Too Many Have Suppressed Their Depressions
Too many have suppressed their depressions.
And had shied away from expressing they are upset.
Protesters seem to be doing their best,
To be civilized with the hiding of their regrets.
With a wish they had not let themselves,
Gather into the streets to protest a greed.
When those homeless and needing to eat,
And a place to sleep...
Should have long ago sent warnings,
How those who are obviously in need...
Could be easily ignored by those who continue,
To feast as if nothing else is noticed.
Too many have suppressed their depressions.
And no longer shy away from expressing they are upset.
Protesters seem to be doing their best,
To be civilized with the hiding of their regrets...
With a wish they had not let themselves,
Gather into the streets to protest a greed.
Believing themselves to be right.
Because they are mostly...
Well,
Fighters for fading entitlements...
That are being erased from their eyesights.
And if this was not happening to them at all,
It would be poverty as usual...
For 'those' people to experience.
You know...
The ones too lazy to get a job.
Or find a decent wage to feed themselves and families.
Under a roof they can afford.
You know...
'Those' people who had never been accepted,
By the whims of 'them' with their selected druthers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Defying A Protest Response Egyptian Curfew
Mubarak called for stability
but this late political appeal
appeared to cut rigid little no ice
with inflamed reform protesters
who surged onto Egyptian streets
immediately as Mubarak finished
speaking defying a protest response
curfew as other hard line protesters
who had earlier been pressure forced
into nearby side streets by military
could be heard chanting 'People
want to change the regime'
immediately after Mubarak's
broadcast to the nation finished
daring defiance foretells regime end
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Was Given Away
What was given away,
Is now desired back.
And those who now posess what was given...
Can not be blamed for laughing at that.
And those who are making demands,
On borrowed time and funds...
Protest amongst themselves,
With regrets that upset...
That one freshly elected,
Is the culprit that did this to everyone.
As if their greed did not exist.
And the one who sits high in leadership,
Intentionally knew before he arrived...
He was expected to keep their fantasies alive.
With a keeping of a sparkling credit history,
Unaffected as the people continued to feed...
Owing those now closing their pockets.
Who question...
Not anyone's ability to label themselves 'great'.
But payments that are due, unpaid or even coming in late.
And yet,
Requests still pour in to those that lend...
To cover what to them,
Was not a gift to dismiss but a loan.
And...
Alone and distanced,
Are those attempting to infuse in the proceedings...
Any remnants of common sense.
Since it seems,
As though the greeding of those who feed,
Have long been detached from it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Egyptian Martyrs' Blood Peace Protest Spilt
medical sources
said
at least
five protesters
had
been killed
1,030 wounded
like battered leaves
littered streets
in bloodstained
Cairo protest defiant
thirteen were killed
in Suez six in Alexandria
a teenager was shot
dead in Port Said
al-Jazeera reported
martyrs' blood peace protest
spilt to dislodge a tyrant
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Hidden Poverty
In a Nation of many well off people they call it hidden poverty
The poor souls of the back streets that the wealthy never see
They live in condemned houses that are clearly in decay
And out of sight is out of mind or so 'twould seem that way.
In a Nation of many millionaires many live in a tent
People forced to become Homeless when their landlord on them raised their rent
The greed of the wealthy leads to homelessness and the numbers of the homeless multiply
The only roof that some know is the polluted Urban sky.
The Land of opportunity many have been known to say
Those who feel that all is rosy they themselves are doing okay
So many do grow poorer for every new millionaire
That is life some will tell you but life's not always fair.
In a Nation of many millionaires hidden poverty abound
And in the back streets of the City people sleep on the bare ground
Crudely referred to by some as losers and it seems sad to recall
That there was never such a thing as a 'fair go for all'.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mubarak’s Television Speech Orders Coded Tahrir Square Attack
After ordering teargas, rubber bullets, baton charges
after secret police beat isolated protesters with iron bars
demonstrators continue to vent their righteous fury
fueled by repression, poverty, unemployment, corruption.
President Mubarak making public appearance on state
pose television said “It is not by setting fire and by
attacking private and public property that we achieve
the aspirations of Egypt and its sons but they will be
achieved through dialogue, awareness and effort.”
True protesters rejected your tactics adopted peaceful protest.
poem by Terence George Craddock (29 January 2011)
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Hmph...People
Leave me alone.
'Okay,
I will.'
I'm not talking to you.
'I see.
Then...
Who ARE you talking to? '
No one in particular.
It has been a while since I've said it.
And it is refreshing to know,
You weren't offended at all.
I remember the days,
My saying that would upset you.
'Why should I feel offended?
Or upset.
I was hoping you weren't going to ask me,
Where I am going? '
What?
Where are you going?
'That's none of your business.
And I'm hoping that doesn't offend.
Now you can practice not getting upset.'
Upset?
Why should I get upset?
You're trying to get me upset.
And I'm not a child.
You can do whatever you want.
Who cares?
I don't.
Upset?
Why should I get upset?
You're trying to get me upset.
You can do whatever you want.
Who cares?
I don't.
And what are you laughing about?
'I was only teasing.
I'm not going anywhere.'
Oh yes you are!
You're going to leave me alone.
'Okay,
I will.'
People!
They will do anything to get on your nerves.
Upset?
As if I was that easily provoked!
Hmph...people!
'I heard that.'
Who cares!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enactments
Now that their feelings of betrayal...
And being disgruntled,
Have a rawness about it...
They believe there is a commonness,
Left to express those displeasures...
With those historically distressed.
Those they would normally regard as pests!
And that was just...
Yesterday!
With their duress confessed,
During these suppressed times...
They seem to quickly display,
A discomforting selfishness...
They wish would go away,
To unwind and leave behind.
Like keys left with the butler or maid.
If not for temporary and sentimental reasons!
When the times were good for them...
They would not be seen,
Appearing in daylight...
With 'those' disadvantaged on urban streets.
Exposing their faces on such scenes.
And rubbing shoulders,
With these 'underlings' they meet!
'These surroundings?
How gouache.
Tasteless.
And so unbecoming! '
They would have ignored them,
As not being among those blessed!
They would have compared their separateness...
By comparing acquired materialism,
That kept them feeling falsely blessed.
But somehow their current fellowship expressed,
Seems more like a pretentiousness hiding a desperation.
And spreading a shallow attempt,
To solicit empathy from those who can least afford it.
Those who know who 'they' are!
And why they have been kept by 'them' suppressed.
Those things they once had,
No longer provides the escape...
From their insecurities now exposed.
So they have 'chosen' to be amongst the poor.
To uplift a hollowness...
Left from a loneliness of an emptiness felt.
Somehow,
This can not be easily erased.
Or from them now to go ignored.
Or replaced...
As one awaits for delivered luggage,
To leave quickly a bad vacation.
Especially when faces of a different hue...
Reminds them of a racistness they inflicted,
And kept in place to subdue...
In brutal disrespect.
Who knew these times would be so stinging.
Leaving so many unprepared?
To unpack cares and fresh hints of concern.
Now 'they' appear as if in research...
Seeking a way to find a comfort.
One that is not as demeaning as seen,
Or vividly portrayed...
By those who seem professional,
Recreating enactments placed upon them...
To do that poverty 'thing'
Done so well!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Appreciate Their Teachings
Many today are discovering,
The ease their introduction to poverty has become.
Some of us already experienced with its effects,
Thought of poverty as a prerequisite to upper mobility.
When people of a 'certain' class were living,
Right across the street.
Just before the terms minority and ghetto were popularized.
And poverty was 'NOT' a fast fall from greed.
We seemed to have never qualified for anything back then.
But sympathetic looks and eyes cast down...
From those with turned up noses.
That was a long yesterday ago though.
But today,
Greed has become the 'boss'.
People have falsified qualifiers,
Just based on them knowing how to use a pen.
To sign documents eventually forged to approve a loan.
I couldn't make this up if I wanted to.
Too much of this is factual.
And people are up in arms,
About a downward credit rating...
That puts a smudge on their pretentions.
And that hole they have dugged deep...
Will take a hundred years to plug.
Many today are discovering,
The ease their introduction to poverty has become.
Some of us already experienced with its effects,
Thought of poverty as a prerequisite to upper mobility.
And not a fast fall from greed.
We seemed to have never qualified for anything back then.
I remember those who now crawl on their knees,
Use to say to my family and me...
Back in the day of our struggles,
How unfortunate 'we' were with their sarcasms.
Today I look at 'these' people and purposely buy a can of beans,
With a slowing of an opening done...
To then eat the beans in their honor.
Expressing a blessed thankfulness for having people like 'them'...
To realize how much I appreciate their teachings.
Maybe they will...
'Get off their lazy ignorant butts and find a job.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Injustice Here
Some place far from here
A baby is crying
A child is hungry
A mother is dying
Some place far from here
A family is in need
Adults cannot read
Children capture
Never again to be seen
Some place far from here
There’s no drinking water
Someone’s lost their daughter
Some place from here
People are homeless and alone
Without light and are cold
They sleep on dirt roads
With only their skin and their bones
Some place from here
There are so many things
So much injustice happening
Lots of poverty
Lots of death
But we forget
That right in our country
We have all these things too
We worry about a place far, far from here
And don’t take care of our priorities here
What about the poverty that covers our streets
Or children that are dying with no food to eat
The people in our country are suffering too
So although helping somewhere else
Is what we should do
There are obligations here first to pursue
We’re a great country
We have always been
But to continue this legacy
This is where we begin
poem by Jessica Collazo
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Protest With Those Protesting
Don't get erratic
Like the people in the streets.
I say emphatically...
Help them protest
A lack of quality!
You chased the 'bling' of things.
Titles and socialites,
And what you thought a good life brings.
You laughed at me.
Because I had my hands in toilets,
And cleaning sinks.
But I owned what I did.
And learned from invested time in it!
What did you learn?
How to pick up a pink slip...
Smile and be replaced!
Don't get erratic
Like the people in the streets.
I say emphatically...
Help them protest
A lack of quality!
I can think of no one better,
Than you.
How best to discuss,
A digust with a life you knew!
I can think of no one better,
Than you.
To protest with those protesting,
How they assisted themselves
In being screwed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With No Regrets That Can Take My Breath
Oh...
I am a fighter!
With a decision made long ago,
How it was I will live my life.
On my terms.
Knowing I would have to sacrifice.
I have had no doubts about it.
And will do what I feel is right,
For me.
With a living of my life to be,
My own.
I've turned away from those things I can't use.
I've turned away those things I refuse.
I've turned away from everyday headaches.
I've turned away from anything petty,
To get me fed up and upset.
I've turned away from anything petty.
I've turned away from everyday headaches.
I've turned away those things I refuse.
I've turned away from those things I can't use.
Oh...
I am a fighter!
And will do what I feel is right,
For me.
I've turned away from anything petty.
I've turned away from everyday headaches.
I've turned away those things I refuse.
I've turned away from those things I can't use,
To get me fed up and upset.
Oh...
I am a fighter!
And refuse to be fed up and upset!
Oh I know that I am fighter.
And refuse to be fed up and upset!
I refuse to be fed up and upset,
With regrets that can take my breath.
Oh I know that I am a fighter.
With no regrets that can take my breath,
Away.
With no regrets that can take my breath.
With no regrets that can take my breath,
Away.
With no regrets that can take my breath.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Other Ones Will Never Get It Right
There are those who are not religious zealots,
Of moralistic stances.
To allow the grass to be trashed.
And walk past it.
Nor are they responsible,
For garbage tossed on concrete city streets.
Where steeples rise where those inside,
Pray and claim to hear God to them speak.
Many can be found observing the insanity,
Excused and ignored.
Perhaps by some adored!
As a consciousness like this seems sick.
And can not be accepted,
By those who chase this havoc away.
To prevent it at their doorsteps.
And like them,
I too could care less...
About what others do without a word of protest.
And if some find a decline is worthy of praise...
Why should they get upset,
That a few refuse to digest this mess.
Like the endorsements of relationships enforced...
When clearly a divorce from these situations diseased,
Has been the choice that has been sought!
'Will those with minds of clarity...
No need to get uptight!
Continue to do what it is that is done.
The other ones will never get it right! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mubarak Speaks Four Days Late
Mubarak accused protesters of abusing freedoms
which he the feared oppressor had given citizens.
Mubarak refused to step down leave town gallantly
too late too late Mubarak promises to promote democracy.
Mubarak Mubarak should already long long be gone
the wounded the dead protesters cannot all be wrong.
What will Mubarak give protesters teargas rubber bullets?
Stones are speaking out in poverty need with empty wallets.
Contrast beloved King Abdullah II of Jordan ordered Jordan’s
police to hand out water and orange juice to thirsty protesters.
Which would you vote for? Which give a no confidence vote?
King Abdullah urged senators officials, to be in constant contact
with people in all provinces, to hear their grievances, to hear their
ambitions, their interests in frank dialogue. Wise King Abdullah.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Cyclic Are the Meager Years Nearing
Cyclic are the meager years nearing,
To appear and experience...
For many unfamiliar,
With being denied to feed when they wish.
As those who were witnessed,
Going through this period...
Had been quickly dismissed as disposable.
But these grotesque images made to be depicted,
Had been intended to frame those suppressed.
And not be lived by those who now protest,
The reality of their own creation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Not That Truth Is Disrespected
It is not that truth is disrespected.
It was never introduced.
It is those deceptions that are believed.
And the people are upset,
By what they have accepted...
That continues to change!
And they protest,
To have the original deceptions...
As remembered and kept,
They grew to trust...
To be returned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People and things do not upset us, rather we upset ourselves by believing that they can upset us.
quote by Albert Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Lessons Are More Effective
Attempts were made to contact you!
Long before your present concerns became fashionable.
Long before your way of life,
Came crashing down to Earth.
Those things now happening to you...
Happened to others first.
Remember those homeless and hungry,
Expressing human needs?
You do recall expressing this statement...
'If they don't like it here,
Why don't they leave! '
You remember being given authority,
To select those for work...
And you chose those of 'quality'.
You remember being given government grants?
And choosing friends and family members,
To take the funds to fill up pocketbooks...
And their already bulging pants!
You remember representing yourself,
As a part of the community?
Only to express that when it was advantageous,
To take what you wanted.
Then you would leave.
Remember voices saying you should train the folks...
And sharing that,
A prosperity would grow?
But you let greed feed your selfishness!
That is why no one cares that you now suffer.
Or that you have no where to go!
And you feel offended with your defensiveness.
Some lessons are more effective...
If they are felt!
Like a beating received one gives oneself,
Before one can say they truly 'know'!
'Who learns more from their experiences?
Crabs on the bottom?
Those in the middle?
Or the ones on top? '
They are all in the same barrel...
So that process stops!
'Precisely! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Regrets
for writing
what really happened
on that day
and expressing
what really was felt
and when you read it
and laughed
not believing any word
from me
i have no
regrets.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unfortunate is This Reality
Disliking the truth,
Does not stop it from happening.
Or an experience of it,
Can not and could not
Be erased from one's mind.
Those who know truth,
Are not easily persuaded.
Or told they have been mislead.
There is a difference between truth,
And a dishonesty being fed to one's head.
Many don't see this,
And continue to believe
Whatever they decide,
Will be a truth they create for others to feed.
And unfortunate is this reality.
Disliking the truth,
Does not stop it from happening.
Or an experience of it,
Can not and could not
Be erased from one's mind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let's Get Real About Concepts
It is not supply and demand!
It's about selectivity and choice.
When one can afford to make demands,
And has influence over others...
With a perception they can feed a need,
Their choices selected become the priority.
And usually those standing in lines whining,
Are the least to have their priorities demanded.
Let's get real about concepts of greed and selfishness.
Those who are able to feed their greed and are selfish,
Could care less about those...
From whom they have stolen the goods.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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