Too Proud Of It I Have Been
It was never discouraging to me,
When at a time I had been accused...
Of not having an identity.
And I was breaking down barriers,
Blocked and barricaded...
By those who 'still' do not understand,
The purpose and extent of my creativity.
I do not exist to represent a cause or a group.
To spin circles around insecurities some pursue.
I am here to challenge those who make excuses,
For themselves to use.
And...
To state my talents are not ethnic based.
With limitations others may be accustomed to,
That allows them to continue their own self hate.
Seeking to be accepted and approved...
Has never been the shoes I walked comfortably in.
I remember being told I was not 'black'.
Because I dared to cross assorted boundaries...
At a time judgemental 'blacks' were uncomfortable to do that.
And sat unadventured around and behind walls,
Closing in upon their backs.
I remember being told I had 'sold out'!
By the very same folks...
Who today prance and dance about,
In places they once pointed me out as not being 'Afrocentric'.
And they wonder why more people like them,
Are not going to those places with a paying of their visits.
Only to arrive to announce their indifference.
Not to learn.
Not to accept.
But to reject,
The experience.
It was never discouraging to me,
When at a time I had been accused...
Of not having an identity.
Because I've always knew who it 'is' I am.
And for sixty-four years I've never tried to hide that fact.
Too proud of it I have been.
And comfortable in my skin.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Defending My Right To Exist
Defending my right to exist...
Didn't leave too much time,
To feel insecurities.
Or get emotional about them.
I was always reminded that I wasn't who I was!
I looked like so and so,
And spoke like someone else.
And living in a place where nicknames were preferred,
It was rather difficult to maintain an identity.
Since being clownish and down to Earth,
Was a lesson taught.
And to be ignorant was the main objective.
Few people dared to express knowledge of anything.
Hey,
What can I say?
Even today...
This is not an exaggeration.
Needless to say,
Folks still living in that same mindset...
Seem not to be able to understand,
Why their visits to jails and prisons...
Are more frequent and have more of a priority,
Than when their 'children' were misbehaving in schools.
And teachers are blamed for this?
Defending my right to exist,
Didn't leave too much time,
To feel insecurities.
Or get emotional about them.
I was always reminded that I wasn't who I was!
However...
I was told I 'thought' I was better than everyone else,
Because I spoke as if I was 'intelligent'.
You know,
Clear and not like a...well...
Bunny rabbit!
And I had more than being a 'bad' little boy,
With going to jail on my mind.
I wanted to have my own identity for some reason.
With a wish to be successful at whatever I chose to do!
And there are those who try to convince others,
My accomplishments do not mean a thing!
And to them,
I wouldn't expect that they would.
Since I've lived to witness...
What many of them regard as important.
And hearing the children who brag,
About how much jail time they have served.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Is About Identity and Principle
What difference does it make,
Whose heart you take and break?
What difference will you fake next...
If you say you've made mistakes,
When those mistakes leave heartbreak...
Over again,
In a thoughtless process unconsciously taken!
And this is not about money,
Or being Afrocentric.
This is about identity and principle.
One's integrity and dignity.
This is about those areas of life,
That have never dawned on you.
Because you are just too caught up in 'things'.
And no one can pay for magic to happen...
If one's mind is already established in ego!
To adorn and impress,
A valued emptiness.
And...
Let me leave you with this,
When did you determine I was not Afrocentric?
Was it before or after you recognized I was not subservient?
Or after you obtained the benefit of my efforts...
Erased from beneath your footsteps.
And I had been freed with blood I left...
From displaying a humblizing ignorance.
You find to market is best.
Or was 'that' something you had been told?
By those sold on reaching for already polished gold.
You do not remember the days,
The path you did not pave...
Had not been laid with choices,
Do you?
But I forget...
You represent that generation absent of deeds.
Delusioned and free of struggle.
You just want to shine...
Regardless of who holds your spotlight.
Or who had paid to have that light shine upon you.
I knew those unafraid to be challenged by those paths unpaved.
And perhaps my comfort with that...
Leaves you opinionated that I am not aware,
I am black?
I just don't carry the affects of that on my back!
And why should I...
When every stride I glide is still followed!
And this is not about money,
Or being Afrocentric.
This is about identity and principle.
One's integrity and dignity.
And none of that do you represent...
As a means for your survival!
I can where...
And with whom I sit and eat.
That is something yet I can not do.
As I pretend to be unaware...
Of the closeness of my oppressor's teeth.
And you...
Could care less of who makes the mess.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I've Heard Those Old Stories Told
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
I've heard those old stories told,
About what folks have done...
To make my life easy and comfortable.
Especially told to others who did not know.
And who did what...
When I got myself into ruts.
'God...
I am so glad You know the real deal! '
And I wonder 'who' that might have been?
That came to my aid when I needed them.
Hmmm...
It's true,
I have had folks give me 'things'.
And money loaned I paid back.
I've had people to me make promises.
And I remember every one of them broken...
From the time I was a kid!
Hmmm...
I can't remember anyone,
Motivating my moves!
Only You,
My Father.
I could say my entire life has been spent...
With me doing the giving.
And to a degree that would be true.
Since several people I have known...
Have told lies.
That's all they did and still do.
And I use to listen to a whole lot of BS.
With attempts I made to correct some mess.
Do I now?
No!
'Everything' about me you see...
My Father God,
Has taught to me.
And the biggest lesson I have learned to date?
Do not hesitate in the waiting of others to approve!
You'd be a dried up old prune in the doing.
If you've been blessed with a gift,
You better give it and be done with it!
And let whoever say whatever!
Give folks who gossip some fuel,
To keep their lips moving.
And doing something bizarre...
While you're at it!
Learn to live without restrictions and limitations.
You and your time are not defined by those mindless.
Unless you let it!
Then whose truth do you ultimately live?
It wont be mine because I have my own to live!
Although I do give folks credit where it is due.
Like being witnesses...
To the gifts God has given to me.
That's it!
Anything else folks would like to claim...
Did not occur on my watch.
But I do understand,
Why some folks like to associate themselves...
With those who struggle through and win,
Their battles and conquer over grief!
Thank You God, Almighty!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With You All The Way
Girl, if ever the going got rough
Remember
Were the type to think of backing down
So when you got more than your share
In a minute I knew your heart was in it
I knew that it would make you be your best
Put you to the test
But if sometimes it seems not worth the battle
Thats when youll see
You can count on me
cause im with you all the way
Ill never give up this dream
Although it may seem
Theres no way out today [oh, girl]
Yes, im with you all the way
Whatever places love might put us through
Remember im with you
With you all the way
When you see me
Your eyes say that you need me
But theres another feelin they cant hide
And it hurts so deep inside
To think maybe before id let you down
Wont you hear me out now
Believe me somehow
cause im with you all the way
Ill never give up the dream
Although it may seem
Theres no way out today [oh, girl]
Yes, im with you all the way
Whatever places love might put us through
Remember im with you
With you all the way
I thought id never know just where to start
Delivering this promise from my heart
Holding you here in my arms
Has told me what to say, yeah
cause im with you all the way
Ill never give up the dream
Although it may seem
Theres no way out today [oh, girl]
Yes, im with you all the way
Whatever places love might put us through
Remember im with you
With you all the way
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity Of I
Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me
Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about me, and what I identify
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
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Based Upon Materialistic Concepts
I can not call my breathing a hobby.
Nor do I relate,
To those who associate creativity...
To a dollar bill.
And there are many like that.
Attached to things.
Disconnected spiritually...
To any talents or gifts,
To them God brings!
When asked how much I 'make'...
I get irate with folks like that.
And those who say they have no time to create...
I know right away,
With them I do not relate.
And those who say they have faith in God...
To only admit,
They do not accept God given talents,
Are their main jobs.
I have limited patience.
Knowing from them,
I can only expect a production of excuses.
Based upon materialistic concepts.
And as I age...
From folks like this,
I wish to keep my distance.
And God kept pleased!
Since He is the only One,
To know where I come from.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Afrocentric Enough
Years ago...
They acted as if,
I was an embarrassment to them.
Not Afrocentric enough.
Even though I had identity,
Branded on my 'strut-and-stuff'!
My name, Lawrence Suhuba
Yuroban selected.
Doubling the meaning of my given name.
Suhuba (Lawrence) now Lawrence S.
Proud of my heritage and having no shame!
None to confess.
Today I 'strut' with my stuff all over the internet.
Doing what I've done most of my life.
And that's write.
And I might have been an embarrassment to them then...
But 'them' not feeling comfortable to be who they are now,
Should embarrass them more!
Since having no identity today,
Makes little sense since everything folks have lived for...
To impress with materialism has diminished in value.
And everything they are has been invested in it!
My head is held high...
Most times.
If I am not in deep thought!
And...
I might not have a dime in my pocket.
Most times,
My mind tells me I'm worth millions!
And I look to the ground,
Just to make sure I'm not dropping any of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Emotional Bullies
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
With sensitivities we should question,
The need to protect and defend them.
Shame begets what shame gets to be 'gotten'.
In return.
What other lesson do we need to learn,
But 'that'?
And all lessons learned are together attached.
Something in our minds disconnected.
To trigger quick and snap!
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
We should at least be maintaining our own dignity.
Self-respect.
And a proud identity.
Flaunted!
And undaunted by the implementation of those insecurities!
And who hasn't had those?
LIES!
If you live you have had those!
And please...
No debate with me do I invite,
On the topic of 'Which Side of Ignorance Is Right'
It is what it is.
So if that makes you uptight...
Go somewhere and backbite me.
I see the thought of it enlightens your eyes.
I'm sure your lips would prepare,
Something with venom..
If I called you a 'fool'.
Would that get you there any sooner?
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
When are we going to come to challenge one another,
To overcome and defend the right to mend within us?
That is the real fear.
And that makes us all not want to come face to face,
With an ugliness we all see in ourselves.
And that takes work.
To self examine.
In the convenient fields of doubt.
With,
Initiative and desires unknown!
And hope with wishes knocked out of practiced.
As over rehearsed sorrows about who did who wrong...
Remains centerstage.
Provoked by new lines found on someone's cellphone.
'I just love the way drive.
With so much compassion.'
When are we going to come to challenge one another,
To overcome and defend the right to mend within us?
God knows...
What is on stage right now has long required re-writes.
With a consistent updating, scrub and polish.
'...I haven't been driving too long.
Infact, you are my second passenger.'
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
And 'own up' to that which we do,
To reveal the same thoughts being shared.
But what is not there has been purposely kept away.
LOVE!
When never known,
Can not be there to share unconditionally.
It has to under conditions met,
Be shown.
With committment!
Desire.
Hot.
But not to overheat kept respect.
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
When will we begin to look up and over,
Our own barriers?
Our own deliberating and limited intentions,
To free what it is that we don't want to feel.
It is not wanted!
Why is it there?
To free what it is that we don't want to feel.
And welcome what it is that we do,
Wish.
To feel.
We should at least be maintaining our own dignity.
Self-respect.
And a proud identity.
Flaunted!
Undaunted,
By the implementation of those insecurities!
And who hasn't had those to chase away?
Insecurities?
Emotional bullies.
Insecurities?
Emotional bullies.
Same 'thang'!
Get rid of 'em!
We should not be undercover,
To announce the recovery of another's blame.
Or an addicting unconsciousness,
That leaves us entrapped within our own barriers?
And a lot of paranoia has been known,
To be shown from that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Others May Mistake A Duck
I remember being defined,
By...
How I spoke with a wish to be understood.
Pronunciating words with a clarity.
And spoken in the way they were spelled,
As they were meant to be.
I was not the one to accept mediocrity.
I remember being judge by the way I looked.
Where I lived and the interest in others I took.
And what I had to present and didn't.
I was 'out-of-it' to many.
And this was said to me as if to restrict.
I remember putting a stamp on my identity.
And the acceptance of this,
Had been rejected by others who could not then see.
In fact...others would approach me,
As if I had commited treason.
Or had an incurable disease.
People can be cruel when making their assessments.
As if those selected needed to be taught a few lessons.
Today with integrity and my identity intact,
I do not declare my 'Blackness'.
I've always been proud of that.
What is obvious to me needs no announcing of fact.
Or do I oppose those with a host of opinions,
To appear more bold to the ones opposing my goals.
Finished or not they will never be diminished.
I have learned not to pay naysayers any attention.
Or give them time to stretch the limits of their minds.
If others may mistake a duck in wasted debates,
To argue what they see is a parakeet...
Or something else to be caged.
They will have those same issues forever on display.
Regardless how outdated their manifestations,
With them stay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ii Remember But Do Yuu? ? ?
ii remember the funny times
ii remember the baddd too
ii remember wat yuu was like
but doo yuu remember
doo yuu remember me? ?
doo yuu remember wat yuu once said to me
ii remember yuu said yuu loved me
ii remember when yuu said ill always be here
ii remember these things but doo yuu? ? ?
doo yuu remember the first time the cops chased uss ont he motor bike
doo yuu remember the time we stayed upp and mum yelled at yuu
doo yuu remember the times yuu realy cared about me? ?
ii remember all these times
ii remember all the memories
ii remember the day yuu became a memorie
dooo remember its 5 years ago this year
doo yuu remember that it was yuu that left
doo yuu remember when yuu told me ii was a skank
ii remember ii cried all night
ii remember ii tried too ring to talk too yuu but yuu would only hang upp...
ii hate that yuu only alow yuu too stay a memorie to me
when yuu said yuu loved me when yuu said yuu would never leave
ii remember all these things but...... doo yuu remember anything? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
poem by Sxc Babe Xxx
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Only A Journey
A trip of life in every steps
of event, experience details
representation of time.
A time of life passage of happening
from point to point in experience,
People, places, things, associate
excessive action to take it as a
journey passage way.
Time, money, effort put together,
thoughts, emotion, feeling, hurt, pain,
struggle, discouraging, regrets;
Look around, its only a journey to experience,
Event to pass on to reach the real location journey.
poem by Jocelyn Dunbar
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Kept In Realities Deluded
We...
You and me.
They and others.
Are more the products of a yesterday.
A time that has gone away,
And does not exist.
Than we are affixed,
To a time existing today...
With no history yet,
Can be claimed attached to it.
And many are accused of living in the past.
Few, if any, are accused of living in the future.
And those that are...
Glowing bright as stars,
Seen...
But light years away from where we are,
Just might be...
In their own 'worlds'.
And it seems unfortunate,
That those in this one...
Are addicted to conflict and other drugs,
That keep them kept in realities deluded.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That's All I Ask
If discouraging my sensibilities,
With the implementation...
That effects my forward footsteps,
You believe can be done...
By use of your expertise in defamation?
I hope one day...
I am not accused for all of your failures.
And you at least extend to me the courtesy,
Of removing your ignorance off my path!
That's all I ask.
Your success in doing this to others,
I will not tolerate.
Nor will those who have approved my mission.
Having it your way,
Is not part of my job description!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Walking In Someone Else's Shoes
I feel like this about life...
If you have reached your 40's,50's and 60's
With a lack of identity and understanding,
As to who you are?
Do not expect from me my patience,
Or a tolerant hand to hold.
I've been called 'nutt's too often by those,
Who are still seeking approval from their mamas
And papas.
With some folks whining,
As if they need their diapers changed.
And the years I endured through emotional pain...
God came to my aid.
And saved me from back to back heartbreak.
With few caring less 'how' I survived!
As long as I was there to hear their complaints,
My pain to them was insignificant.
And as I observe and comprehend how some can be...
I see them now the same way,
Without concern.
There 'is' a caring!
However...
I don't get wrapped up dramatically about it,
Like some folks.
There is something to be said,
About walking in someone else's shoes!
They may look easy and comfortable to wear...
Until it is realized,
The fit just isn't 'that' comfortable.
A perception handed to one on a plate to eat...
With a choice to live life,
Is not life lived to experience all it offers.
Even if one is not ready for the experience...
There is a process called 'growth' that is done!
A maturity that happens,
When one heals and recovers from mental insecurities...
Of all kinds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Isn't Melting Is It?
I don't try to hide who I am...
Because some say I must!
To secure employment?
Surrounded by those
Who hold onto a certain distrust!
I'm not here trying to disguise
An identity I pride!
I am black!
Damnit!
And that's a fact!
With an aware acceptance
That I truly pride!
Those who are not like me...
Try all their lives to defend.
A connection they have,
With the color of their skin!
That IS them!
That is NOT me!
I am proud of who I am.
I don't walk around insecure...
Because I'm not greeted with smiles
Or grins!
I am very comfortable to announce too,
If those conversations begin!
But many today are casting that nonsense away!
By getting things done...
And letting that petty BS end!
It's ignorant when that comes from someone!
Oh...
Yes! To answer your question.
I will still have a slice of the German Chocolate Cake,
With the vanilla icecream topping!
It isn't melting is it?
'No sir, it is not!
And we all appreciate
Your assessment of race relations!
However some of the people in your party,
Are looking a little annoyed.
And I don't think it's the roast beef on the buffét.
We do have others to serve in line, sir! '
And I'm not aware of that! ?
I just wanted to make a 'few' observations!
No need for a display of testiness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Identity of a person
Identity of a person
Identity signifies complexity
Identity identifies with reality
Identity is the bearer of all vanity
How does a person identify with identity?
You define yourself based on what?
They say, they say
You’re kind or moral based on what?
Or
You’re a genius and shrewd based on what?
Or
You make the perfect lover, look for no other
They say, they say
You’re strong without a thought it may not last long
Or
You’ve skills since with a record you run up high bills
Or
You are shy but no one ever talks to you or says hi
Or
You never give up because right now you are on top
They say, they say
You are generous or gregarious when all you are is conscious
Or
You’re innovative yet not the originator of the idea conceived
What are the facts?
That makes your identity intact
When change on identity has the last impact?
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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I Rememer, .
I Remember, ..
I Remember, seeing cops take you away.
I Remember, it was just the 3 of us.
I Remember, going to see you.
I Remember, talking to you ALL the time.
I Remember, telling you ' I love you.'
I Remember saying, ' Daddy, i miss you.'
I Remember, when you packed your bags.
I Remember you, holding your new born child.
I Remember, when you left me.
I Remember when, i told you i hated you.
I Remember, when i met HIM.
I Remember, when HE called me HIS daughter.
I Remember, HE took your place.
I Remember when, I told HIM ' Dad, i love you.'
I Remember now, im not YOUR daughter, ..
IM HIS.
poem by Bree Chase
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Growing Up In the Projects
You want to know what it's like,
To grow up in the projects?
Being different and taking risks?
'Can't be that bad! '
Follow me.
'Where are we going? '
Up to the roof.
'To the roof? '
Yeah.
I want to show you something from my point of view.
Now...
Turnaround.
Put your hands behind your back.
'Why? '
I'm going to tie your hands behind your back.
Then I'm going to blindfold you before I leave you alone.
'But...
I might fall off the roof.
Aren't you concerned about that? '
You'll learn to adjust.
If you want to survive.
And...
If you can not get up from a fall?
Maybe you were too blind not to pay attention.
Some steps some folks shouldn't take.
Listening and observation is key.
Common sense is precious.
You be surprise how many lessons one learns,
Growing up in the projects.
'But my hands are tied.
And I can't see.'
I use to hear that all the time!
~Boy! Can't you see my hands are tied?
I can't see where the next dime is coming from.
And all I get from you is lip! ~
Note:
Not too many folks I knew who grew up
in the projects became victims from the experience.
In fact, most of the folks became very successful people.
But...that was a time when expectations were high.
And many years ago when folks chose to have 'some' identity
and dignity connected to the 'self' and a growth process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Know the Ones
Aren't you tired of the folks who pass judgement?
You know the ones...
Quick to tell you how you should live
Always taking handouts from those they take for granted,
Criticizing the people who take their time to give.
Aren't you sick of those who waste your time to gossip?
You know the ones,
Glued to phones like weapons,
To add fresh lies to what they've heard!
They are nowhere to be found,
To assist 'you' when you need 'them',
But first to arrive to offer a discouraging word.
Aren't you fed up with their lack of time to listen?
Don't you wish they would grow and want to learn?
Even though they blame others for their troubling lives,
They will never feel ashamed,
To express their own limits of concern!
A repeated lesson you have learned?
You know the ones...
With their heads turned!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What This 'Oneness' Means
No one born into this life,
Has been sent to evaluate...
The creations of God.
Or the work of the Angels,
With distorted interpretations.
There are many who have the ability to quote.
But few have the courage to live and accept...
We all are part of the experience.
None are here to inspect and reject,
That which God has selected as HIS best.
Upset are those people,
Choosing to divide and separate...
Based upon ethnic values,
Assumed by a few to make them great.
From an isolation in which to generate their hate.
Upset are those people,
Who congegate to celebrate...
What others need to fulfill their lives.
With limited possibilities.
They place upon others,
With an inflicting done...
To disguise and hide their own insecurities.
No one born into this life,
Has been sent to evaluate...
The creations of God.
Or the work of the Angels,
With distorted interpretations.
There are many who have the ability to quote.
But few have the courage to live and accept...
We all are part of the experience.
None of us have been sent,
To dissect into segments...
The intentions of what a 'Oneness' has meant.
Or to any of us what this 'Oneness' means.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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