Those Slow To Learn Their Lessons
So many years have passed.
And so many have lived their lives,
Being led down the wrong paths...
To one day discover,
As if the clouds have been removed...
From clearing eyes and minds,
To realize those tasks and evil misdeeds...
Done to others in times left behind,
Should have never by them...
The focus of their attention given.
But...
It was.
And those who had been picked,
For those misdeeds done determined...
To have been fit and appropriate,
Might have also awakened with a change of mind.
Perhaps for them they were willing once 'then' to forgive,
But today they may be more convinced...
That those slow to learn their lessons as quick,
Are deserving of repeated teachings...
Until such doing has become satisfying to please.
And those messages they attempted to deliver,
Are guaranteed to have been received.
'I don't understand why I am the one,
Treated in such an offensive manner.'
~Don't worry about it.
You're not the only one who suffers,
From a selective memory.
All you have to do is connect the dots.
What have you done,
That you wish had been forgotten? ~
'I don't remember.'
~Apparently someone you afflicted does.
And has chosen this moment to test.
Until your mind connects.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Into The Wilderness
Always there will be those,
Going out of their way as if chosen...
To inflict their wicked misdeeds upon others.
Only to arrive with feelings they discover,
Has left them to grieve wishing forgiveness.
Knowing...
Time has not come to heal their wounds.
And those who have been picked to be inflicted,
With wounds...know this.
Even attempts made trying to hide them,
Still sit not to be forgotten.
And the repeated visits with bitterness,
Sometimes may take them on long drives...
To 'trip' into the wilderness just to cry...alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Making Time And Finding Comfort
I awakened today,
With yesterday on my mind.
And the day before.,
Along with those days before that...
Gone but obviously not forgotten.
And I asked myself...
Why are times I can not change,
Making time and finding comfort in my mind?
And giving me a reason to trip,
With 'what 'ifs'?
I awakened today,
With yesterday on my mind.
And the day before.,
Along with those days before that...
Gone but obviously not forgotten.
And I asked myself...
'If it is time you want to waste,
Why can't you take some of it...
And clean up your house? '
Needless to say...
I thought that comment was extremely rude.
So I left.
Determined to return when I felt like it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Haunted By Their Own Misdeeds
One should never base their opinion given,
Received from another...
To judge someone else with purposes to defame.
The outcome to them delivered by such actions...
May not return the same to shame.
However...
The chances that the consequences faced,
Seldom embraces them to favor.
Since most people are often haunted,
By their own misdeeds.
Squeezing from their minds,
A comforting of rational sensibilities.
Left to themselves they are.
And abandoned.
To convalesce on their own alone.
And a wish to sleep peacefully at night,
Is rare.
As unfamiliar sounds come to creep in the silent air.
'Who's there? '
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
'I can hear your footsteps.'
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
'Slowly...as a stalking panther,
I can hear you coming up the stairs.'
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
And when the dawn comes to find them shaking,
Crotched in the corners to hide from darkened shadows...
Lifted.
It is soon discovered,
A door thought locked and bolted had been left open.
Leaving them to wonder...
How many visits like this will be repeated?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Retribution
I doubt seriously,
If anyone dances with glee...
To know someone has received a retribution,
Done for the doing of their misdeeds.
It's just in the doing of these misdeeds done,
Someone that does them...
Should realize the consequences paid,
Will to them someday come with no excuses made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Getting Their Weekly Dosages
It is remarkable.
People actually believe,
They can sit through a ritual...
And transcend their demons.
Like a forgiveness given,
Automatically erases misdeeds.
As if a cleansing takes place.
And one becomes gifted,
With selective memory.
And all is forgotten.
Perhaps that is the reason,
Why some places...
Are so crowded on Sunday,
By those getting their weekly dosages!
With descriptions of sins,
So vividly captured to tempt one's taste.
AFTER deep prayer.
To entice a repeated visit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Here to Communicate and Connect
I don't exist,
To see my name on the top
Of any list.
Or debate about my life experiences.
With anyone quick to pass judgement.
I am here to communicate and connect,
With those reflecting a consciousness
I can respect.
And that mission has been tough...
Since expanded minds,
Are not spread around enough!
But it is quick to spot egos.
They come out of the woodwork...
With pretensions they show much.
Flaunting ignorance and misdeeds,
As a sign of their intelligence.
And a senselessness that's out of touch!
Some will even use flattery to capture victims.
There have been all kinds of obstacles on my path...
To delay meaningful conversations,
With those who have similar tasks!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With a Choice to Keep the Value
Why is it important to you now,
To hear my voice?
When it was you,
Who made not listening to me...
Your choice.
Why is my comprehension mentioned,
To be a priority of your concern?
I'm well aware of those lessons I've learned.
And few of them taught I seek to be repeated.
You brought to me then an acknowledgement.
And I did not hesitate,
To connect that to my common sense.
I received it and I heeded.
Why is it important to you now,
To hear my voice.
To review conversations,
I attempted to make...
That came to rest on deaf ears?
Perhaps there is a clarity,
Not understood before...
But overnight your eyes opened.
And a clarity that could have been yours...
Has now between your ears appeared?
Go ahead and say,
What you believe today is okay.
However,
If I should abruptly walk away...
Think of it as not being disrespectful.
But a sign of the times,
When one finds peace of mind.
With a choice to keep the value of it protected.
Think of my getting away from you,
In that perspective!
A treasured gift one gets...
To never be neglected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Breaking All The Rules
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
Deceit defeated will end all misdeeds.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
Deceit defeated will end all misdeeds.
You'll be stopped from braking all the rules.
And...
Stopped from doing tricky things you do.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
Many want it kept pursued,
The...
Duping and the suckering to fool,
THEY DO!
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming soon...
With deceit defeated.
With deceit defeated.
And...
None of it to be repeated deeds.
I can feel it!
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah...
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming...
Since deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming...
Since deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
Oh...yes.
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
Oh...yes.
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These Episodes Remain To Stay Played
Of course I am going to remember being insulted.
And being the butt end of loudly spoken jokes.
These episodes remain to stay played,
In the mind of the one they are directed towards.
Especially if one is chosen for this to be done,
On a daily basis.
Wouldn't you say?
Unless you are the forgetful kind.
And accustomed to degrading others.
Because it seems the popular thing to do!
And for many...
Not a few,
Their misdeeds are seldom forgotten...
To forgive!
And I happen to be one to believe,
There is no such thing as sincere apologies.
I just think some people become embarrassed,
When those they insult with intention...
Are discovered to be better people,
Than what had been rumored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A Seeking Sought To Sit On A Rooftop
Sure,
I believe others should be heard.
With a speaking of their minds,
In expectations to be respected.
And if I had not earned the way,
To learn to do that on my own...
Knowing it had taken me,
Many years to discover that for myself...
I too would believe someone else,
Would be less deserving.
And I would 'still' be upset.
However...
I have never witnessed from my own observation,
The building of any structure on a foundation...
Erected without the skills of an architect.
And one day I awakened to realize,
The importance of those two elements...
Being connected.
And if it had not been,
For my experience with impatience...
Patience and I would not have ever met.
So I completely understand,
Anyone not comprehending that.
And...
With a seeking sought to sit on a rooftop,
Without the walls being installed yet.
I too have had wishes to climb a tree.
Until I found one that enabled me to do it.
And then I discovered,
There were taller trees too intimidating.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prosperity's Curse
Today the Church in America has truly lost Her focus and Her sight,
For America has truly been blinded by Her prosperity and Her might.
The day of opportunity is almost over and will soon turn to night,
So why is The Body of Christ not holding up the only guiding light?
Our purpose is to take The Light of Christ and penetrate the night,
Where what we know is wrong is proclaimed by evil men to be right.
We were told that evil men and imposters would go from bad to worse,
And to understand their wicked lies God's Truth must be dispersed.
And even though in His image God created all the men upon the earth,
They will never understand or attempt to change without a New Birth.
With the prosperity America has achieved came the ugly sin of pride,
And the Boldness we received by Grace, it has quickly pushed aside.
We do not have a spirit of timidity but boldness to say why He died,
But Christians who are quiet appear to have come along for the ride.
Today many Christians seem to think they can believe and just hide,
But The Lord who looks down on all says that He will not be denied.
Today the Church appears to have been cursed with a Laodicean mind,
Saying they're rich they don't know they're pitiful, poor and blind.
But there's still time to press on and leave this evil world behind,
So have a change of heart and The Holy Spirit will renew your mind.
(Copyright © 08/2002)
Sick Of Their Tricks
I've had it with demons and sick of their tricks.
I've witnessed their tactics...
To identify them quick.
My need to observe them with curiosity,
Has diminished my giving any attention.
With an unleashed disbelief.
I've had it with demons and sick of their tricks.
I've witnessed their tactics...
To identify them quick.
Donating my time to be further manipulated,
To have my focus by them castrated.
Has left them behind to tempt or bait my mind.
My need to observe them with curiosity,
Has diminished my giving any attention to them.
With an unleashing of disbelief.
To wonder in a pondering as they increase their misdeeds.
I've had it with demons and sick of their tricks.
I've witnessed their tactics...
To identify them quick.
Not even to pause to peep what they seek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Setting A Few Records Straight
There is nothing like confronting,
An adversary who initiates conflicts...
But somehow has forgotten,
The ones that attempted...
To ruin you and your reputation.
With character assassination...
And malicious gossip,
Propped up on lips nonstop!
The only ones knowing,
What this might be like...
Are those not living their lives,
Appeasing others...
Sitting on a fence.
And living in a noncommitment status!
With hand extended to welcome you,
The one with an absence of memory...
Invites you as someone new,
To a neighborhood...
You had long lived before,
Being ushered away years ago.
But those into 'looks' aren't consumed with history.
No...
There is nothing like it!
Nor is there anything quite like,
Those decisions one chooses to ignore or make!
Especially,
When confronted with setting a few records straight!
'You look as 'if' you have something on your mind.
What could someone like you...
Possibly have on your mind?
Besides me?
And...
I hope you don't think I am being too forward? '
~Not at all!
You're making this more easier than I initially thought.~
'You are such the tease! '
~You have no idea how close I am to stopping.
And just let you have what I'd like to deliver.
But...
With you,
I am going to take my time!
I hope you're into sports? ~
'Me?
I love them! '
~I'm learning to become fond of them myself.
I enjoy skydiving and mountain climbing.
Which one of those would you like to learn? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Shall See
You've gone crazy
But i don't mind
You're gonna wish you never left my side
You shall see you should have stayed with me
When you come walkin' thru my neighborhood
You can only guess our love will be so good
You shall see, you were meant for me
You got so many plans, but i don't mind
I sure can't understand, why you left me behind
But when you realize your big mistake
You see that you was wrong but you'll be too late
Because i'll be long gone, and you will find you
Should have never left my side
She will cry, banby i don't mind
The way that you mistreated me
You were so unkind, but when you find
You'll wish you could still be mine
Now i know the reason why love had me so blind
You told me that you care
I should have read between lines
Well, now tht tables truned
You shall see
You missed your last change
To get with me
You got so many plans, but i don't mind
I sure can't understand, why you left me behind
But when you realize your big mistake
You see that you was wrong but you'll be too late
Because i'll be long gone, and you will find you
Should have never left my side
Oh, you come knockin', on my front door
You're gonnbe so sad i don't love you no more
'cause your love is tainted
Your love is frustrated
Your love is mismated
Your love is a river, river run dry
You got so many plans, but i don't mind
I sure can't understand, why you left me behind
But when you realize your big mistake
You see that you was wrong but you'll be too late
Because i'll be long gone, and you will find you
Should have never left my side
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spontaneity
You know where and how to find me.
I make no attempts not to be accessible.
But to hear from others...
You have not seen me for awhile,
Is more than a bit embellished.
In fact...
The last time I saw you publicly,
You pretended not to see me at all.
Remember?
Go ahead...
You have already proven,
To have a reliable selective memory.
Were you waiting from me to approach you?
To display your best act of phoniness?
I only have one face to give in this life.
Only one!
I use to have those expectations myself,
When others I would see...
On the street with their friends,
Taking opportunities to avoid me.
But these are the days of our lives,
Aren't they?
And today those same people,
Say I do not speak when I see them.
And they are right!
So quick now they seem to be observant.
Receiving sometimes is not so pleasant.
And...
I only deliver what I receive.
There is more on my mind,
Than the premeditating of responses.
Or the rehearsing of approaches.
There is something about spontaneity I like.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Existing to Feed the Greed of Thieves
If the eyes of today,
Aren't opened as wide...
As the hole one feels in saddened hearts,
Or emptying pockets
Stripped
Of everything other than one's balled fists.
Those unaware...
And can not feel this,
Are either hopelessly smug.
Or drugged on crack!
People like these are addicted to being deceived.
And do not need to become awakened from their beliefs.
Leave them to be left...
Experiencing a slow painful death enjoyed!
Only a twisted mind will become annoyed,
If attempts are tried!
They are in denial!
They have accepted their lives have been lived well.
And all this time they are doing just fine!
With minds existing...
To feed the greed of thieves.
Choosing to perceive them,
As the ones who have been 'chosen'...
To lead them to abundance and victory!
And absolutely nothing anyone says,
Will close that hole in their hearts.
Or mend that space in their heads!
They are already...
Among the walking dead!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My First Love
For no reason at all she came into my thoughts and dreams
I don’t know why, I haven’t seen her since she was seventeen.
She brought with her forgotten memories I thought had gone,
but they’re still there to think about and to touch upon.
The happy and sad times that we both lived through
as teenage lovers with passions so strong and true.
We lived and breathed for each other every moment of the day,
and our hearts would break if we had to spend time away.
So strong was our love, we would have died for each other,
we experienced every emotion that was possible together.
My insane jealous nature eventually forced us to part
it left us with sadness and our first broken heart.
At the time there was nothing else worth living for,
but time heals and I found another love to adore.
Looking back, my first true love is still special to me,
we discovered what love was and how it should be.
And whenever she comes to mind I think back and smile,
and thank her for the memories that are so worthwhile.
The postman put a letter through the letterbox today
it said that my first love had recently passed away.
Even though she’s left this world she lives on in my memory
and as long as I shall live she’ll be with me.
In my thoughts and dreams I see her as she was so long ago,
and it’s over fifty years since we said our first hello.
poem by Orlando Belo
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You Were Right. I Now Take My Flight! C-YA!
My purpose is not to focus on,
What isn't.
For a minimizing of that which is in my life,
That 'is'.
Why should I continue,
To maximize the obvious.
When reactions have been unanimous,
That part of their lives they have chosen not to fix.
Arguments have been presented.
Claims of blame have defamed and shamed.
Those who have had no discipline within them,
Now voice their self righteousness!
As if they have spent a life committed,
Uplifting the minds of those dimwitted.
A rehabilitation done behind bars...
Does not a perfected society make.
Especially if those have sacrificed their lives,
Time and minds...
To have been demeaned by those,
Who have now found GOD.
After spending years wearing,
Government issued prison clothes!
'THIS 'fix' you believe should be turned around quick,
Has been a result of your involvement that created it! '
My purpose is not to focus on,
What isn't.
For a minimizing of that which is in my life,
That 'is'.
I've earned my peace of mind.
And any happiness I have found in it.
Your fear of accountability,
Has been your gift given...
To those you now want to ridicule and preach!
And I remember you telling me,
My methods were out of touch.
You were right.
I now take my flight!
C-YA!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bad Lighting From Oil Lamps
Applying today,
What worked yesterday...
And seemed a perfect fit.
May have lost its usefulness.
The benefits have been exhausted.
And yesterday for many has gone as lived.
Those living today,
Are not patiently awaiting...
For updated versions,
Of that which for them does not exist.
That kind of patience for them,
Is not authentic!
And those minds left to praise war,
As a cause to maintain an elusive peace...
Are as outdated as the typewriters they use,
To get their messages across.
Lost they are...
In the bad lighting from oil lamps of times passed.
'Do as I say.
And hand deliver those alerts,
To the town crier.
And if Paul is not available,
Hand them to someone else.
Or my suggestion would be...
Do it yourself.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Amulet
The gift I received so long ago, I wore for
protection wherever i'd go.
Inside was your picture. You were my beau.
So many years have passed by since then
and now to my memory it comes once again.
I wrapped it in tissue the day that you died
and put it away until my tears dried.
My life seemed as if I never could find
the reason for living, as though I were blind.
Why did you leave me? Where did you go?
The days of my life, they moved too slow.
As I grew older my mind went to sleep.
The tears, my love I couldn't even weep.
And then one day a flash in my mind
told me there was something I had to find.
A pendant, a charm or an amulet?
Oh let me remember. Don't let me forget.
I searched and searched all over my rooms.
So much time had gone by, so many moons.
My closets, my drawers, I emptied them out.
Even the Bible I'd almost thrown out.
And then as I picked up the coat that I'd worn
to your funeral my dear that left me forlorn.
The memory of that, how could I forget?
Inside its pocket was my amulet.
I opened it slowly to see once again.
The memory of it all came back and then
before it could fade and my memory depart,
I clasped it on tightly right over my heart.
Now you'll protect me until I'm with you.
I hold it. I treasure it. That's what I do.
The feel of it now as I hold it in hand
gives me peace I need to make my mind
understamd.
-Dedicated to all Alzheimer Patients
poem by Edwina Reizer
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