To Quickly Review, To Quickly Dissect
There is an ease perceived in the doing,
When one's consistency is taken for granted.
There is a rush to critique,
What one dependable does to do.
As if a choice to be abused is wished.
Yet few or anyone considers one's sacrifice,
In the delivering of expectations...
To quickly review, to quickly dissect,
And...
With speed done to disapprove one's efforts.
Although an anticipation is awaiting for that one,
By those prepared...
Choosing first to dispute to then disregard,
The time it has taken to present what is there...
Detailed 'and' with caring for others to share regardless.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mixed Signals
The onslaught of truth,
Is not a perceived activity to pursue.
It is there for those aware of it!
It is there not to be abused to undo.
No need to look from the corners of your eyes,
At me or anyone else believed can be easily deceived.
The onslaught of truth,
Is not a perceived activity to pursue.
It is there for those aware of it!
It is there not to be abused to undo.
Look into a mirror.
The hour for self examination has arrived.
The results are clear.
Do not be surprised.
When one is accustomed to sending mixed signals...
The consistency of this,
Achieves results that are the quickest.
And one should come to grips with it.
Inconsistency begets distrust.
And any signs of loyalty disconnects quickly...
As if rushed.
To dissipate from expectations.
With debates of this then hushed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prepared
If I took a topic and expounded upon it,
With a research that has been detailed...
Why would anyone become offended,
If what I had chosen to discuss...
Was intended to eliminate distrust,
And the corrupted misuse...
Of someone's honesty clearly abused,
With a trampling on it as if an obligation.
'We are only here to make a choice,
From those submitted topics.
You have come too well prepared...
With a doing that is detailed.
And frankly,
We have never been ready for that.
And the act of what you have done,
Can and does offend.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Procrastination Becomes A Worn Out Vice
There comes a time in everyone's life,
When procrastination becomes a worn out vice...
To depend on to conveniently use,
By those choosing to remain undecisive.
With every excuse to make to delay what is wished.
And aging has a lot to do with this.
Since a 'sunrise' taken for granted...
Seems to speed quicker towards the 'sunset'.
With a caring less who is left to procrastinate,
In a self indulging mental state of regret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How to Do what Has Been Done Even Better
The achieving,
With a delivery done...
To another,
Of their expectations received.
Only increases the level,
To heighten...
Something else more demanding,
That is wished.
And 'if' disappointment,
To the one who receives and gets comes...
Because that one accustomed to giving,
Has no time to fulfill demands on command...
As if a magic wand is in one's hands,
Those who have become spoiled...
Are quick to soil one's reputation.
Without hesitation.
And...
Just as easy as those who believe...
Deeds done by a 'doer',
Is nothing more than picking what is wished...
Out of a hat!
With a rabbit or a cat.
And perhaps a few flying doves...
As an added surprise to delight and satisfy,
Those sitting with nothing else to give,
But critique and suggestions...
On how to do what has been done,
Even better.
The achieving,
With a delivery done...
To another,
Of their expectations received.
Only increases the level,
To heighten...
Something else more demanding,
That is wished.
With a showing of a caring less,
Quick to be expressed from their lips.
'You've ALREADY done 'that'!
I've seen it.
How about you doing 'this'?
With a doing of it...
As if you mean for 'me',
To be impressed.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Once Done Never Repeats
That first touch of sweet heat,
Underneath quickly prepared fitted sheets.
An expectation to meet,
With anticipation.
And exciting youthful triggered trembles,
To tingle fresh juices uniting to mingle.
Seems not long ago,
When the bursting of sighs...
Adjoined sweating thighs.
And lips nibbled and butts squeezed...
Quickening to a climax,
With an orgasm pleased!
Two uniting and panting...
Feeling complete and dripping wet.
That first touch of sweet heat,
Once done never repeats!
With squeaky squeals...
And clinched teeth?
No!
Not the way it was introduced,
To seduce and treat!
Those were the sweep me off my feet,
And frisk me naked years!
That first touch of sweet heat,
Underneath quickly prepared fitted sheets.
An expectation to meet,
With anticipation?
Now seems with time to await a bit longer...
For an arrival to reach its destination!
And after what comes to satisfy the visit,
It takes a while to realize what was done!
If anything.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Dust Up
As a learning experience,
It is much more difficult...
To expect anyone to listen,
Than it is to teach them...
The difference between how and why,
A listening done will affect their time.
And the taking of it for granted...
Is something no one should do.
And one's expectations that the wasting of it,
Is going to gain empathy...
From those who had patience to sit with a listening,
No matter how bored one gets going through the process...
Is going to prevent a slipping of time,
To rush through their fingers.
With opportunities set aside waiting for anyone's decision,
To be made and done with a seletive picking to come.
Once an aging process starts and is noticed,
There is no playing of hide and seek with it...
To disregard those believing they have hidden in safe places.
Since in most cases everyone will be found.
Either forgotten to eventually dismiss.
Or stored away on top awaiting somewhere,
To be lowered into the ground...
With eyes and ears shut to dust up...that's it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Most Dependable
Those most dependable,
Are not the ones we show...
A giving of respect.
They're often people we neglect.
Those most dependable,
Are not the ones we show...
A giving of respect.
They're often people we neglect.
We take for granted when we panic,
Those who'll fix our needs.
And when they've finished doing that,
We don't show them we're pleased.
Those most dependable,
Are not the ones we show...
A giving of respect.
They're often people we neglect.
And on them we're dependent,
But we choose them to offend.
We think of them to think of us,
When daylight comes until it ends.
Those most dependable,
Are not the ones we show...
A giving of respect.
They're often people we neglect.
We take for granted when we panic,
Those who'll fix our needs.
And when they've finished doing that,
We don't show them we're pleased.
The most dependable...
Are often people we neglect.
The most dependable...
Are often people we neglect.
The most dependable...
Are often those we disrespect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Can't Get a Night of Peaceful Sleep
Isn't it much easier,
To sit back and critique?
Than it is,
To have your neck on the chopping block...
And your name going defenseless,
On the streets?
To be tossed about,
Like hair dropping out.
From an ill fitted weave.
And flying through the air,
With the greatest of ease.
Without anyone to retrieve it,
In the free flowing breeze.
Isn't it fun to enjoy with everyone...
Picking on people behind their backs.
And when in public they are seen...
You snub them when they speak.
Knowing there is no reason,
For you to be that mean.
And when adverse reactions,
Come to confront you.
Isn't it wonderful to know,
Those who choose to do it...
Were friends you knew who screwed you too.
In ways you reminisce...
You made a choice to do this.
But now a forgiveness wished,
That your feelings could be spared.
But no one is there,
To show a caring that is shared.
Isn't it much easier,
To sit back and critique?
Than it is,
To have your neck on the chopping block...
And your name going defenseless,
On the streets?
And no one is concerned,
Your lessons have been learned.
Leaving you to toss and turn...
From nights spent trying to get some sleep!
Haunted by those memories,
Of how you hurt innocent people so deep.
And you're left alone to moan.
To do your boo hooing on your own.
With an empathy felt,
That attracts no help...
To come soon to relieve.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seeking To Speed Up A Way
When women begin to commit acts,
Of armed robbery...
Breast feeding and baking cookies,
Or standing over a sink...
Filled with unwashed dishes,
Is something not likely to be on their minds.
Unless...
They are seeking to speed up a way that finds,
Payment quickly for new appliances that are quickly delivered.
Enabling them to do those chores...
To keep up with the neighbors living next door!
Who knows what the time of the month does to some folks?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Boo Hoo Franchise Enterprise
I too had suffered bouts
Of languishing insecurities.
I did not resist to pick upon the weakest link.
Someone who would smother me with sympathy...
And in it I would sink.
I would carry my tears around,
As I quickly blinked my eyes to produce more.
Believing I could and would allow them to pour.
I was a boo hoo servant.
Delivering despair.
A boo hoo pity party giver.
Celebrating my suffering...
Freely delivering it everywhere.
Until I saw my reflection upon so many faces.
It scared me to realize the ugliness I had graced.
A boo hoo doing mogul? No...
I then chose not to be!
Too many were out there selling that with flair.
And my boo hoo franchise enterprise...
Was not personalized as I had thought it to be!
An audience was gone.
For me...
No one had cared!
A traumatic awakening occurred.
Glared at me and stared.
So many were already marketing that.
And my efforts weren't getting me anywhere.
What I was bringing...
Had already been sought and bought!
With agony I stopped it!
The competition was too much to bare!
'Okay...
Stop it! I'm embarrassed!
I get the point! '
Discovering that happiness to share...
Was what people wanted.
And 'that' I knew was rare.
I did not see that anywhere.
Now I am on a mission to spread just joy!
Hoping that becomes desirous and declared.
My boo hoo doing days are done.
However...
Marketing happiness,
Is much more work than fun!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXII: Well Prepared
It’s not because a paranoia
It’s not because too cautious
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because a behavior
It’s not because a ritual
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because a genius
It’s not because a clairvoyant
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because detailed analysis
It’s not because calculative plan
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because great strategy
It’s not because flexible mind
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because fantastic budget
It’s not because faithful skill
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because full concentration
It’s not because amateur luck
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because long experience
It’s not because under pressure creativity
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because improved condition
It’s not because natural selection
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because the way of destiny
It’s not because the welcome opportunity
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because calmness
It’s not because maturity
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because success experiment
It’s not because perfect system
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because evil prediction
It’s not because love attention
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because reliable power
It’s not because easy adaptation
It’s just well prepared
It’s not because giving in
It’s not because believing
It’s just well prepared
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Relaxing
All year you wait for your holidays
and when they finally arrive,
time steals them so quickly
you wonder where they’ve gone.
The two weeks disappear as quickly
as you can snap your fingers.
At the beginning of your holiday,
you have so much to pack in.
You rush around here and there.
It is harder than being at work,
this trying to have some fun.
Yet we are relaxing we say,
running around in circles everyday.
At the end of the two weeks,
we are exhausted by all our fun
and look forward to work
and slowing down a pace.
That may sound crazy,
but that is exactly what we do.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Love Comes Quickly
Sooner or later, this happens to everyone
To everyone
You can live your life lonely
Heavy as stone
Live your life learning
And working alone
Say this is all you want
But I dont believe that its true
cause when you least expect it
Waiting round the corner for you
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
You can live a life of luxury
If thats what you want
Taste forbidden pleasures
Whatever you want
You can fly away to the end of the world
But where does it get you to?
cause just when you least expect it
Just what you least expect
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
I know it sounds ridiculous, but speaking from experience
It may seem romantic, and thats no defense
Love will always get to you
Sooner or later, sooner or later, this happens to everyone
To everyone
You can fly away to the end of the world
But where does it get you?
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
(oooh)
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
Love comes quickly, whatever you do
You cant stop falling (ooh ooh)
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Freedom Of Choice
There are many who are forced,
To do those things they dislike.
And many who experience...
The act of sacrifice.
There are many amongst the few,
Who do not have options...
To choose like others do.
With a refusing that which is not wished.
And it seems those without choices,
To experience what they 'must' go through...
Are those who become challenged,
By the ones who live lives limited and confused.
And...
Those who belabor in their sacrifices done.
Often are the ones spending very little time,
Wondering what it is that is liked or disliked.
Or those reasons why.
Since a freedom of choice to them eventually comes,
With a presentation acknowledging their efforts made.
For a job that has been chosen,
As the one well done deserving.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Thoughtless Are We
Easily God is with us to please.
Caring that our needs are met.
With those dreams wished delivered...
To get and quickly forget,
How to us they came.
Like the rain does not replenish.
Or nourishes to sustain.
Easily God is there to forgive,
Those who maintain a faith.
Although allowing all,
To run into walls and make mistakes.
God understands this!
God knows what is in His or Her power,
To create.
For purposes to celebrate.
Hoping to correct,
Our reasons to hate.
But we seem so unconscious,
Of this miracle of life we have.
So thoughtless are we,
We actually believe...
God is a figment of our fantasies.
We seem so unconscious,
Of Mother Nature and of Earth.
As if 'scientists' made the Moon, Stars and Sun.
And they've proclaimed our lives the center of it.
As if our lives here on Earth...
Are the only ones lived,
In this 'massive' Universe.
Where needs to feed,
Understandings with a thirst.
With some isolated to debate their fates.
Wanting to be,
The only ones who are chosen to be 'first'.
Not only are our minds blinded...
But our eyes deceive,
Just to tease these selfish greeds.
Easily God is with us to please.
Caring that our needs are met.
With those dreams wished delivered...
To get and quickly forget,
How to us they came.
Like the rain does not replenish.
Or nourishes to sustain.
Easily God is there to forgive,
Those who maintain a faith.
But make mistakes.
God understands this!
God knows what is in His or Her power,
To create.
God gives.
And only from us God can take!
So much.
And yet...
Surprise us with much more.
If we accept and appreciate,
Why we are here.
And 'WHO' and 'WHAT' IT is,
Our lives are lived here for!
'Place no other gods before ME!
That's ALL I ask!
How difficult 'is' that task? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That I Did Not Say
If you 'were' to select,
Someone to which your abilities were compared...
To be critiqued.
Whom would you pick?
'Hmmm...
Let's see.
I would probably pick someone who believed,
Their best was to achieve mediocrity.'
But suppose their efforts were championed.
And the greater of your efforts were deemed to be less.
Wouldn't that bother you?
Wouldn't you be upset?
'Why should I be bothered?
My mind is not one of a critic.
And I spend no time deciding 'whom' to crtique.'
So you think nothing of your accomplishments.
Nor of your notoriety.
'THAT I did not say.
My devotion, commitment and sacrifice,
Consistency with persistence and longevity...
Should speak for itself.'
Then you are familiar with being criticized?
'Oh yes.
Definitely.
But I've been working on my low tolerance,
When showing I am getting annoyed.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Was a Time Cream Rose to the Top
There was a time cream rose to the top,
With expectations.
Today the appearance of BS is there.
Lots of it!
Disappointing patience.
And most of it sitting unappreciated,
By those choosing to ignore imitations.
Preferring in anticipation...
Something that identifies quality and taste.
And that may be a very long wait.
Especially for those who know the difference,
Between scratched and boxed cake.
And what it takes to bake it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Much Has Been Revealed
A renewal of beliefs to review to meet,
Ingredients now fed to eat is much needed.
An obscruity of that which had been valued,
Blocks steps on paved roads now used today.
Updating of standards is more specific than wished.
Too much has been revealed.
Too much has been revealed.
What was 'then' thought and taught as reality,
Has come to cast shadows on that which had existed.
Too much has been revealed.
Overwhelmed are those attempting to restrict themselves,
To lives lived in limitations.
Too much has been revealed.
A transformation is in progress.
And will not cease by those wishing with ease...
To have it swept away in defeat to critique it with ratings.
To place its significance with a label that stays.
Too much...
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I realized how quickly you could eat up a lot of time and money if you weren't prepared.
quote by Jim Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunrise And Sunset Pleases
Everyday comes,
To give all opportunity...
And a chance to appreciate,
What that day offers and brings.
Perhaps it is with the ease of it,
That we take life for granted.
And the existence of this gift given,
Is rarely looked upon or accepted by many...
For its seriousness,
Quickly dismissed.
Until it is realized there is no permanence.
And a missing of those we shared our lives with,
Becomes reminisced,
With wishes to see them again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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