These Days
Too jaded to raise an eyebrow now.
Suffering seen once provoked empathy...
Is as frequently exposed as bare butts on the streets!
Little boys in grown up skin,
Exposing their underwear as a 'chic' new trend!
Women with mouths like sailors on 'leave'...
Cussing directions to children,
While passersby look pleased!
Policemen busting addicts with drugs...
Either use them themselves,
Or sell them to thugs!
And an honest politician,
Is as rare as unpolluted air.
Some say these days are the last we live!
But I think those are just excuses made...
By those who insist life lived should be done negative!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Where Is the Justice In This?
I struggle with desires and wishes to remain ambitious.
To stay productive with a craving,
To release a freshened and creative point of view!
Unjaded by perceptions,
Becoming tainted by lack of drive and motivation.
I remember the days I sought ways to alarm.
To raise the hair on the backs of necks.
And to instantly fold arms...
By those totally disgusted!
But today I complete,
With those exposing their butts on urban streets.
And cussing with abandonment.
And not one eyebrow I see is lifted.
It use to make me happy to upset by surprise.
That was easy for me then to do.
Since I kept my true talents hidden in disguise.
Today it has become 'work'!
With no fun in it at all!
Especially when misfits are getting attention.
And everyone tries to look like them...
By spending every dime they've got at the malls.
And I had provided my weirdness absolutely free!
Genuine I had been with unique ceativity!
Today freaks are 'in'!
And I am regarded as common as Maple trees.
Where is the justice in this?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hooped Dresses In the Dirt Dragging
Is it so crazy to relive happy days.
With a squeaky clean innocence,
To amaze.
Gone are cloudy eyes cleared from a haze.
Reminiscent of those times,
Covered wagons were the rage.
Hooped dresses in the dirt dragging,
With dudes in zoot suits.
Wide-legged, high-waisted pants...
And wearing button spatted boots.
Today are seen exposed breasts.
And men's underwear.
No one wants to cover up,
Anything bare.
Hooped dresses in the dirt dragging.
Bring 'em back.
Bring' em back.
Dudes in zoot suits,
And wearing button spatted boots.
Bring 'em back.
Bring' em back.
Hooped dresses in the dirt dragging.
Bring 'em back.
My mind is old-fashion.
Yet ecclectic are my dreams.
I'd never thought I'd be a prude.
But some exposed butts demean.
So crude are these visions.
Looking away is not enough.
Who okayed today's display?
With no signs of it giving up!
My eyes have grown tired.
And my lips have long not touched.
'Where are we? '
Hooped dresses in the dirt dragging.
Bring 'em back.
Bring' em back.
Dudes in zoot suits,
And wearing button spatted boots.
Bring 'em back.
Bring' em back.
Hooped dresses in the dirt dragging.
Bring 'em back.
Today are seen exposed breasts.
And men's underwear.
No one wants to cover up,
Anything bare.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Doing What It Takes To Feel One's Best
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is 'not' something one adopts to do...
To get the attention.
Misconceptions about that are taught to those,
To leave them feeling insecure to be left exposed.
And psychologically dependent on others.
Those who are seeking the attention,
Are the ones making the excuses...
For everything done they do,
To avoid doing that which they should.
Fearing then no one would notice them at all.
And for them to be noticed is what is sought.
Leave them alone to figure themselves out,
And they wouldn't know what to do 'with' clues.
Especially if no one is there to listen,
To their opinions given or their version of life...
Yet for them to live.
But they'll try to convince others they know about.
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is 'not' something one adopts to do to get the attention.
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is something one does to comprehend.
And many not comprehending,
Can also be viewed amongst those refusing to listen.
Only a life lived to be one's best,
Is often a life lived making fewer excuses.
With less complaints heard,
To create and produce to seduce someone else...
For whatever the reason found around,
To digest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Compassion And Empathy
They have so much in common compassion and empathy
And those who do possess them are blessed 'twould seem to me
For these are rare enough gifts in the Human World of today
Where many are poor and homeless and in life have lost their way
Those with empathy and compassion in words never put others down
And you never will find them amongst the judgemental of the town
They feel for the suffering of others more of their type we do need
For their kindness and generosity of spirit as good people they do succeed
Those with empathy and compassion always helping people in poverty
They help the homeless and the destitute and they help the refugee
If everyone were like them there would not be poverty and crime
And war that cause death and suffering would be of another time
But not everyone is like them which does seem sad to say
So for those with compassion and empathy let us hear the loud hooray.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Lineage
Oh the tangled web we weave,
we're born, we live and then we leave.
But the web reached out in all directions
and in so doing we made connections.
They each became a grand design
in the life we lived and left behind.
Those we came from never knew
how their genes would later affect you.
Grandfathers, grandmothers and all your kin
are hidden quietly within your skin.
Your family tree is rooted in you.
Its limbs and branches, though not in view
have helped to shape the life you live
and you in turn will silently give
the new ones born into your line
the pattern in the web, a place so fine.
It will grow and spread far and wide
and those who came before and died
will surface in so many different ways.
And their feeling of closeness will fill your days.
Oh the tangled web we weave
is so marvelous I do believe.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Back In The Days Of My Youthful Glow
Both sympathy and empathy I understand,
With clarity.
There has been no part of my life...
Was there an option that I live,
If...
For just a few days or week.
Nor did I get the opportunity...
Just to live for the weekends to party.
Or...
Never did I run away,
From a task or deed to leave.
And I do understand,
There are millions living today...
In a sorrow that may seem to them,
Carried on backs weighted down by grief.
However...
Being a product of an environment,
I knew few that were pampered...
It becomes difficult for me,
To echange my experiences...
To walk in someone else's shoes.
Most of the time,
I had holes in the soles of mine.
And I was taught at an early age,
To keep my shoes shine...
Bathe.
Wear clean underwear.
And be thankful for what I had.
Even if that meant...
To be glad if I had nothing!
And...
Back in the days of my youthful glow,
Anyone would think I was ordained...
The 'king' of Bellevue Square.
A tenement project where poor Black folks lived,
To later become great people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Toronto Insite Clinic
Drug-addicts called 'clients' supported by nurses and support staff,
Illegal drugs bought on street and criminals just laugh,
Twelve injection booths to inject illicit drugs and get high,
Clean free needles, syringes, cookers, filters to help them fly.
Vancouver free site where drug addicts can do their drugs,
Though taxpayers pay for it and can get nothing but a shrug,
Though the Conservative government tried to close it down,
The Supreme Court told them to stop fooling around.
And now special-interest groups want one in Toronto too,
They would and could call it a health issue to bring it through,
And the taxpayers could pay the bills and take it on the chin,
Though the addicts bought drugs the street before they came in.
poem by James Bredin
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I am sure that the sad days and happenings were rare, and that I lived the joyous and careless life of other children; but just because the happy days were so habitual to me they made no impression upon my mind, and I can no longer recall them.
quote by Pierre Loti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boys Are Back In Town
Guess who just got back today
Them wildout boys, that'd been away
Haven't changed, had much to say
But man I still think them cats are great
They were asking if you were around
How you was, where you could be found
Told them you were living downtown
Driving all the old men crazy
The Boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I Said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
You know that chic who used to dance a lot?
Every night she'd be on the floor, shaken what she got
Man when I tell you she was cool she was red hot
I mean she was steamin'
And that time over at Johnny's place
When this chic got up and slapped Johnny's face
Man we just fell about the place
What that chic don't wanna know forget 'er
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
Spread the word around
Guess who's back in town
You spread the word around
Friday night they'll be dressed to kill
Down at Dino's bar and grill
The drinks will flow and blood would spill
If the boys wanna fight you better let 'em
That kid rocks down at the corner blasting out my favourite song
The nights are getting warmer and won't be long
Wont be long till the summer comes
Now that the boys are here again
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
(Spread the word around)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(The boys are back, the boys are back)
The boys are back in town again
They're hanging out at Dino's
The boys are back in town again
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hypertension
hypertension...
wonder why?
the whole country
in turmoil...
too many mouths,
open and needing....
too many souls,
pounding the streets.
too many promises,
broken for profit...
too many children,
honest eyes staring....
too many boys
shipped home in bodybags, , , ,
too many prisoners
by expendable choice.
too many empty houses,
too many homeless....
too many prayers,
that no one hears!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sign 'o' the Times
I am a simple man it seems
And happy I should be.
Not driven by the money train
Or chic celebrity
I wish to only live and breath
And find a house to dwell
And raise a little family
With loving wife as well
My only wants are very small
My outlook always bright
To work and earn to feed us all
To sleep so sound at night.
Be healthy and enjoy life so
To me is all it takes
But lately it's been touch and go
like someone hit the brakes.
For all around are darker foes
Who's wish it only seems
To break the hearts of simple men
And shatter all their dreams.
Men with money cheat and lie
Avoiding any sleaze
People in authority
We find so hard to please.
The law that stands to help us so
So strangely now entrenched
In battles with the 'average Joe'
no thought of common sense.
Councils snoop and use our cash
To persecute the meek
While thugs with drugs grow like a rash
Each day of every week.
Politicians lie and shout
And lose the very focus
Of what their job is all about
a mire of Hocus Pocus.
They say that money is so short
They have'nt got a bean.
Yet spend our cash on some report
It's really quite obscene
So what of I the simple man,
Who only wants to live?
And raise a little family
And has the love to give? .
Well truth be told upon my soul
A future I have none,
Like water down an unplugged hole
There's nowhere left to run..
poem by Dave James
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Have You?
You have never lived alone,
To be on your own.
With a vigilant and watchful eye,
On every possible angle in your life.
Have you?
You have never had the experience,
Of creating to walk on your own path...
Hoping not to be attacked, backstabbed,
Or laughed at.
Have you?
Have you ever found yourself in a corner,
And up against walls that seem to close?
But chose to crawl away from them,
To stand tall with everything about you exposed?
You have never felt pain,
That made you fall to your knees.
With just your faith AND God,
To relieve you from your agonies.
Have you?
You have never found a peace of mind,
To leave all your tragedies and suffering behind.
Or ever felt blessed with a happiness expressed,
To address your life as being very precious.
Have you?
Have you attempted to undo,
All those sorrows you go through.
Have you?
I know you haven't!
And, how do I know this?
All I hear from you are complaints.
And how you've been victimized too!
With not a sign from you to prove,
There is a concern for others...
Or an understanding that is not about you.
And all you wish to do...
Is to have more time to be negative,
Thoughtless and self-centered.
And this...
You have done as if experienced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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None of Them Have Men In Their Lives
None of them have men in their lives.
The boys that were raised...
Stayed boys.
Encouraged to do what boys do.
To go outside and play.
Games they would do all day.
None of them have men in their lives.
They were taught to criticize the ones that tried.
They would mock their attempts.
To convince the efforts made...
Were not up to par.
And less than grade A.
Leaving children to be raised by women...
To degrade any man that came their way!
None of them have men in their lives.
Because they do not recognize what one is.
They seek an image...
Portrayed by society.
And they wait for society to create for them...
Men that society has diminished,
With false images.
And none of them will ever find,
A man who can duck bullets and flies!
Or escape criticism...
For the things he does and tries.
There will never be a man,
To be who he is in their eyes.
They have all been lied to!
And that's why...
None of them have men in their lives!
Not even the boys who too seek men...
To show the women they have found at least one.
One that had a mind...
And did no prison time!
Or played games,
Like boys who grow up to look like men do!
None of them have men in their lives.
Since the ones who know they are,
Men.
Have chosen not to have anything to do with them.
Believing they are just as rare as true women.
So...
They fly alone solo!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hey Jack Kerouac
[ robert buck/natalie merchant ]
Hey jack kerouac, I think of your mother
And the tears she cried, she cried for none other
Than her little boy lost in our little world that hated
And that dared to drag him down. her little boy courageous
Who chose his words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
They all spoke through you.
Hey jack, now for the tricky part,
When you were the brightest star who were the shadows?
Of the san francisco beat boys you were the favorite.
Now they sit and rattle their bones and think of their blood stoned days.
You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
The hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
Nights in chinatown howling at night.
Allen baby, why so jaded?
Have the boys all grown up and their beauty faded?
Billy, what a saint theyve made you,
Just like mary down in mexico on all souls day.
You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Cool junk booting madmen, street minded girls
In harlem howling at night.
What a tear stained shock of the world,
Youve gone away without saying goodbye.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Always Made Sure I Had On Clean Underwear
Now that I have aged.
And grown into an acceptance,
I can appreciate.
I clearly comprehend...
Why some then,
Thought of me quite unusual.
You see...
I've never had a dysfunction,
I did not enjoy.
Or believe my blackness,
Was for me a disability.
I had not been raised...
To become caught up in the 'self'.
Or let someone's anger strike fear in me.
When I was called names...
And could not either spell them,
Or find them in the dictionary...
I always made sure I had on clean underwear.
That's right!
I remember my mother use to always say to us...
'I don't care what you do or don't understand,
You make sure when you leave outta here...
You bathe and have on clean underwear.'
And 'that' has been my philosophy all my life.
That's the only one I've kept,
That has made any sense to me.
With few debates to argue,
Do I encounter.
Knowing if I am ever made to sweat...
At least I am clean.
And ready for inspection.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Barenaked
Do you ever have that dream
where you're walking naked down the street
and everyone just stares
Do you ever feel so deep
that you speak your mind
to put others straight to sleep
You wonder if anybody cares
Sometimes I think I'm the only one
whose day turned out unlike it had begun
And I feel bare naked
And I just can't take it
I'm getting jaded
No I just can't fake it anymore
'Cuz I'm bare naked
And I know life's what you make it
Wish I could float away
to some other day
You ever go downstairs to start your day
but your car's not there
Yeah you know the joke's on you
You ever try your luck with a pickup line
But you just sucked
You tell yourself it wasn't you
And I know it's hard to hold it inside
It's days like these I run and hide
When I feel bare naked
And I just can't take it
I'm getting jaded
No I just can't fake it anymore
'Cuz I'm bare naked
And I know life's what you make it
Wish I could float away
to some other day
It's all a state of mind
but I don't mind trying to find a way
to keep my head above the mess I make
what the world creates
sometimes it feels so good to let it all fall
as the world fall
I may fall
we all may fall
and then the world comes tumbling
down down down down down
I'm bare naked
And I just can't take it
I'm getting jaded
No I just can't fake it anymore
'Cuz I'm bare naked
And I know life's what you make it
Wish I could float away
to some other day
When I feel .. feel (bare naked) .. feel
When I feel ..
Yeah no no no ..
song performed by by Jennifer Love Hewitt from Barenaked
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Country Woman
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
The first time I met you I knew you were the devils daughter
You came on like a river , doin all the things you oughta
Youre a self made women ,baby, not a made-to-order
If you had your way , I know youd make me stay
And that would only bring me down
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
(break)
Country women , country women ,country women
Country women, country women , ahh....
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
Leave my life alone
Country women now , country women now, country women now,
Country women now , country women now, country women now, (fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Illegal aliens
Some people call them refugees,
but to me they are illegal aliens.
The gates from Africa
lies wide open
and they cross illegally
during the day
and in the darkness of night.
It is a interesting thing
that they stream south
as if they can not make a living
in their own countries.
They brave the wild beasts
of the Kruger National park
and old and young
men and women and children
flock from everywhere in Africa
to a land with some prosperity.
They cross a unpatrolled
and unprotected border
by day and night.
and come on foot
and in any way
that they can.
Some employers
take them at a cut throat rate
and Nigerian criminals sell drugs
on the streets
and at street corners
foreign aliens beg,
and women sell themselves
and some foreigners
rape, steal and kill.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Using The Latest Of Manipulating Techniques
The only ones who seem to get serious,
About the living of their lives...
Are those who mature to come to realize,
No one seeks to give or get their attention.
So much these days have changed.
With so many unaware of it!
And throwing of tantrums done,
As seen frequently by grown men and women...
Demanding to have their way,
Even sophisticated children...
Using the latest of manipulating techniques,
Come to recognize as being outdated and dramatized.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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