Those Who Sympathize Do Not Pretend
When a quantity lacks quality.
And a marketing of garbage is anticipated.
Since garbage and trash thrive with medocrity.
How can anyone identify a high standard?
When reproductions are more suitable,
To those with aspirations just to be exposed...
To the theme of things.
And not to origins of originality seeped in innovation.
Or wish to come into contact with its depth!
That would involve a patience to comprehend,
Such motivation.
And comprehension is not the intention,
When some begin to pretend!
They may be patrons.
Fun seekers who enjoy being in the presence,
Of whatever it is prioritized at the moment.
But sympathizers they are not!
And those who sympathize do not pretend,
When there is something they know about truth...
In one's artistry.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is No Escaping From The Garbage We Leave
At the end of any day,
A trash collector...
And someone else,
Who may have a Doctorate's degree...
Have the same thing in common!
Both have a lifetime association...
With the creation of garbage.
Whether that garbage is recycled or not!
Dropped on the street...
Or rolled up to put into one's pocket.
Regardless of 'who' is paid,
To pick their trash up...
Both can be observed,
Leaving something to forget...
To be hauled away from a curb.
And those perceptions of who we are,
With or without daily impressions to make...
Who we impress or charades we fake,
There is no escaping from the garbage we leave.
It's all over the place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Have Skeletons In Your Closet
A faithful presence kept within,
Isn't in need of outside intervention.
Or someone to assess the depth of it.
A faithful presence kept within,
Has been tested through one's experiences.
And not a piece of it is scattered,
To allow judgemental critique...
Others unconsciously,
Enjoy to see another in defeat.
A faithful presence kept within,
Reflects a strength in battles against opposition.
With an emotional bleeding,
One may feel but does not show.
'You are not perfect.
I've known and have seen what you've done.
You have skeletons in your closet.
Just like everyone.'
~Those skeletons.
Were they behind door number one, two or three?
And while you were whispering behind my back...
There's not an aspect of my life,
Hidden from the eyes of God who keeps contact.~
'I know you 'sin'.'
I never said I didn't
Or will not again.
A faithful presence kept within,
Isn't in need of outside intervention.
Or someone to assess the depth of it.
I am a work-in-progess.
And 'that' I don't pretend.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you put garbage in a computer nothing comes out but garbage. But this garbage, having passed through a very expensive machine, is somehow ennobled and none dare criticize it.
quote by Rory Bremner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Are Not Aware Of That Yet
Respect received,
From a people bleeding...
Of self worth and identity.
Has never been a consideration,
For those who do to get done.
Especially in an atmosphere,
Where those accustomed...
To shun their own integrities,
Have been fed to erase.
Like a thought process expected...
But will never surface to take place.
It is not on their fast food,
Addicted to self abusing menus.
But accusations,
Absent of self examination?
Is not to be questioned to ponder!
Folks like these lack that depth.
And a patience for them to awaken,
Has gone!
But they are not aware of that yet.
Garbage in.
Garbage out.
Until all lights are turned out.
And that is what their lives have been about!
A fear to connected to their own greatness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Are You There?
When I feel too far away
From where I want to be
Theres nothing left for me, yeah
When I feel too close to breathe
Like a baby cutting teeth
In you I find relief
cause when its more than I can take
I pushed and pulled to break
A sucker for a saint in your eyes
Criticism comes in waves
Numbering our days
But only you can save me
Is anybody even there
Who doesnt just pretend to care
This time I need to know - are you there?
Does anybody think they can
Begin to even understand
This time I need to know - are you there?
Hang on, hang on
I know, I know
Its the lie that we believe
A truth that we conceive
That lies inside of me
When I leave it all behind
Something hypnotized
The moment that its mine
Is anybody even there
Who doesnt just pretend to care
This time I need to know - are you there?
Does anybody think they can
Begin to even understand
This time I need to know - are you there?
Is anybody even there?
Who doesnt just pretend to care
This time I need to know - are you there?
Does anybody think they can
Begin to even understand
This time I need to know - are you there?
song performed by by Oleander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bares Thru Us?
BARES THRU US?
by Alex Lewis
i'm taking out the TRASh (of society) :
the only way to set all the others free.
i will dispose of all of it:
those healthy in mind and body-fit.
in this, RUbbish, you won't find the needy,
only the selfish and the greedy.
i have no garbagE-collecting mechanism
to pick up all of the racism
i'll put them in the traSH bag next to the ignoramus.
i'm talking, of course, about the rich and famous.
at the request of the children,
i'll be rid of each republican.
finally, i can take the garBage out
before the scum see what's about.
now, everyone else will be at peace,
especially the lazy and the police.
i have only one word of warning for you all:
once again, the rUbbish bag will get full. ?
poem by Alex Lewis
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Y... Garbage Man
Become a garbage man
Every day, just for a minute
Search for some litter
Pick up some garbage
Where ever you can
Don't stoop down.
Not good for the back
Just sit on your heels
Stay squatted and look up
It gives you a special perspective
Pick up a hand full
Walk to the bin
Not the nearest
The walking is exercise
Good for your body
So, become a garbage man
It can give you perspective
It is good for your body
It is good for the world
Just a hand full per day.
-
Note:
Garbage men really deserve ou full respect.
I got the idea to write this piece when I was picking up a handful of garbage from the beach. I thought if there more people picking up garbage than people throwing garbage, littering would no longer be a problem.
I hope in this poem there is nothing disrespectful of garbage men. They really do a great job en deserve our respect as much as doctors and lawyers deserve our respect (as indicated in the comments by unwritten soul below)
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Don't Drop Your Garbage
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you teach'.
With self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting on the edge are jumpy.
And twice as many want to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage.
Get from my door and get to steppin'.
Don't want to regret what I do.
I wish to keep that evil sleepin'.
Don't wake it up,
I ask of you!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you 'teach'.
With your self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting with an edge are jumpy.
And twice as many look to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
I'd like to keep myself polite.
Get away!
I don't want to get those demons screaming.
Or stir a yelling to disturb my peaceful night.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Here's a good thing to do if you go to a party and you don't know anybody First, take out the garbage. Then go around and collect any extra garbage that people might have, like a crumpled-up napkin, and take that out too. Pretty soon people will want to meet the busy garbage guy.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Allowing Us To Clear Our Heads
What I have done,
Personally...
To ensure the new neighbors,
Adhere to policies that have been in effect...
For many years,
Is to suggest and recommend...
Their children not smoke pot in the front yard.
Or put their trash on the curb,
For the garbage men to pick up the next day.
What I have done personally,
Is to show them how to put their trash...
In garbage bags FIRST.
And even though it has been slow for them to catch on,
The rest of the neighbors and myself...
Have agreed to meet the new residents,
In their backyard after midnight behind a closed and locked fence...
When all of the kids have been safely tied to their beds.
Allowing us to clear our heads and live together in peace.
'And you say you have a prescription for this? '
~I begged my doctor to find a medical need.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Returning Back To Basics
How can anyone surrounded by decadence,
Be expected to be innocent of anything?
And how old can one's pretentions get,
Before they too begin to smell like curbed garbage?
Especially when fresh resolutions have just been made,
By those insisting they are going to simplify their lives...
With a returning back to basics.
As soon as those 'basics' are decided to identify.
And they don't interfere with things chosen that are liked.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Pretend
(words & music by flett - fletcher)
Just pretend, Im holding you
And whispering things soft and low
And think of me, how its gonna be,
Just pretend I didnt go
When I walked away, I heard you say
If you need me, you know what to do
I knew it then, Id be back again
Just pretend Im right there with you
And Ill come flying to you, oh yes
All the crying is true
Oh, I will hold you and love you again
But until then, well just pretend
Oh, its funny but I cant recall the things
We said or why youre crying
But now I know it was wrong to go
I belong here by your side
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trash and Treasure
So different we are in so many a way
That, every body knows I do not have to say
In case you do not know, here I will cite a few
See how luckless we are and fortunate are you
At times you do not eat, just for the lack of mood
Desirability of food in the table
Decides if you will eat or the meal just ignore
Often we do not eat, because of lack of food
Availability of food in the table
Determines if ever we eat or not at all
Sometimes your kind of food strays to our larder
Not via the grocer, a courier or waiter
But via garbage dump we rake painstakingly
For food and anything of value there might be
And when you go shopping In a department store
You choose the clothes you wear by the size or color
By the brand or trade mark, It must be signature
To us size and color matter not anymore
We cannot be choosy or be meticulous
Whatever comes our way, make do, accept we should
For these things come to us via similar route
Which is the garbage dump, we do not have a choice
And the roof that we have Inches above our heads
Are materials you throw away, considered waste
After your palaces and villas you have built
Your trash are wealth for us, possessions we cherish
Author's Note: In third-world countries, many people depend on garbage cans and garbage dumps for their subsistence. This poem is about them.
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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Easter Scene
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windowsof the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Twelve
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windows of the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Visitor Amongst The Unconscious
Maybe I am a bit more cynical.
With the same craving...
To taste forbidden truth.
On some days,
Yes...
That is exactly what it is I do.
I admit my insights,
Can be rather biting.
But I am not on a mission,
To identify pretentions.
There is nothing mysterious,
About them to be pursued.
They are all over the place!
Like...
Denial.
Decadence.
Thoughtle ssness and disrespect.
'Hey buddy?
Yeah you.
Watch your step!
There is a child in diapers,
Following you.
Don't you hear him calling you 'daddy' too? '
I marvel at the way,
Folks skip with a leap over reality.
To embrace with a welcoming,
Any sign of deceit that is greeted warmly.
With an ignoring of those hungry and homeless,
Surrounding them on the streets.
As if this pasttime entertains,
To become remembered as a bitterness...
Eventually endeared as sweet.
And pretend,
Most do...
As if this is part of the scenery.
I admit my insights,
Can be rather biting.
But I am not on a mission,
To identify pretentions.
There is nothing mysterious,
About them to be pursued.
They are as common as pigeons.
Or garbage on the streets...
People accept as signs of affection!
Maybe I am a bit more cynical.
With the same craving...
To taste forbidden truth.
On some days,
That is exactly what it is I do.
And feeling very much...
A visitor amongst the unconscious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Garbage Can
Life is sometimes not as planned
What could be worse than a garbage can
For you are tossed and thrown away
just like the garbage to rot each day
Taken for granted by a ladies man
A woman is mistreated as much as she can
Love forsaken and lust Oozes out...
To put away his filth without any doubt
In the name of love this game is played
And it is defined as masquerade
The clock turns 8 and it's time to leave
The garbage is out and the man at ease
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Say It
Don't tell me
If you're leavin' in the mornin'
I don't wanna have a warnin'
If you're not here
Just take me
Please take me for the last time
'Cause baby now is not the right time
For us to be scared
Yes, I know I wasn't perfect
When we fall and cried all those nights
But the passion that we have is too strong
To give up the fight
So I need you to say it
If you really want to let me go
'Cause I don't believe you know I don't
Won't you tell me the truth?
Yes, I need you to say it
If you really want this love to end
Look me in the eye, you can't pretend
That what we have is through
Don't tell me
If there's someone else inside you
Doin' all the things that I do
'Cause I don't want to hear it
Just take me
Don't wanna feel no more resistance
So we don't have to go the distance
'Cause we're already there
Yes, I know I wasn't perfect
When I realize all those times
But the passion that we have is too strong
To give up the fight
So I need you to say it
If you really want to let me go
'Cause I don't believe you know I don't
Won't you tell me the truth?
Yes, I need you to say it
If you really want this love to end
Look me in the eye, you can't pretend
That what we have is through
So I need you to say it
If you really wanna let me go
'Cause I don't believe you know I don't
Won't you tell me the truth?
Yes, I need you to say it
If you really want this love to end
Look me in the eye, you can't pretend
That what we have is through
So I need you to say it
If you really want to let me go
Cause I don't believe you know I don't
Won't you tell me the truth
Yes, I need you to say it
If you really want this love to end
Look me in the eye, you can't pretend
That what we have is through
song performed by by Enrique Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hype and Marketing of Medocrity
They belong to that generation,
That just isn't going to get it!
They are the ones adorned in 'bling'.
Life means for them to live externally.
The surface thinkers with no depth.
Reductive reasoning...
Has not a mind within them,
Where that kind of thought process...
Has of yet not met.
They belong to 'that' generation!
The folks who have no clue as to why?
But quick to plan for the 'when' and 'where'.
AND...
How much will it cost,
To take them 'there'.
Whenever and wherever there 'is'!
That's what we have done to these 'kids'.
Disconnected from thoughtfulness.
Wanting the end result...
Without putting discipline and hard work to the test.
That's what we have done to these 'kids'.
Many now adults...
Without enough common sense between them to share.
Or time to spare...
If it does not address self gratification.
And some of 'us' STILL expect greatness?
But...
Who is there in a mindset left to know,
What the better of best is?
To identify a greatness when it has been achieved?
Who can really today say what that even means?
Since the hype and marketing of medocrity...
Has made nonsense 'high' on low self esteem!
And those uptight who scream...
Do it!
But...
For what purpose?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Precious!
the only thing
i dont know how to do...
is to pretend it doesnt matter!
to pretend that i dont care!
life is too precious to pretend,
too valuable to waste...
every moment is a gift,
every second eternal!
live! be drunk with living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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