This Might Create Friction
Those blessed with gifts and talents,
Aren't aware who has or has not.
Someone with an appetite,
Seeks to be fed.
And a feeding them of something,
Someone else may like...
Is often not the right thing to do.
You will be told.
And this might create friction.
Those blessed with gifts and talents,
Aren't aware who has or has not.
Someone with an appetite,
Seeks to be fed.
And a feeding them of something,
Someone else may like...
Is often not the right thing to do.
You will be told.
And this might create friction.
Or a repeated reminder!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Creator Is My Manager
I admit...
There are gifts and talents,
I was born with.
I never had desires to 'be'.
I just 'was'.
And took what I had for granted.
At one time I really did this.
I've been asked where I've studied.
And who has mentored me.
My response has always been The Creator.
To which then I get looks of disbelief.
And as I age and 'try' to mellow,
Others suggest I could be rich...
If I did 'this' and 'that' with my talents and gifts.
But things and bling and money it seems...
Has never attracted my consciousness.
If this happens to come to me as my Creator's wish,
Then by all means...
Those things will come to pay me a visit.
But thankful I am and tremendously blessed.
My Creator is my manager.
And I know what for me is best.
Perhaps my Creator,
Believes what I've been given is priceless.
And I have been nourishing myself,
With the feeding on delusions.
Whatever my Creator proposes,
Is the path I follow not to oppose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talents Die Easily In Africa!
Oh talents, oh talents!
Talents do die easily in Africa;
But, talents are special gifts which,
Money cannot buy.
It is a special gift,
It is in you,
You don't even need a Higher Degree for them;
Talents are everywhere on this earth.
The talents of Africa do die very often,
Who is even ready to listen to them?
The true talents of the Africans go to the drain.
Like a rain on a train,
Like an early wake up call without a view;
Life is really so strange over here in Africa.
I have a dream!
But, who will listen?
My brain is with various talents but,
Who will help me with my dreams?
Talents, talents, talents! !
Africa turns to regress in this field while,
Others do progress!
Our talents can be useful,
It's time we give a helping hand;
Oh talents, oh talents!
It's time we listen to those who have them;
Cos', we are the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stung By Ego
They all lay claims
On talents they have.
As if to aim their comments,
Towards someone believed
To be ego driven mad.
But anyone who is blessed
With gifts.
Understand that God
Wants them to work the ones
They have been blessed with.
To sit around and just make claims...
Only proves and displays a laziness gained.
And anyone who is not stung by ego...
Knows this sometimes,
Is not only heaven but most times hell!
As others who have visions of fame...
Are asleep to awaken,
With talents and gifts 'they' may know
Worthy of showing to produce to tell.
But seem to have less time to apply them,
And more time to find flourishing lies that swell...
Their heads!
With embellishment to relish,
Instead!
As they raise their lips in conceit,
To flap well!
As they prop up their feet,
In front of a TV.
Sitting their behinds on spreading seats,
To snack and eat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Less Sweat
Why is it,
That someone will waste their skills...
And talents,
With a wish to perform with the giving of their gifts...
On someone else's created stage,
To shower them with 'their' brilliance.
Why would someone abandoned their own abilities,
To create their own stage from those resources given...
With a highlighting of those,
Who will not be demeaned because it is known...
They have a need to fit into the wrong places.
With a giving away to others...
Who look to make claims of discoveries stolen,
To produce their own names to be seen in lights.
Leaving people with talents to fight,
To be seen...
Only to have what they bring,
Used.
To be 'thanked' but excused from the audition process.
I 'feel' for those who are told their presence is not needed.
But their unique talents exposed were certainly used,
To be re-labelled and approved for purposes to market.
And...
With less sweat that had been sacrificed.
At the expense of stealing from someone their scene.
'We're sorry.
However,
Thank you for sharing with us your unique abilities.
We'll keep your 'info' in our files.
Expect to hear from us...
One day.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Blessed Am I
How blessed am I for being born
Of parents good and God-fearing!
How blessed am I for siblings nine
Who made my childhood truly great!
How blessed am I for being made
Handsome and healthy, fair and hale!
How blessed am I for gaining ken
And virtues, wisdom, fortitude!
How blessed am I for being reared
So well by parents dutiful!
How blessed am I for achievements
Quite praiseworthy in life on earth!
How blessed am I for having fared
So well in life in every field!
How blessed am I for talents, gifts
That most men cannot dream to have!
How blessed am I for miracles
That gave my life a newer lease!
How blessed am I for finding time
To thank and praise the Almighty!
How blessed am I for grace of God
That goads me on in heaven’s road!
How blessed am I for everything
God gave me amply in His time!
How blessed am I for love of God
That chose me to be Christian!
How blessed am I for hope and faith
That help me follow Jesus’ steps!
How blessed am I for poesy
That made my life stress-free, worthwhile!
How blessed am I for God’s with me
And I’m with Him in earthly life!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So, these political activities will create friction in and of themselves, and in this environment of friction there'll be additional violence.
quote by John Abizaid
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maybe Your Time Is Missing
If you say you're in it and it doesn't seem to work...
Maybe your time is missing.
If you say it's on your agenda first...
Maybe you need to less rehearse.
Something aint feeding an appetite.
Somebody here tells a lie.
Something aint feeding an appetite.
I smell a lie that's denied.
If you say you're in it and it doesn't seem to work...
Maybe your time is missing.
If you say it's on your agenda first...
Maybe you need to less rehearse.
Why can't you be honest and tell the truth?
I smell a lie that's denied.
You must take me as someone who's a fool?
I smell a lie that's denied.
Something aint feeding an appetite.
Somebody here tells a lie.
Something aint feeding an appetite.
I smell a lie that's denied.
If you say you're in it and it doesn't seem to work...
Maybe your time is missing.
If you say it's on your agenda first...
Maybe you need to less rehearse.
Something aint feeding an appetite.
Somebody here tells a lie.
Something aint feeding an appetite.
I smell a lie that's denied.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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May I Have Another Helping of Those Delicious Critics, Please?
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I have been aware of them,
Since I began taking my first steps.
Since my first breath taken...
Was done independently.
I've heard it said,
My lifetime of actions...
By them has been disapproved.
And things I do have been ego led.
It's believed what I do,
Is done to seek attention.
Even those things I do to cleanse,
In privacy...
I care not mention.
We all have talents,
And those gifts that are given.
How I use the ones I have...
Aren't from a critic's invention.
Or maybe because of the creation of 'them'.
Who knows?
Perhaps that's what has them upset.
And if they have time like that to waste...
Don't hesitate in delay to say,
I am just getting started.
And what I've given to them to nibble...
Is just a little taste.
From a baking not completed,
Yet imaginations rate!
They have no idea,
Of who I am!
Or the making of 'me'.
And-what-that-takes!
Since I'm the cooker who does the feeding...
I know who eats!
And those served,
That ate.
Those who choose to regurgitate...
Do it without my decision given to make!
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I do admire their efforts,
But...
What's there is there for them to digest.
I'm not about to give up my peace,
Or my mind for them to test.
My eyes are clear,
And focused on my progress.
Not on things that I've done.
For purposes to keep manifested,
The days I spent in my youth...
Doing things to shock and stun,
Just for the 'hell' of having devilish fun.
Although I must admit,
There is 'something' about controversy...
That appetites my palate much more than just a bit.
'Excuse me...
I know I shouldn't.
Since I am here by invitation.
But,
May I have another helping of those delicious critics,
Please?
I can not believe they could be this delicious.
What have these critics been mixed with? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Based Upon Materialistic Concepts
I can not call my breathing a hobby.
Nor do I relate,
To those who associate creativity...
To a dollar bill.
And there are many like that.
Attached to things.
Disconnected spiritually...
To any talents or gifts,
To them God brings!
When asked how much I 'make'...
I get irate with folks like that.
And those who say they have no time to create...
I know right away,
With them I do not relate.
And those who say they have faith in God...
To only admit,
They do not accept God given talents,
Are their main jobs.
I have limited patience.
Knowing from them,
I can only expect a production of excuses.
Based upon materialistic concepts.
And as I age...
From folks like this,
I wish to keep my distance.
And God kept pleased!
Since He is the only One,
To know where I come from.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sensations
I am always 'here'...
Like the consciousness,
Keeping me aware!
With a vision clear.
I am not one,
To select fast exits.
Or seeking just fun!
Like the choice made by some.
I am not that kind...
To take for granted my 'gifts'
The ones that God has blessed me with!
To be part of this creation is bliss.
Especially when time is not mine to define!
I am here to accomplish.
I am here to succeed.
I am not here to stunt my growth...
Like some I see drifting,
As if tumbleweeds!
Always 'here' it appears.
And my purpose is clear,
As I reach to do my best!
Feeling blessed and tested,
On the path I walk...
Sometimes I am faulted,
But never do I think to halt!
Or rest,
To contemplate burdens,
Laid upon my chest!
I am always 'here'...
Like the consciousness,
Keeping me aware!
With a vision clear.
I am not one...
Teased by temptations that come.
To select fast exits.
Or seeking just fun!
Like the choice made by some.
Those who find they must stay on the run!
I am not that kind...
To take for granted my 'gifts'
The ones that God has blessed me with!
To be part of this creation...
Is my bliss,
That anoints me with sensations that fit!
With an understanding,
Of why I am allowed to be here.
To exist as I do...
Knowing the 'who' of me like this!
And with God beside me,
To assist me through!
Being here in the now...
Is the mood I choose!
I am always 'here'...
With God close to me near!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blessed Cats and Dogs
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
Causing the country to insist
What the blows are to the chest.
Why do little angels work so caressed?
Making the country to assist
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
My soldiers in the army are with a blood test,
Keeping lines and dictation as a checklist,
What the blows are to the chest.
Amazed by the brilliance of those in the contest,
Canine help became something to co-exist,
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
May service feed the animals of conquest,
Domestic keepers will arrive at their crest,
What the blows are to the chest.
We see, we know the animals are depressed,
May loving people take a goodness as a list,
What the blows are to the chest,
Cats and dogs, aren’t they blessed?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Going To Find That Time To Be Available
I find I remain available,
For that which I am blessed to get done.
I don't sit and find excuses to express my gifts.
Nor hesitate to create...
With both curiousity and gratefulness appreciated.
I find I remain available,
For that which I am blessed to get done.
I feel that which I am able to get done and do...
Is an obligation I have chosen to devote and love.
And I am going to find that time to be available!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friction
I crave that touch
The friction
When the light outside
Dims
I desire your warmth next to me
The friction
I need the constant tugging and pulling
The forever playful fighting
The friction
So so damn close
I want it but pull away.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Each Day You Live
Feel blessed.
Give thanks and be grateful.
Your talents and gifts
May not be like those of your neighbors.
But that does not diminish your value.
And you are valued.
If you weren't...
The Sun would not shine upon you!
Even when you felt a little bit cloudy.
And sometimes drench with a cleansing rain.
But it is all good.
All of it.
Only if you saw it that way,
Each day you live...
With life given to you.
You would think of them as priceless.
Each and every day.
And glow knowing it!
Having no one in a position to assess you at all!
How could they?
When you are among God's treasures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let That Ego Go
The one thing I find remarkable...
About your insistence,
To manipulate your way into the limelight.
With a persistence you solicit.
I wonder why?
Your talents defy comparison.
With gifts unlimited.
Let that ego go!
You can afford to get rid of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Those Who Are Gifted
These gifts to me have not been given,
To let sit and observe their rust.
But to constantly polish and share their lustre.
And I perceive this mission as a must.
For those who are gifted,
With talents they let drift away.
Seem too quick to earn a dollar from them...
Only to quit to say,
The worth of their gifts...
Did not return to them any profit!
These gifts to me have not been given,
To let sit and observe their rust.
But to constantly polish and share their lustre.
And I perceive this mission as a must.
One blessed by God...
Should first serve His purpose.
With a gratefulness to prove,
A decision God has made...
Was done to shine forth a light!
To move where He chooses,
Whether day or night.
Not to smother in unthankfulness.
To offer God one's attititude.
Why do people do this?
Take for granted what God does...
Then choose to dismiss it?
To satify egos others should solicit.
To flaunt and cherish,
As if one merits the attention.
To take and celebrate...
Without a word of God to mention!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do You Use Your Gifts?
I'm using my blessings and faith,
To create identifiable miracles.
And you?
How do you use your gifts?
In the begging of stuff?
That others have?
By using their own,
Faith kept persisted.
And what they have manage to materialize,
Makes you jealous and mad?
Your selfishness is pathetic!
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
In the begging of stuff?
That others have?
By using their own,
Faith kept persisted.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Deceit and Honorable Hypocrisy!
People aren't just thrusted into the limelight,
For doing absolutely nothing.
They may be seen doing absolutely nothing noteworthy,
When they are actually there.
But to come from nowhere...
To then be everywhere?
With a hype unlike found under microscope,
Day and night!
To then proclaim...
An unawareness?
Not too many of us 'trip' like this!
And not to intentionally bring attention upon oneself?
Even lunatics can create better excuses.
People aren't just thrusted into the limelight,
For doing absolutely nothing.
That's been done too many times by those who create wars.
Those who stick their busy noses into places...
Then proclaim an innocence.
Like a child found with a mouthful of mints.
After being told too many times...
Lieing does not make sense!
When their misdeeds are exposed,
With a spreading of the evidence.
And pictures of them posing wickedly,
Smiling in front of unusually familiar...
Although conquered foreign doors.
Knowing they've been warned many times before.
People aren't just thrusted into the limelight,
For doing absolutely nothing.
Something done that they did or do,
Got them exactly what they wanted.
With the aid of those who empathize,
With lies reeking...
Of deceit and honorable hypocrisy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Standing Or Dancing Under Spotlight
Why aren't you dancing under the spotlight?
Why not dazzle the audience,
With that side of your talents?
'I am sitting here amazed,
How that light can beam centerstage...
And all I want to do is to observe it! '
Why?
'It just occurred to me...
I've never sought spotlight.
And there it is as if teasing.'
Aren't you tempted to bask in it?
'Not at all.
Immediately I would get bored with it.'
Why?
'People would expect me to want to be,
Under it all the time.
Waiting for me to entertain them somehow.
And nothing bores me more than routine.
I am more interested to know...
How someone who controls that spotlight,
Maintains such patience...
Following someone with such ego,
Who seems to want that light on them all the time!
I bet that person has an interesting conversation.'
I never thought about that!
'Me either.
Not until I began to smell that peach cobbler.
Can you smell it? '
Yeah!
Yeah I can!
'When was the last time saw anyone,
Standing under spotlight eating?
Anything? '
Performers aren't allowed to eat onstage.
'On stage?
Performers aren't expected to eat, period.
And...
I want a taste of that pie.
Standing or dancing under spotlight,
Is the furthest thing from my mind! '
Let's go see how much of it is left.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unintending To Be Perceived As Offensive
I accept with appreciation,
Compliments from others.
Who become aware of my attempts.
Sometimes I wish,
I could express more enthusiasm.
To show such thankfulness for such gifts.
And this I've done for many years in my routines.
With a doing done I do,
In a process that of my creation sees.
I accept with appreciation,
Compliments from others.
Who become aware of my attempts.
Sometimes I wish,
I could express more enthusiasm.
To show such thankfulness for such gifts.
And I do say, 'Thank you.'
Since I am grateful for the attention my gifts get.
Although I consider myself an 'elf' sometimes,
Just doing my part as God's work in progress.
With a doing at times God knows,
Can be a bit mischievous with a willingness unintending.
To be perceived as offensive when that deed I do gets done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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