
An exchange of experiences can be done.
With an evaluation,
That validates...
An assumption from a mouth that comes.
I love it when people believe they can critique.
Based upon comfort zones,
Those of limited mindsets...
Rarely and infrequently leave.
I love it when those pass their judgements on others.
Without a clue or hint,
What others endure...
To face and remove those obstacles to them sent.
Or knows what one goes through,
To feed themselves, ...
Shelter, clothe or pay their 'own' bills AND the rent!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suffering From Head Wounds
Those told what to do most of their lives,
What to think, how to think...
What not to believe or listen to.
And who is stupid,
Because of their physical appearances...
Are those who are most traumatized,
By the sign of these rapidly changing times.
Not all...
But most people have been conditioned to believe,
That the unchanged color of a house...
Also determines what goes on inside.
No matter how many renovations have taken place.
Or evolving maturities of the people living in it.
All people will do is to talk about what they 'knew'.
Or what they've been told.
And...
Most of the time what is known,
Had been heard from one's now grown children...
Or a pet dog or cat,
Programmed to be reliable.
But not from the horse's mouth!
People rather beat their horses to death,
Repeatedly.
Those told most of their lives,
What to think, how to think...
What not to believe or listen to.
And who is stupid,
Because of their physical appearances...
Are those who are most traumatized,
By the sign of the times.
Without being medicated,
Few people are sure if and when they should...
Take a left or right turn,
Why and for what purpose.
And if they should or should not ignore,
Signs that warn them to yield and pay attention...
With caution!
People have been taught to believe and do as they please,
Because...
Well,
They are entitled to do so for the rest of their lives.
'Medic...
There's another one over here suffering from head wounds.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Your Point Has Been Well Made
No matter who is teleprompted to say it best.
With the aid of computerized corrected text.
There has been a definite downslide in the quality of life.
And less sense is made by those who become offended,
By those who elect to publicly mention this.
No matter who is teleprompted to say it best.
The proof of it witnessed will not be corrected,
Until the people see it is not a focus on a leadership believed.
It is within each individual to awaken from their fantasies,
To face the truth as it is.
With a stopping of a stubborn resistance to it!
'I find your remarks socially unethical and not acceptable.'
~I don't blame you at all.
I am one of the few who has refused to renew,
My season pass to the amusement park.~
'Well...
You allowed that to expire so get off your soapbox.'
~Your point has been well made.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Mentality of One's Ignorance
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
One's environment exposes them...
To a comfort they grow to thirst.
People of limited securities,
Are the first to label and compare.
Uncertain of their own identities...
They use status and class,
To separate themselves...
In communities as if others are diseased.
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
Beliefs and standards are subsidized,
To qualify one's worth.
And the ones who are at a disadvantage...
Aren't the ones who are depicted as poor!
The ones whose lives are victimized...
Are those who take from others,
With a quest that feeds a need for more!
And unsatisfied with their own lives...
They refuse to respect other cultures,
By imposing their own,
Upon foreign shores.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stuck In Their Nonexistent Beliefs
It is difficult to leave behind,
Those whose minds are kept defined...
By times no longer here to breathe.
What keeps them fixed,
With such a stubbornness...
Has many refusing to converse with them.
And abruptly from them people leave.
To find fresh air pollution free.
Rapidly changes are amongst us to see.
To witness and adapt appropriately.
But there are those who will remain,
Stuck in their nonexistent beliefs...
That horsedrawn wagons and cobblestone streets,
Were innovations never to be replaced.
Even when shifting winds...
Show an aging upon their disbelieving faces.
With deep concerns that can be traced...
Back to those times they can not let go!
Yet argue to be heard,
Their way of life for 'certain' people...
Is more than well deserved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Asome Poem About PEOPLE
Some people
Care about you, some people
Don’t care,
Make fun of you and walk away,
Some people,
Run past, some people
Hand you presents,
Give you a pat on the back,
Some people
You love, some people
You don’t know
Some people, some people,
You do,
Some people
You notice, some people
Eat cauliflower, some people
Are teenagers,
Some people walk to restaurants,
Sit down at the counter,
Eat there food, through it at
People,
Some people never notice you,
Some people always look, some people
Want to take you away, some people
Will never exist
Some people are other people; some people are you, some people
Die ever second,
Some people are you
poem by Annie Nosich
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Kept Boys
Kept boys,
Refusing to step...
Even for a few seconds away,
From playgrounds and corners...
Where they would mingle to stay.
On an everyday basis for years...
As time from them passed,
To leave their minds uncleared.
Kept boys,
Never growing to become men...
To begin that journey.
But instead taught to dropp their seed,
To impregnate from a selection of silly girls...
To pick and choose from whom they please.
Believing themselves then accepted...
And seen as men and women.
But men and women they will never be.
Kept boys,
Prison inmates and leeches...
Many down low and weak.
And impressed to follow images,
Gives them bragging rights to keep.
These kept boys are on a mission,
To remain in stuck manifested positions...
Cemented in stereotypes.
And validated by an environment,
That makes this decay alright to condone...
Mindless appetites in and outside broken homes.
Kept boys,
Refusing to step...
Even for a few seconds away,
From playgrounds and corners...
Where they would mingle to stay.
On an everyday basis for years...
As time from them passed,
To leave their minds uncleared.
And...
Reflects a tragicness permitted to exist.
With hopes if kept illuminated in deceptions cheered,
This will eventually portray generations of strength.
Representing a heritage of fools used,
To exist only to play upon themselves games and pranks.
As kept boys!
Never to be ranked with strength as men.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It is proof of a base and low mind for one to wish to think with the masses or majority, merely because the majority is the majority. Truth does not change because it is, or is not, believed by a majority of the people.
quote by Giordano Bruno
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Physicality Of Things
Living to identify and adjust,
To the physicality of things...
Loses one an opportunity to gain any wisdom,
From the spiritual side of life.
One into 'things' and the implied importance,
This emptiness brings...
Satisfies a perception,
That what one has equates one's worth.
Sad is the mind stuck on Earth like that.
Unconscious of all the traps that attract.
And imprisoned,
By a lack of time...
To adventure all that Mother Nature offers.
And,
It is an unfortunate observation to witness this...
But,
Those impressed by appearances and 'bling'...
Would have to be struck by lightening,
To appreciate the benefits the gift of life has to offer.
There are very few people,
Not limited in their minds...
Who can honestly say today,
They have no biases of any kind.
Very, very few can say that,
And keep an eye contact going on.
People are not yet that honest with themselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Places And People....! ! !
Some peopleCare about you
some peopleDon't care,
Make fun of you and walk away,
Some people, Run past,
some people Hand you present
Give you a pat on the back,
Some peopleYou love,
some peopleYou don't know Some people,
You do, Some people You notice,
some people Are teenagers,
Some people never notice you,
Some people always look,
Some people Want to take you away
Some people Will never exist
Some people are other people;
Some people are you,
Some people Die every second,
Some people are you
poem by Anandita Trikha
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Crazed Are Some Programmed Mindsets
Giving of myself, talents and time,
Use to be an easy thing for me to do.
I didn't mind it.
I found in doing so it was enjoyed.
Until I discovered my efforts being taken for granted.
And I stopped feeling grateful to give my stuff away.
'Assuming' what I had done was appreciated.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
I then began to notice people,
Believing to be doing me the favor...
To share in the wasting of my time!
Thinking of me to be perceive as selfish.
And 'if' I had not given my best,
They wouldn't have known me at all.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
Today as I come to think about this,
I give them less of my best.
And of me it is thought I seek their attention.
That's how people into themselves think.
Until they are shown,
Doors that have been permanently closed.
And ignored are those with turned up noses.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
And their lack of consciousness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Played On
People of a certain mentality,
Have a commonness with each other...
And they play games.
The more they believe they are in demand,
They do this...
And the game remains the same.
They make promises they never keep.
They wish to make others wait...
While they deceive another,
Who is not aware they cheat.
And doing this preserving an innocence believed.
As they juggle several relationships,
Until their spouses find this out...
And from them they leave!
People of a certain mentality,
Have a commonness with each other...
And they play games.
Stupid ones!
But they don't know they are played on them,
Everyday!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Raised To Worship Money
When people are raised to worship money,
With a disrespecting of themselves to obtain it...
The absence of sincerity shows.
As their mental and physical deficiencies grow,
They seem to be frantically caught and seen seeking...
Anything quick to numb the pain to get that 'normal' feeling.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Angered That Truth Now Sits
The first time I was introduced to truth,
I had to walk around with my head down.
The obviousness of it had yet to arrive,
In my environment.
And the mindsets of the people,
Were still locked into blocking...
Anything that dealt with truth.
When it was spoken,
Voices were raised in protest.
Accusations of being negative were mentioned.
People had become sensitive in the protection,
Of their delusions.
With a defending of their ignorance!
The first time I was introduced to truth,
I had to walk around with my head down.
Today?
People are protesting the fading away,
Of their delusions.
They have begun angered that truth now sits.
Truth has declared it remains to stay!
And not make a temporary visit.
People have become upset with it!
And obsessed with the turning back of a clock.
A clock that has long ran out of time...
For them to find themselves and embrace reality!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Be Alarmed By This
Don't be alarmed by this.
But there are people who actually believe,
They have a purpose with a faithfulness
To keep their noses up in other people's business.
And,
With dedication.
Some go to the extent,
To let it be known they stalk.
With a creation of all movements to gossip.
Others are so obsessed,
They tell others 'who' it is they know.
That they have yet not met
With the detailing of what that one has done,
From the moment they leave to return to their doorstep.
And who enters their home and what time that person left.
Don't be alarmed by this.
But there are people who actually believe,
They have a purpose with a faithfulness.
To keep their noses up in other people's business.
And,
With dedication.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As If Waiting To Be Revenged
There is something about being disrespected,
That cements itself in one's mind to stay.
As if waiting to be revenged.
No matter who pretends a forgiveness has been given...
As if one's approval has been voted upon to be accepted.
By those who participated in the disrespecting.
The one disrespected does not forget.
And the culprits aren't quite sure,
If their deeds done have been remembered.
But if anyone has been singled out for mockery...
Well,
The odds they will remember being ridiculed,
Are pretty much one sided.
And those who have been 'stung' by people like this,
Do not awaken as if overnight they are excited and prepared...
To be in the presence of those whose minds have been rehabilitated.
I could care less how many scriptures are quoted.
And the recent donation of their charitable ways.
A conscious attack made upon another.
Is an attack upon another that was made consciously.
Say that any way you please.
If anything,
New tactics have been learned that has sealed one's identity.
And one's dignity maintained is never compromised,
By those wishing to make other people miserable.
And there is nothing like watching people like that,
Do that to themselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think the younger generation, the people poised to dominate the workforce, are more socially conscious. They are more demanding in terms of environment and how that environment contributes to their life.
quote by Helmut Jahn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Many This Is 'Still' A Mystery
It annoys me when I hear,
People say they must go away...
To another place to get things done.
As if when they arrive at their destinations,
Someone there is awaiting...
To hand to them their lives to live.
And without any effort...
A strolling through an amusement park is welcomed.
For anyone who knows what it takes to initiate a process,
Time must be given to it.
And there will be opposition.
Especially if qualifications are considered.
But there are some who believe,
All they need is to show up.
And the doing of that for many...
This is 'still' a mystery as to how they should proceed,
Even in places they wish to leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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