To Stale And Flatten
Racism tried to divide,
Apparently sliding on the downslide.
And that...
Is on the brink,
Of failure.
Corruption and deceit?
Even the ones once disbelieving...
This could not be a possibility,
Now find it as common...
As seeing 'For Sale' signs,
On every street.
And those failures?
They too are complete.
People are discovering,
Dishonesty is not the way to live.
Especially today...
When the value of their standards,
Have popped their corks.
And left their minds fizzed,
Out.
To stale and flatten.
And to leave them scattered about.
Plop, plop, fizz, fizz...
No relief comes to the times that give,
To all that sat unaccepting what is!
An implementation of their own created,
Devastation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Skids Into A Fizz
The budget?
The budget as it is,
Has skidded into a fizz.
No one chooses to say 'flop'...
Hoping that a plot is schemed,
To return smiling and gleaming grins again...
To those so close to giving up.
The budget?
The budget as it is,
Has skidded into a fizz.
With a 'don't-plop-me-down-now-thud'!
And added fuss and frustration.
The budget?
We monthy cuss that budget.
That budget...
Has us all caught up in corruptness.
And feuding over turf outsourced and sold.
Long ago.
The budget?
Skids into a fizz.
And folks with lips poked...
Still want to feel,
They can pop...
More champagne.
The budget?
Skids into a fizz.
And folks with lips poked...
Still want to feel,
They can pop...
More champagne.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey Little Lady (Interlude)
(lil Fizz)
walkin down the street with a soda can
in ma hand
hope you realise and understand
that i'm lil fizz and
i'm so so so
(laughter)
raz-b
yo fizz you see them girls over there?
lil fizz
man they slick
omarion
i wanna holla at that one
j boog
watchu waitin on
omarion
so im sayin' should i go holla
j boog
is u scared dawg
omarion
alright lemmie go lemmie go
hey little lady wats yo name
song performed by by B2K from B2K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Secrets Slipped
Blocked, clocked and watched.
Spied upon and sniffed!
Even during toilet visits...
Some are made to feel,
They are revealing secrets slipped.
With a plop that drops in a fizz.
Suspicions become more of an interest,
When done!
Than that business after conducted,
From the one that does it is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Are We Going To Blame Next?
Those liberals with their left wing,
Spend and handout point of views
With their special interest values
To be at every groups' beck and call.
Doting over 'those' people declaring
Affirmative action and quotas
Provide balances for hiring, firing
And housing needs!
'Yeah...right!
And if it wasn't for the conservatives,
With their right wing philosophies...
We might not be facing a complete
Economic devastation.
And those terrorists we've been fighting,
Enticed the corruption on Wall Street.
Well...
Who are we going to blame next?
Looks as if we've run out of deceit, alibis and excuses!
And the 'enemies' are buying up all the devalued property...
As well as providing us loans to keep up our facade.
The times aren't what they use to be,
When it was simple and easy...
To get anyone to believe our accusations.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Values and Correctness
Values and correctness,
Of one's life based on opinion
And standards of others...
May be needing updating.
Or complete overhaul.
Those standards and 'norms'
Are probably now all gone.
Since the popularity of theft and deceit,
Has increased the visions of self preservation!
With fewer wearing mink and diamonds.
And a whole lot of folks never seen before,
Sneaking into pawn shops.
More people today may say they prefer the basics.
But they will slowly admit...
This new found desire to live life that way,
Was not always a priority...
On the top of their agendas.
With signs of this shown by some,
Still clutching onto their Vitton and Gucci bags...
As evidence they had not always stood in food lines!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Given The Best Treatment
Explaining the definition of a lie,
By a liar...
Should prove to anyone who is 'familiar' with truth,
How dire...
And deceivingly unconscious these times we live are!
When one is given the time to defend a lie told...
The satisfaction of knowing the truth,
Has already been diluted.
To give one time,
To further confuse minds.
And since we live in those times,
Of total corruption and complete dishonesty...
Those of integrity,
Are dismissed as fools.
With a high degree of stupidity!
Explaining the definition of a lie,
By a liar...
Should prove to anyone who is 'familiar' with truth,
How dire...
And deceivingly unconscious these times we live are!
And they are...
Given the best treatment,
A worshipped cesspool can get!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love A Duck
Mammy duck leaves the bank,
Baby ducks follow plop plop,
Daddy duck rear guard
Safe from the predators.
Sadly the little ones are
Easy pickings for the eels,
Grow little ones grow very fast,
Then you will be too big for the eels grasp.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Failures
When failures come, oh, do not fret;
For failures, you must not regret;
Through failures, one can turn perfect,
As failure isn’t a great defect!
Each failure gives us chance again;
Through failures, we have much to gain;
So, failures are a boon, not bane;
Yes, failures make a man much sane!
All cannot win in life always;
Set-backs do come to us some days;
With failures, one makes strong a base;
Our failures bestow bolder face!
With failures come, added wisdom;
’Tis hard to hold a large kingdom;
Failures in life are much welcome,
As successes will always come.
Failures help us to love God more;
Failures are winning signs in core;
Failures can open newer door;
Failures can take us to the fore!
Which man on earth had always won?
With rain, there comes a brighter sun;
With failures, one can have much fun;
Failures aid us to faster run!
Failures can help us fare better;
Failures aren’t man’s strongest fetter;
Failures are just a trend-setter;
Failures make us a win-getter!
By failures, one can stop awhile;
Through failures, you run longer mile;
Failures do not remain life’s bile;
Failures help us finish in style!
Failures help us see truth again;
Failures remove the pride and feign;
Failures help us take newer lane;
Failures help us win in the main!
Through failures, we begin again,
And success smiles, easing out pain!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-17-2010
poem by John Celes
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B2K Is Hot (Skit)
Raz B:
yo i'm sayin' what we gonna do?
we sittin' up here all bored and everything
i mean what's crakin' 4 the night j boog?
i'm sayin' what's up
J-Boog:
I don't know but i tell u this i ain't stayin' in this house another minute
Raz B:
4 real man
Omarion:
yo i heard the skatin ring was crakin' boog
J-Boog & Raz B:
THE SKATIN' RING?
Omarion:
yeah the skatin' ring
J-Boog:
noooo see i ain't feelin' that
hey yo fizz what happen to the girl you was talkin' about?
Lil'Fizz:
oh this her right here
yeah she said its a party at her crib
J-Boog:
oh boy 4 sho
Lil'Fizz:
yeah i'm sayin' call rome tell him come scoop us up
J-Boog:
no doubt
song performed by by B2K from B2K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cold Grey Wintry Day
On this cold, gray-wintry day,
The sun is nowhere to be found.
Listen! I hear the rain:
Pit pat, pit pat—dripppppp, plop.
Pit pat, pit pat—dripppppp, plop.
Like a sad song, its music play
To the melancholy lyric of:
“A Cold, Gray Wintry Day.”
poem by Walterrean Salley
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Committed Transgressions
Ultimately they will pay.
Those, they and them alone.
Or with others condoned,
Who have committed transgressions.
With wide eyed disturbing belief,
They begin to experience the grief...
From the implementation initiated,
By incredible deceit left to leave the innocent,
Weeping.
They will ultimately pay,
For ruining these lives...
By lies told to betray.
And today...
Not tomorrow will their sorrows start.
Those in 'professions' confessed to transgress...
Will feel the piercing for them felt deep.
For unforgiveable misdeeds leaked.
To market a peace unreachable.
Although teased by an increase of weapons used.
Coming to eventually burn their minds.
As reminders of the people and the times they abused!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Oh What A Relief Appears
Ironically enough,
The ones who had criticized...
The others tiredlessly exhausting themselves,
From Sunrise until night.
For all to acknowledge and recognize,
Something done has been finally done right...
Have yet to be the ones to produce.
But instead have proven,
Their enthusiasm to critique is what they best do.
Leaving those who have had judgements upon them passed,
To live happily and distanced...
From people like this who insist they have a better prescription,
With a dropping of their actions to start...
A happiness that is!
And oh...
What a relief appears,
Without a plopping to flop to fizz.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Failure
Peoples failures always ends. A dream never ends. No matter how hard it is leave it in Gods hands. Remember people have forgetful minds. Never give up my friends. Sorrow time always mends. Your dreams keep souring on the air before. Keep on going on a dare. Its people like you who get up even though others say failure. Forget about it because someday others wont care. You shall be the one strong enough to stay there. Your courage is so rare. God is there even when other people stare. You may feel lonely but you have a friend to which no one can compare. Whe it all turns out you are not a failure. You kept on going on my dare.
There Has to Be 'Something' Left to Salvage
There has to be 'something' left to salvage.
Something with a footstep placed,
And taken towards integrity.
Something with a fingerprint on it...
That says with uncertain proof,
He even knows what that means.
Something besides lies and deceit done.
And a legacy that will state...
He saved the land from terrorists that would come.
Or came and claimed to have stunned.
There has to be 'something' left to salvage.
Something with a footstep placed,
And taken towards integrity!
He and his followers would like to see,
Him vindicated...
For making decisions that will lift his name up...
And away from the gutter from a greed satiated.
There has got to be something,
Other than corruption and smut!
Smothered and dipped in utter ignorance.
And an ending of a greatness one country 'had'..
He and incompetence has left in rags!
Since he and what he has created...
Leaves a democracy in devastation.
And one sad man who secretly grieves.
There has to be 'something' left to salvage.
Something other than a directed bitterness...
Shown with an openness.
And criticizes a failed leadership.
That would be difficult to disguise,
For those who witnessed it...
And despise.
To leave it and him unscathed.
What in the days and years ahead can be said?
Many are left sickened.
More are left dead!
And those who are wounded...
Will never know a peace to come,
In their heads!
And he will leave behind much to grieve.
Whether he belives what he did was 'just' or not!
He was not of the justice frame of mind kind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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War - 0065 - Initial Version
With world at war the waisted women pale,
drops of wasted water plop without a pail.
Civilians weep and wail while harms assail,
physicians, profiteers, have arms for sale.
(23 March 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Caribbean Night
Tropical night, starlit, if I recall rightly; there was
sliver of a golden moon also. We drank beer too,
the sea is an enormous waste bin, plop, plop.
Someone brought guitar, nights like this ought to
have music, the gentle murmour of voices stilled.
The guitar player wasn't any good, but for awhile
we sat politely listening to his pathetic attempts.
His friend got up, threw the instrument overboard.
We drank more beer, listened to our own dreams;
mine was about a guitar playing dolphin.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Large Intestine
Look in the mirror. Let us both look.
Here is my naked body.
Apparently you like it,
I have no reason to.
Who bound us, me and my body?
Why must I die
together with it?
I have the right to know where the borderline
between us is drawn.
Where am I, I, I myself.
Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines?
In the hollow of the sex? In a toe?
Apparently in the brain. I do not see it.
Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right
to see myself. Don’t laugh.
That’s macabre, you say.
It’s not me who made
my body.
I wear the used rags of my family,
an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair
after my grandmother, the nose
glued together from a few dead noses.
What do I have in common with all that?
What do I have in common with you, who like
my knee, what is my knee to me?
Surely
I would have chosen a different model.
I will leave both of you here,
my knee and you.
Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body
to play with.
And I will go.
There is no place for me here,
in this blind darkness waiting for
corruption.
I will run out, I will race
away from myself.
I will look for myself
running
like crazy
till my last breath.
One must hurry
before death comes. For by then
like a dog jerked by its chain
I will have to return
into this stridently suffering body.
To go through the last
most strident ceremony of the body.
Defeated by the body,
slowly annihilated because of the body
I will become kidney failure
or the gangrene of the large intestine.
And I will expire in shame.
And the universe will expire with me,
reduced as it is
to a kidney failure
and the gangrene of the large intestine.
poem by Anna Swirszczynska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Jamaican Guy
Take a toke from the smoke,
Never standing by the door,
Just stretching out pan de floor,
That way him dont fall over,
No way him gwan fall out pan me,
That way him wont fall over,
No way him gwan fall out pan me.
cause hes layed back, not laying back,
Layed back, not worried back,
Layed back, not thinking back,
Layed back, never holding back,
My jamaican guy, my jamaican guy.
When my dread start to sw..
Him no think if it hot nor cold,
We just come in a de riva cold,
Dat way him dont waste him wata,
No way it gwan run out pan him,
Dat way him dont waste him wata,
No way it gwan run out pan him.
cause hes layed back, not worried back,
Layed back, not thinking back,
Layed back, not laying back,
Layed back, never holding back,
My jamaican guy, my jamaican guy.
My j.a. guy.
Take my life for a drive,
Never need to change his tools,
Him drive like a stubborn mule,
Dat way him naw go plop plop,
No way gas gwan bun out pan him,
Dat way him naw go plop plop,
No way gas gwan bun out pan him.
cause hes layed back, not thinking back,
Layed back, not worried back,
Layed back, not laying back,
Layed back, never holding back,
My jamaican guy,
My j.a. guy.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stuck In Their Nonexistent Beliefs
It is difficult to leave behind,
Those whose minds are kept defined...
By times no longer here to breathe.
What keeps them fixed,
With such a stubbornness...
Has many refusing to converse with them.
And abruptly from them people leave.
To find fresh air pollution free.
Rapidly changes are amongst us to see.
To witness and adapt appropriately.
But there are those who will remain,
Stuck in their nonexistent beliefs...
That horsedrawn wagons and cobblestone streets,
Were innovations never to be replaced.
Even when shifting winds...
Show an aging upon their disbelieving faces.
With deep concerns that can be traced...
Back to those times they can not let go!
Yet argue to be heard,
Their way of life for 'certain' people...
Is more than well deserved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is Nothing Like An Awakening
People only see what they choose to see.
And at their convenience.
Even though what is seen has been there,
And observed by others for many years...
Who by now have become quite annoyed,
By those who have chosen to see with open eyes.
And all of a sudden have become advocates,
And champions...
Of 'unity'.
When at a time they did not want to know,
What was going on and could care less about it.
Since 'those' types of people created their own problems.
That's what they would say.
But today...
It has been made easier for everyone to 'see',
With minds being cleared of clouds that confuse.
And who has being doing what to whom,
Is not someone's 'vision' looking into a cystal ball.
And the value placed on denial and deceit,
Has increasingly faded the quality of life...
As well as those 'standards' upheld by those isolated,
In a narrow thought process.
There is nothing like an awakening to a truth that exists.
There is nothing like this when it happens.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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