Totally In Twilight
Some folks actually insist...
What is going on today,
Isn't going on.
And that we should pray...
To avoid the realities!
There are folks like that...
Totally in twilight!
With minds dimmed.
And a thought process completely off!
And people like me are called heathens...
Because I am against being on my knees,
When the basement of the church is on fire!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Put a Sock In It
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Many getting sick of the pickiness started.
And when it gets sticky they can not stop.
Instigating agitation with annoyance.
Dropping all they've got to tie a mind in knots.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Can't you see them strike poses and begin to 'cheese'.
Then plop on their knees,
To make their pleas.
These same folks cry about bad luck.
With claims their butts are stuck in ruts.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
And fed up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poised To Be Teased
Poised to be teased,
Are 'most' of the people.
The others...
Have totally blocked out reality.
Nothing remotely connected to truth,
Will these folks believe.
And...
There are those who who actually,
Prefer and seek to be deceived...
Than to accept anything,
Close to hinting ofm any reality.
And those who were bred,
To have mush for brains...
Will have nothing to do with what truth contains.
Forget introducing a thought process.
Many more accept medications,
To provide their fantasies...
Exclusive access.
Yes.
Poised to be teased,
Are 'most' of the people.
The others...
Have totally blocked out reality.
Nothing remotely connected to truth,
Will these folks believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What It Takes to Lead
Can one completely lost of wit,
Be held accountable...
For not having an independent thought,
At all.
Everyone born...
Isn't always guaranteed,
Common sense.
And those ignorantly involved in 'their' nonsense,
Have not a clue they are not well.
Even a barrage of thrown hints,
Would go left unaddressed.
Those folks are focused on their greed.
With a twisted ego to keep them fixed.
Can one completely lost of wit,
Be held accountable...
For not having an independent thought,
At all.
'Good question.
I can't answer it.
The next one plays basketball.
And his wife takes no nonsense.
I think we all are in for quite a surprise.
These new folks are totally awake!
And they know what it takes to lead! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Folks Who Live On The Hill
Folks Who Live on the Hill
((1937) Oscar Hammerstein II, Jerome Kern)
Someday we'll build a home on a hilltop high,
You and I,
Shiny and new a cottage that two can fill.
And we'll be pleased to be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
Someday we may be adding a thing or two,
A wing or two.
We will make changes as any fam'ly will,
But we will always be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
Our veranda will command a view of meadows green,
The sort of veiw that seems to want to be seen.
And when the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at the same old view,
Just we two.
Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill,
The folks like to be called,
What they have always been called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Discovered My Given Name
When I discovered my given name 'is' Lawrence...
(Named after my father.
Who on 'his' birth certificate says Lawrence 'A'.
And I'm suppose to be a junior with no 'A' attached.
Go figure!)
...and not 'Larry' as I am still called by family members,
And very close friends.
People who 'knew' me became upset,
When I began calling myself 'Lawrence'.
Saying I thought I was better than the others.
And that I was not 'real' OR down-to-Earth!
'Does this sound a bit crazed?
I wanted to call myself by my 'real' name...
And folks who didn't have my name,
Became upset!
Pure insanity...
Isn't it? '
There's more...
But my parents did not name me Larry.
They named me Lawrence.
And my father everyone called Lawrence...
Decided he was going to be called 'Larry'.
I'm not going to say he was a jealous man.
That's a different story!
And I decided to become as REAL as possible!
Even adopting an African name, Suhuba...
Of the Yoruban language.
Meaning 'laurel' or of the Sun.
And 'that' made some folks furious.
Family members became outraged...
Because I sought 'identity'.
And I was accused of wanting to be 'white'.
These are the same folks who call for unity of all kinds!
But they don't know 'who' they are to unify.
And 'why' or for what!
That's how ignorant some environments,
And the people can be!
Divided into segments of conditioned realities.
God bless 'em!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into the Caverns of Darkness
With the advice of appointed sidekicks...
One man has singlehandedly insured
The word 'integrity' has become a joke,
When applied to folks who govern...
From such lofty positions!
Credibility?
Can you say...'Got none? '
And will never be located!
Not at these sub-basement levels.
AND...
It is rumored that this costly production
Is 'thisclose' from losing all interest,
From everyone
Because someone had a notion
This man has a thought to be shared
To determine the direction of 'down and deeper in dung? '
Light has already refused to shine on the minds
Where these folks are tripping over their steps.
He has no thought to think!
That is why we are now on the brink of no return!
But...
There is some satisfaction that attracts to this action!
He reflects all of those who chose to follow him...
Into the caverns of darkness!
And they accept this.
Since they watch and cover,
Each other's backs!
Like rats on an expedition!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Limitations of Tranquility
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known...
Share it with those in need.
Especially those who feed on myths.
Trying their best to fit in...
A history they affix to a reality
That has been tricked and rewritten!
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known...
Some people can not accept,
Their ancestors were thieves and heathens.
Who worshipped their sins in dens of evil.
And now they pay for these medieval deeds!
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known.
It is shown they have an absence of this.
Their entire existence has them betwixt...
Having an intelligence that sits
Within borders of treason!
They can not reason.
They accept others outside of their barricades,
As odd and below façades they've made.
They have no idea,
They bring fear amongst themselves!
To endear conflict they instill to thrive to prosper.
And deluded with limitations of tranquility.
That has weakened a peace...
From those they spend in frustrations to conquer.
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known.
They do not know it.
This has never to them been shown!
They are descendents of war!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Is This Possible
Is it possible,
That some go out of their way...
To be noticably lacking of any skill,
Other than theft.
With no thought process,
Unless it is borrowed.
Is it possible?
Is it possible not to comprehend,
What creativity means?
Is it possible to clearly plagiarize,
Every concept that is seen...
And still declare one's originality!
Not only is this possible.
People have survived copying others' lives.
But to totally deny someone else's involvement...
Is the reason why some folks choose to hide,
While they continue to thrive off lies undetected.
Is this possible?
Not only is this possible...
That's how some people believe life works!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Folks Are Just Folks!
black folks just like white folks,
gotta eat, sleep, need somewhere
to stay, need a job...
just want to be treated like people,
equal in every way....
and my Hispanic neighbors,
hard working, working together,
(we could learn from that!)
taking care of families...
human beings with human needs,
just like us....
Asians, Native Americans...
all just the same....
all of us just people....
want to be treated that way!
folks are just folks!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Addicted To Struggling
Who knows what's being said to folks,
When opportunities are taken...
To exaggerate realities.
Who's mind has been manipulated to believe,
What 'is' isn't?
And that which isn't has been exploited to perceive.
And the rise of confusion.
Began with an absence of facts.
What one assumes,
Lives.
And realities are attcked!
Morning, noon and night.
Minds are addicted,
To struggling.
As the rise of confusion,
Begins with an absence of facts.
What one has assumed,
Lives.
And realities are attcked!
Morning, noon and night.
Minds addicted,
Sit in struggles.
Who knows what's being said to folks,
When opportunities are taken...
To exaggerate realities.
Who's mind has been manipulated to believe,
What 'is' isn't?
And that which isn't has been exploited to perceive.
And the rise of confusion.
Began with an absence of facts.
What one assumes,
Lives.
And realities are attcked!
Morning, noon and night.
Minds are addicted,
To struggling.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Images of Power
Fading ideological preferences,
In the face of realities...
Many find difficult to do,
Is coming close to the edge...
Of closure that exposes,
Those who believe their political postering...
Has something to do with integrity.
Or the decency of showing one to be,
Less incompetent...
And more of a human being.
But in times we live today,
Folks who are deluded with sustaining...
Images of power,
Will do so...
Regardless,
If every inch of ground they stand on...
Is shaking!
And crumbling from beneath their feet.
Maintaining a mindset of unpreventable failure...
They would rather keep as a meaningful representation,
Of a weak thought process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blasphemistic Emoting Hypocrites
Turned off I am,
By those in church voice.
Softly spoken scripture quoting,
Folks who approach...
Those with souls to save.
~They seem to be all over the place,
These days.~
Passing out their leaflets,
Depicting the end of life as known.
With pictures of Sunbeamed disciples,
With wings and halos worn and overblown.
Blazing away and being lifted up by the rays.
And when these folks are safe,
In shelters behind closed doors.
They pick up their phones,
To gossip with neighbors.
To talk about the minister.
And who in their churches,
Is disliked and ignored.
And what 'they' don't condone.
Yet they cuss out the children,
Who loudly play on the streets.
Calling them sinning heathens...
Then threaten to call the police.
Flipping through their Bibles,
On Wednesday during Bible class.
Singing in the choirs,
And unwrapping candy snacks.
Making noises throughout the sermon.
Giggling with whispers passed.
Then when asked to attend meetings,
To get things done in the community....
Excuses from their mouths come out.
No time do they have for unity!
Not for their minds to grasp.
But praise God that they've been asked!
Turned off I am,
By those in church voice.
Softly spoken scripture quoting,
Folks who approach...
Those with souls to save.
Passing out their leaflets,
Depicting the end of life as known.
With pictures of Sunbeamed disciples,
With wings and halos worn and overblown.
Blazing away and being lifted up by the rays.
Going through the motions...
Emoting hypocrites,
Devoid of spiritual motive.
And blasphemistic...
These self righteous loyalists.
Devote not one shred of consciousness...
To rituals routined.
Without a depth of feelings connected.
At least none believed,
Either meant or seen...
To be convincing.
'You can't tell me nuthin' bout Gawd.
I study! '
~But do you know how to pray?
Something is missing in your conveyance.
A delivery is heard.
But a comprehension of it needs 'your' attention.~
'Excuse me?
You I don't see in church at all.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some folks rail against other folks, because other folks have what some folks would be glad of.
quote by Henry Fielding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Marriage Is For Old Folks
Mort Shuman, Leon Carr
I love dancing
Crazy romancing
Fellas advancing constantly
Marriage is for old folks
Old folks, not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
I love singing
Good healthy clinging
Quietly bringing on a spree
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks!
One married he
One married she
Whaddya got?
Two people watchin' tv!
I'm not ready
to quit bein' free
And I'm not willing
to stop being me
I've gotta sing my song
Why should I belong
to some guy who says
that I'm wrong?
Doo doo dooo
de doo de doo
de-doo de-doo
doo doo doo
dooo
Cookin' dinner
Lookin' no thinner
Gray elbows and
a sudsy sea
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks,
and it's not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
I'm exploding
with youth and with zest
Who needs corroding
in some vulture's nest?
I've gotta fly my wings
Go places, do things
My freedom bell's really
gonna ring!
Doo doo dooo....(etc.)
I've been through years
Too many blue years
Now I want New Year's every eve
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
Not for me
Can't you see
Marriage ain't for me
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fishing For Fresh Water Bass
By the time their minds begin unfolding...
They will have the consciousness
Of also knowing,
The ignorance they manifested...
Will provide such a stench,
To bring clarity to their eyes as well!
Getting accustomed to truth...
Is like being slapped in the face
By a 'trout'!
When all the time,
You thought you were fishing for fresh water bass!
And then all of a sudden...
A mind awakens to guilt,
And a polluted thought process!
You now see...
Had been addicting!
And those folks you 'had' thought were crazy...
And out of their minds?
You now find a desire to be in their presence!
And they now look upon you with suspicion!
Hey...
That's how it is!
NOW,
Attempt to have a conversation with someone...
You knew,
Before you lost the confinement,
Of your once narrowed mind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Age Spots and Lips That Droop
Psychotic are their problems.
Big and small ones hidden over time.
They did not have to keep them wrapped up.
They chose to medicate them,
With named brand solutions.
Given in geriatric presciptions.
With doses afforded,
And hopefully generically produced.
Or over the counter cheap solutions,
To ease symptoms of a process
Nurtured in their minds.
And these are the same folks,
Who worked to enjoy their retirements?
And I have enjoyed my life...
Knowing that when God said it was over,
That's when I would retire from it!
Not sit and rock away my time.
Of course I have been labelled crazed.
And I will never receive a gold watch,
For being that great and loyal employee.
Nor will a dime I thought was coming back to me,
In a pension plan...
Be lost or confiscated by a company drained by crooks,
Do I have to worry about.
However...
That would piss me off.
To work for the same folks for fifty or more years...
And not have a thing to show for it,
But age spots and lips that droop?
Stiffened joints and wrinkled skin?
The life from those kinds of folks,
Has been sucked from them to the marrow.
And here I am getting compliments,
For a firm behind.
And all this time,
I was working to have broad shoulders!
I have no complaints at all.
God continues to do me right!
I wake up each day with very little in my pockets.
And I feel like millions.
I go outside and see those with a few dollars...
And they would scare folks to death.
I've seen mummies in museums,
Wrapped and encased look better.
And these are the same folks,
Who worked to enjoy their retirements?
In what way...
I wonder?
Halloween only comes around once a year!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marriage Is For Old Folks
Mort shuman, leon carr
I love dancing
Crazy romancing
Fellas advancing constantly
Marriage is for old folks
Old folks, not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
I love singing
Good healthy clinging
Quietly bringing on a spree
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks!
One married he
One married she
Whaddya got?
Two people watchin tv!
Im not ready
To quit bein free
And Im not willing
To stop being me
Ive gotta sing my song
Why should I belong
To some guy who says
That Im wrong?
Doo doo dooo
De doo de doo
De-doo de-doo
Doo doo doo
Dooo
Cookin dinner
Lookin no thinner
Gray elbows and
A sudsy sea
Marriage is for old folks
Cold folks,
And its not for me!
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life!
Im exploding
With youth and with zest
Who needs corroding
In some vultures nest?
Ive gotta fly my wings
Go places, do things
My freedom bells really
Gonna ring!
Doo doo dooo....(etc.)
Ive been through years
Too many blue years
Now I want new years every eve
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
One husband
One wife
Whaddya got?
Two people sentenced for life
Marriage is for old folks
Marriage is for cold folks
Not for me
Cant you see
Marriage aint for me
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From A Racist Point Of View
If I was a white man,
My intelligence...
Would not be considered arrogant.
Nor would I be noticed flaunting my pride.
Or be thought of as a novelty!
But because I am black.
And factually identified with a liking of it.
I am thought to be a fool.
Because I have multiple experiences.
And most folks who like their perspectives kept,
From a racist point of view...
Think all black folks they call niggers are fools.
With a proudness to display their ignorant redneck status.
And being called a cracker they love.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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