Tongue Butcherings
I've never thought of it endearing,
To undermine someone else.
With an assassination done to defame...
Is a sickness that should not be welcomed.
But those who do this to themselves,
See this as a comradery.
And those tongue butcherings shared...
Are accustomed activities to prove they care!
It's all a sick inflicted illness taught.
And accepted by those,
Who have an absence of dignity...
That has been 'freed' of a sense of identity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Willing Victims
When one is accustomed to starting fires...
They should expect to get burned.
Eventually!
A sickness to ignite a flame that rages...
Soon will become uncontrollable.
Leaving one who glorifies in destruction...
To denounce activities,
Of another...
Who is as equally demented!
Yet,
Also given power to devour common sense.
'Spare the rod and spoil the child.'
I agree!
But these are privileged kids.
Who have been raised to gather praise,
For their craze!
And we have been willing victims,
Of their sins allowed and followed.
Assuming those who lead...
Are competent.
And not those of dormant insanity!
In other words...
Those who 'have' and acquired their positions.
May be those inflicted with sick ambitions!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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After An Illness
AFTER AN ILLNESS
After an illness
The feeling of being alright again
Is a special kind of happiness -
Gratitude and a sense of Blessing
Hope and the feeling of Beginning again-
I have been sick and troubled in my sickness for days now
How good it is to feel I can walk out into the fresh air again
poem by Shalom Freedman
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You May Never Die But That's A Lie Oct 30th,2012
Your big forthcoming problem will really be your death,
I know; I know, you haven't thought much about that yet,
And the preacher said you will go to heaven; if you are good,
But don't show your disaffection with politicians as you should.
Therefore maybe you don't need death with dignity any time soon,
Because you're a good guy - not some homeless criminal goon,
Not like poor Sue Rodriguez who was indeed very very sick,
There's no need to think about this - it might be some gimmick.
Do you think you might eventually get sick before you die?
Could it be a nice pleasant sickness before you say goodbye?
In Oregon they can have death with dignity before they go,
But not in Canada they say and this; you better get to know.
poem by James Bredin
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Resistance
Resistance
Identity lost,
Dignity ripped,
Land occupied,
Resistance inevitable,
History witnessed;
The tribe of Mahatma,
The nation of Martin,
The country of Nelson
Prevailed,
Sabers never rattled,
Bullets never fired,
Blood never shed
But,
Identity reclaimed,
Dignity restored,
Land freed,
And above all,
Peace won.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
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We Let the Illness In
At first, we both make contact
With mucus membranes,
And we let the illness in.
The fevers we may contract
Fester in our brains,
And we let the illness in.
We won't know how to react
While writhing in pain,
And we let the illness in.
Yet, such is the fate we pick,
Choosing to be sick,
And we let the illness in.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Stale and Cussed Filled Basements
There are those who had been nourished,
Based upon the looks of 'things'.
And not on quality or valued substance!
Familiar faces of those are compared to others.
Leaving deeds done ignored and undiscovered!
And as time goes by...
So comes with it the fading of 'things'!
An aging brings with it,
A change of outlook and accustomed habits!
And those who chose not to relate to 'this'...
Find the substance in their own lives,
Below an expected standard that exists.
Time does not address...
Who is or who is not,
Prepared for it to shift!
And those they thought they knew,
Go unknown to hide in shadows accepted.
And the saddest part of this revelation?
Most of them are related by blood.
In relationships gifted yet dismissed,
With an absence of kinship understood...
Or shared!
Or the caring of anyone aware of it!
No one seems to be at 'home'...
In their minds or anywhere!
And the few discovered that are?
Have never adventured into the attic.
To explore what maybe a treasure up 'there'!
Preferring to sit rusting with visions dusted...
In stale and cussed filled basements!
Expressing agitation.
And waiting to be rescued from darkened corners.
Insisting what they have chosen has not been welcomed!
With an ignorance applied that had once satisfied!
In denial!
Until sunlight comes with someone who knocks,
To crack open an unlocked door...
To expose them to one with wrinkled skin!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Intentional
No matter what may be done or said,
When that action in time takes place...
Someone will feel left out instead.
Not because of the action,
Done or said.
But how it was related when instigated.
Whoever made it fun for one,
To berate another with a blurting tongue...
The day will come,
When a similar deed is repeated.
With a singing of a song sung,
Or a tune heard hummed.
With no exit to ignore it to escape or leave,
The perpetrator remembered...
Will then be seeking empathy.
That no one with heart and soul intact,
Will care to release to relieve.
To set one free from memories.
This Earth is not flat,
It looks as if round.
And rotates on an axis,
To return to a place of origin always found.
And that is a fact when one sits to think,
Of those thoughts trapped to sit cemented...
In intentional inequities inflicted to sting and meant!
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
It is all quite intentional.
'Never accuse me again,
Of not having substance! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
'Never...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Accuse...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Me...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Again! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All I Want For Christmas
All I want for Christmas,
Is my dignity.
My dignity,
You took from me!
All I want for Christmas,
Is my dignity.
Freed from a greed,
You deceived!
'You wicked lowlife slithering leeches.'
All I want for Christmas,
Is my dignity.
My dignity,
You took from me!
All I want for Christmas,
Is my dignity.
Freed from a greed,
You deceived!
~Daddy?
Do you think that is an appropriate song for Santa?
Maybe 'Jingle Bells'?
You can do 'Jingle Bells' and I'll send 'that'
With my letter to the North Pole.
Record it over, please Daddy, please.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Will Eventually Die
Isolated independent Ottawa aristocrats up there,
Don't know or care about death with dignity anywhere,
It's not on their agenda, so please, you can't interfere,
Their bought media moguls will tell you that there's nothing to fear.
And if you are sick and going to die, they couldn't care less,
They really don't want to know because it might depress,
Your provincial health care system should look after you,
And if you are lucky enough, you just might even pull through.
But death with dignity should be an up-front national cause,
While those organized and opposed are waiting for their applause,
Are these the same folk who love abortion death clinics here and there?
And those of us who want death with dignity, don't have a prayer.
poem by James Bredin
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Shining Brighter Everyday
As long as you are 'real'
With a sense of 'self' and identity...
Don't worry about those that aren't!
They have enough problems today,
Trying to maintain what they've gained
Through false pretenses,
Shared with turned up noses!
And that for them has to be difficult...
Since the 'realities' they have lived,
Seem to be attracting more flies than honey these days!
And for you to be as genuine as you are...
You are shining brighter everyday!
Walk away.
With pride and dignity intact!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Never Accepted What Their Eyes Have Shown
Something in their heads,
Have them programmed to believe...
They should not respect themselves.
Or expect they can and could achieve.
Something missing in their heads,
Should have connected them to a maturity.
Something that recognized,
Who should be responsible...
And accountable for their activities.
Something in their minds,
Should have made eye contact with themselves.
Something said or they did not see...
A reflection of themselves yet!
One accepted and believed.
Something has left.
And will never return.
Something that should have been taught.
But for them,
Never to be learned!
And that is why they hide from themselves.
They dislike and despise what they see!
And they have never accepted,
What their eyes have shown!
They are afraid to be who they are.
Even alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So sick of it
I’m so sick of it
Making me feel like I’m sick
So sick of this
So sick of it all
When I finally got sick of it all
I just let it all out, I changed more and more
Explaining it and speaking my mind
Writing it all down on sheets of paper
Explaining why I’m so sick.
I’m so sick of it all
This world, Reality, all this bigotry
Can’t get enough of this
I can’t take it anymore I have to stand up
And fight against this sickness
Battling which is that repeating cycle
Battling Homophobia
I’ve done it so many times
It makes me wonder why I’m so sick
I’m so sick of it
Going threw the same f*cking thing.
Wanting more and more
Realizing it couldn’t ever be real it sadden me
I thought it over and over and then
That’s when I got sick of it.
Got me thinking me of it then reminding myself of reality.
It happened over and over that’s when I got sick.
Making me feel sicker.
Regretting all of the stupid thing I ignored
Remembering I gone threw the same thing before
Anticipating myself 0.99 seconds before the actual thought
I’m so sick of it, all the things that make me sick
All the things I fight against.
Im so sick of it…
poem by Marcellus Watts
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Battered From The War of Delusion
My needs.
That's what they are.
For too long,
I kept them captivated...
With an absence I ignored.
My desires were explored,
In dreams and wishes.
I allowed my needs to be evaluated.
To become incompleted!
Depleted...
To live as others believed I should.
To be there with an empathy disposed,
By others quick to display insincerety.
At my expense.
I was not expected to have sense enough.
To listen and not be heard.
To care for those thoughtless...
How I spent my days.
Whether sick or crazed.
What my feelings were did not faze them at all.
I was not suppose to show them.
Or feel them below the surface of my skin.
As if I was wrapped and packaged with pretense.
I had been connected to something,
To them made no sense.
Offended I became to an ignorance.
This had to end...
With a defending against such offensiveness.
And when I announced my needs were mine...
I could not find anyone to agree,
But me.
I declared them my priority.
As well as my life!
I was called selfish.
Knowing within me I was right!
And without a fight...
I agreed and gathered my emotions.
And I set into motion my needs.
My search for happiness ended.
I had it to give.
But so few had that to offer.
They were there to pleasure others...
As if I had no other reason to live.
But to be there for them!
And no one here for me...
To encourage and restore,
An energy seeping.
That has all been changed,
When peace of mind found me!
With needs no longer questioned to identify.
No explanations to qualify or kept denied.
They were simple and scattered all over the place.
I stopped trying to find them.
With a disgrace embraced and welcomed.
And that's when they all came back...
Intact!
Battered from the war of delusion,
That I could live without my needs being pleased!
Self absorbed?
Definitely!
Apologetic?
Only God knows how much this is deserved.
And yes...
I have the nerve to confess,
I am happy!
With no ego to prove my contentment.
Or deeds done to validate involvement to prove...
Sacrifices of commitment.
Those battles have been documented!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Baited To Fear Everything Unknown
Being perceptive is rarely accepted,
When associating with others...
More accustomed to neglecting,
Their own thought process.
To rely upon what comes to comfort.
And is easily for them to quickly access.
Sharing insight with those less connected,
Will often initiate an unwanted debate.
To prove what is perceived not yet to be seen,
Will actually take place and on a specific date.
Especially with those who are baited to fear,
Everything unknown but claim to have faith!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Boss
(nickolas ashford/valerie simpson)
Fancy me
Thought I had my degree
In life and how love
Ought to be a run
I had a one step plan to prove it
Guide in my pocket for fools
Folly and fun
Love had to show me one thing
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(taught me who was who was the boss)
Id defy
Anyone who claimed that i
Didnt control whatever moved in my soul
I could tempt
Touch delight
Just because you fell for me
Why should I feel uptight
Love had to show me one thing:
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(taught me who was who was the boss)
Love taught me
Taught me
Taught me
Taught me
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(taught me who was who was the boss)
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boss
(Nickolas Ashford/Valerie Simpson)
Fancy me
Thought I had my degree
In life and how love
Ought to be a run
I had a one step plan to prove it
Guide in my pocket for fools
Folly and fun
Love had to show me one thing
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(Taught me who was who was the boss)
I'd defy
Anyone who claimed that I
Didn't control whatever moved in my soul
I could tempt
Touch delight
Just because you fell for me
Why should I feel uptight
Love had to show me one thing:
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(Taught me who was who was the boss)
Love taught me
Taught me
Taught me
Taught me
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(Taught me who was who was the boss)
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taught To Fear And Suffer
Taught not born,
To hate.
Taught not born,
To fear.
Taught not born,
To discriminate.
And taught not born,
To jeer.
Taught not born,
To give.
Taught not born,
To take.
Taught not born to be of benefit to others.
But many bigots interfere...
With an infliction of their insecurities,
That smother one another.
Some are taught they are better than most human beings.
With a stunting of their own growth,
In isolated dreams.
And then their are those who confront others,
With obvious legitimate needs.
Ultimately to suffer from these misdeeds.
Taught not born,
To hate.
Taught not born,
To fear.
Taught not born,
To discriminate.
And taught not born,
To jeer.
Taught to greed selfishly!
Taught to deceive and steal like thieves!
And taught to cheat to succeed...
No matter who does the suffering and bleeds.
Taught to fear and suffer.
As a right,
To incite and ignite...
Fear.
As a right,
To incite and ignite...
Suffering,
Inflicted.
As a right to incite and ignite,
Fear!
Taught to fear and suffer.
As a right,
To incite and ignite...
Fear.
As a right,
To incite and ignite...
Suffering,
Inflicted.
As a right to incite and ignite,
Fear!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Welcomed Into the Family of Comprehension
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
What hand reaching out to shake,
Does not support that?
What prolonged heartbreak,
Would stay wallowing in sorrow?
To borrow an excuse,
Or a chance not to view agony?
Close up and into a tear stained face.
You should not want that reflecting...
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
No thing is detached,
That keeps an attraction from coming back.
Something is attached to that.
And seriously repeated.
When done,
The meaning of that purpose...
Should not go misunderstood!
Like selling one 'pot' who requested 'crack'.
An end should come to that.
When the mind gets that whacked out.
And chained to keep one remaining unchanged.
If it does because of ignorance declared delicious?
That can be forgiven, allowed and forgotten.
We all have had our cravings.
However...
If it does come from an intention reeking in deceit?
That can be considered a good cause,
Some some severe cussing out!
And some folks have earned their cussing out,
Those deserving it...
Rights!
And some folks can be sadistic about it!
You can not cuss them out enough!
There are a number of them to unionize.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
If it does come from an intention meant?
That can be shallow, obvious...
And an absence of common sense.
And an absence of it is more common than not!
If one ain't got it!
And an intention done lacking sense,
Wastes too much time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Upon Recommendation
They elected to become better coons.
And with their masks fixed...
For employment purposes and cocktail mixes.
To prove they were worthy and skilled,
At mastering diversed appointed tasks...
If asked and obeyed.
Sometimes against their high paid wills!
Although a dignity of identity,
Had cheapened,
With temptations that weakened!
They were still comforted in knowing,
Their subservience was awarded well...
And welcomed,
By the liking of their peers!
Who supressed their images too...
Upon recommendation!
And trained to flaunt their 'arrivals'
With the best of etiquette,
To diminish 'hints' of ghetto traces.
Then 'introduced' for acceptable appearances!
After a series of planting well placed kisses!
On butts...
Of course!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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