This Does Them In
So sad are they with minds limited.
They had paid to obtain an intelligence...
But leave schools degreed,
Without one hint...
Of how to apply common sense.
And they seek employment...
With resumés that say they qualify!
But not a thought connects,
That proves a thinking process.
Although they are selected.
Because of their hair...
And the color of their eyes.
And salaried they are...
To expose their incompetence...
That eventually represents,
A complete ineptness.
But that does not prevent,
A promotion based only...
On their attractiveness!
And they are placed in positions,
To discourage those who are far more brilliant!
Why?
To protect a host of insecurities.
As they try to thrive on greed...
As a bleeding economy dies.
Without an implementation,
Of an embracing did...
With a true diversification done!
And this does them in,
In the end!
Human resources neglected,
Does not lead to one's success.
Regret is what one frets.
Regret is what is left and met.
Regret is what reflects the mess.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Regret's A Cold Companion
Regret's no consolation
For things no longer near
Regret's no panacea
For problems that were clear
Regret's a backward looking
For things that were to last
For hopes that were to happen
Now firm stuck in the past
Regret's a cold companion
Regret's a dulling force
Regret finds its own dominion
In that process called divorce.
poem by David Keig
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In Spite of Opposition
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
In spite of oppostion,
Of those who say he lacks experience.
Although he shows qualities,
They themselves have not yet shown.
He is a man of color...
And that they regret.
They rather show images of those of color...
As children needing diapers changed,
Because they are still 'wet'!
And they want this known.
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
And he represents a time...
In which people in the right minds,
Seek an updated image...
Of what others rather see,
Enforcibly diminished!
But a darkness lifts...
To allow those to see,
Truth in reality they can believe.
In spite of opposition...
Conflicts existing,
Seem pointless to keep inflicting.
And the greed of it...
Reveals the minds of those sick,
Who insist to feast upon their wickedness to feed.
And in spite of opposition,
He proves he is the best choice to select...
And to lead.
Whatever he lacks...
He still over his opposition succeeds.
Leaving people to question:
'If he lacks experience...
Why have the people 'experienced' the mess,
His opposition who say they are more qualified...
Digress with such mess and wish for more of it to leave! ? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Am I Qualified?
How am I qualified?
I would not be selected,
To be in your presence!
What experience do I have?
Has anything you verified,
Been connected or tied to corruption?
My life is based on 'fact'...
Not on created lies!
I am here to replace a mess,
I did not create.
I am here to achieve...
Not sit around and fake!
What did I like about my last position?
Leaving it in a better condition.
What did I dislike and why?
Being surrounded by incompetence.
And being around people who made no sense...
And got paid.
Proving I can correct mistakes,
Others had made.
Being taken for granted.
And having my point of view slanted.
Having my character slandered and despised.
Seeing people backstab and creating viscious alibis.
Gossipying and not doing tasks assigned.
Dining on the clock and whining all the time!
Why should you hire me?
That's a decision you must make.
But if you take a look out of your window...
And leave those pretensions you have behind.
You will discover there are very few left...
Who are 'not' completely out of their minds.
You are not going to find anyone like me...
For that fee to continue to swallow your BS,
And smother your crimes!
Let's get real here.
If you don't hire me...
Who else will you get?
To protect what's left of a quality of life,
You did your best to keep away from me.
Now that infestation has defected your reality.
And for years I've been getting you to hear and see...
Without me you will never do things right!
That's why you have few peaceful nights.
How am I qualified?
I've stood by and watched you,
Defy your own ignorance,
To spite everything I am.
Including my intelligence.
If you don't hire me and my honesty...
You will never climb out of the hole,
That swallows you as it grows.
How am I qualified?
I would not be selected,
To be in your presence!
With a mind still clear...
That is competent and bold!
And that clearly has not happened here!
I do not fear success or working at my best.
I may be more than qualified.
Judging from the surprised look you have in your eyes.
I would call what I have 'integrity'.
And if you don't hire me...
It will be the last of it you see!
And I hope you wont gamble with this opportunity.
Especially at these prices you offer and wish to pay!
Consider this deal a steal!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Other Than He and His Has Anything Left
Strategically...
He leaves the world in shambles!
He who stares incompetence in the face.
And has no regrets for the consequences.
He sees himself selected to lead,
With divine footsteps.
He believes himself worthy to be a fool.
Used.
Sympathetic,
Few are not.
Many wish to see him beheaded.
Or either tarred and feathered.
Since he represents those who are Jim Crow minded.
And absent of common sense.
He's so low in the opinion polls...
His closest allies are those,
Trying to get him a ride to the space station.
To be his first stop on a 'goodwill mission'.
He has even made his own poppa cry.
And tears of joy they were not!
Strategically...
He leaves the world in shambles!
He who stares incompetence in the face.
And has no regrets for the consequences.
Nor is he apologetic for creating such a mess.
With the best of 'intelligence'
That a theft that has taken place can buy!
If he had some 'handsome-in-nity'!
And something going on besides failure...
He would have received 'some' respect!
By someone,
From somewhere.
There has to be at least one empathetic soul,
On the planet.
But look what he and they have done!
Who other than he and his has anything left?
And who is going to suggest erecting his library?
When he has already been read!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pick Up The Pieces of The Mess That's Made
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
Make sure no remnants get,
To be left kept as toxins.
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
And don't have one regret,
This challenge you have met!
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
Make sure no remnants get,
To be left kept as toxins.
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
And don't have one regret,
You've met the challenge that's been swept.
Don't let this creep into your sleep.
As if a daydreamed lover,
Is a desire you wish to meet.
Get up and beat this need fatiguing.
If you want a peace of mind...
Don't become weakened by routines,
You know should be left behind.
No need to keep this stored and neat,
As if this is sublime.
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
Make sure no remnants get,
To be left kept as toxins.
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
And don't have one regret,
This challenge you have met!
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
Make sure no remnants get,
To be left kept as toxins.
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
And don't have one regret,
You've met the challenge that's been swept.
Make sure no remnants get,
To be left kept as toxins.
Make sure no remnants get,
To be left kept as toxins.
Pick up the pieces of the mess that's made.
And don't have one regret,
This challenge you have met!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There's no regret. You can't regret. I mean, I've felt regret but I've also refused to allow regret to sow a seed and live in me because I don't believe it. You feel it, it's like guilt, it's like jealousy, it's like all those horrible things. You've just got to snip them and get them out, because they're no good.
Regrets
I regret those hurtful words
And every meaningless threat
That was made
I regret walking away angry
When we both
Should have stayed
I regret our lack of effort
We should have worked our problems through
But the biggest regret of all?
Is not expressing
Just how much I love you
poem by CarolAnne Spalding
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Conversations With a Numbskull
Bless your heart.
Those who try,
Prying common sense...
From those densed,
With an overflow of intelligence.
Fenced in within concepts.
Lacking concentrated depth.
And yet regurgitate,
Book sense ineptness.
Conversations with a numbskull,
Can perplex and can dull.
Bless your heart.
Those who try!
Some who did...
Left them with tears in their eyes.
Thinking of themselves to be fools!
Numbskulls can do it!
If you allow them to prove,
And leave you as proof.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Promotion Of A Nothingness
The promotion of a nothingness,
To coverup insecurities...
Is as pronounced as those with them,
Who continue to make attempts to smother...
The uselessness of their incompetence,
That has expose them and their failures...
In everything touched that has been done they do!
And this has always been vocalized,
By those who have stood on the shoulders...
Of ohers who have made true accomplishments.
And all they have done...
Those shouting their indignities,
Is to feed a deceiving of greed inherited...
By a hand-me-down of slick tricks and theft!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Somewhere Deep Inside Your Denials Kept
Heckled by the hecklers,
Now found splintered by their own grief.
So easy was it for them to ridicule...
When they had the safety of employment,
And the backing of what they believed...
Was an economy strong to support their taunts!
Now haunted by their flaunting ways,
To portray themselves as a better class.
With some among them now asking why,
If they are so superior...
Why have those they've elected to protect them...
Blatantly ignore them and treat them like common trash?
'Oh...?
Your trash has been common for quite a while!
That is what those of deceiving greed do.
Psych and hype up the minds to gain trust.
And suck up your resources...
While they ensure you are entertained by concepts of greed,
And the need to feed temptations and lust!
Then with a pinch of fear to inflict.
With a dominating hatred...
Towards those who are promoted as enemies.
Using one's color and religion as excuses to begin.
And then to spread the word,
They are coming...coming they are,
To destroy the interests of those addicted...
To a way of life nonexisting.
Only in the throes of propaganda!
As seen on TV and in commercial ads.
And then with that as a distraction...
All funds are pocketed and then they run!
Isn't that not obvious? '
~But we are children of the chosen! ~
'You have been chosen?
Yes!
Oh yes.You have! Most definitely.
You have been chosen...
To be duped, hoodwinked, bamboozled, smoked screened...
Lied to with deceit and stripped of your resources.
And I'll refrain from calling you a sucker.
Somewhere deep inside your denials kept,
I am sure you now have a clue already hinting.
With a manifesting...
Supporting the widening of your eyes! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Over Medicating With A Self Importance
We can't imitate the living of life.
We can,
However.
Prevent others from doing so.
To limit eventually,
Our own growth process.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need a tour guide.
We can't imitate the living of life.
Nor can we insist what is not visible exists.
But so much of life lived is not visible...
To expose to anyone to prove it being done.
Most of life lived when given,
Is based on sheer faith and confidence.
Patience and the giving of sacrificial time.
With the knowing in one's mind.
Something divine is keeping track of the mess,
Human beings have made in attempts to perfect nonsense.
We can't imitate the living of life.
Once one has been blessed with it.
There is something genuine and real,
About the feelings one has.
We can,
However.
Prevent others from doing so.
To leave them to live their own lives.
And allow others to learn and grow,
For the sharing of those experiences.
But many don't get this!
Without that interdependence.
We limit eventually,
Our own growth process.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need a tour guide.
We would rather destroy other lives,
With the enforcement of values and standards...
We perceive with beliefs are best for others,
When in fact.
We are hard pressed to show any evidence,
To convince within our own minds.
Of that working for ourselves.
But an over medicating with a self importance?
We can do with the right prescription.
Not to take but to test.
With the observing of the affects on others.
To arrive at a feeling of perfection.
And that,
As of yet.
Can not be found.
However.
We can always say,
What we believe has been achieved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The framework I found, which made the decision [to start Amazon in 1994] incredibly easy, was what I called a regret minimization framework. I wanted to project myself forward to age 80 and say, 'OK, I'm looking back on my life. I want to minimize the number of regrets I have.' And I knew that when I was 80, I was not going to regret having tried this. I was not going to regret trying to participate in this thing called the Internet that I thought was going to be a really big deal. I knew that if I failed, I wouldn't regret that. But I knew the one thing I might regret is not ever having tried. I knew that that would haunt me every day.
quote by Jeff Bezos
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Save Your Best Sweat
Rebounding from heartbreak,
Is a slow process.
Rushing to snuggle in another's nest,
Can become a complexing regret
If progressed
Especially if one is selected...
To pass someone's loyalty test!
This move is not advisable,
After mending from a recent 'mess'
Left!
Stay away from recreational sex,
And save your best sweat...
For someone better than your 'ex'!
Who cheated with blatant success.
Get some rest.
This will be much needed,
When the heat seeks
To avoid a repeated defeat...
As your examination closely inspects,
A fresh 'victim' you have chosen
To jump through 'hoops' to impress!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Sell Their Souls
Impulsive and full of himself.
That is the image of the legacy he leaves.
Incompetent?
That is not the right word.
Connected!
That's it.
Once you know someone who knows someone else...
That doesn't take intelligence, common sense,
Or even a thought process to distinguish between the two.
People sell their souls to acquire a certain status.
And to have that shared with just a few...
Eventually makes a fool respectable.
And no one in their right mind would allow an idiot,
To achieve anything of dominance.
But then again...
This assessment by now should be obvious.
And a painful admission experienced by many,
Who have allowed themselves to believe
Anything he represents has depth.
Or a consiousness connected.
Although connected he is to those of like minds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Remorse Of Ignorance
A humble request from the deepness of thought.
It is not a desire for something that can be bought.
But the ability to speak straight from the heart.
Say what you mean and mean what you say with the best intentions applied.
But sometimes these ideas are not well meant and seem quite popurous to the human eye at least at the time when it matters most.
Why does it always feel like we're chasing our own ghost?
You know what hes was right.
To bad we've never had a chance to tell him.
The remorse of ignorance.
So instead we market the idea as our own.
Never giving him the credit due.
A luxury that has come and pasted.
A regret of not doing more to protect the idea of doing things for humanity's sake.
A humanitarian in need in a society based off greed.
A common place where it is do as you please as long as you have the green.
All a waste so it seems in a world of fultility.
A million ending to write, which one will be your reality?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Don't Make Me
Don't make me angry,
Don't make me sad.
You'll regret,
Doing it.
Don't make me bad,
Don't make me afraid,
You'll regret,
Doing it.
Don't make me nice,
Don't make me good,
You'llk regret,
Doing it.
Don't make me happy,
Don't make me laugh,
You'll regret,
Doing it.
Don't make me learn,
Don't make me run.
You'll regret,
Doing it.
Don't make me mad,
Don't make me aggrevated,
Or I'll,
Kill you...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Brink Of Extinction
Creating with a solicitation,
A lazy and undisciplined existence.
To identify a segment of one's population,
As dysfunctional.
May for those responsible,
In the implementation of this...
Boost egos.
But cost effective?
No!
Only fools feeding an isolated greed,
Would keep this as their belief.
Only a complete ignorance,
Would perceive this approach...
To be an effective reflection of greatness.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
From the time of their birth...
Would find this uplifting to their self worth.
And not an encouragement nourishing,
One to the brink of extinction.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
Of those threatening their insecurities...
Eventually will find this point of view of superiority,
A mentally degrading aspect...
Of their own growth process and not an asset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until It Is Seen
Since they don't think of themselves,
As great.
Their activities produce...
Far less than great things.
What's in the mind,
People will find around them!
You know...
Seek to find,
For validation!
I grew up around some 'Dare to Be Brilliant People'.
All we had was our minds.
And early acquaintances with a can opener!
We were challenged then to use our minds...
And look our best!
These were in schools,
Before the 'Let's Move Away From 'Them' Those Negros'...
Days.
I remember too well,
When they were implemented.
Like the beginning of the ending of something.
You know...
It's like the feeling one gets,
When someone else does something stupid.
And you want to reach out...
But the 'I'm Better Than You' look is given!
So one backs off,
And does their own thing.
One backs off,
And observes the mistakes occurring.
One backs way off...
When insults begin to be thrown!
And this is condoned by the environment!
And backed by government policies.
Introduced to protect the greed of thieves.
Since they don't think of themselves,
As great.
Not face to face.
Their activities produce...
Far less than great things.
What's in the mind,
People will find around them.
To distort their existence.
With an enhanced ignorance.
Like devastation one creates.
And choosing to describe it...
In a way that it does not affect,
A reflection of their insecurities.
And wishing they could move away from them...
Like something they find disgusting!
To invent their own demise.
One accepted as more trusting.
And one that can be disguised.
But those with early acquaintances,
With a can opener...
Had been 'conditioned' to observe these events,
From distances.
And with opened eyes.
In a rejected effectiveness!
That begins to disturb.
And peel slowly away,
To expose and pain the nerves.
Of those who choose their conflicts,
To battle on fields no longer appealing.
Comes back to affect those now desperate.
Those expressing a social and mental,
Defectiveness!
And banning together to protest...
Their 'upsetness' in regret!
And in a massive state of denial.
But these days 'from' them,
They can not push away.
Like visions on a TV set!
They can turn off and go play!
Today those 'visions' are there,
To show them how they came.
And how they got that way.
And an ugliness prepares to come to sit.
And visit!
Until it is seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Closer Gets...
Closer gets 'their' revelation.
As a crisis escalates...
During the remaining days,
Of their limited consciousness.
With weaponed muscle flexed,
To deflect any remnants of peace left.
The violence inflicted,
Reflects an unending madness.
A sadness witnessed...
To bring a people certain regret.
And yet...
There are those believing,
They've been chosen to enforce this mentality.
Can not conceive...
Their actions bring upon them,
Much regret, pain, sorrow and sustained grief.
Deities observing,
Prepare for them defeat.
And closer gets a stopping to this!
These acts of hatred and wickedness.
By a process that awakens and shakes them all.
As the closing of two thousand and eight is celebrated.
With an opening of a gate...
That shocks their visions.
And freezes them in a state of mind replaced!
'These misdeeds implanted will stop!
Lessons left unheeded and not obeyed...
Will begin again this day with a fresh start! '
~What and 'WHO' is 'that'? ~
*I have no clue!
But I do know this...
It is far more powerful than me or you!
And I am willing to bet...
'Whatever' that is,
'IT' isn't here to be tested! *
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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B: XIIII: Last Thoughts Ordered
Regular glimpses of truth
Provided by vocation
Kept regret at bay.
I neglected funeral arrangements.
No no-man's-land exists
In my line of work,
Sudden death's a hazard.
I have one last poem to glimpse.
I am being taken
At approximately the same age
At which pleasure-seekers
Should be taken
If long regret
And its vocation of tomb arrangement,
Instead of changed vocation,
Is not to set in.
Pity not overly:
That age is not as early
As it used to be.
One day they all too
May keep regret at bay,
Taken...suddenly...late.
Entombed conservatively.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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